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undercoverpena · 4 months

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cold, lips blue

din djarin x f!reader | masterlist

summary: din takes you to see the snow, and then uses his body heat to warm you up.

warnings: softest smut soft!din. p in v. no use of y/n. loosely season one/two. same reader as isn't it - but no requirement to read. wordcount: 3.1k

With him, you’re discovering wonderlands.

Eyes finding places your dreams couldn’t even manifest, dream or conjure—shades coming to life, appearing in mixed colours and strong hues.

Each sight makes your heart do a double take as you steal extra seconds from plans to take it all in.

Today’s wonder is all white.

It’s littered with occasional grey stones and slightly blued pebbles. The piles of them doing their best to intersperse, to be a break in the rolling snow-covered hills. Provide some form of depth, give something for your eyes to latch onto—to prove there’s vastness.

The first solid thought you’d had when the hull door opened was, it’s bright. Almost uncomfortably, so,

Eyes squinting instantly, forcing yourself to see through your lashes, forearm coming up to shield you further as the wind howled and flakes began their escape into the ship.

Eyes squinting instantly, yet you force yourself to see through your lashes, forearm coming up to shield you further as the wind howled. Its mournful wail echoes through the air and flakes dance in a frantic ballet, their delicate forms swirl like spirits wishing to escape into the ship.

Stepping outside, more snow finds refuge on your cheeks, forehead and nose, resting there momentarily, before vanishing as though they’d never existed. They leave behind only the sensation, a fleeting tickle, like the echo of a memory. Just like a kiss, its presence lingers, an imprint on the skin, brief yet unforgettable.

Just like him, you suppose. Just like all the kisses the two of you have shared.

The last one, in particular.

The softness of it. The way he so cautiously slanted his mouth over yours, cupped your head in his hand and spent seconds, minutes mapping out your lips before he even slid his tongue past your teeth.

You’d made notes of things too—the low grunt he tried to bury in his throat, the way his body slowly relaxed itself on top of yours. All welcome, a weight you’d forever wear.

Forever. An odd word. Seven letters, and yet it expands through space and time. It’s ever-lasting, yet could be gone in a moment.

Turning on the spot, your senses tune in to the sounds of it crunching under your boots. Bits of it find shelter within the worn seams, seeping into the crevices as if seeking solace in the fabric that has weathered so much, all over-worn and loved.

You’re glad, in a sense.

Even if your toes grow colder and liquid begins to slide under the arch of your foot—it just means you can feel more of it. Soak as much of it in, and let it solder itself to you, so a piece of it lives within when the three of you turn your back on this place.

You hear him follow, and all you think is that he's welded a part of himself in you too.

A fragment at first—and now you’re sure he’s carved himself something larger. It's less about ordering you to stay behind, grasping for you in dark spaces that turn into heady nights spent panting. Now, it’s more about crawling in beside you because you know to wait, trusting him to always return. It's more about the way you can map his face with your palms—bask in the sensation of his breath on your collarbone...

Cold stretches there now.

You’re sure if you slide open your layers, the skin would pebble before it would begin to ache—to become desperate for cover. You wonder if your bones would want to shake and shiver; whether your blood would slow, if your mind would become a little less heavy?

“This okay?”

He speaks—making the two words slice through the howl and the heavy breaths you’re consuming.

Asking it as though a smile hadn’t been stitched into your face since the moment he’d told you he had a surprise. A treat. As though he hadn’t watched a twinkle in your eye because you know he doesn’t make half-promises and he does not give without thought.

“More than okay,” you reply, voice gentle, it flowing from your lips as you let your gaze rest on him.

Let it sit there.

Allow your mind to begin to walk away with itself as you recall the way he jolted, the soft murmur he exclaimed when he danced between being awake and asleep.

You wonder if he regrets this. Whether the way you curled into him to soothe had been a step too far; whether your palm flat to his cheek, knuckles tracing the stubble that leaves welcomed burns along your thighs, had been too much for him.

He hadn’t said as much.

Not even once.

Sighing, letting it trickle past your mouth, you stare up—the sight of frost falling seemingly coming from nowhere and yet somewhere. Lost in it. Attempting to trace, to find the origination, only to find yourself struggling to see, to focus—too bright, you think again, chin dropping, eyes closing as you take another deep breath.

It’s why it slips out, is spoken before you realise it’s left your lips. It travels in wispy condensation, hand outstretched, palm upturned, as the words fill the silence: I’ve never felt falling snow.

You hear the sound of his boots crunching snow, the gap between the two of you closing as you flick your eyes to him—not halting him, but rather ensuring he knows you see him.

The dangerous side and the gentler side; the one who hunts and the one who caretakers. And all the rest in the middle.

You drop your gaze to him—the one more beloved than ship, principles or bounties. Snow resting atop his green head, ears twitching when certain flakes make contact.

Then, you stare at the helmet. Silently asking, all done in an exchange, a purposeful distraction—with a reply given in a tilt, a descent of his beskar-covered shoulders before the child was placed on the ground.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.”

You snort. "You trust me, Mando?"

He says nothing, which says a lot.

And you allow a deep inhale to follow—one that flows ice through your nose, forcing it to crash into the sides of your lungs as you almost gasp.

It’s a different kind of cold here.

A lot of things are different now.

You don’t concede to the ache in your bones or the weariness in your jaw from the relentless clenching of your teeth. You hide it beneath a veneer of stoicism and resolve.

Because if you do, the three of you will leave.

Stubbornness, some would say; utreekov he would say.

All under his breath, later translated when your mouth wraps around his cock—when you hollow cheeks and trace the tip of your tongue along the slit as salt kisses the roof of your mouth.

He decides for you when you blow into your gloves. A firm declaration, bold: Grogu needs to sleep.

It is less a question, and more of a statement; not quite an order, but he leaves little room to argue. The child picked up, scooped practically from the ground, leaving you to face the back of them both.

If you were closer, you’d likely see your dismay reflected in the beskar. The ball in your hand melting, before you let it fall in a half-formed lump to the ground. Letting it reunite with others similar to it before your soles flatten it, crush it back into nothingness.

You shiver, with no attempt to hide it this time, his eyes no longer a threat—no necessity to fight it or bury it. Letting it rumble through you as your teeth move on their own accord. Knowing, without touching, that your lips are likely colder than the melting snow that had been in your hand.

It might not have been the case if you hadn’t taken six snowballs to the face in the last so many moments.

The balls had been cupped and formed in your palms before you'd thrown them, only to have them flung back at you. A test, an experiment. A training session for Grogu and another thing ticked off from the list of things you’d ever done.

Yet, still, there are many things left.

A never-ending listicle—but, there alongside the ones for him are even more questions you're not sure you'll get an answer on.

They won't be shared. You won't whisper them to him when you’re both bare and catching your breaths. They'll rot inside of you, leave them tucked behind sinew and held back by stronger muscles than you have anywhere else.

You know the protocol when you are back in the warmth.

Silently disrobing, entering the refresher—followed by dressing and the rest of your usual routine as the other two sit up top, one resting and the other doing his utmost to avoid.

A thing that rarely bothers you, except now, your skull throbs—pounds. A sudden desire to call out his name, to ask him to come, for no reason other than to be held. The back of your hand finds nothing but chill, cold and sweat when it brushes your forehead, an unsteadiness to your walk as you manoeuvre—so reminiscent of the first few days on the ship—his name being swallowed.

Bed, you think.

Moving slowly, each step is akin to a baby's crawl until you finally grasp the comfort of it before sliding up further into it, encasing yourself, wrapping until you’re closer to a ball than a person.

You’re not sure how long you lie, how much time passes, but when he calls your name it sounds distant—far off.

And, so he calls it again, and again. A chant, a melody, it carries around the walls and greets your ear each time. There's just no energy to reply, nothing else inside of you than being curled and willing warmth to stretch out across skin, muscle and ossein.

Maker.

He breathes it. Allows it to flow out. But, it isn’t until his hand knocks away the sheet, fingers brushing over your calf do you hear him hiss.

“Kriff, you’re freezing.”

You murmur something, mind willing for an I know but not entirely sure what hits the air. Barely able to do more than remain still, to stop yourself from shivering.

Worth it, you add. Repeating it, the bridge to the song of your name he'd begun earlier, until you open your eyes and find yourself in the dark.

It's all-encompassing in its cloak of midnight, the darkness enveloping you like a heavy shroud, pressing against your skin with an oppressive weight, suffocating any glimmer of light and casting you into a realm of shadows and ambiguity.

Then you hear him undress.

Able to tell now, able to spot when each item is placed down—like a strip tease you’ve never been privileged to actually see, but the routine is all but memorised.

You want to reply, tell him you'll be fine as a tremble rips through you—finding it’s easier to keep your teeth together. Easier to tremble and shiver and shake.

That is, until you feel him shift, the presence of him looming before his body begins to smother yours.

It's all broad, heavy—heartbeat hammering against your skin as it ripples a kind of tune through your bones. But it's the warmth you grasp for; bring closer. Your fingers digging into skin and muscle, needing him flush to you more than you need to breathe.

It’s not romantic, but in a way it also is.

Even if shrouded in a blanket of faux night, there’s something intimate about the way he feels around you. It's far softer, slower movements.

His fingers find your cheek. Thumb brushing over your lips, likely cold, lips blue, as you bite back the instinct to let it slide into your mouth. Fight hollowing cheeks around the appendage, remind him how good your mouth can feel.

Instead, you focus on him. How this time, neither of you said this wasn’t it. This wasn't the place—isn't it. No entertainment that snowy-topped hills and rolling mounds of ice could be a place he could ever leave you.

You’re thankful, more than grateful.

Wishing to say as much as you shift your body under his, his thigh slotting more gracefully between yours, so much so, that makes you whimper. A sound that makes his head move, shift quickly.

A shyness falling over you, a veil of it, weightless but still there.

You're sure he's reading you, scanning you, deciphering everything the noise could mean even in the dark.

But, it's obvious that you want him. A thing you almost shrug out, but he shifts again, purposefully rocking his thigh, intentionally pulling another whimper that proves that you're throbbing. That you need him. More than a requirement, more than survival—

Warm me. Keep me warm.

Fingers sliding to his waist, resting, thumb stroking as you nuzzle your nose against his cheek. A sign without words, a signal that flashes in its own way.

Your wants rolling, clumping. Not too dissimilar to the snowballs you had made earlier—them all compacting, hardening.

Please, Mando.

Even if he thinks you just want him, you want more than the solid length of him inside of you or his palms on the back of your thighs.

It's a thing which circulates, and you ponder over it. Turn it over when you wake before him and let sit on the back of your tongue when he's showing you what buttons and switches mean on the ship.

Because you want to know his smile, the shade of his eyes—see the faces he pulls when he tilts his head and know the unfiltered sound of his laugh. You want him to never let you go. To never let you slip under, to hold you, to always be—

“Mesh'la…”

You hadn’t known you’d been speaking out loud. Letting confessions fall, like the earlier snowflakes. Except they hadn't landed softly, or gently. But rather laboriously, thickly—making the small space feel much narrower.

Realisation slams your heart into your chest, halting thoughts, and silencing your apparent babbling.

Head turning, silence doubling—air tightening—before you think and speak, “Should be saying that t-to you.”

He hums, it vibrating through him, fluttering over where your chest meets his. “I’m not... not mesh'la.”

“Don’t need to see you to know that you are, Din.”

You’re cautious with it, his name.

Barely used, barely warranted. A thing given to you one night when your face was buried into his neck—a silent promise made when he’d handed it to you. An offering.

You feel his head rise, each of his muscles taut, and you close the gap, moaning your gratitude into his mouth, all messy.

Rustling sheets sounded, suddenly aware of him. Feeling him. Pressed against you, heavy and leaking, as the rest of him remains tense. Caged in his bicep, mouth unwilling to release yours, to be anywhere but reading the rest of your wants straight from your tongue.

"Got you," he moans, signing it against you as he moves, positions himself before you can feel him nudging at your entrance, "I've got you."

And he does.

Slick with need for him, in a slow thrust, he sinks into you. Deeper and deeper. Clutching onto him, hanging more imperatively to him as he pauses, lets you adjust—mouth sliding over yours as he waits for the sign to move, to go, permission to further set you aflame.

You think each time you’ll be used to how he stretches you, how delicious it feels. How you’re so full, so content, and how he feels all warm and soft against you. But this time it’s different. Not just in the way he moves, but in the way he kisses you, in the way he murmurs soft phrases to your neck and collarbone.

Some you make out and make heat rush to your cheeks. Some you begin to try to translate before a drag of his cock sends the words spiralling into a mess of letters that fade as quickly as they were spoken.

Toes curling, fingers digging further into his waist and shoulder—leaving something on him, even if he’ll bury it in armour.

It's a thing you’ll know. He’ll know. A thing which makes him bite down on your shoulder and ask for more.

A demand which makes your back arch, makes you drop a curse as your vision blurs and your toes curl as his pace picks up.

Because you’re trembling for an entirely different reason now. So close to fracturing, to coming apart—letting have it all, the good, the bad and the parts which have rotted before he lay beside you. Seeing stars in a galaxy of nothing all because of him—I’m close, so close.

"Let me feel you."

All gruff, grunted into your neck as you tighten, clench, tangling fingers into his curls for leverage.

It should feel like falling, but it doesn’t. Never does.

It feels like an explosion. A pause—like you’re floating, not rising or descending. Just there. Flames roaring through you, burning away any leftover chill, as you flutter and howl out his name.

You writhe, whine. Moan. Paint the small space with nothing but pleasure and thankfulness and Din, oh, Din, as he tells you how good you are, how well you take him.

And, he’s not far behind. Can tell from the babbling and then the choked back where he emits as you croak back inside. Internally pleading, wishing, crossing fingers and toes that he does so, when you feel him spill into you when your name sounds both sweet and sinful as he groans it.

As he buries a word that sounds similar to mine into your neck, hips stuttering and stammering as you wrap a leg around him in response.

Yours.

There’s a moment.

The air tightens when breaths are caught and heads are clearer. The space the two of you are in is on edge. Subconsciously tensing. While you, after the softness of the moment, are unsure whether you’ll be rewarded with more or something akin to the opposite.

He answers by pulling you closer, no space between the two of you. Just sweat and skin and nil else, as his mouth and hot breath rest against your cheek, your own fingers finding purpose in his curls.

That’s when you hear it, a whisper, barely discernible from his heaving breaths: They’re brown. My eyes are brown.

Smiling, you swallow.

Nodding, something you hope he can feel.

Because a shade is something, far more than you had this morning—and it’s plenty enough, for now.

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hellcatinnc · 5 months

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Guys Of Love & Deepspace Perfect Partner - SFW Edition

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Warning This includes: SFW(Read Tags Before Continuing)

Tags: sfw, fluff, romantic, cuddles, snuggling, romance, poetry, kisses, french kissing, breakfast in bed, pet names, cuddles from nightmares, taking care of you when your sick, care, cooking together, food, movie watching

Feature: x Fem! Reader

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Zayne

He challenges your mind and can talk to you about some of the most interesting things at times, however he can also bore you sometimes if he gets too lost in his medical advisories

if you ask nicely he will let you lay in his arms as he reads to you may not always be what you want to hear but its his way of comforting you

if you fall asleep on the couch he will carry you to bed and tuck you in, he doesn't want you getting chilly and catching cold

he will make you soup and make sure to have medicines on hand for you when your sick

he is the guy that when he kisses you he will always caress your cheek first before engulfing your lips into his

kissing is how he expresses his feelings sometimes when words escape him or he has a hard time expressing them. If he french kisses you while already kissing you then he is showing you the passion you bring out in him

he loves to take you to nice restaurants ones you been wanting to try and the money isn't a issue and he always pays even when you try he will take care of it before you even get a chance to try. He knows you don't have the money his job has and he wants to spend it on whatever your heart wants.

he loves taking you on vacations when his work allows its and tries to make as much time as he can to be on those vacations longer than just a day.

Even though he doesn't always show it due to lack there of knowing how to express how he feels sometimes, he is a doctor because he does care about people but he cares about you more than any of them and you should never forget that.

Most times he will use your name and not pet names but if your good and you beg him to show the endearments you might get him to call you honey or dear but in the bedroom you might just get called kitten if you ask nicely

he gives you the silent treatment when he is mad, but he can't stay mad with you long especially if you bug him and try to cuddle and kiss him he will forgive you in no time

he lectures you because he cares when it comes to your health and how you eat, granted you have to tune him out most times when you want that sweet piece of cake or that bowl of ice cream but he means well.

he is the guy that will put his coat around you when your cold

he carries candy with him all the time and in certain moments that may stress you out he will simply pull one out to make you smile again even if only for a little while

he has a sweet tooth but he tries to keep that from anyone knowing because well he is a heart doctor and telling people whats not healthy and to stay away from would just make him look like a hypocrite

he is very subtle when he does little things to impress you or let you know he cares, if you don't know him well enough you will miss these hints

he will carry an umbrella on rainy days and even when you forget yours, he may not say anything to you but when it starts pouring down he will just open his umbrella and put it over both of your heads

when he doesn't think your looking he will smile if nothing but for a moment because even though he spends so much time babbling about what you should do to change trust me he wants you just the way you are flaws and all even though he can't say it....yet!

he will call you after a late night at the hospital especially after a stressful day and although its a short call and you don't know why he is calling but its because after all the stress in his day your the only one that makes his heart a little lighter

he loves making little snow creatures for you to hold on to when he can't always be with you

he loves cats they fascinate him he loves to watch them as they bask in the sunlight or lay under a table. the first animal you two will probably get will be a cat

he likes sending you text messages some that are meaningless but they make him smile even if you can't always see him smile

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Rafayel

He always spoons you every night before sleep

he is very romantic a bit of a hopeless romantic

loves to call you pet names like darling, baby, and honey

breakfast in bed when you worked so hard the day before

will run you bubble bath after a long day

never forgets birthdays, anniversaries, and especially not valentines' day this man lives for these holidays to shower you with gifts

he will stay by your side when your sick taking care of all your needs

he can be clingy but honestly in a good way its part of his charm

he does have abandonment issues but this means when he is loyal to you he will never ever leave you as long as you never leave him

he has lower self esteem than you think he does, he flirts and comes off that he has it all together but when he is vulnerable you can see the scared little boy under it all afraid to live without you and afraid he will mess it up and you leave

he will fall asleep with his head on your lap or lean against you so you can rub his hair

he may seem like a baby girl but down deep he really is just a genuine guy, yes a bit flirty but its all fluff to make you notice him because when you make those advances back you will leave him flustered.

he is very caring and will always be compassionate with your needs

he will always protect you and keep you safe. He is that guy that will pull you into his arms to shelter you from harm, or jump in front of a bullet if he feels its to save your life

he will fall asleep sitting on the couch, in a chair or against the wall because you had to work late and he refuses to go to bed without you.

he is the guy who likes matching shirts, or ones that say he is your is prince and your his princess

he will hold you hand any chance he gets but you can't just drop his hand whenever you want, when he slides his fingers between yours this isn't jsut regular pda he is telling you no matter where you are...you complete him!

he is the guy that will bring you an umbrella then pray you will put it aside and stand in the pouring rain with him. He will be that guy from romantic movie clique where he will pull you close while you are soaked to kiss your lips so tenderly you almost lose your breath.

he is very loyal and if he makes a promise its set in stone if he has to move heaven on earth or dive the lowest depths of the ocean he will make it happen

loves to recite poetry to you to show you his affection

he loves to give you compliments daily like your beautiful, stunning, a model or anything that makes you smile because that was his goal all along. He will do anything for that smile, that smile that you show to only him, its like no other smile that lights up your face and only he notices the difference.

He loves when you tell him about your day if you spend with friends or what not but he does get jealous if they made you smile because really he wants to be the only one that makes you smile. Then he might get pouty and ask if he can join next time.

he will take you to play the claw machine just so he can win every one of the plushies for you

he will take you to the arcade and he will play every game that gives him tickets so he can turn it in and surprise you with something you wanted from the prizes

he can be greedy when it comes to you, he is a introvert anyways so if he could keep you to himself and never share you well he would be in heaven

he likes to be playful in your banter with him he just enjoys this time together this is how he knows your the woman he wants to spend his life growing old with...yes he has been thinking about popping the question way before he should but he is waiting for the time to be the most romantic and when he doesn't think he will scare you away. Know this though he would have already married you if you would have let him.

he will carry your bags with no complaint

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Xavier

He likes to have a romantic night under the stars just you and him and a blanket with your favorite champagne or wine

he will keep the house clean and in order for you if your sick and can't do it because he knows it will be helpful for you

he will cook you a meal and alternate nights of when you cook and do the dishes however he isn't the best cook so be prepared to watch or help one

picnics are cute and sweet and he loves laying in the sunlight with you taking it all in and making memories

he is a good listener since he doesn't talk unless he needs to. He will lay with you for hours as you tell him the good and the bad in your day without every interrupting you or changing the subject.

he tries to be an optimist to keep you level when you feel like the world is caving in on you

when you cry he will be the first there to wipe those tears off your face and make sure you feel validated

he does have a mischievous/cheeky side to him that comes out when you least expect it

he will spend all day playing the claw machine even if he doesn't always understand the mechanics just so he can get the plushie you wanted most

he will turn on the shower and get your towel and stuff together just so you can have a nice hot shower...he might join you though ;)

he will go grocery shopping with you and carry those bags of groceries even though he complains a bit he really means nothing by it more of a banter than anything

he likes when you tug his shirt to let him know you don't want him to leave even if you didn't say it

he likes a good movie on the couch cuddled up next to you, after all the work he does everyday this is perfect way to relax with you in his arms.

he won't tell you but when you feed him things like strawberries by mouth you think he is focusing on the strawberries instead its the feel of your fingers touching his lips which make him want to kiss you, then when you put them in your mouth he can't take it any longer he will pull you in for a kiss by then.

he doesn't mind watching chic flicks with you and you talking about the lead actor being hot but he will sit there and tell you why all the reasons he is a better hunter and that this guy you find so hot to be the most horrible hunter he had ever seen...the green eyed devil bites him from time to time

when you fall asleep on him in a movie he will carry you to bed and tuck you in, he won't linger but thats because he respects you in that way

if you have a night mare he will run to your side comforting you. he will tuck your hair behind your ear, turn on the light by your bedside table and let you tell him about it, then he will tuck you back in bed and hold you the rest of the night to watch over you while you sleep

he likes to pick at you at times, like one night he woke you and you were calling his name, he reminded you that dreams are what you think about all day he will tell you with a joke that he knows now you were pining for him all day this is just some of his banter and fun ways he picks on you

when your hands are cold he will intertwine his fingers in your and rub them getting them nice and warm for you

if you find yourself in the hospital he will sit right there with you until your feeling better and can go home he will be very stern but thats cause he cares so if the doctor says lay down he will make sure you do if they say don't talk he will put his finger over your mouth to hush you. this is the serious side of him you never knew was there but he is worried cause you are in the hospital

he can be very over protective at times

when he has alone time with you he doesn't want to share it so he will mute your phone and his if it gets too annoying he will turn them off this is his time right now

he loves to snuggle into your lap and nuzzle into you this is the time you get to feel the closest to him, this is that bit of him thats vulnerable, that part that will admit that in his lifetime he has never met someone as special and as important to him as you are to him

he loves to sleep but has a hard time sleeping most places cause he always has his guard up but when he is in your arms he sleeps the best, soundly and feels safe with you even if he thinks he is the more skilled fighter

if you have something on your mouth he will lean into wipe it from your lips stealing a kiss while he is already there

he is very confident in himself even though he doesn't do well with others most times he is still comfortable in his own skin especially since your beside him touching that very skin as he loves when your caress his hands and arms when you are cuddled in a blanket on a cold day

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angelsdean · 3 days

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desitel feelings / love timeline (2 me)

DEAN:

immediate attraction in s4 (hello he has eyes!)

s4 - 5, going from allies to friends, crushing hard and shooting his shot / flirting, but all of it goes over cas's head

s6 betrayal / cas's s7 death: when he starts realizing that the way he feels abt cas is Different and More than just a crush / friendship. bobby and sam not reacting the same way to cas's betrayal and death really starts to get the gears turning. then when bobby dies, dean also realizes his grief over cas is different from his grief over bobby. (also the keeping his coat, carrying it with them in every new car all throughout s7. like that man was in Love-love.)

s8: purgatory solidifies dean's feelings. all dean can think about for a year is finding cas, saving cas. he prays to him every night. his mind is just a skipping record of cas, cas, cas. i think by this point he's accepted his romantic feelings for cas. and by the end of s8 he was ready to tell cas how he felt in the crypt. he changes "love" to "need" (which imo is MORE insane and vulnerable actually) and then dean perceives cas's actions after the crypt as a rejection of dean's feelings). meanwhile, cas has not yet even realized his own feelings for dean are romantic love yet, more on that in a minute.

s9 - s12 imo are dean grappling with the fact that his love is unrequited and trying to live with that and maybe move on (drowley summer of love).

s13 -s14 : first the widowers arc of it all. dean realizing no matter what, cas was IT for him. there's never going to be anyone else for him. he doesn't want anyone else. dean accepting that cas is effectively his life partner and he's fine with them staying platonic (bc he still thinks cas doesn't feel the same way). dean stops hooking up. dean is content with the family unit they have made for themselves.

s15: dean grappling with the knowledge of chuck's manipulation over the years. dean questioning what's even real ("is his love for cas even real?") cas asserting that they are real. divorce arc. destiel miscommunication at its finest. dean once again thinking cas doesn't care for him the way he cares for cas. dean nearly losing cas again in purgatory and deciding to put his heart on the line (was going to confess before cas cut him off). then---cas's "i love you." dean overwhelmed in the moment. dean still not sure what cas's words mean until cas is taken by the empty and he processes the speech and declaration. and then he realizes--cas was in love with him. it was mutual. they could've had it. they could've been together for years. the one thing they both wanted---

CAS

immediate attraction in s4 (hello he has eyes! many eyes in fact!)

s4 - 5: going from allies to friends. cas remembering what it's like to FEEL again ("for the first time") after his millionth lobotomy. dean re-awakening those feelings, both for humanity at large and for dean specifically. but cas doesn't have a name for these feelings yet. he attributes them to his bond with dean / assumes most people feel like this about dean.

s6 - 8: cas largely still attributing his feeling for dean to their unique bond. cas putting the mission first. cas also dealing with his own guilt over his failures. not a lot of time for him to process his feelings for dean.

s9: cas has his italicized "oh" moment. i think it's a combination of being human and for the first time all the angel stuff isn't there, he can't attribute his feelings to their "bond." he's rooted in his body for the first time, really in-tune with his physical reactions too. i think early s9 is when he starts to realize his feelings for dean are different but he's still not quite putting a name to them. then metatron calls him out on those feelings (his snarky knowing "he's in love...with humanity") and then dean dying really solidify cas's feelings. he is now aware.

aaaaaand then s10 - 12 is him grappling with those feelings at the same time that dean is really starting to accept that cas doesn't feel the same and is trying to accept that they'll be nothing but platonic and move on. so that's why you get stuff like dean calling cas their "brother" (he's trying to be ok with this) while cas looks sick to his stomach bc he is just now really accepting and processing the fact that he's in romantic love with dean. gotta love that classic destiel miscommunication, never being on the same page at the same time.

by s13 he's accepted he's in love and is now thinking it's one sided and this is all they'll ever be. he's also still kinda avoiding it all throughout the later seasons, putting the Mission first again, leaving more often, focusing on jack stuff. really just putting his feelings on the back burner.

then s15. just like i said in the dean bullet point, the divorce arc stuff is more classic miscommunication. cas so badly wants dean to ask him to stay. dean so badly wants cas to stop leaving. they both need to just have one good conversation about all of this. anyways, the "i love you." truly i think mr. avoidant cas would have continued to keep his feelings for dean to himself perhaps forever, had it not been a life or death situation where he realized telling dean his feelings would trigger the empty deal. but he does tell him. and my personal headcanon is that when he does tell him he gets hit with a wave of feeling from dean (along with the love in his eyes) that basically confirms to cas that dean actually has felt the same way all this time. and also, i think cas has partially known for a while but let his own self doubt and insecurities convince him that dean couldn't possibly feel the same.

Additionally: i do enjoy another late seasons variation, where BOTH of them have a mutual awareness of each other's feelings, but they both let insecurities and circumstances convince them it's not the right time, or they don't deserve to have this. they keep putting off talking abt this thing between them because there's always another apocalypse or big bad. because saving the world always comes before their own personal desires and happiness. so they keep putting it off until it's too late, until there's no time left. by s15 they're both feeling desperate. it's the end. they both feel they need to say something. dean tries in The Trap. cas finally does in Despair. and then there's just no time left. it's over. they never got to have it. (YET. because their story ain't over!)

anyways, i'm multitudes girlie and can enjoy many different interpretations, esp in fics, but this is my main destiel + feelings interpretation for when i'm watching the show and engaging with canon.

TLDR: they both start Feeling things for each other immediately. dean realizes these feelings are romantic love and puts that name to them first around late s6/s7. dean Accepts these feeling around s8. while cas has his realization that these intense feelings are romantic love around s9. and accepts them at some point between s10 - 12ish.

#long post #destiel #headcanons #mymeta #dean studies #cas studies #destiel dynamics

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tadc-ragatha · 8 months

Text

Being Their Friend

TW: Breakdowns/crises (mentioned), knives, swearing, centipedes, bullying, general mental health stuff, Zooble's limbs being (painlessly) moved/stored/body horror

Type: Headcanons

A/N: Hi. These are just for fun; don't get up in arms if they aren't perfect (they can't be anyway, considering how far into the show we are). Requests aren't open (EDIT: they are open now). Spoilers obviously. Includes only the main six because I honestly don't know enough about Caine yet.

Pomni

Being her friend entails a multitude of existential crises. Everyone's trying to find their own way to cope, but expect to be helping her through many a panic attack. She's a hot mess most of the time, and doesn't really know what to do.

As seen in the trailer, she still gets scared of getting hurt, much unlike people like Ragatha who know they can't be harmed by knives or whatever else Caine throws at them. It'd be your job to help calm her down during these situations and help her adjust to not being hurt.

Other than that, I imagine once Pomni gets (semi) used to living in the digital circus you'd spend a lot of time looking for the exit. She definitely wants to get out of there before she becomes abstracted--something she knows is possible with her mental state. She also just wants to get her and everyone else out of there. Even that jackass Jax.

Pomni would take a lot of comfort in the things that connect her to the real world like food. If she offers you some food, you know you're really friends with her. If she had access to drawing/painting equipment or whatnot, I reckon she'd try to draw herself in her real form (if she could remember). She's like to see what you look like, and would compliment you on your appearance.

Ragatha

Ragatha's been in the digital circus for a while, and is much more comfortable with it than some of her other friends (or so she likes to pretend). She's fine with getting hit with knives as seen in her introduction short and likely wouldn't be scared of dying by anything else. As she said, her only fear is centipedes.

Still, it'll be your job to get them out of her room for her. Everyone knows what an arsehole Jax can be, and she sure as hell isn't risking walking into her room to find tens of thousands of them. If you don't do it, she's staying in your room for an indefinite amount of time.

Actually, I think Ragatha would like to have sleepovers anyway. It'd keep her impending thoughts at bay. Even if she doesn't require sleep, it's fun and reminds her of home. Like I said in Pomni's section, I think she'd enjoy drawing or painting. Or any creative visual art really, but especially drawing and painting for the purpose of making pictures of what you look like outside of the digital world.

Though be warned, the sight of her may send her off on a spiral of homesickness. Since Ragatha serves as a kind of rock of stability (as best as her overly optimistic self can), seeing her collapse may cause the others to collapse, too. Except maybe Jax, but it'll be up to you to try and get everyone back together before abstraction happens.

Jax

First of all, I don't know if this is possible. Not only are we so little into the show to really know, but Gooseworx also said he's going to have some really bad scenes. So, I suppose you won the lottery in doing this...Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it.

Because first of all, he's still a massive dick. He's just rude to everyone, so expect nothing different. He'll still be a jerk to you, "prank" you, or really, just straight up bully you. Honestly, half the time you can't even tell this guy is supposed to like you. He doesn't even really say sorry unless it's sarcastic.

The only way you can tell he likes you as a friend is when he gets all up in arms about you being annoyed at him. At first, at least, he's confused as to why you can't just let it go. Over time, though, he gets more in tune with his emotions and starts to mellow out a little.

However, it does come with the perk of having someone who will beat the ever-loving life out of whoever hurt you. Okay, well, not that far--he's got to keep his reputation as someone who doesn't care about other people, so he'll at most just be a bit of a bigger pain in their side. But it's still there.

Things you'd do together include terrorising the other members (or, he tries to get you in on it, anyway), sneaking into people's rooms to snoop around, and all-in-all just being a bit of a pain. But you also do other things; he seems like he's not one for visual arts or theatre, but maybe he could play an instrument and may--very heavy on the "may"--teach you some stuff. Otherwise, I don't think he's an arts guy. He'd enjoy video games, though, if they had those! And going to the digital carnival for thrills along with just exploring the grounds.

Kinger

Kinger would be an interesting friend. I have two routes for this guy based on a theory I saw. Route one follows him actually being on the brink of insanity/abstraction. In this route, you have to make sure he's alright. Just be gentle with him and check up on him every now and then. But don't be in his face all the time. Everyone needs a bit of personal space.

You can still hang out with Kinger, obviously. You can still talk about things you'd normally talk about, whatever that may be. Just don't bring up the abstracted queen (who I shall be calling Queener). It'll bring up some...Bad memories.

Anyways, my second route is this: based on a theory, Kinger is actually one of the more stable ones in the group, and is just pretending to be on the brink of losing it. Basically, if I remember right, he's pretending in order to get out of the activities/shenanigans of the group.

But no matter what his reason for doing it is, he's smart as hell. Having tricked everyone, it'd take a keen eye to figure it out. If you do, he'd be impressed. Once he trusts you enough, the two of you will discuss the other circus members and how to outsmart them secretly. You'll also just hang out, gossip...He feels like a guy who'd be into drama, with his whole being the actual king thing. You two would do some impromptu skits and whatnot to pass the time.

Gangle

Oh, Gangle. What would you do with Gangle? Well, you'd certainly have to be gentle with her. She's a very fragile soul--and also fragile physically--and needs some care. Help her repair her mask, or better yet, stop Jax from breaking it in the first place. In fact, just stop him from doing any mean stuff to her in the first place.

Other than that, Gangle is someone who'd actually enjoy drawing as a hobby and not just a memories thing. She draws anime, and would make you and her anime personas with cool abilities and features like wings and shit. I imagine her art style is very early-mid 2000s anime, with the really big eyes and whatnot.

Anyways, I reckon she'd also write. Mostly fanfiction when she wasn't stuck in the digital world, but since there's no fandoms to write about now she'd start branching out into her own original stories. But don't get me wrong; if anyone was going to write about their friends and fellow members it'd be her. She just hides it somewhere other than her room. Gangle would like to write stories about your sonas going on adventures and saving the world.

Eventually, these stories probably get found by Jax or someone else (but probably Jax). He'd laugh his arse off at them and would run to tell everyone about it. Unless you can absolutely beat the shit out of him, prepare to do some explaining and also comforting for her.

Zooble

Zooble does not give much of a shit about the others. They wouldn't let them die (at least I think so), but they're in no way buddy-buddy with them. In order to be friends with them, you'd have to meet their strict criteria. So, good job on that!

Being friends with them would either involve lots of gossip because they want to talk shit about people and complain, or it'd have no gossip because they honestly couldn't care less about the others. I can't tell. But if you do gossip, I imagine they know a lot about the other members. You'd be filled in on everything they know, too. They've been dying for someone to tell this too.

Zooble's also very particular about their looks, as seen in their introductory short. They have many stored limbs and whatnot to swap around for their mood. Don't mess with their body by switching around their antennae-like things or ripping off their body parts like Jax. They will retaliate.

Going off of this, though, I imagine they're pretty strong. I mean, they choked Jax like that. So, if anyone (him) comes around to piss you off, you best bet they'll be on their way to beat his arse. Though, it probably ends in a tug-of-war with one of their arms.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 7 months

Note

I know you probably JUST posted the FNAF Movie request where the reader possesses Sparky, but after reading it this idea popped into my head and I need to get it out there.

Could we have a sort of continuation of the 'Sparky reader' fic that takes place towards the finale of the movie? The idea I had is that after Abby helps the animatronics remember that it was William Afton who killed them, the reader actually joins up with the others in confronting him. Additionally, William is shocked because he wasn't expecting the reader to have also possessed an animatronic, let alone that they would have command over the others (he probably thought he was the only one with that kind of power).

👀

The first Sparky!Reader part

........

"Look at you...look at the nasty things that you have become! Look at how small you are! How worthless you are!! You are wretched, rotten little beasts! I MADE YOU!!!"

Even as William shouted angrily at the animatronics, pounding a gloved fist against his chest, he realized how quickly he was losing his ability to keep them in line.

Thanks to that brat showing them the truth in a stupid drawing--which proved that he, the yellow bunny they once trusted, was the cause of all their pain--they didn't obey him anymore.

Now he couldn't control them like he used to.

No longer were they blindly singing and dancing to his tune.

Because they finally remembered what really happened that day.

He then heard another pair of heavy footsteps, and from the darkness emerged a character he had almost entirely forgotten about:

Sparky.

But how was he moving? And why?

William swore that mutt was sitting in the backstage area, deactivated and unable to walk freely.

It was impossible.

Unless....

"Of course..I figured you would have woken up eventually, too." He chuckled weakly, taunting you all. "So what's your plan now? To kill me? Shove me into a suit like you did to those poor people?! Well you can't...because I know how you all think!! I'm smarter than you!!"

"No. You are a fool, Afton. It isn't us who will kill you."

His laughter ceased upon hearing your disembodied voice speaking to him, and he froze for a moment, bewildered by what you had said.

It was extremely unnerving to learn that your ghost could even talk to him at all, considering the other children have been silent.

What made you so special?

Unfortunately for him, he realized far too late what you meant by those words...as he noticed you gesturing to Chica, who sent her Cupcake after him.

It lunged with a growl, biting into the torso of his suit and not letting go.

He grabbed onto it, struggling to tear the feral little bastard off of him, not knowing that would be the last mistake he ever made.

When he finally managed to toss the Cupcake away from him, it took a chunk of the suit's fabric with it, exposing part of the springlock endoskeleton underneath.

And without any material for the mechanisms to stay compressed against...

They snapped, one bar stabbing into his side and sinking deep into his flesh, blood leaking through his shirt almost immediately.

With a gasp of pain, William collapsed to his knees as the springlocks continued to puncture him one by one--with you and the other animatronics simply staring him down, watching him endure the same torment he brought upon each of you.

None of your suits were made from springlocks, of course...but now he, too, will know what it's like to be encased inside a tomb of fabric and metal forever.

He scrambled for the Springbonnie head that laid beside him, only to see your brown paws snatch it off the ground.

You kept his above his head, just barely within his reach.

All he did was stare into your glowing red eyes, shocked at the commanding presence you held over his creations. He had no idea how you got them to follow your lead so easily.

Yet despite knowing that he lost, he refused to lie down and show any sort of fear.

Instead a grin appeared on his sweaty face, each exhaled breath growing more strained than the last.

And before you shoved the Springbonnie head onto him, forever sealing him inside his tomb, he made one final haunting declaration:

"I always come back."

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #animatronic reader #freddy fazbear #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the pirate #springbonnie #william afton

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grandlinedreams · 3 months

Text

|| uhh i forgot the mating bond is just kind of a feelings/vibe pathway rather than talking so just assume reader is Daemati or smthing idk i'm too lazy to fix it and it's part of the fic

|| warnings: enemies(ish?) To lovers, mating bond fic, angst, some pining, cursing, nsfw ㅡ oral (f & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, piv unprotected sex (make informed decisions, kids!), breeding kink

You'd always been a sucker for fairytales.

You'd grown up on a healthy dose of them, tales repeated over and over with the weary affection of your mother as you clamored for them again.

And what young child wouldn't enjoy stories of knights and dragons and damsels in towers? Where the villain was always clear cut, good and bad measured in black and white.

Too bad the real world never dealt with such things. No, there was no prince to kiss you from a death-like slumber, no knight to rescue you from a tower.

But there is a Cauldron, the Mother ㅡ and whatever gods exist to laugh at the hand that they've dealt you.

That's the only reason you can think of as to why you, part of Rhysand's Inner Circle, can only stare in mute disbelief at Eris Vanserra as the mating bond, mocking you with the idea of shimmering gold, snaps into place.

“Are you done moping yet?”

“For the last time, Mor,” you huff as you turn the page of your book, “I'm not moping. I'm busy.”

“Busy,” Mor mocks. “Looks like moping to me. You need to stop hanging out with Az so much.”

She waits all of two minutes before she's moving towards you, knocking the book out of your hands to drape herself across you like a contented housecat. “Come on, you need to live a little.”

“I'm four hundred and fifty years old,” you counter, hating the way a smile twitches at the corners of your lips. “I think I've lived quite a lot so far.”

“Being a bore with books and training isn't living,” Mor protests with a huff. “You've been acting weird for the last two decades, don't deny it.”

You freeze. “I have not.”

Honey brown eyes meet yours. “Have too. You've been acting weird ever since that run in withㅡ”

You slap a hand over her mouth. “Don't,” you hiss, then recoil. “Did you just lick my hand?”

Mor grins as you wipe your hand on the couch before she eyes you, brow furrowing.

“Seriously,” she says, her expression sobering. “Did he do something? Because you know Rhys would want to knowㅡ”

“No, Mor.” You push her off of you and stand. “He didn't do anything.”

Left, right, dodgeㅡ

“Somebody's in a mood,” Cassian pants as he narrowly avoids your fist to his jaw, his eyes gleaming as he studies you. “Normally I have to drag you out here to train.”

“You don't have to drag me anywhere,” you fire back, pushing hair out of your eyes. “Just felt like it was time for a tune up of hand to hand.”

“And I get to be the lucky punching bag? I'm honored.” Cassian straightens, and you hate the way he studies you ㅡ the way Mor did, equal parts concern and curiosity. “Are you okaㅡ”

“Cauldron boil me, I said I'm fine!” You know it isn't fair to snap at Cassian, but you've felt off kilter all morning ㅡ since Rhysand had told you of the impending arrival of Eris ㅡ presumably to discuss the ever shifting agreements in the tentative allyship with him.

Just hearing his name had put you off of your breakfast ㅡ not out of indignant disgust, though you wished it were. Anything but the traitorous lurch of the bond you'd hoped would bury itself and remain forgotten.

Mate, it whispers, an adder coiled in the back of your mind. Your mate.

Only if it snapped in place for him too, you remind yourself viciously. Only if you accepted it.

And you won't. Not now, not ever.

“There you are.”

You force yourself not to freeze, turning slowly to lock eyes with the one person you'd been doing your best to pretend wasn't staying in your home.

Eris eyes you, and the lazy trace over your legs and back up makes you want to slug him and preen in equal measure, the latter only adding to your mounting irritation. “What do you want, Eris?”

He huffs, eyes gleaming. “Now, is that any way to talk to a guest?”

Pretentious asshole. Your teeth clench hard enough you think something might pop as you exhale. “My apologies,” you grit out, “how can I help you?”

Eris’ eyes gleam, and you get the distinct impression that he's laughing at you. Not just at you, but at the shimmering coil in your head that sings in his proximity.

He approaches and you take one wary step back after the other until your back meets smooth wall ㅡ and Eris is in front of you. He's devastatingly handsome, staring at you with an intensity that makes you want to punch him.

It also makes you want to ㅡ no. No.

“Back off,” you hiss.

“Or what?” He's taunting you. “If i were a lesser male, I'd think you'd been avoiding me.” His eyes glitter as he leans in. To anyone who could stumble upon the scene, it'd look…intimate. “But that can't possibly be what you're doing, right?”

You should hit him. Tell him to fuck off, to get away from you ㅡ to leave entirely. You hate how he eyes you, the simmering song that your veins respond with in kind.

“Come on, little rabbit,” he exhales, voice low and almost a purr. “Where are those teeth you showed me last time?”

You snarl, hand fisting into his shirt ㅡ and you yank him to meet your lips. It's an aggressive kiss across the board, teeth and tongue as he shoves you further against the wall, and you hate how something in you purrs at the pressure.

This, at the very least, is horribly familiar. His touch is not unknown on your body, the snake of warm fingers against your sides so eerily similar to the handful of rendezvous so many years ago, a lifetime ago, before ㅡ

Mate. A bond untethered, unanswered ㅡ and icy water douses the ignition of flame in your lower belly, sours the warm lips against your neck.

“Get off me,” you rasp, ripping yourself free. “The next time you touch me, I'll cut your hands off.”

“I want to get drunk.”

“Hello to you too,” Mor blinks up at you, studying the tension in your shoulders. “Any special occasion or…? I feel like I should intervene if this is going to be a bad idea.”

“Since when have you turned down a reason to go to Rita's?��

Mor only frowns at you, then gentles her tone as she sets a hand on your shoulder with a call of your name. “Tell me what's going on,” she murmurs. “You've got us all worried, babe. Talk to me.”

You debate telling her to forget it, to take it out in the training ring or to simply take a good, long walk along the Sidra ㅡ and then Mor presses gently, “Is it Eris?”

You tense further, and she looses a curse. “I knew it was a bad idea to have him stay here. If he put his hands on youㅡ”

“Mor,” you cut in. “It's not…not like that. Not anymore.” One eyebrow raises at the anymore, curious as she watches you. You exhale slowly. “My mating bond snapped into place.”

Her eyes widen, and you can't stand the sympathy in her eyes ㅡ the idea that you're a star-crossed lover, helplessly in love with someone you aren't Cauldron-bound to. If only ㅡ perhaps you could handle that a little better than being bound to the person you are in love with.

Who's never shown a hint that the bond has snapped into place for him. Never wanted you for more than the intervals of hands and teeth, murmured filth and promises that'd made your toes curl ㅡ and been all too happy to pretend you didn't exist except for those moments.

“Oh,” Mor says, and your chest aches. She, of all people, knows how Eris is ㅡ and the way she stares at you makes it worse. “Oh, honey.”

She doesn't coddle you, because there are no tears to shed ㅡ you buried those along with your end of the bond, thrown a shield around it, tried to forget. You had no Prince, no Knight.

(You'd never been good at being a damsel, anyways.)

You don't know what Mor says to the others, but you don't really care when it lands you at Rita's, snug between Cassian and Azriel and all too happy to drown your woes in the sharp tang of alcohol.

You don't need coddling or pampering ㅡ you know what you need, and it drives you from the safety of your brothers, joining Mor to chase the pounding thrum of music.

You're not sure when you end up with an unfamiliar Fae male's hands on you, only that you simply grin and welcome the advance, the simmering promise in his eyes to give you what you need to forget the ache in your chest ㅡ at least for tonight.

And maybe tomorrow. And perhaps the next ㅡ whatever and however long it took for Eris to leave, to let you bury that bond back down where it belongs.

It's as his lips are brushing over your neck that he's wrenched away from you and you blink, admonishment on your lips ㅡ and it dies a quiet, quick death at the absolute fury blazing in Eris Vanserra's eyes. Not at you, no ㅡ at the male who'd been touching you.

“Get your rutting hands off of what isn't yours,” he all but snarls, and you watch as the male disappears back into the crowd before Eris is focusing on you. “And you. Come with me. Now.”

Some of the drowsy edge of alcohol is beginning to wear off, and you blink before your eyes narrow. “No.”

A muscle in Eris’ jaw jumps. “We need to talk.”

Defiance ignites in your veins, fueled by alcohol, the ruined distraction (from the very male before you), and the irritation that he won't just leave you alone.

But maybe this is what you need ㅡ that final nail in the coffin, the claws to finally dig the bond out by the roots and get rid of it once and for all.

So you grit your teeth, shoving hard against the ache of your chest as you bite out a flat, “Fine.”

The trip back to the House of Wind is silent, tension rolling off both of you in waves. Eris doesn't so much as look at you, but the set of his jaw says he's still pissed. About what, you don't know ㅡ he's the one who came to crash your little party, acting as though he has a right to you.

He doesn't. The only claim he can say he has is the times he's made you cum on his fingers. You refuse to look at him, to entertain whatever self-righteous game he thinks he deserves to play.

This is your home, not his. Regardless of how tonight ends, you will not be the one leaving.

Somehow, be it for better or worse, you end up in your room. Eris surveys it, taking in all the little pieces that make this yours, then turns towards you.

Arms crossed over your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “Well? Talk, or get out. I don't appreciate you ruining my night.”

Anger flares, smoldering as Eris offers a terse, “I don't appreciate you letting other males touch you like that.”

You scoff. “You don't get to boss me around, Eris,” you hiss. Your voice is sharp. “You make it sound as if you're my mate.”

Eris’ eyes blaze, the flicker of flame at his fingertips as he snaps back, “Because I am, damn it!”

You freeze.

Eris, so much like the wildfire he embodies, keeps going. “I'm trying not to act like some feral animal, but you make it so hard not to when you parade around like that, it makes me want toㅡ” He cuts himself off.

The silence between you is brittle, cracking under the strain of things unsaid ㅡ and then you break the silence.

“Makes you want to do what, Eris?” A gentle, tentative tug at that bond ㅡ reeling at the presence on the other side, an answer after decades of silence.

His eyes lock with yours as he steps towards you. This time, you don't take a step back. “It almost makes me want to apologize to everyone who's about to hear you scream my name.”

You don't respond, but you don't have to. The shiver ripples through the bond, the blown quality of Eris’ pupils before he pounces.

His mouth is hot against yours, demanding in ways both familiar and not as you moan, fingers digging at your hip before you're backed against the wall next to your dresser. Something clatters to the floor, but you can't bring yourself to care about anything but the wedge of Eris’ leg between your own.

He licks into your mouth, muffling the choked sound as he grinds his thigh up against your core. You shudder at the spark of pleasure that ignites, a reflexive jerk of your hips to chase it as Eris nips at your jaw.

“Tell me how many others have seen you like this,” he murmurs darkly against your skin, “so I know how many times to make you come so you'll forget anyone but me.”

You want to answer, you truly do ㅡ but he takes your beat of silence as a prompt to tense his thigh, and it wipes your mind blissfully clear of anything but the molten warmth pooling between your legs.

It should be embarrassing, rutting against his thigh like some desperate animal in heat, but Eris meets every tiny noise that leaves your lips with approving nips of teeth in your skin and the wander of his hands to pull at your clothing until he meets bare skin.

His fingers work from your hips to your navel, then to your ribs ㅡ and then he's pinching at your nipples, turning them to achingly stiff peaks as you groan and rock your hips harder against his thigh.

And then he's slipping it away, leaving you to tremble and pant as you watch him. He could leave you like this, desperate and aching ㅡ and his eyes darken in answer before he's backing you against the dresser. More things clatter to the floor, but Eris doesn't give you time to care with the way he lifts you onto the now empty surface.

His mouth is hot against your neck, drifting to your collarbone, then to your chest ㅡ nipping and sucking marks you're sure will bruise ㅡ and then your abdomen, your core clenching around nothing when you realize his intent.

Lacquered wood creaks in protest beneath the hard curl of your hands on the dresser, fighting the urge to dig your hand into Eris’ hair as he takes his sweet time sucking marks into your thighs. “Eris,” you huff, head spinning with heady arousal and the remnants of alcohol, “please.”

That deceptively soft mouth pauses as he looks up at you, eyes wildfire-bright. “Oh,” he murmurs, “say that again.”

You blink before there's the barest drag of his tongue against your folds, prompting a sharp gasp and a whine when he doesn't repeat it.

“Come on,” he coaxes, watching you in a way that makes you want to smack him. Your frustration must echo down the bond, because all he does is laugh. “Manners, darling. Manners.”

You squirm as he nips just shy of where you want him, and you groan. “Please,” you exhale, and Eris smirks.

“Much better.”

And then his tongue is on you before you can curse at him, lips parting around a moan as he begins to work at your aching core. Your hand finds his hair at the same time that he flicks his tongue over your clit, and the answering groan that you get makes your eyes roll.

Despite never having had his mouth on you like this before (not for lack of want, truly), Eris seems to know how to get the loudest sounds from you. Your head thumps against the mirror behind you, fingers curled tight in his hair as he works you steadily towards orgasm.

His eyes don't miss anything, locked on your face and the way it contorts in pleasure, lips parted as you writhe and pant. It feeds his own pleasure, the steady ache of his cock in his pants as he renews his efforts.

Your orgasm builds like a storm cloud, the ever tightening knot in your lower belly that has you at the mercy of the male between your legs. Eris knows how close you are ㅡ how can he not, with the way your thighs tremble, the steady leak of arousal against his tongue ㅡ and there's no small amount of pride to have you this desperate with just his mouth.

The knot snaps when Eris digs the tip of his tongue against your swollen bundle of nerves and you arch with a sharp cry. He follows the shudder and jerk of your hips as you come, tongue rolling over your hot, pulsing core to swallow everything you have to offer.

You whine as he works you through your orgasm until you're pulling him away, panting as he presses damp kisses to your thigh. “I certainly hope I haven't worn you out already,” he murmurs, and your breath hitches as warmth simmers between your legs again.

Part of you wants to tell him that this is nowhere near the kind of talking the two of you need to do, to discuss the bond, to decide if you accept it or not. But you're shoving at him, single minded intent in the way you back him against the wall and sink to your knees.

If Eris is surprised at the way you shove at him, he hides it well, dark eyes tracking as you as you thumb at his hip bones, popping the button of his pants and tugging ㅡ leaving him bare before you. And then your mouth is on him, and it's hard to think about anything at all.

There's pride to be had in watching his face contort with pleasure as you lick precum from his tip, sliding your tongue against the underside and feeling him throb in answer before you take him into your mouth.

Eris groans as you envelop him in the wet warmth of your mouth, the deliberate press of your tongue against the underside of his shaft as you suck.

“Fuck,” Eris swears, voice rough and hips jerking with a hiss when you hum around him. You can feel him throbbing, the steady leak of precum that slides down your throat as you swallow.

His hand finds your hair, an echo of your own just moments ago and you let him guide you along his length. His chest rises and falls unsteadily, the glisten of sweat at his neck and chest, the soft grunt that leaves his throat when you suck harder.

You watch his head hit the wall with a muffled thump as you curl your tongue against his underside, hips jerking once, twice ㅡ and then he's spilling down your throat with a groan that borders on obscene.

You swallow before you pull back, and Eris pants as you bring a hand up to wipe at your lips. He watches you, tracking the way you slide your finger into your mouth to clean it ㅡ and then he's yanking you up, pinning you against the wall once more to kiss you.

It's an all encompassing kiss, sounds muffled as he presses into you hard enough that you can feel the stir of his cock against the apex of your thigh.

“Eris,” you gasp against his mouth. “Eris, stop.”

He pulls away, eyes on yours ㅡ and the flicker of genuine concern makes your chest ache. “We need to talk,” you say, as if you aren't both in varied states of undress ㅡ or your mouth wasn't around his cock just a moment ago. “Actually talk.”

You almost expect him to ignore you, to press for this ㅡ but his expression sobers, and it almost hurts to watch that desire for you snuff out like candlelight. “Okay.”

Part of you wonders if Mor and the others are home yet, or if they'd heard the two of you ㅡ and wisely decided to make themselves scarce, because the house is as quiet as it's ever been.

Eris still looks far more composed than you feel, and you take a steadying breath as you wrap your fingers around the comforting warmth of the mug of tea before you. “...How long have you known?”

You don't have to clarify, the gentle tug on the bond that's answered in kind on the other. “A while,” Eris answers, and it hurts that he seems focused on anything but you as he exhales. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you to stay last time you were in Autumn Court.”

Something dangerously soft unfurls in your chest, renders you mute as you study the curl of steam from your mug. You could have.

Eris’ eyes flick to you, then away. We both know that isn't true.

He's right. You never would have, and he would never have asked ㅡ you love Velaris, you love your family too much to ever stray too far. Perhaps that was also why you'd spent so long shoving the mating bond down, pretending it didn't exist ㅡ so that if it did snap in place for Eris, you wouldn't have to confront what you are now.

All you can feel is the ache, echoed in tandem, the way you almost wish that it wasn't there at all ㅡ and you recoil from the hurt on his end. He exhales. “Do you really…”

You curl in on yourself. “No,” you mumble, “I just ㅡ I'm terrified, Eris. We both know what we won't give up, and I don't…I don't know how we're expecting this to work.”

Eris is silent for several long moments before he moves, and there's the press of warm fingers against your jaw, coaxing you to look up ㅡ and then he's kissing you.

It's sweet, gentle ㅡ and it only makes you hurt worse as he pulls away to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your forehead. “We'll figure it out.”

ㅡ

When I said we'd figure it out, this is not what I thought we'd be doing.

You can feel his annoyance, the flare of it at your answering amusement. It's what's working right now.

So you say. He falls silent, and you resume tying your leathers. What exactly are you up to, anyways?

Training. You finish, making sure that they're in place properly before you exit your room.

Such a shame I'm not there to admire you.

Your heart, the stupid thing, gives a soft flutter that you know Eris is undoubtedly aware of. More like distract me.

Would that be so bad? You roll your eyes, shaking your head. You're the one who's holding out on me, love. Don't think I've forgotten.

That you haven't technically accepted the bond, that you'd instead offered what the two of you have been doing for the last few weeks since Eris returned to Autumn Court. Which was, in truth, perhaps, a coward's way out.

Because for all your jabs and steady ebb and flow through the bond, you're still terrified. That though the Cauldron had given you him, he could still be taken away.

There's the distinct feeling of warm fingers against your mind, stroking ㅡ trying to settle you. I've waited this long for you, you know.

Sunlight warms your skin. I bet I have you beat in terms of waiting.

We'll see about that.

“There you are,” Cassian calls as you approach. “Thought I was going to have to drag your lazy ass out of bed.”

“As if,” you snap back, but you're grinning as you stretch. Cassian smirks, eyes gleaming ㅡ relieved that you're back to normal, if not perhaps a little cheerier than you have been in a while.

No doubt in large part to me, right? You almost drop your practice dagger, rolling your eyes as you square off in front of Cassian.

Not everything has to involve you, you answer, knowing that the barb isn't anywhere near as vicious as it could be.

But it could, Eris answers. As I said, such a shame I'm not there to admire you. He pauses. Shall I tell you? Or let you imagine on your own?

Your movement stutters for a second as you swing too wide, rolling backwards to avoid Cassian's own lunge at you. I'm busy.

So you're not imagining my head between your legs again? He sounds all too pleased with himself, with the way you fall silent ㅡ abruptly thinking of that exact thing, much to his amusement. Because I am. You're so cruel, not allowing me the pleasure of fucking you with my tongue again.

You block a blow meant for your middle, swinging your leg out. Sweat drips down your temple, the familiar ache of your body that sparring always gives you ㅡ and more, the curl of warmth at Eris’ words.

Or maybe I should have let you finish on my thigh first. You certainly were eager. Your breath stutters. Or perhaps my fingers next? I wonder how many you can take. Last time it was two, yes? Should we try for a third? He pauses, ever the satisfied fox for how your end of the bond goes silent still. Or perhaps you'd prefer my coㅡ

Eris. He's laughing at you now, amusement echoing even as you throw up the barrier, blocking him out.

Across from you, Cassian eyes you. He's aware of that far-away look, the snap to clarity once more before your eyes narrow on him. “Don't,” you intone in warning, and he grins.

“What? I didn't say anything.” He straightens, dusting off one of his bracers, the gleam of the siphons in mid-day sun before he approaches to clap you on the shoulder. “I'd pay to watch you shut him up in person, though.”

“That,” you murmur, “could probably be arranged.”

ㅡ

To be fair, you don't bake a lot. And it'd taken an inordinate amount of courage to ask Elain to help you, the soft, knowing look she'd shot you that'd made your cheeks color.

But she'd helped you knead dough, rolling it out and crimping it into place so that now you had a pie.

A pie that mocks you with the simplicity of it, the last minute effort of adding coarse sugar to the top so that it glitters like the frozen crests of the mountains. Simple ㅡ perhaps too simple.

Nothing like the elaborate things you've seen in windows of bakeries, in glossy magazines ㅡ you've never been good at that. Decent yes, but never so to recreate anything so elaborate.

You groan, pillowing your head into your arms ㅡ only to lift it a moment later at the crisp, Autumnal scent that invades your senses. As if you'd need even that ㅡ there's the familiar tug at the bond that has you watching as Eris strolls through the door.

You don't leap into his arms. You don't even tackle him ㅡ but there is a swiftness to your gait that has you against him in a heartbeat, face tucked into his neck.

“Well,” he murmurs, “was my presence missed that badly?”

“Shut up,” you huff, but there's no venom ㅡ not when the knotted tension in your chest is easing, made quicker for the arms that wind around you, tucking you tighter against him.

“Here I thought you'd be so glad to have me back,” Eris sighs in mock-lament. “Your beloved mate had to find a believable enough excuse as to why I had to come here. Don't you think that deserves a kiss?”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, even as the little bit of truth to your situation sinks home. Autumn Court is beautiful ㅡ but there's good reasons as to why Eris doesn't want you there more than absolutely necessary. Reasons that you forcefully shut out, instead studying his face ㅡ just as he spots the pie.

“What,” he murmurs, “is that?”

Your cheeks warm, even as you scoff. “A pie.”

“Obviously,” Eris says, arm still slung around your waist. “But where did it come from?”

You study the wood paneling, the carefully detailed artwork from Feyre when she'd stayed here. The cabin isn't often used ㅡ and when you'd asked for usage of it, Rhysand had the audacity to smirk at you. Eris prompts you with a call of your name, and you almost contemplate winnowing and trying again later.

“Me,” you answer finally. “I made it. For you.”

Eris freezes against you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you before there are warm fingers on your chin, coaxing you to look at him ㅡ the only warning that you get before he's kissing you.

You can feel the grip he has at your waist as he backs you until you meet the counter, your noise of surprise muffled by his mouth. “Eris,” you manage when he pulls away for a moment, “I worked hard on that pieㅡ”

“And I'll happily eat it,” he huffs against your neck, voice low and rough as he lifts you onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. “I'm busy right now.”

You want to protest, but his teeth are bruising over your pulse, making you shudder and lean away, giving him more room to work. It earns you a low growl of approval as he busies himself with sucking marks into the column of your throat.

One hand curls against his shoulder as the other slides into his hair, earning a groan when your nails curl against his scalp. Warm fingers slide up beneath your shirt to yank it upwards, contact of his mouth broken long enough to toss your shirt somewhere else ㅡ and then he's mouthing at your chest, tongue sliding over one achingly stiff nipple and then the other.

“Eris,” you exhale, “godㅡ”

He nips sharply at the underside of your breast. “There are no gods here, love. Only me, and I don't share.”

It's spoken in the tone you know is that primal edge of the bond, the innate need to take you ㅡ that'll have him near feral for days if another male so much as looks at you. It thrums in your veins, feeding your need to answer in kind as he grinds down against you, hard pressure against your core making your eyes flutter.

And then he's pulling away to tug at your pants, kissing his way down one leg and then the other ㅡ and then that sinful mouth is on your core, just as he'd promised. The roll of his tongue has you moaning, hand in his hair to keep him from pulling away ㅡ even though you know he won't.

You have no doubts that you're absolutely soaking as he presses into you like a man starved, keeping your legs parted as he fucks you with his tongue. Your back arches as he sucks at your clit, the sharp, broken cry that makes him smirk against your aching core.

Your orgasm is looming, brought ever closer by every curl and roll of Eris’ tongue as you pant and writhe, fingers of the hand not occupied in his hair scrabbles for purchase against the counter beneath you.

As he'd done weeks ago, Eris works you through your orgasm as it washes over you like a thunderclap, letting up only once your noises have been reduced to whimpers and you're tugging at his hair.

Warm, damp kisses trail up your abdomen to your chest before Eris kisses you, and you moan at both the taste of yourself on his tongue and the fingers that he slides into you.

You're slick enough that the slip of them is easy, and Eris groans at the way you tighten around him as he works you open. The stretch of his fingers has you keening and arching into him as his thumb finds your clit.

“I told you,” he murmurs, “how I intended to admire you. But you making all of these infernal noisesㅡ” He curls his fingers and you keen, hips jerking against his hand. “And it makes it hard to stay focused.”

You wish you could answer, you really do ㅡ but the way he's working you towards a second orgasm has robbed you of any eloquence beyond shuddering gasps and hiccuped moans.

“My pretty mate,” Eris groans into your neck. He can feel the way you tighten as your orgasm nears, the lewd sound of his fingers as they thrust in and out of you. His cock throbs in his pants, and it's self-control alone that keeps him from spilling into his pants as you soak his hand as you come for the second time, making such pretty noises that Eris swears it's all he wants to hear for the rest of his immortal life.

He finally has the courtesy to lift you off of the counter, a slick mess left behind that he entertains the idea of making you clean up later with a hand in your hair and his cock in you as he takes you from behind ㅡ and the answering flare of arousal from you almost makes him want to do it now.

But it's the soft plush of a bed that meets your bare back, legs parted to welcome the settle of Eris between them ㅡ deliciously bare, erection just shy of where you want him.

And despite the two orgasms he's coaxed from you, you have no qualms in telling him as you rock your hips up, head tipping back against the bed. “Fuck me properly, Eris.”

He raises an eyebrow, a Cauldron-sent menace as he tongues at the marks he's left on you, strawberry blossoms he's made sure will get the point across. “Ask nicely, love.”

You huff, then knock your leg against his hip, rolling so that you're straddling him now, hands planted against his chest. “You need to put that mouth to better use than pissing me off.”

“I already did,” Eris answers, cocky gleam to his eyes that makes you roll your own before he's hissing as you take him into your hand, guiding him to your slick entrance before you sink down.

“Being my mate doesn't excuse you annoying me,” you say, tone shaky for the way pleasure spiderwebs at the stretch of him inside you, the golden whisper of finally, finally, finally.

Eris’ expression is also taut as you clench around him before he offers a rough, “Say it again.”

You stare down at him, aware of the way his pupils have blown so far you can't tell the color of his eyes anymore, the steady throb of his cock inside you. You don't have to ask what he wants you to say.

You stretch over him, the slow roll of your hips that has him gripping at you even as your lips meet the delicate arch of his ear and you offer a breathy sigh. “My mate.”

Eris snaps. You can't even yelp as you're flipped back into the sheets, moan leaving your hips as he bucks into you. The pace is aggressive enough that the bed creaks in protest beneath you, but you can't bring yourself to care.

Nothing matters beyond the hard thrust of him inside you, tip knocking against that spot inside you that has you making sounds that'd put a pleasure-hall to shame. Your fingers curl against his back, rewarded with a groan that makes you tighten around him further as his hips roll steadily against yours.

“Mine,” Eris huffs against your hair, then your temple, then your neck, the graze of his teeth making you shudder and arch into him. “Mine.”

Yours,” you gasp, choked cry ripped from you at the sink of his teeth against your skin.

One hand anchors him over you as the other skims over your breasts and down your abdomen to rub tight circles into your swollen clit. The contact makes you keen, and Eris huffs a rough laugh as you clench around him.

“Gonna come already, love?” You offer something that might be words, garbled and incoherent for the way pleasure is overloading your brain. It amuses Eris further as he watches your expression contort, the part of those pretty, kiss-swollen lips of yours as you mewl and moan.

“Two orgasms and still so needy…” He offers a playful click of his tongue. “Insatiable.”

As if he's faring better given that he's opted to simply grind his pelvis against yours now, intent on staving off his own orgasm for as long as he can in order to continue tormenting you with the pleasurable sink of his cock inside you.

“Want you to come in me,” you rasp, a moment of clarity that makes Eris freeze above you for all of ten seconds ㅡ and then he's moving again, groaning as he fucks into you with renewed vigor.

“My pretty mate wants me to fill her up, huh?” He goads, slick fingers pinching at your nipple and tugging until you're crying out. “Want me to fuck you full of my seed? Go ahead and put a baby in you so everyone knows who you belong to?”

You don't get to respond because you're cumming hard, clamped hard around him as he manages one, two, three unsteady thrusts before Eris is pushing as deep into you as he can and groaning your name into your neck as he spills into you. The warmth of it makes you almost squeal, arching into him before he's settling over you, sweat slick-skin and a heartbeat to match yours.

The next several moments are silent save for heavy breathing and the soft noise Eris makes as you drift your hand up and down his back.

“Worth the wait?” Eris asks at last, and you pretend to think long enough that Eris pinches at your side in protest. “If you don't answer me, I'll just have to keep outdoing myself until you say otherwise.”

“Is that so bad?” You challenge, and you can feel the twitch of him inside you, the way he's stiffening as his eyes flash.

“No,” he growls, “not at all.”

#ㅡmine.#acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #acotar smut

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thefanficmonster · 3 months

Text

Heavy Metal Lover

PART 2

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smoking, Brief Choking, Mentioned Past Suicides (at the location they're exploring), Suggestive Content, Arguments, Swearing

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Very Slight Smut, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Sam's best friend and Kat's best friend have been tangling antlers since the moment they met. So much for the couple's hopes of setting the two up.

NOTE: Sam and Kat are still together in this fic. This detail is not meant to be disrespectful to Sam's current girlfriend in any way.

"Why do we keep trying?"

Sam's question comes out as an exasperated sigh as he slouches further into the leather couch him and Kat have settled onto. Their rooms aren't ready yet, seeing as how their flight arrived way earlier than their calculations had suggested.

The hotel lobby is busy. The noise on any other day would be too much for the two to ignore and tune out but right now it's much more alike white noise. Jet-lag has really done them in this time. They'd been running away from it for long enough - hopping from plane to plane filming Hell Week is the same every year. But alas, by the fourth location they'd always shut down as has been the case since they stepped foot out of the plane and into the Las Vegas airport.

The only reason they're staying awake is so they don't get robbed blind. Well, that and to make sure the other two people on this trip don't murder one another.

"Because I still believe there's something there."

Y/N and Colby had successfully made it through the whole boarding process and flight without a single fight. Hell, Sam can't even recall them exchanging a single word until they arrived at the hotel. Maybe that's why it took them less than thirty seconds to break out in their usual bitter back-and-forth in the middle of the lobby. The only reason voices remained leveled was because they are indeed in public and they have appearances to upkeep.

The couple managed to subdue the perpetual assholes, convincing them to 'take five' which they thankfully went to take in opposite directions - Y/N headed for the parking lot to grab something she allegedly forgot in their rental car while Colby immediately clocked the patio across the lobby and quickly disappeared out of sight.

Kat watched them both, as if on cue, pluck their packs of cigarettes from their pockets on the way out.

That's what she means when she's trying to convince Sam of that something she sees. She can't explain it without the reasoning sounding like wishful thinking but she knows there is something. Something in the explosiveness in their interactions, the 'hatred' in their glares whenever they are tangling antlers over the smallest inconvenience, the way they look at each other when the other isn't looking.

Y/N and Colby are to Kat what the paranormal is to Sam. She wants to prove it to everyone, but mostly herself. Prove she didn't spend years poking holes in their apprehension for one another and pushing them together when the holy force clearly didn't want her to.

Or maybe that's what has been driving her.

Either way, she's truly grateful Sam is going along with her antics. Whether he believes what she's preaching or sees what she's seeing is up for debate, but at he's still supportive.

He'd never tell her this, but he isn't exactly trusting of the process. He more than anyone would want to see his best friend in a happy and healthy relationship. Does he believe that him and Y/N could have that? No. Not at all. Does he have faith Kat will succeed in her endeavors? Nope. Not even a tad. Even though she's stubborn and dedicated to this cause, he's never met a person more hard-headed than his best friend. Or at least he hadn't until he met Y/N.

You know the whole 'opposites attract' notion? The reason Sam and Kat's experiment subjects won't give the results they're hoping for is because they're too alike. In sync even - as the cigarettes instance that happened less than ten minutes ago would confirm. They're on the same wavelength headed in opposite directions. They're permanently heading for a collision - a fight equal to a ticking time bomb. Sam and Kat have to put out the fire the explosion of said bomb causes but that is a small price to pay to keep the two in each other's proximity.

"I don't know, babe...." Sam's shoulders slump downward, his arm automatically wrapping around Kat when she leans into his side. Hesitant as he may be, he's willing to go along with it. How is it any different from all the times Kat agreed to visit abandoned and haunted places with him. Hell, that's why she's here. She had no problem hopping on a plane to Vegas on such short notice just because she knew how much it'd mean to him. So...what's a little matchmaking in return? "But I believe your romance instincts." Looking down at her, he can't help but smile when he sees her absolutely beaming at him.

"I will not let you down."

She may try her best, but their subjects are two particularly unruly chess pieces.

Y/N, for example, is still out in the parking lot, getting antsier by the second. Anger refuses to let her stand still. Her jaw is still set, hot blood pumping through her veins. So many words she didn't get to spit out due to the public constraint are still stuck in her throat. Colby's words are replaying in her head, their edge causing her to dig her nails into her palms.

She needs to get some air, she just doesn't know where to find it. Maybe at the top of a mountain where she could scream her lungs out in peace. That's not really an option now, though, she she just settles for walking around the hotel, giving herself a couple more minutes before she rejoins Sam and Kat inside.

Eventually, she's made her way around to the side of the hotel that spreads out as an open patio, basking in the all-too-warm sun rays of this fine September day. Last year, the high temperatures were not such a problem while putting up with the fast paced dynamic of Hell Week because they actually filmed it in late October. This year, however, they chose to get it out of the wat sooner because their schedule would be packed all October. Kat's been working on a new album, Y/N has a deal with Crypt TV to make a horror movie and Sam and Colby will be doing Sam and Colby stuff. I don't think there is any other way to sum up what those two are doing.

Not that Y/N really cares what they do. The only reason she's versed into their schedules is because she lives with them. Yes, that is correct - much to her dismay, she found herself forced to live with the guys and Kat after an unexpected and unwarranted eviction from her apartment.

She exhausted all possible options long before caving and accepting Kat's offer to move in with the three. She was welcomed into the house with three different reactions: her best friend squealing with excitement; Sam offering her a warm welcome and helping hand in moving her stuff to her room; and last, and certainly least, was Colby who gave her nothing more than a 'hello' in passing.

None of them can really recall when this endless butting of heads started or how or why. Sam and Kat would equate their attempts at getting the two to get along to pushing same charges toward one another - the harder you push, the harder they push apart.

It's truly baffling where Kat found even an ounce of romance between the two.

Y/N wipes a few droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she climbs the few stairs to reach the bar out on the patio, hoping to gulp down a glass of water after the cigarette she tossed a few minutes ago coupled with the intense heat.

"Hello there." The bartender greets her with a smile, his gaze trailing over her with zero subtlety. "What can I get ya?"

She chooses to ignore it, "Hi. Just a glass of water, please."

The man chuckles, reaching for a tall glass "You know, it's Happy Hour somewhere."

Despite his attempts at flirting - which Y/N is aware is part of his job - she finds herself letting out a small laugh, "Yeah well, not here. And not for me." She gratefully accepts the glass of ice cold water with a nod.

Before the guy can reply, a third voice butts into the conversation, "Yeah, definitely not for her. She's a raging alcoholic."

Stunned, Y/N turns to see a pair of electric blue eyes piercing her with a blank look that contradicts his extremely fake smile he's pinned on his face out of nothing more than politeness.

For a moment, due to their glaring match, they completely forget about the man they've roped into their mess. Thankfully, he speaks up, reminding them of his presence before he could witness any potential brawl, "Oh, um, I'm sorry to hear that."

Momentarily, Y/N drops the torch, tearing her gaze from Colby to acknowledge the bartender directly, "Yeah, no big deal."

Her teeth grit together in absolute rage when she hears the asshole beside her snort something alike a laugh, "Tragic, really. Can I get a vodka cran?"

Y/N busies her hand with holding the glass so she doesn't give into the idea of punching him, "Someone clearly follows that Happy Hour rule."

"I'll have you know..." Colby turns his whole body to face her now, as if challenging her, "...it's not for me." The tilt of his head directs her gaze to an attractive brunette sitting alone at a table, scrolling through her phone.

"Lovely." She spits the word like poison on her tongue, "I'll go tell her to blink twice if she needs help."

"You need help." The lack of bite to his statement stuns her more than if he were to yell it at her. It's an effective throw-off considering she doesn't immediately jump back or smack his hand away when he reaches for the pocket of her shorts, swiping her lighter, "Mine's out of juice." He explains, sticking it in his back pocket before turning to the bartender once more, handing him a ten dollar bill, "And lemon iced tea for my friend here, she's looking a little parched."

With that and a brisk nod in Y/N's direction, Colby excuses himself from the interaction and heads back to the model of a woman who's quick to flash him a bright smile when she notices him approaching.

A sickening feeling settles in her gut. She can't believe any woman gets wound around his finger so easily. She might be biased but she just simply doesn't see it. She can't understand what gets girls within a five mile radius of him swooning.

That smile so many deem charming she finds cynical and fake. His eyes, although a pretty color, are hollow apart from the twinge of evil she sees every time they glare at her. His flirty, charismatic words could make her puke if exposed to them for an extended period of time. In short, she finds him repulsive.

Had they gotten off on a better foot maybe she would've even ended up in his bed on a few occasions by now. As they stand now, she'd rather sleep with Satan himself.

Still, she takes the iced tea, mostly out of curtesy but also because she is indeed dehydrated. She spares the table Colby has now taken a seat at a brisk glance just to find her eyes met with a pair of piercing blue ones once more.

She could strangle him, theoretically, but she won't. Not with this many witnesses around. Instead, she heads inside, looking for Sam and Kat in hopes of getting the last fifteen minutes out of her head.

* * * *

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby! And today we'll be investigating the Oasis Motel in Las Vegas. Known for its dark and unexplainable past and the reputation that precedes it today." Sam explains as they begin filming the intro to their video.

The group is currently standing outside the aforementioned motel. The exterior they were met with upon arrival was enough for Kat and Y/N to exchange a particular look. It's in an area off the strip, the surroundings accentuating the atmosphere and amplifying the creep factor.

"Unfortunately, we won't be able to stay at the hotel. They haven't been renting rooms for close to a decade to avoid any potential casualties. And by that I mean - suicides." Colby says, reciting the notes he both wrote and memorized on the car ride here.

"Yeah, this motel is known for two specific suicides that happened here. Specifically in room 20." Sam adds, listing the sightings that have been allegedly witnessed by staff and guests alike before the motel was shut down for business.

The place now just stands ominously as a haunted attraction of sorts. It's meant to honor the memory of the two people who took their own life there but it's clear they have purposefully added to the fear factor to attract more people like Sam and Colby.

That still doesn't take away from the fact that just looking at the building settles an uneasy feeling in Y/N's gut.

She's always been curious about the paranormal but never went out of her way to seek answers. The only reason she's been joining the gang for paranormal investigations is because Kat often begs her to. And she's always had a hard time turning down her best friend, about anything.

So, here she is, sighing as she follows Sam and Kat inside the barely lit lobby of the motel where the staff member who's gonna be giving them a tour is waiting for them.

Before she can fully cross over the doorstep, she feels a finger trail over her arm, running over the very prominent goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.

"Aww, is someone scared?" The mockery in Colby's voice drains any sort of fear or uncertainty she was feeling before.

She whirls around to face him, nostrils flaring when she sees his coy smirk, "Get your fucking hands off me before I knock you the fuck out." She snarls between clenched teeth.

His smile only widens, becoming a tad more genuine now, "That's more like it. Don't be a pussy."

She's about to retaliate with a string of insults that's make a sailor blush when Sam, thankfully, interrupts her, "Guys! Come on!"

The fucker was saved by divine intervention this once, but Sam won't always be there to shield him from Y/N's wrath - he's very aware of that. Time and time again they've screamed their lungs out at one another just to storm off to fill them with nicotine for a potential round two.

In a way, that is a love language too, right? Well, if you ask Kat, that is. Though she isn't completely wrong. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. And these two are most definitely not indifferent to one another.

Speaking of Kat, she doesn't fail to sneak a peek at the hostile interaction between the two. She nudged Sam's ribs to point it out and smacked his arm when he put a stop to it. Although that was the best course of action to prevent Colby losing any teeth tonight, curtesy of Y/N's fist.

Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration.

She may have spit a million threats his way over the many year they've known each other, but never once did she go through with them.

"Hi, guys. I'm Scott, and it's an honor to be welcoming y'all to the Oasis." The man, who they now know as Scott, introduces himself as he turns on an old tall lamp by what used to be the front desk of the motel. "I hope you're ready to capture some great footage tonight. We're giving you a time frame till 2 AM which is an exception we rarely make, but this one over here is a smooth talker." He says, smiling slyly over at Colby who was the one that placed the call to the motel before they added the place to their itenirary.

Colby, in turn, shrugs, a grin plastering itself on his face, "I mean..." He chuckles, causing Y/N to roll her eyes, "No, jokes aside, I can't thank you enough for bending the rules for us."

It baffles her how charming he can be. She can't help but wonder at times why she wasn't deemed worthy of this pleasant side of him. Not that she hasn't grown somewhat fond of their dysfunctional dynamic - not that she'd ever admit it - but she still wishes she knew.

And she hates it.

Instead of dwelling on it, she busies herself with the fear that's still lingering on the backburner. She'd much rather be scared of whatever's waiting for them in this motel than what she might find if she keeps digging in her mind.

* * * *

"What is your fucking problem?!"

The tension has been building all night, both between Y/N and Colby and from the paranormal aspect of it all.

Glares thrown in from across the room. Light, supposedly accidental touches, some even meant to startle her. Lingering behind her or always looming close to her, reminiscent of her literal shadow.

He's rarely so bold with his proximity to her. He respects her personal space and tends to keep himself at an arm's length regardless of the place they're in. But for some reason, not quite clear to him yet, he's been keeping himself close to her the whole night. Either it's from a certain need to protect her or an inherent need to annoy her into continuously acknowledging his presence, he can't tell.

But by now it's reached a boiling point.

What pushed the situation past Y/N's tolerance threshold was getting scared out of her skin by Colby who, by design of the challenge, wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her. They were less than five minutes into their solo investigations - Sam, ever the challenger, took room 20; Kat is in the restaurant, Y/N is in room 33 and Colby was supposed to take on the attic.

However, he didn't quite last long.

At the first sound of mild panic coming from room 33, which is directly underneath the attic, Colby immediately took off down the stairs, nearly taking the door off its hinges and scaring the ever-loving daylight out of Y/N.

That is what provoked this reaction from her. And now that we're up to speed...

"I thought you were in danger." He explains, quietly shutting the door behind him as he approaches the bed where she's sat.

"Jesus, Colby, you gave me a heart attack!" She groans, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration, suddenly antsy in her seat, "I'm not new to this shit! I've been doing this for years with you guys! I get that you may not see me but that doesn't mean I'm not there!" Her heart is still racing, her breathing shallow. Her chest is heaving despite the hand she's placed overtop it in an inefficient attempt at calming herself down.

A few steps closer on his part make her even more uneasy. She gets up to her feet to level the ground between them somewhat. There is something so vulnerable in sitting down with him standing over her. Dare I say, intimate.

"I see you." He says almost bitterly, "Oh, I fucking see you, Y/N. You're always there, always in my viewpoint. Always just a step out of arm's reach. And I hate it. Or try to. You piss me off so bad I can't even put it into words without sounding fucking insane!"

He's close, too fucking close. The chain hanging from his jeans brushes against the exposed skin of her thigh, sending chills all over her body. It makes her wish her shorts were longer. Makes her wish she could push him away, keep her guard up, keep up her mean front.

But when fingers tangle in her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, she knows it's too late for any of that.

Their lips are barely an inch apart, the two practically sharing the same breath. Still, her pettiness dies screaming with one last whispered, "Fuck you."

With that, all barriers, both physical and metaphorical, come crashing down as their lips collide with the force of seven years worth of tension. Seven years of denial masked as aggression and annoyance. Every word spat out in anger, every glare, every passing touch, every 'flirty' moment. It's all condensed into a hostile collision of lips, biting teeth and battling tongues.

Y/N's hands intertwine at the back of his neck while his travel down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Their connection is airtight, the heat between their bodies increasing the need to pull back to breathe, though that's the last thing they wanna do. It's been far too long for it to end this soon.

Her legs threaten to give out. It's all too much too fast and too unbelievable. Thankfully, Colby seems to feel the same.

He softly pushes her down on the bed, smiling in the kiss at the zero complaints he receives in response.

"You're so sweet when you wanna be." He pulls back for just a second, his hand cupping her chin.

She's quick to smack it away. He expected nothing else. "Shut the fuck up."

He chuckles almost darkly as his hand now settles around her throat, "Adorable." He's aware he's pushing his luck, but then again it's always a gamble with her. This time, he might just luck out.

Their lips have no time to reconnect though, much to their dismay.

"Colby! Y/N! Where are you guys?!"

Sam's voice reaches them from the lobby downstairs, forcing them apart instantly. A deer in headlights look flashes across both their faces as they hurry to create as much distance between them as possible.

Colby swears he sees any hope he had sink right before his eyes. He watches the realization of what just happened dawn on Y/N. Now that the heat of the moment has evaporated, it becomes all too real and all too clear to her what a mistake that was.

"Guys?!" This time it's Kat's voice bouncing off the walls, coupled with the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

He's panicking, not really sure as to exactly why. Whether it's because he'll have to explain this predicament to his friends or because he can see Y/N starting to regret said predicament in real time, he's not sure. Either way, he needs to come up with something, fast. If his brain can kick back into gear after his whole world was briefly thrown off its axis.

"Go." It comes out as a whisper but it bounces around in his head like an earthquake.

"What?" His tone mimics hers, afraid that a single note higher would ruin what little tranquility they've managed to maintain while there's full-on storms raging in their minds.

Her eyes are trained on the floor, hollow with a thousand yard stare. She can't look at him, unsure as to why. She just knows she can't. "Go. Get out. This never happened." When she finally wills herself to meet his eyes she can feel the burning of tears at the back of her throat, "Forget this ever happened."

Footsteps grow closer but they still have leeway to get away with it with just a white lie.

"Go. Now!" She repeats, a bit more fervor in her words now. She gives him no room to reply as she ushers him away but he isn't capable of stringing words together right now anyway.

So, he obliges, going against all his instincts telling him the opposite. And he does so on time as well, shutting the door behind him just as a tear rolls down Y/N's cheek.

What a fucking mistake, they once again sync up, sharing the same exact thought. Though they silently agreed to forget everything that just happened, they're both well aware it won't leave their brain for the foreseeable future.

If ever.

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chosai · 15 days

Text

ROUGH DAY AT WORK ? LET ME HELP YOU ! — ZAYNE (黎深)

warning: this drabble contains smut (18+ content). minors do not interact!

your husband, zayne, isn't the most vocal when it comes to his emotions – if you don't, thoroughly, read him between the lines, it definitely would be a struggle for anyone since this man would not budge, keeping his mouth shut. undoubtedly, you worry for him; he works long hours – nearly sixty hours per week, nights and days, yet he refuses to catch a break. one thing's for certain, he's quite the stubborn workaholic.

you're busy cooking dinner; your nimble hands working on the meat and vegetables while you hum your favourite tune. you glance at the time on the microwave behind you, and you immediately quicken the pace on your chopping. in twenty minutes or so, you expect the front door to open; revealing your beloved husband outside the door – the next course of action being you spoiling him with food. after all, upon returning from a long shift at work, it's important to eat a filling meal.

"he's going to love this," you hum to yourself, sautéing the meat and vegetables together in the pan in contentment. the rice is finished cooking, and the main dish is nearly ready. your stomach is grumbling like crazy at the delicious scent. for the first time in a long time, you feel proud at yourself for cooking such an appetizing dish. you take a small lick from the spoon, and you close your eyes shut and squealed. best bet for the next couple of weeks, you'll be cooking this for dinner.

the door opens suddenly, and steps in your husband clad in his usual dress shirt paired with his trousers. you take a peek from the kitchen, and you excitement took over you.

“welcome home, honey!” you greet zayne warmly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. once you pull away, you manage to fully inspect your husband’s face; there’s fatigue evident in his hazel eyes and from the way his lips are pressed in a straight line, he doesn’t look too pleased. you rest your hand against his broad chest, leaning closer to him.

“what’s the matter my love? you look tired and upset.” you question him, caressing your hand against his cheek. “i also finished making dinner, we can talk more while we eat dinner if you want!”

before you’re able to pull away, his strong hands stop you; gripping at your waist as he pulls you closer. his thumb rubbing light circles against the thin fabric of your shirt; his face nuzzling into the comfort of your neck.

“i want to stay close to you like this,” he breathes, his voice slightly muffled. you rest your head against his chest.

“work’s been rougher than usual,” he then adds, and he breathes in your scent. “ah, but just touching you makes me feel better.”

“you’re so cute, zayne.” you coo, before leaning in closer to his face. you press a soft peck against his lips, giggling softly. however, you’re caught off guard when he leans in for a second kiss — this time, though, is plenty more heated; while his one hand rested on your hips, his other hand rests on the back of your head to pull you closer. soft, muffled moans fall past your lips, your legs trembling as your arousal steadily grows. a thin string of saliva connects both your lips as you pull away; soft pants leaves your lips as you stare at each other in arduous desperation.

“z-zayne,” you mutter his name bashfully, completely dazed from his overhasty movements. it isn’t as if you minded, though. through your heavy lidded gaze, you can also make out the delectable sight of your husband sharing the same need as you; his mouth slightly agape, his ears slightly flushed a bright incarnadine, and his bedroom eyes — dinner will have to wait. in this moment, you yearn to spoil him by other means.

through heavy and heated kisses, you both find yourselves on the comfort of the sofa; your hips straddling his lap as your lips immediately finds his neck, trailing a line of kisses down the soft skin. his large hands finds its way to your ass, giving the plush a tight squeeze as he grinds you against his aching erection. you moan against his neck, feeling your body twitch beneath his grasp.

aroused is truly an understatement.

“h-honey,” you say in between shaky breaths, “i wanna spoil you today.”

zayne’s hands then travel up your shirt, removing the soft fabric with ease; the cool air immediately hits your skin, and you shiver slightly. your husband licks his lips, savouring the sight of your pretty breasts before him.

without passing another second, your husband latches his mouth onto your soft mound. “you already are, my love.” says your husband, his voice muffled as he twirls his tongue against the hardened bud.

your body shrivels underneath his touch, yearning to get closer to him. soft moans of his name falls from your lips as your hands travel down to his trousers, unbuckling his exorbitant belt and quickly unzipping his trousers which then reveals his grey boxers with a moist spot at the tip.

fuck, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight. just how long has it been since you last had a taste of his dick? with gentle fingers threading through your husband’s raven locks, you pull him away from your breasts — and you squeeze your legs even tightly; he looks so drunk in your touch, his gaze clouded in desire. before zayne can process anything further, he immediately finds you perched in between his legs; your hands going straight in for the hem of his trousers and boxers, attempting to pull them down in one go as if you’re famished.

his erect girth springs out of his boxers and nearly smacks your face. you smile, tracing a finger along his twitching length. enamored, you lick a strip along his cock — not breaking eye contact with your now flustered husband.

“you had a rough day at work, no?” with languid strokes, you ask the question with feigned innocence, leaning your head against his herculean thighs. “let me help you~”

that being said, you take him all the way in your mouth; relishing the way zayne’s breath hitched out a moan as you ignore the tiny tears that threaten to roll down your flushed cheeks. his hand that rests atop your hand trembles, his fingers softly digging into your scalp as he thrusts his hips higher — urging you to take him deeper. you bite back a gag as you try your damnedest to breathe through your nose.

“hah, fuck.” your husband hisses through his teeth, throwing his head back as a hoarse groan falls from his lip, and you moan softly in response albeit his girthy cock is still inches down your throat. “you’re taking me so good, m’love.”

you hum in response through your blurred gaze, your cheeks coated in tears as you continue to please him; one hand resting at his hips, while the other trails south, the tip of your fingers circling around your swollen clit. you can’t help it. given how alluring your husband can be, it is nearly impossible to not pounce on him. your subtle self-pleasure doesn’t go unnoticed by zayne, however.

his hands find stability in your scalp once again, and he holds on to it tight before he begins to thrust into your mouth frantically. the sleek noises of your mouth making love to his dick resonates athwart the living room, paired with some occasional choking from the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat — but zayne loves every single noise that leaves your mouth, even more the lewd expressions plastered across your face as you’re eager to please him.

“fuck, y/n. your mouth feels so fucking good around me. you’re such a good girl for spoiling me — hah. you’re going to make me cum soon.” a string of breathy praises leaves his lips, the pace of his hips thrusting relentlessly begins to stagger the closer he gets to his release.

you pull back slightly and suck on his tip, circling your tongue around the little hole. you stare at your husband, your eyes blown back in lust. from zayne’s point of view, you’re practically staring at him with hearts formed in your eyes. his eye twitches and a hoarse groan slips past his lips, his hands gripping onto your scalp firmly yet softly as he spurts his seed into your mouth.

as you draw back from his cock, you open your mouth — revealing the large amounts of his cum resting on your tongue before swallowing it all. zayne caresses your face gently with his long fingers, giving you praises for taking him so well with your mouth.

“did… did that help?” you ask him cutely, your shoulders rising and dropping as you attempt to catch your breath.

“yes,” zayne says, his hands slowly snaking around your hips. “however…”

a sharp gasp rips from your throat as your husband effortlessly positioned you onto the couch, your ass now facing his hardened cock. you stare back at the erect girth in shock — a minute hasn’t even passed and he’s already..? all thoughts that linger in your head dissipates the moment you feel his long and thick fingers tracing along the lines of your drenched folds; such minimal movements of his index finger elicits the lewdest noises coming from your heat. he savours the sight of you; your flushed face looking back at him as your ass is high up in the air for him to see the arousal drooling from your cunt.

“my wife is so so beautiful,” zayne comments sweetly before sticking two fingers inside, your slick walls immediately welcoming his digits in a tight embrace. you arch your back, raising your ass higher as you beg for more friction. you can never grow tired of the feeling of being filled. he pulls his fingers out and licks your love juices.

“i hope you don’t mind, but i’m still not done with you spoiling me.” says zayne, pressing a kiss on the back of your head as he aligns the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance. “you can still take me. right, honey?”

you nod your head frantically, trying to push your hips back to meet his. “mmm, fuck. please, baby. i wan’ you to fuck me so bad—”

a loud moan rips from your throat when his cock slides easily inside your folds, the tip already kissing your cervix. you arch your back and curl your toes, and your face is stuffed into the soft cushions of the couch — completely submitting into being used as a cock sleeve for your husband, who in turn, is fucking into your hole like a madman. he stuffs his face into the nape of your neck, his breaths heavy as he ruts his hips into yours.

“ah! mmm — shit, you’re fucking me so good.” you mewl a praise, though your voice is muffled from the pillow you stuffed your face in as he only fucks you with a newfound vigour; his nails digging into your hips, his groans vibrating against your skin merely adds more fuel to the fire — your release slowly reaching its peak.

the more he fucks into you, the more your body trembles beneath his touch. with each thrust he made, a moan rips from your throat as he makes it his sole mission to get you to come hard. especially in a position such as this, each thrust of his hips lands a hit on your sweet spot; your walls squeezing tightly onto his girth as he did.

he grabs both your hands and holds them behind your back with his one hand, raising your body higher from the cushions.

“don’t hide your moans from me,” he demands, thrusting his hips into yours deeply. you cry out in response, your body twitching against his as you’re nearing your orgasm.

“i-i’m coming,” you announce, your voice tottering as the pressure in your abdomen erupts and your body trembles. zayne lets out a low moan, closing his eyes tightly to relish the sensations of your walls clamping tightly around him, attempting to milk him dry of his cum.

heavy breaths filled the warm air surrounding your living room; small beads of sweat rolling down your bodies as you both try to catch your breaths.

“thank you, my love. you always treat your husband so well.” zayne says sweetly, peppering kisses all over your face and you giggle softly. though, you’re a little muddled when he starts to get up from the couch; his hand reaching out towards the piles of clothes scattered across the floor. “let’s go shower before we eat dinner.”

you reach out for his hand, and he looks back at you with a questioning look. excitement flickers in your eyes, the thrill overtaking your veins suddenly controls your consciousness. you lay back down on the couch, giving your husband the most seductive look you can muster and spread your lips. his gaze follows your hands, and he gulps softly; his eyes locked onto your swollen and dripping cunt.

“you didn’t cum again,” you say, your voice soft yet there is mischief laced in it. “i don’t mind if we go another round.”

sora's note: 😳

#ੈ✩‧˚sora’s creations #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne x reader smut #zayne lads #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #zayne x reader fluff #i have a pharm exam in two days and u catch me writing smut instead of looking at my NOTES 😭

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aliceattheart · 5 months

Note

Can I request a Yandere Alastor, Vox, and Valentino(separate) please?

Yan! Hazbin Hotel x AFAB reader

Yeah! I totally don't mind at all :]

Sadly at the moment the only character I feel comfortable with writing for is Alastor. I don't know much about Vox and Valentino. I do apologize 😭

I kinda skimmed it for slight spelling mistakes. All in all, I got it done. :D

Yan! Alastor

Alastor is deadly obsessed with your scent. That's what led the Doll maker to you. His little Doll.

Alastor is sickened with existential possessive tranquility. To gaze at your smile only makes him yearn for your touch.

It was only a matter of time before he put his nerves beside and spoke to you. "Well hello there Miss, may I aquire a little bit of your precious time." Kissing the back of your hand. The charmer he appears to be. With a mouth full of sharp teeth and sharp claws. You found it weird that he was so gentle.

You have no one to blame for failing madly in love with his elegant charm and sweet voice. A voice that carried endless symphonies of love and no regrets.

You were content with his lack of Physical affection but none the less you did want to embrace and fall into his lips. He would give in every now and again but you couldn't shake of the somber ravenous guilty of intimacy.

Deciding that you couldn't keep a facade, you wanted to break things off. "Y/n, my Moon in the Red sky. Are you saying you don't want me?" When he put it that way you feel disgusted with yourself. But you can't give in.

"Alastor, my heart yearns for something more. Something you can't give. It's not because you've failed to love me. I'm just greedy and selfish."

The last words that came out of your mouth. Did you really mean it? After that you started to spill like an over flowing sink. Words you've never thought came out. "I was wrong for ever thinking of leaving you. I'll stay with you for all eternity, even if I don't have that. In death I wouldn't want to part from you." You were confused and apparently your mouth wasn't listening to your wants and demands.

Alastor sat facing you with big dark eyes, smiling benevolently at you. Opening his mouth to speak he said. "Y/n, you are my muse I can't just let you run off. No need to think or hide away. Let's keep you as my favorite Doll for all eternity, please?" He formed it as a question but in reality he wasn't giving you a choice.

With a snap of his fingers your body became silent to your pleads for movement. Alastor humming a tune, picked you up. You felt like a sack of potatoes heavy, yet weightless in his arms. Opening a demon circle to his residence. He proceeds to take you to his basement. Strapping you into a chair.

"My Sweet Doll Face. He whispered into your left ear. "This will only hurt for a while. I shall break you and put you back together. For my love for you is true. You shall move to my wishes and mine alone. Your heart shall not want for more." He kissed your lips. And sewn them shut.

For the first time in all your existence you wanted to beg for mercy, to god. Irony isn't, you couldn't speak.

Alice here :D

I this would be my first ever request. I want to make it short. In the future I'll specify the characters I right for. I pray that I'll be able to build the courage and make a Master list.

#alastor x reader #yandere #yancore #hazbin hotel #dead dove do not eat #fanfic

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screamingoverfiction · 7 months

Text

So, This Is Love?

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. House mentioned as Slytherin but not super important. Reader isn't described except as having dimples. 18+ Smut ahead. Minors DNI! Not Edited.

I totally didn't start writing this over the summer and then forget about it in my drafts...totally.

Word Count: 4.25k

---------

"You seriously don't have a date?" Madelyn questioned, raising a brow as she continued curling her blonde hair.

"I don't need one. I'll just pick up some bloke on the sidelines if I want to dance," Y/n said, smoothing her dress and checking herself in the mirror a final time.

Y/n had been looking forward to the masquerade ball for a while, eager to be unknown to all, free from her burdens, and able to dance her heart out without worry.

She was now descending the stairs into the common room, her face concealed by a beautiful masquerade mask. Her lips broke into a wide grin. No one could recognize her.

She practically skipped down the halls, not caring about anything or anyone, happy to be free from her life, even for only a night.

When she arrived at the great hall, her eyes went wide in awe. It was beautiful. Colorful banners hung around every wall, and the floor was converted into a ballroom.

She descended the stairs, still smiling from ear to ear. She was unable to hide her joy. It was like she was a little girl again.

She stepped into the great hall, eyes scanning over the seemingly hundreds of students, and she didn't know any of them. It was exhilarating.

As she looked out the room, her eyes connected with someone else's, a tall boy with beautiful brown eyes and fiery hair wearing a black mask.

She tilted her head with a small smile, and he copied her, the grin on his lips making her heart jump. Y/n raised a brow, and he once again copied her, the silly, childish smile on his lips making her laugh.

She bit back a smirk, glancing around before wading through the crowd, her heart skipping a beat when he made his way toward her as well.

They met in the middle, staring at each other behind masks, neither knowing who the other was.

"Care to dance?" The boy started, offering his hand, a sly smile twitching on his lips. She knew that voice, somehow- somewhere, but she just couldn't place it.

"You sound familiar," Y/n said, placing her hand in his, her heart rate increasing as he positioned his other on her waist, starting to dance.

His smile widened. He twirled Y/n around to the soft orchestral tune of the song, eyes never leaving her. He didn't know a girl this beautiful existed.

"So do you," He spoke, hand returning to her waist, gaze flickering down to her perfect lips before snapping back to her eyes.

"What's your name?" The boy asked between songs, his brown hues staring deep into hers.

"That ruins the fun. Don't you think?" Y/n laughed, flashing him her infamous grin, her dimples shining through.

He swore he knew that smile, those dimples…

"I suppose you're right," The boy replied, smirking, sliding his hand into hers once again as the song started.

They danced for what seemed like hours, song after song, asking each other various questions between the music, wishing the moment would never end. Yet, by the end of the night. Neither had a clue who the other was.

"Attention, students," A booming voice Y/n knew as Dumbledore called out over the room, stopping everyone in their tracks.

The boy and Y/n looked up. Brows furrowed in confusion at the headmaster's words.

"At exactly 11 p.m., your masks will no longer be enchanted. You are free to leave before then if you wish to remain anonymous, or the dance will continue for thirty minutes afterward if you wish to stay," Dumbledore announced, causing gasps to leave almost everyone's lips.

Y/n quickly whirled to see the clock. It read 10:49 p.m. She had ten minutes to leave.

She turned back, meeting the boy's gaze. His eyes were unreadable, his handsome features locked in an expression of indecisiveness.

"I guess we have a decision to make," Y/n said quietly, swallowing thickly and pursing her lips.

They stared at each other silently for a moment, neither having the courage to speak until he finally opened his mouth.

"You can leave if you want," He said, his eyes still curious about who she was, but he wouldn't force it.

Y/n bit her cheek in thought, reminiscing the night, how he made her laugh, his charming and witty personality, and his somehow proper yet clumsy dancing. And it was a plus that he was divinely handsome, even from the little features she could see.

"I don't think I want to," She finally answered, her lips forming into a slight smile.

His eyes visibly lightened, breaking out into a grin; he glanced around before tugging her through the crowd, hand in hand.

He led her outside near the archway into the courtyard, his hand still tightly gripping hers.

"Privacy," He spoke, eyes flickering to her lips, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.

Y/n stepped closer until they were almost chest to chest, her heart beating incredibly fast. Her hands were resting on his shoulders, eyes unable to leave his.

She glanced at the clock behind him: 10:59. It was now or never.

"Kiss me," She whispered quickly, surprising even herself with the desperation in her voice.

He didn't hesitate to lean down, crashing his lips against hers, his hand cupping her cheek as the masks magically disappeared from their faces.

But neither pulled back, too entranced by the kiss to even remember to breathe. It was as if their lives depended on the sweet taste of the other's lips.

The boy leaned further into her, his hand on her hips, drawing her in. Y/n parted her lips, welcoming him with equal passion, her hand traveling from his shoulder to the back of his neck, lacing her fingers in his soft hair.

After what felt like hours of kissing, they slowly pulled away, equally terrified of what was to come.

Y/n couldn't open her eyes. Their foreheads rested against each other while they waited for their courage to brew.

He was the first to step back, and then Y/n opened her eyes, finally locking onto his beautiful- beautiful face.

Her jaw went slack, her expression paling as she stared at his equally mortified face.

Frederick Weasley.

The infamous prankster of Gryffindor, along with his twin. Notorious for picking on Slytherins, Y/n included- not that it wasn't reciprocated, but still.

Fred Weasley.

"You've got to be fucking with me," Y/n said, stumbling back, an expression of horror taking over her features.

She ran her hands along her face and through her hair, eyes wide while she tried to process exactly what was happening.

Fred could only stand there, shocked, his mouth unable to form a coherent sentence. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.

“Anyone but you!" Y/n said again with a groan covering her face and glancing back, making sure that she wasn't hallucinating.

"I should've known from the dimples," Fred finally said with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, swallowing thickly.

"You get that if anyone finds out about this, we're dead," Y/n hissed, pointing a malicious finger in his direction.

Fred rolled his eyes, clenching his jaw and leaning against the nearby pillar, an expression of deep thought on his face. His freckles seemed to shine in the moonlight.

"Don't say fucking a word," She spoke sternly, not looking back as she walked away.

"You know, for a second, I thought... Fred sighed, shaking his head, his posture tense.

Y/n froze in her tracks, her eyes softening slightly before returning to a scowl. She turned around, their eyes connected, and she couldn’t keep the mask up any longer.

"In another world, Weasley," Y/n said quietly, but he heard. She could tell by the way his features softened.

He huffed a sour laugh, rubbing his jaw and then running that same hand through his messy red hair, flashing her a quick smile. His brown eyes were lighter now, a twinge of that mischief she knew him for.

"See you around, Y/n," Fred called back, lowering his head and walking in the other direction.

Y/n rolled her eyes, biting back her smile as she walked down the corridor, back to the Slytherin common room, and away from Fred.

Or so she thought.

Before she'd even reached the portrait door entrance, he was sprinting down the hallway, but Y/n didn't hear his rapidly approaching footsteps until he was directly next to her.

She turned her head as he slowed to a stop, cheeks tinted red from running, breathing heavily. His eyes bore an unreadable emotion.

"What are you-?" She started to ask, but his lips were on hers before she could finish, his hands on either side of her face.

The kiss was short and plain, simply testing the waters. He pulled back, swallowing thickly and searching her eyes for any sign of anger, ready to take a slap if needed.

Y/n blinked once, scoffing slightly.

"You're an idiot," She breathed, shaking her head, grabbing him by the collar, and yanking him down until their lips connected.

Fred kissed her back almost immediately, one hand cupping her cheek and the other resting on her hip.

Y/n knew it was wrong, knew that she was putting them both in danger, but oh, how she felt so warm in his embrace.

Her mind was screaming for her to pull away and slap him across the face, but her heart, her body-her soul wouldn't let her.

Y/n always thought there was no room for anyone in her heart except herself, but he was slowly changing her mind, cracking open the stone casing of her soul and weaseling his way inside without lifting a pinky. Many suitors had tried and failed to break down her walls for years, and he'd done it in three hours.

Gathering her thoughts, she pulled away, wide-eyed and dazed. Her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath she took.

Fred stared into her eyes with a soft, warm sincerity she'd only seen in movies and read about in fictitious novels, and now it was real. She wasn’t thinking coherently anymore. She wanted him, and he wanted her.

Why couldn’t they have each other?

They were practically running through the Slytherin common room, trying and failing to shield Fred’s identity from the other students.

“I’m pretty sure at least three first years saw us,” Fred whispered to her as they reached the top of the steps.

“Fuck. I’ll just scare them into not snitching,” Y/n sighed, peering down the hall before unlocking her dorm.

Fred laughed at her mumbles, smiling wickedly as she pulled him inside the dorm with her by his tie.

Their lips met before the door was even shut. Fred had to quickly push it shut before deepening the kiss.

His hands were on her hips, inviting her into his arms, which she eagerly accepted. Fred spun them around, pressing her back to the door.

Y/n couldn’t suppress the small, almost whimper-like gasp that escaped her lips when his lips trailed down her jaw.

Fred smirked against her skin, softly kissing and biting her exposed throat, leaving hickeys and open-mouthed kisses wherever he could.

Her breaths were more so moans and pants at this point. Her eyes closed to bask in the pleasure of his lips.

He skillfully lowered to his knees, propping her legs over his shoulders, her dress bunched to almost her waist.

Their eyes met again. Hers looked down at him through hazy lust and his piercing into hers with burning desire.

“May I?” Fred asked, gently tracing circles and kissing her inner thighs, waiting for her permission.

Y/n quickly nodded, the yearning heat in her core already pooling wetness in her panties.

“I need words, angel. Please,” He said again. Those warm pools of brown were entirely focused. Not a single thought behind them wasn’t about her.

Y/n closed her eyes, knocking her head back and swallowing thickly before slipping her eyes to his again.

“Yes, Fred, please,” She whispered, choking down her pride and letting herself fall apart for him.

Fred smirked, lowering himself further down and cupping her heat. The sudden jolt of her body and the gasp she emitted made his cock strain against his trousers.

The apex of his palm pressed into her clothed clit, making her bite back moans. His lips attacked her inner thighs, marking hickeys, and then kissing them better.

“So wet, and I haven’t even touched you,” He murmured into the soft flesh of her thighs. Oh, how he could die a happy man between her legs.

Y/n hand flew to his hair, lacing her fingers in the red strands as his lips made their way to the place she wanted them most.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling them down in an almost teasing manner.

Y/n clenched her jaw, glaring down at Fred as he smirked back, his grin widening at her disdain.

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask nicely,” He spoke, quirking a brow and rolling his tongue along his cheek to hide his enjoyment.

Y/n huffed, shaking her head and shoving her shame into a deep dark corner.

“Do something…please,” She replied in an almost whisper.

“What was that? Speak up, love,” Fred said, even though he’d heard her every word.

“Oh fuck off you-” She started, but he cut her off with his tongue, slipping it inside her aching slit.

Y/n let out a loud, gasping moan, knocking her head against the door and arching herself further into Fred.

“Shh. I thought you didn’t want the others hearing us?” Fred cooed, a hint of mischief lacing his tone.

His tongue worked against her clit, flicking over the sensitive little bud while he slipped a finger inside her entrance, adding a second once after a few moments, curling them up against her g-spot.

“Fuck you,” Y/n breathed, her mouth hanging open as his tongue and fingers worked magic between her legs.

Fred smiled into her cunt, hitting the perfect places with each stroke and thrust, tongue lapping up the juices of her arousal as they leaked from her needy cunt. One of her hands was in his hair, the other covering her mouth to muffle the erotic sounds threatening to spill from her lips.

Suddenly, the knob beside her hip began to turn, making her quickly uncover her mouth and stop whoever it was from coming inside.

Fred quickly shot up at the noise, his eyes going wide.

“What the hell-? Y/n, are you in there?” Madelyn called from the other side of the door, jiggling the knob again.

“Uh, yeah, but I’m uh-” Y/n tried to think of an excuse, but nothing came to mind. She looked down at Fred for help, but his lips simply turned into an evil smirk. Pressing a finger to his lips before continuing to eat her out, flattening his tongue and running it up her slit to her clit before closing his lips around the nub and sucking.

Y/n gasped out, clasping a hand over her mouth before uncovering it to hold the door again.

“Hold on. Are you getting fuck-”

“Madelyn, I think you should find someplace else to sleep!” Y/n shouted, cutting Madelyn off.

Y/n heard a snort from the other side, along with a mumble of something incoherent.

“Enjoy your night, Y/n. Don’t get pregnant,” Madelyn snickered, walking down the hall without another word.

“You are a complete and utter imbecile-” Y/n hissed at Fred, moaning out in pleasure as his fingers hit her g-spot, her gummy walls clenching around his lanky digits as she neared her orgasm.

The knot in her core was tightening faster than she could comprehend. It was burning and coiling- seconds away from breaking.

“Freddie-” She whimpered his name, her fingers tightly gripping his hair, making him smile against her cunt, his brown eyes staring up at her with mischief and lust.

The knot in her stomach snapped. Her legs tried to close around his head as her back arched against the door. The waves of pleasure coursing through her veins enough to make her eyes roll into her head.

Fred forced her legs apart, letting her ride out her high, his tongue lazily stroking her clit as her thighs shook with pleasure, chin dripping with her juices.

Y/n swallowed, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she struggled to regain her breath. One of her hands was still in his hair, loosely grasping it.

She lowered her eyes, looking at him through a hazy lidden gaze. His hair was messy and falling over his forehead, his tie was now loose, hanging half-hazardously around his neck, and his eyes were staring into hers with pure passion and devotion.

“Hi,” Y/n spoke. Her mascara was runny and smudged, and her forehead had a slight shine of sweat, but Fred thought she was beautiful. He was completely and utterly enamored.

Fred laughed, smiling up at her and shaking his head, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiles.

“Hi,” He replied, setting her carefully back onto her legs and rising to his full height, looking down at her once again.

There was silence for a moment, and then Y/n brought her hand to the back of his neck, connecting their lips.

Fred kissed her back, lifting her into his arms again and carrying her to the closest bed.

“Ah- no, this is Madelyn’s,” Y/n quickly said.

Fred rolled his eyes and carried her to the other, setting her down before hovering overtop and kissing her deeply.

Y/n started unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until she could remove it from his body.

Fred threw the shirt, not caring where it ended up. Y/n’s hands ran down his torso, tracing from his broad shoulders to his abs. It was safe to say he was muscular and toned with muscles, but not obnoxiously.

Y/n kissed along his jawline as he unzipped her dress, leaving a hickey directly on his jaw.

“If you get me a detention-” Fred muttered as he started to drag her dress down her shoulders.

“Oh, hush,” Y/n spoke, tenderly kissing the fresh bruise and leaning back to admire her work.

If she were a patient woman, she’d take her time to kiss every freckle dotted across his pale skin, but her mind was clouded with lust. She’d kiss them later.

Y/n finished taking off her dress, not caring where it fell to. Fred was kissing along her throat, one hand snaking around her back, unclipping her bra with concerning skill and tossing it to the side.

“Done this much?” She inquired, smirking when he lifted his gaze to hers.

“I’ve had my fair share of practice,” Fred replied, matching her teasing energy. Reaching forward to her face, he brushed a stray piece of her hair away, smiling softly.

Their eye contact felt intimate, as if it meant more than a night of lust.

“Fred,” Y/n said quietly, her hand reaching up, fingers dancing along his jaw.

“Yeah?” Fred answered. Even if he didn’t know it, he was completely, and utterly hers. It was as if she’d enchanted him.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Y/n whispered, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone. Her pupils dilated, longingly staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes.

Fred swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his mouth opened to speak- but no words left his lips. He couldn’t answer her. There were no words to describe how he felt.

So instead of speaking, he dipped down, connecting their lips again, kissing her with so much force and passion that their teeth clashed together, but neither seemed to care.

Her makeup was a lost cause at this point. Her lipstick was smeared everywhere, across his lips, along his cheek, and down his jawline.

His hands ran along her body, massaging her chest, his mouth leaving hers to start kissing her breasts, tongue flicking over sensitive nipples, teeth nipping softly.

“Oh- Fred-” She mewled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, hand lacing into his hair, small sharp whimpers flying from her lips.

Fred groaned as she reached down to his trousers, her fingers hooking into his belt loops and pulling him even closer.

He skillfully unbuckles his belt with concerning ease, tossing it to the floor and returning his lips to hers.

Y/n pushed her hips up against Fred’s bulge, still covered by his boxers, and he couldn’t help but rasp out a low noise from his throat, almost a moan.

Y/n slid her hands down his toned abdomen, her nails lightly scratching his v-line as she dipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, starting to tug them down impatiently.

Fred lets out a breathy laugh at her impatience and quickly helps her pull his boxers off, freeing his already-hardened cock. The red tip leaking pre-cum.

Y/n’s eyes widen slightly. She expected him to be above average, but not this big- he was at least 8.5 inches in length with a pretty sizable amount of girth as well as a slight curve to the right.

Fred noticed her expression and laughed, taking her chin in his hand and bringing her lips back to his as he hoisted one of her legs up over his shoulder, the head of his cock teasingly rubbing up and down her slit, bumping at the hood of her clit.

Y/n let out a soft whine, biting her lip and pressing her cheek against Fred’s freckled shoulder as she bucks her hips against his dick, practically begging for him to thrust inside.

“Fred, please-” Y/n says breathlessly, her leg hooking around him.

Fred, detecting her neediness, kisses her on the cheek before slowly and gently easing his cock into her wet and aching pussy, but no matter how ready she thought she was the stretch of his size made her tense up.

“Fuck- you’re tight. You gotta relax f’me, sweetheart,” Fred says through gritted teeth, the squeezing of her walls around his cock almost enough to make him burst on the spot.

Y/n lets out a shaky breath, adjusting to his size and letting out a moan as he pushes all the way in, her insides feeling so full as he starts to move.

Fred thrusts in and out of her cunt at a moderate pace, not wanting to hurt her by being too rough. It was her first time taking a cock this large.

The head of his cock nudges against her g-spot just right, causing her to let out a string of whimpers and whines, occasionally bumping against her cervix, which was only slightly painful. His pelvis grinding against her clit in just the right way to stimulate the bud.

“F-Faster-” Y/n says in an exasperated voice, needing Fred to go faster, her second orgasm already building in her stomach, the white-hot feeling causing her to curl her toes

Fred doesn’t hesitate to follow her command, picking up the pace and groaning against her neck as she clenches around his cock, telling him she’s close to finishing, as is he.

“Fuck- Y/n. I don’t think I can last much longer-” Fred manages to say through heavy breaths, sweat rolling down his skin as he grips the sheets until his knuckles go white.

The sound of skin slapping together consumes the room as Fred’s thrusts become more sloppy and desperate as he nears his orgasm, his breathing uneven and rushed.

“Ah- Fred, I’m coming-” Y/n says, her climax building up fast and crashing over her hard, back arching, hips spasming against his as her legs shake. Her eyes seemed to roll into the back of her head as the hot waves of pleasure hit her like lightning.

Fred finishes a few seconds after, barely managing to pull out before he comes, hot ropes of white cum shooting from his cock onto her stomach as he rides out his high.

Fred collapses beside her, both of them breathing heavily as they recover from the previous activity.

Fred is the first to rise, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on before kissing Y/n softly on the forehead. He walks to the bathroom and grabs a towel, wetting it with warm water.

The feeling of a warm damp towel on her stomach jolts Y/n from her little trance, and she looks up at for a moment Fred as he cleans her up before laying back down with a tired sigh.

Fred simply smiles and sighs, biting his cheek as he gets up and starts to root through her closet for a shirt she can wear to bed, finding one with a picture of a Hippogriff on it and then handing it to her so she can slip it on.

Y/n lays in her bed, makeup a disaster and her hair a mess, but Fred thinks she could never be more beautiful.

“Are you staying?” Y/n asks from her bed, finally managing to sit up, drinking the glass of water Fred had fetched for her.

“I can if you want me to,” Fred says, stopping in the middle of gathering his clothes, not expecting her to want him to stay.

Y/n bites her lip and shifts a little on the bed her face flushing slightly as she murmurs. “I want you to,”

----

Hope you all enjoyed it and have a wonderful day!

#fred weasley story #fred weasley fic #fred weasley smut #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin

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leclvrc · 1 year

Text

hot boy summer ♡ pg x reader

summary: pierre spends his summer break learning how to surf. among other things

requested? yes/no

yourusername

liked by ynfan, pierregasly, lakeypeterson and 72.291 others

yourusername model era 💞

view all 2.191 comments

ynfan the way she looks at the camera.... might walk into traffic idk

goldenridemagazine next issues cover girl?

yourusername you know where to find me 😉

peargasly pierre is lurking... watching... not commenting...

vroomvroom might start following surfing after all

lakeypeterson did you end up catching some waves?

yourusername wouldn't you like to know 😁

pierregasly 🔥

liked by yourusername, peargasly

peargasly NVM... HE COMMENTED

yt22 yuki where u at ur ex is wilding!!!!

pierregasly

liked by charles_leclerc, gelaelized, yourusername and 328.291 others

pierregasly stay tuned for a photo dump tomorrow 🔥

view all 4.211 comments

gelaelized crop on the second picture...

liked by pierregasly

charleslechair HE DID SEAN SO DIRTY SJAISJAKKSOA

yukitsunoda0511 where's my invite?

pierregasly lost in the mail 🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername not bad.. tried any surfing yet?

pierregasly with no teacher around? no

yourusername that a subtle hint?

pierregasly maybe

leclerc_ I SEE PIERRE AND Y/N AND I'M SICKENED (JK CONTINUE)

vroomvroom nah not y/n basically saying yes to the same thing she turned lando down over 😭😭😭

peargasly her taste >

liked by yourusername, pierregasly

peargasly SHUT THE FRONT DOOR

vroomvroom she remembers lando shooting his shot then???

pierregasly added to their story

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by gelaelized, pierregasly and 103.291 others

yourusername private lessons 🌊

view all 591 comments

peargasly no way this isn't a callback to lando's comment 💀

liked by yourusername

yt22 place your bets on how many times pierre fell off his board below

smoothoperator like... 3 times

leclerc_ I say 5

yourusername it was 8 times

pierregasly why are you lying

yourusername fine... it was 10 actually but I tried to be nice

pierregasly thanks 😂

peargasly SHUT UPPPPP

pierregasly rating the experience 7/10

yourusername where did I lose points?

pierregasly you were too big of a distraction

yt22 THIS JUST IN PIERRE WAS DISTRACTED BY HOW HOT Y/N WAS

liked by pierregasly

gelaelized cropped out twice in two weeks 😯

hamilten sean is the real victim here 😭

comments on this post have been limited

pierregasly

liked by yourusername, gelaelized, charles_leclerc and 392.201 others

pierregasly summer break dump ft. @.yourusername

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vroomvroom half the dump being y/n fuck off he's so whipped already

yt22 when will it be my turn @ god

leclerc_ HE TAGGED HER. ON MAIN. AND ADDED THREE PICS W HER

yourusername hit me up when you want to be embarrassed on a board again 💞

pierregasly will hold you to that

smoothoperator NAUUUUR 💀 he's so whipped he doesn't even care that she's better

gelaelized c'mon dude

yourusername you've been replaced 😙

peargasly omg new wag alert....

charleslechair girl I'm PRAYING

#f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #**mine #after 84 years she is here

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 10 months

Text

this was for an ask but it became something different from the ask but I still wanted to post it cuz cute (tm)

Rated M (im just being safe)

taglist: @ghostinvenus

The kiss is terrible, you tremble, lips just pressing on his; it's so bad. Astarion has had his share of terrible kisses, inexperienced kisses, and ones that left him out of breath (rarely). Yours easily tells him everything about you, from why your hands try to figure out what to do, to why you try angling your face, and pressing your lips on his. You retreat with heated cheeks, eyes looking everywhere but his face.

"That… Wasn't good, was it?"

He laughed, "If you have to ask, it was bad." It is cute truthfully seeing you sulk followed by throwing your hands in the air, "You are overthinking this." His hand reached and cupped the side of your face, "Look at me." Your eyes can't stay on his face, shy and nervous. "Look." When your red eyes meet his red eyes, "Build up the anticipation," His thumb traces your lips, lightly brushing your bottom lip, "You are in control." When he pushes his thumb ever so lightly past your lips, you don't know why but you welcome it parting your lips and your tongue licking flesh.

His lips form a smirk as you easily get enchanted then lead in as his thumb keeps your mouth open, "Do as I do." Like a spell, spoken and you obey.

This is a kiss.

His hand remains on your face caressing your cheek, the other around your waist supporting you. You are still confused about what to do yet where your mind lacks, your body reacts; instinctively seeking him. Your hands gripping the back of his poet blouse, your body leaning as if sculptured to fit with his, mouth meshing with his and tongue tasting him.

Wine and blood, strange that excites you.

The kiss is still inexperienced but not as terrible as before. His eyes are half shut while yours are completely closed. Seeing the way you struggle to match him, the relief when he welcomes your tongue in his mouth.

Happy. You look happy when the kiss ends.

"So this is why there are so many love poems." The observation blurted out of your mouth, "This is inspiring."

"Oh, should I expect a flowery love song tomorrow evening?" Teasing you as he releases his hold on you, physically leaving your warmth is getting harder to do as these days pass.

"A song? Astarion, you inspire a symposium with only the way you look."

He laughs, that narcissistic laugh which given your words is deserving, "Go on."

"Kissing you or talking." Your hands didn't leave his body, they rested on his waist as if fearing him escaping into the moonlight, swept away by Selunê's glow.

"Either one is quite interesting."

You are on that high of your first kiss with him, "Can I have more?" Lowering your head with eyes looking up at him, "Kisses, I mean."

"So polite," Oh, how he enjoys you discovering the pleasures of the flesh. "Of course." Once more he moves to take charge only to stop as you copy his movements from before, though your fingers tracing the shape of his face then his ear.

A lyrical tone follows your next words, "Hot blood begets hot thoughts," Recalling words from a book your mother gave you, "And hot thoughts beget hot deeds," Your nose brushes against his. "And hot deeds is love." When the kiss happens, you are slow. Methodical.

Astarion makes adjustments along the way even as his mind is on that line you sang to him.

One could say there is nothing behind those words or one could see it as a confession. Well, another confession as you do not hide your heart from him.

When you both end up on the ground under the stars of clear night, he has you singing his name. A siren's charm ensnares him.

It is you who starts greeting him with silly flowery words. With the tune of a lute, violin, or flute at night serenading him over a meal of wine, bread, and cheese. In love, helplessly and innocently.

The only good side of this is that he isn't using the charms to hand you off to Cazador, you are his.

And that slips out.

Vampires cannot love, they are creatures of the night blessed by Kanchelsis to feed on blood and debauchery (as stated in the books from your old master's library).

Yet, he feels its grip! The way you care for him, respect him, seek him as a person and not a tool.

Things he lacked towards you— you are just another sorry spawn who will help him achieve his goal…

Clumsy.

He tries to list what he would change about you, flaws that bother him. And there are many as he makes a mental list while currently watching you from the shadows. You are providing a distraction as he steals something you need for some ridiculous quest.

Too helpful.

Maybe that is good for him when he has you in his service upon his ascension.

Nice.

Definitely too nice for your own good. It makes him want to be nice to you back, God. Even now he had to threaten someone because you froze because someone didn't feed before getting here, saw the way your eyes glowed with the hunger. Probably will kill that patron after he returns to your side with the stolen documents.

Those eyes follow you, studying the body he knows quite well, then to the way the low-cut blouse exposes your neck and from his view the hickey he left from yesterday morning.

"Thank you, Astarion." Breathing slowly to tame the beast. "Guess you were right."

"Trust the one who has been at this for two hundred years, darling." The smile you give is downright blinding. He turns his head away, "Here." The evidence you take and read over.

Nice…

“Hm?” You do not stop him when he kisses you. In this smelly, loud, and dirty tavern; you felt the world fall away with Astarion’s lips on yours, a feeling shared.

#reader insert #fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3

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suzukiblu · 10 months

Text

Lil' excerpt from the self-indulgent DC fic I was working on yesterday for my birthday fun times.

Context: "My Adventures With Superman" meets Superboy.

Clark is talking to Lois and Jimmy in their office at the Planet when he hears it.

It's a heartbeat.

Clark hears those all the time these days. He can hear Lois and Jimmy's right now. Can hear everyone in the whole newsroom's; the whole building's; the whole city's.

And he can hear his own heartbeat, though he's so used to it that he usually tunes it out.

So . . . why is he hearing his own heartbeat, he wonders slowly, trying not to frown. Not sure what about his own heartbeat would make him want to frown, when–

Oh, he realizes.

It's not his heartbeat. It's not even in the building; it's blocks and blocks away.

Why on earth would he have thought a stranger's heartbeat on the other side of the city was his own? That doesn't make–

ta-tum

. . . sense.

Clark blinks, very slowly. The heartbeat carries on, sounding excited and eager and . . .

And . . . and strong.

He isn't sure why he cares so much, that it's strong. That it sounds . . . healthy. It's not like he ever wants to hear a weak heartbeat, after all. A weak heartbeat is never, ever a good thing, except when the alternative is no heartbeat at all.

But this specific heartbeat . . . for some reason, he cares that this specific heartbeat is strong.

Why does he . . .

ta-tum ta-tum

That's not how human heartbeats sound, Clark realizes, slowly. That's not–no, that's not a human heartbeat. Maybe not any kind of heartbeat he's ever heard before at all.

But it sounds so familiar all the same. It sounds . . .

Right.

He doesn't know how else to explain it.

Clark frowns. He glances towards the wall in the direction of the ta-tum heartbeat, letting his glasses slip low on his nose so he can look over them.

Specifically, so he can use his X-ray and telescopic vision over them. There's . . . the heartbeat is twelve blocks away. It's coming from a body on the street, one that's standing in place but not staying still, gesturing expansively and speaking to someone in a . . . food truck? Looks like a food truck, yeah. The heartbeat's owner isn't especially tall or broad, but it looks like all their growth plates are still open, so they're probably not physically mature yet. Judging by their posture and body language, they're likely male. And a teenager, given both their size and those growth plates. Younger to mid-teens, he thinks? Maybe?

Clark tunes in his hearing. The heartbeat's owner gestures at themselves and says, "Look, if this was cosplay, I'd have done a better job, okay? Like, I'd be more accurate!"

They do sound male, yes. Male, and young. And . . .

And a little . . . odd, somehow.

"So what is it, then?" the person in the food truck asks, clearly amused by whatever they're discussing. Female; probably ten or fifteen years older than the heartbeat's owner.

"Would you believe I just didn't have anything else to wear?" he says, sounding sheepish.

"That's a pretty extreme version of laundry day, kid," she says with a laugh. "But I appreciate the assist with those assholes either way. Want some chili fries? On the house."

"What're chili fries?" the heartbeat's owner asks as he leans in a bit, sounding curious.

"Oh, lemme rock your world, kid. One sec."

The food truck operator starts bustling around her truck, presumably in pursuit of chili fries. Clark frowns a little. Well, chili fries are probably fine for a teenager, he figures, even if the kid's really never had them before. Though chili fries do seem weird for a teenager to not have heard of?

Maybe he's an immigrant or a tourist, or home-schooled, or just from a particularly small town. Smallville admittedly is not the ideal place to get chili fries, so Clark assumes that's probably normal in other small towns too and–

"CLARK!" Lois yells, waving both hands in front of his face. Clark startles in surprise, then blinks at her.

"Uh, sorry," he says. "Did you need something?"

#superman #superboy #clark kent #kon el #my adventures with superman #rinfic #wip: weird kryptonian bonding rituals

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vitaminseetarot · 6 months

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PAC Pick a Ride: Your Next Big Adventure 🌌🌠🌃

Thank you for voting in my latest poll! I'm surprised and glad to see that Next Big Adventure won by a landslide! Seeing as we have the New Moon in Sagittarius on the 12th, it makes sense that we are collectively interested in seeing what the next chapter has in store. Please note that some of these other topics mentioned in my polls may appear in future pick a card readings, so stay tuned.

So without further ado, let's get into our piles! Pretend as though you are a Knight from your favorite tarot deck about to embark on your next journey. Please choose your mode of transportation:

1 - Plane 2 - Ship 3 - Motorbike 4 - Train

Pile 1 - Plane

Cards: Re-Evaluate, Pencil Sketch, The Pilgrim, Ceres - Nurture, Patience, 26. Protection - Finding What's Important; I Magician, 10 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, XIX The Sun Channeled Locations: Canada, Singapore, Morocco, Ukraine, Australia, Philippines, UK, New Zealand, NYC, South Korea

Hi pile 1, you've chosen to travel by air, bypassing all the long troublesome routes. After all, the sky's the limit! Isn't it nice to measure your distance by how the crow flies sometimes? You're ready to catapult yourself into the next big adventure; I can tell there's a lot of excitement to see what's ahead here. You'd rather get to the next phase of your life instantly yet with ease. This is likely the pile with big career goals, especially if moving or actual traveling will be in the big picture. Maybe you're dreaming of traveling by plane as part of your future dream job? You don't just want to get there, as great as that is--it has to be done with intention.

You're in the process of drawing out what your next life would look like. The future seems full of creative possibilities, but with Pencil Sketch next to Re-evaluate, you're being asked to pay attention to the details. How do you want things to go one month from now, and one year from now? As great as it would be to have an entire decade mapped out, it's unrealistic, but it doesn't mean you can't draft some concepts. You should have something in mind, though, instead of setting out with a knapsack and praying for the best. If your next career or long term project could be anything you wanted, are you going to hop into something for 10 years that doesn't end up panning out in your favor, or would you rather delicately test something for a year before diving in? Moving forward can be exciting, but if you're going by plane, you will need some coordinates.

I think your reading is super straightforward, pile 1. You've got a lucky edge going for you with the tarot cards here. Whatever kind of career goal you have in mind, you may have a chance to "make it big" at some point. That won't come without a lot of foresight and careful investment, however. Don't try to rush into any big decisions right off the bat. I occasionally see the Magician card as the one signifying "read between the lines". If any contracts get involved, be very careful and read thoroughly. Don't be afraid to ask questions or seek clarification. The ones giving you the contact would rather see you jump in it blind, but you've got the crafty Magician energy to help you out during this retrograde period.

As eager as you are to begin your next journey, you're being asked to consider what you want to grow over the long term. This reading wants to shift the focus away from the end goal, even if there's a message here about acting with intention. Setting intention doesn't mean straying away from the present moment to only consider what happens in the end. Part of paying attention to detail means being aware and present in what's happening around you. The present moment is a crucial aspect of your growth period, and it wants you to gently guard after and care for your goal as though it were a plant. You know the fruit of the plant will be ready to eat when it's there and fully ripened, but in the meantime you can enjoy its flowers and fresh budding leaves.

Enjoy the gentle growth process, because once you do start to take off, you may be shocked by how high you'll find yourself in mere seconds. The initial lift of the plane as it begins to run with the sky can give you a wonky feeling like your whole world is shifting and moving with you. Your sense of time can change, requiring adjustment. If you're unprepared, the change could feel overwhelming. Make sure that by the time you're ready for that big takeoff in your work or projects, you will have built up a solid foundation to ground you once you're ready to come back down to earth. That's how you'll build lasting success in your life's next adventure. Stay optimistic, because that positive shift could come sooner than you think!

Pile 2 - Ship

Cards: Limitless, Calla, The Alchemist, 10. Capricorn - Achieve, Express Love, 11. Invention - Burning with Passion; X Wheel of Fortune, 4 of Wands, VII Chariot, 10 of Swords Channeled Locations: India, Greece, Ethiopia, Thailand, Spain, Iceland, Turkey, Croatia, South Africa

The seas are calling you, pile 2, calmly asking you to take only what's truly needed with you. The water's may be choppy, but out in the expansive blue seas, you can feel connected to the coasts of the entire world. With a firm grasp of the ship's wheel, you designate yourself captain as you adjust your sails and set your sights for the hidden treasure that lies ahead--or perhaps beneath your anchor. You're entering your next big adventure lit up with grand ideas for what to do all laid out on your map. Over the vast horizon, anything could happen, and you could find yourself shaking hands with anybody new. This pile may be seeking proposals or offers of some kind, ones that will let you dream bigger than you have before. This pile likely has a good idea of where to go next, or at least some interesting things written down.

These cards ask you to make peace with some aspect of your past. It could be that whatever you had planned before didn't entirely work out in your favor. As much as the online community talks about how rejection is divine protection, sometimes having plans fall apart is not going to feel good, even when you're just glad it's over with. The worst thing can be the feeling of not knowing what to expect after a fall. But your next chapter is showing a lot of promise in things to come, so don't let your past be the omen of your future. The tides are turning right now, and if you can focus on what you'd like to accomplish next, you'll be able to shift those tides in your favor. The first step is to see that you've survived the bad times, and that in itself makes you a victor. With that, you can move ahead with more confidence than before.

That's the thing about Capricorn energy: it thrives in conditions that others would consider too harsh or demanding. It's the drive to take the roughest materials and make diamonds from them. Once you can decide to make peace with what you've gone through, you can take the nuggets of wisdom you've garnered to make a beautiful new path for yourself. You dissolve the worst of your experiences and bring them together to make it better, as the Alchemist card suggests. The difficult times and failed attempts were not for waste; you've gained a lot of valuable growth that will provide a smoother current toward success in your next endeavor. This could be the pile that wants to start a business. Please know that simply starting a business, or even taking the first steps to plan one, takes a lot of guts already. If you've managed to go that far, congratulations! It takes a lot of hard work for a new business to be survive the long haul. So celebrate your milestones, no matter how small they seem.

Part of what makes this next chapter so fortuitous for you is how the energy is transiting through. You could be hit with a wave of inspiration from out of nowhere. If you've been stuck in one place without any wind to carry you through the fog, be prepared for that big splash! All hiccups set aside, you're still brimming with a lot of zeal for your next idea. You may even receive a cascade of insight, so be sure to write these things down as they come. You never know if something silly and small could end up helping you out later on. Your next big adventure is going to put the spark back in you, with a feeling of having a second chance at life, as Calla lilies represent rebirth. Don't be afraid to get excited over what's to come, pile 2. Your faith that things will work out for the better is contagious, as is your gratitude for the accomplishments you've made so far.

Pile 3 - Motorbike

Cards: Breathe, Snowboard, The Heir (Rx), 5. Leo - Shine, Balance, 21. Resilience - Finding Your Limits; 6 of Cups, Queen of Cups, Page of Wands, XIII Death Channeled Locations: Mexico, Italy, Midwest US, France, Norway, Egypt, Chile, Brazil

Your pile is like the fiery passion of the wands suit. Independent and bold, you chose to take open road for your next adventure, blazing a new path in front of your very eyes. You have an eagerness to take the world by storm, going wherever your first impulse wishes to carry you. This pile has a lot of drive to move forward to the next chapter with as much speed as possible, optimistic to find that next golden opportunity. And you're not afraid of a little showboating along the way. You even have the Snowboard palette card, which is a sport involving nothing but speeding down slopes and catching incredible air. This pile is the most excited for their next adventure.

Except actually, pile 3, you're being asked to slow down a little bit. And I get it! I get that this message can be so frustrating when you see what looks to be an endless highway yet the speed limit says 55. That might be a good pace for many folks, but for this pile it's not nearly enough! The thing to keep in mind is that this process of moderating your pace is for your overall benefit. See, you have the only reversed archetype card in all the piles. The card speaks of untapped potential, which is still there. It's simply saying that whatever you're seeking to do next, you're not totally ready because there is too much you're still carrying with you. To go with the motorbike analogy again, any leftover baggage from your past is going to weigh you down so it's in your benefit to review what you have before you can move forward. The more you let it go, the faster you'll be able to pick up the pace.

You have a lot to be proud of with how far you've come already. This pile likely thrives on challenges and sees overcoming them as a big part of spiritual development. Which can be true in many cases, and you demonstrate clearly that you're not afraid of what's to come next. It may come as a shock to you that your next chapter might be a little more quiet than expected. This is likely because, if you've gone through a lot of growth in your last chapter, it makes sense to have some downtime to balance things out. The Queen of Cups can be introverted energy, but she knows how to use her alone time to replenish her soul with art and meditation. You may have more time to spend by yourself steeped in creative drive rather than trying to accomplish too many things in the outer world.

This is one of the more spiritually oriented piles; over this next big phase in your life, your creative skills may flourish and evolve to another level. Maybe for a while you've been inclined towards artistic pursuits, but feel a desire to expand upon what you're already doing. With this energy, you're in alignment to have more time and energy to devote towards passions like painting, sports, or music. In this way, you can take that immense enthusiastic drive from the Page of Wands and channel it into something constructive or purposeful, even if you don't intend to monetize it.

Your next big adventure is tackling the speed limits that exist within you: the self imposed beliefs that tell you how fast you can go or where you're allowed to proceed. Thing is, in your inner world, you have a lot more freedom than you would on any highway. You can choose for yourself how you wish to manifest your passions into the world, and you can decide how much or how little passion you put into your work. Things like imposter syndrome can be their own mountains to climb, and this time around you're more geared up than ever to take it on. Once the spiritual mountains have been overcome, you'll be able to top anything the next chapter in life brings you.

Pile 4 - Train

Cards: Nucleus, Billiard Green, The Gambler, 44. Sixth House - Sustainability, Trust, 1. Vision - Contemplating the Future; XVIII The Moon, 10 of Wands, 3 Cups, XV The Devil Channeled Locations: West US, Sweden, Japan, Czech Republic, Netherlands, Slovenia, China, Germany, Switzerland

You've picked the solid, earthy pile of moving forward to your next adventure by train. Locomotion is slow but it's steady and reliable with time. Fully embodying the principles of inertia, once it moves it keeps moving, but it takes a lot of initial effort to get things going. Something you've worked on is slow going, but you're close or nearing the finish line. Once this is accomplished, things will move much more smoothly for you without so much push. Your next chapter will be steady, but it will be easier than before because it's already in motion.

I find this pile intriguing, y'all. You have Gambler above the Billiard card, and the Devil card shows a casino as well. It's almost bringing to mind old train heist movies. There's action, adventure, mystery, and a lot of fun here in this pile. Your next big adventure could involve having more chances to go out and have fun with friends. You could meet new friends around this time who will have a lot of extra pep in their step. They'll get you out of your shell if you've been in one for a while. Alternatively, if you see yourself as a party loving daredevil already, this new friendship may slow you down and protect you a little, in a good sense. They'll either be the head to your heart, or the heart to your head.

This pile is definitely more inclined to go with the flow in the next chapter. I almost typed 'glow' on accident, so perhaps you'll also experience basking in a 'glow' of some kind. You could be overcoming a huge obstacle at this time and look forward to more unstructured down time. You're encouraged to take time to enjoy yourself before moving to the next phase, but to also balance it out by taking moments to see where you'd rather go next. It's easy, after a huge achievement, to lose pace once the "now what?" sign is reached on your path. Go-with-the-flow doesn't necessarily mean 'fuck around and see what happens', lol. Try to find a middle ground here between playing and planning.

Your work-life balance will likely have some kind of pressure valve released like steam. You've had to really push for what you wanted this year. When opportunities looked scant, you had to tap in to your own power and immense resources to pull through. You've done so in flying colors. So your desire for freedom and thrills after a hard chapter is totally understandable. If you're not finished with something, there's almost a temptation here to run from it now and deal with it later. This isn't recommended; push through to the end because soon you will find yourself on the other side basking in the glow, and relaxing will be so much easier once you're fully done.

There's also advice to not get too carried away with material desires here. Your next chapter may have your finances fluctuating up and down, so try to stay steady with investments. If a windfall comes in, don't spend it all in a day. The Trust card here is talking about how you trust yourself with your resources and energy. When you're able to carry a greater amount with more responsibility, more will be added to you in due time. You're being asked to make small and consistent investments with wherever you're putting your value and resources into. Nothing wrong with wanting to splurge on something nice of course, especially if you've been working hard and you want to reward yourself. This is more to do with long term investments over the next few years.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

Decks Used: Tarotwave, Starcodes Astro Oracle, Citadel Oracle, StarDragons, Opal Oracle, Starlight Messages, Color Palette cards

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sirenfromthelostcity · 4 months

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Snowed In Part 2 [Modern! Mizu x Reader]

Ngl y’all I was really touched by the amount of ppl asking for the proposal scene lol. I was a little worried that maybe the blurb was like too fluffy but I'm really glad you guys liked it, ya big softies lol (but same). This came out a little longer than i anticipated but i was just adding some stuff to add to your relationship and i reeaaalllyy hope you guys like it <3 Also I think i might do one more lil part just to involve the rest of the crew and their reaction to the news so stay tuned for that as well.

Part 1!

Although your anniversary dinner plans were ruined by the snow, it was impossible to remain upset. After all how could one be upset when they're being comfortably held in the arms of their lover watching one of your favorite shows together?

Admittedly you did suggest your bedroom when Mizu asked if you wanted watch something after dinner but she was rather insistent on making it a living room activity. So there you both were, laid together on a makeshift bed of various pillows and blankets in the middle of your living room floor. The lights were low, Mizu was warm and the snowfall was the perfect romantic backdrop.

"Y'know," you started, "this day did not go how we had planned at all but honestly I can't imagine a better way to spend our anniversary together," you contentedly sighed.

"That makes two of us," Mizu snuggled you closer and planted a kiss on your head. "But the night isn't over yet."

She gently moved to get up from her position and you pouted at her for ending your cuddling session.

"I'm getting up to get your gift," she laughed.

"Oh right! I'll go get yours too." you quickly paused your show as you both retreated for your gifts.

Once both you and Mizu retrieved your gifts you both returned to your makeshift bed and sat across from each other. Mizu decided to go first and handed you a large gift bag. Your eyes widened in both joy and surprise as you pull out a designer bag that you've been trying to acquire for a long time.

"Oh my God, Mizu! This is sold out everywhere how did you get this?"

"I know people," she smugly shrugged her shoulders.

"Akemi?"

"Actually believe it or not... Taigen."

"Taigen?! You worked together with Taigen for my gift?" you eyes widened again. Mizu and Taigen weren't enemies per say but they definitely very easily got on each other's nerves, however it was mostly banter. Mostly.

"Yeah despite him being Taigen, he can be quite useful sometimes and I know how long you've been hunting for this bag."

"Oh honey, thank you. I really appreciate it and I love it," you lean towards her to give her a gentle kiss before putting the purse back in the gift bag and setting it aside.

Excitedly you reached for your gift and handed it to Mizu. It was a smaller bag and the first thing Mizu pulled out from it was her favorite perfume.

"I was just running low on this, thank you babe," Mizu smiled at you but you informed her there was one more gift for her in the bag. She dug back in and pulled out a small rectangular red velvet box. Carefully she opened it and in it was a beautiful gold heart pendant. She was in awe of the craftsmanship. You prompted her to flip it to the back and engraved on the heart read the words "Forever Yours" with your initials right below it.

“You have my heart," you said to her. "Promise to keep it safe?”

“With my life,” she looked back up at you. “Baby I love it thank you so much,” she practically leaped over from her spot to envelope you in a hug.

“I’m glad you like it,” you chuckled into the crook of her neck.

When Mizu broke away she quickly went to put on the necklace but you insisted on aiding her. With one hand she held up her long hair and turned to allow you access to put on the necklace. Once it was on she went to observe it again, as if she couldn’t stop admiring it.

“Can you take me to where you had this made so I can make one for you too?” She asked, still looking at the pendant.

"Really?" you asked, your excitement shinning though.

“Yeah,” she smiled at you. “I have your heart and I want you to have mine.”

Overjoyed at her words, you leaned in and kissed her both softly and ardently.

“I’d really like that too. I can take you next week yeah?”

Mizu nodded and leaned back in to continue the kiss. Passion flowed within you both and the kiss became needier. This time you took the initiative and without breaking the kiss you gently pushed Mizu to lie on her back. Your free hand reached to cradle Mizu's face, effectively deepening the kiss. Mizu almost allowed herself to get lost in it but when she felt the small ring box poke at her hip she was brought back to her objective . Gently, she broke free from the kiss.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, slightly alarmed.

"Yeah I just... have to use the bathroom."

"Oh okay," you rolled onto the side to allow Mizu to get up. "I'll wait for you to come back to continue the show."

"Nah no need. Continue without me I'll be quick," Mizu reached for the remote and pressed play on your show before seemingly heading towards the bathroom connected to your room.

In actuality Mizu just wanted you distracted and not focused on how long she'd be gone. She had all her materials for the proposal packed in two of her gym bags but she wanted it all to look perfect and that could take some time.

After about 15 minutes you started to get a little worried and when you tried to enter your room to access the bathroom you realized your room door is locked.

"Hey babe are you okay?” you knocked at the door.

“Yeah! I’m almost out just looking for something," Mizu tried to sound casual but her tone definitely sounded a little panicked which did nothing to ease your composure.

“Do you need help looking for it?”

“No it’s okay! I’ll be out soon.”

You did have a spare key for your room in case you were ever accidentally locked out of it. The thought did occur to you to go get it but something to just give Mizu a little more time. After about 5 more minutes, she finally comes out of your room.

“Found what you’re looking for?”

Mizu nodded. "I have one more surprise for you," from behind she pulled out a black blindfold and immediately you're intrigued.

"Well if it involves that blindfold then I'm liking it already."

Mizu laughed at your response before extending her hand to help you stand up. Carefully she wrapped the blindfold over your eyes and guided you into your shared room. Immediately you're greeted with warmer temperature and the soft scent of roses. Slowly Mizu removed the blindfold.

Your room was lit with strategically placed candles and littered with red and pink rose petals. Placed purposefully on the bed was a box of your favorite chocolate and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The scene was so intimate and warm. You even caught sight of a small fire extinguisher so you know Mizu really thought this out.

"Oh my god, Mizu this is..." the remainder of your sentence got stuck on your throat when you turned to thank Mizu and saw her propped on one knee holding out a box with a diamond ring.

Immediately your eyes began to tear up, overcome with the realization of what was happening. Instinctively your hand went to cover your mouth but a small overjoyed sob managed to escape from you.

"(Y/N)," Mizu started with glossy eyes as she too struggled to hold back her happy tears. "I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. For a long time I didn't even think this kind of love was actually real, until I met you. I love waking up to you every single day and I've learned to love and appreciate life more since you've allowed me to enter yours. You just make me so fucking happy," she sniffled. "I didn't think it was possible to be as happy and feel as safe with being happy as you've made me feel. Being with you made me feel like I was so easy to love and I want to dedicate the rest of my life ensuring you feel the same way. Will you allow me the greatest honor imaginable, will you marry me?"

"Yes of course I'll marry you!" you cried and wrapped your arms around her in a fervent embrace.

You both cried into each other, so full of love and absolute happiness. You pulled back from the hug and leaned in to share your first kiss as an engaged couple. It was a salty kiss as the tears are still fresh on both of your faces but neither of you cared.

You extended your left hand to Mizu and she happily slid the ring onto your finger.

“Perfect fit,” she smiled.

“It’s so pretty,” you admired the gem, it truly did cater to your taste. “Babe, it’s perfect you made such a good selection.”

“I like to think I know you well enough to pick out a ring you’d like, now I’m glad to know I’m right,” she lightly chuckled as she snaked a hand around your waist and snuggled you closer to her.

“We’re engaged now,” you mumbled as Mizu started planting kisses on your temple, the feeling of euphoria still coursing through you. “You’re my fiancé.”

“And soon you’ll be my wife,” she added, grasping your left hand in hers and tenderly rubbing at your ring finger. “Then we‘ll just have forever together.”

“Forever together,” you whispered as you leaned into the crook of her neck. “I love the sound of that.”

A/N: if the ending looks a lil weird font wise is bc I had to copy from my notes app bc I had previously wrote something and it didn’t save on the draft 🙃. Ngl I’m feeling a bit iffy about this but i really hope you guys enjoyed the read! 💗

Edit: I forgot to say but feel free to change what Mizu gifts you, like if you’re not into designer bags then ofc yeah just substitute what you want. It’s kinda hard to write what gift to get you bc ppl are diff like not everyone is gonna like the same thing 😂

#blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu #modern reader

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