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#he’s in his 20s but looks like a 14 year old
kisses4reid · 1 day
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red tissues | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,
summary - you get nose bleeds regularly, the alarming increase in their appearances gets aaron’s attention, especially when you wake up one day to blood covering your entire face for aaron to see.
genre - hotch x fem!reader, fluff
warnings - lots of mentions of blood, nose bleeds, mentions of being over worked, sickness
a/n - i’m going to open a permanent taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in every criminal minds fanfiction i write, so either comment on this or make a request that you’re interested! ❤️
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The office was buzzing with the sound of typing and chatting, pens being passed and chairs being adjusted. The night was surely coming, sun setting against the window panes to cast shadows onto piles of files. Your desk was dark and your pile was unfortunately much taller than everyone else’s. Funny how shooting a criminal earns punishment through 10 more files to fill out. 
But right now, all you cared about was filling your Snoopy mug with something. The coffee machine was broken by a certain muscly man, so some tea bags delivered that day were your only solace. Chamomile. Sounded tranquil enough. 
As you waited for your beverage to brew, you glanced back to your desk and then to your teammates. You should’ve taken Spencer and Emily’s offers to take some files off you, but being a perfectionist and selfless, you kindly declined. Shoulder’s slumping, you pulled the mug close to your nose and took a long smell, closing your eyes in relief. 
Suddenly, right before you could take the much needed first sip, a pang hit your head and your eyes and eyebrows ached, causing you to clench them. When you opened your eyes, the light brownish-yellow of the tea was mixing with red.
Blood. Shit. 
You swiftly turn to grab some tissues as your boss, Aaron Hotchner, was grabbing his plain mug from the top shelf, you hadn’t even noticed him in your panic. He followed you with his eyes as he grabbed a green tea packet. The tissues held against your nose were turning red and soggy. And before he could ask what had happened, you had abandoned your mug and vanished from the room, heading for the bathrooms. 
Aaron furrowed his eyebrows and noticed the discolouration in your mug, before grabbing it and washing it out for you. 
A few days later, Morgan and Reid were sat in front of you, JJ leaning on your seat’s armrest as Aaron conversed with a lawyer over the phone. Prentiss covered the basic details of the case but all you could focus on was the slight pang in your heart when you heard Aaron chuckle at whoever was talking with him. Though your eyes didn’t leave the case files, your ears were suddenly attached to your boss’ voice. 
Which was much closer, after he sat down next to you. 
You felt stupid, being happier now that his attention wasn’t on some other woman, even though his attention still wasn’t on you. He sighed as he sat, a whiff of his strong cologne circling the group as they updated him on other details they had caught. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a 14 year old girl crushing on her teacher, but alas, you would continue.
“We noticed all of the victims went to private religious schools, most of them went to church as well. Y/n pointed out how in all of their photos, they were dressed in a conservative way - which is a contrast when we look at their ages.” Spencer started before Rossi added,
“They’re all teenagers, nearly turning 20. They all had boyfriends, and we found that one of them was already engaged.” 
You listened carefully, looking at the faces of the victims that were spread on the table, “As well as the common religious commitments, they all had one other thing in common.” You squinted your eyes with a short breath, feeling a headache approaching before you pointed something out that nobody else had noticed, “Same initials, all of them.” 
Hotch nodded, “Amy Sanders, Alice Soo, Adriana Santiago and Alexa Smith. Nice work, Y/n.” 
But before you could reject the complement and internally squeal, a throb attacked your head, and your eyes scrunched to create wrinkles you would try to massage away that night, before you threw your hand under your chin to swiftly catch a drop of blood. It was like a 6th sense these days.
“Excuse me.” You croak, leaving the back of the plane with Prentiss close behind you. You bent your head back before the raven haired woman’s hand pushed it forward. “Don’t do that, the blood might go down your throat.” 
You followed her instructions and raised any eyebrow, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My niece used to have a lot of nose bleeds whenever she had a cold.” She promptly explained as she bent to pull out tissues from the white bathroom cabinets. 
Around 5 minutes later, you and Prentiss returned to your respective seats, no one but you noticing a strong stare following you. “Are you okay, L/n?” Spencer asks, squinting in curiosity. “Yeah, sorry, sensitive nose, that’s all,” you lied.
These weren’t the first times you’ve had nose bleeds at work or around the team. There was one on your third day of work, the second time you went to a bar with Garcia, and one time on the plane around 4 months ago. You had been lucky that all your other nosebleeds happened either on the way to work or in the comfort of your own apartment. These days, when each case was followed by a heavier one, and each road trip was followed by a 10 hour flight, you were starting to get exhausted. You’re body has decided nose bleeds was the indication for you to take a fucking break.
The next week, you had almost forgotten about your unfortunate trait until a certain tall man called you into his office. “I need those finger print files done by tonight, is that alright?” He asked, smooth voice cutting through your fatigue, leaning on the front of his desk only a metre away from you.
You glanced at him up and down. He was clad in a smoke grey suit, perfectly fitted to his muscles and wide shoulders, tie loose enough to show the amount of work he had been through that morning. He smelt amazing, like wood and petichor, like metal and… “Yeah of course, sorry. I put the victims confirmed profiles on Spencer’s desk to check over before I could finalise the um…” Shit. Why did this have to happen right now?
But before you could even excuse yourself or hold a hand to your nose, a soft hand was cupped under your chin, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch droplets. Heat was radiating from the near contact, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the eye contact you were putting yourself through, or the blood that was currently pooling down your chin and into his palm. Aaron had appeared so swiftly, you wondered how he knew. “We should really get you checked out.” He said, recalling back to your third day on the job. 
“You can check- You’re right I should get… your hand is getting blood on it.” He broke your eye contact and glanced down at his palm, before taking a breath and nodding. “Right, let’s get you cleaned up.” 
His other, clean, hand is hovering over your lower back, and everyone’s eyes are hovering over the two of you, following you into the closest bathroom available. You can feel your cheeks heat up. As you pass the kitchenette, he picks up the box of tissues and you try to grab some from his hand, but instead of allowing you, he takes your wrists and holds one to your nose himself. His grip is soft, but restricting, warm. And you can’t help but look at him as he searches for an empty bathroom.
In the bathroom, he guides you to lean over the sink, washing his hands in a sink beside yours while watching you carefully. You look at him through the mirror, and you’re so distracted you almost don’t hear him tell you, “Lean forward more, don’t pinch your nose too hard.” 
You comply and he crosses his arms and leans adjacent to you. “Do you know what’s causing all these nose bleeds?” 
You thought back to shorter than 5 minutes ago and bit your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “Um, I think it was your cologne.” You glance over to him finding he was already looking into your eyes. You were embarrassed, he was your boss and you were basically insulting him. “You smell great, don’t get me wrong. My nose and I obviously have different… opinions.” 
Aaron nods with a small smirk, compelling you to look away before you say anything more. 
Thankfully, saving you from any more embarrassment, your nose stopped painting the porcelain sink reddish-orange. “Thank you for helping me, Hotch.”
Aaron returned to his computer and opened a tab, searching ‘Common causes for frequent nose bleeds’, and, ‘Ways to avoid nose bleeds’.
And the next morning, Aaron walked into the office to get his coffee (the machine had been promptly fixed after your nose bleed situation) before Morgan spoke up, “New cologne, Hotch?” 
Hotch nodded, and turned back to his coffee, pocketing some chamomile satchels to dispose of later. The comment reassured Aaron.
He wanted to be someone you could be around without risking anymore red tissues. 
Aaron placed himself next to you on the plane, the team had gone over the case six times already, and the plane flight was long. It’s always been long. You opened your mouth to greet him before he cut you off, “We can provide a doctor for you, if these nose bleeds keep happening.” 
You blink in surprise, “I’m sorry they’re inconvenient but there’s not much I can do about it.” You bit the inside of your lip, unaware that your bleeds had caused anything negative other than a decrease in tissue supplies and unwanted attention (not including Aaron’s).
“I’m not saying it’s an inconvenience to me,” he shakes his head, “They’re an inconvenience to you. I’m worried it’s because you’re overworked.” 
Oh. 
You cleared your throat and avoided eye contact.
He continues, “You get to work the earliest, stay the latest, you’re always the one travelling the furthest when we have to split up.”
A smirk appears on your face as you finally look back up at the stoic man, “Sounds like someone I know.” 
“I make time, Y/n.” 
You wrung your hands in your lap and sighed, “I’ve had this problem since I was a kid, Hotch. My longest record between nose bleeds was three months, that's only because I finally found some medication.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “They had terrible side effects, it wasn’t worth saving some tissues. I can deal, is what I’m saying.” 
He nods and looks away in thought, that's when you allow yourself to look over his chest and arms, his posture and his… smell?
“You smell different.” “I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.” 
You couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner since what he said on that plane a little over five days ago. He changed his cologne, he offered to find a doctor, he listened to your reasoning. You thought he was being friendly. You wanted him to be a little bit more than that.
The plush seats and convenient seating arrangement that put you next to Aaron didn’t offer any comfort against the dry and hot weather of Nevada. If a place was your enemy, this was it. You had already concealed a small bleed in the drive over, Spencer not giving you a second look when you pretended to sneeze into a tissue. With the increased frequency, she didn’t want any useless worry. You weren’t going to take a break, so you needed to hide any signs of exhaustion as best you could. Even when the sheriff opened every window in the temporary office, JJ continued waving herself with a file, Morgan had already chugged three plastic bottles of water. Even Hotch only had a dark blue dress shirt on and damn did he look hotter than the sun. 
But even with your best techniques and play-pretends (never looking down for too long, staying hydrated, avoiding the hotter places in the precinct), an unfortunate pang hit the front of your head and travelled to your nose. Your eyes shuddered, and you started to look for a tissue, before one appeared at the bottom of your chin before blood even trickled down your top lip. 
It was Aaron holding it there, eyes on the case. 
You looked at him in surprise and awe, before you took the tissue off him and excused yourself, getting a worried look from the old sheriff. 
The tall man had learnt when you were about to get a nosebleed, a sudden stop in motion, scrunched eyebrows and eyes, stopped breathing. And as you left his line of vision, he tried not to worry about the amount of blood you would lose in this weather, and it motivated to close this case even more. 
Everyone around the table glanced at Hotch and then at each other, putting on blank faces when Hotch looked up. 
It wasn’t much better in the hotel rooms you had been given. They had aircon, and free water, but small windows, and broken fridges.
It was a relief to be able to sit on something that wasn’t covered in someone else’s sweat, even if it would be covered soon by your own. You had the coldest shower you think you’ve ever had, put on a larger t-shirt and a small pair of basketball shorts to fight against the heat during the night.
It came a surprise to you when you were blood free the entire afternoon and you counted it as good luck for the flight home, forgetting to place tissues or water on your bedside table. After denying an invitation to poker, you threw yourself onto the bed with crisp white sheets and soft pillow cases, in the direct shot of the air conditioning and only window in the room, and passed out.
There was a frantic knocking on your door, or maybe a pounding in your head. You couldn’t tell, and when you tried to investigate, you felt like your eyelids were sewn shut.
You were able to peak them open and lift yourself weakly, when suddenly a figure appeared in front of you with long blonde hair and soft hands on your shoulders.
“JJ?” Your lips felt tight.
“Jeez, Y/n. How long have you been sick?” Her voice was muffled, but as your vision became clearer so did your hearing. Hotch stopped in your open doorway, already dressed and bags dropped in the hallway, before walking in.
For a second you were going to try and stand to clean your room, realising how late it was. But as soon as you tried to stand, everything went hazy, and you could taste metal on your tongue.
“Y/n, we need to get you cleaned up.” JJ said sweetly, as if you were a child. She took your heavy arms and pulled them to the bathroom, light making your headache into a migraine.
You lifted a hand to the bone between your eyebrows, and when you took it off, it had dried blood on it. As JJ grabbed your body towel from last night and wet a corner of it, you stole a sight of your face. Your mouth and nose was covered in dry blood, some of it had travelled to your left cheek, and between your eyebrows. There was fresher blood on your chin and some even on your next.
You had a delirious thought that you had been stabbed, or you had stabbed someone, but when you looked out into the bedroom and saw Aaron taking the pillow case off of the pillow you were using, you wondered if you caused it to go from white to red overnight.
“What happened?” JJ asked, carefully placing her fingertips on the bottom of your jaw while her other hand dabbed softly at your face. You couldn’t answer, even though you had a fairly good guess. Aaron appeared in the mirror to hand JJ some pain killers, for you.
Swallowing was painful, but as your blonde friend wiped off the last bit of blood from your top lip, you looked worse than your throat felt.
“I’m sorry JJ, I could’ve cleaned myself up.”
“Don’t apologise Y/n. You worried me. You weren’t responding to your texts, not even Hotch’s,” she put the towel down and looked into your eyes with a motherly concern. “I think you need to listen to Hotch when he offers you a doctor again.”
And you nod, because she was right.
JJ left the room with a hug, leaving you with a very cross Aaron Hotchner.
“I’m-“
“You could’ve choked, or suffocated, or passed out- Actually I think you did.” He motioned towards your alarm clock that had been running since 5 a.m. “Y/n…” He looked confused, worried, sad? Your eyes hadn’t 100% cleared yet, a headache slowly throbbing, knees still slightly buckling. You wanted to lay down and be thrown into an ice bath.
“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” You croaked out.
“You’ve got one window open, cold and dry aircon on, and no water bottle on your bedside table. You should’ve asked to sleep in the same room as someone, in the same room as me.”
You looked down to your feet, only noticing now that Aaron had packed all of your things for you.
“I thought you had been…” He raked a hand through his hair and paced before placing his hands on your upper arms, “I’m going to get you to a doctor, and you can’t say no. That’s an order.”
His grip tighten only slightly, before he turned around and left with your luggage, heart beating fast in his chest.
You were back home, thank god. The air was cooler and clearer, and you didn’t feel like you needed to moisturise every two minutes. You stretched your arms above your head, squishing your eyes closed for some relief to the sting from the computer screen. Your chest expanded deeply, and your nose finally cleared. 
And when you opened your eyes, you glanced over to your boss’ office windows to see if he was still working. But he was already out of his door, looking at you. 
Butterflies played tag with each other in your stomach, a blush crossing your face and you both shot your gazes away. 
His shoes were nearly silent against the floor, but when you quickly stood to pack your shoulder bag and take the sweater off the back of your chair, Aaron was there to greet you when you turned around.
“Let me walk you out?” He asked, as if the last words he said to you weren’t full of unprofessional emotions.
You were silent for at least 3 seconds, Aaron getting worried for a second before you stumbled over your words, “Y-Yes plea- Yeah. Sure.” 
He smiled, a genuine smile. 
Side by side, his briefcase touching your shoulder bag, you made your way towards the elevator. Aaron fiddled with his fingers and felt unfamiliarly nervous, heart thumping a little harder than when he walked out of his office. 
“Thank you for everything. Caring, catching my blood. I would ask how you knew, but you are a profiler after all.” You smile softly, and he nods. “I’m glad you noticed.” He presses on the car park level in the elevator, hands coming to discreetly fidget once again. 
And you can’t take the silence, “You still smell good.” 
“You always do.” Aaron looks as surprised that he said that as you do, looking away quickly before looking up and sighing, “Tomorrow is Saturday.” 
“Yeah.”
“Do you have any plans?” 
“I have a movie I want to watch, maybe a recipe I wanna try,” you reply oblivious, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature when you both exit the elevator. Suddenly a thicker layer of fabric was draped over your shoulders, one that smelt like new cologne. You blushed, looking up at him. 
The cold breeze was pushing his hair out of place slightly, making his nose a little redder, his eyes clearer. He looked like the word handsome humanised. 
“I think that you should watch that movie and try that recipe at… my place.” 
You widened your eyes chasing any regret or embarrassment in his eyes, but all you got was nervousness, something you had rarely seen in him before. 
He is so handsome, I can’t believe this is happening, I have to tell Garcia- Can I tell Garcia? He’s my boss after all- I mean this doesn’t mean it had to be a date or anything- 
Some blood dripped onto the jacket draped over his shoulders. 
“You could’ve just said no.” He joked as you pinched your nose, smiling against the small headache. It must’ve been the last bit of blood from that morning. “No, I wanna go, I do- Just, could you get a tissue from my glovebox? I don’t want to get anymore blood on your coat.” You reply, nasally and carefully. 
“We’re definitely getting you to a doctor.” 
“Sounds like a fun first date.” 
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devils-little-sista · 7 hours
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Nico right after the war with Gea: man this was a bad war because look I’m only 14 and look what it did to me
Will checking him out in the infirmary: 14 years old?!?!?! *genuinely thought Nico was like 20-25 years old because of Nico’s defined features and no baby/teenage fat (he’s just emaciated) deeper raspy voice like someone who’s been smoking for 10+ years (his voice just dropped right before son of Neptune and he’s been smoking since he was 11 he grew up in the 1930s and nobody knew the dangers of smoking back then every adult was smoking 25/8 around kids too)(plus the acidic/sulfurous air of Tartarus made his throat and lungs even worse) and generally just looks like an old black and white photo of somebodys great grandpa from his college years*
Nico: yeah 14 years old and look- look what I look like
Will: *is now increasingly worried for this kid when he seems so way to old for so many reasons when he is only 14*
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charmwasjess · 3 days
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5 & 14 for the ask game!!! :D
For #5 A fic idea I'll never write
I'm only human - you think I haven't looked at those time travel fics and thought "god that looks like fun"?!
It'd have to be Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in their 19-20 yr old Arcane Hardy Boys era - probably Sifo-Dyas gets sucked into the Clone Wars for Seer Reasons and Dooku just gets dragged along because he won't let go of him.
But Sifo's been having dreams/visions of the Clone Wars since he "opened his mind" years ago, so he is READY. He thinks he already knows everyone. He's like "AW YEAH ITS MY GIRL AHSOKA :D GO OFF QUEEN" and like "Wait. MY Clones?? MY CLONES 🥺 <3 <3" And this is 20 year old happy energetic troublemaker Sifo-Dyas who hasn't had 40 years of psychic damage, lost friendships, and everyone in his life not believing him, so he is absolutely down for this shit, meanwhile 20 yr-old high strung perfectionist good boy Dooku "recently got in a fight with a tree over his Master's attention" Serenno is having an absolute meltdown, preparing to try to confront his future self in a doomed melodramatic duel.
Dooku: I became a Sith??? D: D: Sifo: ohh woww Dooku: wait why don't you look surprised
And 14 If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
This is a hilariously wonderful question from someone I'm actively hoping to art-trade for a picture of Sifo-Dyas in my future Milk Run sequel fic. I JUST NEED TO SEE HIM AS A SEXY PRETEND BOUNTY HUNTER IN YOUR PARTICULAR STYLE, OKAY? :D :D He's just too hot to live.
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Having a #1 Song doesn't mean SHIT anymore! It doesn't mean the song is a hit.
Let's be so serious rn. Nobody knows any of her damn fault track that keep charting. I asked my mom to name one song of hers and she could name "Shake it off."
Smooth Criminal went #7 in the US.
Remember the Time went #3 in the US.
Heal the World went #27 in the US.
They don't care about us #30 in the US. But it still went viral on tiktok. A song that is almost 30 years old!!
Thriller the song also never went to number one, but ask people to name one Halloween song they gonna name that song.
And what is more impressive, having 1M EAS the first day or still selling 1M EAS 15 years after your passed and more than 20 years after you dropped an album. Longevity is quality. 1M first day sales she's gonna sell that much for years. Hell, she be lucky if she even sold 50k in a year in 30 years.
5 music videos of his that are made in the 80's and 90's are about to have 1 billion views this year.
Billie Jean still gets 1M daily streams on Spotify.
I'm sorry if you aren't an Mjfan and I bring him up but he's the best example I can give you also because Swifties keep comparing her to him.
If people don't like the song they won't keep listening to it. And if Taylors song just stay in her fanbase and they just massstream her shit. Nobody is gonna know this song in 20 years.
Because what is the last hit Taylor Swift had that was known to the general public? Anti Hero maybe? Cruel Summer?
And something that is also funny is that, Remember when her drunk self got on stage and snatched the grammy from Celine Dion and didn't even look at her.
And people were pissed and her team was quick on working getting a picture with her to mend the damage.
Celine Dion has 5 Grammys and Taylor Swift has 14.
But they knew that Celine Dion got more respect from the GP then Taylor will ever have. And that is something you cannot buy. And they know if someone wins out of pure talent or just because of favourism. And let's be real. Most people know these award shows are rigged and they don't care about it.
Like when RollingStone came out with that fuck ass best singers list that put Taylor at #102 and excluded Celine Dion. People were mad that Celine was included but Taylor was.
Or just recently they also called her the better Adele. Nobody from the GP was like oh yeah that is true.
I mean they can try to name her the Queen of Pop in one of the award shows alà Michael Jackson style, but it's not gonna work with her. When he got that name people actually agreed and they still do. Outside Taylors cult nobody will agree with that.
Taylor's Team is aggressive with the Marketing and pushing these numbers onto us because they know outside of it she has nothing to offer. Her talent isn't marketable. Her singing and dancing isn't that impressive. The most marketable things about her career are her wealth and business success. Have they ever talked about her performance while she is on tour. What is so impressive what she does on stage? No they just keep talking about the money she makes.
No I completely get why MJ is a relevant comparison here. Swifties do keep comparing TS to him and for that alone they need to collectively get their asses beat. But you used good examples and I just want to applaud you for that
& you’re right, I can’t name a single vault track. Every time I’m exposed to her its against my will through my recommended (and its usually so out of place too because i watch really weird video essays).
Charts truly don’t reflect cultural impact because Drunk in Love by Beyoncé never went #1 and neither did Toxic by Britney Spears but both are super well known. Anti Hero is probably the last single to go #1 but I genuinely felt harassed by that song 😭 its sooooooooo bad
Yes! The vocal trinity—Celine Dion, Mariah Carey, and Whitney Houston—have done SO MUCH for music and all have less than half of Taylor Swift’s amount of Grammys. Celine and Mariah each have 5 and Whitney has 6.
I didn’t watch the Grammys this year (forgot to) but I heard about the Celine Dion incident I was SHOCKED because the audacity of this woman! Her entitlement shows in everything she does and she’s really starting to believe her commercial success makes her a better artist.
THE ROLLING STONE LIST WAS BULLSHIT. THEY DIDN’T INCLUDE JENNIFER HUDSON EITHER! Their definition of a “singer” was soooooooo bullshit too like that magazine’s merit has gone down so much in the past 20 years it should be regarded with way less status and credibility. And who tf called TS better than ADELE?
You’re right, her moniker will be chosen by the general public (probably from a viral tweet/tiktok/etc).
And she needs aggressive marketing because she really is a below average musician in all respects! She has her songwriting but she should’ve just been a hit songwriter (like Estelle Dean) not a singer. What makes her marketable is very “ordinary” image—which makes her relatable to “every girl, like me and you” 🙄 her soft voice really creates an intimate atmosphere especially with her vulnerable (but superficial) lyrics. She has to be friends with her fans for her success to work. Because there is no way you can justify her being regarded as a “god” the way people do with Beyoncé and MJ otherwise.
🎯 with the Eras Tour coverage. No one ever references or cites a particular jaw dropping vocal performance or dance number. It’s always the amount of wealth she’s generating.
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Arlecchino’s story quest just revealed how old Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet are. (Spoiler kinda)
Tl;Dr: late 20s
“I wish Genshin would give us solid numbers for character ages!” Sometimes they do. And those numbers give us ages of other characters too, if you pay attention. And yeah, I know the Genshin community doesn’t like to read, but you don’t even have to do much reading for this.
And let me preface this. When you go through this much work to “justify” characters being adults some people will say it’s just “an excuse to sexualize minors”. No. This isn’t even about that.
This is about me being absolutely sick and tired with the teenagers with careers trope.
First of all, what we know:
Childe is the YOUNGEST of the Fatui Harbingers.
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Childe woke up the whale when he was 14 years old, and that was 20 years ago. He is 34 years old.
Arlecchino became the Knave at 17 years old.
The Hearth siblings came to the house within a few months of Arlecchino gaining control.
Lyney and Lynette met a magician named Caesar who over 10 days, helped them hone their stage magic skills
Caesar died 10 years ago.
Toddlers can’t do street magic.
Honestly the last couple of points aren’t even needed, but they’re helpful to solidify this number. You’ll see.
Let’s do some basic Arlecchino math first.
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Again, she’s canonically older than 34, but if you want her and the siblings to be as young as absolutely possible, we can start there. (Maybe she’s a few months older than Childe. Idk)
34-17=17
Absolute bare minimum, Arlecchino has been the knave, and the siblings have been in the house for 17 years.
And quite frankly, I don’t think the “kids” were embryos when they joined.
But now that we have a minimum, let’s get a maximum to cover our bases. I’m going to use the serial disappearances as a marker here, because given what we know about her she would definitely look into that sort of thing. So she can’t be much older than 37.
So, when did the siblings join the house?
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First of all, let’s get a few facts from earlier involved. Cesar died 10 years ago. That means he died while they had already been in the house for 7-10 years (depending on Arlecchino’s age.)
And a widely overlooked fact that personally I think needs to be taken into account more often, is that TODDLERS CANT DO STREET MAGIC.
But I get it, this is an anime game. And for some crazy reason some fans are convinced that characters should be as young as they can possibly be.
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So let’s be just, the most generous that I could possibly be here and say those kids right there are 6 years old (anime 6 year olds don’t act like real 6 year olds so I’ll give you that), and it’s been an EVENTFUL couple of months worth of mastering street magic, trauma, and joining the House of the Hearth.
6+7=13 13+10=23
So the absolute bare minimum you are being silly at this point age for the siblings is 23, and depending on how old you think Arlecchino is, up to 26.
Personally, I feel like Freminet can help us out here, but we’ll have to apply just a teensy tiny bit of real world logic if we want to get anywhere. So,
How old was Freminet when he was sent to the house?
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Freminet was very close with his mother, he was incredibly skilled at fixing and building things, to the point where he would help bring in money for the family for a few years before he was dropped off at the house with the old Knave where he’d notice other children with depression who he’d seen kill themselves.
Now I ask you, does that sound like a toddler? If you’re going to look me in my eyes and try saying he was sent to the house at 5 or 6, when the earliest of memories are being DEVELOPED, you’re not just silly, you are high. There’s really only so much disbelief I can suspend here.
Let’s be generous and say he was 8 years old. You can still have your over developed anime 6 year old, but at least it gives a few years for him to have been tinkering and making happy little memories before the trauma.
Again, using the youngest possible Arlecchino age,
8+17=25
So baby brother Freminet is bare minimum 25 years old.
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In conclusion, let’s use those concrete numbers here to make an age range for the House of Hearth siblings. (I could absolutely give you my personal head canon timeline, yes. Will I? Maybe if you ask nice. But this is about cold hard numbers)
You’re absolutely fucking kidding yourself here ages: 22 for Freminet and 23 for the twins.
Low end: 25 for Freminet and 26 for the twins.
Reasonable maximum (the oldest I think they could be in the flashback is 13) 32 for Freminet and 33 for the twins!!
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dreamsy990 · 6 months
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fuck akuroku as a ship btw not only because its pedophilic because thats obviously a huge issue. but also i think we should be able to have platonic relationships with the same amount of devotion as any romance. not everyone who loves each other is in love DEREK.
#not trying to downplay the issues with it being pedophilic because thats actually a huge issue#context for my non kh moots#as of kh3 lea/axel is roughly late 20s#maybe early 30s depending on how old he was in bbs#and roxas is (physically) 14-16 (hes only been alive for a bit over a year#but also what i want to say#axel and roxas have an amazingly written relationship#theyre two of the strongest characters in the series in terms of writing honestly#their dynamic in canon is two best friends who at the end of the day just want to stay together#but due to circumstances and also a bit of axel keeping secrets shit falls apart#when you get to kh2 roxas is gone and axel will do literally ANYTHINNG to bring him back#he doesnt care about his own life or soras or anyone else who stands in his way because he is going to get his friend back#axels role as an antagonist later in kh2 comes from his devotion#he wants roxas back. he says himself he wanted to see roxas again because he made him feel as though he had a heart#in the end he gives up and dies to protect sora#and i think a lot of people take 'he made me feel like i had a heart' out of context to say its romantic#at face value its easy to interpret it that way but in context he goes on to say 'its funny... you make me feel the same' to sora#the way i interpreted it at least wasnt that he was in love but that both roxas and sora's love for others radiated onto him#if we look at days (i know. sacrelige for a kh2 discussion. fuck you) axel is constantly questioning why roxas acts like he has a heart#he straight up asks him why he does that and roxas is confused. thats just how he is#<- context for that conversation is that roxas is upset on xions behalf because saïx called her a mistake#what he means by 'having a heart' is feeling things and caring about things and there is no inherent romantic connotation#he means in the most literal sense that roxas made him care about things. we dont know what exactly that was referencing in kh2#but we can take a pretty good fucking guess#but lets look at com for a second because theres a scene talking about the other half of that line#axel goes behind everyones back to do something to help sora and naminé and after he does he is SHOCKED to realize hes enjoying it#and then he says 'you really ARE something!' about sora#at least as of kh2 what they meant was feeling emotions. roxas made axel feel as though he had emotions. he made him feel like he could feel#anyways. what im saying is axels line could be taken as something romantic but i think its more interesting than that#i dont have enough tags left to continue word vomiting sorry </3
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wonderlilane · 3 months
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trying to figure out ages in hoyoverse games feels like playing 5d chess at times these mfers can NOT design characters to look their actual age
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mejomonster · 1 year
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Oh no oh no Silent Reading au where Fei Du is an actual demon immortal or something
Finally, my man, you get to be older than Luo Wenzhou. By like centuries if not eons!
However! Despite that, despite god tier powers and strength, you somehow accidentally get poisoned and human mortal ass Luo Wenzhou nurses you back to health. Because of course he does.
Oh no I'm coming up with a whole plot. That demon immortals were ravaging Yan City in the human realm, and of course Fei Chengyu brings his little boy to watch and "join in" and learn how. And in the chaos of the city being ransacked, Fei Du's mom is killed by some human warriors. Fei Du collapses, cause it was right in front of him. Luo Wenzhou is a city guard, and he was also fighting the demons, but he stumbles into the scene late and only sees a child standing frozen unmoving in the chaos of swords and blood. So he rushes in and scoops up Fei Du, taking him to safety. And for a few days Fei Du is entirely in the mortal realm, abandoned, because the demons withdraw once they've had their fun and plundered what they wanted. But Fei Du is left behind cause no one thought he was taken to begin with. And all the humans figure he's just a newly orphaned human boy, like so many children after the recent attack.
Luo Wenzhou takes him home, and at first Fei Du is just catatonic almost, not speaking or looking at anything, just totally lost in the moment of seeing his mom looking at him before she fell. Then Tao Ran is called to help, because Luo Wenzhou needs to get this kid to talk and say if he has any family Luo Wenzhou could bring him to, and this kid needs to eat but won't touch his food. Won't even sleep. So Tao Ran comes over, and Fei Du starts absolutely thrashing. Kicking them, screaming, finally reacting. Because Tao Ran is wearing the same kind of armor the people who killed his mom wore. And Luo Wenzhou eventually holds him down, hugging him tight, trying to soothe him, figuring maybe it was the armor freaking him out - the demon soldiers wore armor when they attacked after all (Luo Wenzhou had been in plain clothes, off duty when the attack started in early morning). Eventually he gets Fei Du to admit that "the people who killed mom looked like that." Just glaring like a raging fire, desperate to consume and destroy anything like it.
Luo Wenzhou acknowledges the information, says a lot of people wore armor that day, says if the killer is still around then he'll find the monster for Fei Du. And that, that makes Fei Du's eyes light up with something more like the sun then just a raging flame, makes him look at Luo Wenzhou with a ironclad desperation. A silent plea. To please find them, please be able to, please help me make this even a little alright by getting vengeance for my mom.
Luo Wenzhou doesn't know the killer was a human soldier at first. Though he's not stupid, and the clues add up: Fei Du found among human soldiers mostly, the demons around his mother already slaughtered in the street. Fei Du angry in particular at the look of the human soldiers in the street patrolling in the aftermath, tense around them instead of feeling at ease that the demons won't surprise them unaware again. It would make sense to fear armor generally, but despite Luo Wenzhou's assurances these men are different, it doesn't seem to have any effect on Fei Du's disposition. The way Fei Du pushes him, any chance he gets to ask, which city soldiers were on the street that day: what were their names, what did they look like, what does he know or can he find out?
And Luo Wenzhou doesn't know, is looking into it, but the child's recollection can't perfectly remember the faces to begin with, and Luo Wenzhou has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Fei Du doesn't want to thank those warriors. He wants to destroy them. And Luo Wenzhou is dreading the day he can give Fei Du an answer of who they were, knows its peculiar that Fei Du doesn't ask at all about the demons who invaded and doesn't beg Luo Wenzhou to look into them.
And then, one day, as unexpected as Fei Du came into his life as an orphan he saved from a nightmare of swinging blades, Fei Du disappears. Perhaps he feels there is no way Luo Wenzhou can find the culprits with his limited knowledge, and Fei Du can't either unless he returns with more resources and better equipped for the task. Perhaps his father finally finds his missing son, in the dead of night, and whisks him away like a spirit in a tale.
Either way, Luo Wenzhou is beyond distraught. This boy he took in isn't dead with a corpse he could hold and bury, or taken away by some living relative he could visit, he's just gone. There's no trace he was ever there at all, except the cat Tao Ran gave to the child to keep him company when he was at his most withdrawn. Now the cat is only guest left at Luo Wenzhou's house. Luo Wenzhou practically tears the city apart looking for him, suddenly wild, brazenly accusing city guards of harming a child.
They have no idea why. But Luo Wenzhou has an awful instinct telling him Fei Du was scared of the humans from that day, not the demons, and Luo Wenzhou suspects one of them killed Fei Du's mother and may have even caught wind of the child left alive. Maybe it was all some political assassination, orchestrated during the unexpected clash with demons so that no one would be the wiser. Fei Du was certainly decked out in nice clothes, it's possible his mom was someone important, maybe even that Fei Du was some significant heir that needed to be killed off so the threat to another's ascension would be crushed.
But eventually Luo Wenzhou can only do so much. The year passes, then another, and there's still not even a body to find. He can't find Fei Du's mothers corpse either, he couldn't even back during the incident. He saw it once when Fei Du was standing frozen in the street, then picked up Fei Du and never looked back. Someone had taken her away before the battle had ended. But aside from that peculiarity implying something more about her murder than simply a civilian caught by ravaging demons, he could uncover nothing.
No Fei Du, not even a trace. The brat didn't even leave him a letter if he'd decided to runaway himself.
Years later, near a decade passes, and Fei Du finds himself visiting the mortal realm once more. For answers about his mother, again, but this time he knows so much more. He knows someone planned for her life to end, someone from the demon realm, and used the chaos of the attack to mask it. He knows his father brought his mother to the city rampage to make her witness it, maybe to torture her with unpleasant sights, but perhaps also to put her in easy access to harms way. Fei Du still isn't sure if his father was working in tandem with the perpetrators, or also caught by surprise. And now father is asleep, locked deep in near-death by a curse. And that curse seems to be spreading, down the line, starting to hit Fei Du as well. Someone is targeting their whole family, and he intends to investigate their sloppy first attack to find traces of them that will lead to now. That will lead to rooting them out and annihilating them.
So he returns to Yan City, now a young man, dressed like the ruler of demons that he is now with his dad out of commission. Draped in elegant embroidery and long fabrics, that don't impede him because he can simply fly if the drag becomes a burden. But he's not been to the human realm in so long.
The first thing that happens, is an idiot decides to rob him.
The second thing that happens, is he uses his excessively strong powers on the poor idiot attacking him.
The third thing that happens, is the curse that's seeped into Fei Du from the unknown enemy's machinations kicks in at his draw of magic, and he collapses in pain.
And that's when Luo Wenzhou finds him, now Captain of the city guard. At the tail end, only noticing a man with a knife on the ground unconscious, and an excessively luxuriously dressed fool on his knees coughing so harshly it hurts Luo Wenzhou's ears. It takes an instant to guess the flashy peacock was being mugged, and must've been hurt by the struggle, and while he held his own enough to stop the assault... he's now past his limit.
While Luo Wenzhou hates a rich contemptuous fucker, what with all the politicians in town playing their games for the throne and leaving innocent victims in their wake (like that child years ago he knew), he isn't so heartless as to not go and at least check on a man literally coughing up blood.
And so it is, that when they reunite Fei Du is being carried by Luo Wenzhou just like all those years ago. And when his gaze focuses on that face, now that he's not the child too stunned to come back to reality but an adult who could care less about thieves and curses trying to bring him down, he's stunned at what fate brought him to. Staring unshielded, unable to put a clamp down on his unrestrained reaction that he didn't predict would overwhelm him. When he'd already planned so many actions for so many eventualities, he never expected this. And if he could have, he wouldn't have ever guessed he'd find himself gaping and staring. Unable to shield his shock.
Luo Wenzhou bites his tongue about making a joke about the man in his arms being so overcome by a handsome face, but notes in his mind it is a bit peculiar the man seems so affected by seeing him. Sure, the stranger could be into men, but this is a bit excessive even for someone meeting eyes with a sudden inexplicable attraction.
So he just settles on taking the stranger to some inn nearby, that his heavy pockets will likely have the money for, and asking for some medicine. He'll at least make sure the poor thing stops dripping blood before he leaves him.
And the stranger is quite pretty himself... Luo Wenzhou wouldn't mind being invited to stay the night, if the stranger recovers enough to feel up for rewarding him for his kindness...
But in reality, this lovely youth looks paler than death and is still shuddering from the coughs. He's going to need Luo Wenzhou to tend to him just to keep him alive through the the night. Even if the man pays an attendant to help, they might prefer to rob his well adorned corpse over struggling to keep him alive for a pathetic salary in comparison to how much his robe must cost alone, never mind the pin in his hair! Only the noble and well intentioned captain of the city guard can be trusted to nurse this beauty, without being so overcome with greed they'd instead choke the life out of him and take what's left.
No wonder he got robbed as soon as he entered the city. Luo Wenzhou's not struggling for money, his dad would help if he were truly starving, and his best friend Tao Ran is the perfect ideal of the kind of pure hearted hero who wouldn't take a piece of gold even if he had not a grain of rice in his bowl.
So Luo Wenzhou isn't overcome with a lust for the fine things in his arms, at least not the nonliving ones. But even he can feel the undercurrent urge to rip some of these nice elaborate trinkets away from the fool, who's ostentiously flaunting at this point. He hates people so materially rich they can play with other peoples lives like toys, with no concern for the law or a societal standard of respect. People who look like this use others as they please, as if no one else is even human. And Luo Wenzhou can't stand those types. The fact he can barely touch them, even with the law on his side, and they even seem to revel in how much they can abuse even if he screams to the heavens all of their cruelties.
He wonders if it'd be too forward of him to change the rich stranger's clothes once they get to the inn, into absolutely anything else. Anything that will make the very sight of him less of a screaming beacon to everyone else around, to envy or hate. To attack, rob, bristle, suspect, fear.
The young man who was staring bewildered at him before, coughs a bit more blood, finally shifts to try and wipe it away or stop the dripping, and then faints at the effort of having tried to lift his arm. Luo Wenzhou blinks down at the frail fool of a damsel, wondering what on earth possessed the fucker to come to Yan City all alone without a single attendant or bodyguard.
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crqelsummer · 1 year
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wait wait wait what happens if the user for OFA dies before they pass it on
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rinniessance · 5 months
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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
2K notes · View notes
workinatdapyramid · 9 months
Text
august 𐐪𐑂
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steven conklin x fem!fisher!reader
WARNINGS: fighting, cursing, underage drinking, shayla isn’t in this soz, angsty teens lol, mentions from scenes in the books!, reader doesn’t like taylor, book taylor personality ( show taylor >>>> )
SUMMARY: it wasn’t belly that found out about taylor and steven, it was his best friends little sister
m’s blah blah blahhhhh: we need some more steven appreciation on here… GIVE MY SWEET BOY SOME RECOGNITION!!!
take a peak ;)
this is kind of long… i kinda got carried away LOLZ SORRT NOT SORRY
* .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・.
“twenty bucks she calls you jeremy again.” belly chuckles.
you, belly, and your older brother stood at the curb waiting for bellys best friend taylor at the bus stop. today was bellys 16th birthday which meant hurricane taylor visiting for the day.
you weren’t exactly fond of her ever since the summer she came to visit when you guys were 14. yes, you had to play nice with her for belly but stringing along your older brother jeremiah wasn’t exactly a good start to a friendship.
you chuckled beside the newly 16 year old as jere teasingly pushed her into you from his place beside her.
“i don’t.. i think she learned from last time.” he argued. “you think?” you teased, making a mental note that jere will infact be handing over that $20 before the end of the night.
“that’s how she flirts with you” belly mocked facing you as you both made smooching noises.
the bus pulled up infront of you guys, the brakes making a loud hissing noise.
“here she comes.” you say rolling your eyes as the short girl barely fits through the bus doors with the pile of balloons tied to her wrists.
the long time best friends squeal and hug reuniting for the first time since summer began causing you to roll your eyes even more.
jere turns toward you mouthing be nice
“belly you tart! you finally took my advice this outfit is snatched,” taylor spun the brunette in a circle admiring her dress. “isn’t belly looking like a snack?” she asked jeremiah a hint of something mischievous in her eyes.
“always.” the curly headed blonde smiled. he reached for taylor’s bag being the kind boy your mother raised him to be. taylor smirks batting her eyelashes up at the tall boy.
“thank you. you’re such a gentleman, jeremy.” she giggles.
you stood off to the side watching the interaction laughing to yourself knowing your brothers going to be $20 short when we get home.
“hey taylor long time no see.” you smiled offering the girl a polite side hug.
“omg y/n i didn’t even see you there, when did you get hot?” she questioned looking you up and down.
gosh this was going to be a long day.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
you sat beside taylor, jeremiah and belly across from you. a banana float melting in the middle of the table as belly opened her gift from her best friend. a pink bikini. jeremiah teased her about but you knew deep down he can’t wait to see her in it.
taylor takes a bite of the frozen treat as she said, “okay, so, whats the plan for tonight? where’s the party?”
“well, susannah always plans a big lobster dinner.” belly smiles as she puts the bathing suit back in the bag.
you and jere smiling towards each-other, being big fans of the birthday dinner tradition.
“boring. no.” taylor whines causing the three of you to look towards her with furrowed brows. “it’s your 16th birthday. we have to go out” the red head continued.
“no, no, no. these dinners are really, really fun.” belly tried to reason with her stubborn friend.
“yeah, and my mom had the idea to make it midsommar themed, so she got flower crowns especially made for us and everything.” you added taylor quickly glances at you then turns back towards her best friend.
“don’t you think you should be spending your birthday with people your own age?” taylor says taking another spoonful into her mouth.
“i am. you’re here.” belly said clearly annoyed by her bossyness.
“hello? am i invisible?” jeremiah cuts in trying to defuse the tension. he was really good at that. “and i guess steven.” taylor smirks. you shift uncomfortably hoping no one notcied. your brother obviously did scoffing at taylor’s remark.
you look towards belly, her already looking back. everyone in the house knows about your crush on steven the same way they knew about belly with conrad. ever since you were younger the boy was your prince charming. always being there in to cheer you up or piss you off but hey, that’s steven.
“and cams coming, too.” belly quickly changes the subject. you sigh silently thanking her.
“yay, i’m so excited to meet the guy who finally got you to take your eyes off of you-know-who.” taylor jokes.
as quickly as belly was to change the subject she quickly regretted it.
“taylor.” belly warned glancing towards jeremiah.
you coughed.
way to go taylor.
queen of making people feel uncomfortable..
“i have an idea. we can go to nicole’s big blowout at her place tonight. maybe go after dinner?” jere once again defusing the tension
you watched as taylor started at belly
“um yes!” taylor squealed in a matter of fact voice.
“woah, only if bells wants to go? it’s her birthday after all. we gotta do what whatever she wants. boring dinner or not.” you tell taylor not missing the look she gave you. you felt jeremiah lightly kick your leg under the table. you looked towards him. giving him a ‘what?’ expression.
you know how taylor can make belly feel like a side character most of the time and you’ll be dammed if you let taylor do that on her birthday.
belly smiles toward you silently thanking you for having her back.
“who’s nicole?” taylor asked jeremiah turning her harsh glance away from you.
belly smiles excited to fill in her best friend with the plans she’s made over here in cousins.
���she’s my big sister for the deb ball. she’s super nice and just really cool and fun and-
“ugh, i’m, like melting right now. can we go back to the house? i want to change into my bikini and jump in the pool.” taylor interupts belly looking at jere as she finished her sentence.
you roll your eyes standing up from the table as jeremiah says sure
taylor skips toward the car
jeremiah walking next to her as she called shot gun.
“come on bells.” you say putting your arm around her shoulders offering her a sympathetic smile.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
back at the house you, belly, jeremiah, steven, and taylor were in the pool. belly and taylor on one side jeremiah and steven on the other side.
you swam towards the two boys who were hanging off the edge of the pool deck.
“oh hey y/n/n you spying on us?” jeremiah teased. you rolled you eyes splashing him with the cold water. you hated when he called you that. stupid nickname that only reminded you of being a kid.
“stop calling me that i’m not five anymore.” you stuck your tongue out at him, he playfully did it back.
“yeah man cmon y/n’s all grown now. she’s not my little y/n/n anymore.” steven jokingly puts his hand over his heart in agony.
you dunk his head under the water in return, trying to hide your blush from him. it was moments like these where you had hope for something more. where you didn’t just feel like his best friends little sister anymore.
steven quickly comes up from the water his dark wet hair covering his eyes.
“oh yeah?” he challenged lifting you up and dunking you under the water.
you resurface hearing jeremiah and him share a laugh and a high five.
“oh screw you steve-o” you yelled splashing the boy who had your heart.
“any time any place.” he smirked.
gosh that smirk
jeremiah fake gags as your cheeks stained a pretty pink. steven always knew how to give you butterflies.
“we know you’re gossiping about us over there.” you hear taylor say causing stevens glance to change towards her.
as quickly as he gave you butterflies they were fast to be replaced with a pit in your stomach. you shift your gaze down as the two go back in forth with playful banter.
“let’s play chicken! i call steven!” taylor yelled.
you quickly moved towards the pool stairs to hide your frown from the others.
“i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help with dinner.” your voice barely above a whisper. the cool breeze causing you to shiver as you climb out of the pool
“you sure y/n/n?” jeremiah asks you, clearly noticing your mood change.
“yeah it’s fine there was an uneven amount anyways.” you grab your towel and head for the house not turning back
jeremiah turns towards belly, both teens sharing a knowing look.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
you sat on the couch of your second home sulking in your wet towel. mentally cursing at yourself for letting her get to you. you should be out there having fun. it’s bellys birthday for crying out loud.
your thoughts were soon cut short as connie, your oldest brother walks into the living room.
“hey dimples,” he says standing behind your seat on the couch, “why aren’t you out there with the others?” he asks ruffling his calloused hand through your wet hair.
you softly smile at the nickname. connie called you that ever since you guys were younger. oh how you missed your sweet brother
“taylors here.” you mutter pushing his hand away. he chuckles plopping himself down on the couch next to you. “aw, you mean your best friend?” he teases. “yeah fuck you” you shove him lightly chuckling.
“you can’t let her get to you kid. that’s just how she is” he sighs.
“yeah the same girl that hates you because you didn’t like her that summer she was like 14? that’s just how she is.” you roll your eyes doing finger quotes at the last part. connie laughs.
“why don’t you just tell steven how you feel already so you can stop sulking around all summer?” he asks.
you quickly sit up turning towards him with wide eyes. “you’re one to talk mr dark and mysterious. i don’t see you confessing your undying love for belly!” you challenge him reaching over smacking him with a throw pillow.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about… shut up.” he whispers.
you laugh shifting closer to your brother you lay your head on his shoulder. “besides he only see me as a kid anyways. i’ll always be just conrad and jeremiah’s little sister to him.” you sigh closing your eyes.
you stay like that for a while. just enjoying eachothers company. ever since april conrad’s been distant towards everyone so you miss having moments like these with your brother.
“aw my sweet angels.” you hear your mom squeal as she walked into the kitchen.
“hi mom hi laur.” you smile getting up from the couch and greeting your favorite women with a hug.
“do you need help with those?” conrad points to the brown bag full of corn on the counter.
“yes actually, we were supposed to keep dinner light but you know your mom.” laurel playfully side eyes her best friend.
“what?! it’s bellys 16th birthday.” she smiles. “and she’ll love it mom.” you smile back.
“wanna shuck these for us since your not busy?” susannah asked you and conrad pointing towards the corn.
“omg do you hear that? yeah i think bellys calling me. i gotta go hang with taylor and the birthday girl sorry love you bye!” you quickly run back outside.
“i’ll do it mom.” conrad rolls his eyes grabbing the bag.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
once outside you see steven sitting on the porch and jere climbing out of the pool. taylor and belly were probably off walking along the shore down by the beach.
jeremiah notices you and takes his leave inside claiming his need for a shower leaving you and steven outside.
“are you alright?” steven asks straining his neck to look at you standing behind him. "you kind of left in a hurry before."
you walk over sitting next to him on the porch steps.
“i’m fine conklin.” you laugh shifting your arms around your stomach. you tried so hard not to seem nervous around him but he could read you like a book.
steven chuckled looking away from you back towards the ocean. “okay.” he laughs. “but you could talk to me about anything. i’m serious i’ll always be here for you y/n/n.” he says more seriously this time.
you turn to him to see he was already looking at you. you search for something to say, anything, but you couldn't so you settle for a comforting smile. your breathe starts to quicken as you realize how close you guys were. steven noticed it too. his chest moving up and down at a fast pace.
“i just sometimes wish things were different.” you whispered half hoping he didn’t hear you but you knew he did.
“how so?” he whispered back. his gaze locked on your eyes intense.
for a moment you could’ve sworn his eyes flicked to your lips then back up to your eyes but theres no way.. right?
steven wouldn’t kiss you.. would he? no.
he just sees you as his best friends little sister. nothing more…
you're internally screaming as he slowly leans in
your eyes flutter shut waiting to feel his soft lips against yours
this is it.
finally
this is what you’ve wanted your whole life.
“oh hey y/n” you hear taylor yell as her and belly walk back up to the house.
steven quickly jumps up not saying a word as he rushed into the house.
you wanted to die.
just shrivel up and die.
you blink rappidly getting rid of the tears forming in your eyes and smile up towards the two girls.
“i’m starving! let’s go wash up before dinner.” belly smiles pulling you up from the steps and walking into the house.
it’s just one day it’s just one day it’s just one day
you kept reminding yourself as you trailed behind the hurricane pouring on your love life
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
the table was littered with plates filled with delicious food. there was vases of flowers in the middle that matched with the flower crowns on belly, taylor, and your heads. the dinning room was filled with chatter and giggles from everyone getting along.
susannah and laurel sat on opposite ends of the table refilling the hungry teenagers plates. taylor, belly, you, and cam on one side and jere, conrad, and steven on the other.
“thank you so much for having me susannah! my moms says hi.” cam, bellys boyfriend smiled holding his fork up to show his thanks for the food.
you laugh along with the others as the moms interrogate bellys first boyfriend. cam cameron was the nickname everyone called him. you liked him. it’s like he fit right in with the rest of you guys. you were so happy for belly.
“why don’t you eat meat, cam cameron?” jeremiah asked the shy boy. he tries his best to seem intimidating but ultimately cracks his signature smile. classic jere.
“i like animals.” he answered simply. not bothered by all the questions thrown his way.
you adjust the flower crown on your head accidentally making eye contact with steven. you guys haven’t spoke since almost kissing on the stairs. you intend to keep it that way not wanting to have that talk.. the 'you're my best friends little sister we can't do this' talk.
you quickly look away feeling the pit in your stomach return.
“just don’t come for my leather jacket.” taylor chuckles from the other side of the table. you genuinely laughed. she was kinda funny sometimes.
your laugh quickly disappeared once you heard steven teasing her. he just always had an answer when it came to taylor didn’t he.
you finish the rest of your lobster with a sigh patting your well fed stomach.
“that was really good mom.” you said. causing sighs in agreement around the table.
“i agree! thank you too y/n. kinda glad you went inside to help cook after all.” steven said looking at you. the first thing he said to you since what happened on the porch. you look at him with a blank expression.
jeremiah changes the subject going right back to interrogating cam cameron about eating meat which ended in him quickly pecking bellys lips.
you laugh but quickly glance towards conrad who was already looking back down at his plate.
steven and jeremiah both pretend to retch. “i’m sorry i just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” classic steven says embarrassing his little sister.
“i was like two years old!” belly argues
“two? more like six!” jeremiah and steven yelled at the same time. the two immature boys erupt in laughter.
you playfully roll you eyes at the two while belly yells at her brother to shut up.
“i remember when i visited last summer, and you and you dared him to pee in the fireplace, and you stink up the entire house for days. do you remember that?” taylor points towards your brothers and steven. you all laughed reliving all the memories this house held.
“you know i’m thinking.. maybe we should go to nicole’s party.” belly turns toward taylor and you smiling.
“yes!” you and taylor said at the same time.
boy did you need alcohol in your system after the day you had.
after a few more jokes and steven and bells bickering everyone decided to get ready for the party.
you were touching up your makeup in your bedroom when you heard a knock at your door.
“its open” you said not looking towards the door as you reapplied your mascara.
“hey little fisher” you heard steven say as he closed the door. you almost dropped the mascara wand. you turned around facing him uttering a small hey.
“i know we are about to leave for the party but do you think when we get back home we could talk about what happened on the porch?” you could tell he was nervous. he didn’t meet your gaze at all and he was fidgeting.
“but nothing happened on the porch” you felt a pang in your chest.
he sighed, “i know but that’s the thing..” he said stepping closer to you. “i wanted something to happen.” he finished.
you swallowed. “oh” was all you could say.
you guys stood there for a while. silence filled the room.
“i also wanted it to happen. so yes, we can talk about it when we get home” you smile. you can’t believe this is happening right now.
“okay.” he smiled
“okay.” you said as he turned around to leave your room looking back at you one last time.
once you were sure he walked away from the door you jumped up and down looking at yourself in the mirror.
“fuck yeah y/n fuck yeah.” you whispered to yourself smiling ear to ear.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
gotta give it to jere he always knew how to make a scene. you and belly sat on the couch hysterical watching cam cameron and jeremiah singing horrendously along to summer loving.
maybe coming to the party was a good idea after all. “i can’t stand to watch this any longer i’m gonna go find a bathroom.” you laughed getting up from the couch.
you squeezed through all the drunken bodies dancing together on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. you found nicole standing by the drink table.
“oh hey y/n” she greets you with a tight hug. “are you having fun?” she asks taking a sip from whatever was in her cup.
“actually i really am. you sure know how to throw a banger.” you said cringing at yourself. god why are you so awkward.
nicole just smiled
“hey um where’s the bathroom?” you asked actually needing to pee after all.
“the one downstairs has a line it hasn’t moved in ages so just go upstairs! it’s right to your left!” she said.
you thanked her as you made your way towards the stairs. jeremiah, belly, and cam standing near by.
“hey have you seen taylor?” belly asked you. you shook your head no. “i'll help you find her after i use the bathroom?” you ask. she thanked you.
the music faded as you walked up the stairs of nicole’s house. yeah the beach house was big but nothing compared to this. if you didn’t ask nicole where to go you definitely would’ve gotten lost.
you opened the door on the left but it was preoccupied by a couple hooking up. you quickly muttered sorry as you closed the door shaking your head to forget the sight.
you kept looking for an open room hoping to find one with a bathroom in it.
gosh how you hated horny drunk teenagers.
you opened the last door praying to all the gods it was free and had a bathroom. you were about to piss your pants.
you opened the door and all of a sudden the urge to pee was gone.
there in the room was taylor propped on the dresser making out with steven.
your steven.
he was standing between her legs. his hands on her waist as they made out.
your mouth was dry
you couldn’t process the scene in front of you.
you wanted to crumble to the ground and cry.
“conklin?” your voice cracked as steven whipped his head around to see you standing at the door.
taylor quickly hopped off the dresser pulling her dress down.
“oh, my god- shit” steven said as you turned around and made a beeline for the stairs.
“y/n wait!” he yelled as he ran after you.
you made it to the bottom of the stairs causing a few people to look at you running away from the brunette boy.
“y/n/n? what happened?” jeremiah was the first to notice you. you wiped the fallen tears from your cheeks as belly and cam also noticed you.
by then steven caught up to you. you went to run out of the house but was quickly stopped by him gradding your wrist.
“y/n just stop let me explain-
“explain what steven?” you yelled.
if no one noticed before they definitely noticed now.
the chattering around the house quickly stopped as you yelled at steven.
“y/n please. i’m sorry it just happened.” steven tried to plead with you. regret written all over his face.
you looked at him in disbelief.
“go to hell.” your yelled you voice broke as the tears kept spilling from your eyes.
you yanked your wrist from his grasp and looked at belly. mascara stained your cheeks. “i found taylor” you whispered before walking out the door. leaving steven there, carrying your broken heart along with his..
* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
AHHHH TYSM FOR READING THIS!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED ( pls be nice this is my first actual fic i’ve written! )
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visenyaism · 14 days
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ASOIAF POV characters ranked by how good of a guest judge they would be on drag race (definitive ranking)
24. Arys oakheart. spectacularly bad in a way that would also be bad TV because he simply would not know what to do. and would be icky about it.
23. Ned stark. canonically gets suspicious of people just because they are gender nonconforming.
22. Aeron greyjoy. people are going to wonder why i put him as Victarion on this list. this is because I think victarion has a better personality for reality TV.
21. Victarion greyjoy. good TV, would win reverse GLAAD award for most homophobic event on television.
20. Areo hotah. too stoic.
19. Quentyn. little nerd in over his head. if Barristan Selmy is telling you that you are not serving hard enough it’s already over.
18. Barristan selmy. a #ally for revealing that egg legalized gay marriage for his kid daeron and being happy about it, but does not have a lot else going for him. would probably say everyone looks nice
17. Bran. seven.
16. Joncon. IS gay, but does not seem like he’s super into all that.
15. Jon. Would probably awaken something in him.
14. Jaime. does not serve cunt, is one.
13. Brienne. Listen she’s trying her best okay.
12. Samwell Tarly. Would DEFINITELY awaken something in him. too busy blushing and telling everyone they look great to be an actual judge.
11. Arya. One thing about her is she WILL be finding people and she WILL be talking to ALL of them which makes her a great TV personality, but i think she would get bored.
10. Davos. Can’t explain this one i just think he would be down.
9. Cat. Serves, afraid to FULLY serve. Ally.
8. Asha. gets off on being mean to pretty boys so you know she is having a great time.
7. Dany. what can i say she’s a star.
6. Tyrion. definitely has the personality for it.
5. Cersei. is a fascist but showing up in full rhaegar eleganza to her husband who she murdered’s funeral. cuntress. You KNOW she would kill it.
4. Arianne. Definitely the first person you would think to ask to guest judge and for good reason.
3. Sansa. 13 year old fashion icon who loves gay people so much. Is so into it the whole time. meticulous notes.
2. Theon. could be the greatest to do it if he could ever get over himself but as it stands simultaneously knocks it out of the park and is a total train wreck. extremely fun to watch.
1. Melisandre. Serves like her life depends on it which she thinks it literally does. Obsessed with appearances and performances. off putting antagonistic cryptic and weird. fantastic TV.
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sometimes i remember the "kids" i imagine 2005 - 2008 people to be are like. actual teenagers. and not five year olds anymore. and i lose it a little bit
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azaarchiive · 15 days
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fanfic bakugou vs real size
sypnosis; katsuki finds you reading a fanfic about him
notes; suggestive, gn reader, fluff with katsukiii, long term established relationship, bakugo is a little ooc. 733 words
inspired by: @officialabortive (i tried to find the drabble but i couldn’t find it! anyways go show them some loveee)
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‘katsuki’s muscular arms trapped you in between him and the kitchen island, his hot breath caressing your neck before you felt him speak.
“do you know why i call myself dynamite?” he whispered seductively.
“why?” you meekly responded, slowly turning to face him.
he leans closer to your ears before whispering,
“because i blow my load in bitches like you.” ’
soon, a loud laugh could be heard behind you, ripping you from your very steamy fantasy. only for you to realise the man himself was behind you, laughing his ass off.
“suki, w-what the fuck?! you scared me!” you stumbled over your words, shame spreading across your whole body.
“i can’t fucking believe i walked in on my partner reading this shit! oh fuck, i’m getting abs!” katsuki continued to cackle while you covered your face in embarrassment. this was the worst way to get caught.
“i was just interested! i was online and i saw that this was apparently the dynamite fanfic that everyone was raging over!” you attempted to defend yourself, but your excuses fell onto deaf ears and the sound of his obnoxious laughter getting louder to drown you out.
“i just can’t believe this, baby, you have the real thing right here!” katsuki climbed onto the couch with you, leaning his arm on the top of the couch while resting his chin on his fist.
“i know that, like i said, i was just interested!” you huffed.
“that line was insane though, maybe ill steal it next time. would you be into that? me ‘blowing my load’ into you?” katsuki smiled, trying to hide your laughter.
but your shy smile as you looked away just broke any restraint he had, and thus, he was bursting out laughing again.
“oh my god, you liked it, didn’t you?” katsuki accused.
“no i didn’t!” you whined, playfully pushing katsuki who barely even moved an inch.
“yes you did, look at how flustered your getting!” katsuki pointed at your face.
“oh come off it!” you slapped his finger away, picking up your phone again and turning away to have him face your back.
“going off to read more?” katsuki teased.
you stayed silent, sighing playfully as katsuki (unbeknownst to you) widened his mouth in shock.
“listen… the writing is really good!” you defended yourself whilst laughing.
“it was probably written by a 14 year old girl!” he exclaimed back to you.
“no actually, the writer here just turned 20.” you huffed.
“im still in shock, you have the katsuki bakugou in front of you, wiling to do whatever you want, yet you chose him. the guy with cheesy lines!” katsuki complained.
“don’t be jealous katsuki, it’s just that the storylines are so captivating. like, in one of them, you were a barista and i was a ceo- can i please explain the storyline properly without you laughing?” you paused while smiling as katsuki wheezed in front of you.
after a few second, he nodded, covering his mouth to contain whatever laughter he had left in him so you could continue.
“thank you, anyways, i was a ceo and you were the coffee barista and we fell in love over time since i kept coming back because the coffee you made was always really good. but then, your jealous ex, which was me actually, came and told me that you both were still dating and that you were just using me for my money. so then, i fell out of love for you, but then, 2 years later, you had graduated from UA and became a pro hero and saved me, so then we fell in love again and got married.” you explained.
“wait, they include you in these little stories?” katsuki asked.
“yep, im usually the jealous ex or the supportive best friend.” you replied.
“these people are so pathetic, you’re mine and always will be.” katsuki said, lunging at you, trapping you in a bear hug.
you screamed in laughter as he trapped you in his lethal hugs, the scent of his cologne wafting in your nose.
“you’re right, i’m your forever!” you giggled in his arms.
“exactly, don’t need no fanfic to tell you otherwise.” his voice was muffled as his face was in his neck.
god, you loved this man and no other fanfic version of him could ever capture how he was with you.
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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(TW POLICE VIOLENCE)
France has been feeling like a police state this week, there were 5000 cops deployed in Paris yesterday (watch this video and tell me this is a normal amount of cops and they're behaving normally) and they keep acting like they have total immunity*, to beat up protesters, to arrest protesters, or just random people walking in the vicinity of a protest. My 70+-year-old dad tried to go to a peaceful protest and had to abandon the idea because of all the tear gas being used by police.
*Which they do—as Le Monde pointed out, the cops who are violent risk nothing because they can't be identified because almost none of them wear their identification number even though it's supposed to be mandatory. They're not being penalised for not wearing them, so why should they?
If you can stomach it, please have a look at the photos and videos on this Twitter account documenting French police brutality against protesters—as I write this, the most recent tweet is about a journalist who was beaten up by a BRAV-M cop* using his steel baton; he had his head cracked open and his hand broken.
(* BRAV-M is a motorised repression corps—cops on bikes—a unit that was dissolved in 1986 after some of them beat a student to death, who wasn't even attending a protest but walking near one. Macron changed the unit's name, from Voltigeurs to BRAV-M, and reestablished it to suppress the Yellow Vests protests. This week, a BRAV-M cop deliberately drove over a 19-year-old's leg at a protest after chasing him on his bike. The victim said he heard a cop say to others "Smash him." Another BRAV-M punched a protester unconscious on March 20. And today Le Monde published an article about BRAV-M cops being recorded bragging about "breaking elbows and faces.")
In Paris last week the CRS arrested a 14-year-old kid because they took him for a dangerous black bloc protester I guess?? A child spent a night in police custody without knowing why. They've also arrested several 15 / 16 year-olds. Let's teach the youth what happens when you exercise your right to protest!
On March 16th in Paris, within one evening, they arrested 292 people, and 283 were released without charges, which means they're mass-arresting people for peaceful protests as a strategy of intimidation. The student I mentioned in my post the other day, who spent 48 hours in custody and was eventually charged for refusing to have his DNA samples taken and filed, asked the cops why they were arresting him + 4 other people who were walking down the same street and they said "Because you look like fucking leftists."
The government tells us "We fully support our brave police forces" when the cops are arresting people for "looking like leftists." How are we still a democracy? The guy also mentioned that during the time he spent at the police station, the police was mostly arresting Maghrebis, though they made an exception for him, a Black guy. There are videos from the past week of cops beating up women, tear gassing protesters in the face from 20cm away, kicking protesters in the face when they're already on the ground, crushing their heads under their boot, brutalising a homeless man and old ladies, tear gassing crowds with young children in them. I'm having trouble finding links to these specific incidents I remember because there are so many videos circulating.
Look at this video, they're violently striking the back of people's heads with steel batons even when the protesters are already going in the direction they're told to. The little old lady shoved around and trying to protect her head from the strikes is breaking my heart.
Surely at the point when enforcers of state authority are arresting middle schoolers, beating up citizens for exercising their rights and gassing and pepper spraying elderly people, children and babies in strollers, the government might want to make some sort of statement condemning this state of affairs, but instead they have been telling us they're proud of & grateful for their police forces, which of course angers people and makes protests more violent. The Minister of the Interior, who supervises the police, praises them wholeheartedly and excuses all instances of deliberate brutality as 'isolated incidents' due to 'tiredness'.
Here's a thread in English describing a protester's experience—"Yesterday (March 23) the level of arbitrary police violence clearly leveled up. I was tear gassed three times without being able to move in a very dense crowd; policemen took advantage that people were unable to move more than 20cm to pounce on us and bludgeon us in a totally arbitrary manner." (you can see an example of this behaviour in this video from a different protest)
Yesterday, after a day of nationwide protests that brought a fresh new wave of video evidence of cops beating up protesters and making reckless use of tear gas—at the end of a day when a special ed teacher at a protest got her thumb torn off by a tear gas grenade—this is what the French Prime Minister said:
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They're not even trying to play it off like "both sides made mistakes" they're telling us they condone everything the police is doing, that this is what they're deploying them for:
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(screencap from this video)
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(this is from this video, in which you can hear a woman screaming "Stop it! You're strangling him! You have no right! I'm filming you!" The cops don't seem to care about being filmed. They're beating up citizens with the government's full blessing after all.)
Macron's government is trying to intimidate people into giving up their right to protest, by deploying cops in huge numbers and publicly voicing complete support for their behaviour, by allowing them to beat and arrest hundreds of people and to use tear gas indiscriminately. Tear gas has been completely normalised as a means of state violence, it's very practical that it doesn't leave traces of blood or broken bones I guess, but it's still violence, it burns, it's a chemical whose effects on people's health we don't know a lot about.
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^ Paris (from this vid; caption: "one tear gas grenade after the other")
Macron condescendingly told us there's no "magic money" which is why the pension reform is needed, but he did find the money to stockpile these apparently unlimited amounts of tear gas grenades to suppress protests against his reform to make poor people work longer.
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^ Nantes (screencap from a vid in which the cops throw three or four grenades at once and you can hear people say "oh come on, seriously? this is crazy. Why? go fuck yourselves" in a tired tone)
We've also found out yesterday that three Corsican MPs were pressured not to support the Assembly's no-confidence vote against the government—by being told if they didn't vote it, a teaching hospital would be built in Corsica.
The island of Corsica is the only region of France that doesn't have a teaching hospital; due to lack of medical resources Corsicans often have to travel to mainland France for healthcare. Just last month the Minister of Health said sorry, still no teaching hospital for Corsica, it's just not possible right now. Then last week some "magic money" was apparently found to build it but only if the Corsican MPs didn't support the no-confidence vote. I know this kind of thing isn't exactly unique in politics but Macron has been slashing hospital budgets to the point that 20% of French hospital beds are closed due to lack of staff, and he used the health of 340,000 French citizens as a bribe to save his ass. The three Corsican MPs ended up voting in favour of the no-confidence vote despite of that, as it was what their constituents wanted (honour to them). Macron's government survived the no-confidence vote by only 9 votes.
Whatever legitimacy Macron has as a President right now is being clung to by MP corruption and police repression. How do we move forwards knowing that, I don't know. How does he have legitimacy to govern on any issues after the way he handled this reform and the following protests? His police forces are drowning city centres in tear gas, a chemical whose effect on birds and other fauna is not known, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about the environment? They're wasting thousands of litres of water using water cannons to disperse protesters, and we're supposed to listen to him talk about low groundwater levels and how we need to save water? I was going to say, what about his legitimacy abroad but other Western governments don't seem too bothered so far by his handling of the protests—though I'm grateful that Amnesty International did condemn it, and that a Belgian deputy made a speech in Parliament this week asking his government to condemn Macron's use of violent police repression.
[Wait, I just saw that as I was writing this post, the Council of Europe condemned the "excessive use of force" in France. Saying that 'sporadic acts of violence' of some protesters can't 'justify the excessive use of force by agents of the State' or 'deprive peaceful protesters of their right to freedom of assembly'. This is the opposite framing as the one our government is standing by—sporadic acts of violence by cops that are either justified or excusable—it's refreshing.]
Between that and Charles III cancelling his visit (and lots of tourists cancelling trips to Paris which is bound to piss off the tourism industry) and our own media waking up and starting to talk about the government's brutality, I hope Macron starts being held accountable. He has been fanning the flames of this crisis at every turn, by telling us that the crowds protesting in the street have 'no legitimacy', by sending cops to break strikes even though striking is a Constitutional right (but the only part of the Constitution he cares about is the one that starts with 49.3), by condemning the protesters when asked to condemn police violence—saying "When [protesters] use violence, unregulated, absolute, we're no longer in a Republic." I agree, but he's describing himself.
When you resort to using article 49.3 to bypass the National Assembly for the 11th time this term to impose a reform that 70% of the country is against (and 93% of working people) that will force the poorer classes of the population to work longer, and your only response to people's distress at being told to work until they die is to force them to accept it by allowing your police forces to beat up protesters, to arrest them and to gas them, you have failed as a democratic leader.
The next organised protest and strike is next Tuesday (if you want to give something to the strike solidarity fund, here it is); in the meantime spontaneous protests are still erupting pretty much every day and cops are getting burnt out (good! There are fun videos from yesterday's protests of cops accidentally tear gassing one another, or a police car accidentally running into another as people laugh and clap.) And yes some protesters are getting more extreme and destructive, but Macron is the one choosing to stand by his reform at all costs and let this country burn. And when I look at what we're being expected to tolerate and to normalise, I'm kind of proud that French people's gut reaction was "burn it all."
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Some popular Twitter hashtags for the protests:
#ToutCramer - Burn everything #CensurePopulaire - People's no-confidence vote #MacronDémission - Macron resign #OnLâcheRien - We won't cede an inch.
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azsazz · 2 months
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Midnight Muse (Epilogue)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,783
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Masterlist]
Notes: The end of an era 😭😭 Holy smokes I'm so happy and also sad I cannot believe it's over.
_________________________________________
**Seven Months Later**
“Azriel,” you sing-song, bursting in through the open front door to their house. 
At the end of the spring semester Azriel’s father had bought 3rd Street apartments, and none of you had renewed your leases. His father hadn’t even tried to convince him to stay, but that didn’t matter to Azriel. The only thing that any of the five of you seemed to care about was that you’d no longer be living next to each other come summer.
Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian had found a house to rent on the outskirts of campus. Of course, the place is gorgeous, a modern number that looks like it costs more than Rhysand is making it out to be. He’d been adamant about the three of them staying together, no matter what, and he’d tried to convince you and Feyre to move into another apartment nearby, but it wasn’t the right fit for either of you. 
You wanted something more homey than the new building, something walkable since you nor Feyre have cars. You already miss your old apartment dearly, saddened by what Azriel’s father is going to make it into. Sure, the elevator was a death trap that stuck, and sure, the walls were thinner than paper, but it was home, where you’d found love with your grumpy next door neighbor, though you’re sure in Azriel’s version of the story you were the grumpy one. 
The five of you had spent your last night at the building together, drinking and eating your heart content in waffles and ice cream from Rita’s. It was the perfect last night to end your time in the building, but also the semester. You passed your Drawing 101 final with flying colors, the half swan portrait you drew was something you’d never thought you’d be able to finish. Now, it’s one of your most treasured artworks. 
You’d chosen the swan because of their representation of the awakening of the power of self and self-esteem. When you’d started the semester you’d been unsure of your ability in the creative world, but after hearing the stories of so many around you, Azriel’s included, it awakened your inner artist, and your work only grows more confident by the day.
You’d also chosen to morph yourself with the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others; Azriel’s gnarly attitude, Cassian’s cheekiness, Rhysand’s cockiness, Lucien’s snark, and Feyre’s hidden relationship, which didn’t last long, but still hurt your friendship.
You’ve come a long way since then, and are now in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in your side for months. Azriel is as sweet as ever now, though he still distracts you from your work these days, but it’s no longer with rowdy music.
You turn towards the living room where you hear Azriel calling your name. You come to a screeching half at the sight of him and Cassian, chests bare as they carry a couch between them, moving further into the room. 
Your eyes zero in on Azriel, his tan chest glistening with effort. It’s move in day for them and they’ve been carrying boxes from 3rd Street apartments all morning. He looks godly in the light spilling in through the large glass windows overlooking the yard. The parties at this place are going to be insane this year, of that you know. It’s all Cassian has talked about since they’d signed the lease, commenting how their housewarming party is going to rival that of Project X. 
“Hey, princess,” Azriel winks at your wandering eyes and you can only beam. So what if he’s caught you admiring his chiseled torso? He’s all yours and you can stare if you please. Although, the sudden dampness between your legs has you shifting on your feet, Azriel’s smirk widening. 
“Can you two stop eye-fucking for one minute?” Cassian groans dramatically, acting like he’s struggling under the weight of the couch. You and Azriel both roll your eyes at the same time, which makes you burst into giggles. “This thing is fucking heavy.” 
“All right, let’s put it over here,” Azriel directs, guiding them a few more feet into the room. They place it in front of the giant TV Rhysand splurged one, and you know movie nights are going to be great in here. It’ll be just like you’re at a movie theater, without all of the extra bodies. 
You and Azriel still have yet to break in the couch, often choosing the privacy of his bedroom (as much as the thin walls give you) over the common rooms he shares with his roommates.
Speaking of, there’s a thump coming from upstairs and the sound of Feyre’s laughter drifting down the staircase. So maybe this new house isn’t that much more private than your old apartment.
As soon as he puts his end of the couch down you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel laughs and swings you around before planting your feet back on the ground and leaning over to kiss you silly. 
The flooding warmth throughout your body only intensifies as he steps closer, pressing his body into yours and rolling his hips a little, allowing you to feel his interested cock in his pants. 
“Hi,” you grin when you part.
Azriel’s gold eyes glitter with amusement. “Hi, princess. How is your morning?” 
Your hands snake down his chest, brushing over his nipples as you go. You don’t miss his reaction to your touch and it makes you giddy all over again. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, your smile turns sultry, watching his eyes darken. “Much better now.” 
“Is that so?” Azriel quirks an eyebrow. He looks like he’s two seconds away from dragging you upstairs to his new room and breaking it in. You wouldn’t mind that one bit. “Do I want to know why you’re this cheery this early in the morning?”
“You already know,” you beam, rolling onto the tips of your toes to kiss him on the nose. When you try to pull away Azriel growls, tightening his grip on you. 
“You can’t say that and not want me to fuck you, princess,” he says roughly, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His breath is hot across the shell and you shudder in his arms, eyelashes fluttering at his words. You have to swallow back the moan threatening to escape.
You startle at the sound of a loud crash, turning to see Cassian all but glaring at the two of you, having just dropped a box of books to the ground purposefully. 
“I thought we were supposed to be moving,” Cassian tosses over his shoulder and yells up the stairs, “I can’t have both roommates fucking already. There’s still so much shit to move!”
“I’m coming,” Rhysand yells back and you crinkle your nose.
“Ew.” 
It makes Cassian crack, a smile twitching at his lips. He has his hands on his hips and is still staring at you and Azriel in a false stern manner. “I knew I made a good decision to befriend you, (Y/N).”
“More like forced yourself into my life,” you grumble playfully, following him out to his Bronco, stuffed full with boxes.
“Just for that, I’m giving you a heavy box,” he teases right back, but he wasn’t kidding because your breath is nearly knocked from your chest when he hands you one. It’s falsely labeled ‘Az’s room’ on it because it feels like there’s a pile of bricks in it. 
Azriel glares at his roommate as he rids you of the heavy box. You give him a smile in thanks, sneakily sliding out a box labeled ‘couch pillows’ instead. It takes you back to the day that you and Feyre moved into your last apartment, how the living room box had been the last one you’d brought inside before your very first—and terrible—run in with Azriel.
The smile you wander inside with is a nostalgic one.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
“Are you ready?” 
“Yes!”
“Then why are you acting like I’ve already put the needle to your skin?” Azriel argues, sitting back in his chair.
You’re laid up on the table, shirt pulled up to your neck, waiting for Azriel to put the tattoo gun to your skin. You keep squirming, not quite comfortable on the cold table top, but it’s the best he can do while he’s still waiting to hear back about his apprenticeship he interviewed for last week. It’s been a few long, grueling days, and you thought you’d distract him by finally allowing him to give you your first tattoo. It had taken you months to decide, and Azriel hadn’t pushed you once about the matter, no matter how badly he’d wanted to put ink on your skin.
Now, the sound of the gun is making you rethink your decision.
You sigh loudly and Azriel shuts the gun off, placing it on the table. He rips the gloves from his hands and helps you sit up, guiding your shirt back into place.
“Maybe we should wait,” he suggests softly, though you can see the hurt in his eyes.
It’s not that you don’t trust him. No, you trust Azriel with your life. It’s that you’re overthinking the design you’d thought you wanted so badly. 
“I want one,” you huff, sadly, “But I don’t think this is the one.”
Azriel soothes his hands up your thighs. “That’s okay, princess. There’s no rush. You don’t even have to get one, if you don’t want to.” 
“I do,” you whine in frustration. You had it planned for weeks, this idea, and now…you just can’t go through with it. It doesn’t feel right. 
You slide off of the table into Azriel’s lap, resting your head against his chest as he holds you tight. You let the soothing beat of his heart calm you down, the running of his hands up and down your back a relaxing gesture. It makes your heart swell, with the amount of love that you have for him. 
Azriel brushes some hair away from your face when you pull back. He’s studying you with those intense golden eyes you’ve come to adore. You can read everything in those eyes; his annoyance, his happiness, his anger, his lust, even his feelings for you, but right now, you’re not all too confident in what he’s thinking.
“I want to show you something,” he murmurs softly and you frown.
“Okay,” you answer tentatively, but his hand is sure in yours as he laces your fingers together after helping you off his lap. 
He guides you up the stairs and into his room.
“Azriel,” you tease, “I already know this room too well,” you say, alluding to his first night in the house where he fucked you over every surface in his room. It was pure bliss, one of the best nights you’ve shared.
Azriel puffs a breathy laugh and guides you to sit on the edge of his bed. You follow his instructions with obedience, covering your eyes when he tells you.
He waves a hand in front of your face to make sure you’re not looking. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Um,” your lips turn into the cutest pout when you think. “Two?”
He’s holding up none but he grumbles. “I was thinking two.” 
You bounce giddily on the edge of his bed and his cock twitches as he thinks of you bouncing on his cock just like that. 
“Easy, princess.” 
You stop your bouncing but not your grinning.
Azriel strides over to his closet, pulling out the canvas he’s been working on, when you aren’t around, of course. Well, he only dares pull it out around you when you’re fast asleep in his bed. It’s consumed him day and night, and finally, his masterpiece is finished.
“What is it?” you ask giddily, unable to rein in your excitement or the butterflies in your stomach.
You hear Azriel’s laughter as he moves closer. “If I told you, that would defeat the whole purpose of me asking you to close your eyes, princess,” he tuts and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes. “But you can open them now, Miss Impatient.”
“That’s my middle name—” your words stick to your throat as you stare at the canvas he’s holding in front of you. 
You’re in awe, struck by the lines so confidently drawn. You’re transported back to the night of his exhibition, when he’d shown you the blackest parts of his soul, put on canvas. 
Similarly to the centerpiece of the show, the charcoal drawing he has in front of you are two hands intertwined. His, with his rough scars, clutching tightly to a flawless hand, a feminine hand. 
Your hand. 
Azriel shifts nervously on his feet. All you’re doing is staring, open-mouthed, and he’d normally take that as a good sign, but when tears well your eyes his heart pinches in his chest.
“It’s,” you choke, pressing a hand to your aching heart. “It’s so beautiful, Azriel.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief, only managing to move the canvas out of the way when you launch yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He leans it against the edge of his bed and tucks you tightly into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. 
“Shhh, princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 
“I’m crying because it’s perfect,” you pull away and he’s wiping softly at your cheeks. Your eyes are red-rimmed and he hates that but he loves the way it makes your eyes pop. He studies them for a little longer, committing it to memory, something to sketch for later. “You’re perfect. And I—I love you.” 
His attention snaps onto your words, holding onto them like they could slip away like a shadow. You haven’t said that before, neither have you. And he’s been wanting to say it for so long now, was going to so many times but it never felt like the right moment. 
And it’s now that he realizes that there was never going to be a better moment than any of the times his lips formed the words, only for nothing to come out. He should’ve said it when he felt it because he knows you don’t care about the moment being this perfect thing, for fucks sake you’re crying in his arms right now and you’re telling him that you love him for the first time. 
He is such an idiot sometimes.
“I love you too, princess,” he admits in a rasp, throat thick with the words. He’s never felt something this strongly for someone before. He wants to be around you all of the time, wants to hold you and touch you and taste you. You consume him, mind, body, and soul.
You’re there, tattooed on his fucking soul, inked in the love he hadn’t known he was missing until you met. The darkness that consumed him was a starless sky, a void waiting to be filled. You. You are the moon and the stars lighting him up, brightening his days.
He fucking loves you. So, so much.
“Yeah?” you ask, your soft crying turns to happy tears, ones he can’t help but to kiss as they roll down their cheeks. “You love me?” 
“I love you, (Y/N),” Azriel says, “I think maybe I always have.” 
“That’s so not true,” you laugh wetly, trying to swat at his chest. Azriel catches your hand in his and kisses your palm, golden eyes gleaming.
“Okay,” he concedes with a grin, “Maybe not always, but for a long time now.” 
You shake your head fondly. Your eyes dart away from him in your sudden nervousness. “Az?” 
“Yeah, princess?” 
You look at the picture once more, admiring it. It’s utterly perfect, just like him. 
Pointing at it, you say, “That. I want that as my first tattoo.”
Azriel stares, shocked. “Are you sure? You know I’ll give you any tattoo that you want, but I need you to be one hundred percent positive. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I won’t,” you shake your head in disagreement and the softness in his eyes makes your heart swell. He looks like he can’t believe you’re real and you’re his. You’ll make him believe it and more. Later, you want to hear him say those three magical words while he’s pinning you to his sheets. Now, you want a tattoo. “This has to be the tattoo, Az. It’s us. I want us.”
He kisses you firmly on the mouth. Desperate.
“I want us too.” 
“Then let’s do this thing, Az. I’m ready.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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