#to not hold himself back and take everything sky has to offer and make him beg again and again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

schoopsahoy · 1 year

Text

i’ve been dying to get you dizzy

steve harrington x roller-rink!reader {5.8k} part 2 to whip it you and steve have been casually dating for a few weeks now, he’s trying to take things slow but then you invite him to stay the night. 18+ mdni steve still being a simp for reader. fluff/smut. no use of y/n. reader uses she/her pronouns.

cw: fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex

The sight of Steve leaning against his car in the parking lot of your work is still one that makes you a little giddy. The pink and gold of the sky cascading down on him in a soft light, reflecting off his skin and dousing him in a warm glow was something straight out of a movie, the boy lit up all golden and auric as he waits for you to finish your shift.

You practically skip over to him, holding onto the strap of your bag to keep it in place on your shoulder as you cross the warm concrete. “Hey, Stevie.” You beam, instantly throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him to pull him in for a hug.

Steve would never admit to anyone that he lets you call him Stevie, let alone that he likes it. The way you say it always coated in affection that warms his chest. “Hey, you. How was work?” His words are muffled into your hair as he hugs you tighter, arms around your waist.

“Looks pretty bad, sweetheart.” He frowns at the injury, hand instinctively moving to yours to run his thumb over the back of it.

“S’pretty sore, but makes me look tough, don’t ya think?” You shrug, a little grin on the corners of your mouth.

“Super tough.” He nods in agreement, mirroring your smile. Every time you two were together, Steve felt like it was a little too good to be true. Everything you said or did seemed so effortless but it still had his mind running crazy, his heart even more so. Ever since you started hanging out, away from your work or the prying eyes of his friends, he had to remind himself that it was all real and you genuinely wanted to see him. He’d made a mental note to take things slow, to not fuck this up or scare you off, but it was harder than it sounded when you were next to him all sugared up smiles and gentle touches.

“I know I said we should go for food tonight but I’m totally spent.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, twisting your body from side to side a little and making the hem of your skirt shift higher against your thighs. “D’you want to just get a take out? You can stay over too, if you want? Save you driving back in the dark.”

Steve feels like he’s been shocked, his entire body buzzing with something - excitement, maybe? Or nerves, or a mix of the two most likely. “Sure we can, whatever you want.” He hopes you don’t notice how hard he had to focus to force the words out, praying they came out casual and not in a croak of nerves.

“You’re the best, Stevie.” You go on your tip-toes to kiss him again, tasting like bubblegum and cherries and sweets and all the other sugary things you should have in moderation, something Steve doesn’t think he can manage with you. “And you’ll stay?” Your eyes are big and bright as you look up at him through your lashes, a hopeful smile on your face that he knows he has no chance of turning down.

“As long as you want me to.” He gives your hand a light squeeze.

“Of course I do, silly, S’why I offered.” You squeeze his hand back before letting go to finally make your way to the passenger side, Steve making sure he gets there first so he can open the door for you. It’s the sweet little gestures that have your heart beating faster, simple acts of devotion that seem so insignificant from the outside but are really unspoken words of so much more.

It’s not a long drive to your place from the rink, only about 15 minutes if you get lucky with traffic. Steve’s hand finds its place on your thigh for most of the journey, his touch barely there but still comforting. You occasionally trace along his fingers, or around its outline on your skin, just mindless touches whilst you listen to him talk about his day. You think you could just sit and watch him forever, have him talk about anything and you’d listen.

You direct Steve around the streets of your hometown, he’d picked you up from work a few times now but you usually spent your time together in Hawkin’s. Your apartment is along Main Street, a little one bed that sits above a flower shop. It’s not much, but you’d been determined to move out and be independent whilst you’re in college so you’re content with the small space you got to call your own.

“There’s a little lot around the back of the shops you can park in, just turn down here.” You lean forward in your seat to point to the small side road, Steve nodding and following your instructions to lead you both into the car park.

Steve pulls into the spot you point out, the one closest to the metal steps that lead up to your door. Now he’s here, in front of your place where he’s agreed to spend the night, his breathing gets a little quicker. He tries to keep it quiet, not wanting you to notice that he’s slightly freaking out.

“C’mon handsome, the takeout won’t order itself.” You grin at him, your house keys dangling on your pointer finger along with a collection of keyrings that all jangle together and glisten in the evening sun. You open the passenger door and step out the car, standing at the bottom of the staircase whilst Steve locks his car.

Steve takes a moment whilst locking up to try and chill himself out, a few deep breaths and words of encouragement muttered to himself. Though he’s not too sure “get it together” counts as encouragement, either way he needs to hear it.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit messy, I would’ve tidied up more if I knew I’d have company.” You look back to Steve as you climb the stairs, the old metal clanking with each step til you reach the top.

“You don’t have to apologise.” Steve shakes his head at you, you could open the door to a bomb site and he wouldn’t mind as long as he’s with you.

You have to fiddle with the lock a little to get it open, the door’s pretty old and probably rusted so the key needs to be twisted and lifted at an angle to get it to work. You get it after a few tries though, and push the door open to let yourself and Steve in.

“Ta-da.” You sing as you hold the door open for Steve, letting him step into your living room before closing it behind him.

The flat is small, but you‘ve filled it with fresh flowers and cosy furnishings to brighten it up. Candles dotted around the room on whatever surface they can fit on, next to little ceramic and glass trinkets and photos of you and your friends. It feels like home, a space you’ve cultivated as your own that nobody can take away from you.

Steve thinks it’s perfect, really, because he can tell it’s yours. The flowers and vanilla candles mix together so the room smells sweet, and everything looks soft and inviting. Your college books strewn across the coffee table, plush blankets hung over the arm of the couch, it was all another insight into your world that he was so desperate to be a part of.

“I can’t believe you think this is messy.” He chuckles, looking around the room again to take in all the little details.

“Wait til you see my bedroom, then you’ll change your tune.” You shrug your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor near the door, toeing your shoes off so you’re just left with your knee high socks on your feet.

Steve can’t even bring himself to think about seeing your bedroom, that idea pushed so far back into the corner of his mind so he can remain functional. “I bet it’s fine, you’re just dramatic.” He teases, trying to play off the fact he’s still in awe about being in your home.

“That’s true, I am.” You smile at him, no offense taken from his words because you can see the soft smile on his lips and the doting tone that always seems to be there when he speaks. “So, what d’you want? Pizza? Or there’s a Chinese not far that’s pretty good?” You pad across the room to the kitchen, the open plan layout meaning you can still see Steve as you root through one of the cupboards for menus. You hold them up when you find them, waving them in the air before you move back and hand them to him.

“You don’t wanna pick? You’re the one who’s been working all day.” He strokes the back of your hair gently with his free hand, you instantly leaning back into his touch.

You shake your head at his offer. “You’re the guest, you pick.”

Steve sighs a little, all sweetness at your offer. “Pizza sounds good. You happy with that?”

“Mhm, pick what you want and I’ll call ‘em.” You tap your nails against the menu in his hand, the vibrations running up his arm and making his hairs stand up.

It takes you both a little while to settle on an order, going back and forth about what you both want and finding a middle ground. You keep trying to tell Steve to choose what he wants and you’ll work around that, but Steve was far more concerned about you getting what you wanted. It was a lot of talking in circles til you both eventually settled.

Steve insists on paying when it arrives, too, despite your best efforts to at least go halves.

“Just take the money, Steve.” You hold the dollars out to him, trying to tuck them into his pocket when he shakes his head at you.

“Stop, stop.” Steve laughs, trying to dodge your hands whilst holding onto the pizza box. “If this falls we’ll have to do that all over again.”

You furrow your brow a little, pouting up at the boy. “Fine, but I’m getting it next time.” You flop yourself down on the couch with a dramatic sigh, shuffling your college textbooks to one side on the coffee table so the pizza box can fit. “Oh, wait, d’you want plates?” You go to stand up again but Steve shakes his head at you.

“I’ll get ‘em, where are they?” He sets the food down and walks into the kitchen.

“Cupboard above the sink.” You call through, watching him pull a couple of plates out and bring them back to you. “You’d make a great housewife.” You grin, taking one of them off him.

“I know, thinking of changing careers.” Steve sits himself down next to you, his leg pressed against yours so you can feel the rough denim on your skin.

“You’d look great in a frilly apron.” You lean forward to open the box, pulling out a slice of pizza for yourself and putting it on your plate.

“Yeah, you think?” Steve grins at you and helps himself to a slice.

“Mhm, real handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek before taking a bite of your food. “And I could be the breadwinner.”

“Oh I’m gonna be your housewife?”

“Obviously, I get first dibs.”

Steve smiles at you, all fondness and it makes your chest feel a little tight with how much you like it. “Yeah, you do.”

You end up watching a movie after your food, letting Steve root through the small pile of tapes that sit next to your tv set. They’re pretty old, most picked up in flea markets or taken from your family home. Most of them are horror films which makes Steve laugh, you feel like the personification of sunshine but your taste in movies is the complete opposite of that.

“You got anything lighthearted?” He turns his head to look at you from where he’s sat on the floor, you still sat on your couch with a blanket thrown over your lap.

“I’ve got Grease.”

“So the options are scary movies or Grease?”

“Withhold your judgment, Harrington.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest in fake upset.

“Oh I’m sorry, don’t surname me.” He pouts back at you, which makes you giggle and ruins your facade.

“Pick a film.” You wiggle your finger at the pile of tapes, Steve turning back to them again and eventually settling on Salem’s Lot.

“You gotta hit the player a little, to get it to work.” You instruct Steve, who taps the player a few times before it springs to life and starts whirring.

He settles back down next to you, and you instantly lean your head on his shoulder. He can smell your fruity shampoo as soon as you lay it there, and leans his own head against yours. It’s comfortable, like your head was supposed to fit there in the crook of his neck.

He tries his best to focus on the screen, but whenever you’re close to him it’s like all his senses are in overdrive and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. He hopes you can’t feel it, a dead giveaway to how you make him feel, how much he really likes you.

It only gets worse when you start placing gentle kisses against his neck, your hand laced in his and he’s so aware of every minute movement you make. Every small inhale, the fan of your eyelashes as you blink. He thinks he might be losing it a little.

You kiss up his neck and up to his cheek, eventually nudging your nose against it so he turns his face to you. You both look at each other for a moment, eyes studying the others face and lips until he eventually leans in to kiss you.

It’s a little reserved, gentle and careful like there’s still some boundary yet to be crossed. Steve’s hand cups your face, fingers lacing into your hair as he holds you close to him.

You press against him a little harder, lips parting slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a sweet sigh from the feeling. Your arms are around his shoulders so your fingers can run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Steve can feel himself getting lost in it all, how soft you are and how sweet you taste, and when you shuffle so you’re sitting in his lap he’s certain he’s absolutely gone. His hands move to your waist, but he barely grips you, his touch soft and hovering over your body.

You pull away a little, keeping your face close to Steve’s so your lips still brush together when you speak. “Y’know you can touch me, Stevie? I’m not gonna break.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, all sweet and a little teasing.

Steve smiles at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know, I just, uh,” he lets out a small sigh, nose nudging against your own, “you make me kinda nervous.”

You sit back a little now, still close and your fingers still combing through his hair. “What, why?” Your brows furrow slightly as you look at him with gentle concern. “Y’know I really like you, right?”

“I know, but you’re so pretty and smart and like, so out of my league.” He chuckles to try and cover the fact he’s actually wearing his heart on his sleeve, the confession making him feel like he could pass out or combust at any second.

You just shake your head at him, lips curled up into a smile that makes him want to melt. “What’ve I gotta do to prove it to you? Put it on a big sign?” You place soft kisses up and along his throat, breaking them up with your words. “Or I could make a t-shirt?” You move your kisses up to his face so you can look at him again, eyes bright with tenderness for the boy in front of you.

“The t-shirt sounds good.” Steve can feel his skin heat up wherever you place your kisses, your sweet words and soft touches driving him a little crazy.

You giggle, moving one hand to cup his jaw. “Yeah? I can do that.” You press your lips against his, softly and just for a second. “I wanna be your girl, Steve Harrington. You gonna let me?”

Steve’s not sure he’ll ever get used to your confidence, not that he minds it. But he can’t deny it makes his heart flip whenever you say stuff like this, so assured in what you want, especially when it’s him. “Yeah, yeah, I am.” He exhales, finally bringing his lips back to yours.

He kisses you with more confidence now, like whatever line you’ve been toeing has been crossed and he’s finally letting himself relax into you. His hands hold your waist properly, pulling your body closer to his so you can feel his chest move with each breath.

You tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss, Steve’s tongue licking into your mouth as he squeezes your side and it’s enough for you to sigh out a small moan. The sound only makes Steve kiss you harder, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and making your brain go sort of fuzzy.

When his lips make their way along your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck and onto that sensitive spot near your collarbone your breath hitches in your throat. You think Steve must feel it stuck there, because it’s almost like you can feel him smirk against your skin as he nips at the same spot before soothing over it with his tongue.

His hands roam to your thighs, skirt pulled up a little too high to be decent from you straddling him and you don’t even mind the pain that comes from when his hand passes over your bruise. “Jesus, Steve.” You almost whine, his lips still attached to that same spot and leaving a pretty purple mark there.

Steve groans against your skin when you say his name, the way you say it has his mind moving a hundred miles a minute. “Y’so pretty, y’know that?” His words are a bit muffled against your skin, though he briefly pulls away so he can look you in the eyes. “So perfect, drives me crazy.”

When one of his hands slips towards the inside of your thighs you have to blink a few times to try and keep yourself calm, the sensation so intense even with his gentle touch. It makes you rock your hips towards him, you don’t even mean to do it but the feeling of his denim dragging along your bare skin only sends you more into a haze. Your fingers press into his shoulders, little half moon indents pressing into the fabric of his shirt where you’re trying to ground yourself.

It feels like an eternity of his hands wandering, fingers ghosting closer to your core only to move away again before Steve finally asks if he can touch you, big brown eyes blinking down at you as you nod your head, forcing out a small “yes”, your voice a little raspy from trying to control your breathing.

Steve still feels like this might all be a dream, a fantasy taking place solely in his head, when he finally runs fingers along the hemline of your panties. You’re already warm, your soft skin radiating heat onto him and driving him wild. He moves his hand away for a second, just so he can shift your bodies around and lay you back on the couch. One hand next to your head, propping himself over you so he can see your face, and the other back to teasing you.

You know you’re already wet, can feel it there between your thighs as Steve trails a finger up and down over your panties eventually relenting and pulling them to the side. You don’t think the room is cold, but the air hitting your exposed cunt is enough to make you shiver a little.

He slides two of his fingers down into your slick, the light pressure on your already sensitive clit enough to make your body jolt and a small gasp falls from your lips.

“God, y’so wet already baby.” He muses, a smile curled onto the corners of his lips as he watches your face scrunch a little with each of his movements. His fingers rub circles around your clit, slow steady movements that have your eyes fluttering closed.

“Feels so good, Stevie.” Your voice is even sweeter than usual, all breathy and a little out of it and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it.

All your nerves feel like they’re on fire, every inch of your body charged with some sort of electricity as Steve keeps touching you. When he finally slips one finger inside of you, his thumb still pressing onto your clit, you’re pretty sure you can see stars. He’s gentle with you, moving in and out of you slowly and always keeping an eye on your face to make sure you’re alright, only adding a second finger once he can feel you’re ready.

His fingers curl up to hit that sweet spot inside of you, the slow drag of them in and out mixed with the lazy movements against your cliensending your head dizzy. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails dragging along the top of his back as your heartbeat quickens and the coil inside your stomach tightens.

“Steve.” You whine, incapable of getting any other words out, your brain turned to mush from his touch.

“Y’close?” He breathes, blown pupils staring down into your own with such intensity and desire that it only pushes you closer to the edge.

“Mhm.” You hum, all you can manage as he speeds up his movements. His fingers are pumping into you a little faster now, still careful and considerate and always hitting the right spot and you can feel your body temperature rising.

“Can feel it, feels so good.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, then onto your cheek. “Y’gonna let go for me? Wanna feel you come so bad, sweetheart.” He knows he’s running his mouth, mind all fogged up from how good you feel and how much he wants you that he can’t help but let the words tumble out.

It doesn’t take much more for that coil in your stomach to snap, Steve’s words coaxing you through your high as you squeeze your eyes shut and moan out his name. Your nails dig harder into his shoulders, the blinding white of your orgasm leaving you out of it and the feel of him underneath your fingers the only thing helping to ground you.

You whine when Steve finally slides his fingers out of you, the sudden emptiness pulling the sound from your mouth. You bring your head up from where it was lay on the couch, lips meeting his where he’s still hovering over you.

“You alright?” Steve presses his forehead against yours, the breath of his words fanning against your lips.

“Yeah, Stevie.” You give him a sweet smile, mascara a little smudged under your eyes and still looking a little out of it. “C’mon.” You press a hand to his chest and give him a gentle push, just enough so you can sit yourself up. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Hearing the words come from your mouth makes Steve’s brain short circuit a little bit, just following your lead as you shuffle up and off the couch and offer him a hand to lead him to your bedroom. You turn to face him as you walk backwards into the room, knocking the light on with your other hand and coating the room in a buttery light. Your lips are little puffy from where he’d kissed, your hair mussed from the couch, and Steve thinks you’re the most perfect girl he’s ever seen.

Then you’re back on each other again, like some invisible rope is tied around you both and is being pulled tighter til you collide. The kiss is a little messy, too eager to touch each other that it’s all tongue and teeth as your hands both try to pry the others shirt off without having to pull away for too long.

Your clothes are strewn across the room, cascaded to the floor carelessly as your hands can finally roam skin on skin. Your palms on Steve’s chest guide him towards your bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress.

He sits on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across your now bare waist and you stood between his legs, gazing down at him with big eyes full of something sticky sweet and sultry. He brings his mouth to your tits, kissing the skin and sucking softly to draw out more sweet sounds from you.

“S’my turn. To make you feel good.” You have to force the words out, your breath hitching in your chest each time Steve nibbles on your skin. Your hand reaches down to run over Steve’s crotch. You can feel how much he’s already straining against the denim jeans as you go to fiddle with the button, movements slow and teasing and already enough to make him groan against your soft skin.

“Baby.” Steve grips you a little tighter, pads of his fingers pressing into you. You just look at him, a picture of innocence as you continue your deliberate movements, zipper pulled down at an agonizing pace. “Babybabybaby.” He genuinely thinks his heart might stop with how hard it’s pounding against his ribs.

When you finally un-do the zipper and start palming at his cock through his boxers, Steve tips his head back with a low moan, the pleasure already overwhelming. You use your other hand to caress his cheek, your touch gentle and comforting to counteract how much you’re driving him absolutely crazy.

You dip your hand into his boxers, sufficient teasing done, and finally move his boxers down enough so you can pull his cock out. You try not to react when you realize just how big he is, though a small sound escapes your mouth as you start to pump your hand around the base of his shaft.

When you crouch down in the space between Steve’s legs and run your tongue up his shaft, tip already leaking from the way your hands pumping him, he thinks he might be done for. You look up at him through your lashes, doe eyed and mouth just barely touching him, placing gentle kisses on his member as one of his hands entangles itself in your hair.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, your eyes closing over as you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, hand continuing its motions at the base that you can’t quite fit.

You can feel the tip of him pressing against the back of your throat, and you have to focus on your breathing to try and stop yourself choking up around him. His fingers tighten their hold on your hair as you speed up your movements, tugging a little each time you hear him sigh or moan.

“I-I’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, trying to guide your head up so he can look at you properly. You move your mouth off him, lips slick with saliva and eyes blown as you look at him. “I wanna fuck you, don’t wanna cum yet.” His words are still breathy even now you’ve stopped touching him, his mind still catching up to everything that’s happening.

“Yeah?” You ask, voice a little teasing which only makes Steve want you more. You stand up so you can wiggle out of your skirt, letting it fall to the ground below you and leaving you only in your panties. Your fingers tug at the waistband of his jeans, a silent instruction for him to follow suit. He shuffles in his spot, tugging the trousers down his legs and onto the floor. “Sit back.” You nudge your head towards the headboard of your bed, and Steve doesn’t even try to argue as he moves himself to lean against your pillows.

You kneel over him, hands pulling at his boxers as you help to guide them off before doing the same with your panties. You straddle him again, cock pushing against your clit as you kiss him and rock your hips.

Your lips move down his neck, still a little wet and puffed up. Steve’s hands are resting on your thighs, head tilted to the side so you can continue your trail of kisses down towards his collarbone. “I, uh, don’t have a condom.” Steve murmurs, using probably the last bit of sanity he has to force the words out.

“I’m on the pill.” Your words are pressed into his skin, and you can feel him groan underneath you as you speak. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m okay with it.”

Steve helps you line yourself up on top of him, a small hiss coming through your teeth as you lower down onto him and feel the stretch. You have to move slowly, each time you press yourself down a little further and feel him fill you up a little more. It takes you a couple minutes til you’re sat on him fully, breathing already a little heavy as you rest your head on his shoulder.

Steve presses kisses onto your forehead, hands steady on your hips as you sit for a moment. He can feel how tight you are around him, cock twitching inside you just from the thought of you moving. “You okay?” His voice is soothing, gentle and full of care as his thumb strokes circles into your skin.

“Yeah, m’okay.” Your voice is quiet, but you eventually start to rock your hips against him once you’ve adjusted to his size. You can feel his tip nudging that soft squidgy spot with each movement and it has you moaning into his neck as your forehead stays steady in the crook of his neck.

You get a little more confident with it, properly lifting yourself up now so you can feel the full length of his shaft moving in and out of you. You lift your head up so you can look at Steve, mouth hung open a little from being so blissed out.

“Feel s’good, so full.” Steve’s hands help guide you as you bounce on top of him, your clit bumping against the base of his shaft each time brings you down again and it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“God. Wanted this so bad. Want you so bad. Want you to be my girl.” He starts pistoning his hips up into you now, following your rhythm and hitting even deeper inside you which has you whining.

“I am your girl, Stevie.” You bite your lip as Steve thrusts up into you, barely muffling the sound of your moans as you keen at his thrusts.

“Oh fuck.” He tips his head back, eyes closing as his thrusts start getting a little sloppy. You can tell he’s close, trying your best to hold onto the pace he’s set to bring him to the edge.

“Y’gonna cum for me, baby?” You muse, voice sugar coated despite the words and it has Steve’s head spinning. He brings a hand down between you, fingers finding your clit so he can rub circles in it as you both near the edge.

It’s a little messy, still learning each other's bodies and the way you move with each touch, but you can feel yourself tiptoeing along that ledge again. Steve must feel it too, the way you clench impossibly tighter around him, because he starts picking up the pace with his thrusts again.

It doesn’t take long for you to both tumble over the edge, Steve breathing out your name over and over as he brings his forehead to yours and helps you steady yourself as you come down from your high. You’re not quite ready to move yet, still too sensitive to deal with the feeling of him pulling out.

He’s peppering sweet kisses along your cheek through his deep breathing, both your chests rising and falling as you try to bring yourselves back to reality. When he finally pulls out you whine a little, the loss of him inside you has you feeling empty and the over stimulation is close to electric.

Steve lifts you off him, placing you gently on the bed so he can go to the bathroom to get something to clean the pair of you up with. He’s so soft with you, all affectionate and doting like you’re the most precious thing in the world, he thinks you might be.

“Steve?” You sit yourself up on the bed as he pulls his boxers on, your cheeks flushed pink and lip pulled between your bottom teeth.

“Yeah?”

“This mean I’m actually your girl now?” You grin at him, and you’re asking a question you already know the answer to really. But you want to hear him say it, purely for selfish reasons.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re my girl.” He leans over and kisses your forehead, and the way you look up at him has him thinking that you might always send his head a little dizzy. But he definitely doesn’t mind.

thank u so much for reading ! plz reblog if u enjoyed and message me if u have any requests/wanna gush over steve lol <333

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

2K notes · View notes

okwonyo · 4 months

Text

memories of heart.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ( 형들 ) + femreader （？） fluff established relationship warning not-proofread skinship kissing & 500 —⠀ bookshelf

notes. i'm so sleepy T^T

heeseung

arcade date: has always dreamed about going to this kind of dates; especially as the hopeless romantic as he is and how much he loves video games, the thought of playing a bunch of these with the one he loves makes him become red from cheerfulness. proud smile on his face, he is the type to win a plushie a prize for a game and offer it to you— “thank you for being here with me”

photobooth date: is beyond annoying about which poses you should do, claiming he wants the set of pictures to be perfect. ‘sit like that’s and ‘put your hand over here, baby’s before each flash, he makes you sit on his laps and hold you by the waist firmly. giving up on posing perfectly, he always and up giggling when you look at him for a slip second— hand slipping from the top of your thigh to right before the knee, you can see his cheeks growing red in the photography.

jongseong

stargazing date: prepares a whole picnic for the night, with your favorite flowers and dishes— made sure to put on the most romantic songs he has ever heard, with a couple of scented candles as-well.. whispers; “i think i love you too much, because..” he squeezes your hand, “in a sky full of stars, i will only ever see you” while you both watch the stars shining in the sky, he only watches them through your shiny eyes.

baking date: lets you tie the bow of his soft pink floral apron you bought for him for your six months anniversary. dots on you during the whole time, hand placed on your lower back as you put on glazing on the cute cake just made— leaning in as you does too, he might fall into it if he keeps on going. his favorite part is when you feed him some red and sugary strawberries.

jaeyun

lantern festival date: he takes you there after you told him you always wanted to go to one, mainly inspired by reponzel but also because you find the concept beautiful— and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. he holds the lantern as you put the candle in it, thinking you look so cute with that focused expression of yours. finds himself enjoying the rise of all the lanterns in the sky.

beach date: initially wanted to take a walk; claiming that the summer's warmth and clear sky was too beautiful to be missed. hand in hand, bumping shoulders when one of you says something funny, walking away from each other and coming back when the distance threatens to make your hands let go of each other. you end up both in the water at some point, clothes still on but barely even caring— he helps you float on your back, tries to kiss you under the salty water..

sunghoon

biking date: has spent weeks trying to find the perfect place to go biking together and made sure to do it when the weather starts being nice again. at some point, he starts biking close to you and with one single hand; trying to reach you with a stupid smile on his face, he loves cliche, you reach his hand and your fingers touch.. you hold hands for ten minutes before he almost falls.

auquarium date: running around the almost empty walls of the aquarium as you booked for the night session, looking at the fish wide headed as you swear it looks exactly like your boyfriend, holding hands while the blue hue kisses your skin tenderly— everything that makes an aquarium date one and are one your ‘date to do’ list, are the things you and him would do instinctively.

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches

209 notes · View notes

bipp-bopp-time-to-stop · 3 months

Text

Icarus

Okay, so my yandere kick may be lasting a little longer than expected. Though, I do have an idea for a series (?) now. It'll be a story focusing on each of the boys and letting them have their time to shine in their, ahem, devotion. Although he's not my fav boy of the bunch (still love him though), Sky's story came to me first and it came in swingin'. It's a little shorter than my previous posts but I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Yandere themes, blood, gore, descriptions of torture, a lot of talk about harm by fire, Sky goes off the deep end

The chunk of wood in his hands was unassuming. It was light, partly sanded, and cut from a stray piece of driftwood. Unlike logs or planks used in building houses or inns, this wood was soft. So when his knife began to scratch and peel at it, the wood offered no resistance. With nimble and trained fingers, Sky carved away at the wood. His motions were fluid and he showed no fear of nicking himself on the sharp blade of his carving knife. Even as the wood started to form into a recognizable shape, Sky did not pause. Every cut was nearly rhythmic- musical if the wood could sing.

Eventually, Sky sets down his blade and picks up a finer tool. He starts carving out a set of small eyes and then a little, pointed beak. He begins to sharpen the outlines of plumage on the carving’s chest and adds tiny details to its folded wings. The petite talons come next and are shortly followed by refining the tail feathers. Finally, Sky pauses to wipe off the carving and looks at the little bird now resting in his palm. It was a plump little finch that looked absolutely adorable.

The smile on Sky’s face when he stares at his creation is large and blissful. Gently, he brings it up to his lips and kisses the wooden figure. The kiss lasts for a few seconds before Sky pulls his newest creation away.

“My little songbird…” Sky sighs with content. He continues to give the figure doe eyes full of nothing but admiration and love as if the chunk of wood hung the very sun up in the sky. His vision is suddenly blocked as hands cover his eyes. The hands are gentle and soft as not to accidentally hurt the Skyloftian. Even before they speak, Sky knows exactly who this is.

“Guess who~”

“Hmm… did you get a new callous on your hands, Time? I though we told you to take better care of your hands?” Sky jests.

“Wha- hey! There’s no way my hands are anything like that of the Old Man’s!” You gawk as you pull away from Sky. He laughs, light and carefree as the breeze. Before you can back away any further, he grabs you and pulls you down to the ground with him. His smile is blinding as he stares at your pouting face. He resists the urge to pinch or pull at your puffed up cheeks even if he finds your mock annoyance to be irresistible.

“Ah, lighten up! Here, look at what I made!” Sky giggles as he shows you the little finch carving in his hand. The sour look is immediately replaced by something gentle and sweet that has Sky practically puffing up his chest. Like it was made of glass, you take the carving from Sky and observe his craftsmanship. You run your fingers across every notch and groove, engrossed with every detail.

“It’s so cute, Sky! It’s a finch, right?” You ask as you continue to examine the bird.

“Yup! Aaaaaaannnnndddd… it’s yours. I already have enough wooden carvings as is and I know how much you love anything related to animals,” Sky announces. He feels his heart melt as your smile widens even further. You hold it close to your chest and Sky does everything he can to not think about how his lips had just touched the carving. How the wood he had kissed was now flush against your bare skin.

“If you keep making little figurines for me, the rest of the boys will think you have a favorite among us,” You warn with a light hearted tone.

“But what if you are my favorite person? I’ve no problem with letting anyone know that, you know. If they want to be jealous, let them. I’ve no time to deal with their pettiness,” Sky counters. You roll your eyes at him, not taking the comment seriously. You lean forward and place a quick kiss to Sky’s cheek. He suddenly finds himself incapable of breathing as his cheek burns from the action.

“Anyway, Wild wanted me to stop by and tell you that lunch is almost ready. Venison and cabbage stew,” You state before walking away. Sky doesn’t respond or even react to let you know that he heard you. After a few more moments, Sky’s body finally draws breath and he’s left panting against the tree he had been sitting against. His eyes are barely open and are dilated to the fullest degree possible. His grin was loopy and loose like he was buzzed out on the best drug in all the realms. And he was.

And it was called obsession love.

The love he felt was like the sun itself. It was blinding as he registered nothing but you whenever you were around. It was full of life as everything seemed a little more lively when you were near it. It was immense as his senses were overwhelmed by you, you, you.

And by the stars above did it burn.

Any touch from you felt like it would scald his skin in the best way possible. He waited patiently for the day to come that your touch would finally leave a mark. That his body would become a tapestry for you to torch with your gentle hands and sweet words. When his patience ran thin on certain days, he considered asking the Smithy for a hot rod of iron so you could finally brand him. Brand him as yours and yours alone.

But you would never do that- not even if Sky pleaded with you to do so. Even though he and everyone else were broken and battered souls, victims of a vicious cycle he started, you handled them like they were priceless. You would hold them during rough nights as their demons clawed at their minds. You’d do your best to rock them in your grip like they were no more than babes out of the crib. Your whispered praises and hummed lullabies were sweet and addictive like honey straight from the pot. You had to know the affect you had on him and the others.

And if you didn’t, Sky would have to remedy that immediately.

He would sing songs of your kindness until his lips went dry and his throat bled and cracked. He would write pages of poetry in your name until his hands gave out and even then he wouldn’t stop. He would slay monsters and men alike and serve you only the best pieces of them on a silver platter as tribute. He’d parade through the streets of towns and settlements with nothing but word of you on his tongue so others may know of true divinity and not the falsehoods that were practiced in their churches. He’d get down to the very ground like a worm, a maggot, a bug and kiss the soles of your feet with more reverence than Hylia herself has ever seen. Whatever it took, he would do.

“Oi, Airhead. You done spacing out?” Legend jabs as he pokes Sky’s side. Sky blinks a little and realizes that he’s back at camp. When did he get here? For how long has he been zoning out? He hadn’t made a fool of himself in front of you, had he? Would you like that, if he did? Would you want that?

“I’m here,” Sky coughs as he goes back to eating the soup served to him by Wild. He looks around the camp for you and finds that you’re sitting in between Wind and Hyrule. From what he can hear, you’re telling them a story about something that once happened to you. Just a random and wacky tale about an event in your life, but Wind is absolutely enraptured by it and Sky believes Hyrule’s eyes are a blink away from turning into hearts. He smiles at the sight, happy that his brothers know to look at you with nothing less than pure devotion and admiration at your every word and action.

He didn’t bother to butt in, though. He was perfectly content with observing your brilliance from where he was sitting. Your exaggerated movements, your lopsided grin, your inability to stop yourself from chuckling before any punchlines were delivered- it was all so divine. Even with the noon sun shining down on the group, you shined brighter. It was as if you were the Goddess of Light, not Hylia. And you were, he knew you were. She was little more than a fraud compared to you. Her light was cold and unwelcoming. Your light was warm and comfortable and gentle and beautiful and addicting and so much more than Sky could ever hope to describe.

But there were also times Sky believed you were a divine being of fire.

While Sky wanted to keep you away from the battlefield at all times, he couldn’t deny the presence you had on the field. You were quick to find out you had a stronger arm than you realized and wanted to put it to good use. Unlike the rest of them, you preferred the blunt and brutals ways of a mace over a blade any day. Slowly, you began to armor yourself in metal plate and padding. It wasn’t long until you looked nothing less than knightly when on the field. Sky had to praise Four for crafting the armor you wore as it did its job and did it well. Stars above, did you wear it well.

He would never not be in awe of you when you took to the field. You never bothered to hesitate when faced with monsters- not anymore, at least. You were fast, accurate, and deadly. Your silver armor would always be quick to be coated in red and black ichor. Despite the gore that would surround you or cling to you, you never stopped being in the spotlight. Even when the days were cloudy or dark, Sky could always see you shining and shimmering amidst all the chaos. It was only more proof that you really were the light in his life.

And when the battle was done? He’d stay back and let Hyrule heal you before letting someone shortly scold you for your “reckless” behavior. When the crowd would let up, Sky would swoop in and sing his poetic praises until you and he were red in the face. Even if your hands were still armored and bloody from battle, he would still seek out their touch- to feel that burn he was addicted to. There was something about them, fresh from the violence and gore, still taut and heavy from adrenaline, that made him feel like he’d be scorched into cinders. He loved it, adored it, yearned for it, needed it, and couldn’t survive without it.

He would do anything for it.

“Sky… what did you do?”

But he never stopped to realize how you could make him freeze.

It was supposed to be a fun night at the town. Maybe enjoy a few rounds of cards with his brothers or a mug or two of warm ale. For once, he wasn’t glued by your side as you had gone out window shopping for some new clothes with some extra rupees you had. You had taken Wind with you for company and so the adults could be, well, adults. Sky didn’t realize how badly he needed to unwind until he was laughing and joking with his brothers at the table. He was also happy that his bad luck wasn’t his bad luck anymore.

“For fuck’s sake…” Wild grumbled as he nearly threw his rupees at Sky. Sky only laughed at him as Time began to collect the cards and shuffle them.

“If you want, we can play a different game,” Wars offers as he slings an arm over Wild’s shoulders. “How about… Old Maid or Go Fish?”

“How about you choke on your own dick and die?” Wild growls as he takes a swig from his mug. Instead of being reprimanded for his crude words, everyone at the table simply laughs at tonight’s sore loser. To rub salt in the wound, Sky loudly kisses one of the rupees Wild had coughed up. Wild’s glowering stare made it clear that Sky’s days were on the thin line of being numbered.

The picture of an ideal night was shattered when the doors to the inn flew open. Your feet seemed to barely touch the ground as you sprinted up to your room. While Sky stumbled to get out of his seat, the rest of his brothers were quick to follow you. As he hurried to catch up, his heart twisted and shattered as he heard your muffled cries. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t get past Time and Twilight as they guarded your room. Sky could vaguely see Hyrule, Wars, and Wild comforting you. You were frazzled and hiding your face with your hands. His sun was hiding behind clouds of gray and he desperately wanted to know what he could do to make you shine again.

He listened as you blubbered about being harassed by a handful of hooligans on some street corner. How they had nitpicked everything about you from your looks to what you were wearing. At how they had followed you around and called you every name under the sun even as both you and Wind told them to stop. The nail in the coffin- their coffins- was when you said that they had attempted to hit you during their verbal assault.

Sky suddenly found himself thinking clearer than he had in awhile.

It wasn’t hard to track down the vermin wenches. They were loud and obnoxious as they stumbled around town. It was clear they were all intoxicated to hell and back. He himself wanted to laugh, but not because of their drunken state. No, it was laughable as to how easy this was about to be.

“Weeellll heeelllooo there, good looking. Out for some fun tonight?” One of the ladies asked with a loopy smile. The alcohol on her breath combined with her abundant use of perfume made her positively pungent. Sky hid the curl of his nose under pretending to wipe it before giving the trio his best smile.

“Well, it depends on your version of fun,” Sky chuckled as he took her hand. It was thin and weak. Breaking it wouldn’t take much force, but that could come later. Sky needed to corner these heretics before he could punish them.

“Oh, we can give you some great fun, mister~. Far greater than whatever that thing is that you were traveling with,” another chimes in as she wraps her arms around his torso. It takes every ounce of willpower Sky has not to tear them all in two right then and there as he knows she’s referring to you. That means that they had seen you and the group walk into town earlier. That means that they’ve likely been waiting to pounce on you for the past few hours now. Oh, their punishment was surely going to be rough for their wicked planning.

It didn’t take much to herd them into a quieter part of town. He nearly pushed them all into the first abandoned building he found. He lead them further and further into the building until he was sure than not even the loudest scream would be heard by any guard or citizen. Now, all that needed to be done was bring these sheep to the slaughter.

He was quick to take away their chances of escaping as he swung the Master Sword at their legs. He hacked at them until not a single one of the swine before him could stand. His sudden assault was quick to sober them up as they all started to shriek in a horrible symphony of noise. Sky thought of going for the throat to shut them up but that would kill them and he didn’t want to grant them that relief just yet.

His next target was their hands. The very hands that had attempted to harm you earlier. Had they been reaching for you in admiration, he may have been a little bit more gentle as he understood the desire well. But no- they wanted to hurt you. Perfect, divine you. Such blatant heresy made his mouth bitter.

Lastly, he carved into their flesh. His letters were shaky as the sinners thrashed around under his grip and that he wasn’t used to carving with his trusty sword. He wished that he had the foresight to bring his tools with him so that the words would look a little neater. Oh well, as long as their sins were visible, it was enough for him.

“May you plead for forgiveness on your judgment day. Pray to whatever gods and goddesses that you believe in for mercy as I am fresh out,” Sky growled at the bodies at his feet. With precision, Sky plunged the tip of his sword into each of their chests. For a moment, he was tempted to carve out their hearts and present them to you. Would you take his bloody offering? It was something all gods and goddesses were accustomed to, so surely you’d praise Sky for his devotion. You always did light up when he handed you his wood carvings, so perhaps you’d love these carvings all the same?

It was a shame, then, that Sky’s anger didn’t die down once your aggressors were dead. He continued to maim the bodies until they were but mush and sinew surrounding him. Their blood seemed even more putrid than that of the black blooded monsters he and his brothers would slay beside you. He couldn’t be seen near you in his current state- no, not at all. He was a mess and positively filthy. You had dealt with those sinners enough tonight so he wouldn’t dare make you even see the sight of their rotten blood.

If only luck continued to remain on his side, in that matter.

“Sky… What. Did. You. Do,” You repeat as you stare down the man before you. How had you known he was here? How did you sneak away from his brothers? What were you thinking of him, at the moment? Were you disgusted with him? He could understand that, this was easily the dirtiest he’s been all his life. Were you angry with him? That’s okay, if you were- you could take it out on him. And don’t worry about holding back, he could take it. But… were you scared of him? Oh please, please don’t be scared of him. He couldn’t fathom what he would do if you were to view or even think of him in terror. Don’t think of him as a monster, please don’t. He’s your knight! Your hero! Your ever loyal follower!

The emotion in your eyes was something Sky couldn’t place. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t sour, it wasn’t anything he had seen before. All he could call it was cold. Cold, cold, cold, cold. The blood in his veins slowed as it seemed to freeze into slush. The sweat and gore on his body was cold as ice and Sky found himself shivering. With a shaking hand, he sheathed the Master Sword and fell to the ground.

And he prayed.

“Please, (Name), please forgive me. Forgive me for my actions and transgressions. Know that what I did tonight was to defend your honor. Know that everything I do is for you and never against you. Please, have mercy on my soul and forgive me of my sins. Only through you can I ever be cleansed. Please… please… I’m sorry, so… so sorry…” Sky sobbed against the stone floor. His hands were clasped before him as he pleaded for your forgiveness. Would you be kind and forgive him? Wash away his sins with your sweet words? Or would you be rough with him? Deny him of salvation and leave him to languish in his mess? Make him plead and pray just like those he fell moments ago.

“Link, look at me.”

Sky snapped to attention as you used his name. You got on your knees before him and acted slowly as if he were a feral animal. You brought a handkerchief to his face as you wiped off all the grime and the tears.

“I’ve never seen you make such a mess before, Sky. This isn’t like you,” You sigh as you continue to wipe down his face. Whatever chill that had been in your eyes and tone was gone now- slowly melting away. Sky was thankful as he was sure he was about to be frozen solid.

“They were sinners. Heretics. Vermin. They made you cry, made you doubt yourself. I hate seeing you cry so I had to deal with what made you upset. If they were taken care of, then… then you’d be happy again, right? Now that they’re gone?” Sky whimpers as he looks at you for even a hair of acceptance. Even a sliver of praise that made it clear he had done right. Just… anything.

“While I would have used different methods, there’s no use in crying over it. I can’t change what’s been done- not this,” You mumble as you pull away. Fear grips Sky again and he grabs onto your retreating hands. In an act of selfishness, he presses them against his face and feels. Feels that tell tale burn he craves as it penetrates his skin. Feels you instinctively flex your fingers and barely dig your nails into his face. Feels your very pulse pump through your veins.

You free a hand from his grasp and dig it into his hair. He whines as you tug at his locks and he finds it in himself crawls towards you. He lays his head against your lap and pants from the heat they give off. Your touch is nothing short of blazing as you run your fingers through his hair and down his neck. He hopes you leave red in your wake as you rub his shoulders. He hopes that finally, finally, he’s done enough to earn your mark.

“My sun… oh my sun. Burn me, please. Scald me, burn me, torch me, melt me… please oh please. Burn your handprints into my skin and brand me with you lips. Let me know the fire of your touch for now and forever more. Melt away my legs so that I may forever kneel at your feet. Turn me to ash in the pyre of your soul so that I may know what it’s like to live,” Sky confesses as he clings to your lap. He smiles as his shoulders seem to be relieved of a burden he was unaware he was carrying. His every want and desire that’s festered in him since he saw you for the deity you are has finally been laid bare.

Soft and featherlight was the kiss you planted on his ear. It twitched and fluttered as your hot breath fanned across it. Sky whimpered as he felt your teeth graze the fragile flesh, as if looking for the best spot to bite. He did his best to muffle his whines and pleas but he couldn’t help his excitement- not when he was so certain he would finally be awarded with your claim on him.

His joy falters when you pull away and leave his ear aching. You help him stand and begin to walk him away from the bloody scene. He apologizes profusely for getting blood on your clothes but you tell him to shut it or else. He listens without further complaint.

Getting him into the bath house without being noticed is far from easy but you were never one to turn away a challenge. Once inside, you strip Sky of his linens and discard them. Where, he doesn’t know. He does know you though and knows that the blood soaked clothing will be well hidden enough to not be found for a few days. Long enough for you all to pack up your things and leave before the stench gets bad enough that they’re discovered. And even longer still until what’s left of the sinners is found. Though, Sky believes scavengers will sooner be attracted to the feast before any guard is.

Sky scrubs himself down and tints the bath water pink while you fetch him new clothes. He scrubs until he’s sure his skin will fall off as he knows you’ll scold him if you see even a single drop of blood left on his person. As quickly as he’s in the water, he’s out and getting dressed. You offer a quick and believable excuse to the innkeeper as you drag the stumbling man up the stairs and to his room. Wars raises a brow when you bring Sky to the room and nearly shoves the knight into the captain’s face.

“Keep any eye on him- please. I’ve had enough trouble tonight,” You groan before promptly leaving and shutting the door behind you. Sky ignores Wars’ stare and gets into his bed.

“Do I want to know?” Wars eventually asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m forgiven and the sinners are dead. Nothing more to tell,” Sky states cryptically. He settles in and doesn’t even care that his damp mop of hair wets the pillow beneath his head. Even with the lackluster response, Wars understands the scenario well enough.

“Never imagined you to be the one to get sloppy…” Wars mumbles as he gets back in his own bed. “I’m sure the Old Man will tan your hide come tomorrow, but that’s, well, for tomorrow. Though… I gotta ask; What did you get out of it?”

“I got to confess my sins and I was forgiven for them. Even if it were not done to me physically, I’ve finally been branded by our deity,” Sky sighs dreamily as he hugs his pillow tightly.

“Finally got close enough to get burned?”

“Yes. And I can’t describe how much I enjoyed the fall.”

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #Yandere lu sky #Yandere lu sky x reader #yandere lu #yandere lu x reader

138 notes · View notes

deadlynavigation · 1 year

Text

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #blitzo x reader #blitzo x y/n #lucifer #helluva boss x y/n #x reader #fanfiction #lilith #satan #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel

882 notes · View notes

silverflqmes · 2 months

Note

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

96 notes · View notes

bonefall · 2 months

Note

I personally like Thunder's prosthetic. Explained it to my friend (who does use a mobility device, a cane and wheelchair, and listens to me rant and infodump about BB) and they agreed, it's important to know that not every person needs what someone wants to give them. It's another example of "bad ableist person does a thing that hurts a disabled person because they are bad and ableist".

Clear Sky got Jagged Peak killed and would have killed Sunlit Frost! He would absolutely force his disabled son to be "normal" and present it like a privilege. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, it's special, why don't you want to be helped?"

Thunder Storm should toss it in Clear Sky's face. (I would say toss it into the river but we do not pollute waterways in this house)

Thank you for telling me this, and tell your friend I'm thanking them too! If they have anything else to add please forward what they have to say

Since BB!DOTC tackles some of the heaviest topics in the entire series because its canon equivalent is so dark, I think very carefully about what I do here and how I show it. I take feedback on its sensitive aspects very seriously. If I'm understanding the criticism properly, it's that I should avoid stigmatizing prosthetics by making sure Thunder Storm's not the only one with it-- which he's not! And I'll add even more.

I don't want to avoid something only because it's uncomfortable if the topic is important, and my portrayal is respectful. Ableism IS uncomfortable! There are some situations where a prosthetic is not wanted! I think the rejection of this particular one is both a good opportunity to show a type of ableism and ALSO is very fitting for the characters.

In BB!Clear Sky's mind, the villain, he's fixing an old mistake. He can't admit that he got Jagged Peak killed or take REAL accountability for it (though he will, occasionally, apologize insincerely), but deep in his bones, he knows what he did was cruel. He'll never tell anyone this because he doesn't really cognate it himself, but Thunder Storm NEEDS to take his gift.

If Thunder doesn't take it, it blows a hole in his newest story. You see, throwing Jagged Peak out was All That Could Have Been Done back then. It was a Tragedy and he simply Made A Hard Choice. He regrets it very much, But You Have To Understand.

But now? Now? Well, behold. Look at what he's accomplished since the tragic death of his little brother. His cats are well-fed, cared for, and stable enough to make such incredible advancements. If only Jagged Peak had been able to hold on longer, if only he could be here now, I could fix him.

Just like I can (MAKE YOU JUST LIKE ME) fix you.

"Everything I've ever done is for Jagged Peak. For Fluttering Wing. For you." Thunder Sky is SPECIAL, but if he rejects any gift, tries to turn down the "privileges" offered to him, in an instant that becomes ungratefulness and arrogance. He both forces him to be special, and then leverages it against him if it's rejected. "Spoiled brat, doesn't appreciate what I've worked so hard to give him."

It all goes back to him and his own guilt. He can NEVER be wrong. He can't accept his family doesn't have to be "normal" or reflect his own ability. He won't see himself as a bully, let alone a murderer. It was never about his son's comfort or finding out what Thunder Storm wants or needs, it was about his own ego.

...All that said I'm still taking feedback if there's anything else I should keep in mind, or if anyone has a counter point, especially if you also have experience here.

(In the interest of having a link trail for posterity, here's the critique/call for feedback this is in response to)

#ALSO also I will take suggestions on other characters who should have prosthetics #Sunlit makes sense and it will make a really nice character moment later for him to have one built #There's also an amputee in RiverClan few people talk about called Stonestream #I can give him one and bump him up into a bigger character. In BB he is the sibling of Willowshine #BB!DOTC #better bones au #Also just as a side note... I love writing BB!Skystar. My ire for the character comes from his redemption arc so I feel like I get to--#--write the character I WANTED to see #Same with Bramble in other BB arcs #cw ableism #tw ableism #ableism #They're fascinating in that they always have to see themselves as the victim or the hero #They believe every lie they tell.#If you ever catch them in a contradiction they will still try to find some way to turn it on you and YOUR lack of understanding.#Interestingly both of them are ableist. Sky's is just more obvious because he's LOUDLY bigoted.#But BB!Bramble is *notably* less close to Jay for a very sad and very subtle reason.#Jay just doesn't serve his ego like the others do until much later in his life.#unfortunately most bigotry is like that.#the type you have a hard time calling out because it's a deniable bias. the constant gaslighting of being part of a marginalized group #Maybe I need to address the criticism by adding a character with a prosthetic to THIS arc even earlier #Problem is that like... Thunder's small merc group is already full of disabled characters and their THING is forming in response to ableism #OH maybe I'll put someone in the Forest Cat group which is lead by Slash?#I need to finish that last book and then gather up all the cats for sorting into allegiances

78 notes · View notes

goldennightengale · 1 year

Note

Hello there! Here's my request for the day, could I have the Dorm Leaders hearing their female musician s/o sing a love song dedicated to them at VDC? As an added bonus, everyone (including their families) saw her performance and really liked it.

AAA I loved writing this so much!! I always have songs I assign to the boys going through my head all the time so this was so much fun writing! I hope you enjoy it~ -GN

Warnings: N/A

Fem! MC

A Song for Your Love

Riddle Rosehearts (Sombody to Hold My Heart - Lindsey Sterling)

When I tell you this man was flustered when you pointed him out in the crowd. Not only was your song full of love and energy, but all of your attention was on him, laser-focused on his face in the roaring crowd as you danced and sang across the stage like a professional. He’s the type to try and show his affection through actions instead of words, so expect a lot of flowers, gifts, and lots of hand-holding!

What made it even worse was he knew this was being broadcasted. Though he felt horrified by the thought of his mother watching you perform, specifically with him in mind, he was quickly reassured that she was more than amused by your eccentric proclaims of affection. She appreciates a confident woman speaking her mind, especially towards her son.

Leona Kingscholar (Lazy Love - Chloe X Halle)

Smug Bastard x100 He’s making that concert seat look like a throne with how confident he looks, knowing full well that you are talking about him. Nobody else in the thousands seated near him. (Don’t mention how he might have a slight ego about being the second prince, he can’t give you the throne you deserve but he can give himself to you instead. Knowing you return the gesture makes him unreasonably happy)

Forgot it was being broadcasted until he got a facetime call from his brother congratulating him on having a mate of his very own, especially one so talented! Cheka starts begging him to bring you back to the palace and Leona hangs up before he can get the waterworks going.

Azul Ashengrotto (Cariño - The Marías)

Stuck between stunned, smug, and highly embarrassed. He has this goofy smile as he watches you strut across the stage, occasionally ducking his face into his hands when you purr the lyrics into the mic and wink at him in the crowd.

His mama went NUTS when she caught her guppy getting serenaded on live broadcast and demanded that he bring you home. She wants to meet the gal who made her baby smile like that!

Kalim Al-Asim (What is Love? - Jonelle Monáe)

Your hype man. He’s jumping, dancing, screaming your name, and “I love you”s as you perform. Jamil tries to get him to calm down but how could he when you look like the brightest star in the desert sky? His Jewel has talent!

His father was laughing so loudly when he called, delighted with his son’s choice in love. Immediately offered to build you a personal stadium in return for you (marrying his son) performing for the entire Al-Asim family.

Vil Shoenheit (Only Girl (In the World) - Rihanna)

Smug x100 pt. 2, He is preening under the spotlight of your affections and, while he may be judging your routine (lovingly ofc), he genuinely likes how you make it clear to others that he chose you above everyone else. Though he does question if you have a death sentence announcing your relationship so boisterously.

His father loved your performance! Bold and confident, you really must have what it takes to make his son fall so hard for you. While he may not be at the front of the musical entertainment business, he’d be willing to get you some connections if you ever decide to pursue music in the field.

Idia Shroud (Icarus - Grant Knoche)

Hates the attention but melts under your loving stare, completely enraptured by your declaration of love and the thought that you did all this for him. Is 100% recording everything so he can rewatch it over and over again late at night and squeal like a fangirl in the privacy of his room.

His parents teased him relentlessly for finally getting a girlfriend, calling you his Pomegranate, and begging him to bring you home so they can meet you properly. Your references to a well-known myth are not lost on them, and the dedication to get close knowing the potential to get hurt is more than enough to get their trust. His hair is pink by the end of the call but you can tell he’s really happy they like you.

Malleus Draconia (Sunset - Caroline Polachek)

Smug x100 pt. 3, because not only did you invite him to this whole ordeal, but you were performing for him and admitting how much you felt about him in front of such a large crowd. Is not aware of your performance being broadcasted, but knowing that everyone will know who you chose as a mate is more than enough to get him all smug again.

Oh, his grandmother is more than pleased that her grandson found someone so wonderful to rule beside him. The trust you put in him, the clear admittance that you see him as a safe place, it's all proof to the reigning Queen. She’s heard a lot about you from Lilia so it only makes sense for you to visit Briar Valley to make your engagement official, no?

I know this was very short but I hope I fulfilled your wish! -GN

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #my god finding good images is so difficult

564 notes · View notes

zarnzarn · 4 days

Text

"You used to smile more," Lamb says.

Narinder flicks a ear to dispel the flies and looks out at the fading sun. "I used to have things to smile about."

"Am I not a thing to smile about?" Lamb teases. Narinder huffs and hits them in the arm, rolling his eyes, lips quirking.

"No, not that," Lamb says, an odd note in their voice. Narinder looks over. "These smiles I know. Amused, fond small ones or half-smothered flustered ones, or smug, annoying smirks. But you used to smile big in the Gateway, remember?" They stretch their cheeks with two fingers pointedly. "All teeth!"

Narinder shrugs and turns back to the sky. "Used to."

A few beats pass. Then, in a smaller voice than Narinder has ever heard it, "Do I not make you happy?"

Narinder sighs and closes his eyes. He had guessed where the conversation was going to go, but it didn't make it any easier to navigate. "Lamb..."

"Do you not enjoy my gifts?" They demand. "My compliments, my offerings, my touch? I have tried everything, Narinder, everything. But no matter what I do, not once in three hundred springs have I gotten that same easy smile from you, my one."

"Well, demanding it isn't going to get you one," He snaps back, irritation rising.

"Well then, what is?" Lamb sits up, crossing their arms. "What can I do to make you happy, Narinder?"

"I am happy," Narinder protests.

"Are you?"

Narinder thins his lips. "I am content."

"But you're not happy," Lamb says, raw and miserable, pushing themselves up to look down at him. "I- I understand you didn't like me taking the crown, I know your pride was hurt, I know you don't like being mortal, but how long are you going to sulk over it?"

They've raised their voice by the end of the sentence, face screwed up in repressed anger, cruel in the way they spit out the accusation. Narinder vaguely feels a pang of hurt at their words, but also mostly feels a whole lot of nothing. Mild resignation, maybe.

"I mean, seriously, the other Bishops are in the same place as you, but I'm out here playing knucklebones and ring toss with my murderers, and I'm still stuck at square one with you? What the fuck, Narinder, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," He replies honestly. Even thinking about drudging up a smile, a fake one, makes him feel more tired than an entire month's labour ever had.

"Do you want the Red Crown, even now? Is that it? Then, here," Narinder's chest squeezes painfully at the inhale he takes when Lamb aggressively pulls the crown off their head and holds it out. "Take it. It's yours."

Narinder stares at them with wide eyes. Looks to the Crown, which looks just as taken aback as him, at the easy surrender. For a minute, fire itches behind his teeth, craving the familiar force of the Red Crown behind his movements and the joyful annihilation that came with it, the peaceful passing of souls he used to help with.

Then he remembers white, and looks away. Besides, the humiliation of being handed something won off him in fair laws out of pity was too much, even for his tattered dignity. "I do not want the crown, Lamb."

A surprised inhale. "So then what?" Their voice cracks. "What do I need to do to make you smile at me again?"

"Lamb-"

"I used to make you so happy," Lamb's voice breaks with tears. Narinder pushes himself upright in worry, painfully wondering how long they'd been holding this in. "I used to make you grin ear to ear just by being there, I used to make you laugh, you used to like my jokes and my songs and my stories and my antics, and now, even on our wedding renewals your eyes barely crinkle. What can I do, Narinder, to make you love me again?"

The wound in his chest pulses agonizingly. "I do love you, Lamb."

"How, if you're not even happy?" They demand, tears rolling down their face. "I miss you so much, Narinder, every day- because deny it or not, I remember what you were when we met, and I know i only hold a part of you now. I'm asking you again, how do I get the rest of you back?"

"I-" Narinder can't think of anything to say. Can't find the words to fix this, stop the tears.

Lamb's face falls as the silence stretches. They straighten up, out of reach. "I see."

Narinder grimaces and reaches out, missing as the other stands up and takes a step back. "Lamb."

"Never mind, then." They walk away, a hand to their face and shoulders shaking.

"LAMB!" He shouts, but they're already gone. Narinder groans and collapses back onto the grass, a hand over his eyes. He'll have to track them down later now.

How to tell them that he hadn't truly smiled since he'd fought with his siblings, all those centuries ago? That what they had seen was- sickness or madness or something, fuelled by the prospect of finally being free, of revenge, of a vessel he loved always so eager and excited to see him? That being happy was something that sat well on him, but joy had always taken over his mind and body and drove him to smile with too many teeth and burn those around him when it came?

That every time he felt happy enough to smile, all he could think of was the knife in his chest as his siblings clawed out his heart, and the axe in his ribs as the sheep he loved did the same thing again a thousand years later.

How to tell them that the only way he still could was if they weren't next to him to watch?

He knew Lamb would fall to pieces if he admitted that he thinks he could smile, had smiled, with people other than them. Their history had been messy and stained even when they first kissed, even before it had been subjected to the usual strain of a century-long relationship and Narinder had no intention of finding out whether this was the thing that finally did them in.

With a sigh, he lets go of the misery for now, resolving to find words to explain later. No need to borrow from future worries, as they say.

Still. Narinder holds a palm up against the sun, watching his fur turn brown at the edges, warming his bones. Away from others, from all the tumultuous relationships and bitter mistakes and traitorous loved ones, he smiles, properly, at the gentle light, gentle warmth. It was tiring, for the anger and shame to still have such a hold on him, after all these years.

Perhaps it was time to try harder. He had done so many impossible things in his life; how hard could loving without a heart be?

#bpd bf vs anxiety partner FIGHT #cult of the lamb #narinder #lamb #narinder x lamb #true devotion #my fic #OH YEAH ALSO. WHERE R MY NARINDER GOT HIS HEART RIPPED OUT TRUTHERS. DO NO EVIL!!!

53 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 8 months

Text

Why I Can't Epic Legend

I finally understand.

I've complained before about struggling with writing Legend. I've spoken about how bringing out the stars inside him is difficult in comparison to Every Other Hero Ever, and now I understand why.

Warriors is a captain, the Hero of Warriors. Warriors is a man of battle, of fighting. He's a person who turns to the blade as his first move when trouble arises. His strength lies in his skill on the battlefield.

Time is a hero who's spent every moment fighting. Time has everything to lose, everything he's always wanted and finally has. Time strikes first before anything else can strike him, can take, can steal everything he's managed to claw back from Fate.

Wild stands alone. Wild does not fight with but only beside. Wild relies on himself and himself alone. He does not wait for others who will only fall to join at his side, he runs ahead and strikes hard and fast with no thought given for those around because in his world there is no one around.

Hyrule knows how to strike first and how to survive. Hyrule knows fighting and knows that when a battle begins, sitting back will do no good. He strives to be enough, to fight for a place among heroes he can only look up at, rather than see himself level with.

Wind strives to be seen as a man. He fights every moment to earn the respect of those who've faced less than what he has defeated. Wind stands in the shadow of the heroes who came before, in the shadow of the Hero of Time, and he is running, racing, striking out to escape that shadow and join his brothers in the light.

Time dogs Sky's heels. Whispers of failure driving him to not stand back, to strike, to fight, to stand foremost against an enemy that fears him above all else, that flees before his blade and his blade alone. Sky will not be too late again, he will not wait, he will not stand back. He will not let ruin fall again because he lingered.

Ghosts and failures not his own haunt Twilight. Just over his shoulder lies the reminders of a beloved mentor who fell too soon to do right by his bloodline, too soon to settle a soul long steeped in turmoil. Fear at a loss brought too soon, a loss he could prevent, a fate he can't stop but wishes to put off, sends him to battle, to watch the backs of a father and to stop a second death to the ones he calls brothers.

Four is so accustomed to a team of his own making, of his own mind and body and soul, that to work with others beyond himself is still new, still a struggle. Effort lies there, an attempt to offer aid, but new skills are not to be learned mid-battle just as weapons ought not be tested the first time against enemies in combat. He's still getting there, still fighting, but when all fails, his own strength is what he can trust in, his own blade what he can trust to see him through.

And that leaves Legend. Legend who has spent so long fighting, seen every flavour of battle and war, that he falls behind. He doesn't stand weak at their backs, letting stronger blades than his own take the brunt of the attack. He doesn't cower and hide in fear. Quite contrary, his strength far outweighs their own, his skill surpassing theirs. He has at his disposal knowledge and skill and strength that they will not achieve even in this venture. He does not lead with this strength though, not when so many feet charge to the front. He does not guide and call to aid as he has in past before armies and kingdoms.

The Hero of Legend, the Herald of Hyrule's Golden Era, the Star of Hyrule's Sky, is the shield to protect the backs of the eight swords that strike out against the evil that dances through time. His skill and strength and talents are poured into covering the weaknesses left open by those less experienced. Where they charge he holds back, covering, watching, eyes trailing not one but all of the field, attention turned not to the greatest threats as the others do but to the multiple smaller ones that will hamper the steps of those whose focus is not on them.

Legend does not step out and foremost, into the spotlight and taking the front lines because that is where everyone else already is. Legend holds back to watch their asses and, as such, cannot take the lead or the focus. He won't, he can't, not when no one else stands to fill the place that he does, the one that needs heart and hands attending to it at all times.

That doesn't make for good fic fodder though. It dances out here, but in a story this would fall to the sidelines; a comment or note about the veteran's whereabouts that will quickly be overtaken by the actions and movements of heroes who race to the forefront of the viewer, to the climax of the battle that Legend so intentionally stays back from.

To bring Legend to the spotlight, to the front lines and into a place where his true power and skill would be made most evident, one would have to somehow level all other heroes with a threat beyond their ken, beyond their skill. To do so would be to bring a threat worse than Ganon, worse than Demise upon them.

And who can fathom such a threat?

How can one level eight men and boys, all who have overcome the greatest threats of their kingdom, and somehow manage to leave only one standing? How can such a scene exist without somehow reducing Hylia's Heroes to pathetic children and amateurs? How can such a thing happen without painting a scene so unbelievable as to make the hero who overcomes it seem not a valiant protagonist, but rather a childish depiction of one?

And thus exists the reason why every hero will bear the spotlight but the one I most wish to direct it to :(

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #ketto's writing misadventures

158 notes · View notes

azsazz · 2 years

Text

Cupid's Chokehold (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it's a little hard to explain what you're trying to do.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,938

Notes: So happy that you all liked part one! This fic is so much fun, I love it so so much.

[Part One]

_________________________________________

You don’t get your bow back.

You’re offered a room, more lavish than anything you’ve ever seen, draped in the finest fabrics of the land, dark and welcoming, with a warm crackling hearth and plush furniture that’s almost as soft as your wings.

The twin wraiths leave you with word they’ll retrieve you for dinner and you’re left to your own devices.

You scowl over your shoulder at the walls like they can hear you, see you, anything and everything that you do. You’re sure there’s some otherworldly power here, can feel it prowling within the house itself as if it has its own beating heart. You smirk at the silly thought, a house that’s alive, such a thing couldn’t be.

Your eyes snag on the balcony and you stalk for it, throwing open the heavy doors. The wind breezes across you as you step outside and you breathe in heartily, the fresh air settling your bones.

The sight is stunning. The bustling city below, lights twinkling across the streets like the ones that will appear in the sky soon, bright and welcoming. The buildings painted all sorts of colors, pinks and purples and blues, like a rainbow of shops all lined up against the river cutting through the city, sparkling in the moonlight.

Glancing over your shoulder once more you analyze the room again. Something feels off, like that shadowsinger of the High Lord’s is prowling through the darkened corners of the chamber. You take into account any and all of the places his shadows could be lurking: under the large four–poster bed, behind the curtains, in the crevices of the rooms where the light from the hearth doesn’t reach.

There’s only one way to test your theory.

You push up easily onto the stone keeping you from falling over the edge of the house into the dark abyss directly below, filled with the loose gravel and red rocky stones making up the rest of the rich mountains no doubt. The wind dances across your face and you shut your eyes in bliss, breathing in deeply as you roll your shoulders, aching from keeping your wings tucked tightly behind you, glamored for so long.

When you begin bouncing on the balls of your feet and spreading your arms wide like you’re about to throw yourself off of the balcony is when the shadowsinger prepares to strike, manifesting from the dark contours of the shadows.

He lunges silently, reaching out to grab your arm and haul you back but he falters at the slight shimmer beneath the silver moonlight as you remove the glamor from your feathery white wings.

Azriel’s sharp inhale has you glaring at him over the crest of your wing, his lean figure frozen as he gazes at you, arm fallen slack at his side. His eyes gleam golden in the moonlight and you hold back a shiver from his wandering eyes.

You are breathtaking, silhouetted against the pale moonlight, wings splayed wide for him to see as you stretch your aching muscles. He’s seen feathered wings of course, but yours look much softer than the warrior Peregryn’s from the Dawn Court. The breeze kisses your hair, blowing it gently from your face where it’s turned towards him, ruffling your stark white feathers.

It makes his mouth run dry.

“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he manages to say, nodding towards the open night sky before you as he collects himself, allowing his shadows to swirl around your ankles with warning.

You study him for a moment, grazing over those membranous wings again as if sizing him up.

It makes something within him stir.

“And if I do?” you question, shuffling so the tips of your toes hang over the edge of the thick stone railing.

You know the lethal looking male will dive after you, skilled with centuries of aerial attack training. He’d easily disable you and drag you back to the pits of whatever ungodly sub–court lurks beneath this one, eager to see his gleaming weapons pressed to your perfectly unmarked skin.

Oh and he’d love to drag your pretty ass back to his chambers. He’s itching for you to jump, needing a chase to release him from this pent up energy. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him. A beautiful creature lurking in his lands with the intent to harm his High Lady’s sister shouldn’t be having this sort of effect on him.

“We’ll miss dinner,” is what he goes with, tone cool and even, “And I don’t think you want to keep the High Lord waiting.”

Your wings droop slightly at his words, gaze falling to the abyss below. You haven’t wanted to let yourself fall over the edge more than right now. Azriel allows himself a moment to stare, drinking you in while you’re not looking. You still feel awful for what you had said in his office, the insults you’d spoken about his kind.

Reluctantly, you climb down from the railing with ease, the twirls of darkness retreating towards their master once your feet are firmly on the balcony once more. You say nothing as you pass him, and he trails you silently through your room until you reach the lush hallway where he takes the lead.

Azriel fills you in on what they expect of you, him and his High Lord, explaining that you are to pose as a citizen of the Dawn Court, one of Thesan’s trusted researchers, should the glamor on your wings fail.

You knew that it wouldn’t.

It had almost been too easy for him and his brothers to come up with a backstory for you. You looked every bit like the effervescent females of the solar court, gilded in gold armor with similarly feathered wings to the Peregryn. You were clearly an intelligent female too, even if you’d been caught by the spymaster himself, he’d be foolish to think differently.

You were sent by the High Lord himself, seeking information for your research about a certain healing spell, one that hadn’t been tried in hundreds of years.

You hoped that his family would believe it.

You stay mostly quiet throughout the meal, only answering questions you’ve been directly asked, not offering up any information about yourself besides what the Illyrian males had come up with.

Feyre’s eyebrows twitch from where she’s sitting near the head of the table and you’re left wondering if her and her mate are doing that daemati thing you’d heard about. Speaking into each other’s minds. Such an intimate dealing, being able to know your lover's thoughts at any given moment.

Azriel lets his shadows fill him in on your reactions throughout the meal: your body language, the way your eyes light up at the deliciousness of certain foods, the soft smile that you try to conceal by looking down at your plate, letting your hair fall in front of your face. He notes your curious eyes, flickering around the table as you make your own assessments, citing your own observations.

You notice the way that the Autumn Court male glances longingly at the bubbly middle sister of the High Lady between each bite. Lucien, he’d introduced himself with a strange look on his face, as if he knew you from somewhere but couldn’t remember the time nor place.

You’d hastily moved on, introducing yourself to the High Lord’s cousin instead.

If bubbly was how you described Elain, Mor was positively fizzy. Her vivacious energy and warm spirit had you liking her instantly, and the way she poked fun at the shadowsinger scored her even more points in your book.

“Not so stealthy anymore, are you Az?” she questions the shadowsinger with a wickedly provocative grin on her ruby painted lips, having caught him in the act of watching you. “Lost your touch?”

The brooding male only simpers, casting her with a dark glare that has absolutely no effect on her, having received that look many times for her testing jokes over the centuries they’d known each other.

What Mor is not prepared for, however, is one of his shadows snaking around her ankle and tripping her on her way to the dining table.

She yelps, careening towards the floor but Cassian is there, catching her with the grace of a well trained warrior.

The male laughs down at her and she beams in response, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and crying out dramatically, “My savior!”

Nesta glares at them and you watch amused, wondering if she had somehow gotten shot with two arrows instead of one, for the glare she was shooting at the energetic blonde could crack diamonds and eat souls.

It doesn’t end quick enough. Although the food is delicious you’re stuffed, don’t even think you could manage one more bite if your life depended on it and you’ve got a creeping headache that the few sips of fae wine you’d managed has done nothing to soothe.

You excuse yourself as the family moves from the dining room to the sitting room, cups and bottles of the heady alcohol with them as you retreat to your room for some much needed rest. A terrible day, it had been, and you’d like nothing more than a long bath and to fall into the open arms of the cozy looking bed in your chamber.

The shadowsinger’s eyes follow you until you disappear up the stairs.

__________

Azriel arrives at the training ring at first light.

He’s usually the first one out of his brothers to show up, always ready for a training session. It had been this way for years, Azriel taking his time to stretch his tired muscles, enjoying the early mornings alone, needing to be as lax and limber for the spars that lasted hours between him and the males he calls his family. He never knew what kind of moods they would be in when they arrived.

But the shadowsinger hadn’t been expecting you of all people to be here.

You’re settled in the center of the ring, a heart drawn around you into the rich red sand. You kneel, feet bare and buried into the softness beneath you, grounding you even though you’re on the roof of the High Lord’s home. Your wings are glamoured once again, for your safety as much as they are for your cover with Rhysands family. Your palms spread wide and resting on your knees, chin lifted towards the sky, the first beams of light glittering on your skin.

“Mother, we are your daughters. We remember, we remain,” you chant softly and Azriel’s thick brows furrow as he watches, allowing his shadows to sneak closer for a better look.

It reminds him of the priestesses in the library floors below, how they murmur to the Mother but with different words, their prayers calling out for Her to relinquish their pain, free their souls of the hardships they’d endured.

“Good morning, Cupid,” his molasses like voice startles the quiet morning air, the low rumbling tone settling in the pit of your stomach as you look up.

He’s wearing the same outfit as yesterday, black leathers, sans weapons this time, and you wonder if he owns anything other than the armor he’s donning now.

You tip your head towards him in greeting, resettling into the sands below. The quiet nature of this male shouldn’t bother you, you decide, and you let your mind wander. You let yourself imagine the shadowsinger in something else, but can’t seem to stop picturing his naked torso, how beneath his clothes is pure rippling muscle.

Sighing, you surrender your position, tucking your legs out from under you to stretch them in front, your legs crying in relief.

You surely won’t be able to focus now.

Azriel is still watching you, lost in his own mind. How you could glamor your wings so well even Rhysand hadn’t been able to sense the magic that hid them from sight. He wondered what they’d feel like beneath his blemished fingers, how they’d react to his touch. Were they as sensitive as his own? He wanted to see them splayed out wide for only him–

“I’m finished,” you let him know, waving to the open space in the ring, though you don’t look like you want to move, “You carry on with whatever.”

The corner of his mouth lifts but you’re far too intrigued with running your fingers through the auburn sand, enjoying the way the rough grains feel against your skin, reminding you of the taut string of the bow still hidden within the folds of the world.

You needed to think of a way to get it back.

“You mention you’ve been in the Night Court before, and by the way you spoke of the Illyrians made it seem like you hated it, so why come back? Couldn’t you have given your assignment to someone else?” the shadowsinger questions as he crosses the ring towards the training weapons. He’s utterly intrigued by you but doesn’t know why. The strange creature that had invaded his home sent with a mission to harm his family…

Recon, he boils it down to. It’s just recon.

Azriel pulls a sparring sword off of the rack. It’s the best one in his opinion – his favorite one; perfectly worn in from years of training, the heavy wood littered with knicks and splintering away at some parts of the buloke blade.

He grins to himself, extra damage if he lands a hit to Cassian, who he knows will be crying about the splinters in his skin should he land a hit. He’ll be moping for weeks after Nesta or Madja has to dig them out of the sensitive Illyrians arm.

All the more incentive.

“I'm sorry for speaking of your kind that way,” you begin softly but are interrupted by his scoff.

“Not my kind.” It would be a service to the Night Court to have the Illyrian race wiped out. They were a horrible group of people who did terrible things to their own kind because their traditions and views had not been changed in centuries.

They could burn in hell for all he cares.

“Your assignment…” he drawls when you don’t respond.

“No, I couldn’t have given my assignment away, it doesn’t work like that,” you nearly growl. This male! So arrogant about your kind. But you suppose you were about his people as well, maybe you should cut him some slack. Sighing, you add, “The last time I was in this dreaded court I had to shoot the High Lord with an arrow to stop a poor female from getting her wings clipped. I swore I’d never come back.”

His grip slackens around the hilt of the sword in surprise and his head shoots up to look at you in disbelief. He thanks the Mother that you’re not looking at him, chin raised to the sky once more with your eyes closed, a long inhale filling your lungs with the crisp morning air.

Rhys’ parents were your doing?

“I wouldn’t mention that to the High Lord,” Azriel says coldly, eyes growing dark as he tightens his grip around the hilt once more, moving fluidly through his warm up movements. “If he finds out he may actually kill you.”

You glance at him sharply, brows creased in a way that makes him feel sorry for even mentioning it. He wants to swipe his thumb across your skin to smooth the wrinkles out...or maybe use his lips instead.

“What’s the better alternative?” You spit, climbing to your feet. You brush the coarse sand from your hands and your clothes, dreaded black like the rest of them wore. You preferred red. “A world where your High Lord doesn’t exist or one where she would have been tethered to the Earth forever? There are worse fates, shadowsinger,” you argue.

And he had to give you that, at least. A world without Rhys…he shivers at the thought. Of what he had to do for his brother's father for so many years.

They were much better off under Rhysand’s reign.

“What happens if you don’t shoot Elain?” he follows up, slashing the dummy blade through the air with such precision and control that you can’t help but follow. They way his muscles move beneath his leathers, the action an afterthought after so many years of training.

You blush and avert your gaze when he looks over at you, an inky eyebrow raised.

“Nothing. We have our assignments and I usually like to do mine in order they are received,” you shrug a shoulder.

There have been many times throughout your career where you’d had to shoot a pair that wouldn’t last. It stung sometimes, to do such a thing, but you trust the Mother more than anything and she’ll never be wrong.

“I suggest you start thinking of changing career paths then,” he croons, amused, “Because I don’t think you’ll ever get the chance to shoot Elain with one of your arrows.”

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes glinting with challenge. “Fate has a funny way of working, shadowsinger, don’t you worry.”

And there’s that word again…fate. Azriel refuses to believe that you could so strongly follow the idea of destiny, that certain things are bound to happen and cannot be changed. Written out by the Mother herself for her loyal Cupids to follow.

“Is that a threat?” He bristles. It sure as hell sounds like one.

Your sly smirk paired with a dark glare at him makes something awaken inside of him. His cock twitches in his pants.

“It’s a promise.”

#azrielxreader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz #cupids chokehold #cupid #acosf #azriel/you

975 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 4 months

Text

Percy Jackson except Jason and Thalia were the first children born after the Big 3 vow.

Long before the events of the story.

Thalia still ends up and tree, but no one really knew what happened to Jason.

Until Sea of Monsters where instead of Tantalus showing up, Jason does.

Because if there's one thing Zeus/Jupiter's gonna do, it's punish his sons.

And just... Imagine everyone expecting some grised old being who's committed the worse crimes on earth.

But it's a kid.

It's a kid a few years older them wearing a tattered purple top.

He'd look like any other camper but there's chains on his wrists and ankles that drag behind him.

Scars covering his body and a tattoo no ones able to fully see.

His eyes mirror the sky before them and hold so much sadness that a person could drown in them.

Chiron is suprised to see him, a mix of greif and relief in his eyes as he greets him.

"It's good to see you, child."

"And you too, sir."

"None of that now, you are among friends."

Jason visibly relaxes at that, his smile goes from polite and practiced to genuine.

"Right... It's good to see you, old man."

His humour is so dry that's it's hard to tell when he's joking or not. And yet he's gotten some laughs.

It feels like a reward in itself when someone makes him laugh. His whole face lights up and for a second the sadness in him fades.

Jason's less off a new camp director as he is a glorified babysitter. And yet he takes it all in stride.

He's not a pushover and steps in to mediate, but for the most part let's everyone carry on as they wish.

If he's not around, Jason can be found sitting by his sisters tree. He talks in a hushed whisper, catching her up.

If anyone notices him crying, no one says a word.

Jason proves himself as a formidable fighter, having stopped a camper struggling with a sword technique and demonstrating it to them patiently.

Clarisse immediately challenges Jason.

He's clearly holding back but Jason does give her a fair fight. His fighting style is a lot more polished.

And yet, there's something wild about it.

He does smile at one point, when Maimer strikes him.

"I'm afraid, that little trick won't work on me."

It was a short fight but the Ares cabin definitely gained some respect for him.

Clarisse asks why he didn't use the electricity against her, and he says he can't.

Shaking his chains like that explained everything.

It's easy to forget Jason's parentage. Especially after seeing him gush over architecture with Annabeth.

Hell all he needs is grey eyes and he'd fit right in to the Athena cabin.

And yet, at the same time there's no one else who fits as Jason's parent than Zeus (well Jupiter but they don't know that.)

Jason's a natural leader, he's a great diplomat and can defuse even the most chaotic situations.

There's power in his words, authority and yet he doesn't abuse it. There's a weight that's always on his shoulders.

He's a mystery.

He doesn't sleep in the Zeus Cabin, he has a blanket and curls up on the ground. Apparently he's used too it.

Tho there's been times he has been persuaded to sleep in the Hermes cabin, it's rare he accepts.

Not that he sleeps much. People have heard the screams from his nightmares.

More often than not Jason's awake, talking to the Naids and Nymphs as he patrols camp grounds late at night.

Surprisingly none try and attack him, in fact they all treat him with respect.

Grover says that Jason's blessed by the wild by an ancient being, not that he knows who.

Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself, he will talk at length about his sister though. And old friends with a sad smile.

The past is a hard subject for him, he says bits and pieces but not much.

The camps magical food doesn't work for him. Jason goes out of camp borders and goes hunting.

He eats alone, outside and Hestia makes a fire for him. He always sacrifices some food to her.

But also to Hera, which was surprising.

"But your a son of Zeus... Does she accept offerings from you?"

"I'd hope so, I am her champion."

It takes a while for anyone to realise but Jason's chains are heavy.

In fact there are days where Jason simply can't move. Because lugging them around tires him out.

And sometimes the camps borders simply don't let him leave.

On those days some campers have hunted for him.

Jason's always suprised and thankful. He'll share and tell them not to out themselves in danger for him.

But they do so anyway.

Camp Half blood decided a long while back Jason was one of them.

He's like everyone's stressed out, tired, nerdy older brother.

Jason has no knowledge of pop culture and apparently that's a crime.

But since no tech is allowed at camp, which means a lot of reinactments of memes

He's still confused but very entertained.

They've seen him fight monsters and it's so different to how he's fought in spars.

Jason fights to survive, he doesn't have a weapon other than his own chains.

He growls, he rips monsters apart with his bare hands and teeth.

Only stopping when they've all been defeated.

It was awesome.

Tho he did almost get hit by lighting from above and had to rush back into camp.

"Can I ask, what are you being punished for?"

"Let's just say, me and my dad had a disagreement."

Zeus: He's a monster, he's nothing but trouble and a mistake.

Camp Half blood: If monster, why friend shaped?

#long post #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians

76 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — first loves + bkg.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, fem + black-coded!reader, post war, implied bnha spoilers, hints of ptsd/panic attacks, first loves, loverboy bkg, idk what this is guys they’re just kids in love and i wrote this listening to the new(ish) 5sos album bye.

they say you never really get over your first love, katsuki bakugou can attest to that.

in the summer after his eighteen birthday, his parents take him on one last family vacation before he breaks into the hero industry. they go abroad, somewhere far away from the trail of heartbreak left in japan— it’d been a hard year. he’d lost a lot. bakugou’s vision shakes a little in his grey-pinkish eye, his skin is bumpy with scars over his eyes and under his shirts. he’s a little more afraid to go in public in fear of being recognised.

so, katsuki takes that venture abroad. where no one knows who he is and what he’s been through.

katsuki’s parents like to explore, they drag him under a sun that’s a little foreign and not like japan’s across a strange city to try new foods that expand his horizons and makes his tastebuds a little happier. they force him to take photos in front of old bridges and historic monuments— though his dad snaps a nice one of bakugou walking through the bustling streets, a backwards baseball cap resting on his nest of hair.

on the last night, they have dinner at a beachside restaurant— bakugou excuses himself when the noises get a little too much and remind him of a time where nearly he lost his life. he stumbles out, down the steps and along the vast stretch of sand looking for the space to breathe along the waterfront. waves crash hard against the shore like the anxiety attacking his brain and katsuki has to crouch down to get a hold of himself before the world tilts too far and he falls off the invisible edge.

“are you okay?”

when he looks up, red eyes narrowly avoiding the glare of the sunset— he sees a girl. her skin looks like it’s been kissed by the solar system, beautiful brown tone glowing under the golden night— accompanied brown doe eyes boring deep into his own, reading his soul as if it were only made up of the constellations beginning to dot themselves in the sky. she has these braids he’s never quite seen before but they frame the roundness of her cheeks perfectly and…he’s never felt love before, aside from the kind you have for friends and family and bakugou doesn’t believe in fate. everything happening for a reason and shit.

because that would mean what happened to him…well, it would mean he deserved it.

but in this moment, the moment this girl offers him her hand and crouches down to see if he’s okay. he feels it. love, filling the blood that pumps through his beating heart. slowly, tenderly, his calloused and marred hand takes her own— the girl making a small noise of content as they sit together, bottoms wet from the sand.

they stay there, together for a while. katsuki and this strange girl he’s only just met— listening to the seagulls call for one another just metres above their heads accompanied by the waves that roll along the shoreline as if they were made to be together. it calms him down, and sure enough bakugou’s chest stops it’s heaving and the scary noises in his head back off for the minute. his mother screams his name in the distance and the girl looks over the blonde’s shoulder with her lips in a pout and brows furrowed— quizzical as if she’s putting together pieces of a puzzle.

“oh, you probably didn’t understand me earlier, right?” she speaks suddenly yet hesitantly, her voice filling his ears like cotton, in broken japanese instead of the fluent english from earlier. “a-are you okay?”

bakugou hums shyly, cheeks flashing red. “‘m fine now. couldn’t breathe before.”

“i’m glad—“ she starts to reply but bakugou’s mother has always been persistent and irritating especially at the worst times— yelling his name again. the pair’s shoulders rise like cats on the prowl and the girl let’s out the cutest laugh he’s ever heard in his life. “i think your mum’s calling, katsuki.”

“s-shut up!” bakugou scrambles to his feet just as the girl does, brushing the sand from her warm skin.

“you should go! i’ll see you around, kay?”

she’s gone before he can even blink, as if she were never there. the only way he truly knows that the girl was real is all thanks to his mother— mitsuki pestering him with questions about the girl all the way back to the restaurant. who was she? did you know her? are you okay? they all go through one ear and come out of the other. all bakugou can think about from then is how she thought she would see him again.

which wouldn’t happen, since he was leaving tomorrow.

for the next ten years, memories of the girl with honeyed brown skin and darling chocolate eyes haunt katsuki’s every waking moment. he tried everything in his power to forget her, his first love— even if they moments they shared together were brief, they’re all he thinks about when the world gets a little too ugly and a little too heavy to sit on his shoulders.

no one had ever been that gentle with him, treated him so kindly at first sight— after seeing all of him, scarred and all. no one has ever compared to her since.

that is until the warm tones of your voice echo through the dynamight agency one day— your japanese a little stronger than it was almost a decade ago when it changed the trajectory of katsuki bakugou’s life.

“h-hi, i’m here for the assistant role for um…dynamight?” you say, still shy and hesitant, still quiet and cute.

and only the heavens know how thankful katsuki is for not forgetting his first love— for remembering the way you talk, the way your eyes shimmer as he rounds the corner and reveals himself to you. taller than you remember, older and wiser than in your head— but still your first love too.

“you’re okay!” you squeak upon his reveal, clutching your bag in one shaky hand— voice wobbling as if you’d been worried about bakugou this entire time.

the blonde nods simply, trying to remember what it was he said to you all those years ago when you’d first asked him that.

“‘m fine, feel like i can breathe again.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabbles #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #bakugou x black reader #bakugou fics #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted #IDK WHAT THIS IS #was inspired by the new 5sos album lol

774 notes · View notes