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ppumeonae-bigvibe · 2 days

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cherry on top

↖ navigation: seventeen masterlist || main masterlist

pairing: bf! seventeen ot13 x gn! reader

↬ tags: established relationship? yes!, kissing mentioned (hehe!), quite wholesome, my list my rules!, reader uses lipsticks (not implied, but a regular user of lipsticks/ tints/ gloss)

summary: seventeen buying reader lipstick!

𐙚 those who know which color suits you, even your favorite types 𐙚

ᯓ★ seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu, myungho

the sister-havers are understandable: they have sisters for siblings so they would know a thing or two (before you jump at me, yes i do know vernon and seungkwan have sisters so hear me out); and whereas for minghao? i'm so sure my man is born a fashionista so makeup would be easy for him; and for seungcheol i think that clip of him explaining the different perfumes/ cologne is enough for me to put him here

you don't have to tell them: they would be able to pick a similar or the exact shade right off the bat just by looking at your lips; call it unexplained hidden knack or that special eye for choosing makeup products

purposely (sneakily) grabs you by the chin to kiss you full on the lips just to see how good the product works; love love loves to watch you put on makeup and would gaze at you as you went about your business

bonus if they know color theory, or suggest different shades they think might look good on you (and i'm certain it will)

"you like it?" you swiped a sheen layer of gloss on your lips, before turning to your smitten boyfriend for approval. he does a once over, smile widening at the sight of you. he pulls you in by the waist lovingly, "i like that very much. now, give me a kiss!"

"no! you're gonna ruin it!" he rolls his eyes, "i'll buy you another." he knows you couldn't resist, so before you open your mouth to retort, he yanks you towards him and captures your lips. "i'll buy you as many as you want, so long you keep letting me do this."

----

𐙚 those who has some clue and tries to buy something you like 𐙚

ᯓ★ joshua, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon, seungkwan

i know vernon has a younger sister and kwanie has sisters, but hear me out: i don't think they are that interested in makeup products at all hence they are here; for joshua because he is such a gentleman he would take pictures of your lipsticks to know which ones to get, similar for hosh and wooz i think they would make sure you're physically with them so they don't get the wrong ones

because they aren't sure of the exact type/ shade/ tint, he would make the effort to know your favorite brands and colors at least so that he could go get them when he goes out shopping for your gifts <3 !! he wants to surprise you too, and might throw in other skincare products they are more confident in getting

call it algorithm influencing, but he sometimes sees the targeted ads on your phone and makes a mental note to ask you about it

very much prefers you in your natural state, but loves it when you doll up for them/ yourself because you are beautiful in their eyes (have you seen them barefaced wts!!)

"you like this one?" he leans over, his taller frame standing out painfully in the makeup section. you nod your head, "yeah? looks good doesn't it?" you swatch another color on the back of his hands and he observes closely, "this one has sparkles in it, but it's a lot more lighter than the other other one."

"i can't decide which one to get though." you frowned the back of his hands are littered with various shades, matching yours. he shakes his head, sporting a silly grin, "it's okay! we can browse longer. let's get something you really like."

----

𐙚 those who don't know, but buys something anyways 𐙚:

ᯓ★ junhwi, wonwoo, seokmin, chan

dedicated to the brother-havers and single children: i feel that these bunch of people are the group of people who don't know much about makeup and are perhaps less interested in it as you are; might even be clueless about it

they seem like the type to ask many questions about why some products are matte or glossy or why are they so liquid-y or why has there got to be many shades (in the sweetest and non-annoying way)

very green forest behavior when they know not to mess with your makeup products and to keep them stored away neatly

call it algorithm influencing, but when he spots some makeup brand promoting items, he'd come and ask for your opinion (so that he could take you out and buy it for you uwu)

unexpectedly i think somewhat related to makeup, wonwoo or dino feels like the type to enjoy doing facials with you

"i'm not sure if you like this, but i overheard you telling your friends you were running out. thought this might make your day." his heart was beating out of his chest, but he plays it cool by gifting you a small bag. you excitedly take it from him, and he relishes in the way your eyes practically light up. looks like he bought the right one.

"oh baby, thank you!" you hug him tight and he reciprocates the gesture, an affectionate beam all over his face. "it's the one i told you about! no way! you got it!" he exhales dramatically, "anything for you my love."

@ppumeonae-bigvibe 's work ; likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

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crumblinggothicarchitecture · 2 days

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Hey. This might be very stupid, but i hope you answer this.

Today I accidently got sucked into your blog, which is ironic since I'm a huge swiftie. (but I'm not here to hate on you, I swear)

The thing is for months I've been doubting where I stand on that. Like if i should call myself a swifte or not. when I was young, I used to worship the ground she walked on. but in the past year, I've slowly realised I've been very sheltered. like the problems people point out about her sometimes are actual real problems, but my brain just doesn't know how to respond to that as it has been taught taylor swift is a goddess and can do no wrong. Since your posts are tagged with #exswiftie, i figure you'd understand.

I am not from america, so I can understand then politics part of it all only to a certian extend. the other things, I just dont know what to say to that. The most i can reply is..."yes that is a bit of a problem". I feel don't feel like a swiftie at that moment.

I had fed my mind this narrative that people who hate taylor swift passionately are like untrustworthy or just a walking red flag, or just "don't get it". Now after reading your actual breakdowns I understand you have a rather educated opinion and perception of things. Which clearly rules out my narrative.

I don't know what I feel like I have to define where I stand on this, I just do. I know I genuinely enjoy her music a lot, even there are songs I don't want to hear more than once. I love the whole swiftie lore, digging deep on each lyrics finding out what they mean, finding clues easter eggs just losing my mind over surprise songs. Then i see this other side, which can't be defined with anything less than deeply toxic, which makes me question whether or not this thing i love so much is genuinely good or not.

Hello dear, apologies for the delay in reply :) I am happy to chat with you. I hope that you did not think I would ignore you.

I was also a Swiftie for nearly 15 years. I got her debut record as a Christmas present in 2006 or 2007. Though I cannot remember which year it was, I loved her from the start. At 10 years old, I was immediately interested. My mother approved of me owning her music simply because she was inoffensive. She didn’t curse or talk about sex, in the beginning, so she was deemed appropriated for my childhood self. She and I have since grown up. She is now a terribly pretentious bully- and, well, I grew up much too poor and much too hungry to turn into a bully like her.

The problem- and something I think you’re very much aware of- is that Swift has built herself up in her fandom as perfect. She encourages fans to defend her every action- and rewards them for their efforts through “Swiftmas” or “Secret Sessions” or “hidden easter eggs that only the smartest- most dedicated fans will figure out.” It’s all methodically calculated to keep up an air of reciprocity between Swift, as the fearless leader, and her band of merry misfits- the fans.

You are not dumb for falling into her rhetorical situation - she's set the marketing strategy up on purpose. It’s specifically created to attract attention- and, to make people feel good, or productive, by participating in her marketing strategy. She gives people an image of herself as a poor innocent victim of the media, or of any critique, and then rewards people for defending her. In Literary study, we call this “Pathos” as the rhetorical appeal to emotion through messaging- textual work of some kind. Rhetoric like this can be found in all sorts of media- commercials about starving children or beaten dogs, charity event banners aiming to persuade someone to donate. It’s all predicated on the appeal to our common emotion, or human capacity to empathize with each other. For, every time fans are rewarded by her attention- after defending her from a perceived enemy, or figuring out some hidden clue- they feel closer to the idol, they feel happy to have her attention. They get that emotional impact of believing they are helping Taylor Swift, or understanding her better on some more human, connected, level. It’s a game of risk and reward for her. Never mind that none of this altruistic- she gets paid through our attention on her- and if you are not directly lining her pockets with your cash money, she does not actually care about you. It’s the image of caring she projects that matters much more than the fact that she doesn’t actually care.

I’m sure you can think of many more examples wherein Swift has played this game of attention and reward with fans. It’s everywhere- her easter eggs are a great example. Sometimes her use of Pathos is benign- non malicious, therefore a non-issue. However, she often weaponizes this rhetoric in a way that is harmful.

This interplay she sets up, between herself and her fans, is made more intensive through her pathos- heavy approach to Rhetoric. To further illustrate, one of the ways people often explain Pathos is by saying that it represents our, as human beings, judgement affect. We see, or hear, the narrative Swift espouses and make judgements about it. If she says: The music critics are sexist towards me. We say: 1.) Sexism is morally wrong, 2.) Taylor Swift is facing sexism from Music critics, Therefore.) The music critics are sexist and morally wrong, because they are criticizing Taylor Swift.

So, all the critics are bad- and we don't need to listen to them. It's also a way Swift creates permissive attitudes towards attacking anyone who critique's her- because she can so easily label them all as sexist.

She uses this basic syllogism to justify leveraging her fans against all kinds of people- it's not just the critics. I just wanted to give a concrete example, and I will go more in depth on this subject in another post.

She is playing with people’s emotions, while she is also self-victimizing,and leveraging her audience’s innate human rejection of, for instance, sexism as it offends our personal values. No one is saying that sexism isn't morally corrupt; however, Taylor Swift points to valid criticism and calls it sexism so that her audience will attack. People often have valid critique of Swift- She just doesn't want to face critique at all- ever. If people say her music is too self-centered- Swift says that is Sexism. If people say her music is boring- she calls it sexism. If people say her music is shallow and only centered are relationships- She calls it sexism. When, in reality, it's valid criticism that has nothing to do with her being a woman. Only ever writing songs about your own myopic, self-centered perception of interpersonal relationships is shallow. Her music is objectively boring, because it's derivative. Her music is completely self-centered- and she only admits to that when it benefits her, but when critics say it, she calls it sexism.

Please don’t think badly of yourself. I am not here to hate on you either- I was you. I am not here to hate on anyone at all- I just want to share how my own knowledge, and expertise, of rhetorical appeals and literary analysis can expose Taylor Swift. Swift relies on this rhetorical technique to thrive, she obfuscates the truth, schemes, and manipulates people into thinking her music is the best thing on Earth- or thinking that she is literally a Saint. Clearly- nothing on Earth is that perfect- So why does she need her fan base to consider her a genius, and a saint, so badly?

Personally, I have no problem admitting I have flaws. I think most sane people can admit to their flaws. It’s not a bad thing to have flaws. So why does Taylor Swift react to all criticism like it’s the worst thing on Earth. Why does she have a whole song about calling critics “mean/ and a liar/ and pathetic/ and alone in life” (“Mean” 2010). She has the nerve to call that song an “anti-bullying” song; yet, is it so clearly bullying that random critic who wrote a bad review about her concert one time in 2009? She really hated that guy- and all he was doing was his job. She called him a drunken loser for just doing his job.

She's written so many songs about how all her critics are just stupid, morally corrupt, or sexist: "The Man" (2019), "Mean" (2010), "But Daddy I love Him" (2024), "New Romantics" (2014), "Shake it Off" (2014), "I know Places" (2014), "Anti-Hero" (2023), "Paris" (2023), "Blank Space" (2014), "I did something Bad" (2018), "Dancing with our hands tied" (2018). There are more songs wherein she carries this theme of "everyone is out to get me, and they all hate me for no good reason" but I think I've listed enough.

The general message is all over "Evermore" and "Folklore" too every time she calls the general public "Clowns" or "masqueraders"

It's just everywhere- her subtle devaluation of legitimate criticism. Trying to chalk it all up to the critics being simply dumb, sexist, or malicious in some way. Perhaps some people are mean- true- but to generalize every criticism as evil? That's just her actually playing a victim card. There's no way every single critic, or person who doesn't like her, is evil, bad, or malicious in some way. Okay?

I’m tired of her claiming to be an amazing person and an amazing poet- when she is just not either of those things. She’s not a kind person- it's all over her music in the ways she maliciously hurts people for fun. She’s not an amazing poet either. I have a few college degrees- and one pass through her work, with a serious intention of literary analysis, I discover that her writing is plain, banal, and derivative.

She wants everyone to compare her to Emily Dickinson, Dylan Thomas, and Shakespeare. So, I’m doing what she wants and taking her work seriously enough to critique it. Except that, in critique, I find out why it’s all poorly written- and why it’s just a bunch of thinly veiled conservative iterations of the same boring message over and over. All she ever says in her music is “poor me” and “I hate” (insert person- Kim K., Kanye, Matty, Joe, Jake, John, Scooter, Scott, Harry, Calvin, the media at large, anyone who critiques her, and men in the music industry as a whole). She has the longest list of enemies I think I’ve ever seen- and the funny thing is that all these people avoid her at all costs. None of these people talk about her- yet she is still singing, writing songs, and getting her fans to post memes about how awful they are years, even decades, later.

It all gets a bit tiresome? No? Personally, I don’t wish to live a life full of such self-pity and hatred- so why should I listen to it in music form? Ya know?

In my posts, I am attempting to find the truth. I don’t want to “hate” on anyone or anything- but I am going to seek truth in her work.

I will be posting more about how she devoids Shakespeare of his social reformist efforts. I’m going to post more about how she twists the meaning of every literary reference she’s ever made. I am not kidding, she has misrepresented, and misinterpreted every single literary reference in her entire discography. It’s astounding how hard Swift tries to sound thoughtful- without actually being thoughtful. I will be posting about how she only ever name-drops to either tear other people down or self-depreciate herself in effort to seek pity. I will be talking more about her use of rhetorical appeals to both attract an audience, keep their attention through risk-reward trade-off, and manipulate them into fighting her battles for her. I will be talking about how she upholds a bunch of harmful stereotypes in her music. She often alludes, or blatantly includes allusion to colonialist attitudes. She’s used the LGBT community for profit without making any real activist efforts. She’s leveraged feminism like a weapon against other women- yet never actually has feminist themes in her music. She’s just so painfully hollow- upon closer inspection.

I don’t hate her as a person. I think she’s unethical, sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate her, want her to die, or anything extreme at all. I would never wish harm to another human being. In fact, after seeing a lot of the harmful stuff in her music, especially about her kind of fucked up views on relationships, I sincerely hope she gets some professional help and finds some peace in this world. When I critique Taylor Swift it’s about her work and her brand- It's not about her personhood.

I just think that no one Earth is above reproach, or critique, and we must all be held accountable for our own actions. She’s the one that puts her work out there for people- It's therefore completely appropriate for me to discuss her work.

Edit: Oh and I want to add- I wish you luck in figuring out what you really think about Taylor Swift. If you ever need to talk or vent more- my inbox is always open. :) With peace and love- bye bye

#anti taylor swift #taylor swift criticism #anti swifties #ex swiftie #taylor swift #taylor swift critical #literary theory #literary criticism #pathos #rhetorical appeal #rhetoric #rhetorical situation

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halfyourheart · 2 years

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Give me the luke makeup tutorial NOW

omg what format are we talking here???? are we talking a fic, or a straight up textpost about it because I have so many thoughts on this and I will do either with little to no encouragement 😌

#I'm nervous about answering because that is public so more thoughts in the tags #yes I know people can see tags but it feels more hidden #here are some baby little thoughts #him going through his little tote bags that he brings everywhere???#what's in luke hemmings' bag????#and I know he steals from sierra so I am imagining they have the good stuff because wealth™#I hope and I pray that he has a skincare routine to start please #this bitch better put sunscreen on #he will prime with something glowy but otherwise no base because his skin is annoyingly good and also we need to see the freckles #and the fun part!! eyeshadow #I want him to do a whole stage look #his baby blue eyes create some really fucking cool looks #I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see a more dark smokey eye??? like dark eyeliner in the waterline blended out #and then baM glitter on the lid - in like a blue or just silver??? YUM #or or or #a light pink shimmery look #I'm thinking those vogue beauty secrets videos?? he can do a daytime look and a nighttime look #but that's just because I want him to as many looks as possible #I really want a dark smokey look - I feel like we haven't really seen that #except kind of when he was wearing that red suit?? but I want more #I want drama #dark eyeliner and glitter luke #I beg #thanks for coming to my tag tedtalk #these are just little baby thoughts but I am so tempted to make a powerpoint at this point #powerpoints are my love language #also hi jess! nice to meet you 💛#big fan of your fics 🥺#daydadahlias #answered

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aeide-thea · 7 months

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poäng appreciation post 💛

#i forget if i said but Baby Sister and i stopped off at ikea on the way back from picking her up at the bus stop on monday #and finally replaced the ruined-by-a-succession-of-cats-(in-ways-both-unsightly-and-gross) Accent Chair in the living room #with a poäng rocker (bc the shape is a little more interesting and less instantly recognizable than the regular chair) in birch (my beloved #also they make fancy tufted cushions for it now! wish they came in more colors but it's a real improvement on sad options past #and anyway it's like. now you can actually sit here in the morning and look out the window at the extremely beautiful view #and the chair actually supports you??? like i could see down the road trying to work out some kind of custom cushioning that's thicker #but the shape of the frame is so ergonomic for me that it's genuinely quite comfortable regardless. bentwood exocorset…#anyway. not a very original post but i just DO really love ikea #like yes it's a mixed bag but also honestly if you're buying particle board—#(i was going to say 'and expecting it to hold up' but. honestly i think it's just. if you're buying particle board period)#—that might be on you.#(like. if you're being pressed in from all sides by budget constraints and immediate need and no accessible better-made used alternatives—#obviously you do what you have to. but it's like buying pleather—you know‚ or should‚ that the material is going to disintegrate.)#but the things ikea makes with decent materials are remarkably well-designed and affordable for what they are‚ has been my sense?#you just gotta shop carefully but like. that's true literally everywhere.#anyway. in conclusion i love my new buddy with its clean lines. …do people name chairs ever.#i've never before had the urge but this one feels like a little assembly-line friend that deserves its own identity. like a star wars clone #(lol what if i gave it a little nametag somewhere hidden. secret identity talisman 4 chairpal.)#(& yes i promise i'm as aware of the‚ uh‚ itself-ness of this tag spiral as you are. :) )#domesticities

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sleepinghypnos · 2 months

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The Creed

Chapter 2 - Second Plate...

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“Just like that, obediently lay down and be used by me.”

“YES SIR, OH MY GOD!!! YOU ARE HITTING SO FUCKING D-DEEP!!! I'M YOUR SLUT, YOURS ALONE, PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME. RUIN ME FOR OTHER MEN. UGGHHHH, UGH-FUCCCK, SHIIIIIT!!!” Karina moans like a total slut craving for some rough fucking... Vlad told her to bend her knees to her chest and raises her feet while laying down, penetrating her deeper making her eyes rolling back and her tongue lolling out.

His study has a bed for the reason that he sleeps in the study more frequently instead of his bedroom since he's getting more requests nowadays.

"That's it, lose yourself in pleasure. Let me see that tongue of yours lolling out." Vlad thrusting into her with a fierce and unrelenting force, his massive rod buried deep inside her, Karina couldn't help but let out a string of moans and gasps that echoed throughout the room.

Karina was known for her confidence and strength on stage, in this moment, she was completely submissive to the man's will. Letting herself get consumed by lust and her carnal desire to be used.

“How are you so fucking b-big” She said between moans.

“You'll take this dick everyday whenever I want to, fucking slut. You are MINE now.” He slapped her face then grabbed her neck to choke her while still fucking her deeply.

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“AACHHKKK- YES SIR! I'm your dumb slut. Just a cum d-dumpster for you, PLEASE F-FUCK ME. USE ME WHENEVER YOU WANT.” She managed to respond despite the choking.

Vlad is fascinated in her hidden slutty side. He just knows that k-pop idols are the horniest because of their job to act the way people want them to behave and so their real personality lay dormant within them until provoked. “I'll use you, keep begging slut."

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“YOUR DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!” She screams in ecstasy as she lay underneath him. “IT'S REACHING SO DEEP!!!”

He's kissing her in a ravenous passion, unrelenting with his thrust, and insatiable lust for her, for her clenching walls massaging his entire length... Seeing her beg for more adds fuel to his already burning and scorching desire to claim her, make her dependent on him, a cockslave... that only lives for his pleasure.

“You like that? You like getting treated like piece of meat... like an object of pleasure?” He grinned at her moving his hips in a rhythm that stimulates her even further.

He squeezing her cheeks with his hand and she can barely talk. “YESSHH SHIRR! I"M A DUMB WHORE, A FUCK MEAT READY TO PLEASHHURE YOU ANYTIME.” She gave a very satisfying answer.

“Right, a fuck meat, remember your role from now on.” He thrusts his hips forward and meet her cervix in one fell swoop. Karina screams her lungs out as she felt his huge cock trying to enter the forbidden domain, she's new in deep penetration. This is her first time getting railed to the extent that she can feel a cock touching her deep ends.

“OH FUUUUCKKK!!! TOO DEEP! YOU ARE TOO DEEP SIRRRR!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIT!!!!” She said as Vlad pounded into her by pulling his entire length except the tip then thrusting full throttle over and over again. "SIR, I'M CUMMING!!! SHITTTT. LET ME CUM, LET ME CUM PLEAAASSHHH!"

FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP

“SIR, Y-YOU'RE SPLITTING ME APART!!! HE-HEHEHE, FUUUCCCKKK! KEEP USING ME. PLEASE. HEH-EHEHE. IT FEELS SO. FUCKING. GOOD!!!! ” She's losing her mind, laughing... Vlad continues to pound her not stopping. “AAAAHHHHH, I'M CUMMIIIIIINNNGGG!!!” Karina squeal as she explode, squirting... Vlad's fucked her through her orgasm making it more sensitive and stimulating until he reached his own peak and release it inside of her womb.

"I'M CUMMING INSIDE OF YOU, SLUT!!!"

"YEEEES PLEASE FUCKING GIVE IT TO ME." Karina said while still overstimulated, and felt a surge of liquid in her womb. "HEHE-HE, I can feel you cum inside of me, it's warm... I want it everyday, i want to be fucked silly by you... Sir.. please, can you please continue using me?" She said while caressing her underbelly that is noticeably bulging due to Vlad's massive load.

"Of course, fucking dumb whore... you are mine now. I'm going to use you whenever I want to." He said while pulling out watching his obscene amount of cum pour out of Karina's now loose pussy.

She smiled, “Yes, I'm a dumb whore, thank you for putting me in my place, Sir. Please keep reminding me with your massive cock...” Karina stares at Vlad with such submissiveness as if she's been bewitched by him...

Vlad left Karina in his study to rest, since she's worn out even with just one session with him. Even if he claims that he'll use her which is the truth, he's not a total scumbag that he will not look out for her well being. He then decided to go to his firing range to let off steam, Karina is a lucky one, he showed mercy to her since she's half drunk when she went to see him...

When he arrived, he was welcomed by a small petite figure rummaging his armory... "What are you doing here?" he said.

A/N: A short update... Oh wait, all my works are short... Anyways, enjoy this short piece.

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fic #itzy smut #aespa smut #karina smut #kpop #red velvet smut #twice smut #(g) idle smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Winter's King 22

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this week isn't going great but we're hoping.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You peer up at the silhouettes of the vultures perched on the peaks of the castle. Your return is met by a clear sky as the snows recede to crawling clouds across the slate expanse. The king lets you down outside the stables before he walks the horse within.

You stand just inside the doorway, outside the gathering winds that whistle through the passes and hidden crevices of the mountain. You hug yourself, shivering endlessly as you struggle to chase the cold from your bones. Once the chill creeps in it is near impossible to expel.

King Geralt’s rocky voice carries through the stable as he speaks to Roach. You glance over as another mount huffs and gives an impatient whinny. You slip further inside, letting the door shut completely. You trod along the edge of the aisle and turn down the next row. There you find Daisy’s speckled nose.

“Oh, girl,” you greet her softly and untangle a mat in her mane, “there you are.”

She sniffs you as you pet her neck. She nuzzles the collar of your cloak and you feel along the thick tendons beneath her fine hair. There is comfort in her familiarity. You long to stay there with the horses. You belong more than you do in the king’s chambers.

“Treasure...” he calls for you as you still and keep your hand on Daisy. He speaks your name next as you hear his footfalls march down the next row, harrying faster with each step. The door swings in then clatters back against the frame as Daisy knicks. “Little maid?”

You pat Daisy’s nose and retreat. You shuffle to the front and turn to follow the wall, “your highness.”

King Geralt backs out of the doorway and it snaps shut with the wind. His eyes blaze a moment before they dim. He pushes his gloves over his hair, stray strands puffing out around his hairline.

“There you are. I worried you might have blown away,” he steadies his timbre. Was he truly afraid? Did he think you would try to escape?

“Apologies, I was checking on Sir Bryce’s mount,” you explain.

“Bryce, yes,” he reaches for you and takes your hand, “he has kept you safe, has he?”

You nod, “he is a good man.”

The king’s cheek ticks, “he is my man. He only does as I bid. I commanded him to see after you. Me.”

You take a breath and bow your head, “certainly, I know so, your highness. Thank you for your protection.”

“Do you see, so long as you are close to me, you won’t need to fear,” he girds.

For so long as he keeps you close, you will only be afraid. You will fear him, you will fear his courtiers and his enemies, and you will fear the day he no long wants you near. Every flame must burn itself out and every flame will singe those who get too close.

“Yes, your highness,” you answer and look up at him again, his eyes glimmering, “Geralt.”

Your voice shakes, with more than just the cold, and you let the shiver spread through you. The king brings a hand to your chin and brushes his leather glove against your cheek. He draws you into him, holding you again his chest.

“I forget, my summer treasure, the cold is new to you,” he embraces you and bends to speak against your hat, “we must warm you before an ague might creep in.”

He lets you free reluctantly and grips your hand instead. He takes you out of the stable and towards the rear entrance of the castle. You slip in the snow, keeping you footing only for his hold on you. He stops and turns to you, tugging you near as your feet kick through the powder.

He sweeps you up in his arms without effort. He is strong and holds you across his body, cradling you as he stalks to the door. You wriggle as angles to hook two fingers through the loop and hauls open the door around you. He sidles inside and turns you, bidding you to pull the door shut. You obey and close you both in dim unlit corridor.

“Thank you, your highness,” you pat his chest lightly, “will you let me down?”

“I don’t mind. You are hardly a burden,” he grits. “Having you in my arms has me feeling much lighter.”

You drag your hand to his shoulder and squeeze through the layers, “but what if someone should happen upon us?”

He’s quiet. He keeps you aloft, shifting one way then the other, peering up and down the darkness.

“And what if they did?” He asks.

It’s your turn to be silent.

“I am king, what should they do, treasure?”

You fidget and pull your hand away from him.

“You speak true, your highness. You are the king, you may do as you will.”

He sighs and his chest heaves against you. He clicks his tongue and slowly shifts you down until your feet meet the floor. As he straightens, he drags his touch over your figure, his hand delving between cloak and dress.

“You fret very much,” he rebukes, “though I suppose caution is wise.”

“I think of you, of your reputation as king,” you assure him, “I wouldn’t want to tarnish your name. I serve the crown and I wouldn’t bring shame to it.”

“Shame?” He snarls, “never.”

He hooks his arm around you and spreads his hand across the back of your head. He pulls you into him and kisses your forehead as you tremble. He holds you like that for a moment before he parts.

“We must warm you,” he proclaims, “this way, treasure.”

He nudges you along with him. You follow his footsteps down the corridor, towards the lantern light that light the main ways. He takes you through the castle without pause, not tarrying for soldier or lord alike, though few appear in the halls. It is much too cold to leave their hearths.

You climb upward and he leads you to the winding tower. He let you up ahead of him as he holds the door. He touches your lower back through the cloak.

“You will wait for me. I have some matters to attend to,” he says, “it shouldn’t be very long at all.” He trails up your back, sending a flash of heat through you, “sit close to the hearth.”

“Yes, your highness,” you dip your head and press on, ascending as you lift the hem of your cloak and dress over your feet.

The lower door shuts only as the hinges at the top whine at your entrance. You close the chamber door and look around the space. The hearth burns still, fed by servants at intervals, and the lantern on the table shines through the steel slats that shade its flame.

You remove the cloak and hang it from an iron hook. You sit in the chair and strip off the hat, mittens, boots, and stockings; You leave the damp layers nears the hearth and lower yourself before the flames. You close your eyes and hang your head forward. You could sleep then and there.

Your peace doesn’t last very long. You raise your head as you hear someone on the stairs. You stand, readying yourself to face the king, but instead are met by a pair of pinch-faced maids. The resident servants carry steaming vessels and cross to the tub stood to the other side of the bed. They pour the water into the thick wooden walls and retreat without a word.

You spin and fold your arms. You’re taken back to the day it was you and Merinda filling a tub. Before everything became so muddled. A simple existence where you knew exactly what was expected of you.

Your heart rents when you think of your estranged companion. Merinda would know what to say. She could ease your fears, she always knew how. Ever since she came Debray, she always kept you from worry. Without her, you are lost. You only wish you’d realised then all she was to you. You were more than just maids, you were friends.

You stare at the cinders beneath the licking flames. You don’t look again as the servants come upon their second trip, and a third, and a fourth... anon and anon until the chamber thickens with the steam of the tub. You daren’t remind yourself again how much you’ve lost; how much you didn’t even know you had to lose.

You’re left in silence, facing the fire. The winds batter the tower from outside and the shuttered windows rattle. Heavy steps come up the winding staircase and you know without looking who enters behind you. The king’s sigh confirms your assumption.

“The water will ease the cold,” he says as the door shuts, “and the aches of the road.”

You shift so your stand sideways to him, “thank you, your highness.” You swallow and cough out the lump in your throat, “Geralt.”

He hums at your correction. You stand still as he moves around the chamber. He unbuckles his cloak and hangs it next to the one he gifted you. Then he nears to remove his gloves and boots, lining them up before the burning fireplace. As he stands straight, he faces you.

“You should bathe. The water is hot,” he says.

“Thank you,” you nod and reach behind your nape to untie the single lace of your dress, “so I should.”

You whisk away from him, pacing towards the tub as your hands clash clumsily. The thought of undressing before him makes you numb. You stop as the steam plume around you and drop your arms. You can’t get a grasp on the fabric. You grip the edge of the tub and stare into the water.

“You needn’t be meek,” you hear the subtle creak of his leather coat as he removes it. You peek over as he drapes it over a wooden chair. “The cold is dangerous for summerborn, you shouldn’t let it get too deep.”

You can't. You're trying to find the will. You think of all you've done. Faced the Duke and his clan, travelled to the capital, the to hinterlands, you've done it all without doubt, but the layers of fabric are too heavy a task.

You flinch as you feel a tickle along your side. You push away from the tub, dropping your arms as he king bends behind you. He raises the hem of your dress and the air is crushed from your chest. You serve, you obey, and the king’s will is plain.

You lift your arms as he strips the dress up your body and over your head. He swipes it towards the bed as your shift rumples at your hips, the unhemmed edge along your thighs. He steps even closer as he curls his fingers around the undyed linen.

You keep your arms up as he guides the fabric higher. He keeps his thumbs hooked in the cloth and turns his hands so his fingertips brush your shape. Bumps bristle over your skin and have you even colder than before. You quake as the linen blinds you for just a moment and in another, you're naked.

Your shift flaps through the air to land on your dress. The king's breath wisps out through his tight chest and he frames your hips with his large hands. He's shaking too.

He draws away slowly and you feel a rustle against you. You stand frozen as he undresses at your back. Don’t look, you can’t look. If you look, it’s real. If you look, it’s over. His clothes pile at his feet as he shifts you gasp as he presses his hot body flush to yours.

He brings his hands up your arms and along your neck. He frames your head and kisses your crown, his thumb toying with a shank of your uneven hair. You bite down as he urges you closer to the tub.

You move without without resistance, one leg over the edge then the other. He follows, thick legs plunging into the roiling water. He keeps you snug to him as he lowers himself, easing you atop him. You rest over him and his need makes itself known between you. You stare at the stone wall and steel yourself, the water adding fire to the ice inside of you.

He exhales as he relaxes under you, letting his hands crawl over your stomach and hips, feeling every inch of you. From the crook of your neck to your thighs. He smears water over your face as he touches your cheeks and traces your jaw. He quivers as snarling breaths escape him.

“This is how it should be, treasure,” he wraps his hands around yours and folds your arms, resting his clutches over your chest. “I suppose you’ve never heard the tale of Cerill and Wynifred.”

You stare at his knuckles, the hair that trims his rough flesh, the grip in his paled joints.

“Never,” you assure him.

“Cerill was a warrior. A loyal soldier. A man who served his king with all his being. He was knighted on a battlefield. Once a stablehand, then a hero. The king, Fazon, he had a wife, Wynifred. A queen who was kind and sweet. They were ill-matched for every misfortune he aimed at her, rather than its true crux,” he regales you as his voice fills the chamber, wafting with the steam.

“But she was obedient. She lived by her vows. For years. But she was mortal as any woman might be and the cruelty of her husband weakened her. And Lord Cerill was valiant and strong and gentle. Everything her husband was not. How could she restrain herself from the comfort he offered? Neither meant to betray their king but some things, some forces, are strong than those writ by men and their quills.”

You listen, certain of the purpose of his telling. You are not legendary lovers, you are not lost to wives’ tales and children’s stories, you are here, you are alive, and there is nothing fantastical about any of it. He might believe whatever but you haven’t that luxury. He will not hear the doubts, you will feel them.

“And what happened to them?” You ask with foreboding. There are stories similar in the summerlands; of pages and their masters’ wives or daughters.

“Yes, well, we know of them because they were found out, I suppose. They knew they would not evade the king’s vengeance but they refused to bend to it. So, they fled into the forest and found a sacred root. That plant is meant for the sickly, to ease their end. They consumed it together and died in each others’ arms. Just as they were found.”

You lay in silence. The forbidden love hardly tweaks at your heart, but more, you tremble to think of the king’s wrath. Of how a king might wrought his temper upon any and all. Even a wife, even a knight. It is no romantic tragedy; it is a lesson in the power of men.

“Apologies it is not a happier conclusion,” he says.

“The stories are never very happy,” you murmur. Or the truth.

He hums as squeezes your hands. The water is still as you lie in his mercy. This cannot last. Just as in his story, there will only be pain.

As if to confirm your unspoken dread, a knock sounds on the door. The king jerks, the water sloshing around him as he sits you up with him.

“Geralt, King of Rivia and the Hinterlands,” the growl cuts through meanly, “come rule your people!”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #winter's king #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au

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hotluncheddie · 7 months

Text

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

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he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable.

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright.

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud.

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her.

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain.

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay.

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally.

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this.

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect.

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much.

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is.

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home.

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time.

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone.

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie.

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees.

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind.

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch.

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out.

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful.

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect.

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out.

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan.

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan.

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt.

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat.

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through.

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground.

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing.

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire.

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day.

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now.

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm.

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly.

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers.

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t.

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back.

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect.

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pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

#hope this is okay #i know the comfort isn't like loads but #unmasking is fucking hard #and hes simply doing his best #autistic steve harrington #steddie #platonic stobin #hotlunch #my fic #steve harrington needs a hug #but he gets one so its okay #feel nervous about posting this but let’s fucking go my dudes #pls let me know if u like it 👉👈

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rxzennia · 2 months

Text

leviathan of the cosmos

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 something unto death as the respawning boss enemy, i haven’t finished 2.1 yet

when aventurine brings up traveling to the reverie hotel in the dreamscape alone, your eyes narrow ever so slightly and you take a step towards him. though you do truly worry for him, you can’t deny that you also want to take a peek at the off-limits-to-visitors area for yourself, too.

he’s been keeping you away from conflict, away from the dangerous games he plays on the daily, but you want to know. you want to see all that he is, his feats and evils, not just what he decides to show you. and if it means following him into the dreamscape, you won’t shy away from your quest of knowledge.

he doesn’t want you to enter the dreamscape reverie with him, but you’re very, very stubborn

“it’s dangerous for you,” he says, giving you the most serious look you’ve ever seen on him, like he’s genuinely concerned (he is)

you tilt your head. even without saying anything, he knows what you’re trying to say – you don’t understand where he’s coming from

he tries to explain, boy, he’s trying so hard to explain to you why exactly it’s a bad idea, but he feels like he’s talking to a wall

are you even listening? hello?

he can’t see your expression because your scarf is in the way, and your eyes betray nothing

for as much as he loves talking at you, this is the one time he wants you to give him a response

“you’re strong enough.” a statement, not a question, because this man is one of the ten stonehearts, and you know he has more power than he appears to have

well, yes. but, to be honest, he isn’t confident in his ability to protect you

death is a dangerous entity, and even if he’s certain he can hold his own against it…

what if it decides that you are its next target? you, who is so precious and lovely?

he doesn’t want to run the risk. he likes having you around, both as a friend and as a secretary, and the last thing he wants is to lose you

but you’re adamant. “there’s nothing to worry about,” you say, oblivious to all the worries running miles per second in his head

he feels like if he didn’t let you tag along, you’d just follow him anyway and that would be even worse

aventurine thinks he knows you well, perhaps even better than yourself, but turns out he’s just delusional. you’re so timid, so awkward, and when you’ve warmed up to him you’re still silent and brooding most of the time, how could he have known that you have so many cards hidden up your sleeve?

he’s just dealt with a few scattered crew from the dreamjolt troupe, but he might’ve made a little too much noise when he whacked the televisions

it feels like the entire floor’s enemies are attracted by the noise, even memory zone memes are showing up

he glances towards you, who’s doing a really good job at staying out of his way and avoiding attacks

way better than he expected

you don’t seem afraid, either. he can tell that you’re relaxed from your body language

one thing he’s worried about, though, is eventually attracting death

because that’s the one thing he’ll try his best to protect you from, but he isn’t certain if he can

he doesn’t think you can fight, and your lack of inclination towards conflict only reinforced that belief

sure, you’re built like a fortress and you’re intimidating, but he soon found out that you’re a big softie inside

which, even more unlikely that you can fight. you just feel so… vanilla

you feel like the type who’d try to de-escalate a situation that could otherwise be easily solved with fists

even if you look like your punches would send people into orbit, it's just so out of your character

he likes that about you, really, but sometimes he wished you have some combat skills

when death inevitably appears, aventurine’s heart drops. it completely ignores him and heads straight for you – perhaps it knows who’s stronger or weaker – its wing rearing back as it coils around you, picking you up by your scarf, and –

he goes pale. he immediately acts, invoking qlipoth’s protection

but he knows how swift death is, and how easily it will lay its claws upon you and take you from him

the shield he casts on you is easily broken in one, two, three slashes

does death penetrate armor? it doesn’t quite make sense – the kind of shield he confers should not have been so easily broken!

before he could even do anything, before he could even tell you how much he treasured you…

you’ll be gone, and he’ll be all alone again

he hates that. and you know he hates that, but what could either of you do?

for as far as he’s come, he’s still powerless to protect the ones he hold dear

he tries, he really does, but his attacks won’t reach death in time, nor will his shield reach you in time

it’s dead set on taking your life, and it’s going to succeed

damn it, he should’ve just forced you to stay in the reverie in reality, or the golden hour, or something

he’d take your annoyance over watching your symbolic “death” any day

he reaches for you – in a fit of desperation, he tries to grab onto you, your scarf, anything

you blink, watching as death’s claws withdraw, and as it swings its blade-laden scythe wing towards you. you seem shocked, but you close your eyes as you welcome the darkness.

the darkness known as your leviathan.

your white scarf sits perfectly around your neck, and your nose is still comfortably buried in the fabric

but there’s no mistaking it; it’s yours

the serpent emerging from the ends of your scarf, who wrapped around the monster known as something unto death, whose translucent body wound around it until it is no longer visible, who made it disappear…

it obeys you, holy shit, that creature obeys you

but you’ve always seemed so harmless, so sweet, so, so… so innocent

how could someone like you harbor something so terrifying?

yet here you are, swallowing the memetic entity with a gulp, like you’re simply swallowing down your food

you’re eating – no, you’ve eaten death

your leviathan settles into your scarf again, its form dissipating as if it had never existed at all

so simply, so effortlessly, disposing of it as if it’s naught but a mere worm

aventurine stares, at where death once loomed, and then at you, who looks completely fine. he stammers your name, and for the first time, he feels a primal fear in him. it’s different to the fear of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll still be alive tomorrow, or of being left behind again. it’s a fear more powerful, a fear stemming from coming face to face with someone perhaps even more dangerous than everyone he’s encountered on penacony. the fear of prey before the apex predator on the food chain.

his gentle giant of a secretary all of a sudden doesn’t seem so gentle anymore

he can’t really tell what exactly it is hiding in your scarf, but he has an inkling

before he can make a guess, you interrupt his line of thinking

“bleh…” you cringe in disgust, your face scrunching up as you stumble to find refuge on a nearby couch

never mind, he'll take that back

honestly, you don’t look like someone to be afraid of right now

you look like you’re about to collapse, with how pale you’re getting and how you’re almost retching up your lunch behind your scarf

which you are. the only thing stopping you is the physical aspect of being unable to

he pushes his fear aside, and finds it surprising easy to do so

in fact, it’s so easy that he could almost find your reaction hilarious

if you didn't look like you're three seconds away from keeling over

“you, you didn’t just–” he approaches you slowly, kneeling down by your side, “aeons, you look sick.”

you want to give him a reply, but the sheer flavor of the meme you just swallowed makes you so queasy that you think you might puke the moment you try to speak

his hands slowly reach up to hold your face, “will you be okay?” he asks, quiet and careful

you nod, relaxing into his touch, and he can feel you turn to lean against his palm even through the fabric that obfuscates your face

how are you still so adorable when you’ve just consumed the entirety of death?

you’ve never revealed much about yourself, and you’ve been the biggest mystery aventurine has been itching to solve. but at this stage, he isn’t too sure if he wants to find out anymore. you, your path, your abilities… you’ve been hiding them all, under that guise of innocence.

then again, he’s the one who made assumptions and decided to keep you away from conflict

he still feels cheated, just with no one but himself to blame

he wants to believe that you’ve been genuine with him! that your personality, at least, isn’t fake

you’re doing a really good job at reassuring him

well, maybe because you’re experiencing indigestion on a couch in the dreamscape after eating something that looks decidedly inedible

it doesn’t feel like you’re lying to him at all, with the way you’re behaving

when the nausea goes away just enough for you to speak, the first thing you say is a string of curses

and “i really hope i don’t get food poisoning”

it gets silent very quickly, and you two stare at each other

“i… i don’t think food poisoning is what you should be worried about right now,” he manages to say, suppressing the urge to just chuckle, because this is his confirmation that you’re still his favorite secretary

it takes you a while before you let out a very, very quiet mumble of “please don’t fire me.”

aventurine has never expected that to come out of your mouth. “what? why would i fire you over something like this?” he raises a brow, and he’s just as relieved as you are when your shoulders sagged. “i’m just glad you’re okay…”

he tries to lift you up, and you give him an a+ for effort, even if he ends up failing. you lean onto him, letting him carry half of your weight while you try to stand.

“c’mon, let’s get you out of here. you need to rest,” aventurine says, in the most happy, truly grateful way you’ve ever heard him speak. “but, after that? you have a lot of explaining to do.”

#ares's voracity pathstrider tales #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

Moon Blood

Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader

(Basically anybody who experiences periods can read this I just don't know what to tag it as)

Tav is described as having irregular periods and a heavy flow, which I know doesn't really leave it open to everyone. But it's true to my experience, so I'm sure some other irregular-period people can also appreciate this

(Also it's just a really self-indulgent story I wrote for me lmao)

Warnings: blood, blood drinking, period fic, references to sex, swearing

Word Count: 1,210

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You roll over in your bedroll again, groaning as quietly as you could as you clutch at your abdomen. An aching pain roiled just below your belly. And there it seemed determined to stay for however long it deemed fit.

Your moon bloods were always a shock - you never knew when they would happen and you never knew how long they would last, because the gods seem to think it’s funny to make it so relentlessly inconsistent. Not to mention how heavy they could be. After everything you’ve faced on your perilous journey so far, this was the fucking worst.

The pain rises to a peak. All you can do is curl in on yourself, hugging your stomach as tight as possible to will the pain away. Does it help? No. But there’s nothing else that could… Well…

You feel like an idiot when you knock on the wooden post outside Astarion’s tent. You were pretty sure he already knew of your problem, if the restlessness whenever he was near was any indication. You couldn’t imagine the temptation, but you could admire his resolve. That wasn’t why you were here.

He calls a muffled ‘Come in’ and you push aside the canvas door. You see the change instantly. The way his eyes darken with the scent of blood, his smirk more predatory than usual. You begin to wonder if this was a bad idea.

“Hello, darling,” he purrs, low and seductive. His book is set aside in favor of standing to greet you in the small space. His hands slide around your waist, nails pressing lightly into your spine. He leans down, pressing his nose to your pulse as he whispers, “You smell delicious.”

You clear your throat. “As tempting as that is…” You step back slightly, and he doesn’t try to stop you. Instead, he pulls his face from your neck and rests his hands at your sides. One more step and he would let you go entirely. “I just want to cuddle.”

He huffs, face scrunching in annoyance. “You come in here with a banquet between your legs, and all you want is to cuddle?” The irritation can hardly be read as genuine when his thumbs begin to rub circles into your hips soothingly.

“Mhm. My cramps and back are killing me,” you explain. You gesture back outside the tent. “I could go ask Gale, if you think you’ll be too tempted.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he hisses, but it’s an empty threat.

He pulls you with him back to the pile of pillows he was lounging in before, sitting down and leaning comfortably against the pile. You stopped, standing just before him, even as he nudged your hip toward him, silently telling you he was ready for you to join him.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright with…” You don’t know how to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound strange. But your need to make sure he is comfortable wins out above everything else. “With smelling the blood all night?”

His eyes soften as he smiles. The tinge of animalistic hunger still lingers behind it, but your dismissal of his preposition has pushed it toward the back, almost entirely hidden. “I’ll be alright. I’m not starved enough to lash out at any moment, I swear.”

You frown. “You know that’s not what I’m worried about.”

He chuckles despite your scolding. “I know.” You give him a pointed look and he rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Yes, dear, I’ll be alright smelling your blood all night. Now are you going to stand there all night?”

Assured in his comfort, you finally lay down, draping yourself over him, legs slotting between each other and arms holding each other close, and your head resting on his chest. The first few times you cuddled like this, you were worried your weight would make him uncomfortable, or worse, remind him of his 200 years of abuse. But he insisted, when he didn’t want to be cradled to your chest, of course.

He rests a hand at your lower back and begins working his fingers into the aching muscles there. You sigh and relax further into him. He doesn’t need air, but his chest still rises and falls with slow breaths. It’s disconcerting without a heartbeat to accompany it, or it would be if it was anybody else. But it’s Astarion, and instead the sound of his breathing alone was soothing.

You rest there for a moment, eyes closed. The position you’ve taken eases some of the pain, hand-in-hand with Astarion’s nimble touch. For now, the pain is a little more bearable.

You lift your head to look at him. He’s already looking at you, soft and at ease, eyes round with affection. “If you want to, you can eat,” you tell him. You jump to add, “From my neck.”

He chuckles. “Thank you for clarifying,” he teases.

“Well, like you said, I’m here with a banquet. I don’t want you to suffer just because I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m hardly suffering, dear,” he assures. “But I will take you up on your offer.”

You smile as you tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. He sits up, shifting you as he does until you’re eye-to-eye, before he buries his face against the nearly-faded marks he’s left. He continues to rub your back as he uses his free hand to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place and steady. He takes his time to press kisses all around his target. Your moon blood makes you taste sweeter; your skin smells so enticing. But he can savor it later.

You only get two warnings he’s about to bite: the hand holding your head tangles its fingers in your hair, holding you more firmly in place, though still being gentle about it; and the flat of his tongue running along the old punctures.

The sharp pain of ice in your veins never lasts. His mouth sucks and tongues at the punctures, drawing your blood out with practiced ease and drinking it down greedily. You close your eyes and relax into it. You trust him. And the odd feeling of your blood being pulled from your veins like liquid through a straw and the dizziness that accompanies it is much more bearable without vision.

Once he’s had his fill, he pulls his mouth off your neck and licks languidly at the last few drops until your blood clots. He slowly lowers himself back into the cushions, careful not to worsen your light-headedness with the motion. You rest your head back on his chest like a rag doll, limp and tired. He cards his fingers through your hair a few times before simply wrapping his arm around you. He mindlessly continues to rub circles into your back, keeping the pain at bay for you to sleep.

You try to speak through half-intelligible thoughts as exhaustion and comfort begins to claim you. Mostly ‘thank you’s, though a heavily slurred ‘I love you’ surfaces once or twice. He gently sushes you. And then you’re fast asleep, as if speaking was the only thing keeping you awake.

And in the morning, well, he’s more than happy to take care of you.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

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modelbus · 2 years

Note

Imagine this with Tommy in the background of a group stream

OMG OMG OMG YES!! This is too good not to write for, but I kept it short and sweet.

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Beguiled In The Background

"What are you even looking at?" Tommy asks quietly, staring at you. His thumb rubs idle circles on your shoulder while you two lay there, almost in your own little bubble.

"Just Insta. I've discovered the highland cow tag."

"Cute." He murmurs, but he isn't looking at your phone. He's still looking at you.

You tilt your head downwards to meet his gaze, your hair falling like a curtain around you two. Now you really are in your own bubble, hidden from anyone else.

"You weren't even looking at my phone."

"Nope." His cocky grin paired with the tone of his voice makes you laugh.

Leaning down, you connect your lips in a brief kiss before tucking your hair behind your ears and resuming your Instagram scrolling.

"Hey!" He complains sharply.

"What?"

"Oh, fuck you."

"What?" You repeat, grin growing.

"You know what!"

"Do I?"

"Fuck. You."

"So you don't want another kiss?"

"Now now, let's not jump to things!"

You're moving to kiss him again when your phone buzzes in your hand. Looking up at your phone to see the notification, you open it. He groans, a vibration you can feel due to your position.

"That's just fucking rude."

"I got a notification!" You defend. "It's-"

You cut yourself off when you realize what you're seeing. An Instagram post by a fan account that's tagged both you and Tommy. More importantly than that, it's a photo of you two. No, a screenshot.

"...Us?" You finish.

"Us?" He echoes.

"Yeah, look!"

Moving your phone so he can see, you show him the post. For a second he just stares at it.

"At least it's a cute photo." You laugh, saving it to your camera roll. "And we're trending on Twitter."

Tommy turns his head, looking off to the right. "You fuckers have ruined our moment." He loudly announces.

You laugh, turning to see the stream he just interrupted. Three people meet your gaze, knowing smiles on each of their faces. Well, a knowing smile is on Aimsey's. Ranboo and Billzo's just look evil.

"Maybe don't be cute on our stream next time." Ranboo says.

"Yeah, get over here and actually stream!" Aimsey adds.

"Guys, guys, we have to give the straight couple some respect." Billzo jokes, nudging them all.

"No, this is my stream. I can disrespect them all I want. Get over here." Ranboo responds.

"Fuck off!" Tommy yells, raising his hand to flip them off.

"They are right." You sigh, getting out of bed. "Chat, sorry not sorry."

"Never even got my fucking kiss."

#tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit #mcyt #dsmp #tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit imagine #fluff

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blue-jisungs · 5 days

Note

Hey how are you!!! Hope you're doing amazing I always love your fics and now that i know you are also taking one piece requests I am taking the step of actually sending requests cause i don't really have much of an imagination when it comes to k-pop idols i just read the fics but never had ideas of my own but as an anime watcher i do have lot of ideas when it comes to my fav characters🥹

Feel free to ignore my request if it's too much

So as you mentioned that you were in skypedia arc meaning you have completed alabasta meaning you know ace😁

So i was wondering if you would be able to write a modern au where ace and luffy meet go to a cafe where the reader is the owner and ace falls for the reader first like he loves her food and wants to thank her and then is completely blown and head over heels for her when he see's them and talk with them it would be amazing if the reader is gender neutral so that everyone can enjoy it thanks for going throught this hope you can do it take care!!!!!!!

a way to man’s heart…

# author's note ... IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM SO HAPPY FOR SOME OP REQS:( i hope this meets ur expectations!!!! :D

# extras ... a lot of food; gn! reader; modern au :D

“so, luff, today’s all about you. the food is on me!” ace grinned and patted his younger brother’s back. luffy’s eyes widened and sparkled with childish joy.

“you’re really the best, bro! can i pick the place too? there’s a new cafe that has opened up–” luffy started.

“your wish is my command” ace hummed and the younger one almost jumped out of his shoes, excitement over the roof.

well, it’s not everyday when ace visited his brother. as he moved out for university, they lost the ability to hang out that often. but it was summer, meaning ace could return to his hometown and his family.

“sanji went there already! he said the food was delicious – and ya know, he’s a cook! he knows the deal. he also said something about the service people… but i didn’t really care…” luffy put a pointing finger on his chin “it’s not that popular though… i hope they are open…”

ace listened with amusement to his little brother, soft smile on his lips. he missed him a bit more than he’d like to admit – the absence of his energetic yells was almost crushing in his quiet, lonely apartment.

upon arriving, they noticed it’s a very small and almost hidden from the society’s view cafe.

luffy barged in, doors swinging open, a sound of a doorbell ripping through the air.

it was empty inside, only soft sound of jazz music filling the room.

“yahoo! anyone here?” luffy hummed, looking around. then he came up to the check out, eyeing the menu. ace went to pick a seat.

a gentle voice spoke out, drawing the brothers’ attention.

“yes, welcome, come in! how can i help you?” the waiter asked with a happy smile. ace checked his phone upon realizing his not getting any say in the food choice anyway.

“can i see the menu?”

after what it felt like ages, luffy came back. buzzing with excitement, he tapped ace’s souldwr repeatedly.

“that lovely person gave us a food testing deal, so i ordered literally everything! isn’t it just the best day ever?” the younger one grinned, giggling boyishly.

ace frowned and turned his head to look at the cashier but they were gone. it was a bit suspicious but he didn’t want to burst his brother’s bubble. shrugging, he put his phone away and focused on luffy.

after a while, the waiter brought all the food that took up all the space on the table.

“are you sure you’ll eat everything?” the waiter asked and ace looked up, suddenly struck by their beauty. the name tag read ‘y/n’ with a small heart next to it.

“duh!” luffy puffed his chest proudly and dug in, not realizing how mesmerised his brother was.

“enjoy your meal, then! if you need anything else just let me know” you smiled and went back behind the counter.

ace smirked, an idea blooming in his head, and started eating as well.

he was a good lover, that was no lie. he has eaten lots and lots of delicious meals but those… those tasted like heaven. this carrot cake or rice pudding… could top sanji’s cooking, for sure.

there’s a saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” for a reason.

while exchanging joyous nods with luffy, ace knew he’ll leave this cafe with more than a full stomach.

“um, excuse me?” ace called and walked up to the check out, drumming his fingers against his wallet.

you came from the storage room, wiping your hands against your apron. a bright smile painted on your lips.

“yes?”

“i’d like to order another thing” ace smiled and with the corner of his eye he noticed how his words peaked luffy’s interest.

“mhm, of course! and what would it be?” you asked, looking at him interested. he (and his brother) were definitely unusual clients.

“two cups of cappuccino and an orange juice. and a dessert… of your choice, y/n” he said smugly and leaned against the counter, his muscular arm flexing.

your eyes widened… then your brows frowned and nose scrunched. ace giggled upon your reaction and winked.

“you should join us, y/n” ace hummed and then realized one thing: you’re at work “oh, i mean, unless the owner minds it but i can take the blame”

“oh, no. there will be no need for that. i’m the owner and i will certainly don’t mind” you sent him a soft smile and saw his lips turn into an o in awe “i’ll bring the coffee and be right back”

“ace, can i have your brownie muffin?!” luffy yelled.

in a blink of an eye you arrived, steaming cups of coffee and an orange juice. placing them down on the table, squeezing the dessert too, you pulled up a chair and sat down.

“i hope you enjoyed your food?” you looked expectantly at luffy.

“my friend, if i could marry a meal… i’d marry them all!” the younger brother cheered and you laughed.

ace’s heart melted – the sound of your laughter was the cutest sound ever.

“thank you so much, i really appreciate it” you hummed, grabbing your coffee cup. ace did the same and his heart skipped a beat when he saw that you made a heart out of foam at the top of his beverage.

“so you’re the owner? is it hard to own a cafe?” he asked before taking a sip.

you chatted with the brothers for a long time, occasionally pausing to serve the other customers that would come in. or to deliver more food for luffy.

ace fell for you with each word, gesture… everything you did.

before you realized it was the closing hour, sun setting behind the windows.

“we’ll get going, this guy has an important exam that he has to cram for!” luffy whined, puffing his cheeks and pointing at ace “i’d love to stay longer…”

“feel free to visit me whenever! don’t tell it to anyone but you might just be my favorite customers” you winked and luffy chuckled, packing his stuff.

“do you need any help though? we made a mess…” ace asked, looking at the table with empty dishes (and some stains from luffy’s messy eating)

“no, no, don’t worry. i don’t want to keep you busy. good luck with cramming!” you grinned.

“thank you” ace sent you a warm smile and pulled out his wallet to leave the payment since you already told them what the checkout is going to be (you didn’t mention you included a huge discount too).

when you came back from the kitchen where you put away the dirty dishes, the brothers were gone.

you walked up to take another part of the dishes when something caught your eye.

next to the bill there was a napkin with something scribbled on it.

thank you for satisfying my bro’s wolffish appetite! however i’d prefer to hung out with you without this rascal… call me? <3

xxx-xxx-xxx

masterlist <3

taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

#ace x reader #ace fluff #ace imagine #ace angst #ace x y/n #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace fluff #one piece fluff #op ace #op ace x reader #ace one piece #one piece ace #op x reader #op x you #op x y/n #ace x you #portgas d ace #op modern au #blue jisungs's requests

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lunamochii · 1 year

Text

Caelus — x fox!freader

contents; overstimulation, ooc Caelus(i think), grammatical error, wrong spelling… etc,,

reblog with tags and feedback are highly appreciated!

Dubbed as one of the people who saved your planet to danger, it was amusing on seeing him enter the establishment you’re working for.

“My my, why is a person like you in such places?”

You approach him, fingers trailing on his arms, your tail brushing past by his thigh. You heard him chuckle and look at you with his golden eyes

“To meet you, ofcourse.”

The smile on his lips that he have showned you was the start of your taking a liking to him, day after day he would come and ask for your company only. Men are known to come here everyday to seek company to different girls, yes, you work in a brothel. It was quite hidden so it was quite a schock seeing Caelus lingering around that day.

“Don’t you get bored with my company? There are other girls who are quite more entertaining..”

You ask. It’s not like you hate being with him but you just can’t help but wonder why, that day was your first time meeting with him. So, him saying ‘to meet you’ it is as if that he have met you before

Caelus look at you and bring you closer to him, arms wrapping around your waist as he began to kiss your ears. Blushing at what his doing, you decided to peak at him and his eyes is already looking at you

“With you is where I feel comfortable. I knew that when I saw you being gentle with the kids.”

You blink at him and remembered you once played with some kids on the streets, they were homeless and were always wandering. Then one day, one of the children told you that they found a place for them to stay. That a man payed for them.

“Caelus you…”

The man before you just smile and gave you a kiss on the cheeks

“It nearly cost me all of my savings just to get them say your whereabouts.”

You can feel your tail swaying softly on the back, you look at him and place your hands above his chest

“And? Were you disappointed when you saw it was a brothel?”

The only time he felt anger was the thought of someone touching you aside him.

“No, more like I want to take you out of this place. Say, why not? Come with me for a night and you can decide.”

His playing with your hair and you immediately agreed, it’s not like you have something to lose. Caelus smiled brightly and quickly carried you. You were telling him to put you down but he won’t budge. Both of you went out the building with you on his arms, you were basically hiding your face. Too embarrassed to let the people see you.

“Wow! I can see the stars from here! Oh my, your place is beautiful!”

Caelus watch you in happiness and his so glad that he found this place, he knew you like watching the stars. Plus, your eyes shine brighter when you’re happy.

“Really? I got some help from Himeko on acquiring this place though, she told me she would deduct my salary.”

You turn to look at him, a woman’s name. There’s still so much of Caelus that you don’t know.

“Himeko?”

Your voice so low that Caelus is glad he has a good hearing skill. Maybe he should thank March 7th since he adjusted to her screaming voice when it’s early in the morning.

“She’s like a person who takes care of me. You jealous?”

He smirk at you and you were a blushing mess

“Jealous?! Me?! O-Ofcourse not..”

You covered half of your face and he only just laugh as he sat down on a sofa, he extended his arms out while looking at you

“Won’t you want to be the only person who would take care of me? Hm?”

You bit your lower lip and went to him. Getting in between his legs, his one hand slip inside your robe, as he use his other to bring your face close to his as you both shared a heated kiss.

You opened your eyes as soon the kiss ended and you let out a moan when he trail his kisses from your neck down to the center of your chest.

“I want everything of you.”

Caelus, ever since he was brought to this world the first thing he did was fight. Up until he arrived at your planet, meeting you was a refresh from him. Is this desire that Dan Heng told him? If so, he desires for you, he desire for you to touch him, kiss him, love him, leash him. He just wants to be with you. Every second and minute.

He push you down on the sofa and quickly loom over you. He have this dark blush as he continue to shower your neck with kisses

“Taste so good…”

His fingers are working miracle as he rub and pinch your clit, your voice is uncontrollably loud. Pulling your robe down, he can finally see the two beads he wants to see. Pulling his one hand away from your clit, your breast was covered with your wetness as he began kneading them at the same time.

“C-Caelus— hnng~ to think I was right about you wanting it rough…”

He look at you before sucking both of your nipples and that almost made you lose your mind, not that he cares, he wants you to go crazy for him. Reading those magazines on the brothel is paying off.

“Caelus! Caelus! Haahh~ hnng~”

“Chant my name. Moan my name.”

“Yes master! Eek! Cumming! I’m gonna cum!”

He suck hard and your body shudder at the feeling of letting your release, but he wants you to go crazy for him, right? He immediately slid his fingers inside your pussy and finger fuck you. Grabbing on the sofa, you were trying to scurry away but he won’t let you.

“Caelus! There are rules! You mustn’t— mhhm!”

“Rules are meant to be broken, right? Also, we won’t know if my cock will fit inside you.”

His right. You gave him a blowjob once and his cock is big. Thick. But this is making you crazy, you grab on to his coat and came for the second time, Caelus lick your nipples before throwing your robe on the floor, taking off his coat and his shirt. All of it are on the floor now, he wants to move on the bed but he can’t. He must fuck you right here, right now.

“Turn around”

He commanded and you obeyed, you felt him staring at your pussy that is dripping wet, then his eyes went to look at your tail that is swaying softly

“Does a fox feel something when their tail are being played?”

You felt your heart jump and before you can say anything he started to rub your tail, his rubbing it like how he rub his own cock. Tears start form on your eyes as you moan loudly, his playing with your tail while toying with your pussy.

“N-No more— I— this— hnngg~ mmhhhmm..~”

“Look at you, can’t even speak properly.”

Caelus smiles warmly before leaning in to capture your lips to share a passionate kiss with you. He didn’t stop rubbing your tail and to add more his already playing with your ears too

“Too much— aahhh not my ears! Caelus! Haahhh~”

He let go of your ear and you felt him unbuckle his pants and you can feel the tip of his cock poking at your entrance.

“So hard for you, my fox. There’s a saying ‘sly fox, dumb bunny’ but look at us! It’s more like you’re a dumb fox.”

With that he thrust his cock in and it made your whole world spin, he let go of your tail and grab on your waist as he move in a fast pace, he never knew this is how it feels. He only heard from Dan Heng on how good it is to be inside a woman, his good friend sometimes shares his escapades with him. Leading him to know a lot of sexual activities. Well, whenever he comes across Dan Heng’s room back in the train, he would hear moaning.

“Your mind is wandering..”

Caelus snap back to reality when he heard you voice, he look down at you and saw your pouting lips that he couldn’t help but lean down and kiss you.

“Sorry, just thinking about another girl.”

“Caelus!”

He laugh and kisses you once more before thrusting his hips back again, sooner after you were a mess again. He loves teasing you, he likes to hear your voice lace with annoyance.

“Such a dumb fox, going dumb just because of my cock drilling inside you.”

You huff and moan his name loudly as he let you cum for once again, you’ve lost count and Caelus seems to be not stopping anytime soon. His right, you’re a dumb fox and his a sly bunny. He laid you sideways, placing your right leg on his chest as he thrust his cock again. You’re glad he change the position, it was beginning to tire you out.

Seeing his body, he has some scars and it might be because of the monsters he have been fighting. He also let out low grunts whenever you tighten yourself. He keeps on kissing your leg and time to time he would grope your breast.

“Done checking me out? Don’t worry, you’re the only one who’s allowed to touch me.”

“I know. You’re also the only one who can touch me.”

Caelus smiled and change the position once again and you are laying flat on your stomach with your both legs trap between his legs, arms pin at your back, he thrust his cock back inside you slowly as he let out a groan

“It’s so fucking good to be inside you. Oh fuuuck…”

He will be sure to taste you after you guys take a bath.

“Gonna move now, baby.”

He let go of your arms and move at a inhumane pace as if his chasing something, you let yourself go and just moan his name just like he wants to,

“Cumming! Caelus!”

“Me too! Ugh fuck, come here.”

He let you turn your head slightly so you guys can share a kiss as the both of you came undone. His cum filling you up, hot and thick and you’re sure it’s oozing out from your hole, he came too much. He suck your tongue once more before pulling away from the kiss and leaning back as he kiss your tail before removing his cock, he jerk his cock a bit and covered your back with his cum.

Caelus looks proud at what he has done. He told you stay put as he got up to bring some tissue so he can clean your back before carrying you inside the bathroom.

You watch him clean you and you can tell that your days ahead with him won’t be boring.

“I love you, Cae.”

He looks at you with full of love and adoration. He leans forward and kisses you on the forehead before carrying you.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

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riddlemethis-or-riddlemethat · 1 month

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Hello! If u don't mind i would like to req Tom Riddle x m!reader where reader is an exchange student and surprise surprise he's a parselmouth! So let's say, speaking with animals r common on where he live, n obviously Tom was intrigued

U can do anything w this prompt, sfw, nswf, whatever! I js need to feed my TR brainrot

omg yes!! this is a brilliant idea!!! thank you for requesting, I love this prompt so much

the TR brainrot is so real😔

I made the reader confident, because I felt like they would be interesting to someone as narcissistic as Tom, and he'd probably feel more curious about the new boy who seems so oddly comfortable in what should be this new, unfamiliar environment.

hope you enjoy!

tags: x male reader, kinda ooc Tom? (not really though, this is how I imagine he would act around others at Hogwarts, seeing as he was supposed to be charming and perfect, you know?), suggestive thoughts (Tom has pretty interesting thoughts about reader 😏), cocky!reader, use of y/n, not beta-read

word count: 1564

Fresh Face - TR x male!Slytherin!reader

The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, friends catching up after the holidays, first-years being welcomed to their new houses, excitement and general anticipation for the new year. Tom sat, surrounded by his friends, making idle small talk with a pleasant smile painted on his face.

Suddenly, McGonagall stood at the podium, gesturing for silence. A respectful hush fell over the Hall as people broke off their conversations to tune in.

Some keen individuals began to notice that the Sorting Hat was still out. Other even more observant students noticed the figure stood off the side of McGonagall. Some particularly enterprising students made the connection between these two observations, and concluded that this figure was a new student, about to be sorted.

But that still left the question: why was he separated from the first years?

Only one specific student, Tom, noticed that the figure was a young boy, around his age, who stood with confidence and a calmness that was odd for someone clearly in an unfamiliar environment. Tom also noticed that the boy was dressed in brand new school robes, unmarked but pressed and proper, high quality and perfectly tailored, highlighting the boy’s long legs and muscular chest and strong thighs and-.

Tom moved on.

He noticed more. He noticed movement.

Movement?

Yes, right there, on the boy’s shoulders, around his neck (and what a lovely neck it was, Tom wanted to know what it would look like bruised and with his hands wrapped around it-). A dark, sleek thing, winding about the boy, a small, narrow head, a flicking tongue...

A snake?

Tom watched, in curiosity, as the snake shifted, pressing its face close to the boy's ear, hissing something Tom couldn’t hear, too far away. He watched, in shock, as the boy chuckled, slanting a gaze towards the snake and rolling his eyes (Godric, what Tom wouldn’t give to see those gorgeous eyes roll for another reason-).

Bloody hell, what was with him today, these cursed thoughts were getting out of hand.

Tom watched, intrigued and definitely not obsessively so, as the boy (a parseltongue?), turned back to the podium, attention back on Professor McGonagall, who had finished her speech.

Tom was ashamed to realise he had heard absolutely none of it, and he could only watch as McGonogall turned to the mysterious boy, calling him up.

“Y/n Y/l/n, if you could please come up.” McGonagall called out.

Well, at least he knew his name.

Tom watched as the boy strode up the stage, nodding politely at Professor McGonagall, a small gesture of respect and deference that detracted nothing from his confidence. The snake was still on the boy's shoulders, mostly hidden by the boy’s robes.

The boy, Y/n, sat down on the chair, elegant and comfortable, waiting as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Y/n’s eyes slipped shut for a moment, a small smirk spread across his face as he opened them again, a loud declaration of “Slytherin!” ringing out across the Great Hall from the old hat.

Tom found that a small, barely noticeable twitch had occurred on his own lips, tugging them slightly upward in a mirror of Y/n’s smirk. Tom quickly reigned in his features, unfortunately not before Mattheo, his younger brother, noticed it, a teasing smirk spreading across his face, an expression promising misery later.

Suddenly, gasps rang out across the Great Hall, and Tom watched in awe as the boy gracefully stood from the seat, each movement powerful and controlled. That wasn’t what the mindless fools about him were gasping at, however. They were gaping at the beautiful, gorgeous snake on Y/n’s shoulders, uncurling from where it was looped about his neck, baring its head and hissing out at the crowd.

“Look at these idiots.”

Tom raised a brow at the snake’s rather offensive comment.

Y/n chuckled, a hand lifting to stroke at the snake’s head, a languid smirk on his face as he walked off the stage, joining the Slytherin table amidst hesitant cheers and staggered applause.

“I know, Nyx, I know. But it’s rather funny isn’t it?”

Tom could barely hold back the smirk as he heard your response.

“I suppose...”

Tom grunted in surprise, glaring at Mattheo, who had elbowed him in the ribs, and at Theo and Enzo, who were snickering behind their hands and avoiding his gaze by collapsing into each other.

“What’s got you gawking, Tommy?” Mattheo asked, a cocky smirk on his face as he avoided Tom’s retaliation.

“None of your business.”

“Aww come on, don’t be like that Tommy. I’m your little brother, it’s practically my duty to make it my business.”

Tom scowled, swatting at Mattheo’s head and slapping him, hard.

Mattheo whined, rubbing his head and glaring at Tom.

“You’re mean. And your boy is staring at you.”

Tom was embarrassed at how quickly he turned his head, the tips of his ear flushing slightly and a scowl fixing on his face as Mattheo cackled with Theo and Enzo, laughing at him.

All thoughts of revenge and fratricide were chased out of his mind as he looked at you, your (beautiful, merlin) eyes already staring at him, meeting in a thrilling clash of wills.

The snake, Nyx, flicks its tongue, looking at Tom assessingly.

A shame you were seated so far, Tom had no means of speaking with you right now. Whatever, he was a Prefect, and in your new house. He’d find time.

You smiled passively before turning away, paying attention to the young boy engaging you in conversation.

Tom, too, turned back to his brother and friends, scowl returning as he watched them falling over each other and howling with laughter.

****

You were reading peacefully in the common room, catching up on topics covered at Hogwarts your old school hadn’t covered, when you felt a presence approaching you, and the cold nose of Nyx, your pet snake, pressing against your neck. You look up, seeing Tom Riddle, Slytherin’s perfect prince, heading towards you.

You slid a bookmark into your textbook, marking the page before closing it and setting it aside. As Tom approaches you, he smiles pleasantly, eyes calculating as he greets you.

“Y/l/n, right? Nice to meet you, I’m Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect.” He extends a hand, elegant, pale, and slender. You take it, shaking it in yours and noting how cool it was to the touch in contrast to your own warmth.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Riddle.”

Nyx raises her head, peering at Tom.

“Hello, speaker.” she hisses, and you turn to the snake, brows lifting in surprise. You had been warned that Hogwarts had no speakers.

“Hello, I am Tom Riddle, what is your name?” Tom speaks back, calm and collected.

“Nyx. You seem more intelligent than the buffoons around us.”

You laugh, fond amusement at your snake’s discontent with the lack of intellect surrounding you.

“Sorry about her, she’s crabby about the move.” You hiss, speaking to Tom as you pet Nyx’s smooth scales.

“I was told there were no speakers at Hogwarts. That it was considered... Dark arts.” you speak, tone questioning as you raise a brow at Tom, your eyes appraising.

He just smirks, his eyes equally calculating. “It is considered Dark, yes. And no-one but my closest friends and trusted know of me. You are quite bold to have revealed your... talents, so readily to the whole school, Y/l/n.”

Tom was intrigued, fascinated, curious even. (obsessed~ sings a voice in the back of Tom’s head that sound suspiciously like Mattheo)

“They can’t do anything about me, and I refused to leave Nyx lonely and unattended.” you shrug, smiling at Tom.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Tom raises his brow, smirking at you.

You smirk at him as you pick up your book, standing and walking past him to your dorm room.

“I’ll see you around, Riddle.” You call out over your shoulder.

Tom chuckles to himself as you walk away (and salazar, that ass-), before turning away to return to his dorm for the night.

The minute he walked into the dorm, he was greeted by jeering and snickering from all fronts, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Theodore, the assholes three.

He ignored the hollering of the three idiots, and strode into the en suite bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, it was to be met with Mattheo and Theo looping arms around his shoulders and walking him over to their bed, one either side, and Lorenzo sprawled on his bed, laughing his head off as the Theo-duo menaces traded matching smirks and launched into a merciless interrogation and endless teasing.

****

After substantial ribbing and general bullying from all three fronts, and Mattheo being dramatic and snuggling with Theo and Lorenzo cooing over him in a bed together after Tom hexed him, Tom settled into his own bed, his eyes slipping shut as he systematically went through the memories of his day, filing them away as was demanded.

Eventually, he fell into his memories of you.

Y/n Y/l/n.

Parseltongue, exchange student, smart, snarky, confident. (hot, gorgeous, delicious-)

Curiouser and curiouser.

Tom smirked to himself as he crafted a new room in his mind, one just for you.

He fell asleep with one thought in his mind.

This was going to be interesting.

****

Word Count: 1564

I might do a continuation of this eventually, it's a great idea! thank you so much for the request @prettorett I hope you enjoy this!

🥰🥰

tag: @helendeath this is the fic haha

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #slytherin boys #my fic #fanfic #x male reader #male y/n #tom riddle x male reader #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #reader insert #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

Text

Dating Lo’ak Includes...

Tags: Lo’ak x Reader, Heacanons, Fluff, Dating, Avatar 2, Gn!Reader, More Slight Angst LMAO

Warnings: None

What dating Lo’ak would include.

Look I was crushing on Lo’ak for like the entire movie, of course if Neteyam is getting relationship headcanons so will my boy Lo’ak ‼

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [25/12/22] ❞

Lord he is so cute.

Like Neteyam, he has a very sweet and caring personality, and shows his affection for you through quality time and physical touch.

Just like his dad, he’s got such a cocky and sarcastic mouth on him LMAO

That shit makes you SWOON

Before you even started dating Lo’ak, he was so stubborn about not confessing and simply expected to keep it to himself.

He’s very clumsy with himself though, and sucks at keeping his feelings hidden

It was only a matter of time before you realized what was going on 💀

You honestly find it endearing how nervous and ungraceful he is around you

It’s very easy to probe reactions out of him, so half your conversations are either playful banter or teasing

He’s pretty reckless so sometimes when you go on dates it’s not the most safe or well thought out plan...💀

The majority of decisions in your relationship is honestly based off of impulsive choices. Dude can’t be methodical for his LIFE

He’s disobedient and will literally do the opposite of what you tell him to do just so you guys can play fight LMFAO

Now, we all know how Lo’ak feels like the odd one out in his family.

He makes bad choices, gets into trouble, and overall feels like he’s second best to his older brother.

So of course, his recalcitrant attitude is a way he builds walls around himself.

But honestly? This attitude we know and love is probably a façade.

Deep down, all he wants to do is prove his worth and be helpful, but all it does it backfire on him.

He’s been hurt time and time again, seeing himself as an outcast and a failure.

As his significant other, you make him feel appreciated and valued, because you see him for who he really is and love him as he is.

For once, Lo’ak doesn’t feel like an outsider. He feels like he doesn’t have to prove himself with you.

Despite this, Lo’ak is still an independent lover and enjoys his alone time.

He has a difficult time relying on other people, and the fact that he’s let you in this much means a lot.

I can see him playing both sides of the relationship. Some days he’ll take the initiative, and other times he just wants to be held by you.

Dude THRIVES in chaos. If you’re disobedient too? Y’all are reckless idiots together.

Is also an overprotective lover. Absolutely will not hesitate to beat the shit out of someone who tries to talk badly upon your name.

It doesn’t matter if you’re being directly harassed or trash talked behind your back, trust that Lo’ak will be ready to punt some bitches into next week.

Imagine patching him up after punch fights omg??? I just KNOW he loves it when you run your hands over his knuckles and kiss them better.

Please comfort my boy on his appearance :((

He’s got a sarcastic and unwavering personality, yes, but don’t doubt the fact that he can get insecure about how he looks sometimes.

Part of the reason why he loves when you kiss his knuckles is because you remind him every part of him is loveable; even the human bits.

You make the darkest parts of himself feel seen; and he will always be thankful he has someone like you that embraces all of him.

#↳˳☁️;; ❝ headcanons ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗:#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar headcanons #avatar 2 headcanons #headcanons #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #lo'ak imagine #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak fanfiction #gender neutral reader #lo'ak x you #i love my men emo #fluff #slight angst #again #i love lo'ak

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elisysd · 3 months

Text

3. Wonder why you took a risk on a broken heart you cannot fix

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Purple Irises - Gwen Stefani, Blake Shelton

Another DNF. On a track he loved and had witnessed him achieving great performances. But now, being out after not even a corner, it was painful. He knew he couldn’t have done anything to avoid it but still, it was a bitter feeling. And a feeling that didn’t go away when he saw you waiting for him, your mic ready. He hadn’t talked to you ever since that day at the restaurant, didn’t ask for your number, didn’t ask for your social media, didn’t ask for anything and a part of him regretted it. Kind of. He had promised to show you not everyone was untrustworthy but didn’t even think to ask for a means to contact you. He knew it was stupid but he hated empty promises. He was man of his word and to think he could let you down like everybody else was unsettling for him.

He moved to you, Silvia by his side and gulped, bracing himself for a petty question that surprisingly didn’t come through.

“A very sad day for you Charles, can you tell us what happened with Lance?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been able to watch the images yet but I guess he thought he had space and clearly, it was not the case.”

“Two DNF in three races, it’s not the start of the season you hoped it would be. What are your plans for now?”

“See what went wrong and try to learn from it with the team. That’s the best we can do and we will come back stronger next time.”

“Thank you Charles.”

As she was cutting her microphone he saw you looking at him.

“I’m sorry about the race. Truly.”

“No teasing this time?” he asked, surprised.

“I’m not a heartless monster.” you replied as Silvia pushed him to go talk to other media.

The meeting with her team went nice. They talked a bit about race, debriefing each other's interventions of the day and looked at what they should have done better. You were happy when Marion told you that you had improved, your questions sharper and more precise, and happy, you had decided to wander the paddock in search of new information or to meet interesting new people. That is something you’ve always liked to do, hanging out somewhere to get the atmosphere and to have conversations with people who could provide you with new enlightenments about contracts, performances or any changes inside the teams. You had learned it while being in New-York, during one of your internships while you were covering basketball games where your boss had told you to let your ears wander. A few words that you were clinging onto. Near the Mercedes hospitality, you had not expected to run into Mick who was coming out of it, a bottle of water in his hands. Out of habits you smiled at him, giving him a little nod which he took as an invitation to talk to you.

“Hey! I saw you around, right? The new interviewer for French TV?”

“That should be me, yes. Y/N, nice to meet you.” you greet him.

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mick. The discussion flowed, laughter could be heard from the other side of the paddock and soon the sun was setting. He was friendly, caring, and offered her to sit somewhere so they didn’t have to stand in the middle of the way.

“You know, I’m going to a bowling place tonight with some friends. Do you want to tag along?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s very professional of me.”

“No pressure, of course. The offer stands but we all need to let go from time to time.” he added, winking at you before leaving.

You spent another half an hour debating with yourself on whether or not you should go. You could use some friends for sure, and Mick is not a bad guy, you know it. He doesn’t have any hidden agenda behind his kindness, he just genuinely wants to get to know you and be your friend. And you saw how some journalists are buddy-buddy with the drivers, including in your own team. So why couldn’t you? You took a deep breath and decided that for once, you would have fun. And it had been a while since you had gone to a bowling area. You quickly went back to your hotel room to change into more comfortable clothes and you met Mick there. You recognised Esteban there as well and you were not surprised, you knew the two drivers were closed.

You had fun. More fun than what you expected coming here. You sucked at bowling but it didn’t stop you from laughing. You also enjoyed Esteban’s calm confidence and how laid back he was. You told him you felt sorry about his crash with Pierre, Alpine could have realized something amazing out there.

“I know, I’m gutted. It’s not the start of the season we hoped it would be, for sure. But the season is long, so we have time to improve.”

“I’m sure it will keep on being better, Esteban. Trust your team.” Mick said, coming to them, a grin on his face. He sat down next to you before turning his head in your direction. “I’m glad you decided to come. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I’m happy I did, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this relaxed.” you confessed. “I don’t have many friends, I’m not good at making connections.”

“Well you have us, now.” Mick shrugged.

“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll betray you?”

“Do you intend to?”

“No.” you admitted after a few seconds.

“Then it’s all good.” he smiled.

“You trust people easily, you know. A little too easily.”

“A few years ago, I wasn’t like that. I was doubting everyone and everything. I thought people only wanted to be around me because of my dad and not because of me. And then I decided to stop caring because usually those people end up leaving at the first obstacle. It’s better to give people a chance than being closed off. My friends are basically my second family, my home away from home. I’m a family guy, it’s tough for me to be away from them, so that’s why my friends are so important.”

“I’m not that close to my family.” you confessed and your heart wrenched at the thought.

“Because of your job?”

“That and I made a few mistakes in the past that really altered our relationship. And a lot of regrets, mostly about my brother. When you’re halfway across the world, it’s tough to be there when he needs you most. I should have been there for him.”

“It’s never too late to fix things.”

You gave him a sad smile and a shrug. You don’t want to bother him with your complicated family’s stories. And frankly, you don’t want to think about them.

“I understand you know, the regrets. I have so many when I think about my dad. I’ve never told him I loved him enough, I should have told him everyday. I even regret things that are so far ahead in the future, like my wedding, my first kid… I often think about how he won’t be completely there to see all of that.” he bitterly said.

“At least he is there. Even if it’s not how you want it.”

“I guess.”

When you ended up leaving, after this very heartfelt conversation, you felt somehow relieved. Maybe he was right, you didn’t have to assume the worst about people. You took your phone out of your pocket and looked at your lock screen. A picture of you and your brother. You smiled tenderly, you missed him.

Coming back to Paris and to your flat felt weird after such magical weeks. The gloomy weather made you regret the sun on your skin and you definitely didn’t miss the messy public transportation. Your days were filled with preparing the next races, organizing a few livestreams here and there where you invited fans to talk about the first few races of the season. And thanks to your connection at Alpine and the good relationship you had started to build with the drivers you even managed to get an interview from Pierre where you get to talk about his first weeks in his new team. It had been a nice and chill discussion more than an interview and you were happy to see that people had liked the concept and hoped you would keep it going with other people.

Despite how happy you were feeling about your week, it had still been a busy one and you couldn’t wait to go home and hop in your shower to relax before going out again to meet your best friend in a nice parisian restaurant. You arrived earlier than her and got to your table as the waiter gave you the menu and asked if you wanted to drink something. You ordered a Martini and started to wait for her, scrolling on your phone to pass the time. But as if fate had decided to play with you tonight, right when you decided to lift your chin, you saw him entering the restaurant. Charles Leclerc. And in good company if you could judge by the brunette walking right behind him. A date you thought to yourself. You unconsciously sat further down in your seat in hope he wouldn’t recognise you. You couldn’t help but give him little glances, your curiosity getting the best out of you. It didn’t last long, though, as your friend soon arrived and Charles wasn’t in your mind anymore.

“You have so many things to tell me and I have so many questions for you!”

You laughed. She has always been your number one supporter no matter what you were going through in your life. You didn’t expect anything else from her. Happily, you told her everything, even the slightest detail.

“So, who is the hottest? And is there anyone who is single?” she whispered to you as if you were both part of a gigantic conspiracy.

“I don’t know, I don’t really think about it. And I don’t have the mental space for that.”

She knew what you were implying. She knew all too well. She put a hand on yours and squeezed it gently before diverting the discussion to a lighter topic. The conversation flowed until your friend received a call. She quickly apologized to take it in a quieter space and came back a few minutes later, biting her lip, visibly worried.

“I got a call from my mom… my grandmother fell at home and she hit her head. She is at the hospital… I’m sorry I have to cut our dinner short, but…”

“Dont. I understand. Go.” you reassured her as she threw her arms around you and kissed your cheek before making her way out.

He was fed up. Clearly, he was not having the time of his life. The girl right in front of him had been sent by Ferrari and Silvia in another attempt to set him up with someone. No pressure, she had told him, she just wanted him to meet her and who knows? Maybe they would hit it off. And if it wasn’t the case, then she would leave him alone. For now. So he had agreed, a few weeks of peace seemed like a good option.

But he was bored out of his mind. The girl, who seemed nice, he had nothing against her, was agreeing to everything he was saying and was waiting for him to hold the conversation. He hated that. He needed someone who could challenge him, someone who didn’t care about who he was and clearly the brunette in front of him wasn’t what he wanted. They weren’t even at the main course that she had already mentioned the growth of her following and the new opportunities being seen with him would bring her, if they decided to date. He hated it. And he didn’t intend to spend one more minute in her presence. When the waiter came to take their order, he looked him straight in the eyes.

“You know, come to think of it, I’m not hungry. Can I have the bill instead?”

He knew it was a dick move, and if his mother would hear of it she would most certainly give him an earful. But it would still be more enjoyable than sitting there. He apologized, quickly made sure that the girl knew he had no interest in going out with her another day and made his way out to pay. That’s when he noticed you, alone, sipping on your drink. He could laugh. Out of all places, he had to cross your path. As if acting on their own, his feet carried him to your table.

“Fancy, seeing you here.” he said, making you look up. He expected to see a surprised look on your face but it wasn’t the case. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, making him slightly uncomfortable. “What are you doing here, all alone? A date who hasn’t shown up?”

“I was supposed to meet my friend but she couldn’t stay for long, an emergency came up. So here I am, sipping my drink, alone. It’s okay. I’m enjoying my very own company. And that very tasteful assortment of pastries. I most likely won’t be able to eat that alone, though.” you shrugged, putting a piece of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“You know, I’m in a mood for sweet… care to share?”

You were about to offer him to sit with you when he quickly recalled that his date was still there.

“Actually, would you mind getting a doggy bag and going elsewhere to eat? I kind of want to get the hell out of here.”

“Your date wasn’t that good, I assume then.” you said as a matter of fact.

“How did you…”

“I have eyes. I saw you.”

“You saw me…” he repeated, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I was facing the door.”

And suddenly he felt stupid about trying to see a deeper meaning in her words than what she intended to.

Out of the restaurant, they both wandered along the docks, enjoying the fresh air and the almost empty streets, the bag of cakes between them as they were sharing in a natural way. Almost as if they had done it all their life. Charles told her all about his very bad date and enjoyed making her laugh.

“Glad to see my very poor and inexistent love life is entertaining.” he smiled.

“It really is. I mean, look at you. You have the fame, the money, the good looks you could have anyone you wanted and here you are, having the exact same issues as us common people.”

“Believe it or not, but dating has become harder and harder the more famous I become. Whatever that means. We are all searching for the same thing, at the end of the day and famous or not. We want someone to complete us. Someone we feel good with.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy to find.”

“Clearly not.”

They kept walking in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

“I’m shocked you don’t try to pry or snoop around. You could ask so many questions about the season and try to get insides… but you don’t. Why?”

“I’m outside of my job hours. Right now, I’m just Y/N and not Y/N the very insufferable journalist. And you hate my questions, it’s me who should be shocked that you want to hear them.”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t understand why I seem to be the only one to be on the receiving end of your bluntness. Every freaking time.” he defended himself.

You let out a sigh.

“They are legitimate questions and they are always validated by the team before being asked, if something was out of line they would tell me and I wouldn’t ask them.” you simply said.

Charles felt that there must be something else, something she wasn’t saying but they didn’t know each other well enough for him to dare ask her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her repressing a yawn.

“It’s late, do you need someone to drive you back home safely?” he asked.

“No.” she immediately said. “I mean, it’s kind of you, really. This whole hour talking felt nice but I’m not sure it’s something that should have happened. I know I can make friends with drivers, and some journalists do it, but I don't think I can, personally. That’s just not how it works for me. It would make my job harder and I need a clear mind to focus.” you tried to explain, perfectly aware of how hypocritical you sound.

“Do you say the same things to all drivers or do I receive special treatment?”

You opened and closed your mouth. You didn’t want to lie to him and somehow he read it in your eyes that it’s not that you didn’t want to have friends among the drivers. You just didn’t want to be his friend. And somehow it hurt more than what he expected.

Author's note: Happy first GP of the season! To celebrate it, here's the new chapter! I hope you liked it.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism

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greyskyflowers · 9 months

Text

Someone used the tag bloodhound Zoro on one of my posts recently and FRIEND I'm so glad someone else thinks that way.

The guard dog/bloodhound dynamic is one of my absolute favorites when done correctly, especially with characters who are the embodiment of that type of dynamic.

Not sure if I have any leverage fans hanging around but I see this dynamic used with Elliot a lot and it's always really well done in that fandom.

Territorial

Loyal

Protective

Fearless

Alert

Adaptable

A little bloodthirsty

I could point out every instance of Zoro showcasing these characteristics and I could imagine every scenario that could happen for fic ideas.

But my favorite is the side that not everyone gets to see.

Being soft only for the people who matter

Coming back bloody from fighting and patiently waiting for affection

Only being able to relax with certain people

The love and trust needed to allow yourself to be vulnerable around someone

💚

Have some soft, guard dog Zoro brainstorm dust bunnies. Although he's 100% a guard cat if we're being honest.

Petting along his jaw and down his throat in soothing and firm touches.

It takes time but he lets them at his neck, belly, and back. When they grab around his waist they brush fingers against his side, barely feeling ribs under the muscles layered over them. Rubbing his shoulders and down along his spine when he falls asleep around them. The skin of his back so soft and smooth compared to the rest of his body. It's sensitive and breaks out in little goosebumps when they linger.

He's an oversized cat.

He goes from only light napping with his back against something to complete trust.

His head tipped back and his throat is left completely vulnerable. He curls on his side or lays on his front, back fully exposed. He sprawls on his back with arms tossed out to the side or over his head, belly left unguarded.

He doesn't wear shirts as much, skin growing warmer and warmer under all the sun until he's a full canvas of sun kissed skin. It makes his eyes pop, the green of his hair more vivid, and the color of his lips more distracting. The occasional flush that graces his cheeks is harder to spot but they're skilled at looking for it now.

He seeks out affection once he knows he'll get it and he's willing to let them give it.

Sleeping curled against someone's side, face pressed to their necks like he's tucking himself away in them. Draping across their laps like an oversized kitten, blinking up at them slowly until they take the hint and pet at him.

Sometimes when they're somewhere off ship or someone is traveling with them, he gets restlessness in a way that says he wants that affection. It's a way to relax, to uncoil all the tension in his muscles, and a way to show his care for them. He doesn't do well with words, but they all speak love differently and they know what he means.

He doesn't do that in front of anyone other than crew though and they're okay with that. The idea of Zoro being vulnerable around strangers makes them protective and the thought of anyone but crew seeing that side of him at all makes them feel possessive.

Only crew gets to see each other so innocent, vulnerable, exposed, submissive.

So they find work arounds.

Luffy sleeping curled around Zoro's back and possessive arms wrapped around the swordman's waist. Satisfying the urge for closeness and touch but still protected, all vulnerable spots hidden from anyone else's eyes.

After all, no one blinks an eye at Luffy clinging to Zoro.

Luffy presses his face into the back of Zoro's neck and top of his spine, biting marks into the skin because sometimes he's not good with words either. Zoro doesn't even flinch, still asleep and completely trusting of Luffy to do what's best.

Luffy passes it off loudly in the morning with cries of dreams filled with meat and Sanji can they have a bunch of meat for breakfast please?

Zoro doesn't hide it because he doesn't hide anything Luffy gives him and the crew all get stuck on it through the day. Staring at the skin, where the bruising has pulled blood to the surface and painted it different colors. The darker spots where teeth had been pressed.

The only mark anywhere near his back and it was given willingly. He isn't ashamed of the bruises on the top of his spine, almost flaunting them as he trains shirtless in the afternoon sun. Skin glowing with sweat and everyone within eye sight trying to discreetly stare.

It's not the last mark he gets and it becomes common for him to have marks and bruises on his skin. Bright colors and dark hues in shapes of fingers and mouths, usually resting by the hinge of his jaw, the top of his spine, or the top of his hips and lower belly, where there's just the very slightest hint of stubborn softness clinging.

💚

Am I obviously obsessed with Zoro being feral?

Showing his affection by letting people at vulnerable spots they could use to easily hurt him?

Is my soft, bottom, and/or submissive Zoro bias showing?

Yes

#one piece #zolu #zoro #luffy #nami #sanji #usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky one piece #brook one piece #straw hat pirates #mugiwarapirates #heavy hints of poly andor qp crew #let zoro bottom you cowards #soft zoro #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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