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satoruhour · 4 months

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a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶

“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.

it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you’d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.

“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”

you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.

the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.

with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.

or someone.

“h—”

if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.

but you still give him his due treatment . .

“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.

. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.

“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.

there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.

��i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”

it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.

and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.

“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”

satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.

“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.

“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.

you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”

with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.

it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.

“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”

satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.

“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”

you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”

gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”

you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”

and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”

gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.

when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.

“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”

“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”

satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.

“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.

part two

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euphoricfilter · 4 months

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the silent ‘i love you’

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: sometimes you don’t need words

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: fluff!!!! just very soft and nice and easy to read for tonight. intensional lowercase. sort of sleepy thoughts about love <3

where you can find my other works :D

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

some days jungkook simply felt like those three words weren’t enough. that the warm glow of his fragile soul couldn’t scream loud enough for your own precious existence to know how much he truly loved you.

that the whispered words of love as the both of you woke, or a gentle kiss before you both slept and met in your dreams— it simply was only the surface of how he felt. that the silent ‘i love you’ the both of you shared each day was somehow louder than the words themselves.

tender souls touching in a whimsical dance between your existence.

tangled so tight, unmoving, seeping out of you with that fluttery sort of love.

the kind of love that pulls a smile onto your lips at the mere thought of them. gentle touch enough to have your skin alight. obsessive, itching greed consuming every fibre of your being, needing them closer than humanly possible. bodies pressed together and heart beats in sync, tied together by a string of fate and life times you shared before this one.

and some days neither of you had to say ‘i love you’ but that didn’t mean the love wasn’t there. that either of you loved the other any less than you had the day before. or more than you would tomorrow. because it was ever-growing. blooming in both your chests, a flower that would live through all of eternity.

it would be him waking before you, purple and blue toothbrushes sat beside one another in the cup on the sink. or how on some days he’d pick your shower gel over his own. for no other particular reason that he loved everything about your existence, that he felt that little bit closer to you in the hours you had to part.

or remembering to tuck one of your hairties in one of his pockets, just in case.

the same hair tie you’ll find in the washing machine days later, smile tugging at your lips. because as much as you remind him to take everything out his pockets before putting them into the washing machine, there were things you could never get mad over. not when he thinks of you, even when you’re not there. a silent show of care that you never bring up because that was his secret to keep, dissolved into the back of your mind for safe keeping.

he likes to hold your hand as you cross the road, fingers interlaced. because he knows sometimes you get too caught up in your own head, unaware of the wider world around you. so he keeps you glued to the pavement before tugging you across the road. fingers squeezing yours when he knows the both of you are back to safety and you’ll let him pull you around, blind trust in him to take you where you need to go

you like picking him up from work, sat outside on a bench with a box of treats for the walk home. and he would indulge you, even if he had the car parked a block away. not caring if it would mean he had to walk the next morning. because he would never abandon those gentle moments with you, shoulders knocking as you kiss sweet cream from his lips, desperate to hear about his day just as much as you want to share yours

you liked to say ‘i love you’ through the stars. tugging him to the roof of the apartment building, legs tangled as you lay on a blanket.

you both look up at the sky.

so many questions slipping off your tongue. where you talk of fate and destiny and how you loved to believe that two souls so intricately intertwined like your own was probably crafted by something as beautiful as the stars, or another celestial being that just knew what the future held. speckles of fine stardust crafted and moulded, so, when you found a mortal body there would be no doubt he was the one for you, just as you were the one for him.

he likes sending you photos of cats. adopting the habit of carrying a small bag of treats around with him; though neither of you have a pet.

he remembers the frown that would tug on your face each time you’d come across a stray. and he’d stand there for as long as you like as your fingers pet over fluffy heads and behind furry ears. another silent vow of love to a lonely creature.

you liked to pack him lunches, hours spent in the kitchen of a nighttime experimenting, because you never wanted him to have a dull meal. and he’d sit there at the table, reading as a piano piece plays over your phone. not a word spoken between the both of you, and some nights you scuttle his way with a fork-full of something for him to try.

there was love in the tv shows you watched together, the music you shared, the space you both lived in. the closet was a muddle of clothes and accessories that he liked to steal from you just like you steal from him. racks of both your shoes line the entry way of the apartment, collection of mugs a sudden birthday tradition that will go on for as long as you’re alive.

you lived in his mind like you lived in the plants around the house. or the posters you’d put on the walls. and he lived in your mind with gaming consoles and photos of you hung up that he had taken, loved and forever cherished; thriving in the memory of you and how much he loved you then and how much he loves you now.

jungkook had tried to find a better word.

hours spent laying in bed, with your head on his chest, moon spilling into the room as he mulls over the thought of you.

how he likes how warm you are, how he likes sharing this space with you. that he’s glad he’s found you, grateful that you exist within the same time line as him.

your silly little stories of a wonderful sweet sort of love filling his own mind— because maybe you really were crafted for one another. and even if he forgets three simple words, the both of you know love lives within the sphere of your existence.

because maybe that’s what the both of you are when you’re together. maybe even in those moments you’re apart. perhaps you’re the epitome of the word love and that’s why all the silent ‘i love yous’ equal more than words ever will

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts non idol au

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robynlilyblack · 1 year

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Always little wolf

Fred Weasley x wolfstars daughter! reader

Summary: While y/n and Fred walk home in the snow, the simplest conversation makes Fred sure of one thing, he's going to marry that girl

Warnings: established relationship, kinda luna lovegood type reader, reader loves random facts, kissing, so much fluff, one proofread

A/n: 0.7k words, day 4 we have another fluffy little blurb with freddie and wolfstars adopted daughter, enjoy xx

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Did you know…”

Fred’s already chuckling, the sight of you trying to get on your big fluffy coat whilst tipsy was cute enough, but combine it with an excited random fact? You have his heart melting like crazy. He was used to your random trivia but never grew tired of it, he loved it in fact, especially as it hardly ever related to anything you were doing.

Like when he first met you, you had tagged along with Harry and his dad, your godfather, James, to the quidditch world cup, instead of a 'did you know this about quidditch fact' whilst you walked up the stands with him him, he got a 'did you know otters hold hands while sleeping so they don’t float away from one another?'

It was safe to say he had been at your mercy ever since

"...that...one second...that s-"

“Here…” he gently interrupts your fact before you can start, helping you get your hand through the sleeve “...good girl” he pecks your forehead, adoring the the grin he receives as you cheese up at him, eyes glassy, clearly only half here but the love in your eyes shines through

After one last shout goodbye to those at the party you and Fred brave the cold, his hand finding yours before guiding into his larger pocket to keep it warm

“It’s snowing” you note, free hand coming to wrap around his bicep, as your cheek presses into it

“It is...almost as pretty as you my love” he flirts, adoring your giggle before you let out a little yip, head shooting up to look at him as you move away slightly to smile up at him “What?”

“I forgot to tell you the fact” you say softly and his heart warms, secretly glad you remembered

“Hit me” he flashes you a goofy grin, unable to hold it back as he wraps his arm around you and leads you down the now snow dusted path

“Did you know that Scotland's national animal is a unicorn because there was this wizard whose pet unicorn followed him into a muggle battle?” you say, a little slurred and in a higher pitched tone, the same one you always used when saying your little facts

Fred chuckles, pulling you a little closer into his side “Seriously?”

“Siriusly” you start giggling

“See this is the stuff Binns should have taught us…” Fred shakes his head “...actually you know what lovely? You should try and poach his job” he presses a kiss to your hat clad temple

“Nah” you shake your head

“Why not? You love facts, adorable at telling them, cute as a button so all the guys and gals will crush on you, be closer to your dads and uncle” he lists with a shrug, genuinely surprised you wouldn’t be interested

You stop walking, gently removing yourself from Fred's grip and taking his hands in yours instead. His eyebrows pinch but his face soon softens into a smile as he sees you shining up at him

“Because then I wouldn’t see my favourite person everyday...” you answer simply, easily, almost like it should have been obvious but the next bit floors him "...and when I find out a new fact I can't tell anyone else until i've told you, I always tell you first"

He always felt it in his heart that he was going to marry you one day, but this was the moment he knew for sure...so much that in less than a weeks time you would be saying that three letter word to make it a reality

“Merlin I love you...” the words tumble out breathlessly in the same manor as yours "...so much...so...so much" he emphasises squeezing your hands

Your smile widens at that, a giggle escaping as you step forward, chests grazing “Ditto” you shine, placing a sweet kiss to his nose

He doesn’t let you pull away fully, instead dips down to capture your lips, hands slipping out of yours to cup your chilled cheeks while the snow lightens around you for a moment, large flakes fluttering down slowly like you were in some movie. The cold forgotten for a moment as your warm lips dance with one another, your hands gliding up to find his chest, not caring that it made your fingertips go numb

Your lips still ghost the others as you break away, your cheeks rising with your smile in his light grip as you whisper “Did you know if you remind yourself you aren’t a fish your hiccups will stop?”

“You're pulling my leg” he whispers back

“Wanna bet Weasley?” you say letting your lips meet again tentatively

“With you? Always little wolf”

Thank you for reading ♡

#fred weasley and reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley and y/n #fred weasley and you #fred weasley #fred and reader #fred x reader #fred x you #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley blurb #wolfstar daughter #wolfstar x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #robbiesadventcalendar

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explorevenus · 1 year

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something permanent ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors pls dni i will scream

this is a dark fic for a multitude of reasons. if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, noncon, forced breeding, body horror, gore, & blood

in other words-- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.

ahem. now that that’s over.

word count - 4.4k

description - nothing in leon’s life was ever permanent and his life circumstances made sure of that. over the years he was beaten down from a bright-eyed rookie police officer to a weary and angry shell of his former self. when a chance meeting brought you into his life, he knew what he had to do. he knew you had to be something permanent.

tags/warnings - yandere!leon, dark!leon, leon being patronizing and condescending and sickly sweet, fem/afab!reader, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, puppy, etc.), noncon, forced breeding, housewife kink, body horror (spoiler alert he rips your IUD out with his bare hands), slight gore, blood, noncon, stockholm syndrome if u squint, dollification if u squint, descriptions of vomiting, no use of (Y/N)

a/n - ok i genuinely don’t know if anyone even wants this but i personally find it egregious how little yandere!leon content exists out there in this world because listen. i know a lot of people consider leon submissive and breedable but personally i believe this broken angry man just wants a sweet little thing to dote on and take care of to make him forget about the horrors of his life and he will stop at nothing to make that happen ♡ anyways. enjoy. and if it’s not ur cup of tea idc keep scrolling :^)

p.s. this is obviously a very canon-deviant, borderline crack fic so it’s not really established which leon this is outside of referring to the events of re2 being a long time ago, so go wild with your interpretation of that to read this as whichever leon is ur favorite ♡ i personally like to imagine post-re4 or infinite darkness leon !! ;w;

read part 2 here !! ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡

-venus ♡

You were slow to wake, which wasn't particularly unusual... as of late, but your body felt so heavy, like your muscles had dissolved into mush overnight. Consciousness gradually took its hold of you, and as it did, you began to realize that something seemed off. Different. Wrong, even. You peeked your eyes open, vision blurry with sleep, but you could see you were beneath your pink comforter, a plush of yours held closely to your chest, all normal so far...

But your walls aren't navy blue, they're white... They're supposed to be white--

You jolted wide awake, panic coursing through your weak body as you struggled to even sit up. That's when you noticed an unfamiliar, muscular arm draped over your waist, and that dialed up your anxiety about tenfold. It was hard to move, but you were able to turn your head enough to catch a look at the man it belonged to.

Strong, blond, maybe a bit tired in the eyes... maybe a bit familiar looking... but you were crying now, blurring your sight all over again.

"Shh, shh... you're okay, sweetheart, you're safe now," He hushed, holding you closely to him as you struggled. Smooching the top of your head, he spoke into your messy hair, "I've got you. I've got you, princess."

But... how? The last thing you remembered was tucking into your own bed, in your own apartment, and falling asleep there, how could you have possibly wound up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of ever leaving yours? Your head spun as you tried and failed to fend off the unwanted affection with weak arms. His hold on you didn't dare budge as he continued to coo softly into your ear, to reassure you that you were safe, that he wouldn't let anyone, or anything, hurt you.

The anxiety stewing within you finally reached a tipping point, twisting your stomach into tight knots, and that's when you spoke your first words since you'd awoken. "I-I'm gonna throw up," You wept, clawing weakly at the covers and, well, at him, for freedom.

Thankfully he was quick to act, scooping you into his arms as he sat up and rose from the bed, carrying you to the adjoined bathroom. When he turned the light on, you managed to get a better look at his face as you passed by the mirror, and it took you a second to recognize him, partly due to your state of delirium, but primarily because you only knew him very vaguely. You had only met him once at work many months ago, when he'd sparked up a conversation with you as you made him his coffee. After that, he became a regular at the café you worked at-- you remembered his name was Leon.

So why were you waking up in his bed, with your belongings lying around like you'd lived here the whole time?

Your knees hit the tile and you began retching immediately, flinching as he reached forward to collect your hair away from your face. Puking on an empty stomach is never a fun time, but your nerves were alight with panic and every time you reminded yourself of your predicament, a new wave of nausea would crash over you. He rubbed your back sweetly, but it didn't help.

Once the vomiting eventually subsided, an awful, hollow pain took place of it. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles per hour. You didn't have the time to acknowledge it, let alone nurse it, outside of clutching your shirt at the waist.

"Let me get you some water, babe," Leon said as he hesitantly stood from your side, eyeing you worriedly like you'd just fall to pieces if he let you out of his sight. "You poor thing..."

But all you could think about was getting out of here. "N-No, no, what time is it? I have to get to work--"

"I don't think so, sweetheart," He interrupted. "You're sick, you should be in bed."

"I'm fine," Much to the protest of your jellied legs, you pushed yourself up from the floor and fought through the head rush in an attempt to slip past him, but he simply caught you at the waist and brought you to a halt. Your ears were ringing, the room spinning around you, and you still weren't sure how to interpret what was even going on here. "L-Let go of me!" You cried out.

He simply hushed you, holding you tightly to his chest and petting your hair as you writhed, failing miserably to get him off of you. "Don't worry about work, okay? Just rest up and get better. I'll call them for you."

Your stomach sank even further-- what the fuck is happening right now?

Despite your thrashing he managed to lead you back to the bed as gently as one would fine china, scooping you up into his arms so he could lay you down exactly where you'd awoken earlier. Your chest heaved with sobs as you shrank into yourself in an effort to get away from him.

His eyes left you for just a moment as he reached for the covers, no doubt to tuck you in-- in a split second decision, you seized that time to scramble out of his bed and break for the door. Sadly, as perhaps you should have seen coming, he was more than strong and fast enough to catch up to you, even caught off guard. As soon as your shaking hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he halted you where you stood with a bruising grip on your bicep.

You cried out, trying in vain to peel yourself away from him, but it was no use.

"Come on, silly baby, you heard me," He tsked, dragging you back toward the bed. "No need to be running off anywhere, especially on a sour stomach."

"P-Please--" You gasped through tears.

"I'm sorry, little one, but that's final," Leon hummed with a patronizing but oddly sweet tone. It was as if he were scolding a temperamental child.

He basically wrestled you back into the bed, enveloping you tightly in his arms as he laid down beside you. You struggled against his grasp, but again, it was absolutely no use. He simply pet your hair and pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw, attempting to soothe you with restraint and unwanted affection.

You sucked in a labored breath, hiccupping, "Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me... I-I just wa-wanna go home, jus' wanna go h-home... Leon please--"

"Shh... oh, good heavens. You are home, princess," He mused, brushing away a stream of your hot tears with his thumb. "You'll see. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Nothing in Leon's life was ever permanent.

All he'd ever wanted was the American dream, to serve his community and meet a pretty girl to share his life with, to settle down in a big house with a fenced yard and two or three little Kennedys running around, maybe a dog. What he wouldn't give to come home at the end of a long day to his beautiful wife, belly swollen with his children, preparing dinner in the kitchen while the existing little ones play with their toys in the other room.

He would enter, slipping off his shoes with a relaxed sigh and a "Honey, I'm home!" to which the aforementioned little ones would rush to the door to hug him at his knees. He'd put one up on his shoulders while the other tugged at his hand, turning into the kitchen to give his beautiful wife a kiss. She would ask of his day and he would say it was good, but better now that he's home with her. With his free hand he would cradle her belly and ask "What's for dinner, you two?" to which she would reply "Your favorite," and as he smiled and thanked her with a kiss he would be silently plotting to thank her properly after the kids are asleep by fucking her full of his cum.

That was all he'd ever wanted. But, day after day after god forsaken day, the chance grew slimmer and slimmer until it had shriveled into something molecular. He didn't even get through his first day at the police station before everything went to shit.

Because of this, Leon began to lose himself over the years. He was no longer the bright-eyed rookie officer looking forward to his even brighter future. He was a broken man, worn down to the bone by years of death, plague, losing everyone he'd ever loved in one way or another-- Leon couldn't take the loss anymore. He wanted-- no, needed-- something permanent, something to give him even the slightest taste of that dream he once had.

When he met you, it wasn't even a question anymore. He knew you were the one. One way or another, he would have you.

He couldn't court you in the traditional way, of course-- it was too dangerous for you to be seen with him. After all, everything he'd ever touched had a way of turning to shit. So, it began with following you home after work so he'd know where you lived. Soon after that he would let himself in when you weren't home-- you weren't smart enough not to keep your key under the mat, furthering how sure he felt that you needed him to take care of you-- he would take little things of yours home with him just to have your scent around.

At first it was just little things like near-empty bottles of shampoo and stray pairs of panties from your laundry basket. Then it was sweaters from your closet, chewed gum and used flossers from your trash can. He'd pay close attention to your grocery lists and what you kept in your pantry so he'd know what kind of food you liked.

When you did come home, he would sneak out quietly and watch you through your windows, familiarizing himself with your routine. The first thing you'd do when you came home from a long day of work was kick off your heels and change into something comfortable to do your yoga. After a while, you'd pull yourself up from the pink mat and cook dinner. After you'd eat, you'd relax with a book or a video game for a bit before taking a shower and changing into pajamas. Then, you'd brew yourself a mug of tea and retire to the bedroom for the evening where you'd watch documentaries or put on white noise until you eventually fell asleep.

At 7:00 a.m., you'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again.

All he could think about was what he'd do when he finally had you all to himself. Under his roof, you would never have to work another day in your life. Gone would be the days of pouring coffee and baking pastries for random idiots who treated you like shit. All you would ever have to worry about is being pampered, having your entire day to yourself, waiting for him to come home, spending all the money on his credit cards.

And carrying his children, of course.

So, as he held you tightly in his arms while you sobbed and begged to go back to that tiny apartment, all he could think about now was how to fix this. How to convince you he really loved you, how to make you feel truly at home.

The first few weeks were hard for him. Really, really hard.

You were refusing to eat, laying wide awake at night, swinging rapidly between sobbing, screaming and complete apathy. Sometimes he would come into the bedroom and catch you fiddling with the window, or attempting to circumvent the lock on the door by stuffing the mechanism with tissue. You would hit him, kick at him and spit in his face, even as you grew weaker and weaker with malnourishment, not that you really stood a chance before that anyway.

Still, it was hard to watch you shrink in your clothes. It was hard to see your cheeks hollowing by the day. It was hard to hold back your brittle hair while you'd vomit from the nerves, still trying to fight him off of you. It was hard to watch your body tense every time he entered the room.

Just when he'd began to lose hope, he discovered a neat little tool to help you behave. In some countries it was called "devil's breath." The slightest bit of powder could be sprinkled into your water, or over your food, or even into your clothes-- it absorbs through the skin-- and within minutes it would render you quite pliable. Leon didn't want to drug you, of course-- he liked you better when you were lucid-- but it certainly felt like a good place to start, a helpful tool to train you.

When he'd give you a dose, you would let him coddle you without incident. You would lay limp on his chest while he played with your hair and felt your soft skin beneath your shirt. You would allow him to spoon food or tip water into your mouth. You would let him dress you up like his perfect little dolly. You would blush and whimper and whine, and more importantly, not fight him, while he fucked you full of his cum, just like his dream.

There was just one problem-- after about two months of trying daily, it would seem his seed wasn't taking.

Your heart pounded in your ears as the sound of Leon's footsteps nearing the bedroom door grew louder. You glanced over at the clock-- it was 6:15. He was off work for the evening and you knew what that meant.

The lock clicked quietly before the door creaked open, revealing your captor.

"Honey, I'm home!" He smiled excitedly, approaching the bed with a glass of water in hand.

You knew it was for you. You knew he had done something to it. You also knew you didn't intend to drink it.

"W-Welcome home, daddy," You said in a near whisper, forcing a half-smile. While you had definitely lost the majority of the fight in you, that didn't mean it didn't nauseate you to comply with his wishes. "Did you have a good day?"

Tucking your hair behind your ear, he offered you the glass of water while he replied as he always did, "My day was fine, but it's so much better now that I'm home with you, princess."

You smiled at him like it was the first time he'd ever said it, taking the glass with a shaking hand. You stared at it for a moment before mustering up the courage to say, "D-Daddy, I don't want the medicine anymore. I don't think I need it, and it doesn't make me feel good."

"You don't want your medicine anymore, baby?" He asked, tipping your chin up to look at him. You shook your head, rounding your eyes to convince him that much more. "Well, alright, but you have to promise to behave for me."

Now you were nodding, a little bit too eagerly. It was sort of humiliating. "I promise, daddy, I'll behave! I don't want the medicine anymore. I promise I'll be good."

With a proud grin he took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's what I like to hear, babydoll. You know, good little girls get rewarded..." His large hand spread over your thigh, inching up toward the hem of your baggy shirt.

You stiffened, but didn't push him away. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss at your neck, large hand sliding up your shirt until he nudged it up enough to pull it off. You were bare for him now, save for panties, and given your experience with him you knew it wouldn't be long until those were discarded somewhere across the room. With a gentle hand at your shoulder he pushed you onto your back, your legs hanging off the side of the bed, and you were curious where he was going with that until he sank to his knees in front of you and began pulling your panties down.

Your eyes screwed shut, thankful that he couldn't see your face as he spread your thighs and greeted your cunt with a slow lick up the length of you. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles, pretty much holding your breath to keep yourself from kicking him away from you. His fingertips buried into the plush skin of your thighs to hold you apart as he began to eat you out more passionately, suckling your clit up into his mouth and lapping at your hole like he was starving.

If there was one thing you would give him credit for, it would be his skilled tongue. Perhaps he was crazy and obsessed, but he certainly knew how to translate that obsession into something that benefitted you both. You wouldn't have succumbed to it so willingly if he weren't at least good at it.

Still, it was hard to feel any enthusiasm. His attention might have felt good physically, but it certainly didn't feel good mentally.

You flinched when you felt a fingertip prodding at your cunt. He pulled away just far enough to tsk, "Relax and let me make you feel good, puppy. You said you would behave for me."

"Y-Yes, daddy," You muttered, continuing to clutch the sheets as you tried to control your breathing.

His thick index finger sank into you down to the knuckle, almost immediately curling up to brush against the spongy spot within you that made you see stars. As much as you tried to fight it you gasped, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, but the sound you'd made hadn't slipped past Leon. You felt him smirk against your skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to your thigh, reaching up with his free hand to force yours away from your face.

"Don't be shy, princess," He spoke against the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses up to your clit. "I want to hear just how good it feels."

You whimpered, hips squirming into his affection, and he chuckled approvingly, bringing his mouth back to you fully to continue eating you out while he fucked his finger into you. Soon after his index finger was joined by his middle, and you keened as he reached more deeply into you than he possibly ever had.

He pumped his fingers in and out for a moment, alternating between lapping at your cunt and kissing your thighs, and just as the coil inside began to tighten he suddenly... stopped?

You waited for a second, catching your breath, expecting him to continue any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he took on a tone that froze your blood as he asked, "Sweetheart, what is this?"

Then, you felt a sharp tug at your insides that made you yelp.

"Leon!" You shouted at him in a break of character, attempting to scoot away from him, but he grabbed your hips to still you. "That hurt!"

Another tug. You cried out, trying as you might to snap your thighs shut and push him away, but he wasn't budging.

"You never told me you had an IUD."

"Well, I do, so stop yanking on it! It hurts--"

The next words out of his mouth truly fucking broke you.

"That just won't do. It's no wonder you're not pregnant yet."

You sat up immediately. "Pregnant?"

He ignored you, tugging at it again. You screamed.

"L-Leon, don't! I can get it taken out by a doctor, I swear, I'll get it taken out!"

He shook his head. "And wait even longer to knock you up, pretty girl? Not happening. It's coming out now."

You screamed again, thrashing in his hold. He withdrew from inside you for just a moment, pinning you to the bed by your hip while he reached for your panties on the floor and shoved them into your mouth to silence you.

"There, there, angel. It'll be over before you know it, like ripping off a band-aid," He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you screeched through the cotton. "I'm gonna give you my babies, I promise. Gonna make you a mommy, and we’ll be so happy."

Before you could properly react he forced his fingers back inside you, yanking at the device until you felt a sickening tear and the unmistakable heat of blood rushing out of you. You curled into yourself, wailing, gasping for breath through the panties in your mouth as he withdrew his blood-soaked fingers, holding up the gory IUD in the light.

"There you are, princess. All better," He smiled contently, discarding the device on the bedside table. "You did so good. You were so brave for me."

You were bawling, shrieking through your gag as your vision blurred into white. Leon kissed up your thighs before standing to unbuckle his belt, and he didn't get much further than that before the panic and agonizing pain got to you and you lost consciousness.

You woke up the next morning with your thighs sore and sticky with blood. You lifted the comforter to see a deep red pool seeping out from between your legs, and the more you started to wake up, the more aware you became of the pain. You were cramping terribly, sweating buckets, your ears were ringing and you felt weak. Leon had left for work already, so it was up to you to get yourself to the bathroom.

Your entire body was trembling as you stumbled out of the bed, dripping blood in a trail behind you as you dragged yourself to the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub. You peeled off your pajama shorts and panties, watching in horror as a mixture of thick blood and cum spilled out of you and ran slowly toward the drain. Once again, you began to cry. Obviously he'd had his way with you after you passed out, buckets of blood be damned.

Even with your foggy, staticky brain, you couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about the fact that he had no intention of taking you to a hospital, so there was really no telling what might happen with your profusely painful and bleeding sex. Thinking about how fucking screwed you were now without your IUD, your best defense against falling pregnant with your captor's child. Thinking about the fact that if he wouldn't even take you to a doctor for this, he must be expecting a home birth if you were to become pregnant, which you doubted he was qualified to handle and therefore had a very good chance to result in your slow, painful death.

You couldn't stand the shivering anymore, so you filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt nice, though it was rather gross that the water was stained a glassy rose color with your own blood, not that you really had the strength to care in the moment.

In fact, you didn't have much strength at all. It wasn't long before you found yourself losing consciousness once again.

"Fuck, princess, can you hear me?"

You were trying to open your eyes, to twitch a finger, anything, but it was so hard.

"Shit. Stay right here, babydoll, I'm gonna get you some help, okay? I promise. I never meant to hurt you... shit...”

You heard some shuffling, pacing and possibly Leon talking to himself in the other room. You figured he was trying to decide whether or not to take you to a hospital. Part of you hoped he would and the other part of you hoped he would just let you die there. More than anything, you just wished you would have let him drug you in the first place so maybe you wouldn't be in this level of pain.

After what could have very well been 20 seconds or 20 minutes, Leon kneeled beside the tub and draped a cold washcloth over your forehead, reaching into the bloodied water to pull the drain. With what little control you had over your own movement you managed to crack your eyes open, which seemed to please him.

"Oh thank god... thank god, baby. I almost thought I lost you there," He huffed, voice shaking. "Listen to me closely, princess. Stay with me. I'm going to take you to a doctor but you have to be a good girl, okay? You have to be good for me and go along with what I say, even if it isn't true. I'm just doing what's best for you so you can get all better, okay?"

You nodded weakly. You weren't in any position to put up a fight, and all you really wanted was an end to the pain. Besides, he couldn't supervise you constantly at the hospital. There had to be at least some opportunity to tell someone what he'd done to you.

He somehow managed to dress you in some comfortable clothes of his, a soft black t-shirt that hung halfway down your thighs and a pair of black shorts with some little socks of yours to protect your feet. Then, he carried you princess-style out to the car where he bundled you up in the passenger seat and buckled you in.

As he pulled hurriedly out of the driveway, he made a phone call to someone.

"Hey, it's me... I need the best people we have in the infirmary, stat. I'm on my way now," He spoke sternly into the phone, white knuckling the wheel. "I'm fine, it's not for me, it's my girlfriend. It's a long story that I'll tell you when I get there, but she's bleeding pretty bad. I found her unconscious when I came home... I appreciate it, thanks. See you in 10."

Leon reached over the center console to squeeze your thigh in reassurance.

"You're gonna be just fine, princess. I'm gonna make sure they make you all better, okay?"

Your stomach sank. He obviously wasn't taking you to a hospital. From the sounds of it he was taking you somewhere he had a good amount of leverage, somewhere everyone knew him, held him in high regard and wouldn't dare challenge his word, let alone take yours over his. You slumped to the side, resting your head on the cool window with a quiet bonk. Leon was quick to ask if you were okay but you couldn't muster up a response. Your ears began ringing again and the world around you collapsed into tunnel vision.

part 2 !!

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy x reader #dead dove do not eat #something permanent

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water-to-drink · 7 months

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Drinking Water

(Pairing): Neuvilette x gn!reader

(Synopsis): You can’t taste the difference between water from different sources much to Neuvilette’s irritation

(Tags/Warnings): reader messes with Neuvi (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 400

(A/n): Based off of a conversation I had with my mom and the irony isn’t lost on me, a blog called “water to drink” making a mini fic about drinking water

Art by: Sophie Sachs

“It just taste the same, Neuvi.” You said as you put the glass down on the table next to the other glass cups filled with water

“Perhaps you’re not focusing on the taste.” Neuvilette argued

“You said that when I tried the 4th sample.”

“I’m trying to understand, how you don’t notice at least the at least a slight difference between them.”

“I don’t know, it’s just water.” You said as you looked at the man making you do this

The two of you have been doing this for a couple of hours, the sun has already begun to set and you two are still at this. This situation had been spurred on when Neuvilette caught you about to drink water from the tap. He immediately became a lecture on how tap water has many additives that effect the taste and quality of the water, which you told the Chief Justice you really don’t care as long as it doesn’t taste weird or look heavily contaminated

Apparently this response didn’t pleased him, so he went and got all of the samples of water he had in wherever the world he keeps them and made you sit down and drink them. Water from Mondstadt’s Cider Lake, Liyue’s Qingxu Pool, and a bunch of other places you can’t be bothered to remember the name

You can taste the slight difference, but you decided to mess with him for a bit. Saying that all of the samples taste the same to see the usually composed man slowly become frustrated with you not noticing any differences. It’s just water

You reach over and grab the cup filled with tap water, you can tell it apart from the others because it’s the only one that isn’t in one of the fancy glass cups that Neuvilette always insists on drinking from whenever he drinks his precious water. You watched as the man in front of you grimaced as you drank the “unclean water”, a devious plan hatched in your head on what to do next

“Actually my tap water tastes better than that water.”

“I… I…” The muttered before standing up from his chair. “I need a moment.” Neuvilette walks into his study and closes the door behind him. After a few minutes rain starts coming down hard

You get up from your seat and make your way to his study to apologize

#genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette x gn reader #neuvillette x male reader #neuvilette x female reader

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hidden-snow · 2 months

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❣┈⋆ ⋞ 〈Ｐｅｅｋａｂｏｏ，ＩＳｅｅＹｏｕ〉 ⋟ ┈⋆❣

(For everyone tagged to this pic: This isn't a bot or accident. It's me, Hidden Snow. I got a new account. ^^)

Characters:// Adult! Neteyam x Adult! female Na'vi Reader

Warnings // P in V, dirty words

Word count // 1,908

“Peekaboo, I see you.”

You couldn’t help but giggle softly as Neteyam swooped in, pressing a soft peck to your lips, a gentle smirk on his face.

“Oh, my mighty warrior,” you hum softly, allowing the male to pull you into his broad arms, caging you in his embrace. Pressed against his warm chest, you can’t help but draw in his scent, rich with the forest despite years of living at the reef. No amount of salt water and marine life could seem to wash away the scent embedded deep in his very being.

“You always seem to catch me.”

“How would I not? You pick the easiest places to hide.”

It was true. You did pick the easiest places, knowing that he would come upon you in a matter of moments. They were private places, hidden enough so that you could steal a quick kiss here and there from your future mate.

“One more round?” you can’t help but ask, batting your eyes at him and he chuckled softly, pushing you back so that your skin brushed against the tree.

“And if I catch you, what do I get?”

“Catch me and find out!”

You dash off, finding the perfect hiding spot for him to come and find you. Secluded in an area of the beach that not many people wander, it’s a small clearing with plenty of shrubbery to hide in. You don’t care about hiding, though. Not anymore. You just want Neteyam to find you. And find you, he did.

“Found you again.”

You squeak as hands snake around your waist, pulling you against his chest, and he ghosts his lips against yours, smiling at the way you instinctively move closer to deepen the hint into an actual kiss.

“Slow down, y/n. We have all the time in the world.”

“I don’t want all the time in the world,” you whisper as you brush your lips against his once more. “I want you. I want you now.”

His face softened, a smile pulling at his lips, and you can’t help but be reminded of the first time you saw Neteyam, standing beside Lo’ak and behind his father as the Sullys arrived at your village. The way he mimicked his father’s stance, arms raised in a sign of peaceful intentions, as well as how innocent he had been, sweet and gentle, with a backbone made of loyalty to his family.

“I don’t want to waste anymore time, Neteyam,” you murmur, your fingers grazing the scarred pattern on his chest, gained from a bullet wound that had occured when the sky people had come to hunt the tulkun.

You could still remember that day like it was yesterday, gripping his hand tightly and crying softly as his father pressed cloth to his chest to keep him from losing blood. That had been the day that you were both destined to fall in love. As you gripped his hand, you couldn’t help but spill out your feelings to this boy. Just in case. And his large golden gaze had locked with your blue eyes, and, despite the pain that he was suffering from, he had smiled a soft smile, all while promising that once they were home, he would take his time getting to know you better. He promised he would take his time falling in love with everything about you and with you. So that he could always cherish what he had gained from the Metkayina.

His little treasure.

You were impatient. You’d always been impatient, unable to sit still for even the most simplest of tasks, and waiting on him to make the first move was torture. Especially now, when you knew just how dangerous it was to wait for something as special as this.

His hand gently cupped your own still resting on his chest, navy skin against teal, and you look back up at him.

“I know, y/n. I know,” he murmured softly, cupping your cheek with his free hand, his thumb gently brushing against your lips. You kiss his thumb and he smiles again.

“Come here.”

With that one order, he’s sweeping you up into his arms, kissing you gently, but you want more. You want him. You only had eyes for him.

You deepen the kiss, running your hands up and down his back as he picked you up, swinging your legs over his hips so that they could clasp behind him.

Something rough scrapes against your back but you pay it no attention, too focused on Neteyam, too focused on kissing him until your lips were bruised and puffy. That was your favorite part of your little make-out sessions, walking back to the village hand-in-hand with hickies littering your skin and lips red from being ensnared in his abusive attention.

His hand slid down your back to land on your ass, gripping the plush of your cheeks, squeezing and kneading them with his fingers.

You can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips when his thumb ventures further down to press against your tewng, rolling your clit with the pad of his finger, the thin layer of cloth between your bare body and his fingers causing a beautiful friction.

You moan softly against his lips as he grinds his hips forward, his cock straining against the fabric of his own tewng, the covered tip brushing against the growing wet patch below your pussy.

Soft gasps and mewls tumble from your lips with each movement of his hips, and you push your lips back against his, hard, teeth scraping against teeth as the kiss grows rather heated, passionate, and hungry.

You don’t know when he discarded his tewng, nor even how he’d gotten yours off. The feeling of his head brushing against your soaked folds has you whining, falling apart with the desire to have him filling you to the brim with himself.

He chuckles softly as he continues to grind his hips against yours, soft grunts being pulled out as he moved.

“What would your parents say, my love? What would the people say if they saw you like this?” he whispered as he nipped at your ear, drawing a soft moan from your puffy lips. His words send shivers of anticipation up your spine, the idea of being caught giving you a thrill you hadn’t known was possible.

Years ago, you would’ve blushed at the idea.

Now though?

Neteyam has taught you many things and one of your more favorite of the lessons was that living on the dangerous side of things could sometimes be quite exciting.

His tip teases your entrance, a promise of something that you want desperately, and his movements cease as he looks straight into your eyes, half-lidded with desire.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl. Let me know what you want. Use your words.”

“You,” you whine out, pushing your hips down to try and get that feeling of satisfaction that you so desperately crave.

“I want you, ma ‘teyam.”

He nodded, satisfied, before pushing in slowly, watching your face as you struggle to take him on. It wasn’t that you were too small or he was too big. It was more or less the fact that you had never been breached before, saving yourself for him and only him.

His movements are gentle and slow, making sure that you’re adjusting to his size before he pushes in any further. You can tell he’s struggling, from the sharp hitches in his breath as he slowly sinks into you, as well as the strangled groans, hiding the fact that he was straining hard against his urges just to keep himself under control.

As you take him fully inside of you, you can’t help but moan, the stretch satisfying within you, the feeling of his tip brushing lightly against your g-spot and kissing your cervix as he stood there, waiting.

After a couple seconds, you look up and nod. It’s small and hesitant. But it’s there and he sees it.

He pulls out, leaving only the tip inside of your hole, before he snaps his hips forward, sinking deep within you, drawing out soft sounds of pleasure from your lips. His pace is slow at first, careful not to hurt you, but as you grow used to the stretch inside, he begins to thrust quickly, ramming into your g-spot repeatedly and with such precision that you wonder if he’d ever done this for someone else before. Almost as soon as the thought pops in your head, his rhythm pushes it away.

No, of course he hadn’t. He’d only had eyes for you since that fateful night.

You gasp softly as he lays you down in the grass to change positions, able to push himself even deeper inside of you, to the point you begin to wonder if you have any space left inside for him to reach. The pads of his fingers graze your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, and you can’t help but lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you, your breath shared with him as his lips hovered just above you.

You can feel the approaching climax, can feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge by each perfectly-angled snap of his hips, and the noises you make become sloppier, even more lewd, and he smirks at the flushed appearance of your face, your jaw dropped open and eyes lidded with lust.

“I wonder what your parents would say, y/n. What would they say if they knew you could make such a face as this.”

If you’d been more coherent, you’d blush. But you weren’t. So instead, you just moan at his words, your silky walls tightening around his girth. He groaned softly, cussing at the feeling that almost nearly pushed him over the edge as well. His fingers remove themselves from your nipples, sliding down to your clit to play with it again, and you let out a sharp exhalation, your knees tightening against his waist.

“Oh yeah. Bet that feels good.”

He can tell you’re getting so close just by the way your inner walls seemed to flutter and contract around him, and he leans down to whisper dirty words in your ears, testing to see what you did and didn’t like.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

His words, along with his gentle touches and the slamming of his tip against your g-spot, make you gasp, your back arching as that warm coil within your lower belly snaps, tightened to the point that it’d been painful to deny the release. He keeps pounding into you, even as you slump down, still stuck in your high. He’s chasing his own release, movements erratic and sharp, and he’s getting close.

With the powerful fluttering of your walls, clamping down around him, he’s being provided a satisfying friction that helps him quickly hit his own orgasm, filling you up with his sperm. Panting softly, he pulls out of you, a wet “pop” that spoke of just how full and wet you were. He lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms, your tails intwined as you purr softly.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers to you, running his fingers up and down your ribs. “Such a good girl for me. You know something?”

You hum questioningly.

“I’m starting to really like this little game of hide and seek that you’ve made.”

Taglist// @aconstructofamind / @kaistarzs-blog / @truebluehue / @sussybaka10 / @taleiak / @justsomerandompersonintheworld

#avatar the way of water #avatar #neteyam #neteyam sully #atwow neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam smut #avatar fandom #avatar fics #neteyam fic

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saekkas · 7 months

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𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐓

summary: the day gojo satoru came home, everything changed– the day the strongest returned scarred, something shifted.

it’s warm. the chilly, almost numbing, weather from winter has thawed– leaving behind patches of ashen snow. the birds chirp outside of your apartment window, calling out to each other as they huddle for warmth.

you watch, enraptured, as a mother bird guards its fledgelings– it preens their wings, maintains its nest by scourging for branches and thickets alike, spreads its wings for when a threat comes near.

it’s almost endearing, how human and animal nature mirror each other so well.

“you okay?” the touch of your hand is feather light, leaving no trace as they trail down satoru’s back. your lover’s quiet– almost uncharacteristically so as he lets you tend to the scars that now litter down his back and throughout his body.

“i’m good,” satoru hums, his eyes plastered on the mugs that are nestled on your nightstand. on some days, when the memories haunt him more than they should, he refuses to speak altogether– lips pressed tight against each other, shoulders slumped as he cradles himself on the bed.

it’s warm, he once told you, eyes so vacant and empty. devoid of the usual bright blue spark they carry. i like it when it’s warm.

“does it hurt?” you know it doesn’t– know that after what he’s been through, everything’s just another shade of numb. and yet, the tiny whisper in your mind wonders if he truly understands what you’re asking. “you can tell me, y’know? that’s the only way i can help.”

“they’re healed. nothing hurts. not one bit.” satoru grins, showing off his boyish, almost childlike happiness that contrasts the way his eyes are dimmed, hair a mess atop his head.

because that’s who satoru is– who he’s supposed to be. the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, a burden so heavy it dilutes, erases one’s sense of self because if he isn’t the strongest, what else is there to be?

for a fraction of the moment, you let him comfort you– chuckle like everything is the way it was. you miss the sound of his voice, the annoying cackle he lets out just before laughing– most of all, you miss him. the satoru that isn’t a shell of the person he used to be.

your hands glide down the expanse of his back while your eyes roam his face– you take in every individual wound, each a reminder of what he fought for and lost. you wonder what looks back at him when he stares in the mirror.

“i know that,” you mumble, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, gently thumbing his dimple. “but remember what shoko said? it’ll be better if we put some ointment on them.”

“right. right.” the roll of his eyes might have been endearing had he not stiffened at your words. “we should have my wounds healed so they look less ugly.”

the term wound sounds like such an insult for how gentle your touches are when he’s with you.

“hey,” you whisper, watching as his eyelashes flutter the moment your hand threads through his hair. “they’re not ugly, satoru. no part of you could ever be ugly.”

you don’t let him speak, shake your head when he opens his mouth to object. “they’re like stars, y’know?”

“i think you meant to say ‘like pimples,’” he snorts, sounding playful as he waves a hand to dismiss your statement, but you can see it– the hatred and anger deeply rooted in his tone. “or ugly warts.”

“they’re a constellation of stars, satoru. one that’s written on your skin.” you tilt his head upwards, watch as his pupils dilate– a sea of black drowning in blue. he shivers, spine straightening when your fingers trace his jawline. “each one so pretty like they were individually brushed on by a painter.”

you press a kiss to his lips, let him feel the expanse of your love as your hands move before they rest on his chest– you feel his heart thud against your palm, a gentle but needed reminder that even when all else fails, you still have one another. “you are my world and all my stars, satoru. the sky would be so empty without you.”

“then, i’ll consider them yours,” he whispers after a moment of reprieve, leaning his forehead against yours– he lets his façade fall, unhooks the mask he wears for the world. baring his soul wide for you to see. you soften at the tears that pool in his eyes, like diamonds glistening in a storm. “just like how i am too.”

to most people, the strongest may have fallen– but, in your eyes, he’s still your saving grace.

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

Text

Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.”

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks.

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #ayrton senna #Senna!reader

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frost-queen · 4 months

Text

Bodyguarded // part 3 (Reader!Grimes x Daryl Dixon)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, Tag: @strangerthingslover69, @ankhmutes, @yoowhatthefuck, @sseleniaa, @deansapplepie, @abbiesxox

Summary: After your little fall-out with Shane, you start to distance yourself. Daryl gives zero f*cks about you distancing yourself as he keeps himself aroud. During a heart to heart with Daryl, you might discover more of the underlying tone of Shane's attitude towards you. [ read part 1 & part 2 & part 4 & part 5 ]

Crickets cricked in the bushes around the fire. Rick sat by the fire with Lori and Carl. Carl was leaning against him staring at the mesmerizing flames. Lori was in deep thought. Some had joined them but mostly everyone had an agenda of their own. Daryl stood a bit further away, leaning against a tree. His gaze turned away from the fire, but rather turned towards you. You weren’t engaging with the crowd, but keeping your distance from them.

You felt humiliated. Like a spying glass had been cast upon you. Everywhere you went, a set of curious eyes followed. Trying to figure out what was going on between Shane and you. Frankly you hardly had a clue to his behaviour towards you. Perhaps you needed to dig deep. Go way back to old memories from before the fall. Before the world went to hell.

Looking over at your brother made you smile faintly. He looked so happy yet somehow you felt like an outsider. Adverting your gaze from him, you turned your posture to take your leave. Going further away from the others to find solitude. The moment you got in motion, went Daryl after you. Leaving the others for what they were to go with you.

Hearing a second pair of feet trail behind you, you exhaled deep. – “Daryl I want to be alone.” – you told him keeping your pace up. – “Fine. I’ll just keep my distance.” – he answered slowing a bit down. Looking up with a heavy sigh, you stopped. – “Daryl you don’t understand. I don’t want you here!” – you made clear having turned around to him. – “Too bad for I’m not going anywhere.” – he made clear. – “Daryl!” – you groaned out. – “What!” – he called back going in defence.

You groaned loud pressing your palms against your eyes, feeling yourself get worked up. – “Daryl please give me some space.” – you begged. – “I’ll give you space but at least let me be around.” – he asked in return. It made you furrow your brows. – “I don’t want to lose… I mean… if a walker appears…” – he spoke swallowing a lot of his words back in. – “Then what? I can shoot Daryl, remember!” – you made clear.

“I know but you…” – he exhaled loud walking up to you. – “You are not in the right headspace right now.” – he told you, touching your elbow. You turned your head bothered away. You hated how right he was. – “Just… just let me keep you save.” – he lowered his head a bit to catch your attention.

Untensing your muscles with a deep sigh, you surrendered to him. Daryl took you by the other elbow as well, pulling you closer to his body. Sensing just how much you needed it. He wrapped his arms one by one around you. Your arms remained at your side, not feeling it yet. – “Give it a few moments.” – Daryl teased half chuckling. You scrunched your nose, hating how right he was. Not a moment later you gave in, wrapping your arms around him too.

“Good girl.” – he said chuckling. You slapped him hard on the back. – “Don’t patronize me.” – you responded grumpy. Daryl removed his arms from around you, cupping your cheek as he tilted your head a bit back. – “Never.” – he whispered staring down at you. He left a quick kiss on your forehead as it didn’t feel satisfying to you.

He let go of you, spinning you around by your shoulders. He started pushing you through the woody parts of the camp. – “Where are we going?” – you questioned. – “To be alone, like you wanted.” – he simply said, continue to push you forwards. Using you like a compass, navigating his way through.

You came to a clearing in the woods. All the cars were parked over there. Daryl guided you towards the truck opening the door for you at the drivers seat. You got inside, watching him jog around to get in on the other side. He shut the door firm behind him. – “Solitude and silence.” – he joked. – “You are still here.” – you reminded him with a tease. Daryl leaned down in the seat, getting all comfy. – “No I’m not.” – he adjusted the seating lower, leaning back.

“Go ahead and mope or cry or shout, just wake me up when you see a walker.” – he said casually flopping his arm over his head. – “Daryl!” – you said laughingly nudging him hard. – “What?” – he responded unable to hide a smile. – “You’re an idiot.” – you nudged him again with a silly smile on your face. – “I know.” – he answered all smug. He shut his eyes, pretending to take a nap.

You exhaled soft looking out of the dusty window. – “It’s a bit too quiet.” – you said out loud. – “I’m not singing any songs.” – Daryl mumbled in response without moving a muscle. It made you laugh. Daryl set himself back up with a deep exhale. – “Alright fighter, let’s talk.” – he tapped his hand on your knee.

You grabbed the steering wheel staring in front of you. – “How are you feeling with your brother being back, Y/n?” – he asked. You breathed out a laugh, looking at him. – “What I can be serious.” – he let out making you laugh even more. You then calmed letting your hands rejoice at the top of the steering wheel. – “It still feels a bit weird seeing him alive. Don’t get me wrong I am overjoyed he is alive… it is just…” – you started. – “You thought he was dead for so long.” – Daryl finished as you hummed.

“Before… before it all went down my brother was shot.” – You told Daryl. – “They were armed and shot at my brother. Shane… my brother’s partner brought him to the hospital. He wasn’t waking up so they left him in a coma. It was already then a risk if he would make it out alive.” – taking a deep breath you let your forehead rest against your hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly you were pulled back in the memories of the first strike.

Shane drove his car aggressively onto the front lawn. He stepped out all worked up when Lori appeared in the door. – “Shane?” – she said. – “Lori get your bags!” – Shane ordered pointing firm at her. Carl squeezed himself between the opening and his mom, coming in front of her. – “Lori your bags!” – Shane shouted having opened the trunk. – “What for? What is going on Shane?” – She asked feeling herself go in a panic because of his behaviour.

A few houses away broke the window with a clashing sound. Screams filled the streets when a woman tripped. A person going up to her and dropped himself to the ground. A moment later his head lifted a bit of flesh between his teeth. Blood staining his chin as he munched on the flesh. Lori covered up Carl’s eyes, shakingly holding a hand before her mouth. – “Lori!” – Shane yelled startling her. – “The bags!” – Lori nodded shockingly letting go of Carl.

Shane rushed over to Carl, grabbing him roughly by the arm. – “What about dad?” – Carl asked when Shane opened the car door. Shane pushed Carl on the backseat, closing the door on him. Shane ran into the house to help out Lori. Carl looked out of the window, crying silently at what he saw. Flesh being ripped off and blood splattering all around.

You were running horrified by what was occurring. Utter panic in the streets. People eating people. Biting bits and pieces for their own hunger. You didn’t lived far so your first reaction was running over to Rick’s house. There you saw Shane’s car parked poorly on the grass. Upon seeing Carl in the car, you started running faster. – “Carl!” – you shouted loud. Carl heard some muffled sounds before his eyes fell upon you. – “Auntie Y/n!” – he called out, pushing the car door open.

He ran up to you, bumping hard against you. He was crying loud against your body as you shielded him from the horrors. Lori and Shane came out of the house with bags. – “Y/n!” – Lori said surprised. – “Get in the car!” – Shane ordered to Lori. Lori nodded going to the car, tossing the bags in the trunk. Shane walked up to Carl, pulling him off you. – “In the car!” – he shouted at Carl, tossing him towards the car. Lori took Carl, putting him in the car.

“Where is Rick?” – you asked confused. Shane remained silent. – “You were with him! You were at the hospital so where is he?” – you wanted to know. – “Where is he?” – you shouted punching Shane on the shoulder. Shane grabbed you by the wrist. – “He’s gone!” – he shouted at you. – “No!” – you cried out.

“You are lying!” – you told him. Shane grabbed you by the arms. – “You want to go and see for yourself? Fine! It will be your dead. He is gone Y/n!” – Shane’s hands moved further around you towards your back as it made you step back before they could fully close around you. Shane’s expression hardened. – “Go chase a dead man than!” – he said rudely pushing you away.

You stumbled to the ground in shock. Shane stormed off towards his car. – “If you would just…” – he began, looking over his shoulder to you. Without another word he got in the car. Your eyes widened knowing what he was about to do. You got up to your feet running towards the car. The car got in motion as you missed it. It took a turn, driving off. – “Shane!” – you shouted running after the car.

“Shane!” – you screamed as the distance increased. You couldn’t keep up, you never could. Stopping you dropped to your knees crying and screaming. Carl on the backseat knocking against the glass and shouting was the last thing you saw.

Your head shot up making Daryl blink confused. – “Is…is everything alright?” – he asked after your long silence. – “He told me Rick was dead.” – you mumbled staring hard in front of you. Your hands tightening around the steering wheel. Knuckles turning white. – “He lied…” – you said a bit louder. – “Who?” – Daryl asked getting a bit cautious of how terrifying cold you were being. – “He lied!” – you called out.

Out of anger you started to slap your hand against the steering wheel. Hitting it repeatedly even when your hand felt sore. – “Y/n, Y/n.” – Daryl said trying to get you to stop. He grabbed your hands as you continued to slap, hitting Daryl in the process. He pulled them off the steering wheel pulling at your hands to turn your posture more towards him. He wrapped his arms around you tight as you cried your heart out against his chest.

Pressing his lips hard on top of your head. Daryl turned his head spotting a trailed off walker appear from between the trees. – “Y/n.” – he whispered. – “I’ll be right back… you stay here…” – he said as you felt his grip around you loosen. You lifted your head up as well, seeing the walker. Daryl moved his finger to his mouth, letting you know to remain silent. He then gestured for you to stay put. He was going to take care of it. Your gaze darted down to the crossbow on the floor. His arrows sticking up.

You grabbed an arrow, getting out of the car. – “Y/n!” – Daryl called out, hurrying out of the car. Clenching your grip around the arrow, you went up to the walker. – “Y/n!” – Daryl shouted as it caught the attention of the walker. The walker gaged making it’s way over to you. Daryl ran up to you trying to keep you out of harms way. You raised the arrow, jamming it into the walker’s eye. Pushing it further in, the walker fell backwards with you on top of it.

Pulling the arrow out of it, you jammed it again in it’s eye. Then again and again. Gory blood splashing up. You kept trusting it in the eye, creating a massive hole. – “Y/n! Y/n!” – Daryl called out grabbing your arm to stop you from hitting it once more. – “It’s dead.” – Daryl made clear. You gasped for air with a loud sob, lowering your arm. Daryl took the arrow from you.

You wiped some gore off your face with your arm. Getting up with a loud huff. You wanted to walk off as Daryl grabbed your wrist, keeping you in place. – “What the hell was that about?” – he wanted to know. You didn’t have to speak as he understood. Daryl searched his back pockets taking out a key with the most ridiculous keychains on them. He opened your hand slapping them in your hand.

It made you frown. – “You can drive if you like.” – he said. – “Daryl what… what do you…” – you began as he interrupted. – “I don’t need all of them! I don’t! Hell I can survive better on my own!” – he made clear with a loud tone. – “So f*ck them all and drive off!” – he continued finally making himself clear to you. He grabbed you by the shoulders with a deep exhale.

“All I care about is you Y/n. Let’s get in the car and go. Just go. Leave this pile of shit behind.” – he pulled you closer letting his forehead rest against yours. – “All I want is for you to be save Y/n. So say the word and we’ll leave.” – he finished. You closed your hand with the keys in it, smiling up to him. You kissed him tender on the lips.

Daryl held himself back knowing it was a bittersweet kiss. He knew you couldn’t leave Carl… or Rick. – “I’ll hold you to it.” – you told him not saying entirely no to his offering. Daryl cupped your cheeks, kissing you once more. Deepening his kiss. Lips brushing against one another. A promise made underneath the moonlight.

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justmystyles · 10 months

Text

Now You're In My Life - Part 5

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: hey gang, remember how fluffy this has been? well, we took a bit of a turn at the end here. sorry about that. i promise, i'm going to fix it though!

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags (thank you forever, from the bottom of my icy cold heart to anyone who has asked to be tagged, or interacted/read this story at all. it means the absolute world to me.): @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfever @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Your eyes flutter open as you stretch the sleep out of your body. You reach the king sized bed, pulling your phone off the nightstand to check the time. Instead, you are distracted by a text notification. It’s from Harry. You rub the sleep from your eyes so that you can read the message carefully and unlock the phone.

I know you said you were just tired, but it felt like more than that. I want to be your safe space, but understand if you are hesitant. I won’t bring it up again, just know that I’m here for you. I’ll see you in a few hours.

He sent that text at four in the morning. You had Harry so worried about you that instead of resting for his show, he was thinking about you. You needed to find a balance, you didn’t want to get any more attached to him than you already were, but you also didn’t want to be a distraction from his tour.

You got out of bed and started getting ready, the whole time coming up with a plan for the best way to get through the day. You decided that you had to just go back to how things were this time yesterday. It was your last day with Harry anyway, if this was going to be your last memory of him, it might as well be a good one.

You hadn’t been told what time to get to the venue today, so you figured you were supposed to get there around the same time as yesterday. Since you had some time to kill, you relaxed on the bed in your leggings and a tank top, watching television until you had to get dressed and head out.

You were startled by a knock on the door, you weren’t expecting anyone and you definitely had your do not disturb sign up. You approached the entrance and leaned up, looking through the peephole. It was Harry, his hands were behind his back, and he seemed nervous.

You took a deep breath before opening the door. He looked at you with a questioning expression, and you smiled softly at him, signaling that you were better. He sighed in relief and removed his hands from behind his back, unveiling two Starbucks cups.

“Trick or treat!” He says, his dimples on full display.

“Aww Harry, that was really sweet but I don’t–”

“Drink coffee,” he interrupted you. “You told me. It's hot chocolate, the only hot drink you like.” He extended one of the drinks in your direction.

Fuck, this was going to be a hard day.

“Thanks,” you took it with a smile.

As you turned to walk back in the room, Harry cleared his throat, you turned to see he hadn’t entered yet. “What, are you some kind of vampire or something? I’ve gotta invite you in?”

“Nope, just waiting for my delivery fee.” He arched a brow and tapped his lips with his index finger.

You chuckle and step up to him, placing your lips to his. “Good morning, Harry.”

“Good morning, princess.” He smiled before pulling you in again, kissing you deeper this time. “Now, let’s see this room, shall we?”

You guide Harry inside, he lets out a low whistle as he take a look around. “Nice digs.”

“It’s fine, I’m sure it’s not half as nice as the hotel you’re staying in.” You take a quick glance around the room in case there’s anything you might not want Harry to see.

“Oh, I’m not in a hotel. I have an apartment here.” His eyes catch it before you do, there’s a panic in your face as you rush to the bed, but he gets there first. “Who do we have here?” He pulls a stuffed fox off the bed and looks it over.

You snatch it out of his hands, your face going bright red. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, princess.” He brushes a stray hair behind your ear.

Your gaze drops to the floor, but he puts his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I uh… ugh, this is going to sound so lame and needy.”

“Try me,” he encouraged.

“When I sleep, I need to have my arms around something. I’m a hug sleeper, so I sleep with that every night.” You look back down at the floor.

“I knew you were a snuggler,” he smiled, pulling the fox from your hands and dropping it on the bed before pulling you in close. “I’m going to get you a body pillow with my picture on it. It seems like the only logical solution.” You laugh into his chest and he holds on tighter. “I love making you laugh.” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head.

“So did you come by just to deliver me a hot chocolate?” You change the subject.

“Nah, we don’t have to be at the venue until later, so I thought we could go out. Maybe grab a quick lunch, sightseeing, something like that?”

“That sounds fun. Should I bring my costume for tonight?” You move to your closed while you talk, pulling a long sleeved tee out and over your head.

“Sure, we can drop it off there on the way. One less thing to worry about later.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he looks at the screen. “Goddamned paparazzi.” He laughed.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, taking a seat at the desk to slide your shoes on.

“Great actually. Did you know we were being filmed last night?” He holds up his phone, showing you the pictures that Jeff took in Harry’s dressing room. “How cute are we?”

“The cutest,” you reply, feeling yourself get emotional at the pictures. That moment meant everything to you, and there was photographic evidence of it.

Harry sends you the pictures and the two of you go on your way. He once again insists on carrying your backpack for you. After dropping it off at MSG, you head to Central Park. Harry’s hand seems glued to yours the whole time. Though you heard a few ‘is that Harry Styles?’ mumbles and some gasps as you travel the streets, people were respectful for the most part, giving you both your space.

“Y/N?” A voice calls as you stroll through the park.

You and Harry both freeze. “How is it that I’m the celebrity, and you’re the one people are calling for in the streets?” He whispers to you as you turn around.

Your eyes go wide, and you break into a grin when you see your good friend Andy approaching you. “It is you! You didn’t tell me you were going to be in town!” He wraps you in a bear hug and lifts you off the ground.

“It was a last minute thing,” you respond as he places your feet back on the ground.

“Are you here for a concert or a show?”

“I… uh,” you know if you say concert, he’s going to ask you who, and you’re not sure how to even begin to tackle that. “Uh… a boy actually.” You shrug with a blush.

Harry takes that as his cue. “Hello, I’m Harry.”

The men shake hands and Andy looks at you curiously, you know what he’s asking and nod your head. You fall into a bit of small talk, and Harry excuses himself to use the bathroom, allowing you and Andy to catch up for a bit.

“Y/N, are you dating Harry Styles?” Andy asks once Harry is out of earshot.

“I honestly have no fucking idea,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders.

“It sure seems like you are, he’s kind of all over you.”

You blush, loving the idea that other people see Harry being affectionate with you. If other people see it, maybe it is something more. You redirect the conversation, afraid to dig too deep into your feelings for Harry, and speculations on his feelings for you.

Before long Harry returns, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Princess,” Andy shoots you a knowing look at Harry’s nickname, you shrug him off. “But I think we should be going.” He nods to a few people standing around who have started to pull out their phones, undoubtedly to take pictures and videos of him.

He knew he was being filmed, but he was still openly affectionate with you. That’s not nothing.

You said your goodbyes to Andy and went on your way, stopping for a quick slice of pizza before moving on to the Garden. They didn’t have a full sound check like they had the previous day, but there were a couple of songs they wanted to run through before the show.

Much like the previous day, Harry made sure you weren’t too far from his side the entire time; watching rehearsals from the stage, hanging out with the band and crew at craft services, and even a little makeout session in Harry’s dressing room, until you kicked him out so that you could start getting in your costume.

He begged to stay at least while you did your hair and makeup, but you insisted it would give everything away. When he pouted and complained, you reminded him that it was his idea to surprise each other with your costumes. You laughed when he stomped out of the room like a child having a temper tantrum.

You were pretty nervous about this costume, it was a bit of a departure from your princess costume the night before. It was either going to be a huge hit or a fantastic bomb. You gave yourself one final look in the mirror, hitting your hair with a little more texturizer before texting Harry that you were ready. Before he could get to you, you went into the bathroom and shut the door, allowing yourself the opportunity for a proper reveal.

“Let’s have a look,” Harry said as he entered the room. His face dropped when you were nowhere to be found. He saw that the bathroom door was closed and ran over tapping on it softly. “Princess? C’mon out. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You take a deep breath, turning the knob and stepping out into the dressing room. Running your hands through your hair and flopping it to your right side. You stand frozen in place, waiting for Harry’s reaction.

He studied you carefully, starting with your messy hair and running down to the white t-shirt with rolled sleeves, and tight black skinny jeans down to your brown Chelsea boots. “Are you…”

“I’m you,” you said tentatively. “Well, I mean like old you. Young you? One Direction you.” The words spill out of your mouth so quickly you don’t even know what you’re saying.

Harry remained silent as he stepped up to you to get a closer look. He walked around you, wanting to see the costume from all angles. He stopped when he got to your left arm, lifting it and examining it closely. “You even have the tattoos.” He marveled.

“I uh… yeah. I cut up a pair of tights to draw them on.” You answer nervously. “Is it… are you…”

“This may be the greatest costume I’ve ever seen.” He says. You look over and see his wide, dimpled grin. “You look… I mean wow.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. There is one problem though.” Your brows round in question. “It’s a little alarming how much this is turning me on.” You burst out laughing, swatting at his chest, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “I’m not joking.” He says just before pulling you into a heated kiss.

Harry practically dragged you down the hall, eager to show everyone your costume. You felt a huge relief knowing Harry liked your costume, it was just icing on the cake that everyone else went wild for it as well. They were all taking pictures of you while Harry tried to instruct you on how to pose and what face to make to be the most authentic.

Once the excitement of your reveal died down, everyone went their separate ways to get ready for the show. You sat on the couch in Harry’s dressing room, scrolling through your phone as he changed in the bathroom.

The sound of the door opening pulled your attention, you looked up and smiled as he moved towards you in a sea of ruffles.

“Well?” He held his arms out and did a quick spin to show off the costume.

You chuckled as you jumped up and ran over to him, playing with the ruffles around his neck. “Very bouncy. This is going to look amazing on stage. Especially with the way you move around.”

“Ah, so you’ve noticed my moves?” He says slyly.

“Well you drag me to these shows to watch you perform, I kind of can’t help it.” You say sarcastically, making him laugh and pull you close, smothering you with kisses.

“I’m going to make you a fan whether you like it or not,” he joked.

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door, notifying Harry that he needs to start making his way to the stage. He gives you one last lingering kiss before taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

Walking a few steps behind him, you finally catch a glimpse of the back of his costume. “This part kind of looks like a diaper though,” you chuckle.

He turns around, eyeing you curiously, you tap your hand against his rear and he arches a brow at you. “Does it? Or were you just looking for an excuse to touch my bum?”

“I have moves too,” you shrug.

Harry smirks, shaking his head at you. “I’ve noticed.”

You're led to the same area you were in the night before, waiting for the show to begin. A lot of people seemed to notice you, you had people calling out to you telling you how much they loved your costume, a few even snapped some pictures. It was sweet, but you hate having attention on you, so you were a bit uncomfortable.

Jeff noticed and stepped a little closer to you. “I know it’s weird, but you’ll get used to it.”

You smiled and nodded politely, but you knew there was nothing to get used to. After tonight, you’d go home and the past week will all just be some crazy memory. Harry would just be a memory.

The show was electric, the crowd was rowdier than you had seen at the other shows, and you could tell Harry was absolutely feeding off their energy. He would glance your way often, offering a wink or a smile which you would happily return. When his eyes traveled in your direction during What Makes You Beautiful, he could barely contain his laughter, looking at you, dressed like him during that period of his life.

When the opening notes of Sign of the Times started, you were hit with the realization that your time with Harry was coming to an end. You had done a good job of keeping your feelings at bay, but the truth of the matter is that you had fallen in love over the last seven days, and when you woke up in the morning it was all going to be over.

You hadn’t even noticed that you started crying until you saw Harry’s face drop when he looked at you. He immediately pulled the microphone from the stand and moved to your side of the stage. You brought your hand up and wiped away the tears, he held up a tentative thumbs up, asking if you were alright. You nodded in response, but he didn’t move. You took a deep breath, wiping away some more tears before returning the thumbs up. He smiled softly at you before moving on. He would continue to shoot you worried glances for the remainder of the show.

When you got back to Harry’s dressing room the door was already shut, you assumed it was because Harry was in there. You knocked gently, Harry immediately called for you to come in.

He was pulling his hoodie on as you entered. When his head popped out, your eyes immediately locked and he gave you a sad smile, “Was I really that bad?” He said, trying to keep the mood light.

You shook your head with a humorless chuckle. “No, I think that was the best of the three.” You say, referencing the three shows you had been to.

“All the shows you’ve been to have been the best ones,” you eye him curiously. “You being there makes me better, I want to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You say quietly, you were barely able to hear yourself over the sound of your heart breaking.

“Excellent, I’ll announce my retirement immediately.” He joked. When you didn’t laugh, his face fell and he stepped up to you, placing his hands on your hips. “Hey,” you keep your eyes trained on the floor, afraid you’ll fall apart if you look at him. He lifts your gaze, kissing away the stray tear that had broken loose. “Talk to me, princess. What’s wrong?”

You shrug, taking a shuddered breath to try to compose yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh,” he coos softly. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me for expressing your feelings. I just want to know what’s wrong so I can help.”

“I… I just…” Your breath hitching with each word.

Harry guides you to the couch, sitting you down before sitting beside you and wrapping you in his arms. “Take your time, I’m right here.” He holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“It’s so stupid, I’m not this girl, I don’t do this.” You mumble between sobs. “I just, it hit me that I’ve gotta go home tomorrow, and you’re going to fly off and keep touring, and I’m just really going to miss you.”

“Oh honey,” he squeezed you tighter. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“Really?”

Harry pulls back, taking your face in his hands. His heart sinks when he sees your red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. “So. Much.” He punctuates each word with a kiss on your lips. “But just because we aren’t going to be in the same place doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me. I’m still going to blow up your phone every day, and FaceTime you after every show. Though I’m heading to the west coast, so the calls will be a little later.”

He gives you a wink, making you laugh. “There’s that beautiful laugh.” He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks to wipe your tears and pulls you close to kiss your forehead. “We still have a little time. We can spend it crying and already missing each other, or I can take you back to your hotel and we can watch a silly movie, or just talk, whatever your sweet little heart wants.”

You nod, surging forward and crashing your lips against his, pouring all your feelings into the kiss. He returns it with just as much fervor. You pull away breathlessly, sighing at the sight of Harry’s wide grin. You can tell he’s about to say something stupid.

“Except for that you little minx,” he chuckles. “There’s not nearly enough time for us to do that properly.”

You laugh, ignoring the butterflies that stirred at the thought of taking things further with Harry. He was right, this wasn’t the time for that. Besides, leaving him was already going to be hard enough.

You changed out of your costume and went with Harry back to your hotel. You put on the television, but it was mostly just there for background noise, you two stayed up until sunrise talking. Whenever Harry would see your mood start to shift, he would hit you with one of his corny jokes, doing whatever he could to make you smile.

When it was finally time for your goodbyes, they were tearful and much more emotional than you had planned. You had hoped that you had gotten it all out of your system after the show, but as soon as he stood from the bed, your emotional dam burst once again.

It was a long goodbye, Harry doing everything he could to make sure you were alright. There were plenty of hugs, whispered ‘I’ll miss you’s and promises of seeing each other soon. Then, with one final kiss, Harry was gone. You watched him as he walked down the hallway, before he turned the corner, he looked back once more blowing you a kiss which you pretended to catch and place on your cheek. He shook his head and pointed at his lips before blowing another kiss, this time when you caught it, you placed it on your lips. He gave you that signature smile once more, paired with a thumbs up, and just like that, he was gone. It was a perfectly Harry way to say goodbye, and it left you perfectly heartbroken.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harrys house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic

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saetoru · 2 years

Note

Obey me boys except when the gold hellfire newt syrup made them horn dogs, you let them hit 🫶🏻

𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐄 + 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂

☰ INCLUDES: lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

— tags: nsfw 18+, spoilers for lessons 21 and 22, afab! reader, unprotected sex, cowgirl (leviathan), hand jobs (satan), cunnilingus (beelzebub), blow jobs (belphegor)

— notes: this has been in my drafts for so long rip

✰ 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑 wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against his chest, cheek laying over your head as you clutch his shirt tightly with your fist. “did you think of me when you went back to the human world? did you think of only me—not my brothers?” he asks lowly, voice almost a slight pant as you feel his hard-on poke you through his pants. you nod, hand reaching down to palm him through the fabric, making his hand grab your wrist with a growl. “it seems you’re still just as bold,” he smirks, gently pushing you back until you’re sprawled over his desk, your clothes being tugged off as he kisses you messily. you watch as he strokes himself a few times, his jaw clenching before he slides up and down against your folds, smirking at the way you whine. “don’t tease,” you huff, lips puffy and swollen from the earlier kissing. “did you dream of me? of this?” he whispers, blunt tip slipping into your warm cunt, kissing your sweet spot perfectly as he buries himself to the hilt with a low groan, “because i did. i dreamt of this since you left. you’re mine, all mine,” he grunts, hips slowly starting a rhythm as your arms wrap tightly around his neck, your sweet whines ringing through the room. lucifer thinks he can get used to this melody—thinks he prefers it over any symphony he’s heard over the millennia. your walls hug around his cock tighter, and he moans lowly, head digging deep into your neck. “do you know what you do to me?” he growls, “a mere human, but i can barely breathe when i look at you.”

✰ 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 cups your cheeks and kisses you needy, hungry, desperate. his lips suck on yours, tongue exploring your mouth as he pants against you. “why’d ya take so long to get to my room?” he pouts, “shoulda came to me first. are they more important? ‘m your first,” he reminds you, letting out a shaky breath as your hand trails under his shirt to rub over his bare skin. your palm glides up his abs to his chest, thumbs rolling over his nipples as he whines softly. “come closer, i need ya closer,” he groans, cock pulsing through his jeans as he rubs against your clothes cunt. you moan against each other’s mouths, grinding your hips against each other before he quickly slips your pants down your legs, fumbling to free himself before he bends you over the hood of the car in his room. “always wanted to bend ya over this,” he mutters, pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck. “room’s been so empty without ya. ya don’t have to go back, jus’ stay here with me, the great mammon’ll take care of ya.” his cock slowly inches into you, ripping a needy moan from his throat as his forehead rests against your shoulder, your tight walls fluttering around his thick cock as his hands squeeze your hips with a bruising grip. “f-fuck, ya feel so g-good—don’t think i can let ya go after this,” he grunts, hearing your breathy moans under him, making him even harder as he ruts his hips into you. “missed you, mammon,” you whine, “missed you so bad.” his breath is labored as his pace turns sloppy, angling his hips to slam into the spot that makes your back arch against his chest. “‘course ya missed the great mammon,” he lets out a breathy chuckle, “‘m your first man, don’t ya remember?”

✰ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 blushes as you whisper “kiss me, levi,” his breath hitching in his throat as you lean closer, your breath fanning over his lips. he should pull away—but he can’t help but lean closer until your lips touch, molding against each other perfectly. he pants against your lips, kissing you sloppily as your tongue slips into his mouth and glides against his own—pulling a soft chuckle from you as he lets out a strangled groan. “w-we should stop,” he stutters, “but now i want more.” you grin, gently pushing him onto his back on his bed, hovering over him as you trail your lips down his neck and to his collarbone, marking his pale skin while his breath turns ragged. “want more too, levi,” you murmur, “missed you so much. let me show you.” he watches in a trance, pupils dilated and cheeks crimson as you slowly undress, helping him slip out of his own clothes before you hand grazes his stiff cock. he lets out a shaky gasp, hips bucking into your hand for more friction. “a-are you sure...you want to—” he quickly cuts himself off with a moan when you squeeze around his tip, thumb teasing his slit before smearing the pre cum over his length. “of course i do,” you hum, letting out a soft moan as you sink down on his cock, watching as his head falls against the pillow and his hands grip your waist tightly, “wanted this for so long.” you roll your hips, both of your moans filling the room as he thrusts his hips up to meet you halfway, veins dragging along your walls and tip sinking deep into your sweet spot. “c-can’t believe you’re back—can’t believe you’re with me,” he rasps, “hope you never leave.”

✰ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍 presses you against his wall of many books, and even as you feel the uncomfortable dig of the bookshelf against your back, you can’t help but let your lips press harder against his, making him let a soft groan as his hair falls over his eyes. “did—did you ever wish to see me? while you were away?” he breathes, eyes staring into yours as you brush the strands of hair out of his face. you lean to press gentle kisses along his cheeks, feeling the heat of his blush under your lips as your hand moves to rub over his clothed erection. he lets out a choked groan, head falling to your shoulder as his legs quiver when you slip his hardened cock from his pants. your thumb glides through his slit, smearing the pre cum around his reddened tip before slowly stroking his length, feeling his hot breath as he pants against your skin. “i did,” you murmur, “and i wished to see you like this too,” you say cheekily, feeling him let out a low chuckle through his labored pants. “being away has made you less shy, it seems. you’re—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a soft moan, hips thrusting into your fist and chasing the friction. you turn your head, planting soft kisses on the side of his head, stroking him faster as your hand squeezes tighter around his aching length. you grin as he shudders against your body, your free hand threading through his sweaty locks. “did you get lonely without me,” you hum, making him scoff—but then you squeeze around him tighter, making him rasp out a moan as his cock twitches, nearing his impending orgasm. “okay, f-fine,” he grunts, “i missed you. it wasn’t the same without you—i’m not the same without you.”

✰ 𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒 giggles as he presses soft kiss after kiss to your face, mapping out your cheeks and forehead, lingering over your eyelids and the tip of your nose as your arms hook around his neck. “oh, you’re so cute! your waist fits my hands so perfectly,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as he admires you. you whine, bucking your hips up, letting out a shaky gasp as the tip of his cock rubs over your clit, making him smile down at you with a chuckle. “patience, sweetheart,” he hums, “i’ll give you what you want, but first you have to tell me if you missed me as much as i missed you.” his finger teases over your clit, rubbing slow circles, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as he presses gentle kisses to your neck and sucks on the skin. “i did,” you cry, “i did, i m-missed you so much! asmo, please—” he cuts you off with the tip of his cock slowly teasing past your folds, a soft laugh ringing through your ear as he kisses the shell of it. “you’re so pretty when you’re all needy,” he grins, “so, so cute when you want attention. i love you.” he lets out a wanton moan against your ear, breathy gasps bubbling from his throat as you squeeze around his cock, his hips rolling with a slow, steady pace that leaves you both whining against each other. “love you too, love you too,” you babble, raising your hips and meeting his thrusts halfway, mewling as his he curves into you and hits your spot perfectly. your chests meet, nipples grazing as he pulls you into a heated kiss and whines against your mouth. “feel so good, sweetheart,” he groans, “you’re so pretty like this, don’t think i can ever let you go now.”

✰ 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁 plants two strong hands on your hips, pulling you closer as his head falls to your shoulder, his nose trailing along your neck and inhaling your scent before he presses a soft kiss to your skin. “you smell so good,” he murmurs, “let me taste you—just a small nibble.” you gasp lightly before he lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter, fingers hooking into your waistband and quickly making work to pull your pants and underwear down your legs. “just need one taste, you smell so sweet,” he breathes, kneeling down until he’s face to face with your dripping cunt. he presses a soft kiss to your clit, humming as you shiver and let out a soft whimper. “so hungry—but it feels so different. so hungry for you,” he mumbles, lips attaching onto your clit and sucking slowly while his fingers sink past your folds, making you throw your head back as your hands bury into his locks and tug at the roots while you whine. “b-beel—fuck, we shouldn’t…we shouldn’t do this h-here,” you stutter, feeling his tongue slide along your wet folds, your slick smearing across his face as he devours you. “can’t wait anymore, ‘m too hungry,” he moans against you, the vibrations making you squeal as your brain turns foggy, all reason leaving your mind. “more,” you whine, “please, i need more.” his tongue almost sinks past you deeper at that, lapping at your folds as he groans at how sweet you taste. “gonna come taste you when i get hungry from now on,” he moans, “so good and sweet for me.”

✰ 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑 is breathing heavily, face bright red as you kneel between his legs, pumping his stiff length with your hand as your other fondles his balls. he lets out a choked gasp when you lean down and kiss the tip sweetly, looking up at him with doe eyes. “belphie, don’t get shy now,” you hum, “you asked for this, remember?” he grunts, frowning down at you with pouty lips. “i’m still mad you ate my food,” he huffs, “so you have to make it up to me.” smiling, you press kisses from the base of his shaft, lips pressing gently up his length as his breath turns more and more ragged. his head throws back with a soft whine as you take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip before you bob your head up and down his length. his hips buck into your mouth, hand cupping the back of your head before he fucks himself down your throat. “fuck—you’re good at this,” he rasps, “sh-should’ve had you do this while you were here.” his eyes are squeezed shut, faced flushed as your hand gently rubs his thigh. popping off with a grin, he hisses, glaring down at you as you press another kiss to his tip. “i’ll do this whenever you want,” you murmur, blinking up at him innocently before slowly wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, making him groan lowly. “then you b-better come back whenever i call,” he grunts, “in fact, don’t leave at all.” your hand reaches to play with his balls once more, making his head fall back with a low moan, cock twitching in your mouth while pants erratically. “didn’t get to spend as much time with you as the rest—g-gotta stay with me and make up for it.”

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#hcs.#lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #lucifer smut #mammon smut #leviathan smut #satan smut #asmodeus smut #beelzebub smut #belphegor smut

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chaotic-nick · 4 months

Text

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊[actor au! bf! Yuuji x reader] ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Plot: Yuuji’s got two instagram accounts— his public account, and his ‘normal’ one. He’s got two loves, too. And he’s made a mistake that night.

Tags/ warnings: none - actor au – sukuna is his twin - established relationship

wordcount: 678

note: psst here's another fic where Yuuji's an actor, could be set in the same universe too.

Yuuji’s tired eyes held awe as he watched his fiancee sat on the floor with her back against the couch’s frame. He fought the sleep coming, persisting that he’d watch (Y/n) coo at the kitten asleep on the palm of her hand. “It’s so tiny” She repeatedly said to herself, unable to process that such a creature could be so small.

“But,” he decided he’d join her on the floor, arm rested on the seat. “You’re the cutest, right?”

His excitement to tell her about finding them cuddled together in the studio’s costume department was interrupted by his twin yelling, “Disgusting!” as he walked past them. In Sukuna’s breast pocket was a black cat with white spots on its eyes. “Mine’s cuter than yours/”

She’d torn her gaze away from the cat, and followed Sukuna as he walked to the hallway. Cat— no, cats never leaving the warmth of his breastpocket.“Are you keeping the cats?” (Y/n) turned to Yuuji.

“Mhm,” his fatigue wearing off, Yuuji secretly pulled out his phone. Already open to its camera app. “She looks like you—”

Wide-eyed, she looked up to Yuuji, then to the cat, perfectly being captured on the camera. “It’s a she?”

“Right? I thought it was all male kitties at first and then Shoko-san played doctor and actually looked at them. She and Gojo-san took the momma-cat away, no one really knew what to do with the kitty-lets. ”

“In a human scenario, that’s scary.”

“And you’d be petting a fetus.”

“Fetus?” Even wider, her eyes stared at Yuuji. Mouth agape. As if her loving boyfriend din’t effortlessly say things that disturbed his own twin.

“Fetus.” He confirmed. Arms up in the air, waving to emphasize his point. “It’s tiny enough to be fetus-sized if you put it in human terms.”

Nodding, (Y/n) looked at the kitten.

“Ahh, makes . . . sense.” It didn’t.

“Yuu, what’s her name gonna be?”

“She looks like you—”

“That would be an insult, Yuu.”

“Yuu don’t see yourself sleeping.”

“I’ll take her with me to taping when we can’t be together.”

“Ahh . . . how about,” pretending to be in deep thought, and oblivious to the camera taking candid shots of the two of them, she looked up to the ceiling. “men-men?”

His hand hovered at his phone when he caught her eyes drifting to it with a suspicious look. “Men-men?”

“Mhm, like the ramen we used to eat after classes, remember?”

“Ah! Saiko Ramen!” Tapping open his private Instagram profile, Yuuji didn’t bother looking at the pictures he had taken and chose all the ones where she smiled. “We should eat there when we visit your parents.”

“Then get the men-men special! Hold her, I’m gonna prepare for bed.”

“I got the meat special back then.”

“You always do. Here,” she put the cat on his knee, placing a kiss on his cheek.

‘My love with my little love’ he hurriedly typed. “Baaabe, thought we were gonna wash up together?”

“I can put men-men next to Sukuna’s kittens!” And posted the compilation of tonight’s pictures without a second look. He was sure that it was open to his private Instagram anyway.

Or so he thought.

2.30 pm

Tokyo Buzz: Itadori Yuuji reveals rumoured long-term non-celebrity girlfriend in casual Instagram post.

“Oh my god,” he let out when the realisation settled in his mind. As if losing all feeling throughout his body, Yuuji could only hang his head down, and covered his face in his hands, “Shit, shit, shit.” Scared that even his whispers would wake (Y/n) up in his room.

Sukuna tried to reassure him with, “Be thankful it wasn’t your dick out in the open.”

“How do I fix this?”

“Delete it.” It’s what he did when his dick was out to the world.

“No,” Yuuji shook his head, cupping his chin. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” Sukuna looked at the profile, seeing the comment box that Yuuji kept open for his friends to see— their friends—begin filling up with fanclub pages and fangirls. All of them crying over how they lost the ‘nation’s boyfriend’. “You do that before I do something.”

#nick writes fics #yuuji itadori x you #yuuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x reader

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throneofsapphics · 5 months

Text

old faces, part five

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again, and deal with the fall-out of your secret

Warnings: drinking, mentions of death, incest jokes

Word Count: ~5.8k

A/N: all of your support with this little series means the world to me and is incredibly motivating! thank you so much. if anyone wants to be tagged in the next part, please let me know!

series masterlist

“Only princesses live in castles all the time.”

Rowan leaned against the wall, right next to the door, admittedly eavesdropping on your conversation. He’d intended to come talk to you, to see Ceri before bed, but now his heart is sinking. You’d only had this conversation with them yesterday, and insisted you speak to her first. Better sooner rather than later, he supposed. More time to figure out a plan.

“Some of the guards live here as well,” you countered, “and healers.”

A small pause. Then a sniffle. Gods, was she crying?

“Do we have to?”

Rustling and movement. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

“So I don’t have to study maths anymore?”

A huff of a laugh, and then a giggle from Ceri. “Maths are important.”

“You hate them.” He pressed his lips together to muffle his own laugh. Footsteps, and the door swung open.

You looked exasperated, at him, but he knew you’d already scented him - Rowan wasn’t doing anything to hide his scent.

“They’re still important,” you stepped aside to let him in, sending a pointed glance his way, “right?”

His mouth tilted up at one side, “right.”

A groan came from Ceri, then she was flying across the room, he braced himself as she flew into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. Absent-mindedly, he ran his hand over her back.

“A story?” She tilted her head up at him, eyes pleading. Rowan nodded, and let her lead the way back to her room. They’d offered several other rooms, but Ceri always insisted on staying in the same one. At least it was semi-close to theirs.

“What kind of story do you want?” He asked, leaving the door slightly ajar. He already dreaded the day she’d stop asking for them.

“Wyverns,” Rowan blinked. Usually it was Dragons, and he’d tell her about a sea dragon. Lysandra was thrilled the first time she heard about it. “The ones the witches ride,” she added, as if exasperated he didn’t know. That’s what they had in history books now, or taught in lessons. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he is.

Rowan threw together a story, from what he could remember, of Abraxos and Manon, carefully avoiding

what happened to the rest of her coven.

As he reached the end, he was grateful her eyes started to droop, he was struggling to throw things together.

“I want to ride a Wyvern. I want to be a witch.”

Rowan was less grateful, his heart caught in his throat. She fell asleep before he could explain someone was born a witch, or that there’s no way in hell she’ll be getting within a hundred feet of a Wyvern. Most of them were not like Abraxos.

The door clicked shut gently behind him, and he found you, book propped up in one hand, cup of tea in the other. He settled in the armchair across from you, closing his eyes and kicking his legs out in front of him.

A wyvern. He needs to be more careful about the stories he tells.

Peeking his eyes open, he saw you close the book, gently tossing it to the side. No bookmark, he winced.

“Do you remember the page?”

“It wasn’t that interesting,” you muttered, hissing as you took a sip of your tea. Too hot. He didn’t think before he cooled the drink, just enough to be drinkable. Your eyes shot up in surprise, glancing between it and him. “Thank you,” you sounded a bit confused, but kept drinking the tea anyway. Confused he’d done something like that? He used to, all the time. Maybe you didn’t expect those sorts of things from him anymore, but he could easily change that.

“Our daughter wants to ride a Wyvern,” not mentioning the part about wanting to be a witch as well.

Jolting, the tea sloshed over the sides of your mug, landing on your pants, but you didn’t look away from him as the cup clanked on the side table.

“Wyverns?” you choked.

“She asked for a story,” he defended himself.

A laugh, an honest and deep laugh left your chest, “If she manages to bond with one of them, she would’ve earned the right.”

“You’re supposed to say it’s a bad idea,” he tried to scowl, but your laughter was infectious, and his mouth curved at the corners.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Exactly. Silence is agreement”

“Depends on the situation,” biting the inside of your cheek, you curled your legs up under you, snatching your mug again, wiping the small droplets of liquid off with the inside of your sleeve, expression straightening back out. He missed the smile.

“I’m assuming you heard our conversation.”

“I did,” a cautious answer, waiting to see if you’d snip at him for eavesdropping.

“If I didn’t want you to hear, I would’ve stopped speaking,” you read through his lack of words.

“I still want both of you to move in here,” he didn’t know what else to say, but made sure a small shield of wind would hide this conversation from small ears.

“I’m not the one you need to convince,” hands clenched around the mug as you took another sip, tongue darting out to catch the drop gathering on your lip. He swallowed, for a reason he should not be. Not that Aelin hadn’t shown … Rowan shoved that thought deep, deep down. Not the time. Would it ever be a good time? “I’m not sure what else I can tell her,” you continued, thankfully ignorant to his inner thoughts.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” he forced the words out. Your hand covered a yawn, giving him a good reason to excuse himself, making it down the hall before he braced a hand against the stone, letting the rough material center him.

It had been somewhat of a disaster, Rowan bringing up Ceri and you moving to the castle. She’d outright refused at first, and still refused by the end of the conversation, but a little less vehemently. Not enough to bring her hope, but she knew Rowan was still thinking through ideas. Sure enough, Ceri had quickly changed the subject, and Aelin found herself on the receiving end of one of her difficult questions.

“Why do they call you Gods-Killer?” Ceri asked casually, and Fenrys choked.

“Because I killed some of the gods,” Aelin answered. It wasn’t the whole story, but that’s all she needed to know for now. If Ceri asked some day, when she was much older, maybe she’d tell her more. But a ten year old doesn’t need to know that.

“Why?”

“They killed someone I cared about very much,” Elena was already dead - but Deanna had taken away her chance of an afterlife, “and broke promises.”

“Good,” Gods, she really is so much like her father. And maybe more like her mother than either of them know. “So,” Ceri sat down her fork, and Aelin already didn’t like where this was going, “if someone breaks a promise, I can kill them.”

“No,” you said quickly, eyes wide, “those were very different circumstances.”

“Fenrys said we could have dessert first.”

“I did not,” the male immediately countered.

“You did,” Ceri shot back.

“I said the day you can beat me, we’ll have dessert for breakfast.”

“You didn’t say what I had to beat you in.”

A groan from the male. “In. A. Fight,” he clarified, avoiding yours and Rowan’s gaze.

Aelin watched as you leaned back, head tilted up towards the ceiling. Maybe praying for mercy, maybe cursing Fenrys - especially as a challenge gleamed in Ceri’s eyes.

“There are laws against murder,” Rowan steered the conversation back.

“When is murder allowed?”

Aelin remembered there were few laws against murder with the Fae, but - laws applied equally in Terrasen, regardless of whether someone was Fae, human, or Witch. Rowan, bless him, carefully and thoroughly explained the laws.

“Murder,” you murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, “I don’t know if he’s realized he’s telling her when she can kill.”

Aelin looked at Rowan, recognized the look in his eyes, “he knows.”

You turned your head, still resting on the back of the chair, to face her. A long-suffering look on your face. “She takes after her father.”

“And her mother,” Aelin added without putting much thought into it. You didn’t look convinced, so she kept speaking. “People … are drawn to her, the same way they do you.”

That’s the best way she could describe it, and a faint blush rose on your cheeks as you murmured a thanks.

“It's too big.”

“You’ve been coming here for months,” you’re not sure why you bothered to point it out, especially when she gave a contemplative pause.

“But you don’t like it here.”

Too perceptive, she was too damned perceptive. “The castle is fine,” you forced the words, ignoring the conflicted emotions swirling in your chest. It’s not that you didn’t like it, just that you'd prefer to live somewhere else.

“Fine doesn’t mean good.”

“Then we go looking for houses,” you ran one hand over her hair. “Don’t forget you can change your mind.”

Ceri nodded, “I know.”

“Would you like me to tell your father?”

A scowl. “I’m old enough to do that myself.”

Thank the gods, you really didn’t want to tell him. “I know,” you repeated her earlier words, hiding your relief.

“I’m going to wait,”

“It’s your decision,” you murmured, running your hand over her hair again, and she grinned up at you before darting off.

“What’s the verdict?” Fenrys approached a minute later.

“Can you keep a secret?”

He gave you a look that said; blood sworn, like you were an idiot for forgetting that.

An over-dramatic roll of your eyes. “She hasn’t completely made her decision, but she thinks the castle is too big.”

“She’s been staying here for over a year.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What do you want?” He asked instead. For some reason, that surprised you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, even though the heavy coat kept away any chill.

“Whatever she wants.”

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms this time. “What if it was your decision?”

“It’s not,” you said, with a bit more bite than you meant, and shot an apologetic glance at him. He didn’t seem phased.

“But if it was?”

You fixed your eyes on the cobblestone directly ahead of you. This was a dangerous question, a topic you’d avoided thinking of or ruminating on.

“I was never born to live in a castle.” And that’s all you would say on that. Fenrys seemed to sense it, to sense the wall going up.

“They mean well, but you know Rowan can be a bit stubborn about getting what he wants. So can Aelin.”

He didn’t fight for you, the nasty voice said. I never wanted him to, you countered. It was a relief he hadn’t.

“I’m not the one they need to convince,” you watched her climb up one of the trees, trying to get one of her friends to do the same. Another thing you’d noticed about your daughter while staying here, the amount of friends she has. Of course, she has plenty in Caraverre, but other children flock towards her. It’s always been that way.

“I’m taking you on a night out.” Talk about a subject change. “You look like you need one.”

“I’m vaguely insulted.”

“No monarchs invited,” he added. The storm had abated, the ‘monarchs’ in question insisted you stay an extra three days, just in case, and you were due to leave in two. The bitter part of you said it was only so they’d have more time to convince your daughter to stay in the castle, but realistically they did have a point, even if that was an underlying intention. Not everything has to be nefarious, you reminded yourself. Sometimes people do things out of genuine care. There’s not always a greater agenda, but in this case … you got the inclination there may be one, but you couldn’t figure out what, and that was going to drive you to the brink of insanity.

“Tonight,” he added, drawing you from your thoughts. Tonight, meaning in just a few hours. You scowled at him, he’d left you little to no time to find an excuse to get out of it.

“People go out in this weather?” The bright sun wasn’t enough to melt the snow banks gathered against the walls.

“They serve alcohol for a reason.”

He has a good point… and it would be nice to have a night out, a time you could pretend it didn’t feel like your entire world was bending and folding back over again.

Aelin wasn’t jealous, she had no reason to be. Maybe a bit offended that Fenrys had immediately declared ‘no monarchs allowed,’ for your night out. Just the two of you. Rowan didn’t look entirely happy about it either. But, she supposed he was your closest friend in Terrasen. Fenrys liked to boast about it, ever since he learned it pricked at her husband's temper.

When it came to pissing off Rowan, she was only second to him. Fenrys made it an art form. Still, as she watched you walk out arm in arm with him, she couldn’t help thinking he’d done it to piss off her as well.

“A night out will be good for her,” Rowan said.

“And if she decides to spend the night with someone?” She asked, a test.

Rowan’s face tightened, “then that’s her decision.”

Aelin frowned, he didn’t pass.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun, or when you’d drank this much. Before you became a mother, that’s for certain. Still, you weren’t quite sloppy drunk, but a good bit past tipsy.

“Your tolerance is shit,” Fenrys commented.

Poking him in the shoulder, “you’re just as bad.”

He shrugged, but grinned. At least you were equally as drunk. But, you were a bit peeved. One male had eyed you appreciatively, and even if you wouldn’t do anything about it - the attention was nice. Fenrys glowered at him, and he paled and turned away.

“Why did you do that?” you huffed under your breath,

“Do what?” He asked, voice honeyed with false innocence. He yelped as you dug your elbow into his ribs.

“At least my tolerance hasn’t changed.”

“I haven’t changed,” it was an obvious lie, and you both knew it. You’d realized a few seconds too late he wasn’t talking about you as a person, just your limits with alcohol - but you’d already opened the floodgates. “Maybe a bit,” you amended. “We both have.”

He hummed his agreement, “you don’t seem quite as … happy,” he hesitated on the word.

“I am happy,” there wasn’t a reason to be sad.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant you’re not as carefree.”

“Child,” you pointed out.

“More than that,” he ran a hand over his hair, perhaps a bit too drunk to put his words together.

The bartender shouted last call, her voice carrying over the crowd, and saving Fenrys from trying to explain himself.

“Another would be a bad idea,” you murmured, but Fenrys was already moving, getting ahead of the crowd, and missing your comment. You followed him, a bit unsteady on your feet. By the time you caught up, he’d already put in the order. For something, but you didn’t particularly care what - as long as it was strong enough to make you forget the last five minutes.

Fumbling with your pocket, you tried to slide a coin on the corner, but his hand stopped you.

“Put any coin on that bar and i’ll shove it-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you cut him off, but slid your hand back.

“We’ll finish the conversation when we’re sober.”

“We will not.” Fenrys already had that look in his eyes, the one that told you the conversation absolutely would happen. More time for you to prepare, then. “If we remember,” you added.

“I’ll write myself a note.”

“Your handwriting is barely legible on a good day.”

The drinks came by, saving Fenrys again, this time from trying to come up with a witty remark.

Despite the rather … thought provoking statement he’d made, it didn’t put a damper or shadow over the rest of the night. You took full advantage of the remaining hour, finishing your drink, laughing, singing along to some kind of bawdy song you only knew half of the words too, and all too soon you were saying goodbye to at least seven new friends you made. Could they be considered friends if you’d already forgotten their names? Well, hopefully there would be some friendly faces once you moved here.

If a night out in Orynth was this much fun, living here couldn’t be that bad.

It’s possible a white-tailed hawk soared above the city around the time the taverns closed, and may have shot back to the castle once he spotted two familiar drunk and laughing Fae stumbling back through the streets.

Rowan flew through the window, finding Aelin standing, arms crossed over her chest.

“Really?” She tried to sound disappointed, but looked more amused than anything.

A flash of white light, and he shifted back. “I needed to check.”

Aelin raised a brow, “you didn’t need to, they’re both adults.”

“I wanted to,” he corrected. “Is that a problem?”

Aelin’s brows lowered, studying him for a few moments, but he held firm. “If I could have, I probably would do the same thing,” her shoulders rolled back, “shall we greet them?”

“I want to see just how drunk they are,” her eyes said. He held out his arm in answer.

“Mother and father are here,” Fenrys announced as you entered the wing where your rooms were, just down the hall and around the corner from the Royal suite. Meaning, you usually had to pass by there in order to get to your room.

“He’s the father of my child,” you frowned. “That’s weird. Incest is weird.”

Each word began to slur into the other, and you heard a choking noise - but you were focused on Fenrys’s reply. “I suppose we aren’t in Adarlan,” you found some satisfaction that his words were slurred as well.

“Oh gods,” that was Aelin.

“Adarlanians,” you sounded out each syllable, “marry their relatives?”

Fenrys shrugged, like it was a rumor he could neither confirm nor deny. Aelin groaned, and started ushering the two of you back towards your rooms.

“My rooms are so far,” Fenrys whined - honest to gods whined, but his rooms were all the way down the hall, and around a few corners. For a drunk person, it might as well have been a mile.

“Crash in mine,” you offered, “there’s a spare room, and a perfectly good couch.”

“Thank you,” he went to link his arm through yours again, but Aelin beat him to it, turning over your shoulder, you caught Rowan glowering at Fenrys. Why would he glower? It’s not like you were sharing a bed. Why would it matter if you were? There’s nothing between the two of you, besides friendship. Friends shared beds all of the time.

“I’m a great cuddler,” you said, just to see if they would react.

“You kick,” Rowan countered.

“I do not,” you insisted.

“How would you know?” Aelin decided to cut in, “you’re sleeping.”

“I’ll find out tonight,” Fenrys added cheerily.

You could’ve sworn you heard a low growl or two, but you’d already reached the door, fumbling with the handle. You’d put too much of your weight on the door, because as soon as it opened - you went careening towards the floor. Fenrys tried to catch you, only to fall as well, alcohol throwing off his center of balance.

At least the carpet was soft, you rolled over onto your back, running your hands over it. It was comfortable.

“I might sleep here,” you sighed, eyes half lidded. Rowan and Aelin stood in the doorway, amused at the two of you, and you shot a bright grin their way.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” Rowan, the bastard, needs to stop trying to give you orders.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered, turning over on your side and tucking one arm beneath your head. Fenrys mirrored your movements, the two of you facing each other.

A long suffering sigh, from Rowan you thought, and gentle hands were pulling you up to your feet. You swayed back and forth, Aelin holding you steady with a faint smile on her face.

From the corner of your eye, Rowan was tugging Fenrys up, not quite as gently.

“Be nice to my friend,” you slurred. Aelin was biting her lip to hold back a laugh, and she was grateful Ceri decided to have a sleepover in another wing of the castle. Otherwise, she’d be wide awake right now and witnessing this mess.

“Hear that Rowan, the lady says be nice to me.”

Rowan released Fenrys, and the male stumbled back a few steps. She kept her grip on you as you tried to lunge for him. The last thing they need is to drag both of you off the floor again. Without realizing, her arms had wrapped around your shoulders, holding you back in place. When Fenrys caught himself, one hand on the arm of the couch, you sighed in relief, and melted back into her.

“Time for bed,” Aelin shifted so her arm wrapped around your shoulders instead, leading you off towards the room. Grabbing some night clothes, she offered them to you, trying to shuffle you off towards the bathroom.

“I think I’ll sleep naked,” you announced.

“As much as I’d enjoy the view, it’s still a bit cold out,” you wouldn’t remember this in the morning, but she’d remember how your cheeks flushed.

Rowan and Aelin left, only as you fell asleep, alone in your bed - Fenrys already snoring on the couch.

The end of the visit came all too quickly, and for the first time you found yourself looking forward to your return to Orynth. Looking forward to searching for a house on the outskirts of the city. Yes, you didn’t particularly look forward to staying in the castle in the meantime, but you couldn’t deny the city had it’s charm. Rowan and Aelin’s reassurances unlocked something in you. Not a desire to step into the public eye, but to stop avoiding it. If anything happened, you weren’t alone this time. Accepting help wasn’t a weakness.

Ceri waved as you set off, just around sunrise. In around two or so weeks, you’d be heading back to Orynth.

Your daughter, however, was currently pouting because you couldn’t ride horseback in this weather, and she didn’t like the carriages. She was mollified by the few books Aelin let her borrow from the Library of Orynth. You had a feeling she just hadn’t informed the librarians they’d be leaving the city.

Tilting your head, you caught part of the title; dragons. “What are you reading?”

Thankfully, she didn’t look annoyed at your question. Instead, her eyes lit up as she lifted her head. “About last dragons, besides Wyverns,” she flipped the book around to point at a page. A sketch of mountains, you squint your eyes, made of glass with a few dragons circling overhead, one breathing fire into them. You looked further at the book, it was old, by the color of the pages, but well preserved. Maybe with magic. Was this one of the few books that survived the initial siege of Orynth?

“They lived in the Kyzultum Desert. But they were all killed in a war eight centuries ago.” Kyzultum, a desert on the southern continent, far south from Antica. You’d never visited, but always wanted to, to see the glass mountains. “They made mountains out of glass. The book says it’s just speculation, but soldiers from Doranelle hunted the dragons to extinction.”

A small pain in your heart, for creatures hunted just for their power or because someone viewed them as a threat. Soldiers from Doranelle. You would bet gold marks on who exactly sent that order.

“Why did they kill them? The book doesn’t say.”

“Probably from fear.”

She hummed. “Do you think dragon eggs could survive this long?”

“I don’t know,” but Gods, if Ceri set her mind to it - she’d find out. And if they could … you started thinking of ways to discourage your daughter from hunting for Dragons. Maybe you’d have to lean on her father for that one. “Giving up on Wyverns already?”

She scowled at you, drawing a small laugh before she returned to her book.

Rowan was in a pissy mood, and Aelin knew exactly why. Ceri waited until the last night to announce her ‘decision,’ leaving all of them on edge. Then said she wanted to live on the outskirts of Orynth, with a small cottage, a garden, chickens, and a wyvern. Considering how you scowled at Rowan, she knew who you blamed for that idea. Still, they weren’t quite out of time. The two of you would return in around a month, permitting you could sell your house in that amount of time, and still stay in the castle while looking for another home.

“Y/n didn’t try to sway her decision,” she commented - although Rowan already knew that. You’d decided to stay perfectly neutral. It’s smart, not wanting to get into an argument like that. After all, she’d chosen the same path. “Besides, Ceri might change her mind later.”

“Right,” he cleared his throat.

“So,” Aelin leaned back in her chair, “Wyverns?”

“She asked for a story about them,” he groused.

“What did you tell her?”

“What I know of Abraxos.” As far as Wyvern’s go, Manon’s mount is the exception, and Rowan might’ve given the wrong impression when it comes to the beasts.

Aelin laughed, “I can’t wait to tell Manon. Already a bedtime story.” She didn’t know if the Witch Queen would be offended or amused. Ceri hadn’t met any of their friends from other Kingdoms, not yet. It would come one day, especially with the move. Would you want to meet them as well? SHe hoped so.

The little hellion’s presence made Aelin realize she wasn’t quite ready to have more children around. It would come one day, but faced with immortality there was plenty of time. Besides, maybe it was a bit selfish or strange, but she wanted to spend time with Ceri as she grew up, and wanted Rowan to as well. He’d missed out on seven years.

Aelin always knew he’d be a good father, but seeing it with her own eyes only cemented that. Plus, the rest of the court and castle got to witness a softer side of him.

“Had y/n already settled when you met her?”

“No.”

Gods, going through all of that with a small child. She had hers a few years ago, and it … sucked to say the least. The only plus being some of her magic returned, not quite to what it was before, but still much more significant.

Rowan had turned back to his book. Another question had lingered in the back of her mind, “What is her magic?” He marked his page, setting it to the side.

“She has an affinity for raw materials, imbuing them with magic. As far as I know, it’s unique to her bloodline.”

“What else could it do? Besides what she sells.” Protective wards, enchantments, all impressive.

“I never asked.” The dagger. Enchanted to leave a mark. Fenrys said she’d paled when she saw it. If it’s unique to her bloodline … maybe the attack wasn’t only meant for Ceri. “What are you thinking?” Rowan interrupted her train of thought.

“You said it’s unique to her bloodline,” Rowan nodded. “The dagger,” he stiffened but she kept going, “she recognized exactly what it was. Why use a dagger specifically meant to leave a mark? Why make a dagger like that?”

“It’s possible her ancestors made it,” he started, “daggers and knives like that could be intended for different rituals. Using it could’ve been ignorance - or a coincidence.”

Aelin’s mouth tightened. That was a bit too strange to believe. “You know that’s bullshit.”

“Sartaq hasn’t sent word of anything, there’s not much we can do from over here.” But, Rowan did look unsettled.

“Could anyone else have made it?”

“She’s better suited to answer that question.” A month from now. Aelin wasn’t particularly patient on a good day, but she’d remember this. “Don’t be surprised if she wants to leave it in the past.”

“What happened to her parents?”

Rowan didn’t look like he wanted to answer, but she felt like she needed to know. Like it was relevant. He told her the entire story, not sparing any of the more gruesome details. She read the words in his eyes; I didn’t tell you. If you ever decided to tell her, she’d act surprised. A stone settled in her stomach. You hadn’t just been hiding from Maeve.

“Then Lorcan hunted the rest of them down.”

“Who was it, the ones who attacked them?”

“The last armies of a Kingdom who particularly hated Fae, destroyed on Maeve’s orders.” And her father participated, that much she could put together. “It’s in the past, Aelin,” there was a hint of warning in his tone. To drop it.

She nodded absentmindedly. If she could find a way to be subtle about it, she’d keep looking into it.

“Leaving already?” One of your neighbors questioned, after you finished showing the house to a young couple - the woman currently at least a few months pregnant, and glowing. You nodded, watching them disappear. “Where to?”

“To Orynth,” you turned to look at her. A friendly older woman, living a few doors down, who’d greeted you the day after you moved in with a basket of cookies. This neighbor happened to be the mother of the son, currently linking arms with his wife, trudging through the snow. It was a given you’d sell the house to them, if they ended up wanting it.

“We’ll miss you here, and your little one.”

“We’ll miss you too,” you murmured, rubbing your arms to stave off the chill. “Want to come in?” It felt right to offer.

“I’d love to,” her face lit up. Ceri was due back from school in a few hours, and now big enough to walk on her own, although always with a group of other kids. It was a close little community, on the outskirts of the city, and you really did like it here even if it was a bit … boring. Maybe that’s part of the reason Ceri wanted to move to Orynth.

The two of you settled in front of the fire, hands warmed by mugs of tea, and you listened to her talk. Her husband - killed by Adarlanian soldiers, her three children - who went to fight in General Ashryver’s legion, the bane, only two returning at the end of the war.

“Something happier now,” she waved her hand. “What about your family?”

“It’s just me and Ceri now,” you forced a smile. She gave you a sympathetic look, and although you knew she meant no harm - you wanted to wipe it right off her face.

“Her father?” There’s the catch. She knew damn well who her father is, the entire town does, and you shot her a look to tell her that. She had the grace to look a bit sheepish, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. “Can’t help the curiosity,”

‘Yes you can,’ you wanted to say, but reminded yourself she’d been nothing but kind - and still is, but probably wanted to get in all of the questions she’d been dying to ask before you left. You were aware anything you said now would make its way through everyone else living here.

“We’re on good terms,” you said firmly.

“How did you meet?”

“We knew a few of the same people.” Actually, you’d met at a bar - but she had no business knowing that. An ache started to form between your brows. A few hours passed, conversation thankfully diverting from Ceri’s heritage and into more neutral topics. You found yourself enjoying the company.

“It takes a strong woman - or female, to raise a child on her own,” a brief haunted look passed through her eyes, and you offered her a tight smile. Her situation had been different, Terrasen being under occupation by Adarlan and all. She blinked a few times, letting out a long breath. “I’m making some meat pies this afternoon, I’ll bring one by.”

“Thank you,” she stood, and you led the way out the door, walking her down towards her gate.

Ceri was currently coming down the street, accompanied by a few friends, holding … something in her arms, bundled tightly. When she saw you, she sped up her pace, now almost-running down the street.

“Look, look,” she said, shifting her arms just enough for you to see what she was holding. A little head peaked up, yellow eyes, then a meow. “She was all alone, I couldn’t find her mother,” Ceri looked up at you with pleading eyes. You ran a gloved hand over the kitten’s back, getting a small purr in reply. Orange. It was rare to find an orange female cat.

“Let’s get her out of the cold,” a squeal of excitement, and she raced off towards the door.

The two of you bathed her in warm water, and the weird little thing liked it.

“Are you sure you want to keep her?” You asked, but even if she said no you’d probably insist. One hour, and you were already in love. Sure enough, you were hissed at. Twice.

“You can be friends with her,” Ceri said, sitting as close to the fire as she could get, the kitten wrapped up in a towel, sound asleep. She was talking about your animal form. A Baast Cat, not a housecat.

“I’m sure we’ll get along,” you smiled, taking up a seat next to her. That little head poked up again, meowing, before crawling out of the towel. Ceri let her go, choosing to take her mug of hot chocolate from you instead. Carefully, the kitten crawled over onto your lap, small claws digging in. “What should we name her?”

“Wyvern.” A hiss. Not Wyvern, apparently. Ceri rolled her eyes. She tried out a few different names, but none of them were approved. You’d already noted she was very intelligent, even for a cat, and looked up at you like you were supposed to know the answer.

“Halle?” you offered, as a half-assed guess. Surprisingly, a small purr came from her, and you ran your fingers through her fluffy fur, watching as she promptly fell back asleep. Like she was waiting for the conversation to be over.

“Halle’s coming to Orynth with us.”

“Of course.” You couldn’t leave the newest member of your family behind.

taglist: @fussel9913 @moonlightttfae

#throne of glass fic #rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n #throne of glass x reader

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