#where beauty moves and wit delights
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★LOVE★
Darling! Hisoka Morow x Yandere! Reader
cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Noncon turned Dubcon • Yandere Themes • Murder • Emotional Instability • Yandere! Reader • Drug usage • HC • PIV
This is not “reader” inclusive as I’d assume nearly 99.9% of you do not exhibit true yandere traits. This is written with a female yandere in mind. No other physical descriptors will be used, but “reader” will have psychological descriptors and habits which will likely not match the majority. Please keep this in mind while reading. Thank you!
To become so obsessed with a psychotic mass murdering clown magician like Hisoka, you’d need to be a special breed. Harley Quinn style if you will, but incorporating an even more massively unhealthy level of adoration and blindness.
Since Hisoka is a whimsical sociopath and amoral character, it’d likely attract someone that is… surprisingly selfless and mildly antisocial. His attitude and way of life likely trigger feelings of envy and jealousy at first within you. Why does he get to be so carefree? Why can’t you just slaughter your entire place of work when they piss you off?
So starts the morbid curiosity. Who is Hisoka Morow?
You’d see him in passing a time or two, maybe you’d even witness him kill or target an individual in battle. You’d stay undetected by Hisoka. This requires great skill in nen-ability and you’d likely be a pro-Hunter or something along those lines. You’d need to be incredibly powerful and a good strategist to have Hisoka as a darling. Specializing in stealth/tracking/spying would all do you well in aiding to observe stalk Hisoka.
He’d take a life so easily it’d stun you. His lack of remorse after even more. How does he feel so little? Why is he so easily aroused in battle? Why can’t you look away? Rationality will need to take a backseat in this budding crush you have. It won’t bloom into what you call “love” until he does something that speaks to you personally.
It’ll be entirely mundane too.
He’ll do one thing that will capture your heart. Maybe it’s when he spares Gon and Killua. He’d claim it’s because they’ll make worthy opponents later. You’ll see it as something else.
Once your feelings for him are established, it’s impossible to find fault with him anymore. Everything he does is perfect, utterly adorable and fascinating, and he’s a silly kitten who can do no wrong in your mind. His clawed finger nails are proof that the most harm he can do is claw up some curtains.
Hisoka is constantly on the move, traveling often and usually very light. He does have a few spaces he uses more like storage than actual living quarters. This where you spend time when you aren’t observing him. Going through his things, envisioning a future with him, imagining him tied to the bed.
You’ll be delusional but no so much you believe you can have him without force. Wild cats are hard to tame after all, and a superiority complex over Hisoka will begin to develop the longer you watch and learn about him. You’ll likely have dug up all the skeletons of his past. You believe you know him best, who else understands him so well but you?
This dig includes any lovers or even potential lovers. They’re in the way and need to be gotten rid of. You can’t let them ruin him now can you?
Finding all of his past lovers isn’t easy, especially without alerting him to anything suspicious at first. Thankfully, despite his track record of murders, his love life is stale at best. A few hookups when he was younger, no long term relationships, but he does have a notable relationship with a female from the Phantom Troupe.
Machi, a beautiful woman which Hisoka blatantly flirts with. More than the usual too, it holds a level of sexual tension which invokes unparalleled rage inside you. It’s ironically not directed at Machi, but she’ll bear the brunt of it anyway.
Hisoka is given both a sick and delightful surprise when Machi’s severed head is delivered to his hotel suite in a box. A love poem hand written by you in it, but it’s a warning for him too.
It’s a grotesque combination, but it’ll most certainly catch his attention. A bouquet might’ve sufficed too, but Hisoka will now know of your existence. He doesn’t think this is a love note though, he thinks this is revenge. He’ll be angry too, because whether Machi was ever a real love rival or not, she was someone he wanted to fight. His designated prey was caught and killed before he even had a true chance of tasting victory over them. That must mean you are an even better treat.
It’ll drive you wild seeing how desperate he becomes to track you down and find you. He comes close a few times too, but always just out of reach. His real niche laying in combat unlike you. It feels romantic in a sense, and it’ll drive the fantasy further that you two are meant to be together. He’s meant to be yours isn’t he? As you begin leaving even more obvious hints of your presence in his life, he’ll realize it’s not revenge you’re seeking.
He’ll figure out he’s got a perverted little stalker when he finds your cute lace panties left for him to find. No need to mention you’d touched yourself on his bed to the thought of him and came in them. It’ll be fairly obvious from the fact that he hasn’t been to this particular hideout in a while and it’s spotless. No dust. Everything perfect, but he didn’t clean before he left this one. Then he’ll see on the unmade bed, a clear sign of a woman having intruded and marked the area. Strands of your hair. Your scent. Your clothes.
Still, he won’t catch you. He’ll bait you too, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve been caught only to realize he just knows he’s always being watched now. He doesn’t know your exact location or if you actually are there. “I liked your gift… hmm, but it would’ve been a nicer surprise to see you in them~” he’s flirtation and goading. It’ll be difficult to resist him, when he’s seemingly speaking straight at you. You know the moment you reveal yourself though, he’s not going to drop to his knees and offer himself to you. It’ll be a battle on sight. Though the thought of him getting aroused because of fighting you… makes you itch to throw caution to the wind.
Instead you clear any and all traces of your presence for several long months, until Hisoka grows avidly annoyed and then slowly disinterested, moving on to other opponents and amusements. Being in your line of work means a very much endless cash flow, the resources available to keep up with your favorite pass time of just watching him in all his glory. He’s perfection, even as his face twists up into a manic monstrous expression as he slaughters his victims, you see nothing but an angel. Never mind the screams and begging for mercy, isn’t he so cute when he plays a magic trick for them? It’s easy to become overwhelmed with jealously occasionally, but you’re good at being patient and reminding yourself that person isn’t special, Hisoka is just entertaining himself.
It’s also hard to remind yourself you aren’t special either. While it takes a certain sense of superiority over a darling to develop yandere tendencies, you’re also affected by an inferiority complex about the world. This means you’re isolated in how you interact with the world, no close friends or relatives, no real hobbies outside of what assists you with your work, hardly any social interactions that aren’t required. This is what makes Hisoka so fascinating, and it’s also what starts your real downward spiral to depravity.
What makes you truly snap and lose control to your yandere tendencies , is nothing other than Hisoka himself.
He’s coming down from a recent high of a fight in Heaven’s Arena, only showing up due to being challenged as a floor master, but the fight had been surprisingly up to his standards. His opponent was both entertaining and thrilling until their end. He was in a good mood, a very good one, so when a spectator approached him batting their lashes and hinting at spending the night in his suite… he said yes.
That was strike one.
Strike two was the audacity of the piece of shit throwing themself at him. You carefully followed, silent and untraceable as sexual tension began to rise in the elevator all three of you shared. Only they thought it was just them.
Strike three. Wasn’t your presence at least somewhat obvious? It’s highly delusional on your end to become enraged at other’s ignorance to your presence despite your mastery of hiding it. It’s what allowed you to watch Hisoka so long after all, but illogical as it is, you were still pissed. Furious at both of them but now mostly at Hisoka. Who was leaning over them, letting his height and teeth aching sugary tone seduce this common stray off the street like they were his personal favorite. They weren’t. He didn’t have any real favorites. Only toys that were disposable and this was no different but it didn’t matter because he was yours. And it seemed he needed to learn this.
Even Hisoka can be taken off guard, especially with his pants feeling too tight and the piece of ass before him being all to eager to please.
He’s unconscious when you finally reveal yourself. The deafening scream echoing throughout the elevator as it finally reached Hisoka’s designated floor and opening. Unfortunately for the poor soul screaming who was just looking to get laid, you weren’t in the mood to grant them anything less than a brutal death.
“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut shut up!” Your fist broke bone with each strike, until your victim lay unrecognizable and very dead. You’d released your nen, and every nen user in this entire Arena now knows you’re here, all because anger got the best of you.
It didn’t matter, because even with the corpse at your feet, you were still furious.
You took both Hisoka and the body out of the elevator and swiftly worked to clean up the damage and fluids. You didn’t need the Arena fining you again. Hisoka was out cold, but he’s quick to recover so you work on getting him into his suite and bed, working his wrists into nen blocking steel cuffs. He’s spread like a star fish, each limb hooked to the fancy bed posts. You muttered anxiously as you dug around your bag, hands shaking as you pulled out a small leather pouch about the size of your palm.
It might seem overkill, but chaining and drugging ensured your personal safety once he woke up.
Never mind the fact that you could just leave after disposing of the body. Your heart fluttering and cheeks flushing as you looked upon his unconscious body on the bed prevented you from acting within reason. No, you wanted him to see you, if for no other reason than to establish where he was.
Beneath you.
Hiding your presence and that of the corpse, you quickly left the building with Hisoka’s key card to properly rid yourself of the responsibility and allow yourself to fully focus on Hisoka.
Returning was quick and painless, this time not revealing your presence until back in Hisoka’s suite.
His face was angelic while he slept, though his head would likely ache from the powerful blow you landed to the back to get him in this state. You contented yourself with just watching him for the next hour or so, until with no warning, he woke up. It was odd how he didn’t even twitch. Just suddenly aware of his situation and surroundings, alertness to his features immediately. You wished it was a sleepier and cuter wake up, but you still found it adorable how on guard he was instantly.
Those lovely gold orbs landed on you and narrowed, despite his sly smile. He might appear relaxed and languid for someone chained up and hardly able to move their body due to relaxants circulating their system, but you knew he was furious. Hisoka, as much as he loves playing with others, hates being played with. You stayed silent, letting him observe and calculate, allowing him time to run through his options and every plausible scenario.
“Well… good morning Ms. Stalker.” His airy words sent visible shivers down your spine, his eyes and focus, for the first time entirely on you. He also seemed to note your reaction, his smile sharp and predatory. “Oh? You like the nickname? Bad girl… don’t you know not to play with magic?” He tested his restraints, with surprisingly more strength than you thought he’d have after injecting him. He’d require another dose then. You were quick to work on that, his eyes tracking your movements and realizing your objective.
“Not even going to let me play?” He didn’t resist as you sterilized his arm before injecting him with a fourth dose. Three should’ve been enough to tranquilize an elephant but Hisoka wasn’t a normal human. He flexed his hands and twisted his wrists, copying the same with his feet and ankles. The cuffs were made specifically for him. You’d kindly taken off his shoes and socks, but his shirt and pants remained on. You felt your throat constrict and thighs clench at the thought of him naked. You’d already seen it a multitude of times but he hadn’t known you did. Watching him shower and change so shamelessly.
“You look ready to eat me. Is that what this is dear? You got jealous when I brought another up here?” His nickname for you threw you off, your eyes widening and meeting his teasing gaze. He looked sinfully beautiful like this, at your mercy yet still so him. You licked your lips, feeling mildly nervous now that you were about to speak to him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up though.
“Yes,” he paused when you finally answered, “I…I was very jealous.” Your hands gripped the bottom of your shirt, the material bunching as the earlier annoyance was brought back to your attention. You grimaced, “This wasn’t really how I intended for you to meet me for the first.”
“Oh? But we’re here nonetheless aren’t we?” His tone was a bit snarky, but he was correct. What did you do now? Make every little fantasy you had come true?
“How about this, yes? You take these off and I give you a painless death. Isn’t that nice of me?” His words have your eyes snapping up to his face, his words not matching his sweet expression. He wanted to kill you? Not even fight? You frowned, a low boiling of rage in the pit of your stomach.
“You think you hold any power here?” You sneered back at him, walking to look down at his sorry figure chained up and at your mercy. He was being a brat. You backhanded him swiftly, his head cracking to the side at the force and momentum. His pale skin already reddening as a small trail of blood tricked down his chin. His gaze was on fire as he turned back to look up at you. Defiant and piercing, but his smile never wavered. “How about this, Hisoka, you stay right where you are, and maybe I’ll be nice and let you finish tonight.” His eyes widened, a small moment of shock taking over his features but he quickly schooled them again.
You began undressing swift, throwing your clothes to the floor until you were only in your underwear. Your chest heaved, nipples tightening under the cool air of the room and Hisoka’s gaze. You couldn’t place his expression exactly, a combination of desire and rage most likely. You climbed atop the bed and thus him, knees on either side of his hips as you made light work of his shirt. Shredding the garment and tossing it to join your clothes. His pants were next, now both of you almost completely naked and staring at one another.
“Is this your idea of a good time Ms. Stalker? Tying up innocent magicians and having your way with them?” You laugh at this sentence, because it was silly to think too much about. He was still being light and teasing but he was exuding a little bit of bloodlust.
“No Hisoka, my idea of a good time is just you in general.” You placed a cold hand on his abdomen, sliding it up gently until it reached his throat. “Watching you, hearing you, smelling you…” your eyes trailed up his naked torso to his lips for a moment, before connecting your gazes. “This is your fault really. I didn’t ask to be haunted by you, I didn’t ask to feel like this, I didn’t ask to want someone so badly I’d gladly watch this word burn if it meant you’d be entirely mine.” It was a deeply disturbing confession. You sat down, right over his erection where you could grind your pussy against him and elicit a beautiful hiss of pleasure and pain from him. “I can’t, oh, I can’t decide if I want to own you or be you really,” you panted, beginning a slow rock of your hips as your arousal soared. The object of all your affection beneath you, looking so much like a cat being bathed it brought a small smile to your lips. This was all turning you on, and he seemed to also be enjoying himself somewhat.
“I very much would love to humor you dear, but I really do recommend you remove these.” He dropped his facade, his expression turning dark as he realized how unlikely you were to release him. You were clearly deranged, maybe more so than himself. He tugged against his chains, the rattling echoing around the room but it only served to make you amused. Despite his words, his hips had begun to lightly buck up into you now. Both of your underwear soaked through, a combination of your slick and his precum. His voice and tone sent your hormones flying to cloud nine, your face starting to look intoxicated as you gazed down at him with obsession.
“You say you want them off but do you really want this to end? I could just… leave you here. All night. Maybe I’ll come back just to make sure you, haah, stay hard?” You were panting and a little sweaty, breasts heaving as you became more intoxicated by the moment and him. You looked spelled bound and he looked downright menacing. Of course, because out of all things, Hisoka likes control. His flirtatious attitude can not be mistaken as submissive, but here you were forcing him into such a role. Threatening him with a punishment if he didn’t behave like a dog.
It made him want to bite you like one.
“Pretty Ms. Stalker could’ve told me she wanted her little pussy filled, no need to go to such lengths-tss!” He flinched when you finally fished his cock free, your soft cool hand a striking contrast to his pulsing hot shaft.
“You’re so pretty Hisoka.” You were lost to your own fantasies, not really registering his words anymore. He realized it quickly as you focused all your attention on his leaking cock, impressed by the size and girth. It would hurt, taking him, but the thought of stretching around him was driving you wild.
But first… you dropped your chest low and opened your mouth. Your tongue had him groaning low, the sound of his teeth grinding together had you even wetter than before. You licked from base to tip, slow and sensual. He tasted sweet. Not salty or bitter like you imagined and it had you quickly and messily taking him into your mouth.
For all you were, you weren’t experienced. This was your first blowjob but you prayed not your last, because as you choked and gagged to take more him, he was losing it himself. What you lacked in experience and skill, you were making up for in enthusiasm and pure need to please. Observing his reactions as you let his tip finally sink into your throat even as tears pricked your eyes and fell down your cheeks. It burned and ached, but you pushed the pain down as you watched him. He finally gave in and kept your gaze as you worked to make him cum, sucking and taking him as deep into your throat as you could. You were making an absolute mess of his cock and balls, slobbering all over him. It was erotic and truly enticing, and the only indication he was close was the twitch of his lip and his hips trying to make you take even more of him.
You tried to get all of him in your throat when he came, but you failed by an inch or so. You stayed still as his hot cum coated your throat and mouth, moaning at his musky sweet flavor and making sure to suck and milk him for any leftover until he was choking on his own moans for you.
You made sure to clean him up nicely, licking and making sure even his balls weren’t missed. When you finally pulled back to look at him, you nearly passed out at the sight.
He was slightly sweaty, breathing a little heavier with half lidded eyes glaring and grinning viciously at you. His cheeks flushed, the left slightly bruised from your earlier hit. His lips red and bitten, a bit of blood still leftover on his chin. He looked gorgeous. You couldn’t be blamed when you were stumbling off the bed to grab your camera from your bag. No need to turn the flash off since he knows of your presence now.
He scowls as you snap his picture, looking beautiful and ruined just for you.
“I- sorry- I just need this okay?” You set the camera down, eager to return and continue touching him and exploring.
He snorted, looking at you in disbelief with mild amusement. “Is that so? You needed to photograph me naked?”
“What? No. I have lots of those already. I wanted one of your face after I made you cum.” He seemed flabbergasted at your answer, but you couldn’t help your eager hands from cupping his cheeks and leaned down over his face. “You’re just so pretty I can’t help it.” You told him honestly, his expression relaxing into something neutral as he observes you. Fine by you, as you begin kissing his face, hair, cheek you hit and then his neck. You lick and suck over his pulse, enjoying the masculine groan as you mark him up and lick his sweat. You’re trembling as you wiggle down to his chest, playing with his nipples. Swirling your tongue elicits the best response, his back arching lightly and proving your theory that his nipples are sensitive.
His hardening cock beneath you all the proof you need, your own nipples pebbled and aching as you drag your chest against his while you work.
When he bucks up again underneath you, you finally release his nipple with a pop. Looking at his tossed and adorably fucked appearance, you shiver. His hair messy from throwing his head into the pillows. You licked your lips, finally clumsily trying to get out of your underwear but failing because of your position. With a huff of annoyance you just tore them off, finally completely naked and slightly embarrassed by his stare.
It hardly mattered if he liked what he saw, you weren’t so far gone that you thought you looked anything like his earlier willing catch which you’d crushed- “Pretty thing aren’t you?” You paused your internal rambling when he spoke. His voice low and husky, not as flirtatious and teasing like his usual tone. You’d never heard him use this voice before, you eyes meeting his with curiosity.
He chuckled, but his bloodlust from earlier was gone like it had never happened, “What’s wrong? You were so eager just a moment ago, don’t tell me you’re shy now? Is Ms. Stalker a virgin?”
His goading voice was back, covering up his earlier tone like it’d been a mistake. Though you were surprised he hit the nail on the head. You were a virgin. Not because you lacked people willing to fuck you, but because you lacked interpersonal skills to have a normal relationship. Intimacy terrified you before you’d fallen for Hisoka, but after it was all you seemed to want. To touch him, feel him, make him feel good. You wanted him desperately.
“I won’t be much longer.” You looked away and solidified your resolve as you moved to hover above him again, your dripping cunt begging to be filled. You balanced using one hand on his hip, the other gripping his once more hard cock and lining him up with your entrance. You let his tip brush through your sensitive folds as you shakily released a breath. You took one small peak at his face, his eyes watching you like how a hawk might watch it’s prey.
You let his tip breach your entrance, no surprise that it stung. You didn’t prep yourself at all, and though you were wet enough, you wished you’d thought to carry a little lube in case this scenario ever occurred. It didn’t matter though because even if it hurt you were being connected to him and it made your chest swell with pride and happiness.
“Fuck, you’re tight- ah” he threw his head back and grit his teeth again, your gummy walls simultaneously sucking him in and pushing him out. It had him close already embarrassingly enough. The pleasure and pain mind numbing.
You’d only taken half of him but it was leaving you breathless, “m’trying” you could only gasp as you struggled to push more of him in, tears pricking your eyes once more as the pure stretch of his cock inside you was turning your brain off. It hurt but it felt good too.
“If you take these off, I’ll happily finish the job you’ve started dear~” Despite his tone, his face looked just as aroused and strained as your own. It was tempting, but deep down you really didn’t trust him. It came from knowing him that you didn’t trust him in the least. You shook your head, denying his prompting. His laugh is dark, even as his hips surge up to force another few inches into you. You cry out, bracing against his chest as you fall forward a bit. He does it again, sinking into you until finally you feel your hips meet and his tip kiss deeply into your cervix. You lay panting against his chest for a moment as his cock pulses inside you, your body pathetically struggling to adjust to his size.
“Take them off while I’m being nice.” He’s not asking, but still you shake your head and push yourself up, moaning as he sinks even deeper. Your hips take on an unsteady rhythm, testing the depth that feels the best but his hips throw you off each time you find the perfect angle. The stretch and friction drive you wild, your mind numbing to the pain and pleasure as you feel the coil inside you close to snapping.
“Feels good~” your moaning loudly, face fucked out and teary eyes locking with Hisoka’s. His eyes are burning, face scrunched up in frustration because your pace isn’t quite fast enough, nor is he hitting as deep as he’d like. His chains clink against the steel posts, you’re too distracted though to pay attention as you desperately work your hips towards your finish, bouncing on his dick. “M’gonna cum Hisoka” your deliriously close, the coil right about to snap-
When his chains do first.
“Huh,” You only get a split second to panic before he’s on you, breaking each steel bedpost and freeing his movement up again. His cuffs are still secured for a second but it’s meaningless a moment later when they shatter. His nen stored up enough to cancel their purpose of restraining him despite how much you’d paid that specialist who guaranteed no one could get out of them. Never mind that he should still be drugged up enough to he struggling to move at all.
You find your positions switched, your back hitting the mattress as you gaze up into his eyes now.
It’s silent for a moment, save your own pounding heart and icy fear now filling your veins. He just… looks at you. His face blank, eyes calculating but just when you decide it’s best to fight than let him slaughter you like this, he laughs.
Not like normal. This is borderline hysterical laughter, his hand wrapping around his torso as he howls with laughter.
Before you can activate your ability, he’s got a hand wrapped around your throat and squeezing just enough to warn you. “Did you think this would all just work out how you wanted dear?” You were scared, that was true, but as he nudged your thighs apart and dragged his still hard cock through your folds teasingly, you realized you were also horrifically aroused too.
All of your fantasies had you on top, because you didn’t trust him not to kill you if he was, if he even wanted to willingly touch you at all.
“Look at you~ poor thing,” he’s mockingly sweet as he leans over you, long tongue coming out to lick your tears off your cheek. As he leaned back, you truly didn’t expect his hand to leave your neck and slap you across the face. The sting follows after his hit lands, but it shocks you silly more than it actually hurts. You don’t have too long to think before he’s shoving himself back in, and your too far gone to stop the orgasm that slams into you. “Wait!” It too late even as you cry out, hands desperately grabbing on to something to anchor you. Him.
He hisses, face vicious as he stares down at you, “Did you really just cum?” His voice somewhat incredulous as he feels you twitch and writhe beneath him. He stayed still, letting you shakily come down from your high before he’s rocking into you.
Then he’s fucking you just how he likes. Hands gripping your hips in a death grip as he slams himself into your overstimulated cunt over and over. He leaves you mewling and fucked stupid beneath him as he mercilessly thrusts into you like a rag doll. You can’t keep up. Can hardly speak besides useless babbling, only making him laugh and sarcastically mock you for it.
“What’s wrong dear? Isn’t this what you wanted? Am I just so deep inside you~?” Cooing as you nod and cry harder.
It’s when he kisses you that you cum again. He tastes like bubblegum and you’re gone, creaming his cock as his tongue tangled with you own messily. It all feels too good, your arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his waist, while you just struggle to take it. His tip pounding away in a spot that has you gasping and sobbing below him, because despite everything, this is the most pleasure you’d ever felt. It was disorienting and left you mildly numb, his sharp claws trailing down your chest softly to settle his thumb over your clit and press until you came again.
This one was slightly painful, your muscles constricting so hard Hisoka finally fell over the edge himself. His moans so pretty, soft and deep as his hips still move despite him emptying himself inside you.
He recovers first, staring down at the pretty thing in his arms struggling to catch her breath.
You’d given quite the headache for a while now, but tonight really took everything up a notch. You certainly weren’t halfhearted, something of which he respected. You weren’t a weak thing either, his thrusts harsh enough to break a normal human’s hips, but you just looked fucked stupid. It was cruel of him to be so rough, but then again you’d really brought it on yourself hadn’t you?
You’d brought all this onto yourself, and whatever happened in the future too.
Because now he was a little hooked as well, and you were just too cute and interesting to leave alone now that he’s tasted you. Had you first.
He easily reached over to snag your camera, switching it on and snapping a picture of you still shaking and twitching with his cock still buried inside you and beginning to grow hard again.
Realization dawned on you, but even as you tried to move and get away from him, he had your wrist locked above your head to stop that nonsense.
“Nu-uh dear, I’m not finished. Not even a little.” His lustful gaze and sadistic smirk had you looking like a frightened animal, but it only served to rile him up further.
It’s after all, your fault for loving someone like him, right?
It’s important to note that once Hisoka becomes interested, he treasures it. But something he treasures one day can become trash the next… until you.
Hisoka is surprisingly a willing darling. Don’t think this reverses any roles, he’s not submissive to you in the slightest. He acts like a total brat but he’s dominant through and through, don’t expect to ride him unless he’s got full control to just fuck up into you.
He’s needier than you’d expect too. Not just with sex, that’s constant, but also in just having your company. He likes when you talk to him, interact with him, don’t expect to go back into observing from the sidelines. He’s all to happy to give you front row seats.
He’s just as jealous as you are, but he’ll purposely play into your jealousy by flirting with other women to rile you up. He just likes how you look enraged, finds it cute. If you do the same, he’ll make that individual sit tied to a chair while he fucks you in front of them until you can’t even apologize anymore. Then he’ll kill them. He welcomes the same treatment. You get a bit shy acting it out.
Bonnie and Clyde duo!
He’s not a yandere, though he gets jealous, he’s just a psychopath in general. He’ll still be Hisoka no matter what. While you can interact normally with others when necessary, your fixation on him will remain an outlier. Hisoka is just trash to everyone, and surprisingly decent to you. By your low standards.
He likes ice-cream and ice-cream dates. He’s an ice-cream date man.
Illumi doesn’t understand your relationship but respects your devotion. Wonders why more women can’t be like you. Hisoka likes that his friend is envious of what he has.
Enjoy your darling, he’s frustrating and difficult but all yours now!
Dividers by @benkeibear
#tw: dark content#tw: dubcon#hisoka morow#Hunter x Hunter#hisoka HxH#hisoka x reader#hisoka x fem! reader#hisoka morow smut#darling hisoka#hisoka smut#yandere#yandere reader#fem! Yandere#yandere x darling#yandere HxH#dividers by benkeibear
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Synopsis: In a place where good and evil, angels and demons are divided. The angel Joshua feels enchanted and attracted by the beauty outside of Paradise, governed by you, who is a rebellious angel who lives in worldly certainties.
Joshua! Celestial Angel X Reader! Shadow Angel
Word Count: 5.5k
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), penetrative sex, wings, dark eyes, flying, partly innocent Joshua, sinners, disrespecting the heavenly order bc of love.
In this peculiar realm where opposing forces clashed, the angelic and demonic entities found themselves in a perpetual dance of contradiction. — Day and night, good and bad, right or wrong— You, a being demon with grand black wings and your body draped in silky obsidian fabric, had transitioned from the celestial paradise to the earthly abode. It was a place adorned with greenery, a paradise for humans, yet deemed a hell by the angelic standards.
Your eyes, once accustomed to the pristine skies, now adjusted to the vibrant chaos of this earthly haven. The scent of flowers, the rustle of leaves, and the myriad of colors all around became your new reality.
One day, as you wandered through the arborized paradise, you witnessed an angel sent by the gods, radiant in celestial grace, descend from the heavens. Their mission: to carry out acts of benevolence and rescue the flawed human race from the pitfalls of their own humanity.
Once, you were an angel too, soaring through the celestial expanse with wings as radiant as the morning sun. The rules of paradise, however, felt like constraints on your very essence. The mandate to help the helpless, devoid of personal desires and sensations, left you yearning for something more.
In the heavenly realm, your duties were clear. You mended broken spirits, offered solace to the suffering, and shielded humanity from unseen perils. Yet, as you carried out these acts of benevolence, a part of you longed for the tangible experiences that the gods had chosen to withhold.
In your descent from the celestial heights, the air crackled with the energy of rebellion. The moment your feet touched the earthly ground, you felt the soft embrace of grass beneath you, a stark departure from the ethereal firmament you once called home. The celestial light dimmed as you exchanged the radiant wings for the cloak of shadows, and you marveled at the newfound weight of your choices.
The earthly realm welcomed you with open arms, and you relished the sensations that had been denied to you for so long. The warmth of the sun, the cool breeze, and the fragrant whispers of nature surrounded you, each moment a symphony of earthly delights. As you walked through the arborized paradise, your senses were heightened, and the mundane took on a profound significance.
The angels above, oblivious to your departure, continued their celestial duties. you discovered a different kind of duty – a duty to experience, to explore, and to understand the complexities of existence, discovering uncharted territories of free will.
The wide green grass of the earthly realm spread beneath the azure sky, a canvas of vibrant colors. In this paradisiacal haven, you observed with both amusement and curiosity as angels, once bound by celestial rules, now embraced the newfound freedom, their wings cloaked in shades of darkness.
Among them was Joshua, the paragon of loyalty to the gods. His wings, a radiant expanse of white, glowed in stark contrast to the gathering shadows. As he moved gracefully through the earthly realm, his every action seemed guided by divine purpose.
One day, on the expansive grassy plains, you watched Joshua intervene with gentle precision, preventing a little boy from stumbling. The child, oblivious to the celestial forces at play, continued on his way, and Joshua stood there, a guardian of earthly innocence.
A subtle shiver coursed down Joshua's spine, and cold breezes swept over him as you approached. He turned, his white wings fluttering like a beacon of celestial purity, and met your gaze with a mixture of apprehension and recognition.
"If you're not here to help, I suggest you leave," Joshua declared, his voice unwavering but laced with a hint of tension.
You scoffed, the echoes of rebellion resounding in your words, "This place doesn't belong to you or your gods above. The rules of the celestial paradise have no power here. We're free to embrace the richness of earthly existence, to revel in the balance between light and shadow."
Joshua's eyes reflected the conflict within him, torn between the loyalty to divine orders and the allure of the newfound freedom. "You may have turned away from the gods, but I won't abandon my duty. The balance must be maintained, even if it means standing against those who have forsaken it."
"You defy the gods and abandon your celestial duties for what? The whims of the earthly realm?" he questioned, his wings twitching uncomfortably.
"Is it not clear?" you replied, your own wings casting shadows over the verdant ground. "To experience, to feel, to understand the very essence of existence that was denied to us above. The gods may have favored you, Joshua, but they also imprisoned you in a golden cage."
A moment of tense silence hung in the air before Joshua spoke again, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and defiance. "You're playing with forces you cannot comprehend. The celestial order must be maintained, even if it means sacrificing personal desires."
The smirk on your face persisted as you nodded negatively, a silent defiance against the old rules that once dictated your every move. With a fluid motion, your wings unfurled, and you took to the air, flying in joyous circles above the lush forest. The freedom, the unrestricted movement, it was a sensation you had longed for, and now, you reveled in it.
Below, Joshua watched your aerial dance, his eyes betraying a longing for the unbridled freedom he had not yet embraced. The desire to soar with you, to feel the wind beneath his own transformed wings, was palpable.
In a playful moment, you pretended to fall, letting your wings come to a sudden stop. The earth rushed up to meet you, but just before impact, you felt gentle arms enveloping you.
As you both landed gracefully, he looked into your eyes, a mix of concern and curiosity reflecting in his gaze. "Why, after all this rebellion, do you persist in being alone?" Joshua asked, his voice carrying a soft undertone.
"I'm not alone. I am free." You tell him, and he lowers his head. "I wish you could feel this freedom too, Joshua," you said, your voice carrying a touch of genuine longing.
With those words, your wings began to work, creating a gust of wind that gently pushed against Joshua. As the currents separated you from his grasp, his once-protective arms now fell to his sides, and he watched as you ascended into the sky.
The verdant canopy of the forest below shrank as you soared higher, leaving Joshua behind. The cool air rushed past you, and the earthly realm unfolded beneath your wings. You glanced back, seeing Joshua below, a silhouette against the backdrop of the vibrant landscape.
His white wings, still pristine and shining, spoke of the loyalty he clung to. Yet, a flicker of yearning shimmered in his eyes, a desire to taste the forbidden freedom that now embraced you.
Days passed without a glimpse of Joshua, and an unusual presence lingered in the dark forest. The other demons tilted their heads in confusion as Joshua, with his glowing bright wings, ventured into the shadowy realm that was more accustomed to beings of darker nature. His desperate search for you seemed to defy the very essence of what angels were meant to be.
Meanwhile, from afar, you sensed Joshua's presence. His purity and celestial aura wafted through the air like an irresistible fragrance. The contrast of his untainted soul against the backdrop of the dark forest made his essence stand out. A voice, silky and enticing, echoed in his ear, "Searching for me?"
Joshua glanced around, his bright wings flickering anxiously in the dim light. The voice beckoned him, growing louder with each passing moment. He followed, seemingly uncoordinated, the sound pulling him deeper into the heart of the forest.
The voice, now clear and seductive, guided Joshua to a serene spot by a river, a cascade providing a soothing background melody. The dense forest closed in, creating a natural barrier around the secluded haven. Joshua hesitated, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through his veins.
As he stood at the edge of the river, your voice ceased its alluring call. Joshua felt a shiver run down his spine as he turned to face the source of the voice. There, emerging from the river, was your figure, adorned in wet, glistening attire, your wings draped sensuously around your naked body.
Joshua's breath caught in his throat as he beheld your luscious presence, his glowing wings flickering nervously. A distinct gulp resonated in the stillness of the forest as he struggled to compose himself. Your question hung in the air, breaking the silence.
"Why are you here, Joshua?" you asked, your voice a velvet whisper that danced on the edge of the cascading waterfall. The shadows cast by the dense foliage played upon your figure, enhancing the mystery that surrounded you.
Joshua paused, his voice filled with both uncertainty and a deep yearning. "I came looking for answers," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "The celestial realms are in chaos, and I can't ignore the call pulling me back. But..." He hesitated, as if struggling to find the right words. "There's something about this, about being here with you, that I can't quite understand."
You tilted your head, your dark eyes locked onto Joshua's, as a mysterious air enveloped the forest. His chin quivered under the intensity of your gaze, and the vulnerability in his eyes revealed a tumultuous inner struggle.
With a graceful movement, you unfurled your wings, their shadowy expanse revealing a body that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The ethereal sight was enough to make Joshua turn away, covering his eyes as if he couldn't bear to witness such an intimate revelation. The celestial rules, the mysteries of the earthly realm, and the lack of answers all converged, leaving him in a state of overwhelming confusion.
You couldn't resist a sly smirk as you traced a hand along his back, your fingers leaving a cold touch that made his wings tremble.
"What answers are you seeking, Joshua?" you asked, your voice a gentle yet probing whisper that hung in the air. He remained turned away, as if the weight of the question and the complexity of the situation made it difficult for him to face you.
Joshua stammered, his words tumbling out in uncertainty. "I-I don't know exactly," he admitted, his voice wavering. "I've been feeling strange, and everything seems... hot."
A sly smirk played on your lips as you inquired further, "And why do you think you feel this way, Joshua?"
His hesitation lingered in the air before he finally confessed, "It's... it's when I think about you."
A soft hum escaped your lips, the sound carrying a mysterious melody. As Joshua turned around, attempting to fix his gaze on your eyes, he found it impossible. Your body, bathed in the moonlight, seemed like a forbidden fruit tempting him with its alluring glow.
He struggled to articulate his thoughts, caught in a web of conflicting emotions. "I... I can't understand it. It's like an allure, a pull that I can't resist. When I see you, when I think about you, everything becomes... different."
Your eyes held a knowing glint as you observed him, the dichotomy of his celestial purity and the earthly desires that now stirred within him unfolded in the charged atmosphere.
"And why are you seeking me?" you asked, your voice a seductive whisper that seemed to echo through the quiet forest.
"I don't know," he admitted, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and desire. "There's something about you, something I can't ignore. It's like you hold the answers to questions I didn't even know I had."
"You're risking more than you realize by searching for these answers," you warned, your voice carrying a note of caution. The forest seemed to hold its breath, as if echoing the weight of the choices that hung in the air.
Joshua nodded, a mixture of determination and desperation in his eyes. "I know," he admitted, his voice filled with a heavy acknowledgment of the stakes involved. "But I can't continue to listen to this voice in my head, this constant tug. I need to figure out what it means, why it leads me to you."
You stepped closer, the distance between you and Joshua narrowing as the air around you became charged with an undeniable energy. For the first time, Joshua didn't flinch; instead, he closed his eyes, feeling your breath against his skin. The atmosphere held a tantalizing mix of anticipation and uncertainty.
Your fingers gently entwined with his, and you guided his hands to trace a path along your neck, down to your breasts brushing your nipples and grabbing them tight, then your waist, and further to your hips. The warmth of your body seemed to seep into his very being, causing a subtle tremor to run through him.
Joshua's breaths came out defeated, without hesitation, you smashed your lips onto his, the kiss born from a fusion of celestial rebellion and earthly desire. Joshua, lost in the tumult of conflicting emotions, didn't even know what he was doing or why his body was growing hotter with each passing moment.
His tongue brushed gently against yours, in that stolen moment, he consumed your alluring lips with a hunger that seemed to emanate from the depths of his being. The forest, draped in shadows and moonlight, bore witness to the intimate exchange between an angel and a demon.
Joshua's hands explored the contours of your heated body, the mystery of your touch captivating him. As his fingers traced over your form, he sought to understand the allure that made your skin feel so intoxicatingly good beneath his touch.
With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled you closer, melding your bodies together in a desperate embrace. The collision of celestial and earthly energies sent shivers through both of you. A moan escaped your lips, a sound that reverberated through the charged air, resonating with the very essence of desire.
Joshua, startled by the unfamiliar sensations that surged within him, sharply inhaled, his breath mingling with yours. His cock twitches inside of his vest and he bites his lips, in confusion and arousal, as the boundaries between light and shadow blurred in the intensity of the moment. "It hurts."
"I'll help you, pretty angel."
As Joshua's vest found its way to the ground, pooling around his feet, you gently laid him on the grass. The vibrant flowers seemed to come alive, surrounding his figure with a lively burst of colors as if nature itself responded to his angelic presence.
He watched you with curious eyes, uncertainty and desire playing out in the depths of his gaze. The teachings of his god echoed in his mind, warning him against revealing his naked body to anyone. Yet, the dark allure in your eyes held a power he couldn't resist.
Your gaze lingered on his exposed form, and a subtle, wicked smile played on your lips. He felt a thrill as you licked your lips, looking at him with a hunger that he never saw before. His hard pink cock looks veiny, tearing precum, while his eyes keep locked on your movements, waiting for your next move curiously.
With parted lips, you let your breath brush his dick, making him quiver. Joshua didn't have an idea about what you were going to do, he just wanted to relieve that thing that kept him hard for so long.
As you press your tongue on his leaking slit, Joshua moans involuntary, you looked so sinful dragging his cock inside of your mouth, cheeks full of his pretty dick. He looks hypnotized, by the way you bob your head on his hard length, your eyes locked with him— that powerful gaze you hold making him blush hard.
You sucked his length hard, and the angel hisses, trying to control his hips as you dive his dick inside of your throat. His cock twitched with pleasure, and you could feel his orgasm approaching, with eyes shut, he moaned continuously, his abdomen trembling trying to hold that sensation that burned his body.
Joshua was the most angelical person below the gods that you ever knew. He walked around with those filled wings, his well structured body hidden by his white vest, and those heavenly eyes— But now he looked so perverse under your touch, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth, his hand holding the measure of your hair, while his cock was buried inside of your mouth.
"Cum inside of my mouth." You whimper, your tongue licking his hard veins.
"C-cum? Inside? C-can I?" He stuttered unsure, he was hearing right? He can actually cum inside of your pretty lips? How did he miss this opportunity for so long?
Beads of cum escape him before you could even answer. The sticky cum, filling your mouth and as a result, leaking by the sides of your mouth. He cries, cries, and cries proud moans of your name, the first pleasure experience running from his toes to his last strand of hair.
His dick stands proudly hard even after he just cummed, and you raise your eyebrow surprised. Joshua still with the remaining pleasure running through his body, raised to kiss you, his tongue fighting yours as he tasted himself on your lips, later, licking the little residue of his cum that lazed on the corner of your mouth.
After the kiss, a newfound determination glinted in Joshua's eyes. Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you had given him, he chewed his lip nervously, unsure of how to proceed. The angelic teachings he had followed never prepared him for sex, or to pleasure someone.
"What's on your mind, Joshua?" you inquired, your voice a sultry whisper that mingled with the rustling leaves.
"I want to pleasure you like you just did for me, but I don't know how," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice echoing the complexities of his celestial nature.
You reached out, your fingers tracing a gentle path along his cheek.
He took a deep breath, his angelic features reflecting a blend of determination and curiosity. "Guide me, show me what you like," he whispered.
"I want you to do whatever you want''
Joshua, moved by a mixture of desire and uncertainty, took a step back to take a proper look at you. His eyes roamed over your figure, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze like a caress against your skin, laying your back on the ground, that feels soft since your wings made a nest for you to lay.
He spread your legs, his soft fingers finding their way to your sopping cunt, since he saw you naked, it was like he couldn't take his eyes from your pussy. The digits explore your wet folds, and he moans at the feeling of your arousal getting his fingers drenched.
Taking a look at his fingers, glistening with your slick, he shoves his own fingers inside of his mouth, tasting your arousal. You moan at his action, and he closes his eyes, the taste making his cock twitch.
As he opens his eyes, he guides his fingers again to your cunt, when his fingers rub at your clit, you whimper his name.
Joshua did this accidentally, but that beautiful sound you made, instincts Joshua to do the same movement against your bud, again, again and again. He was loving the view of your body squirming because of him.
The little hole under your clit caught his attention, so he slid his two fingers in, making your back arch. "Yes! Yes! Oh fuck."
Your hands grab his forearm, guiding him to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy, the wet sound echoing on Joshua's mind, making his cock ache 'cause he feels so hard. Your cunt leaks, and his fingers are buried inside of your spamming pussy, the delicate fingers making you drool, your eyes rolling back.
You squirmed under angel skillful touch, a sensation you hadn't anticipated after witnessing so much under the heavens. His fingers worked with a certain expertise, guided by your reactions. Amidst the pleasure that danced through the night, you found words caught between gasps and moans.
"You're far from being an angel," you admitted, the words escaping your lips in a breathy whisper.
As you watched Joshua, a flicker of something unusual caught your attention – a brief moment when his bright irises seemed to turn black, only to return to their angelic glow. His celestial face tilted with curiosity as your reaction unfolded before him. The subtle transformation left you momentarily unsettled.
His innocent gaze met yours, and he asked, "Did I do something wrong?" The innocence in his voice contrasted sharply with the skilled touch that pressed against the right spot, causing you to arch your back involuntarily.
You were far from composed, pleasure coursing through your veins, and you struggled to form a coherent response. Instead, a moan escaped your lips, and you found yourself unable to answer his question properly.
"Y-your eyes," you stuttered, the unexpected flicker of darkness lingering in your mind as a knot tightened in your stomach.
"What about my eyes?" he asked, attempting to talk to you while your pussy throbbed around his fingers, as your gasps and moans painted a different language. "Tell me," Joshua urged, his angelic face tilting with genuine concern. But your response was lost inside of your pornographic moans.
The words you intended to speak were lost as a powerful wave of pleasure engulfed you. Your body spasmed uncontrollably, and Joshua's fingers, now slick with your arousal, continued to fuck you. A low hum of satisfaction escaped him as he witnessed the intensity of your release.
The world around you faded into white for a moment as the orgasm overtook your senses, leaving you in a state of blissful surrender. Your lips parted, and your throat couldn't pour any song, only the wet sinful sounds that your pussy made, as Joshua continued non stop.
hold his forearm still, as oversensitivity lingered in the aftermath of pleasure. You took a deep breath, trying to regain composure, as Joshua's fingers withdrew, leaving you in the wake of the intense sensations.
"What was it about my eyes?"
"Your eyes... did they just... change?" The question hung in the air as Joshua's eyes flickered again, that momentary darkness replacing the celestial glow.
Joshua's eyes flickered again, as if in response to the conversation. "I don't know what you mean,"
"It's like, for a moment, they turn black, and then they're bright again,"
Joshua's eyes flickered once more, a subtle change that you keenly observed. "Did they do it again just now?" he asked, searching your face for any sign of confirmation.
The revelation about Joshua's changing eyes left you in a state of perplexity. Conflicting emotions swirled within you—fear mingled with an inexplicable arousal. As you nodded in acknowledgment, Joshua caught a glimpse of the mixture of emotions in your eyes.
Joshua, perceptive to the nuances of your emotions, caught a glimpse of the little scared eyes that betrayed the conflict within you.
"Are you scared?" Joshua asked, his voice gentle, a reflection of the concern in his eyes.
It wasn't because you were a demon in the midst of mundane certainties in the world, that you didn't feel afraid, you were like any other human being in relation to your emotions, just like angels. So you hesitated before nodding again, admitting to the mix of emotions that surged within you.
Your black dark wings created contrast with your eyes that shone with uncertainty, while the angel and you were naked in the middle of the enchanted forest, which welcomed your bodies.
Joshua, sensing your vulnerability, reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was tender, a contrast to the intensity of the revelations that had unfolded in the enchanted forest.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and compassion. The glow of his celestial nature seemed to soften, as if trying to offer reassurance in the face of the unknown.
You leaned into his touch, the conflicting emotions within you slowly settling under the warmth of his hands. The fear and arousal still lingered, creating a complex emotional landscape that neither of you fully understood.
"I don't know what's happening," Joshua admitted, a hint of confusion in his voice. The mysterious flicker in his eyes remained an enigma.
"It's not just fear," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's... something else too."
As Joshua held you close, his hands gently caressing your face, he asked with a soft intensity, "What is it, then? What else are you feeling?" his voice a soft murmur that blended with the rustle of leaves in the enchanted forest. The shadows played on his features as he awaited your response, the moonlight casting a gentle glow over the scene.
"I want to feel you so bad," you confessed, the honesty hanging in the air like a secret unveiled.
Joshua, meeting your gaze, didn't respond immediately. The flicker of darkness in his eyes seemed to intensify for a moment, as if in response to the shared desire. Then, with a quiet sincerity, he admitted, "I want that too."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a hungry kiss. As the kiss deepened, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensations of lips meeting in a passionate union. Joshua's touch, once angelically pure, now held a fervor that almost burned your skin.
As Joshua aligned with your core, a moan escaped your lips, swallowed by the passionate kiss that bound you both. The slick, intimate contact left you unable to focus on the kiss, your breath hitching with each movement.
Joshua, feeling the wetness and heat, hissed at the intensity of the sensation. His celestial mind, guided by an instinct he didn't fully understand, urged him into uncharted territory.
In the heat of the moment, you found yourself begging, your voice breathless and filled with desire. "Please," you whispered, the word escaping in a desperate plea, "put it inside."
Joshua, caught in the whirlwind of sensations and your urgent request, felt his breath struggle. His angelic features reflected the internal struggle between celestial restraint and the willing to fuck you.
"I... I can't resist," he admitted, his voice strained. "I..." he hesitated, the conflict evident in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."
Teasingly, you whispered into Joshua's ear, "You're such a naughty angel, a sinner in this earth realm." Your words, laden with desire, seemed to stir something within him. His eyes flickered on and off, on and off, almost flashing, a subtle dance between the purity of an angel, and his alter ego.
"You like being a little sinner, don't you?" you continued, your voice a seductive murmur. "Indulging in desires you never knew you had."
"I can't..." he began, the struggle evident in his voice. "I shouldn't..."
His eyes flickered on and off, a rapid dance of light and darkness. You could sense the internal battle waging within him, the struggle between celestial obedience and the enticing allure of earthly desires.
As you continued to playfully provoke him, he closed his eyes, a deep breath escaping him. The conflict etched on his face reflected the dichotomy of an angel losing himself to the irresistible pull of the shadows.
"You're testing me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and desire.
"You want this, don't you?" you continued, cooing. "You want to fuck this pussy, and let go all of those fucking heavenly rules and just feel this pussy tight around your cock."
His eyes flickered on and off in response.
"I never thought I'd see an angel like you so... tempted," you continued, your voice a seductive whisper.
You wrap a hand around his cock, the tips leaking precum, as you begin to stroke his dick, you caress the pink head with your thumb, adding to the sensory overload that seemed to consume him.
"I'm just teasing you," you whispered, a sultry tone lingering in the air.
The playfulness in your voice was met with a warning from Joshua, his tone dropping into a more serious register, furrowing his brows and the clenching of his jaw.
"I don't know if you should be doing that," he warned, his voice carrying a sense of caution.
The sultry air seemed to vibrate with anticipation as you moaned, your voice carrying a hint of desire. You dared to ask Joshua, "So, what are you going to do?"
The flickering of his eyes intensified, a silent acknowledgment of the internal chaos. He struggled to find words, so Joshua took charge, seizing your hands and pinning them above your head, making your tits bounce. The sudden shift in dominance sent a jolt of electricity through your core.
He groaned between his teeth, a low, guttural sound that betrayed the depth of his internal struggle, his head lowers a bit, taking a mouthful part of your tit, his tongue playing with your nipple, taking the lil' but between his teeth, making you throw your head back.
Heaven and Hell collided when Joshua pushed his dick slowly inside of your wet pussy, was electrifying, stretching you out in a way that left you breathless. Joshua, meeting your gaze, moaned deliciously at the new and overwhelming feelings.
Your wet walls hug his dick, and his body trembles when his pelvis hits yours, signaling that his dick is already all inside of you. Joshua's hips moved in a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through your body. His toned form towered over you, encouraging him to continue, your own body responded with a delicious rigidity to every stroke.
Joshua hides his face in the crook of your neck when you start to clench and unclench around his dick, his size making your pussy soak him.
As Joshua released your hands, you wasted no time in wrapping them around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, and he moaned in response to the added sensation.
You squeak when Joshua takes his length off, then slams hard inside, making you pathetically spasm, his name leaves your mouth in a scream.
"Oh?" His eyes widened with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction.
In the midst of your arching body and the heightened pleasure, he asked, "What is that?"
Joshua, after the surprising discovery, withdrew and then sheathed himself inside you again. The slow, deliberate movements created a rhythm that built steadily, each penetration sending waves of pleasure through your body as your abused g'spot it's hit every thrust.
He fucks your brains out with that angelical, innocent stupid face, while his big cock enters your gushing pussy so hard.
You cunt traps him so tight that his hips stutter, he moans suffered in your ear, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull while you shamelessly cry, your vision turns blank, and your body tenses so hard that you're afraid to break a bone.
Your pussy gushes cum like a waterfall. And Joshua continued to fuck you through your orgasm. In a final, primal act, Joshua growled, his hips slamming with unrelenting force until he reached the peak of his own ecstasy.
As he filled you up with his cum, his pearly white wings unfolded, embracing both of you in an ethereal warmth amidst the winds of the enchanted forest, hugging tightly and creating a shield that seemed to protect your entwined bodies.
His panting breaths whispered in your ear, and his arms, placed on each side of your head with his elbows anchored on the ground, provided a protective cradle.
As your vision gradually returned, the world around you took shape in the moonlit clearing. However, the celestial and earthly union had left its mark. When you looked up, expecting to see the pearly white wings of Joshua, you were met with a startling transformation.
The once pearly white wings of Joshua, symbols of celestial purity, had transformed into black and dark ones. The ethereal feathers now matched the shadows that draped his being, a visual manifestation of the departure from the celestial realm.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you placed a hand on Joshua's neck, attempting to gently coax his face from the crook of your neck. When he opened his eyes, the once bright orbs were now dark, devouring you with a gaze that held a different energy. As you looked at him in shock, a realization dawned upon you — he was now just like you.
As Joshua noticed the intensity of your gaze, he asked, "What's wrong?" The concern in his voice was genuine, his darkened eyes reflecting a new awareness of the change that had occurred. In response to his question, he took a moment to glance at himself, as if seeing the transformation for the first time.
The realization seemed to wash over him, and his features shifted in a subtle acknowledgment of the altered reality. Joshua, with a newfound dark aura, looked at you with a mischievous, shit-eating grin.
Joshua was now a fallen angel.
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Why are we obsessed with Good Omens?
Why are we obsessed with Good Omens? And, more specifically,why are we so obsessed with Good Omens season 2? And why is this such an intense obsession? I've been obsessed with other TV series in the past: Sherlock, Doctor Who and Gilmore Girls are just a few examples. But my obsession with Good Omens is stronger. I loved Good Omens, the book. I was delighted when not only did Good Omens season 1 not disappoint compared to the book but was excellent in its own right. But after watching season 2 I was a different person. And I know I'm not alone in this.
Why is this? Why is this show affecting us so deeply? To the point that sometimes it feels destabilising?
Like I said above, I loved the book and I loved season 1. I loved the complexity of the plot, the many layers of the story, the humour of course, all the characters and in the TV show the way these characters were portrayed, especially of course our two main heroes. I loved the way the story unapologetically approached religion and teased it and played with it and made fun of parts of it, especially the bureaucratic/hierarchic part without being disrespectful to believers (I think and hope, but since I'm not a believer myself I'm happy to be corrected). I loved how much was in it and the many lenses we could read the story.
Now I'll be honest. When I started watching season 2 I... loved it. Of course I did. The way you love things you know. The way you love things that make you feel safe. The way a toddler loves mum and dad and the way we love going for a coffee with our lifelong friends. Something risk-free, something we know, something we don't need to worry about. Something beautiful but... Shall I say it? Something beautiful, truly beautiful and safe and cosy but not something extremely exciting. The plot is Crowley and Aziraphale have to hide Gabriel who, for some reason, has left heaven. OK. Nice. We get to know Crowley and Aziraphale better, we have more glimpses of their history. Truly, truly beautiful. But safe. A lovely rom com. We fall in love with 1941 all over again. Beautifully emotional. But where's the danger? Is the world really not ending this time round? It was difficult to take the threats from heaven and hell very seriously when we saw our heroes visiting the coffee shop, driving to Edinburgh and miracling rain to make two humans fall in love.
I was enjoying it, I was... yeah. Loving it, sure. We were all happily watching it but, let's face it, we all knew how it was going to end, didn't we?
And that there. That's why we are so obsessed with Good Omens. Well, that's definitely why I'm so obsessed with Good Omens. At first I thought it was just the lack of closure. But it's not. It's because after alluring you in with cosy safe tartan blankets and cocoa winged mugs it smites you mercilessly. It's because it subverts all the expectations it created in the first place. This is what is so destabilising. We've all read and watched lovely, moving, heart breaking love stories before. We've all lost it a bit over maddening cliffhangers. All the beautiful stories in our lives. But the ending of Good Omens season 2? It does change you as a person. The impact of changing the narrative so suddenly and forcefully. We were watching a comedy and now we are witnessing the unfolding of a tragedy. That's what did it, I think. That's why it stays with us and occupies a good part of our thoughts while we go about our daily activities. That's also what makes many of us want to write, draw, analyse and create. As obsessed as I was with other series and books before, it was only after Good Omens season 2 that I felt I needed to write about it and find a community where I could talk about and share my thoughts and read other people's thoughts. I know many of you are writers or artists but I also know many of us aren't and it's only thanks to Good Omens that we overcome our fears and self doubts and put our thoughts out there. Thanks to Neil Gaiman. Thanks to Neil Gaiman promising one thing and delivering another. Thanks to Neil Gaiman deceiving us. I can't wait to see how it all pans out and we do know everything will be OK. But in the meantime I'm so happy to have had my expectations taken and thrown in the bin.
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The Joker And The Queen
In which Harry is a florist, has a crush on the baker next door and dreads his Birthday.
Trope: Florist!H
Wc: 3.2k
A/n: This has been in my drafts since Feb, so why not..
Main Masterlist
Feb 1, a year earlier
The chime of the bell alerted Harry of a visitor, prompting him to spare a glance and shift his focus from the Lavender Bouquet he’s preparing. Its odor was enough to wake ‘Tom’, the street’s lazy orange cat and stand at the front of the shop inspecting the source of the smell, delicately detecting it with his nose.
The foreign tourist moved around admiring all the displayed plants from orchids to sunflowers, Jasmines and cactus, gypsophilia in all their mighty colors standing tall and proud itching for a bride to hold them. Small pots of Rubber fig, Snake plant and Succulent lay side by side near the sun in an order almost fit for a theater play, he placed them this way on purpose to give them love from the yellow shiny star and the buyers who are only ever interested in flowers.
He finished wrapping up the Bouquet with a pink bow tie and admired his work for a minute before snapping a picture of it with his polaroid camera and hanging it on the wall next to the other beauties.
The tourist got distracted with ‘Tom’ and their child who threw a rampage upon seeing the floof ball, eventually they both left as the cat strolled toward Harry rubbing up against his leg, sniffing the oh wonderful smell of Lavender he caught earlier.
“It’s okay maybe they’ve had a bad experience with cats.” He told the cute pet who seemed to not care as he yawned and stretched his paws before sliding in an empty pot to resume his nap.
Harry puckered his lips feeling like an idiot for conversing with a cat. Who spends their birthday selling flowers and comforting an animal. Is that miserable? It has to be the dream life in someone’s world.
What are Birthdays for anyway? He thought as he swept the floor from the fallen leaves and petals.
He ages everyday and every hour, with the marks of adulthood lingering around every corner, whether it be the loneliness he experiences, or watching little kids pick flowers for each other as he gets hit by a whiff of nostalgia.
Every waking day is a reminder that he’s not the little boy from Holmes Chapel anymore, he can’t for the love of god remember his hometown. It resides somewhere in his mind deep down, perhaps he can recall its plants, that would be much easier.
He never realized how far and lost he was in the adult world until he remembered his old life, mundane hobbies he maintained that were his entire focus. Now he wouldn’t even recall doing them.
His memory drifts away to his 10th birthday, his mom organized a small party in their apartment, where he only invited 3 friends (more like his only friends). That day is his favorite memory, the taste of the chocolate vanilla cake on his tongue as he goofed and danced around, then chased his friends with the Spiderman toy his mom got him.
Funny how things change he thought, he can go out now and buy himself that very same toy but he won’t get his 10th birthday back. He envies people who wait excitedly for their birthday and plan the entire day feeling joyous about saying goodbye to another year of their life.
He isn’t pessimistic really, not at all, he just finds it hard sometimes to delight in the same things as ordinary people.
Tom began snoring in the pot and Harry rubbed his head before watering the thirsty plants. The sun today is stretching along the coast with bluebirds roaming around town, announcing a wake-up call to all living things to witness this glorious day.
At least he loves the fact that his Birthday is a gift from nature, there’s this breeze that feels like summer and spring had an affair, it penetrates his nostrils combined with the fresh odor of flowers that he picks himself every other week. A gentle embrace of the sun is always present and he can’t help but stand at the front of his shop and bask his face in it.
For a moment or two the weather held his hand and showed him places he’d never been to before, quietly taking in the sound of by passers lightly smiling from sonder.
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled him away from his daydream. He opened his eyes and balanced himself on the door having not been prepared for such a sight.
She stood in front of him wearing denim salopettes matched with a floral tee with her hair braided and tied using a pink bow (just like the one he uses for his flowers)
His body went numb for a few seconds saving in her broad smile at the front of his brain (he’ll replay the scene later on)
Her dimple got wider as she looked into his forest eyes struck by the sun, a tiny furrow appeared near his eyebrows but got overshadowed by his chocolate mop of curls.
“H—hi” he uttered shyly like a schoolboy swiftly moving the curls from his face, he can’t be daydreaming because his crush is quite literally in front of him.
“May I come in?” she asked with another one of her smiles that he melts for, he immediately moved inviting her inside his green haven, as he almost stumbled on his face due to a pot having been distracted with gazing at her.
He grew to know her as the lovely baker with the shop facing him, he even developed a sweet tooth because of his tendencies to drop by every other day for something she bakes.
“So how’s your day so far?” she questioned as she scratched Tom’s chin.
“Hmm pretty average I guess.” He placed his hands in his pockets awkwardly as he suddenly forgot how to act normally.
“Oh no, an average day for the birthday boy?” She exclaimed with a gasp, turning her attention to Harry’s face that turned tomato red.
His girl crush remembering his birthday was the last thing he expected. Usually she’d come in for fresh bouquets she purchases for her bakery. It was either Sunflowers, Hyacinth or Tulips.
Harry had a thing for solitude. Don’t get him wrong, selling flowers to people is somehow satisfying, but considering he is a stranger to the locals in this small Swiss town, he isn’t much of a talker. He likes to have his daily cup of tea in the morning, take a walk in the field located near his house, visit his friend’s place and then there’s her.
He never even had a sweet tooth, but after his unexpected craving for muffin one night (later on he’ll realize that it was just homesickness) , he found himself putting on his shoes and roaming the cobble streets of the town for shops that are still open.
Even though her shop was closed for customers, she opened the door when she saw a lost face outside, with a warm aura and not a good choice of words.
“Do you perhaps have a leftover muffin?” His words caused her crooked teeth appear with a smile that made him forget about any pastry in the world.
Ever since then he’d come up with any excuse to pass by and have a muffin to go, a cupcake, maybe coffee or even that delicious baguette that he can’t have breakfast without. It doesn't matter what he picks up as long as he sees her.
Harry gets pulled back to the present with her smile that somehow has the ability to help him to think straight. He still hasn’t processed the fact that she knows his birthday date.
“I—uh how do you know it’s my birthday?”. An obvious blush creeps up his cheeks as he bites his bottom lip and hides his hands in his pockets to conceal the excited fidgeting.
“Remember when you forgot your wallet at my shop? Your ID slipped out and I swear I wasn’t snooping, it really did. My eyes landed on the date.” She explained with caution adamant to clarify that she isn’t a creep.
One thing about her is that she loves making eye contact, and he could barely survive her smile, let alone her coffee irises.
“I hope I didn’t overstep-“
“No! not at all. Thank you for remembering.” Only if he knew that she’s been counting down the days and marking the calendar to reach February.
The tension could be cut with her baking knife, and the best thing he could think of doing is scrambling to anxiously rummage the drawers in the shop, for the flower crown he made her.
It was crafted using dried tulips, jasmines, poppies and carnations with a hint of pink gypsophilia. It was anything but easy to make, but she doesn’t have to know that.
He showed it to her with an eager dimpled smile, and when her words got stuck in her throat, his hand shakily placed it on her head then fixed the loose strands of her messy hair.
“I thought I was the one supposed to get you a gift.” Her eyes shifted to the ground with an echoing laughter as his eyes raked her crowned head with admiration.
“I’ve been meaning to give it to you anyways.” He scratched his neck awkwardly , and stretched his beige cardigan up to his palms, feeling the country air swift inside his store and caress both of their bodies.
Even though no one is looking, not even the by passers who are enamored with the flowers, they are very much exposed to the orange cat who is judging their ability to communicate and maybe finally kiss?
“Thank you H, really.” Her whisper was barely heard but he was busy repeating his nickname she created in his head.
H.
He never really had a nickname, everyone called him Harry, just Harry. She always made the most mundane things appear as the most beautiful. Who would’ve thought his initial would sound so good?
“I made you something.. a huge cinnamon roll plate, just for you.” She poked his dimple loving how excited the news made him.
“With honey?!”
“Yes! The way you like it.” Tom was now standing between them, taking too much interest in the stubborn pair of idiots.
The last time someone had thought of him, and decided to give him something on his birthday as small as a cupcake was on his 18th birthday, when his mom cried and promised to always make him cupcakes on his day, even if he was leaving to another country.
The butterflies in his stomach, fluttered up to his heart, passing by his lungs and knocking the air out of them as he stared at the crowned girl in front of him with hearts popping out of his eyes.
Idiots in love, Tom thinks.
She finally broke the silence and leaned forward to his face pressing a long warm kiss to his cheeks. “Pass by at 11 for your gift. Happy Birthday H.”
Feb 1, a year later
He’s laying on his stomach, his arms spread with soft puffs of air leaving his slightly parted raspberry lips. His skin is bare of clothing, it has always been his preference even if it gets cold.
The white sheets reek of gardenia detergent that is outpowered by the various number of bouquets distributed around the room and on the balcony. The curtains are swiftly dancing with the wind allowing the yellow star to sneak in and cascade a shade along his soft skin and lighten his chestnut curls.
Tom is lazily stretching on the carpet as he will continue to do so all day, but in a different room after he terrorizes the house in search for extra food and love.
The girl enters the bedroom with a tray in her hands, her steps are calculated to avoid waking her lover as her silk robe hugs her naked body. She’s been up since dawn to prepare the dough, it’s a secret recipe passed by through generations. Simply let the poor dough rest. But it wasn’t just that, she also had to pour her love in it, mend it well with her fingers and drizzle the honey on top that she harvested herself.
She leaves the tray aside knowing that Tom will not approach it as he recognizes the sweet scent and is aware that it is not for him, which he expresses by turning his rear side to his parents.
She climbs on their shared bed as softly as she can, admiring her sleepy boy who must be dreaming about cinnamon rolls. The blue duvet is slowly peeled off his body as she gently starts leaving kisses on his back. Although it’s usually him who does that, this time she’s one step forward ahead of him with honey drizzled on her lips that leaves its marks with every kiss.
He's a heavy sleeper but his nervous system is accustomed to her touch and kisses , so it is no wonder when he wakes up a few moments after her lips meet his body as the honey sticks.
“Happy Birthday honey.” She whispers against his neck, causing a huge grin to immediately form on his face. He doesn’t care if he’s barely awake or is trying to register his surroundings. She’s here, next to him and she’s wishing him a happy birthday.
“It’s the first of February?” He asks as he shifts on his back and pulls her body against him. He had a habit of not looking at the calendar or remembering the days unless it was her birthday which he will instinctually know, or if she has an important event.
Another small secret is that his disinterest in calendars or the names the of days only began after he met her as it wouldn’t matter what day it is, since he got to see her every day. It intensified when she became his lover.
Was it Monday? No maybe Wednesday? Why should he care anyway? It will begin with her and end with her. The love will radiate for days , months even years. So whether it be the 20th century or the 21st it won’t matter, she’s right next to him in this moment. Time has become irrelevant.
“Yes Birthday boy, I made you something..” Her face hovered over his, as his eyes adoringly shifted to the honey coating her lips. He pulled her in closer till their atoms touched as he began kissing over neck and face.
The honey trick. It was his really, but he didn’t mind her doing it. As an avid fan of honey, he had lots of jars in his house and much to his surprise, she liked bees and would occasionally participate in harvesting, but oh of course she would!
She’s his other half.
He began using honey to get her to be close to him at all times, by smearing it on his lips or fingers then touching her. It didn’t make her mad, she was covered in his love. What’s not to like?
When she asked him why he does it he simply said: “I want you to be sticking to me and honey is my ally.”
Tom interrupted their moment of love by expressing his disgust with meowing. According to him, the two idiots would have always found their way to each other, but that’s cat intel that he can’t share with the readers.
“So what do you want to do today.” She finally managed to speak after he took his time with the morning kisses along with ‘sticking’ himself to her lips.
“Spend it with you.” He replied without hesitation.
“You spend everyday with me.”
“Then spend it with you outdoors.” He shrugged before swiping his finger above her lip, catching leftover honey and licking it.
“Well the shop is closed today, maybe we could have a picnic in the field and I—“She stopped midsentence upon the feeling of something poking her thighs.
“H.. did you just get a boner.” She raised her eyebrows and delicately moved her fingers along his hips to rile him up.
“It’s a love boner!” He defends himself the best he can.
“I see.. maybe we should do something about it then..” His eyes gleam like a puppy waiting for his treat. He immediately surrenders his body to her, just like he always does while she pulls the duvet above them and they both sink in their love bubble.
The shower is on.
She’s in there washing what their love caused, along with the sticky honey all over her body. Harry is still in bed, breathing in and out of his lungs trying not to get suffocated from his love for her.
He loves being under the water with her and lathering honey soap all over each other, which is why he has to do this quickly.
His feet pad across the floor as he looks in his drawer for the mini leather notebook. He can hear the water hitting the tiles and her humming in the background which motivates him to get this done.
He opens the notebook and looks at where he left off and opens a new page instead as he picks up his favorite writing pen.
‘February 1st 2023
Did I ever mention that she was the one to start it that night? Our relationship. I was too busy admiring and she was too busy planning, another reason why we fit like Lego pieces. I don’t make confessions that often, maybe to her every now and then but I must admit that I like my birthday now. It didn’t faze me before, it meant nothing but now it makes me look up to all the upcoming birthdays I get to spend with her. I don’t know how the poets do it… being able to describe love and all that stuff. If they were actually in love, then they’d know that it leaves you speechless with nothing to say or do. I worry that I do not say enough to her, but she then assures me that silence is our thing in her own way. That night when she kissed me, then invited me to her shop at night, helped me realize that I want her and need her. No, she did not ask me on a date, I did but if not for her simple gesture I would’ve been miserable for eternity. Once you get a taste of what’s sweet, you’ll never abandon it. That’s how I feel about her. Now, maybe the story of how everything progressed is for another time or even how we adopted ungrateful Tom, but for now she’s waiting.”
He places the notebook back in the drawer and throws the pen in there before his feet guide him to the wide bathroom, where her voice could be heard humming. He wondered if the bluebirds visit them because of her.
He fetches towels for them from the closet not forgetting to take a bite from the cinnamon roll that’s neglected on the tray.
He pops his head inside and calls her with her designated nickname.
“Honeyyyyy…?”
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Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Hawks, fem!reader, viking themes, seer!Mirko, blood
Summary: the Earl sought counsel from the seer, seeking guidance after Shoto's proposition to send him and Touya on a mission to the north. Concerned about the rumors surrounding the mission, you resolved to extract information directly from Shoto
Word count: circa 6.5k
A/N: if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥
MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS CHAPTER • NEXT CHAPTER
ACT III - SEEKING ANSWERS
The cold winds of late autumn swept through the rugged hills as earl Endeavor rode toward the dwelling of the renowned seer, Mirko. His thoughts were consumed by the intriguing proposition his youngest son, Shoto, had presented regarding a land rich in goods. The idea of sending his eldest son, Touya, to oversee this promising territory crossed the earl's mind, a strategic move that could secure his settlement's prosperity.
Upon reaching Mirko's abode, the atmosphere seemed to change. The air grew thick with an otherworldly aura, and the eerie silence made the settlement's seer even more intimidating. Mirko was a young woman with a fearsome reputation, her presence alone sending shivers down the spines of those who sought her guidance. Mirko was not beautiful in the conventional sense; her appearance held an unsettling allure. Long, wild locks framed her face, and her eyes, intense and piercing, seemed to hold secrets of both past and future. Tribal markings adorned her skin, marking her as a conduit to the spiritual realm.
Earl Endeavor, a man hardened by battles and strategic decisions, felt a twinge of uncertainty as he approached the seer.
Mirko's dwelling, draped in dark fabrics and adorned with symbols, exuded an aura of mysticism. She welcomed him with a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "My lord," she spoke, her voice a haunting melody, "what brings you to seek the guidance of the unseen?"
Endeavor hesitated momentarily before speaking. "I come seeking counsel, Mirko. My youngest son has spoken of a land rich in goods. I contemplate sending my eldest, Dabi, to oversee it. What do you foresee in the tapestry of fate?"
Mirko, seated in the midst of her mystical domain, gestured for Endeavor to sit.
Endeavor unfolded his plan, explaining the potential prosperity and influence this land could bring. "I intend to send Dabi to ensure our dominance over this territory. What do your visions reveal?"
The air thickened with an unspoken power, and her haunting hums echoed through the room. The earl observed, a sense of unease settling over him as he witnessed the seer's transformation.
Her eyes closed, Mirko began to sway rhythmically, her body guided by an unseen force. The haunting melody of her hums intensified, creating an otherworldly atmosphere within the sacred space.
Endeavor found himself being on the precipice of something beyond his understanding.
Her voice carried a spectral melody, and the room seemed to pulse with an unseen heartbeat. Mirko's eyes, still closed, painted visions of impending doom with her words.
"In darkness veiled, the land awaits,
Echoes of sorrow, at destiny's gates.
A wolf, fierce, prowls in the night,
A dance with death, a sinister delight."
The seer's hands moved gracefully through the air, as if conducting an unseen symphony of fate. Her words painted vivid images of a land consumed by shadows and the imminent clash between two primal forces.
"An eagle, majestic and bold,
Descends from heights, its destiny foretold.
A battle fierce, 'neath the moonlit gleam,
In shadows cast, where spirits teem."
The eagle and wolf, symbols of opposing forces, danced in the tapestry of Mirko's vision. The room echoed with the weight of her words, each rhyme a forewarning etched in the annals of fate.
"Blood on feathers, and darkness entwined,
A struggle unfolds, destinies aligned.
In the land cursed, where choices are made,
The echo of battle, in shadows will fade."
"What does it mean?!" The earl growled loudly. "Tell me, now!"
As Mirko's body moved, a voice emerged from her lips, yet it seemed detached, as if another entity spoke through her. The words, laden with an eerie resonance, foretold a grim fate awaiting those who ventured into the land Shoto had spoken of. "The path you tread is bathed in blood, earl Endeavor. Death dances upon the horizon, and shadows darker than the night itself await those who dare to grasp the threads of destiny."
Endeavor felt a chill coursing through him. Mirko's words seemed like a macabre prophecy, a dire warning wrapped in a melody that resonated with the spirits of the unseen.
"Blood will stain the soil, and death will be the echo that reverberates through the ages. The spirits speak of a land cursed by the choices of the living," Mirko continued, her voice carrying the weight of the ethereal.
Endeavor, despite his stoic exterior, couldn't shake the disquiet settling in his chest. Mirko, in her trance, spoke as if guided by forces beyond mortal comprehension. The grim portrait she painted clashed with the earl's visions of conquest and prosperity.
As Mirko's humming reached a haunting crescendo, she opened her eyes, the once vacant gaze now piercing through the fabric of fate. The trance lifted, leaving the seer standing before Endeavor, a conduit between the living and the unseen.
"The spirits have spoken, my lord. The path ahead is shrouded in darkness, and the choices you make will echo through the very essence of time," Mirko uttered, her words lingering in the air like an unspoken decree from the spirits themselves.
Endeavor leaned forward, his expression stern. "Speak plainly, Mirko."
Mirko's voice carried a weight beyond the present. "The flames may consume not only the intended but all who stand too close. Choices shape destinies," the woman replied mysteriously.
Endeavor emerged from Mirko's dimly lit hut, the weight of her prophecy hanging in the air like a shroud of uncertainty. The pale light of the moon bathed the settlement nearby in an eerie glow as the earl took a moment to collect his thoughts.
Silence enveloped him, broken only by the distant sounds of the night. Endeavor closed his eyes, reflecting on the words Mirko had spoken. Despite the foreboding visions, a resolute determination burned within him. He knew the risks, but the allure of wealth and power beckoned him forward.
Turning to Mirko, he offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you for your insights, Mirko. May the spirits guide us through the shadows." As a token of appreciation, Endeavor gently took Mirko's palm in his hands and pressed a grateful kiss upon it.
The seer's eyes, still veiled in the mystery of her visions, met his with a knowing gaze.
Mounting his horse, Endeavor set forth, determined to confront the future that awaited him.
The night held its breath as Endeavor rode back to the settlement, a lone figure against the canvas of the darkened landscape. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but the ember of ambition burned brightly within him, lighting the path toward the destiny he sought.
Dabi sat in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, his presence almost like a shadow against the flickering candlelight. The rhythmic sound of a whetstone against his sword filled the air, a comforting repetition that matched the beat of his troubled thoughts.
The raucous atmosphere of the tavern buzzed around him, but the glances thrown his way were not ones of admiration or desire. The courtesans, usually attentive to potential patrons, seemed to cast him disgusted looks. Even though he was the heir to the earldom, the one who would sit on the throne after his father's eventual passing, they all were disgusted by him. His status brought him no favors in this realm of longing and fleeting connections.
Dabi's eyes occasionally flickered across the room, catching those disdainful glares. He couldn't deny the sharp pang in his chest — a mix of frustration and a longing for a connection he had been denied for so long. He had grown accustomed to rejection, so much so that he had stopped actively seeking companionship. Still, the yearning for the warmth and softness of a woman's touch lingered, a desire he had learned to bury deep within.
As he took a swig of ale, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the bitterness that had settled in his heart. Dabi continued to polish his sword, the repetitive motion a way to distract himself from the disapproving looks that haunted him. In the midst of the crowded tavern, he remained a solitary figure, surrounded by people but untouched by the warmth of human connection.
The loud thud echoed through the quiet walls of the Great Hall, jolting you awake from your shallow slumber. Concern etched across your face as you rushed out of the room you shared with Hilda, following the source of the commotion. The dimly lit corridor led you to Dabi's chamber, where you found him struggling to regain his balance, a victim of the ale's intoxicating effects.
"Easy there," you said, your voice soft but laced with genuine concern. "Need a hand?"
Dabi looked up at you, his turquoise eyes momentarily clouded with confusion before recognition set in. He grunted in agreement, accepting your offered help. Together, you steadied him, and he leaned against the wall for support. The flickering light from the fireplace cast a warm glow on both of you, creating an unexpected intimacy in that late-night encounter.
"Thanks," he mumbled, his usual aloofness momentarily giving way to a hint of vulnerability. The moment was fleeting, but it lingered in the air as you helped him back into his chamber.
You assisted Touya onto his bed. The warmth of the hearth seemed to soften the edges of the usually stern and enigmatic man. However, as you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently grasping your wrist. When you met his eyes, you were met with a vulnerability that seemed to pierce through his usual façade.
"Stay," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of desperation.
You hesitated. The rules that governed your roles in this Viking settlement were clear, and getting too close to someone of higher standing could invite trouble. Yet, the sadness in his eyes and the unspoken plea tugged at your empathy.
"I… I shouldn't," you started, but he tightened his grip ever so slightly.
"Please," he whispered, his tone a mixture of loneliness and longing.
In that moment, you found it difficult to resist. Against your better judgment, you stayed, settling on a bed beside him. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
Touya's eyes never left yours.
The room was shrouded in shadows, and the warmth of the fire seemed to cocoon you and Touya in a fragile bubble of shared vulnerability.
With a hesitant yet genuine smile, Touya broke the silence. "Tell me about your homeland," he requested, his eyes showing a glimmer of curiosity.
His request hung in the air like a delicate thread, and you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh before responding. "You want to hear about the place you tore me away from? Like a flower ripped out of the life-giving soil?" Your words held a weight, a mix of resentment and sorrow.
Touya met your gaze, his expression carrying the burden of understanding the pain he had caused. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low and sincere.
In the flickering glow of the fire, you began to weave a tale of your homeland. Your words painted a vivid picture of quaint cottages with thatched roofs, their walls weathered by the salty breeze that swept in from the sea. The narrow cobblestone streets echoed with the laughter of children playing and the rhythmic sounds of craftsmen honing their skills. "Near the shore, where the cliffs stood tall and proud, we built a small chapel—a haven of solace and prayer. Its stone walls echoed with hymns, and the air was filled with the scent of incense," you recounted, your voice carrying the nostalgia of a place left behind.
As you spoke, Touya's piercing eyes remained fixed on you, absorbing every detail of this distant world he never truly understood. The contrast between the harsh Viking settlements and the idyllic Christian village seemed stark.
"The coastline, painted in hues of blue and gray, witnessed the ebb and flow of tides. Fishing boats set sail at dawn, their sails billowing in the morning breeze, while the cliffs provided a vantage point for the villagers to gaze upon the vast horizon," you continued.
Touya's features softened as he envisioned the serene landscape you described, a world far removed from the tumultuous life he had known. Touya's eyes closed, a faint smile gracing his lips as he absorbed the essence of your words. "You must have been missing the place ever since," he pointed out, the words carrying a gentle understanding of the yearning that comes with reminiscing about a home left behind.
You nodded quietly, the flames of a fireplace reflecting in your eyes. "Indeed. The memories are like whispers of a distant melody, a reminder of a life that once was. I can almost feel the salt-laden wind against my face, hear the distant hymns in the chapel. Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, I close my eyes and pretend I'm back there, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home."
Touya's smile faded, replaced by a somber expression, as the echoes of your quiet sobbing reached his ears. He opened his eyes, and there he found you, tears streaming down your cheeks, your gaze fixated on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
His heart constricted with an unexpected ache. A flicker of empathy illuminated his usually guarded gaze.
"But it is all gone. All gone. You and your people took everything from me. And now I'm here, locked in a cage of a shadow of something once called life. Apparently, this was God's plan for me," your voice carried a weight of bitterness and sorrow.
His gaze softened as he watched you, the firelight casting shadows on your tear-streaked face. "Gods have their own way of weaving destinies, entangling lives in threads that stretch across time and space. Perhaps, just perhaps, there's a reason our paths crossed in this tumultuous journey."
You gave Touya a searching look, the flickering firelight dancing in your eyes, and asked, "What do you mean? Why would the God bring me here, to this… place of captivity?"
Touya looked at you with a glint of intensity in his eyes. "Our gods are different, you know. Freya, Odin, they're not like your Christian God. They're not confined to a single doctrine. They're free, just like the wind that sweeps through these icy lands. And I believe, with all my heart, that the Allfather sent me to your village for a reason, and that reason was you."
You couldn't help but snort at his words. "You're drunk, Touya. Those gods of yours aren't guiding anything. I'm here because of the whims of men, not gods."
Touya locked eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with unspoken emotions. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around you, drawing you closer until there was barely any space between you. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "You're beautiful."
His breath sent shivers down your spine, and before you could fully comprehend his words, his lips boldly found yours. Shock coursed through you at the unexpected kiss, your first taste of such intimacy. The heavy scent of alcohol lingered on his tongue, but amidst the surprise, you felt a strange warmth. You hesitated at first, unsure of how to respond, but the gravity of the moment pulled you in.
As the kiss continued, you found yourself brushing your lips against his, a hesitant exploration of uncharted territory. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, bearing witness to a connection that transcended the roles you were assigned in this harsh world.
The following day, Endeavor summoned Dabi to his side, his face stern and determined. The air in the room felt heavy with an unspoken gravity as Dabi approached his father. "Touya," Endeavor began, his voice cutting through the silence, "I have a mission for you."
Dabi's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and apprehension. "What kind of mission?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on Endeavor.
Endeavor's eyes bore into his son's, revealing a mix of authority and expectation. "You, Shoto, and a selected group of warriors, including Hawks, will be sent to the northern part of Sweden. There's a land there with potential, rich in resources. It's time to expand our influence, and you're crucial to this endeavor."
Dabi nodded, acknowledging the weight of the task ahead. The mention of Shoto and Hawks in the same mission stirred a sense of unease, but he kept his emotions in check. "Understood," he replied, his tone resolute.
Endeavor continued to lay out the details of the mission, his plans unfolding as a complex web of politics, power, and strategy.
Little did Dabi know that this journey would lead to unforeseen challenges, testing not only his strength as a warrior but also the bonds that held his family together.
Hilda approached you with a furrowed brow, a concerned expression etched across her features. The flickering light of the torches in the chamber cast shadows that danced upon the walls as she spoke. "Y/N, I need to talk to you," she said in a hushed tone.
You looked up, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, Hilda?" you asked, your eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
She took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "I think I just need a listening ear. Touya is going on another mission. But what worries me more is that Shoto, his younger brother, is being sent alongside him."
You furrowed your brows, recognizing the tension between the two brothers. "Isn't that a cause for concern? They don't exactly get along, do they?"
Hilda nodded solemnly. "No, they don't. The earl's decision to send them together is raising suspicions. It's a risky move, and I fear it might not bode well for the stability of the mission."
Concern etched across your face as you contemplated the potential consequences of such a decision. The dynamics between the two brothers were already strained, and sending them on a mission together seemed like a recipe for conflict. Hilda's worry mirrored your own, and the uncertainty of the future weighed heavily on both your minds.
You finished brushing your hair, the strands flowing smoothly through the comb. The flickering candlelight in your chamber created a soft ambiance, but your thoughts were far from the present moment. Hilda's words echoed in your mind, and the worry for Touya settled like a heavy stone in your chest.
With a heavy sigh, you turned to Hilda, who was quietly arranging some furs in a corner of the room. "Hilda," you began hesitantly, "is there really nothing we can do for Touya? I can't shake off this feeling of unease."
Hilda paused, her gaze meeting yours. The lines on her face spoke of years of experience and wisdom. "Y/N, sometimes the currents of fate are beyond our control. All we can do is navigate the waters as best we can. Right now, the best course is to stay vigilant and hope for the best."
You nodded, understanding the weight of her words. The unpredictable nature of the situation left you feeling powerless, and it frustrated you. "But what if something happens to him? What if Shoto…"
Hilda placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We can't predict the future, dear. All we can do is be prepared for whatever comes our way. Keep an eye on the situation, and if there's an opportunity to help, we'll take it. For now, focus on your tasks and be vigilant."
You sighed, acknowledging the wisdom in her advice.
Hilda observed you with a shrewd gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of concern. As you finished your nightly routine and settled onto the furs, she couldn't help but voice the question that lingered in her mind. "Y/N," the woman began, her voice gentle yet probing, "forgive me if I overstep, but your interactions with Touya have been minimal. Why this sudden concern for him?"
You hesitated for a moment, considering your words carefully. The truth was, your initial reservations about Dabi were not baseless, but something about Touya's vulnerability had stirred a different emotion within you. You looked at Hilda, deciding to share a part of your thoughts. "I may not like him, but I can't shake off the feeling that there's more to Touya than what meets the eye. The way he spoke about his past, about losing everything, it resonated with me. It's not pity, Hilda, but a sense of understanding, maybe empathy. And now, knowing he's going on this dangerous mission alongside Shoto, it's hard to ignore the worry."
Hilda's smirk widened as she spoke, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Oh, my dear, I can see your cheeks flushing when you speak about him so fondly. You're having a crush, am I right?"
Hilda's smirk didn't go unnoticed, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Her teasing words struck a nerve, and a flicker of irritation danced in your eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hilda. It's just concern for a fellow human being," you retorted, your tone defensive.
Hilda chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Concern, my dear, often wears a different face. There's no shame in admitting you care for him. After all, this world is full of unexpected twists, isn't it?"
You pursed your lips, attempting to maintain composure. Deep down, you knew there was a kernel of truth in Hilda's words. The concern for Touya had indeed taken a different form, and your heart acknowledged a connection that transcended mere worry. Yet, admitting it to yourself felt like navigating uncharted waters.
Ignoring Hilda's knowing gaze, you turned away, feigning disinterest. But within, a storm of conflicting emotions raged, and you couldn't deny the impact Touya had made on your guarded heart.
As the night wore on, sleep eluded you. Tossing and turning in your simple bed, a peculiar yet potentially useful idea began to form in your mind. The notion of extracting information from Shoto about his plans took root, and you found yourself contemplating the details of how to execute this risky but potentially advantageous scheme.
The flickering light of the dim chamber barely illuminated your face as you hatched a plan to subtly and strategically approach Shoto. The urgency of the situation and the looming mission compelled you to consider taking matters into your own hands, even if it meant navigating the treacherous waters of deceit. With a determined resolve, you prepared yourself mentally for the intricate dance of conversation that lay ahead.
In your best dress, adorned with the finest that could be salvaged among the thralls, you made your way to the tavern after learning from Natsuo that Shoto was seen going out with a warrior named Hawks. As you stepped out, the cool breeze of the late afternoon caressed your face, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within you.
Arriving at the tavern, you could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking mugs seeping through the wooden door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, revealing the warm, dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the scent of ale and the low hum of conversations. You scanned the room, finally spotting Shoto and Hawks in a corner, engaged in a conversation.
Shoto's two-colored hair caught the wavering light as he raised his tankard in a toast. "To power and the thrill of the hunt," he declared with a smirk, taking a long swig.
Hawks leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes.
The duo seemed engrossed in conversation, their laughter mingling with the low hum of the tavern. Female thralls, drawn by their presence, attempted to engage in conversation, but the exchanges were marked by a darkness that hinted at their underlying intentions. Shoto and Hawks were having fun in the company of two thralls with exotic features that hinted at a southern origin. The air was charged with an unmistakable tension as the men engaged in flirtatious banter.
One of the thralls, feigning coyness, asked, "What brings you to our humble company tonight?"
Shoto, with a sly grin, leaned in to the thrall seated by his side, and said, "Oh, just the usual – seeking a bit of warmth in this frigid place. Perhaps you ladies could provide some, hmmm?" He mused, running his hand up and down the girl's shoulder.
The other thrall, playing along, responded, "Warmth, you say? Well, you might need to work hard to earn that from us."
Shoto frowned a little, yet his voice stayed low and smooth, "You seem to be unaware of my position, woman. I am the heir to earl Endeavor, and I demand that you address me with the respect befitting my status," he forcefully grabbed the other woman by her shoulder, causing her to tumble off her chair and land on the floor next to him. "So, I suggest you watch your manners, for I am the best you can find in this establishment. Consider your words carefully before opening that foolish mouth of yours next time."
Hawks nodded in agreement, "Indeed, the gentleman here is right. Shoto, don't scare the lady."
The conversations continued in this bold and wry manner, each word dripping with innuendo as the men skillfully navigated the delicate dance of desire. The atmosphere in the tavern buzzed with anticipation as the thralls played their part in the seductive exchange, the one that previously ended on the floor now sat quietly, letting Hawks wrap his strong arms around her shoulders as his hand was playing with her breasts from time to time.
Summoning your courage, you approached them, the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. As you drew nearer, you caught Shoto's eye, and a subtle smirk crept onto his face. Hawks, on the other hand, eyed you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The atmosphere shifted as you prepared to enter a world of alliances and secrets, uncertain of what the outcome might be.
"Well, well, what brings you to this den of sin all alone? Where's your precious Touya? Couldn't keep up with his demands?" the youngest Endeavorson taunted, his tone laced with amusement.
You brushed off his wry remark. "I think it's time for us to bury the hatchet. Our relationship didn't start on the best note, and I believe we can find a way to coexist peacefully."
He looked at you, seemingly surprised by your suggestion. Shoto considered your words, and after a moment, he offered you a seat with them.
Throughout the interaction, Hawks observed the scene. You gave him a brief smile, trying to maintain a cool demeanor in the company of the two men.
Shoto turned to you with an air of faux politeness, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I believe we can have a civilized conversation, don't you?" His eyes darted towards the thrall who had been seated beside him, and with a dismissive gesture, he uttered, "You, leave us."
The thrall shot you a cold glance before complying with Shoto's request and vacating the space.
Now alone, Shoto leaned back in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "There, much better. Now, let's chat, shall we?"
You took a deep breath before speaking, "I must admit, despite the fear you instill within me, there's a certain charisma about you. It's hard not to notice."
Shoto's grin widened, appreciating the acknowledgment. "Well, I appreciate your honesty. And by the way, I quite like your accent. It adds a certain charm." His compliment was laced with a hint of mischief as he reached his hand out to briefly rub your shoulder.
You felt a shiver run down your spine as Shoto's hand landed on your shoulder. Suppressing a wince, you decided to play along with his casual demeanor. When he asked about the real reason for your visit, you hesitated for a moment before responding, "Well, I just wanted to get to know you a little better, my lord."
Shoto raised an eyebrow, considering your words. "Interesting choice of words. Here, have some mead." He poured some into a wooden mug and handed it to you, a sly smile playing on his lips.
You accepted, trying to keep your nerves at bay.
Hawks, with a twinkle in his golden eyes, couldn't help but comment, "Quite a beauty you have here, Shoto. Earl Endeavor's thralls are indeed a treasure."
Shoto, taking a sip of his mead, glanced at you and replied wryly, "All Christian women have this softness within them. I just happen to enjoy breaking it." His words were delivered with a certain darkness that sent a chill down your spine.
Trying to maintain composure, you played along, responding with a forced smile, as you looked at Shoto's companion, "Well, thank you for the compliment, sir."
As Shoto continued to drink, you couldn't shake off the unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.
As more mugs of mead were emptied by the men and the atmosphere in the tavern grew warmer, you mustered the courage to bring up the topic that had been gnawing at your thoughts. Leaning in, you addressed Shoto, "Forgive me for intruding, but I overheard that you and Touya are going on a mission. Is it true?"
Shoto's eyes, a mix of icy determination and something unreadable, met yours. He took a moment, swirling the remnants of his mead in his mug before responding, "Yes, a mission to the north. Father believes it's a land rich in resources, and he wants us to secure it for the settlement."
Hawks, who had been listening attentively, chimed in, "Aye, a mission of great importance. The north can be treacherous, though. Many dangers await those who venture into the unknown."
You nodded, though a lingering concern for Touya flickered in your eyes. "What kind of dangers are you talking about? Is it just the harsh conditions of the north, or is there something else we should be aware of?"
Shoto's stoic expression betrayed little, leaving you to wonder about the true nature of the mission and what it might mean for both brothers.
Hawks took a sip from his mead, his golden eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and wariness. "The north is a wild place, full of untamed landscapes and creatures. Wolves, bears, and more roam freely. Not to mention, the weather can be brutal, especially this time of year."
Shoto's gaze never wavered as he observed your reaction to Hawks' nonchalant explanation.
You sensed there might be more to the story, but both men remained guarded in their responses.
Shoto's sudden shift in demeanor caught you off guard, his hand landing on your knee with an unexpected boldness. He began to rub your knee casually, his gaze steady as he threw a question your way. "Let's change the topic, my dear. The ruggedness of our upcoming mission might be a bit too much for a delicate female mind like yours to comprehend," he remarked, his fingers tracing small circles on your knee, playing with the hems of your dress. Then, with a smirk, he leaned in, his tone low and almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, has my older brother had his way with you yet?"
You felt a mix of discomfort and annoyance at his audacity, but you tried to maintain composure. "That's none of your business, Shoto," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And the mission—"
"Oh, don't play coy," he interrupted, his lips curling into a smirk. "I'm genuinely curious. After all, I'd hate for you to miss out on experiencing the full range of pleasures in our little settlement."
The situation had taken an unexpected turn, and you found yourself navigating the conversation with a mix of caution and defiance, unsure of where Shoto was leading with his intrusive inquiries.
You met Shoto's audacious question with a bold response. "No, my lord, I haven't been with anyone, ever," you asserted, trying to maintain a sense of control in the conversation.
Hawks chimed in with a cryptic comment, "Well, isn't that a rare treasure in these parts. A thrall with untouched cunny, how intriguing."
You shot a wary glance at Hawks, uncertain about the implications of his words.
Shoto, however, seemed more amused than surprised, his smirk widening as if he had expected such a revelation. "You're missing out on experiences, thrall. I could show you what it's like. I doubt my older brother knows how to please a woman. Look at him, covered in scars, a truly disgusting sight. No normal woman would willingly lie with such a damaged man."
You felt Shoto's hand sliding beneath the fabric of your dress, making your breath catch in your throat. His audacious suggestion hung in the air, and the atmosphere became charged with tension.
You pulled away, a mix of surprise and discomfort evident on your face. "Maybe… Nut I didn't have enough mead yet, my lord," you asserted, trying to maintain a semblance of control over the situation.
Shoto, undeterred, leaned in with a sly grin. "Afraid of a little adventure? I promise you, it'll be an experience you won't forget," he whispered, his mismatched eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity.
As Shoto poured another mug of mead for you, you discreetly took small sips, ensuring that the majority of the liquid found its way into Hawks' cup while the two men were engrossed in conversation. The effects of the mead were beginning to show on Shoto, but you remained clear-headed.
The conversation in the tavern continued, filled with laughter and raucous chatter. You observed Shoto's growing inebriation and wondered if this was the opportune moment to extract information about the mission.
As Shoto, in a visibly inebriated state, decided to make his way back to the Great Hall, Hawks was more than willing to accompany him. However, seizing the opportunity to gather more information, you stepped forward and offered to walk Shoto back on his behalf. Hawks, busy with the two other thralls he managed to lure, readily agreed.
With Shoto leaning on you for support, you began the journey back to the Great Hall. The night air was crisp, and the sound of distant revelry echoed through the settlement. As you walked, you subtly steered the conversation toward the mission, aiming to extract any valuable details Shoto might unwittingly reveal in his inebriated state. As Shoto stumbled beside you, you ventured to ask, "Shoto, why do you harbor such resentment toward Touya? It seems like there's a lot of tension between you two."
Shoto's response was punctuated by occasional hiccups, and he spoke with a slurred cadence, "Touya… he's always been the favorite. Father sees him as the rightful heir, even after he attempted on killing him… When he was a baby… I'm just… the spare. I've had to fight for every scrap of approval, every shred of acknowledgment. It's fucking infuriating."
His words were tinged with a mix of bitterness and vulnerability, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath the surface of their strained relationship.
Shoto's alcohol-laden breath hung in the night air as he delved deeper into the caverns of his animosity. His words spilled out, laced with venom and a fervent desire for retribution. "You see, Y/N… Touya has always been the golden child… Father dotes on him, oblivious to the struggles I faced. I fought tooth and nail, but in his eyes, I'm still the disappointment." His voice resonated with a toxic blend of envy and resentment. "I wish he'd disappear, fade away… It would be so much easier without him overshadowing me at every turn… Fucking Touya. Father might finally see my worth."
As he spoke, you couldn't help but sense the profound wounds that fueled Shoto's disdain for his older brother, wondering if there was any way to mend the frayed bonds between them.
With a heavy sigh, you opened the huge, wooden door to the Great Hall. In the dimly lit hallway, you guided Shoto with careful steps, avoiding any unnecessary noise. As you reached his chamber, the weight of your question hung in the air, and you couldn't help but ask, "My lord… Do you plan to harm your older brother during this mission?"
He paused, his drunken demeanor momentarily overshadowed by a serious glint in his eyes. "Hurt him? No. But if fate has other plans for him, who am I to intervene?"
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Shoto's words held any truth or if they were merely intoxicated ramblings. As you opened the door and let go of his waist, you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that there was more beneath the surface of his seemingly casual response. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across his face, adding an enigmatic air to the entire exchange.
The sudden force of Shoto's grip on your waist surprised you, and before you could react, his lips collided with yours in a messy, drunken kiss. The taste of mead lingered on his breath, making the encounter less pleasant than you might have imagined. You winced, feeling a mix of discomfort and confusion as the moment unfolded.
Shoto's hand slipped beneath your dress and moved up your leg, resting between your thighs. As he pulled away, his eyes were glazed, and he chuckled under his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," he slurred, releasing his hold on you and stumbling into his chamber. "I'll make sure you're mine, not his." The door closed behind him, leaving you standing in the hallway, processing the unexpected exchange with your palm pressed against your mouth.
As you turned around, your heart sank, its rhythm momentarily disrupted - there, in the corridor, stood Touya. His expression held a mixture of surprise and shock as he observed you, and an unspoken tension hung in the air.
Touya's harsh words hung in the air, stinging like a bitter truth. "I can't believe you're like that, Y/N, letting my brother touch you this way. I thought you were different, not like every other thrall, but I guess I was wrong."
A lump formed in your throat as you desperately wanted to explain, to make him understand, but before you could utter a single word, Touya turned on his heel and left, the resounding crash of the door slamming shut echoing through the dimly lit corridor.
Now, you found yourself standing alone, the weight of his accusations settling in. The corridor seemed colder, lonelier in the aftermath of his anger. You replayed the scene in your mind, the hurt etched on Touya's face, the disappointment in his voice. It was a bitter cocktail of emotions that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
The truth was, you never intended to betray or hurt Touya. You considered chasing after him, explaining that it wasn't as it seemed, that your intentions were never to betray him. But the finality of that slamming door weighed heavily on your shoulders.
A lone tear traced the contours of your cheek, a delicate testament to the waning emotions within. It was as if you had relinquished something profoundly vital, a precious fragment of your life slipping away, leaving behind a poignant void.
heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog @haseki-huricihan @violet-forgetmenot
#viking!Dabi#viking!Shoto#earl!Endeavor#dabi#touya todoroki#bnha dabi#dabi my hero academia#mha dabi#todoroki touya#dabi fanfic#touya imagine#touya#mha touya#bnha touya#bnha fanfiction#todoroki toya#toya todoroki#dabi x reader#dabi x you#touya todoroki x reader#touya todoroki x you#shoto todoroki#endeavor#enji todoroki#dabi x y/n#natsuo todoroki#hawks#takami keigo#viking!Hawks#shoto x reader
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Catton's Little Puppet / Oliver Quick & Felix Catton
summary: Oliver had harbored a long-standing obsession with both the reader and Felix. Despite his discomfort at witnessing the two together, he saw it as a chance to strategically earn their trust in an unconventional manner. It was an opportunity for Felix to potentially welcome him into their partnership, transforming the dynamic into a trio where they would all be equals, yet each holding a unique role—masters entwined in the intricate dance of their own puppetry.
ps: English is not my primary language, so I apologize for any errors or mistakes. If you choose to use or replicate my work without proper credit, it may be subject to being flagged.
tag list: @bananzaa @sisgotdemons enjoy!
Oliver hated everything about you when you two first met.
Oliver hated the way your hips seamlessly moved to the rhythm of the music. Your smile captured the essence of every words from the songs you knew by heart. As you clutched the now-empty beer cup, poised to pour another for yourself, Felix's arm effortlessly wrapped around your waist. In a swift motion, he pulled you to his side, mirroring the smile Oliver had admired the first time actually meeting Felix. Oliver couldn't help but think that if he averted his gaze for even a second, Felix's and your lips would meet. The scene drew him back into the room later that evening, only for Felix and you to vanish until the sunrise.
Oliver hated when, the next day, you walked into class looking all polished and preppy. Although he knew that it was only an illusion, as you had once shared with him that it was simply a matter of practice. Even suggesting he follow suit that same morning. During Oliver's first week, you didn't have much information about him, like everyone. Oliver had found himself completely withdraw by your beauty upon entering on that same morning when you arrived late– clearly hungover from the homecoming of the school’s first day and an obvious amount of hickeys left from Felix. How Oliver wanted his to also be marked through Felix’s.
Oliver hated witnessing your interactions with Felix. Typically, he would pay no attention if it were any other girls, but there was something about you that intrigued him. It all truly began when Felix introduced you to him on the same evening after borrowing Oliver's bike. "So, you're the faithful hero who saved Felix. But in the end, who can resist such charm, am I right, dear?" That marked the second time Oliver had heard your voice, yet this time it felt genuine – natural and almost too angelic to let go until its last breath. “Oh, right! Where are my manners? I'm Y/N. And you?”
“Oliver, but you can call me Ollie.” He said without insistence, a departure from his earlier encounters with Felix in person. A surge of confidence enveloped him, particularly as you extended your hand for a proper handshake, a gesture Felix took delight in complimenting, deepening Oliver's infatuation. “And thanks to Y/N's wonderful parents for bringing such a polite daughter into the world.” Oliver, if he had the courage, would have agreed wholeheartedly, envisioning a passion and intensity in a kiss that rivaled Felix's. However, the reality weighed on Oliver, when he heard your beautiful voice once more. “Oh, stop it. Felix has a way with compliments smoother than butter. But I'll remember your gratitude, Ollie.”
And he did remember to. How you would lean in to give him a peck on the cheek. Not that he was special, considering the fact that you always did that whoever you had meet. Nonetheless, for Oliver it meant something more, something that he too would be able to feel, to feel that same love you have for Felix just as you would for Oliver.
Being in proximity to Felix and his circle of friends was coveted by many at the school, and an invitation to Saltburn was a sought-after opportunity. Unless someone had established connections within the group, receiving an invitation was usually contingent on existing friendships. Such was the anticipation for Oliver, who found himself in this situation when Felix enthusiastically proposed the idea of inviting him. It wasn't merely an act of gratitude; rather, it stemmed from Oliver's generosity in lending his bike to a stranger, who had now become a valued friend to him.
Upon your arrival, Oliver caught sight of you standing alone. From the outset, what captivated him was your independence; you didn't always rely on Felix's wealth, and you had a sense of self that wasn’t easily spoiled. “Ollie!” You exclaimed, swiftly kicking off your overly tight heels and dashing towards him. You cupped his face and planted quick pecks all over, leaving him delighted by the touch of your moisturized lips on his cheek. But quickly caught up by someone’s chuckle echoing in a distance. “Jesus, Y/N. You're going to suffocate the poor thing.” Remarked Venetia, welcoming the playful scene with a teasing tone. She observed Oliver's reaction to your enthusiastic greeting, as a way to make the new comer even more relentless of his own. As soon as you released from him, you excused yourself from the exuberance and headed towards the Catton's mansion. “She's a firecracker, this one. Quite surprising that she's into nerds. I wonder what Felix will think.” She mused with a smirk.
Felix's potential thoughts were the constant contemplation in Oliver's mind during the initial days of his stay at the Catton residence. Beyond that, he marveled at how effortlessly open and welcoming you were, despite having only briefly connected during your time in school. While he appreciated the sound of your voice and the way you interacted with him and Felix, it was observing you in quiet moments that truly captivated Oliver. This fascination grew into an unexpected and almost unbelievable obsession, especially considering his initial attraction to Felix. The idea of being paired with anyone else was inconceivable, yet, over time and thanks to Venetia's indiscretions, Oliver discovered that you and Felix were in an open relationship, a decision made to explore new dynamics. You had said. What Oliver didn't know, among the many selected for this unconventional pairing, was that he would be the chosen one.
“You think this is a good idea?” You questioned one morning, adorned in your favorite gown, a cup of coffee in hand, awaiting breakfast as a drowsy Oliver entered the room. “Don't worry.” Felix reassured, leaning in close with his lips almost grazing the crook of your neck. His fingers traced a playful path around your waist, eliciting a chuckle from you at his teasing. "Remember when you said you wanted to fuck a nerd this year? Well, he's all yours." Felix declared confidently, causing a subtle blush to tint your cheeks. “But also yours too, don't forget.” You reminded him. As much as Felix hesitated to acknowledge his feelings, he too harbored an attraction to Oliver. The catch, however, was Felix's love for control. Witnessing you with Oliver was, in fact, more thrilling for him than you might have anticipated.
Upon Oliver's entrance, a palpable tension filled the room as he observed Felix already standing close to you, a subtle fear gripping him that his presence might disrupt the connection you shared. Foolish man you are. Oliver would mutter to himself whenever he glimpsed the slightest hints of Felix's protective or controlling demeanor, not just towards you but anyone. Dismissing the notion, he decided to join both of you for breakfast, putting on a smile as he noticed the exclusive trio occupying the mansion today. “Where is everyone?” Oliver was the first to inquire, scanning the surroundings, even the garden, to find no one but the three of you. The idea began to dawn on you that this could be the perfect setting for something a bit more adventurous, something spicy involving all three. Innocently shrugging, you played along, and Felix couldn't help but laugh at your little game. “Haven't seen them, probably still in their beds, completely oblivious from last night's revelry. Wouldn't be surprised. What a shame to miss a beautiful breakfast with such lovely companions.”
What a shame, indeed, thought Oliver, his gaze penetrating yours as he found himself momentarily lost, only to be brought back by the server serving him a cup of coffee. He awkwardly thanked the server, prompting laughter from both Felix and you at his clumsiness. “You know,” Felix began, his confidence evident, especially when it came to matters of relationships and involving others. “Y/N and I have been... intrigued by you, you know? Perhaps attracted to how quickly you became part of our group. But a little bird told me that she's really drawn to you. Maybe if she had the courage to tell you instead of resorting to these daunting tasks.” Felix said casually, causing you to gasp in response to his unexpected comment. Despite your initial shock, you quickly realized he meant no harm or shame. In fact, Felix wanted Oliver to express his feelings – emotions that could harmonize with yours and eventually be shared behind closed doors.
"Do I happen to know this little bird?" Oliver quipped, his gaze shifting between the two of you with a hint of surprise. Even though he already knew who Felix was referring to, Oliver decided to play along, much to Felix's delight, as he too wanted to please his friend. Felix nodded in acknowledgment. “Certainly, and if I may say so myself, she has a penchant for the nerdy type. However, she seems to be enjoying this new side of him much more recently.” Felix admitted openly, his arm remaining securely around your waist. He was well aware of the complexities of a polyamorous relationship, but if it meant your happiness and the joy of seeing you smile, it was all he could do. Plus, it certainly added to Oliver's amusement in seeing a different facet of Felix.
"Keep it discreet." You whispered to Felix, who, in response, leaned in so uncomfortably close that your words seemed almost ignored. This added an enticing and thrilling dynamic to your relationship. At that precise moment, Felix rose from his chair and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. “Behave now. For me– and for Ollie.” He advised, leaving you feeling utterly defenseless in the hands of someone who had evolved into an obsession similar to the initial intensity when you both first met. Your pout, intended as a defense mechanism, only seemed to amuse Felix, prompting him to gently cup your face. He teasingly bit at your lower lip, evoking a soft whine before he kissed you. “If anything happens, call me, okay? I won't be far away.” He assured you with a softer and more passionate tone, shifting his gaze from yours to acknowledge Oliver with a nod. Ultimately, Felix's interactions with Venetia were not entirely unfamiliar to Oliver, especially when it meant being alone with the most captivating woman in all of Saltbun.
Oliver had carefully chosen his outfit for the occasion, opting for a stylish blue t-shirt that complemented his complexion. In an attempt to break the ice between you two, you remarked it so lively starting with the missing glasses. “I see someone ditched their glasses.” Noting his uneasy glances from side to side, as if hiding something. However, upon hearing your voice, his gaze softened, and he offered a gentle smile, reminiscent of the one he gave Felix when they first met. “Glasses are so last season anyway. Prefer the contact lenses.” He casually remarked, initially giving the impression of a more reserved demeanor than you had originally perceived. This perception lingered, especially during moments when it was just the two of you alone. However, recent events, including spending a night at Farleigh's room and Oliver recounting what he had witnessed, left you uncertain about whom to trust. Consequently, you rose from your chair and approached him. His adorable gasp was the only sound as he watched your sudden movement. “What... are you doing?” he asked, stuttering mid-sentence.
“Nothing…” You casually said to him although it was quite the obvious as you leaned to sat on his lap. His fingers trying his best to mimic Felix’s as you hushed him not to do so but to do it like how he did it to Venetia. Which at first surprised him because he began to think that you knew about it too– but you had said nothing to him since that event. After all– it was a game that Felix and you wanted. Turned out however that it was both Felix and Oliver who wanted you. To be their puppets as the masters take charge to their own demise, sadistic pleasure. Although contracting themselves perfectly, it was one of the many reasons why you had though Oliver to be fascinated in the first place. “Just admiring you.” Was what you said to him next, before continuing as you gently touched the collar of his shirt.
“Make me love like you never have before—a love you've been craving since you arrived here. I know your little game, Ollie. We all do.” You whispered, leaning even closer until your lips grazed his, your hand cupping the side of his jawline. In that moment, you took charge, reversing the dynamics of control. However, the atmosphere shifted abruptly when your final confession made Oliver tense. His muscles stiffened, and his fingers gripped your waist, guiding you onto the table, rendering your body completely at his mercy. Gently crawling on top of you, a cocktail of excitement, lust, and a desire to submit to him filled the air. “Then..” He said softly, lifting your lacy gown casually and placing a few kisses before continuing. “I'll make sure you don't have to remember it, Princess. I’ll fuck you until your screams for more are heard at an even distance.” His eyes barely left you as your head leaned back, moans escaping your lips. However, before you could fully respond, Oliver's gaze intensified with each kiss, and he uttered. “I want you to say my name, just like you do for Felix's. Say that you are mine and mine alone.”
“Yes, I'll do anything you ask.” You affirmed. Your eyes pleaded, craving to be cherished and made to feel like a loved woman once more. It wasn't that Felix wasn't providing that, but the allure of someone unknown, a complete stranger, added an extra layer of excitement. “Make love to me as if you've never experienced anyone before. Have me begging for you until the break of dawn. I want your marks all over me, Ollie.” You confessed. With those words, Oliver eagerly removed his shirt, hunger evident in his desire to kiss every inch of your skin. Starting from your inner thighs, you couldn't help but release a soft giggle as you felt his tongue slowly traveling down.
However, there was one crucial detail both of you remained oblivious to – Felix had meticulously orchestrated this entire scenario, intending it to unfold as an exclusive spectacle for himself. His curiosity lay in observing Oliver's actions when left alone with all of you. Yet, the setup lacked a crucial element: Felix himself. Mere miles away, Felix sensed a tightening sensation in his groin beneath his pants. His fingers delicately caressed the sensation, attempting not to draw attention to himself. Seizing the opportune moment, he approached quietly as your back remained turned, your arms securely wrapped around Oliver's neck. As he neared, Felix gently untangled your shoulders, skillfully removing every piece of clothing he could manage before eliciting a surprised gasp from you. “Fe—”But Oliver's lips silenced you, a deliberate move to divert attention. Even though Oliver feigned ignorance of Felix's game, he too realized it was just a matter of finally being alone together – a scenario briefly alluded to by Felix before arriving in Saltburn. “Shh, Princess. Remember, he’s all yours.” Had Felix said upon continuing to admire your fully undressed body.
In that moment, you realized you belonged entirely to both Oliver and Felix. They came as a combined package, a connection deeper and more intricate than anyone in Saltburn could fathom. Following the encounter at the pool, the three of you continued these clandestine rendezvous. Sometimes it was Oliver gazing into the distance, and other times, it was Felix. Yet, a constant remained – whenever you were out, they were with you. Over time, Oliver acknowledged, opening up to himself, that he truly felt at home, especially when you nestled yourself in a lacy gown between both of them, indulging in endless kisses until sleep embraced you all. This routine became a comforting ritual, repeated again and again.
#felix catton x reader#reader x oliver quick#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton imagie#oliver quick imagine#felix catto x y/n#felix catton x you#oliver quick x you#saltburn imagines#farleigh x reader#venetia catton#jacob elordi#barry keoghan
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Currently at work but now I'm imagining you giving Buggy a nice head massage from a hard day at work
Just a fluffy image here 💙
A/N: I promise I'll actually write a fic out when I get the chance but for now ✨imagines✨ also in imaging this as LA buggy but either one (LA, anime, or manga) works for this!
Buggy is a very 'flashy' guy, always putting on performances that the audience just 'loves' to watch and witness, of course led by the man himself. Almost setting the entire circus on fire at one point with his magnificent acts... let's just say it was a rough day that day for everyone.
And today was not exception. While at sea, in his personal quarters, Buggy snuggle up deeper into your chest breathing in your scent as he mummers in delight. Your finger tangled in his blue locks -which is surprisingly soft, he tries to keep up with his hair- slowly pulling out them farther, hearing the sweet sounds of enjoyment from your silly man.
You grip his head gently, moving your finger tips in a scrubby motion, giving his head scratches. You can hear Buggy mumble in your chest along the lines of "god it feels so niceeee".
You smile gleefully as you continue to massage his head, sending waves of happiness to him.
Buggy is the type of man where, yes he does beg and whine much of the time for any sort of attention just for shits and giggles at times, he did need some real genuine attention when it was most needed such as now. He always strived for all eyes on him but the only eyes he needed on him was yours.
Buggy lifts his head up, having a very relaxed look plastered on his face. His makeup was smeared just a smidge but not too much. His eyes half lidded as he stared at you, his watercolor eyes glimmering in the lamps illuminating light.
He leans into your touch, speaking, "That... feels... so good... hmmm" he whispers at the end, falling back into your chest. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls himself closer to you.
You giggle, smiling gleefully at the man you call 'my love'.
"How are you feeling now bugs?" You asked him, curiously. Your hands moving from his soft locks and down to his back, lifting up his vest a bit as your nails move along his back, sending a shockwave of euphoria to him.
He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, kissing lightly on it as he lets out some mewls of sleepiness.
"Feeling, great, doll" he tells you, giggling lightly as you drag your nails across a spot on his back, around his rib cage, making him feel ticklish.
He may be a killing pillaging pirate, but he had his moments of goodness.
He lifts his head back up to stare at you, smiling maliciously with his red stained lips stick across his beautiful face. You return the smile and press your nose up against his, giving him a bunny kiss before pressing your lips onto his. You knew he was self conscious about his nose, and even then he was still iffy about any sort of loving attention on it, however the bunny kisses slowly won him over.
His presses his lips back onto yours, smirking in the kiss before pulling away. Chuckling at the red stained mark on your lips.
"I love ya, my sugar pie~" he tells you, melting into your touch once more as you now had one hand tangled in his locks of hair, draped over his shoulders and back, and the other hand scratching his back softly.
He pressed his forehead against your chest, letting you kiss the scalp of his sea blue hair.
"I love you too, bugs~"
#one piece#one piece buggy#buggy#buggy x reader#buggy x you#buggy fluff#onyx writings 🌹#buggy x gender neutral reader#x reader#buggy the clown#buggy the clown x reader#buggy the clown x you
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In the whimsical town of Bizarreville, a small, intellectual middle-aged man named Harold lived a quiet life, filled with books and dreams he never pursued. One sunny afternoon, while meandering through the ancient part of town, Harold stumbled upon an old, dusty lamp hidden beneath the roots of a gnarled oak tree. Curiosity piqued, he rubbed the lamp, and to his astonishment, a genie emerged in a puff of smoke, declaring, "Three wishes you have, master!"
Thrilled, Harold's first request was simple yet deeply personal. "I wish for a bushy mustache, for I've never been able to grow one!" he exclaimed. With a poof, a magnificent mustache appeared on his upper lip, bushy and splendid, causing Harold to giggle with delight.
With a glint of desire in his eyes, Harold voiced his second wish. "I desire my body to mirror the pinnacle of masculine perfection, envied by all," he declared with a newfound boldness. The genie, with a flick of his wrist, unleashed a magical energy that enveloped Harold. Initially, his muscles began to swell with an almost liquid grace, each fiber expanding, rippling beneath his skin as if a symphony of physical grandeur played along his very bones.
His arms thickened, veins mapping out new territories as his chest broadened, stretching his shirt to its limits. For a fleeting moment, Harold was the epitome of every bodybuilder's dream, his physique surpassing that of ancient statues dedicated to the gods of old.
Yet, as he flexed, an unease settled within him. This was not the perfection he yearned for. "No, no, this isn't what I meant by perfection." The genie, puzzled but patient, snapped his fingers again, reverting Harold to his original, slender frame.
Acknowledging Harold's dissatisfaction, the genie's hands moved again, this time with a different intent. As Harold focused on a deeper, more intrinsic form of perfection, he felt a peculiar sensation begin at his core. It started as a gentle pull, then grew into a forceful surge. His belly, once flat and unremarkable, began to expand.
This transformation was not rapid but gradual, allowing Harold to savor each moment. The sensation was akin to a balloon being filled, his skin stretching smoothly over the growing expanse. His belly swelled outward, a curve so pronounced and majestic it seemed to defy gravity. It was as if the very essence of creation and abundance was being woven into his form, his body becoming a symbol of fertility and prosperity.
Harold placed his hands on his sides, feeling the warmth and the stretch, marveling at the sheer volume and the softness. The expansion stopped at a point where his belly protruded magnificently, a proud, round dome that spoke of life and the beauty of form in its most nurturing aspect. His shirt, hopelessly outmatched by the girth of his belly, framed this new masterpiece of nature. Harold, with a smile that stretched as wide as his waistline, rubbed his belly with affection and awe. It was a belly that commanded respect, a testament to his unique vision of perfection.
The townsfolk of Bizarreville would long remember the day Harold redefined what it meant to embody perfection. Not with the chiseled features of a Herculean demigod, but with the gentle, embracing curve of his magnificent belly. As he walked home, every step was a testament to his newfound self-acceptance and the unconventional journey of transformation he had embraced. The genie, witnessing this profound appreciation of personal fulfillment, disappeared into the lamp, leaving behind a world a little wider in its understanding of beauty.
#ai muscle#ai generated#ai#ai story#gay muscle men#mpreg kink#mpreg belly#mpreg#mpregnancy#ball belly#bellyinflation#musclegrowth#ai muscle growth#male muscle growth#belly expansion#muscle expansion#muscle inflation
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hii congrats on 3k you deserve it!!! i love your works so much you're one of my favorite writers here <3 can i request for the event yeonjun + howl's moving castle + fluff and smut ? love you <3
NOW SHOWING...
pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: fantasy, fluff, smսt
wc: 3.2k
details + warnings: minors + blank/ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked, yeonjun as howl (take these two pics for reference,, phew), mc as sophie (but no defining physical features are described besides silver hair), this takes place after the events of the movie aka flying castle era, light dom/sub dynamics, vv soft sex, oral (f receiving), they are so in love it's sickening honestly
notes: starting this event off strong with one of my ults paired with one of my favorite movies...*visibly quaking* and ilyt nonnie <3 you're the sweetest
humming to yourself, you amble down the cobblestone path of a town far from the one that you once considered home. your dress brushes against your legs as you continue forward, the soft fabric rustled by a cool, gentle breeze characteristic of spring. above, clouds drift about the cerulean sky, the sun's rays gentle and warm where they kiss your skin. you soon spot the door that you had first emerged from when you had set out to complete a handful of errands earlier in the afternoon.
your focus on the door falters at the mouth watering scent wafting from a nearby stall, something saccharine and warm. perhaps one more stop is in order, you find yourself thinking as you part from your original path. your feet lead you over to the older woman overseeing the small stand surrounded by other passersby nibbling at the sweets she sells. the crow's feet around her eyes appear when she smiles at you, her chin-length hair a similar silver hue to your own.
“hello, my dear,” she greets, her voice soft and worn with time. as she continues, her hands work in tandem to package some of the treats that had lured you over. “how may i help you?”
you offer her a polite smile while you request four of the small, half-moon pastries filled with molasses-rich sugar and chopped nuts. steam rises from the ones that have just finished cooking, ready to be packaged for awaiting customers. she nods at you, smiling, as she quickly wraps up and hands the fresh ones off to a woman and her two young children to your left. the youngest hums in delight once he takes a bite, and the three of them head off down the road.
“your hair is quite beautiful, dear,” she says, the twinkle in her eyes signifying the truthfulness of her words as you place the correct amount of coins into her awaiting palm. “i’ve never seen someone so young with such a shade. it suits you well.”
“oh, thank you! that is very kind of you to say,” you reply, your soft voice imbued with surprise. while most do not comment, you have witnessed firsthand the gawking and stares of judgement that your hair has garnered in your travels. the hue is a reminder of the curse you once endured, but the fond memories it brings forth far outweigh any negative reactions you have received thus far. warmth fills your chest at the compliment.
she wraps and hands you your own pastries seconds later. bowing your head slightly, you voice your gratitude before you realize she has given you one extra. you attempt to hand one back to her, the others tucked into the basket hanging off of your arm. “ma’am, i believe you may have given me one too many—”
“nonsense,” she winks, pushing your hand back towards you. “consider it a gift.”
guilt swirling in your stomach, you try to hand her another coin. however, she refuses, shooing you away from her stand with well-wishes of safe travels. with a final shallow bow and kind words in return, you depart from the stall, your steps light and springy.
embarrassingly giddy after the sweet interaction, you scurry down the street much quicker now, eager to return home. home — it is what you used to call your family's hat shop, but now...now, home is what you call yeonjun, his youthful apprentice, kai, calicfer, heen, even the witch of the waste. they are your home, and nothing could ever exceed the joy that that truth brings you.
you remove one of the pastries from your basket, unwrapping it to take a bite, eyes widening at the sweet, syrupy taste that coats your tongue. delicious is the sole word that comes to mind. the warm delicacy only serves to heighten your mood, and it is long gone before you even reach your destination. you are tempted to reach for another, but decide against it. a hand wraps around the knob and twists, and suddenly, you are no longer in the town, but soaring high above in yeonjun's — and now, too, your own — flying castle.
“i’m home!” you call as you enter, using the heel of your boot to swing the wooden door closed behind you. though he is no longer confined to the hearth, calcifer sits there anyway; it has become habit after his years bound to yeonjun.
“oh, look who’s decided to come back!” he exclaims, flames growing brighter at the sight of you. “yeonjun’s been sulkin’ in his room since ya left — i’ve been dyin’ of boredom out here!”
you breathe a laugh at calcifer’s dramatics, looking for the young boy who is usually around when you return. “where is kai?”
“out. more magical apprentice-y tasks to do, i guess,” he replies, inspecting you as you set the basket down with pursed lips. “why the long face?”
“i got him a sweet from a stall, and it’s still hot,” you hum, beginning to place the produce and other items that you purchased onto the table. “i suppose you will have to warm it up for him later.”
“do i look like some kinda servant?” he asks, indignant. he continues to ramble about his now free status and how he doesn’t need to listen to you while you continue to remove items from your basket, placing the four remaining pastries to the side.
huffing, you finally wave the firewood you had bought for him. “how about now?”
calcifer gasps at the sight, his small arms appearing to beckon you over. he scoffs, “alright, c’mon, i’ll do it. should’ve just said you had that first.”
you swiftly gather a decent amount of wood in your arms and head over to him, handing him one after another to greedily chomp down. with each one, he grows a bit larger, brighter, his glowing yellow center expanding.
“at this rate, i’ll start likin’ ya better than yeonjun,” the fire demon claims through a mouthful of lumber, snatching another piece from the now dwindling pile that you hold.
“you already do, just admit it,” you quip, grinning down at him.
“admit what?” an inimitably deeper voice asks. head whipping around, you find yeonjun leaning against the doorway, lips quirked up in a smirk with his arms folded across his broad chest. a loose, white blouse envelopes his torso and is tucked into primly tailored trousers.
“oh, nothing for you to fret over,” you tease, well aware that he likely heard the vast majority of the conversation. he tuts, striding over to wrap his arms around your waist from behind, his chin coming to rest upon your shoulder as you present calcifer with the final piece of wood from your makeshift heap. the ends of his hair tickle your skin. he hums something low and quiet, pressing his soft, plump lips against your neck. calcifer, in turn, emits a nauseated heave.
“if ya gonna act all lovey dovey around me, i’ll just leave,” the ball of flame huffs, beginning to float in the air.
yeonjun chuckles, his arms pulling you tighter against him. “no need. i was meaning to steal this one away from you, anyway.”
“oh, great! just wonderful!” he sneers, sinking back down to the stone hearth and glowering at the man who leads you back towards the doorway. “spare my ears while ya at it!”
once you are alone, yeonjun wastes no time in pressing you against his silken bedsheets. he balances himself above you with a single forearm, his hips tucked between your parted thighs and hiked up dress. his lips waste no time in enveloping your own. slow, languid — he takes great care in savoring you, ensuring that you are as close as possible with his free hand cupping your cheek. his cheeky tongue slips into your mouth to curl against yours, causing you to exhale a muffled whine.
before you are able to slide your hands up his shoulders and around the back of his neck, he pulls away. staring up at him, you find chestnut eyes brimming with adoration. the sight of his disheveled hair and shiny, kiss-bruised lips sends flurries of butterflies through your stomach.
"“you taste so sweet, love,” he murmurs as he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone. his words dissipate the heady fog creeping into your mind, and you reach up to grab his hand.
“the pastries!” you exclaim with wide eyes. attempting to sit up, you gently push him back onto his knees. you catch the furrow of his brow, the pout forming on his lips, and you move to explain. “i purchased pastries for us to try while i was out — the stall owner even gave me one more for free! isn’t that delightful?”
yeonjun blinks. hard. how you are whining into his mouth one moment and growing distracted by sweets the next is quite beyond him, but it nonetheless causes an endeared smile to pull at the corners of his lips.
“you should try it while they’re still hot! i’ll go fetch one for you,” you continue, mistakenly taking his grin for excitement. swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stand and begin to scurry over to his bedroom door, him rising from the bed going unnoticed.
despite your newfound goal, your lover does not allow you to stray too far, catching you by the waist and pulling you back against him. his fingers weave together against your stomach, locking you in his embrace, unable to wriggle away.
“don’t leave me,” he pleads, and though you are unable to see it from your position, his tone betrays the pout that he sports. “i feel as if we haven’t seen each other in ages.”
“i’ve only been away for a few hours. you have survived much longer,” you giggle, reaching up to run your fingers through his onyx hair while he kisses up your neck, nipping the skin where you are most sensitive. you allow a quiet moan to escape, a shuddered breath following soon after when he does not halt his ministrations. attempting to pry his hands off, you say, “i’ll be just a minute, if you would let me go.”
whining in protest with his nose nuzzled against your jaw, his grip grows ironclad, the space between your bodies diminishing — and that is when you feel it: the hardness that presses snugly against your rear. heat floods your cheeks at the realization, and your struggle to escape comes to an abrupt end. “love, the pastry—”
“i’ll try it later. i’d much rather taste you at the moment,” he interrupts, voice low and breathy against your ear. the sheer desperation in his voice causes heat to pulse in your center.
he pulls you back to bed with ease, aiding you in your descent to the sheets. his hands bunching the skirt of your dress up reveals your stocking-clad legs, the fabric squeezing the meat of your thighs in a way that causes him to gulp. he slips his body between your legs, a position reminiscent of mere minutes ago, taking his time in running his hands up and down sensitive skin of your inner thighs, traveling dangerously close to your covered center. goosebumps raise beneath his fingers as a shiver slinks down your spine.
while his actions are drenched in admiration mixed with a soft sense of desire, it is too much for you to bear. overwhelmed with bashfulness, you hide your face in your hands. above you, your lover tuts, as if dissapointed with your choice. prying your hands away, he gathers your wrists and presses them into the bed above your head.
“keep your hands there,” he orders, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with need. “or else i will stop.”
your heart skips a beat in your chest at his order, but you nod nevertheless. he simpers at your obedience.
“that’s my girl.”
and suddenly the desire to melt into a puddle washes over you. the words bring you back to the first day that you had encountered him; when he had saved you from two sleazy soldiers, flew you over the town square and helped you to a balcony before disappearing. that day, you had no inkling of just how drastically your life would change. how fate has landed you here, below that very man, in love with him...you have expressed your gratitude to whatever it is above countless times.
truly, you never thought of yourself to be one for praise, but your time with yeonjun thus far has unlocked a myriad of preferences you had never given a second thought to before. as the words echo in your head, you bite your lip to muffle a tiny whine.
chuckling, he lowers himself onto his stomach so that he is eye level with your center. a finger skates over the seam of your panties, sliding up your slit to press against your awaiting bud. all the while, his plump kiss and suckle their way up your thigh until he's nosing at the crease of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds. pulling away, he helps you slip the thin, soaked fabric from you with teasing touches until you are bare from the waist down, sans your stockings.
at the sight of your glistening core, he licks his lips, taking in the way you clench around nothing. you feel terribly exposed, like a sculpture in the center of a gallery, unable to hide. he coos at your trembling state. ever so sensitive, his little doe, even after so long. holding you open, his gaze travels back up past your heaving chest to your flustered face.
“eyes on me, sweetheart. want you to watch me.” he locks his gaze with yours as he dips down to trace your folds with tongue, reveling in the way your brow furrows and your lips part, teeth grazing your bottom lip for a moment. yeonjun is nothing if not a tease, however; he continues to repeat the same movements until you are battling with the urge to snap your eyes shut and burrow your head into the sheets, until you are pleading with him for more. conceding, he dips down to your entrance only to moan at your taste. yes, this is what he has been craving all day. his tongue dips inside for a moment before he licks a bold stripe up to your clit, his eyes fluttering closed while he takes his time in working you up. you cry out as the tip of his tongue slides under the hood, toying with the tiny bundle of nerves with practiced confidence. his lips do not stray far behind, wrapping around and sucking hard, basking in the choked moan you emit in response.
but it's not enough.
he pulls away for a moment, hands squeezing your thighs. when you finally meet his gaze, he finds tears lining your bottom lashes, little dewdrops that cause your eyes to shine brighter.
“sing for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft and hypnotizing. “as loud as you desire. when we’re in this room, no one can hear you but me.”
then, without waiting for your foggy brain to register his words, he dives back in with increased vigor, his lone goal being to make you fall apart, to cause you to let go those silly inhibitions that keep you as quiet as a mouse. he is more than pleased at the cries that follow.
while he loses himself in tasting you, you are falling apart. white-hot pleasure burns in the center of your stomach, a fire that grows hotter and brighter and causes you to grip the sheets harder with paled knuckles. it winds around you and spreads across the entirety of your being. with a mist-shrouded mind, all you can do is take what he provides, grinding against his lips. despite his warning from earlier, you reach down to thread your fingers through his hair and tug. this, evidently, sets him off; more beast than human, he devours you whole. he wants — no, needs your release. cum for me, darling, please cum for me — an unspoken plea, conveyed by his zealous tongue and lips, his grip on your thighs nearly bruising. and you listen, you listen so well despite his silence, the pleasure building and building and building and—
you shatter.
wailing, a supernova of pleasure overwhelms your body and soul, hot tears rolling streaming down your cheeks. your body no longer has a beginning nor an end — you feel as though you are floating above the bed rather than laying upon it, looking down at yourself, at the man betwixt your thighs, the care with which he extracts every drop of pleasure from your center, the patience he exudes while he delivers you back down to your true existence, back to him.
slowly, so very slowly, you return back to yourself, weary eyes fluttering open to find him hovering above you. his pupils hold profound concern, the rhythmic circling of his thumb against your cheek soothing to your mind. he's frowning, and you can see the gears spinning inside his head, wondering if he had finally gone too far.
“jjunie,” you whisper with an exhausted yet lovesick grin, pulling him close so that your foreheads press together — and with the melodic sound of your endearing nickname for him, the doubt, the guilt, festering deep in his chest vanishes. you spend a few moments gazing at each other, and you use the edge of your nail to trace his beauty marks while you bask in the presence of one another; just you and him, him and you.
leaning up, you capture his lips, something soft and sweet and unhurried that causes your heart to pound against your ribcage. the heart — it can be such a fickle thing, always changing, always setting its sights on shiny, new things. yes, it can be quite fickle, but nothing can dispute the undeniable truth of your eternal, immutable love for yeonjun, and his for you. you may change your routines and what you eat and the tunes you sing, but your love is forever frozen in time. “find me in the future,” is what you once exclaimed to him, and he had done just that — and so, so much more.
despite your exhausted mind, you find yourself craving more. the hardness of his cock presses into your thigh, and you grind slightly into him. he stares down at you, lips parted, silently inquiring if you are okay: are you sure you would like to continue? it's a wordless exchange, the way you reach down to stroke him over his trousers, the cheeky bite of your lip. with that, the mischievous grin he wore previously returns.
“you’re absolutely insatiable,” he laughs, returning his lips to your neck.
“oh, please. you were the one who wanted this in the first place,” you tease back before you’re squealing at the sound of ripping fabric. “yeonjun!”
“i shall mend it later,” he shrugs, eyes darkening as he greedily takes in your now bare bosom. “right now, however, there are much more pressing matters.”
perhaps the pastries can wait a wee bit a longer.
3k event masterlist | main masterlist
© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
#txt smut#yeonjun smut#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#txt imagines#yeonjun imagines#txt fluff#yeonjun fluff#agust.nsfw#3k milestone celebration#💌 — jjun
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Diahann Carroll Vs. Rue McClanahan
Propaganda
Diahann Carroll - (Dynasty, Julia) - God every clip of her on Dynasty is just so iconic, her entrance, the bit where she shades Joan Collins' Alexis for her taste in caviar... "I wanted to be the first black bitch on television" she said, and she did it beautifully!
Rue McClanahan - (Golden Girls, Maude, Mama's Family) - Listen to me. I have never understood celebrity crushes until I first witnessed Rue McClanahan. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen - just look at her!! Gorgeous eyes, the cutest nose, a SPECTACULAR smile - she has this adorable, princess-like quality about her AND she's also a complete hottie AND she's aware of it: she HAS THE RANGE, people!! Her two most famous roles are polar opposites, in fact: she starred in the role of naive, gentle Vivian Cavender-Harmon in Maude (and I mean. Just look her up and tell me that's not an angel!), and then went on to gain even more well-deserved fame and success as the seductive, extroverted Blanche Devereaux in The Golden Girls (a role for which she won an Emmy in 1987 - her amazing, hilarious acceptance speech can be found here: . I should also point out that both of these are comedy characters and she is HILARIOUS as them both - the comedic timing, the delivery, the expressions, she was a comedy queen!!! As for her personal life, she was just a darling - and also very funny in person, not just in her acting roles! She was a staunch supporter of gay rights and a big advocate for same-sex marriage in the US, as well as a vegetarian and a big defender of animal rights. She suffered from illness in her later years which greatly impacted her health, but she was still very active up until her death in 2010, and she even released a wonderful autobiography in 2007 titled "My First Five Husbands... and the Ones Who Got Away". In her interviews she's always gentle, soft-spoken (her voice. dear god. sweet mother Aphrodite I cannot weave I am overcome with gay thoughts), and kind, but also sharp, witty, and just a delight to watch. I could go on forever talking about her honestly. I am actually in love with her and you should be too. She's just the best! Here, have some additional pics: (pics below the cut)
Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket
Additional propaganda below the cut
Diahann Carroll:
Diahann Carroll's First Scene on "Dynasty"
youtube
Rue McClanahan:
The Hottie™ of the Golden Girls, she was definitely a GILF. And her character's shenanigans were Emmy-winning but no less fun and her outfits were always on point and gorgeous, befitting her perfectly.
she!!!
as Vivian, with her fellow hottie Bea Arthur as Maude
as Blanche - look at those eyes!!!
come on, tell me you wouldn't do anything for that smile, I dare you
in her contract she specifically requested to be given all of Blanche's clothes and SHE WAS RIGHT
Okay so first of all. Rue has this way of moving around and looking at you that just-- I mean, I'm ace, but I *get* the allos. She's hot and she knows it (and she plays a character in The Golden Girls who's in her 50s, hot, and knows it as well. Which, talk about perfect casting??) But I'm mostly here to talk about the fact that she said this in her Emmy acceptance speech (paraphrased because I'm sharing the video with the right timestamp, and you should absolutely watch up until 3:40, because her delivery is UNMATCHED): "My mother said to me once [...] 'Oh, Eddi-Rue, for heaven's sake. Don't you know every kick's a boost?' There've been a lot of kicks, and there've been a lot of boosts. I'm not going to mention the people who gave me kicks... but you know who you are. And you'll be in the book." (Seriously though, do yourself a favour and watch that video. She's amazing!!) She said this, and proceeded to WRITE THE BOOK, titled "My first five husbands, and the ones who got away", which is *incredibly* funny, and such an earnest look into her life. She opens the acknowledgements with "This book is about my life and experiences as I lived them, and anyone who doesn't like it can jolly well lump it." And I mean... she's awesome. I could go on.
Rue McClanahan @ The Emmy Awards 1987
youtube
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24. "Slower. I want to make this last." + Carlos
You're on top of him and he's been looking at you with a mixture of awe and desire for the past minutes. And if should be too much. The depth of his desire you can see plainly cross his handsome face, but instead you find yourself craving it whenever he does end up looking down.
You cup his face after one of those times, intent to make him look at you as you fall apart on top of his dick and it seems to do the trick. His hands, strong and sure, come to rest on your bare hips where he slowly sucked hickeys into the skin when he first went down on you that night. They ache pleasantly beneath his touch. Remind you of the heights of pleasure he took you to with his tongue and fingers.
You shudder just thinking about it.
"Look at you," Carlos whispers, voice hoarse. Like it was ripped out of him involuntarily. You know the feeling. How unbelievable it is sometimes that he's yours. To touch and kiss and fuck. The same way you're his.
There's no place you'd rather be than here right now, sitting comfortably in his lap. The moon outside your opened window the only witness to what you're doing. Chasing pleasure for yourself as you are.
Sighing shakily, you brace your hands on his chest. That way you gain a little more leverage as you lift your hips. He lets out a quiet groan of his own, beautiful brown eyes fluttering shut. You already miss them. How he easily stripped you bare with just one look. You'd do anything he asked of you, the way his eyes always darkened that tad more reward enough as it is.
He allows you to go at your own pace, hands slackening around your hips. Your pace is slow at first, but you gain momentum in little time. Delighting in the way your skin sounds slapping against his. How good he feels filling you like that. He fits snugly into you and it's a blissful feeling.
His grip tightens at some point, a warning his dark eyes. You're used to it, the way he wants to savour it, feel you move up and down his dick until you're dripping.
"Slower," he says, demands, like you expected him to. Then you're whimpering, the sound quiet amidst the blood rushing into your head when he pushes you down and into the sheets. Blankets you with his body, wide chest so damn warm on top of you before he leans back a bit. One of his hands moves over your thigh and to your chest. He thumbs over your nipple. Teases the tender peak with a mean scrape of his nail. Your toes curl.
"I want to make this last," he adds, voice sounding distant, like he's lost in the image of you bared beneath him. The way your body so easily accepts him when he slips back in. Like you're made to be filled by him. Made to be fucked and kissed by Carlos only.
You eagerly melt into the kiss he draws you in and then he pulls one of your legs over his hips to be even closer.
It's easy surrendering to him when he knows exactly what you want with every snap of his hips.
#f1 smut#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz jr imagine#carlos sainz jr fic#**prompts#**mine#hope u like it !#first time writing him and hmm he is giving control freak even in bed#which is hot icl
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as a major fan of your Thai BL list, I shall now ask about your Korean BLs! 🤩
I think I can actually trust you 😌😌
Anon Two, thanks for tag-teaming this with the previous Anon, so y'all could squeeze another list out of me. To recap, I've already given y'all:
Top GMMTV Actors
Top GMMTV Pairs
Top Five Taiwanese BLs
Top Ten Thai BLs
So what's one more? @lachikapercebe also asked for this list, but requested only my top five; however, since I already started the list without a specific target number from Anon Two, and Korea gives some of the best confessions in the genre mixed with color coding, I can't reduce the list now. It's too late for me to trim it. I am attached to each pick. They are my children, and I can't desert them, so . . .
Top Ten Korean BLs
Rising Star - Love Tractor
I don't trust Korean BLs. A majority are too short, so either the beginning is confusing or the ending is flat, but unless Love Tractor completely fumbles the second half (which it could because . . . Korea), this will be a yearly top and even possibly an overall top for its country and all BLs. It's that good to me. It's hitting all the normal K-drama notes while being oh-so-very-gay. And as a rural queer, it pleases my soul to see country life presented in such a kind and beautiful way.
#10 - Roommates of Poongduck 304
Mr. Petty Peter Jae Yoon independently earned a spot on this list. Ho Joon was a jerk and a true nemesis when the show began, but Jae Yoon started effing up Ho Joon's home life the more Ho Joon kept messing up his work life, so it was a beautiful tit-for-tat the first few episodes; then, Ho Joon lost focus and wanted a consensual workplace relationship. His father appreciating his new attitude and rejection of his ladies' man ways was a delight to witness since we all knew it was due to him falling in love with a man. And oh boy did he fall in love. That entire conversation of Jae Yoon saying it's impossible for two men to fall in love, only for Ho Joon to respond that it was impossible for him NOT to fall in love with Jae Yoon is a top tier confession for me.
#9 - Blueming
I have issues with Blueming solely due to its ending because I was just as pissed as Siwon was at Daun. Maybe even more so. All was going well; then, the end of episode nine pulled a Thai episode eleven, and DAUN TOLD HIS MOM TO PICK THE FILM! I understand men in love do dumb shit, but that was a bold choice, and a very, very, VERY wrong one. As the youths say, "that was not the move." However, the cinematography was delicious like their silhouettes with that bewitching blue backdrop and their first kiss was realistic. Pretty kisses are cool and all, but the awkwardness of desperately wanting someone yet not knowing how to physically perform is true to many people's experiences and should be spotlighted more.
#8 - Choco Milk Shake
I only trust two entities with poly: Thai director Jojo, and Korea's Strongberry, so the fact that Strongberry did not give me poly when it was so clearly laid out is the reason this show isn't in the top three. It had a supernatural plot, great characters who were all well cast, and a happy ending, so WHY NOT POLY? I don't care if the rest of the world is ready or not. I'M READY! We are getting a second season, so if I if get a kiss AND a vocal acknowledgement of Milk and Choco's love for each other when their love for Jung Woo was well established in season one, this will cement its place in my heart and on this list forever.
#7 - Light on Me
Sixteen episodes with most running about thirty minutes?! A love triangle where I could root for both love interests?! A straight boy who earned his spot at the queer table?! Light on Me had it all and then some! Looking at my various lists, it's clear I am not fond of high school dramas, yet I was seated twice a week to see how our neurodivergent baby boy, Tae Kyung, fared that week in his adventure through social norms and annoyances, like trying to help a fellow peer by giving him back the dildo he dropped in the hallway, but getting yelled at instead. I was not Team Shin Woo until that cellphone confession, and then all I could see was Shin Woo. I'm telling y'all, Korea understands how to confess its unwavering love. Gets me every time!
#6 - The New Employee
As the BL fandom continues to evolve and expand, we will get more BLs geared toward adults and workplace dramas, but hopefully, they take the approach that The New Employee (and Thailand's Step by Step) did and make the work environment part of the drama. Working adults, sadly, spend a majority of their time at work, so finding love at one's job seems reasonable, but if anyone has experienced coworkers breaking up, that shit can get rough, real quick. So having to navigate a relationship with someone you work with, especially someone of a higher authority position, ON TOP OF being queer can be stressful, and is something I want more BLs to explore. There are levels to being out, and for most queers, being out at the job is not a possibility, but finding love anywhere is always a possibility, particularly for our late 20-something virgins.
#5 - Semantic Error
The fact that this came out in 2022 is beyond my understanding only because it seems like I have appreciated it for at least five years. This has become a comfort watch when it first started as a "nothing else is on" watch. I have never cared so much about honorifics in my life as I did watching the slow transition of Sang Woo’s emotional walls crumbling under Jae Young’s affection through language. As much as I hated the idea of forced collaboration (aka group projects), seeing the way Jae Young squirmed his way into Sang Woo’s every waking thought and had him seeing red to the point that Sang Woo was saving screenshots of Jae Young’s Instagram posts was a delight and one of the major reasons I keep returning to it. But the layered confession about Sang Woo finding Jae Young, a man, attractive which lead to Jae Young's countdown kiss is, once again, the reason Korean BLs win in the confession department.
#4 - The Eighth Sense
I'm still really bothered by some of the discourse that came out of this show about how it was better than everything else ever because the comments were reductive about the BL genre, yet some of the comments resonated with elements I loved about the series, mainly its look at mental health and trauma. It was a beautiful show, but the message it carried throughout about depression being isolating and taking the light out of people's lives hit me in a way that if this was the Thai list, I would have left it off because it felt like a personal attack. Wanting someone to save you from yourself, but terrified to drag them down with you was not the plot I wanted, but was the story a lot of us needed to see. We also needed to witness someone actively going to therapy. Let's continue this trend!
#3 - Our Dating Sim
"Have you been well . . . without me?" - Put this on my tombstone because I died and came back to life from this utterance alone. Episode four was already killing me, but once Eddy snapped and allowed all his emotions to spill out in front of Ian, the show came for all my past lives and future ones too. Deceased. I wrote this about the show while it was airing, but no other show has done the leave-him-because-I-love-him plot as well as Our Dating Sim. This show nailed it then made a billboard to boast about it because it was perfection. Ian's reasons for leaving were valid, but the show really shined by allowing Eddy to voice his anger at being ghosted for seven years by his best friend and someone he loved. It even touched on the trust issues that stem from someone saying he loves you only to abandon you. Just know I have NOT been well since this ended.
#2 - To My Star 1 & 2
The first season was almost perfect. The cat/dog energy, the "If it's hard for you, I'll come to you" confession, and the budding kink of Ji Woo kissing a tiny bloody wound on Seo Joon all served in a quick nine episodes gave me everything I needed, so I thought this would be my #1 the second season two was announced, but understand the sequel hurt me. The foundation was great: everyone came back, it had more episodes, the episodes were longer, and the conflict always existed in the first series, so a last-minute twist wasn’t invented. Yet, every single episode hurt. Much like I Told Sunset About You, it was realistic to the point that I expected it to end with pain. If season two was its own show and not a sequel to one of my favorites, it would have ranked higher because it was beautiful, but knowing the magic the first series possessed, and having to be a bystander to all the angst for EVERY EPISODE WITH NO RELIEF was tough. But, somehow, here I am secretly hoping we get blessed with a third series. That’s the power of the Star.
#1 - Long Time No See
Small flex - I've been involved with an international queer film festival for over a decade. I've seen easily over 1,000 pieces of queer media including feature films, short films, and documentaries through the screening process, which only adds to my always growing personal watched list. Long Time No See was one of those films. It didn't make it into the festival because I think it was already available on a streaming platform (maybe?), but it was a top for me then, and it's still a top for me now. Is it a BL? Not really. Is it a show? No, it's more like a two-part movie. So why am I allowing it to reign at the top of this list? BECAUSE IT IS AMAZING! In 2017, we were still getting the bury your gays trope shoved down our throats, so a film about two assassins getting a happy ending was a miracle. I read comments from some who did not like the portrayal of "toxic love" but were probably fine with Mr. and Mrs. Smith beating each other with cooking utensils for all the world's children to see, so God forbid, the queers do anything like want to kill AND fuck each other. Niña, Pinta, and Santa María, LET THE GAYS DO CRIMES TOO! Oh, and it's Strongberry, so because of this film - In Strongberry I trust.
#top korean bls#long time no see#to my star#our dating sim#the eighth sense#semantic error#the new employee#light on me#choco milk shake#blueming#roommates of poongduck 304#love tractor#korean bls#in strongberry we trust
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𝙇ᡣ𐭩𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠
Chapter 3: Confession
A/N: Okay I made a final decision to cut this chapter and just rewrite the other stuff as the next chapter but deepest apologies for disappearing. I now have a ton of time especially around May to July. Anyways I don't really like this chapter but hopefully you guys do.
@myrunawaysweets @roxxie-wolf I FORGOT TO PING YOU GUYS SORRY BUT HERE
╭─────── ۪۫ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎.` ───────╮
"God I'm so lovesick."
╰─────── ۪۫ ❁ཻུ۪۪⸙͎.` ───────╯
As the morning's splendor unfolded, the mellifluous songs of birds greeted your ears, heralding the imminent ascent of the radiant sun into the boundless azure sky. With a languorous stretch, you rose from your slumber and made your way to the window, where a gentle zephyr caressed your skin, carrying with it the sweet anticipation that swelled within your heart for your rendezvous with Alastor, the man who monopolized your thoughts, rendering you a veritable dreamer.
Entering the lavatory, you indulged in a warm, effervescent bath, accompanied by opulent accoutrements that left your skin plump and aglow. Clad in a sumptuous robe, you proceeded to your vanity chamber, lavishing further care upon your complexion with an array of extravagant elixirs, leaving your countenance unadorned by makeup for the time being.
Venturing into your wardrobe, resplendent with garments of silk, chiffon, and lace, you meticulously selected from an array of heels, sandals, and boots, alongside a trove of accessories nestled within the drawers. Each ensemble was scrutinized with fastidious attention, until your gaze alighted upon a resplendent scarlet gown that captivated your discerning eye, evoking thoughts of Alastor and his signature crimson motif.
Donning the elegant yet understated attire, paired with crimson footwear and ruby-hued embellishments, you returned to the vanity, where you deftly coaxed every unruly strand of hair into submission, fashioning it into a winsome style. With a delicate brush dipped in rosy pigment, you imparted a flush of color to your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, before applying a coat of ravishing red lipstick that accentuated your features.
As you beheld your reflection with a mixture of satisfaction and awe, a discreet rap upon your door interrupted your reverie. With purse in hand, you hastened downstairs, and to your delight, found Alastor awaiting you.
As Alastor led you through the bustling city streets, the morning sun cast a warm glow over everything, illuminating the beauty of the architecture around you. The gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh pastries from nearby bakeries, mingling with the sound of distant chatter and the occasional honk of a car horn.
"Where are we going though, Alastor?" you inquired, curiosity piqued by the mystery of the day ahead. Alastor hummed a tune, his arm linked with yours as he guided you forward. "I plan to take you to many places, my dear, but first, I'd love to show you a spot that holds a special place in my heart."
Soon, you arrived at a two-story building, and Alastor led you inside to his radio station. The familiar sight of broadcasting equipment and the buzz of activity brought back memories of childhood visits with your father. "This is truly wonderful, Alastor. But are you here to broadcast something?" you asked, intrigued by the thought of witnessing a live broadcast.
Alastor chuckled, moving towards his desk and picking up a small gift box. "No, my dear, I simply needed to retrieve something I left here. Now, shall we continue our date?"
Throughout the rest of the day, Alastor took you to various sights around the city, each one more enchanting than the last. You explored quaint shops, admired stunning works of art, and even indulged in a bit of shopping, with Alastor insisting on treating you to a few lovely items.
As the day drew to a close, you found yourselves at a luxurious restaurant, the perfect setting for a romantic dinner. The ambiance was elegant, with soft lighting and the faint sound of classical music in the background. As you both settled in and ordered your meals, you took a moment to admire the setting, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
"So, this is quite a fine establishment, Alastor. What made you choose such a place?" you inquired, genuinely curious about his thought process. Alastor glanced at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I simply wanted to treat my darling to the best," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection.
As the evening progressed, you found yourself lost in conversation with Alastor, each moment spent with him feeling more magical than the last. Despite the initial awkwardness, you couldn't deny the connection you felt with him, a connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.
As the culinary indulgence reached its conclusion, Alastor, with a dignified grace, presented the gift box procured earlier in the day. "I have something for you, my dear," he uttered, his voice a mellifluous symphony to your ears. Your heart danced a euphoric waltz as he drew near, a sense of anticipation tingling in the air. With a deft motion, he gently fastened the necklace around your neck, its exquisite craftsmanship radiating an ethereal allure. Overwhelmed with gratitude, you beheld the adornment with awe. "Oh, Alastor, this is..." Your words trailed off in wonderment as he bestowed a tender kiss upon your hand, a gesture laden with unspoken sentiment. With a flourish of gallantry, he attended to the bill, leaving you to bask in the warmth of his affection and the splendor of your new treasure.
As the night came to an end, Alastor walked you home, the glow of the streetlights casting a soft, romantic light over the scene. As you said your goodbyes, Alastor leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in a gentle, lingering kiss. "I’m afraid I can’t escort you back home tonight my dear so. Until next time, my dear," he whispered, his voice filled with promise and longing.
As you watched him walk away, a sudden outburst came through you. “Wait Alastor!” and just in luck he paused turned back and smiled at you “What is it my dear?” heavily breathing and shaking you found yourself to finally speak out what you’ve wanted to say. “I love you.”
Sudden silence came as he had then walked toward you, as he towered over you a hand suddenly cupped your cheek as his lips met yours. You felt light now, out of instinct you had held his face as well as your other hand placed onto his chest as he held you by the waist.
His lips were warm against yours, igniting a fire within you that you had never felt before. Every touch, every caress sent shivers down your spine, electrifying your senses in a way you had never experienced. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of intimacy.
As the kiss deepened, you felt yourself losing control, surrendering completely to the overwhelming emotions that coursed through your body. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, lost in the passion and desire that consumed you both.
#hazbin hotel#hazbinhotel#alastor#hazbin#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin alastor#radio demon#alastor x reader#fluff#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor smut#human alastor x reader#hazbin fandom#hazbin fanfic#laufey lovesick#lovesick
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For the AU requests, could you maybe do Sanji X Reader (Teacher X Teacher), where Sanji’s the Home Ec teacher, and the Reader is the new teacher who just started working at the school? Maybe with some teacher’s lounge flirting?
YES MORE FICS FOR SANJI 💗
𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓!(𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐮)
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞
In the bustling hallways of Grandline High School, a new face emerged that captivated the hearts of the faculty. Y/N, a radiant and compassionate teacher specializing in special education, possessed an aura that illuminated the school with warmth and intelligence. Her gentle demeanor and exceptional teaching skills made her an instant favorite among both students and colleagues.Among the smitten admirers was Sanji, the charismatic cooking class and kick boxing instructor. With his charming grin, Sanji found himself drawn to Y/N's every move. He discreetly left small gifts on her desk, offered to guide her through the labyrinthine campus, and couldn't resist flirting with her whenever the opportunity arose. One afternoon, as the teachers gathered in the lounge for a break, Y/N engaged in a lively conversation with Nami, the geology teacher. Sanji's eyes sparkled with adoration as he watched Y/N interact with her colleagues. Unable to contain his feelings, he approached her with a mischievous smile.'Excuse me, mademoiselle,' Sanji began, his voice dripping with charm. 'Your beauty is as radiant as the sun, and your mind as sharp as a knife. May I have the honor of taking you on a date?'Y/N chuckled at Sanji's bold request, but her heart skipped a beat. She had noticed his persistent attention and couldn't deny her own attraction to him. 'Why, Mr. Sanji,' she replied with a coy smile, 'I'd be delighted.' Nami, who had witnessed the entire exchange, couldn't resist teasing Sanji. 'Oh, Sanji, you're so smooth,' she said with a playful punch to his arm. 'But I must warn you, Y/N is a force to be reckoned with. If you break her heart, I'll break your nose.' Sanji's nose erupted in a dramatic gush of blood, but he only laughed and declared, 'Nami-san, your beauty is as intoxicating as the finest wine. Even with a broken nose, I would still be the luckiest man alive to have Y/N by my side.'
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
We love our girl Nami 💗
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Devastation. It can be a terrible thing. It can be a beautiful thing. It can be despair. It can be love. It can be a revelation. It can be the moment you understand that everything has changed, that there is no way back in any true way. Devastation is profound, inescapable change. Will you, too, experience it one day? Perhaps you'll see it coming; perhaps you'll try to outrun it. Perhaps it will strike swiftly, so suddenly a thing that you never expected it at all. No matter. Devastation simply is. It shall come when it comes.
Devastation (they/any), Edeia of Devastation.
An Edeia I've been thinking about for a while! Their main story exists in the Calamity Continuity, a different timeline of the Ideation universe where physical reality collapsed, leaving only Abstractions for all beings to exist in.
Edeia Site | Edeia Discord | Personal Website
Name: Devastation
Idea: Devastation
Gender: None
Pronouns: they/any
Masterlist: #445
About
Devastation — Vast for short — is, perhaps surprisingly, gentle. They enjoy the little happenings of existence: flowers growing out of the cracks, rain on a sunny day. They enjoy the "present" and whatever delights it can give, but at the same time believe in the transience of it. They experience the world with the thought that anything and everything could be lost in a single moment. When they do experience loss, they do not quite mourn; they simply accept it, and continue moving onward. So it is the same with friendships and other connections: they love, and truly can love wonderfully, but do so without attachment.
They give "cold comfort" not infrequently. They might offer to one who has or will experience devastation a gentle caress, a hug, a little song, someone to talk to. They might say such things as, "Time washes all things away, good and terrible;" "All shall return to dust, in the end;" "The future is unknown, and shall become what you make of it." For those who have yet to experience devastation, their company may be both a blessing and a curse: an omen of impending, inescapable change, yet also a reassurance that they will make it to the other side. Some have attacked them in rage, some have wailed in grief, some cling to them in denial and fear of what shall come. Devastation will give their cold comfort, and devastation will come, in the end.
Each moment of devastation they are able to experience or witness is profound for them. They see them as beautifully terrible, terribly beautiful things. The emotions they feel might compare to religious ecstasy, and they cherish and commit to memory each moment they know. At the same time, they are in no hurry to rush these moments — they are content to watch them come as they will. If another Edeia or powerful being tries to interfere in these moments, however, then Devastation may try to shield the sequence of events leading up to them from other influence.
Abilities
The Impending
A form of prescience. Devastation can sense potential devastating events all across the universe, with the sense having a stronger intensity the closer it is physically and the more definite its likelihood of occurring. As Devastation focuses, they can begin to perceive the threads of possibility to see how events might unfold, leading up to, during, and after the moment of devastation.
The Inescapable
Devastation can "plant" a dream consciousness within an individual who is likely to experience devastation in the future. This dream consciousness is a temporarily independent, parallel entity that can observe and interact with that individual, both in their dreams and as waking "hallucinations." The dream consciousness can remain with the individual throughout crossing time, dimensions, etc., and after the moment of devastation passes, the dream consciousness can disperse. Any memories experienced by the dream consciousnesses become part of Devastation's subconscious or deeper memory — if they think about it, they can access the memories, but otherwise, they are not affected from moment to moment. The closer the event of devastation, the more powerful the dream consciousness becomes.
Depending on the individual, they may or may not be aware of having Devastation's presence in their mind. This ability can work on Edeia, though Edeia can banish the dream consciousness if they try.
Prior to the Calamity, Devastation needed to be in proximity to an individual to use this ability. After the Calamity, their powers grew to become able to transcend the borders of Abstractions, though in that case they can only plant a dream consciousness if the devastating event is nearly certain to occur, and not too far off in the future.
The Inexorable
Devastation can protect certain threads of possibility from interference from other Edeia and supernatural beings, in order to ensure certain events unfold the way they expect. The extent of the protection may vary and may only be partially effective against other Edeia.
The Profound
Devastation can grant abilities, augmentations, and other magical influences to those who have experienced devastation. The more intense the emotion, the more powerful the effect.
History
Before Actualization
Devastation's home is in the Calamity Continuity of Ideation. They were born of a human and a demon from another dimension around the 1600s, though their birth parent did not know the other was possessed. They were given the name Vena, and were raised as a human child. As magic was part of the world, when Vena started to show inhuman characteristics, their birth parent thought that they were manifestations of the potential to become an Edeia. However, Vena showed no sign of learning any particular kind of magic, and Sam — their birth parent — questioned their father, who simply suggested that it was a more subtle manifestation.
Vena grew rapidly, having the appearance and mentality of a teenager when they were around ten years old. Eventually, conflict came to their door, and their father revealed his true form to fight off the threat. Sam by then had put together some guesses, and asked what their father truly was. For a moment, he hesitated, and then he braced himself and told Vena's mother his origins: though his body was called Alba, he was truly a demon who went by Katasa.
Here, Vena witnessed a moment of devastation for the first time. Sam's face crumpled, and he demanded to know if everything was a lie. Katasa denied this, stating that he truly does care for him and their child. That Sam was the one who taught him how to love — that it had changed him. And Vena realized — that must have been a powerful moment, despite happening so long ago. This was the moment that Vena's Idea began to take form.
Their parents sorted things out, and things went well for a time. However, the world was not a gentle one, and one day some ill-willed members of their village decided to try attacking Vena for their strange appearance — which had grown ever stranger so as to be entirely and obviously inhuman. Vena struck back, and accidentally killed several of their attackers. The remaining fled, at first, and Vena rushed home with a heavy feeling in their heart, telling their parents what happened. Their parents decided that they needed to leave, and so they fled.
"We can find a Sanctuary," Katasa said. "I've heard about them. We'll be completely safe there."
Unfortunately, it was not to be. An Edeia who sought to balance the scales of justice and death found them before they could find a Sanctuary. Katasa defended them, but could not effectively defend against the Edeia's idea magic. Vena stepped forward, drawing up the power they had felt growing in them, only — they didn't actually know how to wield their power in battle, and Sam jumped in front of them to take a hit for them. Katasa fell into despair as he watched Sam perish, his wail of grief reverberating in the air. And, oh, oh, how horrible. Devastation struck Vena deeply as they suddenly understood: one of their parents was dead, and the other was likely to soon follow. What a powerful feeling, in themself and their father. The feeling seemed to grow and pour out of them; by instinct, their magic reached for Katasa and augmented his power immensely. He struck back at the Edeia, and was able to disperse them. However, his body took far too much damage, and he settled beside Sam's body to weep.
When Vena approached him, Katasa screamed at them with the force of his demonic power — blaming them for Sam's death, demanding to know why they couldn't save him, too. He wailed and cried, and Vena simply reached over to rub his back — to which Katasa only cried harder. Eventually, Katasa calmed down some, and he turned to Vena and hugged them. "It's not your fault," he said. "I didn't mean that. We should have left before. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Then, his body began to fall apart. Katasa continued to apologize, saying that he didn't know what would become of him from here — for his species of demon, to possess nothing is to have no ego. He would disappear, and did not know if he would remember them in his next host.
Vena shed a tear for him, and for Sam. "I understand," they said. "Goodbye."
Katasa's body crumbled away, leaving only Vena with Sam's body. They closed their eyes and felt that crushing weight of devastation. Everything has changed, and there is no going back. How terrible. How beautiful. They felt something shift within them, and with one breath in and one breath out, Vena Actualized into Devastation.
After Actualization
Devastation gave Sam and what remained of Katasa a burial, observing the funerary rites they knew of before letting them go, departing without a backwards glance. They began to seek out moments of devastation, using their power to sense the potential of one occurring. For centuries, they sought these moments, meeting and parting with countless others along the way.
Then, they began to sense the potential of a profoundly devastating event, potentially affecting almost all denizens of the universe. It was strange — what could possibly affect so many individuals to such an intense degree? Devastation looked deeper as time went on, and soon foresaw the end of the world. They shook with something like anticipation. What could come of the end of the world? Where would all these lives go? How would they adjust to such a profound change of reality? Devastation began to seek out those who would be most involved and most affected (in an emotional sense, mostly) by such an event, planting their dream consciousnesses all across the universe.
Devastation foretold the apocalypse in dreams and "hallucinations" — less of a warning and more of a promise. They comforted those who would accept their cold comfort; they told the harsh truth to those who would listen. Many did not believe Devastation, whether they knew Devastation was an Edeia or they thought they had started hallucinating. Still, the Calamity was inexorable; Devastation barely even touched those threads of possibility, as they were converging upon the end of the world on their own.
When the moment came, Devastation stayed to watch. They lifted their hands to the collapsing sky, witnessing everything falling apart and burning it into their memory. The end of the world. How beautiful. How devastating. They wept tears of light, though they were not of sorrow — only of the profundity of such devastation.
After the Calamity
Many people and some Edeia remember their dreams and visions of Devastation; some thought they were at fault, while others understood that it was a complicated process of various factors that led to the Calamity. Devastation did not particularly care. They simply opened up their Abstraction to any who would come, and would wander to others' Abstractions wherever they were welcome.
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Irene's Delights ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Fluff)
[Masterlist] [Taglist]
Summary: After Tommy disappears from a party, she goes out to find him
Note: Written for K @runnning-outof-time s floral 3K celebration! I hope you enjoy
All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.
Warning: mention of war, PTSD
Wordcount: 1868 words
~
She was glad to leave the stuffy air and noise behind.
Not that she was a bore, but the Shelbys and their closest friends were a loud and merry bunch, quick to laugh, drink, sing, cheer, scream, shout and celebrate until there was little left of the music to hear.
Most of the Shelbys that was. But not the one she sought most.
She had thought she had seen him slip out through the terrasse door a little while ago and when he hadn’t returned since, she thought that was her safest bet.
The night air was crisp but the night starless, with only the moon standing as a proud witness high above the usually so peaceful countryside.
Even tonight the luscious plains, large trees and gentle springs swallowed all sound of the celebration with gracious ease as only a few paces further down the terrace, she could hear the stone under her heels.
She searched in the darkness for the familiar red glow of his cigarette, for the sound of footsteps, for his voice calling out to her but was disappointed on all counts.
“Tommy?”, she called as she rubbed the goosebumps on her arms.
“Tommy, are you still out there?”
“Yes.”
The simple, soft spoken answer came closer than she would have thought, barely a few feet away from the edges of their garden.
Her mistake had been looking on eye-level, searching for a man standing or leaning, not laying down in the damp grass, suit, leather shoes and all.
Even now he made no attempt of getting to his feet, and so it was up to her to make her way to him.
Once she had thought that any green that belonged to a house was a garden, but that was before all this. Now they had gardens, several, and grounds, but amidst and above all that they still had a garden, their garden, where she planted and tended to some vegetables and the odd flower, although the gardeners were far more talented than she could ever hope to be.
This little speck of land couldn’t compare to the vast beauty of the rose garden, but still Tommy had chosen this of all places.
“And is there any reason why you’ve been out here all night?”, she asked, half amused, half irritated. “You’ll end up catching a cold!”
He only huffed in response, his skin turned to silver by the moon.
“What if you get sick, hm, what then?”, she asked, knowing the answer.
He would refuse to admit it to himself, making any and every symptom worse in the process only for him to collapse at the foot of the mountain of his own ambition, rendering him completely bedridden for a few days, finally submitting to the doctor’s advice after refusing to even hear of it for the preceding days.
They had played that game before, and every time they repeated each move.
Best to avoid the match all together it seemed.
“I’ll be fine, love.”, Tommy promised, as he always did.
But he didn’t sound fine, not that he sounded sick either. Just…strange.
“Won’t you come back inside?”, she asked.
“No.”, he replied, his gaze firmly locked on the skies.
“Not even to have a dance with me?”, she tried to coax with a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“Not tonight, love.”, he replied.
She sighed, glancing from him to the house where his family was still celebrating to the utmost possability.
“Well, it’s a little rude to leave your family and your guests unattended. I’m sure they’re missing you.”
After all, it was his brother’s wedding and they were hosting it at their home.
“You think?”, Tommy asked, sneering almost.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”, she asked, feeling a different cold to the one of the night air.
At first his only response was a deep and long sigh and when she crouched down next to him, she could see a strange look in his eyes.
“Tommy?”, she asked, stroking his cheek.
“I’m sure they’re just fine without me there. Probably happier in my absence.”, he grumbled.
“Why would you say that?”, she asked. “Surely not because of Linda…”
She was a strange choice for Arthur, for any one of them really, and she wasn’t easy to like. For that she was too forthcoming, too smiley, just too much - too much to be believed truly genuine.
But Tommy had made every background check possible to man and found nothing, and she made Arthur happy, and better to, so this was it. As of 11:34 this morning, Linda was a Shelby, a change celebrated at their house, although not everyone had adhered to her request to have no alcohol served apart from one celebratory toast of champagne.
“It’s not Linda.”, Tommy mumbled, shaking his head just slightly. “It’s not her…”
His words ended in a long near neverending sigh.
“What is it, Tommy?”, she asked again.
“Nothing, I’m just tired.”, he groaned. “You go back inside, eh? They’ll be missing you.”
“And they won’t miss you?”, she asked.
It had been meant as a joke, with half a smile, but to Tommy that wasn’t it.
“I doubt it.”
“Why would you say that?”, she asked, a chill running down her back that had nothing to do with the way the wind made the rose bush leaves whisper.
Tommy reached up and ran the palm over his hand over his temple, clearly not wanting to answer her question, but she wasn’t about to let this go.
“Tommy, what are you talking about? They are our family, of course they want you there.”
“They’ll say that.”, he agreed, and she was surprised to see resignation and not bitterness in his eyes. “And then, when I’m around, they act differently., because it is like that when I’m around. it’s different.”
“Tommy-”
She wanted to tell him that it was not true, that it was only his imagination but she couldn’t deny that there was truth to his words.
“Don’t try.”, Tommy told her, while she was still searching for something to say, something soothing and meaningful. “You know what it was like before.”
There was only one true ‘before’ in the life of Tommy Shelby, in the life of them all, and so there was no need for further explanation.
“Of course that changed things, but it changed it for us all, and not just for you.”, she tried to soothe.
“But it is different with me.”, Tommy insisted, sitting up as if he had been bitten by a snake, his pale eyes piercing in the darkness of their little garden.
“Because I was the one who was put in charge, I was the one giving orders, me - saying who would go, and where. Not John, not Arthur. I had to make the choices and I haven’t stopped since.”
She reached for him in an attempt to soothe.
“But it’s not like that anymore. You are not their Sergeant Major anymore.”,
“Am I not?”, he asked, his voice thick with the weight of his thoughts, and the heaviness of his heart.
It was enough to shatter her own.
“Sweetheart - “, she whispered, her hand finding the side of his face.
It was cold to the touch and slightly damp from where his silver skin had been caressed by the grass.
“You are doing what you are doing to protect this family. They know that.”
He averted his eyes, no longer able to stand both her touch and her gaze.
“I am not saying your worry and concern is unwarranted.”, she began slowly, “but you cannot place all that responsibility at your feet, Tommy. We are all adults.”
He only huffed in response and so she tried once more to lighten his mood as she stroked her thumb over his cheek.
“Besides, now Arthur is officially primarily Linda’s problem.”
Tommy’s eyes fluttered shut. “He’ll always be my problem.”
“And you will always be his.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but then only sighed, dropping his head.
“Oh my love!”, she said, moving closer and thereby kneeling on the grass herself to allow herself the stability of pulling him close.
“Watch your dress!”, Tommy reminded her. “The grass will stain it.”
He had a point; she was wearing a dress, the same colour of the Irene’s Delight roses when they were in full bloom, it was a gentle pink color, a soft, almost whimsical thing, that wouldn’t stand a chance against the assault of the damp green grass.
“Then I’ll scrub it out.”
It wasn’t a reason to deter her from leaning into him.
A frown appeared on Tommy’s face as he took her hand in his.
One could have thought that years of paperwork and pen pushing would have softened, but the rope and chalk had gotten under his skin in more ways than one.
And yet that roughness was strangely comforting to her. It hadn’t come by hardship, not truly, but rather from hundreds of hours of horsemanship, and to Tommy Shelby there was no greater joy this world could provide.
He turned her hand in his and ran his thumb over her palm.
“You’re not doing any scrubbing with those hands, you hear me?”, he grumbled. “What do you think we have maids for?”
“It won’t kill me.”, she argued, pulling her hand back.
Still, Tommy’s frown only ever seemed to deepen.
“Oh Sweetheart!”, she sighed with a smile.
He had so much resting on his shoulders, and always added more weight. Her dress and her hands were the last thing he ought to worry about, the last thing to warrant even a hint of concern,
And so she reached over and cupped his face, bringing his head down to rest on her lap with gentle force.
As soon as he realized her intention, he leaned into her, and when she began to run her fingers through the strands of his hair, he closed his eyes, finally relenting and melting into her touch.
With every stroke, with every caress, the frowns seemed to lessen, and with that, she hoped, his worries.
As she let her hand find a rhythm caressing his hair, she lifted her eyes, seeing the pale moonlight play tricks on the shapes of their garden.
It was a little chaotic, a little unkempt compared to the rest of this mansion of theirs, but it was theirs, and she far preferred these few square feet compared to the vast luxury of the other gardens.
As peaceful as it was, she couldn’t help but think of the war.
It had been a cut in all their lives, changing them all, no matter if they went to the front or remained at home, even if she had no scars to show for it.
So did Tommy, beyond those tattoos and the scars that marked those years away from home.
Some she could see or feel or sense but others were buried so deep within him she could only suspect their existence, and yet they shaped every day, every action, maybe even every thought.
But he was back, he was home and he was hers.
That alone made them luckier than most.
~
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!
@runnning-outof-time congratulations once more on your incredible celebration! I hope you are having a lot of fun and of course that you enjoyed this little something I wrote for you! xx
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