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justabrunettewhowrites-stuff · 3 months

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'The Night Everything Fell Apart'

Clarisse La Rue x DaughterOfApollo!Reader!

WARNINGS!!:Mentions of blood,su!c!de,r!attempts su!c!ce.Angst! (Sorry If I missed anything!)

Angst,Annabeth is the one who finds reader.Part 2 out:

A/N:Not what I usually write but one of my friends rq'd this so I gave it a try.I SUCK AT WRITING SAD/ANGSTY STUFF PLS DON'T COME FOR ME.

A usual night in camp halfblood was disrupted as all of a sudden,the silence shattered into a symphony of horror.A blood - curdling scream pierced through the night.The source of the scream was Annabeth Chase,who had a look of sheer terror etched across her face.Clarisse, shaken from her slumber, sprang to her feet, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her sword.

"What the Hades is going on?!" Clarisse barked, her eyes scanning the camp for any signs of danger as her eyes narrowed

The camp was soon alive with commotion as other demigods rushed out of their cabins, confusion etched on their faces.The source of the scream became clear as they followed the anguished cries to the scene unfolding near the cabin of Athena.

Annabeth stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror, and a chilling realization struck Clarisse - something was terribly wrong.And soon they found out what...

Clarisse's boots pounded against the dew-kissed grass as she sprinted toward the gathering crowd.The atmosphere was thick with tension,and as she pushed her way through the onlookers,her gaze fell upon the tragic sight that had elicited Annabeth's horrified scream.

There,surrounded by a growing pool of crimson,were you,a daughter of Apollo.Your normally vibrant face was drained of color, and your once-bright eyes stared dully at the sky,blood dripping from the corners of your mouth.The metallic scent of blood hung heavily in the air, and Clarisse felt a lump forming in her throat.

Annabeth knelt beside you, her hands shaking as she pressed them against the fatal wound.The sight was heart-wrenching - a stark contrast to the usually composed and strategic daughter of Athena.Clarisse, known for her tough exterior,felt a surge of sorrow welling up inside her.

Clarisse's stern facade crumbled as she beheld the harrowing sight. The daughter of Ares,almost for the first time in her life - felt a surge of helplessness.

"What happened?" Clarisse demanded,her voice betraying a vulnerability she seldom showed.

"She tried to...end it," Annabeth choked out, her words heavy with sorrow. "But she's alive.Somehow,she's alive..."

"Get Chiron! Someone, get Chiron!" A familiar voice broke - Percy - as he pleaded with the surrounding demigods. A few of them dashed off in search of the camp's wise centaur, leaving Clarisse and others to bear witness to the tragedy unfolding before them.

Chiron,the wise centaur and camp director, surveyed the scene with a heavy heart. Clarisse stood by your side, her fists clenched in a futile attempt to contain the anguish welling up inside her.

Her eyes flickered to the faces of her fellow campers, each one reflecting a mixture of shock, grief, and disbelief.The bonds forged in the heat of battles and training seemed fragile in that moment as the reality of a friend lost to despair sank in.Especially the kids of the Apollo cabin - your fellow half-siblings broke down at the sight,it was too much for them to bear.

You had always been a lively presence in camp,your laughter echoing through the training grounds.Nobody had suspected the darkness that must have gripped your soul to lead to such a tragic action on your part.The weight of the realization pressed down on Clarisse's shoulders, and she couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest.

"No..." Clarisse whispered,the weight of the revelation settling heavily on her shoulders.

"Y/n!!" Clarisse's eyes suddenly widened, her voice a choked rasp. It was a plea, a desperate call to a friend - perhaps a love,who seemed to be slipping away.Her fingers brushed against your cold skin,and a shiver ran down her spine.The air hung heavy with the unspoken fear that lingered between the demigods.

She knelt beside Annabeth - who was still crying - her sword forgotten as she reached out. The usually fierce and stoic daughter of Ares felt a surge of helplessness in the face of such pain.Clarisse couldn't shake the image of you, alone in the darkness, driven to a desperate act.

As the reality of the situation sank in,Clarisse's emotions boiled over. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white, and let out a primal scream that echoed through the night.The weight of the moment bore down on her, and she collapsed beside you, tears streaming down her face.

"Why?!Why would she do...this!?" Clarisse choked on the words,her voice raw with grief. She cradled you in her arms,her fingers trembling as she tried to comprehend the pain that had driven you to such desperate measures.

You were carried to the infirmary and properly taken care of.Though due to multiple factors like the obvious blood loss and the deadly wound you had inflicted upon yourself - you were still unconscious - not looking ready to wake up any time soon.

Soon enough,the infirmary door creaked open,revealing a scene that would forever be etched in Clarisse's memory.You - laying motionless on a bed,your once vibrant spirit extinguished.The room was filled with an oppressive silence,broken only by the gentle rustling of the wind.

However,Clarisse took it upon herself to visit you,her usual tough exterior softened by the gravity of the situation.The daughter of Ares sat by your bedside, words failing her as she grappled with the fragility of life as you lay unconscious.

The hours passed in a blur of anxiety and grief.The infirmary became a haven for collective sorrow,a place where the demigods faced the fragility of life in its rawest form. Clarisse, usually a pillar of strength, found herself grappling with emotions she had long kept at bay.

"You're not alone." Clarisse finally spoke, her voice wavering slightly. "We all face our demons,but we face them together.You've got people here who care about you." Even though she had no idea if you could hear her or not,she still tried to be there and encourage you - even in your state - but she hoped you could hear her,she then continued. "...I'm one of them.I care for you,I do,I swear I do,damn it!So please,please survive." Her once confident and authoritative tone was now broken and sounded more like a plea than anything.She wanted you to survive.

A/N:I have mixed feelings abt this but I wrote it bc I was in a mood and listening to spotify so ig it works.

Part two here!

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satocidal · 6 months

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “I Love The Smiths” — Nanami Kento

warnings: fluff, kissing, idk

The smiths played in the background when he first saw you.

A long sigh, a longing look—he was hooked.

A plan your mind beheld.

“Good practice,” you heaved out, “Need you to,” a pause, a hefty breath caught, “need you to teach me that move,” the smirk on your face alarmed him slight.

Kento smiled—rarely, for you, always.

“The last one? It’s not so special-”

“-no matter, want you to teach me,” his eyes searched for the clock at your words—the time for practice was up.

Kento did not do overtime.

“I’ll ask Geto-san to teach you, he’ll be more than ok with it,”

“No,” words defiant, you stared at him, “Need you to teach me,” your eyes bore into his, “Teach me right now.”

Eyes clocked over again, he sighed.

Kento did not do overtime, but for you exceptions were a must.

“Fine,” a sigh—a warm sigh with a short smile, “Get up,”

You noted the way his fingers stuffed his earphones in again—“what song are you listening to?”

Kento froze, momentarily—“just some metal,”

A nod you passed, a teasing smirk on your face, “Someone told me you’re sappy with your music though,”

Fuck you Gojo, he thought, “Metal’s sappy enough if done right,”

A giggle you let out- one he’d grown out to love, “that’s the stupidest thing you’ve said,”

“No, the stupidest thing is me agreeing to waste my time with you,” you giggled again at his annoyance, cute.

“Ok ok—here goes nothing,”

So once again, you stood in the stance—eyes boring into his as the both of you charged—he was to teach you the move, you were to outsmart him however.

Slow, in the way he moved—your smile only widening as you dodged him—body moving past the blonde and holding him back, “got ya,” you chuckled as you pinned him down.

His eyes wide—earphones jerked off—the song heard loud in midst of your panting breaths—

To die by your side

Is such a heavenly way to die

A warmth tinted his face—yours too—you lay on top of him, too close.

“I love the smiths,”

“H-huh?”

“The music, you’ve got good taste—it’s not metal though,”

“Oh,” it was metal, sure—but it was what reminded him of you, what he did love.

A blink, a lick of his lips—a bite of your own—“I really like the smiths,” you began to repeat—about to get up.

“And I really really like you,” he ushered—almost as if regretting the moment he let it out, but carefully his hands remained stuck on your hip— the regret never remained plastered long enough for before his sentence ended, your lips attached to his own.

He did have good taste after all.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from co-opting or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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laurasimonsdaughter · 2 months

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Miss Marianne Oliver, nineteen years old and enjoying her first summer away from home, was wholly unprepared for her first glimpse of the sea. The path that led them from the cottage to the beach was winding, climbing for a way before sloping down, and upon reaching its highest point, Marianne found herself suddenly in view of a glittering horizon and an expanse of water the likes of which she could not compare with anything she had ever beheld. She halted, mesmerised, unable to walk on.

A breeze carrying a fresh, unfamiliar scent touched her cheeks and she felt a peculiar, directionless joy she had never felt before. Who had ever imagined such a view!

“Oh Peter,” Marianne exclaimed. “Isn’t it beautiful. I must bring my watercolours next time.”

But her brother had no patience for admiring anything from afar and urged her to walk on, running ahead without waiting for an answer. “It will be better down at the water, I am sure!”

Marianne complied and continued down the path. She approached the beach with the happy solemnity that many others might bestow on a chapel, and Marianne had not walked there five minutes before declaring that there was no place she admired more. Her desire to visit Bath was all forgot, Thirrup, with its glittering waves and distant cliffs could do no wrong.

The weather, which had started fair, grew only fairer still, determined to add its lustre to the scene. Brother and sister both delighted in the sea breeze and the warming air; and while Peter spoiled his stockings by running at the advancing tides, Marianne abandoned her pelisse on a conveniently large piece of rock and let the wind muss the ribbons on her bonnet.

It was a long time before she was sensible of anything but the sky and the waves, but after a while she spied two figures walking quite some distance away. Two gentlemen, walking very close to the shoreline, whose twin, dark shapes seemed peculiarly enigmatic in the bright weather. One of the gentlemen was dressed in what she believed to be the blue coat of a naval officer, the other wore black, but both, she saw in surprise as they slowly moved in their general direction, were wearing a heavy fur cape about their shoulders. It was their capes, she realised, which had given their silhouettes their peculiarity. The two gentlemen walked as one, in perfect time with one another, seemingly not in talk but in perfect, silent agreement.

She watched them progress across the beach until one of them suddenly lifted his head and seemed to look directly at her. He was too far to discern the features of his face, but they were in full view of one another and Marianne turned hastily away, and, feeling she must say something after looking at them for so considerable a time, remarked:

“Look there! Did you ever see such a thing? Gentlemen wearing furs in summer!”

Perhaps it was a foreign custom? It was certainly a very strange one to adhere to in such fine weather, but how striking it looked.

“When I go to university,” said Peter, who had spoken of very little else since James had gone to Cambridge, “I shall wear just such boots!”

“When you go to university, you would do well to be less concerned with your boots and more with your books,” teased Marianne.

Peter paid her no mind whatsoever and having tired of running, not daring to go any nearer to the water, and knowing his sister would never be persuaded to walk into town unattended, declared that he wanted to back to the cottage. Marianne agreed with great reluctance and she hung back a little, walking slowly while her brother bounded ahead.

She had not yet reached the path, when a voice called out behind her and she turned to see, to her great confusion, the gentleman who had looked at her when walking the shoreline. He was a young man, looking rather breathless at that time, but with a pleasant, round face and the darkest eyes that Marianne had ever seen. He was holding out to her, draped over the sleeve of his black coat, her forgotten pelisse.

“Your coat, ma’am.” His voice was as pleasant as his face, and as breathless as his appearance.

“Thank you, sir!” she blushed, and as she took it back from him she noted that they were almost of a height. The fur coat, she saw, was not as bulky as she had thought; it was an almost sleek, grey-brown fur drawn close around broad shoulders.

The gentleman bowed, somewhat hastily, and quickly turned back to his companion in the Navy blue, who was standing back and looking very much amused.

“Come along, Marianne!” Peter called out from atop a great stone and Marianne, her cheeks red and her mind alive with curiosity, followed.

[Read the rest of this Regency Selkie Romance on AO3~]

#regency #regency romance #selkie #selkies #a seaside reel #laura drabbles #wlm romance #male selkie #selkie romance #historical romance

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ms--lobotomy · 1 month

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I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?

Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.

Word Count: 1461

Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.

“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”

You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.

“Move.”

You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.

Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.

“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.

After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.

“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.

He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”

You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.

“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.

He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.

Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.

“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.

He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”

“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.

He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.

“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”

You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.

He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.

He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.

“Take it off,” he barked.

Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.

“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.

“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.

“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.

He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.

“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.

“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”

“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.

You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.

Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.

“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.

You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.

@kit-williams

#ezekyle abbadon x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #reader insert #ezekyle abbadon #warhammer lobotomy #hes got a yee yee ass haircut but also nice abs so #I know the khan has the same but he wears it better #also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer #im gonna write a novel guys. Brb #mating press march

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mrsnegan · 6 months

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Only If For A Night

[Soooo...yes, I might have yet another obsession with a fictional, emotional unavailable man, haha. This is just a little drabble for you. I still write for Negan, of course. In the meantime, I hope you also enjoy this little fic. If it isn't your cup of tea, feel free to scroll past it.]

Summary: Joel has a nightmare. You try to make him feel better, make him forget his demons, only if for a night.

Warnings: angst, brief talk of trauma, smut, blowjob, fingering, unprotected p in v, f!Reader on top, creampie, cockwarming I guess?

You woke from heavy breathing and occasional grunts coming from the makeshift bed on the other side of the room.

Joel had insisted to sleep on the sofa, offering you the bed for as much comfort as this world still beheld. He was gruff, not a big fan of casual conversation, but he was a man of his word, one you could rely on, the only one you trusted with your life. You had met some months ago during a smuggling mission and had worked together since. Your new job required you to transport ammunition to one of the safe zones well outside of your usual territory. It was risky to say the least, but you needed the reward. So here you were, finding shelter for the night in an abandoned house. Joel must have fallen asleep during his watch which was very unusual for him. You rubbed your eyes which slowly adjusted to the darkness around you. Your bare feet touched the wooden floor and you shivered. As soundless as possible you made your way towards Joel who was fast asleep, one arm hanging down the sofa, the other draped across his eyes.

"Joel?" you questioned carefully, your fingers lightly touching his arm. He still breathed heavily, unevenly, and with your next touch to his heated skin, he jolted awake and upright, eyes wild with fear. You had never seen him like this, it made your blood freeze.

"Jo-Joel?" you asked again, this time very timidly, carefully.

He seemed to wake up fully, recognizing you. With a deep sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face.

"Sorry for scaring you, t'was a nightmare..." Joel's voice was heavy with sleep, barely above a whisper. "It's always rough 'round this time of the year."

This time of the year.

He talked about when the world turned to shit. You had heard about his past, about what happened to his daughter, but never asked him anything about it. It wasn't your place to talk with him about such traumatic things.

"It's okay, you're awake now, I'm here."

He scoffed at your remark, his eyes not meeting yours.

"That's sweet o'you, but it isn't somethin' you can influence. It's my issue, has been for a very long time. I'm used to it."

You huffed at his statement, deciding to ignore it, carefully sitting down beside him.

"Go back to sleep, it's still dark outside", he tried again, but you just shook your head.

"No, won't let you sit alone with your nightmares."

Joel's eyes met yours, his icey stare bore into you, he was pissed you could tell, though it seemed too tired to really make a scene.

"Wasn't an offer," he just spat, voice cold and distant.

"Mine neither", you stood your ground, meeting his gaze with equal determination. Before you could think about it any longer, you leaned into him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

At first he didn't respond, didn't move a single finger. When you pulled away to look at him again, he just looked at you, a mix of surprise and anger plain on his face.

"Told you to go to bed."

"No. It isn't your decision to make, Joel. You're always in charge, always functioning. You're not okay. And I won't sit around or sleep when you're hurt like this."

"You're not my wife," he said, nearly muttered under his breath.

"I know," you just mumbled, heart beating fast. Of course being someone's wife wasn't on your list, it held no special meaning in this fucked-up world, though you couldn't deny the feelings you had developed in the last few months. The need to help Joel, the need to touch him, to touch his body and his heart, to make him smile, if only a little, to make him feel good...it was hard for you to ignore this need, this pull you felt towards him. Even harder now that he really needed comfort even if he would never ask for it because he was so used to deal with his demons all on his own.

"Just let me...," you tried again, your hand resting lightly on his arm. You felt him tense under your fingertips, not used to a tender touch either, your tender touch.

Joel didn't meet your eyes, his gaze was fixed on your hand. He seemed to fight with himself, not sure if he wanted to push you away or pull you into him.

"Joel," you whispered, making him look up to you. "Please, let me make you feel good. Let me-"

You couldn't end your sentence, Joel's hand grabbed yours on his arm, before he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingertips before letting it go.

The shaky breath you drew in was the only sound in the abandoned house. Lightly, carefully, your fingers grazed his lips, his cheek, before you leaned in again to kiss him. This time he kissed you back, slowly but he did. The kiss lasted a long time and grew more passionate with every passing second. His hands wandered from your hair to your shoulders, downwards to your hips and urged you to stand up and straddle him.

His hands were all over you while you ground down on his lap, feeling his hardening length through your trousers. He grew impatient by the second, clawing at your clothes while not breaking the kiss. This felt better than any wet dream could prepare you, better than what your imagination came up with in lonely nights.

Your lips wandered downwards, kissing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. Meanwhile your fingers undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing his chest to the cold air. Noticing the goosebumps right away, your lips kept kissing his skin, feeling him shiver.

"Fuck," he mumbled, when your nails grazed one of his nipples, followed by your tongue.

With every downward motion, you also slid down further, sooner than later landing on your knees between his spread legs. He looked so handsome from your perspective, cheeks heated, mouth agape, eyes wild.

Biting your lip, you undid his belt, then the button of his trousers and the fly. When you motioned to help him pull them down, he stopped you.

"You don't have to do this."

Heart still beating fast, your desire got the best of you, kissing his hard length through the denim of his trousers.

"Shit," he swore, his head lulling to the side.

"I want to, so much," you answered him, face mere inches from his groin.

"It's yours, darlin', c'mon, make me feel good," Joel finally exclaimed, voice thick with arousel.

You didn't have to be told twice. With fast movements you helped him pull his trousers down towards his ankles, his briefs went with it too. When your eyes met his hard cock, your mouth watered. He was a sight, packing exactly what you always imagined.

Experimentally, you kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. Joel's moan was music to your ears, so your fingers grabbed the base of him, stroking his length with enough pressure to make him shake above you.

He was silent except for the occasional moan and curse, enjoying your touch, the feel of your hand around him, pumping him just right. When your lips finally closed around the head of his cock, his hand flew into your hair, anchoring himself.

"Fuuck-," he managed to say before you went down on him, swallowing as much of him as you could at the first go. Feeling the wetness between your thighs, you kept bobbing your head, taking him deeper and deeper with your movements. What didn't fit in your mouth, you stroked with your hand.

Joel was much more vocal now, his own thighs tensing with the pleasure, fingers still woven into your hair.

"Shit, so good. Such a good girl, fuck, feels so...gooood."

The deep sound of his voice made you tingle all over, moaning around his length with the praise he gifted you with.

"Up, c'mere," he demanded after some moments, guiding you away from his throbbing length by your hair.

"Take off your clothes, darlin'." He let go of you, lips puffy and eyes hooded and he didn't need to tell you twice. With shaking fingers, you got rid of your trousers and underwear, pulled your shirt over your head and made quick work of shedding your bra. Meanwhile Joel, not taking his eyes off of you for a heartbeat, drinking in every inch of your skin, got rid of his already open shirt and kicked off his trousers and underwear still stuck at his feet.

When you were cold at the beginning of the night, you only felt heat now, naked from head to toe, bare and vulnerable, but the gaze Joel gave you made you feel anything but. You felt like a goddess.

Straddling him again, your wet center came in contact with his length which pulled whimper out of your mouth and quiet curses out of Joel's. His right hand travelled from your cheek towards you neck and from there down, down, down, groping your breats, finding its way over your stomach to your dripping pussy.

Two of his fingers stroked you while your eyes fluttered shut at his ministrations.

"Look at me," he exclaimed, voice deep.

Your eyes shot open, locking with his just in time for his fingers to enter you. He met no resistence, sliding in perfectly, fucking you slowly.

"Fuck, darlin', you're so wet, y'hear that?"

He pumped his fingers a bit faster now, the sound of your wetness obscene in your own ears. With your mouth agape, your hands flew around his neck to anchor yourself, your hips kept moving with Joel's strokes, like having a will of their own.

"That's it, fuck y'self on my fingers, just like that."

"Joel," you moaned, feeling him curl his fingers just right, his thumb coming down on your clit, flicking it with the right amount of pressure to make you see stars. Your hips stuttered, clenching around his fingers when you came with his name leaving your lips.

He held you steadily in his lap with his other hand by grabbing the flesh of your hips, pumping his fingers time and time again before he retreated them.

The bliss of your orgasm clouded your mind, your legs and arms felt like jelly, your heart beating so fast, faster than you were used to. You didn't register Joel lifting you up a bit to position himself at your entrance, stroking himself, coating himself in your juices. You didn't register it until he pushed into you, pulling you down, down, down, impaling you on his girthy length. He was a tight fit, stretching you deliciously.

"Fuck, Joel," you babbled, cock-drunk, and so full of him.

"Yeah, I know. Shit, you feel so good, so tight." He kissed you, tongue licking at your lips and slipping past them. His hands embraced you, keeping you safe and secure while he bottomed out.

His heated skin against yours, his hot breath against your neck when he broke the kiss to nip at your skin, his heartbeat, fast, so fast against your own chest, you could have died then and there.

Hands still around his neck and secure in his embrace, your hips kept lifting a bit before sinking down again. The movement made him moan, his cock dragging across your walls deliciously. It didn't take long for you to increase your movements, bouncing on his lap. His hands grasped your hips, helping you lift yourself up and down, up and down.

"Like that, darlin', just like that", he mumbled into your skin, occasionally biting at your sweaty flesh while the next high kept building inside of you.

"Joel, I'm gonna...," you warned him, riding him faster and faster.

His hands held you still then, pumping himself into you with sharp thrusts upwards, driving the air out of your lungs.

"Go on, cum on my cock, sweet thing, c'mon."

One look into his stormy eyes and you came shaking on his lap. He fucked you through it, praising you so sweetly, only his rough voice gave away how close he was himself.

"Don't," you babbled, letting him guide you on his cock, faster and faster, chasing his own high.

"What?" he breathlessly asked, gaze fixed on your face.

"Don't...pull out."

The moan it ripped from him, this one little sentence, made you unravel again in his arms, cock still pushing into you time and time again against that spot.

You felt him tense under you, moaning your name when he came, forehead resting against yours, giving you all he had to offer.

And then he fell silent, your unsteady breaths the only sound. He locked eyes with you again after a while and you could see a faint smile painting his lips before he shook his head.

"What?" you questioned, insecure all of a sudden without the adrenaline of arousel. You motioned to stand up on wobbly legs, but his hands pushed you down, keeping you impaled on his softening cock.

"Don't," he said, voice low and spent, "Stay."

His lips found yours in a soft kiss and your heart ached. You knew with the first sunlight this side of him will be gone again, his soft touches and heated words, his kisses. He will be the ever grumpy and cold-hearted Joel, so you decided to enjoy this as long as you could, letting him wrap the blanket next to him around your cooling bodies, embracing you with warmth.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel tlou

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halfadogwrites · 1 year

Text

LET ME HELP

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X GN!READER

SOMETHING ABOUT FIRST AID AND THE KINDLING OF TRUST ; .7k

Men in the army are stubborn idiots hellbent on self destructing for the stupidest reasons, that much you were sure of when you walked in on Lieutenant Riley attempting to stitch up a gash in his side. Key word: attempting.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed at the sight that beheld unto you.

Ghost had his two flaps of skin pinched together like pieces of paper ready to be stapled. Blood was still leaking from the wounds, and he was using a straight needle in a situation that obviously called for a curved.

“What are you doing?” you continued, dropping your things onto the floor by the door.

“Bit of first aid,” he said simply, grimacing under that mask of his as he went for another stitch.

“STOP,” you yelled in a panic.

You were across the room seconds after entering, pulling the needle from his hand. He let it go with obvious reluctance. You had a feeling that if he wasn’t in what was obviously a great amount of paint that he would have fought back harder.

“What is this? What are you doing to yourself, Lieutenant? Good lord,” you rambled on, inspecting the damage he’d done and figuring out how to reverse it.

The lieutenant now called Ghost had a reputation that preceded him. You hadn’t heard much about him prior to a few months ago, so you assumed he must be pretty young, only just starting out his career in the British Army special forces. This would lead you to assume he would have some basic first aid training, namely “if it’s not a life or death situation, let a doctor handle it.”

“You didn’t even staunch the bleeding, you bloody idiot,” you chastised. “I take a lunch break for twenty minutes and I come back to golden boy doing cross stitch on himself. Christ…”

Luckily, Ghost didn’t get too far along before you caught him red handed in your infirmary. You bustled around getting the proper materials to stitch him up the right way. You literally slapped his hand away when you saw him reaching for another needle.

“Lie down,” you told him.

You uncapped the bottle of antiseptic and had a roll of gauze ready to catch its excess and any still leaking blood. When Ghost still hadn’t laid back, you grabbed hold of his shoulder and tried to ease him down. He seized your wrist almost on instinct.

You looked at his eyes through that mask he always wore. Cam cream hid the area around them, but despite a valiant effort to hide it, you could see the panic behind his eyes. He had just gotten back from a mission. You weren’t privy to the details, but according to a friend with higher security clearance, things had gone badly in the interim of coming and going.

“Hey,” you said gently, “you’re home. You’re safe here, okay? Let me help. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Some soldiers scoffed at your—albeit—cheesy reassurances when they were still running on adrenaline or in shock, but you’d be damned if saying exactly what they needed to hear didn’t help. Ghost simply took your words for everything they were worth and let you guide him onto his back. You squeezed him arm in assurance and got to work.

Sanitize, stitch, tie it off. You were done in a matter of minutes, left only to cover the wound with gauze and a bit of medical tape. There were a few others back from the mission who needed treatment as well. Your nurse had been called back from her own lunch to help you; she was tending to someone else.

“Good as new,” you said, patting Ghost on the chest as you stood. “Stay as long as you need. Let me know if you need painkillers.”

“Doc,” he called.

You stopped with a hand on the curtain you were about to draw around him.

“Thanks.”

You smiled at him. “Anytime, Lt.”

You drew the curtain, letting Ghost rest on one of the infirmary beds as you called the next wounded soldier over.

#call of duty #modern warfare #cod mw22 #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod ghost #call of duty ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty x reader #modern warfare x reader

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mcflymemes · 10 months

Text

PRIDE & PREJUDICE PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the 2005 film

you must know... surely, you must know it was all for you.

are you out of your senses?

we've been nonsensical!

i have struggled in vain and i can bear it no longer.

are you rejecting me?

did i just agree to dance?

makes it all so much more enjoyable, don't you think?

you really do love him, don't you?

i appreciate the struggle you have been through, and i am very sorry to have caused you pain.

you're wasting your time with me.

count your blessings.

don't look at me like that!

only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony.

i'm very fond of walking.

no, i prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

may i have the next dance?

these past few months have been a torment.

i wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

my brother gave it to me.

i have never been thus treated in my entire life.

do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

so this is your opinion of me.

i had to see you.

it's been many years since i had such an exemplary vegetable.

oh, believe me, no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

i've been so blind.

i've come to tell you the news.

oh, very well then.

i must ask you to leave immediately.

you have insulted me in every possible way.

not all of us can afford to be romantic.

i could not have parted with you to anyone less worthy.

i will never see you again if you do.

he looks miserable, poor soul.

yes. a thousand times yes.

i will not and certainly never shall.

i thought that poetry was the food of love.

you are too generous to trifle with me.

all of these things i am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

there's a lot to be thankful for.

don't you dare judge me.

i don't understand.

thank you for explaining so fully.

now tell me once and for all: are you engaged to him?

if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.

have you no objection other than your belief in my indifference?

believe me, it was unconsciously done.

what a shame, for i dearly love to laugh.

and those are the words of a gentleman.

my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever.

you have bewitched me, body and soul, and i love... i love... i love you.

i love you.

i cannot tease you about that.

forgive me for taking up so much of your time.

how are you this evening, dear?

is this your reply?

they are far too easy to judge.

i do not have the talent of conversing easily with people i have never met before.

i thought you hated the man.

will that make you happy?

we're doing our best to find a fault in you.

i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

i wish you would not call me "my dear."

perhaps you should take your aunt's advice and practice?

what endearments am i allowed?

please, do be seated.

one of these days, someone will catch your eye and then you'll have to watch your tongue.

people do not die of colds.

i was wrong. i was entirely wrong.

are you too proud? and would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

this is a charming house.

i am well acquainted with you.

please do me the honor of accepting my hand.

what do you recommend to encourage affection?

what should i call you when i am cross?

are you... are you laughing at me?

i can admire you much better from here.

shall i call for some tea?

i cannot believe that anyone can deserve you.

i love you. most ardently.

good day. it's been a pleasure.

i have no idea.

did you walk here?

let us take a turn about the room.

it is a small kind of accomplishment, i suppose.

will you not join us?

i've never seen so many pretty girls in my life.

she is the most beautiful creature i have ever beheld.

why do you ask such a question?

what have you discovered?

we are all fools in love.

i have other reasons. you know i have.

i do not deny it.

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maglor-my-beloved · 4 months

Text

Gift Giving

Characters: Elrond, Celebrimbor

Words: 391

Warnings: none

Read on Ao3

Celebrimbor came to him late in the evening of his one-hundredth begetting day, once the celebration had ended and Elrond was alone in his chambers.

“Forgive the disturbance, cousin,” he said softly when Elrond bid him enter, “but I have another present for you, one that must be given in private.”

“Come and sit, then.” Elrond led him to the sofa. “I was just about to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like some?”

“Gladly.”

Soon they both sat on the sofa, drinking their tea, and Celebrimbor handed Elrond a wrapped parcel.

“This is what any prince of the House of Fëanor would have received upon the day they reach adulthood,” he explained. “You have declared yourself a scion of our House, and so it is only right that you receive what is your due.”

Elrond unwrapped the parcel. Inside was a red cloak embroidered in gold with the eight-rayed star, a silver circlet and comb set with crimson jewels, an elegantly wrought quill, and a hammer with an elaborately carved handle.

Tears welled in Elrond’s eyes as he beheld it all.

“It is lovely,” he said, his voice trembling. “I cannot thank you enough, cousin. It is all so lovely.”

Celebrimbor smiled. “It is my honour to give you these gifts, as my father gave them to me. They include, too, tools for your chosen craft, but you have already received those.”

The bundles of herbs and books on healing lore lay on Elrond’s table, among all the other presents he had been given that day. Celebrimbor’s eyes drifted to them, before returning to Elrond, who had lifted the hammer and was examining it thoughtfully.

“Have you been taught how to use it?” he asked softly.

“I have not,” Elrond admitted, and Celebrimbor laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Then I will teach you. Any descendant of Fëanor should know their way around a forge.”

Elrond’s face brightened. “I shall impatiently await your lessons,” he said. “May I ask another favour of you?”

“Of course.”

Elrond reached out and ran a finger along the circlet and comb. “Will you braid my hair and adorn it?”

“I would be honoured.”

They sat together until late in the night, braiding each other’s hair, sharing stories of their fathers and uncles, laughing and weeping as they spoke of their lost family.

#elrond #celebrimbor #december drabbles #maglor writes

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lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— nepenthe ; part four

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please do not read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small bit of SA is in part two and if it tiggers you, don’t read.

— intro, part one, part two, part three

— 2024 © LivelyPotter

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

— word count ; 2.7k

***

SOLARIS January 22nd, 2024 Charleston, SC

"Damn it, gguk." a deep voice filters inside my ears as awareness creeps upon me. "What the hell did you do?"

I felt a softness underneath my head and I unconsciously nuzzled my head into it. My body felt like it was laid on a soft surface. What was happening?

"I scared the girl, okay?" a deep voice snarled back, "What else was I supposed to do when I found this little girl in my private room?"

"I don't know," a voice shot back sarcastically, "Maybe be calm and nicely ask her what she's doing in here. I mean, come now, gguk, she's a tiny thing – what harm could she cause?"

"You can never be too careful." the deeper, scarier voice spat back. "Don't question me, Theo."

Theo.

My lips parted as the memories of tonight came flooding back.

Father calling. Ataraxia. Theo...and...and the Chairman finding me.

Bile rose in my throat and I nearly felt like passing out again. Embarrassment flooded through my veins.

Oh goddess; what would Father think of me embarrassing not only me...but also damaging his image in front of Chairman Jeon? He is also known as his boss.

Oh God, please save my soul.

"Anyways, what were you doing in here? I thought you were in the other room with Mr. Caponeiv and his team?"

Chairman Jeon released a rough sigh, seemingly closer than expected to me. My fingers curled into my palms to ground myself.

How would I get out of here without being noticed?

I held perfectly still, holding my breath – listening closely to the Chairman's reply.

"Brittany came by."

"Called her didn't you?" Theo's accented voice rose an outcave in amusement.

A snort came out of the Chairman. "I'm going to be here longer than I'd like to. She offered. How could I refuse?"

Okay. It was time to 'wake up' now. Right?

Suddenly, a painful throbbing erupted at the back of my head, where I had hit it when I had taken a tumble off the soft couch. A loud whine of pain left my lips, and my tiny hand came out to grasp it.

"Oww!"

I kept my eyes clenched shut to not only hide behind my eyelids but to also keep the throbbing at bay. Shuffling was heard and the sound of the door closing was heard and I relaxed.

"Hello, little tesoro." I heard Theo say and then a big hand placed itself on my forehead. My body unwound from its tight posture in happiness.

If he was here then the Chairman must have left! Sweet Jesus, thank you! I'm not going to die today!

"Is your head paining badly? I can get you medicine," he asked kindly, helping me into a sitting position.

"N-no thank you, m-mister T-Theo." I stammered out in a rush, "d-did you find my Father?" I asked quietly, shoulders hunching.

My eyes were still closed as I cradled the back of my head.

"I did, little Tesoro. I gave him the money from your bag. He thinks you already went back home."

"Thank you. Is...is the s-scary man gone?" I whispered for clarification. Fear had the blood pumping through my veins rush at a faster rate.

I just wanted to go home and hold Mr. Carrots.

Theo let out a loud laugh, and I imagined his big shoulders shaking in the rhythm of his laughter. His hazel eyes sparkled in mirth as he beheld my trembling frame in front of his.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon, he had to step away from a moment."

Did he have to step away so his anger wouldn't get the best of him and he killed me? An audible gulp left me at the thought.

"Come, little tesoro, let's get you up on our feet." he smiled softly, grasping my hands in his and carefully helped me stand on my feet. The world spun for a split second, and I ground my stumbling feet to the floor.

"Thank y-you, Theo." I sent him a wobbly smile, finding my crocheted bag on the couch and slipping it across my body. My knees stung as they bent.

"C-can I go h-home now?" I asked, unable to look into his eyes without craning my neck back. At this gesture, a flash of the Chairman came to mind.

Goosebumps popped out upon my skin. He was even scarier and bigger than Theo was.

I'd do well to leave this place before he came back.

A look of hesitance crossed Theo's dark complexion; "You must wait a moment, tesoro. The Chairman may want to speak with you."

Paling, I stammered out a sentence.

"...w-why does h-he want to s-speak with me?" faintness passed through my body again.

The sound of the door opening had my feet stumbling forward to hide behind Theo's bulky body. The man I was hiding behind chuckled after the door closed and made his entrance known.

"Where is she?" he said.

My little fingers grasped the back of Theo's shirt in fear, huddling closer to the man.

"All is well, little tesoro. No need to hide." Theo spoke deeply, "He will not harm you."

"How are y-you so s-sure, M-mister Theo?" my voice came out small and meek in the Chairman's presence. I couldn't see him, but I feel him.

He could be in a crowded room and everyone would stop. Because that was the effect he had on people.

I heard an unfamiliar sigh and stiffened. I clenched the fabric of Theo's shirt tighter.

"Theo, Arilie needs you at the bar. Go help her." Chairman Jeon commanded, his orotund voice leaving no room to argue. In front of me, Theo said nothing, but I watched the back of his head move in a nod.

My pulse raced when Theo moved away, thus putting me right in front of the Chairman. Through my terror; I took the time to inspect the huge man in front of me.

As 'legend' goes; he was as intimidating as those women told me he was.

He towered over Theo by at least three inches. I would have had to put him at six foot four. His black suit and tie clung to every curve and crevice of his toned body to with every move of his arms – his biceps rippled underneath his jacket.

A tiny little gasp left my lips as my neck craned back to zero in on his face.

In short; his face was just perfectly breathtaking. Stunning, gorgeous, handsome, too perfect to put in simple words also fit.

It was his eyes that drew me in.

Chairman Jeon's deep brown irises were strikingly beautiful, his eye shape was something between rounded and almond-shaped and they even sparkled. His pretty eyes captivated me at first glance. It was as if he had a special power that drew people into wanting to know about the hidden shadows within his eyes.

His skin was a beautiful shade of tan with honey undertones.

My eyes squinted just a bit to catch a scar on his cheek and the freckle beneath his chubby double pierced bottom lip.

The Chairman's sharp jawline rocked back and forth as he turned his head, pretty eyes watching Theo retreating back.

I also looked at his pretty black hair, brushing against the back of his neck. It looked fluffy and inviting — my fingers twitched to get rid of the urge to play with his hair.

The door closed with a resounding thud and I was left alone to face the man that stood merely feet away from me. My teeth came down and captured my bottom lip between my teeth and bit down – a sting of pain rolling down my neck at the sensation.

I didn't know what to do with myself.

My white shoes scuffed along with marble floor, head hanging low while watching them kick at nothing. Unknowingly, I had drawn his attention to my silent figure.

"Come here." he acknowledged me, pretty sparkly eyes finding mine. I screached his eyes for any emotion, yet I couldn't detect one.

I quivered in my shoes and aquiesced to his demand without a word leaving me. It wouldn't do me any good to fight against him – I knew I would lose. I shrunk underneath his notice and slowly moved to stand in front of him.

It was then I realized, with a flush, that if I were to stand by his side – I'd only reach his bicep. How embarrassing.

Chairman Jeon watched with scrutiny, "Your name is Solaris?" he asked, gigantic body relaxing just a bit. He shoved his tattooed hands in his pockets, hiding his tattoos from view.

I nodded meekly, staring up at him with fear and admiration. Wow! He was terrifying, as expected, but I couldn't believe I was standing in front of him! He was basically a legend! World Famous and he said my name! It felt prettier and most important coming from his lips.

He rose a brow, entirely unamused once I fought to swallow past the lump in my throat. "Are you going to speak?" he asked carefully, eyes glimmer just a bit more than before.

I flushed and tore my eyes away from his. "U-um...y-yes, sir." I simpered weakly, unable to look at the Chairman. I could only force myself to look at his shiny black shoes.

He was too appealing to look at. Way too perfect for someone like me to be allowed to stare at him.

"...m-my name is Solaris Celeste Vesper." I continued, pride flaring up within my soul as I spoke my full name aloud. My name was the prettiest thing about me, I believed.

Chairman Jeon made a small noise in the back of his throat.

It was soft and somehow relaxed my tense body.

"And how old are you, Solaris?"

It was official. No one had ever said my name the way he did. It made me love it even more.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, "...I'm n-ninteen, sir." I stammered respectfully, bowing my head in a show of upmost politeness. If I wasn't on my best behavior...well, it was just be my last day on this earth.

"Hmmm." Chairman Jeon clicked his tongue. Too frightened to take a peek at his face, I admired his shoes and how the color of his suit complimented his skin.

"Take a seat and I'll get your knees patched up, yes?"

My tummy fluttered as I wordlessly nodded and took a seat on the sofa and wiggled my bottom to get further up on the seat, feet swaying back and forth as they hung inches above the ground. I hesitantly looked up and was fixated as the Chairman walked behind me, pulled up slightly on the fabric of his pants and knelt down infront of my sitting figure.

I watched him open a small box with a bright red cross on the front and adverted my eyes when he glanced up.

"This may sting a bit," he said, lips pressed in a thin line as he tore open a small square packet and withdrew a white wipe.

"O-okay." I grimced in discomfort as he pressed the little wipe on my skinned knee, thoroughly cleaning my knees.

I rubbed my lips together and allowed myself to stare at the top of his head once his face was pointed downwards, focused.

He didn't seem so scary now. He was cleaning my wounds and being gentle, too. If he was helping me...well, he couldn't be too mean, right?

I was drawn to look at his hands once more.

His right hand had a plethora of pretty tattoos and I traced over every once of them with my eyes. My mouth formed a little O as I took in his pretty rings, they looked really expensive. But my favorite one would have to be the simpler golden ring, the one on his pinkie finger – it was classy and elegant all the same – with a engraved J on the flat surface of the ring.

A signet ring — telling all who looked at it exactly who he was and where he had come from.

Out of all of them; it was the prettiest in my opinion. Most of the time, the simpler things were the best.

My mouth opened and words came tumbling out before I could stop them.

"...y-you are scary...but not as s-scary as some p-people say, Mister." I uttered with a tiny flush as the q-tip swiping ointment along my knees stilled.

I paled, fearing that I had upset him, when he finally chuckled.

"Is that so?" he articulates, his perfectly chiseled face raising up to look at my pale face. I slumped back against the seat in relief when a small quirk lifted the side of his lips. Thank goodness he wasn't angry.

Chairman Jeon efficiently finished up cleaning my knees and placed pretty pink hello kitty bandaids on my knees that I giggled at.

I was beginning to relax around the man, enough to where I wasn't stammering my words in front of the man.

"Thank you, Mister!" I beamed up at him, wiggling my legs as I sat on the seat. My knees felt so much better after he doctored them and butterflies swarmed lowly in my tummy at his kind gesture.

"When is Mister Theo coming back?" I wondered, lips pouting out.

Chairman Jeon loosened his tie and blinked down at me, a light kindleding withing his eyes. "I have to go home soon, Mister. May I leave?" I admired his strong body as he took a seat across from me, and resting his ankle across his knee.

"Wait just a moment," he said, looking at my arms quickly, his glare sticking onto my upper arms. My eyes followed his and landed on the bruised skin. I covered my arms in shame and couldn't look at him in the eyes for a couple minutes.

His sharp jawline tightened when my hands covered what I could to shield the bruises from his sight. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, creating a bulb shape, and stared right into my eyes.

"I'll have Theo drop you off at home," he offered kindly, smiling gently at me – acting completely different to the man that I had met when he came into this room. My lips parted.

"...okay, Mister."

The Chairman nodded, face held in a blank expression, but eyes still kind. "Good." he remarked, taking his phone from his pocket. I watched him type something on his phone underneath my lashes, until he pocketed the sleek phone once more.

"Theo's waiting at the entrance." he passed on, running his fingers along his sharp jawline, his smokey sounding voice making me shudder.

"Thank you, Mister." I beamed and wiggled my bottom off the couch. I scurried across the room and opened the door.

I stopped myself before I closed the door. Remembering my manners, I poked my head back inside the door, and saw Chairman Jeon lick along his bottom lip, observing me in amusement.

"Bye, Mister! I hope you have a good night! And thank you!" I cheered, about to close the door – when I gasped once more. I poked my head back inside the room, "Oh – and I hope you sleep well! Goodnight!" I waved happily, feeling more at ease in the presence of Chairman Jeon.

The last thing I heard before closing the door, was his throaty chuckle.

author's note ; ✨

Solaris is so cute 😭😭🥹 I love her so much ❤️✨ As always, thank you so much for reading and enjoy!

#jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #wattpad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook angst #ceo #solaris #nepenthes

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phoebus-cluster · 6 months

Text

A sample/oneshot of some Astarion headcanon re: his release after the year in a tomb

Finally gaining some steam on my Astarion fic. Fleshed out a little flashback scene. Hope you think it's cool, I love my angst and exposition. --- “How I’ve missed you, little one!”

There was a sudden, loud crack against the coffin door, the rustle of chain mail. A single, impossible ray of light sprung forth into the coffin, somewhere at his waist’s height. Out of the corner of his eye, he detected the glint of an axehead in the fresh opening, wedged and wriggling now to pry the lid open. He tried to peer downwards to better watch, but couldn't–his eyes were too dry to swivel in their sockets.

He blinked a few times to remove the film of dust from his eyeballs. It did nothing.

He could hardly hold a coherent thought, but felt that this must have been a dream.

The coffin lid ripped open and he keeled forward, the door no longer propping him upright. He crumpled in a heap, reality dawning on him as his face smacked into the ground. He lay there and watched the shadows of crackling firelight dance across the stone tiles for a while.

He was free.

He supposed he should have been happy. He gasped for fresh air weakly, as fresh as those musty catacombs could be.

A heavy boot dug into his gut and turned him onto his back. He now looked at a grinning skull looming over him, yellowed, shining and ugly, two black voids regarding him like eyes.

Death. Sweet release. Could it be?

“Tsk, tsk, boy. Is this how you greet your gallant savior? Your dear, old friend Godey?”

But of course.

Of course it wasn’t death. What had he expected?

Godey’s detestable laugh rang through the chamber around them.

“What a state, little one. Not so pretty now, are we? Not to worry. I think this look quite suits you.”

Godey seized him by his rags and hoisted him up with ease. He carried him now, up the stone steps of the catacombs and back into the palace.

Astarion's head hung limply, mouth agape, no energy, his muscles all but wasted away. The skeleton cackled again, adjusting and jostling the half-corpse in its arms–playing with him.

“Much easier than I recall,” he jested. “Why, you must be half the weight you were goin’ in.”

They clanked through the halls past velvet drapery, gaudy paintings, lacquered paneling, the luxe prison he remembered, same as ever.

“By the gods, Godey,” sneered a distant voice. “What is that smell? Fouler than any rat you’ve conjured for us before.”

“Shut it, Violet,” growled Godey. “Be a dear and call in your siblings, won’t you?”

She scoffed and whisked away.

They made their way to the spawn’s quarters as the other vamplings trickled in curiously, peering over Godey’s armor to better see the dust-blackened wretch he carried.

The skeleton unceremoniously flung him onto a bunk, the fellow spawn frozen in terror as they beheld a pathetically emaciated mummy with sunken eyes, taut skin, and dehydrated ligaments clinging to bone, grotesque as it pulsed and gasped for breath, struggling to writhe and smearing filth on the sheets.

A hush fell upon them all.

“...Brother?” whispered Aurelia.

“He lives!” cried a male voice, one Astarion did not recognize. “Gods above, it can not be. This is the lost brother you spoke of? I-I thought Master was perhaps bluffing!”

“Leave it to you, Petras, to fancy yourself more clever than Master,” chided Godey. “That’s right. Gather round, you lot, and gaze upon him. Yes, it is your beloved and terribly naughty big brother. Though he strikes a more uncanny resemblance to old Godey these days, don’t you think?”

He cackled and wrenched Astarion’s chin violently, turning his face for the others to see.

Dalyria stifled a revolted shriek, teary-eyed as she clapped her palm over her mouth.

"Let it be a reminder, then," continued Godey. "See what happens when you fail Master's orders? And still, it is Master's mercy that reunites him with us today."

Astarion finally found the will to speak.

He struggled, his lips shriveled back, his tongue desiccated and stuck to the roof of his mouth. Dust coated the insides of his throat.

His teeth finally found the edge of his lower lip, shrunken and tough.

“Fff…” he trembled.

He drew in more air, his breath ragged and hoarse. It sounded like a death rattle.

“Fuck you,” he puffed at Godey.

There was an upsetting crack as the pommel of Godey's sword collided with the side of his head. A few of the vamplings gasped.

“Dalyria, tend to this ingrate. Godey doesn’t need a nose to tell he’s more fetid than carrion.” He turned on his heel and clanked away.

“Ilmater, help us all,” uttered Dal. “For the love of gods, draw a bath. Water, some blood, this instant!”

---

Hoping to get chapter 1 out in the next week or so.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #work in progress #wip #astarion fanfic #it's giving aftermath of cask of amontillado i hope #ao3 #angst #astarion #astarion bg3 #petras #dalyria #violet #godey #my work

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newyorkthegoldenage · 4 months

Text

Seeing in The New York Times the photograph of Helen Keller in the Observation Tower of the Empire State Building, I [Dr. John H. Finley] wrote her asking her what she really “saw” from that height. This remarkable letter written by her came in answer and was published in The New York Times Magazine. It will be agreed by all who read it that, as she said, she “beheld a brighter prospect than my friends with two good eyes.”

January 13, 1932 Dear Dr. Finley:

After many days and many tribulations which are inseparable from existence here below, I sit down to the pleasure of writing to you and answering your delightful question, “What Did You Think ‘of the Sight’ When You Were on the Top of the Empire Building?”

Frankly, I was so entranced “seeing” that I did not think about the sight. If there was a subconscious thought of it, it was in the nature of gratitude to God for having given the blind seeing minds. As I now recall the view I had from the Empire Tower, I am convinced that, until we have looked into darkness, we cannot know what a divine thing vision is.

Perhaps I beheld a brighter prospect than my companions with two good eyes. Anyway, a blind friend gave me the best description I had of the Empire Building until I saw it myself.

Do I hear you reply, “I suppose to you it is a reasonable thesis that the universe is all a dream, and that the blind only are awake?” Y—es—no doubt I shall be left at the Last Day on the other bank defending the incredible prodigies of the unseen world, and, more incredible still, the strange grass and skies the blind behold are greener grass and bluer skies than ordinary eyes see. I will concede that my guides saw a thousand things that escaped me from the top of the Empire Building, but I am not envious. For imagination creates distances and horizons that reach to the end of the world. It is as easy for the mind to think in stars as in cobble-stones. Sightless Milton dreamed visions no one else could see. Radiant with an inward light, he sent forth rays by which mankind beholds the realms of Paradise.

But what of the Empire Building? It was a thrilling experience to be whizzed in a “lift” a quarter of a mile heavenward, and to see New York spread out like a marvellous tapestry beneath us. There was the Hudson—more like the flash of a sword-blade than a noble river. The little island of Manhattan, set like a jewel in its nest of rainbow waters, stared up into my face, and the solar system circled about my head! Why, I thought, the sun and the stars are suburbs of New York, and I never knew it! I had a sort of wild desire to invest in a bit of real estate on one of the planets. All sense of depression and hard times vanished, I felt like being frivolous with the stars. But that was only for a moment. I am too static to feel quite natural in a Star View cottage on the Milky Way, which must be something of a merry-go-round even on quiet days.

I was pleasantly surprised to find the Empire Building so poetical. From everyone except my blind friend I had received an impression of sordid materialism—the piling up of one steel honeycomb upon another with no real purpose but to satisfy the American craving for the superlative in everything. A Frenchman has said, in his exalted moments the American fancies himself a demigod, nay, a god; for only gods never tire of the prodigious. The highest, the largest, the most costly is the breath of his vanity.

Well, I see in the Empire Building something else—passionate skill, arduous and fearless idealism. The tallest building is a victory of imagination. Instead of crouching close to earth like a beast, the spirit of man soars to higher regions, and from this new point of vantage he looks upon the impossible with fortified courage and dreams yet more magnificent enterprises.

What did I “see and hear” from the Empire Tower? As I stood there ’twixt earth and sky, I saw a romantic structure wrought by human brains and hands that is to the burning eye of the sun a rival luminary. I saw it stand erect and serene in the midst of storm and the tumult of elemental commotion. I heard the hammer of Thor ring when the shaft began to rise upward. I saw the unconquerable steel, the flash of testing flames, the sword-like rivets. I heard the steam drills in pandemonium. I saw countless skilled workers welding together that mighty symmetry. I looked upon the marvel of frail, yet indomitable hands that lifted the tower to its dominating height.

Let cynics and supersensitive souls say what they will about American materialism and machine civilization. Beneath the surface are poetry, mysticism and inspiration that the Empire Building somehow symbolizes. In that giant shaft I see a groping toward beauty and spiritual vision. I am one of those who see and yet believe.

I hope I have not wearied you with my “screed” about sight and seeing. The length of this letter is a sign of long, long thoughts that bring me happiness.

I am, with every good wish for the New Year,

Sincerely yours, Helen Keller

Top photo: Times Wide World Photos/Letters of Note Bottom photo: Associated Press

#vintage New York #1930s #Helen Keller #Empire State Building #Empire State Bldg.#Jan. 13 #13 Jan.#blind #deaf #imagination #seeing blind #how blind see #idealism #materialism #American materialism

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sigyns-drafts · 2 months

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Hi, again! Luv what you did for my request with Marie Antoinette! Reader! I love how you characterised her and how she interacted with others, notably Jack!

Hope it wouldn't be too much of a bother for me to request Amphitrite! Reader with Poseidon, sort of a re-imagining of their marriage story where Amphitrite is an elegant, diplomatic queen, and yet literally the only thing keeping Poseidon from drowning humanity entirely/not having the seas in war with other gods?

I imagine Trite and him originally met during the Titanomachy, where she was sided with her dad Oceanus, and later met again in the actual marriage myth. I'd also especially love to request the part in the myth where Poseidon couldn't rizz her up himself, so he sent every sea creature to do it for him, and she goes, not because they were convincing, but because she wanted him to do it himself.

I wish you the best, take care of yourself, and keep doing what you do! 😊

A/N: Hello and thank you so much for even suggesting it in the first place! It was a blast to give her some characteristics with what you gave me and put her next to different characters. Jack was the cherry on top~ 🤭

You already know the answer~ I'd gladly write about your wonderful Amphitrite! I wish you the same back, take care of yourself and as always, love your art work and I hope you enjoy✨💕

A Love Forged in the Depths 🌊❤+💙

➩ In the shimmering depths of the vast sea, where the currents weave tales of old, resided the regal domain of Poseidon, the tempestuous god of the oceans. Yet, beneath the tumultuous waves, there awaited a woman upon Poseidons arrival home.

It was Amphitrite, the elegant queen whose grace would temper with Poseidon's wrath as it often did! Soon enough bringing back the couple back down memories lane.

➩ Reader type: Amphitrite!reader x Poseidon

⚠: A bunch of romantic fluff and teasing!

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue upon the waters, Amphitrite awaited Poseidon's return to their coral-laden palace.

Her dark skin glistened under the iridescent glow, and her red eyes held depths as unfathomable as the ocean itself. With each graceful movement of her dark mermaid tail, she exuded a sense of regality and power.

As Poseidon emerged from the depths, his trident gleaming with a fierce light, Amphitrite approached him with a gentle yet resolute demeanor.

"Welcome home, my lord," she greeted, her voice a melody that calmed even the wildest of storms.

"I trust your ventures were successful~?"

Poseidon's gaze softened as he beheld his queen, the one who held sway over his heart like no other woman.

"Indeed, they were, my darling Amphitrite." he replied, his voice filled with genuine feelings of happiness to be with his love once more, but he was hiding something behind those dark blue eyes.

"But, the affairs of the sea are ever tumultuous, and my patience wears thin on these mortals.."

Amphitrite raises an eyebrow at his words, confused on what the mortals could've possibly done now. She placed a comforting hand on Poseidon's arm, her touch soothing the storm within him.

"I understand your frustrations, my love.." she said, her words a balm to his troubled spirit.

"But please remember, it is through rational thinking and restraint from your anger that we maintain balance in the world right?"

Poseidon grunted, his gaze drifting towards the distant horizon where mortals sailed upon the waves.

"Humanity tests my patience at every turn.." he growled, his grip tightening on his trident.

"They pollute my waters, plunder my depths, and show no respect for the power I wield."

Amphitrite nodded understandingly, her eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, they may be reckless and foolish at times," she conceded. "But they are also capable of great beauty and ingenuity. We must guide them, not punish them."

Poseidon sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly under Amphitrite's gentle persuasion.

"You speak wisdom, my queen. I'll think about this..." he admitted, his voice softer now.

"Perhaps I have been too quick to anger, too eager to unleash the fury of the sea.."

Amphitrite smirked, her radiant presence illuminating the darkness that threatened to consume them both.

"Exactly, together, we can achieve great things, my love~" Amphitrite said, her words a promise of unity and strength.

Poseidon took Amphitrite's hand in his own, the roughness of his touch softened by the tenderness in his eyes. He pulls her closer to himself, grabbing her waist.

"You are the anchor that holds me steady~" he confessed, chuckling under his breath. "Remember the day we first met?"

Amphitrite blushed and couldn't help but grin, biting her lip at the excitement Poseidon was expressing.

"Who do you take me for my king, of course I would remember such a embarrassing day upon your behalf, hehe~"

Once upon a time, amidst the chaos of the Titanomachy, where the Greek gods waged war against their predecessors.

Poseidon had first laid eyes upon Amphitrite here, as Oceanus's daughter and not his wife.

She fought alongside her father, her strength matched only by her elegance and diplomatic prowess.

Intrigued by her beauty and resilience, Poseidon sought to win her affections.

Yet, despite his attempts to charm her, Amphitrite remained steadfast, unmoved by his advances especially after this war.

Remaining loyal to her people and father! Unwilling to concede defeat, Poseidon devised a plan on a way to win her heart somehow.

Even if it took sending forth every sea creature under his command, from the majestic whales, to the playful dolphins.

Poseidon tasked them with persuading Amphitrite to accept his courtship. But unbeknownst to him, Amphitrite saw through his ruse, recognizing his reluctance to approach her directly.

It caused the woman great amusement that he wanted her so badly, but didn't dare set a foot before her.

One fateful day, as the ocean stirred with anticipation, Amphitrite decided to visit Poseidons domain and confronted him.

"Poseidon, god of the sea, why do you hide behind your creations?"

Poseidon, taken aback by her boldness to just enter so uncalled for caused his heart to skip a beat of panic. As he gazed upon her with newfound admiration.

"If your heart truly yearns for mine, then let your words be your own, not whispered through the mouths of creatures~"

The woman winks at him, about to turn away and leave, but Poseidon saw his chance and took it bravely!

"Amphitrite, daughter of Oceanus please wait! Your grace surpasses that of the ocean's depths, your wisdom and words are the most impressive things I've heard..!"

Amphitrite stops in her tracks, her red eyes shimmering with curiosity at what came next. A smug grin formed on her lips.

"Oh, is that so Poseidon~?"

"Yes! It is true..I have sought to win your favor through the sea's creatures, fearing rejection. But now, I stand before you vulnerable and sincere, asking for your hand in marriage.."

Finally the god of the ocean had said it, he had admitted to what had been so clear as running water, his true feelings and intentions for sending every creature in the sea to catch Amphitrite's attention.

"Poseidon," she replied, her voice soft yet resolute.

"Your sincerity brings me more enjoyment than any gesture orchestrated by you to win my heart. I accept your proposal, not because it was convincing but that you finally said it to my face, handsome~"

And so, beneath the starlit canopy of the ocean's depths, Poseidon and Amphitrite soon exchanged vows of love for each other, their union a testament to the enduring power of genuine affection and mutual respect.

As husband and wife, they were now both rulers of the sea and all its creatures, the same ones Poseidon had used to try winning Amphitrite's affection!

#writing #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #romantic fluff #romantic #reader x canon #ror poseidon #snv poseidon #amphitrite x poseidon #amphitrite #teasing #im feeling romantical #🥴

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lychniis · 1 year

Text

― PINK AND RED CAMELLIA.

zhongli | rex lapis x reader

“you are a flame in my heart.” + “you’re adorable.” + fluff.

WARNING(S) : FINALLY some fluff?????? WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?????? might be a bit suggestive depending on how you read it, and just ugh, just a lot of domesticity overall. i'm not as pleased with the quality of this writing jhgvvhj might rewrite this later.

#main masterlist | flos anthalogy masterlist

ZHONGLI’S GAZE WAS AN INTENSE one. It was hard to deny it, the weight it held, the seeming agelessness and the years of his life beheld in a body seemingly too young. Zhongli’s stare was penetrating and it was stern ( unyielding and solid, like the reflection of geo itself ) and even so, it still holds a soft gentleness when it beholds you.

How paradoxical, you think with amusement. You knew Zhongli’s gaze well. You were subjected to it, sometimes for hours and sometimes for those few fleeting moments of quiet intimacy, shared in the silence of his office, or at home or within the bustle of Liyue’s streets ( like the two of you were a pair, a married couple already, so happily in love ).

He stares at you now over his teacup while your fingers trace the spine of one of his books. The action is delicate, graceful and when you hear the clink of ceramic, you look up to meet it with your lips twitching at the corners. He does not shy away, nor does he avert his eyes, his head tilted languidly almost shamelessly taking you and all of your entirety in. You find yourself growing shy.

He smiles.

“Would you like more tea?” you ask, trying to ease yourself and the blood rushing to your cheeks. It was hard not to feel for Zhongli’s tenderness ( it was hard not to feel anything, really ) and he exhales, his finger curling, beckoning you closer.

You walk up to him. He sets you on his lap and moves the collar of your shirt aside to kiss the nape of your neck. It is an innocent gesture, followed by him resting his chin on your shoulder, with contentment dancing at his fingertips and lining his face.

His lashes brush against your cheek and his touch is warm, ever so warm, like the nicer days in summer, where it was cool enough for the heat to tingle against your skin pleasantly.

“That can be arranged later.” he rumbles and you feel the humor in his chest. You wonder what he finds so amusing. “Hm, you seem shy, love. Am I acting inappropriately now?”

How cruel, you internally grumble, sensing the teasing lilt and the rare moments where Zhongli lets some parts of his affectionate playfulness show. “Of course not!” you counter quickly — a bit too quick. He chuckles. “Ah! What’s so funny now? Don’t leave me out of the joke.”

Your weight shifts and you face him now, his lips pressing against your cheek. “It’s hardly a joke. I find you adorable is all.”

“Just adorable?” you grin. Zhongli blinks, then kisses your lips.

“Adorable…and ravishing and kind…and darling…” he pauses, his pecks grazing down your chin and over your jaw, his voice dripping out sweet tempered compliments between every careful graze. Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into him, his chest, a sigh slipping out. He finally kisses your temple “...and mine…” he finishes.

“Thank you.” you whisper, a few stray giggles escaping. You feel light, like you were sinking into a sea of clouds and Zhongli cradles you as you did, careful not to let you fall any farther than you must.

You knew this feeling, this sense of comfort and love and affection. And when your hand slips over his heart and you hear the thundering beat against his ribcage, you know he feels no different.

Zhongli strokes your cheek. “No, thank you.” he intones sweetly. “Thank you for being mine.”

His eyes crinkle at the corner and you watch hard gold melt into warm honey.

❪⠀🎬⠀❫ AINE SPEAKS ;;

requested by : @dustofthedailylife

hgvfcvbnmjnb listened to 'the chain' while listening this and i might have paused all writing just to scream out the guitar solo's tune heaven help me. but KJHGFDCVBN SOFT LI SOFT LI AFTER SO MUCH ANGST.

taglist — @x-zho, @dustofthedailylife, @deus-lapidis, @silentmoths, @nebulaera, @aestellia, @ofoceansandtombsanew, @meimeimeirin.

#FLOS ANTHALOGY - 100 FOLLOWER EVENT #&&. my writing !!#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin impact x reader #morax x reader #rex lapis x reader #x reader

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mimisempai · 9 months

Text

The proof of their love is everywhere

Summary

Muriel knows what love is, they had read a lot about it.

But when they hear Maggie and Nina comment that it's too obvious that Aziraphale and Crowley are in love, they realize they knows nothing.

Thanks to Maggie, they now have a checklist and will be able to check and look for evidence of the love between the angel and the demon.

Notes

Muriel is learning…

On Ao3

Rating G - 1560 words

Muriel took a sip of their hot chocolate, once again marveling at the smooth, sweet taste and the warmth it spread through their body.

Their eyes were drawn to a commotion on the street, and they couldn't help but smile when they saw that it was Aziraphale and Grumpy, who were once again bickering after getting out of the car and walking to the bookshop.

With their notebook in hand, they approached the two women and asked, "I know what it means to be in love because I've read about it, but how can you tell just by looking at them?"

The two women looked back at them, smiling, and Maggie replied gently, "Oh, Muriel, there are many signs, and I'm sure if you think about it, you must have seen some, like special care to each other, how they look at each other in a special way, how they have a special closeness, how they share special moments together, when they have attitudes that show they trust each other, tender gestures, special ways of touching each other that convey their special bond. No book can teach you that, sweetie, you know it when you see it with your own eyes, and I'm pretty sure you've caught moments like that before, you just weren't aware of their meaning."

Muriel's pen raced across their notebook, and with a nod of thanks to Maggie, they returned to their table and looked over the checklist they'd just created, trying to remember anything that might have told them something about the special bond between the angel and the demon.

**********

Sitting on the floor between two bookshelves one evening, lost in Persuasion, they hadn't immediately noticed that Crowley had entered the bookstore.

It was only when they heard him talking to Aziraphale that they became aware of his presence.

"Angel, your tea's cold again. And I see the cup is exactly where I left it before I got away."

"Don't be angry, my dear, I-"

Crowle interrupted, "You were engrossed in that manuscript and didn't see the time pass. Come on, give me your cup, I'll make you a fresh one."

"Crowlay, wait, come here."

Muriel got up and walked along the row of books. Now, from where they stood, they could see the angel and the demon between the books.

Aziraphale had grabbed Crowley's hand and was pulling him toward him, forcing him to bend over. He kissed the demon gently on the mouth before saying softly, "Thank you for taking care of me, my dear."

Muriel then saw an expression on the demon's face that they had never seen before. His smile was so soft that they couldn't take their eyes off it, so mesmerized were they.

The demon then put his arms around the angel's neck and Muriel knew it was time for them to leave discreetly.

**********

Snapping out of their thoughts, Muriel took a sip of hot chocolate and checked off two items on their list

Special glances ✔︎

Special care ✔︎

**********

"I knew you'd do me good at some way at some time. I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you."

When Muriel entered the shop where they had left their current book, they were surprised to hear Aziraphale's voice reading aloud while he was away from his desk. Tiptoeing forward so as not to be noticed, they hid behind one of the columns and peered curiously into the corner where the voice came from.

Crowley was lying on the sofa, his head in Aziraphale's lap. The angel had one hand in the demon's hair as the other hand was holding a book.

Crowley said quietly: "Wait, I know that line, I've heard it before. I haven't read it, but I've heard it."

"Jane Eyre..." Aziraphale replied as he continued to run his fingers through the red hair. Which, judging by his expression, the demon seemed to appreciate.

"Sure, I remember, I saw this movie from the '90s, I think with William Hurt. And even though it was sometimes a bit long, it wasn't too bad. Not my cup of tea, but not unpleasant either. I prefer the movies of Richard Curtis, which are much more effective. A little rain and Vavoom"

Aziraphale chuckled slightly, "I think you've already told me about that..."

"Hey, don't make fun. If the canopy hadn't cracked under the weight of the water, Maggie and Nina would have been together before your little ball."

Aziraphale patted Crowley on the nose and replied, "Considering our joint inefficiency, we'll call it a draw."

Crowley hummed and Aziraphale was about to resume his reading when he stopped and said quietly, "You know, you remind me of Jane.”

"Austen?"

"Don't be silly. Jane Eyre."

Crowley sneered, "Me? Really, Aziraphale, I think I'll put that in the top ten of the funniest things you've ever said to me."

Aziraphale took a slightly offended tone and replied, "It wasn't a joke. I knew you'd do me some good someday. I saw it in your eyes when I first saw you. I saw it in your eyes the first time I saw you, even though I tried to ignore it afterwards. And if we look at our history, my dear, that is indeed the case, isn't it?"

From Crowley's silence, Muriel could clearly see that the angel's words had hit the nail on the head. After a few moments of silence, Crowley rolled onto his back, looked at Aziraphale, then raised his hand and placed it on Aziraphale's cheek, saying softly, ""Sometimes I have the strangest feeling about you... Especially when you're near, like now. It's feel as though I had a string tied here, under my rib, where my heart is. Tightly knotted to you... in a similar fashion. When I watched the movie, when Edward Rochester says these words to Jane, I thought of you. Even when we were separated for long periods of time, I knew you were in there somewhere, but I was always afraid that one day heaven would separate you from me for good and break that bond forever."

When Muriel saw Aziraphale take Crowley's hand on his cheek and kiss his palm, they picked up their forgotten book from the small table and left as they had come.

"Never, my dear. Nothing, not even heaven, will come between us."

Those were the last words Muriel heard as they closed the door.

Once again snapped out of their thoughts, Muriel saw that a plate of muffins had appeared next to their hot chocolate. They turned their heads toward the counter where Nina winked at them.

Muriel grabbed a muffin and savored it before picking up their pen and checking off new items.

Special Closeness ✔︎

Sharing Special Moments ✔︎

Special Touches ✔︎

*********

Muriel had not had the opportunity to see Crowley in his snake form. They knew he could change shape, Aziraphale had described him enthusiastically, raving about his colors and all, but they had never seen him with their own eyes. So they were naturally surprised to find him curled up in the red armchair when they entered the bookshop with the record Maggie had entrusted to them for Aziraphale.

They were about to take a closer look when Aziraphale appeared next to the snake and leaned over. Suddenly, the snake began to transform, but Aziraphale stopped him, "Crowley, you're not bothering me, if you want to stay in your snake form, I really don't mind."

And as Crowley returned to his snake form, Aziraphale sat down on the sofa and patted his knees.

Muriel watched in fascination as the little black and red snake crawled to Aziraphale's knees, where it curled up. Aziraphale then gently stroked its head and said quietly, "Today is one of those days, isn't it?"

The little snake hissed before curling up even more against the angel's hand as he continued his gentle caresses and spoke soothingly to him. "Crowley, we've talked about this. Don't force yourself on my account. You have the right not to want to do anything. Not to know what to do. It takes time, and we have time."

The angel leaned over and placed a light kiss on the snake's head before continuing to caress it gently, repeating words of comfort and encouragement over and over again.

Muriel looked at them for a few moments, wondering how to describe their feelings at this scene.

Back in reality, with a little more knowledge, Muriel realized with clarity what they'd seen that day and were able to check off the last two items on their list.

Acceptance ✔︎

Trust ✔︎

All the items on their checklist had been checked off.

Proof, black on white, that Aziraphale and Crowley were truly in love.

"Now that you know, you're going to see it all the time. It's almost disgusting."

Nina had just sat down across from them.

Muriel shook their head. They doubted they would find it disgusting. They felt in their heart that it was something really good. They emptied their cup, thanked Nina for the hot chocolate, the cakes and the explanations, and decided to return to the bookshop. They had a job to complete, and who knew, they might yet witness the love of the angel and the demon.

They hoped so.

For it was a love that was good to live around.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

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haru-natsuka · 2 years

Text

Secrets (Kalim al-Asim x Reader)

Genre: Romance

Your future child rant in front of you and Kalim about the little secrets he beheld all this time...

(As per usual, the photo is not mine. It belongs to its rightful owner. If anyone knows who is the person, feel free to let me know)

"Mama, do you know papa has been in loved with mama since papa first saw mama. Papa also loved to collect gifts for mama every day. Papa even ranted out his feelings to Uncle Jamil often. Papa always imagines having mama by his side and visiting papa's dormitory only."

"Really! That's new information to me, my sweet little child." You eyed the once full-of-life male in front of you only to see his flush face that even turned the same tone as his ruby eyes.

"Y-Y/N I- I ummm it's clearly- not what you ummm think it is..."

"Don't lie papa. I even record everything in the voice recorder you gave me recently." He never expected a kid, his future child with you, to flow out every secret he tried hard to keep all this time. However, seeing the child's happiness as she spent her sweet time with you and you kept on playing along with the little energetic girl who could match his energy did melt his heart into liquid.

Apparently, as you both were talking about random topics, a young girl around five suddenly appeared out of nowhere and claimed both of you to be her mother and father. At first, both of you went into immediate silence to digest the new information thrown on your face which took some moments before it sank in completely and shyness took both of your calm composure away. The young girl could only blinked in wonder with the sudden shift of behaviour of her parent. Her parent used to be very affectionate with each other and did nothing to hide the fact but why her mama and papa looked everywhere and never at each other?

It could be said the two of you were pretty closed and quite comfortable with each other but the thought of being more than a friend never really occurred in both of your minds and yet the thought of it could be turned out quite pleasant and implement some hope? in their hearts to perhaps proceeds a little more with your relationship or the cute girl who laid comfortably in your laps would not come to exist. We could not let that happen, could we?

He could even dare to picture the grown, much more mature him and you, taking care of your own little family. He must fall in love with you for every second passed as even now his heart jittered upon the sight beheld in front of him, you just look motherly like so wife material. Just when did your lips look more tempting than usual? Perhaps he could take a closer look to it for the answer and he might be lucky if something more happen. Let's keep it a secret from you now and of course his future child too.

Other Scarabia's one-shots :

Fascinated (Jamil Viper x Female Reader)

Confusion (Kalim Al Asim x Female Reader x Jamil Viper)

#twised wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x you #kalim x reader #kalim x y/n #kalim twst #kalim twisted wonderland #romance #twst #twst x you #twst x mc #twst kalim #scarabia x reader #scarabia #twst wonderland

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