#he's so difficult sometimes! (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loosesodamarble · 2 years

Text

A Shared Bitter Aroma

Summary: Three souls mourn a terrible tragedy. One is haunted by their memories and pain. Another finds themselves lost in tears and makes a final request. And the third finds themself no longer able to breathe.

Genre: angst

Word count: ~7200

A/N: @thoughtfullyrainynightmare helped write portions of the fic.

...........

Josele blinked away to the sight of light streaming into the room through the window. It was an early dawn. Vibrant oranges and pinks, as if straight out of a painting. Truly, a beautiful sight to behold.

But it was also a punishment. The bright light of a cloudless morning was a taunt. A reminder of what Josele once had.

…

Bathed in the light of the rising sun, Josele and Morgen sat together on the squad base’s roof. They were side-by-side, shoulders and thighs touching. Morgen held Josele’s left hand in his right one and had their fingers intertwined. Josele leaned her head on Morgen’s shoulder and he leaned in so his cheek pressed against her crown.

There was a sweet petrichor carried by a breeze in the air. The golden and amber rays of dawn danced off puddles on the ground below.

“The dawn is even prettier after a rainy night, don’t you think?” Josele asked while nuzzling into Morgen’s side.

“It’s gorgeous indeed,” answered Morgen in a dreamy sigh. He turned his head and kissed Josele’s crown before saying, “Just like how your smile is more radiant after seeing you fretting over something.”

Josele squeaked in surprise. “M-Momo, you’re too sweet!”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Morgen laughed and nudged Josele a bit. “And let me share another truth: your smile always has my heart racing. I call you ‘my heart’ for a reason.”

“Ooooh! Morgen!” Giggling, Josele pulled away and covered her burning face with her hands. “Why must you be so—?” She was cut off by her own laughter.

“Because it suits you so well!” Morgen chuckled. He tucked Josele’s hair back and looked her in the eyes. “Don’t you think so?” She could only nod in reply. “Then you shall be ‘my heart’ forevermore.”

“Aw, thank you!” Josele moved her hands to Morgen’s face and pecked his nose. When she pulled away, she and Morgen sheepishly grinned at each other. ��You know, you should have a pet name too.”

“Josie, there’s no need.”

“But I want to!” Josele insisted. “Now…” She closed her eyes in thought. “You’re like a shining prince from a fairy tale. Someone as bright as the sun…” She giggled, feeling Morgen’s face heat up under her hands. “You fill my days with hope…” Josele opened her eyes. Right in front of her, Morgen’s face was illuminated by the light of dawn and his eyes were sparkling. “You’re like my own personal sunrise.”

Morgen’s eyes went wide for a moment before he smiled softly. “Your sunrise… I quite like that.” He took Josele’s hands in his own and lowered them. Then, he guided Josele into standing up. “If I’m the sun, then I shall strive to brighten your life for the rest of our days!” Morgen exclaimed with a look of pride on his face.

Josele beamed at Morgen. Unsure of what to say in reply, she instead rose up on the tips of her toes to kiss Morgen on the lips. Morgen didn’t hesitate to kiss back.

The kiss tasted of hope.

…

Josele turned to lay on her back and groaned.

All she wanted was to sleep. Forever maybe. Then she would be free to dream of a better world. And she would not have to wake to the cruel reality around her. Or perhaps Josele hoped that if she fell asleep and awoke again, she would find that the world she had been living in was a dream instead. It was a nightmare really.

Because it couldn’t be real. Losing Morgen couldn’t be real.

As much as Josele told herself though, she knew the truth. She held Morgen’s body, cold and still. Saw him laid in a casket, peaceful in an unending sleep.

Morgen was dead and gone.

Josele rolled on her side so she faced away from the window and closed her eyes. If only she could go back.

…

Morgen’s touch was gentle as he led her through a waltz. He twirled her under his arm before bringing her back close to him. They glided across the ballroom floor for a moment longer before coming to a pause. They both understood what would come next. Morgen lowered Josele into a dip.

“You’re as graceful as ever, love,” whispered Morgen.

“Only because I have a wonderful teacher.” Josele twirled a lock of Morgen’s hair that fell over his shoulder.

Morgen beamed, tilting his head and letting out a sigh as he did. How did he manage to do it? To look so relaxed yet refined. Like something out of a dream.

As Morgen raised Josele back up, he let go of her hand to hold the back of her head. Morgen brought Josele in close and leaned in until his forehead touched hers. She felt it all. The warmth of Morgen’s skin. The tickling brush of his bangs. Josele let out a giggle as he started to nuzzle their foreheads together. Then, with a chuckle bubbling from his throat, Morgen pressed a soft kiss to Josele’s temple. Held so close to him, Josele breathed Morgen in like a refreshing morning rain and took in the scent of honey on him. They swayed in place, caught up in one other.

…

Josele knew that moment wasn’t long ago yet it already felt far away. Like it had been years ago instead of months ago. Maybe it had been years and she had lost track of time in her sadness.

But still, the past felt like a dream. It left Josele wondering. Had she really ever been so blessed?

She opened her eyes and sighed. As much as she wanted to avoid the dreaded day, she had to face it. Or at least go about it in a listless daze.

The most she registered from her morning routine was the honey lemon tea she drank with breakfast. Their favorite had a bitter aftertaste.

She had no mission. No patrols. She was free to be on her own. Before she could return to her room as she initially planned, a large, muscular hand landed on her shoulder. A familiar voice said to her, “It’s been a while. Why not try visiting him today?”

If she did, she would only be visiting a ghost.

“Okay.”

She was already doing that anyway.

…

“I discovered this wonderful cafe in the Common Realm while on a mission. It’s called The Wildflower and it’s in the town Lindwell. How about I take you there soon?”

Josele looked at Morgen. He was smiling, as always. But his face was too fuzzy. Was it a relaxed smile? One of excitement for their next date? She couldn’t make it out. Still, she smiled back at him.

“That sounds lovely,” she had said to the suggestion.

Morgen caressed Josele’s hand before kissing it.

“Sorry I can’t talk long, but I have a morning patrol scheduled.” He continued to speak, a goodbye most likely, but the words were lost to Josele.

When Morgen walked away, he looked like he was radiating light. Not from his magic. Had morning light been shining on him through a window? Perhaps Morgen, his presence in Josele’s eyes, was simply… Bright.

…

The sky, now gray with rolling clouds, let out a low rumble.

“Why?” Josele choked up. She lifted her head to gaze upon Morgen’s headstone. “Why did you have to go?”

He couldn’t answer her. Not where he was. But she asked anyway so the question wouldn’t forever be trapped in her heart.

The world was so cruel to take Morgen away. All she had left of him were memories that would grow faded and indistinct with time.

Josele’s happiness with Morgen was gone.

That thought, too, brought memories back.

…

Five years ago, Josele stood in front of a different grave.

“Hi there, Mom. I hope you’re doing well in heaven. I bet it’s really nice there, especially for someone like you.” Josele smiled, or tried to, but it hurt to force it. “Dad and I are still here, doing our best. I’m finishing up those jobs you couldn’t… I’m not as good as you. I wish you could still teach me… Sing with me… And…” Josele tucked back her hair, trying to look composed. “B-but don’t worry! I’m okay! Like you said, my heart is strong…” Her throat closed up. “I’m strong. I’m fine. I’m—!”

Something snapped behind her.

Josele straightened up and turned. Morgen stood behind her, a broken twig beneath his foot. More alarming, his face looked pale and dreary.

“Hey there.” He spoke barely above a whisper. He walked until he stood at her side. “Isn’t it lonely out here?”

“No. Not at all.” Josele turned away from Morgen. “I want to be alone.” She felt Morgen’s hand touch hers and she hastily slapped it away. “What part of ‘I want to be alone’ don’t you get?” she snapped, though she was too tired to truly be mad.

There was a groan of thunder followed by the pitter of falling raindrops.

“J-just go, okay?” Josele muttered, trying to hide her shallow and desperate breaths. Her eyes burned hotter. “I’ll be fine.”

The rain poured harder upon her and Morgen. Cold rain and hot tears ran down Josele’s face. She brushed them off with the back of her hand and closed her eyes, trying to will the tears away. However, they did not stop. In fact, it seemed that the more she fought to keep the tears at bay, the more they flowed. Josele hid her face in her hands, crying uncontrollably.

Her mom died with a smile and so Josele wanted to be the strong girl her mother asked her to be. To grin and face life head on. But in trying to do so, she remembered that those were her mom’s last words. Knowing that made Josele cry. Cry until she ran out of tears and she felt numb. After that, she thought it was finally over and would try again to put on a brave face for herself, for her mother. And the cycle would repeat.

It was so much, too much even. Like Josele felt everything and nothing at the same time. She wanted it all to stop, to go away. But it didn’t. The hurt ebbed and flowed, weighing her heart with darkness. It never stopped though. Would it ever?

Then, there was warmth. A pair of arms wrapped around her.

A gasp escaped Josele. She tried to lift her head only for her face to be pressed into a shoulder.

“I apologize.” Morgen had one hand tangled in her hair and one on her back. “I know what you said but—” He choked up for a moment, holding Josele tighter. “I simply cannot leave you.”

The rain running down her face washed away the sting of her tears. But she didn’t feel any of the cold, not in Morgen’s embrace.

“I know how much you love your mother.” Morgen spoke softly in Josele’s ear. “And I’m sorry you lost her. The happiness you felt with her is gone and you can’t get it back. But you have to remember that you aren’t alone. Your father’s still alive. You have Nacht. And me as well. We care about you and will share in your sorrow until you are ready to smile again. So let us be here for you. Let me… Please.”

A floodgate opened, and Josele let out a strained wail as she clung to Morgen like a lifeline. The weight of it all, her sorrow and pain, caused her knees to buckle beneath her. Morgen didn’t let her collapse though but eased them both to the ground. He held her. So close. Like he wanted to be one with her even in such a broken state. As though he would never let her go.

In that moment, despite the sadness, she felt safe, loved even.

…

Josele knew it was raining. Her clothes were already soaked through. Her bones felt frozen over. But she wouldn’t leave.

Morgen stayed with her through the rain. The least she could do was return the favor.

The cold was nothing compared to how she felt. Nothing could match it. Losing the one she loved because she failed to do a thing for him. Perhaps the unending torment could be her solace, a reminder that she once had him at all after her happy memories of him faded.

Even if the world moved on without him. If she had to go on without him brightening her life.

Morgen was forever in her heart. Forever her light and sunrise. And it pained her to know that.

…..

It was dark. A quiet and comforting darkness. There was warmth in that room. Their room.

Even when Morgen wore the ring that Josele gave him, being with her—engaged even—almost didn’t feel real. To be with someone who loved the truest parts of him and whom he could love without fear. It wasn’t too good to be true but at times it felt like a dream. But Morgen could easily reach out and be reassured that he lived that reality.

So he did.

Morgen reached out his hand and touched Josele’s shoulder. Slowly, Morgen traced Josele’s back with his fingertips. The contours of her body were all too familiar to him. He’d spent so many years admiring her form, how tough Josele was from years of training yet how she felt soft in his arms. If he closed his eyes, he would still know when his fingers ghosted over the faint lines of her scars. Their rough beauty proved that she had struggled and grown. Morgen’s fingers continued down her spine. Perhaps she felt it, as she shivered between breaths, making Morgen chuckle before settling his hand on her hip.

Looking at Josele, Morgen knew he could live that way for the rest of his days. To fall asleep at night with Josele in sight and reach. Then, he could wake to the very same closeness when morning came.

In a few weeks, they’d be husband and wife. Then in several months, they hoped to welcome their first child into the world. And after some years, a whole little family all their own. But those thoughts were for another time. Morgen was getting ahead of himself.

For now, it was him and her. Alone in peaceful darkness.

Morgen soundlessly shifted closer to Josele. He fully wrapped his arm around her waist in a tired hug then rested his head in the crook of her shoulder. She was warm. She smelled of the earth and sweet citrus. It felt right to hold her close.

Not really thinking, Morgen left feather light kisses on Josele’s exposed skin.

“Nhhmm…” Josele shifted. “Morg…en…” Her hand found Morgen’s on her waist.

“Yes, it’s me,” Morgen whispered close to her skin. “Apologies for waking you.” He kissed her a few more times, moving up her neck until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Would you like a little more time to sleep?”

“Nuh… ‘S fhn…” More asleep than awake, Josele squirmed in Morgen’s hold and turned around. “Mornin…” Her hot breath fanned across his neck.

Smiling, Morgen hugged Josele closer and tangled his hand in her bedhead. “Good morning, my heart.”

Morgen was in bliss.

…

When Morgen woke, he noticed that the space beside him was unusually cold. That wasn’t right.

Morgen opened his eyes. Above him was the ceiling of his room at the Faust family’s manor. He shot up in shock knowing he shouldn’t have been there.

Because he remembered.

The pain that coursed through his body after he broke Lucifugus’ relic. Of being carried through shadows. Struggling to breathe and losing feeling in his body. The sound of Nacht’s voice breaking from tears as they spoke in Morgen’s final moments. His dying thoughts had been prayers to the heavens. Wishing to apologize to his loved ones for throwing his life away and wanting more than anything for them to be alright without him. And the very last thing Morgen recalled, hearing the anguished scream of the woman who held all of his heart.

And then it was all dark.

Morgen remembered dying.

So how did he end up in his room?

Morgen rose from his bed and his body felt… like nothing. There was no weight to his motions and if it weren’t for the fact that he knew he was a spirit, he would’ve feared that a slight breeze would knock him over. His form was faintly transparent. It seemed he wore the same clothes he died in.

Walking, or perhaps he was only floating, around and inspecting his room, he found the place eerily untouched. The only thing different was the layer of dust over all the furniture. It brought several questions to mind.

How long ago was his death? Why did it take so long for him to awaken as a spirit? What happened after he died?

As his spectral feet wandered the room, Morgen’s mind wandered too. His thoughts drifted to the people he left behind.

Friends…

Yami must have suffered from Morgen’s passing. What did he say or do when he heard? He would’ve been one of the first to know. Despite acting like he didn’t have a care in the world, Yami would care and would not take the news lightly. Morgen could imagine Yami calling him an idiot for not bringing back up. Family matter or not, Morgen should’ve trusted Yami as his partner. The only comfort was knowing that Yami would forgive Morgen if they had a chance to speak again.

“Become the best Magic Knight for the both of us, okay?” Morgen said to the empty room.

He believed with his whole heart that Yami Sukehiro would become someone incredible.

Family…

And what of Nacht? Even if it was never said out loud, Morgen missed being close with Nacht, missed truly acting like brothers and not strangers with the same parents. Morgen was sure Nacht felt the same. Yet they let a rift come between them which led to that dreadful moment where Morgen’s voice could not reach Nacht. Then Nacht carried Morgen as he breathed for the last time. The weight of Morgen’s death must have felt like too much in Nacht’s hands. Why? Why did that have to be their last shared memory?

“Please don’t blame yourself, brother,” Morgen prayed, holding his hands to his heart. “Know it was me, my choice. For your sake…”

Because Morgen had only ever loved Nacht and wanted to see him live up to the potential he always had.

His beloved…

Morgen came to a full stop in front of his nightstand. There on top was a small portrait of himself and Josele. Of them not long after getting engaged, side-by-side and grinning with all the joy in the world. In his whole life, seeing Josele so joyous was amongst the highlights. Morgen smiled wistfully at the picture.

“Josele.” Morgen’s beloved heart, his treasured fiancée. “I shouldn’t have left you… I wish I could’ve at least said goodbye.”

There were no final words for them though. What had Morgen’s last words to Josele been? Their last conversation… Morgen should’ve said something special then. But he hadn’t, because he believed he would come back from the confrontation with his family.

How had it been for Josele? To be presented with his death, likely out of the blue, on a day that should’ve been normal, peaceful. She must’ve cried, even after he promised to never give her any reason to. How many tears? For how long? All while he had been able to do a thing. Not brush away the tears nor speak much needed reassurance. It was cruel of Morgen, there was no other word for it, the way he died and left Josele with heartbreak.

There was no fixing these mistakes. Morgen could not apologize to any of them, for anything.

It never crossed Morgen’s mind to wonder if ghosts could cry but in that moment, he knew. Because his own eyes were clouded with burning tears.

“Yami. Nacht. Josele. I hope you’ll all forgive me…” Morgen whimpered for no one to hear. “For being so foolish… I’m… sorry…” He tried to wipe away his tears but they kept falling. “Ah… Aaaahhhh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I’M SO SORRY!”

A cry. A scream. A broken noise felt like it had been ripped from his throat and filled the room.

Morgen felt heavy. Pulled to the ground not by gravity but a weight of guilt too great to truly describe. His fingers curled, trying to grip the carpeted floor. Only his hand passed right through the material. All he could feel was grief, not even for his own passing but for his loved ones and their pain, the hurt he inflicted on them.

And so Morgen cried. He let his spirit be shaken with tears that wouldn’t end and screams that could no longer leave his throat aching.

At times, he choked. He felt his voice, his empty voice that no one but him could hear, catch in his throat. He couldn’t even feel that pain though.

Morgen continued to wail, letting his anguish echo in the room. He didn’t know or care how long it went on, he could only think of letting out every ounce of pain weighing on his heart. All he knew was his tears, his sorrow.

“Aaauuughhhh… Hah…ahhh…”

Eventually, Morgen’s voice died down. The heaviness he had felt before was gone, leaving him a weightless spirit as before. His eyes were still full of tears, but he no longer had it in him to scream or sob. He swallowed. Or tried to. He thought he did but his body truly felt nothing once again.

When Morgen opened his eyes, he found the room had gone dark. He rose up and looked out the window. Night had fallen, the stars and moon were out.

Morgen took a breath. Tried to. It was only the intent to breathe he could be sure of.

He was also sure that he couldn’t stay there languishing in sorrow. There was something for him to do. Because he was there, in the physical world as a spirit, not yet moved onto the afterlife. So there must’ve been something he had to do, a reason to be present.

And that reason, the one to come to the forefront of his mind, was Josele. To go to her and bring her comfort after he left her with pain.

So Morgen left, passing through the ruins of his family home. The cracked walls, splintered floorboards, and furniture thrown askew sent an ache through him. But he didn’t allow himself to get distracted by the lonely halls or the thought of going to Nacht.

It was a timeless stroll. Everything around Morgen was muted. Colors were only as vibrant as washed out chalk. Words blended and echoed to the point of being indistinct. It only made sense; his spirit may have been in the world of the living, but he was not amongst those alive.

Morgen did not stop until he arrived at the Grey Deer base, pausing outside the door where he knew he would find Josele.

“My heart, I’ve returned,” Morgen said before he stepped straight through the door.

Morgen’s room at the base looked largely unchanged from when he last saw it. A pair of desks, one with a clean, solid varnish and the other decorated with designs carved in by hand. The coffee table and loveseat in the far corner for them to relax at. The vanity, divided distinctly for himself and Josele to use.

The only difference Morgen could find was that there was one less person on the bed.

Josele, alone, lay atop the sheets, her back to the window and her hands clutching Morgen’s squad robe to her heart. Morgen drew nearer to Josele’s form. As he did, he could see her face, twisted in pain and stained with tears. Her voice reached his ears with perfect clarity, and the words she muttered…

“Sunrise… I’m sorry. I can’t… Just please come back…”

Josele, so broken and with the very same sorrow Morgen felt in his own heart. Seeing her in such a state brought a stinging haze back to Morgen’s eyes.

“Josele, my heart…” Morgen knelt beside the bed and reached for Josele. “I’m here for you, love.”

Morgen brushed his hand against Josele’s cheek. Josele stilled when he did and she opened her eyes, looking straight in Morgen’s direction with watery eyes. Morgen held his breath, or felt a sensation similar to the action with his bodiless being. But only for a brief second, as that imaginary breath was drawn out of him like his hope when Josele sat up straight and looked around the room.

The only sound to be heard was the labored breaths from Josele’s cried out throat. And then…

“Morgen?”

His name on Josele’s lips was sharper to his heart than a dagger.

Josele looked down at Morgen’s robe and let out a sob.

“No… Please, not a…” Josele’s voice broke after those few words. She drew the robe to her chest once again.

“My heart… This is my fault isn’t it?” Morgen whispered to her.

He sat himself beside his beloved. Again he reached for her, placing a hand on her cheek and wrist. Josele shuddered from another wave of cries but it felt as though it was in response to Morgen’s phantom touch. For a moment, Morgen watched Josele. He motioned brushing his thumb along her skin, ghosting right over her tears and leaving them untouched.

“For not being more careful with my life… For not returning to you… I’m sorry.” As he spoke, Morgen leaned in until his forehead should’ve touched Josele’s. Close as they were though, he could not feel the warmth of her skin or the way she trembled with each breath. “All I can ask for now is for you to forget. Everything about me, all our time together, let go of those memories. If it means you can smile again, I’m okay with it.” Morgen smiled, despite Josele being unable to see and the growing hole in his heart. “Josele, I love you with all my heart. And with all my heart, I ask you to forget me and the pain of my passing…”

All of Morgen’s words, his wish for Josele and the permission he granted, were not to be heard. He knew as much.

Morgen tried, and failed, to brush aside Josele’s bangs. Then, he placed a ghost of a kiss on Josele’s forehead.

Morgen watched Josele a little longer. As she curled in on herself. Around his squad robe.

Then, he stood.

As much as Morgen wanted to stay beside Josele. To have what was left of his presence watch over her despite not being unable to comfort her. He didn’t want to haunt her. Not even out of love.

When Morgen reached the door, he took one last look at Josele. At the woman whose heart he broke despite swearing to protect it.

For now it was dark. But Morgen wanted to believe that one day, maybe soon or maybe in the far future, Josele’s light, that spirit of hers which he fell in love with, would shine again.

“And we’ll meet again, Josele. I know it…”

.....

Evening was descending, and Nacht and Josele were on the roof of the Faust manor to enjoy the twilight.

They would certainly get yelled at for it later. His parents wouldn’t approve of him doing something so uncouth and frivolous. Her father would scold her for staying out late and hanging out with the likes of him. But neither cared.

They laughed as they scaled the roof to their usual spot, becoming bathed in the sunset’s light once they reached the top. In that glow, Josele’s face also brightened with a wide grin. It was somewhat silly, the way she looked so enraptured by a sight that happened every day.

Yet Nacht found himself similarly admiring Josele. A plain, straightforward girl whose every smile was… Nacht caught himself and hastily looked away before she could notice. Despite knowing that she wouldn’t.

“Your house really has the best view,” Josele remarked as she and Nacht got themselves settled. “Wanna play our star game tonight?”

Racing to be the first to see the stars after sunset. A silly game from their childhood.

“Mhm. Sure.” Nacht’s answer was only half there. His attention elsewhere, as he dared to take another glance at Josele. But only for a second.

Even if he knew she wouldn’t see it, he couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t let her know. That her presence made his heart race yet lulled him into a tranquil state. How, like night and day, those two feelings pulled him in opposite directions without tearing him apart. That wasn’t it though. It wasn’t simply the feelings Nacht held for Josele, or the fact that he cared for her. Hiding it, all of it, from Josele was what ached. And not just ached but ate away at Nacht.

Those thoughts stirred in Nacht’s mind as he sat there with Josele, marveling at the golden rays of daylight descending below the horizon and making way for a deep blue, or perhaps violet, night sky. In the quiet of the moment, Nacht felt Josele lean against his side.

Nacht felt a sensation in his heart. Was it racing? Perhaps it was a flutter? Or maybe it could be described as a dance? It was something that was pleasantly warm yet strikingly hot. Nacht couldn’t find the word for what he felt because of Josele. For Josele.

He turned his eyes to her, little by little, as if a thief; not in the night, but the dimming light of the evening sun. Once again, he looked at her.

Even though he couldn’t. Because letting his feelings for Josele be known, by her no less, would be… nothing short of absurd. Though not because Josele didn’t deserve being cared for, or that Nacht found the emotions too much to bear. But because he, Nacht himself, shouldn’t harbor such an emotion for Josele.

That feeling, one so gentle and sweet, could only be… love.

In that moment, Nacht realized and could no longer deny it.

He loved Josele.

“There it is!” Josele’s voice brought Nacht out of his reverie. “The first star of the night!” Josele pointed—Nacht’s eyes followed—to a faint, silver twinkle amidst the darkness.

“Congratulations, Josie,” said Nacht, letting out a breath. “Time for your reward.”

Josele lifted her head and gave Nacht a look of disbelief. “Since when did we play for prizes?”

“Never. But I was thinking you deserved one after so many years.” Nacht’s reply got a giggle out of Josele. “Right. So…” He stared at Josele for a moment, and she stared back. “Your reward is keeping something safe for me.”

“Huh? I win and I have to do you a favor?” Again, Josele laughed. “Alright then. What is it?”

“Close your eyes.”

Josele raised a brow, silently questioning. Nacht inclined his head in her direction as if to say “if you would.” With a grin and sigh, Josele closed her eyes.

Then, Nacht leaned in and kissed Josele. A brief, soft brush of his lips against hers. There was a faint taste of citrus. There was a… bitterness. Not in the act itself but the sentiment. Because Nacht told himself it would be their first and last.

When Nacht pulled away, he saw Josele staring at him, face colored up and eyes wide.

“N-Nacht… that…” Josele touched her lips. “It was my first kiss…”

“Mine too,” Nacht admitted, grinning playfully at Josele. “Take care of it. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Of course…” Josele averted her eyes and then nudged Nacht with her shoulder. “B-but now my first kiss is so dull! That’s not fair!”

“I entrusted my first kiss to you and you complain about it being dull?” Nacht clicked his tongue. “Why do I even try?” He melodramatically shrugged.

“Hngh…” Josele scowled. “Nachty…”

“Don’t look so sour. We both know you’re not really mad,” Nacht said plainly. “Besides…” He raised his hand towards Josele’s face. “Frowning isn’t a good look on you.”

Josele’s blush visibly darkened as Nacht’s hand drew closer. But she didn’t take her eyes off him. The tips of Nacht’s fingers brush against Josele’s cheek. Then, Nacht pinched Josele.

“H-hey!” Josele exclaimed, not out of indignation but surprise.

“Heh. I know I’m handsome but I think that view is much better,” Nacht whispered, gesturing towards the sky with his head and releasing his friend.

Josele recoiled with a giggle. “That’s true!” She lifted her gaze to the sky once more. “The night sure is beautiful…”

Nacht nodded. As for him, he looked at Josele.

…

Nacht looked at Josele still. Though the sight of her was much different in the present, far more painful.

Josele was there. Nacht knew as much, for he could hear her voice and reach out to touch her. But it wasn’t the same. Josele went through the days with a glazed look in her eyes. Her smile, the one that Nacht never tired of, didn’t show anymore. Her motions were mechanical and her actions passionless. She was there and yet wasn’t.

The Josele that Nacht knew, that woman he loved…

It was like she no longer existed.

And he was to blame.

Nacht stood in the doorway leading out to the garden. In the central courtyard, there was Josele. She sparred with Plumede using a wood staff. She gracefully pivoted around Plumede’s claws when attacked. Then, she swung the staff only for Plumede to gracefully duck under the strike.

Despite the curse, Josele still had drive. The determination to train and remain strong.

But to what end?

What kind of future did she seek? Where did her footsteps take her? Did she have a destination in mind? Or did she move simply so she wouldn’t have to stay still, stuck where she was? What purpose did she have in mind for herself, if any at all?

Nacht asked himself those questions because he couldn’t ask Josele herself. At least, he couldn’t ask and expect a definite answer.

To see Josele like in her present state, lost to even herself…

It was close to unbearable.

Nacht still watched Josele though. Even when he could scarcely swallow the anxiety that got caught in his throat when she was near. And his lungs refused to work properly.

They were crushed by a guilt that would surely never release him from its grip. Filled with sorrow, like the heavy waves in a storm, that drowned him. And the pain became worse when Josele was near.

Because Nacht mourned Josele. The same as he mourned Morgen. But at least Nacht could step away from Morgen’s grave and be assured that the earth had embraced his dear brother. But Josele lived.

Josele was alive and she breathed and could still be saved. So Nacht vowed to do just that, free her from the Blight Devil and break the curse that sealed her heart. He would stay close to her, protect her.

It hurt to see her as she was. Though it would have been far more painful, more terrifying, to even imagine taking his eyes off her again.

For if Nacht did look away… Then Josele could fade away entirely. Taken by cruel fates.

Just as Morgen had been.

So Nacht stayed close to Josele. Even if it meant he couldn’t breathe.

It was a bitter irony, Nacht thought. How once before Josele could steal the breath right out of his lungs with her smile. And in the present, she kept him from taking in air altogether.

At last, Nacht stepped out and approached Josele as her posture relaxed, finishing the spar. He stopped a few steps away and she, sensing him, turned around.

“Lord Faust,” Josele greeted with a faint nod.

“Just Nacht is fine,” he replied, trying to ignore the sting in his heart. He glanced at Plumede. The devil bowed her head and sank into Nacht’s shadow. Nacht returned his attention to Josele and said, “Would you care to watch the sunset with me? It’s sure to be lovely.”

Josele blinked and stared at Nacht, or perhaps through him, before nodding.

Nacht offered his hand to Josele. She took it. Her hand in his, it was so warm that it was hard to believe that it belonged to Josele at the moment. When he turned to lead Josele inside, though the route they always took as kids, he felt Josele hold her place.

“Would it not be faster to move through the shadows?” she asked flatly.

Though Nacht couldn’t see it, he felt her heavy, leaden gaze on him. A silent breath escaped Nacht. His brow furrowed and a bitter smile crossed his face. Then he muttered,

“Y-yes. It would be…”

He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to pull Josele into the nothingness of the shadows. He wouldn’t dare do that to her after his rotten self already haunted her life, ripped away her happiness in killing Morgen, and thrust a hateful dagger into her heart. To drag her further into his darkness, his cursed world, was too horrid a deed.

“Let’s walk,” he whispered. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Alright then.”

…

Sunlight peeked through the leaves and branches of trees that lined the path that led through the garden of the Faust estate. Walking side-by-side along the path were Nacht and Josele, only nine at the time. The girl had her arms crossed behind her back and she walked with a slight skip. The boy had a small book in hand, moving to close it.

“Wait, not yet. Read another one of them,” Josele said with an encouraging smile. “Please Nachty?”

“C’mon, really?” Nacht huffed and rolled his eyes. “You don’t even know what I’m saying.”

“That doesn’t matter! You sound so cool when you speak that old language.”

“I keep telling you it’s called German.”

“Okay okay. But I mean it! When you talk in German, it’s real am—”

“No need to butter me up, I’ll read another.” Nacht flipped to a random page and began to read off it. “Here goes… [Ich liebe dich, so wie du mich].” The syllables fell from Nacht’s lips with a grace despite the gutteral sound of them. “[Am Abend und am Morgen…]”

“Heh. That’s Momo’s name…”

Nacht smiled and nodded in affirmation. He continued to read, “[Noch war kein Tag]…”

For the next short while, Nacht spoke with clarity in a tongue Josele couldn’t make sense of. He glanced at Josele from time to time. Her expression was one of eagerness and awe, highlighted by the occasional sunbeam reaching her through the canopy. Seeing her so… “Entranced” felt too strong a word but a part of Nacht wanted to believe that he was that compelling, that Josele was that interested. Not that she could, or would, fake it.

Soon, Nacht spoke the final line, “[Schütz und erhalt' uns beide.]”

Nacht closed the small book and lowered it to his side. He looked at Josele, grinning proudly.

“So?”

“Cool as ever, Nachty!” Josele replied with a grin, her shoulders rising and head tilting to the right as she did. “So…” In her pause, she tucked a bit of hair back. “What’s the poem about?”

“It’s a love poem,” Nacht said as he waved his book in the air. “About having sorrow and comfort together.”

Josele tilted her head further to the side. “What kind of love poem is that? Thought love was supposed to be a happy thing…”

“Poetry can be confusing and contradictory,” Nacht remarked with a lazy shrug. “Maybe it’s one of those things we’re meant to get when we’re older.”

“Hm, maybe…”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Josele reached out a hand and Nacht took it. They continued their stroll together.

…

Just like back then, Nacht and Josele walked hand-in-hand.

Despite their physical closeness, it felt like there was a chasm between them. Their closeness in the past felt like a dream. No, it was a lie. Nacht didn’t deserve to be close to Josele, not the way Morgen was, but he couldn’t forget those halcyon days.

He clung to the memory of them. To Josele.

Nacht and Josele shared a life in that empty shell of his family home. It was the two of them in that house. Perhaps their devils were present but they weren’t a part of it, the tragedy between himself and her.

The sorrow belonged to Nacht and Josele alone. Even if she had locked away her share of it with the curse, it was there as the very reason she cursed herself to begin with.

The burden, the pain, was not easy for either of them. But Nacht knew it would’ve been worse for him if Josele, or what was left of her, weren’t beside him. And what Josele thought of him…

Nacht could only imagine how awful it was.

And he deserved it.

Still, Josele’s listless presence was preferable to her absence. Though her eyes lacked a spark and her words were devoid of any melody and her heart was locked away… Josele was there. She could, and sometimes did, hold Nacht in her arms. And in those moments, creating a pitiful imitation of true comfort, Nacht wept for Josele. For her sake and in her stead.

At last, Nacht and Josele reached the roof. It looked as though the sun had set the sky ablaze as it sank into the horizon. It truly was a magnificent sight.

Nacht turned his head in Josele’s direction. The sunset colored her eyes gold, like it used to. Josele’s eyes widened and her lips parted. An emotion didn’t quite make it to her features but she looked a little more alive.

How was it that even then, amidst so much pain, Nacht found himself feeling happy beside Josele? How could he fall deeper in love with her?

That old poem he read back then finally made sense.

“[Du, meines Lebens Freude]…” Nacht whispered, letting the sentiment be heard, though he couldn’t be sure if it was understood. “[Gott schütze dich, erhalt' dich mir]…”

Josele blinked, the light in her eyes fading in that instant, and turned to Nacht. “What did you say?”

The question was asked but it didn’t sound sincere, as if Josele already knew the answer. It didn’t make sense. But did anything about them make sense?

Nacht smiled bitterly.

“Nothing,” he lied. In truth, those words were everything. Because Josele was everything.

Ever so slowly and gently, he tugged on Josele’s hand—as he had never let go of her—and brought her into an embrace. He touched his forehead to Josele’s. With every breath, so close to her, he took in Josele’s scent, that of the earth and bitter lemons.

Nacht would not let go of Josele, never again.

Like a distant star in the night sky, that was Josele. His life’s delight. His love.

#black clover #black clover fanfic #nacht faust #morgeon faust #josele canty #black clover oc #soda's ocs #morgsele #nacsele #faustsele #angst #my lovely sister beta read this for me #and when she read morgen's flashback she looked at me and kinda asked #'how did you manage to write them so intimately?'#and i could only answer 'my imagination' because like... this ace gal ain't doing anything like that!#the way to break josele's curse is found in one of her flashbacks #nacht's section was by far the hardest part to write #he's so difficult sometimes! (affectionate)#the poem that Nacht recites lines from is 'Zärtliche Liebe'

15 notes · View notes

irndad · 3 months

Text

won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

3K notes · View notes

simplyreveries · 4 months

Note

I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!

what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?

e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)

OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭

OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!

azul ashengrotto

despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.

so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.

like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.

jade leech

he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.

it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..

like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.

leona kingscholar

he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.

if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.

leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.

malleus draonica

malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.

speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.

after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.

lilia vanrouge

he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.

just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!

lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.

5K notes · View notes

staryuee · 27 days

Text

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

2K notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 6 months

Note

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

#asks #thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #1fur1

2K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 5 months

Text

Lessons in Anatomy

Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader

Summary: studying can be hard … good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to let you get some hands-on experience

You let out a heavy sigh as you flip through the anatomy textbook in front of you. As a first year medical student, you’ve been spending most late nights recently trying to memorize every muscle, nerve, and blood vessel in the human body.

Lately you’ve been completely absorbed in learning about the upper limbs — the shoulders, arms, hands and fingers — and it’s all starting to blend together.

Closing the textbook, you stand up and stretch your arms above your head, feeling the pull in your deltoids and biceps. You’ve read so much about the muscles, it might help to actually palpate and feel where they are on your own body.

You lift your right arm out to the side until it’s parallel with the floor, palm facing down. Gently, you place your left hand on your right deltoid and feel the round contour of the muscle. You trace your fingertips along the borders, visualizing how the muscle attaches on the humerus bone.

“What are you doing?”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice behind you. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him come home.

“Oh, I’m just, uh, palpating my deltoid muscle,” you say sheepishly as you drop your arm back to your side. “Trying to get a feel for where the muscles actually are.”

Charles grins, his bright green eyes twinkling with amusement at finding you in such an odd pose. “My talented girlfriend, always studying so hard,” he says.

You can’t help but smile back at him. The two of you met in school years ago, long before Charles became an F1 driver and your life became a whirlwind of travel, media attention, and hardly getting to see each other when coupled with your own studies. Moments like this — relaxed, easy, normal — have become few and far between.

Charles walks over to you and surprises you by taking your hand and placing it onto his upper arm.

“Here, feel mine instead so you don’t have to contort yourself,” he offers. “I’ll be your anatomy model.”

You laugh lightly and begin palpating the hard, defined muscles of his arm through his thin t-shirt. You locate the boundaries of his deltoid, impressed by the athletic development.

“Very nice delts,” you say teasingly.

“Why thank you, I work out sometimes,” Charles replies with a cheeky wink.

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. His playful arrogance is one of the things you love most about him.

Slowly, you map out the contours of his shoulder, mentally labeling the muscles — supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres minor. Charles watches your focused expression with affection.

“How’s it going so far?” He asks. “Am I a good model?”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur absently, engrossed in your exploration.

You move down his arm, wrapping your hands gently around his biceps. You note the two distinct heads of the muscle.

“Can you flex for me?” You ask professionally.

Charles obliges, flexing his bicep and causing it to bulge up under your hands.

“Excellent, thank you,” you say, impressed by the muscle definition. Your fingers drift down his arm to his forearm, tracing the brachioradialis.

You are hyperaware of Charles’ eyes following your every movement. There’s an intimacy to having your hands on him like this that makes your heart beat faster. You try to remain focused, but with him standing so close, his warmth radiating onto you, it’s difficult to think clinically.

When you take his hand in yours, turning it palm up to examine the tendons along his wrist and fingers, you’re struck by its elegant beauty.

His hands may spend most days encased in racing gloves, but they still hold such graceful strength and capability. You find yourself tenderly tracing along the lines of his palm, the indentation at the base of each finger.

You look up to see Charles watching you, his expression soft and affectionate. Impulsively, you lift his hand to your lips and place a kiss along his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before he smiles.

“I don’t think that’s part of the medical curriculum,” he says, his voice low.

You grin. “Just conducting some independent research.”

Charles lifts his other hand to lightly trace his fingertips along your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles along your skin.

“Well in that case, I think you need to continue your in-depth examination,” he murmurs.

Your pulse quickens as his fingers trail down your neck and along your collarbone. Gently, he turns you around so your back is to him and sweeps your hair over one shoulder. You shiver pleasantly at the feeling of his hands gliding along the slopes of your shoulders.

“It’s important to know the trapezius muscle,” he says close to your ear. His fingers skim down from the base of your neck, tracing the borders of the trapezius down toward your shoulder blades. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation.

“Mmm yes, very important,” you breathe.

His hands span across your upper back, gently kneading into the muscle. You let out an appreciative sigh, the tension you’ve been carrying in your back dissolving under his touch.

Charles places a kiss to the curve of your neck as his hands work their way down your spine, counting each vertebrae.

“The vertebral column is quite elegant, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. You hum in agreement, eyes still closed.

When his hands come to rest just above your waist, your breath catches in anticipation. His touch is driving you crazy but you don’t want him to stop.

Slowly, he slides his hands around your waist to your stomach, splaying his fingers possessively across your abdomen. He pulls your back against his chest until no space remains between you.

“How am I doing as your study partner?” He asks, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm, top of the class,” you reply a little breathlessly.

He grins against your skin. “Maybe we should move this study session somewhere more comfortable.”

You turn around to face him, draping your arms lazily around his neck. “I’ll have to clear my schedule. My boyfriend’s this really busy, important Formula 1 driver, you know.”

Charles smiles, leaning in close until his nose brushes yours. “I think he can make time for you.”

He closes the remaining distance, bringing his mouth to yours in a kiss that curls your toes. You melt into him, all thoughts of anatomy and studying dissolving from your mind.

In this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. The chaos of life fades away and you’re reminded why you endure the challenges of his demanding career.

Because at the end of the day, you have this — your love, steadfast and true. The rest of the world falls away and you’re home.

1K notes · View notes

janitorhutcherson · 6 months

Note

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

2K notes · View notes

fefern · 8 days

Note

Hello!! I'm in love with your Wuwa hcs and writing in general and I'd love to put in a request, if you're still open for them :0 <3

I'd like to request some fluffy hcs for Jiyan with an s/o that's part dragon, has horns and tail and maybe some scales like Mortefi(forgot if you spell his name like that I'm sorry😭 the red scientist guy). The s/o is super protective of him but also aloof in public, super cuddly in private when the time is right, brings him rocks and flowers as gifts and all that cute stuff, basically courting him by "dragon standards" hajsjdjd

Thank you for your time!<3

✧˖° his reaction to a dragon hybrid lover. | jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: look in the sky! it's a bird, it's a plane, it's a... dragon hybrid reader? just how will jiyan react to being courted by you, and how does he love you as someone who's part dragon?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: jiyan and gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello hello hello! i hope you are doing well lovely anon!! thank you for sending in an ask, and i hope this fufils what you were looking for ;;!! sending lots of love, and as always, requests are open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

your tail would be so so pretty, decorated with scales that had colors that mimic the colors of the clouds and skies.

your horns would be cute on the top of your head, a bit pointy and glowing in the night.

jiyan has come to adore your dragon features, finding them both unique and absolutely beautiful. he’s caught often staring at the way your scales on your face, neck, and tail all catch the sunlight just right to create a glimmer like nothing he’s ever seen before.

he’s quiet in the way he admires you, gently curling a piece of your hair behind your pointy little ears and smiling whenever you look over at him when he does.

he didn’t have time to confess to you about his feelings though, he was caught up with being a general and of course, he also had to consider the fact that he didn’t really know if you would reciprocate them back.

would you prefer mating with another dragon hybrid yourself? is that how these things work?

after a few months of being around you though, he began to notice some… strange things.

for example, whenever you two were walking around the city, you’d always be on the defensive, not letting anyone get too close, not even the chef when you’d go get lunch together.

then, sometimes, when he comes back from long patrols, you overload him with rocks and flowers that you’ve gathered for him, and he always says thank you, even though it’s a bit difficult to bring back to his home.

(he keeps them in his room forever to admire when you’re not around.)

also, lately, you’ve been much more affectionate with him, rubbing your cheek against his and getting very touchy as well, always wanting to be close to him physically.

he expresses his confusion about your behavior to one of the researchers when he stops by one day to gather some intel for a mission for his rangers.

one of the researchers directs him to a shelf that discusses about dragon hybrids, and the man spends almost the entirety of one day learning more about you and your species.

the way he feels his cheeks flush a soft pink when he realizes just what it means for you to have been doing all these actions. he feels like he had a revelation, but at the same time feels stupid and dense.

he’s quick to come back to you one day with flowers and your favorite food in hand, giving them to you and confessing his love for you on top of a quiet hill with a beautiful view of the starry night sky.

“my pretty dragon, you’re prettier than anyone in all of huanglong, and i have loved you for quite some time. will you do me the honors and be mine?”

when you say yes, he feels overjoyed and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug as he’s careful not to hit your horns or tail while doing so.

after the successful confession, a few things change.

for one, when you begin sleeping over more at his place, he begins to gift you dozens of fluffy blankets and pillows. he organizes them in a nest-like position for you to cuddle up in, and finds it adorable when he comes back to the sight of you curled up in the fluffiness.

jiyan will cuddle with you more often now, guiding your tail to wrap around his strong muscles so that you get your fix of touching as much of his skin as possible. jiyan likes to run his hands over the smooth scales to coax you to sleep.

he enjoys pecking soft kisses on the scales of your face and neck; it’s his little reminder to you to not be insecure about something so beautiful.

overall, you’re jiyan’s most beloved treasure. he will do anything to make sure his little dragon is safe and loved.

#wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves headcanons #wuwa headcanons #wuwa x reader #jiyan #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan x reader #wuthering waves jiyan x reader #jiyan headcanons #wuwa jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan headcanons #wuthering waves jiyan #wuwa jiyan #qi writes

577 notes · View notes

fuckmycrane · 8 months

Text

Moon — Thomas Shelby.

— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)

— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.

Vulnerability.

It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of.

It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him.

And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.

Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.

Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.

He wishes he could steal you.

He knows how much he loves you.

It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.

He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body.

In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you.

Home. Home. Home.

“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.

He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice.

Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.

“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you.

“How is everyone?”

“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”

“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”

“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”

With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”

And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.

“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”

That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands.

His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife.

Such an angel sent from heaven.

“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”

His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”

“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”

Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”

You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”

The loyalty he so loves.

His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor.

“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view.

“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you.

But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.

He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…

Love you.

With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has. Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning.

Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave.

“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear.

“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling.

A warm, fuzzy feeling.

He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.

And he swears it to the moon.

#— ✏️ anya writes!#— 🚬 thomas shelby!#thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x you #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader

2K notes · View notes

a-hazbin-reader · 4 months

Note

Hehehehe what about Vox and a fem!S/O that makes it a habit to fluster him or smother his techy butt in affection? I really just wanna take care of this stressed and overworked man whdiskansoskns-

Oh I suppose we can throw him a bone~

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

Vox is probably the most stressed out of all the V's, not necessarily because of his workload but because of his temperament

A lot of little things get to him even though he tries not to show it

So he really appreciates having you as his S/O, especially on those days where he's losing his shit, because your affectionate nature helps him focus on something else

On those days, you manage to get him to lay down and accept a back massage from you, and you only tickle his sides a little

You couldn't help it

Sometimes, he actually falls asleep only to wake up to you lying on top of him, arms wrapped around his chest

Or you kiss the side of his screen and hug his neck while he vents to you, holding you securely in his lap

He doesn't want solutions, he just wants you to listen and keep cooing at him like you agree with him

Sometimes all he needs is just a hug from his favorite person in the world and you are more than willing to give it

He could die happy wrapped in your arms and breathing in your scent, your fingers gently caressing the edges of his screen

He loves how affectionate you are with him, knows that he would probably been driven mad by now if it weren't for you in his life

But if you do it in public or around the V's?? He's absolutely mortified and will actually just fizzle out right then and there

Not that you care, you'll take care of him

He's on tv doing his show? No matter, you blow him kisses from behind the camera until he's too flustered to go on, ending it earlier so he can go to you

Definitely doesn't cash in on all those smooches you were blowing his way

Not you interrupting a meeting with the V's because he forgot his phone, you practically demanding a kiss goodbye before you go

"Y/N, we're in a meeting I can't just-"

"I won't leave without a proper kiss!"

Smooch

Not Valentino hooting and hollering at you two as you grip onto your mans and really kiss him

Vox is so dazed by the time you scamper off, flopping back into his chair and hardly registering anything being said

...he definitely had his phone in his pocket before he left...he just didn't check after you pulled him in for a hug...

Did you pickpocket him just to kiss him at work!? In front of his friends!?

And now his screen went dark

The two of you are going out somewhere? You insist on holding his hand and kissing it at every opportunity, gazing up at him innocently

He chokes on his own spit

Even when you aren't awake you're so affectionate

Vox tries to get out of bed and get an early start on the day? Not unless he's taking you with him, your sleepy arms wrapped around him like a vice

More often than not, Vox is seen carrying you around while he sips his coffee, you peacefully dozing against him

You always rub your face on him, practically purring in your sleep because you're so content to snuggle him

He's blushing the entire time while trying to keep a neutral or annoyed look on his face, sipping his drink while scrolling through the news

If anybody mentions it then they're fired

If you ever wear lipstick or anything like that? You bet Vox is stumbling out of closets and rooms covered in kiss marks, blushing furiously

You look so innocent when you step out behind him, like you didn't nearly take his soul

Don't worry, you'll clean him up~

You give him affection and love so freely that it's difficult for him not to be embarrassed, not used to such a thing

He does try to reciprocate but it's not nearly as easy for him as it is for you, but he wants you to know he feels the same

So every once in awhile when you two are alone, he'll pull you into his lap and kiss the back of your neck in an attempt to hide his blush

"You know I'd be so lost without you, right?"

Now he's just asking for you to kiss him until he's begging for mercy

"Y/N W-WAIT!"

I had a lot of fun with this one! I hope it was okay!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin x reader #vox x reader

596 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

Hello lovely! I was wondering if you could whip up a little something about the reader because self conscious and comparing herself to Hayley maybe she’s a little chubby and such so when Hayley comes back into their lives she’s a little worried. But Elijah always the gentleman comforts her with some good ol sex 🤪🤪 if not feel free to ignore 💕

Reminder

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Your relationship with Elijah feels like its unravelling with the arrival of Hayley and a cutting nickname from Klaus. Fortunately, Elijah knows just what to do to make you feel loved.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, this one goes out to all my thick thighed brothers & sisters. May you all find an Elijah to suffocate between them. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, face sitting, Klaus being cruel, Elijah being sweet.

When you are a vampire time passes differently, things change around you, and sometimes you feel like the odd man out. When you first met Elijah everything was different. Culture, language, even the food and the music. He was captivated by you instantly, he whisked you away from your difficult life and kept you in his bed. Making sure you knew how much he loved every inch of your body. He was your first and only lover, the man who turned you and showed you a world you never thought was possible.

Centuries had passed with just the two of you, then Klaus returned to your lives and with him came the lovely Hayley Marshall. Pregnant, doe eyed and absolutely beautiful.

You weren't jealous at first, Elijah was devoted to you and only you. His heart was yours, that was all you cared about. But Klaus brought his chaos with him, and your noble lover had to keep Hayley safe. She needed to be protected, so Elijah spent more time with her and less with you.

You were alone, and it left a hollow feeling in your chest. You felt forgotten and unloved. Elijah did his best to spend time with you, but it wasn't enough.

Then your mind started playing cruel tricks on you, making you see Hayley and Elijah together. She was so pretty, her body was tall and thin, while yours was plump and soft. You had nightmares of Elijah touching her, kissing her, making her moan his name.

It made you want to throw up.

The whole thing made you feel irrational and insecure, Elijah loved you, he told you all the time, but still the thoughts lingered.

It wasn't until Klaus gave you a certain nickname, that it truly got under your skin.

Little wolf he would purr, calling Hayley to him, the words fell off his tongue like honey. It was such an affectionate term, one with many layers of meaning. It was beautiful and sweet, and Klaus seemed so proud to call her this.

But then there was his nickname for you, Elijah's little cherub.

It was not meant as an endearment, but as an insult. Klaus was right, you did look a little like a cherub, soft, round cheeks, and a full, thick body. It hurt you, even if you tried not to let it get to you. You told yourself that Klaus wasn't important, his opinion didn't matter. But the words he spoke stuck in your mind.

Everything was going fine, you had mastered keeping your insecurities under wraps, until Klaus and Elijah announced that they were throwing a ball.

It was Elijah's first time hosting one since the two of you moved to New Orleans. He was a natural at hosting parties, he knew just how to make everyone feel welcome. It was a trait you didn't have. You were too quiet and reserved, people would get bored with you and leave. Elijah was the life of the party, everyone wanted to be around him. You were afraid you would ruin it for him.

You never felt good in gowns, you felt big and bulky. The ones you tried on just made you look worse. You hated looking at yourself in the mirror, you looked like an overstuffed pillow. There was no way you could go out in public like this. You even dug out an old corset to try and make yourself look smaller. It just made your breasts spill out over the top. You were mortified and threw the thing in the garbage. You were starting to wonder what Elijah saw in you.

When he entered your bedroom, you were sitting on the bed, resigning yourself to the dress that you knew didn't suit you. He had been busy with the ball, and hadn't noticed your sour mood. He was all smiles, telling you how beautiful you would look in your dress, and how proud he was to have you by his side. He was dressed impeccably as always, and you felt frumpy and out of place. How could you possibly look good next to him?

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied in a small voice, not wanting to burden him with your troubles.

You walked downstairs and the guests began to arrive, all the while Elijah's hand rested on the small of your back. He left you to go greet some guests and you spotted Klaus. He grinned and you saw the flash of his dimples as he made his way over to you. You knew he was going to make a comment, you dreaded hearing what it was going to be.

"Hello, little cherub," he smirked, and your heart sank.

"Please don't call me that," you whispered, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress.

"Why ever not? You do look like one," he said, his eyes roaming your body.

"Klaus, stop it," you warned, not wanting to deal with his teasing.

"My brother certainly does seem fond of you, which is odd, considering his type usually looks more like..." he gestured to Hayley, who was across the room talking with Elijah.

You frowned, trying to swallow the insecurity bubbling up, but Klaus still noticed, "Did I hit a nerve?"

"No, why would you?" you lied, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't be too upset, cherub, you may not be his usual type, but he seems to enjoy the extra cushion."

His words hit like a punch to the gut. You couldn't believe he would say something like that. It was true that Elijah was quite fit and lean, while you were much softer and thicker. It made you insecure and now that he pointed it out, it felt even worse. You looked over at Elijah, who was talking to Hayley, they looked so good together, she was a perfect match for him.

"You really are an ass," you told him.

He chuckled and said, "I never said it was a bad thing, I think you are rather lovely,"

Elijah glanced up and saw the distress on your face. He immediately excused himself from his conversation and came to you. He could tell that something was bothering you.

"What did you do?" he asked Klaus.

"Me? Nothing," Klaus shrugged. "I was just complimenting your lovely companion," he continued, smirking at you.

Elijah's attention was on you now, he knew something was wrong. His brow furrowed, he could sense your anguish. But before he could say anything Hayley joined the group, her eyes moving from Klaus, to Elijah, and then settling on you.

"Oh, hello," she said, trying to sound friendly.

You nodded politely, not wanting to be impolite, despite the way her presence made you feel. It wasn't her fault, she had no idea you felt this way.

Elijah's hand brushed over the small of your back, trying to comfort you. He didn't realize it, but his touch was having the opposite effect, it was making you even more self conscious. Did he feel obligated to touch you like that? Did he do it for show? Was he just being polite? Your brain was coming up with every reason possible to feel terrible.

You didn't know how much longer you could stay here, watching them, surrounded by a sea of beautiful people, feeling more alone than ever.

You looked over at Elijah, and saw him gazing at you. His eyes were filled with adoration, but it was hard for you to believe it. The voice in your head kept repeating, that Klaus was right, he doesn't really love you, he's just too polite to say anything.

"I was hoping to get a proper tour of the house," Hayley said, interrupting your thoughts, "I've never seen the upstairs rooms, will you show me y/n?"

The question caught you off guard, you had no interest in spending time with her, and it felt like she was just being polite. You wanted to say no, but that would have been rude. So instead you smiled and nodded, following her out of the ballroom and into the hall.

You led her upstairs and she stopped, her eyes scanning the pictures on the wall. Her fingers gently brushed over the frames, and she pointed out an old portrait of the Mikaelson Family.

"God, they are all so beautiful," she sighed, and you knew she was right. Rebekah was stunning, Klaus had a wild, handsome charm, and Elijah was a classic, elegant beauty. They were all perfection, and you had no idea what they were doing with you.

"Is that Freya?" she asked, pointing at another portrait, "she's stunning,"

You nodded, feeling awkward. This was the last place you wanted to be.

Hayley smiled, turning her attention back to the wall, and continued walking. You trailed behind, feeling out of place, and unsure of what to say. Hayley stopped in front of a particular painting, a portrait of you and Elijah. She smiled, and you felt your heart skip, it was your favorite portrait of the two of you.

"You two look so in love," she said, and your stomach twisted.

"Yes, we are," you replied, trying to sound sincere, when really all you wanted to do was cry.

"How did the two of you meet?" she asked.

"He turned me in the 16th century, I was his seamstress," you explained, smiling a little.

Hayley looked at you with surprise, her eyebrows raised, "You fixed up his suits?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly wearing suits back then, but he's always been very fashionable. He liked the way I stitched his shirts," you told her.

"How fast did you two fall in love?"

You bit your lip, and answered, "Well, he persued me for quite a while before I agreed to be with him,"

"Why? Were you scared?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.

"No, not exactly," you blushed, looking down at the floor.

"Well, what was it?" she asked, genuinely curious.

You gave Hayley a skeptical look, women that looked like her never thought about these kinds of things.

"I mean, he's so gorgeous, and I'm..."

You looked down at your body, your mind conjuring up a list of flaws. Hayley could see the change in your demeanor, she could sense your discomfort. She stepped closer, her hands coming to rest on your arms.

"There's nothing wrong with you, I think you're pretty," she smiled, her hands giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

Your eyes darted to the floor, and you felt the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Thank you, Hayley," you murmured.

"And Elijah thinks the same thing, I've seen the way he looks at you," she added, her voice taking on a more serious tone.

You glanced up and saw the truth in her eyes, there was a softness, and a hint of jealousy.

"Thank you," you said, a blush rising on your cheeks.

"Of course," she smiled, "I hope I can find a man who looks at me the way Elijah looks at you,"

The words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "How does he look at me?"

"Like you are the most beautiful thing in the world," she replied, and her voice sounded wistful.

She turned her gaze to the portraits and continued her exploration. You followed, and as you got closer to the end, Hayley paused, her gaze lingering on the portrait of Klaus.

"I hope our child has his dimples," she sighed.

"And not his ego," you teased, and her face split into a grin.

"That's fair," she laughed, her hand falling on the slight bump of her belly.

You continued your tour of the house, showing her the rest of the rooms, and trying to keep the conversation light. Hayley was kind, and didn't seem to notice your discomfort. When you returned to the ballroom, Elijah was standing with his brother, their heads bowed together, discussing something. He looked up when he saw you and his lips curled into a smile.

Hayley's eyes flicked to Elijah and then back to you, "See, there it is, that look,"

You blushed, and turned your head away. Elijah looked at you with love and affection, but your doubts still lingered.

"Did you enjoy the tour with the little cherub?" Klaus asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

Hayley gave him a warning look, her voice laced with an unspoken threat, "Don't call her that,"

Klaus held his hands up in surrender, but the damage was done, you felt so humilated and embarrassed, you had enough of Klaus and his cruel comments. You had enough of him constantly making you feel bad about yourself. He made it impossible for you to feel secure in your relationship. You felt uncomfortable in your dress, in your own skin, surrounded by people who were objectively better than you in every possible way.

"I'm going to bed," you announced, your voice quiet.

Elijah's brow furrowed, and he reached out to grasp your hand but you pulled away.

"I'm tired," you said, turning on your heel and marching out of the ballroom.

Elijah's eyes were locked on your retreating form, a frown on his face.

"Why did you call her that?" Elijah asked his brother.

"It's nothing," Klaus shrugged, a grin spreading across his face, "she's just a little sensitive,"

Elijah's frown deepened, and he glanced over at Hayley.

"She's a sweet girl, just a little insecure," Hayley sighed.

"Insecure about what?" Elijah asked.

Hayley glanced at Klaus, and he shrugged.

"She's just not really comfortable with herself," Hayley finally said, giving Klaus a pointed look.

He had no shame, his grin only grew wider, and he said, "Come on, she is rather plump, isn't she?"

"But she's so sweet and adorable," Hayley added, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

Elijah's jaw tightened, and his expression darkened, he looked back and forth between both of them.

"You had no right to say those things to her," he told Klaus, his voice laced with anger. "She has a difficult time when it comes to seeing her own worth, you know that, she's been struggling with these issues since the day we met," Elijah continued.

"It's nothing, Elijah," Klaus shrugged, "she'll get over it, she's probably crying into her pillow right now."

The image of you, curled up in bed, sobbing, broke Elijah's heart. He clenched his fists and his eyes narrowed. Klaus really did go too far this time, he really upset you. Elijah would make sure it never happened again.

"Excuse me," he muttered, glaring at his brother before turning around and storming out of the ballroom.

Once you were safely locked away in your bedroom, you sobbed, and the tears wouldn't stop. You had done your best not to show anyone your jealousy and anger, but now everyone knew how pathetic and insecure you really were.

You didn't hear the door open or close, you didn't know Elijah was in the room until his arms were around you, holding you tight against his chest. He didn't speak, and he didn't make you look at him. He simply held you and let you cry until you had no tears left.

Once your sobs had subsided he tilted your head up and kissed your cheeks, catching every stray tear with his lips. He wiped the rest away with his thumb, his dark eyes were filled with worry.

"What happened, love?" he asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

You looked at him, feeling foolish and embarrassed. He had no idea you had been feeling this way. No one did, but now it was too late. You took a deep breath and forced the words out.

"What is it that you see in me?" you blurted out, your face red.

Elijah frowned, looking completely taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You sighed, frustrated with his cluelessness. "I mean, look at me! I'm not exactly a supermodel."

Elijah chuckled and cupped your cheek, his hand was so warm and soft. "I'm looking," he said, his gaze raked over you and it made you blush.

"I don't understand," he continued, looking into your eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

You huffed and tried to look away, but he held your chin. "I am serious. Why would you ever doubt my attraction to you?"

You bit your lip, still not sure if you should tell him the truth. "It's just...Hayley is so gorgeous, and tall and thin. Then Klaus just calls me your cherub, like I'm some stupid child."

Elijah's gaze softened and he shook his head. "Darling, Klaus was trying to get a rise out of you, don't let him get in your head."

"But he's right... Look at me, compared to her, and Klaus, and the rest of your family. I'm not even that attractive," you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Elijah frowned and took your hand, placing it on his chest. "Can you feel that?"

You nodded, your hand could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart.

"It's yours," he said softly.

He kissed you, and your heart fluttered, feeling lighter already. His hands slid down your back and gripped your ass, he pulled you closer and you gasped. His tongue slipped into your mouth and teased yours, tasting you.

His hand moved lower and he pulled your dress up, his fingers trailed over the lace of your panties, feeling the warmth and wetness.

"I will tell you this once," he whispered, his teeth grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You are perfect."

His hand dipped into your panties and stroked you, making you moan. "So wet, all for me."

You gasped and pressed your face against his shoulder.

"Tell me who this belongs to," he demanded.

"You, Elijah, it's yours," you whimpered, grinding against his fingers.

"Yes, that's right," he purred. "This sweet, little cunt is mine. Only mine."

He pushed you onto the bed and pulled your dress over your head. He groaned when he saw you wearing the matching set of black, lacy bra and panties.

He started kissing and marking his way down your body, starting at your neck and moving lower, biting and sucking as he went. You gasped and moaned as he reached your breasts. He undid the front clasp and licked a stripe up the middle, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, and teasing the other with his fingers.

"These are so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, sucking until they were hard peaks. "So big and soft," he hummed.

You ran your fingers through his hair, needing something to hold onto. You whimpered and arched up against him, the feeling of his hot mouth was driving you insane.

You squealed and tugged on his hair a little harder when you felt him bite down. He chuckled and sucked hard, letting your breasts go with a loud pop. They were covered in rapidly healing hickeys, and he looked very pleased with himself.

He kissed down your stomach, admiring your soft belly. He cupped it, and squeezed your thighs, making you gasp.

"My perfect girl," he mumbled against your hips.

He hooked his thumbs into your panties and slid them down your legs, you sat up on your elbows to see what he was doing.

He slid them off and leaned down, kissing and sucking on your inner thighs.

"These perfect thighs, squeezing my head when you cum on my tongue," he said, his stubble scratched and tickled you. You let out a breathy giggle as his hands roamed your body, gripping your waist and thighs. He growled with satisfaction, biting the flesh and sucking marks into your soft skin.

"Elijah, stop teasing," you groaned, becoming impatient.

He chuckled and suddenly pulled you into his lap. He held you close and looked into your eyes.

"I love every bit of your body," he hummed, holding you firmly against him. "Every perfect curve, and every soft inch.”

He gave your tummy a small squeeze and kissed your pouting lips. "You are so beautiful," he whispered.

You blushed and avoided his gaze. He cupped your cheek and tilted your head up, his fingers traced your features, his gaze was filled with adoration.

"Those beautiful lips, those gorgeous eyes, these perfect cheeks, your soft, little nose," he cooed, kissing your face between each word.

You giggled and tried to hide your face in your hands, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"And this ass," he said as he kneaded the flesh, he lifted you up and smacked it, making you yelp. "It should be in the Louvre."

He kissed you again and slowly grinded against you, his hands explored your body, caressing and squeezing.

He scooted down the bed and laid back down, looking up at you with a wicked grin. He kept his gaze locked with yours as he pushed your ass forward, signaling he wanted you to sit on his face.

"Elijah, no, I-," you gasped, completely embarrassed. You felt so shy and nervous, not wanting him to look at you up close like that.

Elijah sat up and kissed you. "Do you think you will hurt me?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"No," you breathed.

"Then what's the problem?" He asked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek.

You let out a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I don't know."

Elijah looked into your eyes, a kind smile on his lips. "If it kills me, you have discovered quite a loophole when it comes to killing an original," he said, gesturing to his face and grinning.

You giggled and pecked his lips. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself, it was hard to explain your nerves. You'd been intimate with Elijah before, more times than you could count, but you couldn't shake your insecurities.

Elijah sensed your hesitation, he kissed your neck softly and leaned up to whisper in your ear. "Please sit on my face, I want to eat your sweet pussy until you scream."

His filthy words made you shudder and you knew you wouldn't be able to say no, so you bit your lip and took a deep breath.

"Okay," you whispered.

Elijah laid back down and gave your hips a gentle tug, pulling you into position.

Your entire body went hot when he spread your thighs apart. He kissed the insides, making you moan.

"There's a good girl," he hummed as his lips danced across your hot skin. He positioned you over his face and you could feel his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area.

He looked up at you and gave you an encouraging smile. "Sit,"

You bit your lip, but slowly lowered yourself down, inch by inch. He grabbed your ass and pulled you down fast, making you let out a squeak of surprise.

The heat pooled between your thighs as Elijah nosed at your center, teasing the soft skin. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, rocking against him.

You felt a sudden sting as he nipped your thigh. "Stay still, let me do the work."

He licked a stripe up your core, groaning as he tasted you. He spread you open with his fingers, pressing his tongue flat against you, he licked long and slow. He buried his face deeper, lapping and sucking at your clit.

He licked and sucked and kissed, moaning against your soaked cunt. Your eyes rolled back, you tightened your grip on his hair and cried out. The noises he made were obscene, you could hear his mouth sucking at you, and it only made you wetter.

He looked up at you, his dark hair was a mess and his lips were covered in your slick.

"You taste divine, my love," he groaned. "So sweet, just for me."

He sucked hard on your clit, his hand reaching around and grabbing your ass roughly, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh. He growled and began fucking you with his tongue. His hands spreading you open and pressing his face as deep as possible. He buried himself in your pussy, licking, and sucking like it was his last meal. You came hard on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head tight as you fell apart.

He soothed your flushed skin with his tongue, sucking on your clit once more, making you twitch. You tugged on his hair, gently pulling him away, not able to take the overstimulation.

You moved back and sat on his chest, trying to catch your breath. Elijah caught your wrist and brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. He was covered in your wetness, and his chin was glistening. He grinned at you, completely satisfied with himself.

You snorted and leaned down, kissing him softly. You hummed, tasting yourself on his tongue.

Elijah rolled you onto your back and pinned your wrists above your head. He pressed his forehead against yours, smiling as you stared at him with a blissful, dazed expression.

"You are so perfect," he breathed, nuzzling his nose against yours.

He kissed down the side of your face and nibbled on your ear, his free hand trailing down your body, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh of your breasts, your hips, your thighs.

"Every inch of you," he whispered.

"Elijah," you sighed, blushing from the attention.

Elijah hummed and reached down to his pants, undoing his belt and pushing them down his legs. You reached up and helped him undress, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

You pulled him close and kissed him, wrapping your arms and legs around him. You could feel him pressed against you, his thick cock hot and heavy against your thigh.

"Look at what you do to me," he purred, kissing down your neck.

He reached down and guided himself to your entrance, rubbing the head against you. He slid inside easily, your body opening up for him.

He rocked his hips slowly, grinding his pelvis against yours, making you moan and grip his shoulders tight.

His eyes locked with yours as he fucked you slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails leaving marks on his skin.

"You see how perfectly we fit?" He groaned, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. "Look at us,"

You both looked down, watching as he thrusted in and out of you, his slick cock disappearing into your body.

"My love, my beautiful girl," he moaned, his voice thick with emotion. "I need you to understand, no one else will ever come close to comparing. You are everything to me."

He buried his face in your neck and kissed and nipped the soft skin. "This perfect body, your heart, your soul, I will never find anyone like you."

You whined and clawed at his back, you could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, you were overwhelmed and so grateful.

"I love you," you choked out, burying your face in his shoulder.

"And I love you," he breathed.

He held you close and fucked you until you were trembling, tears streaming down your cheeks, clinging to him as you climaxed, shaking and crying his name.

He finished not long after, groaning and gasping as he spilled his release inside you, holding you tight.

You both laid there, panting and covered in sweat. You felt light and dizzy, your muscles felt like jelly and it took all your strength to not fall asleep right then and there.

"I want you to know, I mean every word I say to you," Elijah said quietly, kissing your temple.

"I know, Elijah," you hummed, smiling up at him. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Always."

"And Elijah?" You smiled and nuzzled his neck.

"Yes, my love?"

"I think your ass is the one that should be in the Louvre."

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson smut #hayley marshall #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

418 notes · View notes

byeol-ssi · 1 year

Text

nothing more, nothing less

Kaz Brekker was acquainted with different monsters. Those wrapped in expensive silk and bathed in sickening perfume. Those who spouted beautiful lies, enticing unwitting men into their dens. Those with hands stained crimson, preying on children and fools alike. His reflection on a mirror.

But the green-eyed beast proved to be a terrifying match.

Or, Kaz gets jealous.

✦ kaz brekker x gn!reader | grishaverse

✦ tags: jealous kaz, lieutenant!reader, (kind of?) enemies to lovers, set sometime after the events of crooked kingdom

"Brekker."

"Darling," KAZ drawled without looking up at your arrival, his tone more mocking than affectionate. "You're two bells late. Do you have the—"

A roll of parchment zipped through the air, landing in the middle of his desk with startling accuracy and ruining the neatly arranged blueprints spread atop it.

"I told you to quit calling me that," you muttered darkly. "One of these days, I'll really cut off your tongue."

He huffed, concealing his amusement. He enjoyed calling you all sorts of endearments after discovering how easily they riled you up.

There are times when Kaz allowed himself to feel, to act, like a boy again. Reconcile with a distant past, one that echoed Jordie's voice and carried the smell of fresh grass.

This was one of them. Similar to a child, Kaz reveled in your attention. Regardless if they came as threats, insults, or downright disdain.

He'd swallow a bullet first than ever admit it, though.

"How terrifying," he said, unfazed, and made swift work of straightening out the floor plan you brought him.

Silence fell, interrupted only by the soft shuffling of papers. From the corner of his eye, he noticed you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Normally, Kaz would come up with some sort of excuse to make you stay, but it seemed that something was on your mind.

And so, he waited.

You cleared your throat. "Do you need anything else?"

No, but thank you. You did well. Please, get some rest, his thoughts supplied. He ignored them. Instead, he simply settled on, "No."

His movements stilled. The question was unusual, especially coming from you.

"Nothing more, nothing less," you had once told him, seated on the ledge of a stadwatch tower that overlooked Ketterdam's shores. He'd nodded in agreement back then, mesmerized by the early sunlight that caressed your face.

You lived by the old saying for as long as Kaz has known you. After all, when you grew up in the Barrel, you'd learned early on that acting out of the goodness of one's heart only left a person broken. Penniless. Or worse, dead.

As such, you weren't the type to seek additional assignments without an offer beforehand. The fact that you had gone out of your way to ask was... suspicious.

His eyes finally flicked to yours. He could never afford to look at you for too long, as it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stop once he started.

He cocked his head to the side and searched your gaze. "Why?"

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. He rarely indulged you in idle conversation or pried into your affairs.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Because despite everything you've been through together, this was the nature of your relationship too. Neither of you tried to change it, even after every scar he unraveled and laid at your feet.

Even after numerous nights spent confined in his office, shoulders almost, but never brushing one another as you pored over schemes for hours.

Even after repeatedly saving each other's necks and during the intimate silences that followed when the adrenaline wore off. Moments taut with charged tension, heaving breaths, and unspoken truths.

"I've got plans," you explained rather cryptically.

"Plans? Has someone else hired you for a job? I hope you don't forget that you belong to—"

"No, someone asked me out on a date."

Me, insisted the voice in his head, rich with desperation. You belong to me.

Kaz scoffed in disbelief. "A date? In Ketterdam?"

Fear clawed its way up his throat, determined to make itself known. It warred with another emotion he was too proud to name.

This... feeling was absurd. Sentimental. Kaz was no stranger to loss.

The seas granted Inej her freedom. A new chapter awaited Jesper and Wylan. Nina stumbled upon a second chance at love. Matthias found peace.

Yet, deep down, each farewell left him a little more empty than the last.

You were bound to Ketterdam only by virtue of being the Dreg's sole lieutenant. In truth, nothing else was preventing you from leaving.

Leaving him.

After promoting you, a tiny seed of guilt buried itself in his cold, wretched heart when he realized he held you back. That he never gave you the opportunity to pursue your dreams. Your position forced you to assume several roles, to fill in the shoes the others had given up.

But his greed outweighed his guilt and Kaz was a selfish man indeed.

The mere idea that someone could whisk you away from him brought forth a hateful bitterness from within.

"Where is the unfortunate fellow taking you?" he asked, keeping his voice deceptively calm.

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the jibe. "It's a quaint little bar called 'none of your business.'"

Nothing more, nothing less. The phrase taunted him now. The green-eyed monster inside him rattled his ribcage ferociously, driving him to boast.

He curled his fingers around the desk's edge tightly. "Funny. I run the entirety of the Barrel, and I don't recall an establishment operating under that name."

"I'll have you know that he actually owns the place he's bringing me to," you snapped defensively.

Good, good. More information.

"And how long have you known each other?"

You shrugged. "A few weeks."

The answer relieved him somewhat. His possessiveness ebbs, its rhythm steady, before it swelled again, rising with the current of his emotions. One should always be more sure of everything. He'd learned that the hard way.

"And he's aware of who you truly are?" Kaz pressed on. "Of what you do?"

There were only a handful of possibilities. The person could have ulterior motives for approaching you. It wasn't unlikely, considering your power was only second to his.

Perhaps it was a spiteful soul he'd wronged, plotting to take advantage of you and get revenge on him.

On the other hand, there was also a chance that they weren't privy to your true identity. He couldn't blame anyone for wanting you but it was common knowledge whispered in the streets that Kaz Brekker was a man unwilling to share.

Anyone who didn't heed that advice and went against it anyway was just recklessly bold. Or stupid. The Barrel never seemed to run out of those.

This time, you broke away from his gaze. "It doesn't matter." You sniffed, feigning indifference.

The person didn't know then, he surmised. You probably met him during one of your undercover assignments, disguised and masquerading around with an alias.

Sensing his disapproval, you attempted to defend your date-to-be by adding, "He's kind. Sweet. Honest."

Everything he was not. The words, sharp as glass, ripped him apart. Crushed him with an overwhelming weight of sorrow.

"It seems naive of you to form an impression of him in such a short amount of time," he said through gritted teeth.

Pretending as if he didn't care should have been easy for him. Right now, all his years of experience in perfecting that charade were useless.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is cynical and distrusting of the world like you. People can be good, Brekker."

And you deserved everything good and more. Better people could love you, he knew.

Someone who would not flinch every time you drew near. Someone who would freely kiss away your every fear.

Kaz had survived gunshots. Knife wounds. Sickness, nightmares, and grief. But the very thought of someone else soaking in your warmth was an ache he could not bear.

He felt the words scorching his tongue, his demons voicing them with unbridled cruelty. "There is a difference between being cautious and acting like a love-sick fool!"

Your eyes widened in shock, hardening in anger a second later; then they softened with disappointment, and all Kaz could see was the reflection of himself, a frenzied animal. A blown fuse. Inhumanely hollow.

He opened his mouth to speak, beg for your forgiveness, but you had already turned and walked away.

"I'll come back when you aren't hissing at me like a wet cat," you said, slamming the door behind you.

Kaz clenched his gloved hands into aching fists and hung his head, trying not to think of how jealous the idea of another man made him.

He wasn't too late. Dealing with his emotions was uncharted territory for him but scheming came as effortlessly as he breathed.

Kaz never lost a fight and he wasn't about to start now. Even if he needed to play dirty. His greed outweighed his guilt and he wasn't called Dirtyhands for nothing.

"Brekker!"

Kaz had just finished speaking with another gang member, Roeder, when he heard the heavy stomp of your footsteps, followed by the frustrated yell of his name. You appeared on the stairway landing soon after, rage thundering in your wake.

"You're dismissed." Kaz waved to Roeder. His eyes shifted to you momentarily and cast Kaz a wary glance. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, he scurried off, slipping past the both of you.

Kaz began to ascend the stairs, you trailing behind him. He could sense that you were shooting daggers at the back of his head, probably cursing him out silently.

"You're back early," he finally said once you entered his office. He circled back to the same place you'd left him hours earlier and sat in his chair. "How'd the date go?"

You stormed closer, wedging yourself between him and the desk, stopping him from hiding behind the pretense of work.

"You know exactly how it went," you snarled.

In spite of your anger, you remembered to maintain your distance. Not once have you commented on his aversion to skin-to-skin contact, though he was certain you harbored your own questions.

"I'm afraid I don't, darling." He raised his chin to hold your gaze, his expression carefully blank. A tailored mask. "I wasn't there."

"You had him taken by the Dregs." The hurt on your face was unmistakable, enough for Kaz to feel a tad remorseful.

It was hardly sufficient, though. Screw righteousness, old habits die hard. "Ah, I had no idea he was your date," he lied again.

"Bullshit."

"But, what I do know is that he laundered money from our coffers and forced children into building the same tavern you were just in."

Kaz went over records of the jobs you'd accomplished in the last two months. After connecting the dots, he successfully identified your date and paid Roeder to look into his background. It was pure luck that the man was a merchant who managed to con Kaz's old boss.

Pulling the strings for his capture was practically child's play. Not that he'd ever tell you that.

Your fury dissipated, replaced by defeat that slumped your shoulders. "You were right," you said quietly, avoiding his eye once more. "I'm sorry."

Kaz rose from his chair and stepped forward. Taken by surprise, you backed away instinctively, only to find yourself trapped by the desk now digging into your hip.

"Let me make it up to you," he spoke with an unfamiliar softness. It almost sounded wrong.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?"

"I ruined your evening. I could have ordered the others to seize him after you finished dinner."

But I didn't want him to walk you home. Wrap his coat around your shoulders. Kiss you goodnight at the Slat's doorstep. Kaz would've probably loaded his pistol at the sight. Broken every limb that touched you with his cane.

You snorted. "Okay. Are you going to give me whatever we steal next? Increase my cut?"

"No, although we can discuss it another time. I'm inviting you out on a date."

You blinked once. Twice. Slowly, you said, "Brekker, you ask someone out when you like them."

His lips pulled into the slightest frown, mildly impatient. "I know."

"You don't like me."

"Whoever put that silly idea in your head?"

"You did. You don't like anyone."

"I may not be the best at showing it, but you know that there are exceptions to that rule," he argued. "Especially when it comes to you."

He continued to lean over you, ignoring the pressure of panic beating against the walls of his chest from the proximity.

"You called me an idiot," you countered. You refused to move a muscle, most likely out of consideration for him, but he closed the distance himself.

He dipped his head further. "Again, I never said that."

"Fine," you conceded, sounding fond. "You implied that I was an idiot."

"I'll be kinder from now on," he promised. "I can try to be sweet, if you give me time and chance to learn. And I'm being honest right now."

Nothing he could do would ever atone for his sins. But although he was renowned as the Bastard of the Barrel, he was prepared to do it right by you.

Hesitantly, you raised a hand. Every inch of his flesh wanted to turn itself inside out, but every bone in his body yearned for your touch.

A quivering sigh escaped his throat as you reached for his cheek, your fingers warm and gentle on his skin.

He braced himself for the familiar scent of death. The ocean. He willed himself to focus on the details that made your face. The line of your jaw to your ear. The slope of your nose. The curve of your lips, hanging onto them as if his life depended on it.

It did, in a way.

"Your answer?" he rasped, suppressing a shiver.

You dragged your thumb against his skin in a delicate but paralyzingly manner and whispered, "I accept."

He had never been held with such tenderness before. Your touch made him feel like he was somewhere else, far from the memories that haunted him.

Growing concerned, you attempted to withdraw your hand but Kaz grasped your wrist before you fully could. He steadied himself with your pulse, each beat, each hymn, anchoring him to the present.

He was here. With you. In his office. Nothing in the world could hurt him.

Eventually, he slid his own gloved hand so that your palms pressed together. Your lashes fluttered and you asked, "Is this really happening? Are we really going on a date?"

He hummed in affirmation. "And I'll do it properly."

Seriously, who in their right mind would bring you to that side of Ketterdam? He took the sealed envelope containing your dinner reservation from inside his coat and handed it to you.

"Thank you." Your mouth curved into a shy smile. "And for the record... you don't have to be anything else other than yourself."

"Ruthless, callous, and dishonest cheat?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, betraying his attempted nonchalance. It was a question hauled from the inner depths of his soul, the boy inside him who wondered if he could ever be worthy of love.

"You forgot insufferable," you teased, although your earnest gaze belied the lightness of your tone. He knew you could see right through him. "But, yes. Just you, Kaz. Nothing more. Nothing less."

At that moment, Kaz knew you would be his salvation and destruction. You could shatter his heart and every single piece would still cry out for your name.

He squeezed your hand. Soon, he'll make you, and everyone else in the Barrel, realize that he had no intentions of ever letting you go.

✦ byeol’s notes: new year, new fandom ?!

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you so, so much in advance! <3

3K notes · View notes