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hearts4renaa · 2 days

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SO HIGHSCHOOL ~

summary: all the corny, cute, romcom type things you guys do that makes everyone at NRC swoon. featuring the dorm leaders. contains: 1.4k words in total of fluff fluff and more fluff. gn reader, one of the lyrics i reference uses "her" but that's it. a/n: inspired by 'so high school' by taylor swift! i might make this into a series.... lololol we'll see! please enjoyy

“’Cause I feel so high school, every time I look at you ~”

“You knew what you wanted, and boy, you got her ~”

Riddle went above and beyond while courting you, giving you flowers, remembering and celebrating basically every important date, and eventually officially asking you to be his.

You giggle and almost coo when you open your locker to yet another small bundle of roses. You gently grab the small bouquet, letting yourself relish in both the floral scent and the affection you feel by this gesture. Ace and Deuce groan from besides you, already knowing who they’re from. “Geez, that guy and his roses, hey?” Ace comments. “That’s the third one within the past four weeks!”

You shush Ace playfully, your fingers trailing over the little paper tag attached to the ribbon. Your brain recognizes the penmanship almost immediately, for this handwriting has expressed numerous words of love towards you countless times before. Your heart flutters as your eyes scan the paper.

I love you forever, dearest.

“Truth, dare, spin bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle ~”

You go to all of Leona’s Spelldrive games! you show up in Savanaclaw colors, your hair styled like his, and the biggest smile on earth.

“And look at that!” the Spelldrive announcer exclaims. “Yet another goal from Savanaclaw’s very own Housewarden,” The camera captures Leona’s signature smirk as he high fives a nearby teammate, high off the adrenaline of the game. “He’s playing well tonight,” The announcer speaks. “And I think we all know why!”

The camera pans to your absolutely shining face, cheering from the stands with crinkled eyes and hands clapping. Leona pauses for a moment to look at you, his eyes locating you almost immediately. “I love you, you’re doing great!” You mouth to him in pure excitement. Leona cracks a small smile before getting his head back in the game. He scored six more times that night.

“Get my car door, isn’t that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat ~”

Azul gives you total gentleman treatment! You haven’t opened a door in ages and you completely forgot what carrying a bag feels like.

“Thanks for tonight, Azul.” You smile at him as the two of you begin to approach the entrance of the Ramshackle dorm building. “I had a great time, as always. You didn’t have to walk me home, again, though.” You chuckle lightly. Azul gives a small smirk back, but his eyes gleam at your comments. His hand squeeze yours just a little tighter, and a faint blush starts to creep up his face.

“I’m glad,” He says softly. “And you know I’d do almost anything to spend more time with you.” Your front door comes fully into view and you feel as if it’s ending all too fast. Despite how many dates you’ve gone on, the rush of being out with Azul is something you’ll never get fully used to. He always leaves you craving him and his company. The two of you come to a still at your porch, and he turns to face you. He whispers your name, bringing your hand to his mouth and lightly kissing your knuckles. You swear that no fairytale prince could ever compete against him.

“I’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night ~”

You’re the first person Kalim looks at when he tells a joke. Taking you to his family home proved that he was absolutely serious about you, and it’s so evident that his siblings can see how much he loves you too.

The group of younger siblings burst into another fit of laughter at Kalim’s joke, as if they had never heard anything funnier in their lives. “Again, Kalim,” One of his brothers tugs on his sleeve. “Tell another one!”

While Kalim’s jokes were inevitably corny, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as well. The smiles of the little children were infectious, their energy fueling your own joy. Kalim tells another joke, but his eyes weren’t focused on his siblings’ reactions. No, he wasn’t even looking at their faces at all. His eyes automatically find your figure with each joke he tells, and he feels his heart swell each time you laugh. With your head thrown back and your eyes wrinkled with giggles, he’s never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It’s just a game, but really, I’m betting on all three, for us two ~”

Vil likes to mention you in his interviews, and he does it almost unconsciously. Questions about his romantic life are inevitable with someone of his level of fame, but he handles each one with grace.

The studio lights would be blinding for most, but Vil’s been in this industry for so long that he’s gotten used to it. The questions from the interview have been rapid fire, and Vil responds to each one with a graceful, almost calculated response. He’s been running on autopilot the entire morning; well, until your name gets brought up.

“Now, I just have to ask,” The interviewer crosses her legs and leans in towards Vil, as if he was telling her a secret. “Kiss, marry, kill: Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and your partner, Y/N?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment before answering the question. “I wouldn’t kill any of them,” Vil responds with a small smirk. Kissing you is as easy as breathing to him, and the idea of marrying you sends a chill down his spine. He loves you like he was made for it, and his devotion shines like a glittering gem. Vil continues his response. “But the first two options are reserved for Y/N and Y/N only.”

“Brand new, full throttle. Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto ~”

Idia likes to have some sort of physical contact with you at all times. At first, he was really jumpy, but your touch has become a comfort to him.

You hum as you lean onto Idia, your head resting on his shoulder. The lights in his room are dim, save for the bright TV near the edge of his bed. Your left arm is linked with his right one and you nuzzle your cheek into the fabric of his sweater. The clicking sounds of Idia’s controller lull you into a drowsy state, the late hours starting to hit you.

Idia looks away from his game to gaze at your sleepy figure, and he feels his cheeks start to heat up. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve done this, but the intimacy of it all still brings a warm, fuzzy feeling into his chest. The idea that the two of you could simply link arms, sit in silence, and do your own things and be content astounds him just a little bit; He thought you would’ve gotten bored. Your affection for each other runs much deeper, but you can feel all of it in the form of linked arms.

“No one’s ever had me, not like you ~”

What’s there that Malleus doesn’t do for you? But seriously, one of his favorite things to do with you is stargaze at nighttime, where his affection for you is at an all time high.

The night air is soothing as the chill creeps up your skin, keeping you awake. Malleus sits next to you, his presence being a comfort. The moon is bright tonight, the field quiet, with the occasional chirp from the nearby birds. The stars in the sky create a masterpiece of little lights, and Malleus can’t help but stare at you like you’re a work of art.

Malleus rubs his thumb into the flesh of your hand, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. He feels the sudden need to ask a question that’s been weighing on him for a little while. His voice rings in your ears.

“You truly don’t fear me?”

You giggle lightly, letting go of his hand and turning to fully face him. Your fingers brush past his cheeks, cupping them gently and bringing your foreheads together. “I could never,” You whisper, smiling brightly. “Not when you love me so deeply.” His heart swells with affection. You open your mouth to continue, but his lips crash against yours before you can get another word out.

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souliebird · 3 days

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[[and then I met you || ch. 20]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.3k

ao3 link

Pain radiates through your body as you begin to regain consciousness. There are two points that are throbbing and parts of you want to slip back down into the darkness until the aches are gone, but the rest of your body doesn’t like that plan.

Slowly, the switches in your mind are flipped to ‘on’ and you become more aware of what is happening around you. There are two people talking near you - a man and a woman whose words you cannot yet process, but the deeper voice sounds so very familiar and comforting. It takes a few moments or hours - you cannot tell - for you to give a name to who is speaking, but when you finally figure it out, your mouth speaks his name.

“Matt…?”

Your name is said, then something is touching your face. Your instinct tells you to pull away, so you try to, but there is a gentle pressure keeping you in place.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. It’s just me.”

Forcing your eyes open takes a few tries and you have to blink multiple times to get anything into focus. Slowly, Matt’s face forms in your vision, looking so, so haggard. His hair is fluffed up like he’s been messing with it and he’s got a frown that is so out of place on him. He should be smiling or laughing. That is how you always picture him in your mind - warm and happy.

You realize it is his hand that is cupped along your jaw and press into it, letting your eyes close again. His thumb begins to rub along your cheek and you want to melt into it and allow yourself to drift back into the nothingness where there is no pain. Matt, however, has other ideas.

“I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

You do not want to do that, but since he is asking, your eyes open again. Your brain feels like sludge, but it is your knees that are screaming at you to not move.

You are startled into being more aware of your surroundings when a feminine voice speaks from above you.

“Matt, you need to move if you want me to do anything.”

He seems to hesitate, his face screwing up into something clearly unhappy before he finally pulls away from you. He doesn’t go far, though, stepping only a foot away. Only once your vision isn’t filled with a handsome-exhausted lawyer do you process that you are laying on your couch. You have no idea what is going on, why you are in pain, or how you got to this position, but part of you feels at ease because Matt is there with you.

You trust he won't let things go badly for you.

A beautiful, but tired, woman steps into your view, a pen light ready in her hand. She has an air of authority about her that has you not questioning why she is in your living room.

“My name is Claire, I’m a nurse,” she tells you and you introduce yourself. “You passed out. I'm going to check your eyes and ask you a few questions to make sure you don't have a concussion.”

“Okay.” You don't remember passing out, but it would explain a few things. Your anxiety-people-pleasing mind pushes your confusion down and wanting the examination to be easier for Claire, ask, “Do you want me to sit up?”

“Do you feel like you can?” She counters and you don’t really know the answer, so you try. Your head throbs as you do and your knees are not happy about bending, but you get yourself into sitting. More pieces are added to the puzzle of what is going on, but none of them make any sense.

You couldn’t tell before, but Matt is wearing a dark red jumpsuit that reminds you of Captain America’s armor. There had been a news segment where they had brought out a replica to talk about the design and the function and all you can think is Matt somehow got his own copy and customized it. For whatever reason. You certainly don’t know all of his hobbies - it could be a cosplay thing for all you know - or some kink - or both.

You are in no position to judge.

The other puzzle piece is Karen’s boyfriend, sitting at your kitchen table looking at his phone, with your daughter in his lap. She is splayed against him in her bright pink jammies and her sleep headband, and you can only guess how deep into dreamland she is. But why is she out here, being held by a near-stranger, and not in her bed?

You don’t get to ask that question - Claire is back in front of you with her penlight, shining it directly into your eyes. As she does, she fires questions at you.

What is your name? Birthday?

Where are you and who is the current president?

What is twenty divided by four?

You pass the concussion test and are rewarded with two of the biggest ibuprofens you have ever seen. You take them, chasing them down with water from your sticker-decorated water bottle, as Claire tells you what is what.

“You have a decent sized cut on your forehead. It needed three stitches - and those will dissolve on their own, so you don’t need to worry about that. I’ll give you some of these higher milligram pills for the headache you’ll have, but a good night’s rest will have you up on your feet again. Do you need instructions on how to clean the cut?”

You take in the information at face value, still unsure why you are being examined and cared for in your living room as opposed to a hospital. Everyone else seems so sure of what is happening and completely fine with it, so you simply shake your head.

“Um, no, I know how to take care of it.”

“Perfect,” she turns away and begins to pack up a backpack on the coffee table you did not even notice. “If you start getting nauseous, head to the ER. Now,” she turns to stare down Matt, “If my delicate hands are no longer needed, I’m going back to bed so I am well rested for the job I actually get paid for.”

“Thank you, Claire. I appreciate it,” he says in a soft voice, but there is a layer of gravel in it you aren’t used to.

The nurse finishes her packing, then looks to you with a small smile, “it is nice to finally meet you, I’m sorry it was like this. Late night calls have gone down since he told me about you.”

“Nice to meet you?” You say to her as she leaves your apartment, completely unsure of who you just met and what her connection to Matt is.

As you continue you try to comprehend what is going on, Matt moves towards you. He cups your jaw with both hands, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks, “what were you thinking?”

You frown at not only the rougher tone he is using, but the question, “Matt, I don’t know what is going on. I don’t…”

You trail off and finally mentally address what you have been ignoring.

Your hand creeps up to your face and you feel the edges of the band aid covering up the cut on your forehead. How did you even manage to do that? Claire said you passed out - but how? And why? And why are Matt and Frank here?

Did Minnie call them like she did with Foggy when you were sick?

You don’t know those answers, so you switch to things you can figure out. You search your mind, trying to recall what you were doing before you apparently passed out. You remember cleaning the bathroom, then Minnie coming in and throwing up.

As those memories surface, the rest rush you - you took Mouse to the bodega and on the way home, some man attacked you. You remember struggling and fighting then…then there is nothing.

The fear you felt then tickles back into your throat and you can feel tears starting to form.

“We were attacked,” you breathe out and almost instantly, Matt is pulling you to him, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you as the reality of what happened hits you. You cling back, burying your face into the rough material covering his shoulder, and try to not break down.

You’d been slapped a few times - but no one has ever tried to physically hurt you to that extent before. You had never felt so helpless - so useless - before. You hadn’t been able to protect your daughter.

Hands had been around your throat and in your hair and you had flopped around like a fish.

He could have killed you.

He could have killed Minnie.

Matt gently rocks you as you process what happened to you. You try to not cry, but you can’t stop it when some tears do start to fall.

“Why were you out so late?” he asks into your hair and the guilt pools in your belly. You were so stupid to go out.

“Minnie was sick,” you mumble against Matt’s shoulder. “Her stomach was upset, and we didn’t have Pedialyte. We had to go get some.”

You can feel him frowning into your hair and it just makes you feel that much worse about everything.

“It couldn’t have waited until morning?”

“No.”

It’s not you that responds - it's the man across the room you completely forgot about. You lift up your head to look at Frank, confused why he is speaking up for you. Matt partially turns, pulling you along, and angles his head towards the other man.

“No?” He questions, not sounding pleased at all that someone else is chiming in.

“No,” Frank repeats firmly. “That’s bein’ a parent, Red. Your kid needs something in the middle of the night, you go out and get it. That’s how it is - there ain’t no waiting until morning when they are sick. That’s how they get dehydrated. She didn’t do anything different than any other mother in the city.”

Matt’s lip twitches and you have the feeling he is trying to not scowl or snap. You can tell he is just worried and upset over what happened, but you’d never seen him like this before.

But Frank is right - there was no scenario in which you did not go to get Minnie what she needed when she was sick.

You look to your baby, and you need her in your arms. You pull away from Matt, wiping at your eyes as you do, and make your way to your small dining room. You feel more than see Matt follow you - practically becoming your shadow until you are in front of Frank. Once you stop walking, he is against you again, his chest to your back and his hand on your hip.

Your daughter is dead weight as she is passed to you and you cradle her to your chest, giving her hair a kiss before asking, “Is she okay?”

“She’s okay,” Frank assures, and you feel like he is speaking to both you and Matt. “Probably going to have some nightmares and be clingy, but you’ve got one brave and smart little girl.” You smile a bit at the praise, because you like to think the same thing about Mouse - brave and smart - your perfect little angel.

“Gave her some of that Pedialyte,” he adds, “and she drank it all, so hoping whatever made her sick will be gone.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. You feel like he is a father and that is why Minnie seems comfortable with him, but he has an air about him that makes you not want to ask.

You rock your daughter in your arms, feeling so grateful that she doesn’t have a scratch on her. You have no idea what you would have done if she had been hurt in any way.

You can feel yourself starting to calm - your tears are slowing as you accept and process things and part of you just wants to curl up in bed with your family and sleep for twelve hours.

Unfortunately, that is not in the cards for you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Matt’s head jerk towards the main door, and you can’t help but tense up. His vibe since you have woken up has been on edge and you're surprised he hasn’t snapped or something, yet. He pulls away from you to stalk towards the hallway and you hold Minnie just a bit closer to you, unsure what he could have heard.

He swings the door open and there is a woman with thick jet black hair and bored looking expression. She pushes past Matt without care and enters into your apartment.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

“What happened?” Matt asks.

“Well, he’s not dead, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon. I even got you a report number, so you can follow up,” the woman says, and you realize they are talking about the man who attacked you. That makes your heart start beating a little harder and your mouth feel dry.

“Did they say where they were taking him?”

You tune out of the conversation and instead focus on holding Minnie. You press your lips to her hair and avert your eyes away from Matt and the woman. You look briefly to Frank, who is back on his phone, then let your eyes wander elsewhere. Minnie’s sippy cup is sitting on the dining table, so you decide you can at least clean that up.

As you move around the table, something else catches your attention.

There’s a large black bullet proof vest sitting on one of the dining chairs, with a distinctive looking skull spray painted on it.

You’ve seen that skull before - it’s a common thing to see spray painted on a wall or post box around Manhattan. It’s a symbol everyone in the city knows just as well as Spider-man’s emblem or Captain America’s shield - it’s the Punisher’s logo.

The Punisher - whose real name is Frank Castle, who, if you recall correctly, looks strikingly similar to the man sitting at your dining table.

For some reason you do not understand, you do not panic. You simply stare at the vest, all the connections flying around in your brain, and mentally go ‘Well, that makes sense.’

The Punisher is here because he was with Matt.

Matt’s dark red jumpsuit isn’t a cosplay or a kink thing - it’s armor.

It’s armor because he is Daredevil - the protector of Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt is Daredevil.

Daredevil is Minnie’s Dad.

That’s why he sometimes has bruises and cuts you don’t ask about. That’s why his knuckles are scarred.

That’s why he is in your apartment tonight - Daredevil stops people from being mugged.

You were being mugged and he came and rescued you. He called his Superhero Doctor to come make sure you were okay so you wouldn’t have to go to the hospital and explain how a blind man stopped the attack.

“You okay?”

You look to Frank, and you expect to see blood and guns and mayhem, but all you see is the man who brought you soup. You see Matt’s friend and Karen’s boyfriend - who are two of the kindest people you have ever met in your life. They have treated you better than anyone ever has in your life. They care about you.

You flash back to your very first encounter with Frank and you recall how you were scared of him, but Minnie wasn’t. Minnie - who is unsure about everyone new. You trusted her instincts even before you knew about her gifts - you’d once heard you can tell a person’s intentions by how toddlers and dogs react to them, and you’ve always found it to be true.

So, you decide to trust Minnie as well as your initial reaction - it may possibly be because of a concussion but you would actually like to sit and think about what you just learned rather than react blindly.

“I’m okay,” you say slowly, sticking with how you feel in that exact moment, and not how your night is going. “I think I’m going to go lay her down.” You hesitate, then decide you still need to be a good host, since this is your apartment, ask, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“No, thank you, ma’am,” he says, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Think it’s time for me to head out - leave you and Red to have a talk.”

Your cheeks heat up and you know he knows you have figured out who he is. You hold Minnie even tighter and look down to your feet, your anxiety over being perceived starting to spike.

But you know better than to be rude and Frank has always been kind to you and Mouse.

“Thank you, Frank. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.”

You do not flee, but you do walk a little faster than normal to carry Minnie to bed. You oh so carefully place her down and tuck her in, making sure Pig is right there with her. Scooby must be out in the living room, and you’ll need to grab him when you finally are able to lay down.

You stare down at your daughter, who is sleeping so peacefully, and let everything wash over you again. You cover your mouth to try to repress a sob, but you know it doesn’t matter - Matt will still hear it.

Everything is changing so much and so fast and you don’t know how to deal with it.

First, you finally find Minnie’s father, then you find out he has super senses and your daughter inherited them, and now you learn he is a superhero.

You don’t know how to even begin to process this development. There is no guide for this and you aren’t even sure how you even feel.

You can’t be angry at Matt - you don’t know how he got into crime fighting, but you know how passionate he is about being a lawyer and helping people. You know he loves Hell’s Kitchen deeply and you can’t imagine having to hear every little crime that goes on.

You don’t know much about Daredevil. You know he sticks to Hell’s Kitchen and he’s made the area safer. He stops muggings and break-ins, and he’s cleared out various gangs. You know the community likes him for the most part - there is actually a mural of him in an alleyway near the diner.

But what does it mean for you and Minnie?

How does Matt being Daredevil work with him being a father? If you look back over the last few weeks, you haven’t really noticed anything off.

But what if he gets into a fight he can’t handle?

Or some bad guy learns who he is and comes after Minnie to get to him? You know that happens to politicians and cops and such, so it would be no different for a vigilante.

What secrets will you need to keep?

Do you need to learn more than basic first aid - like how to stitch someone up?

How will you explain this to Minnie?

Does he know Spider-man? Captain America?

Does he kill?

There are so many questions ping-ponging around in your mind you don’t notice when Matt enters the bedroom.

He comes up behind you and says your name in a soft voice before wrapping his arms around your waist. He holds you to his chest, chin dropping over your shoulder, and to your surprise, you find yourself leaning into his hold.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” he tells you and you close your eyes at his words, letting his voice wash over you and corral your thoughts into something quiet. “I had a plan to tell you - to explain everything. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to hide anything from you.”

You believe him.

You wish you would have known sooner, but you also understand why he didn’t tell you. It’s not just something you tell someone, and Matt has proven that his intentions have always been good.

“Am I going to get another binder?” you ask, sniffling a little as you do to stop more tears from coming.

“If you want one, I’ll make you one,” he instantly replies, “just please don’t take Minnie away. I beg of you.”

You can hear the fear and pain in his voice, and you know exactly how he feels. You remember how scared you were that he would take Minnie away.

You turn in his arms - looping yours around his middle and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that. Not unless she is put into danger.”

“I would never.”

Again, you believe him.

His arms tighten around you until you're snuggly pressed into him and you can feel armor and buckles pressing against you. You squeeze him back, needing the comfort and needing something to ground you.

You need to feel safe.

Matt makes you feel safe. He made you feel safe before you knew what he did in the night and now it’s just amplified.

“Did you stop him?” You ask in a whisper. “The man who attacked us?”

“I did,” he responds. “I’ll stop anyone who dares to try to hurt my family.”

You shakily nod against him, then ask the question you fear, “Did…did she see?”

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, the guilt is palpable, “No. Frank made sure she didn’t see anything.”

That eases your anxiety a fraction. You will need to talk with Minnie about what happened, and you already fear that conversation. She has never seen anything so violent before and you are surprised she isn’t already having bad dreams. You have no idea how she’s going to react in the morning.

You have no idea how you will react in the morning.

You press your face into the crook of Matt’s neck, where there’s some type of rough black fabric. He begins to rub his hand up and down your back - you don’t think it will be soothing, but you don’t want him to stop.

You want him to stay and hold you.

You want him to keep you safe.

So, you tell him.

“Stay the night,” you mumble against him, and he nods into your hair.

Neither of you move to pull away - you stay holding each other in front of your daughter and you wonder if he needs the comfort as much as you do.

It feels like time crawls by and your knees, which you must have banged up in the attack, start to make it known that you need to stop standing. Matt must sense something, as he nuzzles into your hair and whispers, “We can talk more in the morning. Let's get you to bed.”

You hum in agreement, then slowly bring your arms around to Matt’s front so you can place your hands on his chest, “I need to change. I’ll grab you some sweatpants and a shirt.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

It still takes you a minute to finally step away and when you do, his hands drop from you. As you go to dig for clean sleep clothes, Matt begins to undress. You try to not turn to look - you are curious about how the suit is put together and how he gets in and out. You didn’t see any zippers or other clasps, but you suppose he wouldn’t want those out in the open if he’s fighting someone.

You find two sets of sweats, one large enough for Matt. You hesitate to start changing, but then remind yourself that not only is he blind, but you’ve slept together, so you have no reason to be shy. So, you strip and pull on your new pajamas.

Matt is still working on his boots when you turn back around, so you set his clothes on the bed. You remember then you are missing a member of the sleep squad.

“Do you know where Scooby is?”

To his credit, Matt doesn’t look confused. You wait patiently as he uses his abilities, then smile when he tells you the toy is under the coffee table. You go to fetch him, and finally drop Minnie’s sippy cup in the sink, and when you return, Matt has finished changing.

You hold out Scooby to him with a small smile, “Do you want to tuck him in?”

Matt’s solemn face lights up and he takes the dog. You watch, with a strange lightness coming over your heart, as he places Scooby beside Pig. He places the tenderest of kisses to your daughter’s temple, and you can see him move his lips, but are unsure what he actually says.

You let him have his moment before taking his hand and tugging him towards your bed. He won’t be sleeping on the couch tonight and both of you know it. You lay down first, then he does, stretching out on his back.

“Come here,” he breathes, and you obey. You roll so you can curl into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. His arm wraps around you and you feel Safe.

Your body and mind feel so heavy as you close your eyes, and you hope you can sleep as peacefully as Minnie.

The two of you lay in silence and when you finally succumb to your exhaustion, as the darkness takes you, you once again hear Matt’s soft voice.

“I love you.”

AN: Its not mentioned bc Reader missed it but it is very important to me that everyone know Jess brought Matt his gloves as well.

Also new header :3C

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath

@allllium

@anehkael

@nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

@lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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suguann · 4 hours

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Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face.

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids.

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.

And then Mio kicks the ball into—

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips—

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.”

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.”

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.)

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #fem!reader #.things i write

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boba-at-323 · 2 days

Text

Stay-home dates with RIIZE !!

Note : OMG !! I had so much fun writing thisssss <333 || DID NOT PROOFREAD PLEASE || Also Idk what to tw but I have mentioned snacks a whole lot of time + I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL BUT LIKE SINCE IM FEMALE SO EXCUSE ME ;-; please enjoyyyy !!

Osaki Shotaro <3 !

Hmm, not a big fan, but as long as you're happy he is too !!

Omg !!

You ask him to film TikToks with you and he's MORE THAN HAPPY !!

So like you've saved a lot of trends and dances you wanna recreate with him.

He's so excited and gets all giggly over it!

Takes it a little too seriously…

Like you're looking at him with your jaw dropped and eyes wide because how did it take him one look to literally MASTER the dance.

Laughs embarrassed when you praise him !!

But you tell him that he's too fast for you ';-; so he apologises and suggests teaching you the dance step by step!

The two of you continuously burst into fits of giggles when something goes wrong.

ITS JUST SO FUNNY BUT IN A CUTE WAY FOR SOME REASON

You'd film like 29837209 TikToks and just have fun goofing around.

You might also end up exhausted on the floor reviewing the videos you filmed.

Thinks you look very cute and asks you to do this often with him!

Might get bored if you don't have a lot to do.

HOWEVER !!!

Would love to talk to you about anything really.

I feel like he's someone who enjoys conversing, so you might actually start having deep conversations that will last for hours.

Hmm rating 8/10 PLS HES SO ADORABLE <3

Rest of the members under the cut !

Song Eunseok <3 !

This man is literally so chill with everything.

Like you'd suggest going for a picnic on a volcano and he'd be like "lol ok."

Okay, maybe not that much but yk what I mean !!

So yeah you're probably sitting with him binge-watching some anime or series.

He's quiet the whole time and is actually very immersed in the story.

However, he will be passing comments every now and then.

And I tell you, these comments are so out of pocket???

Like you can't help but burst out laughing.

And he's just gonna look at you like "😐".

AS IF HE HADN'T SAID THE MOST FUNNIEST THING YOU'VE HEARD ALL WEEK.

So yeah be prepared cuz the witty comments he's gonna slip will crack you so bad.

Like it actually makes you question how his brain works

ESPECIALLY HOW HE DOES LITERAL STAND-UP COMEDY WITH THAT SERIOUS EXPRESSION !!!

But it's okay, that just means he's having fun!

Also, it's very hard to concentrate on whatever you're watching cuz he looks so pretty next to you.

Like you keep on looking at him, smirks 100%

"Yeah I know I'm too hard to resist"

GETS COCKY BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM !!!

Also makes sure you get your share of snacks!!

I'd rate it a solid 9/10 cuz it's really entertaining!

Jung Sungchan <3 !

HE IS NOT ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA !!!

But after much convincing, he gives in.

"At least we get to spend time together, right?"

YOU'RE BAKING TOGETHER YIPPIEEEE!!!

But what happens is like,

You're standing there tying your hair back, you ask him for help with your apron.

Gets a little too touchy

You have to slap his arm away and give him a death glare.

Pretends he doesn't know what he did rn 😔

Is actually a very good helping hand.

Like helps you out, follows everything you tell him to do, however...

Has his doubts, and totally shakes his head if he thinks smth is going wrong.

"Y/n are you sure it's 2 cups sugar?" "I don't think we should be using butter…"

NOOO ENDS UP GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE KITCHEN BECAUSE

Like he said, he takes up a large radius.

So this clumsy baby probably toppled over a lot of things, making a very big mess ;-;

Apologises repeatedly with sad puppy eyes 🥹

You kiss his cheek and tell him it's fine

Though you ask him to sit it out and let you handle the rest of the process yourself.

YOU DO DECORATE WTV YOU MADE TOGETHER SO HES VERY EXCITED FOR THAT !!!

I'd rate it a 4/10, this man is NOT meant to be confined to a small space.

Park Wonbin <3 !

Would prefer them actually !!!

He'd absolutely LOVE to cuddle with you throughout the day.

Like he'd just be clinging onto you telling you literally everything that happened to him cuz for some reason he gives me yapper vibes

Though he'd appreciate listening to what you have to tell him, leaving a trail of kisses all over your neck.

Also he LOVES your voice so much omg !

So he can also pull out his guitar and have a serenade with you (english 💀).

Would ask you your favourite song, and if he doesn't know it WILL make sure he knows it the next time you guys have an at-home date

If he knows, he plays it for you encouraging you to sing.

you tell him you think your voice sucks.

A DRAMATIC GASP COMES FROM HIS DIRECTION !!!

"Nonsense idc i just wanna hear your pretty voice <3"

Literally heart eyes for you once you start singing,

Like might actually melt, give you the softest, most lovesick gaze EVER !

There is a possibility he ends up messing up the cords cuz you distracted him !!!

He's so cute pls </3

Omg also, the two of you might also end up in the kitchen cooking smth together, blasting a playlist he made for you!

But you don't know that <3

He actually so desperately wants to do cliche romantic things with you but is too shy to initiate </3

It's giving that "Idk how to flirt so I'm just gonna stare at you till you marry me" meme

HOWEVER !!

Be prepared for endless back hugs because he's just so SO soft for you <333

Anyways yeah 11/10 (+1 is probably cuz I'm so down bad for him)

Hong Seunghan <3 !

My manz I miss him all day everyday ;-;

He's so sweet I tell you, agrees to literally everything.

Putting mbti and stuff aside, I think he'd actually plan out a few activities you could do together.

Like if you're going over to his place, hes prepared snacks and stuff for you.

Hmm !! Video games are a must I believe !!

Like I read he plays FIFA online???

SO yeah, if you know how to play, the both of you would spend hours playing together

I don't see him getting very competitive but will whine if you keep on beating him!

However, will also compliment on how great you are at the game!!

HE FEELS PROUD I TELL YOU !!

However, if you don't know how to play and absolutely suck (like me ;-;)

HE'D BE SO EXCITED TO TEACH YOU !!

When you mess something up, or like if you can't understand something, the pout on your lips makes his heart EXPLODE.

Like he thinks you're the most adorable ever, he'd start squealing if his pride lets him.

Ends up attacking you with kisses and hugs.

The game is long forgotten, just a clingy Seunghan showering you with love because of how adorable he finds you.

I'D RATE IT AN 8/10 TBH BECAUSE HE'D FORGET WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS !!!

Lee Sohee <3 !

SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING SOMETHING FOR HIM 😭

Unlike Seunghan, I can see him playing board games and such with you!

For example, the two of you could be sitting on the floor playing UNO.

But that got boring CUZ HOW DO TWO PEOPLE EVEN PLAY UNO !!!

So takes out a Jenga set because he thought it was very entertaining!

Both of you are screaming SO much when either chooses the wrong piece to remove.

HOWEVER, HE'S USING THE SPECIAL SKILLS EUNSEOK TAUGHT HIM!!!

Which is unfair to you and you WILL whine about it.

"All is fair in war and Jenga"

HIS WORDS NOT MINE !!!

Laughs at you because you're definitely the one who's going to topple the tower over.

So yeah you all spend a lot of time giggling and screaming over board games!

OMG ALSO !! Thanks to Anton, he bought some Lego sets too!!

You all start good but eventually get so frustrated because you can't find one tiny piece.

Ofc you give up and spend the rest of the evening with his karaoke machine !!

HE !! WANTS !! TO !! SING !!

And please you're just so mesmerised the whole time he's singing.

Like woah??? His voice is so good even when he's goofing around? INSANE!!

Though you aren't losing to him, so the both of you get SUPER competitive.

RATING THIS A 7/10 !!

Lee Anton <3 !

Like Wonbin, he'd also enjoy stay-at-home dates.

I can see him enjoying doing anything, to be honest.

Like for example, the two of you could just be lying next to each other sharing with each other reels you see.

Or just him listening to you telling him some tea from your workplace/college etc.

Sitting on the bed together with a variety of snacks sprawled around.

Like Sohee, I can even see him building Legos in silence with you cuz this guy is so patient !

Oh also!

He'd pull out his laptop and shyly ask if you'd like to listen to the music he's created.

After listening, your face is the shocked Pikachu meme.

"Woahhh my boyfriend is so cool :OOO"

Get's blushy over the compliments you shower him with.

Brushes it off saying it's nothing.

THATS A FREAKING LIE LEE CHANYOUNG!!

NEways, teaches you how to try making music.

Laughs if you cry about how difficult it is, he thinks it's adorable.

You ask him to delete the trash you've made, but he creates a separate folder to save everything you've made with him.

ITS ART TO HIM !!! HOW CAN HE THINK SMTH YOU'VE CREATED IS TRASH?!?!?!

Plus he treasures it so much like only if he could somehow just make you feel how much it means to him !!

SO YEAH !

Pretty cute, very cozy, overall nice experience 10/10 <3

Thank you for reading reblogs and reviews are appreciated ! <3

Title : Stay-home dates with Riize || Word count: 1652 || Genre: fluff ! || Pairing: Riize x implied Fem!Reader (tried making it gender neutral pt.29382938)

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dazed-and-confused23 · 19 hours

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Assumption

Just something short and sweet for Hancock.

Warnings! Drug use and withdrawls symptoms. Puking and the like. Reader comforts John. He's so in love. Hurt/comfort

Pairings! John Hancock x Reader

Masterlist

You know something is wrong with John when he has to stop for the third time that day to upchuck what little he's eaten. You stand off to the side after the ghoul had made it known that he didn't want your help right now. He had snapped at you to shove off, and you had, even if your concern now battled with hurt.

You're still wracking your brain on what could even make a ghoul so sick when you suddenly recall that you can't remember the last time Hancock had stopped for a short chem break. It's been at least a few days, you think, and your concern blooms into worry.

"John," you say and step close to his side. He leans on you without thinking, and you easily take his willowy weight, "When was the last time you had any jet? Or even a mentat?"

John spits to the side and takes a deep breath as he fights through how badly his stomach is cramping and the raging headache that threatens to send him to the ground. The world spins, so he closes his black eyes again.

"Dunno. Couple days, at least," He coughs again and opens his eyes, forcing himself to meet your gaze with an uneasy smile, "Sorry if I got any on ya, Sunshine."

"So you are going through withdrawals," you say, and John tenses under your hand. You grab his face, tilting his chin down to meet your unhappy gaze, "Why?"

If Hancock could blush, he would even with how bad he feels. It still amazed him that someone who was so pure as you wanted anything to do with someone damaged like him. He wanted to be better for you. You were his everything, after all.

"I heard you talkin' with Nick the other day," Hancock admits, and his shoulder draw up, an embarrassed tilt to his voice, "I want to be around for as long as I can, baby. So I thought the best choice was to stop my habit."

You cast your mind back to the conversation he's referring to, and shake your head with a sigh.

"Baby. I wasn't talking about you. Nick and I were talking about Cait," you say and grip his jaw when he tries to look away from you. You lean up and kiss him, and Hancock feels his heart clench in his chest, "If chems were the thing that killed you, you'd already be dead."

Despite the grim, harsh words, they weirdly make John feel better. And it felt good to know that his lover and best friend hadn't been talking behind his back about his chem addiction. His shoulders slump, and his shaky hands come up to grip your waist tightly. Hancock can't understand how he'd gotten so lucky.

"Maybe I shouldn't have assumed, huh, Sunshine?" John rasps, and you roll your eyes at his embarrassed grin and kiss him again. The ghoul drops a hand to fish into his pocket and pulls out a tin of mentats. He pops two into his mouth and sighs in pleasure when the chalky tablets melt under his tongue.

You meet his gaze with a content smile, happy to see the almost instant relief in Hancock's black eyes. Then scowl up at him, "You shouldn't have. We're a team, John. Remember that."

Hancock smirks, pocketing the metal tin. He drops his hand back to your hips as everything comes into sharp focus. John digs his thumbs into your sides and dips to press his lips to your brow.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, love. No more secrets," He murmurs softly. That's a promise John can keep.

#fallout #fallout 4 #john hancock x reader #fallout john hancock #hancock x reader #john hancock #hancock #x reader

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coffeeghoulie · 2 days

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Mushy May Day 11: Papa Time

Touring takes its toll, but there's nothing a ghoul pile can't fix.

Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers! <3

If Copia wished to know anything about touring before he had become the frontman of the Ghost Project, he wished he had known just how exhausting it was.

He rubs at his temples, slumped on his back on the couch in the front lounge of the tourbus. It rockets down an American highway, one that he can't remember where it starts or ends up. It's late, a tear-down run late, another run of Rituals upcoming. The rocking of the bus, usually soothing, is enough to shift and rattle his protesting brain.

Copia's subconscious tells him he needs to ask Aether for some healing quintessence, but then he remembers he's back at the Abbey, helping to pick up some slack in the infirmary, taking a step back from the spotlight. Aeon is a skilled guitarist, but needs some more time and teaching to get a handle on their magick.

He tries, Lucifer he tries to sleep, he knows he needs it, but the headache pounds on the inside of his skull like a kick drum. Copia huffs, slinging an arm dramatically over his mismatched eyes in a pitiful attempt to block out the light, already turned down for the night.

He's just managing to slip into a restless sleep when a tiny hand touches the sleeve of his tracksuit. Copia grumbles, blinking blearily up at his smallest ghoulette.

"Come join us, Papa?" Aurora asks, voice melodic even when she's just speaking. There's traces of Ritual paint still smeared around the corners of her mouth, the fine lines around her eyes.

"My ghoulette," Copia hums, trying to keep his voice down. "My head is not agreeing with me currently. Perhaps, eh, a rain check?"

Aurora's dainty fingers, clawed with sharp nails even in human glamour, curl around the cuff of his sleeve. "Papa, we all want you to join us. Come join the pack. Promise we'll make it better."

He cracks a smile, and she's been wrapped around his little finger from the moment he helped her stand after pulling her through the brimstone of the summoning portal, and he lets her pull him up from the couch. He groans as his back creaks. Aurora leads him back to the back lounge. As they get closer, the sound of seven purring and chuffing ghouls gets louder and louder. She slides the door open, and seven pairs of glowing eyes snap open.

Copia's eyes adjust to the darkness, watching as all of his ghouls sit up, expressions brightening at the sight of him.

"You got 'im, borealis," Cirrus says, her feather tipped tail swaying lazily where it's wrapped around Cumulus's thigh.

"Did'ya think I couldn't?" Aurora giggles as she leads Copia to the ghoul pile, snuggling up in between Swiss and Dew, who nuzzle up to her. Cirrus reaches over and ruffles her bubblegum pink bangs.

"Never doubted you for a second."

Copia hesitates, eyes darting within the mass of limbs and tails, trying to figure out where he'll fit in best. You've been in ghoul piles before, his mind oh so helpfully provides. Just get in there-

Before he can spiral any more, two big hands shoot out of the pile and wrap around his wrists. Mountain and Rain, in sync, pull him gently into the pile with an oof.

"Evenin', Papa," Mountain purrs sleepily, helping him arrange himself comfortably in the pile.

"How long were you waiting for me?" Copia asks, hoping he hadn't kept his ghouls up any later then they'd wanted.

"Not really that long," Rain shrugs, nuzzling up to Copia's side, skin cool against his warm, human body.

"Just didn't feel right without you," Swiss says, glowing gold eyes blinking shut in the darkness. "Me, Bug, and Rory all could feel it, your mind racing. You need some juice, Pop?"

Copia hums, headache just barely beginning to subside, knowing how safe he is, in the middle of his pack of loyal hellbeasts, ones he trusts and loves. "Eh. It would not hurt, my ghoul."

There's a flash of teeth in the darkness, and Copia fights the animal impulse of fear at the sight before Swiss reaches over, touching his temple. There's a shock of something tingly rocking through his nerves. The ache and pressure eases, and he sighs in genuine relief.

"Grazie," he says, sinking further into the pile of limbs and tails and bodies. Something deep inside of him relaxes, finally at ease.

He rests his head on Mountain's chest, listening to the deep rumble of the earth ghoul's purr. Aeon shifts in the pile, resting their head on the soft pudge of his stomach, chuffing happily and wrapping their arms and tail around him. Copia reaches down, playing absentmindedly with their white forelock, and the chuffing gets louder. Not overly so, definitely soothing. The warmth and contact and the bone-deep, draining exhaustion of touring all creeping up on him.

"Sleep, Papa," Cumulus hums, voice trilling softly. "We'll be here in the morning."

He smiles, reaching to pat her arm fondly before he falls into a much-needed, restful sleep.

#this is the first time i've ever written copia as a pov character please cut me some slack lmao #I don’t think I have his voice down quite yet #i mean he's been a side character in both of my multichapter fics but the focus was always on the ghouls lol #this was a good challenge for me lmao #dot's writing #mushy may 2024 #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #copia #aurora ghoulette

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whumpsoda · 18 hours

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Seeing Me in You - Part 1?

Wrote this on a whim :3 pretty short but who caresssss… might write more??? Might also delete later

cw: pet whump, threat of recapture, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, institutionalized slavery

——————

He shouldn’t have opened the door. Checked the peephole at the very least, as if that would have done him any good.

He could never have escaped them.

August stared ahead into the corridor of his apartment building, jaw falling slack as his mouth went wide and eyes stuck agape. A lump formed quick in his throat, tightly wound with sick acid burning a hole through his neck. His organs flipped and churned over one another, brain filling with flooding nausea.

WRU employees. At his house. August was going to be sick.

Were they speaking? Their voices reduced to a muffle inside his mind, hearing going blank. An itching sensation flared over his arm, just the spot where his tattoo was carefully shielded by his sweater. He lifted a hand to scratch at his throat, the place where a cheap collar had once sat and rubbed around his neck. The memories stung, yet not worse than the sight of such specific uniforms.

No, this was much worse.

His pulse was quickening my the second, heart beating in and out of his chest. He couldn’t breath. Warm, thick bile was slithering it’s way up from his stomach, twisting his insides in contorted knots.

They found him. After so long of comfort and faux personhood, they had found him. Come for him even, to take him back as their property. To refurbish him. To sell him and beat him back into shape, and to train him yet again-

Before August could so much as collect his scattered, bleeding thoughts of past horrors and tortures, one of the employee’s lips parted. “Would you like us to bring it inside? Or leave it here?” He muttered, so casual August almost couldn’t digest his words.

August, body filling ever so carefully with disbelief and panic, trailed his vision down to his feet where his eyes stopped. A large, nearly-fit-for-a-human sized box sat at the workers’ feet. He knew that box well. Very well. He’d been inside that box.

They weren’t here for him.

August could have jumped and squealed from a mixture of terror and joy that he was still safe, never to be recaptured and refurbished. At least, not yet, anyway. But there was a boxie in the process of a delivery at his apartment doorstep.

How could that be? How? What disgustingly cruel, rich asshole’s boxie was sitting inches away from him? Just waiting to be claimed as his own? And why?

His mouth moved swift beyond his own accord, mind gradually catching up with his quivering lips. “You… um, you can leave them there.” August croaked out, voice meek and continuing to waver no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“‘Kay.” He shrugged, and that was that.

They didn’t suspect a thing. No idea they dropped the order to the wrong person, let alone a former boxie. How impossibly lucky for the poor thing. August could barely believe it himself.

He watched with intense focus as the two employees calmly and quickly left, keeping an intense eye on them just until they finally turned the corner. As if at the last moment they would realize their mistake, and either take the boy back, or end up taking him as well.

Careful and terrified, as soon as he heard the pitter patter of their steps dissipate, he turned to the box.

August, still standing rigid in the doorway, with intense fascination trailed his vision over each and every little ridge of wood and nails, eager yet terrified to open it. He swallowed, thick and juicy saliva that rolled it’s way down his throat.

What just happened?

—————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

#Writing #my writing #whump writing #whump story #Bbu #box boy universe #box boy whump #bbu adjacent #Pet whump #pet whumpee #institutionalized slavery #Whump #whumpblr

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ghoultrifle · 1 day

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mushy may day nine !!!!

prompt: warming them up

characters: aurora & ifrit

word count: 650

summary: aurora tries her luck with a fire ghoul when the heating goes out

below the cut or on ao3 :))

She stands in the doorway of his room, a blanket roughly wrapped around her midriff, caught in the door as it trails behind her. It’s as if she’s been frozen in both time and temperature given how she just stops once the fire ghoul wakes up, rubbing his bleary eyes.

“R-rory?” Ifrit asks, processing the sudden appearance of the new summon in his bedroom. Why his bedroom? “What’s up, pumpkin?”

Through chattering teeth she manages to mumble out an explanation. “Cold, ‘n heating b-broken in the wing,” she stutters. “Can I…?” Her sentence runs off into nothing, her brain subdued by the cold.

“Oh- uh- yeah of course, let me just put on my dressing gown and I’ll be out of your hair.” He scrambles to get out of bed, not even noticing he’s still wearing his I ♡ MILFs boxers. The ghoulette giggles when he turns around to reveal the text on them, the most coherent noise she’s made since arriving at his door.

“No, silly! I want you in the bed too, how else is it going to keep warm? The heating’s fucked everywhere, even in here.” Ifrit goes to touch the radiator and, sure enough, it’s stone cold, much like the walls throughout the Ministry.

Disrobing once more, a confused look still paints his face, “Why me? What’s that little shit Dew up to now, hmm?”

“Nothing! Just everyone else already went to him so I figured you’d be the less popular choice and you have more surface area,” she says cheekily.

“Oh?! So you’re calling me lonely and fat? How lovely!” He teases, smiling wide, striding towards Aurora to pick up bridal style.

She gasps as Ifrit picks her up, cocooning her in the blanket. “Nuh uh! Jus’ saying Dewdrop’s overrated and you’re built like a dorito.” He carries her the short distance to the bed, it’s entirely unnecessary but they both revel in the faux act of chivalry on Ifrit’s part. He knows damn well Aurora is a princess and will treat her like one even if it’s through the lens of a goofy idiot.

The mattress wobbles as Ifrit ungracefully dumps the ghoulette onto his bed. Aurora inspects the plush navy sheets before plumping the accompanying pillows and dragging her finger along the headboard to inspect for dust. “Hmm seems to be up to standard Mr Fritter,” she says sternly, though Ifrit can see the smile building up and threatening to break her character. “I can confirm I will be gracing your bed with my presence today. Thank you for your application to Rory Bed Hog Limited and welcome aboard!” With that, she flops down, pulling the duvet right up to her ears, the blanket she arrived in abandoned.

“Why thank you Ms Rora, we here at Fire Ghoul Incorporated do hope you enjoy your stay. Please let us know of any requirements you may have to make your visit as smooth as possible.”

The ghoulette attempts a reply but they both burst out laughing before she can; her hearty chuckles jostling the bed. Both ghouls take a moment to collect themselves, taking deep breaths and averting their eyes from each other’s gaze because they know the second they look up they’ll crack up again. With one final grounding breath Aurora asks, extending her hand to the fire ghoul, “Join me?”

“My pleasure,” Ifrit replies, enveloping her hand with his and jumping into the bed with her. He pulls up the duvet and blankets, near covering Aurora’s small frame in them.

The room soon warms up as Ifrit begins to purr, Aurora’s hand in his. With the two of them cosy as can be, it’s no time at all before they’re both back asleep, the worries of the day faded as they just exist with each other. Aurora makes a very sleepy note to come visit the friendly giant more often.

#trifle writes #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #aurora ghoulette #ifrit ghoul #mushy may 2024

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bumblesimagines · 2 days

Note

i made breakfast.

let me just grab my things and i'll get out of here.

Love Quinn

i made breakfast.

let me just grab my things and i'll get out of here.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

The scent of pancakes drifting through the air filled your nose and reminded your stomach that you'd skipped dinner the night before, a gnawing feeling immediately blossoming in your stomach as your hazy, sleep-riddled mind began envisioning breakfast. Your mouth watered and you sighed, forcing your heavy eyes to open. You must've left a window open-

You blinked and blinked again and blinked one last time for good measure. You stared at the large, wall-length windows that gave a view of a neighborhood straight out of a magazine, a view you certainly never got when you looked out your shabby bedroom window and out onto the bustling, noisy streets of LA. You scrambled up, feeling the soft velvety sheets press against your palms as you took in the bedroom bigger than your apartment.

"Jesus..." You whispered, running your hand over the covers that definitely were worth more than your rent. Everything about the bed felt cozy. The size of it, the soft mattress your body sunk into, the cool pillows that kept coaxing you into slumber, the warm covers. You'd be half tempted to go back to sleep if it weren't for the worry that replaced the hunger in your stomach. Who owned the bed to begin with? Certainly not any of your friends or exes, unless one of them secretly had a fuckton of money they kept hidden away for unknown reasons.

The sleepy fog lifted from your brain, clearing away sluggish thoughts and any remaining exhaustion lingering in your body.

With a groan, you lowered the phone from your ear and pressed the bright red button, shaking your head as you made your way back to your friends. "No luck," You sighed, shoving the phone in your back pocket and picking up the dripping beer bottle. A chorus of sighs and quiet mutters followed, your friends exchanging looks and eye rolls. "Delilah's probably standing in front of a board full of pictures and little notes right now with her phone on Do Not Disturb."

"Or," Tessa began with a giggle, half her body leaning into her girlfriend's side. "She's totally getting railed by that cop. What was his name? Devin?"

"David." George corrected her with a snicker, earning a glare from you. He raised his hands in mock surrender, more snickers escaping him. "What? We all know he's been trying to get with her since you two broke up. At least he had the decency to wait, (Y/N)."

Swallowing down the beer, you shook your head. "I don't want to hear about Delilah or David or her ditching us for whatever reason. She always does this." You sighed, pressing your lips against the rim of the bottle and dropping your eyes onto the bar. A shimmer of disappointment swam with the bitterness, almost morphing into regret before Tessa leaned over, her vanilla-scented perfume invading your nostrils.

"Well," She purred. "There's a pretty brunette at the end of the bar whose been eyeing you since you walked in here. She's real pretty. I bet a little chat, some drinks here and there, and you'll forget all about Delilah by the end of the night, hm? Why don't you give it a shot?" You turned your head and sure enough, right at the end of the bar sat a vaguely familiar brunette with her eyes locked on you.

Oh, God, the pretty brunette. You squeezed your eyes shut and wracked your name for a name. Hope? Faith? Verity? Something along those lines, one of those names hippies or real rich people gave their nightmare children. You remembered her eyes, vibrant and an almost grayish blue that sparkled brightly with pure glee under the dim bar lighting. Her hair was brown, dark at the roots but lightened toward the end, her let-down strands framing her face just right. She'd been so eager to talk to you, to even listen. The second you sat beside her on that barstool, her attention never left you for more than a second. Damn. A pretty good score, if you had to be honest.

"Hey, you're awake! Good morning." A sweet voice greeted you, and there she was, standing in the doorway. She smiled widely, the bracelet wrapped around her wrist jingling with each step she took into the room. Even it looked expensive.

"Morning," You cleared your throat and eyed your neatly folded clothes on the chair by the vanity mirror. Better save your ego then take a sugar-coated blow. "Let me just grab my things and I'll get out of here." You told her, getting up from the far too comfortable bed and making a beeline for your clothes. You grabbed your shirt, and then a hand enveloped yours.

"It's alright, (Y/N). No worries, I promise." She smiled, her fingers curling around yours. "Please, use the bathroom if you need to. I put a spare toothbrush in there for you. You could take one of the robes and shower if you feel like it. I made breakfast for us. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I made pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon."

"Oh, uhm..." You could certainly get used to her lifestyle. "That's... kind of you."

"Of course." She placed her other hand on your shoulder and leaned in, pressing her lips against your cheek. "I don't know if you remember but I'm Love. Love Quinn."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #you netflix #netflix you #you netflix x reader #you x reader #you netflix x male reader #you netflix x female reader #you netflix x gender neutral reader #love quinn #love quinn x reader #love quinn x male reader #love quinn x female reader #love quinn x gender neutral reader

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ninalifz · 3 days

Text

Possessive Togame Jo

(Not proofread/English is not my first language, so please have mercy)

My Togame brain rot just had the best of me, and I had to write this 😅

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just know that Togame Jo is the most possessive man ever ! Like they said it in the anime, he's one of the most territorial at Shishitoren.

So I let you imagine if you are his girlfriend :

Like even when you're not with him, he'll have you wear his jacket so people don't mess with you even when he is away and that it is clear that you are under Shishitoren's protection. He'll buy you the same cologne as him just because he loves smelling his scent on you, and he thinks it's excellent "douchebags repulsive." His words, not mine.

And he will totally show that you belong to him by small actions, like you're at gathering, and is just go like "C'me here, babe" while patting his lap. He WILL take advantage of his height and lift your chin up when he want you to talk to him, every. Single. Time. He'll tie your shoelace then kiss your calf if you're wearing a skirt or stroke it if you're wearing jean's. Open your ramune or any or your drinks for you, and totally brush your hair out of your face.

If it starts getting cold, he'll just come close and zip up your jacket, then give you a head pat.

He'll lead you through the crowd with a hand on the small of your back, with that ass shiting grin. He will totally shoot lasers at anyone who looks at you more than 2 seconds and will always, and I mean ALWAYS, have a hand on you. Like your sitting, his hand is on your tight, or his arm is over your shoulders. Walking ? his hand is on your hip, and he is squeezing you closer to him as you walk. Standing ? he'll put his arm around you and have his head resting on yours or just use you to rest his arm (his tall mean ass live for this).

And God help the poor soul that even think of flirting with you, like my man will commit a murder. He'll come behind you and squeeze your ass, and just go like, "Oï oï, why is my pretty girl talking with a loser ? Can't you see that we're busy, hmmm ?" With that condescending voice and dark look of his. And when the guy left, he will just grab you closer and shove his tongue down your throat. Just to remind you who you belong to.

And if there is anything that he loves more than showing you off, it's when you are possessive. You're walking, and you grab his biceps instead of his hand, and he's ready to celebrate like the fourth of July. A hand through his hair, and he's in heaven. Making him sleep on your lap ? he'll just want to smooch you all over. Feeding him ? he's ready to propose on the spot. And the moment you start to act jealous, he's just ready to drag you at the altar right then and there. Tend to his injuries after a fight, and he is imagining how many children you two are going to have.

#togame jo x reader #wind breaker #togame jo

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kangnina · 9 hours

Text

MDNI - Moonlight 2

SKZ Masterlist (Felix x Chan x Jeongin) - Part 1 | Part 3

a/n: This AU crossover series can be read alone but it may be helpful to check out my drabbles for BFF!Felix and Neighbor!Channie for character references.

Felix’s chin is covered in saliva mixed with the sticky sweetness of your arousal. He gently stretches you out with three fingers. He sucks on your bud, moving quickly in and out as he works you up to your first orgasm. Your hips buck and your back arches off the bed. Clenching and trembling as you drip onto his fingers. Felix rubs tiny circles on your inner thigh with the thumb of his free hand. But the pretty little purrs he’s so used to hearing from you are currently trapped in your throat. He watches Channie grab a fistful of your hair, trying to push more of his fat cock into your mouth. Thankfully, he was able to convince Channie to let him soften you up a bit first by sloppily eating you out. But Channie still insisted on fucking your mouth in the mean time. You groan against his girth. “I know you’ve never had it so big. Relax your jaw. I’ll do the work. There ya go,” he says, biting his lip and bucking his hips. He’s not used to showing care or restraint during sex but he’s trying his damndest in consideration of Felix.

Channie is well aware of how inexperienced you are. That’s exactly why you’re in this position. Felix often confided in him about his secret plans to corrupt you. It made Channie obsessively yearn for the same thing. Channie’s advice to Felix: ‘Play innocent until she falls for it. Then fuck her dumb. Works for me. Every time.’ Then everything fell perfectly into place for Channie to convince Felix to let him have a taste. As Felix grew bolder with you, you grew more eager to please Felix. And now here you are. Much like Felix, all he wants to do is make you feel good while being so fucking bad for him. Channie wants to ruin you while you crave his command in equal measure. His methods are much harsher but effective all the same. Your watery eyes are fixated on Channie. He smacks your cheek and you gag. Lipstick smeared as drool runs down your chin. Only half of it fits in your mouth. “Open wider. Mmm. I’m still gonna destroy your innocent little pussy, don’t you worry,” he growls with both hands on your head now, fucking your mouth as he stares into your eyes. Just his cold gaze alone is hypnotic. You absolutely believe him. Your muffled whimpers make him chuckle.

Felix stands up, licking his sticky fingers as he lays beside you on the bed. He softly coos in your ear “Good girl.” Felix caresses your breasts as Channie continues to bully his cock into your sore mouth. Mascara stained tears roll down your cheek. “Checkpoint Moonlight, baby” Felix says, grabbing your hand, awaiting your response. You squeeze it only once to let him know you’re okay. “That’s my girl. You're doing so well, precious.” Felix leans forward to spit in your hand before placing it around his hard cock and squeezing it between his two hands. Stroking himself up and down, letting out a deep, soft moan as you tighten your grip. You try to concentrate on following Felix’s lead despite being consumed by Channie.

Your whole body and your brain is buzzing when you hear a voice yelling from the bedroom doorway. “You assholes started without me?!” Jeongin quickly peels off his clothes before kneeling between your legs, putting them over his shoulders. Channie doesn’t bother stopping “Sounds like a you problem, Jeongin. It’s your fault you're late.” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he runs his tongue over your cute little asshole then up through your folds before sucking on your puffy clit. He gently bites down, letting his teeth run back and forth against it. You writhe at the sensitivity and he moans. He giggles excitedly. He can’t wait to be inside you. “You’re lucky I was able to keep Channie from marking her before you could. I know that’s your thing,” Felix says, continuing to fuck into your hand. Channie finally removes his cock from your mouth and Felix takes the opportunity for a brief introduction. “Moonlight, sweetheart this is Jeongin,” he says gently, petting your hair as you look down at the small, muscular man with the eyes of a fox peeking up at you from between your legs. He smiles, “Hello Moonlight. Gonna make you see the stars as I fuck you tonight–” Channie and Felix both audibly cringe. “Stop talking and go fuck her mouth,” Channie says, pulling Jeongin away from your pussy so he can kneel between your legs. You let out a tired giggle before quickly remembering how sore your jaw is. You close your mouth.

Felix kisses your cheek and then pulls your face to meet his. He looks at you in awe. “You’re doing so well for me. For us.” You fist his cock tighter as he continues to softly kiss your lips, trying to distract you as Channie spits on your pussy. Twice. You're already dripping from Felix’s efforts but it means nothing when you feel the head of Channie’s cock pressing against your entrance. You groan loudly, gripping Felix’s cock tighter once more and pulling the bed sheets with your other hand. Jeongin is sucking and nibbling along your stomach and your ribs. Leaving hickeys and bite marks along his way. "These are gonna be so pretty tomorrow. Send me pictures, Felix," he says, while admiring his work. Jeongin sinks his teeth into the mound of your breast. “Oooh, Felix,” you whine as Channie pushes in, gripping your hips so tight. Channie scoffs. "Rude little girl. That’s not my name," he pushes in harder. “CHANNIE!” you scream as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Fuck yes! I'll tear your apart so Felix has to put your back together again,” he taunts wickedly. Jeongin joins in with a maniacal laugh of his own and Channie shoots him a look. "There can be two villains! Don't be greedy!" he says, taking your face away from Felix and shoving his cock into your mouth. You tongue is numb and your lips are tingling as Jeongin sets a steady pace, fucking your face. His cock fits perfectly, with ease. Jeongin grabs the headboard, assaulting your throat with the head of his cock a few times, laughing as you gag. But it still doesn’t fully distract you from feeling like Channie is gonna rip you from your V to your A. And you’ve forgotten all about Felix until he covers your hand in hot cum, while panting and whispering in your ear “You take his Channie’s cock so well Moonie. It’ll feel good soon. I promise.”

-----

@snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark @wildflowermooon @rylea08

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frozenjokes · 8 hours

Text

I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work

Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..

The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:

Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼️⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY

It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.

Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.

“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”

Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”

“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”

“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”

“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”

“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”

“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.

“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”

“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”

Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”

“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-

“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”

“Seriously.”

“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”

“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”

“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”

“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”

Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”

“Great.”

“You should go to work though.”

“I know your motives, Cub.”

Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”

“This is extremely appealing to me.”

“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”

“Scar will text you.”

“He might not.”

Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”

“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.

“I don’t know. Probably not.”

Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.

“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”

“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”

“You are in on this!”

“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”

“It won’t be.”

“If you say so.”

Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.

…

With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.

Apparently Scar had anticipated this.

“Well hello there!”

Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.

Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.

“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”

Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”

“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.

“Did you see my message this morning?”

“I saw it.”

“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”

Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”

“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”

Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.

…

Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.

Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.

“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”

Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)

“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.

Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”

“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”

“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”

“You paid him to do that?”

“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”

“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”

“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”

Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”

“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”

“This sounds awful.”

“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“

“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.

“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”

Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.

“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.

“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”

“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.

“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”

Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.

He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.

So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.

“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.

“Hello Diane.”

“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.

“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.

Eventually the door closed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”

“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”

Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”

“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”

Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Nothing.”

“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”

“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”

Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.

“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.

“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”

“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”

“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”

“I feel awful.”

Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”

The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”

Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”

“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”

Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”

“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”

Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.

“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.

“Of course.”

Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #hotguy #grian #cuteguy #cubfan135 #scarian #desert duo #convex #convexian #hermitshipping #hermitfic

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tskei · 2 days

Text

Extraterrestrial

My Githyanki playthrough inspired me to write a fic about my gith, Ilaara and Astarion's adventures. Haven't written in over a decade but Astarion got me to try again. Astarion POV for most of it.

You can also find me on AO3

Pairing: Tav X Astarion, F/M.

Content: Githyanki Tav, Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Alien Cultural Differences, Cleric Tav, Astarion Being Astarion, Flirting, Seduction, no sex in this chapter but will be in later ones. Ongoing fic

Words: 2,178

Summary: At night, he overheard Lae’zel and Ilaara sharing stories of their upbringings. He seized every chance to eavesdrop, even if it was a horribly tedious conversation. Ilaara, like all gith seemed to be, was a trained soldier, devoutly obsessed with their Goddess. She had dedicated her life to fighting in their queen's name, spreading her word across countless worlds. The poor fool—her queen was just another master. Yet, she seemed happy to serve. He couldn't stand her sometimes.

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

Chapter 1:

His plan had seemed perfect at the time. From the moment he saw her fighting those brain monsters, he knew she was no stranger to combat. At first, he’d assumed she’d been one of his kidnappers, considering her alien nature. Later, it was revealed that Githyanki were some sort of experts on every tadpole matter. So he made it his priority to get as close to her as possible and learn everything he could about their parasites.

Only after did he discover that the gith were sworn enemies to the tadpole. Much to his great displeasure, she was adamant that they must turn away what could be a great opportunity. No matter, he still could salvage this situation. He just had to listen and watch, get close to her, learn all the secrets she knew about their uninvited guests and prevent her from turning on him when he ultimately decided to use them or reveal his nature.

And so, he watched her constantly, studying her every move. These days, it felt like he couldn’t look away even if he tried.

Along the way, they had recruited another Githyanki (a much more aggressive one at that) and an incompetent wizard. Together with the black-haired half-elf, they seemed to be forming quite the merry little band already.

As his first night in the wilderness descended his companions started setting up camp on a dirt patch near the river. He scrambled his brain trying to remember how to do this but came up blank. In the end he copied half-hazardly what the wizard was doing and threw some of the fanciest items he’d come across outside to give a more established effect.

He felt so lost and out of place but refused to let it show, instead shifting his expression into an indifferent scowl. At least it didn’t seem like any of the others had noticed his affliction. The wizard was busy being dramatic near the fire, the half-elf seemed torn between being nosy and keeping to herself and the two gith were engaged in an animated conversation about the tadpole.

Astarion had strategically positioned his tent near one of the Giths, hoping to overhear all he could about their parasites, but he was already regretting this choice. As soon as Lae’zel began describing the process of ceremorphosis, he felt an acute wave of nausea and had to momentarily block it out.

He hadn’t noticed Ilaara approaching, but he managed to regain his composure quickly.

“So, we're resting here? Turning in for the night?” he tried a phrase he’d heard once or twice but never really used before.

“Keep walking if you want. I'm getting some rest,” she replied. Her practicality was evident. Everything from her ramrod-straight posture to her stoic face spoke of routine and military training.

“No, I'm more than happy to put my feet up. I'm just not used to this,” he admitted.

He surveyed the camp once more—the quiet sounds of nature filling the air as their companions settled down, the campfire casting an almost cozy glow. But the serene scene was short-lived as a piercing screech shattered the tranquility. Lae’zel had taken to sharpening her sword on a whetstone, seemingly oblivious to the unhappy groans from their fellow companions at the noise.

“Your gith friend seems on edge. Mustn't relish the thought of sprouting tentacles.” he said, glancing over at her tent. “Understandable. Can't say I'm a fan either. It's just hard to join in when all of this feels so new.”

“The night normally means bustling streets, bursting taverns.”

For him, the night had always been for hunting and seduction. It had never been for trancing or resting, nor for chatting idly with aliens about a deadly tadpole.

“Curling up in the dirt and resting is... a little novel.” He couldn’t suppress the amusement in his voice. This entire day had been absurd, yet it was the best he’d had in a long time.

“The right herbs can make a soothing tea if you're restless,” she offered. He raised an eyebrow. An unexpectedly kind gesture, especially from her.

“Ah, no - tea isn't really my drink.” Thoughts of blood surfaced, as they always did. He realized he’d likely have to sneak out to hunt tonight.

“I'll be awake awhile anyway. I need some time to think things through. To process this.” He said gesturing at his head. “You sleep. I'll keep watch.” he offered with a practiced, sweet tone.

“Thank you. I'll sleep better for that.” she nodded and retreated to her bedroll.

He liked that. Despite her tough exterior, she seemed naïve enough to trust him.

“The pleasure is all mine. Sweet dreams.”

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

The day had begun well enough; they killed a bunch of goblins, which had been relatively fun, and stumbled upon a druid grove. It seemed there was some spat going on, he wasn’t fully paying attention as Ilaara went to talk to the men arguing.

“Stop squealing like hatchlings or settle this matter in blood.” she commanded.

One man turned to her with a condescending sneer.

“What chewed and spat you out?” the human scoffed.

Astarion’s attention snapped to the human. It took a moment to realize the insult was directed at Ilaara. A wave of indignation washed over him. They had just saved these ingrates from a goblin attack, and now this idiot was slinging insults just because he’d never seen a githyanki before? They should have let them get skewered at the gate.

“Show some respect! This woman saved your pathetic life.” the other man interjected.

At least one of them acknowledged their deed. The tension escalated from there, culminating in Ilaara knocking out the insolent human.

They roamed the grove in search of some tiefling Lae’zel was after. With two githyanki in their group, all eyes were on them as they passed. He wasn’t sure he liked all this attention after years of lurking in the shadows. Worse still, a horde of goblins could descend upon them at any minute. He hoped they would find this tiefling soon and just go.

“B-by Mordai’s eyes, more of them.” a voice quivered.

It seemed they had finally found him.

“M-my friend’s blood not enough? Come to me rip me open,too?” the tiefling sniveled.

Oh, he liked the sound of that, perhaps after they extracted the information they needed.

“In Creche K’liir, a formal greeting begins with a bow,” Lae’zel instructed, while Ilaara shot the tiefling a menacing glare.

Delight surged through him as the tiefling stiffened and slowly bent to bow.

“Lower.” Laezel commanded.

“On your knees. She won’t say it again,” Ilaara added, her tone less of a threat and more of a stern warning. The gith would not hesitate to make good on her words.

A delicious thrill filled him as the man’s knees hit the dirt. Astarion had never felt so powerful. So this was what it was like to be on the other side. He doubted he’d ever tire of this feeling.

“You saw another gith. Where?” “On the road to Baldur’s Gate, near the mountain p-pass. Saw us ‘fore we s-saw it. Jammed its b-b-blade through Yul’s belly, straight to the other side.” the man stammered, his eyes watering as fear shook his voice.

These gith sounded very promising indeed.

“No twisting? Kin must have been in a hurry.” Lae’zel mocked. “The map. Show me.” She demanded, thrusting the map in his face. He marked it hastily.

“Up. You can keep your innards.”

Damn, just when things were getting interesting.

“You’re not going to eviscerate him? I was hoping for a show.” Astarion complained.

“Cool your blood-I’ll indulge you soon enough.” Lae’zel retorted.

He hoped that was a promise.

This gave him an idea, though. The gith were powerful allies, and Lae’zel seemed to heed whatever Ilaara said. If he could somehow seduce the cleric, he might be able to manipulate her into protecting him out here. That is, if he could seduce her at all. He wasn't sure his charms would work on her. But they hadn't failed him yet, so he'd give it a shot.

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

At night, he overheard Lae’zel and Ilaara sharing stories of their upbringings. He seized every chance to eavesdrop, even if it was a horribly tedious conversation.

Ilaara, like all gith seemed to be, was a trained soldier, devoutly obsessed with their Goddess. She had dedicated her life to fighting in their queen's name, spreading her word across countless worlds. The poor fool—her queen was just another master. Yet, she seemed happy to serve.

He couldn't stand her sometimes.

“I saw our gith friend inspecting you.” he said, leaning into her, his face dangerously close to hers.

“I have to say, I thought you'd look worse, but no. Not a tentacle to be seen.”

“Not yet.” she replied, her stance unwavering, utterly unfazed by his proximity.

“'Yet,'” he echoed. “Of course, first sign of change and I'll have to stop that pretty little heart of yours.”

Astarion fancied himself an aficionado of murder, delighting in discovering the myriad ways one could die. And Ilaara, with her own lethal expertise, struck him as someone who would not shy away from such topics.

“I am open to suggestions. Knives, poison, strangulation - whatever you'd prefer.” he offered, a macabre generosity in giving her a choice in her demise.

“A knife. That seems quick.” she stated. Ah, so he had guessed correctly.

“A classic! One good thrust to the heart and you're gone.”

“We need a good blade, of course. Don't want to waste time hacking and prodding with a dinner knife...” His thoughts trailed off, the vivid imagery rekindling his hunger.

“Well, I'm getting ahead of myself. This is all a worst-case scenario, obviously.” he stressed the word 'obviously,' prompting her to raise an eyebrow. She wasn't well-versed in the creatures of this world, but his tone suggested a threat.

“And you? How should I kill you?” she inquired.

“Ha! Oh, my dear. I'd like to see you try.” He laughed flashing a dangerous smile that was all teeth. He was definitely threatening her.

But why? She thought they got along rather well so far. Unless…

Perhaps she had entirely misread him. He said he wanted to see her try. Had that been an invitation to spar? An exhilarating thought. Such a duel would provide excellent entertainment and a chance to showcase her combat skills to their companions. She resolved to accept his challenge, perhaps on another night when their circumstances weren't as dire.

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

Her pragmatism was appreciated at least.

She didn't waste their time with every lost, snivelling fool. She was straight to the point and took no excuses and didn't beat around any proverbial bushes.

It was a little intimidating, if he was being honest.

Ilaara approached a poor sap who was clearly struggling and failing to attack a dummy.

“Ugh!” the man jumped, startled. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve just never seen... your face is... well. I should get back to it.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. Not this again. How uncouth could these people be?

He looked her over from head to toe. Her skin was pale, almost human-like. She had round grey eyes, accentuated with dark makeup that made them stand out even more, and long black curly hair that framed her face. He would say she was even attractive, especially for a gith. He’d certainly done worse.

“Resume your flailing then, before I give you real cause to yelp.” Her attitude was even more attractive.

“N-no offence meant. I was just surprised- concentrating on this blasted target,” the man backed off “We need to be ready for a fight – but I’m useless with a sword.”

You could say that again. Wasting time on this one was pointless; he was clearly hopeless.

“Inspire fear with a war cry- loosen bowels before you spill them- hrath ajak!” She suddenly yelled, a deep sound that resonated throughout the grove. She really was quite feisty, wasn’t she?

The tiefling had given her an axe as a gratitude for the lesson.

As the camp settled into the quiet of the night, the fire crackling softly in the background, Astarion found himself reflecting on the day's events. The encounters, the conversations, and the subtle shifts in power dynamics had all led to this moment of tranquility. Yet, beneath the calm, he could sense the undercurrents of change stirring.

Ilaara, with her axe in hand, seemed more a fighter than ever. He watched as she practiced with her new weapon, each stroke methodical and precise. There was a grace to her movements that belied her strength, a dance of deadly intent and purpose. Her silhouette against the firelight was both formidable and strangely reassuring.

As the night deepened, Astarion made his way back to his tent. He lay there, eyes closed, listening to the rhythm of the night, the soft whispers of the leaves, and the distant hoot of an owl. He was ready for whatever tomorrow would bring. For now, he would rest, and let the wildreness' nocturnal symphony play him to sleep.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #githyanki

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httpkaulitz · 3 days

Note

I LOVE YOUR WRITINGG!!!ANYWAYS IMAGINE THAT YOU ARE MARRIED WITH TOM AND YOU GRAB SMTH,THEN IT FALLS DOWN AND TOM GETS BEHIND YOU AND HOLDS YOUR HAND,THEN YK..IF YOU HAVE TIME PLS DO SMTH LIKE THAT!ILY BAEE!!!

Yeees! tysm <3 hope you like it love.

From the corner of your eye you could see Tom standing in the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his body. He has this habit of sometimes just standing there watching you for a while and whenever you question him he says he's just admiring you.

And even though you've been married for a few years, you still feel nervous when he starts looking at you for a long time, knowing that most of the time he's not content with just looking. It was a waiting game and the feeling of anticipation made your heart race.

You turned around with the intention of putting some plastic bowls back in the kitchen cabinet, but as soon as your eyes met Tom's you lost your balance and dropped everything on the floor. Luckily for you there were no glass objects or anything sharp.

You could hear Tom's laugh and the sound of footsteps as you bent down to pick up what you had dropped. You felt his hand in yours and his body purposely pressed against yours.

“Be more careful, love. You could have gotten hurt.” You closed your eyes for a few seconds when you heard him whisper in your ear with a husky voice.

It didn't take many signs for you to know when Tom wanted you, but he liked to be obvious. You felt his hand slide up your arm slowly and move up to your collarbone before stopping at your jaw. He turned your face so you were looking at him.

“Shit, baby. Why do you have to be so beautiful like this?” He asked before closing the space between you two and leaving a short kiss on your lips.

You just laughed as you stood up, already used to his random compliments. Tom followed you around the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you put some things in the kitchen cabinet.

“Tom, I'm busy.” You turned in his arms, facing him and soon he placed his lips on yours.

Soft lips forced against yours savagely. You could barely keep up with the fast pace. His kiss was urgent and full of desire.

“I promise it will be quick, please?” He whispered against your lips between kisses. You let out a muffled moan when you felt one of his large hands grab your left breast and squeeze.

"Tom." You moaned as he trailed kisses down your neck and slid his hand between your legs.

"Hmm, you always look so hot I can't resist." He confessed in your ear as his fingers slowly stroked your clit.

Your brain was foggy with the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands roaming at your sides and his fingers gathering in the fabric of your dress as he grabbed your ass. You whimpered, your head falling back as his mouth moved over your jaw, his beard scratching your skin as he sucked hickeys on your neck. You moaned as you grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer.

A growl sounded low in his throat as he pulled away, his hands moving to pull the straps of your dress down your shoulders, his hand trailing them down your arms as your fingers found his hair again. Your body was on fire, your pussy throbbing with need as he slid your clothes off your hips, letting them fall to your feet.

His eyes were wild and dark as he picked you close, running his tongue across your bottom lip. He met your eyes again, smiling as he unpacked his own clothes and tossed them to the side, and you watched as the fabric was forgotten on the floor. Your eyes slid back to him as his huge calloused hand cupped your breast, your nipple hardening at the the gentle touch. You moved quickly, your fingers eager to touch him, to wrap your hands around his cock. He chuckled, leaning forward to take your hardened tip into his mouth, his warm tongue licking you and making you shiver violently.

“I know what you’re thinking, and as much as I’d love to feel that beautiful, warm mouth on my dick, we don’t have much time.” He whispered as his hand slid down the apex of your thighs, his fingers sliding through your folds and spreading your arousal. “I promised it would be quick, did you forget love?” The provocation in his voice didn't go unnoticed.

You whimpered, shaking your hips to try and get some friction from his hand, but he pulled it away, sucking his fingers into his mouth with a filthy moan.

Before you could protest, he grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting you off the ground easily. He held you with one hand, the other stroking his cock and sliding it through your folds, rubbing against your aching clit.

"Tom, please." You whispered with a needy moan, leaning your head against the wall behind you.

That smug smile was on his face as he lined up and slammed forward. You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders as he began to thrust, not even giving you time to adjust. He fucked you hard and fast, a steady stream of curses leaving his lips as you clawed at his skin, breasts bouncing as he filled you, his mouth on your neck.

He stepped back to watch you, the thumb of his free hand tracing the mark you knew he had left on your throat, his grip on your tense leg.

His eyes rolled back, his pace never wavering as he pounded into you, your legs wrapped around his waist. The mix of pleasure and pain making your entire body shudder. His hips moved at an impossible speed, the feeling in your belly increasing with each passing second. You moved your hands back to hold his shoulders, your vision blurred with tears of ecstasy, his cock poking your sweet spot with every movement.

“You're close, I can feel it. Let go, love.” He growled into your ear, his teeth tugging at the earlobe.

You clenched around him, your muscles tensing as you let out a choked sob, your toes curling as you came hard, shaking uncontrollably. You felt your body soften as his strong arms held you. A low moan left him as he came inside you. You still hugged each other for a few minutes before Tom finally spoke.

"Guess we'll have to order pizza... again." You both laughed as the smell of burning food could now be smelled throughout the house.

#tom kaulitz #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut

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