#i miss putting my hair up sometimes but growing it out is a PAIN and i cant be bothered :'))

[miupow]

‧₊˚✩彡 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 /ˎˊ˗ 𝚌.𝚢𝚓 *ੈ✩‧

┆ rockstar!choi yeonjun x fem!reader ╰--⪼ one of the hardest things about dating a rockstar is the distance; when he’s on tour he’s thousands of miles away, busy and unable to call, and you spend months alone in a cold counting down the days until he gets home. but your boyfriend put some extra time aside to make a very special video call to his favorite girl.

. . . RATING ! NSFW, MDNFI! . . . WORDS ! 1.7k . . . WARNINGS ! soft dom!yeonjun, daddy kink, lots and lots of pet names, praise kink, sex toys, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, a little angst in the beginning

for @napofamoon's growing pain rockstar!txt event! this is also a little christmas gift for her and all of my followers~~ thank you to @taegimood and @wolfytae-exe for proofreading!

You purposefully let the call ring out for a bit before answering– you didn’t want him knowing you had been pacing for an hour, waiting impatiently by the phone. 

“Hey beautiful,” Yeonjun croons immediately upon you picking up, pretty bare face filling up the screen of your phone– he must’ve just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and pushed back, black tank top and flannel overshirt pulled on haphazardly like he had been in a rush… sometimes you hated how he looked so beautiful so effortlessly. It reminded you just how horrifically out of your league he was. “What are you up to? How was your day?”

“Mm.. not much. It’s been boring without you.” You sigh listlessly, giving Yeonjun a tight, unconvincing smile. “I didn’t have work today so Yunjin took me shopping– got some things for the apartment, some new clothes. Waited for you to call. I’m honestly more interested in how you’re doing, babe.”

Yeonjun gives you an apologetic little grin, eyes unreadable– it does nothing but makes you feel worse. At least he was aware he promised to call three hours earlier. “I’m sorry it’s so late, we had a show.”

“I know.” You reply, a little curt. Yeonjun doesn’t have complete control over his own schedule, pushed and pulled around everywhere he goes by both his managers and his other band members, bending over backwards for breaks snuck in between press appearances and shows every time he and his band were on tour… you’ve beat yourself senseless trying not to let it get to you.

“I’m sorry, baby, I really am.” Yeonjun repeated, voice low as he leaned in closer to the camera. “There was a problem with the sound system so our open started an hour late, and then there was a fight in the pit so we had to stop for security to kick them out, and then Beomgyu wanted to get drinks after the show and–” 

“It’s alright, Jjun. I understand.” You cut in, voice soft. Yeonjun gives you a look like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It sounds like you had a busy night… you always have a busy night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure things are real quiet when I’m not around.” Yeonjun gives you one of his signature grins, lopsided and handsome, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Missing me yet?”

He wants you to respond with some snide joke, lighten the mood– Yeonjun’s begging for it, brown eyes nervously flitting across your face as his smile cracks and splinters, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. “So fucking much, Jjun.” you croak, “I miss you so fucking much.”

His face drops immediately, his unconvincing grin giving way to one much more solemn and sad– it makes your stomach churn, unable to stomach the helplesslessness in his eyes. “I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.” 

“But when?” You press, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Conversations over ETAs only ever lead to fights– Yeonjun loved to make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. 

“Soon.” He repeats, his stare hard as he shifts on his hotel bed. “I’ll make it work. I’ll come and see you.” 

You knew he wouldn’t, but he was always such a sweet liar.

The look on your face must have given you away, because Yeonjun gives you a desperate, pleading pout, kissable lips pulled down into a grimace. It tears your heart to pieces. “Just bare with me baby, okay? The tour’s almost over, I’ll be home soon–”

“And then you’ll just go on tour again.” You spit, nastier than you meant for it to come out. The wide-eyed, guilty look Yeonjun gives you makes your heart drop to your stomach; you’re fairly sure you would have felt better if he had just gotten angry with you instead.

The sigh he lets out weighs a ton, settles on both of your shoulders. “Can we just talk about this later? We can talk about this when I get home, just– I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you too,” You reply in a whisper.

“I love you more than anything in the world, baby, more than this.. stupid fucking job, okay?” You had never heard Yeonjun refer to his career as a “job” before… you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Everything I’m doing right now is for our future together; if I pull this off right we won’t have to work another day in our lives, do you understand? It’s fucking rough right now but we’ll get through it, baby, I know we will. It’s all for you, beautiful.”

“I love you,” you repeat, voice wobbly with unshed tears. You’ve heard this speech a thousand times but it never failed to break you down, make your heart full.

“God, gorgeous, I love you too. My everything. My future. Enough sadness, yeah?”

Yeonjun’s gentle, soft words snaps you out of your reverie, reminds you of your plans before getting lost in your own emotions– you hadn’t wanted this call to go this way at all… in fact, you had wanted it to go a different way entirely. You nod and quickly rub your eyes.

“Jjunie…” you start, still semi-sad voice melodic and now charged with a sweet, playful lilt. “I got you something, when I went shopping earlier…” 

Yeonjun catches your drift fast, his eyebrow raising with a mischievous grin; he was always so in sync with you, always understood your wants and needs like he could read your mind. “Oh? What’d you get me, sugar?”

You giggle, blink away the tears as you smooth your hands over your baggy sweater, play with the hem– you scoot back a bit, letting more of your body come into frame; Yeonjun hisses in a loud breath when he sees that sweater was the only thing you were wearing.. “I dressed myself all pretty for you, daddy– do you wanna see?”

“Fuck,” Yeonjun breathes, leaning even closer to the camera. His pretty brown eyes are blown wide, lids low as he bites at his plush lower lip. “Take it off, let daddy see.”

You’re slow in sliding off your sweater, teasing as you tug it up over your thighs, over your hips– Yeonjun drinks in every inch, hungry eyes locked on your thighs, and he lets out a low, nasty groan from deep in his chest when you reveal to him your pretty lace thong. 

“God, baby, you’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, “Turn around for me.” 

You follow his directions obediently, turn your back to show him your lace-covered ass as you finish peeling off your sweater— the sound Yeonjun makes is unholy, deep and nasty and matching the grin on his face. “Fuck, such a perfect ass. So beautiful.” 

“I miss you, daddy.” you whine, turning back to the camera to show Yeonjun your pout. His lips are gnawed raw, shiny with spit and pretty pink as he takes in greedy eyefuls of your bra-clad tits, coos at you so sweet and condescending. 

“Mm, I miss you too, sugar. Go on; show daddy how much you miss him. Take that bra off ‘n show him those pretty tits, hmm?” 

“Yes, daddy~” you purr, quick to reach behind you for the clasp. You’re teasing in sliding off your bra, let the straps hang off your shoulders for a moment before you take it off entirely. Your perky nipples pucker in the cold air, begging for attention— you know better than to touch without Yeonjun’s permission, however. 

He can read you like a book, knows exactly what you need as you squirm on camera. “Go ahead and touch, my good girl.” 

One hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple between your forefinger and thumb; the other moves to rub your clothed clit in tight circles. you let out a breathy moan at the feeling, fight every fiber of yourself to keep your eyes open— you don’t want to miss a single second of watching Yeonjun. He’s breathing heavy, hastily angled the camera down to show you the big bulge in his sweatpants. He strokes himself over the fabric with the lightest of touches, teasing the both of you as he pants into the microphone. “What I would do if I was there...”

“What would you do, daddy?” you ask lightly, feigning innocence, pinching your nipple with a whimper. You’re so wet you’re soaking through your little panties— you’re sure Yeonjun had noticed. 

“God, I’d fuck you so hard. Dressed up so pretty for me, you deserve a reward, fuck— I’d leave those panties on while I bend you over and fuck you good, fill you up with my cum… you’d let me, right angel? Let me breed that little pussy?”

You moan high in your throat, hips stuttering as you continue to circle your clit, play with your bud. “Yes, yes! M-more, daddy, I need more!”

Yeonjun squeezes himself through his sweats, snickers at your fucked-out face. “Oh, baby… how about you go and grab that little vibe you love so much, give daddy a little show?”

You don’t need to be told twice; nodding desperately, you reach for your bedside drawer and pull out your favorite vibrator, thin and pink and powerful enough to make you scream. You settle back into frame, position yourself with your thighs wide apart  so that Yeonjun has a full view of your drooling cunt, the soaked fabric of your thong clinging to your lips obscenely. You feel vulnerable and exposed, and you embrace it as Yeonjun drinks in your form.

Yeonjun’s too impatient to tease you, giving you an affirming nod so you can start running the vibe across your throbbing slit. “Don’t take those panties off,” Yeonjun orders, slowly untying his sweatpants. “Want you to play with yourself with them on, okay?”

You don’t like the sound of that. “But I want my fingers,” you whine, pathetic, “want something inside—“

“Nuh uh,” Yeonjun chastises, pulling his hard pink cock out and giving it a stroke— you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you saw it again, cockhead flared and dripping precum. “Listen to daddy, baby. Nothing goes in that cunt except my cock, you hear me? Be patient— I’ll fill you up when I come home.”  

And it isn’t until after he’s made you cum in your panties, vibrator on your clit and fingers on your nipples, that he explains why; he has a surprise for you too. 

The rest of the tour was canceled. He’s coming home.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt ff #txt fanfic #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun smut #nightly.nsfw #nightly.jjunie #txt x you #txt x y/n

[luveline]

Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less. 

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust. 

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed. 

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks. 

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later." 

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous.  "He's so nice," you say. 

"No, he's not." 

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something." 

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy." 

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds. 

"I'm actually making myself feel sick." 

"I can wear a different coat if it–" 

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks." 

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?" 

"I'm good with the kids." 

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone." 

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say." 

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you." 

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure. 

"First, underwear." 

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much." 

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself. 

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks. 

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?" 

"I wanna smoke these so bad." 

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings." 

"Weirdo." 

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off. 

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind. 

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose. 

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth. 

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again." 

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go." 

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted. 

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy. 

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse. 

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[fxdizz-y]

GHOST X GEN Z + GN!READER

A/N: Hiii first fanfic on tumblr kinda nervous😣 I'm not going to take request just yet this is all for my cravings💀🙏🙏 I'd love if you teach me scottish slang too!

Pairing: (mainly) Ghost x gn!reader || slight Task Force 141 x gn!reader

C/W: Strong language, age gap, fluff, kinda suggestive flirts, Ghost being a boomer, dark humor, no use of Y/N, your call sign is 'Spring' (the metal one), teasing, not in the same timeline as the game, they simping hard for each other

T/W: unhealthy habits (skin peeling around the nails etc)

(Don't mind the song I just listen to it while writing)

『••✎••』

Your life was dull, nothing seems to made you excited anymore. Don't get you wrong, you have an okay childhood, even though you had force yourself to grow up at some point but you didn't mind all that much.

Not like you ever did, you're that 'nice' kid that let people borrow their belongings and seems to don't hold grudges.

But in truth, you weren't that nice. No, you did hold grudges, the only reason you didn't say anything was because you knew that it'll be pointless to argue and you just over all wasn't a social kid.

When you finally hit off to high school, you instantly realized that it'll be hell.

And you weren't wrong.

You were one of those alt kids that wear band shirts and heavy eyeliners. Admittedly it was kind of fun.. But the bullying just drove you to the edge.

But those were memories in the past.

You're 23 now, fidgeting your fingers and scraping the dead skins on your nails, standing next to a woman with dirty blonde short hair.

Her icy blue eyes stare right ahead of you both. She had introduced herself earlier, her name is Kate Laswell.

You both were waiting for some dude to show up, apparently he's supposed to come and get you so you can officially be in his little group.

After what feels like years, a man finally make his way to you, or more likely, Laswell.

– "Price."

Laswell said, turning towards the man, you took a step behind Laswell, hiding yourself from the taller male.

– "Laswell."

The man greeted, before continue.

– "And where is this rookie?"

'Price' ask, his eyes scanning the room. Laswell scoff and give your back a harsh pat, making you step out of her shadow.

– "Price, this is Spring."

– "What."

Price look at you and back at Laswell, clearly hoping this was some sorts of joke.

Unluckily, Laswell eyes tell the truth.

– "For fuck sake, that's literally an INFANT! "

Price exclaim, gesturing towards you while keeping his eyes on Laswell.

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes, keeping your composure.

– "Where the fuck is your manners? You either take them or have troubles missing a skilled hacker."

Laswell snaps, glaring at Price.

The corner of your lips tug up at that, feeling happy and flustered.

Price groans and turns to you, looking at you up and down, judging you hard.

– "Oh my fuckin.. You know I can't just put a baby with the toddlers, the big boys can be mean sometimes."

– "The baby are the meanest, trust me."

Laswell sigh out, pushing you towards the captain.

Price sigh in defeat, before just nod at Laswell.

– "I'll take them"

He grumble before mentioning you to go outside, which you obeyed.

When you made it outside you wait for the captain, which come after you after a few moment.

He gesture to the car and you sat on the backseat.

He quirk a brow up but didn't question it.

The way to your new base felt like forever, especially when none of you decide to talk. So being you, you hums to yourself to MCR.

You were into your own little world and didn't noticed how Price glance at the mirror sometimes to look at you.

He didn't speak of course, just silently observing and quite enjoy this rather than painful silence.

After quite some time the car park at an unfamiliar base, well to you anyways.

You scrambled out the car and went back to fidgeting your fingers, scrapping and peeling off the skin around the nail etc.

Price glance at you and pat your shoulder, a quiet sign for you to follow.

You follow without hesitation, stuffing your hands in your camo pants pocket and let your eyes wander around the place, taking mental notes on which path leads to where since you figured you'll be staying here for awhile.

Each steps you take only make your excitement grows, something that you haven't felt this strong for ages.

Your eyes sparkle with wonders like a child again and you have a great feeling about this, despite your captain bad first impression.

You both walk into a room and the captain told you that your team would be meeting you when they arrive, so you sit on the small locker and swinging your legs, feeling nervous.

You didn't let your mind wandered for too long when the door swing open and 3 men walks in.

And good grief.

They were huge. And you didn't mean it in the dirty way.

Like literally. Especially the one in the back. Despite being behind the two other men you can clearly tell that he's the tallest and the biggest, his skull mask stands out as his eyes stare right into you, you feel absolutely fucking naked under them.

Price motion for you to get down and as you hop down you could almost feel your knees gave up.

– "Hello sailor.."

You mumbled, eyes glued to the tallest man in the room. You could tell that he's about 6'2" and a half.

Luckily Price didn't heard what you just mumbled and continue on introducing you to the team.

You smile cheapishly at all of them, deciding that it was enough eye candy.

– "Aye Rookie?"

A man with faux haircut call you, whom recently introduced himself as Soap wink at you playfully.

– "Name's Spring, sir."

You said, winking back, returning the energy.

– "What's with the name?"

Gaz ask, patting your back.

– "I can do em big jump, sir!"

You exclaim proudly.

Gaz look at you with mischief in his eyes, despite being older you can already tell this guy means good trouble.

Soap, who's probably the closest to your age sling his arm over your shoulder.

– "How 'bout yer show us hm?"

He said, letting his arm fall from your shoulder.

You nod and looking around, looking for a perfect thing you can jump on.

Before it lands on one and only Lieutenant.

Soap immediately notice and give you an unsure stare, knowing how Ghost hate physical touches.

– "Lieutenant?"

You call out, a fuzzy feeling form on your stomach.

And it explode into thousands butterflies when his eyes snaps to you, before they turns gentle.

It may look like he's glaring down at you but you both know that if you look close enough, you'd see the soft, gentleness in it. As if he's being careful to not scare you away. Or maybe it's your imagination.

You sure hope it's fucking not.

Ghost couldn't even believe it. He doesn't believe in this whole love at first sight deal. Just ridiculous.

And ironic isn't it, Lieutenant?

He wasn't listening to your chit chats before so when a soft voice calls out for him he was surprised.

And he craves more of your voice. He wanna hear you say his name.

And god you're so tiny standing in front of him.

You look so.. So fragile to him.

– "Uhm.. Sir?"

You call out again, slowly placing a hand on his arm, fucking desperate to get his attention back.

You definitely awoken something in him with that.

And you knew it when you can feel him tense up.

Ghost focus back on you again, nodding for you to do whatever you want.

Soap and Gaz was FLABBERGASTED.

L.T being soft? Man they whish they could record this right now.

But that'll be a dead wish.

You jog behind him, before running up to him and jump high. And holy shit.

You didn't lie.

You could almost jump over him.

But you didn't since there wasn't enough space, instead you land on his shoulder.

You would be concern for the neck you could broke but you weren't in your gears so you weren't heavy.

You cheers when you land on him, almost sending him to the floor.

He pause. Unsure how to feel.

#ghost call of duty #ghost riley #mw2 x reader #simon riley #call of duty x reader #x reader #gen z!reader #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #gender neautral reader #Spotify

[genshin-obsessed]

Illusion | Lyney x Reader

My friend and I were talking and it's about time for some angst anyway sooo ^w^ here we are.

Summary: His love for you is endless, boundless, and terrifying, so he created an illusion to cope with it. Word count: 876 warning: angst

Lyney was the master of illusion, he and his sister Lynette could fool anyone and everyone, save for those in their circle. Lyney's tricks were based on distracting and sleight of hand. He'd practiced it over and over in the years he'd been a magician but there was one trick he just couldn't perfect.

Making his feelings for you disappear.

Lyney hadn't actually known you for all that long, maybe just over a year or so. Yet, his heart pounded in his chest whenever he saw you. He shivered whenever you laughed, and he smiled whenever you touched him. So, what did Lyney do? He flirted because it was fun.

He loved watching your face get flustered when he threw out cute pickup lines or just complimented you. There was this rush of excitement he felt whenever you looked away shyly, your cheeks slightly red, and a soft smile on your lips. He didn't think it could be this addicting and there was a very good reason for that. Lyney had never been in love before, so he didn't realize how easily someone could develop feelings for another.

But one day he realized he maybe went too far when you asked him if he was attracted to you. Lyney just froze up. The thought seemed so sweet and attractive but there was something that made it all come crashing down. His background as a fatui. Lyney wasn't a bad guy, but that didn't mean he was safe to be around all the time. He and his siblings took on all sorts of troublesome tasks that sometimes came back to haunt them. He could never possibly put you in harm's way.

So there was a new problem- aside from these growing feelings. You seemed... interested. Lyney was no master of love, but he could pick up a few signs and interpret them. But he couldn't do it. He never outright admitted he was attracted to you. Whenever you asked, he'd just laugh and change the subject or just give you a wink and say it was a secret.

Truth be told, Lyney never admitted it- not even to himself late at night when he was completely alone. The idea of admitting he was so in love with someone that they could tell him to do anything and he just might was paralyzing. With every passing interaction, Lyney would feel his heart squeeze in pain if you experienced any sort of discomfort. Why couldn't someone as perfect and pure as you just be happy? He wasn't about to go insane and start stabbing people, no way, but whoever upset you was someone he just found himself disliking.

~**~

Lyney rolled over in his bed, his eyes shifting over to the window not too far away. He couldn't sleep. It was late at night and he was plagued with thoughts of you. Sitting up, he rubbed his face before looking down at his blanket. It was happening again... you were in his head.

Lyney had seen you earlier today and you looked so beautiful. The way you styled your hair, the clothes you wore, how the color suited you, just... it was nice to witness. Even if it was hours ago, your smile and laughter were replaying in his mind over and over. He could still recall your flushed cheeks and the shy movements of your gaze that would flicker away then back at him.

A pale hand pressed against his chest, feeling his beating heart. It was pounding and even though you weren't here, Lyney felt... anxious. He missed you and if he was being honest for once, he wanted to see you.

Throwing the covers off, he stood up, feeling the cold floor beneath his feet almost grounding him. He walked toward the window and pushed the curtains aside before opening it up, sighing at the breeze that ruffled his hair. There was his dilemma, the reason he chose to lie to everyone. He was fatui, he was dangerous and you were something he knew he couldn't have. That was probably the worst... knowing you were actually single and interested gave him the hope that he craved. But when the scenarios of you being in danger flashed in his mind, he panicked. He burned any traces of hope that would bloom.

One mistake and you could be taken away. Just that easily.

"You're going crazy, Lyney..." he muttered to himself as he looked down at the street in front of him. It was empty, devoid of any life whatsoever. Yet Lyney's tired eyes that seemed to get glossier by the second held plenty of life. "You're completely losing it."

No matter how hard Lyney tried, he couldn't possibly ignore his feelings for you. He could only pretend for so long. With every passing day, whether he saw you or not, his veil began to fall. The illusion he set up for himself was slowly dissipating and the harsh reality of how much he loved and cared for you was showing. It scared him. It scared him so much that he desperately tried to pick up the pieces to rebuild his lies.

Lyney could lie to the world all he wanted, but he couldn't lie to himself. Not anymore.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lyney x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #🖊─ pocky’s writings #genshin angst

[liliesonpandora]

Kissing Them Goodnight

Jake Sully being a loving dad, post-atwow

Jake watched as all his children slept peacefully. He returned from his hunt very late, missing the opportunity to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight. But the one thing he learned is that he would not live with regrets when it came to them. He would kiss them as many times as he could… before it was too late.

He often thought of Neteyam, taken from them too early. He was just a boy with so much more life to live. Jake tried hard to not let the past consume him. Of course he missed his eldest son, the pain was always there. But he had three more children who needed him, children who needed to grow up with a present and loving father.

Jake walked towards the hammock where Kiri slept. Her breathing was slow and even. He leaned down so that his face was level with hers, and he caressed her cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled softly at her father. Jake felt sorry to wake her, but he wanted to hear her voice… it always calmed his heart when he needed it the most.

“Hi Dad.”

“Hi babygirl.”

“I missed you today,” she said with tired eyes. Jake smiled when he heard this and it warmed his heart.

“I’m sorry I took so long, babygirl. But I just wanted to say goodnight and tell you that I love you.”

“I love you more,” she said before hoisting herself up and leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then she laid back down, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

Jake looked at her for a little while longer. She was so beautiful and sweet. Although she was now a teenager, she would always be his little girl. He was still unsure how he and Neytiri were blessed with a gift like Kiri. But he knew the great mother had a plan for her… he just wasn’t sure what it was yet.

Jake finally left Kiri’s side and moved to the second hammock where Lo’ak and Tuk were sleeping. Tuk was glued to Lo’ak’s side as he snored lightly. She was supposed to be sleeping on her own, but she always managed to sneak into someone else’s bed… craving the touch of someone else while she slept. Jake thought it was adorable, but Neytiri thought she should learn to sleep by herself sometimes.

Jake put a hand on Tuk’s cheek and rubbed it gently to rouse her. “Baby, wake up,” he whispered, trying his best not to wake Lo’ak.

“Daddy?”

“Hi, hon” Jake began to lift Tuk out of Lo’ak’s hammock.

“Daddy, I wanna stay with Lo’ak tonight,” she whined.

“Shhh baby, let’s let your brother sleep comfortably. He’s had a long day. You’re gunna come sleep with me and mama.”

“Okay,” she said with some disappointment, probably annoyed that she was woken up only to be removed from her big brother’s side. She rubbed her eyes while Jake held her to his body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist before finally rested her head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head and then ran his hand through her hair.

Lo’ak woke up during this exchange.

“Dad?”

“Hey, son. I was just getting Tuk, I’m sorry we woke you. You can go back to sleep.”

“Thanks. Last time she slept with me, I woke up with her leg on my chest and I could barely breathe.”

“Hey!” Tuk cried, having not yet fallen back asleep.

“Sorry Tuk,” he apologized.

Jake laughed lightly at their brief interaction, glad he could save his son from his youngest’s reckless sleeping habits. He needed rest, things had been difficult for him lately.

“Lo’ak?” Jake called to his son quickly before he fell back asleep.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“I love you.”

Lo’ak smiled and replied “I love you too, Dad. Goodnight Tuk.”

“Tuk Tuk, give your brother a kiss goodnight.” Jake lowered her to peck Lo’ak on the cheek. “Night Lo’ak,” she said softly before Jake lifted her back up again.

He gently rubbed his son’s head before walking over to his and Neytiri’s sleeping mat to put Tuk down. He set her gently on her stomach in between himself and his wife.

“Daddy, Tsireya gave me the prettiest shells for a necklace today. But we have to finish making it, it’s not done yet,” she said with pursed lips and closed eyes as her face was squished against the mat.

Jake smiled at the way she updated him on her day. He wished that she could keep having more innocent moments like this.

He rubbed little circles on her back and whispered “You can tell me all about it tomorrow, baby. Go back to sleep now. I love you.” He told her before kissing her temple.

Once her breathing slowed, Jake leaned over to place a kiss on Neytiri’s eyelids. They twitched slightly, but she did not open them. ‘She must be exhausted’ he thought. But almost immediately, she spoke with her eyes still closed, “Ma Jake?”

Jake chuckled to himself before responding, “yes, my love?”

“Why is Tuk not in her own bed?”

“I should ask you that. She was sleeping with Lo’ak when I got here.”

“She’s sneaky… and she sleeps badly, take her please.”

Jake smiled as he knew this would be his wife’s request. He gently brought Tuk over to his other side where he could shield Neytiri from her nighttime antics.

He wrapped an arm around her so she wouldn’t roll too far in her sleep. At the touch, she moved slightly and gripped his arm with her tiny hand. Just then, Neytiri’s arm slipped around his waist and he felt her warmth as she pressed her body into his side. Jake rubbed her back with his free arm, hoping that she got a restful sleep.

There wasn’t much he could do now. Both his girls had a hold on him, so I guess he would be sleeping in this position for now. But this was just the way he liked it, he would hold them close and not let go. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

#jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully and daughter #jake sully #atwow imagines #atwow #avatar: the way of water #neytiri x jake #neytiri and jake #kiri avatar #avatar lo’ak #avatar tuk #avatar fic #avatar the way of water #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #tuktirey #dad jake sully #jake sully daughter #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #kiri sully #jeytiri #neytiri x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter

[dairyminki]

Inked By Fate - ONE

↬ pairing/s: park seonghwa x fem!reader, choi san x fem!reader ↬ genre: soulmate!au, racers!ateez, rivalry, angst, romance, fluff, pining ↬warning/s: none (lmk if i missed anything) ↬wc: 1k+

*reblogs and feedbacks are much appreciated!

・・・・・★

You hissed as you felt the pricking sensation on your back growing much more intense by the second. Your hands gripped at the counter, knuckles almost turning white, as you tried to steady yourself up whilst trying to not give in to the pain.

Here, it goes again.

A minute or two later, the door to the shop opens, revealing another female whose face turned panicky upon seeing your state behind the counter.

"Oh my god, Y/N!" The newly arrived female runs to you and then quickly guides you to one of the chairs. She eases you through the pain by cracking some jokes and telling you everything about her day. By the time the pain subsided, you were left staring at the pastel-painted ceiling, spaced out on the chair with a sore back.

"Y/N..."

A voice snaps you out of your mini daze.

"I-I think it's the biggest one yet, Jia." You told your best friend whose eyes widened in response.

"That explains why you looked more pained than ever." Jia says, pouting. "I'm sorry you always have to go through this. If only I can do something-"

You immediately put a hand up, indicating that you don't want to hear Jia continuing her words.

Because in the first place, it's not and will never be your best friend's fault. The cruelty of fate and destiny - that's what to blame.

"Ji, can you check it for me please?" You ask her instead, gesturing your back, with your head. Without any other word, Jia rushes behind you and rolls up your baby blue shirt.

"Oh my- Y/N, it's very pretty!" Jia exclaims, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"Jia, everything for you is pretty," you counter.

"No- I mean, I'm not kidding this time. This one's different!" Jia insists, and when you turn to look at her, you could see how your best friend's eyes sparkled in delight.

Seeing the doubt in your face, Jia offers, already extending her hand to you, "Do you want me to take a picture of it?" she asks.

"Yes, please."

・・・・・★

As soon as you got inside your apartment, you immediately went inside your room and made your way to your bed. Hugging a pillow, you laid down on your side as your mind drifted off to the familiar dark abyss where your endless thoughts resided.

Just how much pain will you still have to go through before you finally meet them?

For all you could know, maybe the chances of meeting them might not even be that high...so does that mean you'll have to suffer endlessly through these pains?

Sometimes, you question why fate and destiny chose to play their cards this way...

Why do they have to make it so hard for everyone, just for the sake of finding each other's soulmates? Your soulmate.

Yes, all the pain you've been feeling is all caused by your one and only soulmate. Your, supposed to be, 'other half' who, for some reason, you still can't find.

As a child, your parents always told you and your brother about the concept of soulmates, and of fate and destiny. Because of that, you've learned to love and appreciate the concept so much that everytime you see the inked initial on your wrist, you can't help but smile. Looking at it always manages to make your day.

That is, until you turned 18 - still no signs of your so-called soulmate. Due to that unfortunate reason, you had to experience another soulmate mark.

You remembered giggling in joy once upon a time as you let your imagination run wild. You imagined that maybe you'll have the infamous different eye color mark, or maybe the changing hair color one - but you certainly didn't expect this - for getting another tattoo related mark.

It started when you were in the middle of your Physics midterm exam, when you suddenly felt pain surging through your lower leg. The pain was bearable, but still it was pain.

When you went inside the bathroom, that's when you took notice of the black ink that was present in your leg. The tattoo was in the form of a fiery crown. And at first you were confused, thinking that your eyes were probably deceiving you. However, after spending nearly an hour staring at the same spot on your leg and searching on the web for confirmation, you eventually found out that it indeed is, your new soulmate mark.

After that, the tattoos just kept coming, and before you even knew it, your upper arm towards your back was littered with black ink.

And then today happened...

The biggest tattoo your soulmate has ever done - and they really had to place it on their back?

You wanted to curse them, but you thought that what if your soulmate didn't know? What if your soulmate didn't know that this is the case for your new soulmate mark? That for each tattoo they decide to get on their skin, the very same one starts to blossom on yours as well? Can you blame them?

"What a day..." You mutter under your breath, and then you suddenly realized that you still haven't seen the new design on your own back. And so, you quickly fished your phone out from your pocket.

"Oh my god...Jia wasn't joking." It is pretty. Maybe, the prettiest you've ever seen.

The tattoo was an infinity symbol, but instead of the plain one, it was made of a rose, with its stem bended into a loop with all the thorns present. And then somewhere along the lines were the words, fate and destiny.

You don't know why, but you felt warm. You felt warm because it's as if your soulmate was thinking the same as you.

That no matter how beautiful the concept of having soulmates is, the process of finding them says otherwise. But in the end, you know it'll be worth it. Just like a rose, no matter how beautiful it is, it still has prickly thorns that might pierce your skin. But in the end, it'll still be a beautiful flower to those who can see.

So that's why even though this game of hide and seek might be tiring and somewhat painful, you'll still move forward. Hoping that each step you take will finally lead you to your soulmate.

"What a beautiful pain..." You sighed as your gaze went to the letter that was inked on your right wrist.

S.

・・・・・★

↬a/n: hello hello hello~ this one's finally been freed from my drafts dungeon and i'm so happy! the first chapter is just an introduction for y'all to get a glimpse of the character and their life. see ya on the next chapter where things will begin to unfold ♡

↬ IBF MASTERLIST ↬ ATEEZ MASTERLIST

#seonghwa x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #seonghwa imagines #san imagines #ateez fics #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #inkedbyfate #dairyminkiwrites #dairyminki_atzsan #dairyminki_atzsh

[tender-rosiey]

How would gojo act when his mother loving son DOES grow up, or even better if gojo over here’s his teenaged son telling his mom that he doesn’t think Toni’s good enough for her💀(in a wholesome platonic way obviously)

old man — gojo satoru x f!reader

ᴀ/ɴ: it’s either writer’s block or i am just too busy; I hate it here

gojo doesn’t know whether to be thankful his son turned out this way or whether to despise it.

on one hand, he is now sure there will be someone to protect you when he isn’t around, even if he knows that you are capable and most badass and hot woman his eyes have seen, but who can stop a man from worrying about his wife?

plus it’s amazing to play pranks on everybody with your son.

but, on the other hand, he lives in constant competition with his son for your attention. not a moment can pass without his son trying to butt in.

gojo just came back from a mission and wants a welcome back kiss? no, his son wants to cuddle with his mom right now.

gojo would like to go on a date with you, his beautiful wife, and spend sometime alone? too bad, your son is tagging along. what a nice family outing it has become.

the moments the both of you shared alone were rare, but you enjoyed them to the fullest nonetheless. your son’s clinginess has been more tamed as he grew but he no doubt adores you and he makes sure you know that.

today was yet another where gojo was on a mission overseas, and you had your precious and lovely son to keep you company until he came home.

although he was quite the cheeky and sassy kid, but he had an undeniable soft spot for you and he loved being in your presence, better yet having his hair stroked by you.

something his father also enjoys.

“mom.”

you hum, “yes, honey?”

“why is dad such a loser?” he asks and your hand stops its movement.

noticing that you’re still caught in your initial shock he continues, “he is an old man with white hair and even his students are embarrassed by him; why are you with him?”

“you know your father is just 37, right?”

your son shrugs, “that’s old by my standards.”

“so I am old?” you ask and he shakes his head instantly.

“no, you look younger than him and are a million times prettier than him,” he assures and you smile teasingly.

“picking favorites, aren’t you?”

“I love him too, but it’s just that I am obviously better anyways so that leaves him to be in last place,” but he continues before speak up, “first place being you then second place being me.”

a laugh leaves your lips while your son closes his eyes in concentration for a moment before announcing something, “dad, i know you are there.”

you hear a grunt of pain before someone falls on the ground and you assume it’s your husband, “satoru, is that you?!”

happily, you make your way to him and give him a hug which he gladly returns despite his pain from the box your son threw at him using his energy, “hey honey,” he softly says with his face buried in your shoulder.

your son watches from the couch with a pout but lets you guys greet each other nonetheless.

“I missed you so much,” satoru says before pressing a big kiss to your cheek and you giggle in return and pat his head which makes him grin.

“me too, ‘toru,” you smile, “but how long have you been here?”

his grin immediately turns into a pout at that and you can see his eyebrows furrow, “long enough to hear the words of my ruthless son,” he half-heartedly glares at him.

the boy rolls his eyes before walking to his dad and looking up at him, “hey old man.”

“I am not old, you sassy teenager!” your husband argues and your son smirks but it drops as soon as he sees his dad smirk as well, who puts a hand on his son’s head to ruffle his hair, “speaking of which, I don’t think you want your mom to know about—“

“ALRIGHT!” the boy covers satoru’s mouth and looks at him with a nervous smile, “D-DAD YOU MUST BE TIRED; GO CHANGE!”

“what did you not want me to know about?” you ask and your son looks horrified.

satoru pats his son’s head one last time before going upstairs but not without giving you a kiss on the lips.

“N-NOTHING!” he hears his son scream and satoru smirks, the evil one has fallen.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @fiona782 @ginneko @kisakitwister @iamjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x female reader #saturo gojo x reader #jjk gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo hcs #gojo scenarios #gojo satoru fluff #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you

[everythingmp3]

𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜 ࣪ ִ☾⋆

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

some fantasies are simple yet impactful; Van is a devoted lover and helps you indulge in one of yours.

minors dni. warnings: bruises, masturbation

(disclaimer: a shorter one! just something I had fun with <3 )

you were sitting on Vans bed, lost in thought, waiting for her to get out of the shower. the room was cozy and ready for you two to go to sleep; a scented candle burning, the big light out, curtains drawn. you were sitting in your underwear and one of her t-shirts, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed, she walked in wearing a soft long sleeve shirt and plaid boxer shorts, what you often lovingly called a "slutty" look, because you truly never got tired of seeing her dressed like that, always crawling over to her side of the bed the second she joined you at night, rarely keeping your hands to yourself.

she saw you sitting there, visibly spaced out, laughing while sitting down next to you, an arm around your shoulder,"what is going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?" tapping your forehead lovingly, her hand resting on your cheek for a second, "oh you know, i was just thinking about how much I´ll miss you all week", you had somewhere to be, out of state, which would separate you two for longer than you were used to. she smiled then, pulling you closer, "come on, it´s just a few days, the time will fly by, i promise" kissing you after she said this. you smiled too then, caressing her leg a little, "you know i was thinking about something else too actually", that caught her attention, "oh yeah? what?"

you were trying to find a good way to put it, "well, i was just sitting here looking at my legs, thinking about how hot i would find it if you left some marks on me, so i have a reminder of being with you when i am gone, on my inner thighs, just for me to see..." her gaze was a little more intense now, she was undeniably turned on from hearing you openly fantasize about her,"well, i don´t wanna hurt your pretty skin.." she said, her hand slowly moving over your leg now, her eyes fixed on yours. usually, you were the one prone to leaving little marks and scratches, because her skin was so pale and sensitive to any impact, but sometimes you wanted to feel the pleasure of being physically claimed as well, "you don´t have to be super rough with it, just something that will last a few days. please baby, for me?" you placed a kiss on her neck, while moving her hand further down between your legs with your own, hearing her breathing change,"okay, okay, yes", she gave in; it was impossible for her to deny you any of your wishes.

she got down on her knees in front of you, pulling your legs apart, looking up at you for a second, your fingers in her hair, admiring the view, "hm, you always look so hot on your knees", she almost moaned just from that remark, she loved nothing more than the worship like nature of kneeling in front of you to please you.

she looked at your left thigh and placed a few soft kisses on your warm skin, before running her tongue all the way down the inner side of it, slowly, with feeling, leaving a trail of her spit, massaging your other thigh at the same time, you could already feel yourself growing wet from just that, "god... please Van" you were begging her to leave an impact, to devour you. she obeyed, sucking on your skin, gently at first, testing out how hard she should do it, feeling you tense up a little, hearing you moan, "fuck.." your eyes closed, your hands still in her hair, your grip harder than before, she was encouraged by that, more aggressive then, teeth sinking in a little, small bites here and there, getting into it, hearing you whine but obviously more from pleasure than from pain, so she continued up your thigh, a faint purple bruise forming, then another, little dots of red where her teeth had met your skin. you couldn´t even look down at her for too long because you knew you might just cum from the sight of it alone and you didn´t want to reach that point too quickly, you were enjoying the sensation too much.

"that feels so fucking good" you sighed, she was switching between licking and sucking on both of your thighs now, it sounded like she was literally eating you, she was deeply lost in the feeling of your soft skin, her lips all red and swollen, that familiar hunger for you having taken her over, completely, the way it always did. your free hand had wandered under your shirt, grabbing your own chest to add to the arousal of your lower half, your head falling back in pleasure, she looked up for a second and seeing you touch yourself like that made her want to taste that part of you too, so after giving your legs a final few licks and bites and kisses, she got up and pushed you back onto the bed, lifting up your shirt, leaving you almost entirely naked.

before you could think or speak she was already sucking on the sensitive skin of your tits, leaving another small mark to add to those you had explicitly asked for, hard enough to make you sound very desperate at that point, your hand instinctively reaching down your underwear to jerk yourself off, she grinned, watching you squirm under her, you had already gotten so turned on that you didn´t need to do much, feeling her hover over you and the heat of her mouth all over your skin was enough, she knew your body, she could feel that you were about to cum and helped you by grabbing and squeezing your thigh where your skin was still all tender and raw and sensitive from her previous action, "come on, let me see you cum, baby" she whispered, an intense final shudder went through your entire body immediately after she said it, leaving you all weak and out of breath, as she slowly climbed off you, smiling, taking in the view of you laying there; spent, undone, beautiful.

"you weren’t lying about how badly you wanted me to that huh?” she seemed pleased, satisfied, her gaze now on your legs where the bruises had appeared, "be honest, did that hurt?", a little concern in her voice, you laughed, your voice still a bit shaky "i was too busy trying not to finish ten seconds in to notice” she smiled, laying down more comfortably, her legs sprawled out and tangled up with yours, "oh, that’s not an issue, i would´ve just kept going, don´t hold back next time", you laughed and nudged her in the side, "jesus, don´t talk like that Palmer, you´re turning me on again", "good" she answered, face glowing from the unexpected late night rush of excitement, pulling you closer again, clearly loving it; how easy it was to make you want her.

#van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets

[braineater444]

To Be a Princess

Chapter 1

Start/Next

fem!reader x kokonoi

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Abuse, Death, Blood, Strained Mother/Daughter relationships (other trigger warnings to be added)

Synopsis: What is a good relationship without its ups and downs? You and Hajime have never had a serious down until now. You can run away, but it's never that easy.

“My mother texted me,” Exasperation coats your vocal cords. A smirk paints your face when you see Koko roll his eyes, still looking down at his paperwork. You should be in bed, but the multiple sharp dings of your mother's messages forced you awake. Now, you can’t go back to sleep.

His eyes settle on you, a fond smile brightening his features. “Well, good morning to you, too.” His attention is on you as you make your way further into his office and sit on his desk to peek over at the papers he’s going through. You could count every crystal in the chandelier above you through its reflection in his eyes as he gazes up at you.

“Good morning.” You giggle when you lean down to kiss him. His chin rests in your palm as you guide him towards you. The moment your lips meet, you feel all the tenseness leave his body.

“What did she say?” He rests his head in his hand.

“Something about reconnecting and wanting to see me. I don’t know, I didn’t really read it.”

His brows furrow, and he leans back in his chair. You take him in. He smells of Bibliothèque by Byredo he bought a while ago, a recent favorite of his. The fruitiness and woodiness add an air of maturity to his already put-together demeanor. It makes sense for someone so beautiful. He shakes his head. “But if you want to, I won’t stop you.”

You smooth over your silk nightgown and shrug. You consider his face for a moment. His red eyeliner isn’t on. His skin and eyes look dull. His hair is pulled back into a half bun, half ponytail fusion. He yawns.

“How long have you been up?” You remember going to bed with him last night. When you woke at three to get water and crawled back into bed, he was there and pulled you back into his chest to cuddle. You know he’s slept, but for how long?

“I don’t know...” He taps his phone to check the time. “Maybe since five or six? My boss called and asked me if I could rush some stuff.”

His workaholic tendencies make your head hurt sometimes. You’ve told him before that you think he’ll die at that desk. “And when he called, you just got up and started working?” He rolls his eyes. “Koko, did you even eat?”

“No.”

“You’re going to have a heart attack in this office.”

“But I’ll leave you so much.” He smiles playfully, but none of this is funny.

“It’s not funny! Let’s go out for breakfast.” You hop off of his desk and head towards the door. You look back and see that his head is in his papers again. “Now!” With that, he’s moving.

✮✮✮

“Mom?” You try to sound composed over the phone as tears stream down your cheeks. You’re unsuccessful, and she starts to scramble and beg you to tell her what’s happened. You can’t. Your throat hurts and you still can’t process what’s going on. “I’m- I’m at a ho-hotel right now,” You sniffle and cough and wipe away snot. “I’m going to take a trai-n and be there tomorrow.”

You grow nauseous as your mom pleads with you to tell her what’s wrong. You hang up and collapse into a ball on the floor. Sobbing doesn’t help, but it’s the only thing you can do right now. It’s the first time since you left that you’ve had time to break down.

You fall asleep like that.

The next morning, you wake up in pain. Your eyes burn, your mouth is dry, and your bones ache. This is the lowest your life has been since meeting Hajime and possibly the worst it could be. Rock bottom. And as much as you miss the feel of your bed and his kisses on your cheeks telling you it will be alright; you know better than to return.

“It’s not his fault.” That’s what you’d thought when you came into his office last night to see the guest, you’d let in slumped over in a chair with a bullet through his head.

There had been no commotion until the sound of the gunshot. You had run to check on Hajime only to find out he was the assailant. You hadn’t even known he had a gun. Why would he have a gun? And why would he kill a random client of his? They came over all the time and nothing like this had happened before. It couldn’t have been him. Why would he do this?

You hadn’t even reacted when you saw it. You only felt your heart drop and your body tremble. Brain matter, blood, and little bone fragments covered the room. The man’s eyes were glossed over with no life inside of them. Your heart was on track to beat out of your chest and maybe you were going to pass out, but you had said little to Hajime in the moment. You stood in shock for a second before he opened his mouth to say something you didn’t quite hear, too busy processing the scene.

“Do you need help to clean?” Were all the words your mouth could form. Neither of you had expected that to be the first thing to find its way off of your tongue. Mouth agape, he nodded slowly and confused.

You left to go rummaging through the cabinets with unstable hands. You’d grabbed as much as you could hold. Never had you been prepared to clean up so much blood. There was no thought as shaky hands grabbed at glass cleaner and air freshener. When you’d come back, Hajime was staring at the body in disbelief.

“Is this the first time?” You’d asked.

He’d come clean about everything. Words spilled like water from a broken dam. He was an executive in a high-profile gang. Bonten. You’d heard of it, but only on the news. They’d been less of a gang and more of a terrorist organization. Selling drugs, dealing weapons, killing people and so much more. Hajime didn’t seem like the type, but he said it wasn’t his first time killing. He clarified that it’s not a hobby of his like it is for other people he knew. Tears filled his eyes as he told you, but they didn’t fall in that moment. He was pulling himself together as best he could. He’d never intended for you to find out. Hajime just wanted to keep you safe and take care of you. He promised.

You listened silently while scrubbing the walls as he said something about not wanting you to leave. How he couldn’t stand to lose someone else to a life like this. He’s sorry, but this is all he’s known since he was a kid. He doesn’t know how to get by in any other way. You have to believe him. He loves you. He can’t stand the idea of you leaving him.

His propositioning became a blur when he began to break down. You stopped hearing him when the tears started to fall and the look in his eyes changed from sorrow and guilt to something unhinged. His hands came up to pull at the roots of his hair and you’re sure he was screaming apologies and begging you not to leave. His mouth moved like he was begging you to say something, but all you could was scrub the wall and look at him. You don’t remember the time cleaning after that.

For the first time, you feared him and felt alone all over again. He’d become another stranger. Your heart was sitting in your lap and you were watching it beat as you figured out what to do.

While he showered, you packed a bag for when you’d make a run for it in the dark hours of the morning. You took some jewelry to pawn, comfortable clothes to make the trip in, and some of the fancy hygiene products he bought you. Then you hid the bag in one of the spare rooms, before climbing into bed to wait for him. With the state he was in, surely, he’d hurt you if he knew you were going to leave.

His kisses felt like sandpaper against your cheeks. Every time his lips touched your skin was a silent question of whether you still loved him. You did, but you couldn’t stay. Not like this. When he fell asleep, you took some cash and ran as far as you could. It wasn’t very far at all. An okay hotel near the train station about an hour away.

Twice now you’ve thought about calling the police and having him locked away forever. Once last night and now as you step out of the shower and see an accomplice in the hotel mirror. You can’t bring yourself to do it. Your head aches at the thought of him behind bars, in a small room, taking communal showers. You don’t want that for him. What you want is the normalcy back. You want him holding you. You want him telling you that you had a nightmare. You want this nasty breakup over with.

Your eyes become faucets of emotion again as you mourn. You cry and heave naked over the sink. For the first time in a long time, you’re alone in this life. Hajime cannot come to comfort you when you cry. You are at your lowest.

It comes up faster than you expect. Your stomach. Milky vomit splatters into the sink. You run the water over it as your body tremors. The sound calms you.

Your hand dips into the stream and comes up to your mouth. You gargle and spit twice. Then you splash water over your face. You’re fine.

There’s no time for this. You need to leave.

Pulling on your clothes has you thinking about other things or at least trying to distract yourself.

“What’s worse, living with a murderer or my mom?” You halfheartedly laugh to yourself. It’s too much to think about right now.

You haven’t worn a sweatsuit in quite some time. Koko hated what he called “lazy clothes” and insisted you are too beautiful to wear them. Of course, you still had some, but you could never do more than look at them. Not until now. You’re sure your mother would be just as disapproving for similar reasons.

You laugh again at the thought of neither of them liking this outfit. A soft yellow sweat suit and white sneakers. It’d break both of their hearts.

A soft knock at your door interrupts your thoughts, and you stiffen.

“Room service.” Says a gruff, masculine voice on the other side.

Just room service. You unclench.

“No, thank you!” You shout as you grab your bag and ready yourself to leave.

“It’s important.” The voice sings back. “You left something at the front desk. I need to return it to you.”

Oh?

You crack the door open just enough for your foot to fit through. The man is tall and angular. Dress shirt. Tie. Black slacks. Loafers. Expensive Prada Loafers. He reeks of cigarette smell. Acrid and off-putting. Nothing in his hands but the rings that adorn his scarred fingers. Your eyes travel up to his face.

Slicked back black hair. Prominent streaks of grey in thick stripes. Massive scar across his eye. He doesn’t work here. Your heart jumps to a start.

You scramble to close the door, but he’s strong enough to just push his way in and have you falling on your ass in the process. The door swings shut, the lock clicks, and a gun is pointed at you. His finger comes to his lips to hush you before you can think of screaming.

“It’s early. I’m tired. And I don’t want to be here.” He reaches his free hand out to help you up off the floor. You stare frozen in fear, labored breathing, unable to think until you notice his gesture and offer a hand so he can pull you up. “Can you just come with me so I can drop you off to Koko and go about my day?”

Your saliva becomes glue holding your mouth shut. You can do nothing but stare into his eyes.

“Hello?” He waves his gun in your face and you flinch away.

You offer a slow, cautious shake of your head. Your feet carry you a couple of steps back. He follows.

“You have to.” He asserts, shoving the gun’s muzzle under your chin.

For some reason, you're embarrassed by your trembling. You try to stop it, but can’t. Your eyes are blown wide and your hands shake as you grab the man’s wrist to pull the gun from under your chin.

“I can’t.” You barely manage. Tears fill your eyes as you back away again. The man doesn’t move with you. He looks more confused and irritated than anything. He’s nothing but furrowed brows and hard eyes.

“Listen…” He groans as he watches you wipe away tears as they fall. “I don’t know what the hell this is about, nor do I care, but my boss told me to get you and bring you to Koko,” He steps closer and shoves the gun into his waistband. “I’m not a fan of brutalizing attractive young women, but I will if I have to. Then I’ll carry you out of here and take you to him.”

You understand you’re leaving with him either way.

✮✮✮

He’s enough of a gentleman to have grabbed all of your stuff for you and thrown it into his backseat, but not enough of a gentleman to not kidnap you. Enough of a gentleman to open the door to his SUV for you, but not enough of a gentleman to not point a gun at you.

When his car starts, the feeling of dread sinks in. This is happening. This is not a dream. Your ex is a man powerful enough to have you kidnapped. 

You try to suck it up and stop your tears, but you keep sniffling. Hajime is a sick bastard to send a man with a gun after you. How could he?

“What’s your name?” The man's voice interrupts your thoughts. You say nothing. “Fair.” He brushes you off. “I understand it. I’m human too.” 

Hard to believe.

“My name is Takeomi.” He looks away from the road to shoot a halfhearted grin. “I’ll have to learn your name later, right?”

“Please let me go.” You demand through sniffles. You try to toughen your act as the tears dry up. Still, you feel pathetic.

He ignores you.

“I thought he was gay.” He doesn’t turn to look at you this time. “You know, I thought I’d be picking up a man.”

Oh?

“…but you’re incredibly beautiful so, I understand if he suddenly changed his mind.”

What?

He doesn’t say much after that, and just drives. You stare out of the window and hold back tears.

By the time you arrive, you’ve calmed down. You linger in the car as Takeomi grabs your things and calls Hajime, but the moment he opens the door it’s a march of death. 

Takeomi waits with you at the elevator. He can’t stand this, you can tell. Even without moving, his stance is impatient. You can hear the hum of the elevator moving. The closer it sounds the more your heart races.

DING!

No. No.

You take a step back as the elevator doors open. You look at Takeomi who looks back at you and shrugs.

No.

You’re half ready to run when a hand guides you into the elevator. You keep your head down. Hajime mutters out a thank you and you see them exchanging your luggage. They don’t say goodbye.

The penthouse is the same. Same sweet smell. Same shiny wooden floors. Same warmth. But it’s not your home anymore. It’s your new gilded cage. 

Hajime drops your bag and suddenly you’re surrounded by a familiar warmth and scent. He’s everything you can sense. His floral conditioner. His musky cologne. His well-trimmed nails against your scalp.

“Hajime…”

He pulls away. There’s a darkness in his eyes when you finally look at him. His hair is a mess. He hasn’t brushed it like he usually would. His makeup isn’t done. He is still in his pajamas. It’s been less than a day and already he’s in disarray.

“Why did you abandon me when all I do is take care of you?” He stresses. “I do everything to keep you safe and beautiful and you run after one mistake?”

“Mistake?” Your voice shakes. “Killing someone is a mistake?”

“I was doing my job.”

“Fuck you.” An immediate slap to your cheek blurs your vision. 

First, it’s shock, then it’s anger, then it’s tears. Koko doesn’t seem remorseful though. With furrowed brows, he says, “I love you and you abandoned me. I took care of you when that bitch of a mother threw you out and you crawled into Tokyo from the shithole you came from. But fuck me?”

Crazy. He’s actually crazy.

You slap him back and the look on his face changes from seething anger to hurt. Before he can react, you dart from the doorway all the way to the bedroom unsure of if he’s chasing you. Immediately you lock it. Finally, you can breathe, but the air is full of him.

#tokyo rev x reader #koko x reader #tw: violence #tw: abuse #tw: kidnapping #bonten x reader

[e-dubbc11]

Anna

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: All the baby fluff, I don’t even think there are any swear words in this, maybe one. But this is probably one of the fluffiest fics I’ve written.

Word Count: 3k-ish

Summary: Your little girl is now a mobile toddler and so many people just adore her. Anna’s godfather, Frank, is having so much fun being a godfather but she has a favorite babysitter and her name is Shortcake.

A/N: Continuation/Side Story of The Sweetest Pain Series. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from this series for long. Toddlers are so unpredictable and they soak up everything like a sponge so it was fun to write for an active toddler. I’d like to thank @jvanilly for suggesting the other artists keeps snacks at their stations for her visits, I thought that was adorable. And Shortcake is a character created my lovely Lily @munsonownsmyass in her fic Mark Upon Your Skin Give it a read if you haven’t yet!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

She was still trying to get the hang of being upright, toddling around on two legs instead of crawling on all fours. Even when she wobbled and fell down, she didn’t get upset or give up. She just got right back up and started walking again, your little miss was a lot like her father in that way.

Billy never gave up or gave in either, he didn’t know the meaning of the word, and he didn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And right now, Billy Russo had everything he had ever wanted. He had a thriving business, he had opened up the other side of the studio so he could bring in more artists and added space to display his artwork.

Always booked out for months in advance, people came from all over to have Billy do their tattoos. He brought their ideas to life and when he was finished, they always left with a smile on their face.

And he finally had something that he had always wanted…a family. Growing up in the group home, Billy would see children come and go. They would get adopted or placed in foster homes but he didn’t. Couples coming in to adopt wanted young children or babies, they never gave Billy a second look so he never knew what it was like to be part of a family until he became part of Frank’s, until he became “Uncle Billy.”

As welcome as they made him feel, something was still missing but he ultimately found those missing pieces. You were one of them, you were someone who understood him, you let him talk when he wanted to, and loved him even with his faults.

He loved you more than anything.

You could see he was scared to death when you told him you were pregnant. He didn’t know anything about parenting. All he knew how to be was Junior and Lisa’s fun uncle Billy. “What do I know about being a dad? I never had one.” Those words broke your heart but you knew he’d love that baby no matter what and you would both learn together.

She was a carbon copy of her father. From her wild dark brown hair to her onyx colored eyes, she melted both of your hearts with her infectious laugh and million dollar smile that was just like Billy’s. And now that she was more mobile, you had to pay extra attention to her so she didn’t get into too much trouble.

The little miss was starting to talk more, put little sentences together too and Billy was excited that she said “da-da” before “mama.” You knew it was easier for a lot of babies to say “da-da” but you just let him have that win because he was just over the moon about it.

And she hadn’t picked up on any yet but you were willing to put money down on her Uncle Frankie teaching her some very “colorful” words sometime in the near future.

Your little girl was constantly surrounded by people who loved her. Frank was always bringing her places with the kids, Maria would watch her one day a week while you and Billy were at work, but Anna’s favorite babysitter was definitely Shortcake.

You were convinced that something happened the day she was born like Shortcake imprinted on her or something crazy like that because your little Anna Raven Russo just adored her. Anna couldn’t quite say “Shortcake” yet so she just called her “Cake.”

One of Anna’s favorite things to do was to try and scare you but she also loved for you to scare her. It was a game she played with Shortcake all the time.

“Baby, why does our child like it when you jump out and scare her? She laughs like a crazy person…watch.” Billy said, hiding behind a door and calling for her.

With a smile on your face, you watched Anna clumsily run over to where Billy was hiding and he jumped out from the dark room. She screamed and then started to laugh.

You and Billy chuckled and he said “See…she’s a little nut.”

“Again Daddy!” Anna yelled.

You just shook your head as you gazed down at her and said “Oh Shortcake plays that game with her. That’s one of the things they like to do with each other is ‘play scared.’”

The day Anna was born, she didn’t have many visitors because she was born in the middle of a snowstorm. Her own father almost missed her birth because of it but aside from Billy’s other employees, the other two people that were there the day she was born were Frank and Shortcake.

It was very hard to tear that baby away from her arms so Frank could hold her, there was just something so special about their relationship from day one and it had blossomed into the sweetest little friendship.

Anna loved visiting Billy at the tattoo studio and even though she obviously couldn’t read what it said, she knew the logo when she saw it. “Daddy…work.”

Firmly planted on your hip, she pointed at the Anvil logo on the window and a wide smile stretched across her face. Excited that she was going to see her other “friends” today, she started impatiently kicking her feet and gently bouncing against your side in anticipation.

Everyone looked up as you opened the door, every single person had a smile on their face as you put the little miss down so she could go say hi to everyone. Her first stop was always her father.

She saw Billy standing behind the counter and she took off running as fast her little legs would let her, he scooped her up in his arms and blew a raspberry on her cheek. Anna let out a high pitched squeal like she did every time Billy did that to her, she loved it.

“And how’s my pretty girl today?” Billy asked.

Anna pointed at you. “Mommy…pretty.” She said.

You let out a little chuckle.

Billy gazed at you like he hadn’t seen you in a week. “Yes, mommy is very pretty…she’s beautiful.” He said with a wink, giving you butterflies in your stomach.

Frank walked in off of the back deck. “Is my goddaughter here?!! Come here, sweetheart.” He said as he squatted down with his arms outstretched.

“Down…Daddy.” She said to Billy.

Billy kissed her on the forehead. “Down daddy, PLEASE.” He said.

Her deep brown eyes, her father’s eyes, looked him over before she said “Peeease!”

Billy set her on the floor and her little legs took her right to Frank. He picked her up and started to “bite” at her neck and she grabbed his nose. “Ow! You got my nose!” He said jokingly with Anna laughing.

“Well to be fair, it is a large target Frankie. Of course she would grab your nose.” Billy said with everyone else getting a good laugh at that one.

You stared intently as big Raven played with little Raven, he had the biggest smile on his face while he played with her and tickled her. Obviously, Frank loved his children but he told you he does sometimes miss when they were babies and he did miss out on a lot of time when they were small because he was deployed so he was really enjoying being Anna’s godfather.

She then toddled around to everyone’s work station, smiling as she waved and said hi to the other artists in the shop that day. They always had snacks and stickers for her, doting on her the entire time she was visiting.

After Anna made the rounds and extorted all of the snacks out of everyone, she ran back over to you. “Up…mommy!” She said with her arms extended over her head.

Tilting your head to the side as you looked down at her, you said. “Up mommy, PLEASE.”

“Up peeeease, mommy!” She said.

You and Billy were doing your best to try and raise a polite human being.

When you picked her up, she turned her hand up toward the ceiling so you knew she was trying to ask you a question and it was adorable. “Cake…mommy?”

“Awwww, Shortcake isn’t here today baby girl.” You said to her.

Anna looked a little disappointed.

“You’ll see her in a couple days. She’s coming to babysit you while Mommy and Daddy go out on a date.” Billy said to her in that soothing voice of his.

Bouncing her on your hip, you smiled at her and asked “Ok?”

Nodding her head and pursing her lips, she said “Ok.”

**********

A couple of days later, while playing with Anna in the living room, you heard a knock at the door. She looked up from her blocks and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, stretching all the way across her face.

She knew who was at the door.

“Who’s here, Anna? Let’s go see!” You said excitedly.

“Cake…Mommy!” She yelled.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I dunno, we gotta open the door.”

As soon as the door opened, Anna ran toward Shortcake who was holding a gift bag.

“Anna!! My little bird, I’ve got something for you.” She said.

Shortcake was ALWAYS bringing Anna presents…dinosaur stuffed animals, books, tiny hoodies. And today wasn’t any different as she followed Shortcake over to the couch to open the bag. Anna threw the tissue paper on the floor and pulled out a pair of Converse sneakers, just like the ones Shortcake had on.

“Now we have the same shoes!” She said.

You just sat back and watched Anna pick up one of the sneakers to show you.

“Look, mommy!” She said.

“I see them, baby. Do you like them?” You asked her.

“On…peeeeease.” Said Anna.

“I guess that’s a yes. What do you say?” You asked.

Anna looked up at Shortcake through her long dark lashes and said “taaaank you.”

Billy walked out from the bedroom. “What did you spoil my child with now, Shortcake?” He asked, walking over to you and pulling you flush with his chest.

You always felt so safe in his arms even from the very first time he hugged you. The way he held you tight and gave you that extra squeeze, you knew Billy was the one for you.

He tilted your chin up so you were looking into his eyes, he smiled and leaned down to kiss you. Things were very different now that you had a child but you still made time for each other to go out on “dates.” You were lucky enough to have so many people willing to babysit while you and Billy went out and spent alone time together.

“She bought Anna her first pair of Chuck Taylor’s. Aren’t they adorable?” You said.

He smiled as he watched Shortcake put the shoes on Anna’s feet. “That is really cute. You ready to go, beautiful?” He asked.

You explained to Shortcake that Anna had a nice long nap earlier and she was probably growing again because she was sleeping so much. You left dinner for them both and told them to have fun which you didn’t really need to tell her because they always had fun.

“Ok well you two go out and enjoy yourselves, she’s in good hands.” Said Shortcake.

You and Billy told Anna that you would see her later and to be good for Shortcake.

“Bye Mommy, bye Daddy.”

Billy narrowed his eyes at Anna, then turned to look at you. “Is she kicking us out?” He asked.

“I think she is.” You replied.

The two of you waved goodbye and headed out for dinner.

When you were halfway through with dinner, your phone started buzzing. It was Shortcake.

Your skin immediately pricked with goosebumps with worry, wondering if anything was wrong.

“Hey Shortcake, what’s up? Everything ok?” You asked.

There was a slight pause, everything was quiet for a minute before she answered.

“Uh, yeah…well, I think I know why the little bird has been sleeping a lot lately. After you left she kind of developed a little bit of a fever. She did eat and I gave her a cool bath. Her temperature went down a little but she does have a little bit of congestion so I gave her some Tylenol, and put the humidifier on in her room when I put her to bed.” She said.

“Wow…look at you go. We’ll finish up dinner and come home so you can—“

She interrupted you. “No, no…please stay out. I’m ok with her here, she’s sleeping, she’s fine. Enjoy alone time with each other for a while longer…please?”

You and Billy weren’t the type of parents to freak out over every little sniffle, kids get sick, that’s what they do. You didn’t know if Shortcake ever had to deal with a sick baby before but it sounded like she was a pro at it.

“Are you sure? We really can come home if you want us to, just so you don’t catch her cold.” You said.

“I want you guys to stay out, it really is ok.” She said. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Ok, ok. We’ll see you in a little while then. Bye.”

And you hung up.

Billy touched your hand. “Everything ok, sweet girl?” He asked.

You told him everything Shortcake told you.

“Wow, sounds like she’s got everything under control.” He said.

“Our little girl is a tough one, not letting anyone know she’s sick. She’s tough like her dad.” You said leaning across the table to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

His tongue darted out to slowly lick his bottom lip, and tasting the red wine on your lips he replied “And like her mom.”

And he kissed you again.

**********

When you arrived home, Shortcake was having some tea and watching tv.

“Thank you for taking care of her tonight. Just, really and truly thank you, not only for taking care of her but for giving us some needed time with each other.”

Billy leaned over and kissed your temple.

You touched her hand, looked at her and said, “And I think you’re gonna make a really great mom someday.”

Shortcake brushed a tear away from her cheek and smiled. “Thank you.” And she leaned in to give you a hug.

You and Shortcake weren’t always so close. When she first started at the shop, you thought she wanted Billy but it was just a misunderstanding and you quickly moved forward.

It’s a huge deal to trust someone enough to take care of your child but there was no question that Shortcake loved Anna and Anna loved her in return.

“I do have to show you guys something, well two things. The first one is on my phone here…hang on.” She said.

Pulling out her phone, she clicked on a video she took of Anna.

“Anna…little bird…tell mommy and daddy the new word you learned. What’s this on my arm right here?” She asked.

Anna pointed to Shortcake’s arm. “Tattoooooo!”

You and Billy started to laugh.

“And what’s the second thing?” Billy asked.

She motioned for the two of you to walk with her to Anna’s room.

Peering into her crib, you and Billy glanced down to see your little Raven asleep but also clutching her new sneakers tightly to her chest.

“She wanted to wear them to bed so we had to compromise. I figured since they’re brand new, it would be ok.” Said Shortcake. “It’s ok, right?” She asked with an unsure tone to her voice.

“Of course it’s alright. I’m sure you really had to fight her on not wearing them to bed, didn’t you. She’s stubborn, like her father.” You said with a sly smile on your face.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and then a smile broke out across his face because he couldn’t keep a straight face as he said “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweet girl…hey Shortcake, you think you can convince Matt to have one of these? Look at how cute she is, huh?” He joked in a whisper.

Even in the dim light of Anna’s room, you could see Shortcake blush and shy away from the two of you in embarrassment.

Elbowing Billy in the stomach, you playfully scolded him. “Don’t embarrass her, Billy.”

Quietly, the three of you tip toed out of Anna’s room. Billy had something he wanted to ask Shortcake and earlier at dinner he asked if it sounded like a good idea. You told him it sounded perfect.

“Shortcake, I wanted to ask you something and you can say no if you want but I was wondering if you could do a tattoo on me for Anna? Since I fired Andy for looking at my wife’s ass too much, he’s definitely not doing it. But I think that just means that maybe you were meant to do it anyway. I want her name and a raven next to it, if you’re up for it.”

Shortcake was practically speechless. Nervously, she stumbled a little over her words when she answered Billy’s question.

“Billy…I really don’t know what to say. To trust me with such an important piece, having to do with your daughter. I—I would love to do that for you.” She replied, her eyes shined with unshed tears.

Snaking your arms around Billy’s waist, his hands held you tightly against him and he moved his hands up and down along your spine causing goosebumps to dance across your skin, and you could feel him relax.

He felt very content.

“Good, thank you. We can talk more about it on Monday.” He said.

On her way out, Shortcake pulled both of you in for a hug. “Thank you both. Little bird is just so special and I—I just love her to death.” She said.

You smiled warmly at her and replied. “And she loves you. Thank you again for tonight.”

Shortcake turned back to look at you and Billy after walking out the door and said with a smile.

“Anytime.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that may enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo #billy russo fluff #billy russo au

[writingforstraykids]

Can we have a Minchan drabble with Minho comforting Chan after a rough day (hate, stress etc)?💖

Pairing: Minchan

Word Count: 905

Warnings/Tags: insecure!chan, soft!min, angst, fluff, cuddles, mention of hate comments (no further details), emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: I hope you like it dear💕

Minho looks up from his phone as the door to his room opens without a warning. He frowns softly as Chan shuffles inside, and his heart drops, noticing he's crying. “Chan?” he asks carefully, and the older man bows his head defeatedly, a heavy sob shaking his body. Minho scrambles to his feet and rushes to him. He opens his arms for him, pulling him into a warm embrace and rocking him gently. “Channie, baby?”

Chan sobs in response, burying his face in his shoulder and holding onto him tightly. “M-Min,” he whimpers. “‘m sorry,” he hiccups through tears. 

“No, Channie, it's okay,” he promises, fondling his head and running his hand through his hair. “It's okay, I got you.” He takes a few steps back with him, carefully sitting at the edge of his bed, pulling Chan into his lap, who clings to him. Minho worriedly leans his head against Chan's and rubs his back soothingly. “Baby, what happened?”

Chan makes a pained noise before telling him, broken up between sobs and soft hiccups. He tells him how pissed he is at himself for not getting everything done today. He tells him about the nasty comments he received during his live and the way he grows smaller in Minho's arms at that breaks his heart. “I'm just stressed out a-and insecure. M-Min, I'm s-so tired o-of everything,” he rambles on, burying himself even deeper in his arms, curling up into himself a bit. “I can't sleep, and I’m so fucking tired.”

Minho gets up with a soft grunt, lifting him up and lowering him into his mattress. Chan turns his head so Minho can't take in the whole mess and presses his lips together tightly. Minho grabs his blanket and tucks him in comfortably, leaning down to brush back his hair. “I'll be back in two minutes, promise. You stay right there.”

Chan nods reluctantly and watches him leave. His stomach tightens painfully as he's suddenly alone again, and he turns onto his side, curling up with a sob. He misses him already, and he knows it's ridiculous how much he needs his boyfriend sometimes. 

Minho is back soon, as promised, carrying a cup of tea, a bowl with cut-up brownie bites, and Chan's sleeping pills. He puts everything down at his bedside table before grabbing his lighter and some of the lavender candles he keeps in his room. He ignites a few of them, placing them around the room and then turns off the lights. He knows how embarrassed Chan gets about breaking down like this, maybe that would help.

Chan shivers at the warm, soft light bathing the room. Minho sits down next to him and flashes him an encouraging smile as he hands him the cup of tea. “It's your favorite with two spoons of honey as you like it.”

Fresh tears shoot to his eyes, and he mumbles a soft ‘thank you’. Minho wraps his arm around him, and Chan shuffles closer, slowly sipping his tea. He takes the pill Minho hands him and takes a few deep breaths. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” he shakes his head. “You've had a shit day, it's okay.”

“It's stupid,” he argues weakly. 

“Mhm, no,” Minho shakes his head, gently running his hand through Chan's hair. “If it upsets you, it's valid, no matter how minor the incident may seem.” 

“I should do better,” Chan says, finishing his tea and staring at the empty cup in his hands. 

“You're doing your best,” Minho reminds him kindly. 

“It's not enough,” he insists, grip growing tight around the cup. 

“It'll never be enough. You have very unrealistically high standards for yourself,” Minho chuckles softly and puts the cup aside for him. “You're so kind and understanding with everyone else…sometimes I wished Chan would take care of my Channie more,” he told him softly. 

Chan turns to look at him, lower lip quivering heavily. “I'm sorry. You're right, I fucked that up.”

“You didn't fuck anything up,” he assures him and gently caresses his cheek. “You just need to learn to be more patient with yourself, Channie love. You have boundaries like everyone else; you have only so many resources before you burn out. It's human.”

“Can I stay tonight?” he asks timidly. 

Minho gets onto his knees between his legs and soothingly rubs his bare thighs, hands slipping beneath the fabric of his shorts. “That's the dumbest question you've asked me today,” he smirks and a tiny smile pulls at the corner of Chan's mouth. “I have snacks, I have a fuzzy blanket for you and aaall the love you deserve,” he tells him and giggles as Chan is suddenly on top of him, throwing him back into the mattress. 

He gets comfortable on top of him and sighs softly. “I love you, Minho baby.”

Minho smiles sweetly and cuddles him close, covering them with the blanket. “I love you too, Channie love.” He soothingly fondles his hair, feeding him brownies as Chan grows quieter and heavier on him with every passing minute. “I'm so proud of you, so are the kids. They adore you, and I love you so so much, baby,” Minho tells him sincerely, massaging his scalp. Chan hums in response, too far gone to answer properly. He soothes him to sleep and cuddles up tightly with him once he is. “My sweet Channie,” he whispers into the comforting silence of his room. 

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@bunnystruggles @atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28

#stray kids #skz #chan #skz drabble #minchan #minho #chan drabble #minho drabble #minchan drabble #chan angst #minho angst #minchan angst #minho fluff #chan fluff #minchan fluff #requests open

[bucket-barnes]

Memories: Calista Jane Hook

(It seems my inspiration always strikes during my classes- enjoy the completion to the memories trio I thought up during my finals)

CJ would be the first to admit that she didn’t really remember her mother, though she looked the most like her, she was the only one of her siblings to get their mother’s blonde hair and most facial features, but there’s one thing her siblings have that she doesn’t…the memories

CJ doesn’t remember how old she was when her mother died, just that she was young, her memories of that time are spotty. She remembered Harry sitting by their mother’s bedside and bringing her small little trinkets and talking to her, she remembered Harriet taking them to Ursula’s fish and chips and her yelling at the men who made fun of their father. There was really only one memory CJ had of her mother dying that was truly her’s, sometimes, her father would lift her up and sit her on her mother’s bed so CJ could cuddle with her, she’d always put her little head on her mother’s chest where she could hear the fluttering of her heart while her father ran his hand through her mother’s hair…she remembers liking those days. The day her mother passed, CJ was being held by Harriet who kept whispering to her that everything was gonna be ok while holding back her own tears…why was she crying? Why was their father crying? Why was Harry hugging him?

CJ was seven when she became her father’s shadow, or…at least whenever Harriet would let her know if their father was feeling good enough to be above deck. CJ was aware of her father’s alcoholism, she knew it made him angry, and when he was angry she had to stay in her room with Harry while Harriet dealt with him. CJ liked her dad on the days he didn’t drink, he’d sit above deck with her and tell her stories of all the adventures he went on, sometimes he’d teach her how to sail, though only while the Jolly Roger was anchored, her favorite days were when they’d go into town and her dad would take her to watch Gaston’s “duels without rules” something he didn’t do with her siblings, only her…it felt special

CJ was thirteen when she snuck into Auradon, she was honestly surprised they hadn’t found her yet, she was hiding in Freddie’s dorm room. She missed her siblings, she wondered about them a lot…not like she could do anything else. She’d think about Harriet, was she worried about her? Was she getting along with their dad alright? How was Harry? Were the voices getting too much? Was he even still alive!? When CJ found herself starting to spiral, she’d pull out the one thing she had from her mother, a little photo of her as baby in her mother’s arms. She’d run her finger over the photo and study it…she really did look like her

CJ never joined her father for a drink, she had rum once with Harry and she thought it was gross, so she just sat with her dad on the deck of the Jolly Roger and listen as he drunkenly rambled about everything in life that had done him wrong. It was a chill spring night, and CJ was sitting with her father, he had been a couple drinks in and had begun to cry, crying about his pain, the pain of losing his wife, the pain of his eldest daughter having to grow up too fast, the pain of his son hearing and seeing things that weren’t there…and the pain of his youngest daughter never truly knowing her mother. CJ didn’t want to see her father cry, so she scooted closer to him and put her head on his shoulder, he eventually wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him, she let her head fall onto his chest…she could hear his heartbeat, it reminded her of when she was little, with her mother, only his wasn’t a gentle flutter, but a low, sorrowful drum, echoing with a lifetime of loss

CJ fell asleep in her father’s arms that night, she may not have known her mother…but she got to know her father, maybe not who he wanted to be, but who he became.

#disney descendants #disney #descendants 3 #harry hook #harriet hook #cj hook #descendants 2 #ouat #killian jones #emma swan #descendants fandom #descendants fanfiction #hook siblings #captain hook

[floral-force]

Sleeping Bounty - Chapter 2

Growing Pains

din djarin x fem reader (no y/n)

summary: 21 years later, a peasant girl awaits her birthday and a Mandalorian begins another hunt while the evil Moff Gideon's frustrations grow over the whereabouts of the missing princess.

warnings: age gap (8 yrs)

words: 1.6k+

read on ao3 | series masterlist

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Din Djarin had been having strange dreams lately.

They weren’t about killing, or death, or violence. For a man who had been a bounty hunter for nearly 10 years, those sorts of dreams and subconscious guilt had been tamed and suppressed. At this point, there was no guilt to be had. No, his dreams were far softer than that.

He dreamt that he was in a forest. In front of him was a woman, beautiful and smiling. They were spinning, trees and bushes blurring together in his vision. She was the center of it all, the only thing holding him together. She leads him to a tree, pressing her back against its trunk and placing her hands on his chest plate, and he can hear her singing to him, and right before Din can stroke her cheek, he wakes up.

He hates admitting that he dreads waking up from that dream. He only recently started to accept his feelings about that.

Din was 29, he had no time for this shit.

And yet.

She haunted him while he slept, her beauty and her voice whisking him away, putting him under her spell. Her plush lips and her gorgeous eyes drawing him in, her smile keeping him in her grasp. To be honest, sometimes, after a hard hunt, Din would fall asleep hoping to dream of her. When his wish was granted, he woke up selfishly hoping for more.

Instead, he found himself back on that forest moon with its backwards kingdom, handing over his bounties to Karga, forcing himself to forget her and to remain undistracted. He focused on his attainable dream: saving enough credits to add some much-needed mods to his reliable ship, the Razor Crest, and salvaging enough beskar for the Armorer to forge him some replacement ammo and supplies for the covert’s foundlings. So far, he had found enough to replace all his armor, and now he needed to collect more only for practical purposes.

“There, Mando. That should be all of it.”

He tilted his helmet. The Mandalorian had been watching intently. “You’re one hundred short, Karga.”

The man sighed and tossed over another credit pack. “Here. Happy?”

“Now that I’m paid? Yes.”

“Ever the businessman.” Karga shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I only tolerate it because you’re my best hunter.”

“I’m your best one? Compared to some of these others, I’m still an amateur.”

“Ah, but you’re a Mandalorian! Your lineage alone puts half of my hunters to shame.”

Din placed his credits in a pouch on his utility belt and rose from his chair. A few jealous eyes watched him, but at this point, he could give a shit. He held out his hand, waiting for Karga to place a couple more pucks in his open palm.

“All business,” Karga mumbled. He placed two pucks in the hunter’s hand. “I only have one that’s worth your time, and before you complain, I have other hunters I need to satisfy. This one isn’t easy—he’s already caused trouble for a few other Guild members, so the bounty went up.”

The Mandalorian nodded, turning and leaving the greasy cantina that the Guild gathered in.

He sighed when he sat back in his pilot’s seat, tapping the holopuck to see the bounty’s face, name, and last known coordinates. To his surprise, the bounty was in a nearby village, so he set out to chart his way to the village as soon as he could.

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, you woke up from a deep sleep, trying to grasp your dream.

It was the same one you’d been having for months: a man with dark brown hair and amber eyes taking your hand, leading you around the forest, and right before you could kiss him, you wake up.

“Cruel,” you mumble, rolling over onto your side.

Sunlight was streaming through the cracks in your windows, prompting you to rise from your bed and stretch, greeting the morning. You quickly slipped out of your nightdress, throwing on one of your plainer brown dresses with relaxed and flowing petticoat. Its long bishop sleeves offered you a little more freedom of movement for doing household or outdoor chores, and the square neckline gave it a modest, but feminine appearance, one you weren’t opposed to.

Yawning, you opened the wooden shutters of your window, leaning on your elbows and looking around. The early morning in the woods brought a sense of tranquility and calm, but this morning felt especially bright. Maybe it was because your birthday; maybe nature knew it was a special day.

Your Aunt Peli had always made sure your birthdays were relaxed, and that you had a present or two waiting for you. This morning, when you walked down to the main living area of the cottage, you noticed her scramble to close a book.

“Oh, Rose! I didn’t expect you to be up so early!” she said, turning around and smiling.

“I’m up a little later than usual, actually,” you commented, smirking. You raised onto your tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of the book. “What are you reading, Aunt Peli?”

“Th-that book? I-it’s really nothing. Something about space.” She shrugged.

“Space?”

“You wouldn’t like it,” she said, turning and pushing it down the wooden table it rested on. She faced you again, wrapping her arms around you. “Happy birthday, my Rose!”

You rolled your eyes—you knew your aunt was up to something. You hugged her back and decided to let your aunt think she had gotten away with her blatant lie.

“What do you have planned for me today?”

“Right now? Hm, let’s see…”

Peli looked around the small area and ran over to grab your woven basket and black shawl.

“Berries! I need you to go pick some more berries for me.”

She was shoving you out of the door, wrapping the shawl over your head and placing the basket in your hand.

“I just picked berries yesterday,” you protested as she opened the cottage door.

“Well, I need more.”

“For what?”

“A…berry…pie. A berry pie!” She exclaimed, pushing you outside. “Remember, don’t go too far, and don’t talk to any strangers!”

You blew a kiss to her, watched her close the door, and you began your walk into the woods surrounding the cottage.

Peli sighed when she saw her Rose disappear into the forest, out of sight and occupied with her pointless errand. Usually, Peli was prepared for Rose’s birthdays, but this year was different due to its significance.

The princess was finally turning 21, and she needed to prepare something suitable for her to wear to meet her parents and her betrothed, Prince Phillip. The book she’d been flipping through was full of sewing patterns, but Peli was anything but talented with a needle and thread. Normally, she would run errands to the nearest village, grab a few pieces of clothing, and patch things up if they tore or ripped. There was no way she’d be able to sew an entire dress for her Rose.

Not only that, but she also wanted to bake a little cake for them to enjoy before leaving for the castle, and she had to clean up the cottage a bit.

Peli looked at the hidden doorknob on one of the tree trunks that ran upwards through the cottage acting as a support pillar. Her wand had been sitting inside that little secret compartment for the past 21 years, and now, it might be safe enough for her to use it. She’d close all the doors and windows, fill all the cracks, and make sure nothing escaped the cottage. She’d give Rose the gown and cake she deserved without incident.

“It’s harmless,” she said, shaking her head and scoffing. “Absolutely harmless.”

Upon the sunrise, the entire kingdom began to gather in anticipation of the princess’s return. King Stefan and Queen Leah awoke with smiles on their faces, knowing that the day had finally arrived, and they’d be meeting their daughter once again, 21 years after they had given her up.

King Stefan had already been alerted that King Hubert had made himself comfortable in the dining hall, and so he readied himself to go spend some time with his lifelong friend, and his daughter's soon-to-be father-in-law.

Far in the distance, Moff Gideon’s domain, the Forbidden Mountain, was thundering with a dark cloud of rage. Throughout the years, the kingdom had come to realize that if it remained, he had failed at finding the princess.

Inside that forbidden castle, the Moff banged his staff and sent his henchmen running in fear.

“Fools!” He yelled, banging it on the ground again. “Idiots!”

He groaned, sinking back into his throne. His raven familiar flew and landed on the arm of it, cawing and staring up at his master.

“They’re a disgrace to the forces of evil,” he sighed in disappointment.

21 years had passed, and he had not managed to find the princess. She had somehow miraculously disappeared. He blamed himself for not keeping a closer eye on her the rest of that day, but he hadn’t anticipated the King and Queen taking any sort of action against him. Stefan’s army was useless against his dark magic, and they both knew that waging a war would only decimate Stefan’s resources and economy.

He ran a finger down his familiar’s back, encouraging it hop onto his hand so he could speak to it.

“You are my last hope, Poe. Circle fair and wide, and search for a maid of 21.” He stood and walked to the edge of the throne’s platform, helping Poe launch into the air. “Go, and do not disappoint me.”

Poe flew out of one of the throne room's arched windows, starting his search over the vast forest in the distance.

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#mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #din x you #din x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #no y/n #the mandalorian au #sleeping beauty au #sleeping bounty #sb #my fic

[echo-bleu]

Hi, for the prompt game, can you write about Míriel for either the prompt ‘dust in the golden light’ or ´The empty space that can’t be breached between you in bed’. And if it’s ok, can you make Míriel have hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, please?

I can’t sew as much as I want because of the pain and Míriel is a comfort character for me in these instances.

This took a while because the prompt grabbed me and ran away, and it grew into so much more 😅 EDS being genetic, I started wondering about who else might have it...

silver

Míriel/Finwë, Celegorm/Oromë, Celebrimbor/Narvi. Three vignettes about chronic pain and learning to accept help. Also on AO3.

1.

Míriel sticks her needle back onto the pin cushion with more force than strictly necessary. She winces and mutters a curse under her breath when it only accentuates the ache in her fingers, and she lies back down on the bed.

She already made that concession, this morning: working from her bed, with a stack of pillows behind her back, rather than using up what little energy she has to sit in her workroom. But it was not enough to lift the fog from her head, nor the throbbing ache from her hands.

She’s not someone who angers easily, but the frustration is – staggering, sometimes. This is her craft. It’s her passion. Embroidery is everything that she is, how she has chosen to define herself – not as a Walker of the Great Journey, or as the Queen of the Noldor, but as the Broideress. And increasingly, more obviously with every year, she is losing it.

She consciously takes a few deep breaths, and lays her hand on the slight swell of her stomach. Pregnancy is making it worse, she knows. She’s been exhausted ever since the begetting, and her pains have taken a sharp edge, where they used to be dull. Maybe once she gives birth, things will get better.

(They won’t.)

She must fall asleep while brooding, because once she wakes, the light outside the window has turned the silver of Telperion. She missed the Mingling, and the better part of the day, and she barely feels any better. It takes her a moment to realize that she was woken by a sound at the door, and she looks up to find Finwë in the doorstep.

He’s changed out of his court robes already, and his head is bare of the crown, his braids half-undone. She’s been struggling to do his hair, too. On bad days like today, even a relatively simple hairstyle takes all the energy she has, leaving none for embroidering. But she won’t give it up for anything.

She smiles tiredly at him.

“Are you hungry, my love?” he asks.

Míriel shakes her head. Pain kills her appetite, as surely as anything. She knows she needs to eat, for the child growing inside her, but she’s too nauseous now to think about it. “Later,” she murmurs. “Come.”

Finwë – her beloved Finwë, still as beautiful as the day she married him – comes to sit down on his side of the bed, not quite close enough to touch her. He reaches out and very carefully brushes her unbound hair from her temple.

He treats her like fine blown glass. The worst is, he’s not wrong to. There are times when the slightest touch can exacerbate her pains like the blow of a hammer. He doesn’t want to hurt her, and she can’t resent him for it.

But she doesn’t know how to ask. How to ask him to put his arms around her and squeeze her tight, not because the pressure helps (it does) but because she wants him to. She wants to feel him. She wants to stop lying in a fog in the dark. She wants to see the beautiful light of the trees in his eyes from up close.

They will have a child, soon. Míriel has seen him – a boy, as dark-haired as his father, as stubborn as her, and yet new and unheard of among the Noldor: brilliant, driven, proud. Full of fire. Fëanáro, he will be. She already loves him more than she can comprehend.

She doesn’t know how she will care for him, when she can barely care for herself, but Finwë will be there. They will be together.

The empty space between them suffocates her.

“Hold me,” she whispers.

Finwë climbs onto the bed.

(Years from now, Returned into the same aching body, she will more clearly see the unravelling threads of their family’s tapestry.

The tragedy was woven into it long before Fëanáro was even born.)

2.

Tyelkormo fumbles with the tinderbox. Checking that his body is still between the firepit and the rest of the Hunt, he tries again, but he can’t seem to get as much as a spark that he could then sing to life. Not that he has much breath left to sing with – they’ve been on the road for too long.

It’s late, past Mingling time, not that it makes much of a difference here. They are so far north that the Trees are just a guiding light in the distance. If they went due east from here, they would end up on the Helcaraxë.

Tyelko’s hands are shaking, despite the furs he’s wearing and the gloves he just removed. His whole body aches. His hip feels like someone tried to tear his leg off. It’s nothing new, but this is his first really long hunt, and before, he’s always managed to heed the warning signs and get back to Tirion before things got this bad.

Finally, he manages to get a single spark, and he hums it into a proper fire. It’s pitiful – the wood is too cold and wet to take properly – but then Tyelko is the only one who needs it, the only elf among the Ainur. The only one who feels the cold.

As soon as the flame is high enough, Huan comes to curl up in front of the fire, his head on Tyelko’s less aching leg, and Tyelko gratefully buries his hands in the hound’s fur.

“Alright there?” asks a voice behind him.

Tyelko twists around and immediately regrets it. His back gives a pop and pain blinds him for a moment. He whines before he can help it.

“Oh dear,” Tilion says. “Something’s wrong, right? That’s not a good elf sound. Lord Oromë!”

He shouts the last out toward the others. Immediately, Oromë is there, in less time that it should have taken him to walk over. Tyelko is still gingerly trying to straighten his back while biting the inside of his cheek to avoid making noises. He’s breathing in short gasps, which just serves to aggravate the pain, but he can’t seem to get enough air.

Oromë crouches beside him, his not-quite-elvish fana glowing softly in the starlight. “What’s wrong, eldanya?”

“Nothing,” Tyelko says through his teeth, though the time for pretence is clearly past. “Moved wrong.” That, at least, is the truth.

Oromë reaches out with a slender hand to cup his chin. “You’re hurting.”

“I’m fine.”

A breeze brushes his mind, but he clamps down hard on his shields – which leaves him breathless again. Huan whines and nuzzles his hand. Tyelko’s teeth are chattering, he realizes dimly, and the fire has almost gone out. He struggles to get air into his lungs, and the air that comes is cold and biting.

Fuck, they’re weeks away from the closest settlement, and he’s not going to be able to stand up come morning. What is he supposed to do? The Ainur don’t understand pain – don’t understand elven bodies at all. They don’t need to eat, or sleep. They’ve been humouring him so far, but he can feel their impatience at times. If he’s to ride with the Hunt, he needs to keep up.

Trust his body to betray him at the worst possible moment.

“What do you need?” Oromë asks in a tone so gentle that Tyelko breaks.

“To lie down,” he murmurs pitifully. “And to get warmer.”

“Build the tent,” Oromë orders Tilion.

Tyelko closes his eyes, almost unconsciously leaning into Oromë’s touch. His hand, glowing a pale white, is slowly radiating warmth, and it blissfully travels down his spine, taking the edge off the pain.

“Come on, eldanya,” is his only warning before an arm slips under his knees and he is lifted off the ground. Tyelko lets out an undignified yelp of surprise as he finds himself suddenly in Oromë’s solid arms.

Huan follows them under the tent. Tyelko is gently deposited onto a bed of furs, and Oromë stays kneeling at his side, his hands slowly warming him up on each side of his ribcage. Huan settles down at his feet.

“You should leave me here,” Tyelko murmurs.

Oromë tilts his chin, his way of indicating surprise. “Do you want me to leave the tent?”

“No, I mean for the hunt. I’m only slowing you down.”

That’s it, that’s the moment Oromë will finally see. See how much of a failure Tyelko is, how little he deserves the attention of one so great. He’ll gather the others and leave Tyelko here to – die, he supposes. Or maybe he’ll take pity on him and delay long enough to deposit him back in Tirion, for Grandfather’s sake, and wash his hands of him.

“It’s too cold for you here, I think,” Oromë says with an uncomprehending frown. “I did not realize. I still have much to learn of the Eldar. We’ll go south once you have slept.”

“You don’t get it,” Tyelko grits out. He pushes Oromë’s hands away, and immediately mourns their warmth. “I can’t even walk. You’ll have to carry me.”

“That’s not a problem,” Oromë says lightly, completely missing the bitterness in his tone. “You are very light.”

Tyelko sighs and closes his eyes, dejected. The pain in his back is slowly easing, but his hip is only screaming louder, and he just wants it all to stop. “You should leave me behind. I’m not fit for any of this. I’m not fit for you.”

Warm – nearly too hot – hands cupping his face make him open his eyes. Oromë’s terribly intense gaze is drilling into his, searching. “Tyelkormo, eldanya, what have I done to make you think that you are not enough for me?”

Tyelko gapes for a moment, lost in the swirling silver eyes he loves so much. Oromë does not breach his mind, but he brushes it again, softly, just making his presence known. Tyelko exhales and drops his shields, bonelessly falling back onto the furs.

“I—” he mutters. “I’m not… Something’s wrong with my body. I can’t be a good hunter. I’m not even a good elf.”

“What is wrong?” Oromë asks.

“I get pains in my joints. Sometimes they move in ways they shouldn’t.” Tyelko considers detailing, talking about the dislocations and the gut pains and the bruises, but Oromë barely knows anything about elven bodies. “Sometimes it hurts too much to walk. Grandfather says that Grandmother had it, too.”

Because he’s still staring into them, Tyelko can see the brief flash of fear in Oromë’s eyes. It’s gone almost as soon as it starts. Tyelko shivers – it’s not like he’s never wondered. Will Míriel’s fate will be his, too? Father says not to worry, but Father is terrifyingly good at ignoring the things that scare him, sometimes.

“Have you seen Estë?” Oromë asks softly.

“She gave me water from Lórellin that helps with the pain a little, but I can’t carry it with me.”

“I can carry it. I will go ask her for more. Is there anything else I can do?”

Tears well up in Tyelko’s eyes, and he’s powerless to fight them. “The warmth,” he whispers. “Feels good.” He guides Oromë’s hand down to his hurting hip, where the heat seeps into his tissues and eases some of the tension. Oromë shifts into a more comfortable position against his side, lying more than kneeling, their bodies presses together.

“Eldanya, you are a good hunter, and I want you in my hunt,” he says. Then, after a breath, “You are good, and I want you.”

Tyelko buries his face in his shoulder.

(Years from now, he will remember this night, and wonder when he left good behind.

His fate is so much worse than Míriel’s, after all, and it’s all of his own making.)

3.

“Got a new one for you, Kibil.”

Celebrimbor looks up from his console, where he’s sitting on one of the rolling stools that were a gift from his colleagues of the Guild. Narvi is standing at the door, holding something metallic in their hand. He sees their gaze go from the neat row of silver ring splints on the console, to the roll of bandages in his hands, to his bare torso and slumped posture.

“Bad day?” they ask without detour.

Celebrimbor shrugs, lets his own gaze travel to his aching hands, and nods. Given that he’s been trying to muster the energy to do his compression bandages and put a shirt on for about an hour, it probably qualifies as a bad day.

Narvi doesn’t live with him, though their relationship is hardly a secret among the Gwaith-i-Mírdain. They come and go, sometimes staying in their own apartment in the eastern quarter. They need their privacy, and Celebrimbor is more than ready to respect that.

Besides, he too often forgoes his own bed for the heat of the forges, and dwarves need to sleep more than elves.

Narvi shuts the door behind them, steps closer to set the object in their hand on the console – it’s another silver splint, a prototype for a design they’ve been working on together – and very gently nudges Celebrimbor toward the bed. Even sitting down, he’s half a head taller than them, but they’re more than stubborn enough to make up the difference. When Celebrimbor makes a token gesture of resistance, they simply kick the rolling stool closer to the bed. “Lie down,” they order. “You’re staying right here today.”

“But—”

“No. Bad days are bad days. Isn’t that what you keep telling me?”

Celebrimbor gamely rolls his eyes, knowing when he’s defeated. He’s worked hard to build a system of mutual aid in the forges and the workshops. Craft masters tend to be fiercely competitive and jealously guard their work, but the very purpose of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain is that they make better things by cooperating, by bringing together diverse crafts and races both. The assistants and apprentices, and even most of the other masters, now smoothly step in to help on the days Narvi’s arthritic hands refuse to hold tools.

“You’re not supposed to turn it back on me,” Celebrimbor says.

“Oh, really?” Narvi gently pushes his shoulders until he’s lying down fully. “So it applies to everyone but you?”

Celebrimbor just smiles. Until Narvi got here, until they became close…

For all its purported equality, he’s still the Lord of Ost-en-Edhil. He built the city, built the guild house and the guild itself – he started it all by himself, because few would work with a Fëanorian. Galadriel was the Lady of Eregion on paper, but she never cared about building. She was only there to judgementally watch over his shoulder and slap his fingers whenever she thought that he sounded too much like his grandfather.

He’s the oldest of the guild masters. Half of them were his apprentices at one point or another, and the other came to the city with little to their name beside their craft. They’re misfits, outcasts, dispossessed – just like he was. Celebrimbor takes care of each of them and learns their habits in the forge, their dreams and aspirations, their pains and heartbreaks. But always he keeps himself at a distance.

He’s learned the hard way not to let people get too close.

His family was never perfect, but they were always supportive. From the moment Celebrimbor started feeling the aches, a scant few years after Maedhros abdicated, they rallied around him to help. It was Celegorm who first showed him how to support his joints with compression bandages. Celegorm who taught him to recognize the right herbs for the painkilling teas, who carved him his first cane from a sturdy oak branch.

Celegorm who stayed in Himlad with them, rather than set out for lands of his own.

Father worked with him on his first splint prototypes. Maedhros always popped his bad shoulder back in without squirming. Maglor taught him songs to calm the inflammations. Caranthir was the first to find dwarves with a similar illness, and learned their lore. Ambarussa were always eager to distract him from the pain with stories and games.

Celebrimbor lost all of that in Nargothrond.

“You take care of everyone,” Narvi says. “But who takes care of you?”

I don’t need anyone, Celebrimbor wants to answer, but he looks down at his bare chest, the slightly inflamed scars from his breast removal that he hasn’t been ointing regularly, his left arm that he can no longer raise past his shoulder for lack of the right stretching exercises, his aching, curled fingers, and he stays silent.

“Guess I’ll have to do the job myself,” Narvi says with a mock-sigh. “Flip over, I’ll massage your shoulder.”

As they straddle his back and knead their knuckles into his sore shoulder, Celebrimbor wonders if that’s what it’s like, to have someone outside of family who truly cares. Someone who is there for the bad days as well as the good, who doesn’t think less of him for them.

He’s been yearning for it for a long time, he realizes.

His city is open and welcoming to all, but maybe it’s time he opens himself up, too. As much as Celebrimbor hates to think of it, Narvi won’t be around forever. But starting with them, maybe, with their help, he can learn to trust others again.

(Years from now, Narvi, aged and nearing the end of their life, will be very proud to see Celebrimbor wholly welcome a newcomer into his life.

They will never see how it ends.)

-

Oromë calls Celegorm "eldanya" (my elf/elda). Since Oromë was the one who found the elves and first named them Eldar, it takes on a few added layers of meaning.

Narvi calls Celebrimbor "Kibil", which means "silver" in Khuzdul. Khuzdul is kept secret by dwarves, but since it's likely a borrowing from Sindarin (celeb), I don't think anyone would mind, plus Celebrimbor may have learned at least some Khuzdul with Aulë.

Also, I do art! This Celebrimbor piece was conceived as a companion to the fic, and you can see what the silver ring splints look like (they're a real thing btw). And this Celegorm sketch prompted his inclusion here.

And my disabled Tolkien characters tag for more.

Reblogs and comments make my day!

#silmarillion #silm #silm fic #tolkien #the silmarillion #celebrimbor #narvi #celegorm #orome #miriel #finwe #disabled tolkien characters #disabled characters #disability representation #eds #ehlers danlos syndrome #echo's fanfiction #feanorians

[dilf-whore]

Can I request one where y/n and Steve where dating before he got with Nacy and they have break up because he’s starts having feelings for nacy but what he doesn’t know is that she was pregnant. Maybe a time skip to season 3 where he works at scopes ahoy and that’s when he finds out??? (Plot twist robin knows this whole time because there bestie)

second chance

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: teenage pregnancy (?), mentions of patriarchy and all those misogynistic shit.

A/N: okay i don’t know if i did well but this is fucking long, it’s 2.3k words lol. please let me know your comments/feedbacks, i wanna know what you think and i hope you guys like it 🫶🏻

requested: yes

requests are OPEN

masterlist

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Look, I’m so-”

“D-don’t apologize, just leave, Steve, please” You cut him off, crossing your arms as you look away and bite your lip, stopping yourself from breaking down in front of him. Steve Harrington, your boyfriend since freshman year, the love of your life, just broke up with you. He couldn't seem to directly tell you but you know he’s trying to say that he’s fallen out of love for you and that his heart screams for Nancy.

You’ve been noticing these past few weeks that Steve and Nancy are getting close and hanging out more often - he’s even seeing her more than you.

Soon, you’ve figured that there’s something going on between the two, you wanted to talk to him but you were too scared, too scared to confirm your suspicions that he does in fact no longer have feelings for you.

Steve nods and walks out of your room, he didn't want to go but it’s for the best, he just broke your heart and he knows that getting out of your sight is the right thing to do. 

You crouch down and hug your knees, loud sobs echoing through your room and hands tugging on your hair from self-frustration as tears stream down your face. The pain’s too much to handle, your heart’s crushed into pieces and it’s gonna take a long time to put them back together - or maybe, not at all.

After a while of crying, you suddenly feel a wave of nausea and quickly run to the bathroom, you start to vomit as soon as you enter. You begin to shake from the painful, violent, and involuntary contracting of your stomach. 

The vomiting finally comes to an end and you lean on the wall, your body weak and frail. You were trying to calm your breathing and get rid of your dizziness when a realization hits you,

I missed my period.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

7 months have passed and you never came to contact with Steve about your pregnancy, you don’t even know what’s happening in his life anymore. You were grateful that your parents still accepted and supported you through the past months and thankfully, you already graduated before your bump started to grow. 

No one knows about the child growing in you - except for your best friend, Robin. She stuck by your side and bought you all the foods you craved, she would cover up for you whenever you’d suddenly rush to the bathroom to throw up, and now that she wanted to get a summer job before college, Robin decided to work at your favorite ice cream place: Scoops Ahoy so she could sneak in some free ice cream for you and your baby. 

Now here you are at Starcourt carefully wobbling like a penguin as you walk through and go to your best friend. The mall was pretty full since it’s newly opened and people are excited to come and see what’s in store. You put a protective hand over your bump and carefully head towards Scoops Ahoy, you spot a few familiar people from school and they were looking at you with shock looks on their faces - some were whispering to one another. You feel uneasy but you try to brush it off.

You’ve learned over time to just mind your own business and avoid them but sometimes it’s hard to do so when you’re by yourself.

You catch your breath once you arrive at the ice cream parlor, the extra weight from the growing bump makes it harder for you to do normal daily tasks and tires you quicker than usual.

Your exhaustion goes away when your eyes land on your best friend with a huge smile on her face, “Robin, you got the usual?” you ask, reciprocating her smile. She takes out a cone with two scoops of your favorite flavor, overloaded with toppings. You squeal in delight and Robin rushes towards you so didn’t have to walk more, “only the best for my best friend and my niece or nephew” she says, handing you the huge cone of ice cream. Without hesitation, you start devouring the dessert - the sweet, milky, coldness of it sends happiness and content to your taste buds, “you’re the best! Oh and, I don’t want you to lose your job, so I’ll pay for all the ice cream I took” you grab money in your pocket shove it to Robin. “Don’t give it back”.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Steve groans as he opens the door, Dustin and his friends have been passing through Scoops Ahoy’s back door to get in the movies and watch for free. Steve still complies despite his complaints and protests - he just can’t say no to those kids. “I swear to God, if you get caught-“

“You’ll be in trouble. We know!” they say in unison.

Steve shooks his head and closes the door. His body freezes as soon as he hears the familiar voice, the voice of the person he hurt the most, whom he hasn’t seen for a while, - the voice of the girl he misses so much. 

He slowly approaches the window and slides it partially open, but big enough for his face to be seen.

It’s her.

His heart beat speeds up, a rush of emotions come shooting at him with no warning. Is he nervous? happy? scared? delighted?, he’s not sure what exactly but he does know one thing, he’s ashamed - the feeling that’s been stuck in him for a long time. How could he break up with you for someone who never really loved him? Karma is what happened to him; Nancy leaving him for Jonathan was a taste of his own medicine and he knows he deserved it.

Steve always thought of talking to you, you never left his mind. But, he’s afraid of how you’ll respond.

Steve watches you talk with his co-worker, he’s a bit confused, you seemed very comfortable with Robin. Since when did they become this close? he thought. Despite half of you being covered by Robin in his view, you were still pretty as ever, it’s like seeing you for the first time again, he always loved the way your eyes form into crescent-like shapes when you smile. Steve can’t help but smile too as you look so happy and invested in whatever you’re talking about and not to mention, glowing.

“So, I’m going to the doctor next week Tuesday to find out the baby’s gender. Can you come with me?” you ask Robin, taking another lick on your ice cream. 

She gives you an apologetic look, “I have a shift on that day. I’ll make it up to you! I promise!” she replies, putting a hand up as she shows her sincerity. You pat her arm, “don’t worry, I understand. I’ll just...” your voice trails off when you spot him, your smile going away. 

Robin sees the change in your expression and look at your direction, “I’m sorry, I didn't tell you. Steve’s also working here” she says softly.

Steve’s eyes together with yours, grow wide when you made eye contact. He doesn't know what to do; should he come out? should he hide? should he talk to you?. He gets more surprised when Robin turns around, finally getting a better view of you, his attention lands on your growing tummy, you’re pregnant. 

You look at him and down on your bump, in spite of trying to avoid him all this time, part of you still wanted to see Steve. 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Robin goes to Steve, “way to ruin the day”

“Why didn't you tell me you were friends with Y/N?” he asks. Robin crosses her arm, her demeanour changing into a protective and annoyed one, “why should I? You broke by best friend’s heart and took everything away from Y/N by getting her pregnant!”. 

“What do you mean getting her pregnant?” confusion and shock plastered all over his face. Robin rolls her eyes and takes in a deep breath, he’s getting on her nerves. “She’s 7 months pregnant, do the math”.

There was brief tensed silence between them, “oh shit” he gasps.

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’. Y/N never dated anyone after you, how can she anyways? No one would want to go out with someone who’s a carrying a baby that’s not theirs. She can’t even go out that much, she’s scared of people’s stares, eyes that says ‘you’re a slut’ to her face. You know how lucky you are? You’re so lucky because you’re a man, no one cares if you get a girl pregnant and leave them or if you fuck many girls - you’ll get praised even! But for us, women? even the smallest thing like our clothes can make us a whore. Pregnant or has a fatherless child? a whore. Fucks as many boys as you? a whore. It’s not fair”

“I never told you because I don’t think you deserve to. She’s all by herself with a child growing inside of her. She’s scared” Robin adds, her face turning red.

Steve looks down and carefully listens to Robin’s outburst. 

She’s right.

A tear rolls down his cheek, how could he let you go through this alone? how could he go on to the next girl like you’re an object?. He puts a hand on his forehead, he’s disappointed in his self

Robin looks at him, she could see his guilt and realization. Ever since she started working with him this summer, she noticed the change in him, he wasn't the asshole she used to see back in school, he’s no longer the Steve she knows. She saw it with the way he took care of the curly-haired boy and his friends. The old Steve would’ve made fun of them or not look at them at all, thinking that those kids are weirdos. And seeing how he’s rescting now just confirms that he did change.

“But you know, she still wants to reach out to you and maybe, you should try and go to Y/N” 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The day went drastically slow for Steve, he’s been out of it, he can’t focus on the job as his mind keeps coming back to you, thinking of what to say when he talks to you tonight after his shift.

They’ve finally closed the ice cream parlor, and he goes straight to your place with Robin.

They arrive at your doorstep, still in their uniforms and Robin knocks on your door with Steve fidgeting on the hem of his shorts, waiting behind her.

After a moment, you finally open the door and meet the two. “Can we come in?” Robin asks.

You don’t say anything and just move aside to let them in, it’s like your mouth glued shut. “He’s got something to tell you. I’m gonna go to the kitchen and give you space. Call my name when you need me”. Robin leaves you both before you could even reply.

You sigh and face Steve, “I h-honestly don’t know where to start” he speaks up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything, I really am. I wasted the girl who loved me with all of her heart and cared for me, I threw away the relationship with who I was the happiest with. You’re always on my mind, Y/N. I never stopped loving you - god I know that sounds stupid after all that I’ve done but believe me it’s true”

He starts to choke on his words, “I don’t fucking know what I was thinking back then and i-it’s not even a valid excuse. But please give me a chance, let me be there for you and the baby, our baby. I want to be in your lives. I’ll do anything you ask me to. Just, please” he sobs, approaching you and holding on your arms with a pleading grip on them.

“The past few months have been hard for me but, it doesn’t compare to yours and I’m the one to blame. I completely understand if you no longer wanna be with me and have to do anything with me. I’ll be out of your sight but let me at least help support the baby. I know money’s not gonna fix everything you’ve been through, I just want to try to make it up to you, j-just tell me what to do”

Tears are streaming down your face. It was the very first time you saw him cry, he always hid his emotions and stopped himself from breaking in tears in front of everyone, seeing him like this makes you realize that he’s sincere.

“You know I can’t forgive you just like that, you left me in a ditch and you weren’t there when I needed you the most” you reply, Steve nodding in response, his face full of shame. “But I-I want you to be there for our child, I want you to be the one to see them grow up, be there as a father”.

His body perks up, “And for me, I-I don’t know how long it’ll take. I wanna take things slow”.

He pulls you into a hug, his tears not stopping, “I don’t care how long, even if it takes years, I-I don’t care, I’ll take it. I’ll be by your side for now on. Just, just tell me where to start” .

He pulls away when Robin’s voice erupts from the kitchen, “you can start by going with her to the doctor next week, I’ll cover up for you”. Steve looks back at you, anticipating on what you have to say, hoping you’re be okay with the idea.

“It’s on Tuesday, at 10am. We’ll find out if it’s a boy or a girl” you say with a soft smile on your face.

“Oh my God, I’ll pick you up. Thank you, thank you, I won’t let you down” he responds with delight, putting a hand on your belly as he looks at your unborn baby. You gave him a second chance and he won’t waste it, the thought of having a small version of you and him running around in the future gets him all excited.

Steve swears from now on to do everything with you together.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things headcannons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things scenarios #stranger things oneshot #stranger things blurb #stranger things angst #stranger things fluff #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington scenarios #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington headcannons #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #angst #fluff

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Body

The comb slides smoothly through Wei Ying's hair, straightening out the long, damp strands. Lan Zhan watches his own hands guide through the motions, enamored with his beloved's hair, the healthy shine and texture of it.

He has dreamt so much of simple moments such as this, warm, private and domestic, just the two of them, tucked inside their home, away from the world. They have just finished some bathtub-breaking activities, and Lan Zhan offered to brush through Wei Ying's hair and braid it before bed - and Wei Ying let him, drowsy and content as he got every time after they made love.

They just bought a little vanity from the foreign merchants convoy that passed through Caiyi Town every spring - so Wei Ying is sat in front of it, staring at his reflection as his husband combs his hair.

Lan Zhan's eyes inevitably move from watching his hands to looking at Wei Ying's reflection in the mirror. He seems focused, scrutinizing his features with a nostalgic glint in his eyes. He is thinking hard about something, lost in it, and doesn't even seem to notice Lan Zhan has stopped moving.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, methodically separating three large strands of hair for a loose braid.

"Nothing... I guess I just... miss being me."

Lan Zhan makes an inquisitive noise as his fingers start skillfully building the braid. Wei Ying continues. "Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful that Mo Xuanyu offered me his body and this second chance to live, really live - but... sometimes I wish I could do it in my body."

There is a pause. Wei Ying has more to say, so Lan Zhan does not break the silence, carefully continuing his ministrations.

"It's really difficult to put this into words..." Wei Ying begins again, "It's like... when you grow up, you learn how pain feels like, or what it's like when you're hungry or tired or happy - you learn how all that feels for you in particular. You get used to it. You are familiar with it... but for me the body I'm in now is so foreign..."

Lan Zhan hums a sympathetic noise and leans to leave a kiss on the crown of Wei Ying's head.

"I know when something hurts or when I want something, it's just... this body just feels different from how my own did. I feel like I'm... mismatched. Like a doll sewn in a slightly lopsided way."

Lan Zhan finishes the braid and gently lays it on Wei Ying's right shoulder, before beginning to lightly massage him.

"You know... when we were piecing together Chifeng-Zun's body, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to find my own... I know that's not possible because I got torn to shreds, but..."

Lan Zhan wraps his arms around his husband and leans slightly so that he rests his chin on the top of Wei Ying's head. Their gazes meet in the mirror.

"I don't know if this makes any sense. It doesn't make much to me either, I can't expect you to understand it, Lan Zhan. But... don't you ever wish I still looked like the person you fell in love with?"

"You are the person I fell in love with. No matter what you look like, you are you, and I love you for it."

"Lan Zhan..."

"It doesn't matter to me what body you're in, as long as it's you in there. I may never understand what you are feeling, but know I will want you and love you regardless of your appearance."

The tops of Wei Ying's cheeks dusted pink, and a little smile graced his features at last. "You always know what to say to make me feel better, Lan Zhan."

"I only speak from the heart."

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts