#this has made me so happy you have no idea

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

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A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[softness-and-shattering]

I had something of a similar upbringing. Not as fundamentalist and not as cut-off from the world at large, but there are similarities. I was told that I was happy and that was making choices and I was happy to make those choices. I was told following the rules about modesty meant that I respected myself, and everyone in short shorts and tank tops inherently didnt respect themselves.

The first thing that made me look at it all and get in touch with my honest feelings, which were thankfully not buried so far, was a line from some article I was reading. The idea that a choice is not a real choice, not a free choice, if choosing otherwise would lead to negative consequences potentially including social exclusion. What the lady in the tiktok is saying with the candy bar metaphor. If one bar, or even three bars, is communally accepted, and youre told you want it, its good for you, its your favourite, youre happy with it, you feel pressued to pick that one. If youve been told your whole life that this is the truth, that you dont like the others, heres a person gonna talk about how they grew up waying the other candy bars and it rotted their teeth and they wish they had never, and I should learn from their mistakes and choose one of the Acceptable bars instead, its fighting a lot of inertia and taking quite a risk to say "actually I want the bar you say will rot my teeth. My teeth are not your teeth and I want to try this one".

And I was reading this article thinking, hang on, do I in fact want this candybar? Am I actually the happiest I can be this way? How will I ever know if I dont try any alternatives?

So I started just to myself questioning the opinions I was programmed with. No I dont think modesty has an inherent connection to self respect, and more than that, self respect is inherently deeply personal, and I think its impossible to look at what someone is wearing or how they move and accurately declare that they do or dont have self respect. Turns out I actually do really like some loud screamy metal music, is isnt just bad noise to me. Turns out I dont want to wear long skirts all the time. Turns out I dont want to be a girl at all.

You can always try other candy bars and come back to tried and true. Or you can go exploring and see what the rest of the world has to offer, or even some combination. Its your life. You get to make your own drecisions. You get to make drastic decisions even bad decisions. Its your life.

This is such a good, succinct way of describing the illusion of choice many fundamentalist women and men have when it comes to life paths.

[marauder-misprint]

I loved Nail polish & cologne, you are such an amazing writer! It's been so long since I read a decent version of Moony in a fic. You made me incredibly happy today 🫣

Sorry if it's rude to ask, any chance you could make a sequel?

Omg, I don't find it rude at all to ask for sequels/more parts to any of my writing! It's one of the highest compliments in my opinion! So, thank you 🥰

Also tagging everyone who asked for a part 2 in the replies/comments ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fresh parchment & perfume

Remus Lupin x reader

part one

2.3k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, Y/N, angst if you squint

You want to murder Remus Lupin. 

Okay, not really. But you’re frustrated that he’s taken away one of your simple daily joys: staring at him during class. You’ve been caught staring at him multiple times now and you swear there have been times where he was looking at you first. This never happened before so why is it happening now? 

You come to a conclusion, but you don’t like it. It’s the only thing that makes sense though.

“Lily!” you yell as you enter your dorm and slam the door behind you. “What did you say?”

She looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“About what? To who? When?” she asks, preparing her defense.

“About what I smelled in the Amortentia!”

“You never told me what you smelled,” she says, furrowing her brow. “I mean, I can assume, but you never actually told me. And who would I have told?”

“Oh, I don’t know, James, maybe?”

She laughs. “Potter?” Then she looked down at her hands. “I mean, yeah, we’ve talked a little bit and he doesn’t seem… as bad? But we don’t talk about you.” 

“Oh.” Your voice is small. “Never mind then.”

You collapse on your bed and Lily is sitting at the foot of it within seconds. 

“What gave you the idea that I’ve told Potter about your feelings for a certain quiet prefect?” she asks.

You lift your head to glare at her. You’re not in the mood. 

“He’s been looking at me…” you mumble, which causes Lily to fall into a fit of laughter. “Lily!”

“I-I… I’m sorry, but… that’s ridiculous and you know it,” she manages to say in between her laughs. “He’s been looking at you?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. “He’s never looked at me this much before”

You pause as you hide your face in your hands. 

“He must know and he’s trying to figure out how to tell me that he doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Or…”

“Or what?”

“Or he’s working up the courage to talk to you?” Lily offers.

“He can talk to me just fine. We’ve studied before. Played Summoner’s Court. Wizards’ chess. We talk.” 

“Okay, yes, you talk. But have you tried flirting with him?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “No… But then why is he just staring at me and not talking to me?” 

“Why have you been staring at him and not flirting with him?” she shoots your question back at you. 

“I don’t need your logic right now,” you groan, rolling over to shove your face into your pillow. 

---

“Has she always stared at me this much?” Remus asks Sirius nervously as they lounge in their dorm. 

James was at quidditch practice and Peter had solo detention. 

“Can’t say I’ve paid much attention to her, Moony. Might be a better question for Prongs.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Because Y/N’s always with Evans? And he stares at her quite often. Come on, mate. Two plus two.” Sirius gives his friend a sympathetic look. “Have you talked to her at all since?”

Remus doesn’t answer, letting the silence answer for him. No, he hadn’t. The amount of times he’s caught you staring at him over the past two days is startling. Each time, you would turn red and look away almost immediately. He hasn’t been able to focus as much in classes, not when he knows you might be looking at him, not when Sirius thinks he might actually have a chance with you. 

“Have you… oh, I don’t know, considered talking to her?”

“Padfoot,” Remus says tiredly. 

“You can’t ask a girl out without words.”

“You would know.” It comes out more as a sigh. 

Remus doesn’t want to admit it, but yes, out of the Marauders, Sirius had the most experience with girls. But whether his “expertise” could actually be trusted was up in the air. He never stayed with a girl for too long and he wasn’t sure if it was his choice or a result of his actions. 

“Yes, I would know. And if she has been staring at you as much as you claim, even if just these past few days, ask. her. out.” 

“What if she’s just been zoning out? You know, when you stare but you’re not really looking?”

“She’s just been zoned out in your direction multiple times a day?”

“Yes.”

Remus knows it sounds ridiculous, and that’s only enforced when Sirius chuckles from the window where he’s smoking. Then he’s standing up and offering Remus one. 

“Stop being so dense,” he says. “And so hard on yourself. I know what that voice in your head is saying.”

Remus takes the cigarette and follows Sirius back to the window.

“And what is it saying?”

“That you’re not worthy of love or attraction, that you’re not attractive. So how could lovely Y/N actually like you when you’re, well, you.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Remus says dryly before taking a drag. 

“Oi, not saying any of that’s true.”

Remus rolls his eyes. 

“Ask. her. out. And you’ll see that you’re wrong.”

The two boys sit on the window ledge for a while, each going through a few cigarettes. Silence fills the room. Sirius is more than content to just let his brain empty while Remus’s mind is running circles around itself.

Was he imagining the blush when he caught you staring? Were you staring because you liked him? Were you just staring into the distance and turning red because you realized you were staring at a person? How often did you stare at him? Was it because of that Potions lesson? What if you were staring near him and not actually at him? Was he being narcissistic to think you looked at him? He sat by Peter, James and Sirius in every class. It was very logical to think that you were staring at one of them. 

“Shit,” Remus mutters.

“What?” Sirius’ voice sounds far away despite being right next to him.

“She’s been staring at you.” 

Sirius laughs.

“No, Pads, think about it. You’ve been next to me every time I’ve caught her staring. It makes so much sense!”

“Moony. You’re delusional,” Sirius says. 

James enters the dorm. Sirius’ eyes light up.

“Prongs, help me out here!” Sirius calls as James throws his bag down on his bed.

“Yeah?” 

“Y/N. Has she been staring at me or Moony in class?” 

“I’m not getting in between you two if you’re fighting over a girl,” James says, laying down on the floor near the window.

“Not fighting over a girl,” Remus says, giving Sirius an annoyed look. “Padfoot just figures you’d know who she stares at, if she’s staring at all, since you, you know, stare at Lily.”

“I do not!” James exclaims as he sits up rapidly.

Sirius laughs, “She’s not in here and we know you do. Don’t lie.” He pauses for a moment to light a new cigarette. “For Moony’s sake, does Y/N stare at him during class?”

James slowly lays back down while giving Sirius a wary look.

“I swear, if I get hexed for answering…”

“Not going to hex you!” Sirius says.

“She stares at Moony. A lot. Think she pays more attention to him than lessons.”

“So she’s gone for you!” Sirius barks, clapping a hand on Remus’ knee and causing him to grimace. “Fucking told you!”

---

You make a serious effort to not look in Remus’ direction during classes. It kills you. It’s been your habit for years and you’re quitting cold turkey. You’re both grateful and mortified that Remus hasn’t called you out for it; he can’t call you out for it if he hasn’t talked to you. 

It doesn’t help that Lily has started gently nudging you every time Remus enters a room or sits remotely near you. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to know what she’s thinking. 

“You’re the first thing he looks at when he enters a room,” she whispers during Transfiguration. 

“Or he’s looking for the Marauders,” you retort just as quietly. 

“Yeah, right,” she says sarcastically. 

Professor McGonagall flashes a harsh look in your direction and the two of you fall silent. You’re thankful that she didn’t call you out, or worse, ask you to share what you were talking about with the class. That would have been mortifying. 

You’ve been successful in your mission to not stare at Remus so far, despite the insatiable urge to do so pulling at your eyes. You swear, the man is magnetic. It doesn’t help that Lily has suddenly become relentless in her nudging and subtle poking.

“What?” you hiss, looking down at your notes.

“He keeps looking this way.” 

You roll your eyes and turn your attention back to McGonagall. While Lily’s words stoked the flame of hope in your heart, you didn’t need to be losing house points for not paying attention. 

When class ended, Lily put her things away at record speed.

“Potter! Wait up!” she calls, leaving you behind.

You frown as you briefly watch her go. You usually walked to your next class together. You knew that she smelled something like James in the Amortentia and that had fueled her new friendship with him. And as much as you liked seeing your friend this happy, you didn’t like that it meant walking to your classes alone. 

Except when you exit the classroom, you aren't alone. Remus is right at your side. You walk in silence for a few paces. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s charged. Despite the other students in the corridor with you, you swear you can hear every step you take. It doesn’t help that you can feel your heart beating in your throat. 

“How’ve you been?” you ask. You keep your face straight, knowing that if you look at Remus, you’ll likely trip, fall and embarrass yourself.

“Oh… I’ve been relatively good.” He pauses momentarily. “James hasn’t shut up about what he smelled in the Amortentia.” 

You try not to laugh. “Lily’s not been too shy about it either. I think she’ll say yes sooner or later.” 

Remus gestures ahead of you to where the two are. “Seems like it.”

Silence falls between you again. You were used to being with Remus in the quiet; that’s how it usually was when you studied in the library together. Except that was different. When you studied, you had your books in front of you and you were both scribbling away, scrawling on  parchment until your inkwells ran out. 

“Did you really smell the library in the Amortentia?” you ask, breaching the silence. You’re not really sure what made you ask, but something inside of you needed to know.

“Erm, yeah. Yeah, I did,” he answers. He’s not looking at you in the same way you’re not looking at him, meaning you’re both trying to gauge the other’s expression in your peripheral vision. “What did you smell? You got pretty quiet after smelling the potion.”

“Oh, um, I smelled… nail polish, chocolate, parchment,” you listed off with a glaring omission. 

Remus let out a breath that he wasn’t aware he was holding. He didn’t want to admit that he was disappointed in your answer. He was hoping you had smelled something more obviously him. It didn’t register in his brain that he was the chocolate and parchment you smelled. 

“That all?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Was the library all you smelled?” you retorted defensively. 

You saw his features tense. 

“Was it?” you repeated, more gentle this time, like talking to a scared child. 

“It was the library. Everything that encompasses my usual visits,” he starts to say as he turns to look at you. “The books, fresh parchment, ink, your perfume.” 

You stop walking. Remus notices immediately, having been watching you and your expression. His heart is racing in his chest. He can’t tell if your reaction is good or bad, based on your wide eyes and sharp intake. You swallow, looking up at the taller, scarred boy next to you.

“My… perfume? You smelled me?” you ask. “You smelled me in the Amortentia?”

Remus flushes with embarrassment. He feels like he should’ve known better than to trust Sirius on this. He was a self-proclaimed ladies’ man afterall. 

Remus nods. He doesn’t know if he trusts his voice, but then he starts rambling.

“I thought… Sirius said you couldn’t look away from me so he said I had a chance, but obviously, if you don’t feel the same way… I don’t want this to change anything between us. I don’t want it to be awkward. I really value our friendship. I’m so sorry if I just ruined it, but I like you. I really do. I have for a while, but I’ll try to stop if it makes you uncomfort-”

“Remus,” you say firmly as you grab his arm. 

He stops talking immediately. His eyes search yours for an answer that he realizes he probably cut off. 

“What do you always carry with you and share with me in the library?” you ask, your voice just as firm.

“Chocolate?” His brows bunch in confusion.

“And what you always, always have a fresh roll of?”

“Parchment?”

“And… I may have smelled one more thing. In the Amortentia.” You took a breath. “Your cologne.”

“My cologne?” he echoes like how you had repeated him earlier. 

You wait for him to connect the dots, pressing your lips together. 

“So you smelled chocolate, parchment and my cologne?”

“Don’t forget nail polish.”

He chuckles. He takes your hand that’s on his arm and holds it in his own. 

“What you’re saying is that I do have a chance? That Sirius was right?” 

“Sirius was right,” you laugh. 

“In that case, would you like to come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“I would love to come to Hogsmeade with you, Remus,” you answered with a smile.

Maybe Sirius does know a thing or two about girls, Remus thinks as he walks with you to your next class. 

Tags: @oursweetmoony, @pinkdaiisies, @iloveremmy, @3sriracha, @auntjezzy

[butterflys-corner]

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗿.. ♤

Summary: The monster trio took your lovers' quarrel just a tad bit too far, leaving you to cool off alone. Until you weren't. [Warnings: Swearing, arguing, established relationships, hurtful words, mentions of kidnapping, angst and sad parts!]

Luffy

Your romance with Luffy was never simple. That's what you liked about it.

One day was a lazy nap here and there, sharing snacks together and an occasional game of tag you supervised. Others were full of adventures with your energetic captain, you and one of the others along side him as he explored a new island.

But today was no such casual day.

For weeks now, you along with the other Straw Hats sailed closer and closer to an uncharted island. Nami, Miss Navigator herself, has never heard of an island being here, but her log pose pointed toward it. So onward you went.

The closer you got, the worse everyone felt.

Luffy was more tired and annoyed, Zoro more unfocused, Nami growing evermore well.. bitchy. Robin and Franky alike argued themselves, Chopper growing more antsy under the constant bickering. Usopp and Brook seemed more skittish if it were possible. Jinbei was more to himself, if it even made sense. And of course Sanji was effected in his way, no longer doting on the females aboard how he usually did.

Today the Straw Hats landed on the strange island, the foreboding emptiness making everyone feel on edge. The usually joyous captain included.

You almost never fought, his more airheaded nature being canceled out by your intellectual one. But as the Sunny reached the shore of the island and Zoro dropped anchor, the unease in everyone grew tremendously.

"Luffy," you start quietly, a tremble in your voice. "Maybe we should go to another island? This doesn't seem-"

"Nah. This one is fine. Hop to it, crew!" Your brows furrow and you sidestep, stopping him from gum gumming his way off the deck.

"No. Really, Cap. I don't think this is a good idea-"

"Are you going against your captain's wishes?"

A deadly silence as everyone stops in their tracks.

Luffy never talked to you like that.

"Excuse me?" You cut through the tense silence, arms firmly crossed against your chest- the way everyone knew you wouldn't back down from the argument.

The resident swordsman and sharpshooter had come to the side of either of you, the latter holding scarred hands in the space between you. They shook, unsure of if he should touch you.

"I'm the captain of this crew. That never changed. We're going." The lack of chipper tone in his voice scratched against the very wrong part of your brain as your upper lip curled into a sneer.

"Hey, Y/n, come on.." Usopp tried his best to coax you back, his rough fingertips creeping around your bicep. But you wouldn't back down. No way.

"Well, Captain," you practically spit the venom onto the deck, teeth gritted as you spoke. "I'm keeping my happy ass here. You die, you die on your own."

You didn't mean it, of course. But you knew that was the only way to get through to the rubber man.

"Fine. Stay here. I don't care."

He... didn't care?

"Fine." You huff and tear your arm away from Usopp in a furious snap. You climb into the crows nest and keep watch, the captain and the others' forms disappearing on the horizon.

Your thoughts brewed as you paced the crows nest. They were so loud, you failed to hear someone sneaking their way on board- into the room with you.

A struggled shriek under a firm hand, black spots lining your vision, and a muffled voice of a man is all you remember.

Everyone was gone- Captain Monkey D. Luffy included, while you and the Thousand Sunny were abducted from the island cape.

Zoro

Everyone has off days. It's inevitable.

But damn if you haven't been having an off week, constantly bickering back and forth with your meathead of a swordsman, Zoro.

It was one thing or the other with him recently. He trained too hard and hurt himself (which was rare), you decided to take things in your own hands and made a mess of your duties, you snapped at your best friend, Nami was upset at the both of you- it was a mess of a week.

So, when you realized that Zoro wouldn't give up the petty stalemate, you thought you would. Or you would at least attempt to.

"Zoro," you started with a small breath. You know he wasn't one to easily discuss arguments, preferring avoiding the topic as much as possible.

But this was too important.

"I know you hate this kind of conversation-"

You already noticed his attention going to polishing the blades of his swords. You bite back grievances, taking another calming breath.

"But this is important. We can't keep-"

"Fighting?" He grumbles, not bothering to look up as he dabs polish onto the metal.

"Exactly," you nod. He always had that way of acutely knowing what would come out of your mouth next.

"Well, I'm not fighting you. I'm just doing my own thing." He dismissed you almost too easily as your heart clenched.

"If we aren't really speaking, that's not really fixing anything either-"

"-because not talking is just as bad."

Another annoyingly accurate finishing of your sentence. Another few dabs of polish on the dark grey blade.

"If you can't take this serious-"

"-usly you can just go."

"Okay, really? I'm trying, Roronoa. More than your stubborn ass has."

"I see no point." He hadn't lied, he really didn't see the point in dwelling on a fight he didn't remember the start of.

Your arms cross over your chest, eyes disapproving as you look down at him.

"The point is figuring this shit out and being able to be in the same vicinity without this.. dumb shit that we're doing right now." You grow angrier, hating when he would do this after fights. Act like nothing happened and just keep to himself until you came around.

"You're the one keeping it up," that was the final straw in the hat. You shriek behind gritted teeth and your arms fall from your sides, hands clenched in aggravated claws.

"You know what? Forget it. I don't want shit to do with you right now."

"You'll come back again," Zoro lowly speaks, dark olive eyes looking over the sword blade as he held it against the sunlight.

"Oh, you'll miss me so bad, Roronoa. I'm going into the village. Stay here with your precious swords."

He grunted in response, half of his brain cutting that out of his ears.

Oh, how true it would turn out to be.

You walked through the village of the island, honestly just wanting to blow off steam and reconcile later with your sword weilder. But you wouldn't make it back to the ship.

"You're Roronoa's woman, yeah?" Some random man had spoken over the busy bar. You sat at the counter, drink glass long since empty as you just held onto the rim.

"Who's asking?"

"You're her alright."

The last thing you remember was your head spinning after the impact of.. you didn't know what it was, it was just hard and painful. Your eyes fluttered shut, your head already starting to ache.

And your stubborn pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro stayed up all night waiting for you to return to no avail.

Sanji

You were never a jealous person, really. You were content with your life, your looks, even your choice in lovesick boyfriend.

Sanji, however, was a different breed. He would glare at other men with looks that could kill. He would roll up his sleeves like one of those boxing types, light a cigarette and step to bat over you.

Normally you love when he does it. It made you feel special, worth fighting for. But right now, you couldn't be bothered with showing your favor toward him.

All you asked was for him to come along on a trip to the market.

That's all. A trip to the market.

Now he's nose to nose with a bigger man, who wasn't even bothering you, because you wanted something nearby and the man happened to be in the way.

"Gods, Sanji, let's go already." You practically begged him, the cook not stepping down from the fight he picked. At least there was that.

"Right after I put this bastard in his place, Y/n." You sigh with crossed arms and look at the bags Sanji carried for you. They better not get messed up.

"Fine. I'll meet you at the ship. This is ridiculous." You didn't really wait for him to answer. If he wants to fight then-

"Oh~ What fine ladies you are! Such delicate curls and eyes as beautiful as gemstones!"

That made you stop.

"Excuse me?" You did a full one-eighty, facing the blond cook again. Sure enough, he forgot about the fight he was just in- over you no less- for some island women that passed by.

Like you thought, the lovesick cook was fawning over two ladies. The man before was gone and your annoyance grew tenfold.

"Sanji." His name left your lips in an angry growl, the two ladies looking you up and down, sizing you up in a way.

Paying them no mind, since well they honestly weren't a match for you, you step closer and grab the cook by the suit collar and spinning him around.

"Sanji Vinsmoke, you better be joking."

"I'm sorry, my love! Those beautiful ladies were just too delectable to let pass me by!"

You did not want to hear that.

"Unbelievable," you shake your head, curly brows only swooning at you with his usual interlocked hands at his cheek.

"Don't follow me." You stomped away and left him in the shopping plaza, another woman catching his attention as you did.

So that hopelessly romantic fool left you to walk to the ship alone, but you never made it.

Before you even made it to the docks, a mysterious figure had nabbed you from an alleyway.

Sanji had made it to the ship, a few gifts to soothe your anger with him. He searched your usual hang out spots for you to no avail.

He realized then that something happened to you, and that the last thing that happened was he paid attention to other women.

He had a lot more than just making you upset to make up for later.

Sanji's was a bit rushed, I apologize. I was just tired of seeing this in my drafts ;^;

[Header credits: @yur1ed1ts @artistslayouts ] If I can find the other art tag I will add it!

[millieisawriter]

Oh, baby

arthur morgan x reader

summary: arthur being a sweet baby daddy, even if you aren't as optimistic

wc: 2k

tw: accidental/unwanted pregnancy

all pics taken from pinterest

based on this request

a/n: yeeeehaw finally back from my break

Getting pregnant wasn’t ever something you planned nor wanted to happen. Hooking up with Arthur, you were aware of the possible consequences. Both of you were, but the consequences aren’t something you thought about during the heat of the moment. And now you were living with them. Suffering through them.

Meanwhile Arthur didn’t seem so upset.You supposed you were somewhat lucky he was the one that got you pregnant, he wasn’t running off or pretending it wasn’t happening. But his optimism was starting to piss you off. From the day you had told him, he’s been attentive, caring, and a little happier. He wasn’t that grumpy guy the gang had known anymore. Now, he had a reason to be happy, perhaps even to live.

“Brought you somethin’.”

Arthur’s voice cut through the spiraling thoughts in your head as you sat alone by the fire. No bottle nor a cigarette in your hand, as it would’ve usually been. Now you had to be careful.

You looked at Arthur as he sat down beside you on the log. “What’s that?” You muttered as he handed you a small brown paper package.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Open it and see.”

You frowned, but curiosity got the best of you and your fingers ripped the paper. Inside, there was a blanket. A new one, not stolen. It was neatly folded, soft, and warm. For the baby.

Your stomach twisted. The moment your fingers brushed over the fabric, it all felt even more real. As if it hadn’t already been real enough. And this wasn’t even the first thing Arthur had bought. If things were different, maybe you’d be happy. If you were different. But you weren’t. You didn’t want any of this.

“You keep buying all these things,” you said.

Arthur replied as if that was the most obvious thing. “Somebody has to think ahead.”

“And that somebody is you?”

“Well, I’m the father.”

You scoffed and shoved the blanket back at him. “Yeah, well, I don’t want it.”

“Ain’t for you,” he shot back, his tone softening when he realized he shouldn’t have snapped back so harshly, “it’s for the baby.”

You stood up. It’s been baby this and baby that for the past few months. No wonder it was starting to get on your nerves. “I can’t wait until this,” you gestured at your stomach, “is finally over so I can go get shitfaced.”

Arthur didn’t smirk, knowing it wasn’t a joke. He didn’t even reply, not having the words. He tried, he really tried to help you warm up to the idea. There wasn’t much he could do. He had searched for solutions to make your problem disappear. Doctors had the skills and tools to help you out, but the problem was it wasn’t legal. Doctors were scared of helping ordinary people in that matter, let alone outlaws wanted in many states with bounties bigger than the money you’ve ever made.

“I just… I hate this, Arthur,” you admitted finally, “I hate feeling slow. Weak. I hate the way y’all look at me like I ain’t me no more.”

Arthur stood up as well. Looking down at your face, he saw how glassy your eyes were. You didn’t want to cry, you were fighting it. “Ain’t nobody thinks you’re weak,” Arthur tried to assure you.

You scoffed. “Oh, please, don’t tell me you don’t see it. The way the gang treats me like I’m fragile. Like I ain’t spent the last few years robbing and shooting and killing right beside y’all.”

“Difference is, now you don’t live just for yourself.”

Arthur paused, and so did you. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. The kind of silence that made the night around you feel overwhelming. You wished you could run, run away from all your problems.

Arthur continued, “I know this ain’t what you wanted. I know you’re scared—”

“I ain’t scared.”

But you knew he was right. You were scared, you had no idea how to be a mother. This had never been in the cards for you. You were an outlaw first, a woman second. And now, you were going to be a mother first.

Arthur let out a breath slowly. “Ain’t a crime to be scared,” he said, “hell, I’m scared too. But we can deal with this, you have me. Me and everyone else in this gang.”

“I don’t know how to do this, Arthur,” you muttered, your voice low.“I don’t wanna do this. I ain’t no mother material, and you ain’t exactly cut out to be a father either.”

Well, that hurt, but you had no idea about his past, about Isaac. The day Isaac and Eliza died, Arthur promised to himself that if he gets another chance, he’ll do better. And maybe you were his another chance.

“I tried,” Arthur sat back down on the log, his elbows on his knees as he stared into the dying fire, “tried to find someone, a doc, a midwife, someone who could help you. Ain’t no one who’d do it, not for us. Not for you. They’re scared to do it for normal folk, we can’t even dream of it.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but then closed it without a word. You swallowed, despite your mouth being suddenly dry. There really was no way out.

You sat down next to Arthur, closer than ever, so close your legs touched. The thing that really got to you was that he had tried. That he had gone looking, knowing well that helping you meant getting rid of something he clearly wanted to keep. Something that was important to him.

“Why?” You asked suddenly.

Arthur turned to look at you. “Why what?”

“Why did you try to help me?”

“Cause I care about you.”

Your throat tightened, and you hated it. You weren’t supposed to cry. Not over this. Not over him.

He continued. “I ain’t gonna pretend I don’t want this kid. I do. But I ain’t the one who’s gotta carry the burden, and I sure as hell ain’t the one who’s gotta go through all this. You are.”

You sniffed and looked away. “Well, ain’t no fixing it now, I guess.”

“No,” the man nodded slowly.

There was silence again, but now just a bit more comfortable. You could hear the soft hum of the night, a distant owl, the fire crackling in front of you, the wind dancing with the leaves. Maybe this wasn’t going to be that bad.

“Now,” Arthur gave your knee a light squeeze as he pushed himself to his feet, “you eaten yet?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I have. That thing makes me eat everything in sight.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at you, his gaze telling you he didn’t exactly believe your words.

You huffed. “Okay. I haven’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Sit here for a moment.”

He turned around to bring you something to eat. Something he got in town, something that wasn’t Pearson’s stew.

And you weren’t going anywhere. You hadn’t moved from your place at the fire for the past few hours. That was how most of your days looked lately. From time to time, someone else would join you, but the more pregnant you were, the more snappy you were. At some point it became easier to leave you alone.

“Eat,” Arthur ordered as he gave you some bread, cheese, and an apple. Then, he reached into his satchel to take out a chocolate bar.

It was a lovely gesture. The food wasn’t some fancy dinner, but not like you expected anything fancy. Fancy isn’t a thing when it comes to any aspect of the outlaw life. The food was simple, but better than whatever was floating in Pearson’s stew.

“Thank you.”

You bit into the bread first, interchangeably taking bites of the cheese. Then, not having fully swallowed the cheese yet, you opened the chocolate and took a few bites. And later on you finished it off with the apple.

You didn’t deserve that kind of understanding. Arthur had wanted this baby. He was probably excited, dreaming about a future you couldn’t bring yourself to imagine. Even if he himself would deny it, you knew he deserved better.

Out of a sudden, you asked, “Why ain’t you mad at me?”

Arthur frowned. “Why would I be mad?”

“Because I don’t want this, and you do. I’ve been a pain in the ass to everyone, you included.”

“You have every right to be like this. Your body isn’t yours anymore. I’d be mad as hell if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur was so understanding it made you nauseous. You wanted to hit him and cuddle into him at the same time.

Then, you felt something. As you threw the apple core into the fire, you felt a weird sensation in your belly. Some shifting, pressing from the inside. Then, a sharp kick.

“What the hell?” You hissed, looking down at the curve of your belly.

Arthur straightened immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It just kicked me,” your hands went to your stomach, fingers pressing against the spot, feeling the kick again. “You want me to throw you a real punch, little bastard?”

You heard Arthur laugh. His laughter was genuine, probably for the first time ever.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if a baby was trying to kick its way out of your guts, Arthur.” You groaned, rubbing a hand over your belly. Another kick made you jolt slightly. It wasn’t something you were used to, the baby didn’t kick before. “Keep that up and I’ll— ouch!”

Arthur’s laughter died down, and now he was just smiling as he leaned in. He hesitated before saying, “Lemme feel.”

You looked at him with disbelief. “What?”

“The baby. Lemme feel the kicks.”

You sighed, eyeing him for a moment before grabbing his wrist and placing his hand on your belly. His touch was warm, but soft. When you let go of his wrist, his hand practically hovered millimeters above your skin as if he were scared of pressing too hard.

For a second, there was nothing. You were about to tell him to forget it when another kick landed right against his hand. Arthur stilled completely. You could see his face firstly flash with a surprise, which soon switched into a smile. He looked damn near mesmerized.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, eyes focused on where his hand rested.

You could see it in his face, how much this meant to him. It was strange, seeing Arthur Morgan like that. He looked younger somehow, hopeful in a way you hadn’t seen the whole time you knew him.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat. “Told you. Little shit’s got an attitude already.”

Arthur grinned. “Must take after you.”

You looked at the man as he kept his attention on your stomach. Nobody was arguing, nobody was scheming, nobody was running from the law. Just the two of you sitting there, Arthur’s palm resting against your stomach, feeling the proof of the thing that had turned your whole damn world upside down.

After a while, he finally broke the silence. “You ever think maybe this don’t gotta be as bad as you think?”

You didn’t answer right away, because, yeah, you had thought about it. Not in a hopeful way, not in the way Arthur had, but in a tired, resigned sort of way. You weren’t getting rid of it. You weren’t running from it. Whether you liked it or not, this was happening.

Then, suddenly, all you said was, “We can’t let the baby become like us.” And your voice finally carried a softness that wasn’t there for the past few months.

Arthur smiled, finally pulling his hand away. “We won’t.”

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the teeth, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the T.V.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

[themultifanshipper]

nobody gets me when i say daniel x oscar x reader but i need it desperately

“What's an Aussie kiss?” 

Or, the story of how Mark Webber’s existence led to a series of very fortunate events. 

Warnings: smut, threesome, mention of alcohol, oral, brief anal play, the sloppiest two person blowjobs, just pure filth, anti FIA propaganda lmao, also bad dirty talk? 

Being Daniel's ex-teammate, and current best friend, you knew a lot of Aussie slang. 

And you'd learned even more upon becoming Oscar's teammate. 

You were in a club, and for some godforsaken reason, you were squashed in between Mark and Oscar, with Daniel on the other side of the table in the small booth. 

And then you'd met Oscar's manager Mark, and, well… whenever the three of them found themselves together, your head would start pounding within minutes of them starting a conversation. 

“F1 has gone soft!” Mark slurred, already halfway into a coma. “And it wasn't even that long ago that we could swear freely and make dirty jokes without FIA cunts breathing down our necks!” 

His drink sloshed around his glass as he spoke, and you managed to dodge the spills despite being in the splash zone. 

Daniel laughed and added “Yeah, you couldn't talk about Aussie kisses nowadays without being fined!” 

The three of them laughed freely, taking sips of their drinks. 

Everyone had seen the famous clip of Mark. 

Unfortunately, you had not. And that delightful little nugget had never come up in conversation before. 

So you turned to Mark, and drunkenly asked “What's an Aussie kiss?”, much to the delight of your two fellow drivers. 

“You'll find out when you're older, kid” he smirked and you scoffed. 

When he tried to get up to order more drinks, he swayed so badly that Daniel had to catch him to avoid him falling onto the table. 

“Okay old man” he chuckled “let's get you an uber while you're still conscious” 

He led Mark through the crowd towards the exit, leaving you and Oscar to laugh at their retreating figures. 

“He's such a lightweight” Oscar giggled. 

"You're one to talk!” you slapped him on the shoulder “Your cheeks are redder than a fucking Ferrari” 

“Oh yeah?” he smiled at you, “At least I know what an Aussie kiss is” he bit his lip teasingly. 

The way he said it made a shiver run down your spine. Despite not knowing what it meant, you felt the urge to ask him to show you. 

You were suddenly very aware of how close you were, and the heat of his thigh against yours made your stomach clench. 

You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward tension and took a shy sip of your drink. 

“Don't suppose you’re going to tell me, are you?” 

He chuckled and bumped his knee against yours under the table. 

“Like the old man said, you'll find out when you're older” he teased. 

Even though there was only a year between you two, you always felt like he was the mature one of the team. The older and wiser teammate. 

You found that quite attractive, if you were fully honest. And with the amount of alcohol in you system, you definitely wouldn't hesitate to say so if asked the question. 

“Fine, I'll just ask Daniel, I'm sure he would be happy to show me” 

Oscar rolled his eyes dismissively, absolutely hating the idea of you going to someone else, just as Daniel stepped back into the booth and sat down where Mark had been a few minutes before. 

His thigh was now firmly pressed against you, and you suddenly felt very overwhelmed by their presence. 

“Dannyyy” you whined “Oscar won't tell me what an Aussie kiss is!” 

Daniel just laughed. 

“That's because he probably doesn't have much experience in that domain. I on the other hand-“ 

“Uh, actually I have more than you think!” Oscar interrupted and Daniel grinned at him. 

“Sure you do Piastri, but I’ve had at least a decade of practice more than you so-“ 

Oscar scoffed and gave him the finger. 

“Guys!” You slapped the table to grab their attention. “Just tell me and I’ll be the judge!” 

Oscar hesitated. He was slipping into dangerous territory right now. 

He was very attracted to you, and would love nothing better than to spend the night showing you his uhh… kissing abilities. 

But you were all far too drunk to make any rational decision making, and Daniel's presence was making him uneasy. 

Not to mention you were his teammate and friend. 

Daniel was thinking along the same lines. You were his drunk best friend, and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of you. 

“I'll tell you what” he piped up. “If you ask again when you're sober, we'll show you” 

They nodded at each other. They both wanted you, but they needed you to be clear headed. 

There was absolutely no chance you would remember this tomorrow, so this was their safest bet. 

You warily agreed, and the subject was quickly changed. 

What they didn't know, is that that night, before you went to bed completely hammered, you set a reminder on your phone. 

“lok up Ausie Kiiis on gogle” 

Well, at least it was readable to you the next day. 

And you did look it up. And found the video of Mark, which made you laugh. 

But as the night before came flooding back in your mind, you remembered Daniel's offer. 

They wanted you. They wanted to do that to you.  

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as the thought of the two of them between your legs made you gasp. Yep, it had to happen. 

Daniel and Oscar really thought they were out of the woods when they didn't hear from you all day. But then, in the evening came a text from a group chat you'd created with the two of them. 

There was a screenshot of the urban dictionary result, and few simple words that made both men twitch in their pants. 

“Instructions unclear, demonstration necessary. Room 312” 

Oscar being only a few rooms away in the same hotel meant that he got there within two minutes of his phone buzzing. 

As soon as you opened the door your were lifted by your thighs and carried over to your bed. 

He crawled over you, not giving you so much as a hello before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss. 

He was going to make the most of Daniel’s delay. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into it when you felt his hands wandering over your body teasingly, making quick work of your outer layers. 

“Jesus Osc” you panted as his lips travelled downwards, sucking and nipping at the skin of your neck. “If you were this desperate to touch me you could have just asked” 

He grunted into your skin, continuing his descent and leaving soft kisses over your barely covered breasts. 

“Didn't know you'd be into it too.” He mumbled “I didn't want to make anything awkward” 

Any response you had quickly died on your tongue when you felt a fingers brush against your clothed cunt. 

“Soaked through your panties already?” he chuckled darkly, rubbing against you with more pressure.  

You blushed, hips bucking against his hand. 

“Please, Oscar” you whimpered into your hands that were covering your face. 

“Please what?” he teased, sliding a finger under the fabric and ghosting it over your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck me, please” you whined. 

He laughed softly. “But darling, that's not why you invited me here, is it? And in any case I think we should wait for Daniel, don't you?” 

You huffed impatiently. 

“If you're that wound up, why don't you come here and let me use that pretty mouth of yours, hmm? It'll give you something to do while we wait…” 

Daniel almost broke his neck by tripping in the stairs while running as fast as he could to get to you. 

When he wrenched the door to your room open he scoffed at the sight of you on your knees at the foot of the bed. 

“Couldn't even wait for me, could you. Bastards…” 

He ripped his shirt off and made his way over to the bed. 

“I had to shut her up somehow, she's so fucking needy” Oscar pulled you off his cock and helped you to your feet. 

Daniel cooed and leaned down to kiss you, and expertly unclasped your bra while Oscar dragged your underwear down your legs. 

The kiss with Daniel quickly turned filthy, and he walked you slowly towards the bed and pushed you down on it. 

“So who gets first dibs?” Oscar asked, eyeing your body and smirking at the goosebumps appearing on your flesh as you gazed up at the two men. 

“How about Oscar first, since he was gentlemanly enough to wait till you got here?” you offered and they shrugged in agreement. 

“Works for me, that way I'll get to prove I'm better afterwards” 

You and Oscar both rolled your eyes at Daniel's statement, and the younger man quickly spread your legs and kneeled in between them. 

You were dripping already, and at the first swipe of his tongue through your folds, Oscar thought he'd died and gone to heaven.  

He groaned, lapping up your juices, and then alternated between fucking you with his tongue and circling it around your sensitive clit. 

You were moaning freely, gasping at every change of pace and pressure.  

There was definitely no denying it, he knew what he was doing. 

When he sucked on your clit your back arched, letting out whiny little moans as he made your legs tremble in no time, your thighs trying to close around his head. 

Daniel, despite not touching you, was having the time of his life. 

He was sitting next to you on the bed, and from this angle he could see every tremor, every micro-expression as you writhed under Oscar's undeniably skilled mouth. 

You were exquisite in his opinion, and he hungrily watched your breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath after Oscar made you come all over his face. 

The younger man licked his lips hungrily as he stared up at Daniel, eyes challenging him to do better. 

You barely got any reprieve before Daniel was pushing Oscar out of the way and bending your legs at the knees. 

“Hold yourself open for me, darling” 

You did as you were told, and looked down at him while he nosed along the crease of your inner thigh. 

He pushed his tongue inside you, and you let out a gasp when his nose brushed against your clit as he moved. 

The tip of his nose was quite cold, and the difference in temperature was surprisingly pleasurable. 

But Daniel didn't plan on staying there for long, he'd come to win, even if that meant playing dirty. 

He gave your clit a teasing suck before releasing it with a pop, and slowly, his tongue made its way lower, exploring your taint, and eventually making contact with your tight rim. 

The new feeling made you shudder, and he brought a hand up to thumb at your clit in a steady rhythm while he worked his tongue against your ass. 

Your nails were digging into your own thighs where you were holding them open, and a quick glance at Oscar's expression told you he was not happy, despite being obviously turned on. 

Once Daniel could feel you loosening, he prodded his tongue inside you a little, and the sensation was so foreign to you it forced a shaky moan from your throat. 

You felt Daniels smirk against your skin and he quickly retracted his tongue, and slowly made his way back up. 

You were rapidly approaching the edge now. And the renewed attack of his mouth on your cunt was promising a spectacular finish. 

Then you felt a slight pressure lower down. 

He was rubbing his thumb against your asshole, aided by your dripping juices. 

He applied some pressure, and his thumb easily slipped inside, carefully massaging your walls while his tongue lapped at your clit hungrily. 

It took you seconds. 

You came with a loud cry as you arched your back, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm, through which Daniel helped you gently by slowing down his movements until you were shaking under him. 

He sat up and grinned at you from above. 

“So? Who was better?” 

“That's not fair, you cheated!” Oscar huffed indignantly. 

“I did not! It isn't specified how low we're allowed to go”  

“But you used your fingers! I didn't”  

“Well yeah, you gotta make use of all your assets” he wiggled his brows. 

They looked at you expectantly. 

“If one of you isn't inside me in the next 30 seconds I am kicking you both out” you muttered at the ceiling. 

They chuckled and shuffled around the bed. 

You ended up on top of Oscar, sinking down on his surprisingly thick cock while Daniel sat next to Oscar's head. 

You leaned down to take him into your mouth and he grabbed your hair in his fist in a makeshift ponytail. 

“So eager to please, isn't she Oscar? I think we’ve struck gold with this one” 

Oscar started thrusting into you slowly, and your deep groan around the cock in your mouth made Daniel mad with need as he watched you take him down eagerly. 

He then noticed Oscar was eyeing his cock with something akin to hunger in his eyes. 

“You look jealous, Oscar” he teased. “Fancy a taste?” 

He pulled you off him, and Oscar licked at his tip teasingly. 

You didn't feel like stopping though, so soon Daniel had two mouths on his cock, licking and sucking at his shaft. 

“Jesus Christ, you two are so fucking hot, what the fuck” 

You and Oscar worked in tandem, lips making brief contact as you made out with the cock between you. 

It was truly a porn worthy performance and Daniel could feel his composure slipping. 

“Fuck- stop, I'm gonna come too soon” 

He pulled you off and shuffled backwards, taking a quick breather, and Oscar laughed meanly. 

“The old man's gonna come first, that's funny” 

He was obviously just goading Daniel, but the evil glint that suddenly appeared in the older man's eyes as he got an idea made his stomach churn. 

“Wanna swap then?” he grinned, and Oscar nodded eagerly. 

Daniel lay down so you could climb on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to get used to the slightly lengthier cock, and Oscar kneeled next to him, mirroring the position from before. 

You took him down to the base first, the taste of your own slick making your eyes roll back in your head, and Oscar couldn't resist thrusting into your mouth a few times. 

“Fuckin’ hell, why were we arguing over who's better when her mouth is clearly superior”  

He gasped when you swallowed around him and used your tongue to trace the underside of his cock. 

Then you let him go with a pop, and looked at Daniel with a smirk. 

The two of you got to work, worshipping Oscar's cock with your mouths and he marveled at the sight. 

But then Daniel decided he needed to prove his superiority. 

He licked down the vein on the underside, slowly inching towards Oscar's balls. 

He licked over them, and took one into his mouth, gently sucking on it just to make Oscar lose his mind. 

“Jesus, Daniel… fuck-“ 

With Daniel working wonders down there, and you making your way up his body, currently scraping your teeth over one of his nipples, he was scared of coming before he'd even had a chance to savour the experience. 

Daniel huffed under him, drawing his attention.  

Apparently his tongue could just about reach behind Oscar's balls, but the position didn't allow him to go any further. 

“Sit on my face”  Daniel panted. 

“What?” Oscar squeaked, sure he'd misheard. 

“You heard me, come here”  he slapped Oscar's thigh to get him to move. 

Oscar didn't hesitate for long, he swung a leg over Daniel's head and hovered, facing you as he bit his lip to hide just how aroused he was at the idea. 

Daniel wrapped his arms around Oscar's thighs and slammed him down onto his eagerly waiting mouth. 

Oscar let out a high pitched moan and had to stabilise himself with a hand on Daniel's chest. 

You grabbed his hair and pulled him in for a rough kiss. 

Daniel somehow had the dexterity to pound into you from below while eating Oscar out like his life depended on it, and all the two of you could do was pant into each other's mouths as Oscar came untouched all over Daniel's chest and his own hand. 

He crawled away, and Daniel grabbed your waist to pull you down onto his cock while he rolled his hips up into you. 

“You close, beautiful? You gonna come all over my cock?” 

You nodded desperately, the new angle and speed was making you cry out in pleasure as it built up rapidly inside you. 

“Do it then, show Oscar what a good girl you are and come right now, baby” 

How you managed to stay upright will always be a mystery. The force with which your orgasm washed over you was enough to make your voice crack and your vision go momentarily dark while you rode out the most intense pleasure you'd ever felt before. 

While you waited for the feeling in your legs to come back, Oscar went to grab a washcloth to clean you all up. 

You were lying on the bed, limbs akimbo while Daniel’s cum dribbled out of you. 

“Remind me to thank Mark Webber” you said and the other two guffawed in disbelief. 

“You want to thank him? What about us, we actually fucked you!” 

You laughed. “You're right! Maybe I should ask Mark to fuck me!” 

The other two groaned. 

“Never say that again” 

You all got into bed, you in the middle, facing Oscar while Daniel spooned you from behind. 

“Well at least now I know” Daniel muttered. 

“Know what?” you asked. 

“That Piastri likes getting his ass ate” he chuckled and you burst out in a fit of giggles. 

“Fuck you” Oscar groaned. 

“In your dreams Piastri” Daniel chuckled. 

“Next time, I'm fucking you” 

“Ha!” Daniel laughed “As if !” 

But you saw the defiant look in Oscar’s eyes. 

You knew him in and out, he was not going to back down from a challenge. 

[meo-eiru]

I like to imagine Elias as an insane and extremely messy concubine from those historical cdramas PFFT. Especially in his “omg you came to see me!” Sketch. Mc would be the emperor of course! Poor guy would die to palace drama for sure.

Elias would so secretly poison another concubine if you decide to visit them at night instead of him.

This AU kinda goes hard actually I'm getting a lot of ideas.

Imagine he's the son of a normal family but was blessed with incredible good looks by the gods. Due to that beauty he was yearned by all sorts of nobles which made his family get a lot of riches as gifts but he kept refusing all of them.

Until one day you, the ruler of the country, came to personally visit him and he fell in love with you at first time, saying he would marry you even before he saw what gifts you brought for him.

It's all amazing, he's prettied up by the helpers you assign for him and you two quickly go back to your palace. He's so happy the whole way there but little did you know it's the quiet before the storm.

Once you arrive there he becomes aware of the fact that he's not your main husband but a concubine. He's distraught and extremely angry, what do you mean he has to share a rank with other man. He's clearly the most beautiful one here. Okay maybe you two don't have a child yet but so what? Are you really going to prioritize tradition before him? Even though he loves you so much? Do you not love him is that it???

After that it's just constant chaos. Your other concubines getting poisoned left and right, some of them straight up getting assassinated, a few of them returning to their village while crying due to continuous bullying. Elias even breaks into the rooms of the concubines you decide to spend the night with while you're there.

You've considered sending him back many times but you just can't bring yourself to. He's like a rare flower, with a lot of nobles keeping their eyes on him. Just his existence brings you political power, and not to mention when you do spend the night with him he's like a dream.

While he might be hurting the others due to his selfishness it's also true that he loves you in a way no other concubine does. As a ruler most of the relationships you have with your concubines are for politics but it's Elias who wraps his arms around you as soon as you enter his room. Engulfing you in the flowery scents he covered himself in and kissing you like you two are soulmates fated to be together. He's the one who looks at you with those loving eyes while his face is completely red and his body is warm under you. He's the one who holds your head in place through the whole night to make you look at him, like a sweet hypnosis he puts you under.

So it doesn't take too long for him to impregnate you with a child, quickly raising to the imperial consorts status before everyone else. It doesn't slow down his terrible behavior outside of the bedroom though. In fact it fuels it more some might say.

He has this air of superiority to him, knowing he has won against the others even while coming from a lowly background. He spends so much gold spoiling himself, buying the prettiest clothes and hair pieces, receiving the best skincare and makeup.

But you can't say no to him right? He's your beautiful rare treasure after all.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu, how are you?

Could I request a fluff fic with reverse isekai and harbinger! scaramouche please :)

harbinger!scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. reverse isekai.

i know my fluff doesn't hit as well because i know that's not why you guys are really here, but, i enjoy writing fluff so 😊

scaramouche wasn't an idiot. once he'd discovered that the stars in teyvat were fake, he got to thinking. the idea of the stars had to come from somewhere else. the second he mysteriously arrived in your world, he sure got his answer.

your world's stars have to be the blueprint for teyvat's stars.

that wasn't the curious thing though. the curious thing was you. at first, you were just a means to an end. somewhere to stay until he adjusted to your world and then he would dip.

or so he thought.

he totally didn't expect this world to deal him a hand of cards in his favor. you sure are strange to him. you are well versed for some reason about where he has come from, so he didn't really have to explain anything to you.

once you got over the shock of him actually being here right in front of you, it didn't take him long for him to figure out that you are really, really in love with him. which stretched his ego in ways you couldn't possibly imagine.

so sue him if he used that to his advantage. it was sweet how often you dote on him.

needless to say, thanks to you, it was incredibly easy for him to adjust. your worlds mechanics are more similar to teyvat's than he thought.

as you would like to say, scaramouche was soaking up reality tv like a sponge. the overblown drama was the funniest thing in the world to him. and 95% of the time, these people did it to themselves. and he got to sit back and watch it all without even lifting a finger.

"i wish i could've taken you to a harbinger banquet. the drama that can be stirred up is just as good as this," he has probably what you would describe as a shit eating smirk on his face as he watched this woman cry about one guy she likes not returning her affection because she slept with his best friend.

scaramouche struggles to understand sentiment sometimes. this woman was waxing on about how she couldn't stop thinking about the guy she realizes she has more feelings for. about she even thought about him at night while she fell asleep. but she was losing sleep because she always was thinking about him.

"what is this shrew even talking about?" he scoffs, "she talks in a tone like all woman are like this. you either think about him while you fall asleep or you don't. how is she losing sleep thinking about him then?" he glances over at you, and immediately grits his teeth.

why did you have to look so cute right now?

you are having a delayed reaction of sorts. oh you heard every word he said, but you are still processing something he said before his rant. you had a soft, happy smile on your face while you fidget with your fingers. 'i can't believe he just said that to me. he said he wishes he could take me to a harbinger banquet. that would make it kind of like a date, right? should i bring it up later? or-'

"did you even hear a word i said?" scaramouche's voice cuts right through your pounding heart in your ears, and your racing thoughts.

"i think she is being truthful, at least in that respect," you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. things have been very hard for you lately to say the least.

you enjoy actually being able to dote on scaramouche in ways you thought you never would've been able to. he is a fictional character, this shouldn't be possible. but sometimes you can barely handle being in his presence. it really reminds you of how in love with him you really are. he just flusters you so much.

and it shows all over your face.

scaramouche's eyes widen for a moment. what was with you? you usually made fun of these people with him. but there was something about your voice that sounds different now. like you relate to what she said a lot. "oh?" he raises his eyebrow in indication for you to continue.

"mhm, i do think she is being truthful," boy, did you know what she was talking about. "i have lost so many hours of sleep thinking about you. what she meant by losing sleep is she tosses and turns in bed thinking some kind of activity will force her to stop thinking about him, but it doesn't work. she can only think about him while her tossing and turning keeps her from sleeping," once you start talking however, you can't seem to stop.

"i have lost so much sleep doing exactly that. there is not one girl, no scratch that. there not one person on this earth that doesn't have someone they lose sleep thinking about like that," you took a breath to steady yourself, very firm on standing your ground. any second you knew scaramouche was going to cut in so you have to quick.

"for god's sake, i barely sleep knowing you are in the room next to mine. especially when i know i would.." you trail off in a fit of shy. you can barely bring yourself to finish what you are saying.

that you knew you would sleep so much better if you could be curled up next to him.

scaramouche snorts, and taps his index finger on your lips. "i hear you up at night, you know," he teased, smirking as your eyes widen for a moment as the blush on your cheeks darkens.

"huh? you do? i tried to be as quiet as possible. the last thing i wanted to do was disturb you," how?! you worked so hard to stay quiet at night.

"it's not disturbing me. i just have extra sensitive hearing," you couldn't help but smile a little bit at his response. it was his bristly way of reassuring you. this is why you are so interesting. you just confessed to being in love with him without actually saying it. it feels strangely...nice to him when he has these moments with you.

"since you humans are fragile enough to need sleep, i will sleep in the same bed as you so that you can sleep. i am not opposed to it," he glares at you, daring you to protest.

"you aren't?" you reply with shy hesitation that he quite frankly found adorable.

"i don't like being in debt to people. so consider that as repaying my debt you," things would've been a lot harder for him without you. and it didn't even make sense to him that you stay in a separate room at night.

"you are such a man, scara. and i mean they in the best way," you reply, smiling at him. it startles scaramouche how much he has been anticipating your smiles lately. you usually look away shyly at moments like this. and he was glad you didn't.

oh please, go on. he knows how great he is.

"let's watch these people implode themselves more," he clears his throat and unpauses the tv. he didn't even realize he automatically did it when you started talking. he glances at you and sighs.

you seem unsure of what to do now. you kept giving him side glances, looking at him for some sort of guidance. he realizes he can genuinely get used to the feeling of you depending on him for once.

sighing, he put his arm around you, bringing your head to rest on his chest. he mimics breathing for you to relax

[tricoloreddango]

All’s fair in love and war, part 2 [final]

Yandere Mydei x female reader

Summary: You end up pregnant with your enemy’s child. Mydei takes advantage of your misfortune.

Contents: pregnant reader, babytrapping, Mydei’s lore spoilers, reader gets called a degrading word (not by Mydei), arranged marriage (coerced), violence, overprotective Mydei, Hades and Persephone elements, suggestiveness, overprotectiveness, angst, murder mentions. [part one]

Word count: 3.9k

Today was the most nervous day for you in a while. You and Mydei were anticipating your father’s arrival, and you felt nothing but terrified to admit the truth about the fact that you got pregnant with his most despised foe. Mydei has been trying to be reassuring, stating that at least you will put this conflict between his and your father’s people to an end; along with him promising you to be the one doing the talking. The idea of letting any harm come to you was much more ridiculous especially.

And you should have been assured. But seeing how composed Mydei looked, you didn’t really like his nonchalance. It was as if the situation worked out for him a bit too well. Just how happy Mydei was at the prospect of starting a family with you? All of this reaction made you feel out of place and misunderstood.

When your father entered the ruins of Kremnos you agreed to meet at, Mydei put his body slightly ahead of you, as if willing to guard you and your baby in case of aggression.

Your father was quick to judge, “What is the meaning of this, my daughter?” His voice was angry already, making you feel an unease already. Of course he wouldn’t like to see you and Mydei together, and he was confused when did you two even met.

“Father, listen…” you started nervously but Mydei interjected. He was straight to the point as usual, hating a small talk. “I want to marry your daughter. Give me her hand in marriage.” The absolute shock on your father’s face made you extremely guilty immediately. You were about to have your betrayal revealed… and the idea of admitting that you let an enemy spill his seed inside of you was the most shameful.

“What did you just say?” he asked even more angrily and walked towards you both. Mydei put his arm ahead of you to stop him. “What are you doing with him? Are you telling me you agree if you’re here with him?!”

“She is—” Mydei tried to say but your father wasn’t having it. “No, you bastard. Let her speak before I feel like disinheriting her!

Tears filled your eyes and while your dad softened for a moment at the sigh, having loved you ever since you were just a baby, he was still too angry and confused. “Speak,” he repeated.

You’ve been preparing yourself for this for the past week, but all the strength you’ve gathered was gone when facing your father, like a bobble being burst. “Father…” you started crying. “I’m pregnant. With Lord Mydei,” you admitted with shame.

You’ve never seen murderous look on your father’s face. He automatically assumed this man must have taken advantage of you, not even for a moment thinking you’d do this willingly. Well, you didn’t want to get pregnant—that wasn’t planned. But your affair was your choice. So he immediately tried to attack Mydei. You panicked as you saw him charge and screamed before a deadly fight could erupt, “No, it’s my fault!”

That stopped old man in tracks. First there was confusion painted on his face, then disbelief, and then… disgust. His own daughter…? Your mother will faint once she receives a letter later from his temporary location. The commander and his wife will become grandparents, yet he wasn’t sure of the joy it’s supposed to bring.

You were crying ugly, knowing how much you disappointed your father by choosing to sleep with his and yours enemy. You were a warrior too, now reduced to a future mother with a man so hated by your people and a mere baby crying from the consequences of your own actions, no matter how strong you were when fighting. “I didn’t mean to get pregnant, I swore I was using—”

“Be quiet,” he said coldly. “Watch your mouth,” Mydei said in your defense; not that your parent cared. “My daughter is nothing but a whore and you’re telling me to watch my—” Your father didn’t finish his sentence as he got punched in the face by your lover. You gasped and grabbed onto Mydei’s naked chest. As much as hearing such terms from your father hurt incredibly, you still loved him and felt protective enough to not let any pain come to him.

“Mydei, stop this! You two stop this!” you screamed and now were sobbing hard. Mydei turned around to look at you, something like worry flashing across his face. He wasn’t an expert in pregnancies but the medic have told him you need to avoid stress, for your and baby’s sake. Mydei pulled you to his side to hold you and rubbed your arm up and down. You couldn’t help but lean onto him, feeling weak and in need of comfort. “Don’t cry,” he said more gently before his voice was rough again as he spoke to the opponent. “Get up. We’re going to explain everything before I will beat you up for real,” he threatened.

Your father wanted to fight and curse further, however he needed many answers. The disgust at your betrayal didn’t leave though. You winced at how much bruised his cheek was now.

“Good. Now listen to me very carefully,” Mydei started. “It’s true your daughter has been sleeping with your opponent and that she ended up conceiving my child. But me offering this marriage could be beneficial for both sides.”

“Beneficial? How is this betrayal beneficial-” your father asked with another portion of anger but then he finally understood the meaning of this union. “… You speak of a treaty. You want me to sacrifice my daughter to end this war?” The idea was clearly uncomfortable to him. While he wasn’t a lenient person and he was mad at you stabbing him in the back, he still felt a natural sense of patently duty towards you. “You really are a scoundrel,” he scoffed. “She’s not an offering to gods!”

“I’m not sacrificing your daughter,” Mydei said seriously. “I’m only making sure this child is not born out of wedlock. Us setting a peace is just an extra part. You wouldn’t want your child to end up as a lonely mother, would you?”

Of course your father didn’t want that. Not only it’d be distasteful in the eyes of his people, he doubted you’d manage on your own. It was only a matter of him not being able to accept that for all these months, you’ve been lying behind his back.

But it didn’t mean this marriage wouldn’t be a blessing in a way. His people were tired. He was tired. You were tired. Yours and theirs safety and wellbeing came first. Your father looked at you, glad your tears were disappearing. He needed you coherent for you to answer him truthfully, “Do you even want this or is he pressuring you to marry?” Mydei clenched his jaw, staring your father coldly.

Now this was a difficult and complex question for you. You have never planned to marry Mydei, have a child—so you weren’t happy about this situation. On the other hand, a sense of duty towards your tribe, having remembered all the lost lives and souls; it kept you thinking you should do this. To you, this wasn’t even about the child having their future secured.

“It’s my decision, father…” you spoke hesitantly, but then you forced conviction into your voice, “… I think Lord Mydei is right. Not only this child needs a father, I also want our people to finally rest easy. I know they need some closure…” You felt Mydei tighten his grip on you at your words. You didn’t even dare to look at his face, scared you’ll see the same triumph you have seen the day you announced the news.

Your father closed his eyes, a thought on his face. He had to make a difficult decision. There was no good answer as in both cases there is something to give up: it was about choosing a lesser evil. Giving his daughter away to his enemy or denying his people or the end to this conflict. He opened his eyes, the shade exactly like yours, his blood running through your veins.

“You know what this means? That I’ll have to give you away to this man?” he asked, and you noticed a slight tremble in his tone. His flesh and blood, being taken away from him sounded most excruciating to a parent. You nodded, already feeling like crying again. None of you wanted to be separated from each other, even if your father might never forgive you.

“In that case… you better take a good care of my dear child, Lord Mydei,” he said seriously, not hiding his resignation.

“I will,” Mydei said with honesty. He didn’t care about anything else, now that he finally had you for himself. He was scared of the idea of being a father, but he loved this child already—even if your belly was barely showing, especially under your clothes; maybe because he was denied of childhood himself after his father’s sins…

“I won’t let any harm come to my betrothed or her child,” he added with an honor.

Your father took his words as truthful, however he had a condition. There’s no way he’d leave you in the lion’s jaw with no space. “We’ve made a responsible decision already, but… I have to ask you for one more thing.”

Mydei didn’t have a good feeling about the proposal, but he put his free hand in front of himself as a gesture that he’s willing to hear him out.

“As much as I’m letting you wed my daughter, I cannot possibly never see her again. Especially her mother, I don’t want her to curse me either. That’s why I want a quarter of a year with our daughter in our home. Once she gives birth and recovers, that is.”

Mydei was right in the idea that he wouldn’t like it. The idea of having you (and assumedly your daughter or son) gone for three whole months every year was maddening. Every minute away from you got him feral and worried you’re being seen by another man or at risk. As a result of hearing this ridiculous statement, he squeezed on your arm hard enough to hurt. When you winced in pain, he immediately let it go—he didn’t mean to cause you any harm, it was simply he was still learning how to be gentle for a sake of your pregnancy. He looked down at you, making sure you’re alright.

Instead, he saw your begging eyes. You were desperate to keep in touch with your family; however there was something else at play—for all the suspicious feelings you had towards Mydei lately, you felt like having a break for him as well. Maybe even your child will need it—who knows what kind of father your fiance will become.

Mydei hated the idea of having you out and baby of his reach and being out of control with that deal. It was a realization that you’d probably become unhappy and unwilling should you be stuck with him all year that made him hesitant to deny you. If seeing your family makes you happy… maybe you will also be desperate to return to him sooner than a quarter of every next year. Would his child love him enough to betray you and demand he or she miss their daddy and want to go back early?

He made that hard decision, “Very well then. But don’t even assume I won’t drag her back if you extend three months even by just a day.”

When Mydei was leading you away to return safely, you had to look back at your father for the last time before you’ll have to wait long months to see him again. Living outside of Okhema and Kremnos made a distance too long for your father to feel like you’re near him, so he mouthed “I love you.”

He’ll take a blame on himself. Neither did the pain on his face mattered, when his heart just broke.

☆

When you two have returned to the house Mydei has kept himself at, with few servants that remained loyal to him even after he abandoned his role as a future king in Kremnos, you’ve realized this will be your new home only now. Homesickness overwhelmed you already.

Entering his chambers, Mydei placed you on bed and helped you remove your shoes. You had no idea why, considering you were in a stage too early to have swollen feet yet. Was he becoming soft with you?

“How do you feel?” he asked from below you. “Any nausea yet?” You shook your head. “Good.” Mydei sat down next to you on bed. “The healer has told me that if a father was in a healthy state before a woman conceives, the pregnancy should be easier on her. I don’t even drink alcohol, so I hope you’ll get to rest easy for the remaining time of your heaviness…”

It was at least one thing for you to be soothened about.

Being emotionally exhausted after parting with your father, haven’t seen your mother in months as you participated in war, you felt shameless enough to put your head on his shoulder. “That’s reassuring,” you said with a little yawn. Mydei knew this probably wasn’t a good moment, but he found you oddly adorable when you appeared tired like this, softening his heart at some extent. Perhaps, he simply liked the idea of you being dependent on him… he had you in his grasp anyway. And it will remain that way until you take your last breath—not that he didn’t wish for you to become immortal too somehow.

Seeing you being all worn out, he helped you lay down before he put himself next to you. Having an affair with you for months, he had enough time to learn some forms of affection despite his rough personality… no matter what a sick man you’ve made him to be. He wanted to be angry at you for having him so obsessed with you yet he didn’t remember the last time he had felt so alive in his immortal life.

Mydei let you turn on your side for him to hold, even feel the calm rhythm of his heart. You’ve made him at peace when his mind was at war all the time.

You squirmed a little when you felt his hand land on your lower stomach. You were still unused to the idea of carrying a life in your womb, a child from him of all people. “I think you’re strong enough to go through this state smoothly as well,” he added eventually.

But it wasn’t your physique you’ve doubted. Pregnancies tended to be difficult for women, however what got you truly worried was forced assimilation in Okhema and the idea of your life having changed so drastically upon one of the nights with Mydei.

“… Yeah. Mydeimos?” you asked quietly. “Yes, love?” he asked with a rub of your belly, bit happy at the sound of his name. Maybe your form was bloated just barely, nonetheless it made him territorial already. He’ll protect you and this child, slaughter any enemy deciding to cross you, and maybe one day you’ll ask for another babe. For now, he needed to prepare a wedding ceremony. He won this fight nonetheless; even if he had to do something so disgusting to you. He felt guilty sometimes, until the thoughts of you filled his mind again and instead he wanted you even more.

“Thank you,” you murmured against his chest, your eyes closing already. “What are you thanking me for?” he kissed your cheek.

“I’m glad you didn’t separate me from my family,” you admitted meekly.

“I couldn’t go that far, so don’t thank me. I only want you to care about our family just as much.”

You didn’t manage to agree as you fell asleep, leaving him without your promise. Mydei sighed and pulled you closer to him, with his palm on your stomach still, for him to imagine how big and much more his you’ll be soon.

☆

As your belly grew, so did Mydei’s newfound tendency to be overbearing. He seemed to be more stressed out than you at times, desperate to make sure your wellbeing is secured. To him, it didn’t matter how suffocated you might have felt—he kept you close regardless. Especially now that you were wife and husband. Mydei needed both your safety and love, for all the times he didn’t feel safe or loved himself.

When it came to you, you were founding yourself to be more accepting of the situation. Not happy though. No, your mind was more about getting used to the idea, as you knew you had no choice and needed to get through it sometimes. You can’t take time back but you can make the future work.

Mydei have noticed you became more quiet after separation, but he blamed it on you missing home than you actually being unhappy at the prospect of becoming a mother. Perhaps he was a fool but he had all the confidence in you, one day, loving him so much you could die; the same way he loved you and this child.

You were four months pregnant at this point. Mydei was so bad he didn’t even want you to walk too much, finding some excuses about you provoking painful feet or risking tripping over. No, you were much better sitting on his lap while he sat on his throne.

“Open your mouth,” he said teasingly and fed you few pomegranate seeds. He wanted you to eat well for the baby, and a healer recommended fruits for additional vitamins. The idea of sharing his favorite food with you felt nice too—even if it’s a merely sized way of bonding.

When you parted your lips for him, he slipped few pomegranate seeds into your mouth you quite enjoyed, his finger accidentally brushed over your lips and spreading crimson juice here. The unintentional art looked beautiful on you nevertheless. You were carrying a meaning of pomegranate on your plumpness, both fertile and in marriage union. Should you ever die, he will simply hunt your soul back to him.

Observing your beauty, he felt a familiar urge to push his thumb into your mouth and see you suckle on it, like you have done so submissively during many nights. No matter, he’ll wait until your hormones strike you enough for you to feel desire all the time… he’ll just have to be more delicate with you in this state, and you surely will let him rock your body with his hands on your bump. He’ll knead your breasts too, chasing away all the soreness.

He put an empty pomegranate shell away, hopefully not as empty as you, and wrapped his arms around you, typically one hand on your belly. It could be any moment a baby kicks so he was always ready like this.

“Say… do you think it’ll be a girl or boy?” he asked with curiosity, pushing his excitement into the back of his mind so you don’t think of him as too eager.

You looked at him in thought, your mouth suddenly dry. “Well, I didn’t really think about that… I just want them to be healthy.”

He chuckled at your words. In his eyes, you were such a good mother already. “Their gender doesn’t matter to me either… I’ll help them become a strong warrior regardless. My parents…” he stopped for a moment. The bitterness of his father’s murder and his own murder reminded in him until many years later. He cleared his throat, despite it feeling choked. “My parents were a king and a queen, both warriors of the equal strength as none of them won during their first clashing of blades… I won’t discriminate no matter the result of your birth. I’m sure our child will be strong as you and I are.”

You still noticed how giddy he sounded, so odd for Mydei; you learned how to read him; no matter how much he tried to hide his vulnerabilities. You felt some form of affection for him too, however, you didn’t like how easily you soaked in his emotions sometimes. It was unsettling how intense he was when he thought you didn’t notice.

But the mention of warriors… it made you feel nostalgic. You missed the battlefield and the freedom and pride it brought. “Yeah, I would like to train them too…” you said hopefully. Something angry flashed in Mydei’s eyes for a moment, not sure if he should let you continue fighting whether you will recover after a birth or not. What if you fly away from him? At the same time, he didn’t want to make you miserable. “Well, you shouldn’t get rusty. I suppose some sparring with me should help you get back in healthy shape after birth,” he said, all resigned. You’ve made him too soft for his liking, but even more fierce with his enemies that could threaten you and the unborn.

But the short look of excitement in your eyes was worth it. He really didn’t intend to make you unhappy in any way… it was just his desire to both own you and keep you safe, something he had grown enough during your months of passionate nights before your pregnancy; it only burst open and swallowed you when his tragic plan had worked.

You both jumped when the baby suddenly kicked in your belly, for the first time. You felt it hardly from the inside and for him it was under his rough-skinned palm. He looked at you in awe, until he saw your eyes well up with tears, thinking it perhaps hurt. “Are you okay?” he asked slightly panicked.

“Huh? Yes… I just… feel touched. That child really exists,” you said with a smile. Sometimes about them being alive and proofing it was your comfort to your loneliness; unless you were becoming delusional and desperate for relief.

Seeing your rare moment of happiness and smile was a soothing balm to his soul. This boy or girl were really the key to making you his—not only did you agree to marry him, you also were starting to appreciate an aspect of becoming a mother. He didn’t care if it was your hormones, a stereotype of a mother’s instinct or your affection for him. He shall make sure this remains eternal.

When Mydei placed his lips on his and stroked your belly, you let him. He didn’t cry now but he felt like he will once he sees the blessing he produced in the world.

As he kissed you rather gently for him, you having taught him how to be more soft for your sake, he thought many things. How beautiful you’ve become even if your skin appeared dull, how much he liked taking care of you, how he finally had an idea of family back in his life, how much of his you were…

…that’s why you shall never know the truth about your past herb treatment, not needing to leave you heartbroken. Neither will the healer spill it out for you, as he was now six feet underground.

He just couldn’t had let you go, scared you’ll finally leave back to where you’ve came from, should the conflict end on its own. And you fell right into his trap.

[ecstxsyy]

BITE ME. | S. WINCHESTER ❦︎

Sam uses his size to his advantage.

based on this comment.

18+ mdni!

sam winchester x fem!reader

warnings: porn with no plot, p in v, light biting, unprotected sex.

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

SAM WINCHESTER has the biggest size kink ever, he loves how much he towers over your small frame. You were average height but Sam was just huge, and he used it to his advantage as much as he could.

When you have sex, he uses his weight to pin you to the mattress below you, plowing his cock into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, his dick was much like the rest of him, absolutely huge. Your legs shook around his waist as you clawed at the rose petal-ridden sheets.

The night started as a Valentine’s Day date, the two of you left Dean to do some research on a case while the two of you got dinner and rented a separate motel room. Sam wanted to give you a special night, no matter how crazy your life is.

“Fuck, Sam. You’re so deep,” you cried out, Sam took this as his queue to hoist your legs over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle to pound into you. You nearly screeched at the change of positions, his tip bullying your g-spot. Sam hung his head into the crook of your neck when he got an idea, he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, biting you lightly. This pulled a loud moan out of you, your cunt clenching around his cock.

“You like that?” Sam asked, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. If he wasn't giving you some of the best sex of your life you’d give him a snarky response, but your mind was blank, the only thing you could about was how good he was fucking you.

Sam felt almost drunk on the feeling he got from the look on your face, your eyebrows scrunched and relaxed with every thrust and your eyes looked glossy and full of bliss. He knew you were gonna cum soon but couldn't vocalize it, he could feel your walls tighten and relax around him, pushing him closer to his own orgasm.

When you came, your legs shook, and moans tumbled out of your mouth loudly, the two of you had given up on being quiet a long time ago. Sam rode you through your orgasm, one last clench of your pussy sending him over the edge.

Sam came inside of you with a loud grunt, painting your walls with his sticky seed. He fucked it inside of you for a bit before pulling out of you slowly and collapsing on top of you. The two of you sat in silence for a brief moment, panting and out of breath until Sam decided to run a shower for you.

Once the water was warm, he carried you to the bathroom and began cleaning your sticky skin. He made sure you were completely clean before dressing you in one of his shirts and tucking you into bed, crawling in on the other side to cuddle with you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

[vest0]

🌈 I DID IT! I FINISHED!

Aaah, I'm so happy, and here more info about them! :D

If you have any questions or would like to request art on them, I will be only glad!

about;

These designs are made for a more human look and their anatomy consists of the familiar human one, except for the helmets, and starscream's wings. they will have a bot version, but later~

answers to possible questions:

Can I use your arts for my own purposes, or publish it somewhere?

sure, why not? the main thing is credit me, and preferably leave a link to my Tumblr!

Is this plot based on canon and can I criticize the idea for not being canon?

the plot includes a small part of the canon, but most of it was invented by me and my management of Megastars. regarding criticism - uh, criticism is allowed, but not on the topic of canons AND the pairing, plsss!

can I draw fanart for you/create my own idea related to this idea?

YESS, PLEASE DO?? Any fan work is like a diamond to me!! I will be very pleased and interested to see everything in your performance! (Actually, NSFW allowed too, but pls keep it within the limits of adequacy,,)

🌟 Starscream;

height - 5,2 or 158 cm.

weight - 50 kg

gender - she / her OR he / his. In my arts it's more as a female.

sexuality - bisexual (♀️), homosexual (♂️)

features - In the female version, Starscream has a small chest, but her hips are wider than her shoulders. Her wings are mobile but suitable only for short flight in the human version.

Starscream is one of the best Seekers, and as a fighter, is extremely valuable to the Decepticons. In the past, Starscream was an Autobot, the only Seeker among them, and was responsible for air operations. She joined the ranks of the Autobots at the beginning of the war. Before chaos and hostility between the two factions began on Cybertron, Starscream excelled in fights without rules, and led a cruel lifestyle. Frequent fights, a lot of skirmishes with other bots, she was at the center of criminal society, and often resorted to physical violence, or even murder. Thanks to her small size, Starscream was agile and fast, and her honed skills gave her an advantage against the enemy. She has always been an extremely cruel person, and quickly acquired the nickname "angel of death". She knew about Megatron while he was a gladiator. His arena fights delighted the young fem, and once she was even able to meet the great gladiator. After the war began, Starscream realized all the horror, and desperately sought to find redemption from the Autobots, which soon happened. Starscream had a very difficult time, because containing her true essence seemed like torture, but over time, she learned to control herself, not giving in to emotions in emergency cases. It was quite difficult with the realization that her former idol created such chaos, and this became the motivation to go to the end and win the burning war. Among the Autobots, Starscream stood out for her detachment and arrogance. It was difficult for her to communicate with others as friends, because it was unusual for her character and nature. She felt that she did not completely belong to this place, but she was held by the good goal of ending the war and returning peace. She is a cold, rude and very cunning person, hiding under her beautiful, scarlet eyes her cruel and terrifying spark, capable of tearing anyone apart without mercy, if necessary. Her fearlessness even in front of those who are twice her size plays into her hands, giving her more audacity and ardor.

Starscream's toxic and freedom-loving nature is precisely the reason why Megatron wanted her in his ranks, close to himself. No one had ever dared to challenge the lord before, but Starscream was not at all intimidated by Megatron's formidable status. This was exactly what the big bot lacked, someone who challenges him, especially doing it so passionately.

⛓ Megatron;

height - 6,7 or 201 cm.

weight - 110 kg

gender - he/his OR she/her (in my arts it's more as a male).

sexuality - Pansexual

features - There is a scar along his lip and scars all over his body. He often wears a sword belt, which emphasizes his strong and large body. He wears only closed shoes, such as combat boots or just boots.

In the distant past, Megatron was known as a fearsome gladiator in the Kaon arena, crushing his enemies with extreme cruelty and power. He didn't end up in the arena because of a happy life, but his success and fame became the initial impetus for something more than just being a beast entertaining the public. Megatron spent a lot of time training, not sparing his own body and strength. Each new fight became more and more furious and frighteningly cruel, and under the applause of the audience, Megatron began to learn eloquent monologues, wanting to get deeper into the hearts of his fans. Soon the fights turned into a real mess, after which, with a proudly raised fist, Megatron gave a speech, inspiring the people to a coup. It seemed to him for a long time that the council did not care about its own people, because in Kaon there was too much inexplicable disorder, which seemed to be turned a blind eye to. All this did not please the mature revolutionary at all.

The rage towards the indifference of the council grew with each passing day, and, unfortunately, the gladiator's speeches boiling with revolution were noticed too late. Megatron, thanks to his eloquence and self-confidence, was able to inspire many sparks in a short time, calling on them to join "justice". But, everything got out of control when Megatron was overshadowed by blind hatred. His long-time and best friend, Orion, stood against him, who saw the path to a prosperous life in a completely different way. But Megatron did not stop. The once good intention to return justice turned into a thirst for power at any cost, for Megatron could not bear the weight of the leader, and succumbed to anger, turning into a tyrant. The first years, the inexperienced lord created chaos, senselessly destroying Cybertron city after city, but with each new year he gained experience, learning to behave more thoughtfully and wisely than to succumb to eclipsing emotions. When he fully realized his role, Cybertron was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. Megatron acted thoughtfully and tactically, which made the war against the Autobots even more intense and dangerous. There were many supplies needed by the Decepticons at the Autobot base, so sometimes there were secret operations to steal these resources, but one time, Megatron himself fell under the watchful eye of the air commander. He was neutralized with a couple of easy movements, when the silhouette of a familiar bot shone before his eyes. It was Starscream. And something in Megatron's spark clicked. An old acquaintance had achieved heights during the war, and her pressure kindled an incomprehensible warmth in the Decepticon. This was their first meeting in all this long time. And they are enemies. The gray bot was able to avoid a sad fate and escaped, but clearly decided for himself one thing - Starscream will be in his ranks, at any cost.

Megatron is stubborn and stands his ground, so Starscream has long tolerated the Lord's attempts to turn his head. Whether on the battlefield or when they were alone. Megatron even came to the Autobot base itself more than once, just to see his object of attention again, and to use enticing speeches. Starscream does not admit it, but she really likes the Decepticon Lord's pressure and his attractive impudence.

THAT'S IT, THANK U SM FOR READING MY SILLY HEADCANON IDEAS! <3

Hope u like it, and I'll wait for your questions, if you have something on your mind 🌟

[oh-no-its-bird]

Dedicating this to @electricburnz, who made me think about this again, and @ahamasmiyodhah + @tryingahandinholdingapen who found the post for me, thank u

Ok so, based on this post, but taking it a little to the left and making it funnier and much more chaotic

So, Madara and Izuna both want to send Tobirama hate mail. More than that, they want to go the extra mile here, really do something petty. So, they both begin to look into flower languages with an intent to insult Tobirama by showing genuine effort put into their little "go jump off the hokage tower" messages.

It's to note here that both Izuna and Madara have no idea that the other is doing this. They both think it's their own original idea, and aren't mentioning it to the other.

So then, you ask, what is the difference between the two of them?

Well, Madara stops at ordinary flower language.

He goes to his local flower shop, asks the girl at the desk to help explain the meanings of a few things, then laughs maniacally as he starts putting together a bouquet that is essentially hate mail in flower form. Full of flowers that signify loathing, bad luck and ill omens, all that good shit

Izuna, meanwhile, takes a moment to think.

The Senju are a clan that practically worships the mokuton, arent they? Their whole thing is nature, so perhaps they would have different meanings for their own flowers...? He asks around, and finds that yes, they do, though most Senju seem to find it 'a waste of their time' to tell him much more

Luckily, Izuna manages to get his little paws on an old Senju flower language study, and uses it to make his own hate mail flower bouquet. Nice one Izuna!

Here's the twist though: Yes, the Senju do use their own flower language. They see it as the "true" meaning of flowers, and completely ignore anyone who tells them otherwise. But, it's updated every time there's a new mokuton user. The new mokuton user going through each flower and telling their clansmen the "real" meaning of each one. So the study Izuna found was way out of date and completely non applicable

Meaning that neither of the bouquets the brothers made say what they mean them to say.

So !

Madara gives Tobirama his flowers. Tobirama looks at Madara. Standing smug and radiating 'I hate your guts' energy.

Tobirama looks at the flowers, which are filled exclusively with sexual innuendos and "I want to ravish you in the fields" flowers. Placed right in the center of the bouquet, higher than all the others, a single bloom that means "passionate forbidden love"

(eternal hatred, the store clerk had assured Madara)

Tobirama looks back at Madara. Still looking smug, staring at him expectantly.

Tobirama turns bright red and power walks away as fast as he can.

Madara takes the redness to mean anger and congratulates himself on a job well done, walking off smug and happy (but maybe a little disappointed there was no yelling. Still, he'd never seen the Senju run away before! Ha)

The next day, it's Izuna's turn.

Tobirama, feeling like someone has to be fucking with him at this point, looks at Izuna. Who is radiating what can only be described as 'I'm going to kill you in your sleep and enjoy it more than anyone should' energy.

Tobirama looks at the flowers, which are filled with meanings of 'innocent love in bloom' and 'soft, secret passion' and 'dreams of a better tomorrow.' Just a bunch of really cute, romantic, soft meanings

And Tobirama just. Once again, turns somehow an even brighter shade of red than the first time and runs away with his tail between his legs.

Izuna, just like his brother, is patting himself on the back for his hard work. Did you see the way he ran? Incredible. Izuna has to do this again to see if it gets the same reaction. Maybe next time he'll fill his office with the flowers...?

(Both times, it should be noted, Tobirama did in fact take the flowers with him)

So, yk, Tobirama has no idea what's going on but feels like there has to be some sort of trick being pulled on him. He can not decide what any of this shit makes him feel

(if only one of the brothers had approached him, maybe he would have tried to reply in kind to their perceived genuineness, but the fact that it was both...? No, no, he can not comprehend what the hell is going on there.)

I think it'd be funny if more Uchiha (or in general just people who disliked Tobirama: of which there were a lot) caught on to this and fell into the same pitfalls as Madara and Izuna. From Tobirama's perspective, suddenly he's so popular? He's never been so popular before? What is going on?

Ok so now. Pivoting. I bring to you: Uchiha Hikaku.

So Tobirama is kind of gravitating towards Hikaku, the only perceived still "normal" person around as every other Uchiha has begun to send him scandalous flowers.

Hikaku is so mellow and normal, it brings Tobirama comfort as he tries to put his head on straight about what the hell is happening otherwise. They got along anyways, they work well together, both are professional and straight to the point men and they get their work done quickly and then go home— just the way they like it.

And so one day, someone tells Hikaku smthn along the lines of "wow Tobirama is so nice to u, u should really count ur blessings you lucky bastard"

And Hikaku is like "Hmm. Perhaps I should show him my gratitude somehow...?" And goes out and ends up at the flower store.

Meanwhile, the flower girl finds that these Uchiha really like their hate flowers. Like, an alarming amount. Hikaku comes in and she's already reaching for the "I want you to die in a fire" dandelions

But no, Hikaku is there for something much more normal. Just a couple small flowers, something simple and professional, to mean smthn along the lines of 'appreciation' and 'hard work'

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

So Hikaku goes in and gives these flowers to Tobirama like I hope to continue our harmonious working relationship. And. Tobirama looks at the flowers.

Which, obviously, do not mean what Hikaku thinks they mean. Instead of 'appreciation' and 'hard work' they instead mean something a little more along the lines of 'quiet loathing' and 'you are a lazy bastard'

And that, my friends, is the story of how Hikaku became the first Uchiha to successfully send Tobirama hate flowers.

(And was also the first Uchiha to not have actually tried sending Tobirama hate flowers.)

Anyways then Izuna and Madara fill Tobirama's office with flowers that alternate meanings of 'lets get married, Im so in love with you, we are soulmates' and 'I want to fuck nasty in the barn out back' and Hashirama sees it and nearly fucking kills them both

The end

[zenkindoflove]

So for the last two weeks I've been really contemplating my writing goals for the year. Reevaluating what makes me happy and what is intrinsically motivating. Gonna ramble a bit under the read more. But the jist is I'll be taking a fanfiction hiatus.

After I finished Let the Light Linger - I sort of had a bit of a crisis and needed to have a come to Jesus moment.

I started writing fanfiction again in October of 2023 because I was really pulled into Elucien and missed writing. Needless to say, the last year and a half I went hard. Harder than I ever have before. I wrote almost 500k words of fanfic and it was all really fun and exhilarating.

About 6 months ago though, I think a shift happened.

My desire to write canon compliant Elucien has been waning. I've done a lot of it, and told their story multiple times. And what I've realized is that ultimately I'm a lot more motivated to write Eris and Alexius or explore little weird AUs for Elucien instead like I did with Carrion Flowers.

And what that made me realize is that I'm not really interested so much in writing fanfic anymore. But rather - I'm more interested in writing original fiction (or Amanda universe fic lol). I think I keep setting up these new ideas and new WIPs distracting me because I've been nervous about going in that direction.

The fact that I want to live in my own world more - with my own OCs or my own heavily altered versions of minor characters like Eris - is really evidence that what I'm doing is not really writing fanfic anymore. But instead trying to fit my own original ideas into the fanfic medium because it's where I'm comfortable.

I think the biggest evidence was toggling between Let the Light Linger and Shackled. Shackled is doing really well in terms of popularity. Which I'm very grateful for. But I kept finding myself wanting to rush through writing chapters so I can write Let the Light Linger instead - which comparatively speaking is not popular at all. It's on par for how my Erixius fics tend to do but the audience for Eris x Male OC is small. And part of me was becoming a little resentful because I wanted my Eris x OC stuff to be as loved because I know it's excellent work.

And then I realized - you dummy. Of course people want to read your Elucien fic more. That is what an ACOTAR fanbase wants. It's what we are all here for. To explore the possibilities of the canon characters we already like. Which is something I had always known and rationalized and made peace with. But suddenly my emotions weren't fitting what I already knew. And I think that was the final push I needed to know that I am ready to write original work now.

It's time to follow what really is driving me instead of what I assume is expected of me. So, for now, my fanfic Shackled will be on hiatus. I might update it now and again if I'm feeling particularly motivated, but I really want to focus more of my time working on an original book. And probably what I'll do is take a lot of the hard work creating OCs that I've done in my Erixius fics and adapt them to this new world. Alexius especially deserves to live in his own space now. And my Eris is really an amalgamation of other characters that I've loved before that are like him. So needless to say, who I create for Alexius is going to be very similar 😂. Alexius needs a grumpy guy to his sunshine.

I certainly won't be leaving the fandom because I need this ding dong Elucien book. And I'll still be reading fanfic and replying to anyone who does go and read my works and leaves comments. And you might get surprise chapter updates or oneshots from me if I'm feeling any of that motivation. But regular updates won't be happening anymore.

[ereawrites]

couldn't stop thinking about this post so I wrote it.. from elrond's pov bc why not!

wc: 1.1k | cw: none

fluff, mutual?pining, dumb puppy elrond

Elrond spots the necklace nestled amongst the wares of an artisan jeweller one early autumn day - a stall he barely even glances at in his haste - and for some inexplicable reason, he thinks of you.

Well. He knows the reason. It's because the gem is the exact colour that your eyes are when you turn your head away from him and the light catches the iris just right and you practically glow - and he tries not to think too hard about the fact that he can't recall that same hue in any of his other friends' eyes.

He's in a rush, but he stops anyway. The woman is kind, motherly-looking; she laughs when he has to juggle the armful of scrolls he carries to fish the coin purse from his pocket.

"Your love is a lucky one," she smiles as she hands him the box, a soft green velvet that reminds him of your favourite cloak. "To have such a generous admirer."

Elrond blinks, and swallows. "Ah - no, it's for a friend. A very dear one, but no more."

She pats his hand gently, eyes twinkling. He's running too late to dwell on it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It's four days before he's able to make the time to seek you out. The box sits on his desk in the meantime, and Elrond keeps finding himself opening it. Admiring the craftsmanship, he thinks. The colour really is quite beautiful.

Four days of torturous meetings and endless papers to read over. Gil-Galad seems to take pity on him then, tells him to leave in time for the evening meal, and perhaps run a brush through his hair. Elrond laughs at that, but does it anyway.

He has to run - why must he always be running? - to catch you in the gardens before the food is served. Once, he used to join you here every evening. Now he counts himself lucky to come once in a moon's turn.

As always, you're happy to see him, welcoming him with a warm caress of his cheek. He leans into it. As always.

Your palm lingers, thumb tracing the dark shadows that have formed under his eyes before falling away. "You look tired, mellon. Somehow I sense you may be overworking yourself again."

"Nonsense. I do only as much as is required of me.", he begins, desperate to wash away the concerned furrow of your brow. It works, if only because you instead raise it as if to scold him wordlessly. "Ai. I suppose it has been a busier week than usual."

You've always been able to see right through him, and he's never been able to lie to you anyway.

The autumn breeze catches your hair as you reply, twist of your mouth and crinkle of your eyes betraying your admonishing tone. "Just a week? I haven't seen you for two. I'd half-feared our king had shackled you to your desk and condemned you to an eternity of paperwork."

"I beg you, do not speak the idea around him. He may just follow through."

You laugh, and the trees dance in response, shaking off their golden leaves. Elrond gathers your hands in his, holding them close to his chest. "But, truly - I am sorry that I have neglected our friendship of late."

Your gaze softens and you make to comfort him, perhaps, or to say that you understand - you always understand, no one knows his mind better - but he silences you by drawing the velvet box from within his robes.

"A gift?", you ask as he presses it into your palms, not taking your eyes from his. He nods. "Well... I am very upset with you."

"And rightly so.", he says gravely. Your smile warms him against the chill of the evening breeze. "I had hoped this might redeem me."

Once he gives your wrist an encouraging squeeze, you open the box, and gasp like all the air has been knocked out of you. "Oh - it's beautiful."

"It made me think of you.", he responds instantly, before he's given any consideration to how that sounds. Fool. You don't seem to notice, though, too focused on tracing a finger over the gem and watching the way it sparkles in the dying sunset light.

"Thank you, Elrond. Mae carnen. In fact, I must wear it tonight so everyone can share in its' beauty.". You press the necklace into his waiting palm, and turn from him. "Will you fasten it for me, please?"

He fumbles a little with the clasp, a far cry from his usual steady hand. It must be the cold air. Or fatigue, he thinks. He lowers the chain over your head and his heart warms at the way your hand comes up to caress the stone against your chest. "I am glad you like it."

You hum contentedly. For that moment, there is only the rustle of the leaves, the gentle lapping of water in the fountain, the distant music and chatter - the clasp does up easily and Elrond lifts your hair carefully, meaning to settle the chain against your nape. He doesn't know why the tips of his fingers linger against your skin, or why he so gently moves away the stray tendril of hair that isn't interfering at all, or why his knuckles seem to brush against your back of their own accord as he lets your hair down. The movement lets him catch just the barest hint of the scent you wear, and the breath in his throat hitches almost imperceptibly.

What is he doing?

That quiet moment is gone as quickly as it came. You turn to face him. "I would like anything in this world if it came to me from you, mellon. But this really is beautiful. I am lucky to have you."

You're close enough that he can see the goosebumps rising across your collarbones. His head is spinning. He's exhausted, he must be, more so than he realised; he hates to worry you, though, so he smiles, and says softly, "Am I forgiven, mellon nin?".

Then, you come up onto your tiptoes, steading yourself with splayed palms against his chest, and - you kiss him on the cheek, something you've done a thousand times, so - why does he feel dizzy?

"Quite.", you grin, and slip your arm into his in a well-practiced motion. "Now, let us go and find you some food. You look a little faint. I'll be having words with our king if this continues, I don't care that-"

Elrond hardly hears the rest of your tirade as you lead him out of the gardens. The realisation has hit him like a punch to the gut.

Oh. Oh.

He's in trouble.

[slcmml]

tech support! charlie & reader — you turn my software into hardware.

you hate making phone calls.

absolutely despise it, actually. something about talking to a stranger, especially for customer support, makes your skin crawl. but your laptop is acting up, and after scouring the internet for a solution and coming up empty handed, you seemingly have no other choice. so, you dial the number, swallow your nerves, and wait.

“hello! this is charlie from tech co’s customer support! how can i help you today?”

you weren’t expecting the voice on the other end to sound so… cute?

it’s warm, gentle, and just a little scratchy, like he’s been talking all day but still has patience to spare. suddenly, making this phone call doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

“hi, um. yeah. my laptop isn’t working? i mean, obviously, that’s why i’m calling, but, uh, it won’t turn on, and i have no idea why.”

“gotcha! let’s see if we can get that fixed for you!”

his voice is so reassuring you almost forget you’re actually supposed to be fixing something.

he walks you through the steps, patient as ever while you fumble through them. when you press the wrong button, he gently corrects you. when you let out a frustrated groan, he laughs—not in a mean way, but like he finds you endearing. and god, it makes your stomach do a little flip.

“it’s okay, take your time! i’m here to help, promise.”

and help he does.

except at some point, your laptop starts working again, but you don’t want tell him.

“huh? still not working? that’s weird.”

you lie straight through your teeth just to keep talking to him. it’s shameless, really, but you don’t even care. he’s kind, patient, and his voice is the nicest thing you’ve heard all day. so you keep up the act just a little longer, drawing out the conversation until there’s truly nothing left to say.

“well, i’m glad i could help! and if you need anything else, you know where to call.”

oh, you do. and you’re already thinking about it.

“you’ve been super helpful, by the way,” you say, hesitating just a little before asking, “um, what’s your name? so i can leave a good review?”

“oh! yeah, of course. it’s charlie.”

charlie. yeah, that suits him.

“thanks, charlie. i really appreciate it.”

“anytime.”

—

you call back the next day.

you shouldn’t. there is no reason to. your laptop is fine, perfectly fine, but—

“hello! tech support, how can i help you?”

your heart sinks for a second before you realize it’s not charlie.

“oh, um,” you stammer, scrambling for an excuse. “i, uh, had an issue with my laptop the other day, and i wanted to follow up? i think the guy who helped me was named charlie?”

“oh, charlie! yeah, give me a sec, i’ll transfer you over.”

your stomach does a whole flip before you hear the click of the line transferring.

“hello?”

oh, thank god.

“hey, charlie,” you say, and you hope he doesn’t hear the stupid little smile in your voice. “it’s me. again.”

“oh, hey! did something go wrong with your laptop?”

“yeah, it’s, uh. still kinda acting up.”

lie.

“oh no,” he says, immediately concerned. “what’s it doing now?”

you make something up on the spot, some vague, convoluted problem that doesn’t actually exist, but he still goes along with it. walks you through another set of steps, laughs ok when you struggle, and just—keeps talking to you.

and this time, you swear he’s stalling, too.

—

it becomes a thing. you call every couple of days with some tech issue you made up, and he never questions it, just helps you like normal and talks to you like he’s actually happy to hear your voice. (spoilers: he is)

until the one time you say, “ugh, this laptop hates me,” and he hums thoughtfully before going, “you know, for a laptop that’s given you this many problems, you sure seem to like using it.”

does this mean he knows?

“what?” you say, playing dumb.

“i mean, you’ve had, what, like five different issues this week?” he teases. “i’m starting to think you just like calling tech support.”

heat rushes to your face. “okay, first of all,” you say, indignant. “it was three times.”

“mmhm.”

“second of all,” you start, then stop. because what is your second point? that he’s right? that you do like calling tech support? or, more specifically, that you like calling him?

“whatever,” you mumble instead, hoping he can’t hear how flustered you are.

but if the way he’s laughing is any indication, he totally can.

—

a week later, you take it one step further.

you don’t call this time. you show up.

you made a small google search to find the address of tech co, the store he works at, before stepping inside with a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing under your skin. you don’t even know what he looks like, but somehow, you just know when you see him.

he’s standing behind the counter, light brown hair, slightly messy, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. he’s cuter than you imagined—not just cute, but like, unfairly pretty. and when his eyes meet yours, shining with kindness, you know you made the right call.

“hi,” you say, leaning onto the counter.

“hey,” he says back, smiling. “fancy seeing you here.”

“yeah, well. my laptop broke again,” you say, suppressing a grin.

he raises an eyebrow. “oh, did it now?”

“yeah.. completely fried. tragic, really.”

“oh, so tragic,” he echoes, playing along.

you both know you’re full of shit. neither of you really care.

“so,” he leans in just a little, resting his arms on the counter, closer to you. “now that i’ve seen you in person, should i expect more tech issues? or was this a one time thing?”

you laugh, feeling a little bold. “you think i’d come to your job just to say it’s a ‘one time thing’?”

“i hope not,” he says with a slightly nervous smile.

your heart flips. he’s so cute.

“well, it’s not,” you say, mustering all your courage. “‘cause, you know, i’ve got a real issue that could use your help.”

his grin widens. “mmhm. and what would that be?”

“i need your number. y’know, in case of emergency. i mean, what if my laptop explodes?”

he blinks.

then he laughs—soft, surprised, pleased—before pulling a receipt from the register and scribbling something on it.

when he slides it over, his fingers brush yours, and you think, yeah. totally worth it.

© slcmml