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#I wish there where more moments where he would smile
luveline · 2 days
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coworker James being protective of reader like she’s just a sweet and kind thing and he’s FINALLY accepting his feelings and reader gets like happy that he cares?
“No, no, it’s okay. Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna watch movies all weekend. I might make popcorn. Yeah! Don’t worry about it, just have fun, okay?” 
You’re talking quietly but not without pep, hushed to avoid disturbing him. By the sounds of it, your plans for the weekend have bombed. You’re taking it remarkably well. 
“Okie dokie. Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you. Bye.” You don’t lift your head where you’re laying against the desk, but you put your phone gently by your keyboard. 
“That blows,” James says. 
“Maybe.” You turn your face to see him, before you lift yourself up and return to the pack of biscuits you’ve opened. “Do you want some?” you ask, bringing a malted milk to your mouth. 
“Please.” 
You gesture for him to take one. In relative quiet, you and James sit there chewing, the sunlight from the open window on your hands. 
“You’re not upset about your plans?” he asks. 
“A bit, but… I don’t want her to feel bad for me. She should have a good time, she got last minute tickets to see a band and she loves them. We can just hang out next weekend.” You push the biscuits toward him. “I need to stop eating these all the time.” 
You stand up and do a big stretch, arm arched over your head before you laugh and point at him. He’s never had someone look at him like this. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” you say, raising your eyebrows just a touch. 
You’re being playful. James’ stomach flips. “I didn’t see a thing,” he says. 
You drop your pointing. “Really?” 
He covers his eyes. 
Your following laughter is even richer. 
“This office makes me tired. I’m going to make some coffee before lunch is over,” you say. 
You walk away like nothing happened. James is left to ruminate. 
He pushes a hand into the crop of his hair and ruffles it, stressed, though the scratch of his nails against his scalp relieves some tension. James is used to being annoyed at you, you were always so irked with him, but lately he struggles to find anger for you. He still loves to tease you and watch your eyes change; there’s no better moments than on the mornings he’s here first and he’s found a new hiding place for your mug, and you’re forced to ask him where it is he put it. Asked is kind, really. More aptly, you demand to know where it is, and promise professional retribution. 
You could always drink from a different mug, but James has a feeling you like asking. This morning, you found it by yourself, and you put it smugly on your desk with steam rising from the surface. “You’re getting worse,”
you’d said, and that smugness suddenly felt friendly. Your smile was ten different shades of sweet. 
You are… quite sweet. You’re kind. You don’t let much upset you that isn’t James, even when it should. And the James stuff is all superficial. When was the last time you guys argued over something that mattered?
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love arguing with you. But he’s coming to appreciate another side of you, the side that comes back to your desk with a fresh coffee and little happy breath of air when you see he’s made his two figurines cuddle each other. 
“They’re in love,” you say dreamily. 
“You can be so lovely,” James says. It’s like something takes over his body. 
You put your coffee down. “What?” you ask, smiling as though it’s a joke you don’t get. 
He’s not sure he should say it again. “I don’t know. When you smile, you’re really pretty. Like, even more than usual.” 
“Ha-ha.” 
“No, I’m serious.” 
“I don’t believe you.” 
James takes one of your biscuits. “Then don’t, it doesn’t bother me.” He wishes he hadn’t said it, what a weird thing to say, but he can’t pretend he was kidding, it would be crueller than saying nothing. So he wedges a biscuit in his mouth and laughs when you call him gross, your facade one he doesn’t believe. You wrinkle your nose, but you’re happy underneath it. 
Lovely, even. 
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How do you feel about writing more Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler? After watching X Men 97, I forgot how charismatic this elf man can be. If possible, I need an introverted reader with barely any social skills who starts to malfunction whenever a certain blue is around. When confronted, reader is basically 'you're too pretty' and almost dies of embarrassment.
Social System Error
Kurt Wagner x reader Words: 1.9K A/N: I changed it a little bit to fit the scenario, but I hope it's still up to your expectations :)
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You wished that the ground would swallow you up. Who knows, maybe you would find a mutant who could grant you that wish, as long as you looked hard enough. Clasping your hands to your face, you felt your cheeks grow hot and slid down the door of the room before sitting on the floor.
Why couldn't you be normal for once? Talk to him normally for once, make small talk and say goodbye elegantly? But you weren't allowed to do that. Instead, you had to run into the next door just because Kurt waved at you and gave you one of his most charming laughs. Instead, you spilled your coffee all over the table just because he entered the room. I
nstead, you couldn't get a word out when he came your way, you just turned around on the spot. It was horrible.
The fact that you had developed a crush on the blue mutant was really no secret and the fact that he hadn't noticed was a real miracle. Or maybe he had found out and just decided not to do anything. You didn't know which option was worse.
So far, you had really done your best to avoid him as much as possible so that he wouldn't think of talking to you, but you could always at least catch a glimpse of the blue mutant out of the corner of your eye. You just couldn't help it, Kurt was wonderful. He was funny, charming, polite, intelligent and incredibly attractive. One look at his face with a beaming smile was enough to make your legs go weak.
And today you had really blown it.
Rogue had finally managed to convince her brother to stay at the school and he had decided to teach some of the classes. You were both thrilled and devastated at the prospect of seeing this wonderful man every day, and probably embarrassing yourself every day after you'd already ogled him more than once.
However, when you had entered the staff room at lunchtime and seen Kurt sitting next to Ro on the sofa in his shirt, suit trousers and loose tie, you had immediately stormed out of the room with a bright red face and gone to the staff bathroom, where no one had been at the time. In hindsight, you really should have locked that door.
You energetically threw another handful of cold water onto your face and rubbed your cheeks several times to be on the safe side, hoping to drive out the redness. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," you mumbled and leaned against the edge of the sink, head bent forward. "How am I supposed to survive this. God, I bet Rogue recommended these clothes to him. Lord help me."
Nervously, you began to pace up and down, ruffling your hair. "Why does he have to look so good? Can't he be ... normal attractive? Not inhumanly, divinely attractive?" You'd embarrass yourself, really embarrass yourself, and he'd never talk to you again. Or worse, think you're pathetic and talk to you out of pity.
You came to a halt in front of the mirror again and looked at your reflection. "No, no." You couldn't bear the thought. "Okay." You exhaled and leaned against the edge of the sink again. "It can't be that difficult. Just be normal. Or whatever," you mumbled. "Just be cool. Kurt's just another teacher, he probably doesn't even know you exist. You just go up to him and start a conversation, that's all."
You exhaled. "You can do this, take it easy." You looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror, and put on your most believable smile. "'Hi Kurt, how ya doing?' No, no, that's too casual." You paused for a moment and thought. "'Good afternoon, Mr. Wagner, how are you today?' Oh God, far too formal."
You wipe your face in frustration. "Come on, it's just a conversation, nothing more. You can talk to students all day. What's the difference? Apart from the fact that Kurt is a lot more attractive and wonderful and that you have a crush?" You gave a somewhat exasperated and forced laugh. "Nothing more than that. Gambit would laugh at you if he saw you like that." Your fingers drummed on the porcelain of the basin.
"'Hi Kurt, I just wanted to take a minute to say that I really admire you and think you're wonderful and funny and...um I've seen you around here quite a bit and..." Groaning, you threw your hands up in the air. "God, I sound like a crazy person! Or a stalker! Or both! This is way too much too soon. Just... keep it casual. 'Hey, you're Kurt, aren't you? I'm glad you've decided to stay with us'."
You nod and run your fingers through your hair again. "That works, doesn't it? It's not too casual but not too formal and I don't sound like a crazy stalker who's way too obsessed with a stranger. Okay, good, you can do it. Just relax and stay cool. Who knows, maybe he won't even notice you and you won't have to talk-“ As you turn around mid-motion, you freeze in place, your heart skipping a beat. "-with him," you added meekly, your eyes widening in panic as you realize who’s been silently listening to your pep talk. Across from you, leaning against one of the toilet stalls, is Kurt, his arms crossed in front of his chest and an amused smile playing on his lips. His tail whips lightly through the air, as he slowly releases his arms from their twist.
You had to admit that your next move wasn't particularly brave. All the self-confidence you had been trying to build up over the last five minutes had disappeared and you did what was the only logical thing to do: you dashed past Kurt out of the bathroom, sprinting down the corridor, feeling incredibly grateful that you didn't have any more lessons today, meaning that you could hide in your room in the hope that you would never have to face him again.
Just the thought of it made your face flush with shame and you threw yourself onto your bed to release frustrated screams into your pillow. You weren't quite sure how long you'd been lying there, but a knock on your door brought you out of your racing thoughts. You didn't really feel the need to talk right now, but you heaved yourself out of bed anyway when there was a second knock.
You were pretty sure you must look horrible, clothes and hair out of place from the bed, but usually only Gambit or Jean came by and both had seen you in some worse circumstances. Sighing, you opened the door. "Listen, I'm not-" You broke off mid-sentence, looking up wide-eyed at the person in front of you, who was definitely not Gambit or Jean.
"Hello, am I interrupting?" Kurt looked down at you, his lips curled into a sweet smile and your heart instantly beat in your throat as the heat rose in your cheeks. You could only shake your head, causing Kurt to smile even wider. "Wonderful." He stepped slightly towards you, leaning against your doorframe, and you were pretty sure you were going to explode instantly.
"Can I...I help you?" Your voice was barely audible and shaky and you tried your best to avoid eye contact, but it was so incredibly difficult. Kurt's eyes were bright and shining and so attractive that she found it hard to look anywhere else.
"Indeed yes." His smile became more mischievous and you were pretty sure your legs wouldn't be able to hold you up for much longer, they were so weak. "I saw you storming out of the staffroom earlier and I was worried. What if you're ill? Or something is wrong? So I thought I should follow you to make sure you were okay."
It was pure torture. You wanted to sink into the ground, get struck by lightning, anything just to avoid having to have this conversation. Kurt, however, seemed quite determined to do so.
"But when I got to the bathroom, something was revealed to me that I could never have guessed." Ashamed, you turned away, your hands over your face. "I'm so incredibly sorry Kurt, I really am... I'm so unbelievably embarrassed right now. Please, forget I said that."
He raised an eyebrow and looked slightly amused. "You called me wonderful and funny. That's a little hard to forget." You groaned. "God, kill me."
"Ah, ah, ah, let's not start with that," he admonished, raising a finger. His smile softened and he gently stroked a finger over your hand, which was still covering your face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. There's nothing wrong with it. Even if I don't quite understand why." At that moment, you decided that it couldn't get much worse and that if you were going to be embarrassed, you could at least get it all out at once. That way you would have limited the most embarrassing moment of your life to a few hours and not a period of weeks or months.
"Because I like you and you're incredibly attractive and perfect, but I'm not brave enough to tell you that and so I become a walking mess around you every time and I'm only telling you this so I can get it over with and you only have to reject me once and not twice."
You had spoken quickly and quietly and were pretty sure he wouldn't have been able to understand you, however he seemed to do so as he stepped towards you and slowly stroked your cheek again, this time more tenderly and with a sugary sweet smile on his face.
"Actually, that hadn't quite been the plan, my dear," he murmurs, a gentle lilt to his voice. His tail emerges from behind him, swaying lightly as if adding to the suspense. With widening eyes, you realize he's holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped with it.
Perplexed yet touched by his gesture, you accept the bouquet, feeling the soft petals under your fingertips. His smile broadens, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?"
Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and excitement. "What?" you stammered, caught off guard by his unexpected invitation. He chuckled lightly, tapping your chin, which had dropped in astonishment.
"I'm asking you out," he repeated with a playful grin. You were at a loss for words, your mind racing as you tried to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. When you finally managed to utter a "yes," your voice came out as no more than a soft squeak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
Kurt smiled contentedly, took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock. I'll pick you up." With a wink and a slight bounce in his step, he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, bouquet in hand, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
As the realization sunk in, you hurriedly set the bouquet down on your table and dashed down the corridor to Gambit's room.
You had a date with Kurt Wagner, and the sudden rush of excitement left you with one pressing question: What on earth were you going to wear?
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okwonyo · 3 days
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love confessions.
엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader eight hundred non-idol au fluff getting together + cw. not proof-read skinship kissing ( other )
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heeseung
would always be very straightforward about his feelings for you, from the second he felt his fondness for you overlapping friendship a little bit.
would be confused whenever you respond to his loving works by a teasing flirt, his hushed date offers to you displaying as jokes from your point a view.
and then, when he would understand and finally confess to you in a way that could not make you doubt, he would get giggly. face growing red, being unable to sustain his laugher and getting visibly shy whenever his gaze meets yours.
“i’ll give you all of me, all my love”
jongseong
would think about it for years. his heart beating, warmth filling his entire body at the thought of which words he should use alone.
would invite you somewhere you like, calm and private. just the both of you, eyes locked, heartbeat getting slowly synchronized.
would take your hands in yours, thumb stroking your skin in a beyond reassuring way. your gaze would be enough to make him confess then and there, so natural, like he was born for it.
“i adore everything about you”
jaeyun
would stumble over his words while avoiding your gaze in the process. would end up in a complete mess, throwing words around and making non understandable sentences.
his love confession would be said in one breath, a quick sentence but still full of meaning and thoughtful. which would make swipe you of your feet.
would ask for you for a kiss in a shy voice. you would be able to hear his heart throbbing against his chest as he leans towards you. a soft giggle would escape from his lips after a quick peck, turning his head away from you.
“i just can’t think of anything but you— my head is full of you, my heart is full of you”
sunghoon
his lingering stares, cheesing smiles and soft touches are obvious enough for everyone to see how much he likes you. to him, these are love confessions on their own and he never wanted to hide it.
would let it slip during a hangout together; maybe a walk in a park or just sitting next to each other in front of a lake, washing the ducks on a bench and eating waffles.
would watch you with a gentle smile while you almost choke on your food, right after realization eats you in the most brutal way possible. he would fall for you even more.
“my heart is full of you”
seonwoo
would spend a lot of time finding a hood gift for you— although, every thing his eyes leans on would remind him of you somehow.
soft words written on a pretty card, your favorite flowers wrapped in a pretty tissue and a cute little gift. even if you reject him, seeing you smile because of the presents would ease his heart.
on the way home, would shyly come hold your hand after you accept his feelings for you and tell him that they are reciprocated.
“i wish i could give you every flower that i find”
jungwon
wouldn’t be able to think of a moment where his heart wasn’t beating with nothing but pure fondness towards you. since the moment he met you to, he believes, the rest of his life.
would be unable to get you out his mind, even when he is not supposed to think about, when he is supposed to focus and give all his focus.
would confess, thinking that it would go away if it was finally said out loud — it wouldn’t work. now that would become his girlfriend, it would have gotten even worse.
“i’m not easily distracted but you are acting like a magnet”
riki
would ask his friends about how he should do, excepting a valid solution and normal answers to his questions. which would be an huge mistake, in his point of you, they can’t stop teasing him about it now.
would confess to you in such a soft spoken voice that it would make melt. his eyes would avoid yours in a awkward yet cute way.
a thanks would be said from him after you accept his confession, without thinking and an quick apology about it would follow close behind. would just get so shy, now that he is your boyfriend, he doesn’t know how to act properly around you.
“everything feels so soft and warm when i’m talking to you. i think i like you a little too much”
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i wanted to write this for a while now ! but i wasn’t really sure how to, i hope you all enjoyed ^^
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Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader, where Reader and Alastor are about to get married, but the day before their wedding, Alastor mysteriously disappears. On their bed lays a note: “I’m sorry, I had to leave.”?
Heart in debt
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader Summary: "Until death do us apart" turned into a "Until I see you again in hell", when Alastor, for unknown reasons, decided to become a runaway groom. Warnings: Gore, bit of angst.
Sorry for the delay dearest, this work took 4 drafts and a lot of re-write, I hope the result is to your liking :3.
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The venue was reserved in advance, your mother had chosen the perfect location for you. The catering service was already paid for, as was the florist, band and cake.
Everything was ready.
Looking back, as you finished getting ready for bed, with your nerves on edge, you remembered how your parents reacted when you told them you were getting married.
The best couple ever, welcomed your fiancé, Alastor, as if they had recognized the plague made person. The permanent smile, the aura of death, and well, something they saw in him made them act defensively.
However, of course, your father loved you more than anything in life, so since the ring was of high quality, he had a house on his name, he could provide for you and assure you a future with children, he had no choice but to swallow his opinions and daydream the day when you say he can shoot his brains out.
It was distasteful to you that your father wanted to kill your fiancé, but you knew he loved you and as long as he was with you, Alastor would be fine.
And he was waiting in bed, with his glasses on the edge of his nose, busy with a book. "Excuse me, madam, but if you hold the rifle like that, you will hurt yourself due to the force of the recoil" you remembered your first interaction, his voice was as soft as silk, manners polished up to perfection.
“Then, what would you say is the best way?”  you suspected he was going to say something mannish and arrogant, most man didn’t believed women could do nothing except cooking and breed children, judging by the eat shitting grin he was wearing, you were expecting the worst sexist comment.
Instead he asked your permission to help you, after you said yes, he gently moved your arms upwards to accommodate your position, then gently pulled sideways your hips, “Your support leg must be straight and tight, strong, otherwise you will fall back” then a rustle in the bushes alerted both of you, a white back deer.
“You can do it, aim” he encouraged you, watching the majestic prongs of the deer appear at the distance, “Breathe, don’t rush” his breath on your ear sent a shiver up your spine, “Now!” he spoke, you pulled the trigger, he held you during the push back, that kind of rifle was far too intense, even for him, but it had the enough power to kill the animal just fine.
“Do I have something on my face, dear?” he noticed your stare, smiling softly. You walked to him, pecking his cheek softly, “Now there is” he chuckled, setting his book on the nightstand, then he opened his arms to you, which were soon filled with your figure.
"I can't wait for us to be one" you snuggled against his chest, "Me neither, dearest" he pulled you closer, your hair ticking his nose. "At this hour tomorrow I'll be Mrs. Hartfield, I wish your mother were here to enjoy with us" his mom had passes away when he was a kid, but since your mother was friends with her, you got faint memories of the sweet woman that had raised your soon-to-be husband.
"She probably would have made a joyride out of the planning" his sarcasm got you giggling, "You're so mean" He kissed your temple, enjoying your laughter, "Rather honest, darling".
Nothing could go wrong at the moment, you were in cloud nine, until you woke up and noticed Alastor was gone. It was weird, usually he wouldn't move out of bed until you did. 
“My love, I'm sorry, I  had to leave. I realized I'm not ready. I'll be sending you money to compensate for the expenses. I'm sorry” Signed with his name, his calligraphy on a piece of paper next to his spot.
"Mamma?" You held the telephone life for dear life, barely holding on, "Did something happened my dear? You sound distressed" yes you were, also were under every type of weather, "He left, he left me a letter, and his clothes are gone" You chocked out on your words, tears falling onto your nightgown.
"Like full closet gone?" At her question you yelled back that he was gone, your heart shattered when you took notice that he even took his radio with him.
"I'll be there in just a moment; I'll make some calls okay?" She reassured you, "What happened?" You father spoke in the background, "Alastor left your daughter on her wedding day" Your mother tried to as delicate as she could, "Bastard! Don't worry baby, if he decides to come back, he's good as dead" he made the click of his shotgun sound against the phone, "I knew that son of a bitch was no good for my princess" he shouted.
"Maybe I did something wrong" you sobbed, "No sweetie, how can you think that? The lad wasn't ready, is no one's fault" Your mother tried to reassured you, but truth to be told, nothing could console you at that moment.
You refused to abandon his house, it was briefly yours before he went away, but the real reason was, that you still had some hope he would at some point come back. When he never did, you abandoned the house to live with your parents.
One night, returning late from your make up job at the speakeasy, you felt a rush, a cold feeling up your spine. Looking into the glass on the other side of the street, you caught the sight of a man, walking fast behind you.
Speeding up the pace, you ventured yourself into the swamp, the bayou. You knew Alastor had a hunting shed where you could at least arm yourself, you only had to run faster. Your heels at one point buried themselves in the mud, you had to continue on foot, a plus point since despite the stones and thorns on the way, you managed to reach the place.
You heard the paces even nearer, in a hurry you forced the lock to break, then took a rifle off the table inside, put three bullets in the chamber, then when the silhouette of your stalker opened up the door, he saw the end of the cannon pointing straight at his head.
“Turn back, leave!” your voice echoed through the trees, the wind eating up your voice quickly, “I will not repeat myself” you threatened, pulling the safety mechanism, “Poor little doll, you think you’re capable to-“ shakily, you fired, he was taken aback, nearly fallen to the ground.
“YOU WHORE!” he yelled, pressing a hand to his shoulder, “Leave, now” the rush that firing him gave you, was a sensation you couldn’t describe. It sent a shock of pleasure down your spine, you liked that feeling, even more so, when the one scared now, was him.
“Human scum” you aimed at his head, “See you in hell” his eyes took a less sharp look, his rage turned into fear, then absolute nothingness wrapped in blood.
Karma was a very ironic lady, when you pulled the man’s body to the lake, you tripped on an underwater root, your body barely above water caught the attention of a beast, and sooner than later, you were devoured by an alligator.
One man, one bloodlust rush sent you to hell.
A hundred years or so, after that incident, after surviving another extermination, hidden in a box in the closet. You felt a presence, something following you, you turned a corner, gun in hand, prepared to defend yourself if necessary.
When the footsteps stopped on the other side of the building, a shadow peeked its face towards you, the smile he was wearing was an amused one, especially when he saw you pointing the gun at him.
A slight unusual sound, seemingly a laugh, followed by its hand taking yours, only to leave a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “Rather dashing, are you not?” your fear was not yet dissipated, but it was so gentle, offering its arm to walk you down the street.
“I’ve been eager to salute you, though I must say, you are rather hard to find” his voice was merely a whisper, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” he stopped in his tracks, “My most sincere apologies, but I don’t own a name, I’m simply a reflection, a shadow of a man” it seemed sad, yet conscious of its existence.
“Does this man, who’s footsteps you should be following, knows me?” he nodded in response, following by a quiet “He does”. You thought back how many men you have consorted with, who might have access or knowledge of umbrakinesis, none came to your mind.
“Am I to be afraid of his intentions?” as any other man you have encountered, you’ve never been able to shake the fear, always having to have a gun attached to your waist, “He has none, he thinks he has hurt you enough, with his sudden absence” he had been prohibited to utter the incident, but he found a way to do so anyways without actually saying ‘Alastor left you, and it pains him every day’.
“Alastor” his name fell off your lips like hasn’t done before, in quite a while, “Will he agree to see me?” you asked, wanting at least an explanation, “He’s not the man you remember” the shadow warned, but you were persistent, “I’d like to see him, if he has a moment he can gift me”.
His nonexistent heart shook in his chest, “I’ll see what I can do” that sentence alone brought you more hope than anything in the world, “Can you do me one more favor? I’ll see that you get compensated” now in your home, you took paper and pen, at the same time that you took a tiny bag off one of your drawers.
“This are three pure gold coins, Spanish ones, Cortéz brought this ones himself” you placed the bag on its hand, “I hope you accept this as payment, to pass him a letter?” he nodded watching you take your quill and start writing to him.
When you were done, you melted a bit of candle wax, sealing your heart in that page, then he left with the letter.
“My dearest friend.
How the time has treated us, I hope will never know. If there was a god up there I shall thank him, for it brought you back to me somehow, however subtle presence that is.
Have you seen the changes? Are you still pursuing your ambitions? How have you been all these years? Many questions flooded my mind, as soon as your name was brought to me for the first time in a century.
If it’s not too much of a bother, I would like to see you, an hour is all I desire.”
I’ll await your answer, in whichever mean you see fit.
While reading the letter, Alastor made a pause, his eyes burning with the old feeling, the same crushing one he was hunted by ever since he left under the mantle of the night.   
“I am not mad at you, I just wish for clearance, closure.
Happy to make your acquaintance whenever you’d like.
Sincerely, Y/n.”
“Take the package with you, and make sure she’s safe” he ordered his shadow, who flew a couple days later to your doorstep.
A box, laced with a red ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw a radio inside, engraved with flowers and birds in the most exquisite wood that hell could offer. On top of it, there was a note that read “Play me”.
You sat by the fireplace, leaving the radio on the tea table, your shadow friend taking seat beside you while you push the button that was marked.
“One, two, three, testing? Can you hear me, my dear?” his voice was slightly different, there was a lot of static, but you wondered if that was his or the radio’s. “Yes, I can” yours was a melody he had yearn to be blessed with for years, “Wonderful, I had received your letter” your stomach was in tangles, awaiting his thoughts.
 “I do wish to see you, but I have something to tell you first, that may be quite daunting” your breath was caught in your throat, “Go on” you inquired, “The reason why I couldn’t marry you is due my activities in the woods, I am a killer and a cannibal, bringing pain to others grant me pleasure like no other” he laid the truth as plain as it could be, giving that he couldn’t see your eyes directly.
“Oh thank god” he was taken aback by your giggly sigh, “I thought you a…you know, someone that fancy other men” he laughed as well, he found the assumption ridiculous, also he thought strange that you’re so unfazed by his confession.
“You are glad?” you took a moment to find an answer without sounding like you’ve gone mad, “Alastor, are you a man that stalk women down to alleys to feast on their screams?” he answered a firm no to your question, “Are you a man that defiles other women?” another no.
“Do you enjoy killing the scoundrels you hated so much, bullies, the ones that take advantage of the ones with fairer means?” he took a second to pridefully answer “Yes”, you took the shadow’s hand as if it was his, “Then your mother and I can rest in peace, as cruel as you may be Alastor, you still hold your morals high, I cannot say the same regarding your honor” he laughed at the mention of the latter.    
“Did the cat caught your tongue?” he had fell silent for a minute, “No, I haven’t been at a loss of words in a while, is all” the shadow nuzzled against your hand, moving it so it could cup his cheek, “Can I pay you a penny for your thoughts? I think I might be saying it wrong; the young ones say it a lot” you giggled, adding to the ache in his heart.
“I didn’t expect you to be alright with it, it leads me to wonder, why are you down here?” you decided to be just as honest as he was, “I killed a man that had ill intentions towards me, and I liked it a little too much” his smile grew devilishly.
“Did he suffer?” if not, he was going to hunt him to grant the man a second demise, one he would ensure he would regret choosing you as his target. “The fear in his eyes, brought a smile to my face” oh he could not be more in love, he made a wise decision to send the radio, if he had you in front of him, he would’ve devour you entirely.
“How did you died?” he made a silent pray, with some hope that at least your death would not have been painful, “I was alligator food in the bayou, in an attempt to get rid of the body, September 4th, 1929” oh how that fact made a twist in his stomach, just like himself, you were eaten alive.
“I am sorry” you laughed, “For what? Your shed was the most convenient, I killed him with your hunting rifle, like you taught me” he remembered, it was the first time he felt actual pleasure in someone else’s warmth, “I can now stop regretting introducing you to the art of the hunt” the shadow placed a kiss on your temple, “Very much so”.
He felt your skin on his lips from within the connection with the sentient, “Will you join me tomorrow, for tea? I’m helping to rise a hotel with hell’s princess” oh so that’s where he was hiding around, you thought, “Fancy, I must be the one warning you now, I do not look…pleasant, I died in a swamp so I wear that fact in the form of my skin” you admitted.
Water nymphs were pretty, you were somewhat that, only more inclined to an eel. You had a long thin fin for hair, red-yellow spotty skin, sharp teeth, light brown scales covering your hips and torso, not to mention your clear blue eyes, not a choice of color but rather a blind looking hue, much like an eel.  
“Mon coeur, rest assure, I am more concerned of your reaction towards myself” he was to the limit of nearly arranging an emergency visit to Rosie’s for a new wardrobe, “I cannot wait to see you” until you spoke that lovely sentence, “Nor can I, my dear”.
The next day, without a wink of sleep, Alastor creeped behind the princes, after making the many preparations up in his personal bayou. “Charlie, I have a request” he purred, attempting to mask his excitement, “Sure Al, what is it?” the question pinched a curious itch in the princess, “Yeah, you rarely ask for things” added the fallen exterminator.
“I’ll have a guest today, one that I hold in high regards, so I’ll be excused to my room” excitement also brew in the princess itch, “Sure thing Al, no worries” she cheerly smiled at him. It seemed the fact he had company also touched the spider’s curiosity, or rather, surprise.
“Smiles got a date?” he looked in quite shock towards the feline bartender, who could do nothing more than scoff, “That’s impossible, it must be another soul he wants to own” he soon swallowed his own words given that Alastor materialized next to him, “Husker! Your best whiskey please” the way he utter the name of the former overlord was a warning laced with a threat.
Later that afternoon, a knock made Charlie sprint towards the door, outrunning Niffty. “Hello, I’m Y/n, lovely  to meet you, I’m here to see Alastor” you courtesy at the sight of the princess of hell, “Of course, come, come” who eagerly took your hand and pulled you inside, “He’ll be down in a minute”.
She had you sat in the lobby, with the company of Angel and Vaggie, “Sorry if I’m too curious, but how do you know Alastor?” Charlie began the small talk, ever so politely, “If he’s as mysterious as he was in life, your curiosity is well within your right, he’s a dearest friend of mine” the princess was impressed to know her host had more friends than that sleazy woman, Mimzy.
“Aww, how nice!” she also told you that there was no need for any more manners towards her, though you insisted giving the way you were taught ever since you were a child.
“Y/n” your name rolled off his tongue like the beginning of a poem, “Alastor” you turned your head around, before standing up, watching closely as he would not break eye contact with you, as he made his way around the couch.  
“Now those two were not just friends” Vaggie had a sly smile on her face, “That sexual tension is delicious” Angel added watching just how slowly Alastor brought your hand up to lay a kiss on your fingers. Your chest rising noticeably from your tight corset, the excitement was palpable indeed.
“Well if I must atone to the intrigue, she was my fiancé” an audible gasp filled the room, “Now, if you’ll excuse us” since never let go of your hand, he was able to swiftly place it on his forearm as he guided you to the stairs, “Princess, bye friends” you curtsied as you followed him along.  
He had arranged a white set of garden table and chairs, an ensemble of various sweets and meat treats displayed, along with a set of cups and plates in a remarkable shade of blue.
“Oh, Alastor this is exquisite! You shouldn’t have” you knew the meat was for him, he was never a fan of sweets, but you were, “Of course I had, please have a seat” he pulled your seat for you, pushing it ever so gently when you were already seated.
“Always so gallant” pride rose to his face in the form of a subtle rose color, he managed to hide it when his shadow came from a corner to give you a hug, “Oh hello you, he’s so cute, how come he doesn’t have a name?” if you didn’t knew better you would’ve thought that Alastor had gone green from envy, seeing his shadow receive more pets and attention than himself.
“It didn’t cross my mind, he wants you to do so” he sat in front of you as his tone grew bitter, “Alistair would be repetitive, I think William is the best bet” it intoned a purr, your hands caressing the base of its ears, “He likes it”.
He took the time you were distracted to prepare your cup of tea, adding just the right amount of sugar and mint leaves, that gesture brought your attention back to him, “You remember how I like my tea?” he had done that almost as a reflex, “Somethings never leave the mind” he admitted almost impressed with himself.
“You don’t look half as bad as your warning” you scoffed at his confession, “Don’t lie” you rolled your eyes earning a laugh from him, “I’m not”, but even with his sincerity you were conscious of your appearance, “Alastor, I’m part fish, I have scales, for crying out loud” from across the table he took your hand in his, “And I’m a deer, so? Could be worse” he had a point, you had seen the dreadful appearance of some rat demons, “Uhm, maybe you’re right”.
“Why did you leave?” after a long silence, accompanied by the sounds of the bayou, you decided to break the peace, addressing the ‘elephant in the room’. “I was afraid I would hurt you; you knew my step-father and now, my affairs” you were aware he had been raised by the end of a whip due to the monster his mother married, who you briefly met when your mother had tea with his.
“Alastor, you could never” he may be a killer, but you were certain he would never raise a hand to harm you, “You don’t know that, I am this, Y/n” it was your turn to give him a reassuring squeeze to his hand, “Did you loved me?” his eyes, quite more honest than the permanent smile he wore, widen to your question.
“I would’ve done anything to prevent harm from coming your way” you scoffed, “Yes, but did you loved me?” he let go of a breath he had trapped down in his lungs when he finally admitted the truth: “I still do”, but there was more to it, “I feel as…as if I had a debt to you, one I have no idea how to repay, nothing I think is enough” and indeed he had a mental list, burning hell to the ground was the top one choice.
“Is your hand one of the options? Your heart, perhaps?” the wish to wipe his head on the pavement had vanished a long time ago, forgiveness was perhaps the toughest thing to accomplish, but your pride wasn’t that big.
“Is not enough” he shook his head, believing that his heart was either too small or nonexistent, “It would, with time, you do owe me a century” you didn’t wanted to let go of his hand, it was the first long contact from him on years, “I’m…not worthy of you” he tortured himself ten times more than hell already did, but you just shrugged, “Who is then, if it’s not you?”.
“You didn’t marry anyone after I left?” you certainly didn’t, “No” he had imagine you at least could love someone again, be happy, “Why?” but you held him in your heart until the very day you died,  “Silly hope” that broke him, if he had a choice, his smile would’ve fade in a heartbeat.
“I’m sorry” he pulled gently of your hand, leading to sit across his lap, “Water under the bridge” he delight himself in your hand caressing his cheek, lightly, almost asking for permission, when unknowingly he was yours.
“Not for me” he pressed his ears to the back of his head, allowing you to caress him, as his arms hugged your figure close to his chest. “We have eternity, if you’ll have me” he was so glad you mentioned that option, it gave him the opportunity to pull from his pocket a beautiful diamond ring, rose gold.
“Your mother’s ring?” you were in shock at the same time as excited, yet scared as well, “Will you leave again?” he cupped your cheek, placing a kiss near the corner of your mouth, “Hell will freeze over first” you imitated his gesture, “Then, you can ask” his smile softened.
“Y/n, will you marry me?” just as he slipped the ring on your finger, you whispered in his ear, “I’ll have your head if you leave again, yes” sending a shiver down his spine, “Please do” a kiss sealed the engagement just like the first time he had ask.  
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sixosix · 3 days
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notes wc 500; just came back from watching the battle of the garbage dump movie and i was so moved that i wrote this in one sitting… literally thats it. which means there will be spoilers!!!!! of who wins lol
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You weren’t sure where you exactly stood in Hinata Shoyo’s life.
Friend? Classmate? Acquaintance? None seemed right, yet everything else was too much to describe your relationship with him. You’d been with him when he took a sudden interest in volleyball, starry-eyed by the scarce footage he could secure of the Little Giant. You’d been with him as he couldn’t even bounce back a ball for the life of him, awkwardly toppling to the side from his red arms. You’d been there to tally scores of his matches with Koji and Izumi, cheering him on even when his knees buckled from exhaustion. You had been there, you had been there—what would the point be in stopping after all of that?
“You’re my best friend,” Hinata said one day. It was years ago, back when you stayed behind to help him practice, and he grinned so widely that you couldn’t help but mirror it. But that was long ago—your relationship has changed.
Best friend. That felt much better, but it still wasn’t enough.
Hinata Shoyo was the force in your life that you wish wouldn’t ever stop terrifying you.
As the teams and the crowd dispersed, you watched Hinata stand in the center of the court, panting and dazed, his brain lagging behind. He looked stunned, as if he couldn’t believe what the scoreboard displayed. They won. Hinata’s team won.
“Oi,” Kageyama grunted, shoving his shoulder, then gestured vaguely. “Don’t keep people waiting, dumbass. The match is over.”
He stumbled backward, whipped his head around, and brightened when he caught your gaze.
“Shoyo!” You threw your arms out, a laugh blown out of you as he tackled you square on the chest. “Shoyo, Shoyo—”
He exclaimed your name in the same cadence, smile so unbelievably wide that his eyes were screwed shut. “You came! Auntie told me you wouldn’t be able to make it!”
“This is important to you. Of course I’d come,” you said, affronted that he would even believe otherwise. “I always do.”
“Yeah?” he whispered.
His chest heaved heavily, sweat trickling down his neck, and his eyes were still aflame as if the adrenaline still spiked high, but you had never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Yeah,” you murmured, your gaze flicking between his eyes. His silent and intense gaze made you feel that flutter in your chest that you definitely didn’t want to feel towards your best friend. “Hey, is that Kuroo-san? Should I get his autograph?”
Hinata scrunched his nose at your pathetic attempt at diverting his attention. “What? Why?”
“Bokuto-san’s here, too. Do you think they’d let me?”
Hinata wavered for a moment, casting a glance at his master. “Bokuto-san’s awesome, but I should still be your #1, alright? You came for me.”
You nearly laughed. He was waving a finger in front of your face like he was scolding you, and he looked so serious, too.
“Of course, Shoyo.”
He nodded, pleased and grinning. Then he took you by the hand and zipped through the crowd toward a cheering Bokuto and a solemn Akaashi. Your gaze cut to where your hands were intertwined. Even after a victory, he was indulging in your dumb excuses, grinning at you from time to time, and let you witness this supernova of a man.
The fact that it was your hand he held first after one of the most important matches in his life made you understand where you stood in Hinata Shoyo’s life. You were special to him just as much as he was to you.
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madhatterbri · 2 days
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Wedding Night | Lord Debling
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Summary: The Lord proves to be quite the gentleman on their wedding night.
Author's Note: Bri, he was going to leave her for three years. And? Let me have my me time. I'm an Aquarius.
Taglist: @theworldofotps @midwestmade29 @plentyoffandoms
Looking for fluff with Lord Debling? Check out @theworldofotps fic found here.
Looking for answers about his travels for 3 years? Check out @plentyoffandoms work here.
Y/N's wedding day proved to be one of the happiest days of her young life. Lord Debling held nothing back in giving her the wedding she always dreamed of. While they were still learning each other, she was rather pleased with him. The man had his quirks, but he cared for her deeply.
The bride loved what would come to be her new home. A stable, library, and garden to occupy her free time. It was like a dream come true. A fantasy that became her reality.
After dinner, they went to the library. Books in hand, they read to their hearts content. The pair would pause a couple of times to remark on a particular subject in their book that they enjoyed. At the appropriate time, he announced that he would show her new bedroom.
The stomach tied in knots as they climbed up the stairs. She half hoped they would share a bed together. Despite liking her new surroundings, she didn't feel quite comfortable yet. The Lord was the only person she knew, and it was all still very new.
The wedding night also caused her some distress. Her mother and dearest servant told her what to expect. She was to lay with him and expected to produce an heir. Let him have his pleasures and then leave. It may be unfair, her mother told her, but she wouldn't have to work a day in her life.
"I will come back shortly," he assured her and kissed her forehead. With candlelight in hand, he disappeared towards his chambers across the hall.
Y/N changed into her white nightgown. Her fingers shakily buttoned the buttons that were from her neck to below her breasts. She sat in the middle of the bed. Her head propped up on a pillow and waited.
"Y/N? May I come in?" Lord Debling asked and knocked on the door. Her heart pounded in her chest. This was really going to happen. She called for him to enter. The blonde lord came into her room. His wedding attire long gone and now he wore a night shirt. He stood at the foot of her bed.
"A beautiful day for my beautiful bride," he commented. His eyes gazed at her lovingly.
"My Lord, you always have such sweet words to say to me," she blushed and looked away.
"Alfred," he told her. "Please call me Alfred when we are together,"
"My apologies, Lo- Alfred," she quickly caught her simple mistake. He seemingly smiled at the way he voice spoke his name. So sweet, like honey. Her innocent face looked at him.
"Do you know what comes now?" He asked. Her heart picked up its pace again. She shifted uncomfortably.
"My mama told me," she admitted. Alfred noticed her change immediately. The once bright angel was now nervous.
"I did not mean for my question to cause you such discomfort. What has your mama told you?" He asked. Worry written all over his face.
"That you will have your pleasures, and it will hurt and just lay here," she answered. The Lord shifted and rested his hands on the canopy of the bed.
"Nonsense, my dear," he whispered. Alfred climbed on the bed. His knees carried him over to his dainty wife. Once he saw her try to sink to the bed, he stopped. "Are you frightened of me?"
"I'm sorry, Alfred. I know not of what to expect," she answered.
"You will instruct me of where to kiss and touch you. When you are ready, we will continue," he promised. Y/N took a moment before nodding her head. She visibly relaxed. Alfred rubbed his hands up her leg no higher than the knee.
"I wish to be closer to you. I will sit between your legs but do nothing more until you wish to have me. Is that understood?" He asked. His question was answered when her legs slowly parted to allow him his request.
Once the Lord of the manor was comfortable, he leaned down and kissed her softly. Her eyes closed as she melted in the kiss. He always knew to quiet the storm in her mind. Alfred deepened the kiss.
The worry of her enjoying him washed away when she heard her pant. He swore to himself that he would work to hear more of her noises of pleasure. To his amazement, she wrapped her arms around him.
Alfred pulled away to catch his breath. His thumb ran across her bottom lip. He rubbed her bottom lip down softly. "May I taste you?"
Another nod as they went back to kissing. He licked her bottom lip. She parted her lips to accept him in. His tongue slid inside of her mouth. Their tongues twined around the other. She moaned in the kiss. He pulled away and pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth softly.
"What happens next?" She asked breathlessly. The man truly took her breath away. His charm and kindness made up for all the cruelty in the ton. Y/N couldn't explain it, but something was happening in her body. A pressure was building in her stomach.
"This," he answered and kissed her neck. Alfred kissed and nibbled on the flesh. As with bird watching, he listened carefully for changes in her breathing. He wanted to be able to make her sing for him. One particular kiss, gave him his praise.
"Alfred," she whined and moved her head to the opposite side. The lord understood and didn't leave her spot. He sucked the spot, leaving a mark in its wake. The pressure in her stomach built a little more.
"Angels couldn't sing my name as beautifully as you," he complimented. His forehead rested against hers. Something was eating away at her. A little thing her sister told her. Maybe it would help.
"My cousin told me about her marital bed. I thought it was silly, but she wanted to ease my mind. Her husband, he, well," she stammered and blushed. The girls went into a laughing fit once they talked about this. When she couldn't find the words to speak, she grabbed his hand.
Lord Debling couldn't hide the shocked expression on his face. His wife ran his fingers over her clothed breasts. The tips of his fingers barely touched her hard nipples. Once she relinquished his hand, he found his hands back on her breasts.
"Tell me, my little dove. What did she tell you?" He asked. His hands kneaded her breasts.
"That a woman is sensitive there, and men love to touch them," she answered with a pleasured gasp. His thumbs rubbed over her nipples.
"May I unbutton your dress, my dear?"
Y/N nodded urgently. His fingers worked each button. Lord Debling's face appeared pleased. Like a child opening a big box on Christmas. She touched his forearms and rubbed them. Once her chest was exposed, he pressed them together.
"Beautiful," he whispered and leaned down. His mouth latched on to her nipple. His teeth pulled the pebble softly before engulfing it in his mouth once more.
"My Lord," she moaned. Her arms wrapped around his back. She ran her fingers through his hair. Her mind felt like mush. Lost in the pleasures her husband was providing to her. He paid attention to both breasts, moving from side to side when he felt one was neglected of his touch.
The pressure in her lower belly felt heavier. She feared the feeling wouldn't go away. What if something was wrong? This wasn't the only difference she could feel. Between her legs ached for his touch. A throbbing that wouldn't leave her any peace. She blushed and squirmed at the new sensations.
"Something troubles you," he pointed out. He cupped her cheeks. "Tell me,"
"I fear there is something wrong. My body feels as if it is on fire. Have I done something wrong?" She asked, worried. This marriage was important to her. All she ever wanted was for Alfred to favor her.
"My little wife," he smiled and chuckled playfully. "Your body is reacting so well to me. May we go lower?"
Her face heated knowing the time was getting closer. "Yes,"
Alfred moved her legs to bend at the knee. He lowered his hands to the hem of her nightgown. Painfully slow, he raised the dress higher up her body. Kisses were left in the trail of where the dress was once covering. The nightgown bunched around her waist.
Her breath hitched in her throat. No man had ever seen her like this before. So completely exposed. He was modest about her embarrassment. Alfred kissed between her inner thighs. His beard scratched against her soft skin.
"This may feel weird at first, but you will enjoy it. You have my word," he promised. He kissed higher on her legs before stopping between her legs. She felt his breath on her pussy.
Lord Debling ran his thumb between her sex. He was pleased to see her body was wet for him. Unashamed, he sucked the slick from his finger. Y/N was so perfect for him. His little dove.
With his fingers, he exposed her clit. She tensed yet quickly relaxed when his tongue made contact with her bundle of nerves. His virginal wife made a breathy moan. His tongue swirled in a circular motion as if licking an ice cream cone.
"My Lord," she moaned and gripped the sheets. Her head drifted off to the side. Alfred didn't afford her an opportunity to get used to his actions. His tongue licked side to side before moving up and down a short time later.
He tongued her entrance briefly before finding her clit once more. She melted at his actions. Nibbles and sucks on her sensitive body, caused her to squirm.
"Look at me," he ordered. She stared down between her legs. His blue eyes stared at her intently. While she was distracted by his skilled tongue, Alfred inserted a finger inside of her. He only pushed into the middle of his finger to get her used to it.
He never let up on her as he watched her enjoy herself. The Lord was patient with her. After her walls comfortably accepted his fingers, he added one more. They scissored inside of her to get her ready for him.
Alfred pulled himself away from her. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Do not be afraid, my dove," he comforted her. Y/N nodded and watched as he removed his nightgown. Her eyes took in his body. She enjoyed the hair on his chest along with his muscular body. "I will go slow,"
Alfred positioned himself between her legs. He rubbed the tip of his length between her folds. Once settled at her entrance, he slowly slipped the head inside of her. He took deep breaths to steady himself.
Once her walls accepted him in, he shoved more of himself inside of her. He leaned down and kissed her lips. Any distraction for her in case he caused her any discomfort. Alfred made short thrusts to get her used to his actions. They moaned into each other.
Each thrust allowed him to slide in a little more. He continued his crusade of peppering her lips and face with kisses. With one final thrust, he knew the deed was done. A pained moan escaped her lips.
"You are doing so well," he praised. His forehead rested against hers. Alfred waited for her body to adapt to him. He pulled out halfway before thrusting once again. Y/N remained silent while he praised her. What felt like an eternity to the Lord, she moaned his name. A voice of the angels.
"I'm here, darling. You look beautiful," he complimented. His thrusts picked up. The bed squeaked under them. Their sounds of pleasure fueling the other on more. Her arms found their way around him. Her nails connected to his skin. He hissed yet didn't complain.
"Alfred, something is happening," she warned. The pressure in her belly felt like it would snap.
"I know, darling. I feel it. Give me everything," he assured her.
Her mother nor her cousin could tell her the full experience of her first orgasm. She felt like she was floating in the air. Her eyes were half closed as her body tightened around him. In her distraction, he gripped her hips and buried his head in her neck. With one last thrust, he spilled his seed inside of her.
They remained still for a while to catch their breath. He removed himself from inside of her. Her nightgown was placed properly while his was placed back on. He moved to leave her bed, yet the look in her eyes stopped him.
"Are you in pain?" He asked with great worry. Despite all his measures, he feared he caused her pain that she wouldn't admit.
"I do not wish to be away from my husband. Please stay with me just for tonight,"
Her heart sank when she stood from her bed. Tears pricked her eyes, yet he slid under the covers next to her. He raised the covers to envelope them around her.
"But just for tonight," he reminded. His arms wrapped around her. She nodded and cuddled into her. They talked about their hopes and dreams for the marriage. His soft snore lured her into a peaceful sleep.
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utterlyotterlyx · 1 day
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The Fox and The Fawn
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High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Ten
Summary - The meeting between Eris, Helion and Tamlin looms meanwhile further betrayal lands you in a place that threatens to break you completely.
Warnings - angst, depression, mentions of torture and trauma, ptsd themes, kinda a dark part to this series.
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine
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The one special spot in his heart had ached through the night, like somehow, somewhere, you were pulling at the rope wrapped around his heart and soul. Though, Eris couldn't feel you, not truly, all he felt was the occasional pang in his chest that he had convinced himself was you, that it was your way of telling him that you were still there.
It was the only thing he could grasp onto that would give him any amount of hope.
Eris hadn't been able to sleep that night, not when he knew that the chance of getting you out lay in the minds of two other males, on their beliefs and morals. Instead, the High Lord lay on his, your, bed, staring up at the ceiling with an arm tucked behind his head. The thoughts wouldn't stop speaking to him, ones of horror at what Rhys was doing to you whilst he sat safely in Autumn, thoughts that told him how unworthy he was for not moving sooner.
An entire night had been spent that way, from dusk till' dawn, from when the sun set to when the birds began their morning greeting. Light slotted through the still-open curtains, Eris hadn't bothered to close them the night before, knowing that sleep would not grace him anyway. Tension lingered in the manor, it clung to each and every surface it could, seeping into the bones of every object it kissed; it was one of unknowing, and it was putting Eris on edge.
Swinging his legs to find the floor, Eris sat there for a moment, inhaling deeply and attempting to centre himself; his fists were balled up in the cream bed spread that still held the faint scent of you, and he rocked back and forth gently, imagining the ghost of you wrapping your arms around his chest and pressing your lips to his shoulder.
Eris didn't know how long he had sat like that, picturing you straddling him with that smile he loved so much pulling at your lips. Eris was content in sitting like that for the rest of his days if it meant that a part of you was alive within his mind. A curt knock pulled him from the thoughts, and he didn't bother turning around when the door opened and Lucien appeared, "Helion and Tamlin will be arriving soon, just in case you wanted to put a shirt on or something."
Lucien had been trying his best to bring some joy to Eris' world since you had left, he thought that you would have wanted that.
A fleeting moment of silence encapsulated the air, then Eris turned his head to the side slightly, only by a couple of inches to make it clear that he was listening, "Lucien," Eris swallowed hard and from where Lucien stood, he saw his brother fight against the tears threatening to dampen his mask, "Do you really think that she'll make it back?"
The window of the bedroom had become more of a mirror to his dreams recently, he envisioned himself rising one evening after soft waves of your scent reawakened his land to look through that window and see you lingering at the end of the path that led to the manor. Each time he looked through it, he almost crumbled with the disappointment.
Lucien had moved closer to his brother, perching on the spot beside him and sighing, "I think that there is no world that exists where she would ever truly leave you behind," Eris' chin was bowed low, he didn't wish for Lucien to side the more vulnerable side to him, no one ever had really, no one but you, "Whether she knows of the bond or not, y/n loves you. Only a fool would be blind to it."
"I remember when I first met her. It was after you had found Feyre and I, when we had returned from the Night Court after that encounter," Lucien's eyes flickered as he recounted the memory, like the images were replaying in his mind, "I remember being intimidated by her, and all she did for a couple of days was observe me, watch me closer than I ever had been before. Then one day she sat beside me and handed me a book after not speaking more than two words to me, she said that she had found me in the library staring at the spine for a second too long and knew that I was intrigued by it so she went and bought me my own copy," a fond sad smile grew on his lips, then soft amusement flashed in his eyes, "She said no one could ever take a single book from that library without her permission, she had the entire place warded against it. It was then that I knew that she was meant to be in my life in some form, no one had really taken a moment to observe me in a way that mattered. It made me feel bad actually, I thought she was watching me to decipher if I was some kind of threat when actually she was figuring out the ways to help me feel more comfortable and adjust to the life I found myself living."
"She still kept her distance a bit, but I'd often find the odd title left on my bed or some kind of Spring Court baked good on my table. It was her way of showing that she cared, she was the only one out of all of them that really made an effort with me. You hear the stories of her, of how terrifying and monstrous she is, but then you stand with her for a moment and know that she is the most pure thing to ever walk this world," Lucien closed his eyes and dropped his shoulders, and he whispered, "I miss her."
Eris rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly, "So do I, brother. So do I." Eris sighed, the weight of the truth weighing down on him.
"I need to tell you something, about y/n." Eris felt the sidelong glance streak down the side of his face, "When she was Under The Mountain, Amarantha took a special liking to her, she knew that y/n is the most powerful being in Prythian, and she had a theory. Wings are the most sacred thing to Illyrians, they're basically entangled with their souls, and Amarantha suspected that she would be able to alter y/n's soul through them." A chill shrouded the room, "Amarantha placed the stone of a demon in her mutilated flesh the night she took her wings, believing it was a direct line to possessing her, to giving her body as host to the demon trapped within the stone."
"The Monster of Velaris is real, Lucien. It's just not y/n."
Lucien's mouth had gone dry the moment Eris had suggest that you had been experimented on, shaking his head, he demanded more information, "She is sharing her body with a demon? Does she know? How do you know this?"
Straightening his back and looking beyond the window, to the place he always imagined you to be, Eris blinked, and then answered, "Honestly? I don't know if she does," Then the cogs began to turn, "Rhys sent Nesta and Azriel on a mission before I brought y/n here, he sent them Under The Mountain. Nesta found a journal of sorts written by Amarantha on all the things that have happened to her. Things that happened before Amarantha even met her."
"What do you mean?"
Eris didn't want to say it, he didn't want it to be real, not because of his lack of love for you, but because what Rhys had done to both of you was cruel, and if you knew, it may very well shatter your light. And it threatened to shatter his light too.
"We are Carranam. Our bond flows deeper than just mates," he said as though being mates was a fickle speck in the grand scope of what he felt, "Our magic flows as one, our minds reach out for one another. I made her more powerful, more of a threat, and Rhys was ordered to wipe our minds of each other," his fists clenched in the sheets at the thought, "We were in love, Lucien. I always knew it was her, even when I couldn't remember her or our time together, I knew."
Eris was the only person that you had encountered that hadn't looked at you in terror and ware, he looked at you like some precious priceless antique, he admired you from afar and could only wish to one day be graced with some part of you. Eris had never been nor ever would be afraid of you.
Neither would Lucien. "And where is this book now?"
A nudging feeling knocked on Eris' shoulder, notifying him of the two presences that had slipped through the wards from opposite sides of the boarder. Eris rose to his feet, crossing the room and beginning to dress himself in the mirror that he occasionally found you twirling in front of wearing an array on new garments that now lay in the wardrobe in waiting, "It's in the library in the House of Wind."
But that moment wasn't the right one to talk of it, not when two High Lords were approaching the manor eagerly intrigued to know of the message scribed between the lines of Lucien's summons. The two Vanserra brothers had a role to play, a vital one that would allow them to have some form of hope, that would bestow them with allies to demand your freedom.
With a shaky inhale, Eris willed the mask of the High Lord of the Autumn Court to fall over his eyes and prayed to the Mother that it would be enough to save you.
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It had become clear quickly that your presence in the River House was enough to make anything with sense scatter to the farthest reaches of the city. Not a single heartbeat other than your own could be heard, it thumped so intensely that it rattled the house.
Something didn't feel right.
A poisonous venom had seeped into your bones and mind, it threatening to wilt your soul and spirit, and for the first time in your life, you felt the darkness begin to salivate over the lightest part of you. The part of you that had always been untouchable, where everyone you loved lay safely.
Rubbing the spot on you chest over your heart, you frowned at the gentle tugging pulling at you, but you continued to ignore it the best you could. Like you had since the moment you stepped beyond the wards of Autumn.
The house had been watching you, reading you, and a small smile graced your face as you turned the corner to find a steaming bowl of soup and bread waiting on the countertop. No one is here to stop you, take it, the home seemed to scream, and you were happy to indulge the order. The hem of your skirt skittered along the floor and brushed against your skin as you stopped in front of the meal, inhaling the aroma of roasted vegetables, chilli and honey; you dived in right away, scooping the spoon left on the counter into the concoction and humming when it hit your lips.
Weak fingers curled around the edge of the surface, using it as leverage to keep you from crumbling to the floor at the first real nutrition you had consumed in what felt like weeks. Time had become scattered to the point where you weren't sure how long you had been locked up in that room or how long exactly you had been a prisoner of the Night Court.
Even looking at your reflection had become strenuous. You couldn't bare to see the sullen cheekbones or the pallid hue that had possessed your skin let alone the dimmed fire in your eyes. Even the twin tattoo of Azriel's had seemed to fade, on the brink of collapse and withering at the loss of fulfilment. There was no point in looking after yourself, you knew that the chances of making it out alive were slim regardless of the alliances made with Cassian and Mor.
A faint creak sounded through the house, an opening of a door, and you froze as a soft melodic voice vibrated through the home, "Hello?" It sounded so familiar, the voice held a certain softness to it, a softness you knew very well but couldn't quite place in your haze, "It's Gwyn," she wavered, "I just wanted to drop off some treats for y/n?" A footstep echoed as the priestess delved further into the home, probably feeling the icy atmosphere coil around her frame.
Without thinking, you stepped out from the threshold of the kitchen and winced when the basket between her fingers crashed to the floor, "Oh gods," Gwyn scrambled to repack the delicately wrapped treats back into the basket and did her best to pick every crumb from the carpet before placing it to the side and approaching you, tentatively, like she had found a wounded animal in the middle of a forest.
"Gwyn," your shakily reached for her and she slid her hands into yours, her warmth instantly soothing the ache within you for a kind touch, "Are you really here?"
Gwyn glanced to your neck, to the inky black veins poking out from the onyx collar locked around your throat, and then to your wrists where her fingers had licked against the same stone, "What is this?"
"Rhys put these on me, they block my magic," the stone purred against your skin, relishing in the life pouring into it, "I'm a prisoner here now, I can't leave."
"Rhys did this to you?" Rhys her High Lord? Rhys your brother by blood? Rhys?
Humming gently, you felt the air swirl, a soft caress from the house that sought to warn you that soon enough you wouldn't be alone, "Gwyn I need you to do something," he grasped her arms desperately, her blue eyes gazed at you with water gathered on the bottom lid but she nodded, "I need you to get a message to Nesta and Eris, they're at Fir Manor in the Autumn Court. You tell them that I am here and what Rhys has done to me, you tell them that I am turning people to my side. You tell them that I love them and that if I don't make it out of here then they have to know that there is no place they could go where I wouldn't be walking beside them."
The world rumbled and you knew then that the presence approaching was not kind or understanding, it was everything opposite of that, "Take the basket and go, Gwyn," you glanced to her, "Get out of here before he sees you."
Gwyn hesitated but turned and left, her braid flowing over her shoulder as she swept up the basket of pastries in her fingers on her exit. The girl was clever enough not to linger, and you mustered up whatever little power that still dwelt within you, the last speckles of magic left, to glamour her scent just as Rhys stalked through the back door.
Rhys sniffed the air and his pupils dilated before his gaze landed on you, his frail and hunched over sister stood in the doorway that no longer reeked of Autumn. The house had whisked away its offering before he had entered, leaving no remnants of its care toward you and returning to its usual position of bystander. A talon reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, it trailed down your cheek and along your jaw, then it grasped your chin and jolted your head to meet the gaze of its owner.
"Azriel tells me that Helion and Tamlin entered the Autumn Court this morning," his head ticked to the side and his eyes darkened, he drew you closer into his body, "Seems as though your friend is rallying support."
Azriel.
Of course he was still watching over Autumn.
It was foolish to believe that you could change his mind, it was obvious that he served the delusional thoughts and beliefs of your brother, the only one who did actually. Pain struck through your body, and if it weren't for Rhys holding you up, you would have sank to the floor.
Gone were the days of entering your room to find him propped up on your comforter reading a book. Gone were the days of his showering affections and ghosting touches, of his lovesick gaze and bright smiles. Gone were the nights at the cabin promising to always care for one another and planning your futures around one another. It was all gone.
Standing chest to chest with Rhys, you could see his eyes morph to black, and now that you were powerless it was enough to terrify you, and you felt yourself shrinking in his embrace, "I have no hand in what Eris does."
"I know that my sweet sister," he pressed his lips to your forehead and smiled at the chilled caress that met them, "It just means that I now have to move you somewhere much less comfortable."
"You're a psychopath."
Rhys' smile widened into a grin and his grip wound around you a little tighter, "I prefer creative."
The world evaporated in a kaleidoscope of colour, and then you were somewhere dark and cold, where the only sound was the occasional dripping from the open sky light that allowed little to no light into the room. A metallic stench clung to the air, it was moulded with despair and longing, a horribly dark and lonely aura encapsulated the space. Dark stone encased you, no windows existed bar the one that lingered a hundred feet overhead, and the only source of light burned from the lanterns glowing every few metres, making the stone floor glow, and then you realised where you were.
The Prison.
Where the most vile and corrupt creatures were locked away and forgotten about.
Coiling his fingers around your upper arm, Rhys dragged you down the halls, groans and manic laughter emitted from the cells as they hurtled past and you bare feet struggled to keep up with Rhys' pace. You fought against his grip, using your digits to try and pry his hand from your flesh but it was no use, you had little to no strength left, you had used the last parts of your magic to glamour Gwyn's scent.
The rattling of your chains had spurred on the inhabitants of The Prison, all of which had pressed their eyes against their gates and were trying to reach you, their fingers brushing against your flesh as you pleaded with Rhys to stop whilst they whispered and hissed into the abyss.
The Princess.
Demon.
Death.
"Rhys, please, you can't do this. Please." The queen that lived within you had vanished, she had retreated into the darkest part of you for refuge and watched on as the last bulb of your light flickered.
His pace did not falter at your cries, and the unsettling vocalisations of the prisoners continued on, "I'll be back for you once this all blows over," he rounded the corner and you saw the open door, of a room that awaited to devour you and everything that you were or could be. Rhys tossed you inside, not even flinching when your knees collided with the floor and your body slumped against the poor excuse of a bed, it was more like an altar, like the one Amarantha had chained you to that night. Upon further reflection you discovered that the altar didn't just look like it, it was an exact replica of the one in her torture chamber.
Groaning doors pulled and locked into place and you crawled to it, bottom lip wobbling and resolve disappearing more with each passing moment. Grasping the bars, you hauled yourself up, clearing your blurred vision to see Rhys turning away from you and heading back in the direction where he had dragged you from, "Rhys! Please. Please don't leave me here. Please."
Soft sobs broke through your lips when he didn't even move his head and winnowed from sight. Turning from the bars, you sank to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, your body shook furiously as it took in the darkness that welcomed you like an old friend, and that altar grinned at you like a loaded gun. Rhys knew exactly what he was doing when he put that in the chamber, it was his final attempt to break your mind, to put you back into the worst moment of your existence and watch as you succumbed to it.
For the first time in awhile, your mind was silent, no bickering thoughts swarmed around the canvas of it and in any other moment you'd be relieved, but you yearned for them to speak to you, to tell you what move to make next.
Raking your fingers through your matted hair, you allowed yourself to fall apart, muffling your cries into the torn skirt of your grey gown that drowned your figure. The writhing muscles in your shoulders caused you no pain that you hadn't already felt, and so you ignored them and crawled to the altar, pulling the thin pillow and blanket from the cold surface, finding a place in the corner of the cell and curling into a ball atop of it.
"Please keep him safe," you asked the Mother in a hushed tone, fixating your gaze on the wall, on any place that wasn't the altar, "Please allow his pages to turn gently," a tear rolled down your cheek, "Please."
As if your prayer had reached the recipient, a soft breeze swirled at your lower back, seemingly fitting the blanket tighter around your wilting body, and you sighed. The Prison wasn't a place that anyone walked out of alive, and you knew that you were no exception to the eons old knowledge.
No sleep dared to coax you, there were no happy dreams that could soothe you, and all you could do was stare at the stone alter that had cooed to your will shrouded in darkness as the first branch of your mind cleaved in two.
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Author's Note
Here it is! Kind of a tough one to write x
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pprodsuga · 23 hours
Note
Idk if you take requests but would you consider writing camboy!sunghoon who has a crush on yn
tbh leave a line and i just might answer x
***
Sunghoon’s camera sits on a tripod that overlooks his bed where his body is between your already-spread legs. His mouth licks at your folds at a pace that matches the slow and sensual rhythm of the music he’s chosen. Your hands rake through his hair and he hums in appreciation with his eyes closed, tongue occasionally pushing inside of you in a way that makes your toes curl.
You’re not the first girl he’s invited on a livestream, but you’re the first and only girl he’s brought on more than once.
His primarily female audience takes note of this immediately. After the second time they see your face in his videos, they’re quick to speculate and come up with different theories about who you might be to their favorite creator. But your social media doesn’t give up anything aside from the fact that you both follow each other. There’s no record of you two engaging publicly besides cross-promoting each other’s work on your respective platforms.
You’re sure his die hard fans would kill to be in your spot. It’s evident when you turn your head to see the monitor where comments on Sunghoon’s livestreams are spilling at a rate that makes your head dizzy.
sunghoonscumslut: if i had a man as fine as hoon between my legs and i was as quiet as her, I’d check myself into therapy
cumwithme: why is this the third time she’s been in his livestream?? can we get someone new lol
You feel Sunghoon gently slap your thigh, pulling your attention away from the monitor in favor of focusing on him. His mouth is so warm and wet that you almost feel sorry for all of the fangirls who only dream of being in your position. Truthfully, you aren’t sure why you’re the only person Sunghoon has invited back onto his channel. It’s not like the two of you made an outperforming video. It’s high in numbers but it doesn’t shatter his top video with another creator from a few months ago.
Sunghoon coaxes you through your orgasm and allows your legs to squeeze his head when you reach your peak high. He breathes through his nose as your cum hits his tongue and laps up the juices that spill from the corner of his mouth, relishing in the way your back arches off of his bed. Sunghoon takes a peek at the monitor that shows him what the two of you look like so that he can anticipate what might be a more sensual angle for his audience. But in this moment, your eyes rolled to the back of your head outweighs what his viewers want to see.
“See guys?” Sunghoon says as he addresses the camera, wiping his mouth with the back of his hands. “That’s how you eat pussy.” He looks down at you and smiles when you’ve regained your balance and look up at him as you prop yourself on his elbows.
“I can’t feel my legs.” He laughs before turning back to skim the comments.
“Aw. You wish that was you, huh?”
The heat between your legs pools once again when you realize he’s mocking his audience. You’re sure he’s seen some of the nastier comments because of the strange nature of your face reappearing in his videos.
Sunghoon pulls you by your legs until you’re nearly rocking off the edge of the bed and relishes in the surprised gasp you let out. He’s sliding his warm dick between your folds to prep himself as he stares at the influx of comments, half of which are begging him to put it inside of you, the other half begging for him to take a chance on them.
“I wish you guys could feel how wet she is.” Sunghoon grips himself and smacks his tip against your slit for emphasis. The wet noise picks up on the microphone and you’re quite shocked at how wet you’ve become with little time to recover between your last orgasm until now.
Sunghoon sinks in slowly. It’s like he wants to torture his followers with the way he inches himself in without rushing. He laughs when he watches all of the comments either asking him to start fucking you or to pull out entirely and find somebody new. None of that matters him when he’s got you looking pretty beneath him.
He sets a pace that gradually picks up speed and his audience can tell something’s different about him. Sunghoon’s built a reputation for fucking fast and hard, putting his partners in their place when they move even a hair out of line. He’s rough and demanding, talking down on his scene partner in a way that makes being degraded feel like they’ve reached a point of euphoria where nothing besides him matters.
But he’s taking his sweet time with you, building up a pace until he’s comfortable thrusting in and out of you without shaking the bed like he usually would. It feels different than his first time with you, too. Sunghoon isn’t manhandling you with his fingers gripping deep into your flesh to the point where you’re convinced it would leave marks for days. Instead, he’s holding your hand like he wants you to know here’s right there with you.
Sunghoon moves you position after position until you’ve come around him with your body pinned between his chest and his mattress. He follows soon after he watches the way your face contorts in pleasure, looking down at you like he can’t believe he’s getting to witness your orgasm.
Evidently, Sunghoon’s audience can’t believe he’s looking at you like this either. It’s a change of script. It’s abnormal for Sunghoon to treat his scene partner like a delicacy he wants to savor. They’re used to his unforgiving pace, hips moving so elegantly that his partners babble on and on about how lucky they are to be fucked by him.
Similarly, his comments are flooded with confusion and curiosity when he peppers your entire face with kisses.
They’re used to his brutal nature, finishing on tits or ass until he makes his parter thank him for a job well done before shutting the livestream off. The aftercare—cleaning his scene partner up and checking in with them for mental and physical’s sake—comes after all of the cameras are off to maintain this attitude. This is typically when Sunghoon discards his persona and regains consciousness as the typical Sunghoon away from the life of a camboy.
It’s surprising to his followers when they see him kiss you once your breathing has settled and when his own high has started to wear off. If you’re put off by his uncharacteristic tenderness, you don’t show it.
“So good for me,” he coos when he pushes himself off of you just to look down. Sunghoon looks at you with an expression you can’t read at this moment, but the warm smile he sends you makes your heart flutter.
Likewise, your sudden shyness makes butterflies erupt in his stomach. He wonders if his viewers can see.
***
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chantersboard · 1 day
Text
Lovely To Be Rained On With You
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Summary: 3K. Reader and Joel rush to find shelter from the storm
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, post-outbreak, oral f!receiving, unprotected PIV, creampie
A/N: okay I have spent so much time on here reading other Joel fics and enjoying myself so I kinda wanted to give back. but first of all I need to get three things off my chest. one, it's been a long time since I've written anything. two, this is my first writing The Last of Us. three, and probably most important as I beg for kindness, it's my first time writing smut. this has been sitting in my docs for too long so Imma just press post and walk away. enjoy! AO3
The weather was changing rapidly. Not long ago it had only been partly cloudy, but now, for as far as the eye could see, the sky was one massive, threatening cloud. The leaves danced on their branches as the gusting wind flowed through them; their rustling a constant melody accompanied by the quickening beat of two pairs of boots.
Tightening the grip on your rifle, you look up at the darkening sky. The weapon could protect you from a lot, but not from this. It had been four days since you left camp and it was still another day’s walk until you returned. 
There was no outrunning this storm.
A few feet ahead of you Joel Miller marches onward, his broad frame and long legs setting a rapid pace you struggle to keep up with. The pack on your back is overfilled and heavy with recently looted goods. It causes your steps to be slow, more cautious and measured. 
You take a deep breath, “Joel…?” you begin. You’re both thinking it. Someone has to say it out loud. “It’s gonna pour in any minute.”
His graying curls dance along with the leaves in the wind. He steps over a fallen tree then turns and offers his hand to help you over. You graciously accept it, sliding your fingers over his calloused hand. The weight of the bag digs into your shoulders as you step over. Had it not been for the heavy sack you would have been closer to camp by now, but those supplies are the sole reason the two of you journeyed so far away.
“I know,” he says as you join him on the other side of the log. 
“We’re too far from camp—”
“I know,” he repeats, his brows furrowing. He scouts the distance, bright eyes scanning left and right, through the trees and beyond. A bead of sweat slowly falls down his face, the unseasonable hot May weather demanding to be acknowledged.
“There was a cabin…” he trails off, lost in thought. You look ahead, only seeing trees. “D’you remember? Was it before or after all those alliums we saw?”
You think back and try to remember this area from a few days ago but a lot had happened since: Joel injured his shoulder wrestling with a jammed door; you found and promptly devoured a can of ravioli; there were two separate attacks with solitary infected; finding the motherlode of supplies in what looked like a doomsday prepper’s basement; oh, and then there was last night. 
Still riding the high of finding all those medical supplies and ammunition (and a bottle of bourbon), the two of you spent last evening in high spirits. You shared stories and laughed and drank. Joel hummed a tune that had you swaying your hips and smiling towards the obsidian sky. For a moment things felt so easy and normal. 
At some point that night, with only a sliver of the moon in the sky, you stumbled in the darkness and fell into Joel’s arms. You had looked up at him, your hand rested on his strong chest as you breathed in the scent of him. Your body tingled where his hands pressed into your waist. The stars twinkled above him as he smiled crookedly and whispered, “y’okay, sweetheart?” and you nearly confessed. Nearly told him how you truly felt about him. Nearly revealed you knew he watched you when he thought you couldn’t see. 
Nearly kissed his gorgeous face. 
But then he dropped his hands, the magic of the moment gone, and you swallowed your feelings. You fell asleep last night wishing things were different. Wishing Joel was yours. 
A single raindrop plopping on your forehead brings you back to the present. “We saw the cabin first,” you recall. “And then the flowers.”
Joel nods, walking forward even faster than he had before. He too must have felt a raindrop. 
The two of you continue onwards, the sky teasing you with singular drops of rain as you migrant the woodsy terrain. It doesn’t take long until you see them in the distance. 
Alliums. The purple flowers, towering high on skinny stalks, sway in the wind. The bulbous plant, petals like bursting fireworks, are scattered across the field. The sight of them brings you relief. It shouldn’t be much longer until you find the cabin. 
Just as you walk past the last bunch of flowers the sky begins to open up. The rain comes softly at first. Small drops that slide off your skin and moisten your clothing. Foolishly, you believe if it continues like this you’ll be fine. But as lightning shoots across the sky and thunder shakes your body, the drops grow heavier, their frequency increasing. 
The rain continues to fall harder as you trek on. The sound of water blanketing the land drowns out everything else. Joel turns and looks behind at you, his normally bouncy hair weighted down and plastered to his face. Another clap of thunder rings as the rain soaks through you. It seeps all the layers of your clothing, through your jeans, through your socks, pooling in your boots. 
Walking is becoming more difficult as your boots sink into the mud, your clothes are soaked through and heavy and your cumbersome backpack doesn’t help. You’re about to yell ahead, tell Joel it doesn’t even matter anymore, that you’re too tired, but then you see the cabin. 
It’s a tiny little thing. The sheltered patio leads into one cozy room. To your right is a kitchenette, directly in front of you is a small living space, and further back, against the wall rests a bed. There’s a closed off area there as well, presumably a bathroom. 
Joel crosses the cabin, his hand resting on the pistol holstered to his hip, and peers into the smaller room. His posture relaxes and he gives a quick nod. The cabin is safe. 
You rest your rifle against the wall by the door and unceremoniously drop your bag. Relief spreads through your bones. You arch your back and stretch your arms upwards, pulling the muscles along your spine. You glance across the room and there it is again—Joel is watching you. His eyes travel your body and linger where your soaked top clings to your chest.
He’s lost in the sight of you. You raise your arms higher, his gaze warming your cheeks and your core, and you push your chest further out to taunt him. The wet fabric is unforgiving and you're sure he can see your hardened nipples even from across the room. 
You decide to break the silence. “You think it will last long?”
Joel snaps to attention, his eyes finding yours as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Huh? What was that?”
“The storm,” you pause to lick your lips. “Do you think it’ll last long?”
Joel sets his backpack down at the head of the bed. “Not too sure,” he looks past you out the window at the turbulent weather, “regardless, we should stay here for the night.” He opens his bag and begins to rummage through it. 
You nod as you walk over to the foot of bed. With your back facing him you sit on the edge. “In that case I’m gonna get out of these clothes.”
You wrap your fingers under the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. You toss the clothing and it lands with a loud slap on the wooden floor. After kicking off your boots and socks you lift your hips off the bed enough to push your jeans to your thighs. You struggle to get the tight and stiff wet denim off your legs. 
You lean back on your forearms and look behind at Joel. He’s suddenly very interested in his bag. You watch as he digs around, the muscles in his arms pressing against his tee. His face is glistening wet and it highlights the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw. He’s just as handsome as always. 
“Hey, Joel?” You bite your lip and wait for his attention. 
His hands still as he looks down at you. “Yes, sweetheart?”
The endearment makes your heart swell. You swing your dangling legs. “Can you help me out of these? They’re giving me trouble.”
He looks at the jeans halfway down your thighs. You’ve changed in front of Joel before but after last night, after spending so much time alone with him, things have gotten intimate.  You feel exposed half undressed in your mismatched undergarments, but it’s also exciting and your breath quickens under Joel’s glare. 
“Yeah, I can help,” he nearly whispers. He drops his bag on the floor, the stuff within no longer important, and rounds the bed. You lift your legs when he gets close and await his touch. 
He holds your ankles first. Gathering the material there, he attempts to pull, but the jeans barely move. So his hands climb up, over your calves, then behind your knees, and when they reach your thighs he pauses. He hooks onto the edge of the material, his thick fingers touching your bare skin, and pulls.
The jeans start to give way. As he tugs your body jostles, your breasts bouncing lightly in your worn bra, each jerk becoming more arousing. Once he’s peeled your pants off he discards them onto the floor along with your shirt. 
“There ya go,” he says as he comes between your legs and leans in. “Will you be needin’ anything else?”
He looks at you, his eyes intense and questioning. He’s so close you can feel his body heat, even with his cool wet shirt brushing against your bare torso. A flash of lightning briefly brightens the room. You swallow hard and wait for the resounding thunder. You won’t repeat last night. You won’t let this moment pass. 
“Kiss me,” you whisper. 
And suddenly Joel’s lips are pressed against yours. He kisses you hungrily, mashing himself against you, finally feeding the longing you’ve both felt for some time. You part your mouth and allow his tongue entry as you melt into him. You explore each other, your hands running along his chest as you’re rendered breathless under his kissing. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You pull at the fabric wanting to feel his skin against yours. 
Joel breaks from the heated kiss and straightens his body. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he yanks his shirt off. You watch him as you scoot back on the bed and fully lay down. He kicks off his boots and undoes his belt and jeans. His body is strong from years of manual labor. There’s a line of hair on his soft belly that trails under his boxers.  
“What else do you need, sweetheart?”
You can’t tell if the roaring in your ears is the sound of the rain or of your quickly beating heart. Joel waits for your answer as he unclips the gun holster from his belt and rests it on the floor. His hardening cock springs free when he drops his pants and boxers. 
He strokes himself slowly and you watch as his cock gets harder in his grasp. You rub your thighs together, desperately seeking relief for the growing ache between your legs. You unclasp your bra and cup your breasts. Joel softly grunts when you pinch your nipples between your fingers. 
The sight of him bare and beautiful leaves you breathless. He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back and glossy from the rain. The sight of his cock, hard and ready for you, sets you on fire. He licks his lips and all you can think about is those lips on you. On your mouth, on your tits, on your cunt. You have never wanted someone so badly. 
“You, Joel,” you finally say. “I need you.”
He smiles at your answer and makes his way onto the bed. He takes his time crawling up to you, planting kisses along the way. He pauses when he meets the apex of your legs. 
His fingers curl around the band of your panties and he pulls them down and off. You open your legs, inviting him in, so desperate for his touch. 
He looks up with hungry eyes. “I want to taste you,” he says as his fingers part your pussy lips, opening you even further for him. 
Joel opens his mouth and presses his tongue against your cunt. He licks up, takes his time savoring you until he passes over your sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation has you moaning and lifting your hips to meet his mouth. 
“Oh, Joel,” you whine as he continues sucking and licking you, alternating between the flat of his tongue and the point of his tip. One of his large fingers finds the entrance to your hole and pushes inside. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he mumbles into your folds. “One of my fingers isn’t enough, is it?”
Your hands run through his hair as he inserts another finger inside you, your walls clenching around him. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them into the spot within you that has you moaning his name. 
Your pleasure grows as Joel finds his rhythm, his mouth and hand working together to bring you closer and closer to orgasm. 
“Please, Joel,” you’re begging, pleading with him. “Don’t stop! I’m so close, please don’t stop!”
So he doesn’t. His moans join your screams of pleasure until the pressure in your core finally snaps. Your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm rips through you. Joel’s fingers continue to work through your high, prolonging your pleasure until your legs relax and your grip loosens from his hair. 
“Fuck,” you exhale as Joel crawls up, his strong body caging around you. He leans into you, the touch of his skin on yours and the weight of him soothing your body. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck as one of his hands squeezes your breast, his fingers playfully twisting your nipple. 
He’s planting kisses on you again, on your neck, along your jaw, then on your lips. You moan when you taste your own release on his tongue as he slips it between your lips. You spread your legs further underneath him, a fire burning in your core that only he can put out. His cock rests thick and hard between you. 
“I still need you,” you whisper, lifting your hips to grind yourself against the length of him. You need all of him, every pound and every inch. You need his touch, his lips, his moans. You need him around you. You need him in you. 
He grunts as you rub against him, your wet hole eager to be filled. 
“I need you too,” he whispers back as he reaches in between your bodies. He grabs himself and aligns the thick head of his cock at your entrance. 
You whimper as he slowly pushes himself inside you. Inch by inch your walls stretch to accommodate his shaft. Seeds of pleasure start to grow when he’s fully inserted into you. 
Joel stills inside you and looks into your eyes. His face is twisted in bliss. “Goddamn, your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he rasps. He sharply exhales when you flex your cunt around him. 
You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. He begins to pump his hips then, making soft shallow thrusts until he’s gotten used to the feeling of you. He moans into your mouth as he picks up the pace, nearly pulling himself out of you entirely before plummeting back into your depths. 
His dick is intoxicating. Waves of pleasure wash over you each time he rams himself deep in you. He fills you completely, your wet hole stretching around the length of him. 
Joel begins stroking faster, his hips snapping into you at a blinding pace. Your fingers dig into his back when he rocks into the spot that makes you arch your back and moan his name. 
He smiles, satisfied with the pleasure his cock gives you. “Right there?” He asks as he continues to mercilessly drill into you, pounding your sweet spot over and over again. 
“Yea—oh my god, Joel—yes!”
He’s already pushing you towards your next orgasm and he can sense it. He repositions your bodies, folding you nearly in half as he brings your knees up. 
You scream out as the altered position lets him stroke deeper inside you. His cock hits your cervix, pain and pleasure meshing together, forcing you closer to the edge. 
“You like that, sweetheart?” Joel asks as your moans increase in volume. “Look at your pretty pussy juices making a mess… so fucking wet.”
You look down where the two of you are connected. You watch as he disappears inside you and then reappears again, shiny with your slick. The image makes your head spin. 
“I… oh fuck! I’m gonna… I’m gonna—”
“You’re gonna cum on my cock for me? Huh?” His strokes are becoming more erratic, his own orgasm approaching. “Gonna let me feel that pussy grip my dick while you cum?”
Joel’s filthy words combined with his dick destroying your cunt sends you over. You yell out as your orgasm knocks over you. Your pussy pulsates around Joel, pushing him over the edge. You milk his cock as he cums, his dick twitching inside you as his warm seed fills your hole. 
The two of you lay there a while, Joel softening inside you as his body envelopes yours. When your body has relaxed and your breathing has slowed Joel softly presses his lips to yours. He rises and slowly pulls out. You feel your combined arousal spill out of you once he’s completely out of the warmth of your cunt. You immediately miss the fullness he gave you when he rolls over to lay beside you. 
The storm continues on outside. Fat raindrops pellet the cabin and the wind rattles the windows. Staying in was a good call, the sky was already darkening with the approaching night. 
You look over to Joel. His eyes are closed, his face is soft and relaxed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so calm before.
“Y’okay, sweetheart,” you ask, mirroring Joel’s words from last night. 
Joel chuckles as he intertwines his fingers in yours. “Yeah. I am now.”
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
Note
Hi!! I loved your aftercare hcs! Could I do a request where the reader is babysitting Estelle for the night since Paul and Sally have gone on a date and Percy comes home and finds reader and Estelle asleep cuddled up together?
girl's night
• the reader babysits Estelle and Percy finds them asleep.
— percy jackson x mortal!reader
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warnings: none
a/n: hello! What a nice request, I hope I did it justice. 😭 Also, thank you!
It all started with a:
— Yes, Mrs. Jackson. I'll be there, don't worry.
Because it was your chance to gain Sally Jackson's trust. People who know her know that this opportunity is like gold, something not even a god would dare mess up or decline. But beyond that (since she was practically your mother-in-law), you cared about something else: Estelle.
Your boyfriend’s little sister. She was tiny, still unsteady on her feet, but already full of energy, and you loved the idea of bonding with her from such a young age. So, that's how you ended up agreeing to babysit her for a night while Sally and Paul went out on a date, which you thought was admirable and exemplary, that romance never dies even after starting a family.
You wondered for a moment if life with Percy would be like that too. Despite his life as a demigod and the differences between how you two were raised, you could see his dream of living peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones. You wanted to believe that when he talked about those hopes, you were included, and of course, you were.
You wished he could be with you, but not even Percy knew you were going to babysit Estelle. You saw him too worried about godly issues and his college graduation, even though he was on break. But you knew that life never stopped and you didn’t mind as long as he let you help, even if it was just by listening.
— Darling! — Sally Jackson exclaimed as she opened the apartment door, and you stood there, mouth agape. She looked stunning in a red dress, reminiscent of that movie "Me Before You." Paul peeked through the door while adjusting one of his funny ties.
— Mrs. Jackson — She chuckled, preferring you to call her Sally, but you couldn’t drop the formalities.
They showed you what there was to eat, talked a bit about Estelle’s schedule, but after that, they just looked at you with a confident smile.
— You'll do great, dear — Paul said, kissing Sally's forehead. You couldn’t understand how they could entrust you with their most precious thing without giving strict rules.
— Her bedtime? — The question seemed funny because they just shook their heads.
— Estelle doesn't struggle much with sleep; it’ll be obvious when she’s tired.
And when they left the apartment, you looked behind you. There she was, waving her tiny hand while giggling.
— It's just us, Estelle — You said, sitting next to her as she kept watching something on TV, something more important than your obvious nervousness.
You wondered if she would just watch the screen the whole time, if you only had to give her snacks when she got hungry and make sure she slept at a decent hour. You were pondering this when you felt a tug on your hand. You looked at her, and she was shaking some coloring pages and a worn-out crayon. Where had she gotten that? When?
She said something you wanted to interpret as, "Let's color, and you'll like it, or I'll tell everyone you're no the one for my brother." Well, maybe not, but it felt like that.
You picked her up and took her to the wooden table where the family usually had dinner, making her comfortable with some pillows to adjust her height. But even then, Estelle stood up and started coloring.
You had your own page and couldn’t remember the last time you colored, so your hand moved a bit clumsily, and being so focused, you didn’t see her hand make you go out of the lines. You looked at her, and she grinned widely, but you knew she didn’t do it on purpose; she was just calling you to see her progress, a scribbled bear with at least five different colors. You smiled genuinely and gave her a thumbs-up, which she took as the best critique of her art.
The night went like that, and you never thought such a small child could teach you so much.
When you made cookies, seeing her face reminded you of the joy in just making them, not so much eating them or how they turned out.
When you watched her favorite cartoons, you remembered what it was like to watch something without guilt or the worry that you should be doing something better or more productive.
When she decided she wanted to dance, you remembered that music could be missing, but never the attitude and good moves.
Estelle ended up holding your hand as you regularly straightened the cushions and rug, making sure nothing was too messy. When you smiled, she did too, and she didn’t let go of you all night.
Finishing up washing the dishes, you looked down to see Estelle next to your feet, sitting on the floor playing with some toys while waiting for you. You stopped to watch her for a moment, seeing so much of Sally in her, but also unmistakable traits of Paul, and in her attitude, you saw Percy. Maybe because he was her big brother after all. Estelle brought her little feet together and touched her toes, lost in whatever a child her age might be thinking when you saw her rub her eyes. That was your signal.
— Estelle — You called softly, and she looked at you with sleepy, shiny eyes. You extended your arms, and she got up to do the same, and you picked her up, rocking her, but she seemed to realize what you were trying to do.
— No — She said clearly. You were startled as she hid her face in your neck, clinging to you. You weren’t an expert, but you knew what it meant, so you sat down with her on the couch, placing her properly on your lap.
— It’s okay — You lied, feeling bad about it even though you knew you had to. You put on a new movie to make her think she’d stay awake, but your trick was to make her fall asleep, though you didn’t plan on falling asleep yourself. You hugged her and got comfortable, the best cuddle ever because she kept holding onto you as you slowly closed your eyes.
You never heard the key in the lock, the quiet footsteps on the floor, nor the warm greeting from your boyfriend, who wasn’t expecting to find you cuddled up with Estelle on the couch, sleeping soundly.
— Babe? — He asked softly, checking to see if you were really asleep. He set the keys down and took off his hoodie, dirtied from some... incidents.
His blue eyes scanned the apartment for his mom or Paul but found no sign of them, leading him to realize why you were there. He walked over to you two with quiet steps until he was face to face with an image no one could take from him. Two of his favorite people, seemingly fond of each other, filled his heart with love, and he kissed both your foreheads. Unfortunately, you woke up, and he couldn’t help but pout.
— Sorry — You mumbled, blurry-eyed and disoriented from your nap, realizing it was Percy. He was smiling, kneeling at your level.
— Percy — You murmured, rubbing your eyes and feeling another weight on your chest, going rigid as you remembered. Your boyfriend noticed your fear of waking her. He extended his arms and picked up Estelle so you could get up normally.
— Having fun without me? — He asked with his sister on his chest, rocking to keep her in the land of Hypnos. You stretched, smiling sleepily.
— There was no way to tell you — He nodded, seeing your phone on the carpet, feeling a bit bad for not being able to carry a phone to stay in touch. He often spent days away, and no one knew where he was, not even you.
— I’ll put Estelle to bed — He whispered, and you nodded, struggling to keep your eyes open in his direction, making him chuckle. Before leaving, he leaned in with his sister in his arms to kiss you.
— Be right back.
You nodded and stood to check the living room. You only had to straighten the cushions and put the chairs back in place before Percy hugged you from behind. At his touch, you hummed, feeling a wave of sleepiness brought on by the calm of having him there, finally safe.
— Hey — He greeted, still whispering, and you rested your head on his shoulder, giving him enough space to plant a warm kiss on your neck. With no immediate response from you, he held you tighter and kissed your cheek, wanting to support you so you didn’t have to put in so much effort.
— I’m okay — You said, realizing what he was trying to do, but he quickly lifted you bridal style, making his way back to the couch.
— Shh, I’ll take care of you. — He soothed while sitting with you, and you wrapped your arms around him, sharing your sleepiness. You rested your head on his chest, and he pulled the blanket from the corner to cover you both.
You sighed calmly, almost falling asleep when you sniffed your boyfriend's shirt once, twice, three times. Groggy, you kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear
— You smell like monster, Percy Jackson — He smiled, and you mirrored it.
— Things got tough — He said slowly, resting his cheek on your head, almost stumbling over words.
— Hmm — You hummed starting to fall asleep, and you both did it.
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ham1lton · 10 hours
Note
50 + jenson button where he goes to readers childhopd room and sees loads of photos of old f1 stars (and him)👀
050. a childhood home or bedroom w/ JB22.
— part of a series of drabbles! <3
you had been seeing jenson for a little while. he was seemingly perfect. you both got along incredibly well, he was funny and obviously very attractive so when your family asked if he could come along for your biweekly sunday dinner, you obviously said yes. if you’d known what was going to happen, you would have said no.
“is that me?” jenson laughed as he walked into your bedroom. you hadn’t been home in a while, so you had completely forgotten about your decor which comprised of young jenson, young lewis, young nico and young sebastian plastered all over your walls.
“i was young!” you attempted to defend yourself, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. why hadn’t your mother taken these down? but at least, you know that your parents were so out of touch with celebrity culture that they never would have thought that the jenson in the poster was the same one lounging on your hello kitty themed bed.
jenson grinned as he stepped closer to inspect the posters. "wow, i never knew i had such a dedicated fan," he teased, tracing a finger over his younger self's face.
you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "i was a teenager! we all have our embarrassing phases."
he laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. "it's kind of adorable, actually. but now i feel like i have a lot to live up to. do i still meet your expectations?"
you peeked through your fingers, meeting his playful gaze. "you've exceeded them, honestly."
just then, your mother called from downstairs. "dinner's ready! jenson, we're excited to get to know you!"
you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the evening ahead. "ready to face the family?"
jenson reached out, taking your hand in his. "as long as you're with me, i think i can handle anything."
as you both headed downstairs, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. dinner started off well enough; your family was sweet and welcoming, and jenson's natural charisma shone through, easing your nerves.
but then, just as you were beginning to relax, your younger brother piped up. "you know, you look a lot like that racer dude on the posters in my sister's room."
your father's eyebrows shot up. "racer?"
before you could intervene, jenson chuckled and said, "it's true. i used to be a formula 1 driver."
there was a moment of stunned silence. your mother blinked in surprise, and your father's face split into a wide grin. "no kidding! my daughter has had those posters up since she was a kid. she was obsessed with racing!"
you cringed, wishing the ground would swallow you up. but jenson squeezed your hand reassuringly. "well, i guess you could say she has good taste."
your family laughed, and to your relief, the conversation shifted back to more mundane topics. as the evening wore on, you found yourself relaxing again, especially as jenson handled your family's questions and quirks with ease.
later, as you walked him to his car, jenson turned to you with a smile. "your family is great. and the posters... well, they make me feel like i've been a part of your life for longer than i knew."
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "honestly? i'm just glad you didn't run for the hills.”
he hummed and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "not a chance. besides, who wouldn't want to date their biggest fan?"
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vxnuslogy · 2 days
Text
𐙚 the poets department.
— or in which i associate certain ttpd songs with (some) honkai star rail men.
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— warnings: angst if you squint
— author's notes: notice how jing yuan is the only one who had a happy part? banner credits to @cafekitsune please check them out they make very pretty banners <3
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𐙚  BLADE    ;    THE PROPHECY
blade has never known peace ever since his betrayal with an old friend. 
he yearns and yearns for his time to finally come. howling like a crazed wolf at the moon whenever the mara trapped in his body strikes and every time he’d gaze longingly, wishing to be taken back to time where he and his old friends would sit under the moon drinking their sorrows away. blade didn’t care if the graying hairs on his head spoke of his eventual departure; so long as his friends would remember him fondly then he’d die in peace with no complaints.
but now, every waking hour, he waits for destiny’s slave to write down his death on his script.
he was a monster, cursed to eternal loneliness,  and yet that didn’t stop you from treating him with kindness. little old you who frets over him like a nagging but loving mother. greeting him with a smile that made feelings he buried deep within his chest start to resurface.
maybe this was the “death” he’s been hoping for; blade would die from all the yearning he has for you.
all the times you would keep him company after tiring missions did his cracking heart no good. the urge to throw himself into danger just so you could patch him up; yearning for the arms that reminded him of a home that’s long gone. how he wouldn’t be ashamed to stare at you or your hands, wanting to hold them in his own calloused ones. he doesn’t shrug off the thoughts of you from his mind but he’d cut off his own arm before they could ever reach you.
in blade’s mind, you were too good for him. something he’ll come to destroy one day and he didn’t even dare to imagine how that would affect him. now, instead of waiting for destiny’s slave to write out his death, he hopes that he finds a few more reasons to stay longer, for your sake.
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𐙚  DAN FENG   ;    IMGONNAGETYOUBACK
what petty rivalry you and the high elder had. always trying your best to one-up him at anything and everything but ultimately failing while dan feng laughed in amusement in your seething bitterness. but the high elder couldn’t deny the feelings of endearment whenever you show up with jing yuan and others to drink, or how you show him the new weapon yingxing had crafted for you. challenging him to another sparring session while the others watched in the sidelines with amusement.
oh how you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck when you caught wind of his plans to try and resurrect his fallen comrade, making yingxing his accomplice in the process.
the way his eyes started to crack with panic as you pulled your bowstring back and aimed an arrow straight to his heart. but dan feng knew, you knew as well, that you wouldn’t actually let the arrow go and kill him even if you say otherwise. in the end, you lowered your weapon as the high elder was escorted to the shackling prison.
before he was forced to be reborn into a new reincarnation, you visited him and how you wished to punch that knowing smile off his face. you exchange brief pleasantries before you ultimately get fed up with his nonsense. all the while you ignore the shouts of his promise in his next life.
sneak him out of the prison, run away somewhere far from the luofu or to turn your back on your first love, it didn’t matter. both choices were poison either way.
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𐙚  DAN HENG   ;    PETER
how many years have passed since you thought of him? better yet, why do you still think of him? why do you feel a wave of ambivalent emotions when you see his new incarnation?
 when your eyes met for a brief moment, you had turned away quickly. muttering a soft apology to the merchant you were speaking to a moment ago as you sped walked your way back home. oh how you wish your feelings for the previous high elder would die just like him.
how you hate the way your heart replayed the days spent with him under the sun as he argued that he’d recognize you in every lifetime; the ocean deep promises to find you in every life. you wonder if he remembers you now.
by the time the sun had risen again, he was right there. just a few feet away from you while you carry documents for the master diviner. you hated the way your feet refused to move as he strides towards you, a smile you remember all too well on his face as he offered you a hairpin.
“i remembered, like i promised.”
oh how pitiful was it of you as you dropped the papers in your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him a tight embrace. you didn't want to admit that you had been waiting for his return, but truly, love is never lost when perspective is earned.
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𐙚  JING YUAN   ;    THE ALCHEMY
it was quite a sight to behold really. the great apprentice of the luofu’s sword champion, on the ground with you pointing a wooden sword at his throat with a victorious smile.
you reveled in the compliments your peers gave you but eventually grew tired of how jing yuan would annoy to no end. you were this close to asking his master to cut him from the training sessions. but you don’t deny the way your cheeks flush after every sparring session jing yuan would win, he’d come running to you, asking if you were watching.
you’d hope that when he grew older he’d at least grow a mature bone in his body, oh how wrong you were. how was it possible that the same kid you’d beaten to a pulp would grow to be taller than you and even more annoying. 
his relentless teasing when you couldn’t land as much hits as you did when the two of you were just kids nearly sent you spiraling over the edge. poor yingxing had to listen to your rants for hours on end, sometimes even kicking you out of his workshop so he could actually get some work done.
but despite all of his annoyingness and your wishes for him to mature, you will never grow tired of him running straight towards you after every victory he’s won under his belt. jing yuan has made it known to everyone that your name was etched into his heart, and really, who were you to fight the alchemy?
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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tinydefector · 3 days
Text
IRON GIANT 2
Optimus prime x human
Warnings: none.
Word count: 2.3k
Is this becoming one of my favourite pieces? Yes, it is. So enjoy more of the dadimus agender.
1
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__________
It's nearly a week later when the sound of little footsteps echo through the forest again. Optimus had taken to using the cave as a sanctuary, he was away from people, war and causing anymore harm; it was his peaceful spot to coexist with the life of earth. He had taken to watching his step a lot more. 
"Oppy!, Oppy!" The voice of the child calls out in the forest from different areas of the small meadow. Optimus onlined his optics slowly as familiar foot fall neared, accompanied by an eager call he had not expected to hear again so soon. Unfurling from his rest against the cave wall, he peered out into the dappled forest light just in time to see the youngling break into the clearing, they continued calling out. 
"Here, little spark," he rumbled gently, not wishing to startle. His chassis gave a rumble of quiet amusement as they raced over to grasp a digit in childish enthusiasm, peering up at him through delicate facial features wrought only for joy and new discovery. 
"Oppy! I knew I'd find you!" they declared proudly, patting his hand. Pars working, I come to play! You wanna see berris? I picked pretty colours for you!" Bright optics shone with innocent invitation, as if this massive metal being was not so different from the little one smiling up at him. 
Settling back with a faint creak, Optimus regarded them fondly. "I would be honoured to see your findings, little one." The child slowly rummages through their pockets pulling out crumpled flowers, berries, rocks and dirt, eagerly showing it to the Large bot who's hand they sit on. "Oh look, look! I drew this for you!" They exclaimed as they pulled out a drawing. It's a crude yet adorable child drawing of Optimus. "It's You!" They state proudly.
Optimus gingerly accepted the well-worn offering, optics crinkling with gentle humour and affection as he examined the unmistakably drawing of himself, however simplified.
"You have quite the artistic talent, little spark," he rumbled warmly, carefully stowing the drawing within his chassis to keep safe. "I shall treasure this." 
As they continued showing findings, however, his sensors pinged softly, noting the absence of their guardian. Brightening optics subtly scanned the trees, playing drones searching for any signs of the guardian... but none appeared. 
A faint thread of concern wove through his field. "Little one, where did you leave your carrier today?" he asked gently after a moment. "Oh, oh! Pars at home. Just the other side of the meadow!," another toothy grin spreads across their face. 
Optimus is more worried about the young child wandering off without their guardians knowledge, he slowly walks out into the sunlight with them in his hand. anxiety rising though his systems. They were too young yet to wander so freely alone in the forest unguided. 
Stepping carefully out into the dappled sunlight, he turned optics down to them and rumbled in his gentlest tones, "It is not safe for you to wander away from their carrier's care, little one. What if you stumbled upon dangers I was not near to help?." His voice is ever soft as he talks to them.  Shifting his hand, he lifted them up to optic level and tapped their tiny nose softly with a digit. "Let us return you home swiftly, less your guardian finds you missing." striding with utmost care and speed towards where he remembered the meadow lay. 
A set of eyes flicker up as they hear their loud steps, the crunching of branches and the loud voice of their child. They look up from working in a garden, planting vegetables. They look up worried for a second before seeing their child with the large red and blue robot. "Baby I told you, no going into the meadows without me!" They call out as they stand and begin walking towards Optimus. They are covered in a mix of soil, mulch and fertiliser. 
Optimus bowed his helm apologetically as the youngling's carrier approached with concern clear upon their features. Stopping a respectful distance away, he carefully lowered his hand and helped the little one slide to the ground between them. 
"Your child came to my shelter with gifts of drawings, yet when seeking their guardian’s presence I discovered them wandering alone and brought them swiftly back." He explains. 
They slowly check their child as they pull their cheek lightly. "No wandering without me baby, I mean it, what would have happened if Optimus wasn't there and you got hurt?" They ask the child. The little one just smiles at them without a care or worry. "Thank you Optimus, sorry they seem to have a skill with disappearing and finding trouble" they state with a sigh.
Optimus vented quietly, field radiating amusement. "No apology is needed," he rumbled gently. Turning down to the child now regarding him with less enthusiasm, he continued in a rumble barely louder than a murmur but meant only for young audials, "Your carrier speaks wisdom, little one. These forests hold wonders, but also perils for ones as small as you. Promise you'll not stray from home again, hmm?."
Rising once more to his full height, though still kneeling, he paused watching them together, there was something about this that made his spark ache. "Go have a bath bub" they state to their child giving them a quick kiss to the forehead. “ahhh par you are stinky!” They squeal and take off running into the house. "Bath!, bath!, bath!" They yell in excitement. It makes their parent sigh with a shake of their head. "Don't use all the Hot water!" They yell out.
Optimus' optics crinkled with gentle amusement as the child raced off squealing. his plating shifted in a subtle shrug. "Younglings possess a boundless energy and curiosity it appears," he rumbled. 
They slowly try wiping dirt off their face. "Can I get you anything, I'm not sure if you eat or drink but is there anything I can get you?"
"You know you don't have to stay in that cave, you're more than welcome to stay in the barn if you wish" they hum with a smile. For a moment Optimus was surprised by the thoughtful offer, not used to such easy generosity. His optics softened earnestly even as his sensors subtly noted details of the little homestead and its assorted life - taking in the moment watching the small farmhouse and barn, a small collection of many animals linger on the property.
"You are too kind," he rumbled gratefully. Although space within his plating felt... empty, lately, in ways repair and recharge did not mend. He lingers watching as They head inside, helping their child wash up. “ You know one of these days you're gonna get yourself in real trouble you know that kiddo” They huff as they scrub their back. Small giggles leave the child as they throw bubbles back. “But Oppy was out there I wanted to say hi!” They state. 
“and what would happen if he wasn't there, baby. You could have gotten hurt” they sigh. Slowly drying their kid off before letting them race around the house. Making dinner and getting them set for the night is a chore in itself. It's only when the phone rings do they let out a tired sigh, answering it. 
 "Yea, yea I can do that Murphy, I'll be in, in 30 just let me get dressed and put my kid to bed" they state. After the phone call they move around getting dressed quickly. "Baby I've gotta go to work, remember the rules about what to do if I'm not home?" They ask the child. "Mmhmm! I stay inside, lock the doors, don't answer for anyone but you, Par! Can Oppy stay and watch me please?" the little one asks with the biggest pleading eyes, still towelling off damp hair. "Please par? I promise to be good, and not wander, if Oppy watches till your home?" 
"I will ask him but you need to go to bed soon it's getting late" they state while pressing another kiss to their forehead. They are quickly out the door. "Sorry I've got to go to work, would you mind just watching them to make sure they don't wander" they ask softly to Optimus. As they head out to their car. 
"It is no trouble," he rumbled gently, bowing his massive helm in easy acceptance. Settling just outside where his pedes would not disturb soil, Optimus' optics dimmed in contentment as he slowly sank to sit beside the house. "Oppy, watch a movie?" They ask while moving the TV so Optimus can watch through the window. 
his optics flicker gently toward the tiny gaze regarding him through the transparent barrier. "As you wish, little one," he rumbled softly, dipping his chin in a nod. Adjusting his massive bulk carefully so as not to shake the dwelling's foundation, he folded his pedes aside and rested intake against powerful arms, 
 The starting of the movie, excitedly showing him the Iron Giant. “Look look its you!” they say excitedly while pointing to the metal man on screen. " He comes from space just like you!" They state excitedly. Orion's optics brightened keenly as the child excitedly guided his attention to images upon the screen, quickly parsing scenarios and recognizing similarities between fictional depiction and aspects of his own frame and past. 
"Fascinating," he rumbled softly. Looking down with a gentle tilt of helm to meet shining eyes gazing up at him in awe, his field pulsed with warmth. "It would seem he and i are in similar situations." 
Turning audio receptors attentively back to the story unfolding, great hands carefully gathered tiny one closer within his palm, sheltering them in one massive digit as together they watched adventures of the unlikely bond between alien visitor and human child unfold. 
As the movie plays on they continue explaining things to Optimus. The large bot focuses in as the movie shows a little boy saving the large bot from a power plant and how their friendship slowly evolves. It makes him see the parallel with his own situation. As it gets to the scene with the Deer, it makes Optimus' spark ache, remembering what had happened only a week ago when he had stepped on a deer. “ Ah I see why you refer to me as the Iron Giant” he states ever so softly.  Within some time the child is asleep on the couch. Optimus can feel the rain clouds rolling in and decides it's time to retreat into the barn for the night. Transforming down into his alt mode, systems powered down into minimal low-energy mode as the rains began. The little one had drifted into recharge as intended, and his duty for now was fulfilled.
It's a peaceful night until the thunder starts. Cries break through the air. Setting Optimus fuel lines a blaze with true terror hearing the child crying out.
Optimus systems roared instantly back to full alert status at the first crack of thunder and subsequent crying, Transforming smoothly and silently into root mode once more, he began querying sensors for signs of harm - but quickly pinpointed the source as the small one rightfully frightened by nature's fury. The small patterns of foot fall along the wet ground echo's as they run into the barn, meeting his blue optics in fear. 
 "Little one, it is alright. Its only the sky." Holding out palm upturned, 
"It's scary, it's after me!" They cry out.A pang of sorrow shot through Optimus core at the terror in those tiny words, and he responded without pause - tiny arms had barely reached him before he folded massive digits as gently as his construction allowed around them, lifting and tucking them close to his broad chestplate in a cradling hold.
"Shh, little one," he murmured, the steadfast thrum of his own mighty spark resonating against their frame. "The thunder cannot harm you, I promise." he leaned carefully back against the barn walls, free hand coming up to form a shelter around them as the storm raged on outside. "Listen to my sparkbeat," he whispered through the noise, They pull their stuffy and blanket closer. Pressing themself into Optimus’ chest flinching every time the loud thunder echoes in the distance. Snuggling closer to him hoping he will chase away the monster in the storm.
Optimus core ached anew at each flinch of tiny form against his own, Curving lithe digits ever-so-carefully around the little one and their favoured possessions, he cradled them close as any carrier would. 
 "Listen to my pulse, little spark," he murmured softly between cracks above, voice a low, calm anchor in the chaos. "No monster dares face a Prime. I have you." Dipping his helm, Optimus brushed a tender kiss of metal against their head, They eventually fell back asleep snuggled against his form. He powers back down. Locking his systems so that no harm would come to them by him moving in recharge.
When dawn's light broke anew over gentle fields, his core pulsed gratitude for the reminder that life went ever on, even in darkness' wake. And as tiny optics fluttered open to his calm regard once more, he knew true purpose and solace would await wherever innocence required shelter and guardians stood watch.
It's very early morning when they finally arrive home, drained as the head towards the door keys in hand. When they go to open the door only to discover it's unlocked. Cold fear runs through their veins, they move towards the barn with speed. Optimus systems powered alertly at the barn door's opening, yet he remained as still as possible, not wishing to disturb the little one's recharge. Lifting weary optics, A digit raised gently to his intake. “shhhh” he calls out softly. 
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delicatebarness · 1 day
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cry baby | chapter three
Summary: Not your average day out, well, maybe for The Avengers it is.
Warning: Minimum Violence. John Walker.
Word Count: 1374
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A/N: JACKET. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree
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The aroma of coffee filled the small space of your kitchen, and the events at the restaurant and the fallout weighed heavily on your mind. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a soft knock at your door. 
Opening it, you found Bucky standing there, looking slightly disheveled. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after last night.”
You stepped aside, letting him enter. With a grateful smile, you nodded. “I just made some coffee, would you like some?” 
His eyes scanned the room as if he was ensuring everything was in place as he walked in. “I’d love some, please, Sweetheart,” he smiled, turning back at you. Dark shadows clung beneath his eyes, the whites of them were threaded with red veins as his lids struggled to stay open. “I didn’t get much sleep.” 
You poured two mugs, handing one to Bucky. “I know you told him about John,” you said softly, leading him to the couch. 
“I’m not sorry about that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Steve should have done more damage,” he mumbled under his breath.
You sighed, sitting next to him and bringing your knees up to your chest. “I just wish it hadn’t come to that. Steve shouldn’t be in fights because of me,”
Bucky turned his gaze to you, softening at the thought of your worry. “That wasn’t your fault, Steve did what any brother would, and John… well, he’s not worth your time or concern.”
His presence helped steady your emotions, comforting you. He had a way of keeping you grounded, making you feel safe. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, meeting his gaze. “For everything.”
He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Always.” 
As you found a comfortable silence lacing itself between you, the familiar massage tone of both phones pinged together. Reaching for them in sync, you read the message. ‘They’ve taken Steve in, again.’ Your heart sank.
“Walker,” Bucky mumbled as he stared at his phone, sighing. You closed your eyes, a wave of guilt washing over you. “It’s not your fault,” Bucky reassured you, cupping your face, the cold metal soothing your flushed skin. “Let’s go get him.” 
Nodding in agreement, you raised from your seat and settled your mug down on the coffee table. Grabbing your keys, you began to race toward the door. Bucky cleared his throat moments before you reached for the handle, grabbing your attention.
He held out his jacket toward you, gesturing toward your attire. The adrenaline coursing through you caused you to forget you had yet to change out of your nightwear. Mumbling a thank you toward him, you slipped into his jacket, letting the leather material surround your body.
~
The ride to the police station was a blur, your mind replayed the events of the previous night. Every what-if raced through your thoughts. 
When you entered the police station, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda were already waiting inside for Steve. “Have you seen him yet?” you asked, as Bucky went over to the front desk. 
Sam shook his head, concern shown on his face. “Not yet. They’re questioning him now. They haven’t given us anything, yet.” 
Natasha rose from her seat in the waiting area, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. “He’ll be okay, we’ve been here before.” 
Bucky returned from the front desk, his face masking a barely restrained anger. “Walker’s really pushing himself this time.” 
A confused look washed over your features, “This time?” you asked, gazing up at Bucky, searching for answers in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?” 
Wanda put a reassuring hand on your back, “Walker wants what Steve has,” she spoke, and a heavy tension began to weigh in the air. “You know, the authority, the bar’s respect…” she continued as she gestured around the station.
“He’s just trying to provoke us,” Sam suspected, as his gaze met yours, you felt smaller than usual around your friends as you realized your part in this. “He knew getting to you would do that.” 
Your gaze tried to avoid all of theirs, feeling humiliated. Wrapping Bucky’s jacket tighter around your body, you found an empty seat and sank into it.
The minutes felt like hours as you waited. Suddenly, the door to one of the interview rooms opened, and it wasn’t who you were hoping for. John emerged, looking smug and satisfied. His gaze met yours for a brief moment, a smirk across his face. 
Before you could react, Bucky was across the room. He grabbed John by the collar and slammed him against the wall with force, the entire station went silent. “Is there a problem, guard dog?” John spat as he tried to maintain his composure.
Bucky’s grip tightened, his voice a growl. “Listen, Walker. If you ever,” another slam, “go near her again, you’ll have more than just Steve to worry about.” 
“Barnes!” Officer Fury, who dealt with your group on numerous occasions, called out as he approached. “Not here,” the man tried to squeeze himself between the two men. 
Reluctantly, Bucky let go and took a step back. Fury placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder, guiding him out of the station. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.” 
Straightening his collar, he shot one last venomous look at you before turning and walking out of the station. 
Fury sighed as he turned to Bucky, shaking his head. “Keep it together, Barnes. You know the drill, don’t let him get the best of you.” Bucky nodded as he looked over at you.
Within seconds, another interview room door opened, this time, Steve walked out. You immediately rose from your seat and rushed over to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle with a lace of tiredness. 
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Forget me, what about you?” 
Pulling back slightly, Steve looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m good. Fury’s got our backs, letting me off with a warning.”
You glanced over at Fury, sending him a grateful smile as he gave you a reassuring nod. “Just keep it in the bar,” he advised. 
“Speaking of,” Sam smirked as he gestured toward the station door. “Shall we?” 
A sense of relief washed over you and your friends. Following their lead out of the station, you suddenly remember you were still in your nightwear. The warmth from Bucky’s jacket caused you to feel fully dressed and covered the entire time.
Bucky walked beside you, sensing your sudden discomfort he placed a hand on the small of your back. “I’ll take you home first,” he gave you a small smile as you glanced up at him. 
~
As you reached your apartment, Bucky followed you up the stairs, his hand never left the small of your back as he rested gently against it. The familiar scent of your home instantly put you at ease as you stepped inside. 
“I’ll be quick!” you promised, as you turned to glance at him. He closed the door behind you and leaned against it as he watched you make your way to your bedroom. 
“Take your time, Sweetheart,” he said, a playful tone laced his voice as he smiled back at you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
Disappearing into your bedroom, the adrenaline that had carried you through the events at the police station began to wear off. You quickly change out of your nightwear and into one of your dresses, and check your appearance. The comforting weight of Bucky’s jacket still lingered on your shoulders as you replaced it with one of your cardigans. 
Bucky had moved into your living room by the time you emerged from your bedroom, his expression softening when he saw you. “Gorgeous,” he said, a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, as you avoided his gaze, and caught the sight of his jacket draped over your arm. “Oh, and thank you!” You gestured toward the jacket as you handed it back to him. 
Bucky’s face fell slightly as he took the jacket, disappointment crossed his features. “It looked good on you,” he said as he reluctantly slipped it on.
---
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koiir · 1 day
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SWEETEST LOVER
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Blue lock boys who are the BEST lovers ( I’m bias) Relationships with them { not proofread }
ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Chigiri, hiori, reo, isagi, kurona
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CHIGIRI H.
Chigiri is the definition of “best friend and partner” he’s rather open to you (having known for years) and also being the person who’s the best boyfriend you can could ask for.
The advice he gives is one of harsh criticism yet the most truthful, many would be surprised by how blunt he can be with you although it shows in how he cares and truly only wants the best for you. If opening your eyes with a hard truth will help then he will take that route.
Although of course, he isn’t heartless. He comforts you with a warm smile, heart beating at how attentive he becomes with you. Giving you the princess treatment one would die for. He knows comfort can differ in various ways, so he will always try and communicate on what you need.
I feel as though chigiri struggles with communication concerning his wants, so he tries to grow in order to be the best version of himself he can give you. Yet there will be moments where this can “problem” can arise and he will always realize his faults.
Other than that, his knack for his wellbeing swells into you as well. Hair is rather important for the guy, so when he comes to you with a grin about a new hair secret, expect a days worth of hair care. The two of you are seen as rather “gossipers” yet you two just find anything and everything interesting. Really, anything with chigiri can turn into an interesting conversation. Thus making him an amazing boyfriend and best friend in one<33 ( I could go on about him but I’ll save that for later)
HIORI Y.
SO UNDERRATED I LUV HIORI. Ugh he’s the sweetest I mean cmonnn…
With his already calm and polite demeanor, falling in love with him is that of a warm spring that flourishes into a bond greater than words can say.
A quick learner, can easily pick up your moods and will give it his all for you! Very much a giver and will cherish whatever you give him, hiori becomes emotional seeing how much you give to him, already viewing your love the best thing he could every ask for.
From his childhood, he was told he was loved, although feeling it would come and go. Yet when you come into the picture, it’s as if he experiences the feeling of being loved for the first time ever. His past one of hallow that now with you, it beams with hope and joy, making him the more doting on you with showing how much he truly cherishes what you have given to him.
The type of guy who would let you drag him anywhere, as his face is filled with adoration for you, soft smile evident as he lets your body take the lead as he follows you to no end. Out and about, would definitely rub your wrist gently before crossing the street whispering a faint “be careful” that causes your heart to race in seconds.
Can’t forgot how he would definitely, want you to game with him. Even if you don’t he finds a way for you to be near or engage with him. Whether that be you seated next to him or him lying across you, the peace hiori has in being close to you is infinite. A safe space he never wishes to let go of.
Seems squishy (don’t ask)
ISAGI Y.
GREEN FLAG I REPEAT ULTIMATE GREEN FLAG. Might be bias but cmon it’s isagi
The boyfriend who literally will do ANYTHING you wish for (as long as it’s reasonable ofc) Follows you around like a lovesick puppy as he comments on places he thinks you would like or you two should go to. Will love to get stuff where it compliments the other, almost as if something that matches.
He once asked you what you were going to wear and showed up with a similar color combo, mind you he bought you two the same shoes for days where you want to match.
The kind of guy who will hold eye contact whenever you talk, even if you can’t hold it with him because of how intense his gaze is. He will continue looking at you as id you’re all he can stare at. How can someone make you flustered without anything at all?? That’s isagi for you
Isagi is someone you admire, someone you learn from even as you two grow in the relationship. His kind heart giving you the courage to try new things as he supports you all the way, words of encouragement making a hue of light shine in your life.
Overall, a loving caring guy who always has your back and a cutie
BACHIRA M.
Bachira just like anyone has his…quirks. Although nothing severe to the point of destruction or hurting you. If anything he’s the most loyal and treats you with such care, fearing that one day you might perish or realize he’s not so called normal.
His insecurities one that you know from the beginning, tending the wounds he has held from years of the past. His reluctance to thank you with the best he can give you, his affection and loyalty to you one of scarce of losing you. He can’t fathom this, you with him. Together. So it’s only natural he wishes to show you what others cannot see.
There’s never a dull moment with him, his vibrant persona melting into you as you intoxicate in the newfound confidence he gives you. Bachira is the type to move you out of your comfort zone, making a break to see you in a new light that he’s lucky enough to see and be the cause for.
His affection spreads throughout every aspect, in public he resembles a dog that clings onto its owner that holds eyes filled with adoration.
His warm hands allowing for yours to bask in his warmth, feeling more as he squeezes yours and grins from ear to ear viewing your flushed expression. “There’s that face I adore oh so much!”
Eyes wander to your figure as bachira sees the shiver in your figure, cold winds swirling around causing you to feel the cold sensation of the winds. His embrace eternal, fitting like a puzzle as he snuggles up behind you swaying your bodies side to side. The norm would be teasing words, yet for now he embraces the delight with you in his arms.
Ah bachira
KURONA R.
Cutest boy I mean cmon he has shark teeth
No matter the time being, kurona can’t fathom that you’re truly his, his mornings being filled with a lovesick smile at the thought of you.
His teeth hold many stories, the most memorable being how insecure he is because of them, smile showing less due to this fact. But the day you tell him to smile, hands on his cheeks as you gaze into his eyes, the crack in his lips breaking as he smiles at you softly.
It’s only natural for kurona to want to be the reasons for your smiles, indulging in what will make your smile come to fruition so he can also gift you with his smile.
His adoration for sharks weaves into you, no matter what he makes a correlation between you. Expect matching trinkets of any shark related item. Plushies that greet you in a pair that hold eachother, his lips spilling the words of “look, it’s us”
What may come to a surprise is his ability to make you swoon with his words, maybe not directly, but on paper. The reassurance kurona needs is spilled onto messages late at night, showing his vulnerability on text because he cannot bear with how you might respond. He knows you would comfort him, although he knows his heart will experience speed to limits unknown.
So when morning dew comes and you wake up with his messages, your heart grows fond seeing just how much the boy wants you to know, his heart is all yours and he wishes to hold it for the eternity to come.
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a/n; MONTHSS of not posting anything…prob cause I’m almost out of school and have inspo
edit; guys I’m sorry reo wasn’t added my ass was just tired after writing for bachira😞
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grapehyasynth · 9 hours
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nature boy
wille has always been told not to expect to marry his soulmate. others dream of the day they’ll get their soulmate mark – it appears the day after the first meeting and is there every day after, but changing each day to reflect something meaningful from your soulmate’s previous day – but wille’s mother insists he has duties to fulfill, that he can create his own fate and find a partner whether or not she's a soulmate. (and yes, they only ever discuss in terms of she.) 
he's on his way to another one of the dates his mother keeps setting up for him, and it's about thirty minutes before he needs to be at the restaurant, but instead he's at a greenhouse. he approaches the front desk, where a young man in a button-down shirt open over a looney tunes t-shirt with a name tag that reads Simon is nodding off over a textbook.
"i was hoping to buy some flowers for a first date," wille explains, when simon has looked up.
"we don't actually do bouquets," simon says.
"i know, i - i thought i would get something they could plant, afterwards," he clarifies, and he hears himself use they and tries not to make anything of it. he’s trying not to second-guess himself, knows his mother would tell him to go with a traditional bouquet, can picture erik all dashing with a few roses.
simon sets his pen down, looking at wille with a new expression, like he's reconfiguring his impression of him. "that's really thoughtful. i can help you with that."
wille follows him into the greenhouse, winding past tables of ceramic pots and meter-tall fronds, ducking under some vines that boast a sign about an upcoming workshop. simon hovers over a few plants before moving on. every now and then he glances at wille, seeming to size him up and factor this into his considerations. (wille wishes he knew what simon was seeing.) finally he scoops up a medium-sized pot with pale purple flowers, holding it out to wille with both hands.
"spreading bellflower. it's similar to the small bluebell, which is--"
"our national floral emblem,"  wille finishes for him, because of course that's the kind of nonsense his mother has made him learn, though it feels a lot less vapid in this moment.
simon looks impressed. "exactly. everybody wants the small bluebell. we don't sell a lot of the bellflower."
"it's perfect," wille tells him, and as he lifts the flowers to his nose, he sees simon's eyes crinkle with a smile.
his date is lovely, much more unpretentious than he's used to, nervous but striving to be genuine. she's definitely a bit thrown by the flowers, and she sounds apologetic when she explains she doesn't have any outdoor space, not even a balcony or patio, and her windowsills are too slim to host the plant. wille feels a bit wounded, wants to insist that she could just find a small table and set it near the window, but she's already suggested that he take it home with him and care for it "for me, until i can visit," she says, and he doesn't mind the idea, actually - has grown a little attached to the flowers.
he goes to sleep thinking of brown eyes and purple blossoms. he wakes up with them on his chest. the blossoms, that is, not the eyes. the spreading bellflowers bloom across his chest like elaborate watercolor tattoos, and he feels his heart leap behind the flowers as he traces them reverently. so he met his soulmate yesterday, and the bellflowers were meaningful to their day. but is it the boy from the greenhouse, or his date?
he knows who he wants it to be, but maybe fate, like his mother, has its own ideas about his path.
he doesn't want to contact simon or his date until he knows a bit more, so he has to wait a full day. he drags himself through his classes at uni, biting his nails down, the bellflowers burning under his clothes. (he'd been tempted to wear a v-neck shirt, show them off, but he also wants to cradle it to himself for a little while.) he stays up late, skin itching as the clock ticks towards midnight, at which point the bellflowers fade. instead, vines twine up both of his arms, curling like bracelets, embracing his wrists and forearms and the cut of his muscle. he knows those vines - couldn't name them, but he recognizes them from the greenhouse. there'd been a sign next to them, for an upcoming workshop, which he's guessing simon led yesterday.
he has an answer. and if the interest is mutual - which it isn't always, with soulmate marks, but he suspects it might be, if the bellflowers were a meaningful part of simon's day - then he is eager to bloom under this plant boy's touch.
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