#filter this if you need to! or if you Care

[bunnwich]

Rituals☁️(Leona x Reader)

Leona is low on spoons after the Tamashina-Mina tournament and needs some attention. Also what better way for him to sneakily court his favorite creature?

Curated from my 200k+ words Leona x Yuu fic

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. Yuu knows massage therapy.)

Words: 3k, 3rd person

Notes: I saw a meme the other day about how: “Liberalism leaves people’s bodies when mental health starts to affect someone’s hygiene” and I thought of how the fandom used to treat Leona. Also, I really wanted to make the “he uses you as a pillow” cliche not icky. 

Tagging: @comingyourlugubriousness @nammanarin @twst-the-night-away @twstinginthewind @ephemii @the-monday-witch @anevilbunnyinthehat @stagefullofsilly @theshipthatneversetsail @patrioticarcreactor @ice-cweam-sod4 @beaniz @the-nightingales-song @efsstash @cyn-write @porcelain-animatronic @lowcallyfruity @bestmannequin2018 @h0rr0r-10ver-69

-

It was baffling enough of a request that Leona Kingscholar invited Yuu to his home, but even more so was the thing he asked of them now.

“What? Am I your servant now, too?”

“No, course not.” He seemed deeply offended at this implication, nostrils flaring in indignance while his ears flopped backward against his hair. “I’m…askin’ you.” His ears flipped back up as he took a step closer, awaiting their response.

“Wait. You're serious…?” Yuu asked with a crinkle of their nose.

“Please…?” The word was barely audible, the man’s green-eyed stare never breaking from theirs. “If you’d be so kind…” He smirked, putting on an air, propping a hand on his hip. It was a warm day at the palace and he donned a pair of loose linen pants and a matching cream-colored tank top, all embroidered with gold.

Yuu swayed their head back and forth while they considered the idea, unimpressed by the sudden “princely” act. What was he up to? They gazed down at the object in their hand as if it held the answer. Well, it wasn’t often that they heard that word from Leona Kingscholar. “Fine, okay.” 

Was it really such a big deal, brushing his hair?

–

The hammock below the two of them swayed with both their weights as they sat face to face, each teetering on each edge of the colorful canvas. Late afternoon light filtered through the stained glass over all the greenery of the palace gardens, gilding everything it touched. 

Sighing, Yuu made another move, leaning forward to grab another section of the dark waves from the man’s shoulder. They hadn’t even ended up using the brush much so far. The only thing it had been good for was hitting the man when he talked back. 

“Well, the good news is…I got most of it.”

On their way here, Yuu grabbed their bag, bringing it with them to the gardens. Luckily, they kept a few favorites with them at all times. A small vial of rosehip oil; that would work. It could be used for both skin and hair in a pinch. Removing the dropper from the bottle they dripped some more into their palms, rubbing them together before applying it to the end of the man’s loose curls.

“Stinks.”

Yuu couldn’t help but roll their eyes at him. “It’s just rose. It’s nothing compared to that eye-watering cologne you bathe in every day. They sighed, working it through his thick tresses in the silence, pulling it all through to the ends of each section. “...I shouldn’t really be brushing it when it’s all tangled like this, you know.”

“Tch, I know that,” He said indignantly, his lips pressing into a small pout, eyes downcast to watch them work. “Everyone just assumes my hair is like my brother’s…”

They pressed their lips together. “Hmph. Then do it yourself, next time, huh? ” Letting out a huff, they released the bushel of soft curls, the dark curtain falling over Leona's neck. His hair honestly wasn’t as bad as he had made it seem. It just needed some moisture and careful detangling.

“Naw, why would I…when you’re already doing it for me.” The man reclined forward, propping his elbow on the canvas. “Mmm.” He watched them move on to the next section, meticulously separating the frizz and smoothing it over with the oil. Releasing a small sound in his throat,  he stared up at them with lethargic eyes, seemingly in a trance. 

Yuu shook their head at his comment, knowing that secretly he was just eating up the attention.  Keeping their eyes down on their work, they were careful not to pull too hard on his strands.

Leona muttered something as his lids fell completely closed, the end of his tail tapping on the edge of the hammock by their knee. A steady drumbeat.

They took their time with the rest, with only the noise of a few birds calling and Leona’s occasional sigh or grumble. It wasn’t long before, their lids lulled down too. It was relaxing in a way, quietly detangling someone’s hair.

Every once and a while their eyes flitted to the man’s face, catching the little twitch of the corner of his lips. After Yuu was done the detangling, they pulled two equal parts of the bottom sections forward, trying their best to get them even. They stuck their tongue out while they focused, before braiding them as neatly as they could manage, in the way he normally wore them. 

“There, you look more like yourself...” Yuu shrugged when they were done, tugging on one of the braids, and making sure the man wasn’t actually asleep.  “Better?” They crossed their arms, raising a brow over at him.

“Yeah.” The man opened his eyes slightly, the edge of his mouth falling into a crooked, but satisfied smile. “You did good.” His voice crackled just like the way a warm fire would. Like the bonfires at Savanclaw. He may have been sincere, but everything Leona said was always dipped in just a little bit of patronization.

Yuu palmed him on the forehead, pushing his face away slightly before letting their fingers drift up to his scalp, moving some of the hair out of his face.

“Hm?” He questioned, shifting slightly, turning his head to look up at what they were doing.

“Are you uh- still having those headaches?” They began to work their finger into his crown, between his twitching ears, pressing gently down on a few familiar pressure points. “I have to tell you, I’m the best.”

“I always have a headache when you're around.”  He sat up erect, suddenly seeming full of energy, grabbing their calves and yanking them closer to him, practically into his lap. He kept going until the backs of their legs were hooked over his thighs. He chuckled in delight at their bewildered deer-in-headlights reaction. 

Yuu froze at his boldness, pressing their lips together into a pout as they stared up at him with blinking eyes. 

“Don’t be all shy, now. Prove it. I think I got a big one coming on.” He purred at them.

Still playing, hm? “Hmph.” They huffed out a breath at his shenanigans.

Leona didn’t let them get far though, keeping his hands locked around their ankles, leaning over to study their reaction. “Feel free to say no.” He released them, holding his hands up innocently. “...If you’re not up to the task that is.” A bit of his white fangs gleamed as his sneer widened, leering at them through his dark lashes.

“You-” Yuu stuttered, resigning themselves. They were falling for it. This is what Leona was best at: pushing others into “proving themselves” by gently prodding them from their comfort zone.

“Fine.” Saying nothing more, they only lifted their hands to evaluate him once more, taking in a breath before tracing their fingers down the sides of his muscular neck. 

Ah, the man seemed a bit surprised to see them agree, but he quickly masked it with another smug smile as he lifted his jaw to accommodate them.

Leona’s skin was much warmer than theirs and surprisingly smooth, his excited pulse fluttering under their fingers. “Hm. You are tense.” They muttered aloud, pressing their thumb into one of the hard muscles there. “That hurt?”

“Ack, what do you think? Beast…” He hissed, his ears lowering slightly, grabbing their wrist to stop them.

Yuu smirked, most people didn’t expect that kind of strength from them…until they gave them a chance to prove it. “Sheesh, sorry you big baby. I was just askin’.” They rolled their eyes and swatted his nosy hand away. This allowed them to focus again, laying their palms on both of his broad shoulders. 

They could see it clearly now, his shoulders were rounded forward, and his left side was higher–signaling to them he probably held more tension there.

The man was studying them again, one grumpy eye barely open. 

Yuu chuckled, no one expects how much it hurts. Though as much as they enjoyed hurting the man, they went in softer this time, gently kneading his shoulders and neck, before they bothered to poke him anymore. As they worked closer to his jaw, they became enveloped in his signature smell. Traces of cinnamon, hints of orange, and star anise lingered on their fingertips as they explored his exposed skin, taking care to not pull on the golden necklace that hung from his neck.

“How…did you know?” Leona asked through a groan.

 They had hit the right spot.

“The way you walk, for one. You know, with your head forward. For royalty…your posture is terrible, you know. You heard Vil. Anyways, I can just tell by feeling most of the time.” Yuu added, continuing to work on the tightest areas first.

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” He said through his groans, brown ears flopping to the sides as he began to relax into their skilled touch. “...I recall us both getting reamed by Schoenheit at those practices.”

“Hey, I’m not the one on trial here. You asked for my expert opinion.” They continued, reaching around to the back of the man’s neck to rub circles in the base of his skull, moving up into his thick hair.

Leona made a rumbling noise in his chest at this, letting his head nod forward until he went completely limp in their hands. Somewhere, between the ticks of both their breaths, he had slumped his whole weight on them. A whole lion in their lap.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his forehead against Yuu's shoulder, moving his hand from their calf up onto their arm, running a finger across the loose thread of their sleeve.

Yuu tensed, the man’s warm breath tickling their neck. It felt a little surreal to think such a powerful mage lay against them now like an oversized house cat. It was sort of an honor that he felt so relaxed around them. Sort of. 

They shook their head, trying not to giggle, and straightened their back to accommodate the new weight. Yuu kept on working as if nothing had changed, ignoring the fluttering in their guts that his soft breaths over their cheeks stirred. 

After they finished with his scalp, they worked back down to his shoulders, grabbing both of them and twisting them to one side, signaling wordlessly for the man to turn around for them. The hammock squeaked as he rearranged himself and Yuu pulled his head down into the center of their lap.  

Going by cat behavior, he had shown them his belly, a small sliver peeking from the edge of his tank top. Now, with a completely malleable lion in their lap, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. He was totally at their mercy, moving whichever way they pulled him.

Some people they had worked on, like Jack, could never fully relax for them, no matter how many times they reminded him to. However, the oxymoron of man before them seemed to have no problem flopping over like a sleepy kitten, ready to be petted. 

Their fingers made their way up and down his neck shoulders and even a bit of his chest, respecting the barrier of his tank top.

Every once in a while, Leona’s lips tumbled open with a deep rumbling sigh of relief, pressing himself in their touch with each stroke, seeming to crave more and more. Their face grew hot, and some part of this felt…too intimate. No, no. It was just a massage, but the man’s touch-starved reactions were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

 It was only when Yuu’s fingers reached up to his jaw did Leona open his eyes once more.

As their fingertips settled on the sides of his face, his shoulders went stiff under their care. Yuu could feel Leona’s pulse ramp up for the first time during the massage.  His jaw tightened as they brought their fingers up to the temples of his grimacing face, trying to soothe him. 

He couldn’t be nervous now, could he?

“You…hold a lot of tension in your face too,”  They said calmly, urging his head to the right side, “Especially your…jaw.” They moved down to press their thumb into his cheek, easily finding the small, rigid muscle on the left side of his face.

The man grunted, “Easy.” 

Yuu shook their head again and eased up some. “...Just breathe.” They sighed, rolling their eyes as they massaged his jaw. “That right there is probably a big culprit of your headaches, you know.”

“Hmm,” He replied thoughtfully, his face softening some at their more gentle method. 

Their fingers worked each side of his face some more, then trailed slowly up his nose, rubbing circles across his sinuses. When they made their way up to his “third eye” area they rubbed extra hard to make a point, trying to get him to relax once more. “Sorry, just trying smooth out that permanent wrinkle you got there…”

Leona scoffed, dipping his head back into their touch, and closing his eyes shut again. “Tch, yeah well, every time I come home to visit it ages me five years, so...” He chuckled.

Yuu let out a light chuckle too, taking the strokes they made on the man’s cheeks upward and into his hairline, brushing against his scar a few times.

Leona’s forehead creased, an uncommon expression gracing his usually stern or sarcastic face. His broad nose curled in discomfort and they could see his eyes flicker anxiously under his lids. He was even holding his breath.

“Hey…Just breathe I told you!” They repeated with another soft laugh. “It helps with circulation.”

“Mmph.” The man said nothing and grunted at them before exhaling loudly. They would have thought they were doing something painful to him by his expressions.

Yuu tilted their head, realizing exactly what this was all about. They cupped their palms around his cheeks before dragging the stroke up, one of their fingertips running over the edge of his scar again to test the theory. 

The skin was dryer there and slightly raised. It created extra pull whenever they went over it. But, besides that…it was no different than any other part of his face. The Leona Kingscholar couldn’t be self-conscious, could he? No one ever really commented on it, and it surely did nothing but, to quote Rook: add to his “handsome and rugged charisma.”

But, the more they thought about it, they could understand why he was so dodgy about it. A memory like that, couldn’t have been pleasant.

The more times Yuu went over it they sensed a strange pull of energy from the area, like deep space. They were sure it was something the man had buried deep, so he could convince himself that he didn’t remember what actually happened anymore. 

Can’t remember every little scratch, he said once. How many people knew the real truth, they wondered. Or if there were any legends behind it in the palace.

“You don’t have ta’ touch it.” The man blurted out, trying to keep a straight face. His lips pressed together hard before he feigned a usual smug grin. “Though, I know that you’re a professional and all.”

“Wha-” Yuu almost wanted to roll their eyes at him for how dramatic he was being but, they didn’t. 

 “And- Why…would it bother me?” They asked casually, continuing the face massage as normal.

“Hmph.” Leona let out a huff, one side of his mouth arching upwards into a small smile. “I…see.” When he opened his eyes again, they were shiny, reflecting the tree tops around them. “Not many people have uh-”

 “Feel better?” Yuu lifted their hands from his face as they finished, saving him from the awkwardness of elaborating further. They had seen plenty enough to know how relieved he was at their response. That was enough.

“Mmhm.” He answered, clearing his throat before sitting up to face them again, the whole hammock groaning in response.  “....Thank ya.” He muttered, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Much looser now-”

Leona sighed, eyebrows curving up over his eyes. Then, all at once his gaze snapped up to them, taking them in from head to toe. In one smooth movement, he let his body settle down against theirs, his strong shoulder pressing against them. 

Yuu’s heart hammered against his, mirroring the same fervid beat. No, this was more than just hair brushing. They hadn’t considered the implications until this moment, those of beastmen courtship and personal hygiene that they had read about. The concepts were often interlinked. Sacred.

A hug? No, he was just still just staring at them now, inches away, like a cat ready to pounce. The usual slits of his eyes were dark pools of space, reflecting back their own baffled expression. 

Yuu swallowed. They were so gridlocked by his intense stare, it was hard to speak or even breathe with him pressing them so firmly to the canvas hammock. He seemed at odds with something, his worn gaze downcast. “W-What…what’s wrong, Leona?” They whispered through an unsteady chuckle, managing to keep their head.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” He whispered, letting his weight sink further into them. There was a peaceful smile on his face as he reached up to grab a section of their hair from behind their ear, twisting it between his fingertips, tail flopping behind him lazily.

It felt like they were being chosen for something.

“Wha-” Their eyes widened, it took them a whole 30 seconds to realize the man was braiding the pieces together, calm and methodical, like when he was arranging his pieces on a chess board. Part of the plan. It was obvious Leona knew how to braid hair but it was…surreal to behold it.

When he was done the corner of his mouth turned up more, creasing a dimple into his cheek. His eyes fixated on the sight of his results, he was so…proud of his work.

Yuu didn’t even have time to speak before he turned his head away, lying his cheek on one side of their shoulder once more. He had done it so casually as if he had done it a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.

They understand why he did it, the two of them were…a matching set now.

He chose them. Their heart squeezed as the man draped his arms around their waist, locking them in place once more as something shifted between them.

 Leona’s cocky air had all but dissipated. “...Is this okay with ya?” He muttered so softly they almost missed it. He was asking permission, asking if they would accept him.

“Oh um…Y-yes.” They let their arms fall around his back, tugging on the end of his curls as they held him. Yes, he was getting way too comfortable, but it was their fault for allowing it, right? Yuu laid their head on his, letting him know for sure that: yes, it was okay.

“Hey, I know you're not falling asleep right now.” They grumbled playfully, tugging on his hair and furrowing their brow. Meanwhile, they curled their legs around his torso like a koala as he held them tight, making sure there was no space between them.

They knew it was all a lost cause. He had set the board how he wanted. He would not let them go again, and they didn’t want him to.

“Shh,” Leona mumbled into their shirt, inhaling deeply. “ You’ve been real workin’ lately hard, right? Rest wit’ me.”

“But I-” Yuu yawned, their eyes watering some as they did. The action had forced their eyes shut. The breeze also was not helping, rocking them both gently inside the hammock.  “Fine. But just for a little while.” They breathed out, their own shoulders finally relaxing. Yuu’s head slumped over to gently bob against Leona’s. 

“You win…this time.”

The man only chuckled at their admission of defeat, a warm note buzzing against their chest. 

The last thing they saw was the colored glass of the greenhouse, filtering in pink light through the serrated leaves of the palm trees.

Leona’s sighs of contentment traveled through their body, as his warm fingers kneaded into their back. 

--

#another Leona x Yuu fic was requested on ao3 #twst #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst leona #tamashina mina #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #bunnwich writes📝

[nabitsun]

MEDDLE ABOUT

ellie williams x fem reader

᭝ synopsis : you need something to ring some senses to you. a good argument and some good head.

᭝ tags : angst + smut: argument !! just ellie & her inability to be diligent when she opens her mouth & reader taking questionable decisions. drug consumption .

( @ ) is referred as y/n (used only twice).

᭝ wc : 4.1 k

᭝ notes : it literally unfolded in a sequence shot in my head and i couldn't get rid of it the more i was writing so yeah. dropping this rq :c

"come here," she taps her hand lazily on the soft cushion beside her, on her right.

she's got her elbows resting on both of her knees as she's leaning over the coffee table in front of her, paper wrap flat on the surface of the table with the filter already positioned.

"what are you doing?"

"what does it look like i'm doing?" she doesn't even spare a glance your way, too concentrated on filling the paper with cannabis diligently, the product pinched between her thumb and index.

"i told you i don't like it when you smoke while i'm here."

"and i don't like it when you go on dates with random fuckers but i'm sure it doesn't stop you from keeping up the act."

you cross your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to talk back though she's got a point that you obviously can't contradict. you don't really feel like sitting down so you would get shit thrown at your face when you've come here for the exact opposite.

"c'mon it's just weed ma," she finally looks at you, "besides i started before you even called me." she shakes her head in disapproval. her voice is faint but sore, the smell in her living room is not the only thing telling you this is surely not her first joint.

you let out a long breath as you finally decides to sit down, your arms still crossed when slouch down and bring your feet up on the couch, "you either fall asleep mid convo or get handsy when you're high." you sigh.

"hm, not my fault you always come at night." she half whispers, mindlessly.

you glance at the clock hanged up on the wall behind you, it's almost eleven. you turn to face her back, bringing your elbows up on the back of the couch and resting your jaw in your palm as you look at her shimmy the joint between her fingers until it gets a cylindrical shape. you figure she went out, still dressed in her open denim shirt, leaving plenty of room to contemplate her tattoo.

"so what's up?"

you open your mouth but only air comes out of it, "i don't know,"

"you do know, you wouldn't have come here otherwise."

"are you saying i only come over to complain?" you redress your head to sit better. she doesn't look at you anyways.

"i didn't say that. i'm glad you can connect the dots though." she glides her tongue along the paper wrap meticulously and all with the same care, folds the sticky side over creating a cone that she taps vertically on the surface of the table. a routine you've also picked up just by observation.

"i went out tonight."

she stays silent, though you see her movements come to a halt when the joint stays still, you see her head raising lightly, until it drops down the same way it was originally, low with her eyes on her crafting session.

"and,"

your resting hand which was once on your jaw finds its way behind your neck, massaging your nape as you start to regret even bringing up the subject. you don't have to say it out loud, she knows you've been on a date.

"and it was just awful."

"when is it not."

she twists the end of the joint before searching blindly for a lighter on the table, that she fails to find apparently as she gets a little more frustrated, cussing under her breath. you look around yourself to find the green lighter on the couch, behind her and so naturally in front of you. you pick it up and light it on, she turns around instinctively at the sound of the friction and looks at you with low eyelids, supposedly tired or already half stoned from her previous consumption.

it's the first time of the evening she fully looks at you, however she doesn't dwell on the moment and immediately takes the joint between her lips as she cups your hand to guide the flame towards the twisted end. she's too focused on the new spark igniting the paper to notice you focused on her face, tracing every lines with your eyes, and her hair half way up in a bun at the back of her head.

"what happened," she asks, though without any will to know in her voice. she turns around to turn her back to you as she previously was sat, getting rid of the ash in the ashtray on the table.

you shrug, not knowing where to begin though there's not much to say due to how short your evening had turned out to be.

"um, he invited me over, to his place–" you notice her nodding sarcastically as she takes her first inhale, "we had some drinks and talked, it was fine at first." you flip the lighter in your hands like a toy, distracting yourself with it. ellie doesn't answer, waiting for you to continue the anticipated story,

"then he started to act really creepy, kept staring at me, filling the glass with alcohol though i told him i've had enough. he tried to move things forward, getting me to his bedroom but.. i told him i had something that came up and had to go, you know."

she scratches the back of her ear swiftly before turning to her right slowly to face you, the smoke escapes past her lips which soon grows in ponds of small clouds, then dissipates thickly into the air.

"he told me he could drive me home, and insisted about three times at least, he didn't even want to open the door." you bring your knees even closer to your chest and rest your hand on your bare thighs, reminiscing the past events that occurred earlier.

she brings the joint back to her lips, locked between her index and thumb and drags another puff in silence. her brows are furrowed, as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek.

"did he touch you?"

maybe the few extra seconds you take to answer aren't welcomed because she turns around to face you entirely,

"that's a yes or no question ( @ ), did he?" her voice is so calm it contrasts too well with her cold stare, you don't know if it's truly out of annoyance but it makes you gulp down as you shift in place.

"he just grabbed me but i think he was just scared, i don't know. he was gentle though–"

"do you think i give a fuck if he was gentle?" she puts a hand on her knee and now you're certain she's got all your attention, she doesn't let anything pass her by.

"ellie, he didn't want to harm me or anything, i guess he's never done this kinda stuff before, he was awkward with it."

she laughs crudely, the sour noise resonates in her living room, "sure he was, i can assure you that your belief in the good man certainly stems more from your naivety than from any hidden philanthropy."

it's your turn to frown and redress yourself completely this time, letting loose of your legs as one hangs over the couch "what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"whatever, forget it." she shakes her head and exhales a long breath, tapping the joint over the ashtray one more time – though you doubt it was needed.

"no, tell me."

"i'm saying.. you've got a lot of trust in random men for someone who's done this i don't know how many times. you should know better, they don't want you any good."

"how can you be so pessimistic,"

"i'm realistic and you're trying to turn a blind eye for whatever fuckin' reason." she raises her brows, eyes low as she stares at the floor.

"why are you getting so worked up over that anyways?

she looks at you as if you've said the stupidest thing ever, she soon retracts at the end of the couch just the opposite from you as her back rests against the armrest.

"it's pissing me the fuck off to see you like that. you always do this." she breathes out, "always choosing the worst people on this planet to have a date with, makes me think you have a death wish or somethin'"

"looks like you'd know better, want you to choose for me?" you crack a smile faintly.

"i'm not playing this game ( @ ), the point is you need to stop this. stop going out with randoms you've known for less than two hours."

"i don't see why it's such a problem for you,"

"it becomes my problem the moment you open your mouth, you're fooling yourself if you think i'm not gonna do anything about it."

"i don't ask you to do anything. actually i don't want you to do anything about it, ellie."

"then why do you always talk to me about this kind of stuff? you always come here to complain about shits you obviously can't take care of so yeah, maybe i do have to step up."

your chest tightens at her words, as well as your eyes start to water automatically, one thing you didn't want to happen. you blink the imminent tears away.

"but i don't want you to take care of it? i'm only talking, can't we just talk?"

she shakes her head once again, "i don't see the point of talking over and over about the same things when you're very much aware of my point of view. what else do you want me to say."

"maybe don't say anything at all if it's to talk to me this way. acting like my fucking dad." you look away to stare at the living room, her guitar hanging on a wall. it reminds you of the times you two used to play and how enraged she would become learning songs. you chase the memory away.

"hey, i'm not acting like that, pretty. i'm acting like your friend. and i can't stay silent, you'd start thinking i'm giving you the green light." she balances her foot over to nudge yours, making the corner of your lips twitch lightly at the foolish contact.

"you think i need your permission?"

"i wish you would take it in account at least," she twirls the joint interlaced in her fingers, getting a better view of it apparently as she looks at it, "y'know, you either don't realize it or you refuse to see it, i don't know what's worse."

"i could say the same for smoking you know."

"what about it?"

"it messes you up and it messes me up."

she raises her brows with a chuckle, "what, weed? mh, no. don't worry about it. you don't need me to fuck yourself up, i trust you with that." she scoffs sourly.

"i'm serious, ellie."

"i'm sure you are, it's always when you're serious that you say the craziest things."

you stare at her intently but she refuses to meet your gaze, you're sick of today.

"fuck you, i'm leaving." you stand up on your feet and take your purse in your hands, too quick for ellie as she's only turning her head your way, "have fun burning out what's left of your brain cells."

"hey what—, come back here!"

you're soon out of the front door with your car keys in hands, fidgeting to find the right one to open the car doors. you didn't check the hour as you left the room but it certainly is past eleven and you'd prefer driving in the night than stay in ellie's presence tonight.

you open the door to the driver's seat and step in, throwing your bag on the side, closing the door. you don't start the engine just now, you inhale and exhale deeply, putting both of your hands on the steering wheel as your head lowers on it too, your forehead resting on the hard fabric.

you insert your keys to start the car, ready to get going but rather unexpectedly the passengers seat's door opens up abruptly, making you jump in place. you notice the tattooed arm immediately as it reaches over first to grab your purse and throw in in the backseats. the car shakes lightly as she enters and finally sits on your right, beside you.

"get out ellie, i'm going home."

"no i want you to talk to me." she throws her left arm behind her own headrest to look at you better, you stay focused on the road, or rather the infinite void that the darkness offers you.

"i'm done talking."

"be pissed off all you want, fuck if i care you're staying right here."

you reach over her seat to open her door for her, as she doesn't intent on leaving by herself anytime soon, but she's quick to close it immediately, cancelling your action. you narrow her eyes at her and stick your back to your own seat once again, crossing your arms as you also refuse to move.

"alright, stop the car," she's still looking at you, not assertively though, there's a lot more tenderness to her eyes this time, same with her voice.

"please. i'm sorry for what i said, i'll listen to you but you gotta be honest with me. okay?"

you turn off the engine. you hear her sigh, you don't want to look at her. the faint yellow lamp above the both of you is lighting up the whole car, or at least failing to do so as it is more or so almost as somber outside.

"hey, look at me, right here."

you roll your eyes but comply anyways, you turn your head.

"look i don't wanna fight with you, you know that right? i just, i'm really. really fuckin' sick of seeing you all hurt like that every time. i don't want anybody to hurt you, you understand? knowing you go out every week just to meet some pricks is just, making me.." she shakes her head, failing to get out the word out, she only grunts in frustration, "i wanna know something though."

you look at her silently, though you've acknowledged every each one of her words.

"what?" you say, just above a whisper.

"why are you doing this?"

however before you can even consider an answer she continues,

"and don't give me the usual crap, i want the truth. be sincere with me."

the tension in your shoulders ease up, though paradoxically you've grown even more tensed with her question. you uncross your arms and let your elbow rest on your door near the window to support your head. you secretly hope she's gonna drop it one minute from another, as the seconds passes you think – not of an excuse but of words – but she only sits there, looking at anything and everything peacefully.

"i've got the whole night, hope your car's comfortable." she presses her back against where it should be, staring in front of her.

you take a big breath, "i want.. i guess i just hope that, if i keep doing this.." you fingers play with the fabric of your dress, "if i do this maybe you'll snap out of it."

she glares at you for a few seconds, "snap out of what?"

"of this thing keeping you close enough to be my friend but far enough to .." you sigh, "to be something else."

you refuse to look at her, your face is boiling though it's hard to know if it's out of embarrassment, crippling sadness or annoyance.

"i've got another question," she faintly says, "why do you think i care that much about you going out?"

she looks at her hands, rubbing some scars away as if it would make them disappear, you shrug.

"c'mon don't make me say it, i know you can be a smart girl when you want to." she scoffs with a smile, and you notice how the both of you are in awkward positions, just some centimeters away from one another but incapable of facing each other.

"you don't have to say it," you murmur, letting a smile spread along your lips the same way, "i'll blame you getting handsy on the weed," you look at her and watch the light bulb lightning up her face when she gets the hint. she shifts in place, getting more comfortable as she tilts her head on the side with a smug smile.

"i'm sure you will." she whispers, her eyes shifts from your eyes to your lips, she blinks a few times before shaking her head softly, a light tug on her lips. you frown at her reaction,

"what?"

"can't believe those fuckers got to touch you before i did."

you part your lips to answer but your heaving breath gets caught in your throat, the same way that it gets suddenly dry, apprehending her next movements, her touch. you see her fingers tightening on her own seat, your face is getting closer to hers without you putting to much effort in it, like you're just pulled in like a magnet.

"c'mere, pretty." she mutters right before taking your face in her hands.

her lips find yours as her hands grab both sides of your face, lingering on your jaw to pull you closer to her. the kiss is long, languid and you have to put every effort to not make a sound. you feel her exhale through her nose, relieving the built up tension from prior your presume as her kisses grow more rapid and intense each seconds. your hands find her shirt, tugging on it in hope to get her to be closer – mind you, you're already glued to her.

"i hate it when you smoke." you whine, breaking off the kiss just to initiate another one not a second after. she slips her hand on your nape, her thumb brushing against your neck as her mouth travels down your jaw.

"yeah? show me better ´cause i don't think you're hating the right way right now."

she leaves wet patches on your neck, lapping the sensitive skin as you fight back noises that only comes out muffled. her other hand slides down your waist to try and pull you closer despite the obvious console box blocking the way.

"ok fuck that. backseat, now." she rushes out of breath and you don't wait a second more as you pull your body up to the center of the car and crawl the best your can to the back of the car. she follows you immediately and you both regain your previous positions, you on the left and her on the right.

she easily slides her hand on your thigh as she's back on your mouth, lifting your sundress on the way and you automatically part your legs apart lightly.

"next time use your words, i promise you it's a lot more effective, ok?" she looks at you, eyelids heavy and chest rising up and down rapidly, "don't put you through things like that ever again, for anybody."

you stare at her for some seconds before nodding, as you put your lips on hers once again, starving for the feeling. you bring her closer by pulling at her shirt underneath and she cages herself right in between your legs, supporting her body with her hand on the seats. you lean back against the window under the weight, and you feel her fingers going up until they reach the sides of your panties, her fingers are digging in the skin of your hips.

"you're gonna let me make you feel good? i wanna take care of you." she breathes out right against your lips, leaving a few pecks in between.

"yeah, yes p-please," you whine, getting impatient.

she lowers her head and pulls back from you completely, resting her butt on her ankles to admire you, "good, i'm gonna treat you the way you deserve it, alright?" she lifts your dress up, letting you panties to appear visible and slides her hand up and down your clothed entrance, making your legs jolt slightly from the contact as you exhale sharply through your nose.

she leans in again to kiss your neck, then moves down your collarbones and traces along the lines of them. you slouch back down until your head rests flat against the seats as she puts your panties to the side, you grab onto her shoulders the best you can when she begins to glide her fingers up and down along your wet entrance. you moan softly at the touch and you push your legs farther against your chest to give her better access.

she rests on her other hand as she looks at the way your slick coats her fingers with the same repetitive movements, bringing them up to your clit and circling it painfully slow, making your back arch as you seek for the contact. your mouth opens silently as you grab her forearm, digging your fingers in her flesh. her middle finger finds your entrance and she pushes it all the way in gently, curling it when it reaches her knuckle and pushes it all the way out, pumping her finger in and out of you nonchalantly.

"'s good, so fuckin' good." you whimper silently, trying to block your voice away.

she brings her eyes on you with a smirk, "yeah? let me hear you," she pulls away from you once again to get a better view as she watches her finger disappear past your folds, "let me hear how good i make you feel."

you feel another finger pushing against your hole and you know she's doing it on purpose just so you could grant her wish, which you miserably success to accomplish as you throw. your head back with a moan. she's two fingers deep inside of you and speeds up as she sees the way your body moves around like a worm, contorting all over the place.

"that's my girl," she mumbles more to herself, though you hear it, making your walls clench around her fingers.

"ffuck, i'm getting— i'm gettin' c-close," you bring your legs back against your chest for better access as you feel heat spreading all over your lower abdomen, tightening into a tight knot. however if you thought she'd give you what you want immediately that would have been way too candide of you, to imagine she would willingly let you come in less than ten minutes ; to your dismay she slows the pace down until she pulls back entirely, leaving you empty.

"keep your hands right there." she nods, where they sit on the back of your thighs to keep them spread apart.

you can't even protest as she crouches down, chest touching the seats and back arching when she grabs your thighs, bringing you closer to her mouth. she once again pushes your panties to the side and wastes no time in lapping your cunt vigorously, the fat of her tongue pressing flatly against your entrance, all the way up to your clit just like she did with her fingers previously.

your hand finds her head, you push back the few strands of hair falling out messily – though you doubt she even cares –, she flicks your clit with the wet tip of her tongue, right to the left, left to the right, sucking on it and you let out a choked sob at the sensation. she pushes her tongue all the way down to your entrance until she practically fucks you with it, bringing her free hand to swirl her finger around your clit, making you cry out from pleasure.

"fuck—fuck ellie !"

she keeps up with the quick pace until your belly tightens for the second time, you arch your back as your muscles flex from the tension when you come right on her tongue, she continues to stimulate your inside as her hand caresses your thigh.

"there you go. handled it like a g, huh?" she smiles at you. too fucked out to speak though you bring your hands to your face, wiping the remains of tears, away from the corner of your eyes as you breathe deeply to get back down.

"had a long day right?" she kisses your inner thigh, backing up as she fixes your panties and your dress. you only hum in response when she pulls you up with a hand behind your head.

"stay over tonight. i'll carry you back home." she presses a chaste kiss on your forehead.

©nabitsun !

#divider by anitalenia #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou oneshot #ellie oneshot #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #tlou smut #tlou ellie

[satellite-evans]

Caught in the Act

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Benedict and his wife, his muse, are interrupted by his mischievous sister Eloise during a private painting session.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff, Eloise being a tease

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The Bridgerton residence was always buzzing with activity. Whether it was the younger siblings running through the halls or the older siblings preparing for yet another social event, there was never a dull moment. Amidst this lively chaos, Benedict Bridgerton found his moments of peace and creativity in his art studio, tucked away in a quiet corner of the estate.

It was in this sanctuary that he often invited you, his beloved wife and muse, to pose for him. Today was no different. The soft afternoon light filtered through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room. Benedict stood at his easel, his eyes intensely focused on the canvas before him. You reclined on a chaise lounge, draped in a delicate, nearly translucent gown that accentuated your natural grace and beauty.

"Benedict," you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety, "are you sure it's not too risky to do this here? Anyone could walk in."

He looked up from his work, his gaze tender as he regarded you. "We’ve done this before without any issues. Besides, the light in here is perfect, and you look absolutely stunning. Trust me, my love, everything will be fine."

You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Alright, but if we get caught, I'm blaming you."

He chuckled, a deep, soothing sound that always managed to calm your nerves. "Fair enough."

The room settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the soft swishing of Benedict's brush and the occasional rustle of your gown. You admired the way his brow furrowed in concentration, his hand moving with practiced ease. It was in these quiet moments that you felt closest to him, sharing a connection that went beyond words.

ust as he was about to add the finishing touches, the door to the studio burst open. Eloise Bridgerton, ever the inquisitive and outspoken sibling, strode in without a second thought.

"Benedict, have you seen—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her. "Oh."

Benedict froze, his brush hovering in mid-air. You quickly pulled the shawl you had draped over your shoulders tighter, your cheeks flushing with mortification as you realized just how exposed you were.

"Eloise!" Benedict exclaimed, clearly flustered. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Eloise's shock quickly gave way to a mischievous grin. "I didn't realize I needed to knock in my own home. But now I see why I should."

You buried your face in your hands, feeling utterly mortified. Benedict, on the other hand, looked equally embarrassed. He set his brush down and moved to stand protectively in front of you.

"Eloise, what do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I was looking for a book," she said, still grinning. "But I suppose it can wait."

Benedict sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, it can. Now, if you don't mind—"

"Oh, don't worry," Eloise interrupted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to your... art."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click. You and Benedict stared at each other for a moment before you buried your face in your hands again.

"I can't believe that just happened," you groaned, your voice muffled.

Benedict gently pulled your hands away from your face, his eyes filled with concern. "I'm so sorry, my love. I should have been more careful."

"You think?" you replied, half-joking, half-serious. "I am never posing in this house again. That was mortifying."

Benedict hugged you tightly, his arms offering comfort. "I promise, next time we'll find somewhere more private. But you have to admit, it does make for a memorable story."

You couldn't help but laugh despite yourself. "I suppose so."

Later that evening, the Bridgerton family gathered for an informal dinner. The aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of cheerful conversation and laughter. You sat beside Benedict, your hand resting comfortably on his under the table.

Eloise, ever the mischief-maker, caught your eye and winked. You felt a blush creep up your neck as you recalled the earlier incident. Benedict squeezed your hand reassuringly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin.

"So, Benedict," Eloise began, her voice dripping with innocent curiosity, "how's your latest painting coming along?"

Benedict shot her a warning glance, but she merely raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment. "It's coming along quite well, thank you," he replied evenly.

"Oh, I'm sure it's wonderful," Daphne chimed in, not noticing the undercurrent of the conversation. "Your work is always so impressive."

"Indeed," Anthony added, his tone more serious. "You've truly found your calling, brother."

Violet Bridgerton, ever the attentive matriarch, picked up on the tension. "Benedict, dear, you should show us your latest work soon."

Eloise leaned forward, her tone light and playful. "I suppose it's easier to be passionate when you have such a... captivating subject. Isn't that right, sister?"

You nearly choked on your wine, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I—um, well..."

Benedict shot Eloise a warning look. "That's enough, Eloise."

Eloise just smiled sweetly. "I'm only saying, you must find it very inspiring."

Violet's eyes twinkled with understanding. "Eloise, that is quite enough. Perhaps you should leave your brother and his wife in peace."

Colin, always quick to join in the fun, leaned back in his chair. "I'd love to see the painting. It must be quite the masterpiece if it has caused such a stir."

yacinth, always eager to be part of any conversation, piped up. "Can we see it, Benedict? Please?"

Gregory, not to be outdone by his younger sister, added, "Yes, show us! We promise to be quiet and not interrupt next time."

You buried your face in your hands again, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Oh my goodness," you murmured, mortified.

You truly never felt so embarrassed in your entire life.

The conversation shifted to other topics, and the rest of the family seemed unaware of the underlying tension. You couldn't help but steal glances at Benedict, admiring his composure. Despite the earlier embarrassment, you felt a deep sense of pride in being a part of his world.

After dinner, as the family dispersed, Benedict took your hand and led you outside to the garden. The night air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. He guided you to a secluded bench, where you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry about Eloise earlier," he said quietly, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, smiling. "It's alright, Benedict. It was bound to happen sooner or later."

He chuckled softly. "True. Still, I wish we could have more moments just for us."

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "We will. And until then, I'll cherish every second we have together, even the interrupted ones."

Benedict turned to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. "You are my muse, my love. And I am forever grateful for you."

The moonlight cast a silvery glow over the garden, creating a perfect backdrop for the tender moment you shared. Wrapped in each other's arms, you felt an unspoken promise pass between you—a promise of love, support, and a future filled with countless more beautiful moments, whether they were stolen in secret or shared with the world.

#benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton x you #fluff #bridgerton season 3

[webshooterrr9]

dbf!miguel staying over

i mean....... i had to eventually...

w.c: 2.6k

content warning: alcohol usage, age gap (reader is 21, Miguel is 35), smut, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight dom/sub dynamic but not really because mig is such a sweetie and reader is sassy af, teasing because mig is secretly a meanie :(, not really tho he wants it just as much as her, big scary men whimpering!!!

sorry for y'all who don't speak spanish cuz i didn't feel like adding translations because it messed up the look but dw most of it is in english

Miguel and your father have been friends since college.

When your dad needed help with homework, Miguel was there. When your dad needed someone to pass to during the game, Miguel was there. When your dad mourned the loss of your mom, taken from the world too soon, Miguel was there. There were countless nights where Miguel would tutor your dad on subjects he struggled with after missing classes to take care of you: the angel he was gifted with in high school. Although he admits you came into his life a bit too early for comfort, he has always loved and prioritized you. And Miguel quickly became your dad’s best friend because, although he never met you, he could tell just how much your father cared about you.

And so he was always there for your dad. All through college and beyond.

It wasn’t until you started college that Miguel had the pleasure of meeting you. Your dad had planned a hangout with the three of you, telling you about how important it is to have a good friend on your side, how it helped him when times got tough.

And now you’re 21 - sitting on your childhood bed after coming home from college for the summer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Miguel since you’ve been home. When you met him three years ago, you were somewhat intimidated by him. How could you not? Look at the sheer size of that man. But you came to know through your school breaks that he was a lot more laid-back than you previously thought. You hate to admit it, but you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It’s stupid, you know, but how could you possibly resist those deep brown eyes and that smooth baritone voice that pulls you in every time?

Knock knock “Chiquita?”

You recognized that silky tone. It was Miguel.

“Yeah?” you say, putting your phone to the side. “Come in.” The doorknob twists and your door slowly creeps open. Behind it was that beautiful man: soft brown curls, slightly hidden by a backwards cap, a strong nose, dusty jeans that hug his legs just right, and a plain white tee with a gold cross dangling from a chain around his neck. Your dad’s best friend. Miguel.

He steps into your room and lingers by the door, a lazy smile across his face.  Dios… he was something else.

“¿Qué estás haciendo, mami? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

You sit up straighter, trying not to look as lousy as you feel. He came in here looking like a goddamn Roman god and you’re just sitting in your pjs. “Just scrolling,” you reply. “Trying to enjoy my time without homework.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Your papi invited me over,” he says, stepping further into the room. “Just to catch up and share a few Modelos.”

You watch his arms cross over his chest, the sleeves of his tee tightening around his huge arms. “Doesn’t explain why you’re in here,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be out back with him, then?”

“What, ¿no puedo saludar a la hija de mi amigo?" he laughs. “That’s not fair.” he adds with a fake pout that makes you giggle.

“I didn’t say that,” you smile. He walks over and sits on the edge of your bed. You notice his watch gleam in the sunlight filtering through your windows. “Did you come here from work? Your shirt is dirty as hell.”

“You know how it is, beba. Being a blue collar worker is a tough job.”

You snort. “Please, being a mechanic is hardly blue collar work. You stay inside a garage all day.”

“My customers would beg to differ,” Miguel says. “You should see how many señoras come into my garage looking for a replacement for their shitty husbands.”

“Makes me feel like they’re tryna put a ring on it.” he wiggles his calloused fingers in front of you for added effect.

“Well, it makes sense,” you say. “You’re about their age anyway.”

“Oye!” he laughs. “I’m thirty-five, thank you very much. Not even close to their age.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, viejo.”

The sun had set an hour ago and he hadn’t gone home yet.

Despite the amount of times Miguel offered to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, your father insisted he stay for “ten more minutes” and handed him another beer each time. The sound of the two men laughing from the living room kept you awake. It normally wouldn’t bother you, since you’re a night owl anyway, but you have plans with your friend tomorrow that you have to wake up early for.

You exit the comfort of your bedroom and head into the living room where you find Miguel and your dad chatting loudly on the couch. Miguel’s arm is draped over the back of the sofa, which accentuates his already defined chest - not to mention the dim lamp light casting beautiful shadows on his face.

“Ah, mija, there you are!” your father exclaims, very drunkenly. “I was wondering where you were. No te he visto en todo el día!”

“Lo siento, papi.” You reply, leaning against the wall. Miguel’s stare feels hot on your skin. You can see him through your peripheral vision, looking as handsome as ever.

“Es tarde en la noche, chiquita.” Miguel says, his words coming out slower due to all the Modelo in his system. “Why are you still up?”

“That’s exactly why I came in here; to tell you two to shut up.”

“¡Oye! Watch your mouth, mija.” your dad says sternly, while Miguel just chuckles.

“Sorry, pequeña,” Miguel says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “We’ll keep it down. But don’t swear at your padre, yeah? Respect your elders.”

“Uh huh.” you shrug, waving the two men goodbye as you retire to your bedroom. You were sure that Miguel would still be there when you woke up in the morning, but hopefully he’ll be passed out by then and not still chatting with your dad.

----

You fall asleep almost immediately. The newly-installed fan in your room helped rid the summer heat and cool your bedroom to a comfortable temperature, while still allowing you to snuggle up under the blankets. A band tee and plain panties is all you wore, which was normal for you unless you were staying at a friend's house - at which point you’d obviously throw on some shorts. The moon shining through your windows acts as a sort of night-light, and you’re soothed to sleep by the crickets outside and the less-deafening sound of chatter from your living room.

Your alarm wakes you up around 8am, which is earlier than you normally start your day. As you go to turn off the noise, you hear a tired groan come from behind you. “Mmph… turn that off.”

You flinch and turn around, covering yourself with your blankets at the stranger in your bed. But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Miguel.

“Miguel!” you whisper-shout, nudging his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

He huffs and pushes his face into your pillow, and this is your first chance to get a good look at him. He’s shirtless, of course, but his muscular frame isn’t what draws you to him. His hair is tousled from sleep in a way you haven’t seen before, a grumpy pout peeking out from the pillow he’s buried his face in. He still has his gold chain around his neck, but he seems to have discarded his hat and jeans - which you see laying on your floor. You knew this man was gorgeous… but this was the most stunning you’ve ever seen him. The morning light only makes it better.

“Tu papá durmió en el sofá,” he mumbled, the sleepiness of his voice making him sound more attractive than ever. “And his room was too hot to sleep in.”

“That doesn’t explain why you decided to crawl into my bed unannounced.” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, and one of his arms slides under his pillow to prop himself up. “Cálmate, princesa. You had tons of room and it was cool in here.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

You sit up and brush the hair out of your face, trying to wake yourself up so that you can get ready. Miguel sleepily snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you back down. Your head flops on the pillow and messes up your hair once again.

“Quédate, mami. Sleep with me.” he mumbles, closing his eyes once more.

“E-Excuse me!?” Oh you were definitely blushing now. No way he just said that! You knew that he didn’t actually mean it like that… but you also knew that he wasn’t dumb. Whether his intentions were pure or not, you knew that he worded it that way on purpose. Was your silly little crush reciprocated?

He hugs you closer to him, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The cold metal of his necklace makes you shiver, especially in contrast with how hot his body is. Temperature, you mean.

“You heard me.” he doubles down.

“Do you even-”

“I know what I said, chiquita.” Miguel opens his eyes now - the lazy drawl of his voice becoming more awake and purposeful. His gaze on you is unbearable. You could feel the intensity of his stare. “And I know what I meant.”

You stare at him in silence. How could you speak? The man who you’ve had a crush on since you started college was in your bed, half naked, making a move on you. Part of you thinks that he’s waited long enough to finally do this, but another part of you feels some sort of guilt. He’s over a decade older than you, and a family friend no less. You can see through his eyes that he feels similarly, but his passion is overpowering any sense of guilt. Besides, you’re both adults. How bad could it be?

He leans over you, pinning you down onto your own mattress. A position that’s typically domineering, and yet, you can see his gaze soften uncharacteristically for him. He brushes a strand of loose hair away from your face.

“Que linda…” he mumbles, eyes trailing all over your face. “Eres tan hermosa.”

Miguel leans his face closer to yours, his gold cross dangling from his neck and touching yours. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You’re stunned but also… excited?

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“Quiero sentirte.” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. You hear his breath catch in his throat. “Tócame. Hazme el amor.”

He chuckles, a flirty pout crossing his face. “Oh, pobrecita…” he grins, tracing your jawline with his dexterous fingers. Your face tilts up closer to his, your lips brushing as he speaks. “You know I can’t do that.”

...

What?

“Why not?” he can visibly hear the disappointment in your voice. It almost makes him feel bad, especially with how beautiful you look in the morning light.

“Don’t wanna wake your papi, nena.” he caresses your face once more, leaning back a little so he can look at your face properly. “I can’t make you scream while everyone else is asleep. We have to keep this a secret. But where’s the fun in sex if I can’t hear your pretty whines, hm?”

You smack his chest. “Oh fuck off, Mig. Come here.”

Before he can respond, you grab him by his necklace and drag him down to your lips. The moment your mouths connect, it’s like fireworks going off in his head. He swears you taste better than any bizcocho he’s ever had. Miguel holds your waist as you tangle your hands through his hair, and he lets out a soft groan. His hips involuntarily rut against your thigh, and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

His hand dips between the two of you to tug your panties down, freeing your skin to his touch. His thumb lazily circles your clit, while the other calloused hand is still resting on your hips. He feels like he’s in heaven, feeling you squirm underneath him, but he knows this is only the start of the fun you’ll have together. He swallows every sound you make with his lips on yours, his tongue fighting with yours for control. He pulls his hands back once he’s sure that you’re wet and ready. You two are gasping for air by the time your lips part, and his deep eyes look into yours with a silent plea. You nod your head desperately.

Miguel makes quick work of removing what little clothes he had left on his lower body before sinking into your warmth, slowly but surely. You gasp.

He leans his forehead against yours, savoring the moment of stillness. It’s like you two are in your own little bubble - no one else can interfere. He kisses you lovingly as he starts to move, silencing any moans or sighs you might have that others could hear. You’re just for him, no one else can experience you. His thrusts are slow, but agonizingly deep. You feel it deep in your core, kissing your cervix with every push of his hips forward.

“God…” he whines. “You feel so fucking good. So good for me, baby.” You arch against him, your hands dragging along his back for support. He glances down at where your two bodies connect, and the sight almost makes him pass out. “Que cosita más linda, mami.” he whispers.

“Damelo… please..” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut with all the pleasure you feel.

“I am, nena, I am. It’s all for you, princesa. I promise.”

His pace speeds up a little more, but he’s still pushing into you just as deep, “Show me you love it, baby. Mírame.”

You meet his gaze with glassy eyes, breathing heavily and nails digging into his back. You wrap your legs around his slim waist and he throws his head back at the tighter feel. “That’s it, baby. Así así…”

He’s rutting into you wildly, chasing his high. You look down to watch as his dick disappears into your cunt. The wet sounds of his hips smacking yours clouds your mind. Each roll of his hips brings you closer to the edge. “You’re so pretty, muñeca. So so pretty f’me.”

His large hands sneak under your t-shirt and grope your tits, squeezing and caressing in a way that makes you hazy. “Want you to look at me while I fill you up. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nod your head frantically, scratching the skin of his shoulders. You’ve never wanted anything more. The two of you are getting dangerously close to climax, and you swear you can hear him whimper.

“God, baby, feels so fucking good. No puedo más, no puedo más…!”

A squeal escapes you as he spills into your heat, with your own crescendo arriving shortly after. There’s a creamy white ring around his base as he starts to slow the roll of his hips. Miguel eventually stills and collapses, hugging you close in the same sort of cuddle as before, but still resting inside you.

After the exhaustion wears off, you pull back to stare into his eyes. A hand comes up to cup his face, rubbing his flushed cheek gently. “That was fucking amazing, Mig. I haven’t felt that good in so long.”

He laughs softly, returning your affectionate gaze. “Do you think your papi heard us?”

“Definitely not.” you giggle. “He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“That’s good.” Miguel holds you for a few more minutes, just silently staring at you. You can’t even imagine how blissed out you must look right now, but it’s all so gorgeous to him. “Eres increíble, mi vida.”

You hum in delight, stroking his cheeks once more. “You too, mi cielo.”

... you're gonna have to cancel your plans for today.

sort of switched to Miguel's pov in the last section cuz i wanted to experiment :))))

i hope you guys liked it!! dbf!miguel inspiration from @mybvalentine

and yes... he's a mechanic. it just suits him ok??

----

webshooterrr9

#webshooterrr9 #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #fanfic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara x you #atsv miguel #i wrote this with one hand #dbf!miguel #owns my heart #mechanic!miguel

[dee-writes-smut]

DICENTRAS (Chapter Five)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Lucien shows up to the Autumn Court and secrets are soon revealed.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, arguing, leaving, grief (over someone who is still alive), minor injuries, and Eris being angry.

AUTHORS NOTE annnnnd we are back into the swing of things! I would like to thank you all again for your patience these last few weeks, I am so incredibly grateful to all of you. Anyways, enough of the sappy, enjoy getting your hearts ripped out! :) -Dee

SERIES MASTERLIST

As the weeks passed after that fateful kiss, the atmosphere in the forest house transformed entirely. You had moved into Eris's room, and the space quickly became a haven of warmth and love. Each morning, you would wake in his arms, feeling the solid comfort of his embrace, the soft light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow over the room. The dawn would break with whispered conversations and soft laughter, the sound of your shared happiness filling the air like a sweet melody.

Eris had taken to placing his hand on your growing belly every morning, feeling the baby's movements with a look of awe and wonder in his eyes. The bond between the two of you deepened with each passing day, and the baby seemed to sense the harmony, responding with gentle kicks and rolls whenever Eris was near. The connection between the three of you was palpable, a testament to the love that had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

You found yourself in a nesting frenzy, driven by an instinctive need to prepare for the baby's arrival. Eris's room, once a bachelor’s retreat with minimalistic decor, transformed under your careful touch. You spent hours arranging and rearranging furniture, making space for a crib beside the bed. The room was soon filled with soft blankets, tiny clothes, and stuffed animals, all ready to welcome the new addition to your family.

Eris supported your efforts wholeheartedly, often surprising you with thoughtful gestures. He would return from his duties with little gifts—a handcrafted mobile, a beautifully woven blanket, a carved wooden toy—each item chosen with care and love. Your evenings were spent together, organizing the baby's things and talking about the future, your shared dreams of the family you were about to become.

Despite the physical challenges of being 38 weeks pregnant, you found joy in the small moments. You would waddle around the room, humming lullabies as you folded and refolded baby clothes, your heart swelling with love every time the baby kicked in response to your voice. Eris would often catch you in these moments, his eyes softening with adoration as he watched you, a smile playing on his lips.

One particularly memorable evening, you decided to decorate the nursery corner you had set up. Eris had brought home a set of delicate, hand-painted stars to hang above the crib, and you both spent hours arranging them just right, laughing and teasing each other as you worked. By the time you finished, the room had a magical feel, the stars twinkling in the soft light, creating a peaceful haven for your baby.

Life was good, better than you had ever imagined it could be. The love between you and Eris grew stronger with each passing day, a bond forged in trust and mutual respect. The baby thrived within you, their movements a constant reminder of the new life you were about to welcome. The forest house, once a place of secrecy and fear, had become a home filled with love and hope.

But even in the midst of this happiness, a shadow lingered, a secret that weighed heavily on your heart.

Each morning began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through the windows of Eris's room, the warmth of his embrace a welcome start to the day. You would rise with the sun, your movements slow and deliberate as you navigated the space, your growing belly a constant reminder of the new life growing within you.

Breakfast was a leisurely affair, spent in the cozy kitchen of the forest house. The cook, a kindly woman with a penchant for indulging your cravings, would greet you with a warm smile as you entered, her apron stained with flour from her morning preparations. You would exchange pleasantries as you made your way to the table, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread filling the air.

On this particular morning, however, you found yourself with an insatiable craving for something sweet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you made your way to the kitchens, your footsteps light as you tiptoed down the hallways. The cook greeted you with a knowing smile as you entered, her eyes twinkling with amusement at your predictable craving.

"Good morning, dear," she said, her voice filled with warmth as she bustled about the kitchen, preparing the day's meals. "What can I do for you today?"

You grinned sheepishly, the anticipation of indulging in your favorite treat making your mouth water. "I was hoping you might have some of those honey cakes you made last week," you said, your voice hopeful as you eyed the display of pastries on the counter.

The cook chuckled softly, her laughter like music to your ears. "Ah, I see someone has a sweet tooth this morning," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm afraid we're all out of honey cakes, but I could whip up a batch of cinnamon rolls if you'd like?"

Your face lit up with delight at the suggestion, your stomach rumbling in anticipation. "That sounds perfect, thank you," you said, your voice filled with gratitude as you watched the cook set to work.

As you waited for your treat to bake, you found yourself lost in thought, the warmth of the kitchen and the tantalizing aroma of cinnamon filling you with a sense of contentment. But just as you were about to indulge in your freshly baked cinnamon roll, a voice broke through the tranquility of the moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" came a familiar voice from behind you, the sound sending a jolt of panic coursing through your veins. Turning slowly, you came face to face with Lucien, his amber eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the scene before him.

You froze in place, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. Lucien's presence was unexpected, his sudden appearance sending your carefully constructed facade crumbling to the ground. As he stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips, you felt a surge of fear wash over you, the weight of your secret threatening to crush you under its weight.

Despite the initial shock of seeing Lucien standing before you, you forced a polite smile onto your lips, masking the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. His presence was unexpected, but you knew that you had to maintain your composure, at least until you could find a way to extricate yourself from the situation.

"Lucien," you greeted him, your voice carefully neutral as you returned his friendly smile. "What a surprise to see you here."

He returned your greeting with a warm smile of his own, his amber eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Likewise," he said, his tone light and friendly. "I must say, I didn't expect to find you sneaking into the kitchens for a midnight snack."

You chuckled nervously at his observation, the sound ringing hollow in your ears. "Oh, you know me," you replied, forcing a casual shrug. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth, and I couldn't resist the temptation of the cook's cinnamon rolls."

Lucien laughed softly at your explanation, the sound sending a pang of guilt through your chest. "I can't say I blame you," he said, his expression fond as he looked around the kitchen. "The cook here is quite talented."

As he chatted amiably with you, you found yourself falling into the easy rhythm of conversation, your nerves gradually easing as you exchanged pleasantries. He asked you about your journey to the Autumn Court, his curiosity genuine as he listened intently to your explanations.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your lies heavy on your conscience as you spun a tale of seeking adventure and new experiences, carefully omitting any mention of the true reason for your presence in the palace. You told him about your desire to explore the world beyond the borders of the Spring Court, your words carefully crafted to deflect suspicion and keep your secret hidden.

Throughout the conversation, Lucien treated you with the easy familiarity of an old friend, his warmth and charm putting you at ease despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. He seemed genuinely interested in your story, his questions probing but never invasive as he sought to understand the woman you had become since leaving the Spring Court.

But as you glanced down at the oversized shirt you had borrowed from Eris, the bulge of your growing belly hidden from view, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at your conscience. You knew that you were lying to Lucien, betraying his trust with every false word that passed your lips. But in that moment, with his friendly smile and easy laughter, it was all too easy to push aside your doubts and bury yourself in the comforting embrace of deception.

"So, what brings you back to the Autumn Court, Lucien? Is everything going well with Elain?"

Lucien's expression faltered slightly at the mention of his mate, his gaze flickering with a hint of sadness before he composed himself with a small sigh. "I wish I could say that things were going smoothly," he admitted, his tone tinged with regret. "But truth be told, Elain and I are facing some… challenges."

He went on to explain the difficulties he was encountering in his relationship with Elain, describing her struggles to adjust to life in the Night Court and the walls she had erected to keep him at arm's length. His words were tinged with frustration and sadness, his love for Elain evident in every syllable as he spoke of his desire to break through her defenses and build a life together.

"But it's not just her walls that I'm contending with," he continued, his voice heavy with concern. "There's another complication, another male who has caught her eye." He spoke of the spymaster of the Night Court, a man whose charm and wit had seemingly captivated Elain, drawing her attention away from Lucien and their fledgling relationship.

As he spoke, you could sense the pain and uncertainty that weighed heavily on Lucien's heart, his struggles with Elain's affections a constant source of anguish. Despite his efforts to win her over, it seemed that she was slipping further away with each passing day, her attention diverted by the allure of another man.

You listened sympathetically to his words, your heart aching for the pain he was experiencing. You could see the depth of his love for Elain, the longing in his eyes as he spoke of her, and it struck a chord deep within you. In that moment, you felt a kinship with Lucien, a shared understanding of the complexities of love and the challenges it presented.

"I'm sorry to hear that things are so difficult with Elain," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine concern. "But know that you're not alone, Lucien. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

“I appreciate that,” Lucien smiled warmly, reaching over to steal a cinnamon roll from your plate before steering the conversation toward lighter subjects.

You found yourself drawn into the easy camaraderie between you and Lucien, the warmth of his presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your own thoughts.

But just as you began to relax into the conversation, a shadow fell over the kitchen doorway, and you turned to see Eris standing there, his expression dark and stormy. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, the tension in the air palpable as he took in the scene before him.

Lucien, ever the picture of charm and grace, greeted his brother with a casual smile, his tone light and teasing as he joked about your supposed dalliance on Calanmai. You felt the color drain from your face at his words, the implication of his jest hanging heavy in the air.

Eris's eyes narrowed at his brother's words, his jaw clenched with barely contained anger. He shot you a long, hard look, his gaze piercing through you like a knife, before turning his attention back to Lucien.

"What are you doing here, Lucien?" Eris asked, his voice cold and clipped as he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a steely edge to his tone, a warning that brooked no argument.

Lucien raised an eyebrow at his brother's question, his expression one of mild confusion. "Just catching up with an old friend," he replied casually, his gaze flickering briefly to you before returning to Eris. "And what about you? What brings you to the kitchens?"

Eris's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned his attention back to Lucien. "I was looking for her," he said curtly, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "We have matters to discuss."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You glanced at Lucien, a silent plea for understanding in your eyes, before rising to follow after Eris, your heart pounding in your chest.

But as you moved to leave, Lucien's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Wait," he said softly, his tone filled with genuine concern. "Is everything alright?"

You turned to face him, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of guilt and apprehension. And it was then, in that moment of quiet vulnerability, that Lucien's eyes fell upon the telltale swell of your belly, hidden beneath Eris's oversized shirt.

His expression softened, a look of dawning realization crossing his features as he took in the sight before him. "You're pregnant," he breathed, his voice filled with wonder and joy. "Congratulations."

You opened your mouth to speak, to correct his assumption and reveal the truth of your situation, but the words caught in your throat. In that moment, with the weight of his gaze upon you and the weight of your secret pressing down on your shoulders, you found yourself unable to speak. And so, with a heavy heart, you simply nodded, a silent confirmation of the lie that now hung between you.

As Eris stormed out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing angrily down the corridor, you felt a surge of panic rising within you. Ignoring the discomfort of your heavily pregnant form, you hurried after him as quickly as you could, leaving Lucien to his own divices the oversized shirt you wore billowing around you as you waddled awkwardly down the hallway.

"Eris, wait!" you called out, your voice strained with desperation as you struggled to keep pace with him. "Please, let me explain!"

But he didn't slow down, his strides long and purposeful as he continued to march ahead, his shoulders tense with pent-up frustration. You quickened your pace, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed yourself to catch up to him.

"Eris, please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm in a futile attempt to stop him. "You have to listen to me."

He jerked away from your touch, his expression hardened with anger as he rounded on you, his eyes blazing with fury. "I don't want to hear it," he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting. "I've heard enough lies for one day."

Tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words, the sting of his rejection piercing through you like a knife. But you refused to give up, refused to let him walk away without hearing the truth.

"I'm not lying to you, Eris," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Please, just give me a chance to explain."

For a moment, he wavered, his gaze flickering with uncertainty as he looked into your tear-filled eyes. But then, with a frustrated sigh, he turned away from you once more, his resolve hardening with each passing second.

"I can't do this right now," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I need time to think."

But you couldn't let him leave, not like this. "Please, Eris," you implored, your voice breaking with the weight of your desperation. "I'm so sorry for hiding the truth about Lucien from you, but I was scared. I was scared of losing you, scared of what it would mean for us."

His expression twisted with anger and betrayal as he whirled around to face you. "Scared?" he spat, his voice rising with each word. "Scared of what? That I wouldn't accept you? That I wouldn't love you if I knew the truth?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you tried to make him understand. "No, it's not that," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't want to burden you with my past. I didn't want to ruin what we have."

"What we have?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And what exactly do we have if it's built on lies?"

"Eris, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love you. I love you so much, and I never wanted to hurt you."

For a moment, he stood there, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. Then, with a voice trembling with barely contained rage, he asked the question that had haunted him since the day you first met.

"Who is the baby's father?" he demanded, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. "Tell me the truth, now."

You felt the walls closing in around you, the weight of the truth pressing down on you like a vice. With a shuddering breath, you finally gave in, the words tumbling from your lips in a torrent of pain and regret.

"It's Lucien," you sobbed, your voice breaking as you spoke the name. "Lucien is the father."

Eris's face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury, his eyes blazing with a fire you had never seen before. "Lucien?" he repeated, his voice trembling with the force of his anger. "You mean to tell me that my brother is the father of your child?"

"I'm so sorry," you cried, your heart breaking as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you, Eris. Please, you have to believe me. I love you, and I need you. We need you."

He shook his head, his face a mask of anguish as he took a step back, as if trying to distance himself from the reality of your words. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know if I can be with you, knowing that your child belongs to Lucien."

"No," you pleaded, reaching out to him with trembling hands. "Please, don't leave me. Don't leave us. I love you, Eris. More than anything in this world."

For a moment, he stood there, torn between the love he felt for you and the betrayal that now threatened to tear you apart. Then, with a voice heavy with resignation, he spoke the words that you had feared most.

"I need time," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I need time to figure out what this means for us."

As Eris walked away, each step echoing like a death knell, you felt a profound sense of loss and despair wash over you. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the floor, the hard stone pressing painfully into your knees. Sobs of agony tore from your throat, each one more heart-wrenching than the last, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor. Your cries were raw, primal, a manifestation of the unbearable pain and heartache consuming you.

"Eris," you choked out between sobs, the name a desperate plea that went unanswered. The world around you blurred as tears streamed down your face, the reality of his departure sinking in like a lead weight in your chest. You felt utterly alone, the emptiness around you a stark contrast to the love and warmth you had shared with him.

Lost in your grief, you didn't hear the footsteps approaching until it was too late. A warm hand touched your shoulder gently, and you looked up through tear-filled eyes to see Lucien kneeling beside you, his expression one of deep concern.

"What happened?" he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry. "Are you hurt?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, replaced by another wave of sobs. Lucien's eyes flickered with understanding and sympathy as he helped you to your feet, his grip strong and reassuring.

"Come on," he said gently, guiding you with a firm but gentle hand. "Let's get you to the medical wing. We need to make sure you and the baby are okay."

You nodded weakly, allowing him to lead you down the corridor. Your mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion, each step feeling like an eternity. The journey to the medical wing passed in a blur, the world around you a hazy amalgamation of sounds and shapes.

The healers quickly took you in, their hands skilled and efficient as they checked your knees and examined the baby. Through it all, Lucien stayed by your side, his presence a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil. His eyes were filled with concern, his hand never leaving yours as the healers worked.

"She's okay," one of the healers finally said, her voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Just a bit of bruising on the knees. The baby is perfectly healthy."

Relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the gnawing pain in your heart. Lucien helped you back to your feet, his touch gentle as he guided you out of the medical wing.

"Let's get you back to your rooms," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "You need to rest."

You hesitated, the thought of returning to the room you had left weeks ago filling you with dread. "No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Eris's room. Across from mine."

Lucien nodded, understanding in his eyes as he led you to Eris's chambers. As you approached the door, a sense of foreboding washed over you. With a trembling hand, you pushed the door open, your heart sinking at the sight that greeted you.

The room was empty. Eris's belongings were gone, the space devoid of any trace of him. It was as if he had never been there at all. You felt a fresh wave of despair crash over you, the reality of his departure hitting you like a physical blow.

"No," you whispered, your voice breaking. "He can't be gone."

Lucien's expression turned grim as he looked around the room, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, his hand squeezing yours in a gesture of support. "I'm so, so sorry."

You sank to your knees once more, the weight of your grief too much to bear. Lucien knelt beside you, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "We'll get through this," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered heart. "You’re not alone. We'll get through this together."

But even as his words offered a small measure of comfort, you couldn't shake the feeling of profound loss. Eris was gone, and the world felt a little colder, a little darker, without him by your side.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesofvolterra @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth

#fanfic #x reader #angst #acowar #acourtofthornsandroses #acosf #acotar #acomaf #eris masterlist #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris x oc #autmn aesthetic #autumn court #lady of autumn #acotar au #lucien vanserra #pro lucien #elain x lucien #lucien acotar #lucien x reader #pregnant #pregnancy #maternity #elain archeron #elain acotar #elain x azriel

[elliesmainhoe]

HAY-FEVER

Abby Anderson x fem!reader

summary: you've fallen sick, and you don't want Abby to get sick too- she says it's just hay-fever.

warnings: none, fluff, she's the loml, kissing

btw I'm 90% sure that hay-fever is a British term: hay-fever literally just means seasonal allergies.

DAY 5 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

WC - 440

"no- babe, you can't kiss me right now" you laugh, pushing back against your girlfriends face,a genuinely upset expression on her face.

it was a Wednesday morning, and you and Abby had nothing to do today, so here you were still in bed as the sunrise filters through the closed blinds, Abby's freckled face bathed in the orange glow of the sun.

if it wasn't for the stuffed feeling in your nose, the gross scratch of your throat and the rasp in your voice, you and Abby would be intertwined in more ways than one.

however, although unfortunate, you had decided on an affection ban- leading to a roar of outrage from your girlfriend, genuine offense displayed on her pretty facial features

god, she was so pretty, so fucking kissable. but no- you couldnt give in- Abby when she was sick, was basically Abby but 10x more affectionate.

which- wouldn't be a bad thing, except the fact that having her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she kisses up your torso would not help you tend to the farm you and Abby took care of and lived on.

she hugged in frustration, her face nuzzling into the softness of your tummy, groaning in annoyance,

"whyyy though darlin'- 's just hayfever' she whined, pretty blue eyes fluttering up at you, pressing a kiss to where her face was and started wriggling back up, her hands resting on each side of your head, being careful to avoid your sprawled out hair on the floral pillows "not like I'm gonna catch anything"

"you don't know that baby- and I ain't willing to take any chances" you replied, flicking at your girlfriends nose, another playful smile appearing on her face.

"fine- I'll let you win this one, just 'cus I don't want to stress my poor- ailing girlfriend" she chuckles "ya throat still sore?"

you give a meek nod, groaning at the feeling of Abby pushing up from the mattress, "be back in a sec baby"

it felt like only a second- although you knew that was wrong, floating in and out of sleep not helping your grip on time.

a soft clink of porcelain and wood hits your ears, peering your eyes open to see Abby, now dressed in her usual jeans and vest, hair braided messily, put down a steaming mug of tea, the slight smell of honey drifting through the room.

her lips press against your forehead, soft butterfly kisses comforting you.

"holla if you need anything darl- gotta make sure the barn animals haven't broke loose and caused havoc on the crops" she hums, "love ya doll".

#lesbian #the last of us #wlw #lesbian fic #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby headcanons #abby imagine #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson #the last of us fic #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #tlou fic #sapphic summer

[finelinepie]

"On The Field"

*This is not my photo, but I couldn't find the original poster to credit them.🥺(but thank you to whoever made this)*

THIS SERIES WILL HAVE LONGER PARTS, BUT THIS FIRST PART IS MOSTLY AN INTRODUCTION❤️

*I want this to be a short series, but I am not sure if this is even something people would like?? Please let me know how you like it, or don't like it.. I NEED THE FEED BACK*

Footballrry / reader

Plot: Dating the football star is not what you pictured happening your sophomore year of college, but its happening, and you have to keep calm... how does one keep calm when he looks like..that??

Word Count: 1K and some change

Warnings: none yet, just the smirk we all dream about and a little bit of fluff.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Being in a football stadium is not how I thought my winter break would go. I thought for sure it would be spent with my friends on some extravagant vacation somewhere warm or maybe even going home to my family. It is so weird how things worked out this year. My friends went home to their families, and my parents wanted to spend their first vacation alone now that both of their kids are off at college and they are empty nesters. I found myself staring at the field and studying how the players moved about. The one thing I am most grateful for is the fact that I am currently sitting in a box chair in the warmth. The stadium box was a luxurious escape from the frigid winter air outside, with plush seats, a stocked minibar, and a perfect view of the field below. I don't care how many heat lamps are facing the field right now, I won’t be caught dead down there. The biting cold was relentless, and I could see the players’ breath forming clouds as they huddled and ran their drills.

With my textbook in my lap, I continued to multitask studying and watching the boys on Lambeau Field. My..actually, I don’t know what to call him.. we have yet to label anything. He was running around like a chicken with his head cut off, while his coach chased him, teammates laughing at the scene. I smiled softly and giggled, in total awe of his childlike nature. Shaking my head, I looked back down and continued taking notes. This class is kicking my ass, and I do not want to have to retake it. College is a bitch, and I don't want to stay any longer than I have to.

My thought process was interrupted by the club door opening. Turning my head to see who it was, I smiled and closed my book. “Hey, babe.�� My best friend, Isla, said cheerfully, sitting down next to me.

“Hey, what are you still doing here? I thought you were going home this year?” I recalled. She sighed and looked down at the boys still practicing on the field.

“I am, but I just wanted to look at your dreamboat before I left.” She taunted.

I rolled my eyes before throwing my head back in a cackle. “He is not my dreamboat.” I could feel my cheeks heat up. My blush only deepened when I heard a quiet ‘Yet’ escape her mouth.

She cleared her throat before she continued. “All joking aside, I just came to say bye, and because I know you guys are in the puppy phase, you would be here pretending to study but actually staring at him the whole time.” She winked. “I love you, stay safe, I will see you in two weeks. And remember!” She chirped while standing back up. “Don’t be silly, wrap his willy!” She screamed. I swatted her thigh while she howled in laughter.

I chuckled, shaking my head as Isla made her way out of the box. Turning my attention back to the field, I noticed my favorite boy glancing up at the stands. For a brief moment, our eyes met, his lips lifting to the side to smirk and my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

As I tried to refocus on my textbook, my mind kept drifting back to him. The way he moved with such confidence and energy was captivating. Despite the cold outside, the warmth of the box and the sight of him made everything feel a little bit brighter.

As practice wrapped up, the players began to filter off the field. The star player jogged toward the sidelines, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his face. He glanced up at the boxed seats, his eyes scanning the seats, pretending not to see where I am, until they landed on me. A smile spread across his face, and he gave a small wave. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my cheeks flush again. I waved back, feeling a flutter of excitement.

A few minutes later, he appeared at the door of the club box, still dressed in his practice gear. Harry leaned against the doorframe, looking effortlessly handsome. "Hey, stranger," he said with a grin. "Mind if I join you?" His green eyes shining bright against his flushed face.

I gestured to the seat next to me, trying to play it cool. "Sure, come on in. How was practice?" I am going to throw up.

His large body plopped beside me and I instantly got hints of musky vanilla. His presence immediately made the room feel warmer. "It was good, just the usual drills and stuff. Coach is really pushing us hard, but it's worth it." He glanced at my textbook. Wrapping his arm around me he spoke once more, "What about you? Studying during break—you're dedicated."

I sighed, closing the book again. "Yeah, trying to keep up with this class. It's a killer."

He nodded, his expression serious. "If you need any help, just let me know. I was pretty good at that class last semester."

I smiled, grateful for the offer. "Thank you, I might take you up on that."

For the next hour, we talked about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily. Harry had a way of making me feel comfortable, even when I was a nervous wreck inside. As we chatted, I couldn't help but think about how unexpected this winter break had turned out to be. It wasn't the vacation I had planned, but sitting here with him, it felt like it might turn out to be even better.

Eventually, Harry stood up, stretching. "I should probably hit the showers. But seriously, if you need help with that class, just text me."

I nodded, standing up as well. "I will. Thanks for the offer, H."

He smiled, that same infectious grin that had captivated me from the start. "Anytime. See you tonight, alright?" He leaned down to kiss my forehead and then my lips softly before making his way out the door.

As he walked out of the club box, I felt a warmth in my chest. Maybe this winter break wouldn't be so bad after all.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

#harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #footballrryxyou #harry x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles boyfriend #football harry styles x you #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction

[esouliie]

– everything comes out, teenage petulance ⋆⟡˖

– synopsis | someone from wanda’s past interrupts your saturday morning and you’re not happy about it. wanda, however…

– warnings | angst, hurt/comfort, age gap couple, reader is younger & inexperienced and with that comes✨ emotional immaturity✨ but wanda is *chefs kiss* at giving reassurance :3

– notes | not proof read but the writing is rough!!! but but but i tried to write the inexperienced reader in an age gap relationship with the concept of conflicting emotional maturity… and i hate it lol, the dialogue sucks ass :/ i wish i could write reader with better petulant teenager energy!

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and the soft hum of Wanda moving about the kitchen. Saturdays with her are your favorite, a break from the routine of the week. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Wanda's voice floated in from the other room.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," her tone gentle and affectionate. "I've made us some coffee."

You stretched and yawned, making your way to the kitchen where Wanda stood by the counter, her eyes twinkling as she hands you a mug. You took a sip, savoring the rich flavor of your favourite Colombian blend, overloaded with the insurmountable amount of sugar and cream she put in. Usually, she complains about how you take your coffee - constantly complaining how your daily sugar intake was enough to knock out an elephant - but she knew you wouldn’t drink coffee any other way.

And you needed coffee.

"Thanks, Wands," you mumbled as you smiled up at her, noticing her nose scrunch as she mimicked your smile. She's a few years older than you, and she wore it with pride. She was confident in herself, there was never a time she felt insecure about her age, and the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever met. In the beginning of your relationship, all of your “arguments” ended with healthy communication from Wanda’s side whereas you’d close up like a clam, refusing to talk or fight or even run away. You’d just switch off. And so, her maturity and confidence used to make you feel a bit self-conscious. But every day was better, because you have an excellent teacher who loves you endlessly.

You and all your emotional problems.

"Ready for our walk?" she asked, reaching for the leash. "Lucky's been waiting all week."

You nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. Let's go."

You both had been watching Lucky for the past couple weeks. Your bestfriend - Kate Bishop - had recently gone to Russia to visit her girlfriend’s parents. You were all for it, an exciting buzz had followed you the whole upcoming week. Wanda was a bit unsure at first, having never owned a dog, she wasn’t sure how to take care of it, but you reassured you had enough experience for the both of you.

The park was just a short walk from your house, and as you stepped outside, the crisp morning air filled your lungs. Lucky, the exuberant golden retriever, darted ahead, his tail wagging furiously. but never too far away from you both. The park was alive with people and their pets, the sound of laughter and conversation mingling with birdsong. Children ran across the grass, their gleeful shouts echoing through the trees.

Wanda took your hand, her fingers warm against yours. "It's such a beautiful day," she said, her eyes scanning the park. "Perfect for a walk."

This week had been especially busy for both of you. Wanda had been tirelessly working as the director of her own gallery, a lifelong dream that she had finally realised after months of dedication and effort. Meanwhile, you were preparing for your finals, which meant spending countless hours holed up in the library or Wanda's home office. As a result, the past few days you had seen very little of each other, making the rare moments like this morning even more precious.

You hummed in agreement and squeeze her hand, feeling a rush of affection for the blonde. “Here! You take this!” She offered, handing you Lucky’s ball in exchange for his lead.

Just then, before you could run off to play fetch, someone called out, "Wanda!" Her grip on your hand immediately loosened, and she dropped it, stepping a few steps away. You turned to see an older man - his mousy brown hair styled neatly with a suit jacket over his arm - approaching with a skip in his step.

There was no ring on his finger.

"Wanda, is that really you?" he asked, a broad smile spreading across his face , showing a bit too much teeth for you, as he hugged her warmly. You almost rolled your eyes as they rocked side to side in their embrace, shared laughter floating between them.

As fucking if.

“Vis! It’s been ages.” Wanda is the first to pull away, and yet her arms are still wrapped around his biceps. Your eye twitched as you notice her brush her fingers along the stretched fabric.

You stood there awkwardly. The pair fell into easy conversation as if they were ex lovers or something, and you waited for an introduction that never came. Their voices became a distant murmur as you drifted away from the conversation, your attention returning to Lucky, who was no longer by your side, and who was dangerously close to the pond, trying to reach the ducks with his snout.

“Lucky! Leave the ducks alone!” You called, grabbing his lead from Wanda’s, albeit loose grip, hurrying over towards the dog who was either ignoring you or hyper-fixated on reaching those ducks.

You’re not sure what happened next. You either spooked Lucky out of his trance or he really was being an ass today, but as soon as you got close enough to clip his lead to his collar, he spun on his back legs, knocking into you and zooming away. You stumbled, your balance slipping as you flailed to stay upright. With a yelp, you tumbled down, your body hitting the muddy bank. Your leg splashed into the water, soaking your entire leg. Wet and cold, you scrambled to stand up but a sharp pain shooting through your ankle had you sinking back on to the bank, before you managed to pick yourself up on your good leg. Tears from the pain and embarrassment blurred your vision as you looked down at the state of you. Your pretty dress Wanda had picked out for you this morning was coated in mud and all sorts of dirt. You watched in grimace as pond water dripped out of your shoe as you moved away from the scene of the crime.

Remembering you weren’t alone, and your girlfriend had probably seen the dog wipe you out, you searched for Wanda, only to find her still with her “old friend.” In fact, they seem to have moved over towards a spare bench as you noticed how close they were sat next to each other. Turned towards one another, their arms were basically brushing. Wanda had laughed at something Vis had said as she threw her head back, almost falling backwards until he grabbed onto her, pulling her closer towards him.

The sight made your stomach churn. Anger swirled in a violent revenge inside, and yet, it was sadness that slipped down your face. You felt a burning sensation in your chest and a lump forming in your throat.

All you wanted to do was go home.

A mother and her young daughter who had watched you fall made their way over to you, the question already posed in the way she looked at you. “Are you alright?”

Your teary eyes shifted back to the bench. Still lost in conversation, you watched and waited, wondering what it was they were talking about, wondering if she had even noticed you’re hurt.

But it’s clear she hadn’t seen you fall… or maybe she just forgot you were even here.

“I’m fine.” You replied, but your eyes deceived you.

The woman followed your gaze, “Oh! Are they your parents?”

You scoffed but there wasn’t any bite to it, and fresh tears rolled off your face, “No.”

You began to hobble forward, in search of Lucky but the stranger was one step ahead of you. She grabbed onto your arm, claiming you shouldn’t put your weight on your injured ankle, as she sent her daughter ahead looking for Lucky. She found him in no time, on the other side of the pond, no longer trying to reach the ducks but sat watching them.

You called for him, and without a fuss, he came. You clipped him to his lead, as he stared up at you curiously. He seemed to sense your distress and was suddenly still, looking up at you with a sorrowful expression, as if he understood the part he had played in this. Before you could return to full height, he leaned his head into yours. His actions saying a thousand words, and you couldn’t help but smile at the pup, giving him a little scratch. “It’s okay, bud. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Meeting the concerned mother’s gaze, you pointed towards Wanda, “I’m just gonna…” You trailed off but she understood, turning away with a genuine “get well soon”, instructions to ice your ankle as soon as you get home, and her daughter in hand. With that, she turned in the opposite direction, heading back towards where you fell.

You walked in the other direction, deciding to go around Wanda. You didn’t want to see her right now. Noticing the park exit in sight, Lucky dragged on his lead, trying to turn back the way you came.

“No, Lucky. We’re going home.” You ushered him through the gates, “She can stay here with him.”

A shout caught your attention. Behind you, Wanda was walking - almost running - towards you. The man was nowhere in sight. “Y/N! Where did you go? Why are you leaving?” You noticed a tinge of frustration in her voice, but that was dropped as soon as she took in your soaked state. “What happened?”

“Oh so you did remember I was here.” With that, you turned and walked away as fast as your ankle would let you.

“What-?” You heard Wanda struggle for words behind you before she caught up, her hand grabbing your cold, still - damp arm. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“You would know if you weren’t so impressed by your boyfriend back there.” You spat, shrugging off any hold she had on you.

She grabbed your arm again, firmer this time. “He’s not my boyfriend. His name’s Vision. We went to school together. I haven’t seen him in years.”

Her tone remained the same soft melody, despite the obvious frustration earlier.

You remained silent, scoffing in reply, as you tried to walk away, but she stopped you again, turning you around to face her.

Her warm hands held your cheeks, forcing you to make eye contact. “Hey, what’s really wrong?”

Her gaze softened, concern evident, and you felt tears pooling again as you fought within yourself, torn between letting go of your anger or clinging to it like petulant teenager.

“Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You forgot about me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your face. She wiped at them and a hum encouraged you to continue.

“You dropped my hand, and was talking to that guy so much, you didn’t even know I was still there. Lucky was acting up, so I went to get him, and I fell in the pond. My ankle really hurts, I think I sprained it, and I’ve ruined my dress and—” A sharp sob cut you off as your emotions overwhelmed.

Sensing your distress, Wanda pulled you into her arms. “It’s okay, baby,” she consoled softly, her voice remaining gentle and soothing.

Being in Wanda's arms usually helped you calm down. The warmth of her embrace and the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed steadily would bring you a sense of peace. You would listen to her heartbeat, syncing your breath to its comforting rhythm, as her presence soothe your worries away.

However your anger surged, unable to latch onto a single thing as it flailed wildly. You pushed back against her chest, but she didn’t let go. "No, don't baby me! You forgot about me! I fell into a pond, and you weren't even there to help. A stranger did, Wanda. A fucking stranger cared more about me than my own girlfriend because she was too busy with some fucking guy!"

Her grip tightened slightly as she whispered, a juxtaposed effort to your loud volume, “I know, and I’m so sorry.” But you were too upset to care, your hurt and frustration drowning out her words of apology. You tried to close down on yourself, shielding away from the pain.

“Wanda, let go of me,” you said, hands pushing against her as your voice trembled with the effort to hold back the flood of emotions.

“No,” Wanda replied firmly, her eyes searching yours. “Tell me how you feel.”

“I already told you! ” Her persistence had you shouting again, the walls you were trying to build around your heart crumbled. Tears welled up in your eyes as your throat closed up as you started to sob uncontrollably. Frantic images of Wanda on the bench with the man flashed through your mind, tormenting you. You wiped at your face desperately, but the tears kept coming, a torrent of pain, betrayal and immeasurable grief.

“You acted like I didn’t exist,” you choked out between sobs. “It was like you were ashamed of me.”

Wanda’s eyes widened, not expecting that to be your response. “I’m not ashamed of you.” She said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t know why I dropped your hand or why I didn’t introduce you as my girlfriend. It was a mistake and I’m so sorry.” Her own tears began to pool, her sorrow evident.

“I could never be ashamed of you, Y/N.”

She pulled you into a tight embrace, tears falling on top of your head as she whispered a few more apologies, and a promise to do better, to never make you feel invisible again or doubt her love for you.

“I want to go home.” You whispered, with a defeated energy.

Wanda remained unconvinced, though she understood your struggle. She had been tirelessly encouraging you to be more open about your feelings, and she had seen you make significant progress. However, she knew that progress wasn’t linear. Despite your improvements since you first started dating, she anticipated the occasional bad day. Recognising that this conversation wasn't suited for a public setting, Wanda shifted the focus. “I think Lucky does too,” she said softly, nodding towards the enthusiastic dog at your side.

You followed her gaze to Lucky, who was wagging his tail so energetically - despite the tense conversation he had just been present in- it seemed he might take off at any moment. “Okay, boy. Let’s go,” you said, giving him the command he was eagerly awaiting.

As the golden retriever began to trot down the street, you turned to the older woman. “I’m sorry Wands.”

The weight of those few words lingered in the air, before you felt a gentle squeeze on your hand as Wanda had intertwined her fingers with yours, her grip reassuring and steadfast. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

She didn't let go the entire way, and once again, her presence was a silent promise of growth, support and understanding as you made your way home together.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

[materassassino]

a DinLuke kiss for either 30, 24 or 9 please 👀

This meanders like hell but they really were not cooperating with this.

Kiss roulette!

---

30 - A kiss to the palm of the hand

It is their third mission.

They work well together, once they get over their initial standoffishness. Din keeping his guard up, still wary of this man he trusted to once train his child, and Luke maintaining that impenetrable, aloof façade last only until the end of the first mission, when they are trapped and that distance might kill them. They make it out, and something shifts.

Luke smiles more, wider, more glittering things. Din talks more, allowing himself to be drawn into actual conversation. Small, concentric shifts that surprise the both of them.

Their second mission is seamless, goes off without a hitch: the Imps are too terrified by the presence of Luke Skywalker for anything but gibbering surrender, which Din is grateful for.

But then their third mission is the complete opposite.

The intel was faulty, there were numbers at the facility two men alone, even with one of them a nigh-omnipotent Jedi master, could never have dreamt of dealing with. They should be attacking this place with a squadron, a whole army, not two men and an astromech.

They have to cut their losses, run limping away to lick their wounds. Din’s going to kick Carson Teva’s ass for this one. As they run for their ship, Luke turns, throws his hands up. There are stormtroopers swarming towards them, an unstoppable white tidal wave of idiot true believers, and Luke digs into the Force to throw them back. He tries to wrench the blast doors closed, gets pretty far, there’s a sliver left between them…

And for once, a stormtrooper actually has good aim.

The blaster bolt goes right through Luke’s right hand, making him yell in pain. Din stares as he cradles it, teeth gritted, and he has to haul Luke away, back to their borrowed ship, depositing him with perhaps less gentleness than the moment would warrant into the co-pilot seat, but he’s desperate to get them off this kriffing moon.

He deftly dodges laser cannon fire, working the engines to screaming point to get them away as fast as possible. A retreat is, of course, dishonourable, but Din’s run from more overwhelming odds than he’d care to count at this point. He has a kid to take care of, so sue him. Once the rippling blue of hyperspace is around them, on course back to Nevarro, he whirls in his seat, hands reaching for Luke but not daring to touch, hovering weirdly.

Luke unfolds from himself with less of a pained moan and more of an inconvenienced sigh. Din watches him peel back his single glove with a grimace, to reveal a smouldering hole. Thank the manda Din’s helmet has filters, otherwise he’s certain the smell of charred flesh would be nauseating.

“That’s another one gone,” Luke grumbles, holding it up.

Din stares. “What do you mean ‘another one’?”

Luke turns his hand so the palm is facing Din. Din winces, but then he realises something. There’s no horrid sight of burnt flesh, but rather the snapped wires and broken servos of a prosthetic. Din stares some more, before sinking into his seat in relief.

Just a prosthetic. No horrendous, life-altering injury. Well… not a recent one, anyway.

Luke pokes at his own fingers, frowning. They don’t even twitch, the only movement left all in his wrist. Din sits up straight again, eyeing it. He wants to reach for it, study it, hold it gently. He blinks the thoughts away.

“How…?” He doesn’t know how to finish. Luke has never not answered a question from him, but he knows he’s being incredibly rude. “No, forget it…”

Luke looks up. “Oh. Uh… during the War.” His face is tight, pinched, something haunted in his eyes. It’s not a face Din has ever seen him wear. “I kriffed up, badly.”

“I’m sorry,” Din says, but Luke shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.” He manages to hitch on a smile, something reassuring. “I’ll just need to go to Chandrila for a new one.”

That’s not what Din meant, but he doesn’t know how to correct Luke without making it worse.

“Can you not fix it?” he asks instead. Luke shakes his head.

“I’m a mechanic, but this is a little beyond me. It’s fried. Plus the synthskin needs replacing as well.”

Din nods. He knows Luke can probably fly his X-Wing perfectly well one-handed, but still… he can’t keep the worry from gnawing at him. He gazes at Luke, who has slumped into his seat now. He looks exhausted, truth be told, and Din feels the same, now the adrenaline is fading. He wants to sleep for about seven business days.

They travel on in silence, a rare thing for Luke, the both of them wrapped in their own thoughts for a long while. Din loses track of time as his eyelids grow heavy. They can afford to sleep until they get to Nevarro, he’s certain no one is giving chase, and he folds his hands over his sternum. They could have died, back there. Even with all Luke’s skill and power and his own experience, they came dangerously, terrifyingly close. Who would take care of Grogu? His gut twists sickeningly.

And he hates the way Luke stopped, putting his very unarmoured self between Din and a horde of stormtroopers, lightsaber disengaged. As if Luke was expendable. His gut twists again, some cold horror clawing itself up his throat, his heart thudding. What if? What if? His fist clenches on the armrest and he looks at Luke.

“Hey, Luke?” he says.

Luke hums, just enough of a reply that Din knows he’s still awake.

“Don’t… don’t try shit like that again,” he says. Luke opens his eyes, though they droop heavily, and he frowns.

“Like what?” he asks.

“I’m the one wearing the beskar,” Din says. “Let me take the hits.”

Luke blinks at him, then smiles, something sleepy and pleasant and something stutters in Din’s chest, something winged the colour of sunlight. He swallows.

“I can’t promise that,” he says, and that makes Din scowl.

“Are all Jedi this foolish?” he grumbles. Luke shrugs.

“I don’t know, I’m the only one.”

Another twist within Din, his heart aching. He isn’t fully in control of himself when he leans over, working almost on autopilot. He reaches out, his hand perhaps trembling ever-so-slightly, and takes Luke’s left.

“Then perhaps side-by-side would be a compromise?” he says. Luke looks down at his hand and Din’s, and back up again. Din sees his throat bob, swallowing just like Din did earlier.

“That could work,” he replies, his voice slightly hoarse in a way that makes Din’s heart stutter again, stop-start-stop-start, out of rhythm. He leans forward, tipping his helmet up, and kisses Luke’s palm. He hears Luke’s breath hitch, feels his hand quiver, his fingers twitch. Din rubs circles with his thumb where his lips just touched, feeling mystified by his own bravery.

“Good,” he replies, replacing his helmet. “We’re a team.”

#star wars #dinluke #the mandalorian #din djarin #luke skywalker #pixie writes #kiss roulette

[jujutsustraycats]

Hey ish! Your school would be starting in a few days and here a few things I wish someone told me when I was about to start my journey for 11th! Some of these might apply to you too even though the paths I have and you will be taking are completely different.

Next 2 years are gonna teach you a lot. They'll put you through the highest of high and lowest of lows. They'll change you as a person. They'll teach you so much about life (and also how people can be). Things would get overwhelming at times. You wouldn't understand what the fuck is going on at times. A lot of times you'd be left confused and hurt and alone for both, academic and non academic reasons. Also, you'd get a lot of career advice so you need to know how to filter out the useless ones! The best way to check authenticity can be reflect on the achievements of the one giving advice.

Even though your classmates might be in the same stream, you'll realise that everyone has a different story and that, in the worst ways possible too. There'd be times when it'd feel like none of your peers understand your visions and aim for future, there'd be times you wouldn't have a buddy to chat about your life philosophies with who also has the same opinions as yours (but remember to not give up on people as a whole okay? You'd find people you vibe with at the end of the day, you just have to be bold enough to put yourself out there!)

There'd be also times you might end up severely over worked and sleep deprived (but make sure not to drink so much coffee that your hands and shaking and your heart is beating so fast that your body goes into fight and flight mode thinking you're having panic attack lol). You know ish, these 2 years might completely make you or break you, but remember to not give up despite whatever situations you might end up in.

I personally was a several-Olympiad-gold-medalist kinda overachiever till 10th (even in 11th lol, i didn't sit for it in 12th because my priorities changed. And I overlooked it, don't do that. Celebrate your smallest wins and remember to appreciate yourself for the smallest milestones or you'll end up severely burnt out. It has happened to me twice over the span of last 4 years till now.) But even I ended up seeing the greatest academic downfall i ever had in front of my eyes at many times during these 2 years. And you should know that it's okay. A lot of people are going to be tough on you but try your hardest not to be one of them. Being kind to oneself can be difficult but try your best okay? And you said you are a perfectionist aren't you? Take care little dove.

I've seen a lot in these two years too. A lot of your academic experience also depends on what kind of teachers you get and me, personally, oh my teachers were pos and sadists. They'd bully me for the most stupid reasons (haha losers. You said i wouldn't be able to do it? Well. fuck y'all ✨ [you'd have to learn to be indifferent at times and not let their or anyone else's words get through you. Learn to develop a strong self belief.]) and I seriously hope you get better teachers.

But oh ish not every elder is bad, you'll get some amazing teachers whom you'd never want to break ties with. Hold on to them! okay? You'd also get really amazing friends who you'd know are going to last a lifetime and would be there for you in your toughest times. Hold on to them as well! Some bastards are too good to let go. Ha!

And also, in return, remember to be kind to your peers because you don't know what they might be going through (not to scare you but I had 2 of my friends who'd almost commit suicide, so yeah it can get scary for both, you and them at times but remember to heal them with your love and support. It's an age you all need each other!)

It's gonna be fun, full of lessons, scary, exciting and adventurous at the same time. You'd hate it sometimes and you'd love it sometimes, but despite all MASTI NAHI RUKNI CHAHIE!!! You won't ever get these 2 years back so make sure you don't walk out without making some amazing memories!! Vandalise stuff, copy the sign of principal to escape the school, bunk the classes (to study or not, your choice) have deepest conversations and most light hearted jokes and banters the exact other day, sleep in the class, eat from under the bench, give impromptu speeches on seminars and farewells, break rules....whatever ish. Whatever gets your heart pumping and adrenaline rushing. Because while it's the starting of peak years of your career, you should remember to be a human and have fun at times too. It's okay. It's normal. It's needed. One shouldn't be guilty about it.

Getting less than perfect marks on a few tests isn't gonna harm you as much as you think it will. The ones who love you will continue to love you. The ones who admire you will continue to admire you. The ones who support you will continue to support you.

Baki, main hun idhar hi ❤️ kabhi bhi kuch problem ho toh AA Jana apni badi behen se advice lene, I'll try my best to help you out. As I said the other day, the pain and trauma these 2 years have put me through has only served to make me more empathetic and protective of my juniors so if you come to me with loads of rants i won't say cliché things like "Stay strong". I'd first and foremost listen to you and simply that. I'd listen to you for as long as you want me to. Because sometimes you'd simply just wanna be heard ❤️

I'll try my best to be there for you! If nobody got you, I do! Remember that, okay? ✨

... Dear gods, I don't even know what to say. You made me cry. Like, tears actually sprung up in my eyes. Happy ones, though. Don't worry too much.

I'm not one for physical affection but I would've hugged you so hard if I were there. Thank you. This genuinely made my day.

#you're so sweet chechi thank you thank you for taking the time to send me this and to offer your support #never thought 🥹 would be me irl but here i am #hugging you tight rn virtually hope you know that #and i want to say that i'm here for support too okay? it's a two way thing. i'm also here to listen. #asks: nami! #familia nami #ish's favorites

[campbyler]

hi everyone! the response to ch4 has already been staggering and we are very much enjoying watching your asks and comments roll in 😗🤸just a reminder for anyone who didn’t know — we tag all spoilers (or anything that could potentially be a spoiler) with #acswy spoilers so if you care about that sort of thing or can’t keep up with updates as they come out then i would definitely recommend filtering this tag now! and as always, happy reading :^)

#acswy #you guys have been screaming crying throwing up in our inboxes. we are obsessed with you all #thea is a genius in case any of you care i also screamed cried and threw up when i read it. #anyways #filter this if you need to! or if you Care #if you don’t then 👍 awesome

[degreesofkei]

school play rewired my brain (2)

#sydney x kylar #i'll add tags in case anyone needs to find/filter #degrees of lewdity #kylar the loner #sydney the faithful #THEY MAKE ME ILL OKAY #you are NOT telling me you never held hands or better smooch your childhood friend when yall taught each other to take care of yourselves #bro #m!kylar #gn!sydney #yeah m!kylar is such a twink any ship with him is yaoi to me or something idk gender doesn't matter #also i want viewers to guess

[mishapen-dear]

Cant sleep so im thinking about ayhalo

I think its like. one sided. qaypierre WOULD smooch that demon and take him on dates. qbad would not recognize anything as a romantic gesture. aypierre could throw a bouquet of chocolate roses at him and bad would just be like ! thank you :}

like they love each other, absolutely. they TRUST each other, to the point where i’d even say it gets in the way of bad seeing aypierre as anything more than a good friend. that’s his guy. The dude always in his corner. Friend resource label: team mate (coparent) (down to help kidnap people). bad doesnt do classic romantic relationships- all of his relationships are INCREDIBLY queer, but the closest he usually gets to what others read as romance is a classic chewtoy4chewtoy dynamic. He LOVES to fuck with people and he loves to get fucked with and if there’s a nice jawline or pretty muscles included?? huge bonus !!

he’s got something- not kinder, with aypierre? not calmer, either, but stable, maybe. pierre has proven, over and over again, that he’s on bad’s side. Spying on tubbo, encouraging bad’s pranks, the kidnapping- i can’t call it a reliable dynamic, not with how paranoid bad is, even when he trusts, but there is still a feeling of understanding that, wherever pierre’s limits are for when he cant support bad (or genuinely turn against him), it hasnt been reached yet

aypierre, on the other hand, i dont know enough about to be absolutely sure but there are some Vibes. ironically, i think hes feeling like his relationships are unreliable. max was going to have their baby, and then he wasnt, and then he left him, then max fucking died. plus whatever is happening with him and ayrobot, which probably leaves him feeling like he cant rely on Himself. like he had, if not a little crush on bad, at least some Interest in him, before. as well as several islanders. i remember the days of the Bed Threat.

but thats part of it, too? because those flings didnt have that emotional connection, and i always got the sense that he started looking for that with maximus, to Love and Be Loved rather than pure lust. To care about someone, genuinely, and be cared about in return. but he didnt get that with the flings, and We know that max was using him, but i dont know if he did, but maybe he had a feeling about it and maybe he also had a feelinf about maximus’ feelings towards bad and maybe- there’s something about that? A little push of not-spite-not-projection onto bad.

because bad IS that reliability, right now. he’s a fucking gremlin. a bastard. a prankster silly guy. he trusts aypierre and aypierre trusts him and they dont share everything but so often, when it comes down to it, it is them against the world. them in the corner, caught, aypierre shouting about kissing as a cover for their crimes while bad runs giggling away from him.

#qsmp character analysis #qsmp shipping #<- because i DO think bad would be down to ~fornicate~ #but i dont think pierre drifts into that chewtoy zone enoufh for bad to get that Obsession #theyre kidnapping and escaping buddies !! who share food and secrets and strategies !! #but bad would do the same with the other french yknow #god i could go on for YEARS about how queer qbad’s relationships can get that demon is full of LOVE and that love is QUEER #i could make an argument that even his parenting style is affected by his queerness #in the way that he takes on all required roles for the eggs and cares for them SO MUCH #and SO OBVIOUSLY #as a dad/uncle that you dont often get to see in fiction #to the point where he is still in some way seen as a mother figure #but thats a whole different post #anyway this is part-analysis and part-silly written at ass-o’ #clock in the morning #if i remember ill come back to tag the ship for filtering purposes but i dont wanna throw ‘i think its one sided and exacerbated by grief #and general yearning for love/stability in an ever changing world’ when prople are just tryin to make em kiss #i respect the kisser causers have fun yall im enjoying seeing it #god i need to sleep #ayhalo

[yellowjackets-1996]

(do you love me like that?) you're a reckless driver (I'm a reckless driver) and one day it will kill us if I —

#yellowjacketsedit #yjedit #akilahmari #lyricsongifs #yellowjacketscentral #ok i WANT TO DISCLAIM. im not 100% sold on pitgirl mari im not 100% sold on anything. the show will tell me when its ready! #that SAID im incapable of giffing unless theres tragedy involved and also i think it would be an interesting trajectory for them #akilahmari work imo because while different they are both very vulnerable in the same way #they want to be seen and cared for and they arent in an environment where thats easy #and like. yeah the you tell me all the time to keep my eyes on the road gif IS the gay scenes #but its also akilah being in tune with people and their emotions. ofc she knows taivan love each other ofc she knows lottienat need a momen #and later ofc she knows lottie and nat need a moment!!! that skill serves her as tension escalates #whereas mari cannot read a room + does not filter herself. and akilah often gets the best of that from her! #but also. akilah shoots her a look when she presses javi about the missing bear meat. but also. mari isnt wrong to be concerned #mari is vulnerable and scared !!!AND!!! heavily concerned about survival. so whereas akilah and mari are both scared to hunt javi #mari is the second to run to grab javis body. akilah follows still horrified. mari is better suited to survive in a lot of ways #but also tends to step on toes!!! but also mari is so loyal and so like. attentive? eager? in a way akilah isnt #so mari says more controversial things but ultimately follows status quo in a way akilah is less inclined to #even in terms of skills mari can cook and akilah can sew but eventually what good is stitching people up when they need to eat. you know. #IDK i think theyre soooo interesting and im rly looking forward to their relationship hopefully developing bc i think theyre cute and fun #but i think their dyn could get sooooo interesting. even in terms of letting mari go. like. many connotations #akilah can giggle when the jokes are still funny and they can find each other in any given space. but does that matter if it cant save them #anyway ive run out of tags to tag the chars for my blog and im being really brave about it btw. #also its 2 am and i wanna post and im being even braver about that (not deleting this tag but its not 2 am my time as i post im drafting<3)

[isabellehemlock]

Tips and Resources for curating your fandom experience across platforms

Hi loves,

I wanted to write up a curating resource post for fandom spaces, so here are some things I’ve learned along the way, and though only you can decide what your digital boundaries look like, I do hope that for anyone looking for them, this list might find its way to you.

For tumblr

How to make your DM’s only open to people you follow

How to make it so only people you follow, or people who follow you for a week can reply

How to have your ask box open, but closed to anon’s - no longer needed, there's a simple toggle button near the ask settings for whether to allow anons or not :)

Use the filtering function for your dash (this is also an option for a blocked user - who you might still see if a mutual reblogs them.  You can add their name to your filtered list, and then their post will be hidden on your dash).  This tip brought to you by @quiquimora tumblr resource post (great post if you’re new to tumblr)

For AO3

How to filter out keywords that might appear in summary or author notes, but not in tags (handy for when an author is trying to understandably avoid spoilers in the tags)

A script option for filtering (especially nice if there are certain tags you'll always avoid across fandoms).

Muting authors (a nice option if you don’t necessarily mind engaging with authors in comments, etc, but don’t want to see their content) - this secondary link includes a how to video you can now use the muting feature on AO3, no scripts needed :)

You can block authors now on AO3 as well, and here’s a tweet thread that shows you how, but also what it does, and doesn’t do

If you’d like to avoid certain ship pairings

How to use a few extra search symbols to filter out certain content

Quick tip: don't forget to save your curated search results in either a bookmark, or as a link on your mobile home screen - that way you can just do all the filtering once, vs typing it all over again every time you're loading up AO3

For twitter

Muting words/content

How to set up various privacy settings

For discord

Privacy & Server settings master list

Accessibility settings

Please feel free to reblog with your own tips!

Under the cut, a few extra tips for dipping into new fandom spaces:

Interact with reblogs and hashtags (this isn’t the end all to be all, but one way to showcase your sense of humor with commentary, or digitally applaud a content creator). People can get to know you a bit ;)

If you enjoy content creating, sign up for fandom events: big bangs, reverse big bangs, zines - a fantastic way to connect with several people at once sharing the same hyperfixation as you <3

Look up certain hashtags in someone’s blogs - not in the sense of digging up ten years of posts, but a quick search if you have squicks and triggers that someone might blog about a lot.  It’s not a judgment on them, for many might not follow you for the things you post about either.  It’s just self care to be aware of things you do not want to see on your dash and keep your following list to things that bring you joy - nothing says you can’t do the occasional reblog, or even connect with them on other platforms!

On the flipside - block liberally.  If you look up their blog and you both are on opposite ends of a spectrum on a topic?  Want to ensure they can never say such things to you in DM’s, etc?  Block.

And guess what?  People have the right to do the same to you.  Do not under any circumstances block evade.  This includes going to other platforms to engage with them if you know you’ve been blocked.  Just.don’t.do.it.please.

And if you've made it to the end, you get a digital cookie or hug of your choice 🍪🫂

#curating #filtering #curating your online experience #respect the inherent dignity of every person #respect your own boundaries - it's self care loves #use all the tools you need #can't curate the world - but we can curate our dashes #curating resource #filtering resource

[terrorbirb]

The hr guy is printing covid denial stuff on the printer and it's annoying if only because all of the rest of the office are engineers who I actually know, due to discussions, are very on board with covid is real and we should get vaccinated.

#totes bro #i told him awhile back that i was literally a filter engineer before and masks do work #because they cant......not work..... #and he said 'people dont wear them right' to which i said that doesnt change the effectiveness of the mask itself #so i uhm #will wear a mask if i ever need to have a face to face conversation #the discussions literally were 'we need to go home or wear masks and avoid nicole because her wife has heart issues' #which i didn't even tell them we needed that. they just were like empathetic and care which ♥️ #my wife was in the hospital like 3 weeks after i started #oh they also told me we should take the opportunity to go shopping on our public holidays because no one else has mlk off #which ♥️ for thinking of my wife. you never met her #those are the p.e.s that decided it so.....their word goes