#(but still so stunned by the beauty of this sweet bird)

[zephyrenn]

After 140 years I hope we’re worthy of seeing more of you, Auwo 🧡

#auwo #black-naped pheasant-pigeon #pheasant-pigeon #critically endangered #endangered #scientific illustration #natural history illustration #illustration #pigeon #bird #art #reference is from the camera trap footage released #and also other pheasant-pigeons for the legs (a bit blurry in the footage) #(but still so stunned by the beauty of this sweet bird)

[b-00-biez]

Please do slashers with a reader who giggles and covers her face when they compliment her because she is not used to being told nice things and is extra shy. Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees and Brahms Heelshire, if it's not too much trouble! 🙏🏻 If they are too many, feel free to choose whichever you feel like writing for the most! Thank you before hand! ❤️

awwww thank you this one is so adorable!

Slashers with an adorable and shy s/o

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Jason Vorhees, Brahms Heelshire

Thomas Hewitt

He is also shy and if you return nice compliments hes gonna be shy about it too🥺

He really loves how you giggle it warms his heart and would punch Hoyt if he ever says something bad about it

You might act like that with Luda Mae but its very special when its just the two of you

You both were cooking dinner and the dipping sauce exploded in his face. You cant help but giggle

He was so embarrassed and kinda fell in love all over again? like his heart went OAJEJHFFOEBFKDBF

He just looks at you and you get all shy and flustered , he didn't even say anything!

He feels reassured that you feel flustered and actually see him as a man that makes your heart go crazy.

Bubba Sawyer

Also goes fucking crazy

Like youre just so fucking adorable

How the fuck did he even bagged you???

When you go shy he also goes shy

When you laugh or giggle and cover your mouth out of habit or shrink in bashfulness if he does something sweet for you

His brothers even tease him for it like "get a room!" or "those two love birds"

He does cute things too , if you cover your face he pries your hands off just to look at your blushing cheeks

The way he looks at you in pure awe just makes your cheeks even redder

HE TWIRLS YOU AROUND IF YOU KEPT ACTING SO CUTE AROUND HIM

Jason Vorhees

You both act like middle school couples

Like those cringey but sweet things you both do

Although he got robbed of growing up like a normal kid he just feels like a normal human being with you

You are so shy around him and it makes him feel at home

He stays silent but he gives you flowers and little antics from campers

HE WOULD FUCKING CARVE YOUR INTIALS ONTO A TREE

If you cover your face when you're shy he just cups your cheeks and stares at you or pulls you closer into a hug!

Brahms Heelshire

He makes you blush in an old fashion way

He writes you letters even though hes literally just in your walls

He calls you stunning ,gorgeous, beautiful like a gentleman , like those guys in their 40s that are either still single or have a lovely wife

When you blush he caresses your cheek with his thumb and looks at you longingly saying your name so sweetly

He purposely makes you blush like holds you close from the back or pulls you in unexpectedly

HE PURPOSELY BRUSHES THE LIPS OF HIS MASK AGAINST YOUR SOFT LIPS THEN JUST ACTS LIKE IT DIDN'T HAPPEN?!??

I swear he loves how adorable and bashful you are around him so you better not act like that to other guys ahem ahem delivery boy

I'm sorry it's not that long, I got a little rusty after my hiatus😭💕 but hope yall like it

#slasher fucker #slasher x you #slashers x reader #slasher imagines #slasher headcanons #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #brahms x you #thomas hewitt headcanon #thomas hewitt #bubba sawyer headcanons #bubba sawyer #jason vorhees imagine #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms x reader

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Break it first

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 2

Prompt: Came back wrong

Rated: M

CW: Mind control/brainwashing; Possessive behavior; Referenced character death; Aftermath of trauma; Aftermath of injury; Kidnapping

Tags: Kas!Eddie Munson; Dark Eddie Munson

Notes: So, I already had a fill for this prompt, but then @house-of-the-moving-image showed me this stunning piece of art and my brain broke like Steve's. We both have a bunch of other fills coming up for this challenge, quite a few of them collabs, and I'm so, so stoked to share!!! ❤️

He still remembers how fragile Steve looked. 

They were in the boat house, Steve and Eddie. The others had gone out for supplies, but Steve had insisted on hanging back. Eddie hadn’t protested, even though the thought made his heart rabbit. 

The second they were alone, Steve let himself slide down the wall and curled into a ball on the floor, face hidden between hunched knees, shaking hands clawing at his own temples. 

“Hey, man!” Eddie jumped in alarm. “You okay?” 

Steve took a while to reply. 

“Fine,” he claimed, but his smile was a tense thing in a too-pale face. “Just headaches. Been getting them a lot. Robin thinks it's 'cause I got knocked around a few times too many." 

Eddie quirked an eyebrow, pulled a strand of hair in front of his face. "That … happen often in your line of business?" 

And Steve told him. 

About fighting monsters with nothing but a nail bat. About Billy Hargrove. About Russian torture chambers and the headaches and the nightmares and the ringing in his right ear that never really went away. He looked so young, so beautiful, so broken. Eddie wanted to scoop him up and put him back together and hold him close so that nothing would ever hurt him again. 

But he didn't. 

Instead, he watched. 

Watched how Steve squared his shoulders and put on a brave face for the kids. Watched as Steve threw himself to the front lines so that others wouldn’t have to. Watched as Steve got choked and torn apart, that golden skin painted in new scars, and told everyone not to worry, he was fine.

Eddie watched and Eddie didn't do a thing. 

Because Eddie was weak. 

Eddie was a coward.

It's a good thing he's dead. 

*

Steve is still the one to throw himself into danger first. That's good. It makes it easy to catch him alone. 

"You still have the scar on your neck …" 

A flick of his wrist and the bats scatter into the clouds. Steve curses, scrambles to his knees, gropes for his fallen weapon- and freezes as he cradles his face in both hands, tilting his head up. 

"... Eddie?" 

"Not quite," he hums, sharp claws carding through soft hair. "I have his body and his memories, that's all. The name's Kas. I've been dying to meet you, sweet thing." 

Those caramel eyes go wide. Steve tenses under his hands, tries to scramble away. That's okay, to be expected. He tightens his grip. Steve gasps as the vines on the ground wrap around his wrists and ankles. 

"What are you-?" 

"Sssh…" he brings their foreheads together, softly, slowly. Lets his mind wiggle inside the boy's, just a sliver at first, so he won't notice. Finds a crack, fine as a hairline, slips inside. Waits. "He was so in love with you, y'know that? It ate him alive, watching you sacrifice yourself over and over again. Seeing you suffer. Being unable to help, being unable to fix it." 

Steve's mind flutters like a frightened bird as he encases it with his, gently, carefully. His arms twitch in their restraints, trying to break free.

He smiles. Always the fighter, his sweet boy.

"Dont worry," he coos. “I’ve got it all figured out now sweetheart. I’ll fix everything, promise." 

"Eddie, wait-" Steve's mind flails. Realizes it's trapped, panicks, tries to break free- 

And he pounces. 

Steve struggles, briefly, but he doesn’t stand the ghost of a chance. He's human, and humans are weak. All it takes is a little pressure, and the tiny crack opens wide, welcoming him in. 

Steve screams.

"I know, sweet thing, I know," he coos, curls himself around the boy's spasming body as he digs in deeper. "It'll only hurt for a moment. You'll feel so much better after."

He sees them now, the scars on that beautiful mind, the traces left by years and years of hurt. Sees how to fix them, sees what Eddie could never have seen. What Eddie was too soft, too cowardly to understand.

Sometimes, to fix something, you need to break it first. 

And he does.

Tears at the cracks of that mind until it comes apart at the seams, shatters the fragments into so many tiny shards, grinds what is left into fine, fine dust. Steve screams and sobs and begs him to stop until his voice breaks. By the time the dust is ready to be molded back into shape, he is silent, bar for the occasional whimper.

He tells the vines to release their hold, cradles the limp body against his chest. He hums softly and kisses the tears from under the boy's unblinking eyes while he completes his work. He takes his time. This needs to be perfect. 

"You with me, darling?" 

Steve hums against the crook of his neck, so softly he nearly misses it. 

When he looks down, those pretty eyes are blinking up at him, wide and wondrous like those of a newborn. 

He chuckles. It's true in a way. 

"Feeling all better?" he asks, claws softly tracing the shell of his boy's right ear. "Ringing should be gone?" 

Steve doesn’t reply, just slips his eyes shut and nuzzles closer, every movement slow and sluggish. 

He coos.

"Aw, sweetheart. You must be exhausted, that was a lot to take." He gently scratches at Steve's scalp, revels in the little sigh it gets him. "Don't worry. From now on, nothing's gonna hurt you ever again. I'll make sure of it." 

Steve stirs a little at the soft press of lips against his forehead. His lids flutter, but they don’t open.

"That's it, honey, you rest. Let's take you home now." 

By the time he has adjusted Steve's weight so that he can stand and start walking, his boy is fast asleep. 

All of my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[staarri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨 — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡.

c.  scaramouche

character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, angsty-ish, scaramouche is still in the fatui, this is a work of fiction

      fluff     ,    love letter     .      word count : roughly 0.9k

t. @aventurne @tragedy-of-commons @yvnaology @nyoomiin

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s busy, constantly busy, awake even during the most ungodly hours of the night and constantly rubbing at his eyes from his exhaustion. It’s no surprise the Fatui are overworking him again. What’s funny is that he’s sitting at his desk, a pile of papers on the right side–all reports from his underlings–were unnoticed; all of it, even the chirping of the birds as the sun rose and showed the start of a new day, Scaramouche was stuck on a piece of paper in front of him with the words that reads, To my dearest.

There's no way he can capture your beauty on a cheap piece of parchment . He should’ve bought something expensive instead, like a new set of clothes he thinks you’ll like. But lately you’ve just seemed so distant. He needs to reach you somehow. You’ve been driven away by the lies his mouth spills and now, he’s suffering with the consequences, and not once will he ever say it to you, but he needs you to stick with him while he tries to better himself.

So here he is: a fountain pen in hand, wasting his time with something so.. childish. Who writes letters anyway, isn't it something you did as a child towards someone you liked? 

Call him a child then. Call him old-fashioned, traditional, and in love. Call him whatever you like, because in the end he’s yours, and he’s always been. 

He’s let his thoughts linger for too long and suddenly it's 7 am. His eyebags have never been worse and his mind is tired, not from his job, but from this stupid letter he’s made no progress on. To my dearest should be good enough, right? I mean, you were easy to please. He was sure that it would be more than enough for you. 

How tiring. He says, mindlessly scribbling on the paper, jet-black ink scattered all throughout and splattering around the words. Was he angry? Not at all. Frustrated, yes, but for a good reason–to think he did this just because you two were friends was infuriating. Shouldn’t you two be something more?

You were pretty, far too pretty for him to describe. Scaramouche thought his vocabulary was wide enough, but this letter alone has him searching for the words he once knew. Your eyes, leaving him feeling small in a never ending forest and your smile–god, your smile was intoxicating. It would give light to the things he’s been hiding from you this entire time. Your laugh–your voice, sweet and soft, loud and oh-so clear. How you’d bring it down to a whisper when you feel embarrassed about admitting something, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when your smile lines just seem so fitting for someone like you.

What was so special about you? 

You were like the sunset on the beaches, glowing. Absolutely stunning, ethereal, lighting everything in a bright orange, his eyes becoming a mix of brown and a dark blue. He’s different around you, he's a completely different person. From the color of his eyes to the racing of his heart, to the feeling that he wasn’t getting enough air whenever you hold his hand–but you’d do it in a friendly way. You don't squeeze his hand too tight, you let go when necessary and don’t leave any kind of touch lingering for far too long.

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s bad with words and he can’t tell you the things you want to hear;he can’t provide you with the touch you crave, he can’t make up his mind. One moment he’s thinking about just giving you a whole bag of mora for you to use for your next trip, the other he’s thinking about finishing this damn letter that has plagued his mind ever since you first whispered the fact you appreciate him.

There’s no way he can treat you right. There’s absolutely no way he will be perfect, that he’ll be the partner that’ll leave such a mark on you. But god, ask for the world and he will give it to you. Name one thing and when you wake up it's right at your nightstand. Choose the ring and its design, he’ll get a matching one that you yourself decided on as well. Just say the word because he is a child in love.

So here he is, an envelope in hand. Going to the nearest flower shop to buy something that will still wilt under the sun after a few days. He will not love, and can’t love the same way as you, but he will learn how to. 

Call him stupid;call him an idiot for falling for someone he knows is way too out of his league. But that’s all he is, and it's far too late to change that. He might lose you at some point, and that's really what scares him the most. 

Suddenly he’s standing at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and you’d be confused who in the world decided to bring you a sunflower and a piece of envelope in the middle of the day–you don't recall ordering anything. 

He didn’t even get to sign it.  Maybe next time he can get it right… for his dearest.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

#🎏 : my works #astronetwrk #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche x gn reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche headcannons #wanderer #wanderer genshin impact #wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader fluff #kunikuzushi #ahhhhhhrhrrggg #ty to gwen and hanyi 4 proof readingm

[naffeclipse]

Heya @skizabaa! I'm your Secret Skeleton! I might have gone a bit over the word count minimum, but I had so much fun writing this! Your interests/likes are exactly my jam and I loved crafting this little piece for a cozy and sweet Halloween treat for you! I hope you enjoy some creature Sun and a Y/N who wants a friend!

The Harpy and Hazel Trees

Harpy!Sun & Reader

Word Count: ~3,500 Warnings: N/A

You’re so used to the quiet—birds calling to each other, crying out about the cold, and the buzz of the last insects filling the air with the gentle crunch of leaves underneath your feet, fallen off the hazel trees. Your lone heartbeat pulses within your ears. 

The quiet eats away at you in the way a caterpillar gnaws away at a leaf: slowly devoured. And yet, you remain. There’s still more of you left to be eaten. It surprises you every time you think you can’t take another moment of silence, of a lack of another’s voice.

Behind your simple wooden cottage, you kneel. Only a pale brown fence marks your lost lot within the forest for the deer merrily prances over it. Knees sinking down into the moist earth, you tug out the last few weeds crowding your pumpkins though they are only weeds in name. The plants, you’ve learned, hold nutrients that pair well in salads. You won’t have fresh greens for much longer.

Autumn sweeps back as if this was always its home, and you, its guest. Your garden is bursting with foods that make the harvest moon happy and the dreaded months of winter bearable. The late-season sun heats the crown of your head and strokes your hair, but it is not a substitute for a friend.

You toil away, cleaning out weeds, plucking fat cucumbers, and snatching a wide green head of lettuce. You’ll have a wonderful bowl of fresh salad tonight and cook an egg to go with it. Your chickens are still producing well but when the cold of the dying year steps in, the chickens will convert their egg-laying efforts to keeping warm, and you don’t blame them. 

These winters are brutal, on body and heart.

You shiver under a cool wind. A gust flips leaves of dill and oregano and you mutter of the cold to no one.

Then a shadow falls over you. You lift your head.

You startle in your garden. Perched on your fence just a few feet away from you is a beast, one with a rather wide grin at that. A harpy. He tilts his disk-like head, a large mouth displaying sharp teeth fit for pulling meat off of bones. Beautiful feathers sway around his face, long and curved, bright as sunshine and exquisite. He holds a rather polite expression; if only you could ignore the sharp teeth. 

His wide eyes, the color of cornflowers, hold the intensity of the hawk but soften upon gazing at you. His body is covered in a finer layer of plumage, off-white and yellow, with wings for arms and long claws on the ends of his fingers, though his large, raptor-like feet wield talons that currently balance upon your poor fence. He wears no shirt but an ascot tie of silky ruby around his thin throat. Billowy pants conceal his animalistic legs, stripped in a bright pattern of red and yellow. His wings are gently tucked against his side, hands curled in front of his chest in an almost nervous, shy manner. Radiant feathers of scarlet and gold decorate his wingspan. 

You understand immediately that he is beautiful and, perhaps, dangerous.

“Hello, I’m so sorry to drop in like this,” he begins, voice bouncing and cheerful, though a touch strained. “I hope I haven’t startled you.”

You slowly get to your feet, stunned. You clear your throat, afraid of how raspy your voice will be—the only conversations you hold are with the chickens and the goat. 

“I don’t usually get company out here,” you begin, though you sound a touch defensive. You clear your throat again. “Are you lost?”

“Lost?” The harpy cocks his head to the other side, feathers swaying like a rooster’s tail. “Oh, well, I’m only lost in that I have yet to find what I’m looking for and that I don’t know what I’m looking for yet, but the most pressing matter, currently, is the oncoming storm.”

He lifts one wing, long fingers nearly hidden under the cloak of gold and scarlet feathers, to point to the sky behind you. Careful to not turn your back on the stranger, you glance in the direction.

The harpy is right. Creeping forward are black, angry clouds. They gather low, pushing through the blue skies like a stain of ash. The storm wasn’t climbing the horizon this morning but swiftly it arrived.

He is being very polite, you muse.

“Oh,” you say, then face the harpy again. You clasp your dirt-covered hands, wishing you had thought to wear your apron so you might make yourself a little more decent. Of course, who could have predicted a visitor? Certainly not you. “Yes. I assume you don’t want to be caught in it? You’ve probably flown a long way here, no doubt.”

“No doubt,” he echoes with a grin that’s still toothy but much less sharp. His eyes upturned, the cornflower color beaming. “Could I trouble you for shelter for the evening? I won’t be in your way and I’ll gladly stay in your chicken coop or wherever won’t disturb you.”

You laugh gently. The harpy waits, his nervous hands returning once more to his chest, feathers rustling.

“Oh no, you’re far too big to stay in the chicken coop. You’ll scare my rooster half to death.” You look at him, resting a hand on your hip, forgetting the dirt caked on it. “No, you’ll come inside and out of the storm. The wind that will come will be fierce.”

“Oh!” The harpy leaps from the fence in a flurry of plumage. You start at the snap of his wings but find yourself gazing up into his towering expression, his smile absolutely delighted. “Thank you, friend! You’re so sweet!”

You look away, coughing once, unsure how to take the title he already bestows upon you. Is it even true? Could it be?

“It’s nothing,” you give. 

You bend down and snap a pumpkin from its stem, the bright orange gourd is more than ready to be harvested for its seeds. On second thought, you’ll roast pumpkin seeds and have a stew today. A meal that will honor your harpy guest as much as your little garden can. 

“Would you take this into the cottage for me?” you ask, pointing. The harpy is watching you closely, his head ticking with sharp adjustments to his gaze, his alertness unparalleled and fascinating. “I could use a hand for a few other things, too… friend. If you don’t mind.”

You hesitated, but saying it out loud dusts a lightness in your chest.

“Of course!” He kneels and scoops the pumpkin into his feathered arms as if it were a mere trifle, not a fully grown vegetable. His claws carefully cradle the orange shell. “My name is Sun. I am at your service!”

You give your name in return.

It’s been so long since you’ve heard someone call for you, but when Sun says it, you feel a little more alive. A little more real.

“Do you like stew?” you ask, plucking your gathered leafy goods that will wait in the cupboard until tomorrow, and lead the way to the back door of the cottage. 

“Stew sounds heavenly compared to what I've been scourging these last few days—bugs and berries and other bitter things!” Sun’s jubilee voice is no less dampened by recounting his horrid meals. “Yes, stew sounds lovely. How might I help you, friend?”

He doesn’t see you smile. You lead him to the door and open it, holding it so that he might duck inside and not fumble the precious pumpkin.

“We’ll need a few spices, celery and potatoes. Help me dig some up.”

* * *

Harpy claws, as it turns out, are great at digging up dirt, though you think he might have put them to better use hunting. Sun is cheerful and he easily takes to work. It’s not glorious, digging up potatoes, but he does it all with a smile on his wide face. 

You love his chatter. He sounds like birds trilling and cheeping, talking of the weather and the storm and how he was alone before he ventured into these strange but wonderful woods. He doesn’t tell you what he’s seeking, but he doesn’t seem to know either. A wanderer. A lost soul.

Like you.

People like you often end up here, in this forest. A woodland of spooky, lingering things, full of yellowing trees. Everyone is seeking something. A heart hungers beside the hazels. A person gets lost here, but sometimes, a person gets found.

Taking a much-needed breather from work, you lead Sun to the hazel trees. The leaves are soft and pale as butter and halfway melted, dripping to the ground. You show him the hazelnuts, perfectly round, dark treasures. In fascination, he gazes at the hard, black shells that you easily crack, shuck, and reveal the smooth nut hidden within. 

For a while, you two snack on hazelnuts. Sun’s tongue is dark red and licks at his teeth, chewing away. You love the soft crunch, and how nutty the flavor is. In summer, you take what you have left from winter storage to mix with cocoa and sugar then crush into a paste. A treat that is so lovely you tell Sun that you wish he could be here to have a bite when you make it.

His feathers perk at the mention. He looks as if he wants to say something, something you earnestly wait to hear, but he only agrees. It does sound lovely. 

You return to work. Sun is a bit quieter, back to his anxious hand curling and feather-ruffling, almost pulling a few from around his wrists, but you don’t ask. He would have told you if he wanted to. Why confine a stranger when he’ll be gone after the storm blows through?

You taste something bitter in the back of your mouth.

He helps you haul in the potatoes, celery, and carrots. Your cottage is small, but it fits him and you just right. You begin bowling the pot, adding in bits of beef you fetched from the wooden barrel where it sat in a brine of water and salt to preserve the meat until you were ready to cook. Then you begin chopping the vegetables. Sun fetches you an onion you had forgotten, and when he returns, his feathers blown against his body due to the picking up wind, he begins asking you questions. So. Many. Questions.

You can hardly pause between them. He’s so intrigued by your every boring answer. There’s very little for you to talk about except for the years you spent here and how long you’ve been alone (you don’t tell him the last part, though he does ask about family, and you simply comment that you have none with a sharp chop of your knife across a deep orange carrot.) He smoothly moves on, tending to the boiling pot and feeding the fire when it needs more logs. 

You can’t help but stare. A harpy tending to your stew. You think this must be a dream, a wonderful, heart-breaking dream. 

Tossing the ingredients into the heated meat and broth, you and Sun wait, listening to the howl of the wind and fearfully eyeing the flames as the pressure in the air snatches at the flames by reaching down the chimney. You’ll let the fire go out when the evening ends instead of fighting with it all night, but it will get cold. You ask Sun if he’ll be alright. 

He taps his chest with a wicked sharp finger and promises that his plumage is more than enough to fight off the chill. 

You stir the stew and spoon it into simple wooden bowls. You hand one to Sun. His large, clawed hand easily grasps it. He’s so sweet, so grateful. You sit down beside him at your small kitchen table—there was never a need for a full dining room set, and now you worry it’s too humble. You never expected company.

The stew, however, is heavenly. You’re relieved and immediately warmed by the savory broth and melt-in-your-mouth bites of beef and potatoes. Sun tears into the stew and you give him a second, then a third helping. You almost laugh at how sheepish he appears until he eats once more. 

He helps you clean up… You didn’t know what you expected, but certainly not his methodical ability to sweep the floor and scrub the pot.

“Thank you, Sun,” you say softly, handing him the last dish to set high on the shelf. “You’ve been a great help today.”

“It’s the least I could do to repay your generosity.” He faces you after setting the bowl away without any stretching or tip-toeing, unlike you. “You’re so kind and there’s so much for you to do by yourself. I’m amazed you can handle all this work. It would put a whole team of fieldhands to shame.”

“Oh, stop it,” you wave him away, ducking your head to hide your bashfulness. “I put you to work. I do hope you’ll sleep well tonight, despite the storm.”

As if summoned by your mere mention, a clap of thunder reverberates through the air. Your heart quakes in the strength of the ferocious growl. Sun whips his head towards the front door as if expecting the storm to rudely barge in without your invitation. 

“It’s a very good thing you stopped here,” you say, breathless. 

Sun slowly looks back, his hackles raised, and his cornflower blue eyes fall down. You follow his line of sight to your hand touching his feathered wrist, fingers anxiously curled.

“Oh.” You drop your hand away. “My apologies. Let me get you a comfortable place to rest. I’m afraid I only have one bed.”

“No need to apologize,” Sun says quickly, “Were you concerned for me, friend? That’s alright. Friends can be concerned for each other and there’s no shame in that. I truly don’t mind.”

You nod but don’t meet his gaze.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Friend?”

You stop, looking back at him. You wonder if he intends to leave, but that can’t be right. The storm is descending with a vengeance. 

“I need only sit by the hearth. I don’t need beds or other human comforts, though I appreciate your offer.”

“Oh.” You look around, the smell of stew having long since drifted away as the fire slowly begins to die. A thick darkness descends. You regard the harpy with a worry for the morning. Sunshine will come, yes, and the skies will be clearer, but he will leave.

You find yourself dreading tomorrow.

“Very well.” You hold his gaze for one brave moment. The cornflower blue holds you. “Goodnight, Sun.’

“Goodnight, friend.”

You close the door to your bedroom. In quiet reflection, you dress into your night clothes and slip under the quilts on your bed. You are so caught up on Sun’s ruffled feathers, his cheerful demeanor, and how anxious he holds his claws. 

He calls you a friend. You’ve only just met. You shouldn’t be so attached to a fellow so quickly, yet, you find yourself wondering how you might combat the silence in the afternoon after the thunder ceased its grumbling and the harpy has continued on his way.

You hardly sleep a wink before the storm splatters rain upon the roof and sends winds to rattle the shutters. A quaking bolt of lightning strikes, the thunderous cry shaking the very cottage and you bolt upright. You cry out, disturbed from dozing, dark dreams. 

The very world is being torn apart by a dark tempest.

“Friend!” The shout is muffled through the door, but you hop out of bed, bewildered and frantic, and throw it open to find the harpy.

He stoops low, his height eclipsed by the stout door frame. You stare up into his concerned eyes, long hands almost reaching for you but hesitating.

“I heard you shout. Are you alright?”

You lay a hand over your chest and breathe out. The wild blood pumping in your veins has yet to calm, but the sight of Sun’s cheerful face plumage, swirling about his expression like rays of the sun, and his big blue eyes, looking over you for injury or harm, touches your heart.

“Yes, I’m alright. The lightning—the thunder scared me!”

“It’s alright. It startled me, too,” he gives, though grinning with the energy of a thousand afternoons.

Sun peers through the small window in your bedroom. The lightning flashes again, not so close, but the thunder roars upon the little cottage as if a beast had snatched your home into its mouth.

You shudder to think of lying down now.

You hesitate, contrite, then ask quietly, “Sun?”

He visibly perks up and almost hits his head on the top of the doorway. His golden feathers brush against the ceiling of the cottage. 

“Yes?”

“Can I sit with you for a while? If I’m not keeping you awake, that is…”

His expression blooms as if a flower under the sun. He grins, the sight so lovely and tender before he takes your hand in his down-soft palm.

“Of course! There are still hot coals in the hearth, and I do hope I can help you stay warm, just a little.”

You lower your shoulders. A calming pulse moves through your chest as Sun, your friend, guides you into the room with the dying embers that beat a last, desperate red in the sooty black.

“Are you cold?” you ask, concerned. 

“No,” his eyes upturn, “If it’s alright, I would like to keep you warm.”

He opens his arms, the plumage of his wings falling like a cloak of ruffled sunshine and scarlet. His chest is fuzzy with soft down, and his billowy pants cross to make a comfortable seat on the floor before the cooling heart.

You want nothing more than to enter his embrace. Worry of the morning strains against your weary thoughts, holding you away.

“Are you sure?”

You only met him today. Why do you feel so much for this blossoming friendship, newly made under the threat of a storm and in the dirt of hard work?

He inclines his head gently, his feathers softly sashaying with reassurance. “Yes. I would be delighted to help my friend.”

His warm confidence chips away at the last of your reservations. Breathing in, you ease yourself into his embrace. Settling into his warm body—you didn’t realize how wonderfully comforting his form is, wrapped around yours, like a drop of sunshine. It immediately chases away the autumn cold nipping at your edges. Once you set your back against his chest, feeling a bit conscious of his presence and how you hold yourself, Sun wraps his arms around your shoulders. His beautiful wings cover you up in the burning colors of sunsets. Outside, the thunder and rain harmonize. 

“Is this alright?” he asks.

You nod and hook one hand over his fluffy wrist. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Yes,” you murmur.

It’s nice to have a friend.

You sit a while, gazing at the fire. Sun hums a low, throaty sound that reminds you of birds calling to each other, and you drift quietly. Your head begins to fall. In smooth, careful motions, Sun shifts your legs so they drape sideways off his lap and guide your cheek so it might rest on the soft pillow of his shoulder. His arms fall upon you again. You are blissfully warm, sleep whispering in your ears.

“Friend?” he says. His fingers curl against your arm. An anxious clench.

“Hmmm?” Your eyelids flutter.

“I was thinking—in the morning, you’ll have so many branches to pick up off your garden and you’ll need to check your chickens and see if any of your precious vegetables have been harmed, and you have so much work to do! I could stay a bit longer tomorrow, just to lend a hand, as a final thank you.”

“Sun?”

Your eyes open in the blue dark of the autumn night. Your heart melts quietly in your chest, and you think you might be brave. You dare to want to be bold enough to let him stay with you, beside you.

The harpy titters nervously. “Well, only if that wouldn’t be an inconvenience for you, of course. I don’t want to impose or linger where I’m not wanted—”

“Sun?”

“Oh! Yes?”

You sigh softly and close your eyes.

“Would you like to stay?” You hesitate quietly. Your heart thumps with all the desire of your being. “My friend?”

The beat of silence is devastating. The echo of nothingness deafens your ears and you almost lift your head to see if you cross a boundary or assume too much, but Sun quietly trills.

“If you’ll have me.”

You smile.

“Yes, I will.”

“Then you know my answer, dearest friend.”

You soften in relief, and in Sun’s gentle melody humming in his chest and soothing your very soul, you drift away. In the morning, there will be Sun. For every day after, it will be you two in the cottage.

You and your dearest friend.

#DCAH2023 #harpy!sun #sun & reader #skizabaa #i hope you like it!!! #naff writing #happy halloween

[softieekayy]

Sweet treat

Vincent Renzi x reader

Word count: 1.8k

A/n: the dialogue is italicized because my French isn’t good enough (yet) to right proper dialogue.

Moments like these were precious to Vincent. These quiet serene moments where the only sound was the chirping of birds and the soft, mellow music in the background that accompanied it. He liked to light a cigarette, lean into his chair as he sat on his small balcony, looking out to the sky and the street below him.

However what captured his attention more was the cute little baker from across from him.

Vincent noticed that she often started her day early, rushing into the store as if her pants were on fire, hair unkempt and a cigarette dangling from her lips as the long winter coat protected her from the harsh wind. Vincent often donned a smile seeing her. He saw himself in her. The way the hair was messy and the cigarette, she was just another version of him. One that he so desperately wanted to know.

He watched her now, eyes squinting slightly as the silver haired man waited for his mystery woman to arrive. She was late today but Vincent swore up and down that he wasn’t stalking her. No, he’d never do that. He’d just familiarized himself with her routine. It wasn’t much different from his own. Up at such ungodly hours doing lord knows what.

This time though, she felt him watching. The clearly disheveled woman could feel eyes on her a couple months ago yet she chose to ignore it. Until she caught a glimpse of possibly the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. The young woman let a small smile graced her lips as he looked up at him, eyes squinting from the sun that decided to peek out today. He wasn’t looking at her then, no. He was looking ahead, not even in her direction. Deciding that she was running late already, the woman headed into the shop, quite unaware of Vincent’s watchful eyes.

Days went by yet neither of them made any moves. (Y/n) watched him occasionally, admiring the way his silver hair fell over his forehead. He looked like a cat. A very beautiful cat. She wanted to know the man yet she couldn’t exactly match up to him and ask questions. Her nose crinkled at the thought of being so invasive. Vincent, ever the recluse, watched her from his balcony, a cigarette in his mouth. He wanted to introduce himself to her and get to know her, possibly at dinner but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Watching him again?” A voice, Helene’s voice, interrupted the young woman from her thoughts. She turned her head slightly to look at the older woman standing in front of her, a teasing smile on her face and arms crossed.

(Y/n) scoffed. “No, I’m just… admiring the weather.” Her voice held uncertainty. Helene laughed, the young woman couldn’t lie to save a life.

“Mhm, because the weather is stunning today.” It wasn’t. The weather was horrible, not a peak of sunshine. It was just strong wind and clouds looking like they’re about to bless the ground with snow.

“Yeah. I can’t wait for the inevitable snow storm we’ll have.” The younger woman replied sarcastically, throwing her hair over her shoulder. She’d done it nicely today, two braids on both sides.

Helene looked up at the man, his name still unknown to both of them.

“He is quite beautiful.” She sighed, taking in Vincent’s form and earning herself a jab in the rib from her coworker.

“Come. Stop being distracted, we have work to do.” (Y/n) tells her, pulling the older woman in by her arm, leaving Vincent unbeknownst to their conversation.

The older man retreated into his apartment, it wasn’t a very small one. It was nice, well, nice enough for him. Two bedrooms, one used as an office while the other one looked like it had barely been slept in. He rubbed his eyes, trying to drive away the tiredness that seeped through his bones and into his head. Vincent looked over to the pile of files he had to sort through, sighing, he went over to brew himself a nice, warm cup of coffee.

“Fuck.” Vincent muttered, seeing the sputtering of the old machine. He sighed, rubbing his forehead in agitation. He knew he should’ve replaced the damn machine months ago but he didn’t. And now he’s seeing the fruit of his labour. Maybe today was his lucky day. Maybe he’d get to talk to the cute owner of the coffee shop. The older man exhaled deeply, pulling on a black sweater, one of his nicer ones along with a black trench coat.

The weather didn’t seem to be letting up soon and he wasn’t fond of freezing.

Vincent made his way down the stairs of his apartment, walking across the street and towards the shop. He stopped for a minute, breathing deeply, he didn’t want to come across as a stalker and he sincerely hoped that the cute girl didn’t notice his obvious staring. He pulled the door open, walking into the shop, surprised to see it busy.

“Oh my god.” Helene whispered, her jaw dropping as she noticed the silver haired man walk in. She nudges the younger woman beside her.

“What?” (Y/n) asked her, not in the mood to listen to another one of Helene’s rants on the cute guy that just walked in. (Y/n) stood up from where she was crouching and turned to look in Helene’s line of direction, only for her jaw to drop as well. The man that she had been admiring for the past few weeks was even more beautiful up close. His hair fell so perfectly over his forehead and the sweater he wore just did something for him. Not that he wasn’t perfect already.

Vincent looked at her, eyes crinkling as a small smile donned his lips as he made his way up to the counter.

“Hello.” Vincent greeted her politely, hands stuffed into his coat pockets. God she was even more beautiful up close. Big doe eyes looking up at him from behind the counter making him forget why he was here in the first place.

“Oh hello! Welcome to Café of Curiosity! How can I help you today?” The young woman chirped happily, looking at Vincent. Well, she wasn’t really looking, she was admiring him. Vincent lost his train of thoughts for a small second. He wanted to hear her voice for the rest of his life.

“Café of Curiosity?” He asked.

“Mhm. It’s because there’s many coffee flavors that intrigue curiosity that we offer!” Helene chirps in and both of them turn to look at her. (Y/n) shooting her a sharp glare while the older man just looks at her and nods before turning his attention to the woman before him.

“Right then. I’ll just get a plain black coffee and a croissant, please.” Vincent tells the young woman in front of him, nodding at his choices.

“Going for the basics?” She asks, not looking up at him from the screen. Vincent hums in answer.

“Right… May I grab a name for the order?” She asks him kindly, offering him a sugary sweet smile.

“Oh I’m sorry! It’s Vincent.” (Y/n) laughed at his expression, a deer in headlights. Vincent felt warmth rush up to his neck and into his cheeks, no doubt looking like a beetroot. He’s sure he’s embarrassed himself and ruined all his chances while the woman opposite him thought that he was endearing and charming, in an awkward way. She nodded and gestured for him to wait by the other side of the counter.

“He’s cute, no?” Helene nudged the younger girl who only smiled. Helene knew though, she always knew. She looked up at the man, Vincent, who was looking at her co-worker and smiled.

“Well, I’m not handing him his order.” Helene exclaimed, moving to greet the person at the counter.

“What why?!” (Y/n) asked, eyebrows furrowed together and a small pout on her lips.

“Because, my dear, I doubt I’m the one he’s here to see.” Helene winked, pushing the younger girl forward gently. Vincent smiled awkwardly, fiddling with his phone, opening the photos app and settings, trying to look like he was doing something other than staring.

“Vincent!” She called out, capturing his attention. The said man looked up at her, smiling. He seemed to be doing a lot of that near her. He went up to the counter to grab his drink and croissant, hands briefly touching.

“Oh, thank you!” He responded, grabbing his coffee off the counter. The younger woman nodded her head in response. Having nothing else to say, he awkwardly turned around and left, cursing himself for not saying more. Inside the café, (Y/n) was doing the same, shaking her head in disapproval at her stupidity for not saying anything.

“You know, he’s still outside.” Helene pointed out, seeing the mop of silver waiting for the light to turn green. (Y/n) looked at her before smirking, she grabbed a tiramisu, tossing it in a box before running out.

“Vincent!” The young woman yelled out, waving her hand for him to pause, and he did. Vincent halted in his tracks, waiting for the woman to catch up.

“You forgot this.” She panted out, one hand holding the box out to him while the other was on her knee, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh… I didn’t order this.” He told her, trying to turn it down, thinking that she had mistaken him for someone else.

“Think of it as a treat! From me to you.” She told him, shoving the box in his hands and bolting before he had a chance to say anything else. The older man huffed out a small laugh at their interaction and made his way home, not thinking much of it. On his short walk home, he couldn’t get the sound of her voice out of his head.

Vincent Renzi was utterly enamoured by this siren of a woman.

He set the box down, opening it up only to see something that surprised him. Inside the box was the woman’s phone number and name.

“Call me… or not.” He whispered out loud, laughing a bit. He hadn’t even known her properly yet she was already weaseling her way into his heart. He saved the number in his phone, not quite ready to shoot her a text yet.

This had to be the best day possible for him. All because he forgot to replace his stupid coffee maker.

Deciding that the weather wasn’t going to change its mind anytime soon, Vincent decided to drink and work outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Only to see that she was waiting for him, in the window of her café, waving at him shyly before signaling her hand into a phone. Vincent nodded, truly intending to know the woman more, hopefully over a nice dinner and a glass of wine. She smiled before turning on her heels and rushing back to the café.

Oh dear, he hadn’t even known her yet he was in so deep.

Tagging: @caramel-hufflepuff @weird-civilian @hypocritic-trash-baby @ynguklvr @jake-g-lockley

#vincent renzi x reader #Vincent Renzi x reader fluff #Vincent Renzi fic #Vincent Renzi x you #Vincent Renzi #swann Arlaud #Swann Arlaud x reader fluff #Swann Arlaud x you #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #slice of life #meet cute

[lovekendri]

dazzling skylines | peeta mellark

peeta mellark x fem!reader

summary: happily ever after the rebellion, you and peeta have a picnic on a hill outside victor's village at sunset, full of love, kisses, homemade bread, and strawberries.

cw: cavity inducing fluff, peeta being an absolute hunk, implied mention of sexual activities

wc: 1k

type: ❀

A small basket of picked ripe strawberries and raspberries, two loaves of still-warm fresh bread, and a glass bottle of apple juice.

All of your favorites, packed into one basket.

Peeta was already far ahead of you, laying out the rough, aged quilt from his grandmother on the ground, the rustling of the slightly dried grass fought back at it, snagging on loose threats and small imperfections.

The sun was burning bright, a light yellow surrounded by shades of dandelion swirls. The sky above was a deep orange, getting darker the higher it rose, accents of a banana yellow dancing between purple and gray clouds sprinkled in stunning patches. Dark outlines of far away trees spread throughout the almost empty field, the occasional rabbit pouncing between longer patches of grass. It was a beautiful late summer evening, the heat just right with the light blow of a sweet breeze.

Peeta wore his white tee proudly as you watched him finally lay the blanket flat, admiring him from afar.

He was a work of art himself with his perfectly ironed shirts and brown khakis, toned muscles, and blonde hair glimmering in the orange light.

He turned to you as you approached the quilt on the ground, picnic basket in hand. His face grew soft, the handsome, genuine smile you had barely seen since he was hijacked grew on his lips.

"You look...beautiful," he murmured, taking in the soft pink sundress dotted with white daisies that you wore for the first time since you bought it.

He reached for your hand, taking it into his. You sat the basket down in front of you as he guided you to take a seat, following along with you.

You once again took the moment to admire the sky and him, and how lucky you were to finally have peace in the place you call home.

Peeta began to unravel the bread and berries and place them on the napkins you brought with, sneaking two raspberries into his mouth when he thought you weren't looking.

"Save some for me!" you laughed, swatting playfully at his hand as he grinned cheekily, a drop of raspberry juice dribbling onto his lip.

"It was only two!" he says, taking a raspberry and handing it to you.

You popped it into your mouth happily, enjoying the explosion of sweetness and slight bitterness it carried.

He took a piece of bread off the loaf, not caring to cut it.

"Gosh, I wonder who made this bread, it's so amazing! So fluffy and still warm!" He gloated, exaggerating the enjoyment on his face.

"Oh, please," you gave him an even more exaggerated look of annoyance, because you both knew very well that he made the bread, and it was damn good no matter what.

He gave you a knowing smirk, giving you a light peck on the cheek.

"You still have bread in your mouth! Don't get chewed up bread on my cheek!" You shrieked, yet another tease for him.

"You've had a lot worse on your face," he deadpanned, struggling to hide his smirk.

"Not the time," you giggled, a rosy tint rising on your cheeks.

You watched as the clouds moved ever so slightly in the sky with the light breeze, sometimes watching the color shift from dusky purple to gray, or gray to purple.

Peeta took note of your interest in the sky, taking the time to look up and watch the birds flitting by in small groups.

"Beautiful skyline, is it not?" he broke the silence, taking a plump strawberry into his mouth and ripping off the stem.

"It's not a skyline, Peeta. It's just a sky," you replied, a hint of teasing in your tone, knowing he would bite back playfully with another joke.

"Listen, same thing. There's a skyline somewhere out there, just very minimal where we are."

"Yeah right, maybe in the Capitol," you snorted, tearing off a piece of loaf and taking a bite, savoring the softness of it.

"You make it really hard to be nice sometimes," he joked, turning his head to look at you.

You admired his beautiful blue eyes when he looked at you. The way they had so much love and desire behind them, the questions they raised in the depth. You admired his blonde hair, the way it fell perfectly around his face. Most of all, you admired him.

Everything about Peeta was perfect in your eyes, his slightly lopsided smile, the way his cheeks reddened when you would say you loved him. His stocky build, his broad shoulders that he threw you over multiple times. His arms, his nose, his lips, his jaw, his everything.

"I appreciate that," you bit back playfully, the smile on your face was bigger than ever.

You looked down to the fruit basket, only one strawberry and four raspberries were left.

Peeta ate the rest.

"You can't even save two strawberries for me?" you complained, taking the last strawberry into your mouth and ripping off the stem the same way you learned from Peeta.

"You were too busy indulging in my lovely bread," he said.

You two sat in silence for a while, watching the sky and listening to the chirping of birds.

It was nice to sit with him in silence sometimes, appreciating the time you've spent together and the trials you went through with him. Through the tough and the breaking points, you two came out alive.

You had finished your bread, and scooted over on the quilt to sit closer to him.

Without saying a word, his arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you to his side, and you allowed your head to drop to his shoulder, snuggling close to his body.

You sat like this for a while, listening to the world around you move while you sat in eternal happiness, where nothing could hurt you in Peeta's arms.

You were home, both physically, and mentally.

Peeta was your home, your rock, your everything. Life wouldn't go on without him.

You felt his head turn down to yours, resting his chin on top of your head. He kissed the top of your head lightly, his arm tightening around you.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," you replied, grabbing hold of him to watch the sky go by.

main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof read: ✓

#peeta x reader #peeta mellark #peeta #peeta's games #peeta fluff #fluff #thg #the hunger games #peeta mellark the hunger games #peeta mellark thg #thg fic #the hunger games fic #fem!reader #peeta mellark imagine #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fic #lovekendri

[roguelov]

Mine, Ours

Summary: A mortal, an aspiring artist, captured the heart of a muse, a Greek goddess, and an Endless. Soon these deities became entangled in your life. Their love surrounded you. And you always assumed they were unaware of the other, oh how wrong could you be. Now they wished to show you how much you mean to them.

Word Count: ~7k

Reader: Afab/fem

Warnings: Smut (threesome, oral (fem!receiving and fem!giving and faceridding), unprotected sex, fingering, voyeurism, minor dirty talk, minor praise kink), fluff sprinkled throughout

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

To create.

To dream.

To inspire.

You called them, and they answered.

You met her first, under the warmth of the guiding sun, by the park near your apartment.

Children laughed. People chattered. Fresh goods, from a bakery across the street, wafted on the gentle breeze. The late summer days still warmed your soul, while the creeping chill in the air nipped at your skin warning of colder days to come.

And here, you sat tucked in your corner, under a changing tree, watching the bustling life - recording it.

A worn sketchbook rested in your lap with a short, dulled pencil behind your ear. Your fingers smudged in graphite. Shavings littered over you and your blanket. New doodles filled the pages: drawings of the elderly couple on the park bench feeding the birds across the way, drawings of the dog zooming around chasing after a chewed up frisbee, drawings of a bird nest directly above you, drawings of kids on a quilt playing with their variety of toys.

Drawing after drawing.

Sketch after sketch.

And you somehow will never have your fill.

Yet, nowadays, you craved something more. Ideas tingled in the back of your mind, desperate to escape. However, they were fleeting and hazy, ones you could never quite grasp to put pencil to paper.

But, they were there. Somewhere.

“What are you doing?”

You languidly glanced up. Immediately, your breath was stolen.

An absolutely stunning woman stood over you. She wore a white floral dress which cascaded down her body, hugging her curves. Her chestnut hair flowed down over her shoulders, framing her exceptionally warm and kind face. It glowed like a fire in the sunlight. Her eyes the color of roots of change, of the earth beneath your feet giving the courage to keep moving forward.

Her rosy lips curled into a dazzling smile.

Her mouth moved.

You blinked, snapping out of your racing thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?”

Her smile widened. “What are you doing? Or I suppose, what are you drawing?”

Your thoughts slipped away. She pointed down at your closed sketchbook in your lap. You perked up. “Oh, oh! Yes, right, I’m sorry,” you cleared your throat trying to ease your rising nerves, “I was just sketching some of the people in the park.”

“How lovely.”

“Yes, well, people are more interesting than a basket of fruit.”

She chuckled.

You smiled. It was such a sweet melody.

“If you don’t mind me asking, and I hope it’s not rude, but may I see them?”

Hesitancy flickered.

But, you nodded.

You started to lift your sketchbook for this wonderful stranger to take when you realized she floated down, sitting next to you on your blanket. Her shoulder bumbled against yours, such a small act sent sparks over your skin. Her eyes focused on your sketchbook in your lip.

You stared, transfixed and in awe. Who was she?

Her eyes trailed up, connecting with yours. She was so close. Her beauty was the type found in centuries old oil paintings, utterly ethereal and needed to be captured. She smiled softly, her eyes crinkled. “May I see them?”

Your eyes widened. “Yes! Sorry.”

You flipped open your sketchbook to your most recent additions. She leaned forward. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Her fingers skimmed over the page, feeling the grooves, the scratched and erased lines.

“These are beautiful,” she commented.

“Oh, thanks,” you blushed, “they’re just random sketches, there’s places where I could improve and -“

“Do not belittle your talent.”

Your mouth closed.

She peered up at you through her dark lashes. “You have a gift, one you are developing. It is perfect now and will be perfect later.”

You tilted your head. A smile tugged on your lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She raised her chin, smiling. A secretive one, full of knowledge you weren’t privy too. Yet. “And I think you will do great things.”

“Thank you.” You glanced away feeling hot under her intense gaze. Questions stirred. Where did she come from? Why did she come to you? But, you supposed you could start with who, who was she? “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Calliope.”

Calliope.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

She dropped her head, smiling to herself. “Thank you, and you?”

“(Y/N).”

Her eyes locked with yours again. “It is lovely to meet you, (Y/N).” A warmth spread over you at the sound of your own name rolling off her tongue. It was if you were hearing for the first time. As if it was poetry and not a word you carried with you all your life. “I hope I am not too forward, but could we meet here again?” She asked.

Your heart skipped. “I would love that.”

“Tomorrow? Same time?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled.

You met him next, under the veil of night, when fears and nightmares overshadowed your dreams.

Your eyes snapped open.

Blood pumped feverishly through your veins. The sporadic uneven pounding drowned the silence. You leapt up, clutching the front of your shirt. Your heart thudded dangerously under your fingertips.

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “It’s was just a nightmare, just a dumb nightmare.”

Opening your eyes, darkness swallowed you.

Your heart rate spiked.

Every shadow crawled with monsters, every object morphed into horrendous, veil faces screaming out in terror.

Fuck.

Throwing back the sheets, you stumbled out of your room. The moonlight, and faded streetlights, offered very little. Even in your bare living room, things moved out of the corner of your eyes. You tugged on the collar of your shirt. Your clothes constricted, suffocating you. The walls loomed over and began to close in.

Run.

Fueled by the simple thought, you rushed over to the front door. You shoved on shoes and jacket with the collar flicked up, jammed your keys into your pockets, then sprinted out of your claustrophobic apartment. Your footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, your untie shoelaces clacked against the ground.

Each sound sent a jolt through your scattered mind.

Ripping open the apartment complex door, the bitter air wiggled underneath your coat. You shrugged it closer. Your feet carried you, sticking to the streetlights. Your eyesight locked to the sidewalk.

The shadows still called out to you.

Unknowingly, your feet took you to a place you knew well. A place you knew you could navigate with your eyes closed: the park.

Crossing the empty street, you walked through the park and picked a vacant bench among the many. You sighed, flopping down. You craned your head back, letting the world turn upside down. You inhaled deeply. The crisp air was a shock to your system. A reboot. Your mind and body shifted away from its fears and focused on the ice filling its lungs. You exhaled loudly. The air fogged up.

It will be fall soon.

“What brings you out here?”

You jumped, sitting straight up. Your head snapped up to see a man in a dark coat standing a few feet back. Meeting a stranger, or any, at this hour should have frightened you. And although his initial presence did, once your eyes locked with his you felt oddly at ease.

“Apologies,” he dropped his head slightly, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, no,” you adamantly shook your head, “it wasn’t your fault, I was just lost in my thoughts and I didn’t hear you approach.”

His lips twitched.

You cleared your throat, “But, I, uh, couldn’t sleep.”

You skirted around the truth.

He hummed.

“And you? What are you doing out here?”

“Someone called.”

Your eyebrows knitted together at his vague wording. “Like, a friend of yours? Are they okay?”

He nodded, “Yes, and it is all taken care of.”

“Wow, must be an important person if you crawled out of bed this late.”

“You could say that.”

You smiled softly. “That’s good. Your friend is very lucky to have you.” You pointed to yourself, “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“(Y/N),” he repeated, trying your name. It was like a gentle song, a steady beat, to lull you to a peaceful slumber. “I’m Morpheus.”

“Morpheus.” You smiled at him, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“And to you.”

Your heart skipped. Under his unwavering gaze, a fuzzy warmth spread over your chest. You looked away, dropping your head. Somehow riddled utterly bashful from a stranger.

“It was a nightmare,” he said. “That is why you’re out here.”

You tensed. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. One with the utmost conviction, as if he knew all along. You chuckled nervously, “Was it really that obvious?”

He shook his head. “An inkling.”

You sighed, “Bit childish, isn’t it? To run away from an idiotic nightmare.”

“No.”

You cocked your head at his quick response. “No?”

“Nightmares make you face your deepest fears, and sometimes you’re simply not ready for them. But In time you will conquer them.”

You blinked, stunned, but then you slowly smiled at him. “How wise.”

A silence fell over you, comfortable and peaceful. Like two old friends enjoying each other’s company.

Morphues shifted his attention up to the starry night.

So, you studied him.

He glowed in this haunting lighting. He was made for the night, molded by it. His hair was elegantly messy, like ruffled raven feathers sticking up at odd ends. His lips, a dusty pink, puckered slightly in thought. His eyes the color of the morning sky uplifting you to wonders above the clouds. And he carried himself like royalty, shoulders back elongating his perfect posture.

A dark prince - no, king. A king of shadows and wonders.

He was captivating, memorizing.

You shook yourself from your wondering thoughts. “I should probably go.”

His eyes fell to you.

You stood up, wrapping your jacket around yourself, and started to walk pass him. He watched your every movement. As you brushed by him, drawn in by his magnetizing presence, he followed your figure.

Your eyes flickered over barely meeting his. “It was nice meeting you, Morphues.”

“That nightmare shouldn’t bother you anymore.”

Your footsteps halted. You peered over your shoulder, confused. “What?”

He turned, facing you, giving you all of his full attention. “Your nightmare won’t bother you anymore.”

You laughed once, cocking your eyebrow. “Really? And how would you know?”

A smile tugged on his lips. “A hunch.”

An idea took hold, one to promise another encounter with your new dark friend.

You smiled. “Well, if that’s true then let’s meet here again at the same time a few nights from now, and we will see who is right.”

He matched your smile and reached his eyes. “Okay.”

“Until then, Morphues.”

“Until then, (Y/N).”

Soon, these two figures became the center of your small world. You enjoyed each of their company greatly. They brought you comfort and newfound joy. They expressed interest in every aspect of your life. Even when you believed you rattled on about everything, your personal life and other mundane topics, to art from who inspired you, your favorite pieces, and your growing knowledge.

They never silenced you. They smiled and encouraged you.

And ever so slightly, you tumbled. You fell wholeheartedly in love with each of them. It almost felt wrong to love two people so deeply, yet your heart had decided. Both Morphues and Calliope. And you would give it over again and again.

You swore to yourself that you would tell them eventually. It didn’t sit right to keep the truth of either of them, even if you might lose one or both in the process. Yet, all of it rid on the notion that neither was aware of the other.

Oh, how wrong you were.

In the distance, you passed through the flow of people. Calliope, hiddened, watched intently as you began to shrink from view. A figure appeared beside her: Morphues. His eyes followed Calliope’s line of sight. He hummed, “So, I see you have laid claim on that mortal.”

Calliope barely turned her head. Her eyes were still on you. “Claim? I do no such thing.”

“Perhaps, but she certainly has caught your eyes,” he pressed. His eyes were also on you, completely transfixed. “A task very few have done.”

You vanished. A sorrowful ache sung in their empty chests.

Calliope faced Morpheus, looking up at him. “Is that a crime, Oneiros?”

“No, it is not.” He said, looking at his former love.

“Then why do you treat it as such?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Because she too has caught my eye.”

Calliope blinked. “And what does that mean?”

“I’m not quite sure yet.”

“If you think I will -“

“I think nothing. I am only sharing since it might interest you.”

Her lips thinned. Her eyes searched for an answer, one that was more clear, but Morphues would not give it. “I will not stop.”

“And neither will I.”

A promise lingered in the air. One that prompted something, something sinful, something sweet.

“Then good day to you, Morphues,” Calliope nodded.

“And to you, Calliope.”

Time blurred.

Time filled with a blossoming love.

You savored their individual time. And in turn, they inspired you. Their beauty was captivating. Your sketchbooks were quickly filled with their faces, and soon their faces haunted your dreams.

But, pencil and paper wasn’t enough.

You wanted to paint them, to give color and life to one of your sketches, to show how their eyes twinkled with love, to show how their lips curled into a heartwarming smile, to show how their hair framed their face down to the strands which could never be tamed, to show how -

To show how much they mean to you. To show them how you see them.

You decided you would ask Calliope first. She seemed she would be more open minded to the idea, and somewhat less intimidating than the king of night, Morphues.

“Calliope?”

The two of you were side by side, leaning against each other underneath the tree where you met. It felt like years ago, like she was always a part of your life.

“Yes, my love?” She answered.

Your heart skipped at the endearing name. No matter how many times it rolled off her tongue, it still gave you butterflies. Clearing your throat, you said, “I was wondering if you could model for me - and! And before you say anything please don’t feel obligated or anything, this is whatever you are comfortable with.”

She twisted, looking directly at you. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement. “Would it be presumptuous to ask if it’ll be a nude painting?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you spilled out. “You wear whatever you want, or we can drape sheets over you to keep you covered.”

She cupped your face. “I would be honored.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really?”

“To inspire you is my greatest gift to you, and it would fill my heart with joy to be the muse of your next painting.”

You beamed. You buried your face into your touch, trying to hide your growing excitement and dopey smile. She laughed and brought your face to hers. She picked your lips. Pulling back, she gently held your face for a moment. She thought you looked adorable with your giddy smile, a smile she always wished to see.

“Okay, uh, how about Friday night? I’ll have everything set up and we’ll do it for just a few hours, nothing too long.” You suggested.

“Perfect.”

An idea stirred.

Calliope smiled to herself.

Oh, yes, this could work, she thought. An unspoken promise may be fulfilled.

Days later, right after sunset, you stood in your living room. Chairs and tables were pushed up to the wall. A cream sheet hung precariously from the ceiling, draping across the floor. The couch sat on top with a hand full of sheets for Calliope to cover up or use however she wished. A few dim lamps scattered around pointed at the couch to get the best lighting. Your easel, with a prepped canvas, and a cart, filled with all necessary supplies, was positioned a few paces back.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t a high grade studio, but it was enough.

You adjusted your stool in front of the canvas. You tightened your stained smock. Your heart, however, buzzed. Glancing down, your hands trembled. Fuck. You clenched and unclenched your fists trying to calm the tremor.

Knock! Knock!

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You rushed over to the front door and flung it open. Almost off the hinges. Unbothered, or unaware, of your nerves, Calliope smiled at you. “Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hi,” you whispered.

“May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, right.” You moved aside letting her through. Her eyes scanned over your makeshift studio setup. “I hope this is okay.”

“It’s perfect.”

You smiled, calmed a little by her words. “Okay, good, uh, well, please do whatever you want to get comfortable. I’m going to finish my setup, okay?”

She nodded.

You spun around, walking back to your canvas. Behind it, you couldn’t see her move. But, you certainly heard her. Fabrics fluttered. Some fell to the ground with a thud. With each drop, your heart jumped. I can do this. You let out a low shaky breath and began arranging your paints in color order on your palette.

“I’m ready.“

You scrunched up your face. So quickly?

You peered out from behind your canvas.

Draped over the couch, she laid on her side facing you. Naked, bare. An arm propped up her head, while the other rested on her side extenuating her curves. Her legs bent a little to fit onto the couch. Her fingers played with the thin sheet covering her thighs and part of her lower half. Only her lower half. She left her top untouched and exposed.

You tried not to stare.

You visibly swallowed. “Will you, uh, be comfortable to stay in that position for a while?”

“I can manage.”

You nodded. “Okay, um, would you like some music? Or anything?”

“I think I’m good, my love.” Her lips curled into a smirk.

Why did that send a spike of fear through you?

“Okay,” you mumbled. “I just have to finish my paint setup and we can start.”

You squeezed out the last few paints. You capped the tubes and reached for a paintbrush -

“I see you have started without me.” A voice, one you recognized instantly, said from the darkness.

You whipped around, startled.

Calliope, however, was unaffected. “You are late.”

Out of the shadows, Morpheus appeared. Your eyes widened. “Morphues - wh - how -“

“Do not worry yourself.” He calmly stated as he walked forth. His eyes focused solely on you.

You should have been frightened. He appeared out of nowhere, instead confusion settled over you. Your eyebrows knitted together as Calliope’s words tossed around in your head again.

Late?

You looked over your shoulder. Calliope smiled softly at you, trying to ease any worries. “You called him here?” Another thought popped up. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Fingers wrapped around your chin, guiding your attention back to Morphues standing directly in front of you. “We do.”

“But, how and - and what -“

“You have questions, and we can answer as many as needed.”

Sheets rustled. Light footsteps crept closer. A hand lightly touched your back, drawing your attention. Looking over, Calliope smiled at you.

Your heart thrummed.

The air sparked with something sinful with both of them here. You desperately kept your gaze on Calliope’s sweet, warm eyes. She floated over and behind Morphues. Her hands wrapped around his waist. Morphues turned his head, acknowledging her. They touched their foreheads, taking a moment.

Then both of their eyes flickered over to you.

You instantly felt small. Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Do you know of the Greek Muses? Of any mythos?” Calliope began.

You stared blankly, then gave the tiniest nod. You had some understanding of Greek Mythology, but just broad strokes.

“I am one of the nine muses, my love. A Greek Goddess.”

What?

“And Morpheus was once my husband.”

You tensed.

“Careful, you might frighten her,” Morphues said with a slight tease.

“I am only speaking the truth, one she should know if we continue down this path.”

What -

“And - and you?” You asked, finding your voice, and gestured to Morphues.

He smiled, a small tug. “I am no god. I am an Endless. Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

Your hands dangled at your sides. “I’m sorry, a goddess? And - and an Endless?” They simply nodded. “What do you want with me? Why me?”

Calliope saw the fear rising in your eyes. She peeled away from Morphues and placed herself behind you. Her arms circled around you as she pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Her warmth immediately comforted you.

“You needn’t fear us, we don’t wish to cause you any harm,” she whispered into your shoulder.

“Then what?” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye.

“We want you,” Morphues answered swiftly

Your eyes snapped back to Morpheus. “Me?”

“An artist who dreams of inspiring others to create, or to inspire others to dream of a new world; you called out to us.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Yes, well, I, uh -“

“Do not be embarrassed.” Calliope whispered. “It is endearing and we soon both found ourselves falling in love with the artist who summoned us.”

“I - I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything.”

“Right now we only wish to inspire you,” Morphues said. “If you like.”

Your eyes flickered between the two of them. Two of the most beautiful people you’ve ever laid your eyes on. And to think you called them? To know they became infatuated with you in return? It was almost beyond your comprehension. Now, they were both here. They both expressed their desires and love.

So, why say no?

It’s just for a painting.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath.

Morpheus hummed. He stretched his hand out, and Calliope graciously accepted. He led her over, and out of view, to the homemade stage.

You let out a shaky breath.

Breathe. Focus.

Morphues and Calliope each had captured your heart. It was an unfiltered love, it was a rose-hued world, it was constant butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

But, with them both here it called something darker within you. That sinful spark from earlier still lingered in the air. It was an insatiable hunger, it was a red haze fogging your consciousness, it was a wildfire coursing through your veins.

You flopped down on your stool. Closing your eyes, you continued to inhale and exhale in even, steady breaths.

“Are you ready?” Calliope asked.

“Yeah,” you murmured, opening your eyes.

You glanced over your canvas to your two new models. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Both standing, Morphues, now bare, held Calliope in his arms. Calliope, her back pressed into his chest, leaned her head back resting it on Morpheus’s shoulder.

They certainly hid nothing from you.

Your face was hot.

“Will this do?” Morphues asked, teasingly.

“Fuck.” It tumbled out of your lips before you could stop it.

Morphues smirked. He bent his head down, pressing his lips into Calliope’s shoulder trying to hide his growing amusement. Calliope chuckled, smiling widely.

You ripped your gaze away as your ear ignited.

“So? Will this not do?” Morpheus repeated.

“It’s - it’s fine.” You muttered.

“Have you not painted nude models before?” Calliope mused. Her tone was more sweet, but it didn’t hide all of her taunts.

“I have,” you said firmly.

“Then there should be no problem,” she chirped.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, my love, we are ready when you are.”

You closed your eyes once more and exhaled slowly. Focus, just focus. You’ll be fine. Opening your eyes, you picked up a brush dipping it into a light brown.

Your eyes slid over.

They melded together, like pieces from a forgotten puzzle. Somehow alway meant to be. His arms - muscular and taunt with its harsh lines - circled around her waist and contrasted against her soft, delicate curves. Her hand splayed over his, desperate to have more skin to skin contact. He kissed her shoulder, his messy locks blocked out most of his face and barely brushed against her skin. Her head was turned, staring lovely at him. Her slim fingers caressed the side of his face, drawing him in.

A lovers’ embrace.

Your lips twitched upward.

You leaned back over and began to sketch out basic outlines: the line of action, the curves, the building blocks of anatomy, and a basic, sloppy shading to remind you of your light source. Soon, you forgot who you were painting and fell into the flow. You built up each layer of paint, slowly adding color, and carving out their bodies and background.

You knew it wouldn’t be finished tonight, but you enjoyed the process.

Until, it was broken by giggling.

Your eyes snapped over. Calliopes was laughing while Morphues lifted his head looking directly down at her, directly into her eyes. He smiled as she laughed.

You smiled, genuinely. Although they spoke of their former love, you could still see it. It still lingered. You returned back to your painting feeling lighter. However, you had forgotten who you had invited into your home, neglected their true intentions for this night.

“Shall we?” Morphues whispered into Calliope’s ear.

“Sweet Oneiros, I’ve been waiting for you.”

He chuckled.

You hunched forward, tongue poking out, when a soft hum broke the silence. Curious, you leaned over.

You inhaled sharply.

Morphues’s hands crawled up Calliope’s body. His firm hands cupped her perked breasts, and began to knead and play with them eliciting low sensual noises from the goddess. She sighed, closing her eyes. Morphues, however, looked directly at you. His eyes hooded, filled with desire as his lips curled into a devilish smirk.

You dove back in front of your painting. Your smock was now impossibly tight around your flushed skin.

“Morpheus.”

You flinched in your seat.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t -

Curiosity pulled. You cautiously peered behind your painting. Morphues kissed and nipped at Calliope's neck. Love bites began to cover her skin. His hands gripped - white knuckling - her hips, desperate to keep her in place, to keep her from moving. Her lips fall open, sighing dreamily. She wiggled her hips, rubbing against him. Morpheus groaned. Its deep vibrations echoed throughout the spacious room. He dropped his head onto her shoulder. Calliope glanced over to you. Her eyes half opened, filled with pure lust. You instantly looked away, somehow embarrassed as if you caught them.

“Morpheus, we may have frightened our friend here,” she smirked.

Morpheus looked up to see you hiding behind your canvas. “We may - oh.”

Calliope rubbed against him again making him moan.

You fidgeted. You crossed your legs trying to alleviate some of your growing needs.

“(Y/N),” Calliope cooed.

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Yes?”

“Look at us, my love.”

Fuck.

Obeying her command, you leaned over. “Oh dear god.”

Morpheus’s fingers slid down Calliope’s chest, down the valley between her breasts, and further and further. Goosebumps followed his delicate touch. Your eyes widened. He slipped two sinful fingers between her folds. Calliope moaned, falling into his touch. His fingers started slowly, stroking her walls. It was pratically pornographic: how his fingers pumped her, the wet sloppy noise, how Calliope mewled and how each sound went straight through you.

“She feels divine,” Morpheus purred.

“Fuck me,” you mumbled, clenching your thighs together.

Morpheus curled his fingers.

“(Y/N),” Calliope moaned, grinding down on his fingers.

Your paintbrush clattered to the ground. Your hands covered your hot face. Your ragged breathing barely drowned out their sounds.

Be professional, be professional - but how can I when they’re acting like this?

“Oh, darling,” Morpheus called out.

You peaked through your fingers. Morpheus slipped his fingers out of Calliope, she whined at the loss of friction. Staring directly at you, Morpheus stuck his fingers in his mouth tasting Calliope. His perfect lips wrapped around his fingers as his eyes fluttered closed, moaning deeply.

“Let me,” Calliope murmured.

She gently removed his fingers from his mouth and cupped his face bringing him down to her. Her tongue slipped between his lips tasting herself on Morpheus’s tongue. She hummed.

“Love,” he murmured against Calliope, “we mustn’t forget someone.”

Calliope pulled away, lips swollen. Their eyes darted over locking onto you.

Your hands fell down.

Calliope moved first. She glided across the room. Standing in front of you as you sat on your stool, she titled your head back. You peered up at her with glassy eyes and parted lips. In seconds, you relinquished all control.

The painting can wait.

Her thumb ran over your bottom lip. Electricity crackled over your needy body. She bent down, and finally kissed you.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

She guided you up onto your feet. Her hands skimmed up and down your sides, learning your curves. She tilted her head, moving her lips deepening the kiss. Your heart skipped. Her tongue begged for entrance. You happily obliged. A moan rumbled in the back of your throat as she explored your mouth. Every touch was a fire across your skin.

Hands, rough and stern, landed on your hips.

You broke away from Calliope. Craning your neck back, Morpheus loomed behind you. He smiled at you. Calliope did not let this deter her. Her lips skimmed over your neck, making you shiver. Morpheus gripped your chin to keep your eyes on him. He leaned in to kiss you. While Calliope was sweet and fire inducing - a dangerous nectar injected into your vines setting your skin ablaze; Morpheus was an icy chill leaving you gasping and clinging - an all consuming blizzard trapping you.

Calliope nipped you, and soothed the pain with her tongue.

You moaned into Morpheus’s mouth.

Their skillful hands wandered over your body. Bit by bit, one article of clothing after the other fell off your body. Their hands skimmed over your hot skin: over the valley of your breasts, curling around your neck, through your hair, and down your sides. They mapped your body. They touched everywhere, except for where you wanted them the most.

Frustration built. A roaring fire in the pit of your stomach.

You groaned and whined.

They chuckled.

You huffed. Taking each of their wrists, you led them to your bedroom. You were done wasting time, done with their teasing.

Letting go of them, you pushed Calliope towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the bed and she flopped backwards with excited giggles. You licked your lips, then slowly sank to your knees at the edge of the bed. You dreamt of this, dreamt of this moment ever since you first laid eyes on her. Your fingers trailed up and down your legs. Taking one of her legs, you hooked it over your shoulder.

Your eyes looked up at her, and kissed her inner thigh.

Calliope hummed, tilting her head back.

You bit her.

She gasped.

Morpheus smiled deviously. He fell into a lone chair in the corner of the room. The perfect position. He slowly stroked himself, watching intently as this unfolded.

Smirking, you started marking her thighs. Marking everywhere, and purposely avoiding where she needed you the most. Your eyes flickered up. Her eyes were closed as her chest heaved heavily in anticipation.

A goddess - a Greek goddess - was turning into a mess because of you. Because of your touch.

You wouldn’t - couldn’t - wait any longer.

You dived into her dripping folds.

Calliope moaned. Her hands immediately latched into your hair, desperate to find grounding in this high.

She tasted, oh so, sweet. Divine. Morpheus was right, she is divine. You ate her as if it was her last meal, worshipping every moment. You hummed. She bucked her hips. You did it again. She moaned, “(Y/N).”

You clenched your thighs together. You were wet and needy. But, you wanted to feel her pleasure more than anything right now. You moved, sucking on her clit. She instinctively yanked on your hair, crying out. You moaned as pain quickly turned into pleasure.

“Morpheus,” she whimpered.

“Yes, darling?” He hummed, absolutely amused.

“She is heavenly.”

Pride swelled within you.

“I have no doubt.”

Calliope buried her face into the bedsheets. “Love, (Y/N), I -“

You groaned.

You wanted nothing more than for her to come in your mouth. You became more feverishly knowing she was at her end. Your tongue swirled around, you hummed and moaned pushing her further and further towards the edge, and your fingers dug into her thighs no doubt bruising her.

She gasped. She yanked on your hair drawing you impossibly close, as she bucked and rid your face.

Her walls fluttered around your tongue.

You eagerly lapped up her juices. She wriggled and squirmed, crying out in pleasure and overstimulation. You pulled away, breathless. But, a hand raked through your hair and forcibly yanked your head back. Morpheus mouth latched onto yours tasting Calliope on your tongue. You whimpered, clinging to him.

When he broke apart, his lips glistened.

His lips stretched into a playful smirk

There you were on your knees with hearts in your eyes. Your swollen lips parted, and your breath erratic and fleeting. His hand slid down, cupping your face. His thumb traced down your cheekbone down to your lips. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. Without thinking, you wrapped your lips around his thumb and gently sucked on it.

“Love, come here.”

Popping out Morpheus’s thumb, you glanced over to Calliope who laid out on the bed. She pointed at you, then slowly curled her finger beckoning you forth. You didn’t hesitate. You crawled onto the bed and over top of her.

She drew you down to her. Her lips brushed over yours and murmured softly, “I wish to return the favor.”

Excitement coursed through you. You nodded shyly, biting your lip. You moved to lay down, when she grabbed your wrist. She shook her head. “On top, my love.”

You blinked. Oh!

You smiled sheepishly then moved up.

“Oh, sweet Morpheus,” Calliope cooed.

“I am here,” he chuckled. He knew exactly what to do without being told a word. He hopped onto the bed, and grabbed her hips. His cock poked at her inner thighs.

But, he patiently waited, waited for you.

You situated yourself over Calliope’s face. Your knees on either side of her face, digging into the pillow her head rested on. You laid your hands flat against the wall. You needed something to keep you upright. Your heart skipped as you peered down at her snug between your legs. She simply smirked up at you. Her fingers reached up grabbing your hips, then slowly dragged you down.

You threw your head back as her mouth delved in.

Morpheus smiled, at the sight of you on top of Calliope. He then teased Calliope’s entrance, barely rubbing the tip of his cock between her folds.

She hummed.

“Fuck,” you muttered, squeezing your eyes shut.

Morpheus chuckled then slipped in. Calliope’s grip tightened. Her nails buried into your skin. Her tongue swirled as she moaned into you. Your taste was sweet and tempting like a forbidden fruit. One that should never be consumed, and one two ethereal beings will happily break time and time again.

Morpheus steadily began to rock his hips. Tantalizingly slow and nearly losing himself. The feeling of how Calliope wrapped around him, how he watched his two loves cry out in pleasure, how you squirmed, and how you peered over your shoulder looking back at him with a sweat forming on your forehead.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressed into the cool wall. You opened your eyes, daring to look down. Calliope’s eyes were closed as she worked you. However, feeling your gaze, her eyes flickered open. Her dark eyes, practically black and devoid of anything but lust and pleasure. She moaned into you. The vibrations were dizzying. You whimpered as your first orgasm built in the pit of your stomach.

You unconsciously began to grind down on her. Desperate to reach your end.

Calliope’s walls fluttered.

Morpheus grunted. “Do that again, (Y/N).”

Morpheus lifted Calliope’s hips. He snapped his hips, setting a new fast pace. You grinded down on Calliope. “Calliope,” you moaned.

You rocked your hips. Pleasure built and built.

Calliope hummed, ready for anything.

“Calliope,” you whined, warning her.

She worked you, while Morpheus worked her. The sinful noises filled your ears. The way Morpheus pounded into her, with his soft sweet grunts, the way Calliope sloppily ate you out, the way your strained moans combined with it all.

“Come for her, (Y/N),” Morpheus groaned.

You moaned, throwing your head back as your orgasm crashed through you. Calliope desperately held you in place as she continued to work you through your high. Morpheus moaned, feeling Calliope’s walls clamp around him as they reached their own highs.

You squirmed, and cried out. It was too much, and somehow not enough.

Calliope finally released you.

You fell onto your back, breathless. You glanced over to Calliope. Your juices covered her lips. Her tongue ran over her lips. You squirmed at the sight. She smiled lazily and reached out, stroking your cheek. You hummed. However, someone wasn’t done with you.

Hands yanked on your hips.

You yelped.

You soon found yourself in Morpheus’s lap staring directly into his eyes. Your breath was stolen. He kissed you, gently and sweetly. You exhaled through your nose, and cupped his face. Your fingers curled into his hair. He hummed. Soon he lifted you up, guiding you, and slowly sunk you down on his cock. You moaned into his mouth. He filled you and stretched you in a way you’ve never felt before.

He pulled away peppering kisses down your neck.

You craned your head back, and began to move up and down. Slow and languid movements as you wanted to draw out this moment. Morpheus groaned, as his arms tightened around your waist, desperate to have you closer. And with every movement, Morpheus met you, bucking his hips up. Every movement left you feeling lightheaded in the best way.

Calliope asked, watching the two of you, watching her two loves, “How does he feel, my love?”

“Good,” you breathed out, unable to process any sentences, “Really good.”

She chuckled.

Morpheus nipped at your neck, making you gasp. “Fuck, Morpheus.”

His lips curled over your skin. He lifted his head and pressed his forehead on yours. “You are being so good for us,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered.

Biting your lip, gaining more and more confidence, you slammed down on him. Faster, more demanding. A vein popped in his neck. He clamped his mouth as a moan rumbled in his throat, and his eyes squeezed close.

An Endless, a cosmic being, was at your mercy.

You bounced up and down, loving how Morpheus’s face twisted in pleasure. “(Y/N),” he moaned.

Your heavy breathing and his filled the close space between you. He opened his eyes, peering up at you through his dark lashes. He bucked his hips, matching your pace. You whimpered, tugging on his hair. Your walls fluttered, warning him. Morpheus groaned. You rolled your hips, sending a new wave of pleasure. Morpheus chuckled, pulling you close. His hands trailed down your back, grabbing your hips. He guided you, helped lift you as you started to stutter in your pace. Your legs burned but you desperately wanted to continue. Your head fell to his shoulder. Your hands traced over his back muscles, feeling as they flexed under your light touch.

“Ah, look at me, darling.”

You lifted your head. Your brain hazy as pleasure built clouding your senses. His everlasting, all consuming, blue filled your vision.

He grounded you.

He bucked his hips, hitting the right spot.

You moaned, and you saw stars.

He smirked to himself repeating the action. Desperate for release, you grinded down. Your breath hitched. Your end was soon.

“Come for him, love.” Calliope hummed.

Your heart rate spiked.

At her simple words, your walls clamped down. Your lips fell open, as you fought to keep your eyes directly on Morpheus. He groaned, seeing you in absolute bliss and bucked his hips once last time, finding his own release. His forehead pressed to yours, kissing you feverishly one last time.

You hummed.

Breaking apart, you smiled at him. Breathless. And now utterly exhausted.

Calliope’s gentle hands guided you backwards into the softness of your bed. You fell back. Instantly, Calliope and Morpheus positioned themselves on either side of you.

“You were lovely,” Morpheus mumbled in your ear.

Calliope caressed your cheek, lulling you. “And so patient with us.”

You laughed once through your nose. “Thanks.”

Inhaling, you yawned. Your eyelids weighed down and thoughts of sleep tugged at the back of your mind.

“Rest,” Morpheus whispered.

You whined quietly. Not wishing for the night to be over.

Calliope laughed. “Rest, we will be here in the morning.”

Yawning once more, you reluctantly agreed.

You turned, snuggling into Morpheus’s side. Your hand splayed over his chest, feeling his calm heartbeat. Your chin propped on his shoulder as your steady breaths blew through your parted lips. Morpheus tilted his head resting it on yours. Calliope looped an arm under your waist, drawing herself close. Her lips pressed between your shoulder blades. She reached over you, and Morpheus intertwined his fingers with hers.

Warm. So warm.

#the sandman #the sandman smut #morpheus x reader #calliope x reader #morpheus x y/n #calliope x y/n #Morpheus x reader x calliope #morpheus x fem!reader #calliope x fem!reader #morpheus x reader smut #calliope x reader smut #the sandman imagine #smut #fem!reader #afab!reader

[theinnerunderrain]

Kiss [Yandere Genshin Headcanons]

Warnings: Yandere themes, intrusive thoughts, mentions of blood, slight sadism, infantilization, alcohol, drugging.

Childe

Sudden but passionate.

Childe would have somewhat chapped lips, but not so arid to the point that you could feel the grains of his lips grinding against yours. But dry enough to add a light fraction, just enough to make your stomach flutter his gesture, enough to make you feel something. He would pinch and rub at your flesh, laughing at the way you would squirm and twitch under his hands. He would knead and pinch your flesh while giggling at how you would writhe and spasm beneath his hands, obviously taking enjoyment to your pain.

His taunting would cause your skin to turn reddish, producing a red stain spanning from your cheeks to your shoulders. Have you ever thought what would happen if he suddenly slashed you? Would the blood that spills from your wound further adorn you and render you more beautiful? Or would it discolour you, giving you the appearance of a bird that was just struck by his arrow?

A warm feeling surges through his stomach at the thought, feeling the way his pants slightly tightened and using his last will to not fuck your face right there and then.

You can't really blame him for thinking such things, considering how stunning you would be in red.

But perhaps that's another thought he could indulge in for later? He doubts you would be happy if he were suddenly to restrain you, using your body to suit his pleasure.

"You're not looking too well, dear."

He laughs softly as he examines your breathless body resting just above the mattress, your cheeks and ears flushed from attempting to regain your breath. You reach out to hold one of the pillows against your face in an effort to cover up the evident redness that has spread across your cheeks, feeling somewhat embarrassed to become so rile up over a mere kiss.

Yet, Childe's fingers shoot out to seize your wrist, preventing you from covering the pillow with your face as he laughs at your shyness.

How cute.

"Don't get so shy on me now."

Leaning close to you, his lips were just inches away from yours as he murmured whilst allowing his warm breath to sweep over your face. His breath somewhat smells like mint, and perhaps even want soup which made sense considering the food he had made you earlier.

"Afer all, the night is still young."

Pantalone

Domineering yet sweet.

He would have plump, velvety lips that tasted faintly like cherries and expensive wine. You can certainly expect him to be employing the best lip treatment given that he is a man of grandeur, and I imagine you could smell him everytime your lips touched.

Without a doubt, his hands would be on your waist, pressing your body up against his, and perhaps even straddling him against his chair. His fingers would trail up and down the curve of your back, fiddling with the soft flesh and murmuring a soft "good girl."

A few sips of wine would certainly be consumed by him in between kisses, and he would make sure that the wine would trickle into your throat with every kiss. Pressing into his chest, you would giggle as the wine gradually starts to take effect, causing your face to turn crimson and your eyes to become slightly blurred.

"Maybe it's time we retire for the night."

He grins as he watches you bury your face in his chest before staring at him, obviously inebriated from the quantity of wine he had given you. You take a deep intake of his fragrance, relishing in how he smelt, as his fingers reach to halt at the top of your head and carefully stroking your hair. Your hair felt seamless under his fingers and had a faint vanilla and cream scent, which may have been one of his favourites despite their subpar producers.

"My, my. How adorable you are, even cuter than a kitten."

You whine again as he lifts your chin and enfolds you in another open-mouth kiss, drinking in your squeaks as if he was feverishly trying to swallow you whole. Before he retreated, he offered you a small piece of chocolate, which you carefully chewed on as the sweet melted against your tongue, oblivious to the quantity of aphrodisiacs integrated into it.

Your body instantly became feverish, and you began tugging at his garments in an attempt to find some type of relieve between your legs as sweat started to gather on the top of your forehead.

"Oh my, you are quite promiscuous. But do not fret, even if you are intoxicated and drunk out of your little head," before pausing to take your face between his hands and leaning in for another kiss, he whispered.

"Every second of this evening will be preserved in your memory, I promise."

Zhongli

Gentle and warm.

In contrast to the other characters, the way Zhongli kisses you is so loving and pure. Being a rather traditional man, Zhongli doesn't entirely indulge himself in giving you kisses on your lips too often, but that doesn't mean he does not like them but he much prefer conventional ways to show affections such as kisses on the forehead or wrists, even quality time is an asset to him. He is definitely drawn to you physically, but he won't entirely embrace it since he doesn't see physical attractiveness as being the most important aspect of who you are as a person.

Still, since he's a human now there are some urges he can't help himself with.

Both of his hands would be wrapped around your face, softly fiddling with your ears as he moulds his lips against yours, his lips tasting somewhat like osthamus tea, ironic considering his love for the tea could perhaps even rival his love for you.

"There, just lay back and be a good girl for me won't you?"

His laughter continued as he pushed you back into the beige sofa, making sure your head landed on the pillow rather than the arm. Your hair was strewn across your face, revealing the entirety of your face, plump cheeks and velvety lips. Zhongli's fingers delicately traced the contours of your face as he took in every nuance of your expression and each exhalation from your lips, absolutely adoring every detail of your body.

How beautiful.

He brings his hands down to your lips, presses his thumb against them, drags them apart, and softly slides his thumb into your heated mouth. As he inserts another finger, your tongue flickers over the pad of the thumb which thrusts in and out of your mouth and causes copious amounts of saliva to run down your chin, and drip onto the sofa.

"Z-zhongli.....More please."

Your hands came out to grab his wrist and tugged at the silky fabric of his shirt while you spoke softly through his fingers. Something inside of him was stirred by the way you breathed his name, causing an ecstatic sensation to rush through his body.

Perhaps it was similar to excitement?

The sensation was similar to what he might experience in a fierce struggle or possibly even when a predator is methodically encircling its prey, ready to take a bite.

"My dear, we can take it nice and slow," he whispered as his hands slowly reached to unbuttoned your shirt to reveal your chest was covered in a white bra lace with pretty flowers.

"But if you desire for me to be rough, I wouldn't mind whatsoever."

Capitano

Surprisingly tender yet assertive.

Despite being a swordsman, Capitano would show his beloved the utmost tenderness. His large hands would be soothing against your face, his leather gloves caressing your cheek delicately as he peers endlessly into your face, soaking in your beauty that could practically rival the goddess of beauty. He is the type to keep his eyes open throughout the kiss, monitoring for facial twitches and taking notice of tiny twinges in your brows.

With both of your legs curled around his waist, he would be the kind to prod you up against him or position you between his legs before delivering you a slow kiss whilst slowly pressing the base of his tongue against your tender skin. Although most would beg to differ from his opinion, he thought you tasted sweet. Your skin was oddly sweet, perhaps even a small tinge of sourness to it.

Such a charming little thing, like honey or perhaps even sweeter than any honey he has ever tasted.

"...Such a pretty little thing. Such a servile. Such a weakling. For me alone."

He cooed, tucking the loose curls of your hair behind your ears as he began giving you delicate kisses up your neck, soaking up the squeaks and whines that would emerge from your mouth whenever his lips would touch the tender area right beneath your ears.

"C-Capitano......"

You would gasp as you felt his fingers creep between your thighs and under your dress, riding up the material just to your thighs. The flimsy fabric now serves just as an inconvenience that prevents Capitano from achieving his objective, yet he'll admit you looked ravishing adorned with it.

He would lightly brush his fingers over your clothed cunt, eliciting a low shriek from you as you tried to cross your legs only to have him easily stop you. His strength was far beyond yours, perhaps not even comparable in the slightest.

"Do not cross your legs."

He whispered, feeling your legs loosen slightly before lowering further, allowing the man to have better access to your cunt. Pushing your panties aside, one of his thick and long fingers slip into your tiny hole, filling you up and taking you by surprise which earns a low huff from the captain.

As your hands frantically grasped the man's coat, another finger slipped into you, causing you to arch against him. Comparatively speaking, his hands were longer and thicker than yours; if you were to use four fingers instead of two, that would be the size of his hands. Your eyes are starting to tear up from the searing, and Capitano gently hushes you, placing his palm against your lips as he attempts to muffle your moan.

"Cry for me. Beg for me to touch you, what sort of captain am I if I cannot satisfy my beloved servant?"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin au #yandere x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fatui #yandere zhongli #yandere genshin #yandere childe #yandere capitano #yandere Pantalone #headcanon #yandere capitano x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere pantalone x reader

[jinnie-ret]

oddinary house pt 7

siren!seungmin x reader

genre: horror

content warnings: death

word count: 2.4k

summary: y/n is entranced by the voice of a siren before she is swept away in the odds of possible revival

ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Paint a pretty picture for me

Swim in the depths

You'll forever be home

If you paint a pretty picture for me

We'll give you everything

If only you'd see..."

"Who are you?!" Y/N shook her head, blinking out of her trance as she realised she was no longer with Felix and instead heading towards a lake, black swirling water creating dark paths around a scaly figure half submerged. His voice was beautiful, Y/N knew that, anyone knew that, and it wasn't long until she was under his spell again, her feet involuntarily moving forward until she stood right at the edge of the short pier that rested two metres above the body of water with an evil aura around it.

"You'll be ok,

You'll be alright.

I'll lay with you here til it turns into night

If you paint a pretty picture for me.

Don't make it so easy we'll give you a fright."

"I just knew I'd be seeing you soon," his sweet voice echoed around the garden, birds suddenly darting from the trees and off to somewhere else, as if his voice was startling. But even though Y/N deep down felt a sense of unease, she couldn't let her anxieties get the better of her here when he was somehow keeping her calm with his smooth butter like words, that gently fell off the tip of his tongue so perfectly.

"Your voice it's..." Y/N couldn't find the words, slowly sitting on her knees at the edge of the pier, where there would have been a slight creaking under her weight had she still been alive.

"Perfect?" his charming smile shone even brighter than the sheen of water decorating his scaled skin, more clear than ever when he swam closer.

"No it's..." Y/N slowly felt her trance wearing off, yet she was still lost for words, maybe not because of his gorgeous melodies but maybe more because of his stunning appearance.

"No? How about beautiful?" he smirked again, floating right beneath her now.

"Well yes but..." Y/N rubbed her head frustratedly, just wanting to get rid of the mind fog that had taken over. Was this part of limbo or was it because of the man... mermaid in front of her?

"But?! It's enchanting isn't it ghostie, you just had to find me," he chuckled, a richness in his tone that shook her more out of her trance as he teased her.

"I-I don't get how I got here," Y/N shook her head, shifting slightly to sit with her legs dangling over the edge.

"Well I assume because you're dead," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he had better things to deal with, though he couldn't hide his intrigue with their new resident. He never could.

"What?" Y/N turned to him, now annoyed.

"Don't tell me you didn't realise you died, Changbin hyung really should have picked a smarter one..." Seungmin sighed, disappointed if he was dealing with someone that could not meet his level of intelligence.

"I mean how I'm stood in front of you right now!! I know how I died you dickhead!" Y/N kicked the water, splashing the merman in the face in pure exasperation.

"Well that's not a very nice thing to say now, is it?" he rubbed the water out of his face and hair, which seemed counterproductive considering he was in the lake anyways.

"Ugh you're insufferable," Y/N facepalmed, she still didn't know why she was here, and all that was happening was he was getting under her skin.

"Actually I'm Seungmin, and you're more untameable, I should say, my dear..." Seungmin smirked, turning to swim away.

"Untameable? Wait, wait... Seungmin! What do you mean?"

"Normally they are still under my trance by now, but you, darling, seemed to have broken out of it, unique indeed," Seungmin swam around on his back, conspiring how it possibly could have happened that she managed to do so.

The sudden scuffling of small feet hitting against the ground and then wooden pier caused Seungmin and Y/N to turn around and look at the chupacabra which morphed back into Jisung.

"Woah, ok, that was, wow, creepy," Jisung nodded, hands resting on his hips as he referred to the two of them turning around in sync, like it was some horror movie. He had seen worse things though.

"Jisung, you reek, I told you not to come to my lake," Seungmin wrinkled his nose, all he could smell from Jisung was blood and dead animals from the sacrifices he'd make.

"Jisung, why are you here?" Y/N ignored Seungmin's comment and looked at the man who was out of breath, holding up a finger momentarily before he spoke once again.

"The ritual. It's, it's ready," Jisung caught his breath, gesturing Y/N to come with him quickly.

But as she stood, she realised just how weak she felt. Even with her soul trapped in limbo, it was making it more difficult for the entity she had become to move around. Her glow was brighter, but she had lost her spark.

"Any time now, Y/N!" Jisung tried to hurry her to move yet she still wasn't able to.

"I-I, can't, my arms, legs... so heavy," Y/N winced, and Jisung panicked as he saw it in her face that she was genuinely trying.

"This is not good this is not good... Seungmin I swear to god if you-!" Jisung growled through gritted teeth, one moment away from wanting to jump into the lake himself and throttle the siren.

"You won't sacrifice me, you need me too much," Seungmin hauled himself out of the lake, waiting a moment for his delicately scaled tail to shift into a pair of legs instead. He hopped up onto the pier and rushed next to Y/N's side.

"Yeah, what are you gonna do that's so helpful?" Jisung rolled his eyes and tapped his foot rapidly, time was ticking.

Seungmin simply turned away, ignoring the rambles of the chupacabra before his voice made Y/N's head turn towards him straight away.

"Don't you want to come with me?

You're hurting dear,

I feel your fear..."

Seungmin began to sing and Y/N's eyes heartbreakingly welled up, understanding the situation she was in would either revive her, or cause her to be a ghost forever.

"... It's time to move or pay your fee,

You're hurting dear,

I feel your fear."

Han's eyes widened as Seungmin's words prompted Y/N to start moving upwards, the glow around still getting brighter, but they had time, now that the siren was helping. Y/N's body didn't even seem to allow her to walk, she was floating, the only awareness about her was through her eyes.

"Let's make a change,

Need to make a change today.

Don't be afraid,

Your fate will rearrange today."

And with that Han raced back to the circle for the ritual, each one of the other residents of Oddinary House gathering around it. Seungmin brought Y/N's glowing figure closer and closer, and the closer they got, the more and more the candles flickered wildly, sensing the presence of the soul it would be connecting back to its shell.

Felix flew in, his ethereal wings extending outwards one last time as he took his position next to Changbin, handing him a small satchel to hold onto, which he was given a respectful nod in response. Although, he still couldn't hide his small frown remembering that no one had told him that Y/N was here. And now they'd all be desperately watching her revival.

Hyunjin descended from the very place Y/N had fallen from, however this time, instead of falling to his death and landing in the circle like Y/N had when he pushed her, he gracefully landed, moving round to stand next to Minho whose nose was twitching, picking up on the scents of everyone as they were brought together.

Chan had managed to leave the reception area of the house, extending wires out of his arms to bring him to a halt at the edge of the candle lit circle. He brought them out of the ground just as a bat flew past him and landed onto the top of a small metal stand, which had been placed with purpose, also around the circle.

"Right, ok, umm, everyone's here, that's good, that's good..." Jisung wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers.

"Y/N is not here yet. Seungmin is not here yet," Chan scanned the circle and took note of what he could see.

"Shut up, Chan, he's bringing her now," Jisung glared at him, his anxiety and frustrations getting the best of him as he just wanted the ritual to go well.

"Sungie..." Felix shook his head, always the mediator.

"Just be quiet, everyone, we wanted Y/N here for a reason, yes? Give him some freedom to think in peace," Minho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nothing that guy doesss issss in peace, he literally killss animalsss every day," Hyunjin hissed, arms folded.

"And you killed Y/N, so this is on you, Jinnie," Jisung argued back, stomping his foot down.

"Yah! You nearly stomped on her body's leg!" Changbin warned.

"You'll be ok,

You'll be alright,

We'll lay here with you even if it takes all night."

Seungmin finished singing, bringing Y/N into the circle, and allowing her to fall to her knees once more. He took his place between Hyunjin and Chan, rubbing his throat slightly. It had taken a lot out of him, to bring her limbotic soul back from one end of the garden to the other.

"Ok, Y/N, I'm going to need you to try really hard, ok? Try really hard to move back into your body. I just need you to think really hard, and try and get back into position of how your body is laying, ok?" Jisung kneeled down next to Y/N, hoping she'd be able to do it. Yet his voice was so muffled through her brain fog.

Y/N felt exhausted. Is this how everyone felt before they moved on from limbo? Her limbs felt like they weighed tonnes, yet it couldn't deter her from her resilient mind.

"We can't move you now, Y/N, you need to do this yourself, just think, imagine yourself back in your body, remember the sensations in your feet, your legs..." Jisung's voice broke through now, the mind fog disappearing, just as quickly as everything turned to darkness.

Y/N didn't see anything for a while, until she did. The brightness that had previously been blurring the edges of her vision before wasn't there, but did that mean she died?

If it was anything to go by with the way her hand was tightly clutched with Jisung's, then no. She was very much alive, and breathing.

"Ji..?" Y/N mumbled, sitting up in the king sized bed she had been resting in. The bedroom was decorated in reds and golds, dark oak furniture bringing an elegant element to intertwine it all.

"Y/N... Oh good! You're awake! You're alive!" Jisung suddenly realised she was awake, but instead of offering her comfort, he cheered to himself. "Yes! I knew I could do it! In Hyunjin's face! That'll tell him!" he hollered, before swiftly morphing into his animalistic form and galloping down the hallways.

Y/N rubbed her eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the way she could wiggle her toes against the soft plush sheets on the bed. Loving the way she could feel her hair, see the goosebumps appear on her arms. She was back.

"Hello, Y/N," Chan was stood in the doorway, feet rooted to the floor.

"Hi, CB97," Y/N lazily waved at him, unable to hide her giddy mood at simply living again.

"Y/N. I thought we were more than that," Chan's head tilted to the left.

"Sorry, umm, Chan, haha... wait how are you up here?!" Y/N laughed before realising she had never seen him anywhere apart from the reception.

"Mr Yang has asked to see you now," Chan informed her.

"Why now? I don't get it..." Y/N felt her heart thudding, another oddly comforting feeling considering she could recognise her nerves getting worse.

"Please exit the bedroom and I will guide you on your way," Chan suddenly turned around before he had zoomed down the corridor in a flash, the door shutting behind him. Yet it almost tentatively opened again, as if reminding Y/N that she needed to have the all important meeting.

Safe to say, she struggled to find her feet, and not because of anything weird like a mishap with the ritual, no. But it was like a baby learning how to walk for the first time.

Using the walls of the hallway to support her wobbly legs, Y/N followed through as each door opened in her path, showing her where to go.

"You passssss the tesssst," Hyunjin hissed, a small smile on his face.

"What the hell man!" Y/N jumped, stumbling before grabbing onto a banister. "You trying to kill me again?!"

"You have ssssurvived, I wish you a great ssstay," he smoothly moved past her, leaving her momentarily stunned before she continued in the same path he took.

It wasn't long until she was guided towards a meeting room, a long dining room in that same dark oak from before, stretched across the room. The room was huge, making Y/N feel even smaller as she approached the table. A dusty chandelier hung right above the middle, and bookcases full of old books, or ones that had not been touched for years, were lined up against the walls.

Felix gave a small wave to Y/N when he saw her, and she couldn't help but wave back, before she was pulled away by a pair of furry hands belonging to Minho, who yearned for her scent to be next to him. She was sat between him and Changbin, the sandman patting her hand lightly and easing her nerves, the tiniest amount of golden dust lingering in the grooves of her knuckles.

On one side she sat between them, Han on the other side of Changbin. Opposite her, from left to right, sat Chan, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Felix. That left the empty chair at the head of the table. It seemed more regal than others, a rich air around it before a bat suddenly flew in.

"Ah! Stupid bat!" Y/N jolted in her seat, making Minho giggle and Felix send her a warning look, slowly shaking his head.

She didn't understand why, until the bat materialised right before her eyes, into an attractive young man.

"What, I thought you wanted to meet me? That's no way to treat head of house, now is it?" he chuckled, fangs peering out of his mouth.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @amararosesblog

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #oddinary house

[boobo13cambridge]

O Re Piya | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: kissing, fingering.

Summary: It’s the day of your brother’s wedding, and you're running late. The main culprit: your handsy husband who can’t seem to control himself seeing you in a lehenga. 

A/N: Hello, everyone! I’ve been MIA for a few weeks because I was dealing with a lot of personal issues. I wrote this sporadically and I really wanted to finish this for you guys. Please leave me feedback, I would greatly appreciate it. Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

Nazrein bolen duniya bole

(The glances are telling, the world knows)

dil ki zaban haaye dil ki zubaan

(The story of my heart, oh, the story of my heart)

Ishq maange ishq chahe koi toofan

(Love prays, love wishes for a hurricane (to stir the life within))

The sun rose high in the sky, painting the world in a warm and golden glow. The flowers, arranged with care and love, burst into full bloom, their petals as vibrant and colourful as the bride's lehenga. The sun's rays kissed each delicate petal, illuminating their beauty with an ethereal glow.

The gentle breeze danced through the trees, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the delicate rustling of leaves. The birds chirped merrily, their songs adding to the symphony of the day. The sound was a soft and soothing melody, one that filled the air with tranquillity and joy. 

The guests, dressed in their finest attire, basked in the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the day, and the groom’s sister was still hidden from the common eye as she struggled to get ready, the emotional toll of the day a huge weigh on her delicate shoulders. Thankfully, her husband was out helping her family to lessen the burden and give her some breathing room to get ready. 

As the young beauty came out of the bathroom leaving behind a cloud of jasmine and oud, her makeup delicately done to match the pink hues of her lehenga and her long black hair flowing down her back in delicate waves, her eyes were immediately drawn to the soft, delicate hues of her lehenga. A vision in light pink, the fabric flowed like a gentle stream, its folds and creases catching the light of the sun in a breathtaking display.

The intricate embroidery, painstakingly crafted by skilled artisans, was a masterpiece of intricate design, with every stitch and bead radiating its own unique brilliance. The shimmering stones, like sparkling stars in the sky, adorned the hem and neckline of the lehenga, casting a soft and iridescent glow.

She carefully slipped into the choli, the bodice fit her like a glove, accentuating her curves. Next, the young woman delicately dragged on the lehenga, the flowing skirt that trailed behind her seemed to float like a soft cloud, dancing around her legs with each step. She felt like one of those Disney princesses that she used to love as a little girl. 

Her eyes caught the reflection in the mirror, and she gasped at the sight before her. The lehenga had transformed her, turning her into a radiant beauty. She reached for the matching dupatta, draping it over her right shoulder and allowing it to cascade down her back and flow in the front in a soft wave.

As she finished getting ready, spraying the perfume her beloved got her, spreading the rich aroma of amber and jasmine around the room,  her very own prince charming entered the room. His dark eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as he beheld her beauty.

"Mon amour," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and desire, "you are absolutely stunning. How did I ever get so lucky to have you?"

His hands reached out to caress the delicate fabric of her lehenga, his fingers tracing the intricate embroidery with awe. His gaze lingered on the gentle curve of her waistline, the soft curve of her hips, and the delicate tilt of her plump lips.

A warm blush crept up her cheeks as she closed her eyes and basked in the sweet affection of his touch, savouring the feel of his hands on her skin. “Kylian…arrête. We need to be downstairs, they’re waiting for us.”

"Mmm, bébé. Je suis fou de toi," he murmured, his voice low and husky with lust. "You take my breath away, mon amour. You are like a goddess, come to earth to bless me with your beauty."

She felt her cheeks darken as he whispered words of adoration and love into her ear. Her heart swelled with affection and gratitude for this man who made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Kylian drew her close, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her into his embrace. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, trailing kisses down her smooth skin each one filled with deep and abiding love that she felt deep in her bones. Her body responded to his touch, her skin igniting with a fire that burned hot and bright. She revelled in the sensation of his hands on her body, leaning into him, his touch igniting her senses and sending her heart racing.

But even as her desire for him grew, she knew they couldn't stay here forever. They needed to join the rest of the family, to celebrate her brother's wedding. People would get suspicious if they didn’t come down, especially as the groom’s older sister, her presence was imperative.

"Kylian, we need to go," she murmured, her voice tinged with reluctance. "Everyone is waiting for us."

The young football star groaned in frustration, his hands tightening around her waist. "Just a few more minutes, ma chérie," he pleaded. "I can't resist you in this lehenga. You look so beautiful."

Despite the minutes ticking away, she smiled at his words, slowly losing the will to push him away. “Kylian, s’il-vous-plaît, we need t-”

Kylian’s lips found hers in a fierce, passionate kiss, cutting her off. The flames of desire and passion that had been building between the two lovers erupted and surrounded them in an inferno. Kylian's hands roamed freely over her body, tracing the curves of her hips and the gentle slope of her breasts. She moaned softly, her body responding to his touch with a fire that burned deep within her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he kissed her hungrily, his hands trying to reach every part of her body with increasing urgency.

She felt his muscles tense under her fingertips as he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her towards the bed. He lay her down gently, his eyes never leaving her as he hovered over her, his breath hot on her skin. Looking into his eyes, she felt an indescribable emotion pass through her, it was as if every particle in her body was intertwining with her beloved’s. The surge of emotions made her breathless as she gently cradled Kylian’s face in her hands. “Je t’aime si fort, Ky.”

Kylian’s intense gaze softened slightly as he turned slightly to kiss her hand, “Je t’aime, mon coeur. You’re my everything, my complete half. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life.”

His confession brought tears to her eyes. A single drop threatened to fall but he gently wiped it, summarizing in that moment all that he was to her. 

Chalna aahiste ishq naya hai

(Tread carefully as this love is new)

Pehla Yeh Vada Humne Kiya Hai

(This is the first time I've taken a vow)

Uniting their lips in a soft embrace, Kylian gently swiped her bottom lip with his tongue. She obtained her mouth to let him in, as their tongues came together in a passionate dance that sent sparks to her every extremity. As they grew needy, Kylian's hands roamed over her body with an intense hunger, his lips trailing down her neck, pausing to nuzzle against her collarbone. She gasped in pleasure as he continued to explore her body, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that spread through her like wildfire.

His fingers found their way to the soft curves of her breasts, and he squeezed them gently, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. “Kylian, more.”

His touch was electric, sending waves of desire through her body. She arched her back, pressing herself into him, eager for more of his touch. Kylian's fingers kneaded her breasts with increasing urgency, his touch growing more intense as he sought to pleasure her. He toyed with her nipples, flicking them with his thumb and forefinger, causing her body to tremble with delight. She moaned his name, her breath coming in short gasps as she surrendered to his touch. 

One of his hands trailed down her lehenga lifting it up with urgency so he could explore wet heat between her soft thighs. His breathing grew ragged as his fingers brushed the soaking lacy fabric. 

“Kylian, we can’t. We have to go,” she protested while pushing herself into his fingers for more friction. “Bébé, let me just make you feel good, oui?” 

He pushed her panties to the side and shoved two fingers in her tight eat as she let out a loud moan. Kylian didn't want to silence her wanting to hear her moan her name in that breathless, needy tone. 

He curved his fingers reaching that spot that had her eyes crossing as she clung to his muscled back, desperate whimpers leaving her painted lips. Kylian buried his face in the valley of her breasts, his tongue leaving a wet sheen that gleamed in the sunlight. 

As the knot in her stomach tightened, Kylian increased his pace, his fingers and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive her to the brink of ecstasy. She clung to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin as she surrendered herself to his touch.

“Ky-Kylian, I’m gonna cum. Please, let me cum,” she begged as the pleasure was too much.

“Cum, bébé. Cum for me.”

Searing hot pleasure raced through her body, as she exploded, tightening around Kylian’s fingers which were still thrusting at a steady, helping her through her orgasm.

As she came down, her breathing hard and cheeks high with colour, she opened her eyes to Kylian looking down at her with soft eyes as he placed delicate kisses on her face.

“Hi, mon coeur. Enjoy yourself?” he asked cheekily. Giggling she grabbed his cheeks and bit his nose playfully. “You know I did it, you cheeky brat.”

A loud knock on the door made them both freeze, the moment shattered by the intrusion. "Kylian, Y/N, it's time to go! The baraat* is ready!" called out a voice from outside the door.

“Coming!”, she answered slightly panicked. Pushing her husband off and rushing to the mirror. Her lehenga choli was a little crinkled, and her mascara was smudged under her eyes. “Kylian! You ruined my dress and makeup, merde.” 

Rolling his eyes, Kylian came behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her, leaving a quick kiss on her neck. “T’inquiète, mon amour. I’ll help you, you’ll be fine.”

Shaking her head, she realized at that moment that while her beloved was definitely going to get them in trouble, she wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.

End Note:

*Baraat: a celebratory wedding procession that escorts the groom, who is traditionally on horseback, to the site of the wedding.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappé #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #psg #footballer fanfiction #footballer blurb #desi girl x kylian mbappe #desi girl #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian fanfic #kylian smut #kylian x oc #kylian x you #mbappe #kyky

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your villainous voidbeast husband takes you on an outing

Voidbeast (Valerian) x female reader

General Plot: Valerian takes you someplace special and you have breakfast together

Word Count: 1k

W: sfw monster fluff, yandere behavior

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Six

Valerian brushed your cheek and you roused from where you were sleeping on his chest. With a blush, you wiped the drool you’d gotten on his robe away and peered up at him. 

“Are we there?” you asked, rubbing your bleary eyes. 

Valerian smiled at you, taking in your rumpled morning face. It was incredibly cute the way your nose crinkled when you were sleepy. 

“Take a look,” he said, gesturing out of the carriage window. 

You scooted closer and leaned over to look outside. 

“Wait! We have to stop!” you gasped.

He chuckled.

“Just a little while longer, my sweet,” he said, smoothing your hair under his big hand, “we’ll arrive at the overlook soon.” 

The carriage took you around a bend, driving you back into the forest and you lost track of the beautiful view only to gasp all over again when you emerged. 

Valerian called the vehicle to a stop at a small grassy clearing and helped you out. 

You broke away from him before he could stop you and went running to the edge of the cliff nearby. 

“This is amazing!” you shouted into the void below you. 

Stretching out before you was a deep canyon that went so far down it was pitch darkness at the bottom. What was fantastic about it, however, was as the sun rose into the sky it lit up the glittering layers of rainbow colored rock that striped the face of the cliffs. The bands of color went on as far as you could see in both directions, looking like something you might make from Legos, not a natural occurrence. 

Valerian’s heavy footsteps approached from behind you and he dragged you anxiously to his chest. 

“Don’t get too close to the edge,” he warned, clutching you to him as if you were going to throw yourself over the side. 

“How is this possible?” you asked. 

Nothing like this existed on Earth when you lived in your time. 

“Humans, actually,” he said, “though they never intended to make something so beautiful, of course. The bands you see are made of layers and layers of tainted earth from wars long past. Many, many times humans have destroyed themselves, turning the planet all sorts of colors. After a while it built up into this…Look at the top.” 

He pointed to the last layer before the dark topsoil. It was electric blue. 

“That was the last war,” he said, “they dissolved themselves with a gas and it left nothing but blue ash behind. The survivors lived in underground bunkers for generations before they emerged.” 

The spectacle was a little darker, now that you knew the truth, but it was still stunning. Each civilization had become nothing but a sparkling strip of color. 

“Come,” he said, “the servants packed breakfast.” 

He laid out a blanket on the grass and arranged a basket full of goodies next to you. The sky turned from its golden morning hue to the perfect blue of a sunny day. You shoved a crusty pastry in your mouth and chewed happily as the birds gathered around the two of you looking for treats. 

Valerian's eyes watched you intensely and you averted yours, blushing, your cheeks stuffed. 

“I’ve watched you for so long,” he said, “but it's completely different being here with you.” 

He drew a hand over his eyes for a moment and coughed out a laugh. 

“You know I thought of approaching you normally, changing myself into a smaller, more palatable version of myself for you,” he said, “for a while I really thought that was the way to go. I could approach you at that cafe you worked at, become a regular…ask you out to a movie one day. I could give you a fantasy of normalcy.” 

His four pupils narrowed as he focused on you. 

“But this…this is soooo much better. I’ve never been accepted before…only feared, but for some reason you don’t fear me.” 

Your jaw froze mid chew and you realized what he was saying was true. 

You’d been frightened and disoriented at first, but Valerian himself didn’t scare you. Your feelings were scary, the future was scary, but he was not. Even his more monstrous form was more startling than anything. Now that you’d gotten used to it, you were confident he would never physically harm you and his growling and gnashing was all for show. You swallowed. 

“I honestly can’t tell you which would have been better,” you admitted, brushing aside his last statement, because you weren’t sure how to respond to it.

“I miss my family…but I never would have known the truth of the world. I would have lived my life oblivious to all of this…wonder in the universe. Now that I know, I can’t say I want to go back to ignorance.” 

Valerian hummed to himself, pleased. It wasn’t a confession of love, but he’d shown you something you’d never seen before and sparked your interest. It was deeply satisfying.

“There are so many things I want to show you,” he said, “there are other planets than Earth…other civilizations. We could live as gods on any one of them.” 

You hid your smile. Inflicting his temper on a potentially innocent civilization was dubious, but it amused you that his mind immediately went to establishing himself as a deity. He wasn’t exactly the good guy you’d always pictured yourself with. 

“That’s really not necessary,” you said quickly, “I mean the “living as gods” part…it might be nice to peek in on aliens once in a while though.” 

“Whatever you wish,” he said grinning and handing you another pastry, “you should eat more. Your frail human body needs nourishment.” 

“I am not frail!” you pouted, taking the pastry anyway.

“You are tiny with teeny little bones…delicate…little breakable bones,” he pointed out and then he frowned, looking at you thoughtfully. 

The look worried you a bit. 

“I’ll have to fix that…” he said to himself. 

“What?” you asked. 

He smiled at you, flashing his large, sharp teeth. 

“Nothing,” he said, “eat up! When you’re done I’ll take you to the bottom of the canyon.” 

“How?” The canyon looked endless. 

He snorted as if the question were stupid. 

“I’ll fly,” he chuckled.   

You chewed quickly, eager to get going. 

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster fluff #yander fluff #male yandere #yandere male #yandere headcanons #monster x human #monster oc #monster husband

[endlessburningdarkness]

This is messy but I had to get it out of my system. Credit to @sun-and-moon-mushroom for the idea and link to the original prompt. Thanks for the brainworms!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shen Yuan finishes stuffing the worst of his mess into drawers. The maid he's hired is due to arrive any minute but he's not so shameless that he won't try to clean a bit beforehand. Despite what his family thinks, Shen Yuan isn't completely useless.

The doorbell rings and he quickly checks his breath, fresh and minty still, because Shen Yuan did gargle with mouthwash earlier. There's still takeout boxes strewn on the coffee table but no time to throw them in the garbage now.

He rushes to open the door, apology ready on his lips.

"Sorry about the-" His voice falls away.

There's a man at the door. A man in a maid outfit. Shen Yuan is eye level with his chest, where the plunging neckline of his shirt exposes the white curves of his generous pecs. Shen Yuan's eyes follow exposed skin to the white ribbon tied around a small waist.

Shen Yuan's eyes drop, tracing down the dark fabric of the skirt, which ends very quickly, lined with white ruffles. They rest against the soft flesh of thick thighs. Shen Yuan's brain short circuits and he gapes, mouth hanging open.

His eyes continue down, unbidden, over strong calves and smooth, hairless skin, all the way to dainty ankles peeking out from ruffled white socks. They finish at a pair of polished black shoes, heeled and topped with small white bows.

"Sir?" The deep voice speaking over his head jerks his attention to the man's face.

And what a face! Shen Yuan suddenly understands why women swoon in those stupid stories. He's close to swooning now. The man is absolutely, gorgeously, swoon worthy. Flawless, soft-looking skin. The kind that bounces back at the press of a finger. He thinks the man must be wearing makeup, his lips can't be that red naturally. A strong jaw, elegant nose, sharp cheekbones and big doe eyes waiting for him. An adorable, perfect curl falls over his forehead.

"Uh.."

Shen Yuan's thoughts come slowly. This must be a mistake. Why is the most beautiful man in the world dressed in a maid outfit outside his door?

"You ordered the maid service? The lovely and masculine —Shen Yuan dizzily notes— man asks.

"Yes." Shen Yuan croaks.

He can't lie to such a stunning person, even if there's no reason for him to be at Shen Yuan's door. Perhaps he's lost...

The man smiles and the world fades away. Shen Yuan thinks if birds appeared at his shoulders and started signing a la Disney princess, he wouldn't be surprised. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The man's eyes curve into enchanting crescents and his cheeks pull up cutely. Full lips stretch to reveal pearly white teeth.

"Hello sir, I'm Luo Binghe, your assigned maid!" He bows deep and polite.

Shen Yuan is too busy admiring the graceful movement to register his words. The man stands back up, he' so tall, yet slender... and holds up some ID or something, as if it matters, as if Shen Yuan is going to accuse someone so perfect of any-

"Can I come in?"

Shen Yuan freezes. Come in? To Shen Yuan's filthy apartment? Why on earth would he want to do that? He doesn't reply, blinking in confusion instead.

The man steps forward and Shen Yuan automatically backs out of his way. Shen Yuan's cheeks flush, ashamed as he recalls his own appearance, he's wearing sweats and a shirt he hasn't changed for days. The man's cologne? perfume, wafts into his nose, sweet and strong.

By the time Shen Yuan regains some of his wits, the man has closed the door and replaced his dainty heels with the indoor slippers available in the shoe rack. He smiles again at Shen Yuan, lowering his long lashes and inclining his head demurely, and walks further into the apartment. Shen Yuan stares at him walking away, swallowing, his eyes track the sway of the short skirt.

The gentle movement of the fabric causes round curves and the white of high-cut panties to peek out with every step. Shen Yuan's knees weaken and he leans against the wall to stop himself from falling to the floor.

What the fuck is going on?!

#svsss #svsss fic #my writing #my fic #i said it would take ages but the brainworms got to me #they are feasting! #hopefully i got it out of my system lol #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingyuan

[snaililita]

🌼Halo of Flowers🌼

Lyney x Reader

Tooth-Rotting fluff!!

Reader's gender is unspecified!!

I've noticed a lot of Lyney angst fics... and a lot of Lyney fics haven't been radiating the same vibe that they were when Fontaine was first released.... So I wanted to make something happy and just... yknow... peaceful!! The twins and Freminet have been through a lot... I just wanna see them have a moment of tranquility:')

!!MILD SPOILERS: Snezhevichs' backstories and the ending of the Fontaine story! But it pretty much just goes "oh this isn't a threat anymore" doesn't really say how. But still, you have been warned.!!

You longed for moments like these. Peaceful, quiet moments where nothing but the wind singing harmonies from lands far away in your ears and the birds reciting poems about the sights they had seen on their travels from wherever they once were to where they are currently are present in the air. When it was just you and the people you love most enjoying life without worries of impending doom or where your next meal was to be had. These indeed were the best moments, the moments you lived for.

You, the magician twins, and their younger brother were all together in one place, safe and happy. Freminet was a little ways off in the distance, but not out of earshot, looking at sea shells. Lynette was off under a tree not too far off as well, preparing tea and a flip up table with snacks of hers. As for you? You sat out in the field with Lyney's head in your lap as you comb your fingers through his lovely blonde hair.

He looked so peaceful. There wasn't a single worry plaguing his mind right now. Everyone he loves is safe! And he hadn't any upcoming shows- Fontaine's flood crisis had been solved as well! You had to admit, the look of pure bliss is a wonderful fit for his handsome face. You couldn't help but smile as you felt your heart swell knowing just how truly happy he was right now. After everything he and his siblings have been through, he truly deserves this. They all do.

Intertwining your fingers with the blades of grass beneath your hand, you decide to look away from Lyney's hypnotic features for a moment. You're glad you did because you spotted a patch of sweet flowers and dandelions right within reach. Reaching out, you pick as many as one fist can hold before regretably retracting your other hand from your beloved's head for a moment.

This of course disturbs him, he opens his eyes briefly and catches the view of you weaving the stems of the flowers together as quickly as you can, clearly having not noticed him wake up. Working your nimble fingers dexterously, you quickly finished a flower crown. The yellow petals gave it the appearance of a halo, a halo befitting of the angel who's head you placed it upon.

You set the lovingly crafted crown on Lyney's head as gently as you could as to not disturb him, only for a cheeky grin to spread across his face and one of his stunning, violet eyes to peak at you from between his lashes. You had been caught! Lyney snickered at your appalled expression as he sat up, careful not to loose the crown in the process.

He looked so radiant and beautiful, truly like an angel that the stories from your childhood described. He had been through so much, burned and bruised, betrayed and scorned.... and yet... he still gave his heart to you. Willingly. And now he sits before you, smiling- laughing so joyously as if you were some sort of goddess that had descended upon him.

He seemed to notice your silence and staring, he asked what was wrong and you simply smiled and shook your head. You told him that you were captivated by his sparkle, and how he looked like an angel with that flower crown on. Your angel. He gently smiled and pulled you in for a hug, resting his head in your shoulder and sighed. It was not a sigh of exhaustion, rather a sigh of contentment.

You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him, accepting his embrace to the fullest. He leaned back before giving you another one of his cheshire like grins, then attacking you with an myriad of light pecks all over your face and neck. One after another, he was absolutely ruthless. You were giggling like a little baby due to your ticklish nature and Lyney's well placed smooches before a familiar voice called out.

"Well, I had made tea but by the looks of it, it appears you two's lips are already preoccupied so I suppose I'll have an extra few cups."

Lynette chided you and her brother. You two of course quickly pleaded with her as you scrambled to your feet, running off to her direction much to her amusement. Ah yes... peaceful moments like these truly are the best of them all. It's so wonderful knowing that these moments are to become much more frequent in the future.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#adelita writes #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney #lyney comfort #lyney fluff #lyney and lynette #soft lyney #lynette too #i love them so much #Please everyone stop being so mean to the twins in your fics they did nothing wrong #They just wanted to be friends #We are pals with Tartaglia and he tried to flood a nation #These guys are doing the exact opposite #What they heck #Traveller is a hypocrite

[starhvney]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: mystreet vylad x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you’ve jokingly given vylad small flowers since you’ve known him, but as newly weds he surprises you with a leather bound journal, the scent of flowers pressed into the pages.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: tooth-rotting fluff, vylad actually being sickeningly romantic, established relationship, vylad and reader are married

𝐂𝐖: none

𝐀/𝐍: vylad the man that you are

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“where are you going?” you ask, turning to your husband as he leaves your side from the swinging daybed, his feet padding across the back patio to the door.

“don’t worry, i’ll be back in a second. i just have something i want to show you.”

“okay.”

you wrap the knitted blanket around your body, the apple cider in your cup still steaming as it keeps your cold hands warm. your wedding with vylad couldn’t have been set for a more perfect time of year. it was at the prime time of autumn, when the leaves had all turned into beautiful shades of red to yellow, yet hadn’t begun to fall to the ground. it was now two weeks later, and the both of you had officially settled into your new home.

the evening air was chilly, rustling and carrying leaves across the ground and invoking more evening coos from the last waking birds of the day. you’re not sure what could make you feel more at peace and utterly happy in this moment, yet the stunning man you married never ceases to give you more reasons.

he’s soon snuggled back next to you, placing a thick, tied, leather-bound journal in your hands with an eager smile. for a moment you see that eager young boy you had met so long ago, round cheeks squishing against those beautiful green eyes.

“what is this?” you ask, gingerly taking the book in your hands and smelling a faint whiff of dried flowers from between the worn pages.

he holds your mug for you, cheekily taking a sip before nodding down at the journal.

“just take a look.”

you stare at him in awe for a moment, before turning your attention down to his gift. unbinding the tweed rope that kept the journal from flopping open, you crack open the worn leather to the first page.

a small pressed dandelion is preserved under a cleanly placed sheet of clear tape, displayed under a small entry written in vylad’s elegant writing.

thursday, 8/13

i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’ve always been a quiet person, but when i’m with her i’m not quiet out of choice. how can i feel so comfortable and happy around someone yet be so nervous?

she gave me this flower today, with the most beautiful smile i’ve ever seen on her face as she told me to cheer up. she’s as sweet as ever.

your head whips back to your husband, who merely smiles and presses a soft kiss against your cheek. he rests his head against your shoulder, a contented sigh leaving his lips as you turn to the next page. then the next. then the next.

each page was about you, from simply fawning over every detail of how beautiful he found you, to describing the days that you had spent together. you remember starting to give vylad flowers as a cute inside joke between the two of you–but then it grew to simply be a habit of expressing your love for him.

while he had given you flowers too, you hadn’t taken the time to neatly press each one into a journal, writing it down to engrave each occasion into your memory like he did.

the sweet scent of the dried flowers wafts into your face with every crinkle of the next page turning, but you don’t think they’re the culprit for the dizzying surge you feel in your throat. 

“vylad…” tears prick your eyes, an overwhelming feeling clouding swelling your heart in your chest.

“just keep reading, love.”

saturday, 2/5

she wouldn’t stop apologizing, saying she couldn’t afford a “real” gift for me on my birthday. she laughed and gave me a flower instead, saying she’d make up for it in the future. how do i tell her this was the best thing she could’ve given me, that her presence is the greatest gift that i cherish?

you remember that day. you were both freshly young adults, and while trying to stabilize yourself in this world you struggled to get the funds to spare for anyone but yourself. you felt so guilty that you couldn’t get one of your closest friends something nice for his birthday, but you can’t forget the bright smile you love so much when you had given him a singular flower instead.

he had insisted it was the best gift he had gotten yet, and while you had shaken your head disbelievingly at the time, you’re starting to realize he may have been telling the truth.

friday, 6/14

i gathered the courage to ask her to be mine today. i was the one who gave her a bouquet this time, and yet she insisted on giving me back the singular rose that was in the entire selection. her soul is sweeter and lovelier than any of the flowers i could give her. i’m so lucky.

more pages. more entries. you read every one like they were sacred artifacts. like they were the answer to why you should take your next breath.

small pictures of you and him. and so many flowers. had you really given him this many? you suppose you did. always running off into fields and tripping over fences anytime you saw one, bringing it back to him with a stupid goofy grin. you always remember he’d slip it carefully into his pocket or bag, but you assumed it was just him being too kind-hearted to toss them away in front of you.

wednesday, 3/24

we went to that beautiful field, the one that blooms with tons of different kinds of flowers during spring. of course she was so excited, my sweet girl. we made each other flower crowns and rings, and after slipping on the flower ring on her ring finger i pulled out the real one i bought a couple months ago. i was so nervous, i thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. she said yes, though, tackling me into the grass and accidentally squishing our flower crowns underneath us. i don’t think that really mattered to her anymore though. i’m the happiest man alive. 

saturday, 9/22

she’s so beautiful. i thought i might be able to stop myself from crying, but i knew it was over when i saw her walking down the aisle. i stole a flower from her bridal bouquet, but we’re preserving the rest of it and i don’t think she’ll be too upset. i love you, my sweet flower.

underneath it was one of the flowers from the theme of your wedding, it’s white petals only just beginning to fade in its liveliness under it’s neat confines. scribbled underneath it is one more line of writing, vylad’s cursive scribbles once again beautifully decorating the page. 

your beauty is everlasting, the flowers you gave me could never compare. my love for you is forever and eternal. it will out live any petal this earth can produce.

tears stream down your face, and once you gently set the journal shit next to you, your arms are tightly wrapped around vylad, who startles at the sudden movement as the swinging daybed jolts with your movements.

“woah,” he laughs, lifting away the cup of cider from spilling on either of you as his other hand pulls you to him. “careful, love.”

“i love you.” your voice is thick, throat tight as you cry into his shoulder. 

“i love you too, my beautiful flower,” he laughs, finally finding a place to set down the cup and earnestly pulling you snuggle into his lap. “you know, the goal was not to make you cry.”

“how could you think that i wouldn’t?”

“well, i cried when i completed the last page, so i guess we’re even.”

you laugh, melting against him as he presses sweet kisses along your forehead and cheeks, wiping away the tears from under your eyes.

“i guess you liked it, then?” he laughs, and you erupt in giggles again.

you didn’t just like it, you loved it enough to dedicate a whole shelf in your house to neatly display the thick journal, right next to the framed resin preservation of your wedding bouquet.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal, copy, or repost my works as your own.

#aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #aphmau #mystreet #x reader #vylad ro'meave #aphmau vylad #mystreet vylad #vylad x reader #mystreet vylad x reader #vylad ro'meave x reader

[albondiguilla007]

A short Hinny one shot cause I’ve been obsessed with @blvnk-art and the way they draw the pairing. Their Harry and Ginny are beautifully portrayed, so realistic and full of life, and with more chemistry than in the seven movies together. Go look them up, you’ll love their drawings.

“Race you to the Whomping Willow Potter”

“Your ruin Weasley”

Ginny sets off towards the stairs, dropping her bag and spilling all her books over the floor.

“Oi, what about your things!?” She barely glances at me, continuing to run like a bloody maniac, but I see a hint of a smirk before a wave of red hair hides her face. I chase after her, ignoring the protests and surprised yelps of students walking in the halls as we rush through them.

“It’s a shame you’re still the Quidditch team’s Captain! You’re bloody slow Potter!” I scoff, skipping the steps of the stairs two by two. I’d answer her, but I’m running low on energy as it is. Fuck, I do need to train more.

Her black robe billows after her, blazing long hair flying against the air coming in from the courtyard as she continues running. The startling blue sky blinds me for a few seconds, and I put a hand against my forehead to protect me against the light. The grass dances with the breeze, emerald green reflecting the rays of sun. My breath is coming in short gasps, but I don’t stop, stubbornly chasing after the sneaky little minx.

She’s ten feet away, sprinting towards the Quidditch Pitch as fast as she’s on air, laughing with mirth. I close the distance between us, five feet, three feet away until she’s at reach.

“Hah, got you” She wriggles against my arms, groaning when I just tighten them against her waist. “It was a race, not a dare to catch me you idiot” I laugh in the crook of her neck, smelling her coconut body wash and a hint of something sweet. Maybe a new perfume?

Her skin is smooth as a baby, and I unashamedly rub my nose against it. Ginny elbows my ribs and I let go with a startled yelp.

“You were enjoying that too much Potter”

The corners of her lips curl in a teasing smile, and for a moment I’m struck speechless by how beautiful she is. I’d been so blind, focusing on my best friend’s little sister to realize how fucking stunning she’d become on her own right. Brilliant, harsh and aggressively beautiful, Ginny Weasley was a force of nature.

“Well, you are my girlfriend after all” She snorts and continues walking backwards, never taking her eyes off me. She has pretty eyes, I realize, almond shaped and a beautiful shade of brown.

The sun illuminates her skin, a jumble of red freckles covering the bridge of her nose and a bit of her cheeks.

“Not if you continue being that slow no, I can’t have my boyfriend embarrass me in front of the whole school”

I smirk with malice, happy to bring her down a peg or two.

“Something you’d know about, Miss Eyes Green as Fresh Pickles Toads”

That makes her stumble, and I take the chance to close the gap between us and wrap a hand around her neck, warm with embarrassment under my fingers. Her lips are soft, and all that attitude vanishes in a second as she sighs against my lips, curling her hands around the lapels of my uniform. The low murmur of students chattering inside the castle reaches my ears, the cheerful tune of birds chirping and the rustling of leaves in the border of the Forbidden Forest.

I feel Ginny’s lips curve in a smile and I can’t help smiling back, even as we break apart and I rest my forehead against hers, breaths mingling together.

#harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #one shot #hinny one shot #fanfic