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moonit3 · 2 days

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Yandere Leonard x male employee.

I imagine that the reader is a restaurant worker, actually a waiter, who attracted Leonard's attention and he decides to harass you.

You refuse his advances and he gets angry, grabs you and you slap him in the face.

LATE WALK NIGHT

⟡ cw: male yandere, amab/male! reader, toxic behavior as usual, unwanted flirting from yan!, attempted sexual harassment from yan towards reader but nothing happens (i swear), violence, the yan! gets slapped by reader, insomnia from readers part, toxic environment at work, bad people as coworkers.

⟡ word count: 2.8 k

⟡ yandere! male ceo x amab/male! reader

⟡ notes: ah yes, leonard is getting popular and i am happily to announce another fanfic with him today. and i am here to tell why i am not uploading fanfics as usual, the main reason is that i am both busy with college (nothing surprising) and that my family decided to bring me to a surprise vacation with them, my brother and his significant other (everything is going great btw). so yeah, posts might get even slower than the usual, but don’t abandon me, specially the male readers as there will be plenty of content for you guys.

the small bakery of downtown buzzed with the common saturday’s chatter as you, a young waiter, weaved through the many clients with ease. balancing the tray full of streaming coffee and pastries was a common chore, yet for this evening, things were slightly different as unfamiliar face is sitting at the best table of the place, at the balcony. he is there by himself, unlike other customers, and you approached the table with a smile on the face.

“here’s your cappuccino and macaroons,” you placed the items in front of him, happy to see a new face around the cozy spot. it isn’t always that a new customer manages to get this place, one that has to be reserved weeks in advance. “enjoy the pastry, sir.“

“thank you, mr. [name].” the man replied, his eyes lingering on you for a bit too longer to check the name tag at your name tag. “i have the feeling that you are an attentive waiter, aren’t you? i feel special to have someone like you serving this delicious meal to me.”

you cleared your throat. maintaining your professional demeanor isn’t the easy when a handsome man like this one flirts with you, but you need to keep calm and keep this job. “i-it’s part of the job, sir.” the tiny blush on your cheek is noticeable by the man’s eyes, but he decided to stay quiet about it. “is there anything else you would like to order…?”

he pouted slightly, but quickly a smile made to his face. “i’m sure that you always get compliments from everyone by your appearance and sweet demeanor, am i right?” a finger of his traces the edge of the cup of coffee, it’s almost hypnotic to see his long fingers doing a act so simple, yet to interesting that makes you forget about working. “or could it be that i am the first one to say that?”

another word from this man and you could fainted from embarrassment. it’s quite common when clients flirt with you for all short of excuses such as your personality, appearance, voice and even saying that a young man like you should be pampered by someone older! those people are nuts by telling those things, don’t they know to keep by themselves? you already told him you aren’t interested, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint…

“ahh…” great. now you got nothing to say to him and seeing the smile on the man’s lips, he is probably thinking you are into it and is going to keep bothering you for as long he is here. isn’t life fascinating? well, not for an underpaid employee of this fancy bakery.

his chin rest on the gloved hand, trying a new way to keep looking smooth as you just want to be somewhere else, but here. “well, the answer doesn’t really matter when i am the one who will be the owner of your heart, right?”

you stared at the man in disbelief. not in millions of years, you thought that someone would be so shameless flirting with you like he is, it’s almost like this is a game he has to win. and of course, you are the prize for him. but how far he is willing to go to gain you?

it’s one hundred percent confirmed that rich people are weird and don’t know when to stop talking.

“sorry, sir.” luckily, this time you managed to speak up for yourself. “but like i said, i have no interest in dating. i am happily with my work. sorry for that.”

wait. why are you apologizing? it’s not your fault for making this situation uncomfortable and awkward for both parties, the one who has to be guilt for it is the man! he is supposed to be the one apologizing for making you feel bad for rejecting him. yet he is the one with the money, he is the one who can easily get you fired for the smallest reasons, so you have to act like a good and humble waiter.

the man’s smile disappears when you take a few steps backwards, away from the table and him. he doesn’t look so happy now and he doesn’t bother to hide it, you feel like he is going to explode anytime soon.

“are you sure of it?” he asked, trying to remain his patience in check, but it’s getting hard when you nodded. “if you say so, then i will be taking my leave.”

he gets up from his seat, revealing that he is way taller than you’ve expected and the long coat covering his body makes him twice as intimidating to you. with a final glance at you, the man leave a two hundred bill at the table, way too much compared to his original expenses.

you stood still for about a minute or so after he left, just to make sure he wasn’t coming back to taunt you again. when you felt to go back to work, things got colder and slightly agonizing within the bakery.

the other workers at the bakery began staring at you with jealousy after learning about the man who you served earlier, the one who left an extra tip of one hundred dollars to you. they never liked you, they always felt jealous and envy of the customer who always preferred to be served by you. and the couple who owns the bakery had the brilliant idea of making you the responsible for closing the shop today. according to their words, it is because everyone else has worked so hard and that you look so relaxed that could do just an extra task.

it’s easy to say that you hate everyone at this stupid job and if you could, you would fire yourself to find somewhere else. but things aren’t always so easy and simple like that, also this is the closest place from the apartment complex you currently live.

“idiots…” the heavy trash bags are going to kill your back one day and when that day comes, you will sue everyone here. “fucking idiots who think they are better than me!”

with enough force and courage, you thrown the garbage right into the trash bin. it’s almost pitiful that you feel exhausted for doing a simple task, damn it, you need to work out at the gym if you manage to get back to the morning shift. after throwing the last one out, a tiny piece of happiness reached for your chest, you could finally leave and go back home! after all, you deserve to rest after a long night of working hard and being throwing around by your own coworkers.

you made your way inside the bakery once again through the back doors, then after minutes of checking if everything was in place and changing clothes, you were ready to leave for tonight. you deserve a good rest after everything you went through.

a yawn came from your lips when you began walking away from the bakery, the cold weather of the night always welcomed you during the path back home and it’s nice to have the opportunity to admire the many starts upon the sky. it’s one of the few things you enjoy from working at the afternoon/night shift. looking at the sky never fails to amaze you after working on that stupid place.

becoming so bewildered by the stars always leaves you oblivious to your surroundings. and that makes it twice as easy to someone to just grab and steal you away from the world, am i right? you must be quite stupid to think that you are safe from the consequences of waking home in the middle of the night. don’t you know there will always someone who will try to hurt you? and you are, unfortunately, in this situation.

a pair of hands dragged you to the nearest alley, leaving no time to scream for help nor fight them as the attacker is way stronger than you. you put up a fight despite the little chances of escaping them as they pressed face against the concrete wall, making you unable to catch a glimpse of their face.

“w-what are you doing?”it’s a terrible decision to be talk the person who will probably kill you, but what option do you have? “leave me alone! i won’t tell anyone about this!”

then you hear *him* laughing and the familiar tone rang inside your head, it’s *the man*. the one who couldn’t respect your boundaries back when you were serving and the very same one who will be the reason of your death. your body tense up when his hands go through under your black shirt, trying to stay calm and to avoid any extra trouble from him.

you can feel the man breathing behind your back, getting too comfortable for your own good with his hands exploring the fabrics covering your body. if you don’t attack him now, then you won’t have another chance before things gets worse. before doing anything that could end with your life, you take a deep breath and let your instincts take the control of your body.

between the hands going through your clothing, ready to unzip the jacket away from your body, a small loophole in the man’s oversized confidence let you struggle against his arms and to finally get away from him, then slapping him on the face without hesitation. the loud bang from your action echoed through the alley, shattering the silence for a split second. then, before you could fully comprehend had happened, your body began moving on its own.

you didn’t stop running, not until you were blocks away from that alley, far from the dangerous man you hoped was still there. deep inside, you know he isn’t there anymore, that he is probably chasing you down and that is why you feel so helpless to go back home.

the tiredness is begging you to go back to the small apartment you live and share with the stray cat that comes around, but that would be the stupidest decision to do. the man is out there, ready to attack you at any moment and since he attacked in your way home, then he must know where you live.

it’s horrible that you can’t go back to your safe space to pretend that nothing happened and even more terrifying is that you realize that you aren’t in the streets anymore, rather you find yourself in front of a receptionist who handles a key to the room you’ve just rented for the night. her voice is almost unheard by you, but seeing how expression of worryingly on her face and her lips moved, she had asked if you are alright as you are standing in front of the balcony for more than you should.

“just tired, nothing special.” you managed to reply, gathering yourself to walk deep inside the hotel to find the room for tonight. “goodnight.”

stepping away from the balcony, you heard the receptionist telling you to rest well for the night which makes you feel a bit better than before, isn’t always that a stranger shows to care about an individual she knows nothing nor will ever see again. who couldn’t think that a simple interaction like this could make you feel more relaxed?

once you entered the room for the night, you locked the door and the windows, double checking to make sure that every way of entering is blocked from inside. even placing one of the chairs at the entrance to prevent anyone who has the key to enter, the chances of the man stealing the master key is low, but not zero.

after checking the windows and door is closed for tonight, you took off your shoes and layer down the bed and stared at the ceiling. the boring bulb up there is quickly turned off when you feel like you’re ready to sleep. with tiredness taking over, you fall asleep.

you left the hotel in early morning. before the breakfast was served to the guests, but not earlier enough to avoid the receptionist who smiled and told you to visit always, even offering discounts if you stayed more than two days. a lovely lady, but you don’t wish to see her face anymore.

walking around the city to distract yourself, you decided to call work and asked if you could take a day or a week off to resolve ‘personal issues’ with family. as much you need to work to pay for the rent and basic things, you need to stay away from the bakery to make the man gives up on you or at least to give yourself a break from everything.

“sorry, mr. [l.name].” the voice on the phone sounded apathetic, but you had hope for a better ending. “but we can’t give you advanced vacation as some of the waiters were diagnosed with common cold in the last few weeks, so you have to come in the morning shift as well. but we can give you a rise on your salary though!”

damn it.

why is everything going against you? you were almost sexually assaulted yesterday night and you don’t have any option than going back to work at the place where you met him. things are getting worse by every second goes by, you desperately need to fix your life. but with little money in your pocket and no one to support your mental state, you have to go work.

to a bright side, there was no sign of the man inside the bakery nor has anyone dared to bother you during the morning shift. possible due to the lack of that usual smile on your face, instead a tired and anxious appearance takes over you, forcing you to wear a mask to continue to serve the clients. the excuse being that you are recovering from a common cold.

after long hours of working and trying to remain positive that nothing would go wrong, you are finally ready to leave. well, you were, until a last minute customer came in and asked to be served by you, specifically. you are exhausted, but you attempt to keep a pride appearance to serve that customer. even though, you secretly wish that a lightning would strike on him for being so stupid to come over when the bakery is almost closing for he night.

slowly, you approach the table. “good night. what can i do for you tonight?” if any of your coworkers heard you speak like this, they would definitely snitch to the owners about your ‘lacking professionalism’. “there is promotion if you order a slice of cake with any of the drinks of the menu. it would be only cost twelve bucks.”

the menu hid the face of the individual who remained in silence, not bothering to answer your questions. instead, they held the piece of paper closer to their face, one hand signaling for you to come closer. being a little bit curious, you moved closer to them, wanting to know more.

step by step, you approach the mysterious customer to find someone familiar smiling at you. it’s the man. this time his face carries an eyepatch on the left eye with a small cut under his lips, the result from the past encounter between you and him.

your heart almost stop beating when he grabs your hand, preventing you from stepping away from him. with the tiredness controlling your body, there is no chance that you can escape him nor you dare do with the few coworkers still around the bakery, you won’t want to make a scene to everyone to see.

“well, i think you should serve me with that promotion of yours.” he caresses your hand, not bothering if that makes you uncomfortable. “and your bosses told me that since i am an extremely value customer, they let me order for anything this place can offer. include you, [name].”

hearing him saying your name is horrible, it reminds you of a snake killing a prey after spending so long tormenting the animal. and as you know, you are the prey in the situation, incapable of doing anything than submitting to your fate.

the man gestures you to sit down next to him and you obey his commands, not bothering when he removes the mask from your face. the dark bags growing on your eyes and lack of energy is noticeable by him, yet he still admires that you are finally under his control as he always wanted.

“good boy.” he said. “i can already imagine the many things we need to do together after tonight. but first, let’s enjoy our time together in this beautiful bakery as you won’t need to return to work anymore.”

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

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starheirxero · 17 hours

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Happy pride 😁

#xero creations #I MEANT TO POST THESE SOOO MUCH SOONER but i wanted to write the IDs on my phone and then i forgor HDKSJDJ #anyways. happy 'the T in tsams stands for transgender' month !! /silly #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams ruin #tsams ruin #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #sams bloodmoon #tsams bloodmoon

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kingsandbastardz · 2 days

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scribble

after a couple days of fdb and dfs finally sharing the upstairs bed, hulijing decides to join them

the thing is, despite the drooling and farting and midnight strangling, dfs is sleeping better than he has most of his life. it takes him back to the moments of when he and the 3 kings and wuyan were still poor and young, and they would huddle together in abandoned buildings for warmth. they took turns being restless sleepers. there was never a night someone's leg didn't end up in someone else's face.

maybe it's because of that, the weight of someone he, perhaps, trusts pressing him down without ill intent is just the comfort he needs for him to finally let go. dfs slips past his dreams of blood and hunger and drifts away into true rest.

#mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #hulijing #fang duobing #i still can't draw but at least i can very occasionally pop out a stale scribble every once in blue moon #bastardz drawing #bastardz are writing #writing practice for fake royals #fanart

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vacantfields · 3 days

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You hear the quiet sound of a cord sliding across the room before stopping behind you. You, who are currently sitting on the daycare ground near the ball pit, huddled in on yourself, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs, as you tried desperately to stifle your tears.

"Sun, I'm not in the mood-" You started to speak after the newcomer, Moon, hadn't said anything. "My, Starlight. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am not Sun." The tall moon-themed animatronic said with a rasp to his voice, his presence sending a shiver down your spine. You heard the cord on his back unlatch, and he plopped himself down next to you.

"Oh, sorry, Moon. The lights are on-." You finally look up and see a vast expanse of darkness, not the familiar daycare room. "Oh." Moon hummed. "It's been dark for around ten minutes, Star." "I see. Or, well, I don't see now," you said as you rubbed the palm of your hands against your eyes for a moment. Moon let out a soft chuckle as he watched you next to him.

"Is there a reason why you have been crying since you got here?" The tall animatronic next to you asked, curiously. You let out a soft sigh and sniffle. "No… I mean, maybe? I don't know." Moon hummed at your answer, then moved a hand to the back of your head and gently slid his palm along the base of your skull. "We do not like to see you so upset, Darling Star. If there is something we can do to soothe you, let us know." He spoke so softly; his voice sounded deep but so calming.

#noahs silly rambles #dca fandom #noah writing #moon #sun #moon x reader #moon x y/n #drabble #short #random thing #i just wanted to write something #kdjshgkjshg

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chukys-mouthguard · 2 days

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23. “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

luke with his gf

Prompt: “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

Note: i feel like Luke is so hard for me to read that i had to do research before writing this 😂 like Jack and Quinn give off energy and vibes that are easy for me to read, Luke is literally the opposite, so hopefully i did him justice for my first time writing with him

“Oh my gosh, what a day!”

With a sigh you fell back onto the couch, Luke softly chuckling at you as he unpacked the takeout you’d ordered from your favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Yeah, it was really fun. Can’t wait to see how many hearts break when photos end up online of Jack and his girlfriend out there.”

Joining Luke in the kitchen you searched for your takeout container while he handed you a plate. “Yeah, Jack is gonna be Mr. Heartbreaker for a few days. The girls will get over it I’m sure.”

The two of you taking your food over to the living room, this becoming a routine you’d shared in your relationship for a few months now. Every couple weeks you’d order takeout, trying to be mindful of both of your diets, though Luke’s claims it should be a weekly tradition. The two of you’d sit on the floor around the coffee table and talk for hours while eating dinner.

It was one thing you’d never gotten tired of. Loving the opportunity to enjoy the moments together just the two of you. Always having stories to talk about, especially when Jack and Luke were on the same team. He took every chance to chirp his brother he could.

“Did you see Lazar at family skate today?”

Immediately smiling as you thought back to Lazar on the ice with his wife and son, your heart melting at the thought of it. “Yes, oh my god he is so freaking cute. And Curtis seemed just over the moon getting to share that moment with him.”

Luke nodded as he dragged his fork through his food.

“It sort of makes me excited for the day that I’ll have that, well I mean, we I guess. Not just me.”

Your cheek flushing red at his words, leaving you speechless as he looked away embarrassed. “What??”

He nervously asked as you’d yet to say anything back to him.

“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

Luke just smiling as his cheeks grew red. He wasn’t the type to be overly emotional, leaving that role to you. But he’d felt comfortable enough to say what was on his mind.

He be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the future with you, though only having been together a few years, he felt like it had been your whole lives. And judging by the blush on your cheeks and the smile on your face, it seemed like you weren’t opposed to the idea.

“Well, I don’t know. Just seeing guys have moments like that, can’t help but think about it happening to me you know?”

Nodding your head you couldn’t stop smiling, loving this side of Luke where he wasn’t afraid to be open and honest. Letting his guard down a bit and showing some emotion.

Moving to his side you curled up under his arm, wrapping your arms around him as he offered you a bite of his food.

“I love the idea of us having a moment like that one day.” Tilting your head up you gave him a kiss on the cheek as he smiled. “You, me, and our little girl skating around the ice.”

“Oh, you were thinking girl? Interesting, I thought boy.”

Luke shrugged as he stood up, walking to take the empty food containers to the kitchen.

“Well, looks like we are just gonna have to try for one of each then huh?”

Your eyes going wide as you stared at him, Luke just laughing while he cleaned up. “One of each? Oh my gosh, we don’t even have one kid yet and you’re already talking about multiple?”

Luke smirked at you from behind the door of the fridge as he put away the leftovers, enjoying how flustered the conversation had made you.

“It’s never too early to get started, or at least get some practice!”

#luke hughes fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fluff #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic

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cherie-doll · 2 days

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Parents

₊˚ପ⊹ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi

༉‧₊˚. I wrote this while at a party

Ghost

So sweet and gentle around his kids

He holds their tiny hand next to his and chuckles at the size difference

Doesn’t let the kids eat in the car

Once he’d given the kids a sticker pack and then fell asleep on the living room floor

When he woke up his face and back were covered in stickers

Soap

Is a kid himself

Buys the kids questionable gifts

“Johnny, why did you give them firework snappers?”

“It’ll keep ‘em entertained for a while”

“They’re throwing it at the neighbors…”

Snickering “Let them have fun”

Gaz

Tucks the kids into bed

When one of them has a nightmare he’ll insist on getting out of bed to make sure they’ll be alright while you sleep

Will wake up earlier than you to make them waffles and have a cup of coffee/tea warm and ready for you

Cleans up the kids’ play area

Stays on top of their doctor and dental appointments

Takes cute pics of you when you’re holding the kids

Writes endearing love notes and has the kids give them to you

Alejandro

The type to remind their kid how proud they are of them

Encourages the kids to pick up a sport

Constantly shows their kid support

“Échale ganas mijo/mija” or “Ponte las pilas”

He gets protective of the kids when you get mad at them, taking them out for ice cream afterward to assure them they’re still loved

When you’re very stressed and busy he finds a quiet moment to give you a shoulder massage

He also makes sure to remind the kids to appreciate you and the hard work you do taking care of them

Phillip Graves

Makes time on weekends to take the kids to fun places

He prefers road trips over airplane rides

Says it teaches the kids a thing or two about geography

Would want the kids to spend plenty of time outside

(Making sure they touch that grass fr)

If you’re of a different ethnicity than him he would want the kids to learn about their heritage

Keegan

The type to play rough with his kids

If he had a daughter he’d teach her self-defense

He has hair tutorial videos saved to try doing his daughter’s hair for school and for his boys he just whips out some hair gel, slaps it on, and calls it a day

His favorite spot to take the kids on vacation is the beach

Regardless of how spent he is at the end of the day, he’ll make time for the children

Once you walked into the living room to find Keegan in the armchair asleep with the kids resting their heads on his chest or shoulder, you have a pic of it taped on the fridge

König

Ngl I feel like he would be somewhat clueless around kids

He went to the library to pick up books on parenting when he found out you were expecting

He’s over the moon the moment he holds the baby in his arms

“Am I doing it right?”

He turns the tv on intending to keep the kids quiet for a while but he ends up getting into the cartoons while the children wander off

Horangi

Real laid back dad

Buys the kids whatever they want when going to the store

You scold him along with the kids for overspending on candy and toys

When you get on his back for it he’ll nod and keep his head down

“Sorry 자기야, I won’t do it again”

He will do it again

He’ll apologize to you but give the kids a knowing grin behind your back

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hazelsmirrorball · 2 days

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Lacy | Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargent x Fem! Reader

summary: oscar piastri has everything logan sargent could ever wish for but he would trade everything just for y/n to seem him the way he sees her

faceclaim: olivia rodrigo

pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader, logansargent x friend!singer!reader

a/n: can’t even tell you what is this, but it’s something different that’s for sure. Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language

Logan Sargents eyes wandered all over Oscar Piastri’s apartment. His heart beats to the rhythm of the clock near him. He could feel sweat dripping from his forehead as he waited for Oscar to enter the living room. For a guy that almost exploded his phone with messages for them to hang out; he’s taking a lot of time to pay him attention.

At first he didn’t want to come, but part of him felt guilty if he denied his best friend’s invitation. He couldn’t say he was busy because the McLaren driver could read right through him. He nervously played with his hands trying to think of something, anything but the thought of Oscar’s longterm girlfriend. He felt bad, he couldn’t lie to himself and deny what was going through his head.

But as Logan’s eyes continuously scanned his around his apartment trying to distract himself it was as he saw the ghost of her leaning towards him. Every bit and piece had, y/n’s touch, everything traced back to her.

Her sweet perfume lingered on the couch cushions. While an empty can of her favorite drink sat on the table in front of him. As he kept looking his eyes rested on the small table next to him, the red cherry lipstick that covered her beautiful lips stared back at him as he felt his stomach turn. Pieces of her used handmade bows that had little strands of her hair. Logan let a deep sigh imagining all the times Y/n would come in the paddock with her sweet cherry lips and her beautiful hair flowing in the wind.

Logan’s hand slowly reached for the table in front of him, trying to snap himself out of the trance he was being suck into. How can a thing so sweet ruin all his morals, all his beliefs. He felt guilty, guilty for wanting the one thing that made Oscar Piastri happy.

But why couldn’t he have her? Oscar wasn’t a bad person towards Logan, well at least not directly. Oscar Piastri had everything Logan Sargent ever wanted. A perfect F1 career, a perfect team, a perfect life and the perfect girl. Oscar was smart, attractive and funny, everything opposite from Logan. At least in his eyes. Why couldn’t Logan have this one thing? What did Oscar have that Logan didn’t? He swore he had potential, he just needed time for people to see it. Oscar had the only thing Logan Sargent really wanted, Y/n.

“Sorry, mate! I was busy helping Y/n hang a painting in her room. But my attention is one hundred percent on you now” Oscar said sitting down next to Logan. He slowly scanned Oscar body noticing the familiar lipstick stain adorned on his lips.

As much as Logan wanted to avoid the facts. He found himself stumbling upon the couple everywhere he would go. Photos of them in the paddock, group hangouts, hell even fans would tagged him in their couple pictures. It drove him insane, he tried to rationalize, to call himself. But every single thing Oscar did was poison for Logan, he couldn’t take it anymore. It was like Oscar deep down knew about Logan’s feelings towards her and was out to get him. He wanted to make him suffer, there wasn’t any other reason. Oscar was to get Logan, that was a constant thought in his head. Maybe he was jealous or maybe he idolized Oscar in a way no one else could.

“Oh, it’s no problem really. Mentioning Y/n I don’t know if you remember the text I sent you a few weeks ago” Logan said placing his notebook in the table in front of Oscar and him. Oscar looked at the notebook and nodded

“Yeah! I showed y/n the thing you wrote and she was over the moon! she enjoyed it a lot, she was in a complete writers block so that helped her a lot with writing that new ep she wanted to do. So thank you so much logan, i owe you one big time” Oscar said slightly punching logan shoulder as he forced a smile letting out a chuckle with him.

“that’s what friends are for. But she decided to make the poem into a song? i didn’t think it was that good” Logan responded raising an eyebrow towards Oscar. He simply shook his head and turned towards him.

“I don’t know where or how you wrote that poem. But i trust y/n’s opinion, that song is going to be a hit!” Oscar responded in attempt to shake Logan insecurities. He quietly nodded, feeling a real smile starting to creep up.

“what’s the name of the song?” Logan managed to slip out

“Lacy”

Oh, Logan Sargent Loathed the dazzling starlet that was Oscar Piastri and even though he didn’t have y/n. he would do anything to have Y/n bows around his wrist and her lipstains on places only the two of them would know, even if he had to play the long run.

y/nnnn via instagram!

liked by logansargent, oscarpiastri and 2,368,902 others

y/nnnn so excited for my new single that’s coming out real soon!!! thank you so much to one of my favorite drivers @logansargent that gave me the main inspo to write this song, love you so so much and i wish you guys love this so as much as i do x.

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landonorris for a moment i forgot you were a singer, i thought you were just oscar’s annoying gf

-> y/nnnn shut up

user101 mother is back!!!!

user23 thank you logan for being y/n’s inspiration

user1893 team logan!!!!!!

user78 team oscar!!!

oscarpiastri so talented! i love you so so much

logansargent you are wonderful y/n!! i’m always proud of you and ur music

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iliketangerines · 2 days

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Hello, could you write about mk1 Scorpion, Sub Zero, and Smoke going skinny dipping with their s/o?

a dip in the pool

a/n: i've never been skinny dipping, but i am always in the pool

pairing: bi han, kuai liang, tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Bi Han can’t keep his eyes off you, how your silk robe falls to the stone floor and how the water surrounds you and cups your body

he hugs you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your neck as he murmurs about how beautiful you look

you giggle at the feeling and say that he looks just as beautiful, and he just kisses the side of your neck under the pale light of the moon

it’s only you two at the hot springs, and he can feel your skin warming the longer you stay in the pool and the longer he kisses your neck

finally, you wriggle about in his grip until you face him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and laying your head against his shoulder

he holds you in his arms, just listening to the waves lap at your skin, and you bury your hands in your hair and ask if everything was alright with him

Bi Han lets out a grunt and says that he’s find, but you pull back and quirk your eyebrows at him, imploring for a better answer than the lackluster one you gave him

he sighs and rests his forehead on yours, hands coming down to rest on your waist as yours rest on his shoulders, and Bi Han says that he feels unseen

you listen to him as he tells you all of his frustrations with Liu Kang holding back the Lin Kuei and how he felt so limited in what he could do

at the end of his rant, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a frown, you pull away from his and rub your thumb in between his eyebrows, releasing the tension

then you hum and thank him for confiding in you, and he hums, closing his eyes and savoring in the intimacy of the act

Kuai Liang rests in the pool, sighing and pulling his hair loose from the tight bun it had been in all day, and you step into the pool next to him

you lean in close to him, sighing at the warmth of his body, and he pulls you closer so that your chest is flush with his

reaching your hands up, you rub at his scalp, and he groans at the feeling, closing his eyes as you massage him and release the tension from his head

it’s relaxing, and he lets you do your work as your fingers move from the top of his scalp methodically and slowly, making sure to rub every single spot

there’s a comfortable soft silence that envelops the both of you as you massage his scalp, and the strands of his hair catch onto the water and spill around his back and to the front

and then when you finish, you cuddle against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, and he just holds onto your back for stability

neither of you say anything, not needing to in the moment, and Kuai Liang buries his nose in your hair, breathing in the scent of you and your shampoo

it always brings him back to the present, to you, to remind him that he has something worth fighting for and to come back to after long missions

he can feel your breathing slow and even out as you fall asleep in his arms, and Kuai Liang just smiles down at the sight of your relaxed face

always so stressed and running around doing something to take care of him, and it calms his heart to see you so relaxed in his arms

he kisses your forehead before lifting you into his arms and stepping out of the pool to dry the both of you off and tuck you into bed

Tomas watches as you let out a whoop and cannonball into the pool, sending waves of water splashing into his face and wetting his hair

he laughs at your antics, coming up to where you float and then grabbing onto your shoulders and pushing you under briefly

you bob back up to the surface and let out a faux gasp of surprise before you push down on his shoulders and send him under the water as well

he laughs under the water, bubbles floating up to the surface before he does as well, and he splashes you as he resurfaces

it starts a splash war between the two of you, determined to splash each other the most despite the fact that the both of you were fully soaked

finally, Tomas wins the war when he dives under the water and grabs onto your foot to drag you under the surface and into his arms

you smile at him underneath the water, your hair floating around you, and he can’t help it as he gives you a kiss

your arms wrap around him and bring him in closer as the two of you kiss, but it’s an awkward rumble and tumble as the both of you float back up and bump your foreheads against each other

the both of you take in deep gasps of air as your heads come up, and then the both of you laugh as Tomas brings you back into his arms and kisses you again

it’s wet and messy, but the neither of you mind when you finally pull away and rest your foreheads against each other

it’s all you do for the rest of the night, laugh with each other and sneaking in kisses, and it was really a moment of bliss

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deadlypoetacademia · 21 hours

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Talents include randomly standing in the middle of the road just to click the picture of the moon.

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moirindeclermont · 3 days

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Daily thread about BridgertonS3 (and my phone is so done with me that after daily its suggestions is thread 😂)

Today I want to talk about this bit (gif by @polinsated)

Because as much as I loved everything during the carriage scene, this bit makes me crazy every time.

It's the subtle smile of Pen, still quite unsure that this is not a dream. Its Colin's visible hunger, like he wants to devour her more.

It's the moment after declaration, after the sex, after the laughter (I could write an essay about that as well). It's the moment on which they both take in the recent event. He could not be any happier because she is finally in his arms. She is over the moon, but you can see there is still a bit of insecurity that makes me think she don't have the realization yet.

And in this moment, where they are quiet together, you can see there is no awkwardness on sharing a space so close to each other. On the contrary, they are at home in each other arms. I never see then being so at peace like in this moment.

It's a look of promise to come. It's hope manifested. Right there, that is love. It's the fist time when they see each other and know both of them reciprocate their feeling fully (after the moment of lust). And in this quiet, beautiful moment, they both took a breath in and stay in the moment, feeding off each other energy.

Do you see why it makes me crazy everytime I see it??

#carriage scene #polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin meta #polin supremacy #daily thread about BridgertonS3 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton season three

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haknom · 1 day

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WHO MADE HER CRY?! — PARK SUNGHOON

CHAPTER SEVEN | Yall better watch.

PREVIOUS MASTERLIST NEXT

NOTE i finally finished that STUPID history culminating. i can finally rest and study for my exam and do my math culminating AND WRITE.

PERM TAGLIST — @soov @urszn @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yyunari @wvnkoi @isoobie @lovrqis @gibbysupremeacyisreal @rikizm @teddywonss @100203s @yizhoutv @yuviqik @itsactuallylina @i-yeseo @flwoie @shinrjj @moons-v @rikibun @baekhyunstruly @haechansbbg @cholexc @flolio @winuvs @weoris @sunooluuvr @aespaslut @kaypanaq @jungkit

WMHC TAGLIST ONE — @hoonvrs @bywons @thermalant @chxrlvspp @enhaz1 @chanhee-hee @thenastone @atrirose @oldjws @tjbamrayg @ni-ki-ismyluv @sophi-ee

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written-in-flowers · 18 hours

Text

His Muse: Demon!Wooyoung x Fem!reader

Pairing: Demon!Wooyoung x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, a bit of angst

Summary: While the masters are on a week-long trip, YN goes to visit her favorite stylist. Hoping to leave with a new wardrobe, Wooyoung has different ideas.

Tags: demon fucking, monster fucking, bigdick!wooyoung, cuckolding fantasy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, kaptoptronophilia (mirror fetish), public sex, dressing room sex, mentions of orgies, mentions/implications of sex, striptease, clothed male/half naked female, mentions of enslavement,

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

You wished you’d been invited. A “black mass” sounded interesting. The invitation arrived a day ago in a crimson envelope, detailing the time and date of the year’s ‘Black Mass Week’. You’d noticed an uptick in your boyfriends’ behaviors up until today. Seonghwa appeared irritated by the summons, preferring not to go at all. He told you he’d only go because of rules, responsibilities and expectations of an Heir. Hongjoong said he didn’t mind a week of good parties, but he said the novelty wears off by the third or fourth day. San said he liked the ceremonies, yet he didn’t find the taboo, ‘out-there’ acts that get performed threw him off. Watching San packing for the week-long event, you wondered why you couldn’t go.

“I still don’t get why I can’t come,” you told him, playing with the sleeves of a dress shirt. “I’m technically family too. You’re my mom’s cousin, which makes you my second-cousins or something.”

San placed a rolled up shirt into the suitcase, “It’s a pure-blood only event, Darling. Cambions and other subspecies of demons aren’t allowed. Those witches didn’t make pacts with Lucifer’s cousin or half-breed son.”

“Witches?”

“Yeah, witches. You know, fly on brooms, make potions, and curse people kind of witches,” he said. “The ones who look like they crawled out from the deepest pits of Hell? Those witches. You see,” he held up two pairs of dress shoes, choosing between them as he spoke, “Witches, real ones, make pacts with Lucifer to gain power-Which one do you think?”

“-The pointy ones. They’re classy-”

He nodded as he placed the pointed ones in a separate bag. “Okay, so yeah, they write their name in a book and are given powers to spread chaos and corruption throughout the living world. In order to keep their powers, they must travel to a meeting place where they make sacrifices and dance naked under the full moon. These sacrifices sometimes involve screwing demons. The sexual energy fuels the energy underneath the full moon that night. Think of it like a week-long orgy in the middle of the woods where witches and demons hump each other for everlasting power and youth.”

“But, aren’t witches supposed to be, you know, ugly?”

“In their true form, yes, but we obviously don’t want to fuck them when they look like that,” he huffed. “Some of them are so twisted looking. It’s gross,” he shuddered before taking socks out of his drawer. “You know we’d take you with us if we could, Darling, but it’d be pointless for you to be there.”

“You’re telling me you’re going to spend a whole week banging ugly witches while I’m here all alone?” you moped. You held onto the shirt. A pale yellow dress shirt, the soft material felt smooth and smelled like him. “Not fair.”

“You won’t be alone, Darling,” he said, smiling fondly when he saw you with his shirt. “You have Jongho, Mingi, Linette, Yunho, Yeosang and your plants. If you get needy, you can call one of them to give you a hand if you want.”

“It’s not as good with them,” you replied. “I like it, of course, but it’s different with you three.”

“I know it is,” he said, hanging off the bed to reach you. “We’ll give you all the attention you want when we come back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He gave you a light kiss when someone else walked into the room. “Are you still moping about not going with us?” Seonghwa put his fists on his hips.

“Yes,” you said, looking up at him. “Don’t go.”

“It’s only a week, Kitten,” he said, coming over and kissing your forehead. He knelt at the foot of the bed, his head inches from yours. “I wouldn’t want you to come even if you’d been invited.”

“Why?” you asked, a nerve being hit in your chest.

“Because then I’d have to share you with other people,” he admitted. “My cousins, my uncles, aunts, half-siblings, and all the rest. Not to mention the witches too. I already am suffering sharing you with my brothers-”

“-Hey!-”

“-I don’t want anyone else getting their paws on you.” You turned onto your stomach as he bent to kiss you again. “So, you’re staying home.”

“Hongjoong would want me to go,” you said. “Ask him. He’ll tell you that I should go with you.”

“Um, no?” Hongjoong appeared from thin air, leaning against the doorframe and looking indignant. He walked around the other side of the bed, turning your head to kiss him. “I only share you with people I like, and I don’t like anyone there enough to do that. You’re mine,” he briefly kissed you again, “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Besides, things can get pretty…” San began, searching for the word, “Freaky?”

“I like freaky,” you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Not your kind of freaky, babe,” he chuckled.

“There’s lots of blood sacrifices, ceremonies, bat-shit gross sex things,” Hongjoong explained what San could not. “And everyone there is in their true forms, and that might scare you a bit.” He pinched your cheek, “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I did wonder why you guys don’t look like other demons,” you admitted. “I felt too afraid to ask.”

“It’s pretty scary,” he said. “Seonghwa is particularly scary.”

“Am not,” Seonghwa flicked his ear. “San is.”

“I’m the least scary,” San said. “Anyways, we want you to stay here at home where nobody can touch you except us.” He kissed your cheek, and nuzzled your nose with his. “And selected others, of course.”

“You’ll be kept busy,” Hongjoong said. “Aren’t you going to Wooyoung’s this weekend for that new wardrobe?”

“You bought more clothes, Kitten?” Seonghwa said in disbelief. “Isn’t your closet full enough?”

“It’s the other half of my order,” you reasoned. “He brought the first part so I had stuff to wear after I tossed the rest.”

“Thanks for that by the way,” he huffed. “I wasted all that time designing your clothes, and you threw them out.”

“You got a refund for them.”

“Still. I thought you’d keep some of them.”

“I did keep some of them,” you said. “I kept the baby doll dresses.”

“Hmph,” he sulked, looking away from you.

“I can wear them for you when you come home,” you told him, pecking his cheek. “Unless you’re so empty by the time you come back that you won’t even want me,” you said, sticking out your tongue.

“I’ll definitely leave enough for you, Kitten.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time,” Hongjoong said, tucking hair behind your ear. “None of those witches hold a candle to my little pet.”

“Not a single one,” agreed Seonghwa, tapping your nose. “They’re not as cute either. I’m going to miss my Kitten,” he pecked your lips, “And how she rides me so easily. Those witches can’t take my dick like you do.”

“Or cuddle afterwards,” said Hongjoong, his hand running down your back. “They just move on to the next demon or go back to dancing or whatever’s happening at the time. I’ll be counting the days until I can come back to you,” he kissed you again. “It’ll be agony. I’ll be completely miserable without you.”

You giggled, knowing exactly what they were doing.

“I’m going to be wailing and moaning for you,” said San, pouting and kissing you.

“Keep going,” you joked, nose in the air with pride. “Tell me more about how much you’ll miss me.”

“Why tell you,” Hongjoong leaned further, “When we can show you instead? Come here, pretty.”

San ended up repacking after his suitcases got kicked off the bed.

*****

‘Beauty by Woo.’

The sign hung above the double glass doors of Wooyoung’s shop. Dark purple drapes hung inside the large display windows, where blank mannequins modeled chic outfits in various poses. The matching awning hung over the doors with a small purple carpet. The storefront screamed ‘Wooyoung’ in every way. You knew Wooyoung’s shop was popular, but the amount of people walking in and out impressed you.

“Here we are,” Mingi announced, opening your door. “Jung Wooyoung’s boutique.”

You put your sunglasses on top of your head, and stared at the display. A mannequin posed with a hand on her hip stood in slim black capris and a sequined top. “Looks great.”

“His message said he finished the other half of your wardrobe,” Jongho said, coming around from his side. “But, he mentioned you’re more than welcome to browse his jewelry section. He said he got a bunch of new sets he thinks you’ll like.”

“We can always count on Wooyoung to try sneaking in another selling pitch,” you shook your head. “Maybe I’ll buy some just to make The Masters regret leaving me behind, huh? What do you think?” you asked him.

“Go for it, just don’t bring up my name when they find out,” he jested.

Your boyfriends left home a few days ago, and you missed them like crazy. The house felt empty without them. You missed walking by San’s gym and hearing him counting under his breath or taking deep breaths as he lifted weights. You walked into Seonghwa’s library for a book, expecting to find him but finding nobody. Not to mention, Hongjoong’s records or his guitar from his bedroom. You found comfort in Octavius and your plant children, though nothing filled the emptiness like they did.

“I’ve never been here before.” Linette slid out of the car after you. She took in the display with marveled eyes, “I heard Wooyoung’s clothes are to die for.”

“They are,” you confirmed. “He’s made all my clothes: the ones I wore for the masters and ones I wear now. I asked him to do a second set,” you said, linking your arm with hers, “Maybe we’ll get you some stuff too. I’m personally sick of you in that drab uniform.”

“What’s wrong with my uniform?” she asked, looking down at it.

“It’s very…” you couldn’t find the right word, “French maid? Like, the outfit sexy maids wear.”

“Am I not a sexy maid, Mistress?” she smirked at you.

“You always are, but this one's a bit too tacky, don't you think so?”

“Then what would you like me to wear?”

“Whatever you're comfortable in.”

You recognized one of the assistants in the window dressing the statue. The young demon spotted you as she clasped the top in the front, and gasped. You saw her shadow moved out of the window and through the shop as you approached the front doors. Jongho just opened the front door when she appeared before you. Black leathery wings batting behind her, her pale green skin made her violet belted dress stand out more. You noticed her velvet collar dotted with diamonds, which you found odd compared to the regular leather collars of the others. Wooyoung’s favorite, no doubt. You remembered her from the dozens of times she’s done your makeup, but you never caught her name.

“Afternoon, my lady,” she bowed her head, sharp teeth in her smile, “Welcome to the boutique. I’m Kyra, how can I help you today?”

“Wooyoung said my wardrobe was ready,” you told her, searching for the skinny man in the sea of customers. “I was wondering if he was here?”

“Yes, of course, my lady. Follow me.”

She led you through the spacious store. Wooyoung didn’t only sell tailored clothes. You saw racks of clothes all around the store, with a small jewelry and shoe section near the back. Men and women both perused the racks, shelves and display tables of Wooyoung’s fashions. Seeing a mannequin dressed in a pink feathery dress with sparkling boots, you realized Wooyoung took his fashion seriously. Every article of clothing you saw looked like a work of art. Everything from the everyday wear to nights out on the town to elegant formal events hung on the walls. He made clothes catered to every fashion trend and style. You admired it.

“These are beautiful,” Linette gasped, taking up a satin magenta halter top. “Don't you think so, Mistress?”

“Very,” you answered. “It's a great color for you.”

“You think so?” She held it close to her body to test it.

“Definitely. Get it.”

“Get it?”

“Yeah, Go grab a basket and pick stuff you like. You can't go everywhere in that uniform.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” you said, laughing softly. “I mean it.”

Linette’s eyes lit up, and she hugged you. Jongho took her to browse while Kyra brought you to the back of the store. Through a velvet curtain, you found yourself in what appeared to be Wooyoung’s work room. A mannequin body wearing several layers of silk and cloth embellished with beads stood in one corner, while another wore the petticoat and bottom half of an 18th century dress. On an angled table, he’d left a current design surrounded by several pencils, charcoal, and paints. You could tell he spent a lot of time here by the used coffee mugs and the pillows on the couch. Wooyoung took his work seriously.

“Master?” Kyra called out softly to a room divider, “Lady YN is here.”

“Wonderful! I’ll be with her in a moment!”

Wooyoung led an older woman out from behind the divider. Wearing a close fitting dress adorned with gold and aquamarine gems stood a demon with copper skin and thick black hair. She examined herself in the mirror, adjusting the jeweled strings around her long horns. Her nose up in the air, she examined herself from all angles. You saw Wooyoung bordering between anxiousness and annoyance, though he hid it from her well.

“Well?” Wooyoung asked, fixing a strap on her shoulder. “What do you think, my lady?”

She gave herself another look over before nodding, “It will have to do I suppose. The gems aren’t exactly where we discussed. I intended to wear this at the black mass, but I’m already three days late to the event. Transport schedules aren’t as organized as they used to be.”

“As I told you, my lady, putting gems that big so close to your waist could be uncomfortable for you,” Wooyoung said in a measured voice. “If you’d like, I can take in the waist more and add smaller stones? We can add a pattern going from hip to sternum here, see?”

“Lady Akura is the hardest woman to please,” Kyra whispered to you. “She seduced one Egyptian pharaoh-just one-centuries ago and now acts like she’s Cleopatra. It’s pathetic.”

“Clearly a woman dressing past her prime,” you replied with a soft laugh.

You turned away from the older demon to the rest of the workroom. On the table, you saw his latest design idea. A faceless female figure stood wearing a violet colored blazer with a pencil skirt, stockings and black heels. It looked classy and refined. Beside it, he drew the same thing in a neon green and black checkered pattern and another in pinstripes. On a separate paper, he’d drawn a group of models in various dresses: a button down shirtdress, a sundress, a wrap dress and a belted chemise one. All of them in different patterns and colors, you saw Wooyoung’s vision right away. His assistants delivered the first half of your new wardrobe a week ago, and already he’d finished the second. Examining more of his designs, it felt like a blast from the past. Your past.

“Ugh, that woman drives me nuts,” you heard him grumble once Lady Akura left. “Nothing ever satisfies her. That gaudy thing has been sitting in here for weeks because every time she comes, she says it's not right. Ugh, she's the worst.” He joined you by the table, “What do you think? Great, huh?”

Wooyoung wore an oversized purple blazer with a light blue lining inside, matching pants and plain shirt. Your desire for your own period is reflected in the stylist’s fashion.

“I thought some professional outfits if you go to an office or just want to look like you mean business,” he said, explaining the first page. “You said you wanted some dresses, so I made a range of different ones. Each one for a different occasion. I haven’t done anything formal since I prefer making formal ones for special occasions.”

“These are fantastic!” you smiled, seeing a crop top and jeans number he’d drawn. “Where’d you get the inspiration from?”

“Just some magazines I had laying in the piles,” he nodded to a door left ajar where you spotted several boxes. “Also from looking at celebrities of the time and demons who’d gone upstairs during the 1980’s. Fashion back then was so progressive compared to the ages before it. There was so much color and fun patterns for me to play with. Like, here,” he pulled up a drawing of you in an off-the-shoulder 3/4th sleeve, “I did a black and white zig-zag pattern. The black would be in sequins, while the white is in regular fabric. It’d really make you stand out. I put out a call to a shoemaker I know, and he’s willing to do some sneakers and heels for you.”

“Amazing!” you looked through more designs, “You should sell some of these in the shop. You'd make a killing for sure.”

“I already have,” he replied. “I have a whole Trendsetter section. The stuff has been flying off the shelves. You should see it! It's all anyone's been talking about, and when I mentioned you'd started it, they became even more interested.”

“Why? I'm nobody important.”

“Did you forget that you're part of the nobility now?” he asked, hand on hip. “For centuries, queens and kings have set the trends of their time. You're a Marchioness, especially from one of Lilith’s children? Psh, everyone is going to want what you're wearing. You wear a red ensemble and tell them red is the new pink, soon everyone will want to wear red. You tell them Diet Coke is the new Pepsi Zero, and people would buy it by the gallon. YN,” he faced you with arms crossed, “I don’t think you get how popular you'll become around here. People will be watching you all the time. They'll want to know everything about you.”

“Like a celebrity?”

“More than a celebrity. Princess Diana, honey. That's who you're going to be around here.”

“Oh please, nobody can top Diana.”

“Maybe not in Hell, since she's an angel and went upstairs, but down here? Oof, get ready.” He moved a bit closer, “Because everyone's going to want a slice of you. Good thing the black mass is pure-bloods and high born only this time. Otherwise, you’d be bitten more than once.” You heard the sultry drop in his voice and saw him scanning your features. “I know I had a bite and wanted to eat the whole thing.”

“Same here,” you turned around to match his energy.

“You know, the masters put in special orders,” he admitted. “I'm not supposed to tell you because it's a surprise, but since you're here we can see if they fit?”

You eyed him closely, “Did they?”

“They did. They're quite beautiful.”

“Alright, sure.”

He walked over to the rack of bagged clothes, rifled around before pulling out three. You noticed the names on the different tags: “Seonghwa” “Hongjoong” “San”. You couldn't think of what reason they'd buy you clothes other than for your affection. When you unzipped Seonghwa’s bag, you saw a white lace bodysuit. It suited his taste completely. You noticed the snakes and roses sewn into the lace, intertwining up and down the front and sides. You snickered when you saw the ‘SH’ worked into the pattern near the crotch. Opening up Hongjoong’s, you saw a deep plum bra and panty set made of smooth satin and lace. The slit across the bra pads barely hid your nipples, which Hongjoong loved. The subtle ‘HJ’ sewn along the panty line did not surprise you either. San’s order was a night dress of pink silk. A tiny white rhinestone ‘S’ sat right underneath the bosom like a brooch.

“They're gorgeous,” you breathed, feeling the soft material. “Did they say what they're for?”

“For when they came back from the black mass,” he said. “They said they wanted you to know they’d never desire anyone as much as you.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you snorted. “It’s a present for me that's really a present for them.” You picked up Seonghwa’s gift, but then decided against it. If anyone knew you'd tried them on, it'd be the one who reads minds. So, you picked up Hongjoong’s next. “This one’s a nice color.”

“Nice material too, but I was working off the top of my head,” he said, “So I'm not a hundred percent sure if they'll fit. You should try them on to see.”

You knew exactly where he planned to take things, and you didn't mind at all. You hung Hongjoong’s set by the mirror, and saw Wooyoung take a seat on the couch. His eyes stayed on you, already undressing you from afar. He'd seen you nude a few times before, and clearly wanted to see you again.

One by one, you unbutton your blouse in the mirror. When you untucked it, you made sure he saw the white bra underneath. Sliding it off your shoulders, you did the same with your pants. You dragged them down your ass, knowing Wooyoung watched intently. He bit the inside of his lip when you removed them to show your pink panties. Feeling desired brought out a new feeling. You swayed your hips, playing with your pantyline the entire time. Wooyoung followed every movement.

“I suppose I should take this off too, right?” you asked, playing with your bra straps. “We can't know the actual size with these on.”

“Yes,” Wooyoung sighed. “Yes, absolutely.”

Smirking, you slid the straps down your shoulders until they tugged at the corners. When they did, you pulled the cotton fabric underneath them. Wooyoung let out a soft whimper once you showed them, biting his tongue. In the secluded room, nothing separating you and Wooyoung but a wooden screen, you couldn't help the knot in your lower half. The workshop did not have an actual door, only a curtain; anyone could enter at any time, which only enhanced your arousal. Squeezing your tits, you teased your nipples in front of him. You imagined someone coming upon you right then, and it added to the sensations. His eyes darkened with lust as you played with them. You could see the wheels turning in his mind; you saw him picturing all the things he’d like to do to you right then. He licked his lips when you wet your fingers to rub on your hard nipple, swallowing when you gave a soft whimper. Once you unclasped your bra, you let him take in your topless form before swaying your hips.

“You're gorgeous, honey,” he breathed, arms resting on the back of the couch. “Insanely gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you said, sliding off your panties. “I get that a lot.”

Wooyoung slumped in his seat when he saw you. With the mirror behind you, he saw the backside just as easily. He walked over to you, picking up the bra from the hanger.

“Let me help you, my lady,” he said in your ear as you faced the mirror again.

You slipped your arms into the straps, seeing him clip it on behind you. His hands sliding to your front, he stuck his hand in the bra to adjust you into it. You gasped and giggled when he squeezed it instead, ending with a pinch that grinded you against him. He did the same to the other side, this time rolling your nipple between his fingers. When he finished, the slits in the bra just barely covered them. No doubt a way for Hongjoong to suck them without taking it off you. Wooyoung’s body now close to yours, the tension between you smoldered. You did your best to let him enjoy touching you, even if you wanted him to do more, but the noise outside reminded you where you were.

“Wooyoung,” you sighed as he kissed up your shoulder to your neck, “Wooyoung, we shouldn’t…”

“Why? Don’t want to be interrupted?” he asked, kissing underneath your ear.

“No, I don’t,” you laughed with the tightness in your stomach.

“But you need to try on the rest, my lady,” he replied, fixing the bra on correctly. “You haven’t put on the panties yet.”

Crotchless panties. You should have known with it being Hongjoong’s design. Wooyoung bent down to help you into them before dragging them up your body. The slow lift up your thighs caused a shudder to run through you. Adjusting them properly, Wooyoung made sure you felt his fingers along the lines and crotch. When he stood back up, he pressed you to him and admired you.

“What do you think?” you sneered, whirling your ass to the bulge hitting between your cheeks.

“You look incredible,” he said, running his hands up and down your stomach. Not quite sliding into the bra slits, but also not touching the crotch either. The feathery touch brought more chills to your center, which he nearly brushed with his hand. “I don’t know how you go a day without a cock in you,” he whispered, letting a hand go to the slit of your underwear. “If you were mine, I’d just chain you to my bed and fuck you whenever I pleased.”

“Is that what you do to little Kyra?” you asked, getting a surprised look from him. “Her collar gave it away.”

“All my assistants have collars.”

“Hers is special. The others have normal leather collars, but she has a velvet diamond one,” you pressed his hand further to your clit, giving a soft moan once a finger touched you. “I bet you fuck her loads. I know I would, if I were you.”

“Kyra is special,” he admitted, “But I like something different every now and then.”

You bit back a moan as a single digit toyed with your clit side to side. Wooyoung watched you wriggle in the mirror, amused by the sudden jolt whenever he grazed your clit. You held onto the arms in front of you for leverage, since you thought you might tip over from the continuous pleasure. Wooyoung brought you to the couch and patted his lap. In the mirror, you saw yourself locked against Wooyoung who put his hands back on your exposed sex. One hand circled your clit slowly, while the other teased your entrance. You sat there looking at it, transfixed by the hands bringing you so much pleasure.

“Like this right here,” he said in your ear. “I’ve been dying to have more of this since the last time. Now that I can fuck your pretty holes, it’s all I want to do.”

“Then fuck them,” you whined.

“I will,” he chuckled. “I will, don’t worry.”

Light and slow, Wooyoung’s fingers barely grazed your clit at times. In the mirror, you saw long fingers running up and down the moistening folds. One hand tenderly grasping your tit, keeping you locked in his lap, Wooyoung kept the same pace the entire time. You bit down on your lip to keep from being too loud, especially with all the people outside, but the hand threatened to break that. You gripped the sides of the couch each time his finger “accidentally” slipped inside you, nails scratching the suede fabric. You couldn’t stop staring. Your vision lined up each emotion with what he was doing to you: zigzags on your clit, fingers pushing deep inside before coming back out, and rolling your nipple painted a sinful image. When he finally slid them back in, you saw how your body adjusted to them. His palm grinding into your clit, the digits in your pussy pushed right to the soft center.

“Fuck!” you cried, knees lifting up at the intense pressure.

“Quiet, my lady,” Wooyoung whispered, “Someone might hear us and come in here. I’d hate to have to stop now. Not when you’re so wet,” he emphasized this with a few quick brushes on your clit before fingering you again.

You knew he was right. Wetting the opposite hand with your juices, Wooyoung pushed the wet fingers past your lips. Sucking on them firmly, he moaned seeing you suck them while he fingered you. You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering too loudly when both hands sunk deep and wriggled around. Eventually, Wooyoung quickened his fingers until you shook in his embrace. The constant pressure of his fingertips pressing your core soon had you quaking, unable to push upwards or grab his hand to use it yourself. The position compromised you in so many ways, but you couldn’t look away from the mirror.

Having gone so long without San, Seonghwa or Hongjoong made you desperate for something, anything. You missed Seonghwa’s smug smirk when you came over his hand and San’s gentle kisses as he slowly fucked into you. Not having Hongjoong tying you to his bed and edging you with his toys made everything else boring in comparison. You wanted them so badly.

With a bit of moving around, Wooyoung managed to undo his pants for you. His cock, already pulsing and throbbing, stood erect against your wet sex. You reached down to rub the thick tip into your clit, the touch making both of you restrain your moans. Grinding up and down, you slid your pussy over the leaking cock in your hand. You wanted to let go. The burning desire to ride him hard and fast came to you each time the tip pushed to your entrance. Wooyoung released you from his grip, and you took this as a sign to finally push him in you. The moment you both connected, shots of relief and frustration hit you at the same time. The relief of finally being full, but the frustration of wanting more. Hands on his knees, you started off with slow, shallow movements. You kept your back arched so he might see himself buried in your cunt, while you watched yourself in the middle.

Tits jiggling as you got faster, you knew how much San would love this. He loved watching you fuck yourself on his cock, content to lay there and grab them or rub your clit for you. You thought of his tanned muscles, and rough hands. Thin eyes full of lust and longing would scan over you as if he might never see you again.

“Bitch,” Wooyoung hissed, slapping your ass harshly. “You’re seriously thinking of someone else while riding me?”

Your eyes widened. Had you really said ‘San’ just now? You couldn’t remember. Your mind totally blanked, lost in the vision of San inside you. A pang of guilt hit you when you realized how messed up that is.

“I’m sorry,” you panted, clenching around him. “It kind of slipped out. I-I…”

“Keep going,” he grabbed your hair to yank your head back. “Keep thinking about him,” he grunted.

“Wha-what?”

“Think about how much bigger he is than me,” he groaned, whirling his hips so his cock moved around in you, “And how he fucks you better.”

‘Wooyoung, I kind of don’t get it…You like that?”

“I ask Kyra to do it all the time,” he lifted you off the chair and onto the floor. Bent over in front of the long mirror, you had a better look at his opened shirt and loose pants. “I ask her to pretend I’m her boyfriend, but she’s cheating on me with somebody else. Do that for me. Tell me how he fucks you. Tell me what he does that’s better.” He grinded against you, hands on your ass. “Tell me you wish I was him right now.”

“I wish he was fucking me right now,” you whimpered, hands curling around the fine rug beneath you. “His dick is so big he nearly splits my ass in half.”

Wooyoung whimpered at this “confession”. He tried keeping quiet as he started pounding you again. He kept his hand in your hair so your back stayed curved. Your eyes meeting his in the mirror, you kept going.

“I miss his tongue on my clit and his fingers inside me,” you murmured. “He always makes me cum before he puts his dick in me. You can’t even make me cum once-”

“-Yes, yes, yes,” he whined. “I can’t make you cum. I’m not good at it.”

“No, you’re fucking not,” you did deflect from this by pushing against him. Your eyes rolled back at his thick length being in you to the hilt. “You don’t even eat me out. It’s all San likes to do. He keeps going even when I’ve already cummed because he likes hearing me squeal from overstimulation.”

“Fuck,” Wooyoung panted at the vivid imagery. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, both hands in your hair as he charged. “I’m sorry I’m not-n-not good enough.”

“You never will be,” you huffed, eyes rolling back as he angled himself deeper. “I miss him so…so fucking much.”

“Tell me what you miss, baby.”

“I miss how he kisses me,” you admitted. “I miss the way he touches me so carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll break me. I miss him calling me ‘Darling’. I miss his tongue and his fingers.”

You missed so many other things. “And his cock?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, you miss that too? You prefer it over mine right now?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said through clenched jaws. They went in time with his deep thrusts, the motion driving you wild. “I want to be fucking him so badly, but here-her-here I am wi-with you.”

Cuckolding never reached the top of your favorite kinks, but you quite enjoyed it with Wooyoung. You’d been about to tell him more when a voice called out from behind the divider.

“Master?” It was Kyra.

“Yes?” Wooyoung said with a bite of annoyance. Your hips didn’t stop. You kept going, knowing any second that girl would turn the corner to see you both there.

“Lady Akura wants to see you,” she said. “She says she’s just had an idea for the dress.”

“Tell her to make an appointment tomorrow,” he said. “She had her-her chance.”

“She’s insisting, sir.”

“I don’t care.” You saw his eyes fall shut as your walls squeezed him in every push. You felt your orgasm fast approaching, especially with the rug brushing your sensitive nipples and Wooyoung reaching around to your clit. “She can come back to-tomorrow. I’m busy…very busy.”

You thought about San again. Right now, his muscles would’ve tensed, his cock pulsating against your tight walls and shaking from his oncoming orgasm. He wouldn’t bother talking to Kyra; he’d be too focused on you. You forced Wooyoung’s hand to stay between your thighs, rubbing it up and down as you stuffed a random bolt of cloth between your teeth. Using the energy from your climax to bite down, you kept back to high-pitched moans you’d normally let out. In the mirror, you saw Wooyoung close to finishing.

“But, Master, I don’t think she’ll leave until she sees you.”

Wooyoung did not answer her. He only fucked into you faster, using your sex to finish deep inside you. His hot cum shooting far inside you, fingers and cock working your clit, kept you going.

“Master?”

“Tell her I will call her later,” Wooyoung grunted, giving a few more thrusts before stopping. “I said I’m busy.”

When he withdrew, you felt globs of cum drip from you and onto your new panties. You quivered as he used the head to fuck them back inside.

“Master, please don’t make me talk to that woman,” Kyra pleaded. “She’s so mean, especially to us assistants.”

You gingerly moved out of your position, feeling your joints stuck for a moment, then turned around. Taking him in your hand, you slid the wet head over your tongue. Facing the mirror sideways, Wooyoung had a perfect view of your mouth on his cock. The sensitive muscle twitches at this, which makes you take more of it. Little beads of precum spilled from him as you licked and sucked him clean. You’d get a second round either now or later.

“Get over it,” Wooyoung said, transfixed by his cock in your mouth.

“Master-”

“-I am busy with Lady YN,” he snapped. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“Kyra,” you finally spoke up, spitting cum back onto Wooyoung’s cock, “Tell Lady Akura he’ll be out in a moment. He’s helping me try on this new lingerie set and it’s, psh, it’s just complicated. There’s so many pieces to it. I swear,” you stroked Wooyoung slowly, reaching for his balls every other time, “It’s like you need an engineering degree to figure it out.”

“Um, alright,” she conceded, “I will let her know.”

You waited for her to leave, then knelt up to Wooyoung. You considered kissing him, but then you’d be there all day.

“You certainly have interesting tastes, Mr. Jung,” you taunted playfully, removing the soiled panties. “I never pegged you for a cuckolding guy.”

He shrugged, putting them aside as he wiped himself with a cloth. “It’s hot to me. It’s cool if you’re not into it that much though. It’s not a necessity to me. I knew you were missing your boyfriends, so I thought you might want to think of them while fucking me.”

“I’m sorry about that,” you said. “I did enjoy it with you. It kind of came up out of nowhere.”

“I know,” he smirked, “It ended up working out for me. I’d love to do it again sometime.”

The both of you stood up, and cleaned yourselves as best as possible. You knew you’d pass out when you got home. The aching in your thighs and knees told you that when you walked back into the store. By the counter, Lady Akura waited impatiently for Wooyoung.

“She could give my grandfather a run for his money,” Wooyoung grimaced. “I’ll have someone bring your wardrobe tomorrow morning.”

“I look forward to it,” you replied with a wink.

Blowing him a kiss, you walked away to see Linette already near the door with a few purple and gold shopping bags. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who got a bit of retail therapy.

“I can’t wait to show you what I got,” she beamed at you when you approached. “Everything is so cute. I’m going to need reasons to put them on, but oh my god, they’re gorgeous.”

“And they’ll look even better on you,” you smiled.

“How was the wardrobe?” she asked as you both left the shop.

“The stuff Wooyoung showed me is divine,” you told her. “Absolutely amazing.”

You both slipped into your seats, and Jongho closed the door. The moment he did, Linette turned to you. “Clothes weren’t the only thing you two discussed, were they?”

You held back your laugh as you said, “Nope.”

“Mistress!” Linette gasped in surprise, then joined you in laughing. “With Wooyoung?”

“He started it,” you replied. “I was fine trying on the lingerie the masters bought me, and then things got hot,” you shrugged. “He’s apparently into cuckolding.”

“Who’s into cuckolding?” Jongho asked, getting into the seats facing you.

“Wooyoung,” you answered.

“Ah, I thought I smelled him on you.”

“There really is no hiding anything around here, is there?”

“Not a thing,” he confirmed with a teasing smile. “So, did Kyra watch or what? What happened?”

You told them everything on the way home. Your encounter with Wooyoung stuck with you the rest of the day. You had enjoyed every second, but you did feel bad thinking of somebody else. It wasn’t the first time you’d done that in your life, yet you hadn’t cared then. Returning home, Linette showed you her purchases while you lounged on your bed. Everything she bought looked incredible on her.

Wooyoung was a real master of his craft.

****

A/N: One of the shorter ones, I hope you guys still liked it! I did struggle with this one for a bit haha Lady didn't go to the Black Mass, but perhaps she might get her own invitation?

Not before meeting the Queen of Flowers herself, Lilith ;)

#pirateeznet #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #jung wooyoung #wooyoung ateez #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x yn #ateez smut

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llamagoddessofficial · 15 hours

Text

A lovely continuation commission from @valacre. You love your husband Nightmare as he is - but there's a lot more to him than what is now, isn't there?

---

The record player moved on to the next song. Your recognition of the song roused you, faintly, from your almost-sleep... a familiar, emotive, reflective piano piece. You didn’t open your eyes just yet; you could feel a small smile forming on your lips.

He’s playing Debussy? He must be in a good mood.

You were holding Nightmare’s hand up against your face tonight, tucked up to your ears under the covers, cheek pressed stubbornly to the top of his palm. You spent many nights falling asleep this way. Nightmare didn’t need to sleep, it was a luxury he could indulge in if he felt inclined, but he often chose instead to bring his books and quills to bed with him (propped against his knees) and use the precious quiet hours to read and write. You would fall asleep tucked up to his side... most often with one of his hands commandeered by your own, as your just payment for not receiving your usual embrace from him.

You didn’t mind this arrangement. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. There was something about him being awake that made your sleep so deep, so restful - you felt so safe. He could watch over you, right? It was as if knowing he was awake for you made all your anxieties melt away. He would sometimes play music to fill the silence, and the tunes would lull you into comfortable and romantic dreams.

You very minutely nuzzled his hand as the song drew to a close. After a few beats of silence, the record player skipped on. You didn’t recognise this one, but it was distinctly Debussy again... you couldn’t help but open your eyes.

...

The hand you were holding was white.

You gasped, a loud and sharp breath - you snatched your hand away and sat bolt upright in bed. The blanket tumbled off you.

Again?!

Your vision focused.

... Nightmare, despite the look of startlement and concern on his face, appeared completely normal. His bones were black, faintly iridescent and glistening as they always were; his eyelight’s cyan light was bright and comforting. Handsome as ever, too.

“what is it?” he asked, gently, putting his quill down. “bad dream?”

... You didn’t know what to say. Let alone how to say it. After searching his face for anything unfamiliar, and finding nothing but the man you loved, you gradually lowered yourself back down into bed. You tried to breathe slowly, calming from the sudden bout of panic you’d caused yourself. Your heart was beating much too hard.

“I... Yes. I’m alright.” You definitely didn’t sound alright. You bought the covers back up over your shoulders.

His face shifted. His voice was soft, as was his gaze, you could tell he was being careful to keep his tone non-confrontational.

He slowly closed his book. “no you aren’t.”

You shifted uncomfortably at the twinge in his tone. Nightmare, a man who could taste lies, obviously didn’t like being lied to. Even small ones.

“I’m sorry. I... don’t really know what’s wrong.”

You stared at some of the fine stitching around the edges of the pillow. You were struggling to get comfortable again, your whole body still tense. This wasn’t the first time your mind had supplied you with images of a skeleton you didn’t recognise.

Lately, you’d been having the most intense, vivid, immensely strange dreams. You never fully recalled them when you awoke, but certain aspects would remain in your head like the afterimage of a powerful flash. Symbols of the moon, silver, flickers of purple. The warmth that comes from drinking herbal tea. Laughter, the smell of fire, a tree stump.

... Then the skeleton himself, the subject of your confusion. Tall and elegant, clad in faded silks, with a kind smile but the aura of something that grown accustomed to unspeakable grief. Soft lilac eyelights that were deep and overflowing with power. You couldn’t remember his face; you could, however, remember that his expression was warm. A smile that made your chest ache. He would look at you as if he owed you a great debt; no matter how much you called out he wouldn’t come any closer. He would open his mouth, but there would be only silence, like he was behind a thick wall of water.

You would’ve ignored the dreams. Were they not so vivid - and so recurring. You felt as if something was quietly watching you. But what? And how could you possibly reply, if you couldn’t even remember what happened?

... You were broken out of the memory by Nightmare moving. His tentacles picked up his book, pen and ink, placing them on the bedside table; as he did, he shuffled to lay down beside you. He drew you against him. Perhaps he could tell that whatever was wrong, it needed more than words.

You gratefully accepted the embrace. Your cheek tucked against his collarbone, his arm and a tentacle looped over your middle. When his huge arms were around you, you felt so safe, you knew heads would roll before he allowed anything in the world to touch you.

“better?” he murmured.

You were choked up. You didn’t know why. “Mhm.”

“you know you can tell me anything.”

“Of course. I just need to find the words to tell you, first.”

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t push. i’m one to talk about not telling the whole truth, hm?”

You couldn’t help but giggle. He clearly liked that... against his chest, you could hear his Soul faintly humming. Probably by instinct, a second tentacle tucked over you, this time curling around your legs.

The record player moved on to the next song. His claws were gently moving in your hair, wrapping a specific curl around his phalange and letting it go over and over again. He’d always been enamoured with how it looked when it was down; it was a sight he was only privy to in moments like these, with the covers pulled up over both of you and the dark of night filling the bedroom.

Your voice broke the comfortable silence once you recognised the song playing. You weren’t laughing at him, but you were laughing, just a little. “More Debussy? Someone’s feeling romantic.”

He sounded like he was smiling. “indulge me,”

“I think it would be nice to learn how to play this one.” It felt good to talk about something else.

“it’s not as hard as you’d expect.”

...

You did look up at him this time, surprised, fabric rustling as you tilted your head up. “You play piano?”

“mhm.” His eye was wide and fuzzy, nigh filling up his entire socket, looking down at you with an immense softness. His hand moved to cup your face, massive palm to your cheek, claws curling around the back of your head. “it’s been a while. but i’m sure i could shake off the rust.”

“I didn’t know you knew how.”

“honestly, dear?” He hummed. “until this moment, i had forgotten i could.”

“You always struck me as more of a string player. Violin, perhaps. Or cello.”

“ah... violin, i never particularly fell in love with. but i am fond of the cello.” His voice was so satin-like, if you closed your eyes you could almost feel it caressing you. “i’ve picked up a fair few instruments, in my time. do you play?”

You rested your cheek back against his collarbone. Just how many instruments did he know? He was something of royalty, wasn’t he? Perhaps his childhood had involved a prince’s education. He would’ve seen a fair few beautiful and expensive instruments. His hand traced over your shoulder and down your spine, lovingly and almost reverently, settling to the small of your back. Despite all your time together, Nightmare still touched you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“I floundered at piano as a child. My teacher always told me I was too airheaded to be any good.”

“she sounds unpleasant.”

“Mh... she wasn’t all wrong.” You thought back to the woman that had frightened you so much as a child. “I didn’t make her life very easy; I never practised, I was always busy playing gardener. She would scold me for coming to practise with dirt under my fingernails. Maybe if I’d concentrated, I would’ve been better.”

“well, it doesn’t matter now.” He turned his face slightly, and kissed the top of your head. “i didn’t marry you for your musical talent.”

“That may be true. But you didn’t marry me for great reasons at first, either.”

“my reasoning was questionable at the time, yes. i had no idea how to process what i was feeling.” His grin was audible once again. “but it would be a bald-faced lie to say i regret it. i’ll never regret making sure you were all mine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you the romantic?”

He chuckled. You didn’t realise how much the short conversation had soothed you. Perhaps that was his plan. You were getting sleepier and sleepier, forgetting entirely what had startled you.

“I like these songs.” Your eyelids were drooping. “You have good taste in music.”

“music was... the only thing dream and i ever agreed on.”

... You stilled. Had... had he ever volunteered information about his brother before? Outside of when the spectre of the topic was already looming over both of you?

...

“... You should play me something, tomorrow.”

“anything for you.”

///---///

Nightmare waited until you were asleep to stop petting your hair. He only relaxed once the expression completely melted from your face. Instead, he just let his claws rest beside your head, his eyelight wandering over your features. Doing its best to memorise every curve.

He could never quite draw your smile right. The rest of you, he could create from memory, his claws knew the shape of your body well - your cheek and the arch of your brow, the little dip where your neck and shoulders met, the soft skin of your stomach and back... when he indulged himself in drawing you, those were the parts he could recreate with the effortlessness of total familiarity. The locked box in his study had more than its fair share of proof.

But your smile? He just couldn’t get it. No matter how badly he wanted to. Perhaps it just wasn’t something that could be contained. Perhaps there was a lesson there, for him, in the thing he loved most being the one thing he couldn’t capture forever.

... Alas. He knew he would keep trying, anyway. He was nothing if not greedy.

He kissed your knuckles. He would apologise again in the morning. It was unkind of him to pick you up on not telling the truth - especially when you were so incredibly patient with his endless lies by omission.

He wasn’t telling you everything about his dreams, either.

He’d grown so comfortable around you that many nights, when you slept, his mind would unconsciously reach out and connect to yours - his Soul seemed to see you as an extension of himself, so it would naturally draw you closer. Usually that meant nothing more than moving far more easily into your dreams.

... But recently, something very strange had been happening.

He would feel you in his mind.

It was the first time someone had ever entered his dream. It was much more pleasant than he imagined, though that was probably because it was you. So physically close to him, and so emotionally close, for you moving into his dream would be as easy as passing through a veil. He wouldn’t even notice you were there; not until he felt your presence in places and thoughts he hadn’t let himself access for years.

Something within him was... well, he didn’t know. Moving, perhaps? Shifting. He didn't like it. Whatever it was, it made him stop to consider, for the first time in a long time, what he really... was.

He wasn’t his old self. He knew that for sure. He wasn’t Night, but he wasn’t purely Corruption either. Unlike what his brother constantly insisted, Nightmare wasn’t some poor innocent skeleton trapped by a cartoonishly evil Corruption - his lip curled at the thought. Dream’s blind belief was as insulting as it was patronising. Nightmare knew what he was doing, he was the master of his destiny. Nightmare was something new, something different. A combination that was stronger than either entity could’ve been alone. He was better.

... He touched your face again, absentmindedly.

Both parts of him liked you. There was no question about that. The Corruption adored you, but it loved in an ancient and consuming way - it wanted you with them forever, a bird in a cage. The Corruption whispered longingly about how, if only they moved with more conviction, nobody but him would ever see or touch you again. Was he allured by that? Yes. But Night knew that love like consumption would eat you alive. It was the lingering presence of his old mind, the moderation and empathy of his old self, that gave Nightmare the tools to love you in a way that would make you happy.

He sighed. Both parts of him loved you... that was the problem. The lines were blurring.

... He could feel himself changing. Something old, rising to the surface. It was troubling. When the Corruption first took over, Night all but became comatose, healing from the damage done to him. As promised, the Corruption protected him. And even once Night did recover, he had absolutely no desire to return to full control, not after what he’d been through. He was afraid... remaining deep inside, protected from a world he saw as universally cruel. Protected by a wall of viscous black darkness.

Then you came along. Walls that he had spent centuries building, crumbling down from just a glance. Were he not so hopelessly in love, he might’ve considered his own behaviour rather pathetic.

He wasn’t sure what to do about it just yet. He pressed his nasal cavity against your hair. He would think about it more in the morning. For now, he just wanted to do the thing he enjoyed most; holding you and forgetting absolutely everything.

Sometimes, when he slept with you in his arms, he felt like there was nothing in the world to be afraid of.

///---///

Nothing felt off, when you woke up. You stretched your toes, hummed... with light peeking through the curtains, you decided to roll over and see if your husband was awake.

The skeleton facing you wasn’t Nightmare.

When you saw white bones again, the first thing you did was freeze. Your breathing stopped, you stared blankly - the skeleton asleep opposite you appeared startlingly like Dream. The same cheekbones, the same jaw, the same soft expression. But there were differences both minute and glaring. Dream’s face had a brightness and sharpness to it. This skeleton looked softer.

... And when blinking a few times didn’t make him go back to normal, you leapt out of bed.

His sockets opened. Purple.

Instantly, seemingly before he’d even realised you’d jumped away, he jolted, and a look of fear appeared on his face. He sat bolt upright in the bed, lifting up his hands to his face - the sight of his own bones made that look only worsen into one of outright panic, purple eyelights shrinking down into quivering dark pinpricks, deep lines of fear cutting between his brows and around his nasal cavity. He staggered out of bed...

... And over to the mirror.

It took a split second for him to look upon his face. You could see him, reflected over his own shoulder back at you. You watched as he took only a split second to see his own terrified profile staring back at him.

You had never seen so much fear strike face before.

A flash within his sockets, like an amethyst turning in the light. He reared back and punched the mirror, shattering it, the force carrying through and visibly fracturing the wall beneath. You let out a tiny yelp as glittering shards showered the bedroom floor - you moved back mostly out of confusion, but also no small amount of fear, until your tailbone bumped Nightmare’s desk. Pieces of the mirror were still peeling off the frame and dropping to the stone tiles even as the stranger put his hands over his face, stumbling to the side until he hit the wall.

“no. no,” he slid slowly down it, surrounded by shards of mirror. “no, no, no, no...”

...

You could scarcely believe it. But you knew that voice. You knew those movements. As you stared across the room at the ‘stranger’, instincts kicked in. Despite your utter disbelief, the word left your lips anyway.

“N... Nightmare?”

He lifted his face from his hands, staring at you. You gasped, quietly; yes, there he was, it couldn’t be anyone else but him. No wonder you thought he resembled Dream, the layers of tar had vanished but everything you had kissed a hundred times before was still there.

“val,” he breathed. The way he looked at you - confused, but pleading for help - you knew it was him. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

You rushed back across the room, over to him, to his side. You didn’t care about the glass. It was so, so bizarre to see him with both sockets, your eyes darted back and forth, unsure of where to look. You knelt before him; he was back to staring with horror at his violently shaking hands.

“what’s happening to me?” His voice was different, too. It didn’t have its usual commanding weight and depth. It was still distinctly him, but it felt as if his voice had been halved somehow. Gentler, higher, closer to the surface. “why... no, no, i can’t be...”

“Shh, shh.” You didn’t know if he wanted to be touched or not, so your hands hovered around his shoulders. Now that you knew it was him, you weren’t frightened anymore. You did your best to keep your own voice calm. “You’re alright. Nightmare, you’re alright.”

The lilac of his eyelights was such a beautiful, gentle colour. Though it was soft, and clearly suited his features, you were so accustomed to comforting cyan that you were unsure of what to make of it.

He was shaking all over. His voice cracked when he talked. “i don’t know what’s going on,”

“We don’t need to know what’s going on.” The more you gently spoke, the more he appeared to ease, his hands gradually coming away from his face. His eyelights, locked onto you, weren't quite so small. “We’re both fine. Take deep breaths, okay?”

You reached out, placing a hand on his cheekbone. It felt different. Smoother. But that was the extent of the differences, your hand still fit against his face like a puzzle piece.

He sucked in a sharp breath. For a moment you feared you had hurt him - were his bones sensitive like this? - you made to pull away. But Nightmare grabbed your hand with his, pressing it tight to his cheekbone.

“i-i...” He wasn’t looking at you. He was looking into the middle distance, a lost expression on his new face. Through you.

“Night?”

“i-i never thought i’d be able to...” He sounded choked. “like this...”

... His sockets... filled up with tears. They were lilac too. Shimmering like gems as his eyelights reflected in them.

Instinctively, you placed your other hand on his other cheek. He gripped that one and held it to him just as tightly, his skull sandwiched between your palms. He took in a deep, shuddering breath...

... And then openly started to weep.

You were shocked. Completely shocked. His chest fluttered, the sound was small but deafening. How many times had Nightmare cried around you? Once, for certain, perhaps twice if you were generous and counted the time you suspected he cried but had not seen tears. And even when he did cry, he always hid his face like he was ashamed, tucking into your shoulder or turning away.

But here he was. Tears moving down his cheekbones. Shaking, right in front of you; clutching your hands and sobbing.

Well. You didn’t need to pause much longer. You leant in, using your hold on his face to press a kiss to his skull. He let go of your hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in, with you kneeling between his legs it was a slightly awkward posture but neither of you really had it in you to care. You just held him.

He smelled the same. Like home.

Not long passed, he had always been adept at self-control. By the time you were getting used to the sound of his soft cries, they were already fading, replaced with the deep slow breaths he took to regain himself. Though the sounds ebbed away, the tears continued to run down his face like the tide.

... You had absolutely no idea what was going on. But at least he was alright. You leaned back, using your thumb to wipe at his cheekbone. He leaned into your touch.

...

... Suddenly, he gasped. It made you jump. He looked down to the floor - “the mirror. your feet,”

Before you could do more than open your mouth, his arms moved around you, he stood; you were lifted clean off the floor. Even missing half his mass, he was still so strong. As easily as ever, he carried you to the bed, sitting you down and quickly kneeling - despite the tears still visibly staining his cheekbones he only had worry for you scrawled across his face. He took one of your feet in his hands, checking for cuts, for blood, for damage.

The care in his eyelights... you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to recognise him.

... You had completely forgotten about the shards of glass on the floor. Now that you followed his gaze down, you could see little pinpricks of red, staining the white of the nightgown around your knees. “O-oh,” was all you managed to say.

He didn’t respond. He just obsessively checked you for injuries. His hands felt... more textured than usual? Like a once-smooth stone was now mottled and aged. He moved up to your knees, lifting the hem of the nightgown over them, looking with that telltale frown on his face. He couldn’t have looked more like his old self, with that grimace.

He exhaled, slowly. “... okay. you’re fine. by some miracle, your feet missed everything.”

“And my knees?”

“just some small cuts.” He carefully pulled the hem back down. “the nightgown must’ve stopped anything from embedding. they’ll heal fine.”

He let his hands linger on your legs, staring into empty space again the moment he seemed to slip. He still looked troubled. Troubled - but not panicking anymore.

...

“Nightmare.” You spoke eventually. “You know I don’t usually ask you personal questions.”

Despite his clearly fraught state, cheekbones stained by tears, a little laugh broke out of him when he looked back up at you. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too.

“i-i know, i know. i think i have some explaining to do, don’t i?”

You reached out your arm - without a single word needing to be spoken, he took your hand and placed it against his cheekbone again. He sighed.

“You’re the skeleton I was dreaming about.”

“i never thought this would happen. i never thought i would be like this again.”

“Again?”

...

He (clearly somewhat reluctantly) let go of your hand, standing, slowly shuffling to sit beside you on the bed. He appeared unsteady on his feet. The light from the window was catching in the shards of mirror on the floor, casting tiny freckles of light across his face; he looked... remarkably handsome. He always did, of course, but especially so like this. You felt your chest get a little tight.

“it is how i used to look. this is how i used to be.”

You tilted your head. You took in everything, eyelights, teeth, mouth. You thought about what the Nightmare you knew looked like - the collapsed socket, the dripping smile, the tentacles. The viscous black fluid covering him from head to toe.

“That’s... quite the transformation,” you murmured.

He nodded. “indeed. i used to be a different person. more like dream. but that person... entered a contract with another entity. the two of them combined, and became the person you know.”

“Hm.”

“perhaps symbiosis is a better term. nightmare was attacked by people who didn’t understand the role he played. they saw dream and nightmare, ‘good’ and ‘evil’, and placed blame on the latter for everything wrong with their lives.” He spoke about the event as if it had all occurred to someone else entirely. As if he thought nothing of it; as if he was fine. “nightmare gave his body, and the corruption gave its power. that was the deal that created me. a place to be powerful, and in return, the power to never be hurt again.”

“Corruption?” You were immediately concerned. "Nightmare,"

... He looked at you. His face was loving, he looked amused. It was nice to see a more positive emotion on him. “that’s just its name, dear.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very trustworthy name.”

“you’re married to a man called nightmare.”

“I,” ... you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Alright, touché.”

He chuckled. He sounded so much younger. Stars, it was strange to see him this way; like a loved one coming home after shaving off all their hair or losing a vast amount of weight. Though you logically knew it was him, and you could see him so clearly within all the mannerisms of the skeleton in front of you, there was something so jarring about expecting your Nightmare and seeing another’s face staring back at you.

“I think I understand somewhat. Are you... the ‘past’ version of you right now, then?”

“... i... no.” He shook his head. “i’m still me. i can still feel everything. but the corruption has... receded. it’s been at the front for so long. it’s never done this before. i don’t know what to do.”

“Do you think you’ll turn back again soon?”

...

His eyelights widened, ever so slightly. Faint wisps of violet coloured the high edges of his cheekbones.

“you don’t prefer this form?”

You flustered - how could you say something like that? Especially when he was clearly so upset by his transformation. He smashes a mirror in front of you, and you openly express you prefer his previous body to this one? “I-I don’t mean I don’t like you like this! Of course I do,”

“darling,” he took your hand and squeezed it, cutting off your blabbering. “i like my other body more, too.”

“Y-you do?”

Smiles suited him far more. “mhm. i’m not as strong, this way. and the absence of my tentacles is noticeable. i keep wanting to hold more of you, but i simply don’t have the dexterity.”

“I just...” You exhaled, slowly, eyes trailing over his sockets and nasal ridge and jaw. “Honestly, I really miss your normal face.”

“... normal,” he hummed. It was a pleased hum.

“Well - it’s alright. Regardless of what body you’re in, you’re very handsome.”

His smile sharpened. All of a sudden, he looked like a preened bird. It was hard work not to roll your eyes; all that crying, all that vulnerability and fear, but it was clear from that grin that this was very much the same man that you had gone to bed with hours before.

“hmm. so i’m handsome to you either way? i like this conversation very much.”

“Oh you would, wouldn’t you?”

“i think i understand now.”

The sudden softness of his voice caught you off guard. You leaned back a little, to gauge his expression. He was smiling at you so fondly now.

“the deal i made. nightmare... the corruption promised no one would ever hurt him again. i wonder if...”

“... If?”

“i wonder if, for the first time since making the deal... i fear nothing.”

... You couldn’t honestly imagine Nightmare fearing anything. You had yet to meet anyone who considered your husband an equal, let alone an inferior; even Dream, his own brother, had left at the first sign of fury. Entities who caused no small amount of strife, like Killer, begged you to assure them that Nightmare wouldn’t kill them.

Then again. How much pain would someone have to go through, to become that vicious to the world around them?

You leant toward him. He immediately reciprocated the movement, touching his forehead against yours. He sighed.

“touching you, in this form... it’s...”

He trailed off. You didn’t make him finish. “You feel so different. So similar, too. It’s a little jarring.”

“i’m glad you prefer me as i am.”

“Of course I do. I married you.”

He snickered. “despite all the flaws?”

“Not despite.” It was your turn to comfortingly brush your thumb over the top of his palm. “Not despite, at all.”

“... you truly prefer my ‘normal’ form?” he asked, “even though this one is so much... cleaner?”

“You’re the one who can taste lies. You tell me.”

He chuckled. His sockets closed.

“i want to stay like this. for a while.”

“As long as you need.” You closed your eyes, too. Now that the adrenaline of the situation had settled, you could feel your sleepiness catching up with you.

“... i love you.”

“I love you too.”

...

You felt the cyan-blue light on your eyelids long before you opened them.

#commisions #he craves the love he never got before #aka: hes such a good boy and we love him!!!!

147 notes · View notes

suguwu · 15 hours

Text

moon eater I four

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: thank you to everyone who sponsored this fic for fics for gaza's initiative! i appreciate it more than i could ever say. enjoy the chapter!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy.

wc: 4.5k

The afternoon lengthens. The sun’s rays stretch across the vastness of the Dandelion Sea, bathing the fields in light, catching in the crystalline fluff of each flower, nature’s finest prism. Diluc watches as you kneel among them, carefully plucking a few flowers that haven’t yet faded into fluffballs. Their blossoms shine golden in your hands, little suns fallen from the sky. You gather them gracefully, piling them up in the cradle of your arms.

He’s not sure what you’re doing; you haven’t bothered to inform him. Still, he’s content enough to watch you work. There’s something hypnotizing about the way your hands move, slipping through stems to pinch the blooms off with deft surety.

(The riverbank was muddy. The water swelled at its edges, cold and clear. Diluc saw the shadows of fish just beneath the surface, their fins swaying gracefully with the current, scales flashing like fireworks when they caught the light just right. The summer sun shone hot, the scalding rays making sweat bead up at the nape of his neck, but the mud was cool against his bare feet.

You crouched on the bank, scooping up mud with careful fingers. He settled beside you, balancing on his haunches, but you didn’t look up. He watched as you shaped the mud deftly, building a structure he couldn’t quite make out.

He almost asked, but when he glanced at you, the look on your face stopped him in his tracks. Your eyes were knife-sharp as you concentrated, but joy shone through you, the sun cutting through clouds. He subsided, content to simply watch your delight.

You worked steadily, sometimes letting the mud drip into wavy patterns, as sinuous as a snake, winding through the structure the way the river cut through the mountains. Diluc liked the way your hands moved, delicate but sure.

He thought he could watch you forever.)

You hum as you pick another sunny bloom, running the pad of your finger over the petals of it. Then you push to your feet and head back to where Diluc is leaning against a tree. The dandelions sway as you pick your way through them, a few loose seeds rising through the air.

Diluc shifts as you settle on the blanket you’d spread out. The dandelions tumble from your arms to pile up like fool’s gold, glinting brightly even in the shade. You pick up a few blooms and start to knot them, weaving them together, your fingers a loom. Your wedding ring glints with each movement.

“Will you help?” you ask, not looking up.

Diluc stiffens. “How?”

You glance up at him, that rosebud smile blooming on your lips. “Come sit,” you say.

He hesitates for a breath. You watch him serenely, your face a still pond, not even a ripple to betray your thoughts. With a sigh, he uncrosses his arms and pushes off of the tree. He settles across from you on the blanket.

“Give me your hand,” you say.

He balks. “Why?”

“So I can cut it off.”

He rolls his eyes before he can stop himself; you laugh, the sound catching in the breeze and swirling around him.

“C’mon, then,” you say, reaching out, palm up.

He stares for a breath. He thinks of an altar carved of flesh and bone, a place to lay everything he has to give. Then he reaches out, setting his gloved hand in yours.

You curl your fingers around his. He wonders if your skin would be cool against his, a snowmelt touch. He thinks it likely, but he’s glad for the protection of his glove. His hands are gnarled with scars and burns, his sins made manifest; they would catch against your softer skin, scrape across it. He doesn’t think he could bear it.

He watches as you start to wind a dandelion stem around one of his fingers, weaving another stem through it before pulling them towards yourself. You do it again. By the third time, he realizes what you’re doing as a dandelion chain—made thick by the way you’ve woven it, three blooms across—starts to wind around your wrist, each golden blossom a small sun against your skin.

“A crown?” he asks.

You peer at him through your lashes.

“It could be,” you say. “I haven’t decided yet. It’s for Anatol’s daughter. I promised I’d make her something.”

“Anatol?”

“One of the Fatui diplomats,” you say, still weaving dandelions together. “He was stationed in Liyue previously, so we know each other well.”

Diluc tenses. He almost curls his hand into a fist, but he catches himself at the last second, unwilling to ruin the flower you currently have wound around his finger. “I see,” he says. “You work closely with the Fatui delegation in Liyue?”

You hum. “From time to time.”

“How often?”

You glance up at him again. Your eyes gleam in the sunlight, knife-sharp, an autopsy cut. “Thinking of taking up diplomacy, are we? I must say, I’m not sure you have the temperament for it.”

“Merely curious.”

You thumb at the stem wound around his fingertip; it vibrates softly, a plucked harp string. He can’t parse your expression. The smile on your lips isn’t a rosebud curve. It’s something harder, the edge of the crescent moon, a fishhook of a thing. It sinks into him, buries itself beneath his skin.

“It’s funny,” you say softly. “I think you’re more curious about my work than you are about me.”

Diluc winces. “That’s not—”

“It’s fine, though,” you say. “I know that it’s just a marriage of convenience. Though I hope we can be friends.”

His stomach twists. “Friends,” he echoes.

“If you’re amenable to it.”

He nods, a little sharper than he means to. “Of course.”

Your smile softens. “Good.”

Before he can say anything else, you hum, tying off the end of the dandelion chain with nimble fingers. “There,” you say. “That should do it.”

He pulls his hand back as you wind the chain securely around your wrist, a bracelet of little suns. There’s still a pile of unused flowers on the blanket; you scoop them into your arms before setting them to the side.

Diluc helps you fold the blanket up. Your fingertips brush and he wonders again what your skin would feel like. He shakes the thought loose and concentrates on helping you pack up. It doesn’t take long between the two of you.

“Let’s bring these,” you say, gathering up the extra blossoms again. They spill across your arms in a golden river, sweet and bright. “Lisa uses them for potions, sometimes.”

“There’s room in the saddlebags. My mare’s at the edge of the Sea.”

You nod and the two of you make your way through the Sea. Diluc’s mare huffs as you come into view, tugging lightly at her tether. He murmurs to her, stroking along her flank before checking that the saddle hasn’t loosened.

“What’s her name?” you ask.

“Daybreak.”

“Pretty name.”

“My father named her. He said I couldn’t be trusted.”

You laugh. “Really?”

“Apparently I’m bad at names.”

“What would you have named her?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You look like you’re going to say something, but Daybreak noses at you, searching for treats, and you coo over her instead. Diluc makes a note to give her an apple in the stables; he’s not sure he could bear to admit his chosen name to you. He lets you pet her for a bit before he nudges her away.

“We should be off,” he says. “The sun will start to set soon.”

“Alright,” you say, tucking the rest of the dandelions into the saddlebag carefully. “I’m ready.”

Diluc helps you up onto Daybreak before taking her reins to start to lead her down the path.

“Diluc,” you say. “Surely you don’t expect me to ride while you walk.”

“It is what I intended.”

You peer down at him. The sun haloes you, crowning you with divine fire. He has to look away.

You sigh. “If you’re walking, I might as well walk too.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Then ride with me. At least then we’ll get to the city before dusk.”

He hesitates. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He sighs and hands you the reins. He swings himself onto Daybreak with one graceful movement; he hears your breath catch. He settles behind you, stiff in the saddle to try and keep from pressing up against you.

It’s not enough. He can feel the curve of your ass between his thighs, the swell of it soft against him. He sucks in a breath. Your scent billows over him, your perfume lingering on your skin even after hours in the sun, lush and inviting. He shifts; you glance over your shoulder at him. He focuses intently on the sweep of your lashes instead of the curve of your lips.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

He nods, flicking the reins lightly to set Daybreak into a trot.

You eye him for a moment before turning around. You settle back into the cradle of his hips again, and Diluc bites down on a curse.

It’s going to be a long ride.

—

By the time the two of you arrive in the city, the sun is cracking open over the horizon, bleeding crimson and orange. Cider Lake is afire as you ride across the bridge; it glows golden, a molten pool.

Daybreak snorts as Diluc brings her to a halt just before the city gates.

He swings down off her back and offers you a hand. You slip your fingers into his grasp; he grips them carefully as you dismount. He almost thinks he can feel the heat of you through the thick leather of his gloves.

He lets go once you’re safely on the ground, though his fingertips linger. He pulls back when he realizes, flexing his hand. You don’t seem to notice. You’re already rummaging through the saddlebags to collect the dandelions you’d gathered. Some of them are a little worse for the wear, but they’re burned copper by the setting sun, gleaming in your arms.

“I’m going to find Lisa,” you say. “Will you be at Angel’s Share?”

He nods. “Come to the tavern when you’re ready to leave,” he says. “I’ll accompany you back.”

“You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble.”

You examine him for a moment; he doesn’t know what you see, but it seems to satisfy you.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll see you then.”

You’re off before he can respond. Lawrence salutes to you as you spare him a small smile, your lips a sweet curve. Diluc watches you sail through the gates of the city; he breaks free of his trance only when Daybreak nudges at him, nuzzling up against his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he murmurs to her, stroking a gloved hand along her neck. “C’mon, let’s get you stabled.”

He waves off the stable boy when he tries to take Daybreak from him. He sequesters himself away in an empty stall, carrying in water for the mare and stroking at her flank as he takes off the saddle. The light fades as he works, slanting through the window, a melting patch of gold.

It’s dusk by the time he leaves the stable, faint fingers of light still lingering on the horizon, blending with the darkening velvet of the sky, a watercolor thing. The full-bellied moon is beginning its steady rise. He pauses in front of the stable, glancing towards Angel’s Share.

Then he heads the other way.

The Grand Goth Hotel gleams in the moonlight, rising high into the sky over the courtyard. It should be intimidating, but there’s something quietly graceful about it, like the curve of a dancer’s back. Vines trail over it like lace, tatted over the wood and dotted with bright pops of flowers. A lone Fatuus stands guard in front of the grand doorway.

Diluc’s fingers twitch.

He longs for the weight of his claymore, for the way the pommel rests in his palm. It would pacify the thing that lingers behind his ribs, a yawning maw that always hungers. He’s never been able to satisfy it; in the darkest hours of the night, he sometimes fears he never will.

The Fatuus yawns. Diluc steps closer, until he can feel the faint mist of the fountain’s spray. The faint scent of the fountain’s planters rises, stirred into something lush by the water. It’s a little musty, but he doesn’t care; the hotel has his full attention. He scans the building and zeroes in on a moving curtain.

There’s a figure just beyond it, made misty by the distance, a ghostly outline against the window. The curtain flutters again, flicked shut, and Diluc huffs out an annoyed breath. He watches for a moment more, but the fabric remains still.

When he returns his gaze to the guard, his shoulders stiffen.

You’re chatting brightly to the Fatuus, who has a slight flush on his cheeks, visible even from across the square. Diluc grits his teeth. You’re turned just enough that he can’t read your lips, that he can only see the corner of them, a sweet curve.

Whatever you say, the guard steps aside. He pulls open the door for you and ushers you inside with a hand on the small of your back. He returns to his post as you disappear behind the massive door of the hotel, the building swallowing you down.

Diluc’s gloves creak as he curls his fingers into a fist. He strides towards the hotel, his boots echoing against the cobblestones. The guard sees him coming; he pales a little but stands firm at his post.

“The Goth Grand Hotel has been reserved for the Fatui delegation alone,” he says, though he can’t quite look Diluc in the eye.

“My wife just went inside,” Diluc says, crossing his arms over his chest, knowing it emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders. “I’m meeting her.”

The guard wrinkles his brow. “No access for unauthorized persons!”

“She’s authorized?”

“That’s not information I can share.”

Diluc raises a brow. The guard flinches.

“My wife,” Diluc says, “is inside. I will be joining her.”

“You’re not authorized.”

“Do I look like I care? Take me to my wife. Now.”

“Sir—”

“I’m not asking.”

The guard wilts at Diluc’s authoritative tone, but he holds firm. Diluc would be impressed if he wasn’t so annoyed. His fingers itch for the weight of his claymore again; his Vision is warming against his thigh. He shifts, but before he gets far, your voice rings out in the square.

“Luc.”

He goes still. Even as children, you’d never taken to calling him by a nickname; to hear it slip from your lips now makes something in him swell. He hadn’t thought—

“Yes, Miss?” the guard asks.

“It’s ma’am,” Diluc says, petty. “She’s married.”

“I’m sorry about my husband,” you say, sliding out from between the heavy oak doors of the hotel to lay a hand on the Fatuus’ arm. “Diluc, stop tormenting Luke.”

That feeling in his chest deflates like a pierced Anemo slime. His brow knits into a thundercloud expression; the guard—Luke, apparently—flinches.

“I wasn’t tormenting him,” he says drily, staring at where you’re still touching the other man. “If I was, everyone would know.”

Luke pales.

“Ignore him,” you say. “He’s just grumpy because I’m late.”

Luke just nods, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. You sigh and turn to Diluc.

“Shall we?” you ask, and Diluc finds himself raising his arm for you to take hold of without thinking. You slip your hand into the crook of his elbow; he thinks he can feel the heat of it even through his coat.

You make it just a street over before Diluc can’t help himself.

“Are you often allowed into restricted areas?”

You blink, confused, and then your face clears. “Oh,” you say. “It was just because I was going to see Anatol. It wasn’t going to take long, especially since he met me in the lobby.”

“Still.”

You hum. “It’s because of child,” you say, as if that makes any sense.

“A child?”

The laugh that leaves you is bright; it echoes through the street, lingers shimmering in the air. “No,” you say. “Childe. The Harbinger. We’re quite friendly. It allows me small exceptions at times.”

Diluc tamps down on his automatic reaction. This is not new information. If anything, he should be glad for it. But it stirs something in him that he’s afraid to name. He breathes out through his nose, a slow, steady flow of air that serves to put out the embers smoldering within him.

“I see.”

You glance at him; he can’t quite decipher your expression before you turn away.

The rest of the walk to Angel’s Share is spent in silence.

—

The two of you do not spend long at Angel’s Share; Diluc speaks to Charles as you greet a table full of Knights of Favonius. Diluc watches as they stand to greet you, looking far too pleased to have your company. He huffs.

“Master Diluc?” Charles asks.

“It’s nothing,” he says, returning his attention to the bartender. “Please, continue.”

Charles nods and goes on to detail a few small issues that have come up since Diluc was last in the tavern. Diluc listens intently, but his gaze occasionally wanders to the knights’ table.

You make a sight, sitting primly at one of the tavern’s rustic tables, your hair shining in the flickering lantern light, as if stars are scattered within it. You’re a queen holding court, your mouth a sweet curl. The knights’ cheeks are cherried by alcohol; they’re stumbling over themselves to tell you stories of their trips, their fights, their bravery.

Diluc wonders if any of them could even take care of a few slimes.

You laugh, covering your mouth with one hand. Your wedding ring glints in the light, and something satisfied curls through Diluc’s chest.

“Is there anything else?” he asks Charles.

“That’s all, Master Diluc.”

“Thank you, Charles. I’ll take tomorrow night’s shift as planned.”

Charles nods.

Diluc gives him a sharp nod in farewell before stalking over to your table. You glance up as he approaches, your mouth still curled into that rosebud smile.

“Is it time to go?” you ask, pitching your voice just loud enough for him to hear you. You don’t wait for an answer, starting to push to your feet. Next to you, one of the knights starts to rise to his feet as well.

Diluc lengthens his stride. He reaches the table just as the knight starts to extend a hand to you; he offers you his hand before the knight can fully reach out. You blink as the knight freezes. He sinks back into his chair as Diluc extends his hand further, an obvious prompt.

You laugh, though Diluc is not sure why. Still, it doesn’t matter, because you slip your hand into his and he closes his fingers around it, helping you from the table. He lets go as soon as you’re by his side.

“Goodnight,” you say to the table. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“Of course!” one of the younger knights says, grinning widely. “Though it’s a shame the captain missed you!”

You laugh again, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Don’t fret,” you say easily. “I’ll see him soon enough.”

Diluc frowns.

“Travel safe,” one of the other knights—Anselm, Diluc realizes, the one who had escorted you earlier—says. “May Barbatos protect you.”

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a little smile.

Diluc clears his throat. “It grows late,” he says. “We need to be off.”

“Of course,” you say. “Goodnight, sirs.”

The knights chorus a series of goodbyes, somewhat clumsy with inebriation. You laugh again, but don’t linger, heading towards the tavern door; Diluc lengthens his stride once more and opens the door for you.

Your lips curve sweetly, but you don’t say anything.

The walk to the stables is quiet. True night has fallen, a dark curtain lit only by the lantern of the full moon, casting its light in a perfect halo, blotting out the stars. It grows darker when a cloud crosses the moon, a ship cutting across the sea of the sky.

Diluc, though, is used to it. He leads you to the stables carefully, keeping to the main roads in lieu of his darker paths, of the murky alleys that not even the moonlight pierces. He stays close by your side; sometimes he thinks you might even lean into the warmth of him.

When the stables come into view, still lit by multiple lanterns and humming with life, stablehands settling the horses for the night, Diluc pauses. “Did you bring the carriage?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I didn’t want the fuss,” you say. “It seemed easier to just ride.”

He nods before guiding you into the stables. Your horse—Sunsettia, if he’s remembering correctly— is stabled next to Daybreak; he slips into her stall and starts to tack her up for you. He smoothes a hand over the mare’s flank before he tightens the saddle. Her tail flicks and he pets her again.

When he steps out of the stall, you’re nowhere to be found.

Then Daybreak nickers inside her stall. Diluc glances into it and blinks. She’s perfectly saddled, nudging against you in a quest for apples or some other treat. You meet his gaze over the stall’s edge. You smile, a crescent moon curve.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says.

You tilt your head. “Neither did you.”

He huffs but inclines his head to you. Your smile softens, the edges of it smoothing into something sweeter. You slip out of Daybreak’s stall and take Sunsettia’s reins instead, leading the mare outside and calling out a quiet goodbye to the hovering stablehand.

Diluc leads Daybreak out of her own stall and presses his face into her flank for a breath, then he follows you.

It’s a long ride home.

—

“Master Diluc.”

“Yes, Adelinde?” he asks, not looking up from the document he’s reading. He flips to the next page, mouthing along with the numbers as he does, sketching them down on a scrap piece of a paper.

She clears her throat.

He pauses. He sets down the paper and glances up at her. She smoothes down her skirt and his brow furrows. Whatever she’s come to tell him, he won’t like it.

She meets his gaze steadily, her shrewd eyes gone to seaglass in the morning light. “Your wife is preparing to leave,” she says.

“I’ll be down in a moment.”

“She is insistent on not taking any personnel from the winery.”

“She needs to take at least an attendant with her.”

“She has one, she says.”

“One of ours, Adelinde.”

“I understand,” she says. “She disagrees. Quite strongly.”

Diluc pushes to his feet. “I’ll convince her.”

Adelinde studies him for a moment, her green eyes flickering, all St. Elmo’s fire. “If I may, sir,” she says, “I’m not sure that you can.”

He pauses. “That I can? Or that I should?”

Her eyes soften; her mouth curls into something tender, a still-healing bruise.

“Both,” she says.

He sighs. “I’ll take it under consideration, Adelinde. Is there anything else?”

“That’s all.”

Diluc inclines his head to her before he strides from the room. He makes his way to your room, but there are only servants in there, stripping down the bed and throwing open the bay windows to air it out. He moves on to the rest of the winery, but it’s not until he steps out into the warm glow of the mid-morning sun that he finally finds you.

You’re petting one of the winery’s ratters, stroking along its head and laughing when it tries to lick you. The dog is a beautiful one, sleek-bodied with short-cropped fur the color of burnished copper coins. It sees him coming and pulls away from you, trotting up to him instead and nudging its head against his gloved hand. Diluc obliges, skating his fingers behind the dog’s ears and scratching.

“Yours?” you ask, standing from your crouch.

He shakes his head. “One of the workers’,” he says.

“I suppose I can’t take it with me, then.”

“No,” he says. “But you can take one of the attendants with you.”

You sigh. “I already told Adelinde that I have no need of another one.”

“It’s different now,” he says. “You’re a Ragnvindr.”

You raise a brow. “I assure you, my current attendant meets Ragnvindr standards, despite what you may think.”

“My staff is vetted.”

“So is mine.”

“It’s—”

“This isn’t up for debate, Diluc.”

He’s about to argue when a whistle rings out, long and low and fluting, and the dog’s ears perk up. It arrows off into the distance, pausing only to snap at a crystalfly that had fluttered a bit too low. The two of you watch it go.

When Diluc glances at you again, you’re already watching him. You’re unreadable, a new moon’s outline in the velvet sky, and he sets his jaw.

“Alright,” you say. “If I accept your attendant when I’m in Mondstadt, will that pacify you?”

He frowns. It doesn’t get him what he needs—one of his people in your office—but it’s a start. “I’d prefer that you take them with you to Liyue.”

You study him for a moment. Your eyes are knife-sharp and slip beneath his skin, but Diluc is used to being sized up by worse opponents.

“Very well,” you say, sighing lightly. “I’ll take them with me to Liyue.”

He blinks, startled by the sudden capitulation, but he recovers quickly. “Thank you.”

You hum as he beckons to a nearby worker, sending them into the winery to alert the attendant he’d picked out. It takes a bit to sort everything out, but you’re ready for departure in a timely manner. Diluc approaches you at the carriage’s side and clears his throat..

“You are prepared?” he asks.

“I am.”

“Shall I?”

You nod and he hands you up into the carriage, where your new attendant is waiting. You settle into the seat gracefully before glancing at him once more.

“Thank you,” you say. “For your hospitality.”

He shakes his head. “It is your home too, now,” he reminds you.

“Still.”

Silence descends, pulled taut like a harpstring. It’s broken by the driver’s arrival.

“Safe travels,” Diluc says, a little bit stiff. “Send word when you arrive.”

Something crosses your face, a lightning-strike expression. It’s too fast for him to parse.

“I will,” you say. “Goodbye, Diluc.”

“Farewell,” he says as the driver closes the carriage door. Your eyes are the last thing he sees, gleaming in the morning light. Then the driver is up on their post and clicking the horses into movement down the road.

He watches until the carriage is out of sight. Then he turns around and heads back into the winery.

Somehow, it feels a little emptier inside.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr x you #bee writes genshin #fic: moon eater

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lustlovehart · 1 day

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Hi there, i saw ur blade fics & omg 😳 So i came here to send a req for another blade content with gn reader. No yandere blade, but kinda dark (related to ur latest fic of him & i hope u r ok with my req, feel free to decline it).

So, ur latest fic said the reader leaves all of the 'sinning' to him. What if the reader wants to kill someone cz that person is somehow related to their past (in terrible terms with them & it haunts the reader like how it haunts blade). But the reader remembers to leave the 'sinning' to him, so they ask blade to do it (even though they apologize afterwards cz they feel like burdening him).

I hope my req is all safe, im sry if it's complicated 😭 But thx a lot!

Hell Is A Place Without You

A/n: Ahhh!!! I’m so happy you enjoy my Blade writings ^^, I actually already was planning on making a part 2 for it so this req was perfect | pt.2 of I’ll Suffer Your Sin

Summary: Your mind is dirtied with unwanted memories, who knew that nightmare would come back to haunt you? Only you decide who ends your dream. [Date with Blade goes horribly wrong]

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Being watched while you sleep, Awkward Bladie trying to court you, Minor Character Death, horrifically written fight scene

It’s impossible to truly escape your past, the traces and scars it left behind on you will always remain on your body, no matter how hard you scrub it off. Even in your own dreams, you aren’t free of such a hell. The way that they had betrayed you is etched so deep into your skin tearing your flesh to reach its core will never be enough to absolve you from the memory. The past you remember is buried in blood, their laughter ringing in your ears as you watched them destroy everything you had, yourself as well.

You dream of being free, alas, you'll be chained by it as long as they have you.

“Is something wrong?” The way your heart pumps as gasps of air rush in and out of your lungs doesn’t fail to go unnoticed by the man next to you. He’s bare, the only thing covering his torso being the bandages wrapped around his waist. The way the light from the moon gazing through the window highlights his prettiest features, his muscular stature, his face, and even the scars that adorn his skin are beautiful.

You're sure you would've liked the sight more had you been in a regular state of mind. The events from yesterday still continue to stir you up, and the nightmare only made it worse.

"I-It's nothing just a… Wait, have you slept at all Blade…?"

…

"No, I haven't"

"Why? I know you have sleeping problems but you should try."

" I was making sure you're okay." For a moment his eyes lock onto your wrapped hand, a cruel reminder of what he had done yesterday,

…

"Were you… Watching me sleep…?" he blinks a few times at you before turning back towards the window. Maybe that cold chill up your spine was caused by him instead of your nightmare.

“If I said no you wouldn’t be convinced.” He’s right, even if he did you would most definitely tell he was lying. Well to be fair, he never lies to you, so it wouldn’t be hard to tell in the first place. Now that you think about it, there are some moments in which you wish he would’ve created a fake truth, alas, him and his “that will change nothing” mindset won’t fulfill that wish.

“You’re right, I probably wouldn’t.” You lift yourself from the bed, the sun still hasn’t risen, in fact, it’s still evening, but knowing you have a serial sleepwatcher in the room with you, it might just be better to stay up.

His eyes follow your groggy form slowly putting your work outfit on, his gaze not at all straying. It’s only when you look straight at him that he finally decides to not stare.

He breaks the silence while you’re trying to put on your shoes, his words making you pause and look back up at him for a moment, a null feeling hidden in your chest makes you consider telling him, but in the end, you choke it down and pay no mind to his words, going back to putting your footwear on.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I said it was nothing—“ You don’t feel like announcing your personal problems as of the moment. When you finish, your body stands back up to its regular height, a small scream escaping your lungs when you turn around and find your coworker standing too close for comfort behind you. His stone-cold face is only inches apart from your own, each breath that escapes him being felt on your skin.

Despite how intimidating the situation is from an outsider's perspective, this proximity of closeness is usual between the two of you, so it doesn’t bother you as much as it should, but that doesn’t stop the chill in your body from happening.

“I don’t lie to you, I never would. Why don’t you hold the same sentiment?” His voice is soft, it’s a dead giveaway of his feelings for you, at least, you think it is, he’s not exactly the type to directly say “I love you”, so you have to gauge his current emotions through his body language and actions. It’s not a problem for you, that doesn’t mean it’s easy though.

“But I’m… I’m not lying.”

“Yes. You are. You’re not very good at it.” Sometimes you wish the two of you didn’t work as well as you do, if that was the case, maybe he wouldn’t be able to see through you so easily.

…

“You’re right I’m lying. But… I don’t know why you care so much… It has nothing to do with you.” Your sentence starts soft before branching out into a firmer tone. This change in attitude made his breath, though barely audibly, hitch in his throat. You don’t speak any more words, only letting his sight linger on you a little longer. His eyes close when he finally retracts himself from your body.

The breath you had held in your esophagus was finally sighed out from the sudden free space. When you look up again, you see the man walk towards the door, the handle clicking as he unlocks and turns it open.

Is he gonna leave…? No is he… Brooding…? The door swings open quickly, his body maneuvering so he’s on the side. He doesn’t look at you, but with the way he’s holding the door, you assume he’s holding it open for you.

“Let’s go.”

“Wha? It’s practically midnight… Where would we go? Nothing's open, and the script is meant to start in a couple of hours—“

“Do we need to have something to do?”

“Well, usually, yeah.”

“Then we’ll walk.” His eyes still don’t make contact with yours, but you can feel the very feint feeling of him wanting you to agree. As you walk forward your body can’t help but hesitate for a moment. The Stellaron hunter is quickly taken by surprise when he feels your previously injured hand grab onto his wrist and drag him along behind you.

———

The planet you both are currently residing within is a metropolis filled with millions of stores. Maybe if you hadn’t dreamed in your sleep you could’ve gone shopping, too bad they’re all closed.

“You could always go when we’re done with the script.” His deep voice breaks your train of thought as you look down at the tiny lights. You don’t look at him but a quiet “mm” is all he needs to hear to know you heard him.

“By the time we’re done, the city will be in shambles, I don’t think that’ll work.” It’s sad really, looking down at the little glowing wisps reminds you that there are people who live here, not just people, animals, and robots, all with their own lives.

“I didn’t say you had to buy anything.” Sometimes though, not all those lives are worthy of happiness.

“Are you implying we should steal during the aftermath?” You don’t hear the silent steps walking towards the two of you, too absorbed in your conversation with the one your coworkers describe as your “bodyguard”.

“I could do it for you.” They’re close, close enough to hear the words you speak to the man.

“Would you really? I thought you were the type to not stray from the script.” You finally turn around to face him, despite the solemn mood, a slight smile can be seen from your lips a teasing demeanor exuding from your mask. Your body leans on the railing, Blade's eyes occasionally shifting to where you stand, you take it he’s worried you’ll fall.

“I am. I’m following it. Elio says I’m to “make [Name] enjoy the planet”.”

“Oh? So you’re only doing it cause you have to?” Your body lifts from where you once leaned, his own staying unmoved as you advance toward him.

“No, I would’ve done it either way.” Your smile widens a little more, his words are simple but it’s nice to know he’d do something like that for you unprompted.

The way your face exudes such a warm expression doesn’t go unnoticed, going from a formerly teasing to a more heartfelt look, making his mouth almost quirk up. Almost. As he stares, his mind is taking at least 5 mental pictures to not forget the look on your face.

Perhaps he’ll use it in the future whenever his mara needs quenching. Who’s he kidding, it’s not perhaps, it’s for certain that he’ll use it.

“Would you buy-- or rather, steal me a drink 'cause you want to?“ your finger lifts causing the man's attention to shift, looking at the vending machine in the far distance filled with different juices and beverages. He can feel you gently open his palm, placing credits in his hand. He doesn’t say words but nods his head, turning to walk towards the machine.

A machine that was quite the stretch away from you.

Your head turns to look at the pretty lights at the city below, unsuspecting of the person hidden behind you.

A crunch sounds out through the air, your body immediately spinning to see the figure hurling towards you, the glint of steel highlighting the weapon in their hand.

Clash of Blades continue to spiral out in the space until you’ve successfully pinned them to the railing, their body leaned over the fence, a small edge laid on their throat. Right there, in your hands, is the chance to leave your history behind in the dust. But, your hand can’t help but tremble. Your knees are weak too, despite it, your hand continues to press deeper, blood drawing from the wound.

“Take me, as much as you need. All of it if you have to.“

“is that it?“ a sadistic laugh escaped from the depths of their throat. The cold feeling of a sharp point is directed in your stomach. “I’m fine with you coming back if that’s what you want-“

“... I don’t need it. So have it.“

The figure is shoved to the side, their head making contact with the floor, the weapon in your hand unmoving from its place as you look down to where their body lies. They’re still alive, the harsh breathing of their crumpled form on the floor is enough to tell you. A hand intertwines with your own, the familiar touch reminding you of the events from yesterday.

Blade's hand is warm as he holds your fingers in his, the reds in his eyes looking down at you.

“...“

For a moment, your eyes make contact, keeping a steady connection. The light from the city accentuates his looks, the expression on his face pensive, yet still pretty at the same time.

“I’ll leave the… ‘sinning’, to you then.“

Slowly, your grip on the handle loosens, the only thing keeping your hold on the weapon being Blade's hands clinging to yours.

“Blade… Please–“ Your head is turned down, the gentle tilt of his hand making you look at the floor. The knife is finally released from your possession, your eyes not looking up to meet him at the trade. From the edge of your vision, you can see Blade shrug off his outerwear, hanging the piece of clothing on your head, further sheltering you from the gruesome sight soon to come.

The smell of Citrus and Herbal tea invades your nostrils, both comforting and horrifying. But, the scent is enough to distract you from the harsh sound of a knife swinging and the wheezing that accompanies it. A few quick jabs and the sound of breathing slowly dissipates.

Even then, Blade's attack on the body does not stop, he keeps going until he can discern the sound of heavy breathing being yours and not his own, finally breaking him out of his trance and allowing him to turn back to you.

Your hands slowly begin to lift the jacket from your person before swift footsteps halt your actions, quickly tugging the fabric back down.

“Not yet.”

He’s quick to take you by the waist, the pungency of iron breaching the protective layer of cloth between you and him. It isn’t until minutes pass does he delicately lifts the jacket off your head and rests it on your shoulders.

The sight, it’s one you’ve seen dozens of times on him, deep scarlet liquid splattered and smeared on his body, hollow eyes, sullied clothes with fresh blood on his soft hair.

You continue clinging onto his jacket. Looking at him, but not at him. The barrier serving as a blockade for the beast in front of you.

Neither of you speak, only listening to the sounds of the sleeping city as you indulge in one another. His mouth leans towards his bloodied glove, the teeth behind his lips revealing themself and serving as a removal for the piece of fabric.

He reaches for your hand, the scars on his skin evident as you allow him to place your palm on your chest.

“You’re alive [Name].” He’s right, the beating in your chest is proof of that fact. But so what? “You’re alive in the same way that I’m dead.” What? The look he holds in his eyes is empty, not giving you any telltale sign of what he means.

“But even then, what would the living know about the words of the dead.” A quote from Kafka that she had restated is all you can remember in your mind. His grip on your hand doesn’t relent for a moment, only pointing his head in the direction of the city, signaling you to turn around and see.

The once-slumbering city has now awoken. A beautiful sight that will eventually fall despite the morning's hope.

A ding sounds from Blade's phone.

Kafka 🕸️: Are you ready dears?

---

This took way longer to finish than I wanted it to

#blade x reader #askves #hsr x reader #vesperwrites #honkai star rail x reader #hsr angst #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade x reader #honkai star rail blade #yingxing x reader #hsr x you

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