#Like all he does is wonder where he came from and who he left behind and he looks haunted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taesancore · 13 hours

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—HEY ANGEL

kim donghyun x f!reader

📜 .ᐟ part one of the bnd as one direction songs series!

📜 .ᐟ synopsis: in which you were oh so curious about your sunbae, kim donghyun

wc: 2k, lowercase intended

“seriously, just go talk to him if you find him cute!” hanni replied as you continued to stare at him. kim donghyun. your senior and the main RJ for your school’s daily radio show. it wasn’t just the fact that you found him cute—scratch that, angelic. it was the fact that he was quite literally a walking talking enigma of some sort.

his mind was a one of a kind, you had thought when you first heard his deep voice talk about through the poem you wrote. you had sat up with a start in the middle of the break period as he continued to read out the poem you had submitted out of boredom (mayhaps to also spread your winter blues to everyone else for fun).

“wow, this person must really hate winters, they’ve described the sadness in how all the plants tend to die due to the cold” he had mused. back then you didn’t have an inkling of who he was. but his words, they weren’t even anything wise or profound. his simple take on your depressing poem had you wondering, just how was he so positive?

“i don’t know…on the bright side of it, i think winters can symbolise a time of rebirth and rest don’t you think? the flowers grow back looking much healthier and prettier after winters, in the spring. everything has a bright side to it right? even the most harshest of winters have beauty in them”

you had crept up to the broadcasting room as he was just beginning to conclude the show for that day. your curiosity had gotten the best of you, dying to know who had read your poem and turned it into a warm ray of hope amid the cruel winter. hearing the shuffling behind the door, you quickly hid behind the wall near the broadcasting room as the door opened and—

oh. oh wow. he was beautiful. was it his large doe eyes? or the slender shape of his nose? or the way his rosy pink lips had a natural quirk to them even when he wasn’t smiling? you weren’t sure what about him was beautiful. but at the same time everything about him was simply angelic, to put it straight. you were lucky he didn’t catch you gawking at him while he was bowing politely to the people who greeted him, as he walked away.

you learnt that he was kim donghyun, the one who was in charge of the break programme along with your senior han dongmin. the two of them hosted it under their RJ names leehan and taesan. their show consisted of them played rock or metal songs that dongmin often enjoyed dissecting musically while donghyun read out different letters, thoughts or writings that students sent.

“it’s not that hanni” you sighed, finally taking your eyes off him as you faced your friend. “…..i want to talk to him” you finished poorly.

“then do it!!” she said exasperatedly.

“how do i explain it to you?! i wanna know him as a person you know? he always somehow makes my poems seem like a ray of sunshine in someone’s cloudy life, and he sees things so positively all the time? i wanna be him and see life though his eyes once”

hanni was left gaping at you after you finished your speech.

“wow you’re in love”

“oh shut up i’m not”

the next day you had prepared another poem for the week, yet another pessimistic one. at this point you weren’t sure why you were writing these sad poems (maybe it was to just hear donghyun read them and state his opinion) but you loved the thrill of being an anonymous listener of gongfourz programme.

tiptoeing near the box where the letters were submitted near the broadcasting office, you barely had time to turn around and walk away after dropping your poem in the box, before you bumped into a sturdy chest.

“careful there” came a familiar voice from above you as you steadied yourself. you held back an embarrassing gasp as kim donghyun’s curious eyes met yours.

fuck, they were probably home to a thousand galaxies weren’t they? you didn’t realise you were staring until he chuckled softly, snapping you out of your reverie.

“i’ll get going then” he smiled, brushing past you into the broadcasting room, leaving you standing there still staring in his direction.

“what if he saw me put my poem in his box?? hanni i’m doomed!” you were currently wailing at your best friend who was calmly sipping her coffee. it was a free period for you as your teacher wasn’t present, giving you enough time to mentally prepare yourself for leehan and taesan’s broadcast. and it also gave you time to cry about your first encounter with him…which wasn’t exactly the best.

“relax y/n, so what if he does?” she questioned.

yeah…so what if he does? you wondered for a minute.

“i don’t know…it’s not like i like him anyways, you’re right” you said to yourself as hanni snorted.

“you don’t like him? sure honey” she snickered as you scowled.

“don’t even try lying to yourself here, you get so excited before his broadcast starts, look at him every time he enters the lunch hall hell you even eat your food at a snail’s pace to leave the hall at the same time as him” she finished befit you could defend yourself, smirking at your dumbfounded reaction to her speech.

“how do i prove it to you?” you mustered weakly.

really though, you didn’t like him…you just liked his brain. god it even sounded stupid in your head but that was the truth! his way with words really did render you speechless at times and dare you say made it flutter too— no. no it didn’t.

“talk to him then” came hanni’s reply. well.

“that you know i can’t!” you whined. “oh the radio’s starting! quick!” you ushered hanni into your regular seats in the classroom as the last remnants of one of taesan’s favourite song faded, the guitar riff still ringing in your ears.

“now let’s see, the first letter! kim donghyun sunbae you’re a greek god— why thank you” he exclaimed politely as taesan burst out laughing.

“you sure you didn’t send that?” hanni elbowed you slyly as you shot her an annoyed look.

“haha very funny.”

“next up, oh my little poetess sent another poem!” my poetess. you loved the little nickname he gave you, it never failed to bring a warm feeling inside you.

“hmm, looks like you’ve had quite the experience with some people on earth, considering how you’ve written that hell is up here itself” his mellow voice floated through the speaker in the classroom as you attentively listened.

“however, maybe hell isn’t the only thing that’s up here? i have a feeling that there are angels in disguise on the earth you know”

“are you referring to yourself?” taesan joked as leehan’s chuckles came from the speaker.

“maybe, but i’m referring to my poetess as well, i’m not gonna lie i’m very curious about you” he replied as hanni let out an excited gasp.

“oh my god?! he wants you so bad” she giggled at you who was still jaw-dropped at his words.

“oh don’t be silly, he doesn’t even know me!”

“are you really flirting with one of our anonymous writers han?” taesan’s amused question made leehan chuckle again.

“if you see it that way then sure. i however do think my poetess is one of the angels in disguise you know…sometimes i wish i could see the world from her view as she makes even the most heartbreaking things seem ethereally beautiful”.

the entire classroom was silent, taking in the senior’s words. you were sure some of your classmates who were his fangirl were glaring daggers at the speaker, probably cussing out ‘his poetess’ in their minds. you? oh you were a blushing mess, you were sure you had no feelings for your senior but now? you suddenly weren’t so sure anymore.

“hanni” you said in a small voice.

“i think i’m gonna talk to donghyun sunbae”.

the next day you had prepared another poem, one that you had penned during the early hours of the morning due to the lack of sleep. you couldn’t help it, you had to do something about the weird feelings you were starting to feel for him, he was a senior for gods sake!! your poem was quite simple this time, talking about how the heart tends to make stupid decisions by catching feelings, ignoring the advice of the head (totally not inspired by your current mood).

upon reaching the broadcasting room before class started, you patted your coat pocket to reach out for the envelope….which you didn’t find.

oh no. oh no no this can’t be.

you frantically pulled out all your pockets, searching the floor beneath you if you accidentally dropped it anywhere until-

“looking for this?” came a low voice from behind you as you whipped your head around.

your worst nightmare had come true for there was kim donghyun, with your envelope in his hand. he smiled at you, a smile that told you that he knew everything already.

“sunbae! good morning!” you bowed down hastily, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze of your own.

be confident. stay calm. stay cool.

“it’s nice to finally meet you my little poetess” he greeted you, walking closer as he handed the envelope to you.

“w-what are you talking about?” you shuffled away from him, stuffing the envelope back in your jacket while still maintaining the eye contact.

“no need to pretend now, i saw you earlier you know?” he said amusedly.

“…fine it’s me” you gave in, looking everywhere but at him now. his smile widened slightly as he tilted his head.

“aren’t you my junior? the one who stares at me during lunch?”

you felt your face burn at his words as you glared at him, yet you couldn’t find a suitable reply because…you did stare at him.

he laughed a soft laugh, and you may have melted inside because hearing it in real life and not through the rusty old speaker in your class felt so heavenly.

“it’s not like that..” you finally managed as he quirked an eyebrow.

his feet moved forward, while yours moved back.

“…i’m curious about you too, sunbae” you finished as you found your back thud against the door of the broadcasting room.

his eyes glimmered with an amused glint, drawing you deeper into their endlessness as you struggled to acknowledge the barely there distance between you two.

“and what do you find curious about me?” he mused, lips tilting upwards into his signature little smirk. or smile. hell you weren’t sure at this point because all you could think about was his warm scent floating around you.

“your…brain” you mumbled, not breaking eye contact this time.

his brain. really. god you sounded like a loser there, so much for confidence.

he laughed, a beautiful sound that bounced off the walls. you stared, ears blushing red as he threw his head back. that smile oh wow.

“you’re quite the funny one” he giggled once he calmed down, still smiling widely.

“no im being for real! you always turn my gloomy poems into something happy! just how do you manage to do that?? and the nickname, my poetess? it keeps replaying in my head everywhere, god you’re everywhere at this point it’s making me crazy!” you burst out, breathing heavily as you felt a weight lift itself off from your chest.

shit. what had you done. your eyes widened as you watched donghyun’s expression go from amused to flabbergasted to something undecipherable…almost soft?

“okay my poetess, how about this? you can satisfy your curiosity by getting to know my brain better hmm?” he said, smiling at you as you furrowed your brows.

“what do you mean—how?”

“meet me after today’s broadcast? it’s a date y/n” he grinned, eyes disappearing into little half moons as he finally stepped away from you.

you were left staring at him for the second time this week as he sauntered away into the broadcasting room, the door shutting behind him with a soft sound, not louder than the booming of your heart though.

hmm. you decided that you liked— no scratch that, really liked the sound of your name when he said it.

a/n: man i’m too sleepy rn to check for any errors and this is mid asF but let’s be fr, don’t we all love leehan’s brain :3

#⌗ my works❕#boynextdoor x reader #leehan x reader #bnd x reader #leehan boynextdoor #kim donghyun #donghyun x reader #bnd leehan #leehan fluff #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor scenarios #bonedo x reader #bnd scenarios #leehan bnd #boynextdoor headcanons #boynextdoor imagines #leehan imagines #Spotify

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neon-moon-beam · 2 years

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@1863-project and I ordered the new Joltik bags the Japanese Pokemon Center dropped recently. Apparently they’re already sold out now!

I think it’s safe to say they know what a lot of fans are stuck on right now, to just suddenly include Joltik when the rest are more recent Pokemon and popular ones. I just hope they resolve what they did with Ingo nicely. I can’t imagine a series whose primary target age group are kids would go an angsty route, especially with a character that isn’t a villain or wasn’t already introduced tragically.

#this is a submas apartment #i think a lot of people making really angsty stuff tend to forget that at the end of the day this is a series aimed at kids #there's been a few things here and there but they typically happen to villains or characters who are introduced in that state...#and most characters in sad situations get some form of closure too...Cubone's mom moved on as did the girl in the Strange House in B2W2 #and for all you people who are going to cite Anabel...she's not introduced tragically and she's enjoying her life post-Faller amnesia #Ingo is not enjoying his time in Hisui at all #Like all he does is wonder where he came from and who he left behind and he looks haunted #He's atypical to what we've seen so far and they need to let him go home

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suiana · 13 days

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(yandere! ghost husband x gn! reader)

In many asian cultures,

it is taught to people to not touch any offerings or money that is left on the ground.

For if you do so,

you shall be married to a dead person.

however, you chose not to heed these warnings and picked up a heavy wad of cash that was left on the sidewalk of a forest.

you picked it up, happily thinking it was just some rich guy who dropped his money while on a nature walk, that you got lucky enough to stumble upon his secret stash.

so you brought it home with you, thinking of all the wonderful things you'd buy with this newfound money you got.

unfortunately, that was just the start of many unexplainable things that begun to happen to you.

"dude can you not close my door?! I'm trying to go on a date!"

you yell at the air, staring at your door which suddenly slammed shut. it had been a few weeks since these events had started occuring. and events as in, random paranormal events. yes, paranormal.

it all started when you found that thick wad of cash on the sidewalk of some asian country and brought it back home with you. you thought you were lucky to have stumbled upon such treasure. like, holy shit that's a few hundred thousand of dollars!

yet the second you stepped foot inside your house, chills ran down your spine and you couldn't help but feel absolutely scared to enter your home.

but you simply shrugged it off, thinking you were just overthinking and worrying over nothing. must be the scary asian ghost stories you heard.

you should've went to the exorcist the second you felt that gut instinct though.

because as the days went by, your lights started turning in and off by itself, your house would be cleaned meticulously even when it looked like a fucking dumpsite a few hours before, and more importantly, you'd start hearing voices of a man who claimed to be 'your husband'.

at first you wondered if you were schizophrenic. holy shit, were you hallucinating right now? why the hell was there this attractive voice that kept on talking to you from time to time?

but it wasn't you being schizophrenic, unfortunately.

for what you were experiencing was very much real. there was now a ghost in your house, or rather around you, that would not leave no matter how hard you tried.

and you came to live with it, until today.

why? because you were about to go on a date with this super sexy guy but then this... this ghost husband wouldn't let you!

freaking slammed the door when you tried leaving! like who even does that?!

"ugh, you're being unreasonable!"

you yell at the air, glaring angrily as you place your hands on your hips. you didn't know where this ghost husband of yours was, but you did know he was near you. i mean, the temperature drop was a clear sign that he was.

"me? unreasonable?"

ah, there he was.

you turn around to face the aur, glaring angrily as you feel your skin prickling. his voice came from behind you and he was whispering into your ear. he always likes to do that, you noticed. speaking from behind.

"yeah, you! dude i just want to get laid!"

you reply in irritation, hands on your hips as you shake your head. you wait for his reply, pursuing your lips angrily before shrieking as you feel him blow cold air against your nape.

"but you have me, don't you?"

"well I don't want you! I didn't know you'd come together with the money! and I can't even use the money..."

you mumble off, shivering slightly as you continue to glare at the air. god damn it, so much talk about being your husband and you don't even know how he looks like! heck, you can't even see him!

"I don't even know how you look like! how could you prevent me from going on a date with this sexy guy-"

in the middle of your complaint, you suddenly yelp as an attractive male, albeit a translucent one, stares right at you, an unamused face as he looks you down.

"well you can see me now."

he mumbles, arms folded across his chest as he glares back at you.

your mouth is dry, cheeks slightly pink as you stare at the man. holy moly! you have a hot husband?!

"holy cow! you're hot?"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

you stare at the male, jaw dropping before you slap your face and look him up and down. he was clad in a traditional outfit, looking expensive and absolutely drop dead gorgeous- well he's dead but... gorgeous!

"damn okay, I won't go on that date..."

you drool slightly, moving away from your door as you continue staring at your ghost husband dumbly, giggling as you walk past him onto the couch.

"of course you won't. you're already married to me."

your husband follows after you, a cold aura following him wherever he went, chilling the area. thankfully the heat in your body helped to warm you up.

"why didn't you show me your face earlier? you're so sexy..."

"well you never asked."

he shrugs before floating over to you and resting his head in your lap. his eyes look into yours, a lovesick expression in his eyes as he traces his translucent hand into your skin, making the area tingle slightly.

you stare down at him, pursing your lips before giggling stupidly and blushing. damn, you really did have a hot husband. even though he's dead, he's still your husband! you only wish he was alive... then maybe you two could get dirty and-

"you know i can still pleasure you right?"

the ghost suddenly deadpans, looking right at you as though he had read your thoughts. you blink at him, not registering his words before you suddenly choke on air and look away.

"oh, are you choking? don't die yet... i like your body heat."

your husband suddenly moves away from your lap, getting up to pat your back in a pitiful attempt to relieve you from your choking fit. all you felt while you coughed was the tingling sensation of cold hands.

"damn you can't just say stuff like that-"

"but you were thinking about it, no? i can hear your thoughts, you know."

you proceed to choke on air again, having yet another coughing fit as your ghost husband continues to pat your back with his cold ghostly hands.

"oh my god just kill me now... this is so embarrassing-"

"no, i already said i like your body heat and you can't die yet."

you immediately shut up, staring at the ghostly male with dead eyes.

before you know it, you're walking to your kitchen to grab a knife to kill youself just to spite him. but of course, you were stopped by your husband who immediately wrestles the knife away from you, smacking your head painfully hard before dragging you back to the couch where he begins to suck your warmth away like a leech.

damn him, maybe you should get an exorcist.

"you know i can hear your thoughts right? you're not getting rid of me."

damn him, you really are going to get an exorcist.

"what? darling i just said no!"

you're getting an exorcist.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere ghost husband #yandere ghost husband x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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lucysarah-c · 5 months

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"Alright, spill the beans," Erwin said as he sat down on the couch, opening a beer can and crossing his legs. He could hardly contain his smile. Mike and Hange stared intensely at the shorter man. Levi had told them he had something to "share," and he hardly ever shared anything. Therefore, all attention and the floor were his.

The group of friends grew more and more curious as Levi seemed unsure, almost shy. His finger tapped his beer can uneasily as he pressed his lips together. "Fine, but don't fucking laugh."

"I can't promise you that," Hange quickly confirmed, making the other two chuckle but also agree. Levi just sighed resigned.

"Y/N… Y/N found a thong that wasn't hers among her clothes."

Erwin, who was sipping his drink, spat it out in shock at how quickly the situation escalated.

"WHAT?!" Hange tilted forward as they heard what happened while the rest looked in shock, mouths open. "You CHEATED on your 9-year-long girlfriend?!"

"No!" Levi almost shouted back. "That's what I'm trying to explain!"

It was Monday night. We had dinner after coming home, the usual routine. I was doing the dishes after she got out of the shower, and I heard her steps going down the stairs very heavily. That was the first thing that caught my attention, and before I knew it was her, still freshly showered, looking at me and pulling out a red thong, stretching it between her hands. "Whose are these?" My mind went automatically blank. I saw her resting her hand on her hip and frowning back at me. "I-uh." "Because they are not mine," she insisted, her anger palpable. I swear I was trying to speak, but I could only mumble broken shit as she stared back at me as if she was searching for my soul. "Levi Ackerman, WHOSE ARE THESE?" "I- I don't know, I don't fucking know. I swear," I quickly replied as I blinked, trying to find a solution. My mind started to question everything. 'I'm Levi Ackerman… I'm conscious of my actions… I haven't cheated on my girlfriend,' yet I was sweating as if I had. I had no idea whose those were. It was obvious that they weren't hers, apparently, but I've not slept with another woman in years, so I didn't even know where they could have come from. I doubted my entire existence, I began to wonder if I had been drugged and perhaps did something that I didn't recall. The tears, when she began sobbing softly. I felt like the worst human being. "How could you? After all these years…" "No, no, I fucking swear," I said, growing anxious. I don't even own social media accounts; I don't have a password on my phone. I hate cheaters; I would never do something like that to her, to anyone. For a split second, I thought it would have been easier to lie and explain that it was mine somehow. In that moment, my phone started to ring with one of the numbers I have on priorities as she began to walk up stairs. I rushed to pick it up. "Call you later." "Bro, everything okay?" Isabel's voice came from the speakers as she had called me on FaceTime, as she usually does. Apparently, I forgot to hang up as I was walking behind Y/N. "Y/N, I swear on my mother that I don't know whose are those." I was trying to explain myself when Isabel's voice came from the phone again. "There they are! I was wondering where I left them!"

"Apparently, it was from one time they all came over to my house for the pool. I must have put it in the laundry and thought they were Y/N's," Levi finished the tale as the rest looked at him surprised and entertained.

"Didn't you think they could be Isabel's?" Erwin questioned back between chuckles.

"No! How was I supposed to know a red thong was Isabel's!" Levi commented as his cheeks got slightly red.

"Levi… Isabel is 23 already…" Mike said slowly as he tried to make his friend process the idea.

"Tch," Levi took a good sip from his beer as he processed the idea. "You've no idea how fucking scared I was, and when Isabel said they were hers… fucking shit, I never breathed more peacefully in my entire life."

"That happens to you because you do laundry. Since I never do laundry, I don't have those issues," Hange said entertained, but Levi looked back at the brunette dead in the eyes.

Tag list!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @jimoonbeau @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomio4 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 Wanna join my tag list? here!

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 6 months

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Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!”

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place.

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding.

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.”

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.”

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between.

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?”

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it.

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it.

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it.

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length.

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

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imaginesmai · 4 months

Text

Missed target - Azriel

Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.

Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

The Suriel 1

The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.

Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.

“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”

The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.

Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.

As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.

Missed date

Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.

Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.

Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.

Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.

But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.

“Are you ready to order?”

He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.

“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”

“Water is fine”

They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.

Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.

It was a nice plant.

“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”

“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.

“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “

Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.

The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.

Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.

Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.

Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.

Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.

His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.

Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.

You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.

“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”

“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.

“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”

Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.

But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.

“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”

“I’m Azriel”

“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”

“No”

He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.

You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.

When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.

As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.

The market

Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.

There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.

She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.

It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.

But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.

It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.

The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.

When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.

Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.

“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”

“Are you planning to eat it with me?”

Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.

He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.

Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.

“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”

The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.

But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.

He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.

The flowers

Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.

He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.

He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.

The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.

It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.

She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.

Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.

In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

Try to smile without looking creepy.

Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.

He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.

In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?

Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.

Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.

All because of the stupid melody.

His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.

He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.

“Hello?”

Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.

You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.

He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.

Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.

He had signed it.

Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel

His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.

The dance

“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.

“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”

Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.

His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.

“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”

“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.

“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”

“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”

“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”

Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.

Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.

He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.

Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.

Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.

Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.

“Is it because Elain?”

The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.

“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”

“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”

“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.

Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.

He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.

For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.

He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.

When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.

Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.

“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.

“Who’s not coming?”

“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”

Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.

Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.

Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.

“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”

“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.

“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”

Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.

Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.

He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.

Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.

Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.

“Damnit!”

“Careful – “

Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.

Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.

His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.

Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.

“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”

“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”

“That’s good”

Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.

Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.

“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.

“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”

“It feels right”

Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.

Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.

His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.

The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.

The Suriel 2

In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.

But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.

The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.

As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.

The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.

He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend

Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)

@kayjayjwrites , @phoenix666stuff , @lupinswolfsbanes , @bionic-donut , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @favsrachz , @dwlyniii , @mischiefmanagers , @sassybluebird , @saltedcoffeescotch , @andrewgarfield2022 , @leeknows-wife , @marscardigan , @celear , @sstrohma , @pricklepearbloom , @blackgirlmagicforever , @emiliasdump , @erencvlt , @that-one-little-soybean , @meshellexplosionmurder , @atrxidxs , @feyretopia , @sidthedollface2 , @littlelunatica , @historygeekqueen, @ash-mcj , @haileycannotcometothephonern , @thesunloveschips , @meritxellao , @impossibelle , @kalulakunundrum , @nebarious , @cullenswife , @emryb , @sandramalikstyles-blog

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thestarsarebrightertonight · 1 month

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it could happen to you // lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

playlist : it could happen to you - laufey

summary : youve had a crush on lorenzo berkshire for years , always pining until one day he asks you to the yule ball.

ravenclaw reader , y/n used

masterlist

"cho its getting dangerously close to the ball and i still dont have a date!" you whined.

"its two weeks until the ball , you have more than enough time! i know atleast 5 guys that would drop dead to go with you," cho replied with sympathy.

"oh yeah like who? funny they havent asked me yet if theyre so desperate!" you complained with sadness.

"lorenzo berkshire," cho said blanky , staring at something behind you.

you scoffed loudly , "in my dreams maybe!".

"no...no , lorenzo berkshire is coming towards us with flowers."

you jumped up at this , staring at her with pure shock not wanting to turn around ,"cho! cho please dont joke around about that!"

"im- im not!" she exclaimed finally turning back to you , "he is literally coming over to us-"

"y/n," you heard a deep but soft voice say right behind you making you freeze all movement.

you turned around slowly , seeing lorenzo stood there with some red tulips in his clenched fist , his other hand playing with his robe nervously , "l-...hi lorenzo"

"its enzo!" he said quickly before physically cringing at his own words , "i mean call me anything you want!".

"ah o-okay sorry," you said with a bright red blush.

he stared at you silently for a second before realising the tulips in his hands were not yet in yours , "oh these are for...you!"

your whole face lit up as you grabbed the tulips from him, hands brushing delicatley , making his fist clench by his side.

"thank you so much enzo, theyre beautiful!" you admired the flowers you held , forgetting your past nerves of the boy you like being in front of you.

he smiled at this , blushing obviously , "i was wondering if um.."

you nodded your head, waiting for him to continue.

"if you-" he began again only to be cut off.

"pretty flowers y/n , oh hey berkshire!" fred weasley , your other best friend , said happily from where he now sat next to you on the bench.

"hi..." lorenzos hopes quickly deflated as fred wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"fred i was talking to enzo," you said softly , trying not to be rude.

"yeah sorry about that , also enzo? never heard you let anyone call you that before berkshire! anyways , i was just wondering, do you have a date to the ball yet? i dont and-"

"she does!" lorenzo quickly cut him off as you looked at him in suprise.

fred mirrored your expression , before laughing and smirking at lorenzo, "and who might that be?"

"me." lorenzo scoffed , his anger rising more and more by the second.

meanwhile you exchanged a shocked look with cho and gaped up at enzo , who was only staring down at fred.

"good for you man , nevermind then!" fred said with a smile before he got up, waving to you as he walked away, "see ya y/n!".

once fred left both you and lorenzo shifted into an uncomfortable silence before he brushed his hand through his hair in frustration , "merlin im so sorry i shouldnt have done that i just didnt want him to ask you-"

"lorenzo , i dont care." you said as he visibly calmed , "as long as we are actually going together i dont care at all."

he grinned back at you , "yeah thats what i intended to ask you before...he came over."

you laughed at his frustration towards fred , "i wouldve rather not gone at all than have to go with anyone that isnt you."

he bit back his smile and looked down at his hands before shifting back into eye contact , "do you want to go to hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

"id love to," you grinned at him before standing up and giving him a kiss on the cheek , "just know you cant get rid of me now!"

he mirrored your wide smile with a blush on his cheeks and an arm around your waist , "why would i ever want to get rid of you?"

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arien-rey · 8 months

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Personal Trainer!Miguel x Reader

cw: praise kink, slight breeding, semi public, lmk if theres any i missed!

summary: its another night at the gym with your personal trainer before things take an unexpected turn <3

an: inspired by one of nymph’s posts she made a while ago😭 it never left meeee. btw if theres any grammatical errors ignore them its 3 AM and this came out no nowhere

wc: 1.1k

“Yeah, just like that,” Miguel praises breathlessly as his thick hands glide effortlessly across your body, guiding you through another intense workout. His touch sends shivers down your spine, making you question every ounce of self-control you possess.

God, you don’t know how much longer you can take it. Every session with your new personal trainer, Miguel O'hara, has become more and more electrifying, fueling a fire in you that you can't ignore anymore. The chemistry between you two is undeniable, and the gym has suddenly transformed into a secret rendezvous where temptation hangs heavy in the air.

You often catch yourself stealing yearning looks at his sculpted physique, how his appreciable muscles shone with sweat under the synthetic gym lights, and how the veins in his forearms and hands were especially apparent because of his pump. The air is always heavy with desire and unspoken words—forbidden attractions that neither of you admit out loud. It became a dangerous game you played, toeing the line between professionalism and unspoken desires; It didn't help that you were always at the gym late at night when no one else was around either.

As the beads of sweat trail down your forehead, you can’t help but wonder if Miguel feels the same way. The intensity in his eyes and the subtle brushes of his hand against yours all fuel your fantasies. Yet you dare not make a move, worried about the consequences that may come crashing down.

That brings you to tonight, with Miguel’s rough hands wrapped around your waist as he adjusts your form for barbell squats. You take a deep breath as you settle into position, trying your best to ignore the shiver that goes up your spine.

“Perfect. Ready?” He asks, his forearms resting underneath your armpits and his body positioned right behind you to spot you. His warm breath fanned the back of your neck, making you realize how close he is to you.

fuck…

"Yeah," you murmur, shaking yourself out of your thoughts.

“Atta girl.”

As you descend into your squat, you feel all your muscles engage and the weight of the barbells press against your shoulders. Miguel’s presence behind you is both comforting and very, very distracting, his strong hands serving as a reminder of his proximity.

With each repetition, you try to focus on maintaining the proper form, which becomes a struggle after your fifth squat with your thighs on fire and your mind lost in thought.

Finally, you try to push up from your sixth squat before you’re paralyzed, your legs unable to push up the weight. You groan quietly, and Miguel huffs.

“C’mon, you can do this. One more.” Miguel encourages, but when you begin to sink he’s quick to grab the metal bar and pull it off you effortlessly; putting it back in place. While he does this, you topple backwards slightly, and your body brushes against his.

You gasp quietly and your face flushes a deep red as your ass brushes against his crotch, where you feel a prominent bulge in his gym shorts.

Was it from you? the strain from his exercise earlier? You had no idea, but what you did know is that this was your last straw. Chills run up your spine, and the adrenaline rush from the workout gives you a burst of boldness. You’re so tired of trying to contain yourself from Miguel and finally decide to abandon your professionalism; besides, if things go wrong you can always just cancel your sessions and work out at a different gym. You step back and look up at Miguel’s towering figure, who was slightly taken aback by your sudden assertiveness. You see the surprise in his eyes as you place a hand on his strong chest.

“I think I’ve had enough for today,” you say, panting slightly.

Miguel cocks a brow, a mix of confusion and curiosity dancing across his face. “You sure? We’re just getting started.”

A small smile plays at the corner of your lips. “Yeah.. But maybe we can continue something different?”

Miguel lets out a huff of amusement, his gaze intensifying and igniting a spark of anticipation between you two. He places a hand on his hip.

“Like what?”

You take a step closer to him with a sultry look in your eyes, your heart pounding.

“Do you always have this effect on your clients, Miguel?”

He smirks mischievously, catching onto your little act. “Only on the ones who tempt me beyond control.” He whispers back, and the admission hangs heavily between you.

With the gym empty, you don’t hesitate to get on your tippy toes and lean in to press your lips against his.

Miguel is quick to reciprocate, his hands flying to your waist as the kiss deepens. You gasp as you’re effortlessly lifted into the air and slung over his shoulder, unable to contain the giddy smile that crosses your face as he walks towards the locker rooms for more privacy.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

“Mierda,”

Miguel groans, his thick cock ramming up into your pussy. His hands gripped the flesh of your thighs tight while your back was pressed up against the chilly metal of the lockers. The sound of skin against skin and heavy breathing was the only thing echoing against the small walls.

your tight shorts and sports bra were discarded carelessly on the floor; along side Miguel’s black compression shirt and gym shorts.

“You’re so, so, so good, Miguel—shit—don’t stop, please!” You babble, your legs wrapping against his thick waist as he bullies your cunt with heavy thrusts, his cock covered in a thin layer of sheen from your cream that drips down his heavy balls.

“Feel good, baby? huh? You like it when I fuck you hard?”

Miguel pants, groaning when your walls tighten around him like a vice, suffocating his cock in your warmth. He lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

You bite your lip, admiring how his big muscles flexed to keep you in the air and how his thrusts never slowed down. He was just so big and strong, and you couldn’t get enough of him. You don’t know how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment, and getting fucked by your personal trainer feels better than you could’ve ever imagined.

“how long have you waited for this,” Miguel hisses, and you look into his intense gaze, dazed, “waited for me to fuck you?”

“E-Ever since.. ever since our first session..” you whine shyly, and he lets out a breathless laugh. “dirty girl. since day one, huh?”

You mewl and wrap your arms around his thick neck for dear life before he leans down and spits a wad of spit onto your puffy clit. Hastily, he adjusts his grip on your thighs so he can use one hand to play roughly with the bundle of nerves.

You let out a girlish moan and arch into his touch, an overwhelming flood of pleasure running through your veins that makes your legs tremble. You tug roughly on his dark disheveled hair and he hisses in response.

“Mmm, be a good girl and cum on my cock, yeah?”

“Mhmm, ‘m gonna- I- f-fuck!”

Your eyebrows pinch together and your eyes are squeezed shut as you let the pleasure take over, and your white, hot orgasm quickly crashes over you.

Miguel groans loudly, his cock throbbing along with your spasming walls. His pace quickens and his thrusts become increasing shallow before moving the hand on your clit back onto your thigh to make sure you’re fully supported as he reaches ecstasy. He bottoms out in one rough thrust, his pelvis mushing into your sensitive clit and hips stilling as he spills hot white ropes of cum inside you, filling you nicely.

You both spend a few seconds in silence, panting heavily until he begins to soften and languidly pulls his cock out. You both watch as his cum slowly oozes out of your pussy and he sucks his teeth at the sight.

“That was amazing—you were amazing,” you pant, ogling at him with a giddy smile.

He lets out a deep breath and sets you down on a nearby bench gingerly before giving you a sheepish smirk.

“You too. You’ve always been my favorite client to work with, y’know?”

#<3 #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel o hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #astv smut #rey💋#2099<3

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uravitypng · 1 month

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: denki kaminari x reader

word count: 4.8k words

a/n: i'm so glad i finished this and i hope you all like this because i loved writing this. denki's girlfriend is possibly one of the worst people ever...

content warnings: cheating(denki cheats on his girlfriend with reader), praise, unprotected sex, creamie/coming inside, body worship, denki's girlfriend is the absolute worst, multiple orgasms, pining, reader has some self esteem issues and self doubts but denki shows her how perfect she is, oral(f!recieving), denki calls condoms rubber, reader is in denial, petnames, reader is hinted to be chubby, - mdni/18+

you didn't even want to be here... you always got a bad vibe off of them. you're 'friends' with mina but just barely, yet somehow she's dragged you to a party with people who you're definitely not 'friends' with.

at least kaminari is here, he always smiles at you and makes conversation with you even if his girlfriend is a total bitch and probably is the worst out of all of them.

you miss the time before you knew they were dating. somehow after finding that out his girlfriend seemed even worse and more entitled.

you walk into the kitchen in hopes to get another drink but instead you hear that bitch and you had a feeling she was originally talking about you and it was confirmed when she said your name. "i don't know why she's even here. the only reason mina invited her was out of pity." she says spitefully. your eyes well up with tears, maybe you did get invited out of pity, mina is someone who would do that, she knows you don't have many friends.

this whole time you don't realise kaminari is behind you hearing the same thing you are and his face twists in disgust as he hears his girlfriend carry on speaking, "she's just so boring, it's no wonder she's single." your heart fills heavy, it's not your fault that you're single you've just never found someone you clicked with, you blame it on all the fictional characters you like and you often compared them to all your potential relationships. "she's ugly. it's almost a crime that she's at a party with us, that she's in hinami's home. when i started dating kami i met some of his other friends from school when he was younger, that's when i met mineta. the really short one y'know? short, pervy and unattractive, all around terrible guy. he's probably going to be single for the rest of his life, the only way he's not is if he dates her and even then it'll be him who's the more better looking one." they laugh.

why, why, why? what did you ever do to them?

you know you're not the most interesting or the most attractive but you don't deserve this- no one does. you don't want to make a scene but you have to leave, you can't stay here any longer. you wish you could speak up for yourself but you can't and even if you could what good would it do? so you decide to leave before you start hyperventilating, before saying goodbye to mina. turning around to leave when you literally bump into kaminari and there's an expression on his face that you've never seen before and he doesn't even try to hide it.

he looks angry. more than angry, he looks pissed. he's gripping hold of the beer he's drinking so hard that his hands are becoming white around the bottle, his jaw is clenched and his stare is hard but when he feels you bump into him his eyes soften when he looks at you and takes you in. you're biting your lip trying not to sob and tears are filling your waterline. as you see him you can't stop the dam from breaking as the tears heavily stream down your face. as you push past him you hope to never see him again- any of them.

that doesn't happen though. denki has made it a point to wiggle himself into your life, inserting himself there. it happened that very night after you left the party, about half an hour after you arrived home and changed into comfy clothes he came knocking on you door. "kaminari? how... how do you know where i live? wait, what- hold up, what are you even doing here?"

why is he wet, has it been raining? he smiles genuinely at you, even though he's soaked to the bone, freezing from the rain and so very irate with his girlfriend just seeing you cheers him up. he's never seen you in a comfortable setting before, a setting where you're not dressing up from anyone, you look even cuter than normal...

"can i come in?" he asks you and you blink slowly and heavily a few times, processing the question. it relaxes you because the way he says it sounds like a sincere questions. sometimes when people ask a question you know you have to answer a certain way, you know there is a right way.

sometimes when someone asks "can i...?" you have to say yes because saying no isn't really an option, they're not really asking you. but when you heard denki say, "can i come in?" you relax because you know you could just say no and that would be okay, he would be okay with that. if you told him no he 'can't come in' he'd just leave and won't push you to say yes or try to make you feel guilty. sometimes questions like "can i come in?" or a "can we go here?" are almost rhetorical question.

he makes you feel safe.

you nod your head and step aside letting him through. "okay," you reply softly and a little hoarsely, slightly annoyed at yourself for not speaking more louder and assertively.

"how are you feeling?"

the tether that's keeping you from becoming frustrated feels like it starts fraying "how do you think i'm feeling?" beginning to get annoyed at him because why is he even here talking to you, shouldn't he still be at hinema's house with his girlfriend?

"yeah... that's a stupid question, sorry." denki rubs the back of his head with hand and steps a little bit closer to you. "let me make you feel better," he blurts out.

"huh?"

denki steps even closer to you and gently holds onto your hand, clasping it in his. "let me... let me make you feel better. let me apologise on my girlfriends behalf..." your eyes go wide starting to have an idea about what he means but not wanting to verbalise it and jump to conclusions, worrying to get the wrong idea. "let me... show you- show you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are." he squeezes your hand momentarily and says quietly, almost begging, "please."

"what about your girlfriend?" you say girlfriend with disdain.

"what about her? she doesn't matter. let me show you how pretty you are love."

your heartbeat increases at the nickname and your face heats up. "i- i don't know kaminari."

"denki." he says gently but authoritatively.

"what?"

"please, please call me denki." he pleads, squeezing your hand again.

"okay, denki..." you test his name on your tongue and it sounds right, like you should always be saying it.

even now you're still not sure to what compelled you to say, "please show me denki." you never regretted your answer.

it starts slowly, gently, tenderly. denki cups your cheek in his palm and kisses you, placing his other hand on your hip keeping you close to him. the longer you kiss the more hungry it becomes and you're not really sure if it was you or him that deepened the kiss and pressed your bodies up against each other.

"can i love?" he gestures to your top that he's currently fiddling with the hem of, wanting to lift it up so he can touch you properly and get a good look at you.

you hum in affirmation and keep your lips attached to his, not wanting to separate. denki slivers your top up and puts his hand where it used to be, now on your exposed supple flesh, his cold hands stroking your skin delicately. as you feel his hands you shudder remembering now about how drenched he is. "you must be freezing denki." you finally move away from his lips and see his clothes covered in rain with rain drops dripping down his hair landing on his shoulders.

"it's okay. completely worth it." denki grins at you and you suddenly feel shy by the way he's looking at you. you definitely feel pretty by his gaze, it's electrifying and makes you feel bashful all at once.

"do- do you want a towel to dry yourself off with?" denki kisses your jaw and smiles, distracting you.

"don't worry about it love." his breathe against your neck making you shiver. you pout even though he can't see you and you still worry, not wanting him to get a cold. "you keep me warm."

"but-"

denki presses his lips against yours and wraps both his arms around your waist. you moan quietly and he lifts your top up over your head. "is this okay?"

"yes please," you respond, hoping not to sound too needy.

he smirks at your tone and takes off the rest of your clothes. "jesus, you look even more beautiful than i imagined," he says quietly to himself, you're not sure if you were suppose to hear it or if he even meant to say it out loud. denki runs his hands along the curves of your body.

"you imagined me?" you match his volume and he looks startled at your question, obviously surprised that you heard what he said, you come to the conclusion that he thought he was thinking but he actually said out loud

"who wouldn't? you're beautiful." denki kisses your shoulder and holds one of your breasts in his large hands, stroking your nipple as you bite your lip to stop any embarrassing noises spilling out. you're already feeling shy as it is after denki has said such nice things about you.

after realising what you were doing he takes your chin in his hand and tilts you to look at him so you're making eye contact. "look at me. you don't need to do that. not with me. i want to see you. i want to hear all the noises you make, i want you."

denki grazes his teeth along your neck and you gasp. "those are the noises i wanted." you press your lips together trying not to smile, denki grins at how adorable you look.

he moves to take off his shirt and you thought he looked good beforehand in a casual black button up shirt but god does he look even better with it off. you thought he'd be kind of skinny but he's actually lean and a little slim. you can see some defining muscle, his arms are just the same. a couple of moles on his forearms and faint freckles dust his shoulders and upper chest. you wonder if he has light freckles on his face too because you've never once seen them but maybe you haven't looked hard enough.

you know you're probably staring a tiny bit too much at his slender waist and yellow happy trail that matches the colour of his hair and he doesn't mind one bit, happy that you like what you see and fond of your attention.

"like what you see?" he chuckles. you go to hide your face behind your hand after being caught but denki catches your wrist. "what did i tell you? i want to see you sweetheart." you have the urge to bury your face against his chest, hiding away from his gaze but you resist the urge.

everything became a little hazy after that for the next ten minutes, denki has manoeuvred you into your bedroom onto your bed, hovering over you, and keeping you in between his two arms. you pull denki down by wrapping your arms around his neck so you can kiss him again. the kiss begins slow and sweet before denki runs his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access into your mouth and you grant him it. your tongues intertwine and you can still taste that cheap beer he's been drinking that's still lingering even though you've already been kissing previously.

you could kiss denki all night but he has other plans as he starts touching your breasts again and moves his hand down your body to get you ready for his cock, surprised to find that you're already wet. "wet from just a little kissing? that's so cute." he kisses your cheek and whispers against your ear.

"denki," you whine, "don't tease me."

he has to take a deep breath after hearing you whine, not wanting to let you know how bad you affect him because if you keep making noises like that he'll come in his boxers before he gets inside you. "it's okay love." he grinds himself against your thigh, groaning at the contact, letting you feel how hard he is. "i'm just the same." he says deeply and you shiver at the knowledge that denki is just as turned on as you. he's turned on by you.

his dick is almost painful with being contained in his jeans so he rushes to take them off. precome stains his grey boxers turning the area black and he takes them off too, grinning at you. the one way you would describe denki's dick is pretty, just like him so it makes sense. he's a little longer than average, circumcised and pubes trimmed. you want him inside you. now.

"do you have a- you know?" denki asks, gesturing to your bedside cabinet. he regrets not carrying any condoms in his pocket or wallet but his girlfriend only likes having sex in ones of their bedrooms. she's not a fan of spontaneous sex.

"oh, um, maybe? in the bathroom. i wasn't really expecting this and i don't- don't do this a lot... at all really." you admit, while trying to think about where you keep condoms because you must have them somewhere but you keep coming up a blank. the entire time denki's thinking about how you never do this, it makes him feel special, special that you're letting him make you feel good.

you want him... all of him. "i um-i-i'm on the pill." denki's eyes snap up to look at you.

"holy shit are you serious right now?" he asks automatically and enthusiastically, his face lighting up.

you start regretting your suggestion and denki can tell by the look on your face, he thinks he probably spooked you. "we don't need to do anything like that if you don't want to love. i can eat you out for hours. i mean hell, that sounds like at absolute dream." you giggle after hearing that. "sorry i was a bit quick and excited there, i've just never had sex without any rubber on."

you're surprised after hearing that, thinking that he's the type to go without and you tell him just that. "i think that was why i was so excited, i've always wanted too. it's always been a dream of mine and i don't like using them but i've never brought it up with any of the girls i've been with."

"well.. is it okay that i brought it up?" you ask more confident seeing that denki is delighted with the idea.

"fuck yeah. i trust you like crazy. if it was going to be anyone i'd want it to be you." he tells you, grinning. he trusts you. if he had the opportunity with anyone he'd choose you? your heart flutters.

"i don't really like condoms either and i want you, all of you." you tell him shyly and denki's heart misses a beat after your confession.

next thing you know denki is pushing his cock into, inch by inch. even though denki has already prepped you and has been touching you there is still a slight stretch. both you and denki groan simultaneously. your velvet, warm, wet walls welcome him without any barrier.

what comes out of denki next is a mixture of moans, groans, swearing and praising with each thrust. "fucking hell, holy shit sweetheart. you're fucking beautiful, most beautiful girl in the world, so pretty." with each praise and compliment every slight doubt that lingers in the back of your mind disappears, your sole focus being on the man above you. "you feel so good, lovely." he holds your hands in his, enlacing your fingers, that seems far too intimate for a supposedly one night stand to make you feel better.

he catches on to how to please you best with every gasp, noise and shake, and only after a couple minutes he seems to know your body better than you do. with every thrust he's rubbing against your g-spot, drawing circles over your clit and taking your nipple in his mouth.

you came harder than you ever came that night, multiple times with your ears going fuzzy and eyes going blurry. denki doesn't let you know but he's in the same boat, his come spilling into you, the warmth making you shudder and arch your back, grabbing onto him tightly. he's never came as much as he did and he knows that it's all because of you.

you don't know how it happened but denki ended up staying the night and leaving in the early hours of the morning. this wasn't how your night was suppose to go but you don't regret it. he did what he said he would when he arrived on your doorstep, he did make you feel better and he did make sure you didn't spend the night upset and feeling insecure and alone. that night was so shitty, his girlfriend was so shitty yet he succeeded in making it a good night.

when he came to your door you thought there was a silent understanding, a one night stand and after this he'll go back to his girlfriend. for that one night he'll be making up for what his girlfriend said but it didn't turn out like that.

you expected to not see denki for months, that is if you ever see him again. you expected to go back to calling him by his last name and trying to forget what he looks like nude and how his stomach went taunt as he was about to climax but instead you saw him a week after when he knocked on your door, slamming his lips against yours and pushing you against your wall. at least once a week for months now you would see him, you know you should feel bad for his girlfriend, he is cheating on her with you, but you don't, not in the slightest.

after the first few times denki came by again you slipped in some questions afterwards, wanting to know if he was doing this with other girls. he isn't.

wanting to know if you're still the only person he's slept with without wearing a condom. yes you are and he has no intention of changing that.

you've never asked him any questions involving morality like if he feels guilty or if he loves his girlfriend. it doesn't involve you.

you're aware now your relationship has developed more than it once was, the closest label you have would be friends with benefits. some nights denki knocks on your door unannounced, like always, with a bag of popcorn and your favourite snacks ready to watch a new film that has just come out on netflix. he's probably the closest friend you have, you stay clear of his girlfriend though, she isn't even aware that you and denki are close now. hopefully the last time she's spoken about you or thought about you was at that dreadful party and hopefully it stays that way.

denki likes his girlfriend... he does... if he was quoting mean girls he'd say something along the lines of - there's good and bad to everybody. but his girlfriend is just more upfront about it.

that would be a lie though. there are some things he likes about his girlfriend and when they're alone together it can be really good but he then remembers about how awful her attitude is towards other people. towards you. sneaking around and cheating on her is honestly rather thrilling for him and he likes the idea of silently letting you get your own back.

sometimes he'll rationalise it in his own head while he's drunk. cheating on her is okay because he's always wanted to sleep with you. it's okay because ever since you first met, denki wished you were his girlfriend.

he could never end it with his current girlfriend, his parents always ask about her and it would cause a rift in their friend group. near the beginning of their relationship his girlfriend brought herself a dog but he prefers denki over her, opting to want his attention over hers. if they did break up he knows he'd never see that dog again, he's grown to love it. it's just as much of his than it is hers but he knows that that won't matter and he'll never see him again if they broke up. they work next to each other and they go to all the same places.

he could never break up with her, he'd never hear the end of it with his parents.

so for now he gets to have some joy from getting to see you and kiss you and lay his head on your lap while you watch television together. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine you're his girlfriend instead.

one night denki's at yours, you're not doing any explicit but you're just enjoying your night together, that is until she spoils it. denki's ringtone going off disrupts hot fuzz and he takes the call not even bothering to pause the movie. you decide to turn it down though. "kamiiiii, where are?" god her voice is grating. once a voice that spewed such nasty things about you now just sounds annoying. "i came by yours and you're not here."

denki closes his eyes shut tight, it looks to you that he's annoyed too. "sorry, i'm out tonight." he lies and know what is about to happen next.

"don't you want to see me. c'mon home, we can spend the night together." she giggles into the phone. you knew it. you knew what would happen when he answered that call from her.

denki knows he does't really have a choice without explaining where he is so he agrees to come see her. "okay, i'll be there soon." you both stay silent for a moment not talking before he breaks the silence. "i'm sorry love, we didn't even get to finish the film. i swear we can finish it next time." he apologises.

he thought he saw disappointment on your face for a second but he knows that he's just seeing things, you wouldn't be disappointed for him to go, you're not like that, he knows to you that he's just someone to fuck. he knows that you're using him to get back at his girlfriend. he doesn't mind that one bit though, as long as you're in his life.

"you can watch the rest without me if you wanted to." he tells you getting up from the sofa.

you shake your head, "no, no, it's fine. we can watch it next time. bye kaminari."

'oh no she's annoyed at me, she called me kaminari. she hasn't called me that in months. maybe she wanted to have sex tonight and i've ruined her plans. i can't stay now though, i'm already leaving. i'll have to make it up to her.'

you don't know why you called him kaminari, you knew it was petty but that didn't stop you from saying it. sometimes you get so caught up with denki you forget that outside of your home he isn't yours and he never will be. you're just sleeping together, that's all, and you don't want anything more than that... you don't...

denki thought about you all night, you never left his mind. he hates that he left you but he felt like he had no option. if he was anyone else he would have enough sense to distance himself from you but when it comes to you his judgement gets cloudy and he'll do whatever he can to be in your life, even if that involves lying through his teeth to everyone about where he is.

two nights after denki left after the phone call he came to yours with a takeaway in his hand and a grin on his face. he doesn't actually say the word 'sorry,' he doesn't acknowledge that he left abruptly, he just grins and asks "hot fuzz?"

you match his grin and let him in. you thought maybe you would be a little annoyed with denki after seeing him in your doorway but you realised that you had no right to be annoyed. you're not his girlfriend.

one takeaway and half a film after you're playing with denki's hair and he hums in happiness and gratitude. "i could have you play with my hair all night but do you want to take this to the bedroom love? i'm still pretty hungry." he takes your hands away from his head so he can kiss your wrist and winks at you. you roll your eyes and call him an idiot. "just for you sweetheart." it just came out and both of you heard. denki splutters and tries to backtrack what he said but it's too late, his whole entire face is red and his eyes are wide and you're doing no better. you haven't fully processed the words yet but you're sure it was accidental, it's just denki being denki. you turn your head away from him, nervous and embarrassed. your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you don't think you have the courage to look at him in the eye. even though you've talked yourself into how it was denki just being denki you still can't look at him.

the implications that he's yours makes you incredibly happy but you don't even want to accept that, after all you just see him as a friend. he's a good fuck. you're absolutely in denial. at least he isn't. he knows he wants you to be his, fully, completely, body and mind.

you both end up trying to ignore what he said, haphazardly but relatively successful, pivoting back to denki's offer of going to the bedroom. "denks are we taking this to the bedroom or not?"

'god she's amazing.' he's so glad you aren't acting weird.

denki's got his head between your plush thighs, he's holding onto them keeping them open so you don't close them and stop him. licking a strip along your pussy, before flicking your clit a few times with his tongue and then lapping up your juices as he plays with your breast and moaning at your taste. "denki, don't do that, it's embarrassing."

he looks up from where he's laying to see you, "what? enjoy myself. don't complain or i won't let you come."

the threat of not being allowed an orgasm shuts you up, knowing that denki will absolutely deliver on that threat if he wants to. you know that he would eat you out for hours not letting your come once.

you loose track of time, your hips start rolling uncontrollably and you grab hold of his hair. "don't get greedy sweetheart, you'll come when i say you can." he holds down your thighs to stop you from moving and kisses your hip, sucking to form a mark on your soft skin. his mark.

for all his threats he does let you come. "you've been so behaved. so good sweetheart," he mumbles against your skin. you come again and again. he finally lets up and you watch him lick his lips and wink at you. you turn your head away from him and he chuckles. his erection is visible even with his jeans on and denki flops down on the bed next to you, drawing you closer so you're laying next to each other, his arm under you.

reaching down to his jeans you start stroking him through his clothes. "don't worry about that, not tonight. i just wanted to look after you, make you feel good." he places a chaste kiss on you forehead.

"you always make me feel good," you tell him honestly and his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest.

"then my work here is done." he replies and you giggle. he is completely and utterly in love with you.

he can't tell you, no matter how much he wants to. you don't feel the same way and he can't lose you.

how much longer will you stay in denial for?

will his girlfriend ever find out about you two? maybe that will be your tipping point. maybe her finding out will make you realise that you want denki more than a quick fuck or a friend. maybe her finding out will be what you need. you're in love with denki.

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brailsthesmolgurl · 2 months

Text

WHERE'S MUMMY? PT.2

My first part has received an amazing amount of response, hence I decided that I would come out with a part two, and who knows? Maybe this could be another mini series for the boys? :)))) Regardless, enjoy the read!

Warnings: Comfort and Fluff, Slight Angst for some parts. Mentions of smexy times for one, suggestive for another. ANONS ARE POOPY SOMETIMES BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I WILL STOP WRITING SUGGESTIVE HAHA :(

RAFAYEL & MARIELA

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Mariela's voice could be heard from the other room at the end of the hallway as she called out to her father. Rafayel, who was busy working on one of his art pieces, dashed towards her room at full speed, panicking at how she was calling out to him. He slammed the door open, claymore ready to be withdrawn only to find his daughter on the floor, with paint all over her face and the canvas that he had provided to her.

One may ask why did Rafayel left his daughter all alone in her room while he was working on his art piece. Rafayel, being a good father, had coaxed his daughter for 30 minutes, with candies and also anything she could possibly want, only to be rejected by her. Her adamant 'NO's made Rafayel confused as to why she would want to paint alone in her room. 'I can do this myself daddy' was the last sentence she told him before she closed the door. And he wondered where she got the attitude from, and he had a good guess probably inherited from her independent mother.

So Rafayel sat at the living room, in his usual thinking corner, painting his artwork, but also carefully listening to anything that might go on in the room. He did tried and checked up on her a couple of minutes ago, knocking on her door and asking if she would like any biscuits with milk but the young child only replied 'NO' as if that is the only word she knew for the morning.

"I thought something happened to you, my little fishie." Rafayel sighed in relief, walking over to her to look at what she had drawn. He took a seat next to her and looked at her face. "How did you managed to get paint on both the canvas and your face?" He pulled the little girl into his lap and he chuckled, using his thumb to try and rub the paint off of her face and luckily it came off pretty easily. He silently thanked your effort in purchasing non-toxic paints for Mariela.

"I wanted to do it like how daddy do it." Her smile was angelic, one of Rafayel's trademark. She reenacted how she did it, by drawing air circles on her palm and on her face. "I drew here, and here and..." She flattened her palms and plopped her face onto the surface of her palms. Rafayel was in shock at her creativity.

"So you used your hands and your face as tools to draw?" He tilted his head and when the toddler nodded giddily, Rafayel pinched her cherubic cheeks. "You are an artist just like me. No wonder you're my daughter." He kissed her cheeks and carried her up in his arms. "Now, let's get you washed up and then we will show this piece to mummy when she is back from work okay?"

"OKAY!" She cheered, both arms flying up into the air and Rafayel laughed, bringing her into the bathroom to wash her off from the mess she had brought upon herself.

The roars of your motorbike could be heard and that led Mariela to jump off of the couch, with Rafayel catching up behind her quickly. "Mummy's home!" Mariela was elated, trying to turn the door knob the best she could but with her size and strength, she is not able to. Rafayel came to the rescue on time and he opened the door, smiling when he spotted you getting off of your motorbike and unclasping the buckle of your helmet, swiftly removing the headgear and placing it on your motorbike's seat. "Mummy!"

"Hey there sweetie!" You called out and shuffled over, arms wide opened and your daughter embraced you within your arms. "How was your day today hmm?"

The latter question of yours was directed towards your husband, who was standing against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his torso while watching both of his favourite women walking towards him. "It was good because there is a surprise." He winked at you and you both shared a peck, before heading in. "Mariela, do you want to show mummy what you drawn today?"

"Yeah! Yeah!" The little girl wriggled out of your arms smoothly and she waddled off to her room. You took a seat on the marble floor and awaited for your daughter's return. Rafayel taking a seat right next to you and he encircled his arms around your waist, giving your side a soft knead. The soft sound of thuds closing in when your daughter came out from her room, with something behind her back. "Mummy close your eyes."

Your husband then got behind you and he used his palms to cover your eyes, nodding towards your daughter to proceed further. Mariela pulled the canvas out from behind her and she placed it in your lap, before taking your hand cautiously and put it on her canvas. Rafayel released his hold on your face and you looked down, gasping in surprise at what your daughter had managed to colour on her canvas. But, you can't make out any shapes or sizes, other than two hand prints of hers and what seems to be an imprint of your daughter's face.

"This is so nice of you sweetie." You pulled her in for a hug and kissed her head. "Did you do this with your hands and face?" You asked just to be sure and her reaction made you stared at Rafayel. The actual artist staring back at you, shrugging his shoulders and muttering something along the lines of 'she did not want me to see what she was doing, so I left her to her own creativity'.

"Abstract art is great!" Rafayel smiled, ruffling his daughter's brunette curls which had grown a bit longer. "Daddy can put this in the next exhibition and you can go with me to see it." Rafayel looked at his daughter and she cheered, hugging you tightly and you beckoned your husband in for a hug as well.

On the day of the exhibition, Rafayel was busy attending to the guests, completing his interviews and taking pictures with his fans. You are spending time with Mariela, hand holding hers as the both of you walked through the exhibition halls. Pink and blue and purple, all colours within the same spectrum covered the walls in forms of splatters, lace ribbons were tapered to the ceilings, to add on a touch of elegance. No doubt your husband has 'extravagance' as his middle name.

Almost every corner is littered with his artworks, ranging from abstract to rough sketches, to impressionism paintings to sculptures. Rafayel is a master to all types of artworks, which gained him the fame and respect he has gotten till now. The wooden flooring resonated the sound of your footsteps, heels clacked against it in sync. You looked down at your daughter to notice the little girl has her mouth agaped, staring at all of her father's artworks in awe. Same, Mariela, same.

"Is that the daughter he had mentioned about?" A distant voice could be heard echoing from the end of the hallway and you turned around, seeing a woman clad in a formal outfit, hair neatly tied back and a microphone in her hand. A camera man right behind of her with one of his huge video cameras situated on his shoulder. "Hi, can we do an interview?"

Out of politeness, you agreed, smiling and nodding your head and the reporter crew started to approach you and your daughter. You lowered yourself down to carry Mariela up into your arms so that she could be within the shot as well, assuming the reporter would like a word or two with the renowned artist's daughter.

"How would you describe living with Rafayel, a famous artist?" The reporter held out the mic to you, awaiting for your response.

"Uhm...living with Rafayel has always been a pleasant one, as he does take care of me and my daughter's needs." You replied, a smile coming forth. "He is a good husband and a good father."

"That is good to note. Rafayel sure do cares about you guys a lot. But, would you care to say that you fell in love with him because he is rich and famous?" The daring assumption made by the reporter made you scowled in 4k on the Linkon's National Television Network.

Your eyebrows are now knitted together, your facade of being nice slowly fading behind your rising annoyance. "No. I certainly do not and will never love him just because of his wealth and fame. I love him for the way he is."

"Fans had also mentioned that you do not seem to be a good example of a mother given you are a deepspace hunter yourself. Moreover, given the recent decrease in recruits, you had to take up double shifts to cover for the incident. What do you have to say regarding this?" The woman smirked, knowing she had struck a nerve in you. Her tone coated in layers of disdain and you can see it right through. This is a personal attack towards you and your family.

Before you could retort the question, you felt a hand on the small on your back and you turned around, your husband standing upright beside you. A look you knew all too well shown on his face. "Get out of my exhibition." The crew feigned innocence, looking at one another to mentally convince themselves that they had done nothing wrong other than doing their jobs. "Nobody disrespects my wife and my family like that. Be it fans or reporters or anyone else. SO you can kindly see yourself out before I call on my security guards." The edge of his lips curled into a cunning smirk. "Which I think might not look good on your company's reputation if they were to escort you guys out."

The bunch of strangers started dispersing out of the family's sight and you looked at Rafayel, who is quick to take Mariela off of your arms and into his. "Are you okay?" He ran the back of his hand across your cheek. "I am sorry, I should have been by your side the whole time." He apologised, putting the blame onto himself but you held his hand in yours, thumb rubbing comforting circles.

"Don't say that Rafayel. You were just doing what Thomas has asked of you. I can fend for myself if those remarks were thrown to me." You gave him a peck on your cheek. "Even if the day you end up being homeless and broke, I will still love you." You looked over to your daughter, who had cosied up to her father's neck, fast asleep.

"The same thing applies from me to you too, cutie." The use of the old nickname rolling off of the tip of his tongue made you bit your lip and you could not help but to smile, looking down at your heels. His finger lifted your chin up, and he pressed a kiss onto your lips lovingly in the middle of the exhibition hallway, ensuring that reporters who may be passing by would be able to catch a glimpse of his actual exhibition of love.

ZAYNE & LUMI & IVER

"Good morning." You could make out Zayne's husky voice and his weight was pressed up slightly against your back, a kiss then planted on your cheek. "Today is Lumi and Iver's presentation day. The one where they have to bring a parent along and to introduce them."

"Oh it's today?" You asked, yawning and stirring yourself to wake. You turned over to face your husband and you opened one eye. "I totally forgotten about it." Zayne smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips this time. You felt particularly tired because today is one of those rare off days you could get whenever Wanderer sightings are not reported as often, and perhaps, with the amount of lovemaking you had gone through with Zayne last night, it was a little hard for you to just jump out of bed and get ready for now.

"I can go on behalf on us as I do not need to be in the hospital today." He smoothed his hand over your hair, staring at you lovingly with those alluring hazel-green eyes of his. "So, take your time to rest, my love. You deserve it." Another kiss is pressed to your lips for a few seconds and he got out of bed, walking over to you to pull his side of blanket over your half naked body. "I don't want you to get a cold, so you may take my side of the blanket too."

You smiled warmly at him in return and managed to catch a glimpse of his toned physique when he walked towards the bathroom to wash himself up. Once he was done, he went over to the kids' room to wake them up. "Lumi, Iver. It's time to wake up." He said gently, pushing the curtains open to draw in the sunlight. The twins slowly stirred awake and they both sat up in their beds, in a half awake state.

"Morning daddy." Lumi spoke, with Iver saying the same exact greeting a few seconds behind. As if by routine, they both extended their arms out and Zayne picked both of them up in one-go, bringing them to the bathroom so they could get washed up and get dressed for school.

Pulling up at the twin's kindergarten, Zayne parked at the allocated parking lots for the parents and he got out of the car, immediately getting stares and comments from the bystanders in hushed whispers. Not only does he own a fancy car that most parents could not afford, but he is also extremely good looking. He popped the backseat's door open and escorted both of his kids into the kindergarten's premises.

Zayne sat on the floor, just like the other parents but it felt a little out of place for him as he was the only father who attended this event. The usual stigma regarding kids shall always be tied to a mother's responsibility but Zayne has never believed in that. He strongly believes that childrens are a result of both sides of parents, hence they should be a shared responsibility for both parents.

Lumi and Iver sat in front of their father, and they noticed the way their classmates were looking over to them. "Is that your daddy?" One of the classmates asked Lumi, the toddler about her size, with big brown eyes and short brown bob. Lumi nodded in return. "My mummy say he looks very nice." The comment made Zayne looked over at the parent who is in charge of the talking child and the mother looked away in embarassment.

As usual, Zayne is used to this kind of scenarios, even in hospitals he would always be stared at by patients, some even going as far as to state that they are cured because of how handsome he is. Zayne however, never bought into any of those bullshit. It is not because he is egoistic, but he does not want to be downplayed because of his looks. The saying goes, if you are handsome, you get a certain privilege amongst the normies. Zayne wanted to prove that idea to be a total scam as looks does not necessarily equate to one's actual capabilities in getting things done. Zayne being a prime example.

The homeroom teacher came in after the bell had finished ringing and she welcomed all of the parents' attendance. Goes on about the agenda for the day and that this event is held to encourage stronger bonds between parents and children and amongst their peers as well. "Lumi and Iver's father, would you like to be the first one to start?" She asked Zayne, palms out and pointed towards him.

"Sure." The man replied, clearing his throat and standing up, his towering height a stark difference from his children. He walked to the front of the classroom. Kids of their age would have thought of him being the giant in the beanstalk fairytale if only he had green skin and a big nose. Zayne pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose and greeted everyone. "Good morning everybody, my name is Zayne and I am the father to Lumi and Iver." He sent a smile towards his kids. "I am the chief surgeon and leading cardiologist for Akso Hospital."

Zayne talked about his job, keeping it brief and non-technical as he does not want to bore anyone within the room and he does not find the need to reveal too much of his personal information. Now comes the questioning phase, in which the parents would ask questions towards the speaker to get to know them better. "Dr. Zayne, since you are a doctor, would your work take up a lot of time?" One of the ladies asked, readjusting her position on the mat.

"Yes it does." Simple and clear-cut.

"Then do you have a wife to take care of the kids for you?" Her question turned into a flirtatious attempt and a couple of other mums started to tune in, some biting their lip and some fixing their hair. Does not take one to know what was already running through their minds.

Zayne sighed, feeling indifferent to her question. He purposely held his left hand in front of his chest and he twisted the wedding band that is evident on his ring finger, the diamond cut on the simple band refracting the sunlight almost immediately. The lady who asked her question seemingly tried to choke back on her own words, face darkening to a shade akin to a tomato. "Of course I do. A doctor would not be in his or her right mind to have kids and to work full time when our job requires us to be on call for 24/7."

He continued. "My wife is a full time deepspace hunter and we are both equally as involved in our children's lives, just on intervals for the weekdays, but on weekends, we take more time to nurture them." The way he phrased his answer made the whole room went silent, the only sound present being the chirps of the birds coming from outside of the window.

"We are home mummy!" Both of the twins shouted together, placing their shoes onto the shoe rack and dashing into the house to look for their mother. Zayne followed in suit, keeping an eye on them two so they do not end up falling.

"Hey there my babies!" You called out from your bedroom, already dressed up and wide awake. Lumi and Iver both in their tiny white uniforms with stripes of blue, the uniform colour of the kindergarten they both attended. Lumi's dark hair was tied into a neat braid, an effort from Zayne's Youtube history having a streak watch for braid tutorials. Iver's hair however is soft and fluffy, the same as his father’s and it sat on top of his head like a cloud.

"How was the parent meeting?" You asked them two, and they both enveloped you into a big hug, each on one side. Both of your kids looked very happy so you assumed that it went well.

"All of our friends brought mummies." Iver stated. "Nobody bring their daddies to school today." Lumi nudged Iver and whispered something into his ear in her low voice and the boy reiterated what her sister said. "Oh and Cathy's mummy said daddy looks very good."

"She said he is handsome." Lumi corrected Iver and they both turned in sync to watch your reaction. What could you possibly say? Your husband is good looking, it is a bound-to-happen situation but you somehow wished you were the one that attended the event instead. A small slither of jealousy bubbled in your stomach. Just a tiny one.

You were wondering if Zayne took the lady's compliment until you saw your husband walking into the room, with a stoic look. He has always been stoic, yes, but this time, something is different about this look of his. His white formal collared shirt hugged his muscled figure well, his simple black tie hanging loosely below the third button, extending one's sight on his wide sets of shoulders and his v-line figure. His sleeves were folded to his forearm, veins lining against the exposed part of his arms. He placed the car keys and his glasses onto the makeup table and sent you a short look, the side of his lips pulled up into a greeting and loving smile. "Good morning, y/n."

"Good morning, my love." You wanted to believe that Zayne did not entertain the lady's compliment, but you just wanted to hear him say it. So, y/n decided to go with an indirect approach. "Kids, can you wait for mummy outside? Daddy and mummy have to talk a little." Once both of the kids had left, you turned to your 'sulking' husband who was busy changing into a more comfortable outfit. "Come on, what happened?"

"Apparently, I was the only male figure there." He spoke informatively. "And particularly, I do not find it likeable when the other parents think that I am a single parent." His sentence got you figuring when did he ever cared about what people think about him? Has the cold Dr. Zayne finally loosened up? "I find it disrespectful towards you despite them meeting me for the first time." He sounds offended and yet providing the benefit of the doubt to the other parents.

You stared at him, perplexed at the situation. "So, conclusively, you do not enjoy going to the parent's meeting?" You crossed your arms in front of your torso. "Because you do not like the way I got low-key disrespected by the other mums?" A part of you is tasting victory at the tip of your tongue for how protective he is, another part of you---, okay there's no other part. It is the least Zayne could do to show you and the others that he is in a happy marriage and you are fully content with the way he had handled it.

There is not a need to address your concerns of the woman calling him handsome anymore because you know well enough if Zayne had wanted to cheat on you, he could have done it many times given his popularity amongst the opposite sex. But he stayed loyal through thick and thin and had never made you doubt his loyalty and love to you, this being one of his prime examples of being a fine husband.

Zayne chuckled under his breath and came closer to you, both of his hands held your arms and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Low-key is too minimal of a word to describe their assumptions. It is disrespectful for them to assume I am a single parent, when I have a model wife right here with me." He ran his hands repeatedly up and down your arms to comfort you.

"Furthermore, I do enjoy going to Lumi and Iver's events at the kindergarten but perhaps next time, I would much prefer it if you went with me." He pulled you into his arms and you surrendered within his hug. "So that we can spend time with the kids and I get to indirectly dismiss any ladies who may be interested in taking your place." Your laugh further made him look forward to the upcoming event for his kids' kindergarten.

XAVIER & LUCIAN

"Daddy, what are you doing?" Lucian appeared from behind his bedroom door, one eye opened while the other half-lidded. Xavier took a peek at the clock hung on the wall. 10.30am. Lucian, however, is looking at the desk filled with all sorts of sewing needles and a bunch of fabric lapped over one another. "Are you making something daddy?" His eyebrows hinged upwards and he tried to get onto his tip toes to see what was placed on the table. Seeing his son struggling, he carried the little boy up into his arms and placed him on his lap. "I am trying to sew mum a toy, you know, like the ones that you can get from the souvenir shops and all?" Lucian looked between his father and the mess on the table, figuring out how does one make a bunch of cloths into a toy. The limitation of imagination a normal happening for a toddler his age. "What should we make for mummy?"

"A big teddy bear!" The son exclaimed, arms wide and laughing happily. Xavier chuckled along, his son not lacking any bit of his wife's enthusiasm. "Rabbit? Mummy likes rabbits." The son pressed his small index finger to his own lips, thinking to himself. The suggestion of his made Xavier's cheeks flushed red, remembering that one time when you brought him to an event and made him dressed up as a rabbit themed butler, and that is how he met Lucian's mum. Ironic, I know.

"Yeah, I guess a rabbit would do." A sigh escaped his lips when he noticed none of the cloths on the table are white. Unless his wife would be able to appreciate a multi-coloured rabbit toy, he did not want to risk it. "We need to go shopping for some stuffs. Can you go and change your clothes Lucian?" Xavier instructed and the little boy headed off to his bedroom as he was previously trained. As much as independence goes, you and Xavier had decided that some good habits have to be instilled from young. Dressing himself up being one of the disciplines you guys had agreed on.

Xavier got himself changed into a simple white t-shirt and a pair of wide jeans. Surprisingly and yet not surprisingly, Lucian came out of his room, holding a same blue jeans in his hand. "Daddy, can you help me? It is hard to pull it up-up." He pouted, handing Xavier the jeans. Steadying himself, Xavier pulled the jeans up his legs and helped him to button it. "Thank you daddy." The son grinned from ear to ear and held onto Xavier's hand, going over to put on his shoes.

Initially, they were going to ride the motorbike to get to where they are headed, but given the sun is high up the skies today, it calls for a chance for the both of them to enjoy a walk under the clear and warm weather. Xavier did brought along an umbrella as well, in case Lucian gets a little hot. Just because he enjoys the sun, he does not immediately assume his son would enjoy it as much. A lesson he had learned from his wife when you got a fever after walking with him under the sun despite you not being able to stand the heat.

The streets today are not as busy as the normal weekends, with minimal traffic and pedestrians. "Are you tired already?" Xavier observed his son, his footsteps slowing down and slightly wonky. Lucian looked up at his towering father and shake his head, hand coming up to rub his eyes and he yawned. Tears lined his eyes and Xavier bent down to carry his son up into his arms. "It's okay, you can take a nap in my arms, kiddo."

He walked down the street, passing by a coffee shop that looked newly opened. As he was looking through the menu that was on a stand outside, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fishing it out of his pocket, he noticed that his wife is contacting him. "Hello? Baby?" He immediately pressed the phone to his ear. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I woke up to an empty house. Where are you and Lucian?" You asked and he gulped, luckily he had kept the threads and sewing kits and fabrics or else the surprise factor would be ruined.

"Lucian told me that he wanted to have a walk at the park. Since you are still sound asleep, I decided to bring him out for a small walk." Xavier explained, head tilting slightly to look at his son. Still sound asleep within his arms. "We will be back around 15 minutes. Is there anything you would like me to get for you?"

"Some coffee would be great, Xavier." You smiled on the other side of the line, same as him. "Be safe when you are at the park with Lucian alright? I will just rest a bit more at home." You informed him and the call ended with 'Bye' and 'I love you'.

Arriving at a craft store, he lightly woke his son up by kissing his cheek. "We are here Lucian, would you like to accompany me to decide on what colour to get for mummy?" Lucian blinked open his eyes, those light blue irises of his slowly darkened to make up for the lack of lighting within the store. The trinkets neatly placed in various baskets and boxes amazed the child, there are so many things he would like to get his hands on.

"Hi there, how may I help you?" A senior appeared from behind the counter. A lovely lady with a hunched figure, her own kitting works worn on her. Xavier leaned closer to the counter, noticing the vast amount of fabrics, of all sizes and textures mapped out behind the counter. There are also several pictures, in monogramic style, featuring the old lady in her younger days and what seems to be her children, standing side by side, smiling with her. Her light brown eyes lit up when she caught sight of Xavier and Lucian. "Oh, what a precious child."

"Thank you." Xavier thanked her. The old lady laid her knitting items down onto the table she had beside her and she reached her wrinkly hand up to wave it in front of Lucian. The young kid was quick to react, using his tiny hand to wrap around the lady's index finger and Xavier swear he could have seen the old woman regained her youth at that moment. Perhaps reminiscing about the times when she had her kids alongside her. "I am here to get some fabric so I can make a stuffed toy for my wife."

Now it is Xavier's time to have a hunched back. He never thought the process of sewing a stuffed toy would be so complicated. Can't blame him, given his royalty background in Philos and him being an esteemed deepspace hunter in this dimension, why would he even go near anything related to sewing and knitting? It is however, a part-time hobby of yours, as you mentioned that you find it to be peaceful and helps you to focus better. It is also a good past time on the days when you are not busy out on the field.

"Daddy, daddy look at that!" Lucian called out and his head turned towards the direction his son pointed at. Claw Machine Store. Why has he never thought of just taking things the easy route? Because he did not want to. Catching a stuffed toy from a claw machine will always surpass the level of easiness as compared to making a stuffed toy from scratch. Furthermore, the thought of you finding out he actually put in the effort to make the stuffed toy for you would leave your heart melting. He wanted that from you, or more like he just wants you to be happy.

Across the street stood the claw machine store, with stuffed toys filled to the brim for each of the machines, begging to be caught. Your son's eyes are fully attached to the store now, already making mental marks on which toys he would want in his room. Your husband lack that enthusiasm, staring down at the huge bag of craft items he had just purchased from the store. He is debating against himself. Whether to catch a toy or to make one. Either one could predict for different endings, but he knows that you would be happy for both endings. Perhaps he was slightly irritated for the measuring of the level for your happiness.

"Let's go Lucian." He grabbed his son and heaved him upwards, holding the child in his arms like how one carries a log and he crossed the empty street. His feet light and quick in his steps, a habit obtained from his long-time combat instincts. The borders of the tar road ended when he stepped onto the padded pavement, putting his son down and watched as the kid hopped into the store. Xavier was quick on his tail, worried that something might happen to his son.

Luckily, the little boy with the light hair is easy to spot amongst the assemblage of neon lights and bright colours emitting from the machines. Lucian stood in front of a machine, hands pressed against the glass panel, hair stained pink from the light strobe of the machine. "Can we get this one for mummy?" His grin was angelic, but Xavier stood there, slightly stunned. Did his son perhaps doubted his sewing abilities as well like how he doubted his cooking abilities? Well, there is a possibility.

"But I bought these already kiddo. I thought we were going to make a toy for mummy." Xavier tried to test the waters and his son only responded with gestures, tine finger tapped at the glass panel again, pointing directly at the bunny plushie. "Lucian..." Xavier tried to coax him again.

Lucian then faced his father, lips pursed together. "The granny told me that you might get hurt from sewweng." The last word that has not been registered in his vocabulary. "I don't want daddy to get hurt. I don't think mummy will be happy too." For a 3-year old, his sensibility is admirable. His son's words changed his mind, and he gave the little boy a card, the one where he usually reloads a bit too much tokens in it for any sorts of arcades. "Let's get one for mummy together okay?"

"You," You closed the bedroom door behind you, a pastel pink stuffed rabbit in your grasp. Lucian had already being put to sleep shortly after his dinner because the poor boy was dozing off on the dining table. Today could have been a long day for your son. You watched your husband shifted his gaze from the mukbang show on the television to you. "Are a bad liar."

"What do you mean?" His voice feigning innocence when he sat up in a better posture, leaning against the bedframe now. "What have I done this time?"

"Lucian told me that you stitched this yourself." Your teasing smile is apparent to him now, you wiggling the bunny in your hands to show him the evident of his works.

"Do you not believe me?" Xavier's eyes widened, here comes the puppy look. He got out of the bed and slowly approached you. His aura taking a turn from being accused to being the accuser. "Or, do you not want to believe that I stitched it?"

You took a step back, your lower back pressed against the makeup table and he caged you, arms extended on both sides of your figure and he leaned in, smirking and chuckling lowly under his breath. "I...I...didn't know you could stitch toys." Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel his warm breath fanned across your cheeks.

"I feel a little bit upset now." He expressed, pressing a soft and longing kiss onto your cheek and you jolted in shock. "Your son and I had tried to get a toy for you at the arcade today but we kind of finished the credits because the machine was problematic." You would safely put a finger on the fact that he is just bad at claw machine games as per usual. "So, Lucian and I decided to go back to the store where we bought the craft products from and got the old lady behind the counter to give us a crafting lesson. Then this bunny is the outcome of the lesson."

You can feel your heart bloomed at his explanation. You felt bad for doubting his skills, and you even thought that the bad stitching of the toy is a trend nowadays hence you assume your poor husband went off fishing at the claw machine arcades. You should not have doubted his determination. "I'm sorry Xavier, I didn't mean to. I just never thought you would go so out of your way to make me a stuffed bunny. I just---" His index finger slid past your bottom lip at a painfully slow pace.

"Sometimes, you can choose other methods to let me know that you're sorry." He whispered quietly and leaned down to kiss you, the doll you were holding taken out of your hands and tossed behind him, landing on the floor with a thud and your vision blended out into both of your igniting passion.

Here you go lovelies, this is part two for the LNDS boys with their kids and you <3

Leave me your thoughts and love <3 Have a nice day to all me lovelies!!!!

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #fluffy #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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cultofdixon · 2 months

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Within Your Warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Y/N finally found a place to sleep and Daryl was going to hit anybody that disturbs her • SFW • TW: Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“You coming to the bonfire Rick has going on later?” Rosita asks Y/N while she was in the middle of her fifth task of the day, pantry restock.

“Yeah, if I’m not too exhausted”

“Well there will be alcohol. The new dude Greyson found a case of beers on his run the other day with Eugene.” Rosita hopped up on the only stool in the pantry watching her best friend work. “Even Eugene found a good scotch”

“Now that’s what I’m here for” Y/N laughs lightly finishing the canned goods and about to start putting away the new jarred stuff from Oceanside. “Do you know if Daryl is gonna be there?”

Y/N could sense the smirk on her face resulting in a groan as Rosita quickly popped off the stool bringing herself up behind her bestie.

“The Daryl Dixon? The one you’ve been crushing on since longer before I came along?”

“Yes. That Daryl Dixon”

“So…if Daryl were to come then you’d for sure come?”

“I guess—“ and with that Rosita left the pantry, leaving a confused Y/N to continue doing what she was doing before heading onto the next task.

The bonfire was happening at Alexandria. They rotate through the communities every couple days to keep the connection between their families…even if Maggie doesn’t want to step foot in Alexandria as long as he lives. Daryl was currently residing in the Sanctuary after being tasked to keep an eye on the community which felt more like a punishment and only two people understood that. Carol and Y/N. When Rosita left to find him, she half expected him to be inside yelling at someone. Instead he was working on the gardening plots with a green thumb from the Kingdom and a few Saviors that turned for good.

“Dixon” Rosita brought on her tough exterior when talking to the man in hopes that her asks would be given a positive answer. “I have to ask you something”

“If it’s about the bonfire bullshit, I’m going”

“It’s about——“ Rosita paused, relaxing her shoulders. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Rick asked, so did Aaron. You just missed them” Daryl handed the hoe off to one of the Saviors so he could get close to Rosita. “Why are you askin’?”

“It’s more so trying to get another to go tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Y/N said she’d go if you do…so does that confirm the mutual feeling that brews between the two of you?” Rosita smirks trying to get more out of the archer but he continued to have the same deadpan look from before. Her shoulders instantly slumped and the smirk faded. “Alright, loverboy…I’ll see you tonight”

“Mhm” Daryl let out a small chuckle before returning to work while Rosita headed off.

As the night came and the bonfire was starting, Daryl leaned against the picnic table holding all the goodies they brought out scanning around the intimate event in search for Y/N. Who so happened to be the last to arrive even if she lives in the vicinity.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rosita pulled Y/N aside when she was about to make small talk with someone.

“Uh. My watch shift? I just got relieved”

“What the hell?”

“What? I wasn’t gonna halt my work load for the day to doll myself up for a man who’s probably equally as tired as I am”

“Well hate to disappoint but the man is question” Rosita gently took a hold of her chin, directing her to look at Daryl while he was in the middle of a conversation with Gabriel. “Seems to have showered and dressed nicer than usual. I wonder who it’s for”

Y/N can’t deny that Daryl did indeed look extremely well put together. Did everything they used to beg him to do when they first arrived to Alexandria.

“I’m gonna go see how he’s doing” Y/N shot a smile his way which definitely caught his attention, but when she parted from Rosita to make her way over…she got stopped by Ezekiel and couldn’t just cut her friend off.

Daryl felt his small smile falter when she got pulled away not just once, but a handful of times throughout the night. He hasn’t even seen her eat or drink anything. Y/N was very popular that night and everybody wanted to talk to her, he wanted too as well but no window opened.

Until she was sat in one of the outdoor chairs by the fire, Daryl instantly took the empty one beside her and watched her tiredly look at him.

“Sorry was this—-“

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night…” Y/N sighs, finally relaxing and keeping her attention on him. “I miss you”

The heat instantly made itself present on the tips of his ears as he tried to fight back a smile.

“Missed yea too sunshine”

The two caught up on what the other has missed regarding their community, ending with Y/N talking about how much Rick is an idiot for having Daryl watch the Sanctuary. A few share that same thought but hers had a whole other meaning.

“You staying the night here?”

“Yeah, figured they’d survive a night without me” Daryl scoffs finishing his beer as Y/N curled up slightly in her chair to get more comfortable.

“Well…I still stay at Rick and Michonne’s. No one touched your room if you’d like to stay there”

“I was actually planning on it…”

“Good” Y/N continues to hold her smile that he will always take a mental picture of. Before she could get another word, Rick quickly cut in to ask Daryl himself about any updates for the Sanctuary.

Which lead the exhaustion to finally hit Y/N after a long day.

When his conversation ended by Rick running off to catch up with Ezekiel, Daryl was going to return to his with Y/N but noticed she fell asleep in her chair. So instead of waking her, he sat with her and made sure no one disturbed her.

Daryl shooed away people, even tossed his empty beer bottle at Aaron who tried to start a conversation (thankfully he caught it)…eventually he got up from his spot and carefully picked up Y/N bridal style which led her to stir awake enough to realize what was happening.

“Oh…”

“You’re alright, imma take yea home”

“Okay, long day” Y/N mumbles resting her head against his chest closing her eyes once more.

On the way to the Grimes residence, Rosita and Michonne went up to make sure Y/N was okay but Daryl quickly gave them a look to back off gently. Nothing was wrong. Thankfully they both understood.

“Who woulda thought it took having Y/N do a lot of shit today to have this tonight” Michonne stated, taking a sip of her scotch as Rosita choked on her beer.

“You’re also trying to get them together?”

“Please. I’ve been trying since our prison days. At least she can finally rest easy tonight…it’s been hard for her with Daryl at the Sanctuary”

“I bet…” Rosita continued to watch the two walk off before leaning close to Michonne with a smirk. “What’d yea win in the bet with Carol?”

“Three night shifts for the bridge camp”

“Nice”

Once they got inside the house and upstairs to Y/N’s room, Daryl gently laid her in the bed before grabbing a blanket draping it over her carefully. What he least expected, Y/N gently took his wrist tugging him back to the bed as he caught the hint or so he thought by bringing him low enough for her to wrap his arms around him.

“Lay with me…”

“Are you su—-“

“I’ve missed you so much Daryl, I’m not letting go of you that easily”

The archer didn’t wait another moment and quickly kicked off his shoes before climbing into the bed laying on top of her. Y/N let him adjust to where his head rested comfortably on her chest letting her run her fingers through his hair.

A satisfied sigh left Daryl’s lips holding her as she held him in a way where she wasn’t going to let go easily.

And he’s thankful for that

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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solarmorrigan · 9 months

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TW: Discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, child neglect. Nothing happens in the fic (all hurt/comfort, I promise), but it's very frankly talked about, so please proceed with care <3

It takes three weeks.

(In reality, it takes longer than that. It takes until after Steve realizes he’s spending more time at Eddie and Wayne’s new place than he is at his own house. It takes until after Eddie has asked Steve to just move in with them already. It takes until after Steve has packed his things up, and carefully cleaned up the house, and set the thermostat, and informed the pool cleaners, and paid a neighbor to check the mail every few days, and – he hadn’t felt right, just leaving, even though Eddie had repeatedly told him he didn’t owe anyone anything. But it had taken until after all of that, and then–)

Steve had left them a note, a new number where he could be reached, and it had taken three weeks before they came looking. Before they even noticed.

It isn’t a fight, in the end.

His parents are angry that he’d just up and left the house, but they’re much less so when he explains everything he’d set in place before he’d gone.

They want to know if he’ll be asking them for anything else after this (not if he’s safe, not if he’s happy, just if he’s going to keep being a burden).

He tells them no.

And that’s– that’s it.

That’s it.

His mom tells him they’ll call him around Christmas, let him know if they’ll be in town, and then his parents just let him go.

They get up and they leave his living room and they leave his home and they leave Steve’s life and they leave and they don’t look back and they– well, they’d left a long time ago, hadn’t they? A long, long time ago.

Steve is sitting at the end of Eddie’s bed (his and Eddie’s bed, now, their bed; Steve’s still getting used to that, but in a good way), feeling the sort of empty he hasn’t felt since he was seventeen. He’s just sort of staring at the carpet, and then he’s staring at Eddie’s ridiculous polka dot socks as Eddie steps in front of him.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “You, uh… okay?”

It’s kind of a ridiculous question – the answer is obvious, and Eddie clearly knows that, but it’s a way to start a conversation without shouting, “Your parents are ungrateful pieces of shit who never appreciated you,” like he probably wants to (and has before), and Steve appreciates his restraint.

He nods a little, stops, shrugs.

“I kind of thought I was over this,” he says. “Over feeling… left behind by them. Shouldn’t still hurt, right?”

“It’s– it’s okay if it does. It’s shit, Steve. They’re shit,” Eddie says (yep, Steve called it). “You’re allowed to be hurt.”

Steve shrugs again.

“It’s funny,” he says, even though it isn’t, “but I used to wonder how long it would take them to notice if I died.”

He’d never had an active plan, really, though there had been plenty of ways around the house to accomplish the task. He’d never really even looked at it as being suicidal, just angry and bitter and lonely. He hadn’t felt miserable all the time, hadn’t felt like there was nothing in the world worth living for – it’s not like he’d been depressed, it had just been a wild, almost satisfying thought that occurred from time to time. The ultimate way to prove a point. To make them see.

And if the urge got too strong, and his head got too full, and his chest felt too hollow, and the house felt too empty, he’d just go out and find something to do. Simple as that.

“I wondered if it would only be a day or two, or if they would come home, like, weeks later and find what was left of me just… floating in the pool or rotting in the bathtub or some shit. And I guess I just got my answer.” He laughs, managing to sound completely humorless even in the attempt, and glances up at Eddie. “Three weeks. How decomposed do you think I’d be by now?”

Except Eddie doesn’t pick up the bit. He’s just staring at Steve, wide-eyed, cheeks a little red, eyes a little wet, and – shit.

“Shit, Ed, I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” Eddie cuts in, voice thick with a shaking kind of intensity, “say shit like that. Fucking don’t ever– Steve–”

“No, Eddie, I’m sorry, I haven’t thought about that in years, this whole thing with my parents, it just… it reminded me, that’s all,” Steve says, even if that isn’t strictly true.

He’s thought about it plenty, he just hasn’t really had the urge to follow through since the first time he took a bat to a demogorgon’s head. He’d traded that empty feeling for one of purpose, of knowing he was needed, and had readily put himself between everyone else and the danger they were facing, because at least that way he filled a space.

(Maybe he’d traded it a little too easily. Maybe there isn’t a lot of difference between using yourself as bait to lure in a demodog and thinking about where all the sharp things are in the house. Maybe that’s something Steve doesn’t need to unpack right now.)

Eddie stumbles forwards, reaching out and cupping Steve’s face in his hands, angling him upwards so Eddie fills his field of vision.

“I would notice,” Eddie says firmly. “I would notice.”

“I– I know you would, Eddie. I told you–”

“Robin would notice. Dustin – all those little shits we hang out with, both Wheelers, Wayne, fuckin’ Byers– we would notice right away, Steve, I swear to fuck, we would,” Eddie goes on, and something is suddenly sticking in Steve’s throat.

“I– I know,” Steve manages to choke out, and shit, why are his eyes wet now? He’s never cried over this feeling before, and it should be too fucking late to start now – except with everything happening, with his parents, with the way Eddie is staring at him like he’s about to disappear–

Eddie bends one leg up until he’s got a knee to one side of Steve’s hip, half-kneeling over him without boxing him in because he knows Steve can’t stand that, and he rests his weight there so he can lean in and press his lips to Steve’s forehead, kissing him, murmuring against the skin like he’s praying.

“We see you, baby.”

And that one hurts.

It fucking aches, like Eddie has somehow managed to reach back four years and jam a thumb into the bruise seventeen-year-old Steve had constantly been carrying under his ribs, and Steve of right now reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt and thinks for a moment that he wants to shove him away, but his next breath heaves out like a sob and he can only pull Eddie closer.

“We see you,” Eddie says again, soft but unignorable, before he presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead.

Yeah, Steve thinks, you see right through me.

It’s a terrifying feeling, and Steve wants to swallow it up and keep inside of him where he can feel it forever. He nods against Eddie’s lips, sucking in a sharp breath so he can speak again.

“Okay,” Steve says, clutching more tightly to Eddie’s shirt. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes against the unwanted tears and lets himself feel, instead – the warmth of Eddie over and around him, the near bruising grip Eddie still has on his jaw, the softness of his lips against his forehead, and he thinks that this is what he’d been searching for, all those years ago.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this wanted, and somehow he doubts he’ll ever have to worry about going without it again.

[Prompt: Forehead kisses]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddiesteve #stranger things #hopeful ending! I swear!#solar wrote

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harunayuuka2060 · 4 months

Text

*MC's family came to visit the Royal Palace.*

Falena, Leona, and Kifaj: ...

MC's father: Thank you for granting us permission to visit today. I sincerely appreciate the opportunity.

MC's brother: Yo, ex-brother-in-law~! Looking good today, aren't we? *waves at Leona with a goofy smile*

Leona: *scoffs*

MC's sister: Can't you be the least respectful, brother?

MC's brother: I don't know. Stop being delusional first. I might consider you.

MC's sister: *glares*

MC's father: Behave. Both of you.

MC's father: *bows his head to Leona and Falena* Please excuse my children's behavior.

Falena: No, no. It's fine. Though I wonder why have you decided to pay a visit all of a sudden?

MC's father: *raises his head* *and looks at them straight in the eye*

MC's father: I want to meet my grandson.

Falena and Leona: ...

Falena: *smiles awkwardly* Please forgive me, but MC has... strictly instructed us that you should talk to them first before seeing Prince Liora.

MC's sister: How rude! They're just a commoner and they dare to instruct the Royal Family?!

Kifaj: Miss, I would like to point out that you are the one being rude to the one who gave birth to the prince.

MC's sister: E-Excuse me?!

MC's brother: We just need to ask them, right? Can you tell us where they are?

Leona: In my room, resting.

MC's sister: Y-Your room? But... aren't you two divorced? You shouldn't even-

Leona: Who are you to tell me what to do? You're just my former sister-in-law.

MC's brother: True! *nodding*

MC's sister: *hits him*

MC's father: I see that His Royal Highness still cares about MC.

Leona: ...

Leona: *smirks* Hey, father. Can I ask you something?

MC's father: Of course, Your Royal Highness.

Leona: I want to marry MC under the divine law of transcendentals.

Leona: Will that be possible?

MC's father: ...

MC's father: Prince Leona, you and MC are already married under the divine law.

Leona: !!!

Falena and Kifaj: *surprised to hear that information*

Falena: Goodness! Is that true?

MC's father: Yes. However, if the spouse who is not a transcendental decides not to acknowledge their divine marriage, they can do so.

Leona: Heh. So spiritually, we're still a couple? *smiling*

MC's father: Yes.

MC's sister: *is on the verge of tears*

MC's brother: Ooh... I know that hurts. *funnily side-eyeing his sister*

Kifaj: It seems the information has left a smile on your face, Your Royal Highness.

Leona: Is it?

MC's brother: Now all you have to do is to make them fall in love with you.

Kifaj and Leona: !!!

MC's brother: *has been following them from behind*

MC's brother: Yo! *smiles*

Kifaj: Sir, I thought you had already left...

MC's brother: Hm? I want to see my baby nephew! And father asked me to take pictures! *does a peace sign*

Leona: I don't think MC will approve it. Go home.

MC's brother: Eh? We're not close, sure. But we're not enemies either.

Leona: ...

Leona: Anyway, about what you said earlier-

MC's brother: You want suggestions? :3

Leona: ...

MC: Why did you suddenly ask me to play chess?

Leona: I just remembered that you like playing this.

MC: *looks at him, trying to discern his intention*

Leona: ...

MC: ...

MC: What did my stupid brother tell you?

Leona: ...

Leona: *sigh*

Leona: He said that one of the reasons you agreed to marry me was because I was good at playing chess.

MC: Hm. He's not wrong.

Leona: ...

Leona: Really?

MC: Yes.

Leona: How come? *couldn't hide his interest*

MC: ...

MC: *recalls how Leona looks beautiful while crushing his opponent*

MC: Beat me in this game and I will tell you.

Leona: *smirks* Okay.

*After a few minutes*

MC: Checkmate.

Leona: ...

Prince Liora: *giggles*

Leona: *frowns* I want another round.

MC: Hm. Alright. It seems entertaining for Liora. We can continue so he can watch how you lose.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst leona #twst baby liora #twst falena #twst kifaji #twst divorced au

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be-with-me-so-happily · 1 year

Text

Could We Not?

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 1 to Not Another Time ]

<< Request >> "Hey! I was wondering if you could do a one-shot where she’s like apart of the band and she gets hit in the head with a hard object while she’s on stage and Harry is super freaked out? That would be a sanity saver!" - @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

Summary: Harry Styles is used to having things thrown at him on stage. Recently, it's been Skittles, which affected his vision. But when his band members are affected, he can't stay silent. Especially when it's YN who takes the hit.

AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! YN replaces Laura in the band, just in general, only because she plays the trumpet and I still included Parris.

Warnings: Some explicit language, wound with blood, angry Harry

He can't escape it. It has carried on from his days in One Direction, and it seems to have become a permanent, unavoidable occurrence that things are thrown at him on stage.

Most are harmless, such as boas, sunglasses, or little plush toys that he is always inclined to keep.

However, there have been a few occasions where the objects were a bit more troublesome. Phones are a big one, which internally annoys the hell out of him at this point.

The most recent culprit, and the most shocking, was a handful of Skittles, one which hit him directly in his left eye. If there is a silver lining of that moment, it's that he only had to get through performing 'Kiwi' before he was able to run backstage and immediately have it taken care of.

He tries not to show anger on stage when things like that happen. He loves his fans. He always wants to treat them with kindness, acceptance, and gratitude. So he doesn't draw much attention to it. There has only been one occasion or two where he has subtly asked for some fans to stop throwing things.

Tonight, however, might be his tipping point.

Harry has brushed off the frustration from the rock hard candy incident, because tonight is a new night and a new show.

There is also the new trumpet player, YN. Well, she isn't new per say, she's been there since the tour came back to North America, but she is the newest member of the band, and the one Harry has become extremely fond of.

She fits in perfectly with the rest of the group. She is so kind, so joyful, and everyone seems to be energized just by her presence. Including Harry. Especially Harry. The moment she walked into the trial rehearsal, he felt an electricity course through his veins that he's never felt before. He shook it off as a mere, and mild, physical attraction. Then she started to play, and he was taken into a trance by her talent and passion. Then she spoke, and he felt his heart flutter more than ever.

He knows he has a crush, one that he can't talk about or act on, but it doesn't stop the forming of a grin when the horn players walk up onto the stage. It doesn't stop the goosebumps he feels when they all begin to play, being able to pick out the sound of her specific instrument. It doesn't stop the thought that those songs, the ones where they get to be there together, may just be his favorite ones to perform.

So when 'Satellite' ends, and after a good chat with the crowd, reading their signs, the four horn players make their way up the stairs as 'Cinema' begins, causing his heart to flutter and his current smile to stretch out into a wide grin.

When they play an extended introduction for 'Music For A Sushi Restaurant', he takes the opportunity to get some water and give her a quick smile, hoping that he actually does see a blush form on her cheeks, even behind her trumpet.

He stays on the outside of the stage for that song, but gets even more excited when the band begins to play 'Treat People With Kindness'. This means YN will move to one of the outside corners, which also means he'll get to be closer to her as he moves around during the song.

He makes sure to pass by her any chance he gets, but tries hard not to make his intentions too obvious, to the crowd or to YN. She's a part of his band, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, even if she does appear to reciprocate any smile or slightly flirtatious comment he makes. He wants any move made to be on YN's terms. However, that won't stop him from taking this opportunity to share a little dance with her.

"Wait for it… wait for it… wait for it. One, two, three, four!"

As the crowd shouts out the chorus, Harry stations himself next to her, moving his hips side to side, causing her to pull back from her instrument and let out the most amazing laugh.

He's going to do that every time from now on, just so he can hear that again.

That song ends, and she moves into the center with the rest of the horn players, walking through to the other side of the stage as they start their intro for 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

He moves back to the mic stand in front of the walkway, trying to catch glimpses of her every so often, as she stands near the corner to his left.

"I don't know why you're being shy, and turn away when I look into your eyes."

He takes a few steps to his left, pointing his arms out to the fans and encouraging them to sing the bridge.

At that moment, something whizzes over in his direction and lands by his feet. He takes a quick look down, and then to his left, noticing that YN has moved a few feet over to the other side of the stage. He sees Mitch taking a couple of glances over to her as well, mouthing something, but she nods and continues to play.

As the final chorus nears, the four horn players move back to the center of the stage to play the last parts of the song.

He grabs his mic from the stand and engages the crowd, instantly requesting that they applaud for the horn players. He watches as YN gives a wave to the crowd, confused as to why she isn't doing it as vibrant as normal. She could just be tired, though she usually pushes through it, but it's been an intense leg of the tour in Los Angeles.

The time between that and 'Late Night Talking', while Parris plays his beautiful solo, is usually one of his favorite moments, because he has a little bit more time to interact with her on stage. Even if it's only a quick comment or joke, he loves it and takes what he can get. But as he moves closer to grab his water bottle, he sees her talking to Pauli, who swiftly hands her a spare face cloth that he keeps by him.

Harry immediately frowns and quickens his pace over to her.

"What's wrong?"

She wipes herself off and shakes her head, keeping her gaze downward. He can't remember a time where she wasn't happy and bright. But now she looks embarrassed, and sad, which pains him to see.

"Some… something hit me."

"What? Where? How?" He blurts out, not even fully able to process what she is explaining had occurred.

"A fan threw something. I don't know what it was." She sighs, flickering her gaze up to him with a troubling expression across her face.

"Shit. Are you alright?" He steps closer to her, unintentionally placing his hand on the middle of her back, and he feels her shiver under his touch. He removes it, his eyes fixated on her, and he feels some relief when he sees a small smile appear on her face.

"I'll be okay." She assures him. Her trumpet lifts up to her lips, the ones he has wondered what they would feel like against his, and he realizes that Parris has finished his part. "Let's get on with it."

He bites his lower lip as she gives him a wink, and feels a blush form on his own cheeks. If she knew what she does to him, she probably wouldn't be doing that. But he'll take it.

He sings through the second chorus on the closest walkway, still giddy at the fact that he can pick out her trumpet from the others, and he just knows she is swaying back and forth to the lyrics as she always does.

However, he turns around to make his way back, pointing his mic back out to the crowd, and when he sees YN again, she is holding her fingers against the spot over her left eyebrow.

Instantly his chest tightens and he bounces back over there as the song ends. She makes her way back to the center with the others while he takes a quick gulp of water, turning around when they begin to play 'Watermelon Sugar'.

"I'm bleeding." He hears her state to Parris.

"Okay. Go." Parris replies, and Harry follows after her.

"YN." He tries to shout without causing too much of a fuss, but she steps down the stairs, and he clenches his jaw as he watches her make her way backstage.

This isn't good, and he really hopes he can get through this song now.

"Alright, if… if you know this one, please… please do sing along." He stumbles through his words, his eyes still glaring over to the spot where YN exited.

Performing this one isn't as fun this time, though the crowd are probably none the wiser, as he keeps his professionalism as intact as possible. But it is different. She's usually on the walkway in front of him, dancing away as she plays, causing his heart to flutter each time she moves.

He either closes his eyes or moves around the stage a bit, hoping to momentarily distract himself from her, and stay focused on the music. At least to get through the song.

And thankfully he does.

As soon as it ends, the rest of the horn players make their way off the stage, and Harry immediately rushes over to his little setup in front of Pauli.

"Start playing, but I want to talk with the crowd for a moment." He states into the band mic, for only the crew to hear.

They softly play the melody of 'Love of My Life' and he raises his hand as if to signal that he has something to say.

"Thank you Los Angeles, so much, for all of your support. I, more than anyone, know that I couldn't do this without all of you. I hope you have had a great time." The crowd cheers, and stomps, and he responds with some kisses blown around the venue. Then his expression becomes a bit more solemn and he turns back to the mic. "I want to say that my number one priority for everyone here tonight has been safety. That includes everyone on stage as well."

The crowd immediately hushes, which usually doesn't happen without his lead, and it shocks him. But hopefully it means they'll hear his message.

"I always encourage you to dance, sing, and interact. I always suggest that you treat everyone with kindness. And now, I also ask that you please think about these amazing people on stage, and refrain from throwing things that could potentially hurt someone. One of our members was hurt during a song tonight and unfortunately had to leave." He pulls back, clearing his throat in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. "We want to be able to keep doing this with you for as long as possible, so we all need to make sure that safety is our top priority. So let's keep it safe and have some more fun. How does that sound, Los Angeles?"

He holds two thumbs up to the fans, swiveling around while everyone begins to cheer again, and walks over to his mic for the next song. The last one before their little break, and before their encore. He'll be done soon.

He knows his energy has diminished a bit, which is fine for 'Love of My Life', because his mind is back on YN. He desperately wants to know if she is okay. Needs to know, at this point.

During the break before their encore, Harry rushed underneath and pleaded with the crew to find out what had happened to YN, and whether she's being taken care of. They assured him that she is fine, but he couldn't get rid of his worry.

He put on his best entertainer persona for the last three songs, feeding off the excitement of the crowd to get him through until the end.

But once 'Kiwi' was finished, he blew kisses to the fans and sprinted backstage, immediately feeling frantic.

"Jeff-"

"H, man, you doing okay?" His manager asks, concern all over his face.

"Where is YN?" Harry quickly asks, not even bothering to answer about himself.

"Huh?"

"Where's YN? She got hit by something. She had to get off stage. Where'd she go?" He asks, feeling frazzled like he never has before.

"Oh. Uh, I haven't seen her, maybe-"

Harry strides off, not really knowing which direction to head, but willing to walk all over the place to find her.

He sees another familiar face, feeling some hope that she'll have an answer.

"Lorren, where's YN?" He asks, hoping his tone is a bit more calm than it was with Jeff, but knowing he could be failing.

"She's in the common room." Lorren replies, a small smirk forming suddenly. "She's okay, Harry."

His eyes grow wide and he stands up straighter, more stable, more casual. Or at least trying to.

"Yeah. Of course. I just… wanted to check in with her." He utters, but her intrigued, raised eyebrow tells him that she doesn't accept his answer.

"Harry…" She chuckles. "I know you care about her more than that…"

"What? No-... I mean…" He sighs, running a ringed hand through his sweaty hair. "Shit."

Lorren laughs again and she puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Your secret is safe with me."

He nods and feels a hot burn flooding his cheeks, not even attempting to hide it since she clearly knows she's right.

"Does she fee-" He begins, immediately stopping as he sees her pull her lips inward. "Nevermind. Doesn't matter. I'm just… gonna check on her."

Lorren nods and smiles, squeezing his shoulder then pointing down the hallway.

"Good luck…" She teases as she walks away.

"What?"

"Nothing." She replies, already opening the door to another room.

He takes a deep breath and turns back around to the direction he needs to go, his steps faster the closer he gets to the room she is occupying.

He opens the door without hesitation, instantly seeing YN sitting on the sofa with an ice pack held on her face, and her phone in the other hand.

He clears his throat as he takes a few steps towards her, slower than they were in the hallway, and his heart pounds faster than it just had been.

"Hello." He utters, not wanting to startle her. She shoots her gaze up to him and he feels butterflies as she immediately smiles. She may have looked different on stage after the incident, but he is happy to see that her bright demeanor seems to have returned. His concern begins to melt away.

"Hi." She responds, putting her phone down, along with the ice pack. She winces as she does, and as he moves to the sofa, he finally sees the large gash on her forehead.

His heart sinks, and he is thankful for the close proximity to the furniture, because his knees almost give out completely as he takes a seat next to her, on the opposite side of where her cut is.

"Fuck, YN, are you alright?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between her gorgeous, sparkling eyes and her anger-inducing wound. His jaw instantly clenches and his palms ball into fists. He can't believe this happened, especially to her. His gaze drops, and he begins to fill with guilt. "I'm so sorry you got hurt."

Suddenly, he feels the warmth and soft touch of her hand on his, causing the tension in his palms to release right away.

"It's not your fault, H. And I'm okay."

He looks up to her again, being met with the gaze he tries hard not to get lost in, but fails every time he's close enough to see it.

"I just…" He sighs and shakes his head, not entirely sure what he wants to express, and worried it could be more than he should. "I just want to… know that you're alright."

"That's sweet." She utters, a tenderness in her tone. He smiles at the irony of her attempt to calm him, when it should be the other way around. "I am. I am alright."

A squeeze of YN's hand grabs his gaze once again, and he just sits in silence as he, once again, gets lost in her eyes.

His hand unintentionally reaches up, gently resting under her chin as he turns her head to view her wound, sighing once more at the sight of it. His thumb reaches up, gliding over her skin, right under the cut, and a tingle rushes over him.

A strong exhale leaves her mouth and he turns her head back to him, his eyes tracing the lines of her lips. He looks back to her gaze, his breath hitching at her beauty, and his body acts on his feelings as he leans in, gently pressing his lips against her own.

She lets out a small sigh, which snaps him back to reality, and he pulls back.

"Shit. I'm… fuck, I'm sorry." His hand drops and he scoots his body further away from her, feeling every ounce of embarrassment possible. He didn't want to make the first move, if there was even one to be made. What if she didn't want it? What if she hated it? "Fuck."

"Please, don't…" She clears her throat, a sudden timidness in her tone. "Please don't be sorry."

Harry's heart begins to race, and he glances up to see her smile. However, a knock on the half-closed door causes both their heads to turn that way, and they both sit up straighter.

"I finally found a bandaid." A venue staff member states, handing it to YN and walking out.

She begins to open it up, removing the strips and exposing the sticky sides, then looks around the room for a mirror.

"Here." Harry reaches out, grazing her hand, and regaining her attention. "Let me."

She hands him the bandage, and he scoots closer again, their thighs barely touching, but just enough for his stomach to fill with butterflies.

He gently places the band-aid over her cut, gliding his thumb over the corners to make sure they stay secured. His gaze drops down, and his breath hitches as he sees her gazing up to him through her lashes.

His palm slides down and rests on her cheek, and she tilts her head upwards, their lips hovering in front of each other.

"Thank you." She whispers, her own hand placing itself on top of his.

Harry attempts to swallow down the lump stuck in his throat, but is interrupted by the sudden soft pressure against his lips. He lets out a quiet whimper, and her hand moves around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. His mouth begins to move with hers, and the tip of his tongue teases the gap between her lips.

She suddenly pulls away, and a frown forms on his face, until her gaze flickers to the door and he hears the chatter in the hallway that must have caused her to stop.

He pushes back, only out of caution and respect for both of their privacy, and grins when he sees her blush.

"You know, I've had recent experience with eye injuries."

"Right. You have." She giggles.

"If you want… you don't have to… but if you want to, you… you could come to my suite." He clears his throat. "To hang out. And I can keep an eye on that injury for you."

"No pun intended." She laughs, and his grin, surprisingly, grows wider. She's still so bright, and he's already down bad.

"I…" She begins, another blush instantly taking over her delicate skin. "I wouldn't mind seeing you looking at me a little more tonight."

"Oh my god." He breaths out, swiftly throwing his palms over his face.

He feels her fingers wrap around his wrist and removes his hands to find her standing in front of him. She tugs on his arm, and he lifts himself off the chair.

"Then maybe I'll get the chance to do the same." She states, biting her lower lip before letting him go and moving around the room to grab her stuff.

Yeah. He's definitely down bad, and despite her being injured, this just may end up being the best show by far.

Main Masterlist

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If your name is blue, I couldn't tag you

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husky-studies · 1 month

Text

Concept: Dr Ratio with Ruan Mei's student reader (whos a child) meete Dr ratio's bf aventurine! (Pt 2! A bit inspired by the Aventurine in bed official art)

Warning: relationship between the reader and the characters are strictly platonic, hinted aventio

You can read part 1 here!

Aventurine could be seen clutching his stomach, rolling on the floor while the doctor was covering his flushed face with his one and only mask look alike. You just stared at them with innocent eyes, little did they know those innocent eyes held mischief intent to the duo. The doctor hadn't made a reply, probably because of his flustered state.

"Gosh this kid! I like em already!" Aventurine said between gasps of breathe. "Thank you Mr Aventurine, you're a cool person! Which is why you could do better than that..." You replied while pretending to give Dr Ratio a side eye. Aventurine's shoulder started to shake as he tried to contain his laughter. Looks like he's trying so hard to not give his stomach anymore pain.

Dr Ratio faced Aventurine, his funny-looking mask no longer on his face as he continued to introduce Aventurine to you. "Ahem, incase you didn't know, Aventurine is apart of the IPC." You nodded at him and said "I feel bad knowing you're his colleague." You smiled at the end of the sentence as Dr Ratio could only pinch the space between his eyebrows in frustration. "Anyways which uh...part is he in?" You asked.

"Part? You mean division?" Dr Ratio corrected. "Yeah that, forgot the word. Which one is he?" You repeated the question to be more clear with it. "He's apart of the Ten Stonehearts, other than that he's also apart of the Strategic Investment Department." Dr Ratio explained while Aventurine just smiled at the explanation. There was an awkward silence for awhile before someone spoke up from behind you, calling out your name.

"There you are, I had been looking for you for awhile." You turn around and found yourself looking at your teacher, Ruan Mei. "Did you need me for something?" You asked her. "No, I was just wondering where you left. The critters were looking for you as well." She said. Speaking of critters, you have an idea.

You whispered something in Ruan Mei's ear, she thought for a moment before nodding and pointed towards her lab. As quickly as your little legs could carry you, you sprinted towards her lab. "What did she asked you?" Dr Ratio asked, Aventurine butted in "Im curious as well." Ruan Mei only gave them a small smile, "You'll see."

Not long after she said that, you came back to them while carrying 3 cat critters with you. "What is that for?" Dr Ratio asked. "To keep your boyfriend company while you go beat someone up with your chalk, duh." You jokingly said as Ruan Mei looked at you, then to Aventurine. Aventurine only laughed before accepting the critters you gave him. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you. It does get lonely when he's out there beating his students with some chalk~" Aventurine dramatically replied. You two burst out laughing before Ruan Mei made her way towards Dr Ratio. "So, you and him?" She teasingly asked. "I'd rather not reply..." He said as his stone looking statue is back on his face.

Tags: @mitzukitsuna

Should I make a series of Ruan Mei's student!reader? You all seem to enjoy this xD

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventio #hsr ruan mei #ruan mei x reader #aventurine x dr ratio #hsr platonic #child reader

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

Text

Part 2

He has no right to be here.

He knows that.

He does.

Eddie watches as people pile into the church, all of them dressed to the nines. It's a Harrington affair through and through, and the sight of all these people that he knows Steve hates makes him feel sicker than he already is.

If he wasn't on the edge of crying he would have laughed at himself, like he had any right to judge anyone here. He's the one who dumped Steve. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Steve who just needed a few more years. He just needed to make sure the kids were safe until they graduated. But Eddie couldn't do it. He needed to leave, and Steve needed to stay.

So he ended it. Just like that. He ended it.

He hasn't seen him for three years. By all appearances, it was a good choice, the best thing he could have done for himself. Because against all fucking odds Eddie Munson ends up as a success. He's a star, a famous musician discovered in a shitty little bar. He somehow managed to actually live the dream he used to fantasize about.

He lives it up. He parties, he drinks, he fucks, he spends his early twenties being young and dumb like he always wanted.

And it's horrible. It's so horrible that it becomes hilarious to him. Because he knows why it's so bad. Of course he knows. But it's better this way, really. Because Steve deserved better than him anyway. He deserved someone he didn't run away, full of flimsy excuses of wanting to be out of the shitty town that made him. When the truth was he was scared. He was terrified about how much he loved him. Because what was he going to do when the day came when Steve realized he could do better?

Eddie wouldn't have been able to surivie it. So he left instead. Like the coward he was. He left so he could be miserable and famous but at least Steve could finally find someone who deserved him.

So it really was all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because if he doesn't he'd go insane wondering about what could have been. He has himself convinced that he made the right choice. Maybe not for himself, but at least for Steve.

He doesn't realize how bullshit all of that was until Dustin lets it slip. They're doing the normal routine. Dustin visits, Eddie spoils the shit out of him, and on the last day he asks about Steve. He always tries to keep it casual. Tries to never let his desperation to know what's happening shine through. But it always does, bad enough that Dustin can't help the pity in his eyes when he tells him.

Steve's getting married.

Eddie wasn't aware just how much words could hurt him until that moment. He'd been called every bad name under the sun, a queer, a freak, a fag, you name it and it's been said. But this is the first time someone else's words make him feel like he's dying.

He wasn't invited to the wedding. Why would he be? But he still found it. Because he's a glutton for self-punishment. He hadn't seen Steve for three fucking years, and he chooses to wait till his wedding day?

But it's too late for regret, he's already here. His eyes keep scanning the room, just waiting for him to show up. He probably looks like a creep, dressed in all black and fucking sunglasses, sitting right by the door. He's basically in a fucking disguise, mostly to stop Robin from finding him and kicking his ass.

Speaking of, his eyes widen at the sight of her. She's slipping out of a door to the side, quickly wiping at her eyes before joining the crowd of people. His eyes drift back to the door.

Eddie's on his feet before he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done, but where Robin is, Steve is sure to follow.

And he's right. It leads to a small dressing room. And there he is. Just like that Eddie's in front of the only man he'll ever love. Or at least, behind him. They were alone, and Steve hadn't even noticed him yet, too busy adjusting his hair in the mirror.

He still has time to leave. Besides, he didn't come here to ruin everything. He didn't, really.

But he doesn't turn around. Instead, Eddie locks the door behind him. He takes off his stupid sunglasses and clears his throat to speak, but is immediately rendered speechless when Steve turns to look at him.

He's just as gorgeous as he remembered.

His eyes widened at the sight of him, mouth opening and closing like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Why would he? Eddie never reached out. He ignored the times that Steve did, always too ashamed of himself to face his own mistakes.

Eddie always expected Steve to lash out when he saw him, if he saw him. Lord knows he deserved it. But he doesn't. He just looks...sad. And those basset hound eyes are almost enough to bring Eddie to tears himself.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, voice quiet.

Eddie hadn't actually prepared anything to say. His plan was to watch the love of his life marry someone else than drink himself into a stupor at his hotel. He...he hadn't expected to end up here. But there are a million things he wants to say to him.

I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough and I made it your problem. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Ever. There hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't regret leaving. And I thought, maybe, just maybe if I saw you move on with my own eyes I could let you go.

But none of that is what comes out of his mouth.

"Run away with me."

If Steve didn't look shocked to see him before he sure did now, "W-What?"

"Run away with me," He repeats. Because it's what he wants. It's what he needs. It's been three years of hell without him and Eddie can't do it anymore. He can't.

He hates that he's the cause of the tears springing up in Steve's eyes, but he can't take it back. He won't.

Steve looks away, eyes trained on the floor, "You can't do this to me Eddie. You can't."

But he is.

Eddie's made his choice. He was a fool to think he was capable of coming here without trying to steal him away. Of course this is where he'd end up. And he'll say anything to get him back. He doesn't care that he's too late. He doesn't care that this whole thing makes him a bigger piece of shit than he already was.

He'll be underhanded, he'll be dirty, he'll do anything to get Steve to leave with him, he doesn't fucking care. Because Steve Harrington is not going to get married today.

He waltzes right up to him. He grabs his chin and forces him to meet his eyes. He probably looks crazy, he feels crazy, "You don't love her like you love me."

He's never met her. He doesn't need to. The way Steve freezes up is all he needs to know that he's right.

He doesn't deny it, but he deflects, "Why are you doing this? You left me. Did you forget that part? I didn't end it. You did! A-And now what? We're just going to ride off into the sunset together? Like you weren't the one to just cut me out of your life-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupts. He feels calm, eerily so as he speaks, "We're riding off into the sunset together. Even though I don't deserve it. I never deserved you. And I was so fucking scared of when you would realize that. I let it eat away at me. So I left. Before you could do it to me. And I was wrong."

"Stop," Steve tries to step back, but Eddie won't let him. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

He can't stop talking, even if he wanted to, "I was so wrong Steve. And I've been miserable ever since. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'll never stop thinking about you. Even if you tell me to go to hell and get hitched I'll just wait for a divorce. Because you are the only one for me. And it took me too long to say that out loud. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Stevie."

Steve weakly tried to push him away, but his heart wasn't in it, "Please stop."

But he can't, "I love you."

Steve's eyes are closed, a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, but his voice comes out strong, "Eddie, I-I can't do this again. I can't. If you left me again I...I just can't."

Eddie can't help but wipe a few of the tears away for him, "Angel, look at me."

He waits for Steve to open his eyes. He looks so fucking beautiful that it hurts, especially since this may really be the last time he sees him again.

But he has one more trick up his sleeve, "Tell me you're not mine and I'll leave."

"W-what?"

"Tell me you're not mine. Say the words out loud and I'll let you go."

Steve stares at him. He's mad, beyond pissed that Eddie has the audacity to throw that in his face, but he's desperate. It was the last thing he said to him, murmured through the driver's side window of the van, seconds before he drove away.

I'm still yours, even if you don't want me anymore.

Eddie had cried the entire ride there after hearing that. And then a few days after for good measure. And here he is, completely ruthless at what he's willing to pull out, "You're mine Steve. You know you're mine."

It's such a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. But it's not the whole truth, "And I'm yours. I've always been yours. Tell me that's not true and I'll leave."

But Steve can't. He can't do it, just like Eddie had known he wouldn't. But what he hadn't expected was for him to surge up and kiss him.

It feels like he fell in love all over again, just from one simple kiss. Because it felt like magic was real and it decided to take on the form of Steve Harrington's lips. It was everything he had missed. Everything he had dreamed about. Eddie tangled a hand into his hair, helpless to do anything but kiss him back, harder and deeper. He wanted to be burned into Steve's memory for all eternity. He wanted him to always remember the moment that they came back to each other.

Because that's what this is. Eddie's certain, Steve was his, and he would never let him go again.

They only stop when there is a knock at the door, a muffled question asked that they can't hear over the sounds of their own breathing. It's enough to have them pulling away from each other, but they ignore it nonetheless.

Steve searches his face, one last test. Eddie can only guess how he looks right now, probably just as desperate and terribly hopeful as he felt. Whatever he's looking for, he finds it eventually.

Steve sighs, glancing toward the back of the room, "There's a window we can probably fit through. Because I'm sure as hell not going out there."

Now it's Eddie's turn to cry. Despite all of his confidence, the certainty that they were supposed to be together, he hadn't really expected it to work. But here they were, giggling with each other as they scurried out of a first-floor window, making a run for Eddie's car.

Eddie can't help but kiss him again before they get in, muttering against his mouth, "I love you so fucking much Stevie. I'm not going to fuck this up again. You won't regret it, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

Steve grinned into the kiss, "You better."

There was still so much to talk about. Too much. And they'll fight and they'll scream and everything will get worse before it gets better. And Eddie's so fucking grateful to get the chance.

And for the first time in three years, he feels alive again.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #look at me writing this instead of steddie wip i havent looked at for two weeks #idk where this came from #eddie munson #steve harrington #i do not condone this behavior but god damn is it romantic #if it helps it was a pretty shammy marriage to appease his family but that poor nonexistent bride is in for a bad time #but hey it's better than him cheating on you after you're married right?#wedding #ruined #whoops #its a bad idea to run away with your ex you havent seen in years but damn they did it anyway #angst is in there #breakup #they get back together in a very dramatic fashion

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