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meangirls-imagines · 2 months

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Could I request a Leighton x reader one shot where Leighton just recently came out and is new to the whole lesbian flirting thing so she tries to find out if reader is gay with the help of questionable internet advice?

Gaydar Issues

Description: Leighton is new to the Essex queer community and unlike her confident persona, she has no idea how to flirt. She meets Reader and develops a crush on her. She should not have gone to her roommates for help.

WARNINGS: fluffy as fuck, leighton being a gay baby, her roommates being dumb, leighton gay panicking.

Okay.

In hindsight, Leighton knew she shouldn't have gone to her roommates for queer flirting advice.

She had no other options.

Let's recap.

Ever since Leighton came out, she had found it difficult to talk to women in person and not behind a screen. She was two different people.

One had a seductive aura, luring her hookups in with a single smirk and making them see stars by the end of the night.

The other was a shy, nervous girl who had no idea how to flirt.

Leighton was struggling. She had tried to talk to Nico about it but him being a guy, gave her flirting tips that he does, which were gross. She tried to talk to Willow about it but the girl was no help. She flirted with athletes, who she had something in common with.

That was it! Leighton just needed to find someone who had something in common with her! Easy peasy.

Plot twist: it's not so easy peasy.

Leighton had decided to scout out her math class to see if she had any hot female students in there with her. She had one, and she had already hooked up with her and didn't really feel anything with her.

It had gotten to a point where Leighton was starting to give up, but as she walked out of class, she saw the most gorgeous girl talking to Bela, of all people.

Leighton froze as she looked at the girl. She was stunning, the smile she was giving Bela was melting Leighton's heart. The girl had on some black skinny jeans, white converse, a white crop top and a jean jacket on.

Leighton could tell she had great fashion sense, even if the outfit was casual. She could hear her laugh from where she stood and it became her favorite sound in the world. Before she could go over and introduce herself, the girl hugged Bela and walked the other direction.

Bela began walking towards Leighton as the blonde fell in step behind her.

"Hey Bela! How are you today?"

Bela looked at Leighton confused but played along. "I'm...fine. Leighton, are you okay? You never ask about my day." The blonde smiled at her. "What are you talking about? I always ask about your day. I had a question."

Bela laughed, "There it is." Leighton rolled her eyes. "That girl you were talking to, who was she?"

Bela smirked. "That's Y/N. I'm trying to get her to join my comedy club. Girl is hilarious." Leighton nodded. "Yeah. Could you introduce me?"

Bela smiled. "Ooh does someone have a crush?" Leighton blushed hard. "Bela! Just because I'm a lesbian doesn't mean I have a crush on every girl!." Bela smirked again. "Yeah, yeah. I'll introduce you."

The next day, Leighton was walking across the campus courtyard when her name was yelled. She turned to see Bela and Y/N walking towards her. She instantly got nervous as the duo approached her. She straightened herself up and smiled at the two.

"Hey Bela!" The duo reached her as Bela held out an arm. "Y/N, this is Leighton. Leighton, this is Y/N, the newest member of my comedy club!" Y/N stuck her hand out for Leighton to shake. The blonde shook it, thinking about how soft her hands were before snapping back.

"Congrats! Bela was telling me how funny you are!" Y/N blushed. "Thank you! It's so nice to finally meet you! Bela has told me a lot about you, though she didn't mention how pretty you are."

Leighton's jaw dropped. A blush took over her features as she stuttered on her words. Y/N smirked and looked at Bela. "I'll see you later okay? Bye guys!" She walked off as Bela stared at Leighton shocked.

"Leighton. Are you blushing?" Leighton shook herself off and glared at Bela. "I am not!" She stomped off as Bela smirked. She pulled her phone out and texted Whitney and Kimberly.

"Leighton needs an intervention."

Leighton didn't know what to expect when she got back to her dorm, but it wasn't her roommates staring at her. It scared the shit out of her. "What the hell are you guys doing?" Kimberly gestured to the couch. "Please sit."

Leighton sat and looked at them confused. "What is happening?" Whitney sighed. "Leighton, it's come to our attention that you don't know how to talk to girls. We are here to help you."

Leighton's jaw dropped as she slowly turned to glare at Bela. "You told?!" Bela sighed. "I'm sorry! But you need help. Y/N is so into you!" Leighton glared at Bela. "Do you know if she's even gay?" Bela sat silently for a few seconds. "Uhh...no?"

Leighton pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

Whitney decided to save Bela. "She told us Y/N called you pretty! That's a sign, right?" Leighton directed her glare to Whitney now. "Girls call each other pretty all the time Whitney!"

Kimberly, ever the voice of reason, finally spoke. "Leighton, I think for now, talk to her, get to know her, and then maybe if she's comfortable, she'll tell you. But don't just outright ask her. So that way, if she isn't, you can remain friends."

The room was silent for a moment before Whitney and Bela voiced their disagreement of the plan and began to bicker about how Leighton should handle it.

Leighton was stuck on Kimberly's words. "Talk to her." "Get to know her"

That's what Leighton was going to do.

She spotted Y/N the next day walking out of the library and quickened her pace to catch up. "Y/N!" The girl turned and saw Leighton. A bright smile came across her face as she waved. "Hi Leighton! How are you?" Leighton fell into step with Y/N. "I'm good! I actually wanted to ask you something."

Y/N nodded. "Ask away." Leighton took a deep breath and asked the question. "Do you maybe wanna hang out, later? We can study together in the library. If you want!" Y/N blushed and nodded. "Yeah, sure! Can I get your number?"

Leighton felt her heart rate increase. She handed her phone over to Y/N, who put her number in quickly before handing it back. "Text me when you wanna meet up later." Leighton nodded before the girl smiled at the blonde and walked off.

Leighton fought the urge to do a happy dance.

Step one, done.

After a few weeks of hanging out with Y/N, Leighton discovered she was down badly for this girl. The more they hung out, the more Leighon's crush grew. Her roommates tried to hype her up to ask the girl out, but she didn't want to embarrass herself.

It all came to a head one day at lunch, the day that the roommates deemed, "their baby gay grew up".

Leighton was sitting at the table with her roommates eating lunch when Y/N approached. "Hey guys!" The girls greeted Y/N, not so subtly looking at Leighton, who blushed.

"Hi Leighton." The blonde smiled and quietly said hi back. Y/N cleared her throat. "If you weren't doing anything tonight, would you maybe wanna go to dinner and a movie tonight? I know this really good burger place a few miles from school."

Leighton blushed. Her brain was unable to function and she stuttered on her words once again.

Kimberly answered for her. "She would love to! She doesn't have any plans tonight!" Y/N smiled and looked at the girl. "Great! I'll pick you up at say 6:30? Dress casual." Leighton nodded as the girl walked off.

Her roommates squealed as the girl blushed harder. "We told you she was gay! You got a date!" Leighton smiled at how happy her girls were for her, joining in on the squealing, not noticing Y/N watching with a wide grin.

When Leighton came home later that night, hearts in her eyes and swollen lips, the roommates squealed again, sitting her down and making her give them the details.

Their baby gay really had grown up.

#leighton murray x reader #leighton murray imagine #leighton murray

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manicpixiefelix · 5 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 4.

Summary: While Oliver may struggle to fit into your group of friends as a whole, he seems to fit perfectly by you and Felix's sides. Farleigh grows more unhappy with this arrangement as the weeks go on, and finally Felix has enough of his attitude towards you, and you accidentally overhear. Upset at both Farleigh's attitude and how Felix had to fight with him on your behalf, Felix spends the rest of the night making sure you know just how much you're worth.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: drinking/intoxication, smut but somehow i managed to still write around the reader's AGAB??? still explicit tho (reader bottoming), and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 3825 words. it hasn't been even 24 hours since the last chapter. im making good time lol. i promise there will be a lot more oliver in the future (i already have part of chapter 5 that is VERY reader/oliver) but this is an especially Felix/Reader chapter. i know its kind of going slow, we're still only in the first bit of oxford, but it will pick up, i just like really getting into the character interactions. as always, this is unedited, and i'd love any feedback you may have!!

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife @jessicascharacterbananza @gossvedd

TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Oliver, by nature, does not appear to be an incredibly tactile individual. Getting shitfaced at your first proper meeting at the pub aside, and not counting the nights he joins you all at the club, he seems perfectly gentle and demure, always taking up as little space as possible, never really reaching out for another person unless they make the first move.

Except with you.

It's never overt, nothing about Oliver is ever overt, he's not throwing his arms around you every time he sees you like Felix, not tucking himself close to you as you all walk to the pub the way the girls of the group liked to do, nor is he leaning on you and treating you like furniture the way Farleigh liked to expression his familiarity. It was small, constant contact. Sitting too close in a booth, knees knocking under the table, shoulder checking you at the bar and staying that close as you both wait for your drinks, studying together in the library, sitting across from one another and his leg sticks out under the table, his ankle reaching yours.

For you it's normal, honestly it's a little toned-down from what you're used to, but there's always something in his eyes when he first makes contact, like he wants to memorise your reaction. Oliver is always memorising, always watching, always observing. There's something almost voyeuristic about his company in those quiet moments, but you're used to being watched, you're used to putting on a show, so you find yourself matching his energy, giving a coy smile when you meet his unreadable gaze. Underneath the table you'll press your ankle back against his, or knock your knee against his with purpose, or lean against his at the bar, acknowledge the contact, relish in it for the moment.

Felix, however, is the king of overt, and has never in his life waited for someone else to reach out for him. Every chance he has he'll pour his focus and attention onto Oliver. The more he learns about Oliver, the more insistent he seems to have him around, even if the rest of the friend group is less than enthusiastic. None of them would ever say as much to Felix, except of course Farleigh, but Felix grows ever more protective of Oliver, and Farleigh learns to keep his mouth shut in the end.

It takes you a long while to see the difference, actually it takes you a long while to realise there even was one. But there was. For all Oliver would orbit around Felix, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, he didn't touch Felix unless Felix touched him first. Call it reverence or respect, you just remember the way he'd shrunk away from Felix's bike when you'd first met him, how he'd shrunk away from your handshake after he'd dropped it, always weighing up every decision, never leaping without calculating the risks. He'd rather be touched than reach out and get rejected.

When you finally realise this, that feeling from the pub hits you again, sharp, bright, and intrigued. Everything's already warm and a bit fuzzy, the two of you sitting on Felix's bed, back to the wall, sharing a bottle of orange juice that's also half vodka, pregaming for a party and waiting for Felix to get out of the shower. If this were anyone else, chatter would be flowing brightly between you both, but you'd found early on that you settle into comfortable silence well beside Oliver. The CD player is playing that pop punk CD Annabel leant Felix last week, and Oliver is focused on playing with the rips in the knees of your jeans. He's always a little more bold, a little more tactile when he's drunk, he'll dance with you, will sit with an arm around you or on your knee, but its taken you until now to realise that you've never seen him really do that by his own choice with anyone else, even while drunk.

"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie~" you practically sing his name softly, affectionately, and when he hums in acknowledgement, looking up from your jeans, you lean your chin on your shoulder with a coy little smile, almost nose to nose with him.

"Sorry should I not be -?" He glances to your knee once more, but you snort a laugh and shift your leg to lay it out across both of his. You take another long swig of the juice, and feel his hand fidgeting once more against your knee.

"You make me feel all special, Ollie," you laughed, tipping your head against his, and he once again goes still, "I don't want to treat you like a horse but you do have to stop being so skittish," comes out without you even properly meaning it to, and suddenly Ollie's half spluttering through apologies and explainations.

"I can't- I can't help it, you just kind of say things that catch me off guard, I don't mean to -" this time his fidgeting has a more nervous energy, and you carefully put your hand on his to settle him.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," taking a deep breath, you try and organise your thoughts, "that was mean of me, I'm too used to people without much of a filter."

While Oliver is quiet, doesn't quite feel the need to speak, he does flip his hand around and lace his fingers with yours. Both of you look at your joined hands for a long moment.

"I like being next to you," you tell him with quiet sincerity, "and I like that you want to be next to me."

"Everyone wants to be next to you," Oliver says softly, and out of the corner of your eye you see him turn to look at you, "I just feel lucky that you keep saving space for me here." You give his hand a squeeze, terrified to meet his gaze, terrified of what you might see in the way he looks at you.

This moment overwhelms you, thrills you, makes your chest hurt in a way that's so unfamiliar. The idea of Oliver looking at you, seeing you for all you are outside of Felix's shadow, for wanting to be close despite that - you take another drink.

The shower turns off, and the two of you fall back into silence, sharing the drink as you hear Felix scuffle about the bathroom getting dressed. When he emerges only wearing jeans, towel drying his hair, you wolf whistle at him with the biggest grin just to see him blush. Lobbing the towel at you both, he leans across the bed to take the bottle of juice from Oliver, taking a few long chugs before passing it back.

For a moment, his eyes linger on your still-joined hands, and he smirks as he turns to his wardrobe.

"You two look cute."

"I'm stealing your new best friend," you announce with a shit-eating grin, bringing your joined hands up to your chest, and Felix throws an amused look at you over his shoulder as Oliver ducks his head, unable to his hide own abashed smile.

"Oh it's like that, is it? You'd let yourself be stolen so easily, Ollie?" Felix teased, pulling out a flattering button-down for himself to wear, turning back expectantly. Oliver flushes, looking back and forth for a long moment between yourself and Felix, who was slowly sauntering over to the bed. There's something in his eyes, that look he got when he was carefully evaluating what to say next without trying to look like he was thinking too hard, but it was gone once he settled on Felix.

"It's Y/N, can you really blame me?"

Oh, he's good. Something lights up in Felix's eyes as his gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, something adoring and amused in equal measure. Felix has always held a very high opinion of you, and just as you found joy in his happiness, so did he find joy in yours; he had never been shy about how he loved when others truly adored you, since he thought everyone should. Still, it wasn't something he tended to broadcast the way you wore your loyalty to him on your sleeve. Oliver was very good.

"I actually can't even argue with that," Felix's voice has a kind of softness to it that most people will never hear, but you know it, and there's something about how he's letting Oliver hear it to that warms your heart.

There moment breaks as the CD finishes and Felix starts hunting for his socks, declaring that he should be ready to go in only a few more minutes.

The change after that is less gradual. Of course you're still social and integrating yourself with the whole group, still playing your role in the group dynamic, offering affection and yourself without hesitation, just as Felix did too, but the two of you always make room for Oliver too. He's easing into it more, talking, laughing, reacting and seeming to live more outside of his head. Still, there's a divide in the group, there's something that makes the others hold back, something that means they can't quite understand the affection you and Felix have for the newcomer. Farleigh is a lost cause.

Farleigh can only seem to bring himself to be condescending and bitchy to you when he's sober, and outright won't speak to you while intoxicated.

"The fuck is your problem with Y/N?" You're pretty sure you weren't mean to hear Felix confront Farleigh by the bathroom of the club.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Farleigh snaps, but then you hear a scuffle and thud, and ducking your head quickly around the corner you see Felix holding Farleigh to the wall by his collar. There's a strange sensation in your gut at the sight, knowing his anger was on your behalf, but you didn't want to get caught, and pressed yourself back to the wall.

"My problem is with Oliver," Farleigh hisses, "you both know that, but you don't fucking care."

"Then treat me like dirt, not them."

"Nothing I could say would ever stop you from doing what you want, or who you want, cousin," you hear the sneer in Farleigh's voice, and feel your stomach sink, "but -"

"But what? You expected- expected what? Better from Y/N?"

Farleigh's silence speaks volumes. Once more you peak around the corner and see Felix shove himself away from Farleigh, who simply straightens his shirt, standing tall.

"The fuck do you want me to say?" Finally, Farleigh snaps, "congrats, Felix, you got your dog a dog, and now I can't look at either of you without that freak hanging around like a fruit fly."

"Fuck off," Felix sounds like he's about to be sick. Farleigh obligingly fucks off, and you have to take a long moment, head tipped back against the wall as you fight back tears in your heightened, intoxicated state. While you know you should leave, shouldn't be caught eavesdropping, you can't bring yourself to move fast enough, and Felix rounds the corner, walking almost directly into you.

"Y/N -!" He's clearly forcing a smile for the half second that it takes him to register that it's you, but then he sees your expression, the tears in your eyes, and his face falls, "you okay? What- what's-?" While you press your lips into a thin line, trying not to give anything away, he glances over his shoulders and he's quick to connect the dots, "you heard?"

"I'm sorry, Fi," your voice trembles, and immediately he's wrapping you up in a tight hug, "I don't like making Farleigh mad at you," you sniffle, clutching his sweater tightly.

"Farleigh's being an asshole, that's not on you," Felix's voice leaves no room for disagreement, but still he rubs circles into your back, "that's never your fault."

Its Felix who suggests the two of you head home for the night, but you're glad he knows you well enough to intuit that was what you'd wanted anyways. The two of you say your goodbyes for the night, putting on a happy face, thankfully obscured by the haze and neon lights and highs of your various friends. Farleigh seems to be avoiding you both, so it's only Oliver who seems to want to cling, just a little, as you say goodbye.

Somehow you know he's the only one who can see the truth of your mood in your eyes. He hugs a little longer than usual, still holding you tightly when Felix reminds him about lunch between the two of them the following day. Oliver nods before he steps back, but he doesn't entirely let go. For a moment he looks between you and Felix, you already reaching back for Felix, who takes a hold of your wrist, and then Oliver quickly takes your face and kisses your forehead quickly.

"Get back safe, alright?" He insists with a resolute nod. Both you and Felix manage a genuine smile at that, and finally head from the club.

At first, the walk back to the dorms is quiet; your own mood is low, but there's something about Felix that you don't realise until he starts to fume.

"Can you believe he'd talk about you like that?"

"What?"

"Farleigh; where the fuck does he get off talking like that? Fucking entitled." It's fury, radiating off of him in waves. His intensity surprises you, but your heart's not beating faster out of any kind of fear, "he should know better."

"Felix -"

"I don't care if he's my cousin, he -" and he stops dead, finally turning to look at you. In an instant, seeing the wide-eyed, almost awed love you were looking at him with, all his fury seemed to disappear. Still, there was intensity as he stepped up to you, wrapped one arm around your waist as he cupped your jaw, "he made you cry," the anger was faint but still audible, his thumb running gently over your cheek, where you had wiped the tears away not ten minutes ago, "I never want anyone to do that ever again."

Felix knows how to make you feel good, has had years of practice, but tonight he dedicates every ounce of focus he still has to that cause. It's been a long time since he's properly taken his time with you like this; there's been a lot of quickies, or drunk, sloppy sex when neither of you want to hook up with someone else, messy handjobs in janitor's closets between classes simply because you were bored and liked the thrill of it, or giving each other head in the bathroom of the club or pub when the other loses an arbitrary bet. But the way he worships you is something that only happens when he's feeling especially sappy.

When his mouth isn't on you - kissing, sucking, biting - he's lavishing you with praise until it almost becomes righteous, and his nails dig in and he's losing himself in you and babbling about how anyone who even got to fucking look at you should be grateful.

"Fi -" you gasp, hand coming up to muffle yourself as he's got you to the point of speechless. But he stops, cock deep inside of you, hips pressed flush to yours as you have your legs wrapped around his waist. You groan and whimper and try rolling your hips to create more friction, but his grin is wide as he leans down over you.

"Come on, no, don't do that," he practically purrs, taking your hand, pinning your wrist to the bed next to your head, pinning the other in just the same way so he was braced over you, "I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good." He starts to move again now, slow this time, while this new angle has your thighs splayed somehow further open, all new moans of pleasure escaping you now. Felix looks pleased, face close enough to yours that you're practically panting and moaning into his mouth as he delights at the way he's making you feel.

One of your favourite things about fucking Felix is that he is consistently Felix, which is that he very rarely shuts up, which is fantastic because you love hearing his voice. The praise and love he lays on you this night is interspersed with the way he always is during sex, chatty, always checking in, somehow making casual and curious sound like the hottest things in the world. Even when you're past the point of words and his head is between your thighs, he'll have two fingers inside of you and -

"This alright?" He knows the answer because he knows you, but you've always been endeared by it. Still, you make a breathy noise of confirmation, and you hear his voice drop to something low and firmer, "words, Y/N." God, fuck, the things that voice does to you when he uses it.

"Yes, oh god, Fi, it's good, it's good, it's good -"

You can feel his pleased chuckle as his mouth is back on your tender skin.

Dawn is breaking beyond his window, through the curtains neither of you had bothered to close all night, when you both finally concede, feeling thoroughly satisfied and spent.

"I know you don't like me getting into scraps on your behalf -" Felix, laying out on his back, easy smile on his face as he looks to you, begins.

"Or ever," you roll your eyes, but turn to lay on your side, facing him, unable to stop smiling yourself. Felix chuckles.

"Fine, sure, but," and he wets his lips, his gaze softening for a moment as his eyes meet yours, "I'm never going to sit by and let someone chat shit about you, you know that, right?"

After a long moment of deliberation, you finally admitted -

"I got a girl expelled because of how she was talking about you," you blurted out. Immediately Felix's eyes went wide. He shot up, sitting dead straight and looking back at you.

"You what?!"

"I don't get into scraps like you, but what she was saying was fucking vulgar, and I asked her to stop but she started making these awful, gross comments about how she was going to baby trap you and you'd be too stupid to know, and- and-" you flipped to lay on your back, fidgeting as you recounted the details. Felix was watching you, but you couldn't quite figure out what the look on his face meant, though perhaps he was simply processing it all, "and so I paid someone to plant a whole load of illegal shit in her room and called campus authorities."

Quiet suddenly filled the room, and slowly Felix looked away, choosing to simply stare at his hands.

"The only reason I don't like you getting into scraps is because I just don't want you to get hurt; it actually means so much to me that you care enough to defend me, you know? I'm not a hypocrite, I just worry about you," you tried to laugh, but it sounded lame in the quiet.

"You got a girl expelled for me," surprisingly, you can hear the grin in Felix's words. When he turns back with an incredulous laugh, relief floods through you. In an instant he's pitched himself practically on top of you, peppering your face, neck, and chest with kisses, "you're fucking diabolical, I'm so glad you're on my side!"

Eventually the two of you manage to get to sleep, though it's not nearly enough, as a knock comes at the door at around eleven. Both you and Felix groan, but he insists that you stay in bed.

"Be there in a sec," he calls to the door. After sourcing some boxers, he opens the door just a crack, and you can hear Farleigh on the other side.

"I was a dick."

"You were," Felix agrees.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said all that."

"No you shouldn't have."

"So are we good?"

"I don't know why you're apologising to me," you can hear the passive-aggressive lightness in Felix's tone, and Farleigh sounds confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Of course you know what I mean, Farleigh."

Then, a long sigh from Farleigh, and quietly, almost too quiet to hear it, you hear him ask if Felix knows where you are. You can almost picture the smug smile on your best friend's face as he steps aside and opens the door wide enough to reveal you, in his bed, still mostly asleep.

"Morning..." Farleigh says awkwardly.

"Morning, Farleigh," you yawned loudly.

"I..." he started, looking deeply uncomfortable; Felix had to prompt him to continue, "am sorry for treating you like shit these past few weeks. I don't like Oliver, that's," he sighed, unable to look you in the eyes, "not your fault."

"It's not my fault but you're making it my problem," you tell him bluntly, to which he scowls, "I love you, I have loved you for years, I do not love you less because of Oliver; your jealousy is childish."

"Fine," Farleigh rolls his eyes, "I'll temper my urge to vomit at the sight of him and his poor attempts to fit in whenever you're around- either of you are around."

"We appreciate the sacrifice," Felix rolls his eyes, sarcasm all but dripping from his words. Still, you accept the apology and tension between the three of you seem to ease as the conversation comes to an end. Felix throws himself back down on the bed with a grunt, half laying on you.

"What time is it?" He voice is muffled against the mattress, so you glance at his alarm clock.

"Eleven fifteen."

Another groan from Felix, but he still doesn't move. Slowly, he crawls to a more dignified position, and back under the covers beside you. He wraps am arm around you, pulling you in close so your back was flush against him, his breath warm on the back of your neck.

"Fifteen minutes and I'll leap out of bed with enthusiasm," he says in the absolutely least convincing manner, tucking himself as close to you as possible, "I got lunch with Ollie at the pub."

"That should be nice," you yawn, and rest your hand on his where it's warm against your bare stomach.

"Gotta have a shower, get dressed, figure out if I'm biking or walking," he's mumbling mostly to himself, voice drifting off.

"I'd join your shower but I plan to sleep here until Monday."

"I'll probably join you when I get back."

It's a comforting thought, and you let out a contented hum, before finally adding before you drift off.

"Give Ollie my love when you see him, won't you?" And as your asking, Felix presses a kiss to your shoulder.

"Of course."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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loosescrewslefty · 2 years

Text

I feel like some people within this fandom have forgotten this fact, so this is a super friendly reminder that Hunter has higher-than-average observation skills, especially with other people.

He is able to make quick and accurate assessments of Luz and Amity's personalities in Hunting Palismen and Eclipse Lake, despite both episodes being the first time he spends any significant amount of time with either of them (Because threatening Luz for two minutes in Separate Tides doesn't really count as a meaningful conversation)

Hunter is powerless, with a weapon pointed at his face, and is still able to maintain his composure and clearly and confidently lay out the fact that he knows Luz is bluffing here.

Likewise, he's able to quickly get a read on Amity in Eclipse Lake, and relate her insecurities about her relationship with Luz to his own struggles with his Uncle in order to gain Amity's sympathy and trust while also being the one who was most knowledgeable about their surroundings and keeping them alive, in spite of Eda and King's antics.

This continues into the end of the episode. Even when he's in the middle of a mental breakdown, Hunter is STILL able to keep his observation skills sharp and realize that; 1.) He has come into this fight already pretty spent after fighting off the other Coven Scouts 2.) He's using a new weapon he isn't used to yet, which differs enough from his former staff to throw him off 3.) Amity has allies in the form of King (who kept jumping in and making the fight more difficult for him) and Eda (who he knows is probably on her way) 4.) Amity's not a slouch, so all of these disadvantages will probably NOT work in his favor if he keeps trying what he's doing and doesn't change tactics.

The fact that he's got her at a stalemate is already pretty impressive, given the fact that the fight is heavily weighted in Amity's favor here. But, rather than continue combat, Hunter goes for what he knows to be Amity's weakness in order to secure what he needs, and reminds her that if she keeps the key, Luz WILL be in danger.

Then we have my personal favorite example of this, where we watch Hunter look at Willow and go from "Wow, she's awesome (neutral)" to "Wow. She's awesome (affectionate)"

Right off the bat, Hunter clocks Willow's talents. Her strengths with both magic and her physical skills, as well as her courage. But then she does something no one else ever did before.

She proves that his skills of observation, which he is obviously VERY proud of, are not infallible.

Hunter wrote off the rest of the Emerald Entrails as lost causes when he first laid eyes on them and nearly walked away from what ended up being one of the best things to ever happen to him, but Willow stopped him and proved his first impressions of the others to be wrong.

I feel like people underestimate just how much this exchange impacted Hunter, in many different ways. THIS was the turning point that made him take notice of Willow as more than just a potential Emperor's Coven scout. Here, she proved herself not only to be a capable leader, but even better then HIM at observing and assessing the talents of others. With Luz and Amity, Hunter was able to observe them in about the same amount of time, assess them accurately, and apply what he observes to get the outcome HE wants. But with Willow, right from the second he meets her, he's caught off guard, and swept up in HER energy. She's constantly surprising him, and effortlessly has him marching to the beat of her drum.

And even after he insulted her team and tried to blow them off, she gave him a second chance. Second chances are NEVER offered in the Emperor's Coven. There, failure is final. Which is probably a big reason why upsetting Willow impacted Hunter as much as it did.

And even at the end of the episode, Willow is still surprising Hunter. It's clear as day he didn't expect her to give him another chance, after he tried to have them indoctrinated into the Coven. He thought there was no coming back from that. He wasn't doing it to be forgiven. He was doing it because he cared about the team, realized he made a mistake, and wanted to save them from that mistake before it was too late to do so. Even though he obviously thought that Willow would never want anything to do with him ever again. But, just like before, Willow proved that he thought wrong.

So yeah, Hunter is NOT the naive, sheltered, inexperienced abuse victim that's completely ignorant of how to interact with others that some people like to portray him as. Not only does Hunter possess the power of observation and the ability to quickly assess someone's strengths, weaknesses, goals, and capabilities, but he's used to being quick and accurate in doing so even in extreme situations, and takes a great deal of pride in this ability. And he is NOT walking into his crush on Willow blind. He's been observing her, and his respect and affection for her has grown with every new side of her that he sees.

#the owl house #toh #toh Hunter #Willow Park #huntlow #character assessment #character analysis #slight fandom callout but a gentle one #please help I am CONSUMED.

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gethelpplease · 6 months

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All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love)

Ellie x Reader

tags: fluff, stargazing, loser Ellie, cursing, best friends to lovers, one-shot, Loser!Ellie, Jackson!Ellie

synopsis: You and Ellie have been friends since she first came to Jackson. The moment you saw her, you knew she was special. Years later you suddenly realize you're in love with her. One day while stargazing, everything changes between the two of you.

Or: A fluffy fic with a cute little forehead kiss at the end.

word count: 4.7k

AN: I might make a second part with angst. I'm not sure I just rlly wanna write Ellie angst but we'll see if I ever get the time to. School is taking over my life. Anyway, I posted this on ao3 too: All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love) by siriusly_not_moony

Enjoy! <3

The view of the stars in Jackson was the best thing anyone could ever see. Ever since the outbreak, there hasn’t been much light pollution outside of QZs. Meaning,1 there’s a good view almost anywhere else. This makes the view of the stars pretty clear, but Jackson has something everywhere else doesn’t have. Ellie Williams. Stargazing with her isn’t just “stargazing.”

Ellie first got to Jackson when she was fourteen, you remember very clearly. Seeing her for the first time quite literally knocked the breath out of you. You’d been in Jackson for a while before her, still adjusting to the new environment. Tommy had finally given into your pestering to improve your defense skills for patrol at 14. Maria never let you go of course, she said you needed more practice and maybe when you turned 16, she would let you. Once she let up, going on patrols with Tommy, Joel, and Ellie, made the pair of you closer. Your connection with Tommy is how you got to meet Ellie. Without him, you probably would have never approached her. He kept insisting you should talk to her, “She’s only a few weeks apart from you, Joel says she’s a good kid. Just talk to her.” “Kid, you need friends, just say hi.” “You know, Joel says she likes comics. Just like you.”

Meeting Ellie was confusing to describe it at best. She was kind, but very curt with all her responses. You almost felt as if she didn’t really care to get to know you. As for you, she was all you thought about since you first saw her.

Joel and Tommy were talking as the three of them walked down to the stables. You watched quietly as they got closer. Ellie stayed close to Joel, but a bit behind silently looking down, looking anywhere but the pair of brothers. It was obvious she felt a bit out of place. You honestly felt bad for her. She must not know anyone in Jackson yet, the only people she knows are grown adults.

They stopped near the open doors of the stables; you were in the first stall brushing Willow’s mane. She was your neighbor’s horse, but she liked you a lot for some reason.

You leaned against the stall door, “Hi.”

Ellie took a few seconds to turn around and see you, a straight look on her face, but her eyes. She has sad eyes. Beautiful, sad, green eyes. The eyes you want to stare at forever, to draw hundreds of times until it’s perfect. The eyes that put you in a trance when you see them up close. And those freckles.

Regret started to fill your stomach, but you pushed it back. You’re doing this for her, so she has a friend. Not because she’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. Her eyes were so mesmerizing. You’ve never seen eyes so hypnotizing. And they were looking at yours now. “Hi?”

“Oh,” You introduce yourself completely forgetting how social interactions go for a moment. “I—uh Tommy mentioned you’re about my age, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ve only been in Jackson for about a year, so I know what it’s like to be new to it all. But, um, if you want a look around, I can show you?”

“Uh,” She looked back at Tommy and Joel. They were definitely into whatever it was they were talking about. You could see Ellie’s internal debate deciding if she should or shouldn’t accept your offer. “Sure.”

“Cool! I’m kind of still learning new things about this place every day. It’s kind of awesome how a place like this is growing and flourishing. It gives me hope you know?”

“Yeah.”

“So, where are you from?”

“Boston QZ.”

“Oh.” She seemed distracted. Or uninterested, who could tell? “So, what brought you here?”

She sighs, “It’s a long story. I came here with Joel. He was looking for Tommy. He found him now so…that’s that.”

You didn’t want to ask about that yet, it seemed a bit too sensitive for a first conversation. “This is the community garden. Some people grow their own stuff in their own yards for easy access, but this is the main source. We all help out here.”

You showed her around the most important parts of town. You found out she’s staying around the corner, just a minute's walk away. She cracked a smile once when you mentioned that almost everyone you knew would rather run into infected than listen to Seth drunkenly rant about his philosophical discoveries that make zero sense. You walked her back to her place after roughly less than an hour. You gave her directions to your place and said goodbye with a smile. The one you got in return made you weak to your knees.

After that first interaction, you didn’t speak for a couple of days before you saw her at the diner for breakfast. After that, you got breakfast together every day, which led to hanging out together. After a couple weeks of talking, you actually felt a really strong connection to her. She was your first real friend, and it was the best thing ever.

A couple years later, once Maria let you out on patrol, you convinced her to let you go with Ellie. And Joel and Tommy of course. She wouldn’t trust just the two of you alone. At this point, you spent most of your days with her. You got to know Joel too. You got to know just how sassy that man was despite his tough exterior. He was definitely Tommy’s brother.

Now, it was safe to say Ellie was your best friend. You two also made friends with Dina, Jesse, Cat, Riah, and Travis. You were also acquainted with a few others who you met through Dina. Meeting Dina really brought you out of your shell, and you can thank her for it. She’s the reason why you allowed yourself to become friends with other people. Dina was both yours and Ellie’s closest friend, besides each other. That’s why you came to Dina when you realized you were completely in love with Ellie. You knew you had a crush on her when the two of you had just started talking, but you were convinced it would go away. You pushed it back and kind of thought it did go away, but years later you now know that’s not the case. One day it just dawned on you that you were in love with her. One random, normal day.

You and Ellie were lying about on her bed. You found a bottle of alcohol on patrol and obviously brought it back. You two were drinking out of it just until you felt a buzz, not trying to get too drunk. Because of this, you two reached a somewhat dizzy and sleepy state. She was practicing a familiar tune on the guitar while you were sketching exactly what you saw. You both bonded over drawing, she was definitely better than you. She was always getting so much better so quickly. It was amazing. You were drawing the freckles on her face and that one distinct freckle on the top of her left cheek when you just started staring freely at her. She was distracted and you took the opportunity to just take in all of her features. In doing so, you got a dangerously strong feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You felt it first, and then a few beats later you realized what that meant. Your breath was suddenly gone.

Shit.

You sat up clenching your jaw trying to think straight for just one moment.

I’m in love with Ellie Fucking Williams…

In love. Love. God, this isn’t going to go away.

That night you slept beside her which was kind of a normal thing for the two of you. She slept soundly from what you could hear, but you stayed up for hours nervous and jittery. You only got a few hours of consistent sleep.

When you finally got the chance to tell Dina, she already knew of course. You told her about your “big realization,” but she said it was incredibly obvious from the very beginning. She even thought you and Ellie were dating before you two became friends with her.

She helped you come up with an outline on what to tell Ellie. It really shouldn’t be that difficult to talk about your feelings, but this is Ellie. Your best friend who you know is a bit emotionally constipated. You feel like even if there was a chance that she liked you back, she would never grant herself the ability to do anything about it. For someone so deserving, she never let herself be truly happy.

“You got this.” Dina grinned your way as she walked you to the door.

You spun quickly back towards her ready to go back to her bed and just talk to her instead of Ellie.

Dina grabbed your shoulders and turned you back to the door, literally kicking you out. “Nope. You’re doing this today. Trust me, it’ll work out.”

“No Dina, I really don’t think I can. If she turns me down, I will actually hide away forever. I’ll go throw myself into a horde of infected and it’ll be your fault.”

She lets out a long sigh and gives you a knowing look as you stand outside her door, “If you never do it you could be missing out on something really beautiful. At least try? You both deserve to be happy.”

You groan loudly. You agree with her of course, if the roles were reversed you would probably tell Dina the same thing. “Okay. I’ll do it, just give me a few days to prepare. I’ll talk to her sometime this week. I want to.”

“Yes you will.”

“Thank you Dina. I probably would have rotted in self-doubt without you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Bye Hun.” She gives you a small finger wave as you walk away.

After that conversation with Dina, you tried to keep your feelings for Ellie behind a curtain. The last thing you would want is to make things weird between you and her. You also noticed that knowing how you felt and continuing your friendship as normal was pretty tiring. You had to constantly think about every choice you made and every word you said. In a perfect world, you told her the moment you knew and she told you she liked you back. Too bad. This isn’t that world. Ellie is hard to read. Yeah, she smiles at you a lot, will stare at you when she thinks you don’t notice, and she’ll hold you or play with your hair when you guys watch movies. That’s being friendly. You kinda do some of those things with Dina? Despite your internal emotional battle, you told Dina you would tell Ellie. You’re not doing this for Dina though, you’re doing this for yourself. Going on pretending you’re not completely in love with Ellie would be too much.

It was a couple days later when got to spend the entire day with Ellie. Those days came rarely now. You love spending time with Ellie, so it wasn’t exactly a problem, but you definitely needed some time alone at the end of it all. You were laying down in an empty field behind one of the small playgrounds. The grass was a bit taller and uncomfortably itchy, so you had a sheet under you and your mini telescope lens Maria gave you for your 16th birthday. This was your spot to look at the stars at night. Ellie would usually go with you since she loves space too, but you didn’t tell her you were here this time. Because of that, you didn’t expect to hear footsteps approaching. Much less Ellie’s footsteps.

You sit up to look behind you, “What’re you doing here?”

“Tommy told me where you were.”

“I thought you were going to sleep earlier tonight since you have morning patrol.”

“Yeah, but…I dunno, I changed my mind.” She sat beside you partly on the grass. You knew she wouldn’t really be bothered by the grass since she’s wearing pants and a long sleeve, but you scooted over to make a bit more room for her. You patted the spot next to you and she took the offer and smiled, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were kinda spacey today. You know? I feel like you zoned out a lot.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You stare back up at the sky hoping she isn’t thinking too much into your behavior. “I’ve just been tired.”

“Yet you’re out watching the stars in the middle of the night.”

You chuckled, “Whatever.”

You let out a big sigh. A few moments of silence fall over you two, but it’s comfortable.

You lay back down on your sheet to get a good look at a small bunch of stars that look like one of the constellations you read about. You turn your head a bit to the right, and you are finally able to connect the stars and make out the figure you’ve been trying to find for a few nights. Ellie’s still sitting up, watching you observe the stars. You look at her and she takes a few seconds to notice. She had a soft smile on her face that was so beautiful it haunted you. When she notices you’re shift of attention she darts her eyes around before finally settling back on you, accompanied with a confused look.

“I found it!”

“Found it?”

“The constellation we were looking for the other night. I found it. C’mere.”

She lays down by you, her shoulder touching yours. “Where?”

“Here!” You point to a spot in the sky, but it doesn’t seem very effective. You lean over, your face so close to Ellie’s, looking at the sky. Your eyes are trying their hardest to stay focused on the sky despite the fact that Ellie’s eyes are like magnets. You’re trying to see the stars from her perspective to give her a better idea of where the bunch of stars are. “There.” You say quietly due to your proximity.

When she notices your eyes on the sky her eyes follow, hoping you didn’t see where her eyes were originally. She looks back at you and her eyes dart to your lips before looking back and forth between your left and right eyes. She slightly licks her lips causing you to look at them. It becomes too much so you lay back down in your original spot.

You take a few seconds to regain your calm, releasing a soft sigh. “Um, this was the dog constellation I was telling you about.” You had a moment. You definitely had a moment.

“The one with that super bright star? Sirion? No, wait, Sirius?”

“Yeah, Sirius. Did you learn that from the constellation book I gave you?”

“Obviously…Have you read the space mysteries book I gave you?”

“I’ll have you know that I have read some of it, actually.”

“You haven’t.” She said with a deadpan face.

“No, I really have,” you say giggling, “I swear!”

“I can never tell when you’re being sarcastic.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a gruff breath as she turns her head the other way.

You two lay in silence for a few minutes enjoying the quiet ambience. In Jackson, most settle down around 10:30 p.m. The only noise you hear now is the wind causing leaves to rustle against each other, a few crickets, and the soft background of cicadas.

“I have a question.” Ellie says randomly.

“What?” You respond still laying down on your back, eyes darting between Ellie and the sky. One reason why you love the stars and constellations so much might, or might not, be because of how they remind you of Ellie’s freckles. It just makes so much sense. She has the bigger more prominent freckles under her left eye and above her left eyebrow kind of like how there are brighter stars in constellations. You smile to yourself just thinking about it.

“Okay,” she says moving to lay down on her side with her head propped up on her fist, “you said that you immediately liked me when you first saw me, but what did you mean? Because I was really thinking about it the other day and I remember kind of being a jerk when we first met.”

Thinking about that makes you chuckle. She wasn’t that much of a jerk she just acted as most teens do when they see someone their age. The weird critical glances and kind of guarded attitude. “I don’t know. You—I mean… you weren’t a jerk from what I remember. Maybe I just ignored it. But, you did seem shy like you were afraid to make friends and I think that made me want to be friends with you more. And I liked you when I instantly saw you because you… I don’t know I just immediately knew I had to talk to you. I didn’t have any real friends at that point in my life, but I thought maybe it could be you.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up. I don’t mean to be cheesy but I just got a feeling I guess.”

“No, no, it’s cute.”

“Yeah whatever… What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you’re first impression of me. Just that you’re glad that I talked to you.”

“I mean there’s not much to say. You said it all.”

“Uh, yeah. I said my side. Now I wanna know your side.” You poke her shoulder with your finger to make your point.

“Ok… fine,” She pauses for a second gathering her thoughts, “I remember seeing you kinda linger around when I first rode in with Joel. I didn’t want to look your way ‘cause I knew you were looking at me. I definitely knew you were weird.” You shove her shoulder, a wide smile plastered on your face. “I didn’t really expect to make friends actually. You already know I’ve only ever had one real friend my age, so when you came up to me, I thought I should try. I remember that talk very clearly actually. You gave me a tour and a rundown on how the social life is here. We talked a bit about our interests, and I found out you liked comics too, so I think that did it for me.”

“Aw, it wasn’t my great jokes?”

She shouts, “Ha!” Obviously making fun of you.

“Your puns are just as bad so you better keep your mouth shut.”

“My puns are amazing. You know you love them. You’ve told me before.”

“Mmm, no. Must have me confused for someone else.”

She smiles and nods her head, a sweet look on her face you wish you could take a photo of.

“The moon looks so nice right now.” She says as she stares in awe at the full moon overhead. She then reaches over you to grab the mini telescope lens. When she grabs it, it rolls off a bit causing her to lose her balance and slip. She catches herself before she slams into you, just hovering over you with her hand on the side of your head and the other half-folded on your other side providing her with support.

Your instant reaction was to grab her, so your hand is hovering over her waist, “You okay?”

“Yeah, my bad.” She still hasn’t moved, staring at your eyes, then looking around your entire face.

Your heart is beating too fast and too strong. You feel the need to breathe faster, but you can’t make it too obvious. You’re staring at her lips just waiting for her to do something because you don’t have the will to make the first move. Then you see her lips form into a smirk, so you look back up at her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says letting out a breathy laugh.

“No, what?” You say, turning red. Was she laughing at the way you looked at her lips?

“Just… you.” She’s still chuckling.

“What about me?” Your eyebrows scrunch up, an almost pouted look on your face. You feel very left out of whatever is making Ellie so entertained.

“I don’t know,” she is still laughing. “You just make me smile.”

“Ha ha. Fuck you too.” You reply out of defense feeling like she’s teasing you.

You’re partly confused because of this sudden mood change from Ellie. She’s cute when she’s giggly, but she usually only gets that way when she has a bit of alcohol in her system or when she’s taken a couple hits too many. You smile, brows still scrunched, but her comment makes you blush. You turn away from her thinking, What the fuck was that?

You turn back to face her, but she’s still smiling at you, still hovering over you. Your hand is gone from her waist and now it’s on the floor, feeling like it’s glued down. Your entire body feels frozen as if gravity has doubled in force, trying to staple you to the ground.

She stopped laughing so there’s a moment of pure silence between the two of you. That’s when it feels too real, the energy around the two of you changes completely. Her smile slowly falls and she’s staring at your lips, then looks into your eyes with permission. You could be imagining it, but that thought depleted from your brain when Ellie finally leans in. She lowers her head, only a centimeter from yours for one second almost second-guessing herself. Butterflies flood your stomach and then your entire body as you take in what is happening. You both end up moving your heads at the same time and it’s the best thing in the world. Her lips touch yours so gently, lingering there for a bit. You try to process the moment, but you can only focus on Ellie.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

You move your lips against hers slowly. It’s a closed-mouth kiss that lasts a few long seconds. She pulls away, eyes closed, still so close, and she sighs shakily. You’re still looking at her in pure shock and admiration because this is it. This is what you were so scared of and it’s all you ever wanted, except you didn’t have to make the first move. She did.

Ellie repositions herself so she’s not relying on only her arms for support. She kneels down, one of your legs between the two of hers and then she lowers herself back on top of you, one hand on your neck and the other beside your head.

This time, you lean in to kiss her first and it’s different. You know what it’s like and you want more. She holds your head closer, pushing you into her as much as she can. One of your hands find the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair. The other hand is under her shirt on her waist, moving back and forth occasionally to her lower back. She slightly moans into your mouth at the sensation. It’s not freezing outside, but your fingers hold a slight chill against her warm back. You’re thinking you could just live in this moment forever, but then things get better and your mind starts racing.

More.

Ellie’s the one to deepen the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth first. Then, to top it all off, she grabs your leg, pulling it down to get you closer to her. She doesn’t move her hand, keeping it on your leg stroking up and down slowly occasionally squeezing your thighs. You use that leg to feel closer to her, wrapping it around her. She pulls away for a second and you think it’s over, but she takes a deep breath and starts leaving feathery kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fall shut. It’s a struggle to stay calm when you feel her lips on your skin, her hand on your neck, fingers in your hair, and her other hand stroking your thigh.

“Ellie.” You barely croak the word out, not wanting her to stop. “Ellie,” you say a bit louder now, still a whisper “Ellie.” The last time you say her name, it comes out as a giggle. Her lips brushed against a sensitive spot on your neck.

She looks up looking dazed, “Yeah?” she whispers back.

You grab her face to pull her closer and kiss her briefly, her eyes still closed for a few seconds after you pull away and a smile forming on her face. Meanwhile, you’re grinning like a fool. You push her off of you playfully as you laugh, “We have to get back. We need some sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” She sighs staring up at the sky.

“Okay.” You sigh, “Five minutes.”

You both lay in each other’s company for those five minutes, silently processing what just happened.

“Okay five minutes are up, it’s pretty late.” You say, grunting as you push yourself up and begin to gather your things.

Ellie’s still laying down. You both know you should go home and sleep, but you don’t want to leave this moment just yet.

You sigh and kick her leg. “Get up.” You say reaching your hand out.

“Damn, okay.” She takes the invitation pulling herself up.

The two of you begin to walk towards the road where you live not knowing whose house you’re exactly going to. Ellie’s place comes up first and as you slow down to say bye, she doesn’t stop.

“Let me drop you off.” She insists turning to face you.

“Drop me off? Ellie, we’re already at your place, I’ll be fine walking down the street alone.” You say in disbelief.

“Come on,” she says grabbing your hand as she drags you down the street towards your place.

“Uh-” you utter in surprise. What is this girl on?

You walk for a couple minutes looking over at Ellie, she looks lost in thought as she unconsciously swings your hands.

“I’m grabbing breakfast extra early in the morning with Joel, he wants to give me woodworking lessons again.” She looks away, “He’s—he’s trying.”

“That’s good though…I don’t really know exactly what happened between the two of you, but I know he cares about you so much and from how you talked about him Ellie, I know you care about him just as strongly. I want you to be happy, and if this is how, then that’s good.”

She looks at you thoughtfully, then looks down. “Yeah.” A slight pause, “Thanks.”

“You’re going to do that before patrol?”

“Yeah.”

“’Kay. Do you wanna come over later? I was just going to help out in the stables for a bit after then kinda chill for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good.” A smile back on her face. She turns to walk you up to your door, “See you tomorrow—or later I guess.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.” You smile softly at her, releasing your joined hands. You want to tell her just how much you’re going to remember tonight and how much you like her, but not yet. Not yet.

While you’re thinking, she leans in to brush a soft kiss on your forehead, catching you off guard. She doesn’t let it linger too long, but just long enough for you to still feel a tingle in her lips’ absence. “Night.” She whispers against your forehead. She turns and walks back down the road, just like that. Meanwhile, you’re watching her go in disbelief at how much happened in one night. This is going to change a lot.

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handdrawnverathin · 23 days

Text

Hi. So, uh... it's been a while. And after all this time, I think it's time to be honest with myself and admit that this animatic is probably never going to be finished. I started it when I'd only watched a couple POVs of Third Life and it really shows in the designs. Some of them aren't bad - I still like how I drew Tango - but enough of them have details wrong or just weird vibes that continuing to draw them is kinda dissatisfying. That being said, I put a lot of work into it and didn't want to let it just die without saying anything, so here's a collection of GIFs from the few scenes I managed to get edited.

For the record, I am still on the Hermitcraft/Life Series brainrot train and I have some drawings that I've been working on that I genuinely like. So hopefully those will be done soon! Just as soon as I finish that one project that I started eight years ago. But it's getting there! I swear!

Also: for anyone interested, I've included the original frame-by-frame plan below the cut

SONG: Willow Tree March, The Paper Kites

Intro

Feet swinging over sandstone cliff face (0:00 - 0:05)

Lower half of Grian’s face visible, whistling (0:05 - 0:12)

The cool bit

Fade to front face view of Grian, looking up slightly (0:12 - 0:16)

Real quick zoom out to all players standing in a row looking dramatic (0:16 - 0:28)

Title card fades in as overlay (0:20 - 0:28)

Player introductions

(0:28 - 0:30)

(0:30 - 0:32)

(0:32 - 0:34)

(0:34 - 0:36)

Peaceful times

Grian walking through a forest, early morning. First frame is a footstep, then a side view of him looking around (0:36 - 0:44)

Flower Husbands meeting, afternoon. First frame is Scott peaking into the hole from outside, then Jimmy looking up at him sheepishly (0:44 - 0:52)

Renchanting looking up at the sky, sunset. First frame is a hand raised to block the sun, then a rear-view shot of them from the waist up (0:52 - 1:00)

Phantom shelter, night. First frame is a wide view of the group either hiding or fending off phantoms, then a close up of a few of them laughing with each other(1:00 - 1:08)

FIRST DEATH

Wide shot of Scar burning the tree (1:08 - 1:12)

Close-up of Grian’s face as he looks to the side. Creeper visible in the reflection of his eyes. (1:12 - 1:16)

Scar doing some smooth talking. A wisp of smoke fades in behind him.(1:16 - 1:20)

Close up of Scar’s face turning around, eyes widening (1:20 - 1:22)

Yellow heart (1:22 - 1:26)

The promise

Wide shot of Monopoly Mountain, cut to close-up of Grian swearing loyalty with a hand over his heart (1:26 - 1:34)

Close-up of Grian’s face, mostly the eyes, looking a little unhappy with the whole situation (1:34 - 1:42)

Tensions rising

Skizz looks at an enderman: over-the-shoulder shot of him looking back, then a close up on his eyes widening (1:42 - 1:50)

Cleo threatening Pizza - animated? Initial/final poses plus two in-betweens (1:50 - 1:58)

Tango’s lava game: first a close up of his smiling face, then a wide shot with his arms outstretched in front of the challenge (1:58 - 2:06)

Scar threatening Ren for the enchanter: first an over-the-shoulder shot of Scar, then one of Ren (2:06 - 2:14)

Uh-oh

Wide shot of ceremony (2:14 - 2:18)

Ren, kneeling, waist down and cloak on (2:18 - 2:22)

Low-angle shot of Martyn looking very uncomfortable. Winces a bit, axe raised and… (2:22 - 2:28)

Swings down. We get a flash of Ren's face, grinning, before fading out. The red eyes linger just a bit longer. (2:28 - 2:32)

O_o

Flower wall burns down (2:32 - 2:40)

Rear view wide shot in silhouette

Front view, sad and also a little horrified

Desert battle (2:40 - 2:48)

Profile view of Grian with a slightly manic smile on his face as explosions go off. The camera is pretty close to him, so we can’t actually see the explosions, but add in some effects and it’ll get the point across

Siege of Dogwarts (2:48 - 2:56)

Aerial attack using slowfall arrows

Ground combat feat. Joel and dogs

Bdubs kills Impulse, Scar kills Bdubs (2:56 - 3:04)

Interlude

Scar (right) kneeling in the water before Grian (left). We can see Scar from about chest down and only the lower half of Grian’s legs (3:04 - 3:12)

Low-angle shot of Grian looking down at Scar holding a sword. We can see Scar’s head and maybe a bit of his back depending on camera angles. (3:12 - 3:20)

Fade to the Tree in a dark void, glowing as if by firelight. Very slow pan out. Fade to a wider view before the light is extinguished, leaving us in darkness. (3:20 - 3:28)

Ghosties (dark gray background, white outlines)

Jimmy/Cleo/Skizz (3:28 - 3:32)

Joel/Scott/Etho (3:32 - 3:36)

Tango/Ren/Martyn (3:36 - 3:40)

Impulse/BigB/Bdubs (3:40 - 3:44)

They want blood (survivors haunted by ghosts)

Grian, with chestplate and sword, looking very much like he’d rather be anywhere else(3:44 - 3:48)

Scar, also not having a good time, sword and shield but no chestplate (3:48 - 3:52)

Facing each other, no weapons or armor. Scar of left, Grian on right (3:52 - 3:56)

Close up side view of Grian’s face: scared, then steeling himself (eyes closed) then shouting as he runs in (3:58 - 4:02)

The girls are fighting! ;A;

(4:02 - 4:10)

(4:10 - 4:18)

(4:18 - 4:26)

We have a winner

Full body behind shot of Grian standing at the edge of the cliff before falling (4:26 - 4:36)

#Gonna tag all of them so get ready #3rd life #grian #goodtimeswithscar #smajor1995 #solidaritygaming #inthelittlewood #renthedog #bdoubleo100 #zombiecleo #ethoslab #tangotek #smallishbeans #impulsesv #skizzleman #bigbstatz #fanart #wtm animatic

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cupid-styles · 9 months

Text

sunshine girl*

Harry and Daisy decide to go steady, but not everyone is supportive and Daisy's insecurities are starting to get the best of her.

70s!harry and virgin!fmc | Content warnings: outdated views on virginity and the LGBTQ+ community, pubic hair talk (if it's not your thing that's fine!), drugs, smut!!!! (dirty talk, a little bit of anal)

Word count: 6k (a third part is coming!)

Part one |

"Harry, would you mind not groping my best friend when I'm around?"

A furious blush flowers over Daisy neck at Willow's commentary, but Harry simply rolls his eyes. Five years apart, he's used to his sister's relentless teasing and mocking words, but it's a new phenomenon for Daisy. She's accustomed to Willow always being on her side and treating her with love and kindness, regardless of what she's doing or who she' seeing.

It was safe to say that the newfound romance between Daisy and Harry took some getting used to.

"Willow, would you mind not being such a heartless little brat?" Harry bites, and Willow immediately raises her middle finger to shove in his face.

"I told you guys, I don't care if you're banging or whatever, just don't do it in front of me."

"Enough," Daisy finally speaks up, leaning forward and shrugging Harry's arm off of her shoulders, "I'm gonna stop hanging out with both of you if you keep freaking out on each other every time we're together."

She stands from the worn couch in Harry and Willow's living room, zeroing in on the siblings.

"Willow, you know we're not 'banging' so stop saying that. Harry, try to control yourself a little better. Hug it out and make up by the time I'm back for the shindig after work, alright?"

They both nod their heads, looking like wounded puppies. They're not used to Daisy taking such a stance, but over the past month, her and Harry have been seeing each other more regularly. They immediately agreed that it was important to let Willow know — neither wanted to hide this from her, and while they hadn't expected her to jump for joy, they had anticipated a bit more support.

Instead, when Daisy and Harry were shuttered away in his bedroom, listening to records and making out, Willow treated her like any other one night stand. She flared her nostrils and made impolite comments, always huffing about the way he touched her, even though they weren't even officially dating. Daisy didn't know what they were, but she did know one thing: She was still a virgin, and it gave her insane amounts of anxiety.

It had nothing to do with how Harry treated her. In fact, he handled her with the utmost amount of respect and sweetness. It had only been a few weeks since their first physical encounter, but even then, he'd been so gentle with her — after he made her cum, he guided Daisy's shaky legs to the bathroom and ran a shower for her. She'd felt awkward about taking a shower together, so he sat on the covered toilet seat while they talked about anything and everything. Afterwards, he dressed her in one of his favorite worn-in band shirts, propped her up on his fluffiest pillows, and ran down the street to grab them burgers from his favorite diner.

It was barely two days before Harry stopped into the record store during her shift, asking if he could come over after she was done.

They hadn't gone on any dates yet, but in complete fairness, it was hard to do. Harry worked every day and Daisy often worked closing shifts, which meant she wasn't finished until midnight. On those days, Harry would meet her outside and walk her home. And on the rare occasion when neither of them were working or busy, they were cooped up and tangled between bedsheets, wanting nothing more than to lick into each other's mouths.

Daisy likes Harry. A lot. And she knows that he had admitted to having feelings for her too — it's what caused the whole thing to start, after all — but he hasn't made a move to shift things to relationship territory, and she's too scared to do it. What if he changed his mind? What if he wanted to keep things casual and physical? What if... what if he didn't want to date a virgin?

As she steps into Sam's Records, she sighs and shakes her head, willing the negative thoughts to physically leave her brain. She shoots a small smile at Warren, her coworker who's high out of his mind most times than not. Daisy swears that he emits a permanent scent of weed, seeping from his pores regardless of whether or not he's smoked.

"What's happenin', Daisy?" Warren greets as she slides onto the barstool behind the cash register.

"Not much. How's the shop been so far?"

Warren shrugs his shoulders as he continues shuffling through the shipment box of new records, "Pretty decent, couple of college chicks came in for the new Bee Gees joint. A kid was asking when we're getting the new Styx record, so I'm gonna ask Sam about it later."

Daisy nods and begins to straighten up the front of the store. Warren isn't nearly as organized as she was, but she finds comfort in the routine of piling Rolling Stone magazines, emptying ash trays, and changing out the music. She was putting on Rumours for the billionth time when Warren whistled out, "Dais, lover boy alert!"

She knows before she turns around that Harry's walking into the store. Warren started referring to him as "lover boy" after he saw Harry leaning over the front counter to press a kiss to Daisy's cheek a few weeks back.

Daisy smiles to herself when she sees him, long legs clad in swishy burnt orange bell bottoms and a ringer tee stretched over his chest. A cigarette hangs from his lips but he's quick to remove it when he focuses in on Daisy, a bright grin on his face.

"Hey, pretty lady," he greets as he stubs out his cigarette in one of the ash trays.

"Hey yourself. Didn't I just see you?" She giggles and Harry shrugs his shoulders, his smile shifting to a guilty smirk.

"Yeah, but my sister was there. Wanted to get some time with you without her."

"H..." Daisy sighs, her eyes darting to the front door when the bell jingles, signaling the entrance of new customers. "This whole act is getting old."

"'S not my fault she's miserable no one wants to jive with her."

She sighs and shakes her head. "You have to let it go. In her defense, I was her friend first. Us being... a thing has to be kinda weird for her, don't you think? It's alright for her to bug out a little."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as he lifts his hand to run it through his hair. Daisy had convinced him to let it grow out just a tad bit longer, the ends now meeting the bottoms of his earlobes.

"Whatever, Dais," he mumbles, "You psyched for the joint tonight? It's been a minute since we've hosted."

"It has been, hm?" Daisy agrees, "It'll be groovy as long as you let me play some ABBA."

Harry grins cheekily and lets out a laugh. "Only for my disco queen."

She tries not to blush as he leans over the register to press a quick kiss to her mouth, but not before his lips linger alongside her ear. "Did I mention how totally foxy you look today? My pretty bunny in those tiny denim shorts."

"Harry," she murmurs in fake shock, though the giant smile plastered across her face gives her away. "Go home, you'll get me when I'm done with my shift here, okay?"

"Far out, Dais," Harry says with a grin, stepping away from the counter, "Make sure you walk over with Warren, capiche? You know I don't like you leaving work alone at night."

"10-4, captain."

He chuckles and nods a goodbye to Warren on his way out, a pep in his step as he thinks about spending the night with his sweet little disco girl. Daisy has the same love struck smile on her face.

. . . Sam's Records closes at 11 pm. After that, Daisy has to lock the doors, count the day's earnings, put it in the safe, sweep, and clean up the shop so tomorrow's opening employee — a sweet girl named Penny, who spent the last year following Led Zeppelin on tour — could start the day with ease.

It's helpful to have Warren there, who's quicker at dealing with the cash, and they're able to make it out of the store by 11:45. Daisy's nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet as Warren locks up, feeling as if her heart has strings that are tugging her in the direction of Harry.

"God, you two are really obsessed with each other, huh?"

Daisy sucks her teeth at Warren's comment, though she knows it's all in good fun. He lights a cigarette as they begin the short distance to Harry and Willow's place.

"How did Will take the news that you're banging her brother?"

There it is again — the assumption that her and Harry are just sleeping together. Sure, they do stuff together, but it seems like all anyone thinks is that they're with one another for physical intimacy. And even if that were the case, why hasn't Harry made a move to take her virginity yet?

She swallows roughly at an attempt to push down her insecurities, instead focusing on the cracks in the sidewalk and the thin smoke coming from Warren's cigarette.

"She's warming up to it," Daisy replies, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I think it's been an adjustment, but I can understand why."

"For sure. Willow's always been protective of H, it makes sense that she's not totally digging it."

"It's me, though," she protests, "She knows I won't do anything to hurt him."

Warren shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. But they've always been attached at the hip. Like, when we were in fifth grade, Willow cried almost every day at school and the only person that could calm her down was Harry. They'd call him at the high school and he'd come all the way down every time and the second she saw him, she stopped. They have a special bond, that's all."

Daisy's an only child, so it's hard for her to grasp such a tight knit relationship, but she gets it — she's been living in San Diego alongside the Styles siblings for years now, and she's seen that trust and love firsthand. She doesn't fight Warren on it, instead letting silence take over as they approach the familiar apartment, where Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back in Town" is playing from the interior.

"Looks like Harry still has dibs on the tunes," Warren smirks, stomping out his dead cigarette.

There are a few familiar faces out on the deck, all of who are currently taking smoke breaks. Daisy flashes them a friendly smile and Warren stays behind, likely to make a dent in the stash of drugs he brought in his bag. Nevertheless, she trucks on through the thick smoke enveloping the apartment — as usual, Willow and Harry never keep things casual when they host a party.

The place is flooded with people and it seems like there's drugs and booze everywhere: Girls are dancing in the living room over people snorting lines off the coffee table and the town's Dead Heads are perched on the couch, pupils as large as dinner plates. She doesn't care much for the atmosphere, though she does recognize Mitch, one of Harry's co-workers, in the corner with his girlfriend Sarah, each with cans of Bud Light in their hands.

Daisy is about to make her way over to them when Harry suddenly appears, a large grin plastered across his face when he zeroes in on her.

"Dais!" he exclaims, ambling forward to wrap his arms around her form. She giggles at his wide smile, her insides melting at his excitement to see her. "You made it."

"Of course I did, silly," Daisy laughs, pulling back slightly. He keeps an arm around her waist so their chests are flush against one another, and she notices the glazed over twinkle in his eyes; a true Harry identifier that he'd been hitting the bong in her absence. "Got this shindig started without me, did you?"

"Please, you know my night's never complete without my sunshine girl."

She grins so hard her cheeks ache and he leans forward to press a quick kiss to her nose. "Interested in a little grass, lady love?"

"Sure," Daisy nods, "Where's your sis, though? Wanna make sure I say hey before we spark up."

Harry shrugs his shoulders as his grasp on Daisy's form relaxes. "Dunno. Haven't seen her in a bit."

She sighs and nods, forcing a small smile onto her lips. "Head on over to your fire escape and I'll meet you there in a tick, 'kay? I just wanna find Willow."

She can tell that he's not thrilled by this, but maybe it's the weed, or even her attempt at scolding him from earlier. Whatever it is, he nods, compliant in her ask, and gives her hand a small squeeze before scampering off in the direction of his locked bedroom.

Daisy heads for the kitchen first to grab a beer, knowing she'll need a little bit of liquid courage to meander through the crowded party looking for her best friend. There's a couple making out; one cornering the other, who sits atop the kitchen counter, and Daisy makes a mental note to tell Harry to wipe it down tomorrow once they're done nursing their hangovers.

With a can of Miller in hand, she scopes the small apartment. Normally, Willow and Daisy are side-by-side at these things, splitting joints and schmoozing with strangers. Willow is naturally more extroverted than her; she's always suggesting they play Spin The Bottle or 7 Minutes in Heaven with their newfound friends while Daisy finds a nervous excuse to refuse. She's grateful that she has Harry now and doesn't have to sit there, watching Willow be more courageous than her.

Even on Daisy's tippy toes, the brunette is nowhere to be found. She rolls her lips into her mouth as she decides to check the bathroom, but all she finds is a line of girls actually trying to use it. She meanders to Willow's bedroom, which is always locked during parties, but gives it a try anyway. She gently raps her knuckles against the wood, pressing an ear to it.

"Will? You in there?"

She doesn't think she hears any movement so she tries again, but she can't be sure with David Bowie's loud voice crooning through the apartment. She goes to knock a third time, but the door is ripped open before her hand makes contact.

"What?" Willow hisses out before she realizes it's Daisy. Her eyes widen and she quickly closes the door a smidge, blocking Daisy from looking inside.

"I was looking for you," Daisy says slowly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I just got here and you weren't out there..."

"Um, yeah. Migraine. Sorry."

Willow's being weird, and not just in the weird "I-don't-like-you-being-with-my-brother" way she's been lately. The best friends never have secrets or hide things from each other, but something about this feels like uncharted territory.

"Are you alright?" Daisy asks softly as she reaches out to gently touch her elbow, "Do you need water, or company?"

"I'm fine," Willow quips, "I'm just not into all this tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Daisy doesn't get a chance to ask another question before Willow narrowly slides behind the door, shutting and locking it in a flash. Her heart tugs at the girl. Her gut says that something is off, but Willow's never lied to her before, and she doesn't even want to think that's a possibility. She chooses to believe her and instead makes the short trek to Harry's room, doing their secret knock — three slow raps followed by two quick ones — to let him know that she's here.

Over the past few weeks, Harry's room has become a safe space for her, and she physically feels her worries melt away when he opens the door and pulls her inside. She giggles when he presses her up against the now-locked door, placing his hands on either side of her head to cage her in.

"I haven't had you to myself all day, sunshine." He mutters, leaning forward to gently nip at the skin below her jaw.

"You're insatiable." Daisy mumbles, leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck. She plays at the loose curls gathering there, soft and silky from the shower he took this afternoon while she laid in his bed, reading a Judy Blume book.

"'m not. Just obsessed with you."

Her stomach flutters as their lips make contact. The kiss feels like home — soft and sweet as their mouths meld together, quickly picking up pace as eager tongues dance for dominance. Harry always wins, despite a solid fight put up on Daisy's end.

She puts her hand to his chest and stops them before they get too carried away, though half of her mind drifts off to the orgasm he gave her last night; two of his fingers steadily pumping into her and stroking at the sensitive spot inside, his dirty mouth whispering promises of pleasure into her ear.

"Willow was locked away in her room. She was acting kinda weird... did you guys have a fight before this?"

Harry's lips are spit-swollen and the color of a muted cherry red as he shakes his head. "No, she was pretty jazzed about tonight. We split half a bottle of wine and watched the news together."

"Oh," Daisy says softly, insecurity quickly creeping into her brain.

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with you, bunny. She might've not been feelin' well or something, don't get it twisted in that pretty head."

She nods, convincing herself to believe him. He knew her better than anyone else, and Willow did say she had a migraine. She breathes deeply and allows herself to fall into Harry's embrace, the familiar scent of his cologne, woody and sweet, instantly soothing her.

"C'mon, let's go sit out on the fire escape."

Harry tugs at her hand and she follows him, pliant in his suggestion. They climb out the window and onto the grated structure. It's early September but the San Diego air is still thick with humidity, coating Daisy's exposed legs and arms. She slightly regrets picking out a suede mini skirt this morning, but when she grabbed it, she remembered that it was one of Harry's favorites on her.

It's quiet between them as Harry digs in his pocket for a joint and his lighter. The party sounds miles away now, and Daisy leans her elbows on the steel banister, taking in the inky night sky. Out here, it really did just feel like her and Harry were the only ones who matter.

Harry sparks up and takes a deep drag before passing it to Daisy. She readily accepts it and sticks it between her lips, inhaling with fluttered eyes. She can feel Harry watching her but all she cares about is getting to the relaxed, floaty state he was already in.

"You're so pretty."

"You're so high." She smiles lazily and opens her eyes, handing it back to Harry.

"Maybe, yeah," he smirks, "But I think you're a stunner regardless of how stoned I am."

Daisy shakes her head and he steps closer to her form, placing a hand on her hip. "Lemme smoke you up, sunshine," he mumbles, and she nods. They do this every time — the first time they smoked together, he found out mellow weed highs made her even more sensitive to his touch, and now, he couldn't help putting his hands all over her.

Harry takes a deep inhale of the joint, holds it, and pulls Daisy closer. Their chests are flush against one other as he fits himself between her parted legs, a hand on her hip to keep her in place. She parts her lips just enough for the smoke to form a steady stream from his mouth to hers as he exhales, sealing it with a firm kiss.

As soon as they meet, everything in her body is screaming for him. She needs to touch him, she needs to feel him, she needs to be connected to him.

Quickly, slow kisses intertwine with undertones of want, and it's apparent that Daisy is just as needy as ever, even with mutual orgasms provided on a near-daily basis. Harry wants to tease her for it, but he's a little too far gone now, too; seeing her in the late summer night, sticky skin, a mini skirt, and a poor excuse for a lace top covering her upper body. The warm lust between them is palpable as his tongue pokes around the inside of her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip and squeezing her side with a familiar desperation. She's panting, struggling to keep up, but trying her absolute hardest not to get left in the dust.

"Can I make you feel good, bunny?" Harry breathes into her mouth, trailing his fingertips along her midriff and dancing along the waistband of her skirt. She's ready to nod and provide consent until the big storm cloud of insecurity suddenly overtakes her thoughts, self-deprecating insults about her virginity status becoming the only thing she can focus on.

"Dais?" Harry backs away just slightly, enough to take in her facial expression. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to—"

Daisy refuses to have another bad thought as she cuts him off and mashes their lips together, messy and wet. Her trembling hands find the bottom of his tee shirt; a woman on a defined mission as she pulls the fabric upwards, her palms pressed against his stomach. She goes to peel the shirt off him when he breaks their kiss again, much to her dismay.

"Hey, what gives?" Harry asks softly, leaning down a bit so they're eye level, "Not that I don't love this, but you're moving mighty quick here, sunshine girl."

She resists the urge to huff in frustration, instead letting his shirt fall back down to his hips. "I just... want you, H. You dig?"

Harry chuckles, his eyes crinkling at her attempt at casual sex talk. "Yeah, I dig, but I thought we established that ages ago."

"Well, I wanna like... you know, pop my cherry tonight."

His eyes widen and his hands drop from Daisy's form. He's never heard her refer to her virginity in such a crass way, even if it's the slang everyone uses. Besides the fact, he's shocked she suddenly wants to lose it at a party with nearly 30 people on the other side of the door.

"Dais," Harry's eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, "You deserve more than just 'popping your cherry.' Are you spaced out or something?"

She shakes her head quickly, determined to get what she wants.

"No. I wanna lose it tonight, I'm tired of being a virgin and you haven't made any moves to take it so if you don't want to, it's groovy—"

"What on earth are you on about?" Harry questions, "Why wouldn't I wanna sleep with you? I thought— well maybe I was misinterpreting things but I thought we were, like, going steady, I know I haven't asked or anything but I was preparing to. Honest."

Daisy's face warms at Harry's admittance. She blinks her eyes a few times as she processes his words, her bottom lip dropping open. "I'm... I just thought you've been with so many people, maybe you didn't want the responsibility of being with someone who... hasn't, y'know?"

Harry sighs and nods his head understandingly. Stubbing the joint out on the cool banister of the fire escape, he reaches forward to envelop her form in a tight hug. Suddenly, her senses are invaded by Harry, and she basks in the feel of his arms around her and his comforting scent.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more upfront about what I wanted," Harry mumbles into her hair, "But I do want you to be my girl. As for the whole virginity thing... I never wanted to pressure you. You never seemed like you were in a rush to lose it, and I wanted us to build up to it, I guess. Make sure you were comfortable before we did it. But you'd be totally out of your mind to think I had no interest in doing that with you, baby."

"I wanna be your girl," Daisy murmurs before pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. "And I want you to be my first. I've never felt more comfortable with another person before."

"Yeah?" Harry asks with a teasing smirk, ducking down to look at her, "You're my girl, then. I will be your first, but not tonight. You deserve so much more than a rendezvous at a party, silly girl."

"Shush," Daisy says, growing bashful at his words. "Soon, though?"

Harry chuckles and nods. "Yeah, sunshine. Soon."

. . .

Harry and Daisy spend the rest of the night in his bedroom, high off the joint they smoked and their newly established relationship.

Even when Harry's tuckered out, fast asleep next to her in bed while the party simmers outside, leaving only the too-drunk and quiet trippers behind, Daisy can't believe it. She keeps replaying the conversation in her brain, amazed that he somehow likes her enough to be her boyfriend. She feels so special.

And while his soft snores offer a comfortable rhythmic sound, it's not enough for Daisy to ignore her parched throat. Carefully, she untangles herself from the sheets and tiptoes out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. She's prepared to make a quick trek to the kitchen when she sees Willow emerge from her own bedroom, followed by a blonde girl Daisy faintly recognizes from the neighborhood. She goes to say hi, relieved that Willow may be feeling a little better, but the words get stuck in her throat when the blonde grasps at Willow's hand, spinning her to press a kiss to her lips.

Willow doesn't notice Daisy standing there with wide eyes. She doesn't know what this implies, if Willow's gay or straight or whatever, and she doesn't care. She knows not everyone is understanding and welcoming in that way, and it pains her to think that her best friend would hide such a big secret from her, or receive hatred for the person she likes. She's seen her fair share of same sex hookups at the disco, where men or women try to be together in secret, and she's never thought too much about it. Not until right now, when she sees her smacking lips with another girl right in front of her.

Daisy doesn't know what to say, so she doesn't say anything. Instead, she quickly turns on her heel and goes back to Harry's room, locking it quietly. With a spinning head, she doesn't even notice that he's awake and watching her, his eyes puffy with sleep.

"Y'alright?"

She nearly jumps at the sound of the voice but forces a tight smile on her lips. She doesn't want to — no, she's refusing — to reveal this information to Harry. It's not her secret to tell, if there's anything even to it.

"Yeah. I needed a drink, I didn't know you were up."

Harry hums and stretches his arms out, propping himself up against the mess of pillows behind him. "Come back to bed?"

Her heart flutters at his request, adoring the way the words sound leaving his mouth. Without a second thought, she's climbing back into the cotton wonderland of sheets and pillows, breathing in his scent as he wraps his arms around her body, pulling her closer.

Tangling their legs together, Daisy presses her head to his chest. She places a hand to his stomach and feels his slow breathing. They're quiet for a little bit and she assumes he's fallen back asleep until she feels his length hardening beneath her thigh. She swallows, biting her lip as she contemplates mentioning it.

"Sorry," Harry eventually mumbles out, pressing a kiss to her hair, "Just ignore it, it'll go away on its own."

"We're not even doing anything." Daisy teases, lifting her head to press her chin into his chest. He places his hand at the back of her head and smiles.

"You're in my shirt and a tiny little pair of panties, cuddling me, looking adorable as shit. You get me going regardless of whether or not we're doing anything."

"You like when I wear your clothes?" she presses, sitting up slightly to balance on her knees. Slowly, she splits her thighs to straddle his waist, fitting her core on his stomach.

"Of course," Harry mutters, tugging at his own hair, "You look smokin' in anything, but something about you wearing my shirts..." his fingers dance over the skin of her thigh, lifting up the worn fabric of his Peter Gabriel tee. He zeroes in on the pale pink underwear covering her modesty and he breathes out, feeling his briefs constrict his plumping cock even more.

"And what about these?" she asks, dipping her fingers underneath the elastic waistband of her underwear. "Do you prefer me wearing them? Or do you like when you can see everything?"

"Depends. Think this little pussy is gorgeous regardless... but I especially love when you get so worked up for me that you're dripping in your panties, getting them all sticky with the sweetest little wet spot," he mumbles, thumbing over her clit through the material. "Looks so incredible, I just wanna bury my tongue in you until you can't take it anymore."

"Oh," Daisy breathes out, bucking her hips in a failed attempt for more friction between her legs. Harry smirks as her eyes begin to close. He pauses his movements and lifts his thumb to his mouth, coating it in spit before returning to his original movements, forming light circles through her underwear.

"I bet you'd like that, hm?" He pushes, applying more pressure to the bundle of nerves, "You'd have to push me away. Can never get enough of the way you taste, especially when you start squirting... it's the hottest thing I've ever seen, bunny."

"More," Daisy whimpers, taking a shaky hand down to her lower half. She moves the strip of fabric covering her pussy to the side, revealing her plump, glistening lips. She parts them carefully, forming a V with her fingers, her pearly clit begging for attention.

"Take 'em off," Harry instructs, breathing shallowly as he takes in the appearance of her pussy. When they first started being physical together, she was embarrassed by her pubic hair, explaining that she knew fully grown bushes were "in" but she wasn't sure what she liked. She was nervous about it and wanted to please Harry, who simply encouraged her to experiment with different styles and find whatever made her feel the best. It was 1976 after all, and he was exhausted by anti-feminist rhetoric that would ever make his girl feel bad.

Lately, Daisy settled for a trimmed bush above her lips. It looked manicured and neat, and she discovered both her and Harry loved having enough hair there for him to tug on when he was going down on her. He hadn't yet told her that he was also obsessed with the way her juices stuck around, making her even wetter.

Once Daisy strips her modesty of her underwear, anything's fair game. Harry uses one of hands to firmly grab her ass as he situates her over his brief-covered cock, making her stomach twist with nerves.

"Not gonna put it in, sunshine," he mumbles, his length twitching at the sight of her pussy spread open over his underwear, "Just wanna grind with you a little, alright? Make us both feel really good."

Daisy nods eagerly, rolling her hips against his. She whimpers at the sensation that offers a semblance of the friction she'd been desperately searching for. He pulls his cock out of his briefs and pushes it between her lips, making them both groan out.

"There you go," Harry encourages as he gently bucks upwards to meet her motions, shifting his cock against her clit, "Show me you deserve to cum on my cock. Show me how much you want me to fuck this tight little pussy."

Daisy lets her head lull to the side, her eyes squeezed shut at his dirty words. They always get her impossibly close to coming, feeling as if the pleasure-filled feelings are finally going to bubble over and spill.

They're moving in sync with one another, her hands flat on his chest, moaning at their closeness. It feels so good, and she wants to tell him to slip his cock in, to fill her up and fuck her until she can't remember her own name, but she knows he won't; instead uttering something about it not being the right moment.

"Shit, I'm close," Daisy mumbles out through swollen lips. Her right hand is moving to her pussy to rub her clit in small circles and Harry's jaw falls slack as he watches her. He gives her hip a squeeze and folds his legs at the knee, pushing her down to her tummy so their chest to chest.

"Know my dirty girl needs a bit more to cum, hm?" The question is rhetorical but she nods helplessly anyway, shuttering beneath his grasp. He trails daft fingers to her backside and grabs one of her ass cheeks so her tighter hole is exposed. She groans into his skin but he removes his hand, giving her butt a firm slap.

"Shush, sweetness." Harry instructs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Before Daisy has a chance to whine, he's back to circling the tight rim of muscles, reaching downward to collect some of her dripping arousal from her inner thighs. Daisy can barely focus on all of the different sensations, and once he presses the tip of his thumb into her ass, she's a goner.

"Fuck, Harry—" she moans as her holes pulsate, her asshole squeezing Harry's finger.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he mutters, using his other hand to grip her hip, keeping her firmly in place. Seeing and listening to Daisy cum is enough to get him there — his own personal wet dream, he swears — and it's only a few moments after her orgasm has passed that he's spitting out a heavy load from his cock, covering their bellies with his warm cum.

Simultaneously, their bodies come to a stop, and the only sound is their choppy breathing. Gently, he pulls his finger out of her, giving her thigh a small squeeze. He feels that she's slowly starting to go lax, and he wants to clean her up before they go back to sleep.

"Up, sunshine," Harry mumbles against the shell of her ear, "Need to get you clean."

Daisy nods, slowly rising from his chest. She glances down to see the mess they've made and bites her lip, feeling the familiar stirring in her core again.

"And you call me insatiable," Harry snickers, making her roll her eyes. She climbs off of him with sore thighs and he gets up, grabbing a dirty tee shirt to clean them up.

She's quiet and missing the usual glow she has post-orgasm, making his stomach twist slightly. "Everything alright?" He asks, moving the soft fabric between her legs to wipe up her arousal.

Daisy hums, though it's not much of an answer. The second they reached their peaks, images of Willow kissing that girl re-entered her brain. She feels shitty for using Harry as a distraction from what was bothering her to begin with.

"Was... were you comfortable with all that?" Harry presses, and it's only then that it dawns on her that he thinks he's the problem. With wide eyes she nods her head, grabbing her — his — tee-shirt from earlier, sliding it over her body.

"It was amazing, H," Daisy answers, crawling on her knees to reach where he's standing over the bed. She shuffles forward and presses a kiss to his lips, wishing that she could tell him what she saw. "Let's get some more rest. Please?"

And Harry can hardly deny her, especially when she looks so tired and fucked out. He pulls on a clean pair of briefs and climbs back into the bed, taking his position as the big spoon. His body wraps effortlessly around hers, like two puzzle pieces begging to be clicked together.

"Night, Dais." He mumbles, pecking her shoulder.

"G'night, Harry."

Part three | Series masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles fan fic #fanfic #harrys house #harry styles writing #harry styles concept

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crguang · 2 months

Text

now i bend like a willow thinking of you

You don’t do sleepless nights. But tonight, Kafka’s absence feels heavier than usual.

fem!reader, 1.2K words of fluff really

A/N: can’t believe kafka of all people got me writing… i thought of this cute scenario and it wouldn’t leave my mind until i wrote it. curse you, sexy woman!!!!

Thermostat set to just below room temperature and unable to see a foot in front of you due to the room’s absolute darkness, it won’t be long before you surrender to your body’s fatigue. You stayed up later than usual, your mind restlessly running circles around a certain woman. You’ve willed it to shut up and let you sleep for almost an hour now, to no avail. Your limbs are heavy, your cheek is comfortably buried in your pillow and still you think of her. Honestly, how pathetic can you be— unable to sleep because her presence leaves behind a substantial silence whenever she leaves your sight. It’s strange, it’s the first time quiet has made you uneasy. You’ve built your life in the deep of it and found a home in solitude, yet…

In the past few years you’ve known her, you’ve learned that Kafka leaves an impression in any room she steps into, purposefully or not. She’s elusive and her thoughts even more so, but impossible to overlook. Maybe it’s the obvious disinterest in almost everything that reflects through her eyes. Maybe it’s the fixed curl of her lips into her signature enigmatic smile, leaving you with the sensation that she has something up her sleeve. Perhaps it’s her unusual hair color. You don’t know. Despite her infuriating ways and the amusement she finds in toying with people, you’ve always noticed her; the subtle perfume she wears, the twitch of her mouth when something catches her eye, her ridiculous attention to detail when it comes to coats. You feel you could notice everything about her and still not know who she is. Or rather, still have things to discover like she’s an entire universe compacted into one person. Could you be content learning her if that was the only thing you dedicated your years to?

You bring a palm to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up, and groan in disgust. No way the thought of her was flustering you so. How deplorable. It’s only been four days since she offered you a wink as goodbye and left to complete part of Elio’s Script with Silver Wolf in tow. You’re stuck with Blade and Sam, the brooding ones, and it would be fine if the quiet wasn’t making your skin crawl. Such an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling. You pat your cheek a couple times and shake your head. You shift into the bed, adjusting the comforter over your body. You will not let Kafka take up any more space in your mind when you should be peacefully asleep, enough is enough.

You’re drowsy and minutes away from finally passing out when the door creaks open. You hear it shut softly seconds later. Your muddled mind only allows your muscles to tense up in the face of a potential threat before the realization hits you when the sound of heels clacking across the floor registers in your brain. You sit up in a flash, reach for the lamp on your bedside table to flick the light open, then turn towards your supposed assailant with narrowed eyes.

Kafka blinks at you when you meet her gaze, and her fingers stop fiddling with the button of her shirt as she stands in the middle of the room without her favourite coat. You stare at each other for a moment before her eyelids lower perceptibly and her lips stretch into that usual smile.

“…Ugh.” You ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at seeing her in the dim yellow light and turn the lamp back off. You can feel her amusement as you settle back into a comfortable position on your side, an arm under the pillow.

You’re still sleepy, but now that she’s actually here your traitorous mind has been lit up again. You hear the rustling of her clothes as she unclasps the various straps and buckles of her outfit. Without saying a word, she fills the silence around you in a way that brings relief to your soul. It’s stupid, you think, how easily she reduces you to a lovestruck fool. You hate the power she holds over you, yet crave its soothing effect.

“How was the mission?” You mutter, eyes still shut.

You hear her clothes hit the floor when she replies with a drawl, “Boring. Long.”

You catch the notes of exasperation in her voice. “At least you got to stretch your legs.”

She hums. You guess she’s rummaging through your closet for something to sleep in when she pauses, presumably finds what she’s looking for, then closes the door.

“Don’t worry,” she says, her tone undoubtedly teasing, “we’ll find a use for you yet.”

“Fuck you,” you utter without a bite, fatigue slurring your words a little.

Her following chuckle makes you smile. There are muted footsteps on the wooden floor as Kafka approaches the bed, tugging on the tie in her hair to set it loose from her ponytail. She runs a hand through the freed locks.

“Move,” she orders simply.

You grumble, brows furrowing in offense even as you comply and make space for her on the left side of the bed. “You’re so bossy. It’s literally my bed.”

She makes a noise of agreement while slipping under the covers. Her chest presses against your back and a hand sneaks under your shirt to slither across your stomach to the valley of your breasts where it rests comfortably. Her thigh lodges itself between yours. You hear the faintest breath of satisfaction as the tip of her nose brushes your exposed nape. Kafka is warm and secure against you, two things you feel a bit silly to associate with her. They best describe her in this moment, however, and you’re too tired to fight how relaxed she makes you feel.

“…You’re wearing my shampoo,” she says suddenly. You feel her breath on your skin.

“No.”

Embarrassment washes over you. You forgot that you washed your hair with her shampoo that morning because you always liked the scent and you missed her. You didn’t think she would be back in at least a couple more days and thought that the smell would have time to fade away before she could notice. Ugh.

You can almost see her teasing, growing smile in your mind’s eye as she makes a show of inhaling your hair more deeply, burying her nose in it and taking a long audible breath.

“That is definitely my shampoo.”

“I ran out of mine and yours was right there,” you reply dismissively.

Kafka smiles. She sees through your charade, of course, she always has. Her index finger traces inconsequential shapes into the skin of your chest.

“You missed me.”

You don’t contradict her. “Whatever.”

Your hand moves under your shirt to lace your fingers with hers and she hums contently behind you. Kafka leaves many statements unsaid, masterfully navigates a conversation to only reveal what she wants you to know, but you know her enough for these words to not get lost in the sensations she gives you. It’s the middle of the night and she came to your room fully dressed in her everyday clothes. She only had the idea to discard her coat before seeking you out moments after coming back from her mission, and now she’s curled around you like a satisfied cat, breathing in the shampoo in your hair. She’s missed you too.

With Kafka’s heartbeat against your back and her controlled breaths on the back of your neck, sleep comes ridiculously easy. You doze off, the sound of her alike a lullaby meant for your ears only.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #kafka x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #kafka x you #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail kafka

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rodolfoparras · 8 months

Note

share the angstttt

-⚰️

Thinking about sexually repressed Price | 18+ MDNI

Pairing: John Price x Top Male reader

Content tags: angsty porn, internalized homophobia, closeted character, angst with a happy ending, masturbation, anal fingering, pining, slow burn

A/N: this isn’t meant to be a proper piece of writing, consider it a stream of consciousness author was clearly working through something here 💀 and bear with the awful grammar spelling mistakes ooc moments etc , also this wasn’t supposed to be this big nor this angsty but I was listening to hozier so things took a turn also to really set the mood I’d suggest listening to from Eden by hozier, work song by hozier, like real people do by hozier and then finally treat yourself with willow by Taylor swift to ease any remaining pain

Sexually repressed Price who’s the only one on the team without a spouse, who likes men but is deeply closeted, who’s starting to think that the liquor and tobacco smoke is starting to taste a bit more like loneliness

Sexually repressed Price who’s got grays in his hair, lines on his face and crow feet around his eyes when he finally meets the type of man he’s always desired

Sexually repressed Price whose hands shake and heart pounds every time your knees knock together or your hands brush, whose face burns and he stutters every time he tries talking to you, who’s so acutely aware of every glance every touch every word he says who gets so in his head about every interaction that he decides to keep himself locked in his office just to avoid any more awkward interactions, who’s never had this issue before because he’s never been attracted to the other men in his circle, attracted to men the words prickle at his throat like whiskey and cigar smoke

Sexually repressed Price who does his best to keep your relationship professional, who treats you no different to how a captain would treat his subordinate.

He’ll send you out to a strenuous training session during heinous weather conditions without thinking twice about it, even though he’s trying his best not to pull your shivering form in his warm embrace.

Price wont think twice about scolding you when you mess up during a mission, will grab onto the scruff of your neck and get all up in your face, even though he’ll also visibly get nervous once he realizes he’s just a hair away from your lips

Price will only speaks to you in a professional tone, words sharp and tone firm but then there are instances where he’ll catch himself slipping up, sharp words rounding out, tone softening up by just looking into your eyes.

Sexually repressed Price who somehow ends up with one of your belongings in his hand whether it be a shirt, a glove, a mask and can’t help but notice how well the tangy smell of your sweat mingles with the sweetness from your cologne, can’t help but think how much it smells of a man and God knows he hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in that smell so he press his nose against the fabric of your shirt, glove or whatever and just loses himself in the scent.

He promises himself he’ll return it but it ends up staying in his rooms for weeks, and he smells it when he needs comfort, when he goes to sleep, when he’s being reminded of the fact that it’s there with him, til it no longer smells like you

When the last trace of your scent lingers on the fabric, he ends up doing something stupid. During one of those nights when he’s drinking liquor like it’s water and inhaling tobacco smoke like it’s his last day on earth, his eyes will land upon your shirt or glove or whatever it is and he’ll make a bee line to the material, before taking it to bed with him

Sexually repressed Price who doesn’t even like to masturbate, who just squeezes his thighs together in hopes of getting some relief or rubs his cock against the sheets until he’s spurting ropes of cum all over it, who doesn’t know how to finger himself properly, experiences it painfully even but can’t help but sneak a hand down his pants while pressing the fabric of your shirt or glove or whatever it is, against his nose.

You do a lot of things without thinking when horny or so Price has heard so he justifies that as being the reason as to why he presses the material against his nose while jerking off. It’s so strange, this new feeling, it feels like you’re there in bed with him, shallow breathes escapes his lips as he imagines you pinning him down to the very same bed, squelching sound getting louder as he imagines you grinding your clothed cock down on him, he’s never had his scenarios be this vivid before he can even see the flush upon his own cheeks, the way he bites down on his bottom lip as you continue to grind down on him and within seconds he’s spurting ropes of cum all over his fist, the fabric still pressed up against him

It’s weird- the sensation that he feels, a humming sensation strumming though his body and mingling with the ever lasting guilt he feels

Sexually repressed Price who ends up with the army catalogue in his hands, who flips to the page where your picture lays, one hand holding a glass of whiskey while the other traces over your features

You look like everything Price had dreamt of in his younger years, smart, handsome and with a promising career in the army maybe if he’d met you back then things would be different maybe he’d be open to dating you, maybe you’d want him too even. Back then he’d been fresh faced and eager to drink up the knowledge of the world not knowing it was eager to swallow him whole. He tears out the page, for reasons he doesn’t even know but it’s the very first picture of a man he doesn’t crumble and hide under his bed but instead neatly folds up and keeps in his wallet.

Sexually repressed Price who ends up breaking one of his rules who treats you more than a captain treats a subordinated when he invites you out to a bar with the rest of 141, it’s a celebratory event for a successful mission, but it feels anything but that, because you get so drunk out of your mind that you start spurting nonsense, stumbling upon the topic of masturbation, and sharing how to get yourself off properly, how to use your hands or mouth when with someone, mind too drunk to register what you’re saying, going in such far detail Price feels his ears burn and hands shake as he runs off into a dirty bathroom stall, splashing water on his face and staring down his reflection,

He thinks about the words you said when you’re cleaning your weapon, skilled fingers easily disarming something that’s presented as untouchable, can’t help but think about them when he sees you pinning soldiers down during sparring sessions, caging men under your weight without actually hurting them, He thinks and thinks and thinks until he breaks his rule again, lays down on his side on his bed, feels the cold sheets sending chilies down his spine only for the sensation to intensify once his chilly fingers touch the cleft of his ass,

Price doesn’t like fingering himself but he still circles his puckered rim with his slicked up fingers, relaxing the muscle just like you’d suggested that one drunken night. Price doesn’t see a point in fingering himself when his cock is hard and weeping between his legs but he still slides the tip of his finger inside the tight ring of muscles, gently grazing the wall of nerves like you’d slurred out that one drunken night. Price knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he continues to work his finger deeper inside of him, eyes fluttering shut and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip, even managing to working himself up to a second one as moans escape him, continues to work himself til there’s no point in stopping despite knowing how wrong it is because he’s teetering closers to the edge before finally cumming all over his hand.

Sexually repressed Price who’s almost broken all of his rules when he starts spending more time with you, beyond ways that are considered normal for a captain and his subordinate. It’s not like you’re forcing your way into his office and it’s not like he’s dragged you to sit next to him yet for whatever reason you’ve decided to do paper work next to him, claiming it’s the most quiet room on base and before he can argue you’ve already put down your pen and papers.

The very first time you do this he’s hyperaware of your presence, wondering if he’s being too obvious with every glance, hands subtly shaking as he adjusts his own papers, wondering if he should say something when the silence goes on for too long, wondering if he’s disturbing you when you’re the one doing work in his office.

Slowly but surely he gets used to your presence, doesn’t glance as much but instead looks at you properly and manages a soft smile even, his hands no longer shake and he can now comfortably offer you his cigar without embarrassing himself, and soon the long pauses of silence turn into comfortable conversations where you do anything but paper work and sure he still blushes when your hands and knees knock together as you’re passing cigars back and forth and he still messes up a sentence or a word when trying to make casual conversation with you but it’s comfortable, that is of course until the universe decides to laugh in his face.

It’s when you’ve decided to take it upon yourself to prep his cigar for him. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything you just thought you should do it for him since he’s kind enough to share them with you but he can’t help but notice the way your fingers gently roll the cigar , the way your lick your lips when trying to cut it precisely the way your half lidded eyes and lazy smile will meet his gaze as you’re playfully blowing the smoke in his face

Once the paper work is finished up and you’re back in your room, he’s still seated in his office chair, his cigar tucked between his fingers and he can’t help but remember the way you’d prepped the cigar, how you’d put the tobacco between your lips, can’t help but remember the playful smile on your face, eyes falling closed as you took a break from the draining paper work and all of sudden he feels himself harden in his pants

His eyes wander to his office door, it’s locked he knows it’s locked, then his fingers wander down to his zipper, undoing his pants and easily wrapping a hand around his dick, and gently pumping it

Thoughts of you whirl around in his head much like the cigar smoke that had whirled in the air and before he knows it he’s cumming all over his fist, the same feeling of shame and guilt bubbling inside of him

Sexually repressed Price who once again finds himself in a dirty bathroom stall, hands shaking and ears burning as he stares at his own reflection.

You’d casually mentioned you were seeing, someone no, casually mentioned that you were seeing a man, there was no shame on your face no hesitation in your tone when you said the words, said it like you said how to please yourself the night you were drunk, but this time around you were stone cold sober, price pukes into the toilet bowl like he’d been the one drinking

Sexually repressed Price who can’t help but think of your attraction towards men, who stares at himself naked in the mirror, keeps wondering if you’d ever want someone like him, who becomes so hyper aware of your existence, who scoops and digs for any sign that you’re attracted to him only to bury it as far as he can into the ground when he finds hints of it

Sexually repressed who has his room next to yours, who can hear whomever you brought home for the night, who can hear its a man, who can’t help but sneak his hand down his pants and imagine it was him pinned on your weight, with you showing him how to take your mouth, how to take your fingers, how to take your cock, what it’s like to have a man in bed

His mind fills with thoughts of you pinning down the man as if he were another soldiers, but those arm would continue to trace down his shoulders chest and abdomen. His mind fills with thoughts of your fingers, who so easily takes apart deadly weapons, taking apart the man in the very same way

Sexually repressed Price who finds himself back at the very same bar, this time with just you alone, drunk out of your minds and talking about something other than cigar liquor or paper work, who gets so drunk you have to sling an arm over his shoulder and carry him to his room and somewhere on the walk back, between the steps the drunken talks the heavy breathes from trying to carry a full grown man he slips up, eyes flickering between your lips and eyes and before you know it the two of you kiss

He feels scared once he realizes what he has done eyes wide and mouth agape, desperately trying to explain himself but you’re ever so calm collected a gentle smile on your face , briefly pecking his lips before pulling away

He’s still drunk as he were moments ago but sober enough to pull you in for another kiss and it’s clumsy teeth clashing, smacking sounds echoing loudly smiling so much you’re practically barely kissing but he loves it so much at one point you fall down onto pavement and stay seated there, maybe it’s the liquor maybe it’s the adrenaline but for the first time he doesn’t feel any of the guilt brewing inside of him as he interlocks your hands and rests his head on your shoulder

The next morning there’s just a tad bit of guilt at the back of his throat but it may very well be the liquor and tobacco smoke, he wakes up next to a glass of water and pain killers for the headache that’s already making itself known

When he arrives to the first meeting that morning he thinks you’ll confront him about that night, pulse roaring in his ears and hand shaking as he takes a seat at the table but nothing of that sort happens, you carry a conversation with soap, you listen through the debriefing and you part ways after the meeting

Later that night he seeks you out on his own, voice soft, gaze avoidant as he leads you to his office under the disguise of doing paper work and of course you take him up on that offer

You barely do paper work instead you share a cigar til you’ve smoked for so long you’ve lost interest in the tobacco leaf and there’s only a silence lingering in the air for a good couple of minutes. Finally he says something apologies tumbling past his lips hands gesturing for what he doesn’t dare say

It’s okay, you explain to him, there’s no need to worry about it, but he won’t stop apologizing til you ask him if you can kiss him again and he halts his movements and falls silent, you can almost hear a pin drop before he nods his head and you lean in and cup his face and gently slot your lips together

You kiss and you kiss and you kiss til you’re caging his body against the sofa like he’s dreamt of so many times, hands racking alongside of his ribs like dissembling one of your weapons and eagerly kissing his lips and he looks so blissful so at ease soft gasps escaping his lips with every kiss as he claws at the sofa under him finally his eyes flutter open hands cupping your cheek and the biggest smile overtakes his face as you kiss again and again and again

And that’s how this thing starts This relationship that really isn’t a relationship where you and him do everything two lovers would do but he’s not yours and you’re not his but you don’t seem to mind despite the thoughts that plague him at night

You’re always so patient so understanding don’t mind sharing kisses and caresses in hiding but it eats at him and eats at him but doesn’t make him any more braver

You deserve something more and when he finally thinks he’s ready to give you that the opportunity is taken away, and he’s sent out on a mission in which he almost doesn’t return

But you don’t give up hope, you sit outside even and wait for him to come home you don’t know how much time has passed but you’ve slept and showered and eaten a handful of times until you finally see a figure making its way towards you

It’s price

It’s your John

Funny how the sky cries just as tears fall down your cheek and within seconds you’re holding him in your embrace and you’re both crying before he finally cups your cheeks and you kiss, under the night sky, in front of the base, in front of the whole world to see

#can we just take a moment that I wrote basically a whole story #through thought bubbles #idk I was going through it today #John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #top male reader #bottom male character #sub male character #dom male reader #call of duty #⚰️ anon

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sh7ggy · 2 months

Text

HAWKS (KEIGO TAKAMI) X (G/N) READER

summary: going on a date with hawks <3

A/N: sorry for not posting much, ive been a mix of busy, unmotivated and uninspired, but im back now :3

includes: fluff, mild swearing, innuendos.

When Keigo asked you out, you were over the moon. You've had a crush on him for a while now, and for him to want to take you out on a date, was like a dream come true.

I mean, how could you not have a crush on him? He's absolutely gorgeous, suave, funny and a true gentleman. You and him had been friends for a while, and now you were finally taking it to the next step.

He wanted to meet you at the park, so you put on something casual. Although, you still wanted to impress him, so you accessorized with some jewelry.

Then, it was finally time.

When you arrived at the park at exactly 23:00 like he asked, of course, nobody was there at that time of night, Keigo had specifically planned it that way, so the two of you could get some privacy without him being mobbed by fans.

You sat down on a nearby bench, waiting for your date to arrive.

A few minutes later, you spotted a pair of crimson wings flying towards you.

'Hey there, hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long.' He landed in front of you.

Luckily, he wasn't dressed up either. Just wearing an oversized white sweater and baggy jeans. For some reason, he also had a big backpack with him.

'Now, let's get to walking. I've got a nice spot for us to go to.'

While you were walking through the foresty part of the park, there was a comfortable silence. Both of you guys just looking around, taking in the beautiful view of the red and yellow fall leaves on the trees. The bright moonlight lit up the park, so it wasn't too dark to see.

At some point, you two were walking so close together, you noticed the backs of your hands touching. You were wondering if Keigo noticed it too, when he suddenly reached around and grabbed your hand. There was your answer.

'I'm sure you don't mind, right?'

'No, I don't.' You blushed and looked away.

He must've noticed your blushing, cause he had a cheeky grin on his face the rest of the way there.

You eventually arrived at the spot Keigo had meant to take you to. It was a gorgeous lookout with a view of the lake beneath you.

To your displeasure, he let go of your hand.

He opened the mysterious backpack he had with him and took out a red and white-checkered picnic blanket and snacks and laid them out under a willow tree.

'Did you think I'd let you sit on the ground?' He winked at you goofily.

'You didn't have to bring all this for me.' You said as you sat down next to him on the blanket.

'Only the best for you, birdie.'

You chuckled at the petname.

'Don't laugh at me!' He said, pretending to be offended. 'Now, eat up.' He fed you a strawberry to shut you up.

'Damn, you didn't have to force-feed me.' You punched his shoulder playfully.

'Shut your mouth before I force-feed you something else.' He punched you back a little bit harder.

'Why don't you make me shut up?' You provoked him.

'Don't try me. I'll kick your ass.'

The two of you started play-fighting. While you fought with all your strength, he was actually holding back, cause as a hero, he was much stronger than you. He wasn't letting you win, though.

'Wow. you really aren't gonna let your date win?' You feigned anger.

'You're such a brat.'

That's when he pinned you to the ground and kissed you. It was a short moment, but the feeling of his lips on yours took your breath away.

'That ought to shut you up.' He smirked as he released you wrists from his grip and sat back up.

And he was right, it did shut you up. You were silent for a while as you stared off into the distance.

'Hey, I didn't actually mean the thing about shutting you up.' Keigo spoke up after a little while. He was afraid he'd overstepped a boundary.

'I know, I'm just looking at the view. It's really beautiful.' You tried to distract him from the fact that the kiss flustered you.

'Yeah, it really is.' He said, looking at you instead of the view.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #fluff #fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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reashot · 3 months

Text

A Final Goodbye... (Lancaster in the end.)

So with RT gone and with RWBY never going to get a satisfying ending I made this instead.

Salem: ... It has begun.

Tyrian: May I ask, what has begun exactly, your evilship?

Salem: The end of the universe.

Tyrian: Oh... Can we stop that?

Salem: I'm afraid not. It has been decided by someone higher than me.

Tyrian: Someone higher. Is it the twin gods?

Salem: Ehhh..... Someone much higher than even them I'm afraid.

Tyrian: I see... So this is it then?

Salem: This is it.

Tyrian: Then I'm proud that I was your number one henchman.

*flash*

think of this as the same thing that destroyed the multiverse during the crisis on infinite earth.

Somewhere in Vacuo

Yang: Well this sucks.

Blake: Tell me about it. Just right when we're finally together,

Yang: I know babe. And before we get to be erased from existence I want to say to you again.

I love you.

Blake: Come here...

*flash*

Tai: There goes my daughter.

Raven: At least she died with someone she loved.

Tai: ...It doesn't mean she hates you know.

Raven: Tai. We're about to die. So you don't have to lie to make me feel better.

Tai: If it makes you feel any better Yang doesn't want to spend her final moment with me either.

Raven: Some parents we are.

Tai: The last time I check I was the parent. And you were the one that left us.

Raven: I know that! Do you think I want to leave her in the first place and leave you?! But it's too late for that now.

Tai: You know maybe we can try again. You can apologize to Yang in the next life.

Raven: I-I would like that...

*flash*

Willow: I really picked a bad time to stop drinking.

Whitley: At least we can spend our last family time together.

Weiss: As much I hate saying this. I'm glad I at least got to spend my last time on Remnants with you, mom and.... Wait a sec, where did Winter go?

Qrow: Boy. I really picked a good time to start drinking.

Winter: Qrow. There's something I wanted to tell you.

Qrow: Fire away Ice queen.

Winter: *gets down on one knee* Qrow Branwen will you marry me?

Qrow: Uhhh.... all right.

Winter: Great. Let me introduce you to my family. Weiss meet your new brother in-law.

Qrow: Uh hey Ice princess. I guess I'm marrying your sister now.

Weiss: WHAT!!! If you think I'm letting a drunk deadbeat marrying my sister then you must be fuc...

*flash*

Ruby: This it Jaune. Are you scared?

Jaune: Very. So how do you feel Ruby.

Ruby: Same... It's not supposed to end this way.

Jaune: I know Rubes, but what done is done. And I'm glad I got to spend the end of the world with a friend.

Ruby: Yeah... Ah screw it. Jaune please don't get mad at me.

*kiss Jaune on the lips*

Jaune. I love you.

Jaune: W-what?

Ruby: I said I love you, you dork! I've been in love with you for a long time. I always wanted to tell you this but there was never a good time to do so.

Jaune: I see. Then I also have a confession to make. I feel the same way too. For a long time. I thought you don't feel the same way as I do.

Ruby: Well now we know. I just wish we have more time. To go on more dates, to go on a beach together, to get married, have kids and grow old togethers....

I don't want to die Jaune. Not yet. Not until we achieve our dreams together.

Jaune: I know Ruby but it's too late for that. At least we will die together.

Ruby: I guess there are worst ways to die. Jaune I love you and I hope we get to see each others again in the next life and the next life after that.

Jaune: Ruby I love you too. And I promise to always find you no matters where you are.

Ruby: And I will promise to always love you.

*kiss Jaune for the last time*

*flash*

Will make an epilogue if this gets 100 likes.

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punk4ndisorderly · 11 months

Text

babyfather

Y/N wants to have more babies. Her husband's infertility will not get in the way of that.

Y/N wants something only Quinn will give her.

warning: this series will feature smut. i'm not very good at it but i think i needed to add some spice to the plot. it starts in part 2, so read at your own risk, i guess?

the social media prelude

I - you really blew this, babe II

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t be. Y/N Y/L/N, eyes bloodshot and puffy face, sniffling, ushering their daughter inside. She wasn’t one to cry very often. Tears were only shed when she felt like her heart was being torn up from her chest. Or when she was incredibly mad. Normally at him.

Quinn considered his options, his right foot taking a step before he stopped himself from actually crossing the threshold of his ex’s new suburban home. They had talked about this. They had discussed boundaries. He was not to invite himself into the house she shared with her new husband. Not even if he was nowhere to be seen. He would’ve told that asshole Eric when he demanded such thing to fuck off, before staring into the eyes of the love of his life and see her begging him to indulge the child she was now married to.

Perhaps waiting for her to come back was the right thing. He wouldn’t want to cause her unnecessary grief, even if his heart constricted in his chest at the sight of her and he wanted nothing more but to clutch her to his chest and assure her that, whatever it was, they could get through it together. Even if they couldn’t anymore.

It wasn’t long before she was back, tugging at the sleeves of her large, well-worn wool sweater. Quinn was aware that she was avoiding looking him in the eye.

“Right. I know you have her next weekend, but I was think about going home to visit my parents and I know they really wants to see her, so I wanted to ask you if we could switch.” Y/N muttered, her gaze fixated on the small garden behind him.

“Yes, don’t worry about it. I didn’t have anything planned yet.”

That was a compassionate lie: he was going to take Willow to an animal shelter so she could pick a pet for him. Too many lonely, silent nights in his apartment downtown. His mom had been on his case about finding himself some company. Of course he probably meant human company, but beggars can’t be choosers. His last meaningful relationship had been with the mother of his child, and the other women that had entertained him along the way usually didn’t take long before realizing they wouldn’t around for long.

“Thank you, Quinn.” she smiled weakly, finally meeting his eyes.

“Is something going on?” the Canucks player intruded, staring intensely at the golden fleck in her irises.

“What?”

“You look upset.”

“This?” Y/N chuckled, pointing at her face. “Spring allergies.”

“Y/N.”

His stern tone told her more than any words could. He knew she was lying. He always did. She used to deny it broke her heart to be so much time apart because of work back when they were together. Assured him they would be fine and it was for the best when she decided their relationship couldn’t endure the strain and the stress of distance. Lies he pretended to believe because he desperately wanted to.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on?”

Y/N tried swallowing the lump on her throat away. It wouldn’t budge. She stepped aside, leaving room for him to walk past her and inside.

“Come in.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N.” Quinn said lowly, scanning her face for any indication of retraction. “Your husband made it clear I wasn’t welcome inside.”

“Don’t worry about him, Quinny.” the mother of his child nearly whispered, defeat clear in her voice.

He nodded solemnly, entering her house for the first time since she moved in. She hadn’t used that nickname in a long time.

Spacious, homey, filled with light. It had Y/N written all over it. Their daughter’s drawings framed and scattered around the walls made him smile, as the woman who used to love him led him to a crème couch, gesturing for him to sit down.

“Do you want tea?”

“You don’t drink tea, honey. That’s a trick question.” he retorted, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I always have it at home, though. Old habits die hard.”

It took everything in him not to beg her to choose him, right then and there. She used to stock up on all his favorite tea, even if he was never around to drink it. Made him a cup every day, before they went to bed. Mocked him for the scandalous amount of sugar he insisted on pouring in it. After all this time, she still kept tea around for him. Even if he couldn’t come inside to drink it.

“Then it’s a yes from me, thank you.”

Left alone in the living room, he could hear Willow sing loudly upstairs, her little feet stomping around on the wooden floor. The best gift Y/N had ever given him, up there with her love. Not being there when she woke up and when she went to bed every day ate away at his heart. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

“I nearly emptied out my sugar stash on this, so it better be good.” the mother of his child teased, handing him the steaming hot mug with a look of mock disgust.

“Perfect.” he praised, taking a sip of the sweet tea. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”

“You’re not letting it go, are you?”

“No, but I appreciate the effort at deflecting.”

She sighed deeply, sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Eric.”

Quinn tensed at the mention of her new husband’s name. They had been married for two years now, apparently happily so, but he couldn’t help but resent the man that inevitably had stepped into his shoes and shut him out of the new family home. The dark-haired man only had himself to blame for letting her go, but Eric was willingly carving a place for himself in her heart, replacing the memories of him, erasing his touch off her skin, bit by bit.

“I see. Do I need to call up on old favors?"

“If you had come by an hour ago, I probably would have told you to go for it, but I think you would only be wasting it on him.” Y/N chuckled humorlessly.

“Come on, don’t stall.”

Y/N looked him in the eye, hers brimming with tears. He wanted to reach for her, cradle her face in his hands, hold it to his own and whisper kind words into her lips, but he held back. Willow needed at least one of her parents not to be on the brink of crushing heartbreak. It was his turn to be the strong one.

“If you don’t want to talk about it it’s okay. I’m sorry I insisted. I was just worried about - ”

“I kicked him out.” she blurted, tapping at the corner of her eyes to get rid of stray droplets. “He has been lying to me for the better part of our marriage.”

Anger rose in his chest. How dare he?

“You know how I’ve always wanted to give Will a sibling.”

Yes. That had been all they talked about ever since they first found out about her pregnancy. She had to have at least one sibling. Y/N knew what it was like to be an only child and he knew what is was like to grow up with siblings so they agreed on it. But life got in the way and along came Eric, Quinn's dreams of fathering more children with Y/N crashing down in flames.

He nodded, prompting her to go on.

“Eric knew that as well, and he seemed to want a baby as well when we first talked about it, even before we got married. I told him a year ago I wanted to start trying. I’m getting older, Willow's getting bigger and now would be the perfect time to do it… He says yes. I go off the pill. We try. Over and over again. Everywhere. All the time. Even -”

“Okay, sweetheart, I get the picture.” Quinn interrupted, the details of her sex life with another man an excruciating form of torture.

“And we’ve been trying for a year. I’m not getting pregnant. With Will it took us a month. Something must be wrong with me, right?”

"No. Nothing’s ever wrong with you, Y/N.”

“Wrong. I got a doctor’s appointment. I am fine. Great cervix. Ovarian reserve? Excellent. All tests indicate I’m a very fertile woman. So I decided to book Eric an appointment at the urologist. The doctor’s assistant asked me if he had any problems after his procedure, last year. What procedure, you ask? A vasectomy, Q. A fucking vasectomy. After telling me he wanted children just as much as I did. After I married him. Before we started to fuck like rabbits so I could get pregnant.”

Quinn was speechless. How could someone willingly deceive her like that? Trick her into a legally binding relationship, only to deny her her simplest wish? How could he have let her fall in the hands of a man so careless with her heart?

“Say something. Please. I need to know if I’m crazy for hurting.”

“Hey.” the dark-haired man said, not bothering to keep himself in check and reaching out to touch her cheek. “You’re not crazy. I was just caught off guard.”

“Good. I mean, it’s not completely insane of me to kick him out for this?”

“Without wanting to sound biased, I would’ve done the same thing, Y/N.”

The mother of his child nodded severely, as if convincing herself. He let her think in silence, removing his hand from her face and drinking his tea. After a few minutes, her gaze landed on him, a hint of sadness and resignation on her face.

“How did we end up here?”

“I was a stupid son of a bitch and let you walk away. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it weren’t for that. We’d probably have three kids by now. We’d have to lock the door anytime we wanted some time alone. They’d gang up on us to get what they wanted, Willow would obviously be leading the troops. I’d probably be trying to get another baby into you at this very second.”

“Quinn…” she spoke, breathlessly.

“Don’t mind me.” he waved her off, immediately regretting voicing his wants. “Wishful thinking.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes prompt #quinn hughes blurb #future smut #hockey #hockey boys #team usa #jack hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield #trevor zegras #luke hughes #hockey fanfiction #quinn hughes fanfiction

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soulessjourney · 1 month

Text

Of Ice and Snow

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: He just can't seem to let you go

Warnings: ANGST (lots of it, I'm not sorry), death

The cool spring air whistles through the trees, dislodging petals from their place on the branches. The breeze carries them over the balcony and through the open doors where Azriel lies with his head resting on his mate's stomach. Your fingers trail through his hair as he inhales your scent, a mixture of lavender and rosemary filling his senses with each breath.

"My love, one might think you're a dog," you tease, running your nails over his scalp.

His only response is a hum as he breathes in your scent once more. "I can't help but find you absolutely divine so early in the morning," he grumbles, tightening his arms around you. A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your laughter. For once, Azriel feels at peace in his life, having finally found someone he loves more than anything, and who loves him for who he is.

You let your gaze settle on him as a shiver runs through you from the breeze. Though you want to close the balcony door, you find yourself unable to, not when you're wrapped in Azriel's embrace. "Az, you need to visit your family. It's been some time since your last visit," you murmur, noticing how he tenses and holds you tighter.

Shaking his head, he playfully bites your stomach, causing you to jump slightly. "I'll see them eventually. Right now, I just want to stay here with you a little longer," he says so softly, you almost miss his words.

"You can't isolate yourself here forever, Az. They're worried about you. They want to be here for you, to help you heal," desperation fills your voice as your fingers continue to run through his hair.

"I don't need them, not when I have you. You're all I need, Y/N. I love my family, but they can't help me the way you do," he says, sitting up to look down at you. A frown forms on your lips as you stand and settle between his legs.

Placing your hand on his chin, you tilt his face up to meet yours. "Az, it's been two years," you whisper, running your thumb over his cheek gently, catching the tears that fall. You don't miss the desperation in his eyes as he shakes his head at your words. "You need to let me go, my love. I love you more than life itself, but it's time."

Azriel inhales sharply at your words, feeling like someone has punched him in the gut as the familiar ache in his heart echoes in the room. "I can't. You were everything to me, Y/N. I can't just let you go," he sobs, taking your hands in his.

Azriel's thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on his bedroom door. Cassian pushes it open, his eyes softening as he sees Azriel. Azriel isn't sure how Cassian managed to bypass the wards that shielded their home, but there he was. "Hey, brother," he says gently, his gaze wandering around the room to identify who Azriel was talking to.

Azriel turns his head to look back at you, but finds nothing but empty space. His shoulders slump as he covers his face, letting out a sob. Cassian quickly pulls him into a tight hug, holding his brother close as his pained screams fill the room. "We can visit her. Maybe seeing her will help you," Cassian mumbles.

Azriel nods as Cassian helps him dress. Holding up the flowers, he smiles and guides his brother out of the once-happy home you shared. As they walk through Velaris, Azriel can't help but notice how happy everyone looks. He longs to feel that happiness again, the warmth that filled his chest every time he looked at you. Cassian leads him to the edge of the city, to the top of a hill where a large weeping willow sits, its long limbs hanging limply as the leaves sway gently in the breeze.

Azriel doesn't acknowledge his family standing under the tree, their eyes filled with pity. He despises it. He hates how they pity him. Brushing off their gazes, his eyes land on an object under the tree. There sits a marble headstone, your name delicately carved into it along with your dates of birth and death. He drops to his knees before it and places the flowers atop the stone. Feyre places her hand on his shoulder and squeezes it gently. "We wanted to do something nice for her. After all she went through, she deserved the best view in Velaris dedicated just to her."

Feyre's words bring tears to his eyes as they silently fall down his cheeks. This hill is where they would lay and look up at the stars together. The tree they would sit under during hot summer days, with you leaning against his chest as you talked about your future. His thumb caresses the stone gently before his attention is drawn away. "Papa?" a soft voice fills the air, causing his breath to catch in his throat.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees his sweet little girl, with your fiery attitude and features. The only indication of her being his child is the dark hair that falls just above her shoulders and her golden-brown skin. Wrapping her in his arms, he kisses her cheek and holds her close. He doesn't miss the way she looks down at your headstone, curiosity filling her eyes. "Uncle Cassian says this is where mommy is sleeping," she says quietly. "When will she wake? I want to meet her, Daddy," she says, a pout forming on her lips.

Azriel smiles and laughs, biting back another sob. "Sometime soon, my little rose. But for now, we need to let Mommy rest. She went through so much, and she deserves all the rest she can get," he responds, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

She nods and looks back at the stone, waving her small hand. "Bye, Mommy. Sleep well. I hope you have the best nap," Azriel rises with his daughter in his arms and follows his family back down the hill.

Turning back, he sees you standing under the tree, a wide teary smile spread across your face as you look down at him and your daughter. Clasping your hands together, they fall to rest against your legs as you give him a small nod. This is your final goodbye, and his promise to finally live again.

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petrichorium · 10 months

Text

Peaches and Cream

in which you rescue jing yuan from an afternoon of starchess

jing yuan x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k reader: mostly neutral (no pronouns, mostly neutral terms (one use of "martial mother" in jest), no clothing described) tags: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, banter, fairly suggestive, making out, peach eating, embarrassing the shit out of yanqing (sorry yanqing) note: part of the willow's house meet fruit collab hosted by @willowser. go check out all the other fics!!!

the boy’s hand freezes. his eyes dart up to you, questioning, and you sigh.

“he’d have won in three more moves if you did what you planned to. look at your cloud knight.”

“there, see? a lovely guiding hand.” jing yuan’s eyes glint when you toss your head over to glare at him. your fingers find his forearm where it rests against you and pinch him, far harder than you’d grant anyone else. he can take it—he only laughs and holds you tighter, smug. “perhaps the pair of you together can finally win.”

yanqing purses his lips, clearly holding back his temper when he says, “i hardly need help.”

“a wise soldier makes use of the resources he’s given. i’m giving you a fine resource, yanqing.” jing yuan raises his free hand to stroke the back of his finger against your cheek. “this one is the only opponent who’s beaten me since i became general.”

you bat him away none too gently. “he’s lying to you, yanqing, he let me win—which is why i will never play with him again, even through you.”

You find Jing Yuan and Yanqing precisely where you expect them: out in the garden, sat on either side of a starchessboard.

While you’d intended to pretend it was happenstance, you don’t bother when Jing Yuan sees you. His lips quirk into a grin immediately, one white brow raised in a knowing look. He’d been sprawled out on his side—waiting for Yanqing to take his turn, clearly, judging by how intensely the boy is staring at the board—but he straightens as you draw near.

It’s only when you’re close enough to touch his shoulder that Yanqing notices. He jumps, just a little; too comfortable with his teacher nearby, certainly, which has the very man chuckling under his breath.

Your lover beckons you over eagerly, hand patting against his thigh and sitting up even more. You consider denying him, just for the amusement of his pout and the inevitable chase, but it’d be rude to interrupt their game so suddenly.

Jing Yuan will do so on his own terms soon enough. It’s growing too far past noon for him to do much other than wheedle you into a nap.

“Darling,” he greets, half-drawled and full of affection as you stoop to join him. “Come to grace us with your presence?”

“The game was going on too long.”

He drapes himself around you before you’ve even settled, tucks up at your back, arms resting on your waist happily. You make yourself comfortable against his lounging body by bracing yourself on his thigh and busy yourself with the peach in your hand.

The paring knife you’ve stolen from the kitchen is small and simple, sharp in your nimble fingers as you slice into the fruit. When you pull the sliver you’ve cut free from the pit you can tell from the soft give that you’d chosen wisely.

Reaching out, you offer it to Yanqing, who hesitates for only a moment before taking it from your hand and giving a muffled thanks.

Jing Yuan’s thumb catches gently at your waist. “Look at you, a model martial mother. Feeding the body and the mind.”

You wrinkle your nose. “When have I ever fed his mind? Isn’t that your job?”

And yet you can’t help yourself when Yanqing reaches for one of his pieces. The low chastising click of your tongue is involuntary.

The boy’s hand freezes. His eyes dart up to you, questioning, and you sigh.

“He’d have won in three more moves if you did what you planned to. Look at your cloud knight.”

“There, see? A lovely guiding hand.” Jing Yuan’s eyes glint when you toss your head over to glare at him. Your fingers find his forearm where it rests against you and pinch him, far harder than you’d grant anyone else. He can take it—he only laughs and holds you tighter, smug. “Perhaps the pair of you together can finally win.”

Yanqing purses his lips, clearly holding back his temper when he says, “I hardly need help.”

“A wise soldier makes use of the resources he’s given. I’m giving you a fine resource, Yanqing.” Jing Yuan raises his free hand to stroke the back of his finger against your cheek. “This one is the only opponent who’s beaten me since I became general.”

You bat him away none too gently. “He’s lying to you, Yanqing, he let me win—which is why I will never play with him again, even through you.”

“Petty.” The word is whispered into your ear, low and husky. The glare you give Jing Yuan now is one of warning; he lifts his hands just slightly in surrender. The look on his face, however, is unrepentant.

If Yanqing heard him, or saw the exchange, he pretends not to. His eyes remain glued to the board as if memorizing it. And, sure enough, a few seconds later he’s rising to his feet.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” he announces loudly, making you giggle. Jing Yuan snickers as well, though his hands are preoccupied with your waist and thighs.

When Yanqing disappears from sight, you turn back to your peach. This time when you put the blade to its surface, you intend to taste it yourself; you let yourself look closer at the starchessboard before you and slice into the fruit absent-mindedly.

There’s a pinch at your thigh. Your hand stills halfway to your lips, perfect slice held loosely in your fingers—you snap your head over to glare at the culprit.

Jing Yuan, obnoxious, brazen man that he is, opens his mouth expectantly.

You consider shoving the knife down his throat. But, even you have to admit, that wouldn’t be worth the trouble of being labeled slayer of the oldest and most capable Arbiter-General, so instead you bite into it as you’d intended the whole time, maintaining eye contact with him petulantly.

The flavor bursts over your tongue, sweet; you watch Jing Yuan’s eyes fall to your mouth briefly and you go a little hot under his gaze, the way he leans forward slightly. At your waist you feel him hold you just a bit tighter before his hand—the one that had pinched your thigh—moves to trail up your side and then down your arm.

His grip goes solid around your elbow and pulls it towards him. Those golden eyes never part from yours as his tongue makes contact with your skin, lips grazing just barely as he licks up your wrist. Following your pulse, he pauses briefly to nip at your palm before sinking his teeth directly into your peach.

“Jing Yuan!” you shout, lightheartedly chastising, ignoring how your stomach swoops as he turns his head to the side and rips out a chunk of flesh. He snickers, low and rich; throat bobbing with a swallow, pink lips glimmering with sticky juice that covers your hand, too, messy and savage as he’d been.

And then he goes back for more, hand tighter on your forearm to stop you from pulling away as he bites down again, deep enough that he can yank it out of your grasp entirely despite your increasingly breathy protests.

“Brute,” you accuse with a pout and an attempt at retrieval that he artfully dodges. He growls for good measure, stupidly exaggerated, and tosses his head like a dog with a toy as you reach for the torn remains of your poor peach. The only thing you can get a firm enough hold on now is the pit, fingers delving into the mush that’s become of the fruit; the laughter in your voice is entirely unable to be contained now. “Down, boy. Drop.”

For half a moment he pretends to obey, loosening his jaw’s grip on the fruit until you can pry it from his mouth and pat the palm of your hand against his cheek in reward—but then he snatches it from your hand with his own, tossing it aside carelessly as he catches your wrist and tugs it forward to close his mouth around your thumb.

Jing Yuan’s tongue is hot against the pad of your finger. It’s meticulous, swirling carefully to clean the lingering taste of the peach from your skin. At first your attention lies solely on that, the purse of his lips and the occasional peek of his tongue through them. Then you make the mistake of glancing up and seeing the heavy-lidded gaze he’s giving you, golden eyes lighting up as you meet them. He hears how your breath hitches, you know; his mouth quirks up at the corners and he tugs you closer, just barely.

When he’s deemed the first digit cleaned enough, he moves on, tongue threading between your fingers, licking flat against your palm and at the pulsepoint of your wrist. Without realizing, you let him draw you closer, subtle and sly in the way his hold at your waist and those long legs guide you to crawl over his form until you sit straddling him entirely, watching as he draws your index fully into his mouth as far back as it will go.

Behind you, someone clears his throat. You whip around to find Yanqing standing on the other side of the table, boldly holding his general’s eye though his cheeks are a hearty pink.

“If you’d like me to leave, general, then dismiss me,” he says.

“No,” you start to say hurriedly, yanking your hand away with haste and lurching away—or rather trying to, because you only manage to kneel properly before Jing Yuan’s large palms find your thighs and stop you from very far as he speaks.

“Run along, then.” It sounds amused, and when you turn back to scowl at him the expression he wears is that of a teasing grin, but you—and, you’re sure, Yanqing as well—can hear the command behind it. Your lover slides one of those palms up your thigh to wrap an arm around your waist again and tug you back down with easy strength; you catch yourself on his chest with a low hiss, wordlessly admonishing. “It grows too late for strategy. I need rest.”

“But we’ve yet to finish our match,” Yanqing tries, halfway to whining despite his previous attempt at manners. “It’s hardly past two—“

“And you well know that afternoons are for napping, so run along. I promise you won’t miss anything interesting.” Jing Yuan pinches your thigh again hard enough to make you yelp. The glare you send is met with a heavy-lidded look, one which never parts from you even as he continues with his words still directed at his pupil. “Unless you’d like to stay behind and watch—”

Yanqing interrupts with an emphatic gag that has Jing Yuan barking out a laugh. You don’t hear the boy leave, but he’s swift enough that he’s out of sight when you glance over with the corner of your eye.

A good choice, because Jing Yuan is surging upward to capture your lips for real before you can turn your attention back to him. Like most kisses he gives you—especially at this time of day and sequestered in the quietest parts of his manor—it’s languid and teasing; a little messy, a little playful, entirely unhurried as he falls back and uses a hand behind your neck to guide you to follow until you’re pulled entirely on top of him, forced to brace yourself with your arms over his head.

He tastes like peach, perfectly ripened.

#jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #mine.🌧#char.🌧 jing yuan

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