#would he even remember their faces? how much does he remember and how much is he making up?

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[okwonyo]

ℰ SWEET LOVER, ❛ 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸──── they love you, their wallet loves you too.

( 𝑓𝗍 ) ㅤㅤ𓈒 日语 + fem!r 𝑖𝑛 8OO ⟡​ fluff established relationship 警告 kissing skinship crying ࿁ 𝘮𝑢𝘴𝑒𝘶𝑚

antescriptum. can be read as christmas gifts or not ♥︎

reblogs&feedbacks ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა click

HEESEUNG ｡｡ spends several weeks running through every beauty stores he knows to find the perfect gift to give you. the man would spend hours on end to find a fragrance that would be ‘perfect for the most perfect girl in world’—as he says to every employee that tries to help him. his world would change to wonderful colors when he finally finds the one. a fragrance that matches your beauty and aura, luxurious and, oh, so beautiful. he gives you the perfume like it’s nothing on chistmas day, even if his hands are sweaty from anticipation.

JONGSEONG ｡｡ gives your gift to you—if you can even call it like that— in the morning. while the sunlight is peaking through the blinds and the winter’s cold can’t get under the covers. “baby,” he calls you softly as you are hidden in his arms. “remind me what is you dream travel again,” he asks gently. while he smiles, you go on a rent about northern italy in the summer, in a big summer house, close to the sea. he hums all along amd when you finish he nuzzles his nose in your hair, “great, because we are doing that this summer, baby.” it takes a while for you to process, but when you do, you get up so fast that you almost feel nauseous… because, what?

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAEYUN ｡｡ he does get your presents. not only one or two. so much more, as if he bought a gift for you every month of the year to make sure he had something to give to the ones he loves. he gifts your favorite type of clothes, in you favorite colors, from your favorite designer brand. to them, he add expensive bags that you mentioned vaguely over the year. he remembers when and where you said you liked this specific clothing from this one brand— he keeps it’s name in his notes like a secret that is waiting to be shared. and he give these gifts to you with a smile that translates his adoration for you.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ he makes you enter the living room with his hands covering your eyes. “here you go,” he whispers in your ear as he reveals a dozen little blue boxes with bows on them sitting all over the room. there is jewelry in each one of them, each one more beautiful and pricey than the other. then, when your eyes are already watery, in his hands, he offers you a beautiful red box. in it, a darry ring. the one that can be bought only once in a lifetime— a silent promise that you are together for the rest of your lives. he puts the ring on your finger as your tears fall, then he wipe them with his thumb.

SUNOO ｡｡ he knows how much you love to take care of yourself, how good pampering yourself makes you feel, how bad you adore looking beautiful. it is logical that he buys you the best skincare and makeup he can find. he looks at it for months, finding the perfect products for your skin, the one that nourish and make it glow at the same time. he buys you loads of products, because he wants you to have a tons of choices. he takes the bear ones, no matter the price. “your beauty is unmatched,” he tells you. “cannot let any bad products ruin your beautiful face.”

JUGWON ｡｡ listen, at first, he was really thinking of buying you only two or three jellycats. seriously. he didn’t think that he would end up with so much. his heart just knew you too well, it murmured what you would want to your boyfriend. it guided him to the jellycats that you would love— which are every single one of them. and yes, of course, he ended up with the entire collection. you enter your room with jellycats plastered everywhere, covering every single space. you moth fall agape when you see your boyfriend face amongst all of them. “i couldn’t choose, so i took them all,” he defends himself with a grin.

RIKI ｡｡ he loves to play video games witt you. it might be his favorite moment when he comes over, which is everyday because he never really leaves. he adores when you punch him because he is allegedly cheating, when you hug him every time you win and when you have to kiss his cheek because he it is turn to hold victory. his love for those times sits in your heart as well, he knows it, which is why he buys you a nintendo switch. with almost every game you love on it, pretty stickers to put on it and everything that comes with it. the expression on your face is enough to make his entire year.

ᩰ ᩙ𓈒◞ ˕ ◟𓈒ᦡ ’s .. have a wonderful day, luvdolls 🎀 thanks to @soov for the help >3<

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open。

[deonsx]

HIII I love your writing! :3 I was wondering how Nagi and Rin would be like when their gf is having cramps? Ty! >0<

Hiii!!! ayayayya a new post and it's me again! + sae with you!

Bllk boys if their girlfriends get cramps

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi notices right away that something’s off. His girlfriend is curled up on the couch, her hand resting on her stomach, her face slightly scrunched in discomfort. Without saying much, he quietly head to the kitchen, filling a hot water bottle and grabbing her favorite snacks—something light and comforting

“Here” Nagi murmurs softly, placing the warm bottle on her stomach and sitting down beside her. They pass her the remote for the TV, already tuned to her favorite show “I’ll stay here with you”

If she’s up for it, Nagi might even offer a gentle back rub, knowing touch can help. They don’t overthink it, staying calm and supportive, always checking in “Do you need anything else? Tea? Painkillers?”

Her laid-back demeanor makes the situation feel less overwhelming, and their quiet presence reminds her she’s not alone. Even if Nagi isn’t the type to say much their actions speak volumes, showing how much they care

Rin Itoshi

Rin notices something’s off almost immediately. His girlfriend is lying on the couch, her hand on her stomach, her face showing discomfort. He pauses for a moment, analyzing the situation before asking “Is it cramps?” His tone is calm almost indifferent but there’s a subtle hint of concern

Even if she tries to brush it off with a weak “I’m fine” Rin isn’t convinced. He gets up without another word, leaving the room. Just as she starts to wonder what he’s doing, he returns with a hot water bottle, a glass of water, and a pack of painkillers

“Take these. It’ll help” he says curtly, placing everything on the table and carefully setting the hot water bottle on her stomach. His movements are deliberate, almost clinical, but there’s a tenderness in the way he adjusts the bottle to make sure it’s comfortable for her

When she tries to thank him or tease him with “You’re surprisingly sweet” Rin’s ears turn slightly red. He looks away, muttering “Just rest”

He sits down next to her, silent but attentive. If she shifts or winces, he notices immediately, asking “Do you need anything else?” in his usual no-nonsense tone. If she falls asleep, he stays by her side, occasionally checking her blanket or placing a hand lightly on her forehead to make sure she’s okay

Rin doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes. His quiet, protective presence makes her feel cared for in a way words never could

Sae Itoshi

Sae notices immediately when his girlfriend isn’t herself. She’s curled up on the couch, her expression tight with discomfort. At first, he stands there silently, his sharp eyes taking everything in

“You should’ve told me” he says, his voice calm but firm, as if this is something he should’ve been informed about sooner. Without waiting for a response, he disappears into the kitchen

Moments later, he returns with a hot water bottle and her favorite tea. He hands them over with an air of nonchalance, but the fact that he remembered what she likes in moments like this says everything

“Drink this” he says, placing the tea in her hands. “It’ll help” He doesn’t ask if she needs anything—he simply knows. If she tries to thank him, he waves it off with a casual “It’s not a big deal” though his actions suggest otherwise

Sae doesn’t hover, but he stays close, scrolling on his phone while sitting nearby. When she shifts uncomfortably, he looks up immediately “Does it still hurt?” he asks, his tone a little softer now

If she tries to tease him, saying something like “You’re surprisingly thoughtful” Sae smirks slightly, leaning back in his seat “Don’t get used to it” he replies, though the corner of his lips twitches in a way that betrays his affection

Even if he seems cool and detached, Sae is attentive. He stays by her side until she’s feeling better, his quiet care making her feel loved in his unique, understated way

Enjoy!

[0omillo0]

Felix angst/comfort (you can use this for the clingy series) where Felix feels the constant need to spend time with Y/N ( also rip this hits home for me) and Y/N is, for the first time in their life, not clingy. Like Felix perceives their actions as clingy but in their mind they feels free and as least clingy as they’ve ever been. And then Felix does the whole calls them clingy. And they have to take a moment because they, for once, felt so confident in themselves that they weren’t being clingy, and now they are second guessing themselves. (This is weirdly personal, I’ve been here before, please give mega angst but even more comfort)

Calling you clingy

Felix x Reader ; angst -> comfort

a/n: I hope this is what you wanted! merry christmas loves

Felix had always been a gentle, steady presence in your life—a warmth you could lean into when the world felt cold. His kindness had a way of pulling you out of your head, grounding you when your insecurities threatened to take over. You loved him for it.

But lately, his warmth felt different. He’d been clinging to you in ways you didn’t recognize, filling the spaces between your conversations with a soft desperation. He was more insistent on spending time together—seeking you out even when you felt perfectly fine sitting in your solitude.

At first, it was easy to brush off. Felix was affectionate by nature, and you’d always loved that about him. But when his gentle invitations turned into subtle comments—��Oh, you’re busy again?”—and his eyes lingered on you just a beat too long, you felt a weight you couldn’t explain.

It hurt, because for the first time in your life, you weren’t chasing validation. You weren’t battling the constant fear of being too much. Instead, you’d been reclaiming a sense of independence—spending time with yourself and learning to love the quiet.

You had felt proud. Free. For once, you didn’t feel the urge to text Felix every hour or overthink every interaction. And it had been working. The days felt lighter, and you believed you were finding a balance between nurturing your relationship with him and nurturing yourself.

And yet, tonight unraveled everything.

“Hey,” Felix called softly, pulling your attention away from the pile of papers on your desk.

The sound of his voice was cautious, hesitant, and you immediately turned to face him. “Yeah?” you asked, a small smile on your face. “What’s up?”

Felix shifted in place, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. He looked like a boy on the verge of confessing something he thought would ruin everything. “Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course.” You set down your pen, turning your full attention to him.

His gaze dropped, and you noticed the way his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Do you think… maybe you’ve been a little clingy lately?”

For a second, the words didn’t register.

Clingy?

Your heart sank, the air leaving your lungs in an instant. The weight of his question crashed into you, heavy and suffocating, as if the room had suddenly shrunk around you. “Clingy?” you echoed, your voice small and disbelieving.

He nodded, wincing slightly as if bracing for backlash. “I mean… you’re always around. You always want to hang out, and I love being with you—I do. But sometimes I feel like…” He trailed off, clearly unsure how to soften the blow.

“Like I’m suffocating you,” you finished for him, bitterness creeping into your tone.

“No!” Felix said quickly, his eyes wide and panicked. “No, it’s not that. I just… I need a little space sometimes. And I don’t want you to take that the wrong way.”

But how else could you take it? You stared at him, your stomach twisting violently. His words felt like a knife turning in an old wound you’d spent years trying to heal.

Clingy.

That label had haunted you for as long as you could remember. It was the word that stuck to you like a shadow, the fear that kept you second-guessing every relationship, every friendship. But you had worked so hard to overcome it. You’d been careful—so careful—to give Felix the space he deserved while finally giving yourself the freedom to breathe.

And now, the one person who made you feel safe had torn that progress apart.

“Felix…” you started, your voice trembling. You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to cry. “I’ve been trying so hard not to be clingy. Like… so hard.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What?”

“I’ve been holding back,” you said, the words tumbling out in a bitter rush. “I’ve been giving you space. I haven’t been texting you constantly, or asking to hang out every second, or freaking out if I don’t hear from you for a while. I thought I was finally getting it right.” Your voice cracked, and you looked away, trying to rein in the tears that threatened to spill.

Felix’s expression shifted, the weight of your words hitting him like a freight train. “Y/N…”

“But I guess even when I think I’m doing better, it’s still not enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” Felix said, stepping forward. His face crumpled with regret as he reached for you. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t mean it like that. I swear—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, stepping back out of his reach. Your hands clenched at your sides as you tried to steady your breath. “I get it. You need space. I’ll give you your space.”

“No, Y/N, don’t do that,” Felix said, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t—”

“I just need a minute, okay?” you said quickly, the words coming out sharper than you intended.

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Felix standing there with his heart in his throat.

The door clicked shut behind you, and the silence of your room felt deafening. You sank onto your bed, your mind spiraling with questions you couldn’t answer.

Had you been too much? Had you failed to notice something you should have?

You replayed every interaction in your head, dissecting your choices and second-guessing the progress you’d been so proud of.

Meanwhile, Felix sat outside your door, his knees pulled to his chest. His head was heavy in his hands, guilt eating away at him with every passing second. He didn’t know what had possessed him to say those words—words that clearly cut you so deeply.

Finally, he knocked softly, his voice trembling. “Y/N?”

There was no response.

“Please,” he tried again, his throat tight. “I didn’t mean what I said. I wasn’t thinking. Please, let me in.”

After a long moment, the door opened, revealing your tear-streaked face. Felix’s heart broke all over again. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his arms, holding you as tightly as he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize how hard you’d been trying… and I just—” He exhaled shakily. “I was scared.”

You stiffened slightly in his arms. “Scared?”

He nodded, pulling back to meet your eyes. “I thought maybe you didn’t need me as much anymore. And I know that’s selfish, but it made me panic. I thought maybe you were pulling away because you didn’t want to be around me.”

His words sank in slowly, and your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “Felix… I wasn’t pulling away. I was trying to find a balance. For me. For us.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “And I ruined it. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re not clingy. You’re amazing, and I’m so, so lucky to have you.”

His sincerity broke through your walls, and you leaned into his embrace, letting his warmth comfort you. “I just don’t want to lose you,” you murmured.

“You won’t,” Felix promised, holding you tighter. “I’ll do better. I’ll listen better. And I’ll never call you clingy again. I swear.”

You stayed in his arms for what felt like forever, the steady beat of his heart grounding you as the ache in your chest slowly began to ease. Felix didn’t let go, his arms wrapped around you with a desperation that spoke louder than any words he could say.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his breath warm against your hair. “I didn’t mean any of it. I just… I messed up. I didn’t realize how much you’d been trying, and instead of supporting you, I let my own fears get in the way.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your throat loosening with every word. “You really thought I didn’t need you anymore?”

He nodded, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze was filled with regret, but there was something else there too—a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I got scared. You seemed so confident, so… happy on your own. And I thought maybe I was the only one who still needed us as much as I do.”

You shook your head, a soft, disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. “Felix, I need us. I always have. I just…” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I needed to know I could stand on my own too. Not because I don’t love you, but because I wanted to be better for you. For both of us.”

His expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “You are better, Y/N. You’re amazing. And I should have told you that instead of making you feel like… like this.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Felix was quick to catch it, his touch impossibly gentle. “I don’t think you realize how much I look up to you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been so strong, and I’m… I’m so proud of you. I hate that I made you second-guess yourself.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and you leaned into his hand, letting yourself feel the warmth and sincerity in his touch. “You mean that?” you asked softly.

“Every word,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You’ve been so brave, Y/N. I see it. And I’ll spend every day reminding you how incredible you are if that’s what it takes to make up for tonight.”

For the first time that night, you felt the heaviness in your chest begin to lift. The sting of his earlier words lingered, but his apology—his love—was genuine.

You gave him a small, tentative smile. “You don’t have to make up for anything, Felix. Just… promise me we’ll talk next time, okay? No more letting things fester.”

He nodded quickly, his lips twitching into a faint, relieved smile. “I promise. I’ll do better. No more keeping things to myself. And no more calling you clingy. Ever.”

You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Good. Because that word is banned forever.”

“Forever,” Felix agreed, a playful light returning to his eyes. He shifted, pulling you closer until your foreheads touched. “You’re not clingy, Y/N. You’re perfect. Just the way you are.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment. For the first time in hours, you felt truly at ease.

Later that night, you found yourselves curled up on the couch, the tension of the evening a distant memory. Felix’s arms were wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm as the quiet hum of a movie played in the background.

“Y/N?” he murmured after a while, his voice soft and contemplative.

“Yeah?” you replied, tilting your head to look at him.

“I’m really lucky to have you,” he said, his cheeks turning pink as the words left his mouth.

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Felix.”

He laughed softly, his lips brushing against your temple. “I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently, resting your hand over his. “We’ll figure it all out. Together.”

Felix’s arms tightened around you, his lips curving into a soft smile against your skin. “Together,” he echoed, and in that moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t questioning yourself. You weren’t doubting your place in his life or worrying about being too much. Felix’s love wrapped around you like a promise—a reassurance that you didn’t have to change to be enough.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon

[tsuutarr]

Tavern Owner Orc x New Hire Reader

I got to participate in the lovely Ozzgin's Secret Santa Event!! This one is for @tranquilo-antique-apothecary!!

Content is about 1K words of him being down bad for you <3

Sekkrad has always liked the bustling atmosphere of taverns, rich with rambunctious laughter and delicious food. After every win or loss, Sekkrad and his comrades would settle down at their favorite tavern, almost as if it were their second home. Maybe that was why he decided to open a quaint tavern after retiring from his warrior duties.

Despite his retirement, Sekkrad has always kept himself in shape. Working out has been engraved into his body, but beyond that, it’s also because his patrons can get quite rowdy at times. Plus, it’s helpful to be athletic when you’re working as much as he is. That said…

He really could use some help.

So, he puts up a flyer seeking an employee. As expected, there are some pretty good candidates. What’s unexpected, however, is you. You’re just so cute that Sekkrad literally stopped thinking when he first saw you walk through the tavern’s doors. He’s not even sure how he got through interviewing you, but somehow he did. And, just his luck, you’re a great candidate – exactly what he’s looking for! A good personality, a solid resume, and a cute face… so of course he hires you.

But on second thought – maybe it wasn’t his best idea. You look too adorable in the tavern’s uniform (that uniform does not usually look that good). And he practically blanks out every time you’re around him. You just look so soft and huggable. Plus that smile? It’s a killer. Thankfully, he somehow manages to guide you through your tasks and answer questions with a blank face (that he is desperately trying to control).

As he’s mulling about how he’s supposed to act around you, he notices you struggling to reach up to get a bottle of bourbon on one of the shelves. Without a second thought, he reaches over you, pressing his muscular body against your softer one.

“Here,” he grunts, voice low, as sirens whir in his head over how good your body feels against his. It’s like you fit perfectly against him.

“Thank you!” you respond, smile bright. Oh, Gods. You’re going to kill him.

He nods. “If y’need anything else, let me know.”

With that said, he moves to the storage in the back. He almost slams his head into the bag of flour, but reigns himself in after remembering how expensive flour is nowadays. Instead, he picks up some more syrup for his cocktails, willing himself to behave.

Despite the turmoil your presence brings to him, he manages to get through the day with relative ease. Hiring you really was the right choice – you’re an excellent worker. Smart, quick on the uptake, easy on the eyes – you’re just the perfect hire.

As he closes shop, wiping a wine glass clean, he watches as you wipe down the last table, a feeling of fondness spreading through his chest at how much of a hard worker you are. As you finish up, he prepares a sweet cocktail for you, before motioning you over.

“Good job,” he says, passing the cocktail to you.

“Thank you!”

He nods, motioning for you to sit. “Wait there.”

“Yessir,” you respond, saluting before you sit down. You watch as he disappears into the kitchen in the back, the sweet taste of your cocktail spreading over your tongue pleasantly.

It only takes him a few moments to come back with a plate of warm food. He places it in front of you.

“Eat up,” he murmurs, crossing his arms. “You were a great help today.”

Your cheeks heat up, making Sekkrad want to scream – you’re just so stinking adorable.

“I’m glad!” you beam, making his lips twitch up into a smile involuntarily. 

The way you eat his food also makes him feel warm and happy – it’s always a treat when someone enjoys his food.

“It was delicious!” you tell him once you’re done eating.

“Let me know what y’like to eat,” he says, looking pleased as you polish off his food. “I’ll make it for you next time.”

Eagerly, you tell him your favorite food, which he files away for later. He takes your empty dishes, which you try to protest, saying that you’ll clean up after yourself. He’s having none of it, though, and cleans up promptly as you finish off your cocktail.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offers while wiping his hands off on his apron. “It’s late.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Sekkrad doesn’t want to seem pushy, not when he really doesn’t want you to hate him, but he’s more concerned for your safety than anything. “You wouldn’t be imposing,” he replies, trying to make his voice softer. “I just want t’make sure my new hire’s safe.”

“Well…” you look up at him and Sekkrad has to look behind you so that he won’t combust. “...I’d appreciate it, thank you! I’ll go get my things.”

“Yeah,” he responds, watching as you go to the back to get your things. When you reappear, he straightens his back, motioning to the door. “Ready?”

“Yessir!” you say, starting your journey back to your home.

Your walk back with him is quiet and peaceful as everyone else is asleep. That, and Sekkrad has never been much of a talker, but he’s especially nervous around you. He’s not entirely sure how he’s supposed to talk to you, so he opts not to. Besides, you seem content to walk beside him quietly (and it’s just… nice to see how comfortable you look beside him). Despite his nervousness, he’s actually pretty content himself.

In fact, when you two arrive at your home, Sekkrad is almost disappointed. Still, he got you home safe and nothing was really amiss, so he can’t complain.

“Rest up,” he says, nodding at you. “I’ll see you at night.”

“I’ll be there dark and early,” you grin.

He can’t help but crack a smile at that. “Good.”

With a small laugh and a final wave, you enter your home. Sekkrad lingers until he’s fully sure you’re safe inside, before turning his heels to walk back to the tavern with light steps.

He really, really can’t wait to see you again.

[ppombear]

a/n: Merry Christmas everyone! Here's a Christmas surprise for yall 🤭

Nanami Kento does not know what to think about this.

What your loving husband expected to find when he was back home from another day of work was not a mirror - that’s for sure.

He remembered you mentioning a package coming, a few days ago, but he assumed it was just another haul especially with the year end sales. Never did he imagine a whole mirror which would easily match your eye level.

“Really, love? A mirror?” Kento looks at you for a solid few seconds, wondering what you were up to. But knowing you, it's probably better not knowing…

“Yeah! Isn’t it pretty?” You happily asked him as you continued to marvel at the sight of the mirror, after all, you were genuinely proud of yourself for finding a mirror that fit the aesthetic of the bedroom and having it arrive just days before Christmas - as you planned. “... yes it is, my love.” your husband replied, still slightly suspicious of the purpose of this mirror, but just watching your enthusiasm was enough for him to not think about it too much.

------

So here you were, on the night of 25th December, all spread out and arms holding onto dear life as they cling onto him who was all pressed up on your back. Meanwhile his hands were all over your waist as a support as he thrust deep inside you. And ribbons all discarded to the ground somewhere.

“D-don’t w…we look… ah!… g-good in the m-mirror, l-l…love?” Upon hearing your question, your beloved looks up and man were you a sight to behold. All opened up and exposed to his eyes only.

You were already so sexy to him but something about seeing your reflection and those delicate curves - was definitely something else. Not to mention how well your cunt was taking him. He could see every contraction your pussy makes and that just heightens him even more. He couldn’t help himself, and soon found his long fingers caressing your little clit.

With the mirror, your husband could clearly see the bouncing of your tits and how hard your pink nipples were, begging to be played with. Furthermore, with the additional view, he can’t help but notice how soft your thighs look from his angle.

He just wants to sink his teeth into them and decorate them with his hickeys. Maybe he should do that next? He can just envision the softness of them. Will you push him away from overstimulation? Knowing you, it is a possibility. But does Kento care? No.

And the bugle that would form on your abdomen whenever he thrust deep inside you, was not lost on him. In fact, with the help of the mirror, it was even more obvious. Kento knows he is bigger than average but damn does it look so good in you, Watching your walls squeezing him and cooing him closer to the edge every time - it always never fails to make he thrust even deeper and stronger as you were willingly defenceless against his advancement.

Oh but the best thing for him, was how fucked your face looked like with every hit to your cervix and every flip of your clit. He always knew how erotic it would look but seeing it in the reflection is turning him all too much. That lust filled face was going to be the end of him.

Judging from how much fluids were leaking from your cunt, your beloved knew you were enjoying this as much as he was. “... ngh… e-enjoying this love?” he leaned closer and whispered to your sensitive ears. You barely registered that but when you did, you nodded eagerly - not being able to form words at the moment with how fucked you were.

“G-good..” And just as how your cunt was responding to his thrust, he knew you were close. “...A-about to c…cum, love? C-Cmon, let’s do it… t…together…” He didn’t need an answer from you because he already knew what his wife wanted.

And after a few more thrust, the both of you were coming undone.

While you were coming down from your high, Kento couldn't help but notice - through the reflection, your shared fluids flowing out and onto the soiled mattress below (a solid reminder of the intimate act you two just did). Yet, that image just fueled his needs again and he was regaining his hardness while still being buried deep in you.

"Another round, my love?"

"Of course, dear. M-merry Christmas"

But maybe he does like it...

Do not copy, repost, reupload, modify, translate without my permission

[blue-drink]

Baby in the Watchtower (He is Baby pt. 2)

“Marvel!” He turned around to see an exited Flash right in his face.

He stepped back a little, “Woah, what is it?” He asked.

“Bats gave us permission to hold a little party—,” he fake-coughed, “reunion, on the Watchtower, in 3 hours.” The speedster jumped while whispering, “We are planing to connect a Switch to the presentation screen.”

“Oh, well. Have fun.” He wasn’t really sure why he was telling him that, tho.

“Aren’t you coming?” Oh, that’s why.

The Captain wondered for a moment, but his thoughts were interrupted, “Sorry, Billy. But we already made plans, remember?” That’s true; even with the signed documents, they still had to ‘move some strings’ so he was officially adopted in Fawcett’s records and completely recognized as a child of Zeus on Olympus.

His smile faltered a little, he hoped Flash didn’t see it. “Ah, sorry. I have places to go, family matters, y’know?”

For a second Flash looked disappointed, before widening his eyes and asking “Wait, you have a family? Wait, wait, that came out wrong.”

He breathed for a second before trying again, “Well, everyone in the League thought you did not have a secret identity. Because you do not hide your face, and all.”

Solomon, secretly as much of a trickster as the rest, guided him on how to respond.

“Ah, well, you weren’t wrong.”

“Wait-what?”

“Technically it’s not official yet, that’s what I’ve to take care today; and I’ve only been with them for...” “A month,” Mercury whispered in his mind; it was a lie, but it was to throw them off track. “For a month.” He lied.

“How does that even happen???” The hero asked, confused.

“Supes is eavesdropping, answer truthfully to avoid suspicion.” Hercules informed.

“I... Didn’t have a family. I was living on the streets. I’m better now, tho!” He quickly reassured before anyone could start scolding him for keeping that to himself. “I’m fine. I’m going to fix some papers to be officially part of the family.”

“You were on the streets????? And you didn’t tell us???”

He did not know how to keep talking about this, so he let Atlas take control for a bit, “I did not know any better.” It wasn’t a lie, all his foster homes were worse. That would not be how they would be interpreting.

“I found a place, they even know I’m a hero!”

“That’s... So cool buddy.” The speedster said, trying to sound positive, but grimacing all the same. “I’m so happy for you.”

“It’s true, he is happy for you getting a family, but he is sad for you having to live in the streets in the past.” Solomon decoded for him.

“Thank you!” He exclaimed happily, with seemed to make the other more uncomfortable; but his patrons family told him not to mind him, that it was ok.

“Well, see you around!” He said, turning to the Zeta tubes.

“Bye bye.” Flash said, failing to meet his excitement.

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

“New Marvel lore just dropped!” The speedster exclaimed, running into the room.

“Dude, the party does not start in 2 hours— I mean, the reunion—”

“I know you wanted it to throw a game party,” Batman interrupted. “What were you saying about Captain Marvel?”

“Okay, okay,” Flash jumped into his seat, “so, you remember that bet about if he does or not have a S.I. (Secret Identity)?”

“You got an answer???” Green Lantern questioned.

“I think so? Now the question is if that bet counts until last month or currently.”

“Wha-” Aquaman asked, confused.

“I invited him to the party, and he kinda looked sad for a second, and then he told me he had ‘family matters’ to attend to.”

“So he does have a S.I.! How does he keep it shut?”

“He also, kinda, implied that that was new. He said that...” He paused. “It turns out he was homeless.”

“... What?” That came from Bats, surprisingly high-pitched as well.

“He was living in the streets until a month ago. He said that technically he wasn’t a part of the family officially yet, that he was going to fix that today.”

“Sometimes I forget heroism isn’t a paid job.” Wonder Woman said, “Oh, brother.”

“Is this information confirmed in any way?” Batman asked; if the facts could be a misunderstanding, he would need to know so before putting them in the Captain’s archive.

“I was eavesdropping,” Superman admitted, “his heart rate and breathing were steady, unlike when he does pranks. And he wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

Martian Manhunter raised his hand, “sometimes I received feeling of worry about food and warm places from him, even when avoiding looking into his mind, until recently. Not exactly one month, but that could be because he is used to worrying about it.”

“Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why he doesn’t wear a mask;” Arthur said. “He didn’t have anything nor anyone, so he didn’t worry about losing anything by having his identity revealed.”

“That doesn’t explain why he didn’t tell us.” GL counter-argumented.

“His villains know. In the recordings, they seem to reference a secret identity they know; and if they knew about him being homeless, it would explain them targeting almost empty buildings. That’s probably where he was staying.” Gotham’s knight answered, “And maybe it wasn’t about us finding out about someone, but us finding out about his situation.”

“He is the type to refuse help if he thinks it comes from pity.” Diana added.

“... What now?” The situation was too unexpected, and Flash needed some hint on how to proceed.

“Now, nothing changes. He hates pity; and if he needs help, his new family will provide it for him. Treat him the same you have always treated him.” Bats answered. “If anything, make sure not to say anything that may be hurtful towards his situation.”

************************************************************************

“Oops,” Marvel said. “Double oops,” Billy responded.

“It seems the spell from that user has interfered with the transformation.” Solomon explained through Marvel.

“Well, I can see that. What do we do now?”

“Wait a sec, I’m asking Hecate.” Mercury answered this time. “Okay, that spell is still in you— our? Marvel’s system; if we try to de-transform again it could fragment us further, which is no good, and we can’t re-integrate until it’s out.”

“How long?” “At least two days.”

“Wha— I have a JL meeting! Today!”

“I’m sure we can manage,” Achilles proclaimed confidently.

“Ah-ha, sure. Because any of you know how to act like Captain Marvel.” Billy said, sarcastically.

“I have an idea.” Zeus said.

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

“Hey, I kinda have a problem.” Receiving a text from Captain Marvel was not a common occurrence, so Batman was rightfully intrigued.

“Explain”

“I know I have to go to the meeting, I know it's important. But I kinda have to take care of one of my family members. He’s a kid and everyone is busy today, and he really loves superheroes, so if I could?”

“Doesn’t he have school?” The bat questioned. “He is homeschooled” The captain explained. “He is a really, really good kid, I promise”

He was going to regret it. “Very well, but he is your responsibility”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Batman, sir!”

He closed the chat, and opened another with Clark and Diana. “Captain Marvel will bring a child he is babysitting to the meeting, pass the word.”

Let’s hope this wouldn’t be a complete chaos.

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

“Captain Marvel, now arriving.” “Unknown, Captain Marvel’s guess, now arriving.” The Zeta tube prompted.

“Yo, Cap,” Barry appeared in front of them, “who’s the kid?”

The child imminently peaked up, “Oh, gods. Hello, Mr. Flash, sir.”

The speedster felt déjà vu. “Hello, little guy. What’s your name?”

The kid putted, “I’m Billy, and for your information I’m eleven and a half!”

He laughed, “not so big if you are still counting the half.”

“That half is 5% of my life, or 2 years of yours.” Billy said with an almost creepy smile.

He turned to the Captain, “dude, what’s wrong with your kid?”

Marvel just smiled, “Oh, come on. He’s just playing.”

“He called me an old man!”

“First, no he didn’t. That words haven’t left his mouth.”

“He implied it!”

“Second, you implied he was a baby.”

“What a menace.” The speedster gave up. “Anyway, let’s go.”

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

“Is everybody here now?” Superman asked, ignoring the exited squeaks from Billy.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m late.” Marvel answered.

The meeting started; a bit boring. Passing reports, making sure everything of the JL was in order.

An hour later; they were technically done, but could not leave until Bats gave them the thumps up.

“Hey, kid, look.” Hal said, making forms with his ring. Billy praised it like he hadn’t seen it a hundred times before.

“That is SO COOL, Mr. Green Lantern, sir!” He exclaimed.

Quickly, all the members noticed the resemblance between the Captain and Billy. Which, for them, was weird. He had only been part of the family for a few months, who could the kid act so much like him? Were all people in Fawcett like this?

That was assuming he wasn’t related to Captain Marvel; but, taking into account that he had managed to hide being homeless for a year, it was possible he was Marvel’s child.

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

He was searching information about the kid; of course he was, he is Batman.

William ‘Billy’ Joseph Batson, orphan at 5, disappeared from foster care at 8 and reappeared a few months ago. Was homeless, until a couple found and adopted him. ‘Jove Olympia’; he opened one of his archives, this one on Greek mythology, and ran a facial recognition program. 90% match between ‘Jove’ and one of Zeus’ statues.

The facts were clear. The Captain, C. C. Batson, pronounced dead, transformed into the god's avatar, found his son Billy running from CPS and ended up living in the streets with him to protect him.

December is specially harsh on the homeless; the Captain probably asked, begged, his patron to take his son to safety. And so he did.

[wilhelminyard]

compilation of nice/sweet things the foxes said to neil because even though they're a bunch of assholes who'll insult anyone in their vicinity they all just love him so damn much (part 2) :

ANDREW :

"I'm not here for your entertainment" "but as expected you are talented enough to multitask"

"you are neil josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive. I don't care if you use this phone tomorrow. I don't care if you never use it again. but you are going to keep it on you because one day you might need it. on that day you're not going to run. you're going to think about what I promised you and you're going to make the call."

"I'm not afraid of you" "that's why you're so interesting"

DAN :

"don't thank us, remember us. we're your teammates. we're here to help you with whatever you need."

"you've got us now"

"that was perfect. but don't do something that reckless again. we can't replace you. hear me?"

"neil, you can use the girls' shower while we're busy"

MATT :

"just try not to think about it until we get there. you won't do yourself any favorite if you spend the ride stressing out about things you can't change."

"if you don't have anywhere to go, I'll drag you home with me"

KEVIN :

"if you get hurt out there, you do something about it. you take it easy, you have coach pull you, you ask abby for help - I don't care. if you ever say 'I'm fine' about your health again I will make you rue the day you were born"

"neil has no place in riko's games. he is a fox."

"run. it's the only way you'll survive"

"you should be court."

"will you still teach me?" "every night."

"I will watch you. if you want to drink tonight. I won't let you say something you'll regret." "you'll be drunk inside an hour. then who'll stop me?" "I would stop drinking."

"you're not going. do you know what he'll do to you?"

WYMACK :

"why did you pay for stalls coach?" "maybe I knew you'd need them one day"

"neil, if you can't be here say so. abby can take you elsewhere until it's time to leave. get out of here and get some fresh air."

"what can I do?" "I don't know" "when you know, tell me"

"sometimes the world feels so big but then I'm reminded how small it is" "big or small just remember you're not alone in it."

"if riko really was behind it somehow, the blame is all on him. he chose to take out his petty rage on seth. he chose to cross a line. you didn't. you hear me? you didn't. don't ever blame yourself for seth's death. that it too dangerous a road to walk down. you keep your eyes on your own path and keep moving forward"

"neil" "I'm fine" "be fine inside where it's warmer"

"look I know I've always told you all to take your personal problems up with betsy or abby. I've said it's not my place to get into anything outside the court. I hope you've figured out by now I'm just blowing hot air. I'm not real good at being a shoulder, but I do have a working set of ears."

"help me" "let me"

"this doesn't mean anything. I'm still a fox." "of course you are."

NICKY :

"kid you're killing me. why do you always get that deer-in-headlights look when someone does something nice for you?"

"you worry about neil's career. I'll worry about his personal happiness."

"I didn't really get into the gritty details last time because those aren't reallt dan and matt's business, but you're family, so I can tell you."

"there's obsession and there's dysfunction. you can't make exy your end-all be-all. this won't last forever, okay? you'll shine bright, then you'll retire, and then what? you gonna spend the rest of your life at home alone with all your trophies? you can't be just this, neil. this isn't enough to live for."

"thanks for taking one for the team, neil. you're a real friend."

"are we? friends?" "you are going to be the absolute death of me. yeah, kid. we're friends. you're stuck with us, like it or not."

"I only see that look on neil's face when someone tries to do something nice for him, but we all know kevin's as bratty as they come. what did you say, kevin, and do I need to defend neil's honor or what?"

RENEE :

"I am not the girl I once was but the shade of my old life will always existe inside of me. that is what helps me connect with andrew. I am hoping it will help me connect with you."

"I do not know your story. if you've trusted andrew with anything, he hasn't shared the details with me and he never will. but if you are as like us as we first predicted you to be, perhaps one day you can also come to see me as a friend."

"if either andrew or I can help you, please know we are here."

"and you neil? are you all right?"

[miifu666]

I remember you made that yandere post on wukong and I love reading it !! I was wondering do you have any thoughts on the destiny one or macaque if their were yanderes ? 👀 if not no worries ^^

Merry Christmas ‼️ time to show off Destined one, who i believe is scarier than the other two, like they say. The quiet one is the scariest. Also, a lot of you asked for DO soo sorry for the long wait 😭

⋆˙⟡ —CW: dub-con, Somnophilia, exhibition kink, Scent kink, Yandere, non-con, NSFT

Yandere! Destined one

Unlike the other two, he's more of a monkey than them. The things he feels are 10x more worse, justified by his actions that he so called "courting you properly" even if its mostly just him stalking you throughout the day and after that, slowly building your own paranoia to work with him. Yuan fen would stay silent, even as you come at him with rapid eve movements around the room and heaving breaths. He's smart enough to hide how he's the source of all your troubles, your every rant about this so called paranoia thats been bugging you, the feeling of being watched and some objects going missing will help him to improve more on his skill.

"I-ive been feeling paranoid around here... please tell me im not crazy, Yuan Fen.."

Yuan fen is a silent person. His actions speaks more in volume. That doesn't mean he's not using it to his advantage, he's like a monster who's been under your nose all this time. The creature who hides under your bed, like literally. Or sleep beside you, depending on how both you travel. Haven't you felt how tiring your body is despite getting a full 8 hours of sleep? Also, why does your underwear get sticky? Are you that exhausted for your intimate areas to be so.. sore? You don't even wake up when Yuan Fen drapes his arms over you, snuggling closer to your nape until the sun shows itself. Uncovering the dirty deeds he did during his time with the moon and on top of you.

His hands are sticky as he continues to spread his musky scent into your chest, making your sleepy self associate his smell with pleasure. Trailing down his fingers down your hips, spreading your legs and pumping your hole with his long and kneady fingers. He's just making you feel comfortable, dont worry too much. On days where he knows you're lethargic, he'll make sure the sheets beneath you to be dry as he goes on his endeavors. Drinking and lapping up every single drop of your sweet honeyed love nectar, the more activities you do in the day, the more sweet you are in the night.

He'll make sure to be silent, aside from his slurping and gulping the nice opening you let him eat on. Eating you out is like his own way of charging his battery, his own personal ambrosia.

"Dont look at me like that! My hips and back are hurting okay! I thought i already put enough leaves on my side of the bed... ugh"

Yuan fen is a sweet mate, a good friend. He'll make sure to to spoil you rotten with fresh fruits he picked, he thinks about you 24/7, makes sure you feel loved with his oh so sweet gesture of being a gentleman, never letting you touch any doorknob or step on any puddles, Yuan fen who wants your approval despite the dominating attitude he gives soff. Yuan fen who notices you melt every time you hear his voice, each new words he said is purposely deeper than the last. Just to make sure he has you crooning over him while he worships you, an object of his desire with a favouritism of his voice? Oh he'll have fun with it.

Yuan fen who would speak to you more once he's face to face with your trembling thighs, making sure to growl the nastiest and filthiest things the moment his hands and throbbing member came in contact with your puffy hole. You'd be taken aback at how he says such vulgar sentence with a straight face, his eyes held the mad obsession he keeps inside.

"Its okay if you can't talk! Your actions are more than enough"

Yan! Yuan fen is an obsessive and possessive monkey who would do anything to mark you. Conscious or not, he'll make you his. He's smart enough to be the mind relic and quiet enough to do unsuspecting acts without gathering attention. He doesn't care if he's being clingy in front of Unclee Bajie, the celestials or even Erlang. Whoever has the guts to try and woo you, is going to enjoy the last 7 seconds of their life.

Is his hands being around your waist not a good enough sign? Is his smell covering every bits and crevices of yours not enough?? Does he need to spread you open in front of them to show who you belong to? He'll do so if it means they'll understand how unworthy you are to them, but not to him. Oh, never him. You're a perfect being, only fit to be his, only created for him. You're his one and only.

"My. Mate"

[sports-on-sundays]

McLaren hat / OP81

Summary: Oscar x girlfriend!reader - You never realised how much pressure would come from simply being a Formula 1 WAG, and start to go a little bonkers with all the PR.

Warnings: I don't remember if Abu Dhabi was hot this season (probably like wasn't at all) but just pretend it was okay?, stress, kind of low self image, anxiety, taking great lengths just to feel accepted

Requested?: No

"Hey Y/n- whoa." As soon as Oscar looks up from his phone at you, his eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

You watch as he looks you over, and immediately say, "Does it look alright?"

"Does it look alright?!" Oscar asks, standing up right away to be in front of you. "Y/n, you look gorgeous." He steps closer, taking your hands, looking at your tight, short black dress, leather boots, and (of course) the McLaren hat upon your head.

"You sure?"

"What do you mean, 'you sure?'?! Of course I'm sure!" he says with a little smile, his eyes returning back to your gaze. "But what made you decide to dress like a model today, anyway?"

You smile softly, glancing away, feeling comforted by his validation, before saying with a little shrug, "I don't know. Just felt like it." Most of the time, you just wear casual clothes: a McLaren shirt and hat, white jeans, and maybe sunglasses. So you can get how Oscar would be so shocked. You suppose you just weren't expecting this much of a reaction.

He brushes your cheek, saying, "You did your makeup differently, too, didn't you?"

"Yeah... is it too much?"

"Not at all. It's bold, but I like it."

You nod with a little relieved sigh. "You sure?"

He nods confidently. "Positive."

"Oh, good," another little smile creeps up on your face. "That's good to hear. Well, I guess I should leave you to your duties now, Oscar. See you later!" you begin to turn around to leave, but he suddenly grabs your hand to pull you back.

He gives you a quick kiss on your cheek and mutters, "Have fun, beautiful," before letting go of your hand again and letting you walk off.

"Oh! Oscar! Don't you think I would look pretty in this...?" you ask excitedly, tugging his hand, holding up a top on a clothes hanger. It's been two hours already of you dragging Oscar from store to store, buying and trying on clothes, simply because you wanted to apparently 'get more nice clothes to wear to F1 races,' and Oscar hasn't had the heart yet to suggest finishing up.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I think you would..." he says, a bit distant, before snapping back into it and saying, "But red's not really your color. Not that you don't look good in it. You look good in everything you wear. I'm just saying-"

"No, no, I get it... I just remember Alex wearing something like this..."

"Alex?" Oscar asks, confused. "Alex who?"

"Oh, you know. Alexandra," when he just proceeds to look even more confused, you add, "Charles's girlfriend?"

"Oh..." Oscar nods as he realizes who you're even talking about, and shrugs, before saying after a few seconds, a bit confused, "Well, of course she'd be wearing red. She's Ferrari."

You crinkle your nose. "Do you really expect me to wear bright orange, Oscar?"

He snorts and says, "No. All I'm saying is that maybe she just wears red for Ferrari. I don't know, I'm not paying attention to her. I only pay attention to you, and though I think you look beautiful in red or not, either way, all I'm saying is that it's just not your color. Besides, you told me to be honest at the beginning of all this. I'm just trying to do what you want me to do. But in then end, I don't really care what you wear; you look amazing either way."

You frown, and suddenly groan, "I wish I looked good in red!"

Oscar smiles, still a bit confused at this complaint. "Why?" he asks earnestly.

You shrug, glancing back down at the shirt. "I dunno. Because Alex looks so good in red."

Oscar cocks his head a bit, apparently still not really understanding. "Who cares what Alexandra looks good in? Because I certainly don't."

You sigh, getting a bit exasperated. "I don't know! I guess I'm just trying to look pretty on the paddock, but I look sucky in all the lovely styles that everyone else always wears!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Oscar says, his hand immediately going to your shoulder. "First of all, you never, ever look sucky, no matter what you're wearing. Second of all, in my opinion, you're always the prettiest in the paddock, no matter who's there. And third of all, who says you have to wear the styles everybody else is wearing? I think your current style is perfectly lovely and fine and beautiful, but even if you do want to change it up, you can find your own. Or invent your own. You don't have to copy Alexandra, or whoever else."

But you only hear half of what he's really saying, and register nearly none of it, and the moment he stops talking, you hold up yet another red top (that honestly doesn't really look that different to Oscar), and say, "How about this one? It's a different shade," holding it up to yourself.

Realizing that this really isn't a battle he's going to win, Oscar just sighs, smiles, and nods, saying, "Actually, yeah. I like the fit would be good. And this color suits you a bit more, too." To him, it looks like the exact same color.

You grin, seeming much more pleased, "Oh, good! Can I go try it on?"

Oscar sigh a bit, smiling and shaking his head, murmuring, "M-hm, sounds good. Can't wait to see it on you, beautiful."

As you walk off to the changing room, Oscar thinks he hears you murmur something about how 'maybe you should just go more for Carmen's style.' Oscar's eyebrows just scrunch together at that, and as he sits down outside the changing rooms to wait for you to come show him, all he can think is, Maybe that's just the way girls are, and I really don't understand them after all.

The excitement of having some of the prettiest girls in the paddock complimenting your outfits is almost too much. The girls that you admire so much.

The ones that handle the fame and attention so well.

You feel like you're already doing better with all that stuff. Once you're convinced you look good, which usually takes at least a half hour of switching outfits, at least twenty reassurances from Oscar, and at least one outside person complimenting your appearance, you feel like a different person.

Like you could conquer the world!

Well, Oscar's not a very sensitive person, nor overly perceptive. It doesn't bother him that you seem to be a bit preoccupied. Not really. Sure, there are some times he wishes you were around when you're not, like you used to be, but he doesn't take it personally. He wants the best for you. And if the best of you is to distance yourself a bit in order to find yourself, or whatever you're doing, he trusts you. As long as you keep saying there's nothing wrong, and you're all good, he'll keep being the first person to believe it.

He just keeps sort of ignoring his intuition telling him that something is just off. Because you're not just growing. It's almost as if you're changing into a new person. Not the girl he asked out years ago. Not the girl he's fallen in love with. On the outside, on the paddock, in public, with all the cameras on you, you seem like the bubbly, friendly perfect type of girl with everything all right. You've never really been that type. Of course, you've always been happy, and to him, you're just perfect. But you've never been so camera hungry and extroverted like you seem to be now. You seem so confident in yourself, it almost seems fake. Though Oscar would never dare consider that thought anymore. It's just that in private, you seem to be the polar opposite of that: tired, quiet, let down. It's like the balanced girl he knew that was consistent nearly all the time has just switched to opposite extremes in different situations. And, well, Oscar has no idea why. He'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't concerned.

But he also can't see any way it'd be right to bring it up.

He just kind of misses the way it used to be. The way you used to be.

"Oscar!" his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by your voice and your footsteps entering the room. It's the early morning before he has to head to the paddock to begin the last race weekend of the season, and he's been laying in bed on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for you to get out of the hotel bathroom so he can have a quick shower.

"Yes?" Oscar asks, setting his phone down as you enter the room. You enter the room to show him your clothes, feeling slightly nervous, and unsure, like countless times before.

You twirl in your outfit, which consists of a white strapless top, dress pants, and black high heels. "How do I look?"

This has been going on for months, now. Probably about half the season. And in that moment, it just kind of snaps in Oscar's brain, and without thinking, and without being supportive like he always is, he decides that today, he's going to be honest. "Well, you look gorgeous. As always, of course, Y/n." He sits up and slips off the bed, before continuing practically, "But how thick are those pants? It's supposed to be killer hot today, and I'd hate for you to cook in those. I mean, they do make you look killer hot. They do look nice. And the high heels are lovely, but you always talk about how much your feet hurt after wearing those. Especially out on the paddock? And," he adds, reaching you, so he's nice and close to you, before picking up his McLaren cap off the hotel nightstand and sticking it on your head, "When did you stop wearing this hat, hm? I always thought you looked adorable in it."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, as if neither of you were expecting all that to come out of Oscar's mouth.

But what happens next is about the last thing Oscar would expect.

You take the hat off your head, throw it at his feet, turn on your heel, and walk straight out of that hotel room.

It all happens so fast, Oscar doesn't even have a moment to register what just happened and call you back before the door shuts behind you.

Ten unread messages from Oscar, and you don't even know why you're so mad, but the last thing you want to do right now is see him.

The first thing you want to do is think through it. Convince yourself he's wrong, and you're right.

He wants me to be a certain way for some reason, and it bothers him that I'm becoming who I want to be? So he just likes an ordinary girl with ordinary looks and ordinary fashion and an ordinary personality?

The truth is, you have no idea why he'd want that more than what you're trying to be.

Maybe he's just controlling? He just wants control over what you wear and how you act? But for the years you've dated him, he's never displayed qualities like those.

Then what is it? your brain screams, and for some reason, tears begin to fill your eyes.

And that's when a whisper of a thought dares to say, Doesn't Oscar want the best for you?

Is doing all this really the best for you?

But all the PR and popularity with fans it's brought you... it's so... validating.

But also so exhausting.

And when you come home at the end of the day, don't you want nothing more than to just take that mask off and destroy it?

You know how fake it is. It's like you work every day to make your mask become your face, but that will never happen, and that's painful.

You were happier before, but your outward 'success' was, like, close to nothing.

Do you really want this?

Can you even give up now?

With all the validation from the fans and media?

Maybe Oscar was a bit much today in the hotel. He was. But maybe he had a point, too...

It's like you can't stop. You keep it up for the rest of the weekend, even to Oscar, now, pretending everything is okay, and it's too much.

But you can't stop.

At the end of the weekend, though, after it's all said and done and you've had enough and all you want is to go to sleep and let your dreams sweep you away, everything in you wants to break down.

You need to be alone.

You need to be alone so you can finally be real.

And, of course, when you walk into the hotel room, there Oscar is, sitting by the window.

Just looking out of it.

"What are you doing?" you demand in slight confusion.

You see him look at you in the reflection of the glass. He doesn't even turn around.

Is this all I am now? Merely a reflection in the glass of the person I was to him?

"Looking out the window, and you?"

"That's all?"

He nods, before finally glancing back at you. Showing you his real, handsome face.

It's late, so late.

He just won his driver's championship, and all you want to do is fall apart.

Why isn't he more happy?

Probably just tired.

And here you are, with your nerve, saying, "Oscar, would you mind leaving?"

You see his eyes flash in confusion in the glass. Fear, even, maybe for just a second. He stands up and faces you, his hands going to your shoulders. "Leaving?"

"Just for... a bit."

"Why?" he demands.

"I need some alone time."

He stares, his eyes softening further, before murmuring, "Since when have you ever asked me for that? How many times have we been alone together?"

"Aren't I allowed some privacy, Oscar?"

"Isn't your whole life privacy, by now, Y/n?" It's not an accusation. It's a desperate question, that you have no answer to.

Because you don't want to say yes, but you can't say no. "Please, Osc..." you murmur, trying to keep it together. "I need this time."

"Darling..." he whispers, like a silent prayer.

Your stomach lurches. Why is he calling me that?

Doesn't he only talk like that when he needs me?

"Oscar, listen..."

"Please..." he whispers. "Let it go. At least for me. Don't you see this isn't good for you?"

"Oscar, I-" your voice cracks.

He sighs. "We don't have to talk. We don't have to lay together, or sit together, or be next to each other. We could be on completely opposite sides of the room as each other." He gulps, before adding, "Just let us be alone together. Like we used to always be, when it hurt, and we needed alone time, but we knew we'd both always be there when the other needed it. It's starting to feel so lonely out here without you, darling..." he stroke your cheek gently.

You gulp, fighting back tears.

"Take off those shoes, go put on your pajamas. Just relax, beautiful. Let your cover fall. I don't ever want to forget the you you are without it."

"Do you want me to cry?"

"Never."

"Then why-"

"Because I'd rather you cry if you need to than hold it in and let it rot the inside of you, love."

Love.

"That's the first time you've ever called me that..." you murmur as you slowly lean against the bed to slip off your shoes.

He smiles softly, which surprises you.

You quickly slip on pajamas, before crawling into bed, and murmuring, despite yourself, "Can you come over?"

And in seconds, Oscar's crawling into bed next to you, tucking the two of you in.

"Hold me."

"It's my pleasure," he responds softly, gently pulling you into his chest.

You lay there like that for a while, before whispering, your voice so weak, "Oh, God, Oscar... I'm so, so tired."

"I know you are, darling. I know." He kisses the tops of your head.

Your voice cracks a bit, and this time, you let the tear fall. "I just... I just felt like maybe I should've... been more like them. I'll admit it, I got jealous."

Oscar strokes your hair.

You swallow. More tears fall. "I just guess I felt like I wasn't good enough, but they all were."

"Good enough for what?"

You stare, the question lingering like a germ in the air. "For the media. For the fans. For every single person watching me every single race weekend."

He kisses your nose. "Pressure got to you. Did you ever feel like you weren't good enough for yourself?"

You swallow, shrugging. Nod a bit.

He sighs softly, nodding. Takes your hand and begins whispering, "I want you to know. You're worthy of every single kiss, every single hug, every single sigh, every single tear. You're worthy of every single star in the sky, every single drop in the ocean. You're worthy of laughter and sunshine and so, so much love. You're worthy of..." Oscar trails off, suddenly feeling an unexpected wave of emotion hit himself, before he gains his grip once more again and continues with, in merely a soft whisper, "You're worthy of all the joy and goodness in with world. And you'd know that if you knew how much joy and goodness you project into the world, without even trying, without even thinking about it." He swallows to keep his voice from cracking, and finishes with, "Please know, no matter what happens, or whatever anyone says, I'll always love you for who you are. I'll always be here to be your home. I want you for everything you are, and nothing that you feel you've ought to be. Because to me, you're perfect just the way you are. That is the kind of worth you have, and I wish you could see that, too."

The moment the last beautiful whisper of a word exits his mouth, you break down, fall into him, and cry. And he whispers about wiping away every single one of your tears, because you deserve none of the pain you're going through.

The fact that you've done all this, and brought it on yourself, and hurt him, and he stills says this.

Once your tears have subsided, Oscar smiles a bit, looking into your eyes like you're the most beautiful sunrise, or sparkling dew fresh in the morning, or the glimmer of the sun on the ocean, or any other beautiful thing that could fascinate even the coldest of people. And he whispers, wiping away the last of your stray tears, "Dress for no one but yourself, love. Be who you are. Because whatever you want to wear, you'll stun me. And I love you for exactly the person you are, nt the person you feel you ought to be. Whether you're in an evening gown with the most beautifully done makeup, or in your pajamas with tangled up hair, to me, you'll always, no matter what, be the most gorgeous, amazing, beautiful, perfect woman I have ever set my eyes upon."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Oscar, you..." You're utterly speechless.

He holds you close, and for the first time in months, you feel a certain peace envelop you.

You feel like you're home again.

Maybe all you needed was a good cry and the most perfect boyfriend any girl could ask for.

As your exhausted body gives itself away to slumber you hear Oscar murmur after gently kissing your scalp, "Can't wait to see you in my McLaren hat again, darling."

And you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[darkfictionjude]

Nia - The meeting

1979

She thought that her mother was bringing her to the park far too frequently. She remembered how a long time ago — she isn’t good at giving a good estimate on time. It was probably a week ago — she begged to be taken to the park by the library.

Her mother had been so busy lately and she didn’t know why. Her mother didn’t have a job unlike her father.

Nia didn’t even know what a ‘job’ was but she knew that her father would leave when the sun was low but going up and come back when the moon was out.

She asked her mom if she had a ‘job’ and she had said her job was taking care of her.

Nia thought she was too big for anyone to take care of her. She could tie her shoelaces all by herself and knew how to make a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich.

“Mom, look!” Nia yells as she raises her arms above her head, sitting at the top of the slide.

Nia’s mother was rubbing her chin, her eyes downcast. Nia yells again, louder. Her mother looks up, her eyes searching throughout the park games. They find her daughter and she smiles quickly.

Something in Nia’s stomach twists, her mom’s smiles don’t last long anymore. She used to smile so much that Nia would forget what she looked like when she wasn’t. Now she can’t remember what it looked like when she was.

Nia pushes herself down the slide, the hard plastic hurting her legs. She lands on her feet, moving aside as the next kid comes down after her. She watches as her mother looks down at the ground again, she doesn’t look like she’s thinking about anything.

Nia looks at the kid who lands on their feet a few paces away. The kid is dressed drably. In muted colours that make the deep indents under their eyes look even more pronounced. They rub their hands and look at her.

They both blink at each other before the kid runs off to the monkey bars. An older boy on the swings warns them loudly to not run or they’ll fall. The kid doesn’t look like they heard him.

Nia has seen that kid around. They are always with the older boy. They look the same, they must be siblings. Nia wishes she had a sibling, sometimes. but then that wish goes away when she thinks about sharing.

The kid looks like they’re as old as her. Are they going to be in school together? She doesn’t know if she’d like that. They don’t seem to be like her. They don’t even dress like her. Nia rubs the mesh fabric of her dress.

Even if she did want to be friends with them, Father would never allow it. He says he knows who his little princess should be friends with. Father knows best.

Nia looks back at her mother. People say they look alike. The same hair, eyes and skin colour. Nia likes that. She thinks her mom is the prettiest mom in the whole world. A queen from her fairytale book.

Despite her age, Nia knows mother’s skin looks less alive than usual. Her hair doesn’t look like she used a comb in days and Nia is sure she has been wearing that yellow dress for more than a day.

But Nia doesn’t know what to say. ‘Are you ok?’ isn’t yet in her vocabulary. She takes a step towards her mom when she’s thrown to the ground.

Her cheek slides against the hard ground, her hip blossoms in pain. She lifts a hand up and sees tiny little rocks embedded in her palm.

She lifts her head up and sees the familiar figure of the kid laying on the ground next to them, their feet pointed towards Nia. Nia looks from them to the slide and stifles a little cry.

The older boy runs to their sibling’s side. She doesn’t pay attention to what he’s saying, his voice does sound mad but worried. Nia sits up and looks to where her mother was sitting.

Is sitting.

Her mom hasn’t moved. She’s still looking down. Nia feels like she wants to cry now. She sniffs and dusts her hands. She flicks little rocks stuck to her dress. She moves her feet to stand up.

“Are you ok?”

A hand is thrust in front of Nia’s face. She looks from that small hand, up the dull skin of their arm, to their shoulder, to their neck and finally to their face looking down at them.

The kid who pushed her down has a neutral look on their face. They don’t look sorry. They don’t even look worried. Nia wants to smile. Instead she picks herself up and stands at eye-level with them.

The kid drops their hand and says nothing. Nia tucks her hair behind her ears and places one hand on her hip.

“You didn’t say sorry.”

The kid doesn’t react to this, their eyes briefly flicking over to their older brother who’s standing a few feet away, watching them.

The kid looks down Nia’s dress, zeroing in on a certain part. “Your dress is ripped,” they say.

Nia looks down and sure enough there’s a small tear. She presses her lips together. She looks up at the other kid’s face.

“You ripped it. You need to pay for a new one,” she says. The other kid blinks once. Nia can’t tell if they are bored or plain dumb. She’s never seen a kid with eyes that look like the eyes of her goldfish when he died.

“I don’t have money,” they reply.

Nia looks over at her mother who stands up and slowly — eyes still somewhere else — walks down the path away from the park.

“I’m going home but you have to do everything I say for one month,” Nia says, not asking.

The kid follows Nia’s eyes and sees the lady in the yellow dress becoming smaller.

“Ok.”

Nia doesn’t respond and tries not to run as she attempts to reach her absentminded mother. The next day Nia comes to the park and she and her new assistant begin a month-long business agreement.

[x-gabrielle-x]

Tides Of Survival | 1

Pairings: Finnick Odair x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death, (eventual) smut, mentions of forced prostitution.

Summary: The white swan of the Capitol; gracious, elegant, and innocent. You catch many of the Capitol's attention in your games, whether that was due to your agility, cleverness, or looks in all, even managing to capture the gaze of your young mentor and old friend, Finnick Odair.

Series Masterlist | Pinterest Board

Although most days in District Four were hot, today was definitely one of the most. The sun blared down on your back and sweat lined your forehead, creased with dedication and concentration. You swore that if it were to get any hotter than this, your skin might as well be melting off.

The breeze did little to cool you down, the wind hitting your face as your fingers worked at the knots in your aching hands. You could conclude now that you were miserable at knot tying.

Frowning, your smaller hands lifting the mess of a rope up to your father's gaze, you called him.

"I still can't do it, Pa" you whined, gaze trained on him as his fingers worked effortlessly at his now half-finished net.

He glanced down, brown eyes flicking between you and the disaster held tightly in your smaller grip. He smiled, though his fingers remained at his work.

"You'll get it, Princess. You've only been practicing for a few hours," he tried, but you were determined.

"All the kids at school can make them now, I don't want to be left out." Twisting the rope between your hands, you undid the poor knot before aimlessly placing it down on the wooden work bench, fingers raw from the rough material.

He hummed, picking up a weight that laid off to his right and tying it to his work. "Sometimes it's just harder for others to learn. Thats why we practice, so that we become better."

You huffed when he turned away, though you weren’t able to avert your gaze from his hands. They worked effortlessly with the small rope, weaving and pulling into patterns. Though District Four was full of different kinds and styles of nets and knots, your fathers were some of their proudest works.

"How about this," he started, eyeing you at his side as you sat atop the table boredly, legs kicking back and forth. "When we get home, I have some old rope in my bedroom. We can practice together when I'm off work. Does that sound good?" He asked, and like a switch your smile was gleaming back up at him.

He laughed, a solemn look flashing over his features when he went to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "You smile just like your ma, Princess." He pressed a quick kiss to your head.

Whilst he continued his work, you allowed for your gaze to wonder. The docks of District Four were crowded with workers; some actively catching a variety of fish and others weaving and knotting nets at the benches like your father. The air lingered the smell of salt and seaweed with every crash of the waves against the shore. The heat blaring down at you made you ache for the feeling of the cool water surrounding your body, and you watched on as sunlight danced across the water like ribbons of gold, as if taunting you to give in.

"How much longer?" You asked. The sun had yet to set, and you knew that would mean a few hours at the least.

Your father let out a breath, and you didn't miss the way his hands trembled and flexed with exhaustion. "Still got a few hours, Hun. I need to go and grab something off Matt, so stay put here, alright?"

Once you nodded, he was already walking a few tables down and disappearing into the crowd of people. Now alone, your gaze caught onto the rope beside you, fingers etching out to grab the rough material when a voice piped up from behind you.

"Maybe I can help you."

You turned, startles to see a young boy stood behind you. You recognized him as one of the boys from the year above you, though you didn't remember his name. His sun-bleached blonde hair was pushed around from the salty ocean breeze, and his green eyes sparkled with mischief. He stood with a certain confidence that you admired, his gaze trained on the untied knot at your side.

You hummed in question, and seeing your confusion he picked up the rope you had previously discarded, twirling it in his palm as if he was dissecting it.

"I've already tried," you told him, though you were quite embarrassed admitting it. A District Four girl couldn't even tie her own net.

He raised a brow. "Can you tie shoelaces?"

Taken aback, you frowned at him, slightly offended. "Yes, I can tie shoes. I'm not that bad."

"Can you tie any knots?"

"Only a few my Pa taught me."

His lips quirked into a grin. "Great! Then you won't have a problem."

He handed you the rope before fishing around in a nearby crate of ropes. Finding what he was looking for, he turned to you and set the rope out flat.

"All you need to do it watch carefully, and if you're stuck ill help you."

You didn't answer, only watching as he slowly began to explain to you between weaving and pulling. He kept it at a slow pace so that you were able to follow along easily, and though you messed up a few times, he was quick to correct you. Your movements were hesitant and slow as you tied your knot, and you noticed Finnick pause at your side.

"You know," he began. "You make fumbling around look kind of fancy."

You wrinkled your nose into a scowl. "Thats not a compliment."

He laughed, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye. "I promise it is," he said.

A pause.

"What's your name?" He had asked, watching you closely. He noticed that you barely were watching him work now, instead getting the hang of the knots yourself.

You glanced at him, smiling brightly. "Y/N."

He nodded. "I'm Finnick."

After some time, you couldn't help but to smile down at the finished net in your hands. It was only small and still poorly done, but it was better. Better than any progress you'd made so far. You held it up to Finnick, gleaming brightly.

"See? You did it!" Finnick smiled, though he let out a small laugh when you eyed the net wearily with a grimace. "Not bad for somebody who can't tie shoelaces."

You shot him a look, though the corner of your lip tilted into a smile. "I told you I could tie laces?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just better now."

You lifted the net so that it was eye level with the both of you. Some of the knots were better than others, and half the net hung lower than the other, but nevertheless it was yours.

"Should we test it?" Finnick questioned, and you eagerly nodded and jumped off the bench.

The planks creaked beneath your feet as you ran to the end of the deck, Finnick hot on your trail. The net was practically tangled around your arms, and you shrugged it off with excitement, gazing down at the water below. You noticed some of the Peacekeepers leant up against the wooden railing, and though their helmets concealed their expressions, you knew they were watching. They always were.

"Let's hope your throwing is better than your net making," Finnick joked, but you ignored him, finally getting the newly made net untangled and throwing it as far out into the water as you could.

"Imagine how good I'll be in a few weeks," you thought, but Finnick was quick to nudge you.

"Not ever as good as me, though."

You opened your mouth to retort but were cut off by a gasp when a splash in the water caught your attention. Finnick helped to pull your net back up onto the doc, the both of you noticing it had come back empty.

"I definitely saw something," you murmured, though there was no upset in your tone. You were eying the net carefully, gaze practically burning.

Finnick shrugged. "Next time, we can make the-"

"Wait!" You suddenly squealed, digging around into the wet net. It was then that Finnick realized the subtle movements from under one corner of the net. You dug around, hand finally clasping around the fish.

"I got one!" The words caught in your throat with excitement, and you watched entranced by the scales of the fish that shimmered like treasure. Perhaps it was treasure to you.

The moment was short lived when the fish in its mighty attempt flapped its fins, slipping from your grasp and falling back into the water. Finnick was prepared to assure you that you could always try again, but when you turned to him, bright smile on your face, he swore he'd never seen anybody happier. Your smile was contagious to him.

"I caught a fish in my own net!" You jumped up and down, and you noticed your father back at the work bench from the distance. You turned to Finnick, E/C eyes sparkling with pride. "Next time we will catch more fish together." It was a promise.

"Thank you, Finnick," you gleamed, before running back to your father with the soaking net, telling him about the exciting news and practically shoving your new net in his face.

Your words echoed in his mind. Next time, he thought, the smile lingering on his face at the promise of many.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[roonotrue]

Twisted Wonderland - He Hears You Singing (About Him)

Twisted Wonderland Writings Masterpost

Heartslabyul Edition, Savanaclaw Edition

Prompt: While relaxing, and doing chores around the Ramshackle dorm for your weekend restoration of the barely standing building, your thoughts drift to love songs from your old world. You think of songs that remind you of your closest fellow NRC student and significant other, and end up singing one while you work.

Reader: GN reader - They/Them pronouns and they are referred to as 'MC/Prefect' in this one. And let's all just agree that MC is a great singer- cuz some of these songs have mad vocals that I would never dream of trying to sing myself with my incredibly average voice, and I imagine a lot of you are the same.

Included Characters: Octavinelle Edition!

Warnings: None.

Request Rules & Information Here

~~~

Azul Ashengrotto - "Adore You" by Harry Styles

- Why did he stop by Ramshackle? He can't remember. It was something about taste testing the new spring menu, maybe? He's not sure it matters anymore, given how enamored he is with the sound of your voice right now.

- Is frozen in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights, he hadn't even realized it was you singing (he thought it was from your phone or something on a radio) until he turned the corner and saw you.

- When you see him, he turns all kind of shades of scarlet, embarrassed at being caught staring, but he quickly composes himself.

- Immediate compliments followed quickly by an offer to sing at the Mostro Lounge sometime- you'd be paid generously of course-

- On the outside he's acting cool, but the song in question really did fluster him quite a bit, and thoughts of you singing it again just for him keep intruding in his mind, and if you look closely you can see his ears remain a pretty shade of pink the whole conversation after.

- Does truly think you would look stunning dressed up in lavish clothes, preforming on the stage of the Mostro Lounge, are you sure you don't want to? He'll throw in a free meal plus pay!

"My, my, MC, that was a lovely performance. You should put those wonderful vocals to use, I'm sure everyone would be in awe of you at the Lounge. Some may even show up just to see you- I certainly would."

~~~

Jade Leech - "Dive" by Olivia Dean

- He's honestly quiet pleasantly surprised when he enters Ramshackle (without knocking of course) and hears your wonderful singing voice.

- A soft (dare I say genuine?) smile makes it's way to his face as he approaches the living area where you're cleaning, and stands patiently in the doorway for you to finish the song- one he's never heard before but it flows rather smoothly, much like the jazz played at the lounge.

- He finds the lyrics rather intriguing too, now what would inspire you to sing such a romantic song? A crush perhaps? The idea of you having enough of a crush on someone to sing such a song about them makes him... Well, he'll just focus on what he has right in front of him for now, and save those pesky feelings for later self-analysis.

- When you catch him he is completely shameless in his staring, as a matter of fact, his smile grows, before he gives a curious tilt of his head and motions with his hand for you to continue.

- What? Your voice was beautiful, of course he wants to hear it more. What's he doing here? Oh, well, he's come to ask if you'd like to be the first to taste test the Mostro Lounges new spring menu.

- Sure he didn't knock, but it's honestly your fault for not locking the front door- oh, the locks are broken? That can't possibly be safe. Perhaps you should stay at Octavinelle until they are fixed, that way he can hear your voice much more often.

- As a matter of fact, instead of 100 thaumarks a night for a room, he's sure he can arrange for you to sing at the Lounge every night for payment instead.

"Oh, please don't mind me, continue. Your voice is quite delightful, you should consider singing at the Lounge- though, I'm not sure I want anyone else to hear you but me..."

~~~

Floyd Leech - "Risk" by Gracie Abrams

- oHohOHo, you're never gonna live this down PT. 3

- The moment he barges into Ramshackle in a poor mood, looking for his favorite Shrimpy to cheer him up, he freezes at the sound of you're voice.

- But not for long.

- One second, you're alone, singing as you do some chores, and the next second you're being spun around in Floyd Leech's arms as he laughs cheerfully.

- He loves your voice. Keep singing! He wants to dance with you while you do! Forget those boring chores! He's here now, so you can both have fun! You're so adorable he could squeeze you till you pop!

- You should come by the lounge sometimes and sing to him to make his shifts less boring. He's sure Azul wouldn't mind- and if he does, then you two can just leave and have your own party elsewhere!

- He will, without a doubt, demand that you sing to and for him at the most random of times, hell, he might even barge into the middle of your class in a foul mood and demand a serenade from his Shrimpy.

- If you truly won't sing to him, his mood may worsen and you won't see him for awhile while he sorts himself out, whereas if you do sing for him, he will immediately start to feel better.

- The best moment he could ask for to fix his mood, is laying beside you his head in your lap, while you sing. It helps him decompress, and feel so much better from whatever was overwhelming him or souring his mood.

"Shrimpy~! Nice set of pipes! Well, don't stop singing, let's dance together! I knew you'd be doin' something fun, you always cheer me right up!"

~~~

Can you guys tell that Octavinelle is one of my favorite dorms? Particularly the twins? Especially Floyd, his unpredictability with his mood swings are very relatable as someone with severe untreated ADHD and bipolar tendencies. I just think he's neat guys. And fun to write. Anyway! Merry Christmas everyone, and I'll see you next post! ~ Roo

[kissingmensbiceps]

Thinking about college tutor! Kento Nanami who helps you stay on track, especially right before the holidays and upcoming finals. You being incredibly stressed about all the exams and cramming in study time, on top of your regular tutoring sessions at the library. Of course, Nanami takes notice of your lack of concentration, seeing how emotionally drained you are from the endless amount of homework, flash cards, reading, and all around studying, that seems to do nothing but suck the last bit of life out of you. So he suggests an idea that could totally benefit the both of you!

That’s how your usual study session in the library moved into your dorm room, very convenient that your roommate was not there because she would’ve had to deal with the obnoxious sound of pages flipping and fingers tapping on your keyboard, not to mention the sounds of pleasure from your lips as Nanami’s cock slipped so deliciously in and out of your velvety walls.

Knees cramped up to the side of your face in a mating press, his girth pumping into you so slowly that it made you yearn for more, but he didn’t go faster, much to your displeasure.

Nanami kissed the corner of your lips when he sees a tear slip delicately down your cheek. “Aw, don’t cry, baby. Be good for me, n’ i’ll go faster.” He cooed into your ear as your fingers gripped his broad shoulders. “Now tell me . . . What does DNA stand for?” Breath hot against your cheek as you create crescents into his skin.

“I-I don’t know.” You whimper out, brain too foggy to even remember the simplest of things. You gasp when you suddenly feel empty, the warmth of his cock gone when he pulls out abruptly. “What’re you doing?” Your eyes are glossy with unshed tears, already missing the full feeling his cock gave you.

“You do remember, and you will remember.” His tone his firm, making you feel little underneath him. “Now answer my question, sweetheart. What does DNA stand for?”

You cry out once you answer correctly, little praises being whispered in your ear as he pushes his length back into your hot and soppy cunt, strong biceps obstructing your view from both sides.

He ruts into you at a slightly higher pace, but it’s still not enough to hit that spongy, aching spot deep inside you. You need more.

But the only way that’s gonna happen is if you answer the questions correctly, isn’t that right, baby?

So Nanami grunts out questions, which you can recall to the times previously that had been gone over time and time again during sessions in the library with him. Mind flashing back to all the readings, all the papers, and all the flash cards you had been through over the last few weeks.

Crying out answers through fat tears that sat on the edge of your eyes, just begging for more. And each time you got a question correct, he would up the ante, pounding deep into your mushy hole, filling you up oh so nice.

A correct answer? A twirl of your nipple in between his fingers. Another correct answer? A praising “good girl” and an extra deep thrust into your cunt. Oh! Another correct answer? You are doing just such a good job! Cream all over his dick, baby, it’s okay.

Soft kisses to your wet mouth, swallowing your cries as you cum all over his cock, giving you a few good extra thrusts before releasing his own into your sticky pussy. The room humid and smell of sex in the air, hopefully to be aired out before your roomie gets back. Chests heaving, breaths mixing together after he gives you one last lazily, slow kiss to your puffy lips as a way of saying, “good job.” And best of all, you got through almost all the questions on your flash cards!

Let’s just say you passed all your finals with flying colors! :)

[sasahuaa]

Can you add scaramouche to your omega character series? He'd be a disastrous omega that needs lots of healing but I'm sure his partner can provide

You're doing great! I love reading your fics and characterization

Scaramouche as an omega

I was really considering Scaramouche before to start with genshin! I was a bit scared to start with Scara because I could see that I would start yapping, and almost did, I had to cut so many things bc my initial idea was to write him in all stages of his life, also not sure if you meant the canon timeline or fatui!scaramouche, but I can do that in the future, for now this fic has some brief mentions of Kabukimono and the fatui. And thank you for the kind words, it means a lot!

gn!reader; cw: contains deep dives into his mindset so he has pessimistic thoughts in some parts (like him thinking that reader is a sort of player, bur nothing too heavy)

This poor omega is indeed disastrous, since the moment his creator abandoned him, Kabukimono was left with a lot of questions regarding his worth. He does not understand, truly, by venturing around he discovered that omegas were not treated with much respect, was that the reason why his mother abandoned him? Does she think an alpha would be more appropriate to be an archon? But he was a puppet, designed by her will, it didn't make sense why she would make him an omega to begin with if that was her reasoning, so what was wrong with him?

The little fledgling was happy during his stay in Tatarasuna, Niwa was a father figure that teached him many skills, and the village helped each other, he was pampered by everyone. What a pity that disaster caused by a doctor's interest befell such a kind community.

Scaramouche felt his dignity crumble more each year, month, day, second that passed. At every step that he was corrupted by the fatui's ideals and methods - his body torn apart from Dottore's experiments - the thoughts of self-doubt grew in his mind. He wasn't enough to be a god, discarded before he had the chance to try, his hands didn't purify the water nor cut through mountains, no one would sing his name in worship, but he also wasn't enough to be human, his skin is artificial, unflawed like porcelain, not even a mechanical heart occupy the emptiness of his hollow chest. Forever lost in between the limbo of where his existence belongs.

For a being so emotional, Scaramouche wonders when was the last time he felt anything besides rage, it doesn't matter too much for him, as he learned how to use his anger as a tool. His underlings - though only in the fatui, as the people of Sumeru never faced the omega's wrath (or better worded, don't remember) - whispered out of his earreach, murmurs wondering if the beautiful omega was capable of love.

And now, carrying the title of Wanderer and face to face with the reason that made the vacant part of him tremble, he finally found the answer.

Courting

Nahida's orders indirectly led him to you, to be a student of the Akademiya would eventually force him to interact with other scholars, you being from Vahumana or not didn't matter, as students from different darshans would often benefited from cooperating. And like many people he met nowadays, he was indifferent at first, which considering his past as The Balladeer, when everyone was an annoying fly in his way, is a considerable improvement.

But for many aspects of life, even as he accepted that this would be something that he never would reach, he was interested in humanity. What makes people human, their flaws, traits, mannerisms and personality, what makes them yield or fill them with confidence. His almost deification didn’t bring him the same satisfaction as he felt with Niwa and the rest of the Tatarasuna people, but watching the Sumeru's citizens may be close enough.

If it's something he can't be, then he will appease himself by observing.

As he looks at alphas, he thinks that this is another thing that he is flawed at. In his studies, Scaramouche determined that omegas supposedly went crazy over alphas, but he never felt it before, or maybe he never gave himself a chance to try. A long time before he learned the consequences of creating genuine connections, that humans tend to betray the same way gods do.

But… he learned that they never did abandon him, that maybe he can trust again.

And while you both worked on your project, these types of thoughts ushered to the top of his mind like never before. You were nice to him,and laughed it off when he was being purposely cunning. You were also attentive, meticulous in your work and doting on him, always bringing him tea or other types of bitter delicacies, and just shrugged when he said there was no need to feed him.

He liked to see your reactions, there were moments when your behaviour took a tired and upset turn, when you mumbled curses about the things that went wrong with your work. It was somewhat relieving and entertaining to witness, that the gentle façade crumbles when faced with challenges.

“It's always better to work with a full stomach” you said, not sparing a thought that he didn't need to eat.

“This is pointless” the omega grumbled, he took a step away from the food.

“So just eat for the satisfaction of it, the success rate of content workers is higher than stressed ones” you insisted, and Scaramouche hated that.

Why do you treat it like there was no trouble in taking care of him? Getting out of your way to please others is dumb, especially for the likes of him.

The omega knows that he is a pessimist, that people always have motives behind their actions, and even Nahida didn't escape his judgement as he does not believe she is merely being kind and benevolent. You are no different, and when he is alone with his thoughts after bidding you goodbye and retiring for the day, he must find your intentions.

As he looks himself in the mirror, Scaramouche looks carefully at his appearance, “alphas and betas are always kinder to pretty omegas, we all know that they only want one thing” it's what the older men from the bazar say. He raises his hands to cup his face, fingers touching smooth skin with no marks, doe indigo eyes look back at him with something akin to divinity, and as he glances lower, he does not think his body lacks in beauty.

That must be it, they clearly are being good to me only to get in my pants!

Scaramouche is not a saint, he knew that, but since he started to work on his path to atonement, he was completely honest about himself. The omega knows that not everyone is like that, people that mask themselves behind lies and generous mannerisms are the worst kind of evil, and to think that you would be capable of that-

Hurts.

There is an annoying pain in his chest and a prickle behind his eyes. He needed proof, he will uncover the worst in you, that's a promise he made to himself.

Scaramouche was snarky and insufferable the following days, refusing to cooperate at all. And though he won't admit it, it was hard for him to do that, your scent wavered with a hint of sadness everytime he was rough, and he felt a need within him clawing to be free, he had to fight himself against releasing a comforting scent to appease you.

But his instinct quieted down whenever he saw you acting honorably to other omegas, when you held the door open for a nobody, or when you generously lent a hand to someone feeling troubled. The rage he felt was immeasurable, he growled lowly and was almost convinced to attack whoever was taking your attention from him.

So he wasn't special at all, he wasn’t needed, he wasn't wanted, it's always like that.

It all came to a boiling point when he snapped at you, harsh words thrown at your directions about what he thought you were doing, messing with omegas hearts just to set them aside when you were done getting what you wanted, truly shameful. Nonetheless, he felt regretful when he saw your pained expression.

“What made you think that?” your voice was quiet, and Scaramouche would prefer if you looked pissed by his accusations, anything to reassure him that he was right “You could have told me you were uncomfortable, I would've stopped”

Uncomfortable? He isn't uncomfortable by your actions towards him, he is… pleased that you did not shy away from a broken thing like him. What he did not like was when you did things for others that he believes should be only for him, and the perceptions he created himself even when you never gave him a reason to.

During all this time Scaramouche was overwhelmed by feelings, and though he is used to feel too much, what he felt about you was completely foreign to him, not the familial care he felt for Niwa and the kid from ages ago, not the gratefulness he felt for Nahida and the traveler for giving him a chance to atone for his mistakes, and not the kinship when he met Durin.

“So are you saying that you were running away from it?” Nahida questioned, placing a flower crown above the omega's head, aranara's joyfully circling around both of them “It's fine to be scared, and if you talk to them about it I am sure they will understand”

“How are you sure that people won't disappoint you? Don't you believe it's easier if you cut the problem by the roof so you never have to discover it?”

“I decide to give an opportunity for everyone to prove themselves, and maybe you would be happily surprised by the results” the goddess cupped his face, pinching the fat of his cheeks and giggling when Scaramouche bat her hands away “You look different since you met them, even your scent doesn't hold that sour end from before”

And he followed Nahida's advice, not because she told him what to do, but staying away from you was killing him inside. This is not normal, is it? To think the world is falling apart just because your desired person is not close by.

Moreover, he guesses that since becoming a citizen of Sumeru he started to work on redeeming himself, what is one more person to apologize for when you acted out of line?

Scaramouche prepared a basket of fruits and Padisarah flowers and headed to your work station, exchanging these types of words is still unfamiliar to him, but he made it very clear that he wanted to improve your relationship.

It's possible that the state of your relationship was just confirmed when someone he was jealous of before questioned him.

“Of course we are courting, don't ask stupid questions”

Honestly, it's possible Scaramouche just came to terms with his feelings after he said that. The omega was still astonished that he is loved back, he doesn't know if he deserves this.

And yet, he can't deny himself the pleasure of being in your arms, taking deep breaths of your scent and resting his eyes with your rumbling under his head. If he is being selfish and taking a good alpha form a good omega, so be it! No one deserves you anyway, if another omega even thinks of taking you from him they will be met with sharp teeth and claws.

You both become inseparable, while it's mostly because he enjoys spending time with you as much as you - and he sees you as one of the few people that it's not a waste of time to be together -, it's also a result of a deeply buried insecurity of being betrayed, he knows that some were misunderstandings, but it's hard to change a mindset after hundreds of years believing in it.

He prefers the reassurance coming from actions instead of words, so when his alpha permit him to scent all of their clothes and also their body, or hold him tight and shows that he belongs by their side when he is feeling bothered by the presence of another, it's moments like this that he feels the most complete.

Scaramouche is truthful in a relationship and he expects you to do the same, if he feels that he needs something and you can provide he will ask, he may not be the romantic type, but everyday he makes it very clear how much he adores you.

He doesn't have a favorite gift to receive - unless you make a table full of sweets, he will complain non-stop if you do that. Spending time together is enough for him, but he appreciates anything you give him, gift him a small plushie and say you thought of him when you saw it, perhaps he will tease you and joke a little, but he will keep it safe. If you give Scaramouche jewelry or any small token, he will bring it with him anywhere he goes. His gifts to you include artifacts he finds when Nahida sends him on expeditions, also Scaramouche doesn't have hobbies for himself, so instead he will engage on yours.

Growling

During the fatui era, growls were very frequent sounds he made, it was almost impossible that someone that worked with him and never heard him growl. And he felt so powerful doing so, a long time ago, while he still lived in Inazuma, omega's were heavily punished if they growled at someone, and though this conservative behavior diminished a lot compared to the past, it was far from being extinguished.

So with his title as a harbinger, Scaramouche growled until they all cowered by his feet, just like a god should be revered.

But since living in Sumeru, he doesn't growl as much anymore, this is because he is not as stressed as before, he lifted the weight off his shoulders that was having to act like something he would never become, he was not trying to sacrifice his body for his objectives anymore. There's the occasional growl when other people irritate him, as a warning to watch their words and actions.

In a relationship with you, Scaramouche also growls when he is feeling jealous or insecure, but overall, he does not growl at you unless he is in a deep mindset that something feels wrong, he will require reassurance in times like this.

Purring

Scaramouche doesn't remember the last time he purred, and now he is almost sure his purr box is broken. The omega has two reasons to think that, one is that it has been centuries, he does not know how to purr due to the disuse of that part of his vocal cords, another is because of the experiments Dottore made on him, turning his body almost inside out.

Nowadays he does not care whether he purrs or not, it's a thing he lived almost his entire life without, and he does not miss it.

If he somehow discovers that he can purr again, it would be an almost inaudible sound. If you want to hear it, you would need to rest your head over his chest, it's more vibrational than vocal. Scaramouche will not purr in public, for him, it's a thing that just both of you should be aware of.

Nesting

Scaramouche does not have a proper nest, actually, what he calls his nest is merely two pillows and one blanket that he carries around his home. at max he will try to put the blanket in a circular shape.

He took a while before introducing you to his nest. He was a bit insecure at first, other omega's have big and filled nests, with an enormous assortment of colors and textures, while his… during the fatui, he would say it was just another thing that proved something was wrong with him.

And he enjoys it so much when you are with him in his nest, you could be just relaxing around the house, and he would bring his blanket and wrap it around you wordlessly. It made him feel warm with adoration whenever he saw you inside something purely his.

He won't get out of his way to buy or make things for his nest, but he will increment it if it is a gift from his alpha. He thinks it is kind of lovable that his alpha would try to get things to make him more comfortable, and Scaramouche deeply appreciates that.

Marking

He marks you all the time, even before you started to officially court. His scent is now almost ingrained into your skin, and if he already had permission to give you a biting mark, he would.

It's not just a sign for other omegas that you are already committed to him, it's also a reminder for you, that you have an omega to come back to, and that he would do anything to keep you with him.

But even after he becomes confident that you won't leave him behind - no omega or yourself is going to separate you from him - he still covers you in his smell, Scaramouche became very fond of the whole process of scent marking and to claim you for himself.

It's therapeutic to him, he will nuzzle quietly your cheeks and bring the scent glands of his wrists to your neck, not a single gland of your go untouched. For him, it's a mandatory procedure that you must go through before leaving home, especially if your agendas oblige you to not be together for the rest of the day.

Subspace

He never entered subspace before you, and it also took a while for you to achieve that. He denied himself the mindset many times before, he felt kinda scared by it, to be so vulnerable. Anytime he felt that his mind was starting to feel like it was becoming cotton filled, Scaramouche immediately backed away from you and tried to distract himself.

When he does enter subspace, he is whiny and clingy, following you around your home and hugging you when you are busy, from behind if you are cooking, sitting on your lap and throwing his arms around your neck while you work.

Scaramouche feels like he took a shot of serotonin when he smells your skin, he is addicted, touching every exposed part of your body to his contentment. He also likes to bite, so you probably will be covered by marks of nibbles by the end of it.

And when he sobers up again he gets flustered easily, he can't believe he let instincts control over his body. He will hiss if you mention anything that he did during subspace. Nonetheless, he will eventually get into it again and the cycle will repeat itself.

☽ ☼ ☾

Scaramouche supposes things should turn out like they were before, that everything would come back to normal, he followed Nahida's advice, the instinct in his gut that begs to be with you, and yet, it seems worse than before. The omega may have had a strong reaction before and jumped into conclusions far from the truth, but he has also gotten used to silently pine for you, not expecting anything from it - maybe he can be and was aggressive towards other people that had your attention, but he won't mention it! -, for he can count the number of times in his long life that situations turned into his favor.

But Scaramouche reminded himself that he has to learn that your entire existence is too good to be true. You give him hope in many ways that he never imagined before. Your arms are stretched before him, holding a light blue and soft blanket.

“And for what reason would you give me that?” he stepped forward, picking the material from your hands.

“Can't you guess?” you chuckled and shook your head, the movement dispersed your scent that was reeking of amusement “If anything, see it as a gift to compensate the time we spend apart, to show how much I cherish you”

His eyes widen at the proclamation, under his nose he can smell that the blanket is scented. An item for a nest and carrying your smell, isn't that a sign of a courting gift? He couldn't help but hug the blanket tighter at the thought.

“Thank you for trying to look out for me”

For a long time he desired for a normal life, all his objectives from the past had the intention to lead to it, sadly all was for nothing, and he hopes he didn't look pitiful for that. And yet, in front of him, he saw an opportunity for that, he just needed to reach for you.

Once again, he gives himself the chance to dream of a better future.

[justmeinadaze]

Not Alone Part 3 (Eddie X You)

A/N: This Y/N is currently me and while out getting snacks I realized I needed to write this into existence. Maybe one day I'll meet a partner like this... If you're spending the holiday by yourself, know you aren't alone <3

Warnings: being alone for the holidays, mentions of grief, Eddie comforting

Word Count: 1056

Eddie Masterlist

Eddie heard it in your voice and saw it in your face when he talked about Christmas with his uncle.

“Yeah, he usually gets the day off so Wayne makes some burgers and we watch A Christmas Story.”

“Aw that sounds like fun!”, you grin as you take in how his face lights up. 

You loved seeing how animated he got when he talked about certain things but when it came to family sometimes his face would drop. He missed his mom and told you that his dad used to ruin the holidays most of the time by being drunk or absent all together. From what he told you, it sounded like Wayne was making up for lost time and new memories that couldn’t be made since his sister-in-law passed. 

“What do you guys do?”

“Oh, uh, my dad used to make a big show of Christmas and make a huge meal. Pull out all the stops.”, you giggle. “He loved giving us presents and seeing us smile.”

“Sounds about right from what you told me.”, he chuckles. “What about now? Do you guys carry on the traditions?”

“Um, yeah absolutely. My mom makes a turkey and we get to together to just talk and watch Christmas movies like you and your uncle.”

Your smile fell ever so slight as your eyes glazed over causing him to reach for your hand. 

“Well, after, if you want to come over and share a burger you absolutely can. You know you’re always welcome over here, sweetheart.”

“Oh, thank you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re never intruding, babe.”

After knocking on your apartment door, he waited, hoping for your sake he read the signs wrong but as the door slowly opened his heart broke. 

“Eddie? H-Hey, baby, what are you doing here?”

Your voice was gravelly telling him immediately you had been crying. 

“Come on.”, he murmured as his hand gestured absently out the door. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

“Sweetie, I can’t. I don’t want to bother you—” Before you could finish your sentence, he collected you in his arms and began heading towards his van. “Eddie, wait! I’m in my pajamas! I haven’t even done my hair.”

“You still look beautiful to me.”

***

“I can’t put my arms down!”, the little boy in the movie whines eliciting a loud cackle from Wayne as he sips from the beer can in his hand. 

“You know, Y/N, my mother, Eddie’s grandma, used to dress up me and Allen in all those layers like one gust of wind would freakin’ blow us away.”

“Pfft, thankfully my mom didn’t hate me that much.”, Eddie teased as his uncle tossed him a playful glare. 

You laugh as you curl up closer to the metalhead’s side and take a bite of the fry on your plate. 

“Ah commercial. I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette real quick.”, Wayne announced before rising to his feet and disappearing out the door. 

“How are you doing down there? You alright? Need a refill?”, Eddie asks as he cranes his neck to meet your gaze and his fingers brush your hair away from your face. 

“No, I’m alright.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss his lips. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem. You’re always welcome here, baby. You’re never a bother. I’m going to get that tattooed on you somewhere so you can look at it and always remember.”, he jokes as he pokes your side. 

After you pull back to fully sit up, he does the same knowing you’re about to tell him something you struggle to say. You always pulled away slightly when you felt like you were about to tell him something heavy. He thought maybe it was your physical way of protecting yourself. As if you were expecting him to explode by your news so you wanted to be able to run and be safe. 

Eddie did everything he could to make you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally safe but he understood that sometimes your mind won the internal battle over anything else. 

“I haven’t spent Christmas with my family in years. When my dad died… my family struggled to cope especially my mom. She’s strong willed you know? ‘I don’t need therapy. I’m fine. I can handle it.’ But…every holiday…it’s like she forgets about me. We don’t do anything.  I don’t even get a text or a phone call… Then of course my siblings have their own families with their own traditions and since my mom is in her own head she doesn’t scold them for not even calling either. 

For years, I called or invited myself over…forced the family to spend time together…but these past couple of years…I can’t do it. I want them to think of me first for once. God, that’s so selfish.”, you sigh as you hide behind your hands. 

“No, baby, no it’s not. Hey. Look at me.”, Eddie coos as he lightly pulls at your wrists and reaches out with his fingers to dry some of your tears that had fallen. “It’s not selfish. Like you said, you tried for so many years and it went unnoticed AND unreciprocated. You deserve to have someone put in the same effort you do and then some. Your dad always did, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” After moving your plates and drinks to the side, he collects you in his arms and holds you tightly to him, rocking you gently back and forth as he pets your head allowing you to cry in his embrace. “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re safe with me, babe.”

After a while, your tears stop as you both focus on the tv in front of you and he smiles when you laugh at the boy on the screen. 

“You know I did that once.”

“Eddie, no!”, you tease as you lightly smack his chest.

“Oh, of course. Put my tongue on the pole and it got stuck. No one had to dare me or nothing. I just did it.”

“Oh my god.”

The door slams shut as Wayne wipes his boots on the mat and grins when he sees you in his nephew’s arms before taking a seat back in his chair. 

 “Hey, Ed. Remember your junior year of high school when you stuck your tongue to the pole?”