#just flailing about trying to figure out how you Relationship
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Standin’ on a Cloud; Eddie Munson ☁️
summary: your boyfriend eddie is a sweetheart, but you already knew that.
word count: 1.2K
warnings: fem!r, established relationship, fluff fluff and more fluff, nicknames (babe, baby, angel, darling, sweetums)
a/n: based on my favvvv song angel by madonna <3 i just want eddie in my room goofing around and maybe also kissing me silly :(
“My darlingest darling,” Eddie coos suddenly, buttering you up from his perch at your vanity. You glance up at him from where you’re lounging on the bed, reading a magazine. He’s been in your room for all of thirty minutes and he’s already trying to accost you.
“What do you want?” you reply bluntly, making Eddie let out a shocked laugh.
“Want?” he starts, and you know he’s about to be facetious. “Whatever do you mean, sweetums?” he teases, standing to approach your bed. “I only desire your precious time.”
You love the way Eddie moves. He’s like a dog that grew up with cats, slinking clumsily, if there ever was such a movement.
“You’re so full of it,” you whisper with faux sweetness, drawing a finger down the crease of the Rolling Stone you bought on a whim at the supermarket.
“Full of…what? Love? Full of love?” You laugh at Eddie’s absurdity and sudden closeness, his hip leant on the bed and his body folding in half to meet you face-to-face.
“Yes, of course,” you answer, “how did you know that’s what I meant?”
Eddie smiles lazily, his face slightly red from hanging sideways.
“Just one of the many super-boyfriend-powers I possess, babe. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah, right.” You close your magazine.
With much less accusation, and double the fondness, you ask again: “What do you want?
Eddie squints like he’s not sure he can trust you. He decidedly crawls up onto the bed using only his knees, shirt riding up and arms flailing.
“Um,” he begins mindlessly, trying not to clip you in his fuss to lie down. He settles in beside you, propping his head up on his hand, eyes mischievous.
“I was just wondering,” says Eddie, "if my gorgeous girlfriend would do me a flavor and paint my nails for me?”
“A flavor,” you repeat with a small smile, pretending to read a headline about Wham! while Eddie’s warmth distracts you. Eddie hums confidently in return, like there’s nothing amiss with his word choice. Turning your head to look at him, your mouth curls into a grin. “What color y’want?”
Eyes alight, Eddie rolls off the bed, presumably to raid your polish stores if he hasn’t already. Your stereo is playing a tape that Eddie sweetly curated for you, with rock ballads and indie jams he thought you’d like, and you belatedly recognize the song playing. As Eddie sifts through your colors he absently sings along, shocking you.
“—can see it in your eyes, full of wonder and surprise—” His rich timbre takes the tune on effortlessly, like he’s heard it a hundred times before.
“I thought you were against Madonna,” you mention, watching his back. He looks up at you through the vanity mirror, cutting his singing off before the chorus. Realizing he’s been caught, he sighs heavily.
“Well, yknow I was, but I think I’ve changed my tune.” Distracted, he turns around, leaning on the messy table to properly talk to you. “Cause you left that Virgin tape in my van, right?—and I was just gonna retire the poor thing but…”
“But you liked it?” you anticipate, perhaps a touch too excited to have this one thing over him.
“No,” Eddie says awkwardly, holding his mouth in an o for a moment. “But!—you played this one on the drive to Steve’s that day and I, uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, strangely sheepish.
“You what?”
Eddie spins around, back in business with your nail lacquer. You almost don’t hear him when he shyly continues.
“I guess it sorta reminded me of you,” he admits, shoving his hair behind his ear nervously.
Your stomach churns with want, a honeypot of sweetness as your eyes trace over Eddie’s figure. You’re so used to him in your room now, despite how out of place he is—dark and moody against your bright and girlish decor. Perhaps it’s because your room has obtained some Eddie-adjacent additions as time goes on: rock records and DND game items. It feels good to know that you have the same effect on him, and you’re suddenly glad you left that tape in his car. The image of him singing Angel on his way to see you is almost overwhelming.
When he finally picks a color, the song is wading into the bridge, and Eddie’s face is still pink. Madonna croons through your grainy speakers as he returns to you—I believe that dreams come true, ‘cause you came when I wished for you... Despite his blatant embarrassment, Eddie dances on the way back to the bed, almost like he can’t help it.
“Well, that’s funny,” you say, finally wrestling out of your thoughts.
Eddie entertains you, shaking the bottle of paint he’d settled on—too quickly for you to make out which it is. “Why so?”
Confidently, knowing exactly what it’d do to him, you say, “I always thought this song was about you.”
Eddie is kneeing his way onto the bed once more, his bottom lip caught under his teeth. He doesn’t lie down again, staying on his knees above you, so you flip over to avoid craning your neck.
“Babe, I’m a metalhead,” Eddie reminds you seriously, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of you. He looks completely wrecked from your statement, but he’s doing a commendable job of pretending he disliked it. He says: “You can’t go calling me an angel or you’re gonna ruin my rep.”
Grinning, you push up onto your elbows to eat up even more of the space between you and your boyfriend.
“Well, you’d better stop being such a sweetie and making me mixes with Madonna on them, then.”
Eddie inches closer.
“But how else will I tell you what a doll you are?” he goads, and his breath warms your lips.
“Um…head banging?” you suggest helpfully. Eddie shakes his head gently so his curtain of hair tickles your face, making you giggle. He places an affectionate peck over your smile and then leans back on his haunches.
Sitting up all the way, you look to his ring-heavy hands.
“Okay, what color did we pick?”
Hesitantly, Eddie unfolds his fist to reveal a hollow box of glass on his palm, undeniably pink from the varnish it encapsulates. It doesn’t escape you that the exact same shade sits on your own fingernails. Looking up to catch his eye, you watch his face flush.
“What was that about being a metalhead?” you tease, unable to resist. Eddie makes like he’s going to get up and pick a new color but you jump to stop him. “Oh, Eds, I’m only kidding!”
“Do you think people will laugh?” Eddie asks, and he’s oddly sincere. You pull your head back, somewhat surprised that he’d even care, but then again, most of Eddie’s song and dance about non-conformity is just that: performance. He believes it, of course, but only because he has to—because he’s not like everyone else. It’s almost impossible to be impervious to judgment, and you also think Eddie might be more worried about your guys’ friends than anyone else.
“Maybe,” you tell him, not willing to lie. “But it’s just polish. You can take it off and pretty much anybody would forget the next day. Or you could flip ‘em a pretty pink middle finger, too, ‘cause they should mind their own damn business.”
A sweet smile curls onto Eddie’s face, his brown eyes melting and gooey. He brushes a quick thumb over your jaw as a thank-you of sorts.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you confirm, “yeah, I think it’s metal.”
Eddie surges forward, attacking your lips with his own. The kiss is short-lived, one closed-mouth press, but what it lacks in duration it makes up for in sweetness.
“‘Kay,” he agrees, moving to sit against your headboard. “Make me pretty.”
Crawling onto his lap obediently, you say, “Can’t make you something y’already are, angel.”
Eddie’s face turns as pink as his nails end up later.
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thank u for reading <3
masterlist
#eddie munson#stranger things#hugs hugs hugs and more hugs#sickening amounts of fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson blurb#stranger things fanfiction#fluff
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i'm not pregnant
“wait,” you blink. “lando, what did you just say?”
lando stares at you, gaping wordlessly as he tries to find his words for a response. he presses his lips together into a thin line as he sighs. “you heard me. don’t make me say it again.”
you tilt your head and scrunch your nose. “okay… but why?”
surely lando isn’t the type of guy to say he loves you after spending a night together, right? a night in bed doing things that would ruin both of you if it ever got out. it would surely ruin your reputation, your relationship with your brother, and then lando’s friendship with said brother.
“um,” lando hums. he scrunches his nose and looks up at the ceiling. frankly, he’s got no idea where that came from either. “you know…”
“i actually don’t.”
you try and figure out where he’s coming from. prior to hooking up that night you spent in the club, you didn’t really talk much. it was all friendly, smiling at him when you would pass him, but never much actual conversation that would make you consider him a friend.
to you, he’s just your brother’s teammate.
and you know that he feels the same way. because the morning after you spent the night together, he woke up groggy and started rambling about how oscar should never find out about this.
despite being his older sister, oscar is oddly protective of you. perhaps it’s the close relationship you’ve got that made him feel like it’s his duty to make sure your life is never hard. and lando knows that the day would finally come that oscar flips shit if he ever finds out that he’d slept with his sister.
lando always thought you were cute, sure, but he was well aware of the fact that you’ll always be oscar’s older sister to him. the older sister that he desperately always wanted to be friends with but could never muster up the courage to hold a proper conversation with. but he doesn’t like you like that.
when he did eventually muster up the courage, it was only unfortunate that it happened when you were all in the club together. he had flown too close to the sun, unexpectedly dragging you into bed with him. that’s not what he had planned, for the record. he just wanted a kickstart to your friendship.
“i overheard you when you were on the phone the other day,” lando starts softly, swaying side to side as he sighs. “something about missing your period and throwing up this morning.”
your eyebrows remain furrowed, still in confusion with where he’s going at. “you were eavesdropping on my phone call?”
“no! absolutely not!” lando flails his arms in the air to clear your accusations. “no! i happened to be walking by oscar’s driver’s room at the time. and, well, i was just worried, you know? that is, assuming i’m the last guy you’ve been with in the past month.”
“so you’re saying that i sleep around?”
“no!” lando cries, hands going into his hair to tug at the roots. “that’s not what i meant at all! i-”
“then what do you mean?”
you almost want to laugh at the panic that’s taking over lando. and you would, if there isn’t some point of contention with the miscommunication you’re currently having. if you were more sure about the point he’s trying to get at, you’d be more receptive of the funniness of the situation.
lando looks at you, waiting for you to connect the dots yourself. he hums after a couple seconds of silence. “you could be pregnant?”
“oh!” you feel stupid for not noticing sooner. you throw your head back with a soft laugh and shake your head. “no. no, i’m not. i missed my period because i suddenly started exercising more, and i threw up because i was genuinely sick the other night.”
“oh,” lando sighs in relief, hunching over with a hand on his chest. “oh, thank god. really? you’re not pregnant?”
you nod as you feel a laugh bubbling from your stomach. you’ve finally caught up to lando’s agenda. “yes. i’m for sure not pregnant. is that– is that why you said what you said?”
he drops to his knees, nodding his head. “i didn’t know what to do. it just came out before i could ask you the question,” he laughs, shaking his head. “how chaotic would that have been, right? imagine if you really were?”
you put a hand on his shoulder. “let’s not dwell on things that shouldn’t happen.”
his panic is absolutely understandable, and saying that he loves you is mild compared to what else he could have done. and you’re glad. “you look kinda shaken up — do you wanna go and grab some coffee?”
@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @namgification @sakuramxchii @kissesandmartini
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke isily
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processes of the heart
yuta is in love with you. maddeningly so.
his love manifests in the form of his heartbeat, in the form of his blood circulation—yuta's love is everywhere, and what once was explained by scientists in an effort to further the understanding of the human body has only furthered yuta's understanding of his love.
his love for you.
okkotsu yuta ♡ gn!reader
warnings: a lot of biology terms & metaphors, yuta is super lovesick, pre-established relationship, incorrect bio facts (do not trust panda and yuta)
notes: i hope yuta moves away to a remote island in the middle of nowhere where it is safe and sound and he doesnt have to fight ever again
"oh, what a shame!" panda exclaims, looking at the clock. "it's my bedtime! i can't watch the movie with you guys, sorry!"
"salmon," toge says, following panda out of the living room with a nonchalant shrug.
"same. i have to go train," maki adds, standing up.
you and yuta stare at each other with confused expressions as, one by one, your classmates file out of the living room, suddenly abandoning their longtime tradition of having a movie night once a month.
"do you need to go too, yuta?" you ask apprehensively. yuta quickly shakes his head, his hands coming to flail around his figure as he fumbles over his words, trying to reassure you.
"no, don't worry,"—it's during times like these, with just the two of you, that yuta returns to his nervous first-year self—"i have plenty of time."
for you, his mind adds. he bites back his words, choosing to relish in the relief that sweeps over your face like a golden light, giving your features a glow that permeates in the crevices of his mind.
thump-thump. for some reason, yuta becomes all-too aware of the race of his heart.
"good," you say, smiling at him with that smile of yours. his heart stutters; his hands become clammy as he wipes them against the side of his shirt, feigning ignorance to the way his fingers tremble a little, the way his chest hurts a little.
yuta tries his best not to acknowledge the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way your gaze drifts towards the television screen, unaware of how he stares at you. oh, yuta wonders if you'll ever notice—if you'll ever notice the way he looks at you, the way he adores you. he wonders if you'll ever, for just a second, notice him the way he notices you.
just a second is enough.
because yuta is a witness—your witness—and the way you furrow your brows when you concentrate, and the way you mutter something under your breath when the main character does something stupid doesn't go unnoticed by him.
whenever something exciting happens, your eyes light up, as if your irises were made of fragments from the night sky, cut out and shaped just for you.
you shiver. yuta notices.
(when has he not?)
"are you cold?" he asks, despite already knowing the answer. yuta knows a lot about you. he knows you're going to dismiss his question, because you're always trying your best to not be anyone's burden.
but you can be my burden, yuta thinks, waiting for you to respond. he waits a lot; but yuta likes it that way. he would rather be the one waiting than making you wait, after all.
you blink owlishly, shocked that he noticed.
(when has he not?)
when you look at him, yuta feels something creep up his throat. when you look at him, yuta takes a deep breath, as if he's trying to breathe you in like oxygen, letting your presence meld into his blood and travel to all the parts of his body, fueling his existence.
the process begins with oxygen—your being—diffusing into his lungs. his heart then pumps blood to catch a wisp of you, and your being travels to the capillary beds of his tissues, giving every limb and fiber a piece of you, a fraction of your colossal vitality.
but unlike oxygen, which leaves as carbon dioxide with every exhale, yuta does not let you go. you pervade into his organs, into his body and you stay there. he doesn't know much about biology, but he knows that you never leave him; your essence is placed delicately into his cells, fusing with the fibers of his skin and the lining of his intestines.
what yuta does know, however, is that the process—of living, of loving—never ends, so long as yuta lives. because his heart is always beating, and his blood is always circulating, and yuta thinks that it only ever happens when you are there. what is all this for, if not you?
you look away. yuta feels his heart slow, and his blood comes to a standstill.
humans can go four to six minutes without oxygen. when you look away from him, yuta's heart stops beating, and the oxygen level in his system stagnates.
five seconds go by.
"i'm not cold," you respond, avoiding his gaze. yuta chases after it, desperate to live.
"are you sure?" still, he's weak to you. yuta doesn't want to force you to admit anything, nor does he want to pressure you into responding to him, even if he already knows the answer. if you refuse to admit you're cold, yuta will help you nonetheless.
he does not need oxygen for that.
ten seconds. he's still conscious.
"yeah." you give him a shaky smile, and he feels his heart shudder, strained under the weight of his body collapsing inwards, satisfied. oxygen returns to his tissues once more and yuta lives, he lives! on and on, persisting and desperate so long as you exist, so long as you spare him an ounce, a fraction of your existence.
"okay," he says, giving in. when you look away, yuta take a deep breath. he finds a blanket nearby, wrapping it gently over his shoulders before inching towards your side. your arm brushes against his and he feels goosebumps ripple throughout his skin.
"i'm cold," yuta tells you frankly, "sorry."
"oh," you breathe out, surprised. "same." your voice then drops to a whisper, as if you're embarrassed to admit the fact that you had been so vehemently opposing for the past couple minutes. yuta doesn't judge you for this; he offers you a tender smile before opening the blanket on one side.
"come here," he replies. there's a breathless tinge to his voice, as if he's high off life and bounding across meadows when you join him under the blanket. you wonder if he's actually cold, because when your arm brushes against his, it radiates warmth, drawing you in like icarus to the sun.
but yuta doesn't burn you. so you come closer and closer, 'till your arm is fully brushed up against him and you feel his figure stiffen up slightly, his eyes trained on the screen when they were once trained on you.
and yuta is unsure of what to do, because you were star-far before. all yuta could ever do, since the first year of jujutsu high, was admire you, as if you were the sky and he were bound to earth. and he would watch and watch, reaching a hand out, desperate to catch a breeze, a stray fragment of your incomparable vitality.
but here you are: next to him, his atmosphere colliding briefly—too briefly—with yours, and suddenly everything has been worth it, and suddenly everything is beautiful. he takes a deep breath and everything is right, as if all the chaos in the world (the entropy) had rearranged into one, tangible mass. because entropy becomes enthalpy and enthalpy is the total energy within a system, and the enthalpy in yuta's great, big planet takes the form of his palpable, vibrant love.
(yuta has no idea what he's talking about; he still doesn't understand how entropy and enthalpy work.)
in the corner of his peripheral vision, yuta notices you craning your head toward the television screen, paying no mind to the way he panics, the way he is left a flustered mess.
he supposes it's always been like this: with him following you.
"you know, sometimes when my body performs homeostasis—" yuta starts, trying his best to sound factual.
"stop trying to throw random biology words around," maki interrupts with a scowl, "you are not the thinker. do you even know what a lipid is?'
yuta scratches his head. "uh, i feel like i've seen it around somewhere..."
"oh yeah, 'cause lipids are strolling through the streets of tokyo," maki replies.
"aren't lipids a type of protein?" panda interjects.
yuta opens his mouth to agree, but he quickly looks away when maki pulls out a staff, doing a 360-triple-axel-jump-serve before whooping the shit out of panda for his stupidity.
"definitely not," yuta states to panda's corpse matter-of-factly, "how could you say lipids are a protein?"
"everything is a protein!" panda retorts.
that's true, yuta thinks. again, he quickly retracts his statement once maki whoops the shit out of panda for his stupidity.
"kelp," toge says, raising one hand up to wave. you walk through the doors of the living room and yuta wonders when the walls became so vibrant, when the entire school got a paint coat that dusted it with golden light.
"hey, toge!"
"[name]," maki says, her furrowed brows easing up at the sight of your face. "tell these idiots what a lipid is."
"a fat?" you respond, almost confused. "why are we talking about lipids?"
"because someone here is letting one biology lesson from shoko get to his head." maki glares at yuta. "suddenly, he thinks he's a biology prodigy."
you laugh at this, and yuta feels something hum in his chest. flowers begin to blossom all across his ribs, and their stems weave around the bone, decorating his torso with love. and then you turn to him and you grin, your eyes crinkling with mirth as he feels his stomach churn.
"don't you have a reversed technique anyway? you don't need to be a biology master, yuta."
and oh, the way you say his name—the way you look at him and the way you perceive him. yuta wants to sink into your gaze and rest there, bathing in the color of you irises for all of eternity.
homeostasis is an essential process for all organisms. it is the concept of maintaining chemical equilibrium, of balancing one's body against the environment its in. when it's cold, people shiver as a way for the body to generate heat and warm itself up. when people become warm again, the shivering stops. that is homeostasis.
when you look at him, yuta's heart races. it's desperate to circulate his blood, because the oxygen he breathes—in your presence—melts into the liquid, traveling all across his body. he supposes it's because he's desperate to capture your existence, to make a portion of it his own.
(biology is definitely not his forte.)
when you look away, yuta's heart stops. it has no function anymore. when you look away, yuta experiences momentary clinical death, the processes of his system coming to a halt since there's no reason to keep going on, to continue breathing and living if you are not there.
"you're right," he says, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. yuta feels the judging stares from his classmates, as if they're scorning him for giving into everything you say.
but he supposes it's always been like this: with him giving into you, with him loving you.
yuta's love goes beyond physical appearances, beyond the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips. his love travels from his irises to his ribs, manifesting as flowers that wind around them, reaching his heart and rooting there.
forever.
#okkotsu yuuta#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#jjk okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x you
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it?
I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell.
One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail.
How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off.
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
#astarion#baldur's gate 3#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#bg3#astarion x tav#baldur's gate iii#astarion x you#astarion x reader#poro drabbles
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if we combine all the angst au’s over the past few anons i believe we have ultimate angst:
darling finding out she’s pregnant the day before simon and johnny break up with her ✨
because we all know darling, she’s not gonna stick around and tell them… 👀🫢
SCREAMS! This is gold. A gut punch. An ultimate angst for sure. I could kiss your brain. This could be an entire fic, honestly. 🩵
18+ Mature themes. Disco baby AU (the AUs, they’re multiplying) Reader is pregnant unintentionally.
Just tell them. The words repeat in your head all the way home, over and over. Just tell them. They’ll understand. They won’t turn you away. They won’t be mad. Just tell them.
Easier said then done, you guess. You imagined them, at home, relaxing on the couch, maybe just coming back from the gym, waiting for you walk through the door after work. How could you drop this giant bomb in everyone’s lap, and expect it not to blow up?
You still couldn’t even process it, couldn’t think about this morning, when you were in the bathroom at work, peeing on a little plastic stick, trying not to throw up.
You take a breath in the elevator, trying to steady yourself, trying to relax, desperately, but it doesn’t do much to quell your nerves. You can’t not think about how they might react, how upset they might be or… if they’ll be mad at you. Disappointed.
It's not like you didn't want kids. You've always loved them. Always thought, it might be nice, to have a child, or two. But it's not like you were the best at taking care of yourself, and the nightmares of your own mother played on repeat in your head whenever you considered it. Could you be a good mother? Could you take care of another human?
It wasn't until you met Johnny and Simon that you thought it might be possible. That you might, be able to do it. With them. The three of you, together. Raising a family.
Used to feel like a pipe dream. Now it feels really, really fucking real.
When you finally get through the door, you’re not surprised to see them on the couch. Their posture seems stiff though, like something is off, and you frown while you put your stuff away. A uneasy feeling curls around your heart, and when you step over towards them, Johnny looks distressed.
“What’s wrong?” Your fingers tighten in the cushion, and Simon motions for you to sit, and you do, nervously.
“We have some news.” Johnny says, voice thick. His hand reaches for Simon’s, and you try not to let your breath shake on the exhale. “We’re going out on an op and…” he trails off, and Simon takes over.
“It’s going to be a long mission. Months. Possibly six, to twelve.” The earth fucking tilts on it’s axis, and you can just feel the blood draining from your face. "We don't know when we'll be able to come home, at all." Nausea pitches in your stomach, and you try not to spew the bile that's collecting there to come out through your mouth while you consider his words. Six to twelve months. Gone.
You'll be alone. You'll have to do this, this pregnancy, alone. Without them.
Maybe if you tell them, something will change. Maybe they can stay.
An overwhelming feeling of despair creeps over you, urges you to just spit the words out, tell them your news and let it be done, let the chips fall and see what happens. Surely, the three of you can figure this out. Surely, you all can find a way forward, together.
"We've transferred the ownership of the flat to your name," What? You don't even realize you'd been looking at the floor until your head snaps up, and you see Johnny trying to hide his face for a moment. "And we've decided, that what's best for you, and us, all of us, is that we... take a break, from this relationship, during this op."
No, no no.
It's funny, how the words don't register right away. How they seem to hang in the air, flailing, like they're looking for a place to land. You stare at Simon, and then Johnny, eyes flicking back between the two until it finally hits you, what he said. What he's saying. What he means.
You're going to be sick.
"I-" Your stomach heaves, and you cover your mouth with the back of you hand before swallowing it. Simon looks pained, like he's actually experiencing physical pain, while Johnny just stares at you, red rimmed eyes and all. "I don't understand? What... why?"
Please. Don't do this. Please don't leave me. You promised. You can't. You can't leave me.
You want to scream at them. Hit them. Beg them. Barter.
You'll be better. You'll be stronger. You'll be good. You promise.
Don't leave me.
"It will be healthier for everyone. We... we think it's for the best." Johnny croaks, and hot tears roll over your cheeks, splashing onto the couch. "When we get back, whenever it is, maybe we can have lunch, and catch up. See how we're all doing, and-"
"Have lunch?" the words are incredulous, shocked. You're surprised they come out so clear. "Have... lunch..." Have lunch? Lunch? You'll probably have- oh god. You could have a baby by then.
Their baby.
You stand. You don't know why, except for you need to put immediate space between you and them, and your legs shake while you step away from the couch. You wipe your face hastily, holding your breath to keep yourself from bursting into tears, or worse, falling onto your knees and begging them not to leave you.
"Darling-"
"Don't call me that." you snap, and Simon swallows. "Don't, please." He nods.
"We've arranged a place to stay, for the next two nights, until we leave. We didn't want to stay in your space after..."
"After you dumped me." you finish for him, and he shifts uncomfortably. "Are you already packed, then?" Your voice is higher, pitch like nails on a chalkboard, nearly hysterical. When they both nod, you bark out a sharp laugh, and the palm of your hand presses to your stomach, where a clump of cells sits inside of you. "Well, don't let me hold you up." You step aside, moving halfway into the kitchen and pointing at the door. "Get out." They both hesitate.
"Darling, we still care about you, we still lo-"
"Don't... say that." you cut him off. "I don't need your pity, or whatever this is. I just... need you to leave."
"We don't want to go until we're sure-"
"GET OUT!" you shout, scream as loud as you can. Loud enough the people on the floor above you probably heard. They exchange an uncomfortable glance. "Get. The. Fuck. Out." You point at the door. "Or I'm calling the police." You won't, but they don't know that, at least they don't know it now, and Johnny raises his hands in surrender.
"Okay... okay. We'll go. But, we want to make sure you're okay, we-"
"Leave!" you hiss, and turn your back. You can't even look at them.
Please don't leave me. You promised.
As soon as the door shuts, you fall to the floor, crumpling into a ball while you lose your composure, tears tracking down your cheeks as you scream against the carpet. You scream like your heart is being torn from your chest, scream like your body is being ripped in two. The gaping hole where your love, your life used to be sits rotting, and black. Eviscerated.
Alone. You were alone. You were going to have to do this, make this choice, alone. You were always going to be alone.
#peaches asks#tw pregnancy#ghoap x reader#disco baby au#ghost x soap x reader#soap x ghost x reader#fem reader
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Hi! I'm literally obsessed with Zukka and every time I see your art, I die and resurrect about seven times, cause it's SO GOOD!! 😭
I wanted to ask, what are your most 'unconventional' or odd Zukka headcanons? If you have any 😅
If not, maybe just your favorite ones? Or some original ones? 👀
shuhudhideaiun you’re so sweet thank you and of COURSE I do but like. I also would like to list my favourites and originals bc some of them are so so adorable n fun.
Unconventional
-sokka fidgets. like a lot. but the way he does is by biting his nails so zuko bought him beads and necklaces and just jewellery in general so he could play with that instead of destroying his fingers.
-zuko has like no spacial awareness at all (he’s literally blind in one eye) so sokka always has a hand on his back or arm to make sure he doesn’t crash into anything 😭
-zuko has trouble staying on top of his work and is constantly complaining about needing a clearer schedule so sokka just, invents highlighters and comes to zuko one day like: here you go babe now you can colour code your schedule 😊 and zuko’s like: what the fuck
Favourite
-one by my wonderful friend @motheryves: sokka can sing but pretends to sing badly in front of his friends to annoy them
-another one by my friend @kiki-strike: a long post which you can find if you scroll through my ask tag about zuko’s relationship with his scar and how sokka finds a way to be tender and gentle with him (like, touching it) without freaking him out. (seriously this is such a tender sweet head canon and I still think about it to this day.
-not sure where it came from but the hc that sokka and zuko can’t take showers together because one setting is in the pits of hades and the other is the literal icy tundras.
Original, but less odd
-sokka is a sleep wrestler and at first zuko thinks it’s because he’s just. like that. but after sokka starts talking in his sleep about ‘I need to save them.’ ‘I’m strong enough.’ then zuko’s like: oh. oh his failure complex is on even in his sleep. so next time it happens he wordlessly just pulls sokka close and strokes his hair until he’s still. (it takes Sokka a few weeks to figure out why he’s suddenly sleeping so well.)
-the first time sokka says I love you is when they’re lounging in zuko’s chambers and it’s late there’s dim candlelight and zuko is laughing at something stupid sokka said. so sokka tries to say I love you but gets whacked in the face with a bottle (zuko flails) so when he gets to the sick bay and zuko is tending to his bruise saying shit like ‘I’m so dumb I’m so sorry’ sokka just, blurts it out. (a true display of zuko being authentic zuko, not hiding behind a cold unfeeling mask, but always looking out for others and caring for them. that’s the zuko who sokka loves, so he told him then.)
-the first time zuko says I love you is when sokka is painting, and he comes over to bring him tea and sokka gets startled and just, spills his tea all over himself and his painting and he stands up too quickly to get a towel so he slips on the spilled tea on the floor and now he’s ass first on the ground just laughing, wide and unapologetic and that’s when zuko says it. (a true display of sokka being authentic sokka, not trying to prove his worth or be more of a man or be anything other than himself. that’s the sokka that zuko loves, so he told him then.)
#atla#zukka#zuko x sokka#asks#my asks#headcanons#zukka headcanons#wipes brow whew#that was a lot#but this was fun thank you for the ask :))
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Easy (Gavi)
Summary: You and Gavi have an argument, but he’s not willing to let you go.
Warning(s): none
A/N: Please send in any requests if you have any. Short blurb for today while I try to figure out what to write about.
Word Count: [854]
Lyric series: four
You tell me that I overthink till I ruin a good thing. Anything else?
You tell me that you'd rather fight than spend a single peaceful night, with somebody else.
It was a Tuesday night and you found yourself staring at Gavi from across the island table, stuck in another fight.
It seemed like for the last two weeks all the two of you did was fight.
There were a lot of things weighing on your relationship, one of them being the fact that you were moving back to the United States, your home country, in just a week, completing your year abroad.
The idea of doing long distance, as well as the time difference, weighed heavy on both your minds. Not only were you going to be busy with school when you went back home, but Gavi would also be playing the final games in La Liga which meant a lot of traveling around Europe.
Today was the first time the two of you had seen each other in a week, and he was leaving again in two days, but you had been busy all day saying goodbye to all your study abroad friends, so you couldn’t come over to his house till late at night.
That led you to now, as the two of you argued back and forth in his kitchen, hands flailing and voices raised.
“What the hell Y/n, this is the first time we can see each other all week and you spend the entire day with your friends?”
You sighed, “Gavi I already told you, today was the only day they could do it, and I really wanted to see them.”
“What about me?” Gavi asked.
You rolled your eyes, “Well, I’m here now aren’t I?”
Gavi took in your expression, annoyance plastered across his face, “Do you even want to be here?”
You felt yourself getting agitated as he looked at you, waiting for your response. You didn’t know why you couldn’t explain to him that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, it seemed like over the last few weeks there had been a divide between you and him, and you couldn’t do anything but watch you both slip away from each other.
Your silence was enough of an answer for Gavi.
“Are you serious Y/n? You’re going to be gone in a week, and you don’t even want to spend time together?”
You bit your lip, forcing yourself to speak, “Of course I do. But we’ll see each other over winter break.”
“Winter break?!? It’s August, that’s in 5 months. We’re not going to see each other for 5 months, and that’s okay for you?” He questioned, his face falling.
You instantly felt bad seeing his hurt expression, you hadn’t meant it in a bad way, just in a way of reminding both you and him that this was not the end, but the more you thought about it, the more it really felt like it was.
The feeling of losing someone who meant so much to you in such a short period of time was overwhelming you, and you did the only thing you could think of to ease the pain.
“What are we even doing? Is this even worth it?” You spoke, looking at Gavi with glassy eyes.
His expression mirrored your own, and you could practically see all the anger leave at your words, his body deflating, “Look, I know long distance will be hard, but it’s worth it to me. You’re worth it to me.”
You felt yourself exhale at his words, “How can you be sure this will even work out? All we do is fight.”
He came over to you slowly, gently grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his, “Because I know what it’s like to love you and be loved by you, and I would rather fight than lose that and be happy with someone else.”
You felt your body fill with warmth at his words, and you knew the second he spoke that you could never break up with him because you felt the same exact way he did.
You pulled him into a hug, cursing yourself for always trying to run away when things got difficult.
You spoke into his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your ear, “I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re worth it, I’m just scared.”
He grabbed your chin, looking down at you with a soft smile, “I know, I am too. But I think we can do it. Besides, we’ll have winter break right?” He spoke, teasing you.
You swatted his chest playfully before snuggling into his embrace, “Haha. So funny.”
You could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke, “No but seriously, let’s just make the most of the time we have left.”
You nodded against him, “Deal.”
“Also sorry for getting mad about today, I just wanted to see you.”
You slightly pulled away from him, grinning, “Awh Pablito, you missed me that much? Just wait till I record this and share it, no one will believe you’ve gone soft.”
He mocked your grin before his lips fell into a thin line at your antics, “Don’t you even dare Y/n or we’ll have to make it spring break.”
Your eyebrows rose in surprise, “Touche.”
#pablogavi#pablo gavi#gavi#gavi imagine#gavi headcannon#gavi blurb#gavi one shot#gavi imagines#pablo gavi imagine#gavi fluff#gavi angst#footballer imagine#fc barcelona#pedri#pedri imagine#Pedro Gonzalez#barca#football imagine
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*explodes into your request box*
HEY HEY HEY, im back.
Came to ask an platonic Child!reader with the rest of the gang.
BUT HEAR ME OUT
Child reader is like an wolf in sheep's clothing, like reader has an cute expression on their face but when someone tries to touch them, they'll go like: "touch me and ill rip your hand off" in a full innocent voice and that cute smile.
And child reader has shark teeth.
Tyy!
*explodes*
- 🦭
The cast x child!reader (platonic)
throwing this together after waking up from a really nice nap! i still have the kinger request to work on but my brains still stumped.. sobs..
requests are still open by the way! you can find the link to my rules in my previous post, or you can look in my pinned! :O
apologies if some sections for the characters are a little short, my brains still a lil okfvokffvovf from waking up TToTT
CAINE:
a child? in the circus?
he doesnt quite know how to make of it, i mean... its not like he has to make any accommodations, the circus is a place for all ages afterall!
i give you this new concept: dad caine
lightly scolds you when you threaten someone, bad manners!
i think he would be like a stereotypical eccentric dad
in house adventures seem to tone down just a touch so theyre not too intense or dangerous for you, keeps an eye on you to make sure you dont get stuck anywhere or flung across the room
rip bubble, you probably pop them when theyre within a foot of you
pinches your cheek only to have his hand comically chomped off ("now now (reader)! what did i tell you about biting! time out!)
POMNI:
similar confusion that caine has, but like, more so
how did a kid even get their hands on one of the headsets??
honestly i think pomni might be the type to be uncomfortable around kids; she doesnt hate them she just doesnt know what to do with them
also kids can possess a different kind of cruelness when they really put their minds to it and shes already in a mentally precarious position as it is
she doesnt avoid you though!
was bitten a grand total of one times, she made the mistake of trying to take you somewhere during an IHA and she didnt make you aware that she was going to put her hand on your shoulder
JAX:
okay you cant swear in the circus, but i feel like jax has some very creative ways to work around that, making these new colorful euphemisms that dont skip out on the crudeness. he teaches you some of his favorites just to watch the world burn
lightning fast reflexes, should you try to bite or hit him; not that hes going to try to put his hands on you
actually
i can see him picking you up via scooping his hands under your arms, or literally just holding you up by the scruff of your next
congrats theres now the image of jax holding a flailing sheep child in our heads. his shins will be kicked in the second you get put down
thinks its funny when people have to do double takes when you let out a threat or say something dark
RAGATHA:
i think she would be a cool babysitter, or big sister figure to you
similar to caine she will lightly scold you when you're being 'rude'
doesnt try to figure out why you dont like being touched, also respects it. respects your space as well, she doesnt totally baby you
she is a little sad that a kid so young got stuck in the digital world, though
even if you could remember things, i dont think she would ask out of fear of possibly upsetting you
likes making you little things (small pillows, plushes, ect) since i can see her being into sewing.. might be because shes a doll, though
KINGER:
i said it once and ill say it again, kinger is dad. like i already hc he had kids before getting stuck in the digital world, but i also like to hc that he and gangle have a dad/kid relationship, at least when kinger was less... paranoid
like he still has the capacity to be a father figure to you, but i think with you being a little... ermrmfl.. he might be a little put off
tells you stories about "being a king" (ie embellishing the one time he was put in charge during an IHA ages ago) and tells you about some previous in house adventures
youre so short he genuinely doesnt see you approaching sometimes so he either gets jumpscared by you or literally trips over you on accident
is so so apologetic once he gets over the initial shock of suddenly meeting the floor
really if you follow this guy around and show interest in his interests hes gonna adopt you
he knows your threats arent empty, even if they arent hes not going to try to find out
ZOOBLE:
zooble seems like the type of person to find some vague amusement in kids swearing or saying out of pocket stuff, i cant explain why
cant teach you swear words thanks to the censoring of the digital world but hey... they can still spell it out...
honestly i hc that zooble themselves doesnt like being touched so hey you dont have to worry about that, they personally get it
cool older sibling energy. while ragatha gives off sweet n caring older sister, zooble gives off the energy of a cool older sibling who like. idfk skateboards or something
zooble skateboarding real
not much else to say here
GANGLE:
similar to pomnis but this is more so because gangle is intimidated by other people thanks to her shyness!
i think gangle would be in the same boat as you and zooble, in terms of touching, but in gangles case its because shes made of ribbon and thus can be pushed around very easily
would cry on the off chance you snap at her :(
she lets you into her room sometimes to let you draw with her! kids like drawing right?
thats her reasoning, at least
i mean hey, it gives you something to do and gives you a break from all the chaos
actually pretty okay when her comedy mask isnt broken, actually makes an attempt to properly get to know you and crack a few jokes
#tadc x reader#the amazing digital circus x reader#digital circus x reader#caine x reader#pomni x reader#jax x reader#ragatha x reader#kinger x reader#zooble x reader#gangle x reader#caine x you#pomni x you#jax x you#ragatha x you#kinger x you#zooble x you#gangle x you
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I wonder how would lucky story go if she met the strawhats crew when there were younger instead meeting them when there 17? Instant big sis or instant mother figure🤔
Honestly, Lucky already is going to have a big sister-esque relationship with most of the straw hats, so I went with her being a mother figure. No yandere stuff here because they're all kids.
Careful What You Wish For
Child Straw Hats x Reader
2.2k words
“Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!”
Thankfully, the stars aligned, and against all odds, your mother actually answered, “(Y/N)? You never call, what’s going on?”
“Oh thank God, I need help!” You were practically weeping from relief.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Oh I knew this would happen with all that exploring you do!” Your mother flipped from concerned to scolding in record time.
“No, it’s not that! I don’t know how,” you take a deep breath, “but I just became a single mother of seven and I don’t know what to do.” You elect to keep the information that one of these kids is, in fact, an anthropomorphic deer to yourself. You gotta ease her into this.
The line is silent for a minute before your mother speaks up again, but not without an exasperated sigh, “This isn’t funny (y/n), I thought something was actually wrong. Don’t offer to babysit that many children if you can’t handle it.”
“No! You don’t understand! I didn’t-” you’re cut off by the sound of the line going dead. This bitch. You don’t know if you want to scream or cry. Maybe both. Of course she didn’t help, you honestly don’t know what you expected.
Loud sniffling from above your head called for your attention. Chopper, the previously aforementioned deer, has been perched on your shoulders and clinging onto your head for dear life practically since he got here because Luffy bit him. You blindly reach up to pat his head, internally grateful for the fact that he’s stopped crying.
The patter of tiny feet coming right for you catches your attention and you look to the side to see Luffy charging at you with Usopp trailing behind him. Oh boy. This kid was a lot, but he also did really weird shit. His limbs stretched like he was made of rubber, something that nearly gave you a heart attack when he first revealed this.
His eyes locked onto your cell phone, “What’s that, let me see!” Without even giving you a chance to respond, his arm does the stretchy thing and snatches it out of your hand. He turns it over in his hands, visibly perplexed by it. “What’s this supposed to be?”
You try to get it back, but kids become masters of evasion when they have something they aren’t supposed to have, “Give that back Luffy, you’re going to break it!”
“Nuh-uh! I’ll be careful with it!” He disagrees as he immediately drops it. Luckily for you, Usopp catches it before it can hit the floor.
“I know what this is! It’s… um… it’s,” Usopp examined the phone closely with the same level of confusion that Luffy had despite his previous claims that he knows what it is.
Fortunately, he was too focused on your phone to see your hand coming and you were able to grab it out of his hands. You hastily stuff it into your back pocket, “It’s just a phone, don’t worry about it.” You walk away from them, wanting to locate the rest of the kids that have since dispersed.
Luffy followed behind you like a duckling, reaching up to tug on Chopper, “Hey, come down and play with us!”
Chopper only clung onto your head tighter, “No! You’re gonna bite me again!” You winced at the feeling of hooves digging into your head.
“I won’t do it again! Don’t be such a scaredy cat! Er- Scaredy deer!”
“I’m a reindeer!” Chopper snapped indignantly. You mentally made a note that he’s a reindeer, not a deer.
Luffy was not deterred by the protests and decided to take it a step further by slingshotting himself up your back. You yelped at the sudden action, completely being thrown off balance. Luffy only giggled at your distress.
Between Chopper flailing from Luffy invading his personal space, Luffy treating you like a human jungle gym, and Usopp latching onto one of your legs (presumably not wanting to be left out of the chaos), it’s hardly surprising when you topple over.
Chopper was dislodged immediately, tumbling away from you with a scream. You groan from the impact and force yourself to take a deep breath so you don’t explode at a bunch of young children. It doesn’t help that much. You look over your shoulder to glare at the two kids still attached to you, but whatever scolding you had in mind died on your tongue upon seeing Luffy’s smiling face. Dammit. He has no idea how lucky he is that he’s adorable.
You pushed yourself up, shaking Usopp off your leg and reaching behind you to pluck Luffy off your back. He giggles at being held upside down in front of you, not a care in the world for what his mischief caused. You try your best to at least look stern, “It’s not very nice to knock people over, you know.”
“I didn’t think you would fall over just from that! You’re kinda clumsy,” he has the audacity to laugh in your face.
“You little-” your eye twitches, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not a good idea to swear in front of children. You dropped him into your lap, which only made him laugh more and squirm around to get upright. The second he is, he latches onto you again.
“You should come play with us, too!” His smile almost breaks you, but you have other things you need to do. Despite your mother’s assumptions, this isn’t some babysitting job. This is some bizarre case of seven children spawning into your living room with no warning or explanation.
“Maybe later. I need to go check on everyone else, okay?” It takes a bit of effort to pry him off this time, his rubbery arms being surprisingly strong. He’s pouting when you do manage to pull him off, but quickly shifts his focus onto Chopper who is hiding behind a chair. Well, hiding is a strong word for what he was doing. Only like half of an antler was actually obscured from view.
The reindeer took off like the devil was chasing him, Luffy not far behind. You decide to let them work this out. Luffy probably won’t bite him again, maybe they’ll be able to settle their differences. You massaged your temples in a half hearted attempt to ward off your oncoming headache.
“Are you okay?” Robin put the book she was reading down enough to peer at you over it. She was the oldest one, looking to be either a preteen or very young teenager. The girl was very quiet, choosing to keep to herself and curl up on your couch with one of your books.
“I’ll be alright,” you say unconvincingly. In reality, you feel like you’re about to have a panic attack, but you’ll keep that to yourself for now. There’s no need to dump all of that on her.
She regarded you with a high degree of uncertainty, clearly not buying it, but shrugged it off. Her eyes flitted back to the book, “Okay, but you might want to go check on Nami.”
“Why?” Panic spikes in your heart, wondering why she was saying this.
“She ran off with your purse a while ago,” Robin offers nonchalantly, nodding her head in the direction of your bedroom.
“Oh come on!” You sprint towards the room, kicking yourself for not taking note of the suspiciously closed door sooner. Upon throwing open the door, you find the culprit kneeling on the ground next to the dumped out contents of your purse. She looked surprised to be caught, but distinctly not ashamed. “Get out of there! You shouldn’t go through other people’s belongings!”
Nami doesn’t even flinch, only smiling cheekily at your attempt to scold her, “Your money looks weird, and you don’t even have that much of it.” As she’s saying this, she pulls out the sorry contents of your wallet. Some crumpled up singles you got as tips at work along with some loose change.
“Hey! I don’t need that from you!” The last thing anyone needs is a small child calling them broke. You lunge for the wallet. While you do manage to grab it, it doesn’t mean much. Not when she’s already got tiny fistfulls of crumpled bills and coins.
Nami bolts, but not before taking a second to stick her tongue out at you. You run a hand through your hair and hazard a glance down at the wallet. Completely empty. You just got robbed by what looks like a six year old. That’s a new low for you. You heave out a sigh and decide to let it go for the time being, you’re pretty sure all she really made off with was maybe $4.27.
This still leaves two kids unaccounted for, and you are almost afraid to find out what they’ve gotten up to since you’ve become distracted. Steeling yourself, you exit the room and begin your search.
Robin is still reading on the couch, but now Chopper is curled up next to her, looking frazzled. Usopp is messing with the remote to your tv, and Nami is hiding (poorly) under your table while counting her (your) money. Luffy is nowhere to be seen, but you can hear him so you at least know he hasn’t run away.
On top of that, you can also hear bickering coming from your kitchen. Hurrying over there, you find the last two kids arguing with each other. Over knives. These kids are going to put you in an early grave, you’re sure of it.
“No! You can’t have them, I just finished sharpening those!” Sanji kicked Zoro’s shins, trying to wrestle three knives away from him. One of which was in his mouth while the other two were in his hands.
“I need them for practice, you can have them back later!” Zoro speaks shockingly clearly despite having a paring knife clenched between his teeth.
“Drop it!” You screeched, startling both of them. Zoro didn’t even get a chance to put the knives down before you swiped them away. He started to protest but shut his mouth after you glared at him, “I don’t want to hear it! No knives! Go play with sticks like every other kid!” Zoro crossed his arms and huffed, but ultimately settled for stomping out of the kitchen.
Sanji, on the other hand, was proudly beaming at you, “I wanted to cut up some fruit for you, Nami, and Robin, but all of your knives were dull so I sharpened them for you!”
The kid looked so proud of himself that you couldn’t find it in you to be as upset about him handling knives as you probably should be. “That was very nice of you, but you shouldn’t be handling knives at your age. Please just ask me to do it if they get dull again,” you do your best to keep your tone kind but firm.
Sanji cocks his head at this, “No I’m not, I work in a kitchen and do this all the time! Old man Zeff taught me how.”
What in the child labor? You shake your head, you’ll question that more later, “Well you’re not working right now, you’re in my home and I say no using the knives.”
Sanji pouts, looking like a kicked puppy. He grabbed onto your legs and looked up at you pleadingly, “But I know what I’m doing! Please! It’s not just a job to me, I love cooking!”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t cook, just no using knives,” you tried to assuage him, but he’s still looking at you like you just robbed him of his passion. “Okay, how about I let you, but only under supervision?”
The compromise causes him to perk right up and nod his head enthusiastically. He looks like he wants to say more, but is interrupted by someone else coming into the kitchen. You don’t even need to turn around, recognizing the sound of sandals slapping across the floor.
“I’m hungry! Do you have any food?” Luffy was staring up at you pleadingly, as if he would wither away any second.
Oh yeah. Having a bunch of kids around does mean that you have to feed them. You internally cringe, you barely have enough food for yourself most weeks. Still, you can’t just let them go hungry, it’s not their fault they’re here. You did just do your weekly grocery shopping trip yesterday, so you do have enough to feed them right now. It definitely wouldn’t last you all the rest of the week, though. You’ll have to figure something out.
“Sure! Give me a few minutes and I’ll get lunch ready,” you force a smile on your face despite your worries. Sanji looks up at you expectantly, “Yes, you can help.”
He grins and hops up onto a stepping stool so he can get to work on slicing the apples he set out. While he does that, you rummage through your fridge, grabbing what you need to make sandwiches. You honestly don’t know what you’re going to do food-wise after today, but you’ll worry about that later.
This is certainly an interesting change of pace for you.
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#lucky break#monkey d luffy#zoro roronoa#nico robin#sanji#black leg sanji#nami#cat burglar nami#usopp#tony tony chopper
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Listen…I’m not normally into sub males but the way you wrote sub neteyam was so hot omfg I can’t wait for more but the dynamic between the two?? AHHHHHH I can’t wait I will be tuning in…like we need more alpha women and omega men irl 🫣
FOR ONE IM SO SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT.
I was a little worried that the fandom wouldn’t be down because we all love Dominant Neteyam, which like. Me too. Forsure-
But there’s something about Subby!Neteyam that just does it for me.
Subby Neteyam who feels comfortable enough with you to whine for what he wants. He’s always been the oldest. Has taken on all of that weight and responsibility.
You don’t even know if he even knew how to ask for what he wanted before the two of you started your relationship.
He doesn’t like to complain. Will bite the bullet and keep it moving(hell, one time he walked around with a fractured collarbone for a week before his Grandma sat him down with flailing arms. Stupid boy! Doesn’t it hurt!?)
But with you?
Oh he’s such a sweetheart.
He feels comforted and safe. He knows you’ll always take care of him- and better yet. That you enjoy it.
You get off on babying him.
You tell him he deserves it, and after a while- he starts to believe it himself.
*Subby Neteyam who lets you rebraid his hair. Sitting between your tighs with his back to your chest. Shivering as you run your nails over his tender scalp. Melting back into you and essentially falling asleep in your lap as you work on his hair.
*Subby Neteyam who gets a little shy when you love on him in public. He’s okay with minor PDA(hand holding, hugs) but you will walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle. You don’t care who’s around, you just wanna be skin to skin at all times. You’ll tone it down if he really wants you to. He never really wants you to.
*Subby Neteyam who craves comfort. He doesn’t like to hurt alone. After a long day, or when something traumatic happens. He not only wants to be held, but wants to hold you too. He wants to be as close as possible
*Subby Neteyam who’s love language is Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation- yet all he’s ever known how to do or receive is Acts of Service.
You promise him that he’ll never have to stretch himself thin to try to appease you.
*Subby Neteyam who felt weird asking for what he wanted in the beginning- but will now beg you. For your attention. For your kisses. For your knot. He’s a brat- he knows you love it when he begs.
*Subby Neteyam who refuses to be a pillow princess. Yeah, you can be in charge. But he can’t sit still. If your giving him head, or eating him out he’s fucking your face. If your riding him, his hips are snapping to meet yours. He chases both of your pleasure needily.
*Subby Neteyam who wakes you up with his head between your legs. He’s lapping at your puffy clit and fingering you- groaning as he feels your knot deep inside start to tighten around his digits.
Only once your awake does he grin, mouth all wet, and mount you. Pushing into you with little mewls. He wanted it so bad.
*Subby Neteyam who needs to scent you. Every morning. He needs everyone to remember that you’re his.
*Subby Neteyam who finally learns how to lay healthy boundaries with his family after being with you. You encourage them and support him in anyway he needs. You don’t push him. You just let him figure out what he is truly comfortable with
You bite your tongue even though you want to CHEW jakes head off whenever he plays that”your the older brother” guilt trip bullshit on your mate.
I could literally go in and on. I love Omega Nete he has my WHOLE HEART💘
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Cherry Magic Episode 10
They tried it again this week with adding another restriction on this show, but we shall persevere! The rest of the episodes are apparently going to be behind a paywall on Viu on air date, and then become free access the following day. The upside to paying the small premium membership fee is we can finally see Tay Tawan in 1080p as god intended (and pro tip: there do not seem to be any screen limits, buy one account and split it amongst friends).
With all that figured out, we got to another excellent episode of this show! Big, big relationship growth for Achi and Karan this week, as they learned that hiding their real feelings and desires from each other doesn't help them (and gave us an A+ forehead kiss parallel). I loved the nuance of it all, too—Karan was lying about sitting outside Achi's house every night and trying to hide how sad he was about Achi missing Loy Krathong, but he also genuinely had no anger toward Achi about it and was just trying to make things easier for him. And Achi was telling Karan he wanted the practice time apart (honestly, horrible idea boys, your time together is precious) while secretly hoping Karan would come see him anyway. In relationships, you can't claim to want one thing while secretly hoping for another and expect that to pan out for you.
And I love that Achi did realize that, and that he does trust Karan even despite these little white lies, and that this time, he had to step up and be the one to make the grand gesture to make sure Karan knows he loves him and will miss him. Roping in the office gang to help pull off the surprise was a fun turn of events, and I love that his confidence has grown enough that he can ask for that help without being embarrassed. They're going to be fine through this separation, and when they are back together I look forward to the show addressing the elephant in the room, because when they were walking together on their date I couldn't help but notice that they would have been holding hands were it not for the barrier Achi's powers present. They need to be able to have intimacy while maintaining privacy and mental space, and we know what needs to happen to get there!
I also loved the Jinta/Min story this episode, and that we got to see Jinta do a much less dignified version of Karan's pining. The plot about fans shipping Min with his dance partner was new and felt like exactly the kind of thing that would come up in his career, and that Jinta would flail over. I like that Min saw exactly what was going on and called him on it. The irony of Jinta being the one who can read minds but Min being the one who actually understands everything happening between them is delicious. And Jinta showed up for him in a big way after his loss by not only affirming how he sees Min, but showing Min that he still has fans who feel the same way. Excellent boyfriend behavior from our friend Jinta.
As for Rock and Pai, it looks like we'll be getting our final answer there next week, but given that Pai continues to be uninterested in romance and focused on her work and her hobbies, I don’t think it will go the way Rock hopes. He is barking up the wrong tree (his instincts for romance are clearly NOT strong, given he had no idea Achi and Karan were a couple), and I am hopeful that Pai will tell him so next week.
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So Kris, I’ve been thinking about Cole and his relationship with Steve. He seems a bit…out of the whole vampire loop. Would you want to give us some insight into how Cole fits into Steve’s crew? And why Steve treats him the way he does?
Chelsea! Ok, here's a little drabble* that I hope, at least somewhat, answers some of these questions. Thank you for indulging all of the little avenues of world-building I constantly want to go down. 💜
*And by "little" and "drabble" I mean just over 1k.
There's no pairing or reader-insert character here, just Cole and Steve having a chat. With dinner crying in the background. This takes place about a decade before Everybody Wants to Rule the World.
This is My Four Leaf Clover
Warnings: violence, gore, death, a lot of blood. Vampire stuff, basically. Also, talk of being unhoused.
Cole sat in the small bedroom, unsure what he was doing there. It was nice, well-appointed, luxurious, but a little bland. Probably a guest room. He didn’t belong there. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed or gotten new clothes. Everything was ratty, every part of him was dirty. He didn’t know why he’d been brought here.
The door opened. The man who’d found him in the alley and brought him here, Steve, came in, dragging a young woman behind him. She was kicking out, flailing really, and sobbing. But she was so pretty. He noticed that right away.
Steve shoved her into the corner and then looked her in the eye. “Stay,” he said firmly and she stopped moving, but her whimpers and cries continued. Cole’s fangs dropped, he couldn’t help it. Steve then took a seat next to Cole. “I brought you something to eat,” he said gently, gesturing to the girl. “Actual food.” Cole blushed. Steve had found him trying to take down a raccoon to have for dinner. It hadn’t been going well. “But first,” Steve said, “I need you to answer some questions. You know what you are?”
Cole ran his tongue over one of his fangs and nodded. “I’m a vampire, right?”
Him asking for confirmation seemed to take Steve aback a bit, but he nodded. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re a vampire. We both are. Who turned you? They didn’t explain it to you?”
“Uh, it was a woman? Her name was Sadie, I think. I met her at a bar one night and took her home, then I must have passed out. When I came to, she was gone. There was–” he closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. “there was a lot of blood. And I felt… different. But I never saw her again.”
Steve scowled and turned his head, muttering, “Of all the irresponsible–” He sighed and turned back to Cole. “How long ago was this?”
“Uh,” Cole hemmed. “I’m not sure exactly. Time is– It’s been hard to keep track of time. But years, I think. Some years.”
“And you’ve been on your own this whole time?”
“Yeah,” Cole nodded.
Steve looked pointedly at his ratty clothes. “Ok. And where are you living right now?”
“Um,” Cole ducked his head and ran his hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You saw it. Earlier.”
Steve looked pained at that. “Honey, why didn’t you find a place to stay?”
“I was living on my parents' farm when I was turned and when I woke up, I just– I could hear the blood flowing in their veins. I had to leave. But I didn’t really have anywhere to go, so. I don’t know. I ran out of money a while ago. And I figured out real quick that daytime is no good, so that eliminated most jobs. I take nighttime work when I can, but,” the girl in the corner caught his attention again, and he gulped, “being around people is hard.”
Steve looked confused. “Honey, we don’t work. We don’t need money. You sweet thing. Alright,” Steve moved on, “why the raccoon?”
Cole closed his eyes again. “Uh, I’m not very good at– at stopping. And then I didn’t know what to do with the bodies? It drew a lot of attention. So small animals seemed easier. But it’s hard to get enough.”
Steve sighed. “I can imagine. You’re gaunt, honey. Ashen. I bet you’re weak, too. You’re just a babe in the woods, aren’t you? You aren’t cut out for this at all.” He brushed a finger over Cole’s cheek and Cole couldn’t help the shiver that moved through his body. “Well, we can deal with the hunger right now.” He turned to the girl in the corner. “Come here,” he said, and shockingly, she did. She stood where Steve directed her, but the moment Cole touched her, she started fighting again. And in his weakened state, he couldn’t overpower her. “Make her calm down,” Steve directed.
Cole looked at him, confused, as he continued to try to fight her into submission. “What? How?”
Steve stared at him dumbfounded for a moment then recovered and chuckled to himself. “This explains so much,” he said. “Honey, we can make people do whatever we want. Give us whatever we want. We don’t need money. We have power. We take.” He grabbed the girl easily and made her look him in the eye. “Calm down,” he said. “Be still,” and now that Cole was paying attention, he could tell that this was different. More. She immediately stilled for Steve, who passed her over to Cole. “Now,” Steve said to him, “go ahead, take your time.”
Cole took a moment to just hold her in his arms. She was so soft. So pretty. He tried to look her in the eyes, make a connection, but her gaze was glassy like she couldn’t actually see him. He tried to swallow down his disappointment as he moved his nose over her neck. She smelled so good. So feminine. Maybe, if he asked, Steve would help him keep her. He’d be so good to her. He would. But right now, he was so hungry. He sank his fangs into her neck and drank, sucking on her throat, relishing the blood as it rushed into his mouth. He swallowed, over and over, as he held her as close as he could. Distantly, he could hear someone calling to him to slow down, to stop, but none of it registered. She was so good, so delicious, everything he needed.
When he was finally sated, he pulled away, her body dropping limply to the floor. He looked at her and was horrified to see that a chunk of her throat was missing. He looked down. He was covered in her blood. He looked up at where Steve was now standing, preparing himself for rage, or disappointment, or something, but the man was placid. Steve just sighed. “That’s ok, honey. It’s alright. We’ll work on it.”
#ask kris#we're all monsters#everybody wants to rule the world#cole turner#steve rogers#captain america#ghosted#vampire au#vampire steve#paperweight91#asks are always welcome#drabble
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💖 create a sim(p)! — 18: friends?
synopsis — after stupidly claiming on stream that you’ve been dating popular youtuber choi beomgyu in secret after accidentally creating an identically looking sim, you beg him not to reveal your lie to the public when it goes viral. weirdly, he agrees and you two begin to fool the public. can your lie become the truth or will it eventually catch up with you?
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a/n — back with another written chapter! but this time it’s gyu’s pov! (wc: ~1k) as for warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, mentions of pineapple pizza(😭) and beomgyu having an internal crisis throughout the whole thing!
“What’s up?” Beomgyu greeted, walking smoothly into your room.
“Sit. We have much to discuss.” You ordered.
He plopped himself down in the bean bag chair.
“First order of business, my mandatory freak out.”
Beomgyu looked at you confused. His expression only amplified into one of abject horror when you, without further explanation, started screaming incoherently into your pillows. Your arms flailing wildly, you let out all your grievances and curses while Beomgyu watched on in silence, unsure whether to flee or comfort.
After you tired yourself out, you lifted your head, your neutral expression returned to your face. Beomgyu was relieved you were done screaming, given he had just become super concerned about you. Friends worry about friends right? He thought, thinking back to his conversation with Keeho and the others. Yeah, but you can also worry about someone you’re interested in. What the hell- now is NOT the time to be worried about that.
“Are you okay?” He asked quickly, desperate to clear his thoughts from his mind. “That was… unexpected.”
“I told you beforehand I was going to have a mandatory freak out. Be grateful I had the sense to not scream without the muffler.” You barked, absolutely no bite attached. Beomgyu shrugged, deciding to let you have that.
Wait, am I just doing that because I like-
“Second order of business!” You clapped your hands, snapping Beomgyu out of his mind. “We need to figure out how to address the thread.”
“Would it be crazy for me to say…” Beomgyu started, unsure how his next words would go, “I don’t think we should address it all?”
“Why would we not?!”
“Listen… It’s just giving that person what they want: attention. Nobody else was agreeing with them, so it’s not like we have much to worry about.”
“Not yet! But what if people start reading deeper into everything we do? Then we’re in deep shit.”
“You’re in deep shit.” He corrected without much thought, immediately facepalming himself for two reasons.
One, that was an asshole thing to say. And two, the way your face immediately fell made him feel like crap.
“Oh yeah… I forgot…” You whispered softly, more to yourself than out loud.
“No no, wait.” He didn’t like that expression on your face. “I didn’t mean that. Slip of the tongue. You’re right. It’s our problem, and we should fix it together.”
Friends don’t leave friends to drown. Even if said friend is in this situation because of their own stupid, idiotic actions.
“Yeah…” You nodded before looking away.
Now, it was like a wall was between the two of you. Beomgyu felt kinda bad. This whole time you had been trying to be nice to him and build a friendship, but he only gave you half-hearted reactions and treatment. Sure, you had probably only done it so that your fake relationship would look realer, but still… You were trying so hard… And he wasn’t trying enough.
No wonder he was so confused about whether he liked you as a friend or partner. Fake dating really is a terrible idea.
“Hey, why don’t we stream again? Like nothing happened, and if someone asks we can shut it down there?” He suggested, wanting to fill the silence and show you he cared at the same time.
“That could work… What should we say?”
“Pretty much that that person is reaching. It’s simple, to the point and we don’t have to make anything up.” Beomgyu made a mental note to also make a tweet condemning any of his fans for spewing hate about you. “How about that?”
“Sounds good to me. When should we do this?”
“Yeonjun actually wanted to be in one of my vlogs, so we can meet up with him tomorrow? Hang out and then record? Two birds with one stone…”
“Yeonjun…?”
“My best friend.”
“Ah… Wait, you brought your friend with you? What, you thought I was gonna murder you or something?”
“He had to shoot!” Beomgyu defended, “And to be fair, he was the one that thought you’d murder me. I trust you.”
“Oh really?” You looked surprised.
“Yeah,” Beomgyu smirked mischievously, “Trust that you wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything. You have no chance against me.”
“What?! I’d totally kick your butt if I wanted to!”
“Sure.” He dragged out the last syllable, making it extremely clear that he was being sarcastic.
“You know what? Let’s go! Right now!”
“No thanks, I don’t wanna have to explain to Yeonjun why we have to flee back to Korea before I get arrested.”
“You are not funny!”
The way you guys could playfully banter like this was making Beomgyu even more confused. He enjoyed your company, which was normal for friends… But he couldn’t help but think you were so attractive the way you shook your fist at him. It’s not like he wanted to kiss you. Or did he? Do friends kiss? God, he sounded like a loser right now.
Maybe he should text his friends again…
If Taehyun was here he’d probably set Beomgyu straight. But Taehyun would also drag him for every decision he’s ever made and then call him dumb. Jake was unhelpful for things like this, given he was a prime example of what not to do in relationships. Yeonjun was helpful… when he was available. Which wasn’t often. He was probably out right now. Keeho? He was pretty normal and pretty helpful too… But, he was addicted to being in people’s business and getting himself involved with both sides of the party...He did not want Keeho to start talking to you.
Maybe he should just take a nap.
“Fine, fine, you win.”
“Damn right I do!” You grinned, laying on your back to look up at your bare ceiling. “So… What do you wanna do for dinner?”
“Pizza?”
“Yes! Can we get it with pineapples?”
“No? What monster eats pizza with pineapples?”
“I’ll have you know me and NingNing adore pineapple pizza.”
“WHO??”
“Oh! That’s what I call Kai.”
“Oh. I thought you had an imaginary friend or something…Anyways… No pineapple on the pizza.”
“Darn.”
© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.
#k-labels#kflixnet#kpop smau#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu smau#txt smau#txt x reader#beomgyu social media au#choi beomgyu x reader#choi beomgyu smau#beomgyu fic
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The BuckTommy OF!Buck fic (with eventual BuckTommyEddie)
PART ONE (You Are Here)
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR (Coming Soon)
notes: Come and get your smut, babes. Read at your own risk. 18+
This chapter is 1250-ish words of Tommy's POV. Again, just smut. I've lost control of my brain again.
From this post here. @tiltingheartand I figured you might be interested :)
Tommy doesn't understand how Evan, his boyfriend, affords his frankly ridiculously nice loft apartment. He doesn't really care, he likes spending time with Evan any where, any time, but it lingers at the back of his mind.
He knows Evan, knows he's not doing anything criminal, he's too sweet, too caring. He is very smart though, so maybe it's crypto? Maybe he made some smart investments? Maybe an inheritance or a small lottery windfall?
He knows he shouldn't worry about it, it's not his business, they're not married, they don't live together, it's really none of his concern.
But...the loft is quite nice. All exposed brick and open floor plan goodness. So he wonders.
They've been together now for a few months (3 months, 2 weeks and 4 days, officially) and he knows he loves Evan. He knows Evan loves him. Evan is, despite the hilarious rocky start to their relationship (Ally? Seriously Evan?), a perfect boyfriend.
Which is why one sunny Sunday afternoon he stops by Evans apartment to surprise him. They didn't make plans because Tommy was on call, but he never got called in.
He lets himself in with the key Evan gave him (for emergencies of all kinds... including sex emergencies, which Evan made sure to point out) and is surprised to hear the bass-y thump of some sort of music.
"Baby? You around?"
No answer. Hmm. The music is coming from the bedroom so he heads for the stairs.
He's even more surprised when he gets to the top and sees Evan, blindfolded and jerking off in the middle of the bed. He's changed the sheets, a dark navy blue set that Tommy hasn't seen before, but what really stops Tommy in his tracks is the camera.
Pointed directly at the bed, capturing Evan in flagrante delicto, is a digital camera.
Tommy is stunned, speechless and practically drooling, as he watches Evan's hand stroke his cock, the sound of it wet and dirty. He feels the rush of blood to his dick, the tugging of his boxer briefs as he gets hard.
Well. Isn't this something?
He watches as Evan comes, beautifully and copiously over his hand, the sighing moan of his orgasm making Tommy's dick twitch. He adjusts his dick so it's more comfortable then crosses his arms and leans against the wall to wait.
Evan comes down, sweaty and breathless, and takes off his blindfold. Then he notices Tommy and lets out a panicked shout as he flails around, trying to sit up.
"What are you doing here?"
Tommy grins, all teeth and smarm, "Thought I would surprise you, but I have to say that I'm the one surprised, baby".
Evan groans and covers his face with the hand that isn't dripping cum. He mumbles something behind his hand.
"What?"
"I said: 'I can explain.'".
Tommy motions for Evan to continue, he's invested but not impatient.
"Do you know what OnlyFans is?"
Tommy feels his mind go a bit static-y, all electric and gooey. His boyfriend is a cam boy? He's certainly beautiful, he's definitely horny, and it would explain the loft...
"You're on OnlyFans?" Tommy chokes out, blood is no longer in his brain but his cock could hammer nails.
"It started a few years ago...I was seeing this girl and she introduced me to it. I thought it was hot, you know? That all these people liked looking at her enough to pay for it. She helped me get started and well... I liked it. I like knowing that people think I'm hot. The money is good too, I'm not like a top creator or anything, but I do alright."
Tommy just stares at Evan for a second then, with Evan's full attention on him, he reaches down and strokes his dick over his pants.
"Evan, baby, you are gorgeous and I am absolutely your number one fan, so I get it. Tell me what you do on camera."
Tommy unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down to his thighs, stroking his dick and staring at the love of his life, who is too breathtakingly, heartbreakingly, sexy.
Evan takes a deep breath, and then releases it, eyes not leaving Tommy's cock.
"Mostly I just jerk off. Different poses, different things I say depending on if I've had requests. When I started seeing you I started getting more adventurous...fingering myself on camera, that was popular."
Tommy doesn't react except to lightly squeeze on the downstroke.
Evan continues, "You like that? Like that I opened myself up and people watched..."
Tommy moans, "You're so hot, Evan. They all get to look but I get to touch. Fuck."
Evan stops for a second to think.
"Would you want to make a video with me?"
Tommy stops his hand, "Absolutely."
Evan motions Tommy to get on the bed and then goes to the camera and angles it so Tommy's face isn't in view. Then he presses record.
Evan crawls up the bed, facing Tommy and with his back to the camera. He grabs a condom and rolls it on Tommy's dick.
Evan, loose and open from his own exploration earlier, throws his leg over Tommy's and positions himself.
"You ready, baby?"
Tommy doesn't respond except to nod and grab his dick to position it at Evan's hole.
Evan sinks down and moans, Tommy is a big guy, and he's big everywhere. Tommy knows what he's packing and god does Evan take him so well. Evan is tight and warm and Tommy feels his eyes roll back in his head.
"Yeah, just like that Tommy. Oh my god."
Tommy grabs Evan's hips and starts moving, holding Evan still with ease. Evan is so pretty it drives Tommy crazy, he kisses him as he moves inside of him, pretty and perfect and adorable.
Tommy has to admit that the thought of strangers seeing this turns him on. It's fucking hot, his boy on full display as he rides Tommy's dick.
Tommy has been turned on for so long but he's not going to come until Evan does, he's a gentleman.
He takes on hand off Evan's hips and reaches for Evan's dick, as pretty and hard as diamonds.
He strokes Evan as he lifts his hips, the slick sounds of lips and fucking filling the room. He hopes the microphone is good enough to capture the beautiful sounds Evan's making.
Evan whimpers as he comes, spilling across Tommy's hand and belly.
Ignoring the mess, Tommy puts his hand back on Evan's hip and goes for gold, nearly lifting Evan as he thrusts.
It's only a minute more before he comes, spilling into the condom and growling his pleasure into the side of Evan's neck.
After a moment, he gently helps Evan off and to the side to lay down. Evan is tactile and cuddling with him is one of Tommy's favorite things. Evan lays his head on Tommy's shoulder and laughs, softly.
"So what do you think?"
Tommy thinks for a second, "That's going to be your most viewed video, baby."
LATER
Tommy had viewed the edited video before Evan posted it, and he knew it was a knockout, a winner. Evan had let him know that Tommy had been right, the video was a success. His most popular video on the site.
They hadn't discussed making more yet, but if Evan asked then Tommy was going to say yes. His boyfriend could probably ask him to hide a body and he'd say yes, but Tommy wasn't thinking about how bad he had it for the younger man.
#bucktommy#just pure fucking smut#kinkley#tevan#i have no clue what the ship name is#shadow's writing tag#911 abc#fanfic#evan buckley x tommy kinard
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Dead by Dawn (Part 7)
Azriel x Cassian x Reader
Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.
Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, eventual poly!relationship, undead, death.
Word Count: 4,921
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)
_________________________________________
Day 191
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
When you wake up you’re surprised at how peaceful the world around you is. The sun is shining down into the van, warm across your face. It’s quiet, which normally would have alarm bells chiming off in your head, but you’d fallen asleep to the touch of Cassian’s soft hands kneading your tender ankle just like you’d been needing. Knowing Feyre was in the front seat and had some kind of strange sway over Rhysand had made you feel safe enough to succumb to your exhaustion.
You blink the sleep from your eyes and stretch your limbs. You hum at the stretch of your legs, noting how dull the throbbing of your injury has become thanks to Cassian.
It only takes a moment for you to notice that you’re alone. The small van is empty but there are signs that your friend and traveling partners haven’t been gone for long. Weapons gone from seats where they’d been sitting, extra crates of clothes tugged out and rifled through, even Cassian’s bag of seeds had been left open in a haphazard way and you wonder who would’ve dug through there and left it like that because you surely know that it isn’t him.
It’s late, you can tell by the sun in the sky, bright and nearing its peak. You must’ve slept almost half of the day away. The doors of the vehicle are wide open, letting in that summer breeze that you can’t help but to take a hearty breath of. If you strain your ears, you can hear Rhysand and Feyre bickering – or maybe it’s flirting – softly.
You haven’t felt this content in a long time.
Rubbing your eyes with your fists, you wince as the injury slashed across your palm pinches. You’d forgotten about the clumsy slice you’d given yourself and a flash of embarrassment heats your cheeks as you remember how you’d lied on the ground so willing to give up on everything.
Before Azriel had saved you.
Sure, Rhys was there too, looking out for the both of you and shooting zombies in their rotting faces if they stumbled too close, but all you can think about is how warm Azriel’s chest was, how big his hands were as they held you tightly, how deep his voice was when he’d been muttering under his breath to keep you awake–
You clear your throat, shoving away the fluttering feeling that starts up in your stomach when you think about him. You’d gotten the same sensation while Cassian’s thick fingers had been poking and pressing in all of the right ways into the delicate injury of your ankle. You wonder what else he might be as skilled at with those hands–
You flail around for your backpack, finding it shoved under the seat. You tug it out with your good hand, unzipping it to rustle through your things before you realize that you don’t have any water left to clear your suddenly dry throat.
Collapsing backwards onto the bench once more, you let yourself have a minute to wallow about the loss of something so important and gather your bearings. You could probably sleep the whole day away if you wanted to, with how tired you are, but you figure you better go save Feyre from the three strangers you’ve been riding with.
You groan softly as you sit up, cringing at the mess you’ve left behind on the seat. Dried blood from your wounded hand is smeared haphazardly on the perfectly worn leather, embedded into the cracks. Your shirt sticks to you when you peel it up to wipe at your face, and you frown at the feel of the crusty fabric rubbing against your skin.
You make a note to try and clean up before you move on.
“(Y/N), you’re awake,” Feyre grins when she spots you carefully shuffling out of the back of the van. “Can you please tell Rhysand that we should be heading west instead of east?”
You eye her suspiciously as you shuffle closer to the group, catching how she makes a face at Rhys as if to say ‘watch this.’ The way that she smothers her grin and bats her eyelashes makes your stomach twist, because right now you’re realizing that she might be starting to change her tune about the group, just as you are.
They’re lounging on folding chairs that you hadn’t even noticed they had. Where they kept all of these things in that tiny van is beyond you, but it also offers a sense of relief that the three men are so prepared.
It makes you feel taken care of.
You glance between everyone before taking a look at your surroundings. It’s an abandoned RV park. There’s only one other vehicle on the other side of the parking lot and it clicks in your brain that the chairs had probably already been here.
There are plenty of trees surrounding you and you know that while you wouldn’t have chosen this as a place to stop for the night had you been awake, you trust that if Feyre had agreed to it, you’ll keep your opinions to yourself. At least the place is mostly abandoned, the other looking vehicle most likely already ransacked and checked over by your group, so you find yourself relaxing a little as you perch next to Cassian, who beams up at you as you sit on the bench.
“Feyre, can you lower your voice before you attract something we don’t want around?” Rhysand huffs in retaliation.
“Awe, but with a voice as high as hers, it will be pretty easy to attract some wildlife,” Azriel mutters from where he’s sitting across the table from you, back towards you. His spine is stiff even though his body is posed in a relaxed way, elbows propped up on the table as he leans into it. His fingers twitch with the need to feel the heavy metal of his gun in his hands.
He is a true ray of sunshine this morning.
“Fuck off, Shadow,” Feyre flips him off even though he can’t see it, but he straightens as if he can.
“What the hell did I miss?” you ask, studying the interaction closely. Something must’ve happened while you were sleeping because as far as you remember, the two hated each other. But now there’s a determined gleam in Feyre’s gray eyes, like she’s accepting the challenge that is becoming someone Azriel trusts.
If she keeps up with that nickname of hers, she’ll be more likely to find a cure before ever befriending the broody man.
You brush the weird feeling off, not daring to join or delve further into your thoughts of what a friendship between the two of them would look like. Between what a friendship between you and Azriel would look like.
“I don’t know which way we should go, but I know that east is the way that we came from, so I’d rather not head back that way, right?”
Feyre smirks smugly as the men stare at her for a moment before their curious gazes swing your way. The shock on their faces nearly makes you burst out laughing.
“How do you know that?”
You furrow your brows, feeling as though the answer is obvious. “Basic astronomy. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” You chance a glance at Azriel but you aren’t able to make out the look on his face due to the dark sunglasses he has on. It makes you feel a bit off-kilter. You normally aren’t able to see what he’s feeling other than the hatred he has for you and your friend, but with his eyes covered and the straight line of his mouth, it makes you feel even more unsettled.
You swallow nervously, a tickle in your throat as you tack on sheepishly, “Plus, we have a map.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” Azriel says at the same time Rhysand speaks.
“You let us drive around in what could’ve possibly been a circle all night?”
“I was a little preoccupied,” you defend, waving your hand around for emphasis before gesturing to your ankle for good measure. Rhysand shoots you an apologetic look and turns to Feyre, questioning her on how she’d forgotten to mention that you both had a map.
“How are you by the way?” Cassian asks you as Rhys follows Feyre back to the van like a duckling follows its mother. You need to keep a closer watch on the two of them but Cassian’s warm hazel eyes have you feeling fuzzy like you had been waking up safe under the sun.
Azriel watches silently as you and Cassian interact. You’re turned toward his friend and he takes the time to really get a look at you while you’re distracted. The structure of your nose, the set of your eyes, the pink flush to your cheeks when all Cassian had done was ask you how you are. Your face is dirty, blood dried to your smooth skin, along with sweat streaks and grime and now his fingers are itching to dip the rag into the bucket of water he’d gathered from the nearby lake and help you wash the grime from your pretty face.
He curses himself for his thoughts, but he can’t help but to look. He watches the way you react to everything Cassian does, the way your body language moves, and Azriel watches intently as you lean into Cassian only slightly, unconsciously as you answer him.
“I’m alright,” you answer honestly, “Hand hurts a little, but my ankle feels a thousand times better thanks to your magic fingers.”
Cassian laughs and Azriel watches him wink at you, follows you as you duck your head a little to bite back your smile, the tint to your cheeks. He frowns at the interaction, something hot flaring up inside of his body. He pushes away from the table, suddenly annoyed with the situation.
“Where are you going?” he hears Cassian call after him but he doesn’t stop. He slips a hand onto his holster, letting the metal cool his overheating hands as he stalks off without responding.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
After Azriel has walked away, Rhys and Feyre are quick to appear with the map, spreading it wide across the picnic table in front of the four of you so you can go over where you are. Once finding the general area of where you’d all stopped for the night, you mark it with an old pen Rhys had produced, and then he and Feyre had proceeded to argue about where to go next.
You excuse yourself because your ankle is becoming stiff, so you abandon a bored looking Cassian at the table.
Feyre passes you a water bottle and a granola bar as you go, without even a pause to her conversation with Rhysand. You’re more than happy to let the two of them take the lead on this one, knowing that she is on the move to find something incredibly important to her. You, on the other hand, have nothing.
You clap her on the shoulder in thanks and make your way towards the van, settling on the bumper to eat your meal.
The now rust colored seat taunts you as you eat, forcing yourself not to devour the snack that you’ve been without for too long. Your stomach growls loudly in protest, wanting more, but there isn’t any until your next meal, so you ignore it, letting your thoughts about the dirty seat consume you.
And that’s how you find yourself crouched over the seat in the back of the vehicle after you’ve eaten, trying to scrub your blood off of the leather.
It’s taking a bit more work than you’d like, and you might be a little worried about sore muscles in your arm and working your food off so quickly, but you should’ve known how hard it would be to get the seat clean. The throb in your ankle is back from the pressure you’ve been putting on it, even kneeling, and you’re pretty sure you’ve torn a stitch in your palm.
It’s not going well.
“You don’t use water to clean leather,” Azriel’s voice startles you and you flinch, nearly knocking over the small bucket of water you’d lugged from the lake to the car across the warming asphalt. Your heart races in your chest, unaware of just how quietly he moves.
Sitting back on your heels, you glare over your shoulder at the dark haired man who’s leaning against the back open doors with his arms crossed over his chest. You nearly lose your breath at the sight, a sharp exhale as your hand clenches subconsciously around the rag in your wounded hand.
Azriel looks considerably cleaner since you’d watched him stalk off this morning, a cleaner pair of jeans and a tight see-through white t-shirt that makes you wish you had some water left over.
It’s a stark contrast from his all-black attire, though his new denim is still as dark as his hair, the shirt makes him seem…brighter. White is not a color you would choose to wear during the zombie apocalypse, but maybe he hadn’t been able to be choosy at the time. Maybe white was all there was left.
You clear your throat, turning back to your work as you feel the blush creep up your neck because you’d caught yourself staring too long. He’d even let you drink him in, nearly preening under your darkening gaze as it traveled up his chest and across the still rippling muscles of his arms. Those extra push ups are paying off.
“We don’t have any damn leather cleaner,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. You scrub harder into the leather. Maybe you can blame your red cheeks on putting so much effort into cleaning the seats, though you don’t think anyone will even appreciate you doing so.
Well, perhaps Cassian will.
Azriel digs around in one of the crates, tossing it onto the seat next to you.
A bottle of leather cleaner.
You stare at it, mouth agape, before you scoff, snatching the bottle up from the seat.
“Of course you have this,” shaking your head and shooting him a withering look. “A necessity for the end of the world.”
Azriel shrugs as if he’s already bored with the conversation. “It was conveniently here when we found the car. The owner kept it in pretty good condition,” he says as he runs a hand alongside the door.
“Sorry to uh, ruin it then,” you stutter, refusing to look Azriel’s way again. He looks so good all fresh and clean and you’re itching with the need to put on clothing that isn’t crusty with your own blood.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, voice taking a softer tone and it shocks you. He continues, muttering under his breath so softly you nearly miss it. “Just glad you’re okay.”
Your breath catches in your throat and your hand falters where you clean. You don’t even know how to respond, if you should or if you should pretend you haven’t heard a word. You swear you can feel his golden gaze burning against the back of your head like the sun, but when you finally muster the courage to glance over at him, he’s gone.
You release the breath you were holding, finally relaxing a bit now that you’re alone again. There’s no point in overthinking, he probably was just thinking that it’s a good thing you’re safe for Feyre.
The cleaner works wonders, and you curse because you could’ve saved yourself so much more time if you had known about it before.
At least I’m done now, you think, sitting back on your haunches and admiring your handiwork. The seat looks back to the condition it was in before your blood had spilled all over it, and you think it might even sparkle a little in the golden rays of the afternoon sun.
You’ve worked up a sweat, and you hitch your shoulder up to wipe at the bead of sweat rolling down your cheek but the scratchy, stiff fabric has you retreating and shuddering at the incorrigible feeling again.
The dirty cloth you toss lands in the bucket with a soft splash and you climb out of the car, rolling your ankle to get some of the stiffness out.
Maybe if you ask nicely, Cassian will help you out again.
You so desperately want to rip your shirt off and toss it away, or at least drag it into the nearby lake with you, but instead you make your way back to where the group is still sitting around the abandoned table and plastic chairs, warped from the hot sun.
They all look cleaned and changed, more comfortable and relaxed than ever.
There’s not a dried splotch of blood in sight.
“What happened to you all?” you can’t help but to ask, suddenly jealous that no one had told you they were all going to wash up. You hadn’t even noticed anyone gathering the extra clothes from the van where you’d been cleaning for the past hour.
“Didn’t want to disturb you,” Rhys answers and you glare. He raises his hands in surrender as he continues, “You didn’t even notice I came for fresh clothes.”
And oh, so that’s what happened.
You swallow harshly, noticing their old clothes laid out on the table and various free spots around, drying in the sun.
“We went in shifts. Azriel had to help Cassian get clean while Rhysand watches over us because they still don’t trust us even after we’d gotten them gas and saved their asses, multiple times,” Feyre rolls her eyes. “And I went with Rhys because we didn’t want to go alone. You’re the only one left.”
You cut her a look as she explains that she’d gone alone with Rhys into the lake to get clean. From the pink tone to her cheeks that she’s so desperately trying to hide and the smug smile Rhysand is doing a shit job at holding back, you know something went down between the two of them.
You decide to keep quiet for now, though they’re both being about as subtle as a hungry zombie.
“Are you going to come with me?” you ask Feyre, hopeful to see if she has some sort of plan that maybe involves finding more food or something without the three men.
“Can’t. I’ve gotta stay here and make sure these three don’t up and leave us as soon as we get down to the lake,” she answers simply, and that’s that. You don’t miss the offended faces Rhys and Cassian give her. “Azriel will have to go with you.”
Your heart kickstarts in your chest. “What? Why?” you sputter, fingers finding their way to play with the collar of your shirt that’s suddenly clinging to your damp skin and making you itch.
That’s the last thing you want.
“Why can’t Rhys do it,” Azriel throws in, looking just as annoyed as you are. He can admit that he’s happy it’s not Cassian who’s going down there to help you get cleaned up, but he doesn’t exactly know how to act around you. You do nothing more than confuse him.
“Because Feyre and I are still trying to figure out where to go,” Feyre nods surely and crosses her arms over her chest.
“It’s Shadow or you go alone, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t go by yourself. Sorry, (Y/N).”
She doesn’t sound sorry.
“Here,” Cassian passes you a pile of clothes before you can protest again. He’s giving you an apologetic look that makes you sigh and begin feathering through what’s been passed your way. It looks like Feyre had pulled the clothes you’d stuffed in your backpack from the shop you’d ransacked because there’s a clean pair of jeans, fresh socks and underwear. You make a face when you hold up a shirt you don’t recognize and it unfolds into a top three times larger than yourself.
“What’s this?”
That cheeky grin of Cassian’s you’re becoming all too familiar with appears again as he shrugs.
“Feyre couldn’t find a shirt in your pack and she didn’t have any extras, so I offered up one of my own.”
You stare at the fabric in your hands. It’s a sooty brown and it's so soft that you could cry. Just the gesture alone is enough for your throat to go tight.
Azriel scoffs, startling you, “It’s not going to bite. Let’s go.”
He’s not waiting around for you, pushing up from his spot and heading towards the lake without a glance over his shoulder to see if you’re following or not. You know your cheeks are burning bright at his words and you gather the shirt with your other clothing. With a sincere ‘thanks’ towards Cassian you’re rushing as quickly as your ankle allows after the brooding man.
The walk to the lake is silent and it stretches on longer than you’d like because of the thick discomfort around you. You ignore Azriel’s stiff demeanor as you follow, keeping your attention on your surroundings, double and even triple checking for signs of zombies left behind.
When you’re sure the area is clear you find your gaze trailing to the tightness of Azriel’s shirt spread across his back. You wonder if the three of them set designated times throughout the day for push ups and other toning exercises or if their amazing muscle structure is all from the end of the world. Surely not, because your muscles don’t look like that.
If your gaze slips down to look at his ass, that’s no one's business.
“Here,” Azriel gestures to the spot they’d all used to bathe earlier. It’s shallow enough with no hidden shelves, so you won’t go tumbling off of the ledge into the lake and he won’t have to come wading in after you. He shoves a travel sized tube of shampoo at you that feels empty. “That's all we’ve got left.”
“Thanks,” you give him a forced smile, refusing to meet his gaze.
“We all cleaned our clothes the best we could with the lake water. Just toss them back onto the grass when you’re done,” Azriel explains, and coughs a little, “There’s no towel though, so you’ll just have to sit in the sun for a bit like we did.”
Your gaze snaps to meet his. “What?”
“I mean, you don’t have to,” he defends, and he hides his sudden discomfort well. He doesn’t think about what you’d look like splayed out on the grass glowing under the bright sun and he doesn’t think about doing it with you.
Azriel scrambles for something to say, “But that’s what we did. Or at least Cassian and I.” His tongue pokes out, running across his bitten raw lips, watching as your eyes follow the motion. He wonders if you can see the way they’re tingling, if they’re still swollen from Cassian’s own.
His response answers any and all questions you have about Feyre’s time in the lake with Rhys.
“Right,” you swallow the lump in your throat as his pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. You discard the feelings creeping up in the pit of your stomach at the sight and focus on the way Feyre and Rhys are seeming to be becoming awfully close so fast. You don’t like it one bit.
“Can you maybe turn around?”
He studies you for a moment, your words soft, shy, though Azriel doesn’t think you should have reason to be. If he were Cassian would you ask him to turn around? Are you hiding a potential bite? Or does he just make you that nervous that your cheeks are stained red and you can hardly meet his gaze?
Azriel gives you a sharp nod, the muscle in his jaw twitching as if you’re going to plunge a knife in his back as soon as he turns.
Right. You look for a dry spot to place your new clothes, keeping your eyes on Azriel as you strip yourself bare, frantically wading out into the water until it covers all of the parts you wouldn’t want his golden eyes touching right now. It’s cold, but feels like heaven especially when you use the last of the shampoo to scrub the thick layers of grime from your hair and body.
It’s tough to maneuver your bathing in the lake, having to keep your injured hand above the waterline so it doesn’t get infected, but you make as quick of work of it as you can, the murky water obscuring your vision to anything that might lie beneath. You know that zombies can’t swim, but they definitely don’t need to breathe. They could be anywhere.
Cleaning your clothes without getting your other hand wet is a feat in itself, so you decide that dipping them into the water is better than nothing. Maybe you can convince Feyre to come back down here and ring out the blood for you. You cringe at how gross that sounds.
You toss them back up to shore, a wet slap as your pants land perfectly on top of the pile of drenched clothes.
Azriel lets you take your time. He doesn’t turn towards you and he doesn’t complain once as you scrub your skin raw with the dirty water. It’s the best thing ever. You don’t move to make conversation with him either, your mind completely focused on cleaning yourself up for the first time in weeks.
You climb out of the water, covering yourself with your hands the best that you can manage. The constant walking and lack of food have changed your body in a way that you haven’t thought about until now. Usually you’re covered up or in blood.
Azriel listens to you struggle as you tug the denim up your legs. He doesn’t offer help, but it takes all of his self-control not to peek over his shoulder at you. There’s a soft voice in his mind, like someone whispering in the shadows of the night, telling him to turn around, admire the beauty of the female that is behind him. He curses at it instead, glaring holes into the thick tree he has pinned under his gaze.
“Thanks for waiting,” you murmur when you’re dressed. You don’t care that you’re still fairly wet in your clean clothes. You’d thought about foregoing the jeans and waiting until your legs dried a little because Cassian’s shirt covers the parts of you that you don’t want anyone seeing, but your rational mind had won out, struggling into the pants in case something happens where you need to run or defend yourself.
Azriel lets out a soft breath when he turns around and gets an eyeful of you. You’re even prettier now and he wishes that he would’ve looked. You’re swamped by Cassian’s shirt and your clean skin and big eyes make you look all the more vulnerable. His hands twitch at his sides as he refrains from tucking you under his arm to protect.
Your skin is clear of dirt and blood, creamy and slightly red from how hard you’d scrubbed it. The way the sun shines down on you makes him feel like he’s looking at an angel.
“What?” you ask, shrinking down on yourself. You knew he wouldn’t be happy about Cassian giving you his shirt to wear, they needed to keep the resources they have to themselves if they want to survive longer than they already have, and the way he’s staring at you like a void confirms it.
“Nothing,” Azriel responds quickly, startling at your question. He steps closer to you, some of the tension leaking out of his body when you don’t flinch or move backwards. The words bubble up in his throat before he can stop them. “You just missed a spot on your face is all.”
You haven’t, but he needs some sort of excuse to touch the creamy skin of your face, enraptured by your beauty. He prays that you don’t see through his façade as easily as his friends would.
“Really?” you ask, using the wet shirt you’d dipped into the lake to scrub at your cheek again.
“No, it’s–it’s right here.” Your breath snags in your throat when he takes your soiled shirt and rubs gently at your face.
You’re acutely aware of how close you’re standing to him. So close that if you dare suck in the gasp of air your lungs are screaming for your chest will brush against his. It’s a stalemate as you stare up into those glorious hazel eyes, the both of you so still as to not scare the other away.
Feyre’s squawk startles you both, jumping apart like your ass is on fire.
“I, um,” you trail off, shaking your head. You snatch your shirt back from Azriel who tucks his hands quickly into his pockets, and you spin on your heel to book it back towards the camp. You duck your head so no one can see the flames kissing your cheeks.
Azriel watches you rush off and sighs before scolding himself, getting himself back into check. He tugs his damp locks in frustration and trudges after you, kicking himself for what’s just happened.
“We’ve decided to spend the night here,” Feyre announces when you both return to the picnic table.
You’ve never wanted to drown her more.
#azriel x cassian x reader#zombie au#acotar#acotar zombie au#azs_azz#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#cazriel x reader#acomaf#azsazz
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This whole sequence was amazing in every way. I love that it starts with his trying to do his patented "nothing is wrong" but she won't let him and she figures out pretty instantly it's that poison because they are behind schedule and so he didn't get to the next place with the antidote.
Their discussion about the minister - as she points out, minister could have sent someone with it, and he returns yes but he wants to control and punish NYZ and make him suffer, so he won't, then segues into this:
And I start freaking out a little because this is the moment I realize that his desire to leave everything and everyone behind and live in seclusion on an uninhabited island is a result of serious damage, the same way her automaton planning to have a baby as per orders and living as an automaton was a result of her serious damage.
Earlier, he told Shisan that he feels heartbroken for her because in her world it's all missions and killing and revenge and he wants to show her there is more to life, but the thing is, he's just as damaged and just as self-limiting as a means to cope with trauma, it's just his coping mechanism is different. She wasn't a seducing murder automaton because that's her innate personality - once she got a taste of normalcy, she developed desires and tastes of her own. But it becomes really clear that he doesn't want to go live on an uninhabited island in the middle of nowhere because he's an extreme introvert, but because he's been so damaged and hurt, physically, mentally, and emotionally, by all the court cruelties and games and being a pawn, that he just wants to hide. It is a sign of healing for her to decide earlier, actually no I don't want to live in solitude far from the world and I wanna travel and help women and I love cities blah blah and it would honestly be a sign of healing for him to decide he doesn't want to be in the middle of nowhere either. There is a vast difference between being a pawn in court and just being in the world traveling freely doing whatever you feel like.
Another thing that is great is how self-reflective he is. He probably knows this is a sign of damage but this is the quickest to him way to fix it. But also, this bit, he is just so GOOD with her:
I love that after this she adds, not like you could abduct me and they laugh. They are both so attracted to each other's strength.
He can read her like a book, but the wonderful thing is, she can read him like a book too. They truly are soulmates in the traditional sense of the word.
Like when she says this - and the look on his face!
I may have flailed a little (a lot!) at her saying this because at the start it might seem like a very functional dude fixing a broken woman but the more it goes on, the clearer it becomes that it's two differently-broken people fixing each other. I love it so!
This is the crux of this - it's like he told Shisan earlier, it felt great to have someone where he didn't just protect them but they could protect him too (and that is why Baby Marquis has no chance btw - clearly what Ruyi wants is a relationship of equals but it could never be that with Baby Marquis. With NYZ, they both get what they need from each other. Baby Marquis could get what he needs for his issues from Ruyi but what would she get out of it?)
AAAAAAA!!!!
To be seen fully and to be loved for that is the most heady feeling in the world.
And then she gives him the candy back and I eeeee a little but then this happens and I basically pass out:
If we do get a happy ending, I really do think it will be them traveling the world together, far from any of the courts but not in the middle of nowhere either.
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