#ix x reader
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SO UHHHHH- Beware the darker themes ahead. I know people were probably expecting more smut from me, but I find it hard to write smut for the Aeons??? Who even knows how that would actually work-
Anyways sorry for the lack of smut. OTL
I will feed y’all some good Geppie smut later!
GN reader
CW: mentions of death, permanent maiming, breaking bones, sadistic and obsessive tendencies, loss of self
Lemme know if I missed anything. T-T
I didn’t really get into it as much as I could have, so I don’t think it’s too bad. But still read that CW, please-
When it comes to the Aeons, I refuse to believe that they understand human conventions, morals, or ways of love. I think that with them, it's very easy for them to be a yandere??? Sorta?
Once they are interested in you, they won't immediately take you. They'll likely observe you, being interested in figuring out what it is that had them interested in you in the first place.
But slowly they become more convinced that you are someone they want to keep by their side.
Once they've decided that you should stay by their side, they'd likely kidnap you???
And I feel like as an Aeon who doesn't empathize with human emotions just has to keep you because you make them feel something truly novel- Is this that "love" that they always heard those humans talk about? That thing that they strive for yet the Aeons couldn't possibly hope to understand? So no matter how far you try to run, they'll find you.
Yaoshi
With this particular Aeon, I can see their love being one that is harmful for humans no matter how sweetly they put it.
They don't understand why you don't want the protection of their path and the blessing of everlasting life they can give you. :((
At some point, they'll likely give you the curse of mara, turning you into something you aren't. It's all because they love you and can't bear to see your mortal form crumble to nothing over the years and your life come to an end. They just couldn't accept that. So one day they tell you sweetly to close your eyes because they have a gift for you. One that you can keep... forever.
They understands that it will hurt. Yes. They understand that you'll lose your humanity and really your sense of being- But that's okay! They can take care of you. They'll never let you feel pain or suffering after this moment. You'll just have to take this moment of pain to have an eternity with them. Okay? :))
Honestly I can't really see why any of the Aeons would keep a human or other mortal around when what they pursue is something that mortal minds cannot truly fathom. Like with Nanook....
Nanook
(Disclaimer: what I said with Yaoshi? Y e a h - THIS ONE IS DEFINITELY HARMFUL TO HUMANS AND IT’S NOT EVEN PUT IN A SWEET WAY LIKE WITH YAOSHI.)
They are literally seeking the destruction of all things. Those who follow the Path of Destruction even sacrifice their own health and bodies in order to gain power in battle. The Path of the Destruction is one that seeks the end of all things. But maybe there's a slim chance that despite seeking to destroy all creation, they would find you oddly charming. A cute little thing that they cannot seem to take their eyes away from. Somehow, to them, you are just as beautiful as the fiery destruction they seek to bring to the universe.
Obsessively watching you and doing whatever they please to you. Keeping you close at all times, trapped in their embrace as though their hands were a living cage. Again- No matter where you run, no matter where you hide… they’ll find you. Their love is also Very Harmful to Humans TM. Holds you far too tight without really realizing it. But if you try to pry their large fingers off or you squirm too much… they only squeeze harder. To the point that you feel your skin bruising, flesh becoming sore and your very bones creaking. If you actually manage to get away from them somehow, I’m not sure what will happen to you. Not to mention the fact that it will be very VERY hard to run once you’ve escaped. Aeons can probably traverse the universe at speeds unfathomable. And their piercing gazes leave no stone unturned. How could you hope to hide from such all-seeing eyes? How can you hide from an Aeon? Once they’ve caught you again… you probably aren’t getting away. They may break you a bit. Juuust a but. Enough to discourage a second escape attempt- And maybe even enough to make that second attempt impossible. You don’t really need to walk if they’re always holding you, right? Maybe if they… break your legs? Careful you don’t anger them any more than that- Paralysis from the waist down is also a dangerous, but possible option. You may be broken after that, but they’re the Aeon of Destruction. You’ll be beautiful to them even broken. :))
At some point, if this was you second attempt and you’re somehow able to get away without them breaking your legs- Or hell maybe they did but you are just stubborn enough to devise a way to run away again (though likely not on those twisted legs of yours). Point is- If this is not your first attempt at escape, it’s likely that word of what happened the first time has spread. I doubt there’d be a planet in the galaxy willing to harbor you when Nanook could easily raze their cities to the ground and destroy the very planet they live on.
Nanook is the Most Dangerous of the Aeons to catch the attention of. Because I think with them, the most realistic thing would be that you are always one wrong step away from becoming a beautifully broken thing. The grand and beautiful destruction this Aeon sought. For what greater love is there than making you an example of their reason for being, right? Right? :)))
Or maybe it’s because they cannot be bothered with you if you become too much of a hassle even if they fancy you. I’m not really sure how Aeons really work, soooo…. I’d honestly be careful around this one… Even though I’m sure most would be considering their intimidating stature and nature.
Lan
I wonder if Lan would find it fun to let you think you’d escaped them only to hunt you down. I mean. They are the Aeon of the Hunt. Yes that means more than just that, but. I can see it. Some sort of sadistic glee they have in the fear in your eyes, the pounding in your heart, and the panicked breaths you take when realizing they’ve found you again. But they’d never hurt you! No, no, no- They certainly wouldn’t… Right?
IX
I don’t think there’d be any getting away from the Aeon of Nihility. 💀
I mean- Considering what happened in the Simulated Universe when meeting IX, I think you know why. I don’t know too much about them and no longer have many spoons for this so ye.
Maybe will write more about the Aeons later.
Sorry for any wack writing and typos it’s ass o’clock and it’s time for my eepy ass to go mimimimimimi- Might fix it eventually if I catch it.
#Roro writes#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#aeon#aeons#hsr aeons#aeons x reader#yaoshi x reader#nanook x reader#lan x reader#ix x reader#wowie am I the first to tage that???#i didn’t really write JACK DIDDLY for them so oops#gn reader#dark themes#i could have gotten into it but but decided to Not do that#i wanna talk about geppie so bad so whoopsie#mention of#reader death#mention of death#READ THE TAGS AND CW THIS ISN’T MY NORMAL WHOREKNEE TEEHEE HAHA SMUT#IT’S NOT SMUT AT ALL#help i-#this was not what i was originally gonna do
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I saw that you need ideas, so how about a yandere from the Neons? I mean, I would like to see more content from them since they represent the elements in Honkai star rail, by the way, sorry if you don't understand, my English is bad... I leave you a little drawing of a masculine makima (it has nothing to do with it, but as a gift ) xd Also, I don't know if I'm the only one, but Nanook makes me handsome >///<
(Sorry, I had already finished it but the work was stained hahaha and I did it again)
Yus the Aeons are so cool looking!! You really feel like they’re actual gods of the universe, especially since you don’t see them first hand (at least for now). Also Masculine Makima reminds me of Karma Akabane lol. I’ll draw it in my style, and add it here as an extra for you ♥️
Hb we mash those two topics up together actually?
warnings: mild yandere themes. mild spoilers for csm. major canon divergence. reader takes the shape of a masc/amab character but it isnt their original form.
status: unedited. updated art.
YANDERE! AEONS + VARIOUS! HSR x AEON OF FEAR/CONTROL! READER
You have no memory of your conception, only that you started existing for what felt like an eternity.
You represented fear and despair, but unlike IX whose mere presence drove humanity into insanity, or the rest of your fellow aeon’s godlike status amongst the world,
you walked around as a normal, ordinary human being.
As normal as an Aeon can get anyways.
In your current lifetime, you took the shape of Himeko’s “brother”, planting fake memories into her mind and being the one that urged her to travel the stars. While she was the navigator, you took the role of conductor before creating Pompom to supplant you.
Welt always knew you weren’t just a regular person. Your eyes always felt distant, so far off that not even a century’s worth of trail blazing would allow him to come close. As such he mostly kept cordial relations with you.
The youngsters of the bunch on the other hand, never seemed to realize the sheer magnanimity of the danger you held and always hung around you.
Particularly that Caelus. The newest addition to the crew. The stellaron within him always pulsed in some sort of giddiness and excitement whenever you were around. The boy couldn’t help but be a nervous wreck when he was around you. Stuttering and stumbling was a common occurrence whenever you so decide as to just breathe at his direction.
You knew what those Stellarons are, their nature, their purpose, the way they were created. In fact if you wanted to, you could have taken the Astral Express straight to the source of it all, your partner: Nanook.
However that would have ruined the fun of it all. So you chose to let them have their little adventures before the final confrontation.
Also because you signed a contract to not meddle with Nanook’s business in exchange for your freedom. But that was another story to tell.
“Why . . . why do you continue this farce? This utterly worthless play?”
IX’s voice rang within your ears and no one else’s. You were the only being it ever gave the time of day to. You imagine it to be the reason why insanity slowly built itself within the recesses of your head.
“You may see the entire universe as worthless . . . but I,” You breath hitched. You looked around your room. Time was frozen. Everything turned grey. You weren’t afraid of the others in the express hearing you, just that the following words you were about to spout out felt like bile on your mouth. “I suppose I’m still a bit like them in a way. I wish to see the world without its evils.”
“And destroying them. That is my first step.” You summon an orb of golden light. Stellarons. The creation of the very thing that made you loath all evil. Including yourself. You will eradicate these and then Nanook yourself. One day.
“Is that why you send those hunters out?”
“Perhaps.” The orb within your hands get covered in chains, quickly getting crushed within the metal like substance as it soon disappeared.
“Do as you wish. Just do not bother me like that imbecile.”
“I promise. I will be much worse than Yaoshi.”
IX remained silent for several seconds, no doubt regretting its decision of associating with you before adding, “. . . And do not die.”
“That one I cannot guarantee.”
Your room’s color returns, time continues. Signaling the end of two Aeons’ encounter.
Nanook, the Aeon that threatened to eradicate all that you love. All so they could have your soul once more. Within your gilded cage. Within your original body that lied dormant.
The Destruction will no longer be a path. That is a guarantee you write upon the stars when your Trail Blazing lifetime eventually comes to a close.
The stage is set, your actors ready.
All you needed was the cue.
Your gloved hand arose, pointing towards the express’s windows in the shape of a gun.
“Bang.”
#yandere#honkai star rail#chainsawman#hsr x csm#yandere x reader#yandere imagine#yandere fic#hsr x reader#caelus x reader#nanook x reader#ix x reader#aeon x reader#yandere nanook x reader#star rail#star rail x reader#honkai star rail x reader#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere aeons#yandere aeons honkai star rail
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✧ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴠᴏʏᴀɢᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙꜱᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ ɴɪʜɪʟɪᴛʏ✧
IX x reader
1k words
Ao3 version here
To repeat how and why you ended up in this position would be like trying to recant the story of several centuries of here and there, so at some point, you just let it go—let the words you had once told centuries ago washed away into the ever-flowing stream of the intergalactic void.
But as an emanator of the Nihility —perhaps this suits you best.
Today and yesterday and tomorrow and last year and a century have been blended together like an ever-growing vortex of void—at some point, nothing really matters that much, including your life story. Perhaps this is how IX feels, all the time. Maybe they were a breathtakingly beautiful creature that rivaled that of the Aeon of beauty and the abundance Yaoshi—but then they had touched the darkness that is the pit of this universe, and—and now they lost all those faces because it hardly ever mattered which form they took.
You understood you thought—as you have touched nihilism too. Or, to be accurate, IX has gazed upon you. Only those with an unrestrained arrogance dare to compare their plight to those with Aeonic status. But you thought, at the very least, you get a fraction of how they felt.
“Big or small, all things are touched by the same bottomless meaningless vortex,” Aeon of Nihility told you once, a fraction of truth is still truth nonetheless.
“Why are you planting seeds into the ground?” IX asked. Although their voice was low and acoustic; bouncing all over this fabricated dimension used for holding IX themselves when they went to sleep, you can feel the genuine curiosity behind those blob eyes of theirs.
“ Someone has said to me once that beautiful flowers help people get into a better mood,”
“ Maybe for mortals, but those tricks don't work on us who knows,” IX said. Even with a rather distant and monotone, there is a hint of somewhat concern.
“I know,” you said—your voice, too, was bouncing off the metaphorical wall. It created the signature acoustic sounds that, as you remember, were once disorienting when you first arrived here. Now? It would have been weird to not hear a slight echo in your or their voice.
You kneeled, the gray and tender sand soil you have gathered in your palm felt cold. It shines against the soft light emitting from the other side where IX was crawling opposing it. The light existed alongside the nihility, belonging to the Doctor of Chaos. “—You don’t have to be too worried. This is mostly for them,” when you continued speaking, the sand was allowed to slide past your hand—it flowed down, but immediately dissolved mid-air into nothingness.
“All things that exist would come to its conclusion. And all things exist for one single purpose; to exist, to continue to exist, and then struggle for that existence—against the unknown, against the others. Only when they no longer could stomach this any longer, shall they perish—left nothing behind,” the Nihility said, Their tone was rather melodic despite the absolutely horrifying speech they have given to you. Yet, it didn’t shake you. Perhaps, being their emanator has some interesting and useful additional benefits.
“I understand, and you are right more than wrong. Still, I plant this for them,”
“ If I am right, then who else is them ?”
“ Those who will walk this path, the same path that I did, and those who will receive that gaze of yours,” you said with an amused yet exhausted smile on your face.
“ No, no. There will be no others. You are selected, but there will be no more others. You are my first and the last emanator,” IX burst out—a rather strange demeanor from those who hold the status of an Aeon; but then again—we don’t really know all that much about Aeon after all. They almost sound anxious—almost but you just burst out laughing.
“Are…you laughing? At an Aeon..?”
“Who else would I be laughing at?”
“…why?” The aeon exclaimed with a voice filled with a hint of annoyance. You inhaled—trying your best to suppress the laugh that seemed to be indefinitely pouring out.
“You are wrong about most things, you were wrong then before you gazed upon me, and you’re wrong now that you assumed you won’t gaze at anyone again,” you said. Most of the dirt in your palm was already gone. Turn around to face your Aeon who, to best describe it—seems to be in absolute shock. Mortals or immortals with less significance do not challenge Aeon, and if they do it will be done not in such a flippancy like this. IX has faced hostility by mortals before by the name of ‘annihilation gangs’, it was…something for several seconds…and then they were nothing, swallowed whole by the crushing weight of nothingness. But—you are special, IX recognized that genes the Aeon’s gaze that craved a mental scar of nihility into your mind. Yet, uniqueness does not exempt you from absolute nothingness. In time, you will perish, and the millions of steps you have to take to be at this point will quickly be washed away by the current of time…and the ever-looming, uncaring silence of the universe. Like the dirt that no longer sits among your fingers, your life will soon slip from the grasp of the Aeon.
And yet—yet, this fact did not dim your light, not one bit. You know full well of the approaching darkness at all of the universe’s corridors—they have let you see it yourself. Still, you have insisted on the very same stand you have held before. Despite not chasing foolishly trying to create artificial meaning to life and the universe—you have understood and even believed the same thing IX believed, you have chosen to face such issues with a totally opposite reaction they have expected.
You faced your Aeon now, the metaphorical barren land of gray and emptiness was now occupied by blooming bio-fluorescent white flowers. It shines bright, but not too bright where it hurts—but bright enough to stand firm against the blackest of black sky that enveloped the garden and both entities facing each other.
“Before you crowned me as your emanator, you had none before. You don't believe in bestowing your ‘blessings’ upon anyone—you have seen no point in it, and you believed no beings could tolerate such nihilistic gaze anyway. Then you gazed at me, I suffered from you and I survived, and I got better. You said, in the face of looming darkness, I will understand and change my way—and I have not changed, before or after,”
IX looked straight into the eyes of their emanator and thought— why is she so difficult? But perhaps that is why she interests me…
“You are unbelievable, breathtakingly chaotic,” IX said with exasperation but their gaze was soft, as soft as a freshly cleaned wool. Something rather surprising coming from the Aeon represents coldness and emptiness.
“Now stop bothering me, I want to sleep…” With that, IX closed their eyes—essentially turning themselves into a mass of darkening black hole that seems to suck away all the life force surrounding it. This made-up space for you and them has dimmed its light, the world was asleep now as both you and the garden of light fell into the dark. You sat down, in an environment with minimal light, and closed your eyes too—drifting into a state of inactivity like your Aeon. Still, you and the garden emit soft light like a nightlight for the Aeon to anchor on. IX didn’t need it, and yet… you wanted to do it.
This place should be hell for any other, but for you—you felt comforted by the presence of the Nihility. It’s true that you were now in the darkness swallow but this darkness itself soothed you—just like the Nihility has too. Tomorrow, there will be work to do; but now you just want to rest beside your aeon. Basking silently in each other comfort.
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#aeon x reader#hsr aeons#aeon IX#hsr IX#IX x reader#honkai star rail
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The pebble
.... so you've somehow, someway have done the equivalent of a marriage proposal without realizing it. To Balam of all demons. Who accepted it.
One part of your brain was still in the wait, what just happened phase. But another part was running around hands in the air and screaming. "YES, YES, YES!" And course your greedy side was singing. "Mine, mine, mine, he's all mine!"
Overall, no regrets. You could live with this. In fact, he accepted, so no take backs, no returns. To think is all started with a shiny rock you found.
*earlier that day*
You had just been wandering the gardens, nothing really on your mind. That's when you spotted something glittery from the corner of your eye. There, by the edge of one of the ponds, was a pebble. You knelt down and carefully picked it up. How pretty!
It was maybe half the size of your palm and somewhat smooth except for the rough edging on its left side. The color was deep blue. With specks of purple, and was that silver along the jard edge? It reminded you of something.
You stood up and lifted it to the light, getting an even better view of the reflective surface. It was so colorful and so soothing to fiddle with in your hand. Releasing a pleased hum, you pocketed your find and walked back inside.
Zipping down the hall, you made your way to the den where the children were currently doing their homework. You laughed when Clara and Lied tackled you whining about the piles of work they still had. You cooed and petted both their heads before nudging them off you.
"Okay. Tell me what you don't understand and we'll go from there." Soon, all the kids were huddled tail and limbs around you as you helped with homework and talked about upcoming projects. How comfy this place felt now that it was full of life just about every day.
"Is Balam-sensei coming over later?" Iruma asked egarly as he tenderly held one of the books his teacher had gifted to him. You beamed and reached out to pinch his cheek. "Course he is how can he not want to spend time with such cute students!" Making several of the kids laugh.
"You two have been getting along well, haven't you?" Giggled Elizabetta, her tail swinging playfully back and forth. You narrowed your eyes at her for a moment before flicking her forehead. "Ow." You watched her pout for a minute before smiling.
"You're getting cheeky, aren't you. That's what you get for taking after your mentor." Playfully wagging a finger at her. "But it's no surprise that Balam-sensei is head over heels for you. He practically has hearts in his eyes whenever he sees you." Lied piped up, and you ruffled his hair as you tried to hide your embarrassment.
Of course, more of your kids chimed in, ganging up on you. "Yeah, yeah, super lovey dovey." Pops up an excited, Clara. "You two do make a lovely couple." Alice nodding happily. "I wouldn't mind another parent. Balam-sensei is cool and very nice to us." Jazz says casually, leaning against your shoulders, preventing any escape.
You spotted opera and Sullivan peering into the room mischief in their eyes. You knew exactly where the kids got the idea now. You mouthed 'traitors', and they quickly disappeared.
So this is how you would die. Out of pure embarrassment. There was a knock on the door. Oh, thank devi. You scrambled up and out of the pile. "I've got it! I've got it! Nobody else gets up!" Dashing to the front door. Yanking the door open, you saw the Demon in question.
He reached out and cupped your face gently so that he didn't hurt you. "Are you alright? Your face is red? You didn't have to run. I could have waited." Carefully turning your face before lifting you up for a closer look.
"No, no, I'm fine, just embarrassed is all," you laugh nervously as you attempt to wave off his concern. Looking at him face to face, you couldn't help but recall the conversation from before, causing a darker blush to spread.
"The kids will be happy to see you." You quickly changed the subject. "Their in the den." He cradled you to his chest, and you relaxed. It was your favorite spot, after all. Making his way inside, you avoided the kids' gazes and just listened to them interact with Balam-San.
You couldn't help but stare at him as your thoughts roamed freely. He was so sweet. A calming presence in the wild hellish world you now lived in. He had helped you and all your kids more than once. He was strong, an unyielding shield that protected all he stood before.
Honestly, you doubted you could have survived long without his assistance. Thankfully, Opera had the foresight to introduce the two of you. You smiled at the memory.
*flashback to adoration your pov*
You hadn't known much, well actually you knew nothing about the world you found yourself now living in. But that moment when you turned around and saw him staring at you kneeling in the entryway. Well, the way he looked at you made you feel special. You felt like you were some kind of artwork in his eyes, a long-lost mater piece brought to light.
His size alone should have intimidated you. Kneeling, he was still a little taller than you. But maybe it was the fact that he was so lost in thought that made you approach carefully. One step then two. Till you stood before him in the light waiting for him to realize your flaws.
That moment never seemed to come. In fact, it was harder to tell with his wild hair and the mask that covered half his face, but you could have sworn he was crying. He was crying! What a silly demon. You couldn't help but laugh.
You remember what Opera had briefly mentioned to you before meeting him. "He's been wanting to meet a human his entire life. He'll probably overwhelm you with questions and constant touches, but it's doubtful He'll ever harm you." The words brining comfort to you in that moment.
"I hear you've been waiting a long time for me. Is that true?" You prompted, watching as his head bobbed rapidly. 'So pretty.' You remember thinking in that moment seeing the bright colored eyes reflecting your image. "You know something?" You teased out, watching him as he subconsciously leaned forward.
You brought yourself closer, too, and it felt safe. Surprisingly safe and warm as you made sure he was making eye contact. "I think you and I are going to get along just fine. Please take good care of me." You giggled. Reminded of him stuttering out his reply. "O-of course."
*end flashback*
The happiness in those eyes radiant like starlight. You shake yourself out of the memory to realize you had been left alone with Balam. How he was still holding you as he read a book. Seeming content. His heartbeat is slow and calm.
"Mmmh, so they all left us, huh?" You teased. He chuckled. "It seems so." You shifted only to feel the weight in your pocket. Oh! The pebble. That gave you an idea.
"Hold out your hand." You instructed as you sat up straighter and pulled out your shiny treasure. That's what it reminded you of, Balam himself. He held out his hand curiosity in his eyes.
Carefully, you placed it in his palm and smiled. "It reminded me of you. It's so pretty. I'm sure you'll like it!" The gargoyle could only stare at it with wide eyes as you smiled confidently. "A-are you sure?" He seemed to stumble.
"Of course, I'm sure! It's almost the exact same shade as your eyes! I'll show you wait there while I get a mirror!" You jumped off of him and rushed to the bathroom where you recalled setting down a hand mirror this morning.
**Balams pov**
... his brain was not functioning correctly. In his palm, he held a saints tear. One of the rarest minerals in the netherworld. And to top it all off, you just handed it to him. Saying that, he resembled it! A bright red blush covered his face, thankfully contained by his mask.
How did you know this was how gargoyles courted?!?! Presenting a simple pebble was usually how it went, but you were giving him a priceless gift! The darker the color, the more expensive they were. Hesitantly, he rubbed the near smooth surface. A courting gift.
What was his human thinking??? They needed to make a nest with plenty of room for the kids and to ask Sullivan for his blessing. Wait! Did humans even build nests? He'd have to ask iruma! He sped up the stairs and opened the door to said boys' room. "Iruma!"
Big blue eyes stared up at him innocently, unaware of the large demons' internal crisis. "Yes, Balam-sensei?" He asked. "H-how do hu-humans court? Do you build nests? What should be given in return?" The teenagers' eyes bulged in shock at the overwhelming amount of questions.
"Well, I mean, I thought you were already courting Balam-sensei. That is well. You two are always cuddling and playing with each other's hair. You always eat together. And you help them with all of us even though you don't have to, and they never once asked you. Umm, humans don't really build nests, but we like comfort, and they always seem to be comfortable with you or in your vines, so I don't think it's a problem. As for gifts, um, most do jewelry, but Grandpa gives them lost of jewelry, so o don't think that will work. Maybe something handmade?"
He found himself listening with rapid attention nodding egarly for more information, but before he could ask anything else he heard. "Balam? Shichirou? Where did you go?" Panic entered his mind he hadn't said yes yet! What if they thought he ran off!??!
Zooming back down the stairs, he barely stopped behind you. "Oh, there you are! Look at you. You have your poor feathers all ruffled up. Such a shame they're so lovely, too." As they reached out and attempted to settle zome of his neck fluff, an idea came to mind.
**you currently**
You were momentarily startled when balam lifted you up and set you down on the couch. He knelt down so that both of you were of closer height. He seemed nervous, and you weren't sure why. Taking a deep breath, he took hold of both your hands.
"I-I never thought that there wo-would be an-anyone that wanted me. I'm not ex-exactly a catch by demon standards." You reared up about to fight anyone who had ever said anything, but he squeezed your hands, getting you to focus again.
"But I am so glad. Extatic that you would gift me something so precious." You blinked... was he talking about the rock? "I promise I will always cherish it, and I accept your offer in courting." Oh my devi, he was talking about the rock. How did he think this was a courting gift???
"I ca-can't offer you much in return, but I -I hope these will do for now." He pulled out a few of his own feathers and slowly weaved them into your hair. Tears began to swell in your eyes. Oh! "Perfect." You whispered in awe.
Throwing your arms around him tightly. "It's perfect! Don't get me anything else! I'll be so mad if you even try." You croaked out on the verge of sobbing. A pleasant rumble escaped the demons large chest as he held you against him.
You snickered for a moment. "What is it?" He asked you. "Ah, I just thought that this means Kalego-San will have to come over more if he wants to see you." More laughter spilled out, and the gargoyle also tried to muffle his own laughs at the looks of horror and distain his colleague was sure to have when given the news.
He watched as you pleasantly played with the feathers now decorating your hair. ☆one perfect pebble, just one humble stone. But oh, what a stone can do~ it means that I have one love forever and one love alone. A now and forever with you~☆ You kissed his temple as he stared at you in amazement.
"Does this mean we get to call Balam-sensei dad now?" Both of you jumped startled by Soi's question. Sneaky child. You could see the others on the stairs looking hopeful. You returned your gaze to shichirou, who appeared to be swelling with pride and embarrassment.
"Were kinda a package deal. You want one of us, you gotta take all of us." The playful smile on your lips as you nudge him to answer. "I'd be honored." The words coming out with reverence and joy. Leading to a large 'family' cuddle pile.
#mairimashita! iruma kun#welcome to demon school iruma kun#reader#iruma suzuki#lord sullivan#opera#naberius kalego#kalego sensei#balam shichirou#balam sensei#shax lied#jazz andro#ix elizabetta#clara valac#asmodeus alice#balam x reader#soi purson
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16 August 2015 | 03:46
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Iwaizumi Hajime x F!Reader
content tags: fluff and smut, vanilla sex, sex-induced confessions, Iwa calls reader "pretty girl"
400ish words
Iwaizumi can’t get enough of you—not like this. It’s been eight fucking months since he’s been able to hold you, since he's been able to touch you. You’re here now and he can’t keep his hands to himself.
Your nails dig into the taut muscle of his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer, eagerly attaching your lips to the column of his throat when he gives you what you want, teeth grazing over his pulse point. The soft expletives that leave his mouth seem to spurn you on, seem to increase your hunger for him.
He loves you like this—open and exposed, something just for him. No one else gets to see you like this, gets to experience you like this. This is for him and him alone and he’ll revel in every second you grant him.
Capturing your lips with his, the kiss is messy, frenzied as he works his hand between you both. He swallows your moan, fingers circling your swollen clit, causing you to clench around him. You break away from the kiss with a high-pitched intake and a glossed-over expression.
“Oh, fuck, Hajime,” you breathe, voice breathy and barely there, “fuuuuck—just like that.”
“Yeah? My pretty girl likes that?” You bite your tongue to withhold the whine that’s building up and he’s quick to put an end to that. “I wanna hear my girl when she comes.”
That’s all it takes to push you over the edge, for your pussy to close around him so tight that he has to stop, for his name to catch on your lips as tears gather in the corners of your eyes.
Beautiful.
“Shit, I love you,” he mutters in between thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It isn’t until the soft gasp that escapes you that he realizes what he said. Your eyes are wide, questioning, almost hopeful before you pull him back to your lips, kissing him as though your life depends on it. He comes, orgasm rolling throughout his being, pulling away from your eager lips so he can breathe.
Taking a moment to catch his breath after pulling out, he presses his weight against you, head resting on your chest, ear just above your heart. You run your fingers through his hair as the last couple of minutes play in his mind.
“I meant it. It’s not just a sex thing,” he murmurs into your skin. Your fingers cease their movements and he hears the slight increase in your heartbeat, but you say nothing. Instead, you pull him up by his face and give him a kiss so sweet he wonders whether he’ll have a cavity when this is over.
You don’t say it back, but he doesn’t need to hear it. Just you knowing how he feels will be enough.
over the course of 24 hours masterlist | haikyuu!! masterlist
#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi fluff#iwaizumi smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#hq x reader#✒.otc24#✒.ix writes#entry: 16#hq.✒
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Bruh Aeon of Guidance Reader has so much influence on the Aeons that even IX doubts its views towards reality... Akivili is sure lucky to have them on their train, cause they suddenly got a bounty from all the other Aeons...
Hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Clingy behaviour
Ix views of reality hasn't really changed, they still believes that the universe will end with nothing, only now they have a goal. Whenever the universe goes into nothingess they will make sure that you and they will still be around.
Though the universe may be worthless, you certainly aren't.
Akivili is very smug that they get to be around you all the time, they make sure to rub it into the other aeons faces whenever they get a chance. Akivili clings to you at all times, whenever you go to a new planet and you guide them through it, they always get distracted and stares at you instead.
Akivili actually got a bounty one time that was quickly removed, the reason was that you were in the background of the bounty and the others don't want you to be shown to the rest of the universe.
#yandere#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr#yandere ix#yandere ix x reader#yandere akivili#yandere akivili x reader
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:// 𝙸𝙽 𝙰𝙱𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙰
[ AN ARGENTI × FEM!READER FIC ]
For @favonius-library 2023 Secret Santa gift exchange 🎄💝
Media: Honkai: Star Rail
Characters: Reader (she/her; written in third person perspective), Argenti
Word count: ~2.6k
Content warnings: Present day AU. Setting is based off the southwestern United States. Angst — this is (the beginning of) a story about grief, but also about love. Argenti and reader are in a pre-established relationship; both of them are the same age, and of majority age (20-21 years old).
From the author: Happy holidays Mimi ( @aimixx ) ! It’s your Secret Santa here. Argenti… He is so… (screams into pillow and bites it). I hope you enjoy the story I’ve written for you — this is only chapter one, so there’ll be more to come in the future!
Special thanks to @souglias + @verxsyon + @shiinleaf for giving this chapter a read-through and sharing your thoughts!
Soundtrack: Heroes – The Midnight (live version) / 失恋ソング沢山聴いて 泣いてばかりの私はもう。(Summertime Render ED2) by Riria. / Way Back Home – Shaun / Meant To Be (Tower of Fantasy OST) – Shymie
:// 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 1: 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙰
“y/n… y/n…”
She stirs to the soothing lilt of her boyfriend's voice, his palm firm on her shoulder as he gently shakes her from her slumber. Her eyes flutter open to the incessant patter of raindrops outside the car window; beyond the rain-marred windshield, she can make out the sight of asphalt stretching into the horizon, flanked on either side by even concrete pavements and vibrant, tidy rows of bungalows. In any other time of year, perhaps this scene might have served as a tableau of prime suburban living, picture-perfect with lush gardens and the laughter of frolicking children; but today, their once vivid hues stood dampened and dulled beneath the descent of a frigid winter downpour.
The car begins moving again. She sits up in the passenger seat, stretching to alleviate the stiffness in her neck. As the car turns into the driveway and into the shelter of the garage, she shifts her gaze towards her boyfriend. Even against the backdrop of the bleak outdoors, his signature crimson locks don’t lose their blazing lustre, remaining brilliant and bright even when up in a messy ponytail, framing his weary countenance.
He feels her eyes on him, and turns to her. His lips curve into the ever gentle, familiar smile she knows and loves as the car comes to a stop and he cuts the engine.
“We’re here,” he tells her. “Welcome to Roselied.”
y/n and Argenti first met in their freshman year of university.
Their school ranked among the top in the nation. Admissions were reserved for none other than the cream of the crop; even then, those gruelling demands would prove only the tip of the iceberg for those lucky enough to comprise the student body.
It was with this understanding y/n pushed herself to the extreme late one night in freshman year. It would be the tennis team tryouts the next day, and she was dedicated to not wasting a single minute, perfecting serve and swing against an indomitable opponent: the back wall of the school’s locker rooms. Most of the school’s tennis team had been admitted on sports scholarships; anyone who was to fill in its remaining ranks would have to rise to their impeccable standard: that of those who had honed their form and skill for years, who had made the sport their lifeblood. Failure was not an option.
She would eventually lose track of time, though she cared not for the hours that had passed as much as for the number of hits she had missed, for the growing frequency of flaws in her form as the minutes wore on and fatigue crept up upon her.
It was about then that Argenti appeared.
She still remembers the first time she saw him: turning around the corner to sharp, sudden glare she had shot him for his intrusion, wide-eyed astonishment mellowed to sympathy as she softened her gaze in apology, realising just how wound up she was in that moment.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I heard this weird thumping from back here, so I came to check it out.”
She had merely grunted in reply, and returned to her practice. She could afford no respite — not at this juncture.
Argenti continued to linger, observing her as she practised. He watched as weariness began to take its toll on her, her movements becoming more sluggish, her countenance more frustrated with every move she made. Each motion seemed to prove more laborious than the last. When minutes had passed and he had not left, she paused, intending to lay into him for being a distraction, but before she could speak up, he did:
“Why don’t we play a match together?”
At the incredulous expression on her face, he explained, “I do have some experience from playing back in high school. I might not be as good as you, but still… Practice is practice?”
She cast a glance at the wall before her. He was right — she’d make no proper progress continuing to play against the wall like this. After all, an inanimate entity could never hope to replicate the true circumstances of playing against an actual opponent: the unpredictability of their motions, the intensity of their presence, the dynamism of their being.
And so they found themselves at opposite ends of the tennis court. Her spare racket in his grasp, Argenti primed himself for her serve. It was a pleasant surprise when he managed to receive it.
Thus continued their back and forth upon the deserted court. As the match went on, she realised he was only a little above the level of an amateur, playing not to defeat his opponent, but simply to be able to return the ball across the net. The rational inclination would have been to dismiss his efforts, to deem the current minutes wasted and better spent on practising by herself; yet she could not deny the pounding of her heartbeat, the thrill of the moment, the swirling sentiments rising from the pits of her stomach: she was having fun.
Another hit of the ball back at him. She noted the movements of his racket as he attempted to return it, the angle of which caused it to soar up, up into the air… He had shouted a hasty apology to her, but her attention was focused solely on the trajectory of the ball.
As the ball descended into her court, she seized the golden opportunity, leaping into the air and smashing it back into his court. He rushed to receive it, but his unpracticed swing could not match its velocity; he felt the recoil of the ball against his wrist, and, in his momentary struggle to return it to her court, the ball lost its inertia, bounding off his racket to hit the net between them.
Argenti bowed his head, a chuckle of concession leaving his lips. He raised his head back up to a sight whose memory still takes his breath away: her, smiling for the first time that night, the look in her eyes wishing, wanting, waiting for more.
He could not help the grin that spread across his face. Their eyes met, and in the gaze held between them, an unspoken understanding: gratitude met with encouragement, a newfound relief, and mutual admiration; the precedent of a sentiment beyond the banality of reason, of sparks beginning to fly.
He was the first to break the silence. “It’s late,” he told her. “We should be heading back. You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow… You need the rest.
“You’re going to do great. I promise.”
And taking his advice would prove to be something she would later be grateful for — the following day, as she waited her turn on the bench beside the court, nerves ate away at her, allowing her no mental respite. As waves of anxiety overtook her mind, she wondered just how much more worn out she would be had she not heeded his words.
“y/n,” the team manager announced her name, indicating the beginning of her turn in the tryouts. Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto the court.
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she’d noticed the movement of a familiar, striking hue across the bleachers. She turned to see who it was, and there, in the top row, sat the face from last night: Argenti, casting her an encouraging smile, and giving her a thumbs up.
She felt a surge of adrenaline through her veins. Tossing the ball in the air, she launched a powerful serve against her opponent…
And the rest was history.
Individual efforts, fates aligned — such was the impression left upon others of the romance between the rising star of the school’s tennis team and the gallant prince of the law faculty. The whispers, cheers and jeers alike dubbed the both of them campus royalty; and for all it’s worth, she knew it a title well-deserved on her part: the reward of consistent diligence and discipline factored into every facet of her life, from her consistently stellar academic performance to becoming the youngest member to represent the school in tennis competitions, and even in her everyday appearance and social engagements.
Yet, when met with these comments, Argenti’s eyes always seemed to take on a certain sadness. It never lasts longer than an instant — a fleeting shadow, a trick of the light — but she had seen it enough times to know it was there. She had brought it up once, early on in their relationship, but he had been surprised at this observation, totally unaware of its occurrence and later dismissing it as a result of fatigue. It was thus that she surmised that perhaps it was an unconscious idiosyncrasy of his; and if there was really more to it, she trusted he would confide in her in time.
When he first invited her to spend the year-end holidays with him at his hometown, the memory of that look in his eyes came back to her. She wondered if visiting the place where he grew up would bring her the answers she secretly desired.
And now, as they pulled up to his childhood home amidst the merciless rain, she watched as the same melancholy bloomed in his eyes, more vivid, more forlorn than ever before.
“Make yourself at home,” Argenti pushes open the door, stepping aside to allow y/n into the guest bedroom. “I hope you can forgive that we’ll be staying in different rooms.”
The room exudes a humble elegance: a high, queen-sized mattress with patterned bedsheets sat upon a frame of lacquered rosewood, complemented on either side by a wardrobe and bedside table of similar makes. Cream-coloured drapes hung before each of the windows, and, on an adjacent wall, a door leading into the attached bathroom, pristine, bright and replete with toiletries.
y/n accepts the handle of her suitcase from Argenti and pulls it into the room. “It’s no problem at all,” she replies. “It’s your parents’ place after all. I totally understand, mine are the same way.”
She walks over to the wardrobe, setting down the last of her luggage in front of it, and turns to face him. He’s leaning against the door frame, smiling at her. He extends his arm, and takes her hand in his. “Want to see my room?” he asks.
She squeezes his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. The corners of her lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Of course.”
He grins, leading her down the hallway. The door just by the bannister of the staircase is painted the same cream white as others like it in the household, leave for the fact that its two panels were coloured in with wide, dry strokes of paint, a larger red panel atop a smaller one in gold. On the doorknob hung a wooden door hanger carved and painted to resemble a wilting rose, the letters of his name affixed to its faded silver stalk.
He unlatches the door to his bedroom. Turning to face her, he takes both her hands in his as he walks backwards, pulling her into the space with him.
Argenti’s bedroom is a museum of memory; the material of his very soul made manifest. The ivory-hued walls that surround them are adorned with posters of movies y/n recognized as his favourites, prints of famous paintings, a triangular flag bearing the colours and acronym of their university, as well as polaroids of himself with individuals around his age whom she did not recognize. Behind her, a hand-painted mural of roses blooming amidst vines bordered his room door on the inside.
Facing the doorway, an expansive stretch of windows occupied the widest wall in the room, framed by red curtains. Before the windows stood a vintage study desk, its surface faintly scratched and stained, with rows of drawers built into both sides of it and a swivel chair neatly tucked into the space between. On either side of his desk stood a wardrobe and a bookcase, while his bed sat in a corner away from the windows, neatly made: two pillows had been stacked at its head, while a row of worn, well-loved plush toys stood lined against the adjacent wall, while a quilt of exuberant hues lay folded at its foot.
Argenti steps towards his bed, unfolding the quilt into a larger rectangle. He sits down upon it, meeting y/n’s gaze and patting the space next to him.
No sooner had she settled down next to him did the older, feminine voice of his mother rise from downstairs. “Argenti!” she calls. He sighs, casting an apologetic glance at y/n.
“I'm sorry,” he explains, rising from the bed. “We arrived earlier than anticipated, and my mom— Well, she was really excited to meet you. She doesn't want to keep you waiting for dinner.”
y/n shakes her head. “It’s alright,” she replies, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shakes his head. “My mom wants to keep it a surprise.”
“Argenti!” yells his mother again. He rushes toward the staircase.
“Leave the door open,” he calls after her. “Just look around at whatever you’d like! I’ll be right back up!”
As he descends the stairs to heed his mother’s call, y/n wanders the room on her lonesome, looking around at the myriad trinkets and items scattered about the room. Her eyes fall on his bookcase.
In the otherwise well-kept room, Argenti’s bookcase posed a region of chaos: books of varying subjects and genres lay upon its shelves in haphazard arrangements, employing no apparent system of organisation leave for that exclusive to the mind of its owner. Her eyes scan past rows of tattered exam guides with frayed spines, yellowed literary classics, thick biographies, glossy-covered fantasy and romance novels, before eventually arriving at the top shelf: the most organised level, chock full of yearbooks and photo albums, each labelled with their respective years.
Her face lights up with an impish curiosity. She perches on her tiptoes, stretching her utmost as she reaches towards the yearbook labelled ‘Roselied High School: Class of 2021’. As her fingertips graze the top of the yearbook, she trips over herself, losing her balance and tugging the yearbook down to the floor with her in a storm of dust and grime.
The resounding thud sends Argenti into a panic. “y/n!” he cries, racing up the stairs from the kitchen, his hand still clad in an oven mitt.
He breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of her unscathed, seated on his room floor. Yet, instead of turning to him or scrambling to help tidy the disarray surrounding her, she continued to face away from him, her interest piqued by an unknown object.
He steps closer to see what she had found.
She holds a stack of photographs in her hands. She takes her time examining each of them, placing one behind the other one at a time. He notices the rest of the paraphernalia in front of her: a bundle of handwritten letters, bound with twine; a dried rose, each of its once white petals tinted with different hues of the rainbow; a spiral-bound notebook full to bursting newspaper clippings and post-it notes; a compact disc, its iridescent surface visible through its yellowed plastic casing; and two sheets of yellowed paper held together by a rusted staple, all neatly placed into the open wooden box he’d hidden at the very top of his bookcase, resting above all his photo albums and yearbooks.
“Argenti.” She senses his presence behind her, but does not turn to face him.
“Who is Idrila?”
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SHADES OF COOL: VI
Chapter 6: No Good Men
A/N: Hey guys, it’s been a hot minute since I updated this fic, but I’ve had a lot going on recently in my personal life (I.e. university and getting assignments In) that by the time everything was complete, I no longer had the motivation to work on chapter 6. I think from now on I’m gonna aim for more frequent, less wordy chapters as this one in itself is already over 8k… I hope you understand and I hope you enjoy my shit attempt at smut lol… lmk what you think and if you want more
WARNINGS: Lalo and reader being pervs, oral sex (f receiving), allusion to alcoholism, shit childhood for reader, turbulent ‘friendships’
Word count: 8.4k words
Shades of Cool Masterlist: Here
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
As the music flows from the speaker, Lalo glances at you from where you’re sitting, your knees pointing in his direction and your eyes half-lidded. He extends his arm once you reach a red light and places his palm atop your bare thigh. You're smooth against him, yet there’s a chill to your flesh. Slowly, he begins to draw shapes into your pillowy skin. You don’t jump at his touch or flinch as he starts to move the pads of his fingers across the surface, though the warmth that settles in your stomach is almost too hard to ignore.
“Lalo?..”
He doesn’t answer and instead presses on the accelerator with the ball of his foot. The sudden jolt makes you jump, yet his hold remains firm, gripping—the houses in your neighbourhood flash by the window. When you reach your home, he parks up and turns to you, the car keys now in his pocket. You smile at him, and he smiles back.
“I had a great night tonight, Lalo..”
He shrugs, and his eyes are closed as he does.
“I know,”
“No, really, I did enjoy myself, though I… maybe we should… do it again?”
Lalo hums and taps on his lap. He doesn’t answer and instead steps out of the car and rounds his way to your side. The breeze whips at your exposed legs as he opens the door, outstretching a hand for you to take, a soft ‘come on’ falling from his lips. You almost can’t hear him; his voice is muffled beneath the pounding of your heart against your ribcage.
He walks you to your front door and chimes in as you reach the doormat.
“I think we should go out again soon as well. You’re a good person, and I mean…” he rubs the back of his neck, feigning bashfulness. “If tío Hector likes you, you must be an angel.”
The skin of your cheeks is hit with what feels like tiny pinpricks, the fuzz of your face slightly lifting as Lalo compliments you. An angel, perhaps an exaggeration from your visitor, but still, with the darkening hue, there was no denying how he made you feel.
“You don’t.. you don’t mean that.”
“I do. You think I don’t?”
He steps closer, and you don’t move. He delicately brushes back strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear. There’s a tenderness in his touch, as though you could break at any moment beneath him.
“What I think is that you’re exaggerating a little bit.”
He presses a kiss to your cheek and then your head. “Exaggerating, you think I’d lie to you?”
“I-“ you stammer, swallowing back the nerves that settle within the pit of your stomach. “Do you wanna come inside for a little bit? I have… have a bottle of wine we can crack open.”
Lalo sighs and locks his car before looking back at you, his dark eyes fixed on your own.
“We’re not just going to sit and drink wine, are we?”
He lets go and steps back, allowing you to unlock the door. You struggle to fit the key into the lock as he stands behind you, the scent of his cologne lingering in the night breeze. He smells like old money and expensive perfume, and you want to bury your face into his chest and take big breaths through your nose to savour it.
“It’s…well, you’ve been here before, so…”
As you enter the building, you kick off your heels, and they make a dull clicking sound as they land on the soft carpeted floorboards. Lalo follows you but doesn't immediately remove his shoes because he's too busy glancing at the pictures on the walls and the mirror adjacent to the front door.
“I have a small TV in my room. We can see what’s on?”
As you invite him into your bedroom, he takes his time observing the space and examining each piece of furniture. The room is coated in a muted, rosy pink wash, and the shelves are filled with books. The pages having been thumbed through countless times, resulting in a warm, buttery colour. His fingers gently trace the words on the spines of the books, "Stephen King? I never would have guessed that you were a fan of horror. Didn't he write that huge book about a creepy clown?"
“Yeah, pennywise… that book freaked me out when I read it, though Salem's Lot is my favourite…”
Lalo hums again. Your collection is so extensive he isn’t sure where it starts and where it ends. There are even books piled up on the floor and beneath your bed, by the looks of it. Their spines peek out from the bedcover, which tickles the carpet. “Do you have a favourite book, Lalo?”
“I… I don't have much time to read anymore, but when I was younger, I liked Blood Meridian. It’s perfect. The guy that writes it… He’s smart as hell.”
“I love that one. It’s a little gruesome in places, but I think it adds to the atmosphere?”
Nodding, Lalo turns his attention to the stuffed animals that sit propped against your pillows. He notices the little faces of the plush toys smiling at him and reaches for a pink, floppy cat, “Es muy lindo.”
The warm light of your bedside lamp highlights the gentle smile on your face. Your makeup appears smudged, but it doesn't detract from your beauty.
“Could you…”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
Lalo takes a few steps closer and pinches the zip between his forefinger and thumb, slowly pulling it down your back until it reaches the band of your underwear. You thank him, though you pause when he doesn’t move to turn around or cover his eyes.
“Aye- where’s your bathroom again?”
“Just down the hall to your right- near the kitchen.”
When he leaves for the bathroom, you let the dress fall from your shoulders and pool around your feet. You unclip your bra and toss it haphazardly across the room with your dress. They land down by the cupboard, and you cover yourself quickly with an oversized graphic t-shirt that is a similar length to the dress. You sit on the bed, curled into the pillow closest to the wall and reach for the TV remote propped against the window ledge.
Lalo is quick in the bathroom, though he takes a moment to look at your hair products and the body wash. Picking up the shampoo and flipping open the lid, sniffing, He’s Hit with the scent of peonies and jasmine. The man can’t help but take one last breath before putting it down and looking at the others. He washes his hands before returning to the bedroom; even your soap smells of flowers. He makes a mental note.
“Hey, you okay, Lalo?”
You’re curled into a cushion leaning against the wall, and he smiles, the thrum of the TV drawing out the comfortable silence between you both.
“I’m fine; you have a lovely home. It’s so…cosy.”
You quirk a brow as he sits - having kicked off his shoes - on your bed with one leg folded atop the other, his back to the headboard with one arm leaning against it. You turn into him and smile, “Cosy, are you trying to say that I’ve got a small house?”
He chuckles, and you can feel his body shake as he does. “No, of course not. I mean- it’s small, but I meant that it feels… homely, you know?”
It’s your turn to nod, and when you do, Lalo rests a hand on your shoulder. “I do know. I’m only messing with you… I wouldn’t need a big house anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm, it is only me, after all.”
The film playing is a western from the 60s, something with Clint Eastwood that Lalo looks as though he’s somewhat enjoying. “Do you ever feel lonely here all by yourself?”
He doesn’t look at you when he asks, though you can feel the question pointed in your direction as he concentrates on the film. “No, not really. I like my own space. I spend enough time with people at work, though it can be a bit… not scary but tense when I find stuff outside my house from that weirdo.”
Lalo nods again, though he looks down at you with his brown eyes this time. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll stop bothering you.”
“It’s funny you say that; I haven’t seen or heard of anything over the last few days… which is weird.” Lalo traces the skin of your arm and nods along, humming as though he hadn’t a clue whether or not Daniel would quit his torment.
“You’re pretty observant, then?”
“I try to be. Well, I am when I have a full night's rest.”
Lalo huffs and slightly pulls at your T-shirt sleeve to reveal a floral tattoo that goes from your collarbone to your inner bicep. “Tattoos, huh? You surprise me more and more every day.”
You shuffle a little so you’re curled into him, your finger tracing across his chest, feeling the imprint of the pendant beneath his button-through shirt. “Mmhm, you don’t like it?”
“No,” he began, drawing his fingers across the delicate linework. “ I love it. It's well done.” You shiver beneath his touch as he mirrors the leaves with his fingertip. “Plus, it suits you. When did you get it done?”
You sigh and close your eyes for a second, glancing now and again at the screen. “When I was 18 years old, it was a birthday present to myself, I suppose. It only cost 120.”
“Not bad at all; mine was around a similar price, maybe more, but… I’ve had it for years now.”
You reach out to take hold of his arm, leisurely tracing over his tattoo armband- following each curve and swirl that the blackwork harbours. “Does it have any special meaning?”
“Not really,” he sighs and looks down, “just thought it looked cool when I was about your age.”
Laughing, you slowly place his arm back down, though you stay in a similar position to how you had been before. “You’re making yourself sound so old, Lalo.”
“Old? 43 isn’t old, princesa.”
“You’re old enough to be my dad, just about.”
You hear him hum and slowly reach down to place his hand on your back, rubbing circles into the T-shirt that bunches up as you wiggle closer to him. “Oh yeah? And you like that?”
“Maybe,” you brush his hair back. “The older the fruit, the sweeter the wine.”
Lalo scoffs and presses his strong nose to your hairline, taking a deep breath. When he sighs, you glance up at his lips. And when he moves back, you close your eyes and press your lips to his. The hair above his upper lip tickles your own, and you bunch your fists into the cotton sheet draped loosely across your bed. He seems to falter against the headboard but kisses back moments after, gripping your shoulders with both hands. You stay like that for a few seconds, savouring the warmth and pillowy velvet feeling of his lips driven between your own.
Your kisses become more desperate, and his hold tighter as you sigh against his mouth. He presses you down against the mattress, leaning over your top half, one hand curled into your hair whilst the other clutches at the exposed flesh of your thigh.
“La…Lalo,” you tilt your head back as he stamps hot, wet kisses down your jaw and neck. Lalo drags on the fragile skin that lies taut across your collarbone and pulls his large hand from your hair to your throat. His breath blisters as it fans out across your body.
“So whiny, and I’ve hardly touched you…” His laugh vibrates against the crook of your neck, and you roll your eyes and hips as he teases you by slipping his hand across your underwear.
“Can you stop with the teasing and just…do something?”
He huffed and sat back, pushing your hair out of your face. His knuckles had barely grazed your skin, yet he could feel the heat radiating from you. “You think that the first time I’m going to have you, it’s gonna be on this tiny bed? No way, you deserve better than that, amor.”
Tossing your head into your pillow, you let out a frustrated groan and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. Leaning on your elbows, you smirk at him and trace your fingertips across his abdomen until your fingers meet the metal clasp of his belt. It’s enormous, though, you know, as your hand cups the bulge tight against his pants that he isn’t overcompensating.
“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”
“ Oh, shut up.” he presses his lips to yours, and you hook your fingers into the loops of his trousers, pulling his hips flush against your own. He lets out a groan as you grind up against his clothed erection.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to take care of that?”
“I’m pretty sure. Besides, you have work tomorrow, hm? I don’t want you being bed-bound before work.”
You take your lip between your teeth, and he brushes his thumb across the lower. Parting them slightly, Lalo moves his thumb across your tongue and into your mouth. He watches as your tongue wrestles with him, and you whine and writhe under his shadow.
When he pulls out his thumb, there’s a lewd pop, and he chuckles to himself, muttering something in Spanish that’s almost inaudible due to the sound of your shallow breaths. The man then peels off your T-shirt and throws it to the ground, kissing down the valley of your breasts, leaving little bites in his wake.
“Fuck, Lalo”
He kisses your breasts and slowly takes your swollen bud between his teeth. Pressing your legs together, you whine into the cotton pillow as the tingling sensation stirs within your stomach and at the apex of your thighs.
“L-Lalo, please…”
He chuckles again, removing your nipple from his lips, a bastardly smirk across his face. “Yeah? Are you going to beg for me, princesa? Want me to play with your little coño?”
You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous-“ he resumes kissing, his free hand kneading the soft flesh, and you moan before slapping your hand across your mouth. Your cheeks burn against your palm, and Lalo quirks a brow at you as you narrowly avoid eye contact. “Oh, I’m ridiculous now, hm? You don’t have to cover your mouth, querida. I wanna hear all your pretty little sounds.” Lalo momentarily cups your face in his hand, caressing the side with his thumb. You might melt with how he looks at you, with those gorgeous brown eyes.
“Mmhm, stop; you’re gonna embarrass me…”
“With all due respect, you’re almost naked…shouldn’t be embarrassed for whining.”
You nod, and he kisses your sternum before moving down your stomach to the underwear band. He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Ai, pinche cabrón, you smell good enough to eat.”
You giggle, resisting the urge to cover your face with your hands. “Don’t be disgusting, Lalo…”
He smiles and hooks his fingers into the elastic, slowly tugging the material down your legs. He leans back to pull them from your ankle, where they hang momentarily, before throwing them across the room. They join the place alongside your shirt. “So pretty, is this all for me?”
“Only for you, Lalo..” you sigh out.
Lalo hums and presses wet kisses across your thighs before arriving at the space between your legs, where he takes time drawing stripes with his tongue across the smooth skin. You cry out when he reaches your clit. You curl your fingers into his greying hair as he pulls you closer and latches his lips to the swollen bundle of nerves and suckles. He moves his head from side to side as he does, and one of his hands moves from beneath your leg to your hole. He toys at your entrance with his index and middle finger, drawing circles with the tips as you gush around him.
“Fuck Lalo, please, stop teas-”
“Stop? You really want me to stop?” He smiles up at you, his eyes drooping as if half asleep. You think you hear him laugh as you instinctively try to push your thighs together, but Lalo’s grip on your legs is firm, and you give up against the strain of him.
“No!- No, I didn’t mean that.” You want to hit yourself with how stupid you sound whining; you’re giving him all the satisfaction he needs. “Please, Lalo,”
He pauses his kissing and tilts his head, “ I don’t want you to think I’m just gonna fuck you and leave. I’m not. You’re all in now, querida.” The man between your legs lowers his head of dark hair. You move your hand to his greying soft curls and pull. There’s a groan, and beneath the sounds of your pleasure, you aren’t sure where it came from, but the sound vibrates against your core as two fingers enter you slowly.
Whimpering, you hit your head into the pillow and moan. It’s loud and obnoxious, but the cotton muffles your noises, and Lalo hums against you.
There’s a hot, bubbling feeling in your stomach, and the knot tightens as Lalo moves faster and curls his fingers inside you. You move your legs over his shoulders as he grips your right thigh with his free hand. Your feet are locked together, one ankle crossed over the other against his back. They twitch slightly, and his lips on your clit pull harder.
“L-lalo,” you almost feel like crying. You’re on the edge as he slams into you repeatedly. You inhale and exhale and feel the rush of heat leave your cunt. It’s sticky and warm against your thighs, and the sound that leaves your lips is embarrassing. Your legs twitch as he stays there, pushing into you and curling his fingers in a ‘ come here ‘ motion, his lips still secured around you.
You think you can see black filtering into your vision in bursts, like dahlias that come and go as sweat drips from your head and your nails sink into thick, dark brown. Your lungs' breath is warm, and as you pant into your pillow, now slightly damp, you feel him shifting slowly away. His kissing becomes more loving and drawn out, and he licks away the river between your legs that seeps into the mattress.
When Lalo sits back on his knees with his hands resting on your thighs, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a beautiful man. His greying hair was slightly dishevelled and falling against his forehead, and the deep lines on his face fell, each holding so many years of human emotion. You think you smile at him in your fucked-up daze and reach out.
He lowers himself, and he’s talking, but the words aren’t registering as your palm meets the side of his head. Lalo presses his wet fingers against your lips, and you don’t hesitate to swirl your tongue around them, tasting the remnant of your pleasure, the way he makes you feel.
When he takes them from your lips, he leans back again, and you sigh. He’s gone for a moment but comes back with a warm towel from the heating rack in your bathroom. He presses the softness against your middle and slowly, lovingly cleans away the evidence of your arousal until there’s nothing left. Lalo then moves to a clean part of the towel and dabs at the sweat on your forehead. He draws back the strands of your hair that stick to the skin, and once dry, he presses a kiss there. It’s long, and in the silence of your room, the TV static is the only source of light. You feel safe.
“You’re sleepy now, huh? Ai, sweet girl,” he positions himself against the headboard, and you shuffle into his side, head against his chest with a hand on his stomach. You press, and he’s warm against your naked body.
Lalo combs his fingers through your locks and twirls the strands. He’s wide awake as you slowly feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness. The man throws a blanket over you, and you hum against him.
“So precious; get some rest, amor. I’m not going anywhere.”
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You wake up to the smell of pig fat frying and the sound of eggshells cracking. There’s no one in your bed, and you’re tucked into the covers with your head lying flat against the pillow. You nestle into the blanket, pulling it to your chest as you bend your knees and curl into a ball. The lids of your eyes feel drawn with sleep, and they almost flutter shut before you glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 5:50, you had to be at work for 7, and the realisation is what threw your body from beneath the covers onto the carpeted floorboards.
Your clothes from last night are folded and placed nicely on your dresser. Smiling, you pick them up and plop them into the washing basket before getting dressed in your uniform. It’s pretty frumpy, and it’s frustrating that you have to cover your tattoos, but it could be worse.
When you finally enter the hall and walk to the kitchen, the smell of bacon grease and eggs grows more potent with each step. Lalo’s stood at your stove, flipping an omelette and poking at the bacon with your spatula.
“Good morning,” lips curled up slightly; you slide alongside him as he plates the food onto two colourful dishes. “Buenas Dias, amorcita, you slept well?”
Nodding, you move to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup. The steam from the liquid warms your cheeks as you proceed with the mug to sit at the small table parallel to the stove. Lalo slides the plate in front of you, to which you thank him with a kiss on the cheek when he comes back with a knife and fork. “Thank you, it looks amazing… usually I just have a pop-tart or some toast and leave.”
Lalo scoffs and sits down with his plate and a cup of coffee at his side, the same cup he’d had when you entered the room. “No, no, there’ll be none of that, basura. You have a busy job, hm? Gotta have a good breakfast to give you energy.”
“I suppose so.” you cut some of the omelette and fork it into your mouth. The softness of the eggs effortlessly melted between your teeth as you chewed, the salt-to-pepper ratio was perfect, and you think he even added some of your spices, which was a pleasant surprise. Bland food makes you want to vomit. He takes a bite of the food, and audibly groans “not half bad, if I do say so myself.”
“Not half bad? Don’t be humble. You’re an amazing cook, Lalo.”
He chuckles and eats some more, taking a sip of the coffee to wash it down. Your cup is steaming, so you refrain from taking long swigs to not burn your tongue.
“So, work today… I’ll drop you off, if you’d like.” he taps at the table with, as though tapping along to a song in his head. “No, it’s alright… I’ll have to drive home”
“I’ll pick you up and drop you off, I’m pretty free today, not much stuff to do other than pick up some things for the restaurant”
You bite the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you think. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you” deep down, the selfish part of you wanted Lalo to pick you up and drop you off. As you finished your food sat across from him- slowly chewing to not make a mess despite your appetite- you wondered why he’d decided to stay the night and whether or not he’d even slept at all.
“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have offered, querida”
The man sat across from you finished his food relatively quickly, and it made sense. He’s bigger than you, he can fit more food in his mouth. That, or maybe you’d spent half the time he’d spent eating watching him with your sleep filled eyes. Struggling to form any semblance of coherent thought as you admire the way he moves before you.
“I- alright, I’ve gotta be there for 7:00, so I’m gonna go freshen up in the bathroom and then we can go if that’s alright with you?” You join him at the sink as he dips his hands into the soapy water, a veil of bubbles lacing his fingers as he takes the plate from you with a smile. “That’s fine by me, I won’t rush you, you’ll be there.” Lalo pressed a kiss to your hairline, his nose in your hair as he does. Having not showered yet, you hope the smell of dry shampoo smells as good as the regular shampoo you’d normally use on work nights.
“Thanks Lalo, don’t bother drying them I’ll do that later when I get back from work”
He goes to open his mouth, but closes it again as you pace out of the room, starting toward your bathroom to get ready. Once having finished with the dishes, he places them both carefully on the drying rack alongside the non-stick pan and cutlery he’d placed out. Your coffee had been reduced to a grainy paste at the bottom of the mug, so he washed that out and cleaned it too.
As you were busy getting ready, he headed back into your bedroom and started on your bed. He began by straightening out the quilt and sheets, along with your bears which now sat facing him. He picked one up, the one you'd latched onto last night in your sleep, and he raised it to his nose and breathed in. It smells… sweet. It smells of you, your distinct, natural smell that he just wants to marinate in. It’s not like your shampoo or body wash, but more flesh-like in nature. Must be the pheromones, or something. He didn’t remember much from his biology classes in high school, most of what he’d learned just miraculously appeared to him whenever (or wherever) he needed it.
As Lalo continued to pot around your bedroom, occasionally picking up little trinkets you’d left out, you washed your face and applied a light amount of makeup, enough to cover the bags under your eyes and any blemishes. With the heat, you couldn’t handle a full face. By 12pm it would’ve melted off anyway, so there was no real point in attempting to try. You then brushed your teeth and tidied up your hair, finding it strange how there was a man only a few metres away from where you were currently standing. It was so unbelievably odd, waking up to breakfast, to a person. It was different, but the bubbling feeling in your stomach and the smile on your face - one you hadn’t forced either - upon seeing Lalo cooking away as though this house were his own was nice.
“Lalo, you really didn’t have to make my bed I-I could’ve done that just fine”
“Nonsense querida, you were busy getting all pretty for work, no? I always wondered how you did it,” he began, sighing. You tilt your head, as though to tell him you hadn’t really understood what he meant by that. “I’ve always wondered how you manage to look beautiful even in your work clothes, it’s just so effortless for you, isn’t it?” Lalo said that whilst wiping his hands together, he’s done now, and reaches for his jacket from the night before. You walk over and cup a hand to his cheek, pulling him down to your lips.
You keep him like that for a moment, and his hands move to your waist. There’s a hum from him, and your lips curve upwards against his. His moustache tickles a little beneath your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princesa.”
“I know… fuck… I hate that I have to go to work this early”
“I do too, but we better get going. If you’re late people will begin to suspect something… my tío will, anyway.. he’ll think I’ve stolen you from him”
You pick up your work bag and check if you have everything inside. You do, but freeze when Lalo mentions Hector. “He knows about this?”
Lalo shrugs, his shoes clicking against the floor as he makes his way to the door. “I haven’t said anything, but I think he knows. He’s… a pretty smart guy”
“Yeah, I gathered so, I’d love to talk with him”
Lalo chuckles, and it’s almost a scoff as you open the door and both step out into the warmth of the Albuquerque morning. “Nah, you don’t, he’d probably say something offensive or a stupid joke you wouldn’t get. Probably something about Americans.”
You blush slightly and nod, locking your door before joining Lalo by his side- making your way to his car which is still parked in the same place as it was yesterday. “I- not that he doesn’t like you.” He began, hands shoved into his pockets. “You’d know if he didn’t like you, he’s just like that with everyone… kinda… tough on the outside” he waves his hand, and you grin at him from behind your hand, your bags straps sit at your elbow, and it hangs down by your hip.
“I know, my grandpa can be like that… and my moms last couple of boyfriends.”
“You lived with your grandparents growing up?”
“Well, not really.” Lalo unlocks the car, and you step into your side. He shuts the door and you smile at him through the panel of glass keeping you apart.
When he’s seated alongside you, you continue, because he looks as though he’s still listening despite the conversation being momentarily interrupted.
“I went over every day after school and wound up staying until dark and then I’d walk home… probably couldn’t get away with that now with all the creeps around but… my mom was usually out with her boyfriends so I didn’t really have much of a choice.”
He hums, and you feel empty looking back at the memories of your youth. You always felt as though you’d wasted a majority of your childhood and adolescence. You had spent most of it taking care of your drunken father, so in a way it was stripped from you, but still, the pain was there. Like a cavity within your chest, it should have been filled with the happy memories of going out with friends and birthday parties. Though, most pleasant memories were tarnished by an explosive argument between your parents. Much like this conversation.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare”
He shook his head and placed a hand to your shoulder, a small smile curving against his lips, his moustache rising with the corners of his mouth. “Don’t ever apologise, you can talk about whatever you want with me hm? There’s no such thing as ‘oversharing’ with me querida.”
Despite his kindness, the pessimistic side of your psyche wondered whether or not the kindness in Lalo’s actions and words was to substitute for something much more sinister. Anyone normal would feel somewhat overwhelmed hearing all this, but Lalo didn’t seem phased whatsoever. Like he’d heard much worse, or experienced something as a child that had been just as bad - if not more terrible.
“You’re too kind to me Lalo, really, I don’t get you sometimes”
The elder man's smile remained, though he raised a brow as he started up the car “yeah? Well, most people don’t… but… you really don’t have to ‘get’ anything, I’m an open book”
“But…Sometimes even open books can be hard to understand if there’s a deeper meaning beneath the surface, don’t you think?”
He hummed at that, and brushed it off as though it were something that happened with everyone. By the time you got to work, you had a few minutes to spare. When you got out and turned to the entrance (he had parked- much to your distaste- at the very front of the building like a taxi would when dropping someone off) he rolled down his window, an arm leaning over the edge.
You sigh, and walk back over, leaning down with your hand against the doorframe. “Not even a goodbye kiss from my girl hm?” Lalo mused, and you rolled your eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste, quick kiss to his lips. He followed by pecking your own a few times, his hand coming to your hair. You sigh against him, and keep your lips against his for a little longer. With your eyes closed and the sliding doors behind you, it’s almost easy to forget where you are.
But, inevitably someone clears their throat, it’s Jen, smoking a cigarette a few paces away. Her jaw slack.
You wipe the smudged lip gloss against the inside of your sleeve and bid Lalo another goodbye. He waves you off and beeps before reversing and turning out back onto the main road.
“What was that?” Jen finally manages, stubbing out a cigarette with her pumps. You scoff, “What was what?” the flush of your cheeks giving everything away. You didn’t even have to say anything incriminating, she knew exactly what was going on.
“I guess he’s not bad on the eyes, but perhaps a little old for you though?”
“Old… Lalo’s not old,” you rebuke her argument, and she laughs at how defensive you get over something so trivial as his age. “Besides we’re just friends”
Jen laughs out loud, walking with you through the front door and to the desk where you both sign in. Her messy signature scrawled beneath your own. “Yeah because I tongue all my friends in public, at WORK no less…, if management found out you were fraternising with a patient's nephew…” she hissed through her teeth, and you slapped her shoulder, not hard, but as if to tell her to lower her voice. “What’s he like anyway? I mean… lookin at him, he looks like he knows how to fuck. Maybe I’ll hit him up after you’re finished with him.”
“Jen, seriously? please don’t tell anyone, it’s nothing serious, he just… he just took me out for a meal to thank me for taking care of Hector, and the sex thing-“ you feel your cheeks and they’re hotter than they were before “we- we didn’t even do anything it was just dinner.”
“Ah so you’re on a first name basis with his relatives now too? Whatever happened to Señor Salamanca?”
“Oh it’s - he won’t be here long anyway… he’s only visiting whilst Hector gets better”
When you both reach the staff room, you place your things in the locker you’ve had since you’d started working at Casa Tranquila, and sanitise your hands with the small bottle you carry with you in your purse. “Yeah, if he gets better, the guys a veggie, he has one foot in the grave and the other on Stephen Hawking’s thro-“
BANG. the sound of metal against metal echoes around the quiet room, most of your coworkers have started their early duties… many of which involved cooking and serving the food to residents and waking those who haven’t already woken up.
“Can you shut up, don’t talk about Hector like that. What the fuck is wrong with you today, Jen?” For a moment, in your burst of rage, she looks shocked. But when that subsides your smoking buddy is overwhelmed by a hollow twang of fear that leaves her mouth dry and her palms sweaty. She hadn’t seen you burst like that before over a joke. “Damn okay, don’t have to get pissy about it… it’s just a damn joke”
“No Jen, I do.” You inhale sharply, as though to prepare yourself “I’m fucking sick of it, why do you think it’s okay to make jokes like that? He’s sick, god knows how terrifying it must be to-to not be able to do anything” Perhaps you’re not only angry about Jennifer’s incredibly ableist comment about Hector, but also iritatied by her constant interference with the personal life you’d only just begun living.
“My sex life is also non of your fucking business. I’m not friends with people like you, I don’t need friends that are horrible people. You give me cigarettes and I give you cigarettes” her jaw falls slack momentarily, as you continue with your monologue. “Our relationship is transactional, and if you think it’s anything more, then I’d get the doctor to take a look at your head, because that’s fucking delusional. You think you can talk about people like that and call yourself my friend? No way.”
“It was a joke-“
“A joke, not a joke, people say offensive shit all the time and use it being a ‘ joke ‘ as some sort of cheap cover up. If you’re going to be a prick, own it, because coming up with excuses like that makes you look absolutely pathetic.”
You think you see tears pool at the older woman’s waterline. She throws her stuff into her locker and sniffles against her sleeve. For a moment you feel bad,
but that brief moment of guilt is washed away when she storms off to go and wake up Sandy and Cheryl.
It’s a bit ridiculous, how Jen felt as though she could talk like that and not expect someone to say something. She’d been saying things like that about residents, Pearl, Dorothy, Stephen, for quite some time. It had been getting on your nerves for so long, but your growing nicotine addiction outweighed your courage to say anything. Though perhaps it had been your relationship with Lalo that made you feel so strongly about the way Jen had joked about Hector's state.
At 11, you found yourself once again sat by the elder Salamanca's side. Everything Lalo had told you about him at the park, the stories, they made you smile and filled you with a bittersweet sadness that he couldn’t elaborate himself. Supposedly, the man had once been quite wild, though a part of you wondered if that was before or after they’d established the family's restaurant business down in Mexico. It didn’t seem to fit Hector as well as it did Lalo, considering his amazing cooking skills. Perhaps he specialised in something else, and it were Lalo’s parents- his mother and father - that’d begun it. He never mentioned them, only ever talking about Hector. It made you curious, but at the same time you understood how painful it could be talking about family.
“Are you hungry? I can go and get you something to eat, breakfast didn’t look all that appetising today..” shifting forward in your seat, you place your book down and keep your eyes set on the elder Salamanca. Who shakes his finger over the bell for a few seconds before striking it. The sound echoed around the rec room, and you smiled, nodding. “It’ll probably have to be something soft, I hope you don’t mind… is that alright?” He rings again, his lips wriggling as he looks at you pleadingly behind his eyes. It’s hard to imagine that only a few decades ago this man was dunking his nephews heads underwater- a strange form of affection, but affection at that.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
You ladle some birria for the old man and add a few herbs atop the chunks of soft veg that float on the surface. It smelled amazing, and your stomach even grumbles when you plug in the handheld blender and adjust the settings. The low buzz and vibration from the blender head when you apply pressure into the bowl reminds you of your phone, not the new one that Lalo had bought for you, but the one he had snapped and tossed to the back of his car. A fancier, much nicer car than the one you drove to and from work, day in and day out. The trill of the blender against the ceramic bowl for a second brings you back to that embarrassing moment where you broke down, and you feel your grip tighten. You rub your thumb against the tiny silicone mounds and even if you don't want to, with your other hand steadying the bowl, you imagine red. Red soup? Thick and churning in a bowl, little slug-like clots forming in the pool.
And then, as you stare out, a hand places itself upon your shoulder. “Hey, you okay? That soups starting to look like… well.. Dishwater”
It's Neil. You flash a smile up in his direction. It’s sweet, kind, and you even think you see him blush a little. Though that could just be a part of his naturally pasty, ruddy complexion.
“Actuallly, Neil, Birria is a sort of stew,” he rolls his eyes at your reply, “although i guess…” tapping the head of the blender against the rim of the bowl, you hand it to him and he graciously accepts. “ I guess this is more of a soup now… oh well,”
Neil chuckles and flicks some of the birria from his fingers, his laugh sounds a little forced, you think, as you grab a pinch of parsley and use it to garnish the surface of the birria-soup.
“I’m sure Salamanca won’t care, tastes good today I bet, Kev’s on cooking duty.”
“Yeah? Well that sounds swell, Neil.” you say, dismissively grabbing a silver spoon, tossing your head back in an attempt to move hair from your face. “Well, i’ll be seeing you”
You turn and start toward the swinging canteen doors, but he calls after you- even goes to grab your sleeve.
“wait - i- do you wanna go grab something to eat later? Dinner, maybe?”
For his own sake you stand and hum, thinking through your very scarce agenda for the evening. “I'm sorry Neil, I’m out tonight but maybe some other time, yeah?”
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
After spoon feeding Hector (which, to your dismay, you think he enjoyed a bit too much) you use the majority of your break to read more of ‘the count of monte cristo’, and the remaining quarter to text Lalo Salamanca.
‘Hey Lalo :) ‘
He replies relatively quickly.
‘Hola, querida, you good?’
As your eyes wander along the message, you smile to yourself- you can’t help it. Everytime you read his messages you can just imagine the deep rumbling of his voice, and even worse the feeling of your head against his chest.
‘Yeah just on break :)’
He doesn't reply for a bit, and instead, your phone goes off in the middle of the rec room. You silence it quickly, muttering ‘sorry’ beneath your breath to the few people sitting inside on such a hot day. Hector stares at you for a second too long, and you have a weird feeling from within your gut that he somehow knows what you and his nephew are up to, like Lalo said he sould. It was silly, really. How embarrassed and flustered you felt, but nonetheless, despite your age it did feel as though an adult had just walked in on you and your secret, ‘not-so-boyfriend’ boyfriend. You were 17 years old again, hiding away in your room holding hands beneath the covers.
Once having slipped through the back doors and into the smoking area, you lift the phone to your ear. He’s the first to speak, and the nerves from a moment ago instantly subside at the sound of his voice.
“Buenas tardes amor, how’re you hm? Bet tio has been keeping you on your feet”
“Well,” you begin, leaning up against the outside wall, a good few metres away from the rec room. “You’d be right, in his own way your tio keeps me very busy- almost like he doesn’t want me spending time with any of the other residents.”
Lalo chuckles, and mutters something fast in his native tongue that you don’t quite grab. “Ah same old tio, the guy can pick em’”
You laugh to yourself, although it's more of a huff as you bashfully straighten out your clothes to keep your hands busy. “Yeah? Well, i guess you two have a similar taste in women.”
“Hmm sorta, though i- he doesn’t like you in the same way i like you, i think.” you imagine Lalo scratching at his moustache as he speaks through the phone. “He just- he enjoys your company, no? And i mean… he may be paralysed but the guy isn’t blind, he can tell the.. What’s the saying again… the wheat..”
“Wheat from the chaff, i think is what you’re looking for, Lalo” you say, and he echoes it back. You can’t get over how animated he sounds, even through the phone.
“Si, niña inteligenteeee!… you’re speedy, huh? Gotta be all that reading you do”
You raise a hand and cup your cheek to find it warm - in spite of the shade in which you stand. You can hear his smile as he talks and visualise what he’s doing - probably cooking at the restaurant, maybe driving somewhere.
“I guess, you should let me read to you.. it might help you get a good night sleep, a few residents in here like when i read to them”
“Someones feeling cocky today, are you tryna call me old, again?”
fuck. “I didnt mean it like that-”
He bursts out laughing from his end, and you realise from yours how his laugh sometimes reminds you of a disney villain. Damn, if Lalo were a disney villain, he’d be a sexy one. “I’m just teasing you bebita… though you did say you like em old…”
Scoffing, you lean your head back against the wall “Not that old, Lalo.”
He’s silent for a moment and a quiet ‘yeah’ falls past his lips in a sigh.
“hey so i was wondering, princesa…” you grin at the nickname, cheeks flushed as you weave the ends of your hair between your fingers.
“How about you stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook dinner, we can watch one of those old movies… be nice, get to know each other a bit better”
You hum to yourself - as though you actually had to think about what the answer would be. “Hmm sure, I can do that… though first you’re gonna have to drop me back at my place so I can get my things ready”
“Not a problem, what do you want for dinner? I’ll have to go pick up some ingredients…”
“Surprise me”
A loud creaking sound erupted from behind you, and you watched as Neill wheeled out a few of the residents into the warm Albuquerque air. You waved a hand to him, as Lalo continued to talk from his end of the phone. You couldn’t quite pick up what he’d been saying, yet when you brought your attention back to him, he seemed almost aware of your distraction.
“You there?”
“Yeah sorry, just work… I might have to go but, I’ll see you later alright? Sorry I couldn’t talk for longer… gotta start preparing lunch for the rest of the residents”
Lalo hummed and you could feel the warmth of his smile through the receiver, his free hand gripping the leather wheel.
“Don’t apologise, hermosa. You’re a busy woman, I like that.”
You blush- biting at your fingernails as Lalo’s thick voice thaws at your burning anxiety- leaving you vulnerable in a similar way to how he had last night, with his head between your thighs.
“You’re too sweet Lalo… I’ll talk to you later,”
“Of course, hasta luego mi amor”
With that you hear the phone beep, just as Hector's pushed outside by Neil, you slip your phone into your pocket and straighten out your uniform.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
You sent him a quick text once your shift was over. It was at times like this that you savoured your flexible hours and the fact you rarely - if ever - handled the Night Shift. Mainly because you thought it was unbelievably boring, but also because - despite the contents of your day - you enjoyed staying on your toes at all times. What was the point in working as a caretaker for the elderly if the elderly were all sleeping?
You’d been waiting outside Casa Tranquila for what felt like hours- but when you looked at your watch, it had only really been 15 minutes. Still, somewhat strange considering Lalo was almost always on time- sometimes even early just to surprise you - whenever he’d pick you up… like that time he took you to the park.
Having neglected your jacket at home, you retreated inside and sat in the waiting room- intended for visitors who had to sign paperwork of some sort before entering. It felt like it went unused a lot of the time, but for moments like this it helped.
Although, you’d much rather be sat in Lalo’s car, his hand on your thigh as he drove with such effortless skill through the streets of New Mexico.
It felt as though with every passing minute you looked to check your cell phone. It was new, so it’s not like you weren’t receiving his attempts to contact you, right?
At 8:45pm, your phone began to vibrate against your calf- which was now pulled up alongside the other on the cloth sofa. The LED call screen flashed up at your tired, sunken eyes: ‘unknown’ scrawled in pixelated letters that had your stomach drop to your feet.
Hesitantly, you flipped the cover and raised the cell to your ear- you couldn’t hear anything on the other side and instead hoped the stranger spoke up first.
“Hello?”
You swallow back the lump in your throat, the voice on the other end was gruff, they sounded almost angry, frustrated with you for something you were currently unaware of. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Nacho, its- it’s Nacho Varga- a friend of Lalo’s” you could have commented on the tone nacho used just now- as though he didn’t consider himself a friend of Lalo’s whatsoever- and far from it.
“Nacho, hey, is everything okay?”
There’s a pause before Nacho hums from his side of the phone and you know by the moment of silence - where the man on the other end tried to think of how to answer - that something must have happened.
“Nacho? What is it? Tell me I swear to god I’ve been-“
“Lalo, it’s Lalo. He’s in prison.”
#lalo salamanca x reader#better call saul x reader#eduardo ‘lalo’ salamanca x reader#lalo x reader#lalo salamanca#better call saul#breaking bad x reader#shades of cool chapter s(e)ix#shades of cool x reader
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Carrie White!S/O
Lied Shax
Fascinated by your beauty.
At the very beginning, he'll turn into a blushing and stuttering mess next to you.
Gets you addicted to video games, helping you find the genre that you like the most.
When he finds out that you are a human, he'll ask if you had any favorite games in the human world.
When you confessed to him that you had never played something like this before, he was shocked, and then immediately asked why.
This led to you telling him about what happened to you then. And let's just say that Lied wasn't amused by this.
Helps you train your telekinesis by studying theoretical material and attempting to put it into practice.
If you allow, he'll steal one of your five senses to make it harder for you.
Picero Agares
He's okay with your quiet nature. He loves to sleep very much, and you actually doesn't bother him.
Although the fact that you are a human came as a real surprise to him, his opinion of you has not changed.
It's worth noting that even when you get louder, Picero doesn't get too mad at you.
Noticing that you don't seem confident when it comes to romantic relationships, concludes that you've already had a bad experience in the past.
When he learns the details of your experience, as well as the rest of his life, he tries to remain calm, but inside boils with rage.
Uses his abilities as a model for your telekinesis.
Create the most convenient training schedule so that you do not have problems.
Elizabetta Ix
Thinks you are the sweetest and kindest girl that has ever existed. And don't care that you're human.
Noticing that you're quite confused due to differences in her nature and attitude, Elizabetta will only laugh and explain that nature shouldn't determine the style of life.
Shares some cute little secrets with you.
Helps to socialize and make more friends.
When you told her about your past, she cried like crazy, trying to understand how humans can be so monstrous.
Every time she has the opportunity, she hugs you, whispering sweet and pleasant words in your ear, making it clear that she cares about you and that you also deserve happiness.
During training, she will monitor your emotional and mental state, because she believes that this also matters.
Kamui Caim
Please don't ask how you started dating.
Given your religious upbringing that sex in any form is a sin, and Kamui's perverted behavior, even you two can't help but wondering how on earth you become a couple.
However, it is worth noting that you have a positive influence on each other: he helps you become more confident in yourself and understand that sex is not always bad, and you keep his perversy under control.
When you told him about your nature, he unobtrusively asked you about human female body, but, realizing that you don’t know too well, decided to close this topic.
After learning about your past, Kamui was ready to burst from anger. How dare these pigs do this to you!?
Often uses his abilities to bring animals to you to keep you company while he is busy.
Being a gentleman, he does his best to become perfect boyfriend to you.
Brings books from the library so you can learn telekinesis better.
Kerori Crocell
Due to the fact that you both have low self-esteem and are rather kind, it was no surprise to anyone that you first became friends and then started dating.
During each of her concerts, she looks for you in the crowd and rejoices when finds you.
Helps to understand that music that differs from church hymns is not bad.
Interested in your telekinesis and wonder how you got it. After all, according myths, people do not have abilities.
Teaches to perceive it not as a curse, but as a gift.
After finding out about your past, Kerori feels nothing but anger and hatred for those who bullied you.
Proud of you when you told her what you did in return.
Bring you any source of telekinesis information you ask for.
Goemon Gaap
Your relationship was a little troublesome at first due to your shyness and his problems understanding personal space.
After you confessed to him that you are human, he was surprised, but that didn't stoped him from spending time with you.
Helps you make new friends, in hope that you will not be as lonely as in the human world.
Speaking of human world. Goemon is usually sweet and benevolent, but that didn't stop him from getting angry over what happened to you back then, so much so that he almost fell into an wicked phase.
After calming down, he apologizes for his reaction and makes it clear that he is not angry with you.
Jokingly remarks that if any of the two of you are creepy, it's him. You will have to convince him that you still love him, even if he has a rather scary face.
Like Kerori, he will get everything that can help you in mastering telekinesis.
Soi Purson
He will teach you how to hide if you still wanna be as aloof as possible.
When Soi has free time, he loves to talk to you.
Can play the trumpet to cheer you up.
Found out that you're human a long time ago, because he accidentally overheard you talking to yourself.
One day you told him about your life in the human world. It was the first time he had felt pure, distilate anger.
Tries to choose a secluded place for training so that no one disturbs you.
Alternates between all known methods of training telekinesis in order to select the most effective one and focus on it.
#welcome to demon school! iruma kun#welcome to demon school! iruma kun x reader#mairimashita! iruma kun#mairimashita! iruma kun x reader#lied shax#lied shax x reader#picero agares#picero agares x reader#elizabetta ix#elizabetta ix x reader#kamui caim#kamui caim x reader#kerori crocell#kerori crocell x reader#goemon gaap#goemon gaap x reader#soi purson#soi purson x reader
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𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 - lee minho (from the vault)
pairing: lee minho x reader (bewitched series part nine, from the vault)
genre: angst but not really, hurt/no comfort, non!idol au, university!au, unrequited love
wc: 1k
warnings: mentions of sex (mdni), mentioms of alcohol, lowkey fwb!minho, language, slightly religious terminology, yn is very self-deprecating, min is lowkey a dick??, kinda depressing if you ask me
a/n: this was the original idea for minho, but my best friend ults him and really wanted smth fluffy...therefore anything for my bae 😔 but i really loved it and after i scrapped the idea it was like on my mind for quite a bit so we're tayloring this and releasing as a vault fic!! enjoy <3
cracks of moonlight shone through the curtained windows of the small apartment. the idea of it was serene, soft music coming from somewhere you couldn't fathom.
you'd have to sneak back downstairs to the party, full of drunk people dancing and doing things they'd regret in the foreseeable future. god, your friends would kill you for fucking a guy the night before an exam.
all of it was worth it though, if you were in bed with lee minho.
and yet, your feelings were hardly discernible.
lips painted a deep magenta from red wine pressed against each other with nothing but lustful intentions, the sound of skin against skin as two souls merged.
it was unbearable.
when the night ended, he lay in the bed's soft sheets beside you, fingertips barely grazing each other. you wanted to curl up next to him, make yourself comfortable, stay intertwined for as many times as the earth would orbit its golden companion.
"min," you mumbled. "are you awake?"
he nodded, rolling over to face you. "make it quick, yn. i'm really tired."
"do you think we'll ever be more than fuck-buddies?" you didn't want the question to slip off your tongue, but you knew he was most vulnerable at night.
"want me to be honest? not really. you know we're both in it for the sex, anyways. plus, i've got a bad temper and you're so sweet. we'd be a horrid couple." he replied bluntly. "now actually sleep, please. if you don't want to, the door's on your side." and then he rolled back over, his breathing becoming steady as he dozed off. not even realizing the toll his words had on you.
you let your head sink into the pillow, mirroring your sinking heart as your eyelids fluttered shut. a single tear crept from the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek. as if it was some unthinkable crystalline fragment, you delicately wiped it off your face, keeping it in your hand.
this is better than nothing, your brain murmured softly. why are your eyes misty? be grateful he's asleep beside you.
you'd do what you always did. push out the insensitive words, let his sweet nothings replay in your head until you were numb. allowing yourself to let him have you for the night, morosely wiping away every drop of ink that fell from your quill as you signed a deal with the devil.
you fucking sinner.
when you awoke the next morning, you were alone. as always, minho left before the sun's early awakening, stuffing your hopes and dreams into his bag and leaving with them.
this time, you swore. swore that you'd never be entangled in his web again. swore that you should never waste your time and energy for someone who didn't love you like you loved them. swore that this would end.
but...it didn't.
lee minho continued to haunt your life, mind, soul, and dreams, withering away at you until you were a husk.
...
"i can't believe you got an a after that hangover, holy shit." hyunjin said as you sat on the sofa beside him. "i guess you really did prove me wrong when it came to you winging shit like that."
you giggled, swatting his shoulder slightly. you were honestly focusing more on what your peripheral vision was seeing than your best friend. minho lived in this house. what if he was here right now?
"i'm going to go use the bathroom, see you in a bit." you said quickly, hyunjin nodding as he pulled out his phone. as you slipped into the bathroom, you left the door cracked, and looked into the mirror. what was it about you, you thought, scrutinizing every miniscule detail of your anatomy, that turned minho away? what compelled him to leave you, to run away from your touch?
it was like he only craved it temporarily, for his own pleasure.
as you stared at yourself, the door slowly swung open to reveal the man of your darkest nightmares and loveliest dreams standing, looking at you in a way you knew all too well.
"is that rose-scented perfume?" minho asked, slowly coming closer. you nodded hesitantly, turning to face him. his gaze was intoxicating. dark, brooding men had always been the death of you.
but you made a promise. you swore.
"it is. do you have a problem with it?" when he remained silent, his lips pressed together to form a tight line, you briskly walked past him. "if you have nothing to say, i'm going back down to hyunjin."
before you could move, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to his chest. your heart started rapidly pounding as he kissed you passionately.
"shut the fuck up and let me kiss you." he hissed, before going right back into it. and goddamn it, you had no complaints.
you let his lips slip down to your neck and collarbone. they moved swiftly, knowing exactly where your sensitive spot was.
you let him pull you into his bedroom, dimming the lights as he pushed you down. you let him cover your mouth with one hand, so that hyunjin would be completely oblivious to what you had been doing.
but you broke a promise.
you swore as his hands roamed across your bare skin, enjoying every scrap of his affection you could receive, like a pitiful, malnourished dog. every sound that left his swollen lips was a mournful hymn that your starving cochlea relished.
you loved lee minho like you loved the blue sky and soft wind of august. but in the most tragic of ironies, he wasn't yours to love in the first place.
he wasn't yours to lose, either.
so you allowed yourself to relinquish your spirit to him. one day, your ghost would melancholically travel this world searching for his soul in the afterlife, and he would spurn you there too.
being haunted by a man like him was simply sickening.
and yet, you craved it.
@evermourning ©2023, all rights reserved.
taglist:
#evermourning#bewitched set...entry ix#ren writes!! <3#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#lee know#lee minho#lee know x reader#x reader#lee minho x reader#minho x reader#from the vault#you bewitched me // fin.
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Across the Stars IX
Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Summary: Hunter opens up to Omega. Your life on Ibaar is suddenly interrupted.
A/N: Thank you all for reading! There will be no Hunter in the next couple chapters after this one, but some major things are taking place. Let me know what you think!
Series Masterlist
Cid’s parlor is more crowded than usual. Music plays overhead, another one of Cid’s jukebox mixes. There’s a general sense of merriment in the air but Hunter cannot find it in himself to acknowledge it as he sits at the bar nursing his drink. None of the team can.
Tech and Echo sit in a booth in the back of the room while they look over the Marauder’s hyperspace transponder that had been damaged. Wrecker and Omega sit on opposite sides of a Dejarik board. The game is nearly finished, its completion signaled by the sound of Wrecker groaning in defeat. A minute passes before Omega appears beside Hunter at the bar.
He notices Omega casting glances at him from his peripheral vision. She looks like she wants to say something, but stops herself.
“What is it, Omega?” Hunter asks, turning in his seat to face her.
“I didn’t want to keep pushing before because you didn’t seem ready to talk about it.” Omega pauses. her expression is one of trepidation. “So I asked the others…but they wouldn’t tell me much.”
“About what?”
Omega takes a quick glance around the room, making sure there aren’t any curious eyes or lingering ears. She says your name. Barely above a whisper, but Hunter hears it. “Who is she?”
“She’s someone I care about very much.”
Hunter sighs. He knew this moment would come eventually. The kid is curious by nature. It’s a trait he admires and wants to nurture. Her innocence and need to question what she doesn’t understand challenges him to think about his own outlook and purpose in life. He wasn’t ready so soon after Scarif to talk about you, and so he had gently dodged Omega’s questions. But now, after what they had all lost, he doesn’t want to hide what he feels. He’s done enough of that in his life already.
“Did you tell her how you feel?” Omega asks.
“In a way.” His eyes jump to the necklace hanging from her neck. “But I never said the words out loud.”
“Why not?”
“It’s…complicated.”
Omega lowers her head, the thoughtful pinch between her eyebrows appears. “But does she know?”
“I think she might have before,” Hunter says. His finger traces the rim of his glass. “But now I’m not so sure.”
“Does it feel the same?” Omega’s voice is softer now. Sorrow threatens to spill out of her. “As losing Kamino?”
Hunter is silent, at first unable to answer. Kamino was their home. During the war he knew it was out there waiting for him, and when he and his brothers returned it was the most secure feeling to be able to settle down and regroup. But everything changed when he saw you. And again after the first time you slept together. A different kind of fondness crept into his heart. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and it caused an undeniable shift within him. He found himself wondering what life would be like with you by his side. Not just when you had been assigned to the same battlefronts. But with him and the team during missions and the long journeys it took to reach them. Then when the war ended, Hunter feared he’d see less of you. Though not in the way he’d imagined, he ended up being right.
It’s not clear to him when you became such a fixed point in his life. Your absence had always been apparent to him. When you were apart he always anticipated the next time he would get to see you again. But only now that you’ve been cleared from any map he could have followed to find you again, he concludes home can never be complete without you.
Hunter realizes he’s been silent for too long, but Omega sits patiently, watching him and waiting for his response. He decides to be honest with her.
“Yes,” he admits. “And more.”
He sees the way Omega’s face shifts. There are still more questions she tosses around in her head, but he knows she’s not ready to fully open up about Kamino either. So a silent understanding passes between them to continue this discussion at a later time.
Hunter watches Omega hop off the seat and make her way toward Tech and Echo. With another sigh he faces the bar and tosses back the rest of his drink.
The day starts like any other. You and the children eat breakfast before you go your separate ways for another day of work. The same promises to see each other in the evening are exchanged. It’s another day on Ibaar.
On the ride to the farm that morning you feel a prodding in the back of your mind. You linger on it for a moment before Gungi draws your attention to a pack of wild Ibaarian wolves. The lithe silver creatures keep your attention until they vanish into the trees, then you find yourself lost in the natural beauty of the valley.
While you work, you come to a realization that you’ve become somewhat lax since coming to Ibaar. While you do your best to stay vigilant for any suspicion that could arise from your and the children’s presence you’ve found yourselves in a steady routine. Between work and secret training in the mountains on days off, life on Ibaar has come to be as close to what life was before your exile. Part of you even starts to believe that your stay could become permanent.
You dwell on this possibility throughout the day. But it’s not until you and Gungi arrive back in town does that possibility burst into flames. The torch that ignites it comes in the form of the Imperial shuttles that fly menacingly overhead, landing in an open field at the edge of town.
Dread fills you when the ramps come down and squads of troopers emerge. They hold blasters against their chests as they march down the main road. You instinctively take hold of Gungi’s arm to pull him behind you. Others on the street have now slowed down to watch the parade of visitors line either side of the street. An officer in a grey uniform walks down the center, more troopers escorting him from behind, and turns to enter the Town Hall building.
Some of the locals stay put. But others, like yourself, have the same idea. You don’t waste time, tugging Gungi along with you as you start in the direction of home. You know the ultimatum the Imperial officer will give the mayor. Pledge allegiance to the Empire or be forcefully occupied. You’ve never met the mayor, but you’ve heard good and honorable things about her. Which means you know what her answer will be.
By the time you’re a street away from home, chaos erupts sooner than you hoped. Cries of terror start near Town Hall and quickly draw nearer.
There are others hurrying beside you down the street. You pull Gungi forward when you see the door to your home. Petro and Tara stand outside, expressions clouded with worry.
A pained cry comes from behind. You stop in your tracks, turning to see the old couple who live two doors down be roughly pulled out of their home by a trooper.
“Gungi,” your voice is laced with urgency, “Go home. Tell the others to stay inside. No one is to come out. Is that clear?”
He hesitates, voicing his concern for you.
“I’ll be fine.” You push him forward as you repeat, “Go.”
Gungi obeys you after another moment of hesitation. You watch him as he runs forward and is embraced by Tara. You hear another cry and turn around to see the old couple being forced to the ground. You immediately sprint toward the trooper, pulling him away from the couple.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks you, clearly agitated.
“Leave them alone.” You put yourself between him and the two on the ground.
“Step aside.” The trooper raises his blaster. “Or you’ll be next.”
But you don’t back down. Instead, you raise your chin in defiance.
The trooper lets out an irritated growl before he tries to grab you. But you easily dodge his reach and twist his arm behind his back, kicking the back of his knees and forcing him to the ground.
You don’t see the two other troopers until it’s too late. They rush forward and tackle you through the open door and you land roughly inside the couple’s home. You get to your feet quickly, but one trooper has an electric prod and jabs you in the side with it. You fall to your knees and are shoved backward again. Another wave of electricity shocks you and you groan, your brain becoming foggy with pain.
The troopers raise their weapons. You expect blaster fire. The searing heat of the impact.
But it doesn’t come.
You lift your gaze, almost clear of the shock. And you figure you must still be dazed because you know what you’re seeing can’t be right. The troopers are floating in the air. They flail and holler before being tossed against the wall, slumping on the ground into unconsciousness.
Your eyes trail back toward the front door where you see Tara, brow slowly releasing her concentration and her arms dropping to her sides.
You frown. “Tara?”
She holds your gaze as she walks forward. Her hands, gentle yet strong, take hold of your arms to support you onto your feet. You can’t hold back the disapproving look you give her.
“You shouldn’t have done that. You should have let them do it.“
“They were going to kill you,” Tara argues.
“It doesn’t matter. If it means you and the others are safer then that’s all that matters. That’s all I want.”
She doesn’t push further, but her eyes tell you what she doesn’t say out loud. I’d do it again.
You sigh, knowing you cannot change what has already happened. But time has become your enemy and you need to move as quickly as possible. So you shake your head before leading her out of the couple’s home and over to yours.
You’re both unaware, however, that the trooper you took down earlier witnessed the entire incident, and will be the cause for a new enemy to reveal themselves to the Jedi.
i do not have a taglist. please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.
#catalog#across the stars ix#hunter x reader#hunter x jedi!reader#tbb hunter x reader#the bad batch#star wars#tbb hunter
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Welcome to demon school x Reader Headcannons
How they act when you gift them a flower
Characters: Ameri, Elizabetta, Kerori
❤️- read as romantic
Ameri
- Won’t show how flustered she is
- Internaly she’s freaking out and is thinking about a scene in First Love Memories
- Her voice gets higher when she says her thanks and quickly coughs to try to cover up her squeaky reply
- Disappears pretty fast after that with her flower in hand
- As soon as she’s alone she turns into a tomato, even her ears are flushed
- Appreciates the flower even if it’s just a small thing
- Will have it in a mini flower pot on her desk so she can look at it while working
- Gives you a gift back to show her thanks
Elizabetta
- “Oh my~”
- Does that cute thing were she covers her mouth with the tips of her fingers (see picture above with her name)
- Probably won’t be too flustered, but definitely loves the flower
- Since she already has so many admirers she might be a bit used to it
- You stick out though because you caught her attention by gifting her such a pretty flower
- And also you actually spoke up instead of watching from afar
- Keeps it and makes sure to flatten it when she gets home
- That way she can keep it for longer :)
Kerori
- Surprised for sure
- She gets many flowers when working as a Devi Doll But never when she’s her normal high school self
- So it was a very nice feeling when you came up to her with a flower
- Accepts it with a light blush on her face and ears
- Dosen’t show it much but she really appreciates it
- When she gets home she’ll freeze it into a sphere and keeps it in a cool place
- That way she can preserve it longer :)
#headcannons#x reader#mairimashita! iruma kun#welcome to demon school#welcome to demon school iruma kun#welcome to demon school x reader#Ameri#Ameri x reader#ameri azazel#Ameri azazel x reader#ix elizabetta#elizabetta#elizabetta x reader#elizabetta ix x reader#crocell kerori#Kerori x reader#crocell Kerori x reader#Kerori
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Hi mxdwn readers!
Checkout these exclusive photos of the new Final Fantasy 16 game!
Today is the celebration launch event for the new Final Fantasy and were live streaming it! It will be starting today (June 11, 2023) at 6:45 pm PST.
Go to the Twitch link below to watch and enjoy!
https://www.twitch.tv/mxdwn
#ff#final fantasy#ff16#ff14#final fantasy xvi#final fantasy roleplay#final fantasy unlimited#final fantasy 14#final fantasy fanart#final fantasy ix#final fantasy vii#final fantasy x reader#final fantasy series#joshua phoenix#cidolfus ramuh#benedikta garuda#barnabas odin
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Don't mess with our dad
The great general Furfur was attacked. Somehow, winding up in the hospital with several cuts, a concussion, 3 broken ribs, his left kneecap broken, and a dislocated jaw. The large demon pouting about whatever had occurred.
A nurse walked in and smiled. "Look, general! Someone sent you a "get" well gift!" Showing him the large boutique of flowers that she arranged in the vase next to his bed. As well as a small card. For a demon like Furfur, who understood the meaning of several plants for research purposes that was anything but a gift.
13 types of flowers hidden away in disguised present. 13 flowers, basically screaming at him the same message. It was actually kinda cute how passive-aggressive the warning in it came.
Yellow carnations, meaning rejection. Columbine stood for foolishness, and the Geranium empathized that by adding folly and stupidity to the mix. Hydrangea showed signs of heartless or frigid affection. The lavender indicates deep signals of mistrust.
Orange Lily screams out hatred with its loud coloration. Marigold showed off grief and jealousy, but considering there were also Yellow Roses added, also implying jealousy and infidelity, he knew which way the message leaned. Then came the Peonies for bashfulness and shame.
The Poppies were a consolation of sorts as the Snapdragons spoke of deception and grace. The Zinnia were absent in affection while the Lotus tried to offer enlightenment and rebirth. Something along the lines of... 'Get lost, you jealous pig. I wouldn't even trust you in the next life.'
On the card, there was the entire misfit class, and several of them were holding a "get" well soon banner. It was rather sweet until he spotted his two trainees holding a sign over their heads. In big bold letters, it said. 'DON'T PICK ON DAD AGAIN!'.
Even that was somewhat amusing... until he remembered how he ended up here in the first place. A shudder rushed down his spine cause a brief grunt to escape as it pasted his ribs. Maybe he should wait a bit before he ever decides to visit again.
**the day before**
It was just an average weekend spent at home. All the kids were over and causing mischief. Balam currently had an energetic Clara on his shoulders whilst Iruma and Lied clung to his legs.
Kamui was sitting with Kerori and Elizabetta currently having tea. Alice and Sabro were fighting again, but they weren't destroying anything, so you chalked that up for a win. Picero was taking a nap on his cloud while Goemon, Allocer, and Jazz seemed to be playing some kind of card game.
Which left Soi, who was currently trying to sneak up on Balam with one of your freshly made flower crowns. You giggled as you watched the two of them playfully participate in a game of now you see me. Every time Balam-San would turn to acknowledge the little demon, he would disappear.
Overall, it was a lovely day. Too bad something had to ruin it. A shadow loomed over you, and you glanced up recognizing your uninvited guest. "Hiya cutie, did ya miss me?" General Furfur.
You gave him a blank stare in return. "What are you doing here?" The disinterest in you tone making the answer to his question very clear. "Aw, don't be so cold. Didn't we have fun last time?" That slick smirk stretching across his face.
"I believe I told you already. I don't waste my time with people who don't raise my interest. You had it, but you lost it just as quickly. It's not my fault if you can't maintain something." You shrug before turning back to watch your kids.
Somehow, Soi had either snuck up a tree without Balam-San noticing or the demon had let the boy think that. Either way, he hung precariously above the gargoyles head, shushing a giggling Clara as he dropped the laurel on top of their dad's head.
Shichirou, for his part, blinked and pretended to be surprised when he reached up to touch his head. "What do you even see in him?" You heard the frustration in his voice, and you stiffened.
"I mean, he's so weird, I heard he constantly carried creepy books around as a student, and he is constantly mumbling strange nonsense. So what's there to even like?" You could feel your nails digging into your flesh, your teeth clenching together like a steel trap.
"And you know even if he is strong, he's more of a pacifist, not very demon like if you ask me." Every word seemed to grate on your skin. How dare he?!? How dare he scoff at your husband/mate/whatever this relationship had escalated to.
Standing up, you were ready to send him flying through the garden wall. Only.... someone beat you to it? Well, more like two demon's cause it seemed Alice and Sabro had heard the red demon trash talking their master.
It seems all of your children had heard to actually as they proceeded to gang up on the large general before he could stand. Kicking punching scratching, you even saw iruma bitting him!! Balam cautiously approached you and wrapped an arm around your waist.
"Are you alright?" He whispers softly in your ear, brushing his woven feathers behind your ear as he does. You glance over to him. Seeing your present still firmly in place wrapped by strong vines around his neck. The pretty stone sort of winking in the light.
Reaching up, you wiped your shocked tears off of your face in surprise. Oh! You hadn't realized you were crying. "Yeah, it's just..." looking back in time to see Clara and Sabro holding a large hammer and smashing it on one of Furfurs legs.
"I'm just so proud!" The tears of shock quickly turning into one's of joy. "Look at my babies fighting to defend you! Oh, where's my camera?!" You quickly grabbed your phone and started taking pictures.
The gargoyle shifted somewhere between nervous but also proud. "Shouldn't we stop them?" You waved off his concern. "It will be fine as long as they don't kill him."
#mairimashita! iruma kun#reader#welcome to demon school iruma kun#iruma suzuki#balam shichirou#balam x reader#balam sensei#general furfur#gaap goemon#soi purson#jazz andro#allocer schneider#ix elizabetta#crocell kerori#caim kamui#agares picero#shax lied#clara valac#asmodeus alice#sabnock sabro
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Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader
Rating: SFW
Content Tags: MLB!Miyuki Kazuya, Interpreter!Reader, Coworkers to Friends to ???, Pining, Previous alcohol consumption, Mild flirting, First kiss, Almost confessions, Slight panic, guilt, & frustration, Adult Kazuya is still awkward, Reader is a little older than Kazuya, Reader takes her job very seriously, Mixed signals at the end.
Summary: When Kazuya asked his team with the NPB to be posted, he didn't think he'd end up meeting you again. When time came to choose an interpreter, he chose you without hesitation. Neither of you truly anticipated that feelings would bloom, even with the near constant proximity. Your birthday rolls around and he isn't thinking about his silly little crush until he can't stop thinking about it.
Word Count: 4,590
A/N: I wanted to include the entire story for his birthday but NaNoWriMo came along and took up my attention. So I'm sharing an excerpt instead!
And thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta @tyga-lily. I'd still be floundering if not for you ♡
As soon as he steps out into the night, Kazuya’s met with a wall of humid air, thick and warm thanks to the lingering heat from the day. His clothes are already starting to stick to him as he steps further from the house and it won’t be much longer until he starts to feel beads of sweat building at the nape of his neck. When he turns to find you, his movements feel a little loose and everything seems hazy at the edges and he realizes he’s not as sober as he thought he was.
Still, he’s gotta be soberer than you, what, with the drinking games you were dragged into by your college best friend. He’s honestly lost count of how many shots he took from you throughout the night (and however many more he ended up tossing into the plant him when they became too much).
The music inside dies down a bit—probably the work of your brother, the acting adult of the evening—and he tries to listen for you, only to come up empty. No sounds of your footsteps, neither in the street nor along the staircase leading to the beach, leaving him alone with the increasingly loud beating of his heart.
It’s only been a couple of minutes. How far could you have gone? It’s not like you could’ve made it down to the shore in that time. That doesn’t stop his mind from conjuring scenarios in which you fall into the water, unable to get back up. Moving forward, he ends up tripping over that same rock he’s tripped over three times today, feeling that familiar pain shoot from his toe up his leg.
“Dammit!”
“Miyuki?”
The sound of your voice floods him with relief and he turns his head in your direction. The motion makes him dizzy for half a second. “There you are.”
You pop around the corner, confusion almost as palpable as the humidity before it makes way for your wide grin. “Are you okay? Did the rock attack you again?”
He feels a flash of minor annoyance, but he can’t ignore the way your smile pulls at his own lips. “Shut it.”
“It’s been picking on you all day.” You chuckle, coming closer, letting him see the way you bite your tongue and hold it between your teeth to keep yourself from saying much more. “Aha, sorry. I don’t get to tease you like this often.”
“Yeah, sure.” He closes the distance, grip tightening around the jacket he brought for you in case it got cool. “What are you doing around here? I thought you came outside to get some fresh air.”
“I did, but then I remembered that I left you with them and that didn’t seem like a good idea.” You both glance toward the door, lips quirking at the raucous laughter that comes from inside, almost as if to prove your point. “At the very least, you should have someone to…”
You suck air through your teeth, trying to find the words, so he tries supplying them for you.
“Should I have someone to protect me from them?” He likes the sound of your laugh, the way it bounces between you two before settling on his skin.
“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘you should at least have someone to interpret what they’re saying,’ but sure. Protect works too.” Even when drunk, you’re thinking of him and how to include him. Even when you’re drunk, you’re thinking about working.
“You don’t need to do that. It’s your birthday celebration. You should have fun.”
“I am having fun. You’re lots of fun.”
How do you do that so easily? Heat spreads across his cheeks, settling on the tips of his ears and the back of his neck and his mouth goes dry before he runs his fingers through his hair, thinking of what to say.
“You know, you switch to English a lot when you’re drunk.”
Yep. Awesome. Awesome response, Kazuya.
He watches as the realization hits you—the way you tilt your head to the left as you’re trying to remember, the slow opening of your mouth and raising of your brows before your hand covers your mouth in surprise. “No! What? Have I really?”
A laugh escapes him at your reaction and he feels a little bad when you bury your face in your hands. It’s not often he sees you this unguarded and animated. He’s still laughing when he starts pulling at your fingers, gently prying them away from your face as you eke out an apology. He won’t admit it to you, but he enjoys witnessing these tiny mistakes from you, little hints of proof that there’s more to you than he’s yet to learn.
You once told him you’re an open book, but he’s surprised by how deep the book actually is.
“Seriously. I hardly ever hear you speak so much English unless we’re doing interviews for the media.”
“Yes, almost like that’s entirely by design or something!” Your groan turns into a laugh before you turn away from him, leaving his hand to fall away from yours. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go take a swim until I hit land again.”
Three steps away and his hand is wrapping around your wrist, remembering why he came out here in the first place. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you smile, pulling your arm (and him) forward. “You’re not gonna try to stop me, are you?”
“With how much you’ve had to drink tonight? You definitely need a chaperone.” You wriggle your wrist free, though you slide your hand into his, filling the spaces between his fingers with yours.
“And you wanna be my chaperone? Miyuki. Listen. You’re an absolute baseball genius but I have seen you on the sand today. I’m much better suited to be your chaperone instead.”
“Oi! It was you who assumed I was any good at soccer in the first place.” Snickering beside him, you pull toward the stairs that lead to the sand, stumbling on the first step. His left arm comes out to stabilize you and the grip of his right tightens around your fingers and all it does is make you laugh more. “Who’s tripping over their own feet now, huh?”
Your fingers squeeze his and, when he glances over, you’re sporting a wide, carefree smile, one he’s only recently started seeing more of. Warmth blossoms from where you two touch, quickly spreading from his tingling fingers up his arm, gathering in the center of his chest. It’s impossible to be around you right now.
Looking out at the beach, he finds the minuscule moonlight barely bouncing off the waves in the distance, otherwise leaving everything in the dark. Despite how clear the skies were during the day, clouds have since taken hold in the sky, making everything feel closer than it is. Despite the darkness ahead that threatens to consume everything, it’s like you provide your own source of light, just for the two of you.
All giggles and energy beside him, nearly bounding from the last step once you reach it, only stopping because you’re tethered to him. His grip on your hand loosens and he refuses to acknowledge the fuzzy feeling in his chest when you ignore his offer to let you go, keeping your hand in his. Still, you pull at him, urging him forward at your pace on the uneven terrain.
“You’re such a child,” he says.
“I’m a child? I’m older than you. What does that say about you?”
“That I’m a victim of circumstance.”
Stopping in your tracks, you pull your hand from his grasp, he thinks he said something wrong, but there’s a smile on your lips as you bend down. “You? A victim? You, Miyuki Kazuya, are a great many things, but ‘victim’ isn’t one of them.”
It takes a moment too long before he registers that you’re fiddling with the fastening of your shoes.
“Oi, oi. Don’t take those off.” Looking up at him, you stick out your tongue, not ceasing your efforts to free yourself from your shoes. “You’re gonna complain about your feet being sandy when we reach those steps again.”
“Oh, boo. Let me have some fun.”
He catches himself halfway through running his fingers through his hair, smoothing the rest of it over to stop the nervous tic. “Are you gonna blame me when your feet hurt later?”
You’re silent for a bit, biting your tongue as you think before coming to a decision. “I’ll try not to.” It’s only a second or two more before you’ve successfully freed yourself from your shoes. Looking up at him, you give him a smile that means nothing good, though you wait before stepping away from your shoes. “Miyuki? You’ll let me have fun tonight, right? I hardly ever get to do stuff like this.”
Kazuya’s not sure what it is, but something about the way you ask has his heart kicking up a gear. “Agh, fine.” A false concession, but it keeps a smile on your face. “Just for tonight.”
“Good. I’ll hold my complaints till tomorrow, then!”
And you’re off, jumping up and away from your shoes with little regard for the sand you’ve inadvertently kicked everywhere. The skirt of your dress swishes as you move, catching his eye as it does. He looks away when you carelessly bend over, grabbing your shoes before starting to skip toward the shore.
“Hey! That’s not the agreement.”
“It is now,” you call, the sound of the ocean drowning out your laugh. Only once you’ve reached where the sand grows wet do you pause, looking his way. There’s still a wide smile plastered across your face and his chest grows tight as you step closer to the water.
He picks up his pace, anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of you nearing this massive, black body of water, only spiking when he hears your sharp shriek as the cold water laps at your toes. Despite the chill, you step deeper still until your feet are consistently covered.
Kicking off his shoes, he can’t keep his eyes off of you—the way your dress barely moves with the briefest breeze and the way you subtly shift your weight from one foot to the next as you try to grow accustomed to the cold that contrasts with what little warmth remains. The clouds pass, revealing more of you to him and he’s a little surprised at how much energy you still seem to have.
The sand is cool against his feet, meaning the water is that much colder, but he doesn’t particularly care about that right now. The closer he steps toward you, the less worry he feels for your safety and the more anxiety he feels for something entirely different. You shiver and he remembers the jacket in his hand, taking a moment to place it on your shoulders.
You start, almost as if you had forgotten him, but your smile suggests otherwise. He takes his place beside you, wondering how the hell you’re staying so quiet when the water is fucking freezing.
There’s a light out on the horizon, something that goes in and out with the waves, something to stare at when he becomes too aware of your presence next to him. Clouds pass over the moon again, making everything ahead go pitch black, leaving him with naught but the beating of his heart, the light in the distance, and the burning of his fingertips.
“I like it out here, you know?” Your voice is low enough that it’s almost lost among the lapping of the sea on the shore. The clouds continue to move and the moonlight comes back, letting him look at you while you continue to look ahead.
He’s struck by the memory of you two when you two first properly met. The rain that poured, driving everyone inside while you remained outside, under the cover provided by the building. The way you watched him with a curious look on your face as he tried to make himself as presentable as possible for the start of contract negotiations. The quiet ‘good morning’ and the comment about the weather just before he remembered where he knew you from.
“You like the rain, too.”
As you turn to look at him, he wonders whether you remember it, too. Despite you working with Wynd Academy for the Tokyo Senbatsu reunion, despite you again working with Tetsu during his negotiations, despite all of the little almosts that could have swayed him… He wonders whether you remember the first words you two actually exchanged with one another. The smile that shapes your lips is softer, one that, again, reminds him of when you two stood out in the rain together.
“Yeah, I do.”
The ocean captures your attention again and he enjoys the silence that falls.
“Hey, Miyuki?”
“Hn?”
“What made you choose me?”
“What?”
“When we came back from Japan. What made you stick with me as your interpreter?”
There’s a draw, an invisible pull that makes him want to look at you. When he does, you’re already watching him, head tilted, unsure of what you’re asking. Or perhaps unsure of the answer he’ll give?
“You could have chosen anyone else from the firm, but you stuck with me. I saw you looking through the portfolios.”
“Why are you asking? It’s in the past, isn’t it?”
Your gaze shifts away from him, but he has a feeling you’re not watching the waves. “I dunno. It’s something I’ve always wondered about and… never mind. It’s fine.”
He hates when you do that. “And?”
The breeze mixes with the waves as it passes, almost taking your reluctant sigh with it. “I thought I pissed you off with how demanding I was at first. I remember you looked so annoyed and I wanted to crawl into a hole.”
He snickers, trying to apply what you’ve just told him to the woman he met in Japan two years before. From the start, you needed him to be open and to communicate in a way that he couldn’t even muster in his previous relationship. More than once you reminded him of Mei and Kuramochi with how easily you caught onto his lies, even those by omission. Imagining you intimidated by him is laughable.
“Is that funny?”
“Yeah, a little.” He laughs properly when you roll your eyes and frown. “You hardly knew me but you had no problem putting me in my place. It’s funny to think that you wanted to crawl into a hole because of it.”
“Sure, sure. So? If my first impression didn’t ruin you, what made you want to keep me around?”
“That wasn’t my first impression of you.”
“Wasn’t it?” There’s this nervous edge to your voice, accompanied by the tell-tale playing with your nails.
“Did you forget? You were one of the interpreters for the Tokyo Senbatsu. You worked with the kids more, but I remember seeing you around.” You certainly got along with Mei back then. “And then you were who the Giants sent to interpret for Tetsu during his negotiations.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t there for that.”
“I was there at the airport, and Tetsu told us that he wanted to hire you then, too. Why didn’t you take him up?”
Blowing air, you take to chewing the inside of your cheek and turning your face away from him.
“It wasn’t the right timing. I wasn’t going to be able to interpret for him and finish my program if he was going to San Francisco.”
“So if he went to the Dodgers like I did, would you have accepted?”
“No.” You still don’t face him, but your admission sparks a wave of fluttering in him, only heightened by the cold water at his feet.
“What made you choose me, then?”
At this, you turn, challenging him with a smirk. “You didn’t answer my question.”
His smile grows, knowing full well that you’re avoiding answering his question. “You made it very easy for me to trust you.”
Whatever you thought you were going to hear, it’s clear that wasn’t it. That challenge in your eyes fades, your smile losing its edge as it’s colored by disbelief.
“Why do you ask?”
He watches as you take that disbelief and pocket it away with something more tender, something you’re not ready to be seen just yet. When you meet his eyes again, it’s with the ghost of a smile playing at your lips. “I’ve always been curious.”
“Is that all?”
You pause, eyes flickering across his face before settling on his again. “Yep.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“At least you know when I’m not being honest,” you try, starting to step away from him with a borderline mischievous grin. “Very hard for me to lie to you.”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering him, you turn forward, allowing a silence to build between you both until he can feel the nervous energy that buzzes around you. Unable to stand it, he closes that distance again, nudging your shoulder as he settles. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yeah, your turn. You turned down Tetsu, so what made you say yes to me?” Was it because the Dodgers are closer or because they’re the team you and your dad have followed or was it timing or…?
“I don’t know. Maybe because you would be close and the timing was right or—”
“You already admitted that proximity wouldn’t have made you say yes to Tetsu. Was it because it was me?”
“Are you kidding? If I knew it was you, I probably would’ve quit working with the league and gotten a position with the university.” Your laugh is a little self-depreciating and he doesn’t know why. “All I know is that we got the call that the Dodgers needed a Japanese interpreter and I jumped at the opportunity because it was something else to put on my portfolio. I didn’t learn they were courting you until I was already on the plane.”
“You seemed just fine when you greeted me that morning.”
“Aha, yeah. I was so nervous, it kinda just slipped out.”
“Were you really that nervous? I honestly never would have guessed.”
“Good to know. I never expected—” Catching yourself, you look at him, clearly hoping he didn’t hear that. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you can’t just start that and then pretend like you didn’t say anything.”
“I can and I will.”
“No, for real, you can’t pretend like I didn’t hear that. Finish your thought.”
He watches as you try to edge yourself away, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from getting more than two feet away.
“Ooh, no you don’t.”
Squirming in his hold does nothing but make him pull you closer, trapping you against his chest. When he tries to get you to look at him, you hide your face in your palms again, failing this time because you’re still holding your shoes. The more you squirm, the closer he pulls you to him until you’re effectively trapped back to chest, laughing to yourself as he brings his lips level to your ear.
“What didn’t you expect?”
You shiver and he hears a muffled, “You aren’t making this any easier.”
“Why would I do that when you’re trying to hide something from me?”
“I’m not trying to hide anything.”
“Oh, yeah? Then you can tell me, right?”
“Kazuya, please—”
“Kazuya?” You freeze in his arms and his heart stutters in his chest—full-on stalling out, struggling to make it to the next gear, demanding more power to keep going. He hears the apology tumble out of your mouth in a rush, so he tells you, “I like it when you call me that.”
You stiffen for a moment before leaning into him, letting his words sink in, still feeling his warm breath against the exposed skin of your neck. “You— you are very good at making me do stupid things.”
“You mean to say that I bring out an entirely different level of stupid?”
“Shut up.” You push against his arms with no real effort to get away, but he doesn’t want to cross a boundary, so he loosens his grip. Despite the room to move, you lean into him more, staying where you are.
Is this a stupid thing?
“So? What’s this thing you never expected?”
Shuffling where you stand, he expects you to step away. Opening his arms fully, you surprise him, turning around and pressing your forehead against him.
“I never expected your stupid sense of humor or your stupid laugh or your stupid pretty face or that you would be the exact combination of stupid that would make me stupid.” Your voice is soft, lost somewhere between the night and the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you nonetheless.
“I’d be offended right now if you didn’t just say you find me pretty.” He’d be offended right now if you didn’t just suggest what he thinks you’re suggesting.
“You are pretty. It makes me mad.”
“Me being pretty makes you mad?”
“Very mad.” You move to look at him and he’s expecting a pout, not the serious look in your eyes. Your brows furrow and—yup, there it is—your lips turn into a pout as you continue staring before your gaze shifts to his lips. He thinks it’s just gonna be a moment, just a glance, but it’s not.
Shit.
Your lips part, just a little bit, just enough that he’s slowly inching forward and so are you. Just enough so he feels the shaky little exhale before you close the distance, pressing your lips to his.
You’re—soft. Really soft. Soft in the way you’re pressing against him. Soft in the way you feel when his arms close around you, holding you to him. Soft in the way you move your arms so they’re draped over his shoulders, so your shoes tap against his back, so your fingers brush against the hairs at the nape of his neck. Soft in the way your lips move against his, making him dizzy, making him feel, as you so eloquently put it, stupid.
Then there’s that sound you make, something else that’s soft, something between a whimper and a whine before you flick your tongue against his bottom lip.
Shit.
Another sound when he tries to hold you closer, when his palms spread out across your back, when all he can think and feel and breathe is you. Your fingers tangle in his hair before pulling, giving you a whine in turn and he feels you smile before pulling away for air.
Resting his forehead against yours, his senses slowly come back to him, though they’re still primarily focused on you. The feel of the bunching of the fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips, the racing of his heart in his chest, the cool of the water against his feet. The smell of the salty ocean air and that odd combination of sunscreen and your body wash. The lingering taste of you against his lips, and the little craving to taste more. The sounds of the waves, seemingly in the distance when compared to the beating of his heart and your shaky breathing. The sight of you, of your tongue smoothing over your bottom lip before they close, of your eyelashes touching your cheeks in the lighting provided by the waxing moon, of the slow opening of your eyes and the emotions that follow.
He’s never been good at reading people, especially not their emotional state, and he can’t trust himself to get it right at this moment. He wants there to be hope. He wants there to be acceptance. He wants to see the reciprocated feeling of “fucking finally” because that’s what he’s feeling. He wants it so bad that he can’t trust himself to read you right now.
But he does know he’s not imagining it the moment it hits you.
You release his hair before your hand slides back down his chest, coming to rest on your lips.
That surprise. That fear. That—
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry! I’m your interpreter! I shouldn’t—shit. That was so stupid. Please forgive me.”
All the warmth that built up in his chest leaves with the slow sinking of his heart. Of course. Everything comes back to your job.
“I’m not here as your client.”
Oof, that came off a lot harsher than he meant it to be. He hopes that your little flinch is because of the sudden breeze and not because of him. “You’re not my interpreter right now. You’re my friend.”
But that guilt written all over your face doesn’t go away. “I’m—”
“It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.”
You turn your gaze down before you turn your head away slightly. His grip around you loosens and this time you take the smallest step back. Dammit.
“Thank you. I—” You won’t even look at him. “Please forgive me.”
He sighs through his nose and he can feel the crease between his eyebrows as it forms. Turning back toward the shore, he slips his hand in yours.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” It definitely comes out as a bite, though (again) he doesn’t mean it as such. That doesn’t deter you from squeezing his fingers.
You trail behind him for only a minute more before quickening your pace and taking your space beside him. As you grow closer to the stairs heading back to the street, you turn, looking toward the solitary tables near the public bathroom.
“You don’t—”
“Let’s sit,” he interrupts, making it known he’s still with you, even if a large part of you seems intent on trying to move past something he’s wanted for the last year and a half now.
When you look at him, it’s with relief, with that stress and second-guessing slowly melting away. “Thank you.”
Maybe he should take the seat opposite you instead of right beside you, but he’s going to be selfish for as long as you’ll let him.
“I’m not ready to go back inside just yet.” You wait for a response and Kazuya decides it’s better if he doesn’t. “Do you mind… you don’t have to, but I’d like to sit out here for a while longer.”
Instead of offering a verbal response, he relaxes, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Thank you. I think… I think I might still be a little buzzed.”
Yeah, you really can’t lie to him.
“I don’t want to go in there when she’s still awake. I might say something stupid.”
That’s more like it, though he wonders if that “something stupid” will end with your friend giving you a lecture or giving one to him. Lecture or not, he’d prefer to keep your attention for himself.
You chatter on for another ten or so minutes, mostly compelled by your wish to move on from what happened, but eventually, you give in to the silence. It’s another couple of minutes before you rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you sit in silence with the soft promise to leave whenever you’re ready.
The sun slowly rises and he still finds himself on the beach with his hand still interlinked with yours, still hoping that this sea salt flavored kiss won't be the only one you two share.
Daiya no Ace Masterlist
#miyuki x reader#miyuki kazuya x reader#daiya no ace x reader#daiya no a x reader#ace of diamond x reader#✒.ix writes#daiya.✒#tti#✒.the catcher's accomplice#title inspired by a tyler knott gregson poem:#I kiss you and on your lips I taste the sea and the sea has always been home to me.#pls their relationship is so complex and there's so much that happens but it's not ready so I have nothing to share but this little bit#;-;#the boy
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aprilis thinking she isn't good enough for you
pairing: aprilis x gn!reader
tags: angst, mention of yufa & krysha
sometimes aprilis thinks she isn't good enough for you
when she sees you talking to yufa or krysha, she wonders if you would be better off dating them
those two are kind and gentle. they have no trouble expressing their emotions
she wonders if you would be happier with someone who isn't afraid to tell you that they love you
someone who buys you flowers. someone who's sensitive. someone who smiles more. someone who isn't such a cursed being. someone who isn't her...
aprilis always acts so cold, keeping a distance between her and the other monstrums
but deep down, she longs to be near you, yet fears that what she has to offer isn't good enough for you
aprilis wants you to be happy!
but if she can't make you happy, maybe you would be better off without her…
#aprilis x reader#aprilis#ys aprilis#ys ix aprilis#ys 9 aprilis#ys 9#ys ix monstrum nox#ys ix#ys x reader#ys ix x reader#ys#x reader#x you#x y/n#x gn reader#headcanons#angst#monstrum nox#yufa gamberg#krysha pendleton#white cat#raging bull
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