#Plus the falling out of the sky one that they created | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reiderwriter · 8 months

Text

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds smut #So much plot #maturereiding

3K notes · View notes

keyotos · 1 year

Text

kiss the girl

summary ⎯ five times dan heng has thought about kissing you, and the one time he actually does.

tana's words ⎯ i've been recently listening to kiss the girl (ashley tisdale version) and its cute and made me think of dan heng. and idk if this follows canon story or not bc im not at xianzhou yet lolz.

also ik the title says 'kiss the girl' but that's only bc i was listening to the song. reader is gender neutral.

tags ⎯ friends to lovers. pining i think. hurt and comfort (at the end). flustered dan heng. fluff i think.

THE FIRST TIME dan heng thinks about kissing you, he immediately pushes away the thought. it was out of character; it was outrageous for him to think of a friend that way. it made him feel perverted for even thinking of the action.

it was a sunny day. you two (plus march and stelle) were in belobog at the time and you guys were witnessing bronya's speech. all of you agreed the speech was marvelous, and you all felt a sense of pride for bronya.

your eyes were sparkling in the sun as you watched bronya speak, and dan heng couldn't help but become enamoured by your face. he looked away from his paper to peek at your awed expression.

at that moment, dan heng thought you were the most beautiful person he's ever seen. but he can't think that. he cannot. not only were you a fellow trailblazer, but you were also his friend. he couldn't risk one of his greatest friendships over something as minimal as this.

so, he pushed the thought out of his brain. he thought that it would be gone forever, but he was deeply wrong.

THE SECOND TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you occured while you two were gazing in the astral express. by this time, you two have left belobog, and are awaiting your next journey.

you chose to pass the time by 'star-watching,' a new term you created as a substitute to cloud watching. the activity is similar to cloud watching as you point out shapes that make beings.

dan heng told you that you were just pointing out constellations, you said that you wanted to pass on the technicalities.

so now, you two were star-watching. you kept pointing out absurd patterns, such as, "this one looks like svarog," (it did not) and, "this one looks like balls." of course, none of the constellations looked like either of the comparisons (dan heng was thinking about taking you to the eye doctor), but dan heng played along anyway. anything to make you smile.

at one point, the absurdities stopped, and you began pointing out real constellations. so many beautiful creations in the sky, yet the real beautiful thing was right next to him, continuously pointing out constellations.

you rested your head on your hand, mindlessly gazing out at the empty field of stars in front of you, "it's beautiful."

"yeah," dan heng mindlessly replies, not even realizing what he's just said, "it is," he finally says, looking at you.

maybe it's the light from the stars hitting your face, or maybe it was just your radiant beauty, but the urge to kiss you came up once again. subconsciously, dan heng knew the feeling would arise sooner or later. but that didn't mean he liked the feeling.

he wants to preserve your friendship so bad; but sometimes, the line drawn alongside friendship and love begins to thin. sometimes, the line gets so thin that dan heng fears that he'll trip and fall into you.

THE THIRD TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was when you two were hanging out in his room. over the span of months, dan heng has learned to appreciate your being, and sometimes (he will never admit this) he feels calmer around you.

usually, dan heng didn't let other people be in his room, but it was different with you. for some reason, he liked it when you were in his room. sometimes, he finds himself wanting you to be in his room.

he was quietly sorting through his data bank while you were reading. it was such a calm and quiet moment; dan heng felt peace for once. there was music playing softly in the back, the room was silent, and the air was just right. it felt nice.

dan heng was too tuned into his data bank that he didn't hear footsteps coming up closer to him. it was only when he turned his head to check on you, that dan heng noticed you were right next to him.

you were right next to him, head nearly leaning on his shoulder, and you were so close to him. dan heng's heart was about to beat out of his chest, and he began to worry about the warmth that was rapidly spreading to his neck.

when you noticed dan heng's reaction, you thought you'd surprised him. you moved a little bit back, "sorry, did i scare you?"

"no, not at all. i was just a little startled," dan heng replied while rubbing the back of his (reddening) neck.

"that's like, the same thing as scared," you gave a low chuckle and moved closer to him once again, "you would know this."

"dunno," dan heng paused, "maybe i was too frightened to remember." when you laughed at that, dan heng swore he blushed all the way up to his ears.

"you are not funny," you gave him a slight shove that didn't really affect him. you leaned closer into the database, "what are you doing?"

you didn't realize how close you were to dan heng, your faces nearly touching. you were scrolling around his data bank while dan heng was trying to hide his rampant blush from your eyes.

dan heng stared at you while you browsed, taking in your close presence. you didn't seem nearly as tense as he did. you were relaxed, comfortable, you leaned into him. dan heng found himself staring longer than normal.

then, the thought, came in. the same recurring thought he'd been having for a long time: the thought to kiss you. he wanted to take you by the hands and pull you closer to him. he wanted to feel your palms and he wanted to feel you closer to him.

and this is the moment were dan heng realizes that he wants to be more than friends. dan heng realizes that he likes you; he wants you to be with him, he wants to feel you by his side. he wants endless star-watching nights; he wants to see you constantly.

and that is dangerous. not only would that ruin your friendship, but it would also endanger you. there's so much that would put you at risk.

"you should go back to your room," dan heng puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to look back up at him. your confused expression almost shatters dan heng's resilience, but he goes on, "it's late. go get some rest."

you keep the hand on your shoulder, "you too. don't stay up too late, okay?" the soft tone of your voice makes dan heng melt, and he almost wants to pull you back and ask you to stay. almost.

dan heng nods and you leave. he leans back on his desk and puts his head in his hands. what is he going to do?

THE FOURTH TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was the night you arrived in the xianzhou. you (and march and stelle) were exploring the city and it's wonders while dan heng was treading carefully behind you.

you haven't had a full conversation with dan heng for days. you assume it was probably because you were snooping around his data bank, but he has never minded that before. you haven't got an actual chance to apologize either, because for some reason, dan heng is now constantly busy.

the four of you decided that you would split up to look around. march immediately went to stelle, so that left you with dan heng.

dan heng knew this would happen. he couldn't avoid you for too long anyway, even if he tried. he would always end up gravitating back towards you.

it pained him to not talk to you. he missed your voice, your jokes, your little touches. he missed your book talks, he missed the way you'd always be in his room, he even missed your nosiness.

you and dan heng were aimlessly strolling around the streets until you found a lively street parlor. they were selling food, and the aroma was absolutely divine. dan heng knew you immediately caught your mind on something when he saw your beaming face.

you still haven't found a correct time to apologize to dan heng, but that can wait for later. you just wanted to talk to him. "dan heng! we should try some," you beamed.

"okay. i'll wait over here," dan heng monotonously replied. your smile slightly faltered, dan heng thought the sight to be excruciating.

he couldn't still be mad at you, right? you had to apologize soon, because this silent is agonizing. you couldn't help the fact that you missed dan heng. you missed late nights and his warm touch. you missed his sarcasm and his gentle nature.

when you returned, you brought back one giant kebab that dan heng knew you couldn't finish. you'd probably have enough to share with the entire express.

when you took a bite of the kebab, you moaned with delight, and dan heng forgot how much he missed your smile. it all came rushing back to him, all the things he missed about you. you are right here, in his grasp, yet he still cannot have you.

after your first bite, you offered a second bite to dan heng. etiquette was all out of the picture when you were there.

originally, dan heng wasn't planning to eat. there were lots of problems at hand, and dan heng could not relax now. but you were an obstacle in his equation. how could he refuse you when you were practically bouncing on your toes, smiling, and looking at him with such mirthful eyes. saying no to you was like refusing a blessing from the aeons.

he took a bite out of the kebab, to which he nodded in delight. dan heng finished chewing with a delighted expression on his face, and your smile appeared once again. dan heng felt his lips creep up, and sooner or later, he was smiling as well.

he looked down at your happy expression, and he noticed that you had food on the corner of your mouth. dan heng usually scolded you for being slightly messy, but in this tender moment, there was no need.

dan hen grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and wiped the corner off your mouth off. he wiped the food off so tenderly that you would think he was tending to something delicate and fragile. and the gaze he gave you after. you nearly passed out. dan heng looked at you with such fondness and love that you gripped the kebab harder.

his mind hadn't registered what he just did before you quietly said, "thank you."

dan heng nearly malfunctioned. what he just did was criminal. it was a simple thing, however it was most criminal to dan heng. during that moment, all he could think of was your lips on his. the tenderness of his touch was his mind projecting how he would cup your face when you two kissed. all of it felt so wrong, but so right.

"no problem," dan heng blushed and avoided your eyes. "do you... do you think we should meet back up with march and stelle?"

"yeah," you looked down at the ground, slightly flustered, "yeah. let's go."

things were awkward. but at least things were okay. and that was all that mattered to you.

MARCH 7TH HAD speculations. you and dan heng were like a pair. you two were a dynamic duo, second to march and stelle, of course. you would always be seen with each other. when march "accidentally" stumbles into dan heng's room, you'd be somewhere in there as well.

so, why is it that whenever march barges into dan heng's room, you aren't there? why are you not with him? why is he "constantly busy" when he there is nothing to store in the data bank? something was up, and march was determined to find out what was happening.

"don't you think it's weird that we never see dan heng and yn together anymore?" march asked stelle while sipping on juice.

stelle huffed, "i mean, it's a little weird. but maybe they're both exhausted. we just got out of belobog and now we're facing more conflict in another world."

"yeah, but," march paused for dramatic effect, "i saw them together in dan heng's room a few days ago."

stelle furrowed her eyebrows, "are you stalking them or something?"

"what?!" march exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat. the scene caused stelle to laugh, "no. of course not, i can't believe you accused me of that!"

"so... you don't think it's weird that we never see them together anymore?" march continued.

"okay. i'll answer. it's a little weird. but whatever it is i'm sure they have a reasonable explanation for it," stelle said. "why are you asking about them anyway?"

"because," march drew out the syllables, "they're cute. i've been shipping them. and plus, dan heng hasn't really been acting like himself recently."

"yeah, but what are we gonna do about it? he hasn't really opened up to us about his problems... like... ever..." stelle trailed off, as if she tried to remember how many times dan heng has ever spoken about himself.

"don't worry stelle," march grinned, "i have a plan."

"i can't believe we fell for this," you grimaced in the closet you were stuck in.

march and stelle split up and told both of you that there was a group meeting in march's room. obviously, because the both of you thought there was something urgent, you rushed in there. you were prepared, only to be ambushed and pushed in a closet by march and stelle as a ploy to "make up."

alas, you knew you needed to talk things out sooner or later.

dan heng, on the other hand, was freaking out. you're close. you're so close that he can feel every time you exhale out of your nose. this closet had no space, so you were practically pressed up on dan heng.

the one thing he couldn't see though, was your face. dan heng wanted to see your face. he wanted to study you up close: he wanted to your skin with his hands, wanted to pull you closer so he can observe the way your mouth lifts when you smile. he wants so much, but he can have none of it.

"i think i can break us out," dan heng offered.

"do you think they're guarding the doors?" you chuckled. dan heng gave a small smile after hearing your laugh. it's ironic that you're laughing in this situation while dan heng's heart is about to burst.

"i think the both of us can take them," dan heng answered.

this is the most you two have ever spoken to each other in days. you missed his voice and you missed being so close to him. unconsciously, you leaned closer to dan heng. you would know his warmth from anywhere.

as you two try to find a good point to hit, your hands brush against dan heng's. the way his hand feels on top of yours just feels right. the way his touch is still so gentle; oh how badly you missed his touch against yours.

"i'm sorry!" dan heng quickly removed his hands from yours. he moved away from you as well. you wanted so badly to chase him: you wanted to come closer, to place your hands with his one more time.

but you didn't. you doubted the fact that dan heng wanted to be near you. with his recent actions, you were wondering if the two of you were still on good terms or not. you could mess everything up with one action; dan heng was the very last thing you wanted to lose.

when you two finally found a good breaking point, you both put all your body strength into prying the doors open. it took a few tries, but the doors finally opened. however, there were consequences. the closet fell down with the combined force of both your bodies shaking it.

before you two fell to the floor, dan heng grabbed your arm and pulled you underneath him in a quick motion. your heart raced against your chest; you were so close that you could feel dan heng's heartbeat as well. and to your surprise, his heart was beating just as fast as yours.

the closet fell on top of you, and dan heng shoved it off of the two of you in one motion. seeing him do that just made your heart beat faster, and you were sure that you were breathing faster as well.

dan heng looked down to check on you, but doing so brought him much closer to you. closer than he had ever been. if dan heng moved down a little bit more, he would be able to close the distance between your lips. the urge was tempting: he was on top of you, your faces were both so close to each other, and your breathing was rampant and quick.

"are you alright?" dan heng asked. his breath fanned your face and you stared right into his eyes.

"i should be asking you that," you breathlessly whispered. he was so close and you were about to burst.

"i'm alright," he leaned down closer, "don't worry about me."

you two were both in a daze when you found yourselves leaning closer to each other. dan heng cupped your face; he couldn't wait any longer. all resilience went out the window, because right here, right now, you were here. you were in front of him, looking as radiant as ever, and dan heng could close the distance right now.

his hands treaded carefully across your face, as if you were one-of-a-kind. finally, his hands rested against your cheeks, and he leaned closer. dan heng was so close to kissing you before a commotion entered the room.

"OH MY GOD!" march exclaimed before running out of the room.

you startled, and accidentally pushed dan heng off of you. you frantically apologized while dan heng brushed himself off and helped you up. you were shaking at what almost just happened. you almost kissed your best friend.

the distance between you and dan heng was wide. he made sure to stand exactly five feet away from you. his hands were crossed and he refused to look at you. dan heng was worried that if he got even the slightest glance at you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from what would happen next.

you both quickly left the room with racing hearts, confused thoughts, and a realization that whatever just happened was a mistake.

WHENEVER DAN HENG NEEDS SOMEONE to help him with his wounds, you are always that person.

at first, it was for team bonding. before stelle came, you all would take turns patching wounds to build team trust. however, with dan heng, the only person that he'd let patch up his wounds was you. you used to tease him and tell him that he was like a dog in that way, but he always brushed it off.

you were always gentle with him; carefully touching up on cuts and bruises with bandages or rubbing alcohol. by no means were you any doctor, but you were tender and calm.

dan heng was wounded again. there was no reason for him to be wounded. the fight was tame; the enemies weren't extremely powerful or anything. but for some reason, dan heng surpassed the rest of the team with more cuts.

now, you two were in a small room together. luckily, it's more spacious than the closet, but it wasn't as big as dan heng's room. you and dan heng were both sitting on a table; you sitting criss-cross-applesauce while dan heng was sitting properly.

the both of you haven't talked ever since the closet incident. instead, you two have been sharing gazes, brushing past each other in halls, and staying five feet away from each other.

this was the closest you have been in a while.

you are focused on banadaging dan heng's cuts. your eyes are glued to his arms and torso; you refused to look up at dan heng. you couldn't look at him for two reasons: you were slightly mad at him for obtaining so many injuries and you still couldn't look him in the eye after the past situation.

dan heng sat in silence as you tended to him. he knew you were mad at him, and he felt awful. dan heng knew that he didn't need to sustain as many injuries has he had. the only reason why he had so many injuries was that he was trying to distract himself from his feelings. the closet situation had him questioning himself. given the chance, would he hold himself back or would he let his urges win?

"i'm done," you let go of his arms and started putting bandages away. dan heng didn't know you'd be done so quickly. he wanted to bask in your grace for a little longer. dan heng thought about pulling a stitch in order to get you to stay longer, but that just seemed weird.

dan heng knew he couldn't let you leave like this. there was too many unspoken words between you two; most of them, partially his.

during this, dan heng realized something. he realized that, even though you are still mad at him, you stayed with him. you didn't ask for march or stelle to help him, but you did it yourself. dan heng could be reading too much into it, but dan heng is tired. he's tired of longing for you.

and maybe, just maybe, if you'll stay when it gets difficult (like right now), maybe you'll stay when it gets hard as well.

dan heng decides to leave all resilience behind. for once, he doesn't calculate the consequences nor does he hold himself back.

you're about to slide off the table until dan heng pleads, "wait." he grabs your arm and holds you there with a gentle grip. you could slip out of it if you wanted to, but this may be the first actual conversation the two of you will have in a while.

dan heng takes your silence as an answer. "thank you," he says. he curses at himself at the simple response. it was anti-climatic. "i appreciate you," he adds on.

the compliment made you blush, even though it was very simplistic. you avoid looking at him and rather focus on tapping your fingers on the table. "no problem. it was nothing anyway."

you two remain silent for a few moments; you didn't want to leave in fear that this may be one of your few conversations. dan heng was trying to find the right words to say.

"i really do appreciate you. for being here. for always being here," he continues. dan heng realizes he sounds redundant, and he wants to slap his palm across his face. with you, he couldn't find the right words to convey his actions. saying, "i'm sorry," wasn't enough and saying, "i miss you," was too little.

"i told you. it's nothing. i'd do the same for everyone else," and you wanted to chide yourself for saying the last sentence. not true, because the only person who'd you really do all of this for was only dan heng.

"i think this is the longest conversation we've had in a while," you murmur to yourself.

"i know," dan heng replies. you jump back on the table, almost falling off. if it wasn't for dan heng catching you (yet again), you would've fell off. his touch sends electricity through your veins; his touch brings warmth to your body.

"hey! you need to watch your stitches," you automatically scolded him. your nagging was a normal occurrence, but this time, it felt rare. dan heng hasn't heard you nag at him for years (days), and he feels as though he can breath normally now.

"sorry," he pulls back. you're left shuffling closer to dan heng, not that you notice, due to your almost fall. you two were facing each other now; the distance was a lot closer than before.

you let out a small laugh at the situation. practically falling of a table was not a laughing matter, but you always found joy in those situations. sometimes, dan heng thought it was a bit strange, but he always valued your optimism.

"i'm sorry dan heng," you look back down on the table, "i didn't know going through your data bank would make you ignore me for days," you let out dry chuckle.

dan heng furrows his eyebrows in shock, "don't apologize. i don't mind you looking through the data bank."

you looked up after his reply, expression shadowed with confusion, "wait? really? so... why the radio silence? did i have something to do with it?"

"no! no, it wasn't you," dan heng quickly reassured. "it was me. i was the problem."

"don't have to tell me that," you smiled and bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing.

"i'm gonna let that slide," dan heng smirked. it was nice, the way you two fell back into your normal routines once again. it was like all the tension that was previously there, simply dissipated.

"i missed you," you crossed your legs on the table, moving back to the criss-cross applesauce position.

"me too," dan heng replied. "i missed you a lot." he looked straight into your eyes.

you flustered underneath his gaze, "i probably missed you more. sometimes i dunno if i can survive without you," you joked. it was a joke, but occasionally, you find it to be true.

"for me, it's the other way around," dan heng mumbled beneath his breath. "i really missed you. and our late nights. and star-watching."

"you missed star-watching?" you astonishly asked. dan heng wished he could take a picture of your grin when he told you that he missed star-watching.

"i missed a lot of things," dan heng paused, "but i missed you the most."

"i'm sorry for pushing you away yn. i was just⎯ scared," time to rip off the band-aid, "when i'm around you, i just get so messed up. you're the only thing on my mind sometimes. everything about you just makes me⎯ breathless? speechless? you amaze me to the point where i can't even think of a word to describe you."

dan heng pauses and his heart is racing. you're looking at him as if you want him to continue, as if you want him to finally say what he wants. dan heng doesn't know that you want it too.

"yn," dan heng looks straight at you, "i have feelings for you. feelings that i think will overwhelm me at one point if i keep it all together. i never stop thinking about you, longing for you. i want you and i think i really want to kiss you," dan heng finishes. he fumbled on his words back there, because he doesn't think he wants to kiss you, he wants to.

"dan heng..." your face is hot. your body is hot. your breathing is fast-paced and you feel like you are about to be on fire. adrenaline rushes through your veins and you are sure you are not thinking straight.

you pull him in for a kiss, tugging him closer by his chin and kissing him passionately. you take that fire from your body and you pour it all into this kiss. dan heng is surprised at first, but then reciprocates your actions. while your hand is on his face, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you closer and holding you tighter.

you two kiss until you have to stop for air. when you breathe, the whole world feels like it's on fire as well.

"i feel the same. i can't stop thinking about you," you lean in for another kiss, "i miss you," another kiss, "i missed being with you," another, "i missed being close to you," another, this time a little longer, "but i really hope i don't miss this."

"don't worry," dan heng pauses, "you won't. i promise."

and after all of that, dan heng finally got to kiss you.

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#this was a monster to write #i got this finished in one day #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng imagines #the way it just gets progressively longer #im gonna need 3-5 business days to recover #PROMOTING MY STELLE MARCH / STARCH AGENDA!!! STARCH STARCH STARCH #can you tell it got worse at the end

1K notes · View notes

malleleothreesome · 6 months

Text

Femdom!Reader x Sub!Malleus Draconia

💚 summary: Malleus grovels before you as you sit upon his throne in the Diasomnia dorm lounge ༶༶༶ 💚 warnings: afab fem reader, no pronouns (use of you/your) but Malleus does refer to you as his Queen. Malleus has two cocks, consensual bdsm scene, all actions taken agreed upon offscreen prior to starting and are within Malleus' boundaries, collar & leash, you use him as a footrest, use of good/bad boy, you slap him (it doesn't hurt), punishment: you masturbate in front of him, edging (him), orgasm denial (him), face sitting cunnilingus, vagina stretching spell, breeding, creampie, aftercare ༶༶༶ 💚 word count: 4.5k words ripped from my tortured soul

Oh, how easy it was to turn the powerful, brooding future King of Briar Valley into a needy, desperately loyal little puppy. Completely dependent on your attention—and your touch. Who could have known he would fall so deeply—and wretchedly—in love with the first girl who didn’t run away? After centuries of Malleus walking alone under the dark void of night, you came and filled the sky with bright, twinkling stars. From the very second he was met with your crinkled, smiling eyes—a far cry from the usual look of dread—he was yours, and yours alone. Without a second thought, you’ve folded him into your sweet embrace, promising eternity. You’ve taken it upon yourself to fill his days with love, companionship, happiness—things he has indeed always deserved, but all of which, until now, were missing entirely.

You were inseparable. When he wasn’t tending to Kingly duties, he could be found close behind you, clinging to your comfort and familiarity. Malleus always admired your confidence, strength, and what seemed to be sheer fearlessness. You packed a lot of spunk in that tiny, mortal body of yours. You were determined to get the other students to accept him—you would have done it by force if you’d had to. (You didn’t have to. You were far too clever for that.)

He was your plus one, always. You introduced him with such adoration, that any preconceived ideas of him were pushed aside without much thought. If someone dared question his presence, you’d make an example of their rude presumptions. All the while, Malleus towered sheepishly behind you, blushing, and elated. You were the only one in his life who truly saw him.

Dominance was Malleus’ birthright. His ability to command inferiority and trepidation from every single person in a room was an unwanted side effect that had been passed down for generations. Dominance is a role he was forced into by his Kingdom—it’s all he’d ever known. But then, there was you. The way you stand up to and for him with no fear or hesitation. The way you simultaneously treat him like he’s Just Some Guy, and also the most precious treasure in the world. Watching you take the lead makes his heart race—and loins ache—faster and deeper than anything before. He was absolutely desperate for you to take advantage.

So there you were, sitting on Malleus’ throne in the Diasomnia lounge, in the depths of the night. Everyone else had retreated to their rooms. The Prince of Thorns was kneeling before you, his alabaster face enveloped in the faint purple and green glow that danced around the throne—the only source of light in an otherwise pitch black room. Your feet—costumed in 6-inch, dagger-like heels that might be lethal to both body and soul—rest heavy on his shoulders. If only Malleus’ ancestors could see their tyrannizing heir being used as a footrest by a common human…

Your lingerie is devoid in the places it matters most—a corset that leaves your breasts propped up and completely exposed, panties with a slit that perfectly frames your exposed, wet cunt. So close, yet so far away. A flick of his forked, serpent-like tongue slips out of his mouth. His eyes get lost in the view. For you, he would reduce himself down to just a tongue—how he yearns to be useful. His twin cocks create a prominent bulge against his tight, leather pants. You keep a short, firm grip on the leash that connects to the patent black collar around his neck.

“What are you looking at?” You ask rhetorically, taking your right foot off his shoulder and placing the toe of your stiletto against his forehead, forcing his gaze to meet yours. You let it linger there, making a point: The feared crown Prince of Briar Valley is beneath you.

His heart stammers and he gulps, lips parted but unable to form an answer. A low moan escapes his throat, eyelids fluttering closed—this is pure ecstacy. Unfiltered submission. Total loss of control. Absolute surrender. It was intoxicating. He had no control of his body, and he could hardly form a coherent thought. His cock muscles begin to flex against his pants, as his desperation to create friction shows face.

But it’s not time for relief or release. You yank his collar, forcing his face toward you. “Bad boy!” you purr, through gritted teeth, slapping him hard across the cheek. “Did I give you permission for pleasure?”

His eyes roll back, hand instinctively rushing to his cheek. Not to tend to the wound—to relish in the feeling of your touch. The slap didn’t hurt, but the sheer audacity of the move was almost enough to make him cum right then and there. In his long life, no one had ever dared challenge him in such a way. You loved how your precious Malleus showed his emotions so plainly on his face. A strong wave of arousal flooded your nervous system as you admired his flushed face. His eyes had gone hazy, drool glistened on the corners of his mouth, which had curled into the lewdest smile you’d ever seen. There was no doubt—he was getting off to this.

You yank the leash again, forcing him out of sexual gratification. “What a shame.” You look down at him with so much contempt that he winces. You almost wanted to break the scene and comfort him, but these were the rules. This was what he wanted.

You continue to follow through with your punishment, reminding him of his place and purpose in the bedroom: service and obedience. You take a deep breath and sigh. "I was really looking forward to using that pretty face of yours to make myself cum. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

You remove your feet from his body, bracing them on the seat of the throne and spreading your legs in one smooth motion. His pout transitions into a dropped jaw as your free hand crawls down your stomach to spread your labia apart. You hold his eye contact and you see his slitted pupils dilate. You begin to draw slow, sensual circles around your clit.

Every neuron fires off in delicious agony, screaming that he should be the one pleasuring you. His heart aches—he vowed to himself that his Queen shouldn’t have to lift a finger as long as he was around. Malleus was holistically devoted; your pleasure has become his entire purpose.

He dedicated his days to chasing the high of your smiles and his nights to getting drunk off of your moans. He didn’t deserve to revel in your precious light, but you let him in without a second thought. That was just the type of person his beloved human was, and for that, he would serve you until his last breath.

But now he had to sit idly and watch as you enjoyed yourself without him. What a beautiful torture. A fitting punishment. Perfect for stripping away his ego, forcing him out of everything he knew, all while reminding him of his subservient status. As much as it hurt him… he craved moments like these.

Malleus studies your movements carefully, internalizing every detail of how you pleasure yourself. The way you slid your middle finger up through your delicate folds, gathering the slick of your own arousal for lubrication. How you alternate between light flicks on your clit and flat, rapid rubbing with two fingers. The way you allow yourself to become absorbed in your lechery.

You’re sure to drag out Malleus’ punishment, taking time to honor every part of yourself. You explore every surface of your body, through your hair, teasing your hardened nipples on the way back down to your cunt. What a naughty tease. How beautiful it was to watch your vulva swell as you got closer and closer to orgasm. His heart raced, breath running ragged as he became consumed by theories of what you could be thinking of to bring yourself closer to the edge. Were you thinking about him? What dirty fantasy about him would transform your pleasure, forcing you to the point of no return?

Whatever it was, you couldn’t fight it. Your eyes widened, and Malleus watched as you wrapped his leash around your wrist to grip the armrest of his throne, holding on for dear life as you rode out the high of your orgasm. Malleus made a tight fist with his right hand, digging his nails into his palm to prevent himself from cumming too, just from the sight of you. There was no bigger turn-on than seeing you receive the pleasure you deserve. It had been weeks since his Queen had allowed him to cum. His balls were desperate to release—even a nipple poking through your t-shirt was enough to feel like he was edging.

Currently, it was taking every fiber of his being not to slip up. He was ever careful not to take any action that his Queen would consider stepping out of line, lest his orgasm be denied further. But that look on your face… every sound of pleasure from your sweet lips… every involuntary twitch of your legs and each curl of your toes—safely filed away in his mind to replay when his Queen finally gives him permission to cum.

“What a good boy you were. I know that was hard for you.”

You sit back up on the throne, leaning towards Malleus’ face, smiling sweetly as you let your smug, cunning eyes tell a different story. You know you’re driving him mad—and you’re goddamn proud of it. You lean even closer, lifting his chin with your blood-red, manicured fingertips. You can’t help but giggle as you poke and prod, rubbing his pale, soft cheeks with your thumb, dragging your fingernail along his pointed ear. His blush deepens. You lift his upper lip up with one teasing finger, admiring his cute little fangs.

“How adorable you are. My perfect little obedient pet. My perfect lover. I love everything about you.”

You settle back into the chair, cheek resting on your fist, face arranged in a coy little smile.

“You may speak.”

A faint, “T-thank you, m-my Queen” is all he can muster before dropping eye contact and falling silent again, cheeks sizzling. He doesn’t know how to process your earnest adoration.

“Aw, is that the best you can do? I can only hope you have more to say when giving a royal address, or appearing before the faerie courts. Let’s hope the domestication of a future King isn’t grounds for dethronement. By a human, no less.”

You both know Malleus remains ever-so-diligently authoritative when it comes to his duties to his Kingdom—it’s one of the reasons you felt so honored how eager Malleus was to lower himself for both of your pleasure.

“You know, I don’t like punishing you when you’re a bad boy. I want to take care of you, too.” You yank his leash in a final act of correction, watching his upper body stumble forwards once again. “Don’t make me do it again, or I swear on the Seven you will not like what follows. Now lay on your back. I’m not even close to being satisfied.”

Without hesitation, Malleus falls to the floor. Another place you shouldn’t find a powerful crown Prince: laying on the cold, hard, dirty ground. He wears a stupid smile on his face—he knows what’s coming. Rolling your eyes, you get in position; feet framing his eager face, offering a direct bird’s-eye view of your plump, glistening cunt. Slowly lowering yourself into a squat above his face, you purr, “beg for it.”

He can smell the musk of your pussy and his cocks throb painfully against his pants. His heart races, eyes once again hazy with arousal, mouth completely agape. His body twitches—he’s already edging. I guess a month of being denied orgasm will do that.

He looks up at you, eyes watering, lip quivering, hands in tight fists as he fights the urge to touch himself. He closes his eyes, savoring the warmth radiating from your cunt, and deeply inhales your scent. A deep, warm exhale swirls around your clit—still sensitive from your first orgasm—which sends a surge of electricity through your entire nervous system. You can’t help but shudder.

The corners of his lips curve upward, his ego is beginning to show itself again. You yank his leash upwards, meeting his eyes with a narrowed stare. Malleus knows the drill. He doesn't want his Queen's kindness to turn cold, after all. He gulps, all arrogance vanishing in an instant. You relax your grip.

A pathetic whine accompanies his plea: deep, smooth, and dripping with arousal. "Please," he begins. His eyes are wide and his lip trembles, desperate to satisfy his Queen. "I will worship your beautiful body. I will show you my love, my loyalty, my devotion, with the entirety of my being. My tongue will show you my adoration and gratitude. Please..." he begs and whimpers, more pathetic with each word.

"You're drooling." You wipe his mouth with your thumb, smearing it across his lips and forcing them apart. You stick your thumb into his mouth, on which he sucks hungrily. You can't help but smile—he really is greedy for your love. "Such a filthy, desperate, pitiful, whiny boy."

His eyelids flutter and he moans, loving how your words make him feel. His cocky, confident demeanor completely dissipates as you degrade him. He's a complete mess, completely dependent on your words and your touch. The second your finger is out of his mouth, he begins begging again, more frantically. "Please. Sit on my face. I want to be useful. I want to make you feel good. Please, please, use my mouth, I want to make you cum. I want to be covered in your essence. I want to taste the sweetness of your arousal. I want to drink it up, and breathe you in. I want to be completely engulfed in the warmth of your cunt. Please, my Queen. Use me for your pleasure. Let me worship your pussy.”

"You may."

Those two words felt electric. Malleus' heart raced and his cocks leaked and his eyes rolled back, lost in the euphoria of this moment. His arms reach around to squeeze the sides of your thighs, pulling your dripping cunt to his face before you could change your mind. A demanding action like that normally wouldn’t have been allowed, but you were already losing yourself to pleasure.

He pressed his nose into your pubic bone, licking at every inch of skin he could reach. Malleus wastes no time giving his Queen exactly what she wants. His tongue strokes up and down your pulsing pussy, lapping up your wetness and savoring every taste. His eyelids flutter in carnal ecstasy and his mind floats away, primal instincts taking over. Breathing deeply through his nose, practically drowning in your scent, a moan escapes his lips. He licks faster, swirling his tongue around your clit. He looks up, moaning again as he takes in the view: the plump undersides of your breasts bouncing lightly with every lick, fire-red fingernails squeezing your right nipple, your head thrown back in unmistakable pleasure. His moan pulsates against your soaking wet pussy, intensifying your pleasure to something even more carnal. Your pelvis—suddenly with a mind of its own—thrusts and grinds against his tongue.

He's hungry and messy, but he knows exactly how to please you. You run your fingers through his dark, sweaty bangs, pushing his hair back to expose the gorgeous scales hidden on his forehead. You hold onto his horns like a saddle, taking back some control.

"You're such a good boy, Malleus. Keep going." His long, forked tongue is immediately thrust inside of you, desperate to gather up every bit of slick from your last orgasm. You can feel his thick tongue prod against your sensitive, contracting walls as he eagerly laps up your sweet, musky juices. His tongue could do things a mortal man couldn’t dream of. You grind down harder, pushing his face further into you.

Arching your back, his tongue continues to devour you, licking and sucking with primal desperation. He licks the entire length of your vulva and then sucks his way up your labia, finishing his trail with a wet “pop,” leaving your clit swollen and throbbing. He revisits your labia with his entire mouth, sucking it taut and letting it go. The sensation of the blood rushing back is divine, and your whole body shivers. You’re so close. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your plush thighs, holding on for dear life as his adrenaline pulses through every blood vessel.

Your moans are music to his ears, and he wants more. He sucks on your clit, circling it with his tongue, flicking and licking up and down, positioning it safely between the fork of his tongue. It's too much, but you want more. He vibrates his tongue, sending shockwaves up and down your spine. Your leg muscles twitch and your breath catches. He can tell that you're almost there, and his cocks throb harder than ever. He’s desperate to cum when you do.

"Don't cum." You read his mind. "If you obey me, I'll let you cum in my womb."

He moans loudly, and his hips involuntarily jerk upward, trying to find friction in the air. His cocks are dripping, his pants soaked with clear, sticky precum. He feels so hot and needy, it's almost painful. But he loves it. The idea of finally releasing into you—his Queen. His love. His entire universe. If he could cum right now, he'd fill you to the brim, and then some. He'd give you the family you've always wanted. He'd make sure you'd never want for anything else. He'd give you everything in his universe, just like he promised.

Malleus can't help but whimper as you pull his hair, forcing his mouth back against your pussy. "Focus," you remind him. You can feel him nod, and then his tongue is back to work, licking, sucking, and flicking your clit, vibrating his tongue and moaning against your folds, the sound muffled by your flesh.

"You're such a good boy," you praise him. His eyes roll back and he moans even louder, sending vibrations up through your pussy. "Mmm... that's a good boy, Malleus. Such a good boy." He's getting sloppy, moaning and whimpering and bucking his hips uncontrollably. "You're so needy. Just a little more... a little longer. I'm close. Don't stop. Make me cum."

You feel his fingers digging into your flesh, his whole body is trembling. His face is red, and tears stream down his cheeks. His cocks ache—he won’t be able to hold on much longer.

For his finishing move, he pulls your clit between his lips and begins to suck, swirling his tongue around, and then flicking the tip. He vibrates his tongue as hard and as fast as he can, sending shockwave after shockwave straight through you until you’re completely uninhibited. You shudder and convulse, completely lost in orgasmic ecstasy. “MALLEUS,” you scream, cumming so hard that your juices squirt into his mouth and run down his chin. He shoves his tongue deep within your pussy, feeling your walls contract around him, lapping up the sweet, sticky liquid as it releases. He's in Heaven. His eyes are closed, breathing ragged, his chest heaves. He's panting, covered in sweat. His cocks twitch, and his balls ache, but he wouldn't dare let himself go over the edge. His prize awaits.

You crawl away from this face, legs wobbling and mind scrambling to catch up. Looking back at him, you see smudged eyeliner, swollen lips, and a face glistening in your juices. His chest heaves, cocks leaking with desperate arousal. He looks so pitiful, completely lost in the throes of carnal desire. He meets your gaze, his eyes out of focus. Small, desperate whimpers escape his lips. He's desperate for your touch—and you love seeing him this way.

You slowly undo the buttons on his shirt, one by one, taking the time to appreciate each reveal of toned muscle. He's so beautiful. Pure. Innocent. Perfect. You run your fingers down his chest, feeling the smooth, firm skin, and the rise and fall of his chest. His nipples are hard, and you can't resist. You tease them with your red, stiletto fingertips, feeling him shudder under your touch. He's so cute when he's aroused.

"M-my Queen..." he mumbles, and you know exactly what he wants. You kiss his chest, he moans. Arching his back, his hips buck forward, and a frustrated groan exits his airway. You kiss his nipples, playfully sucking, then a quick nibble. He cries out, body trembling, cocks twitching with excitement.

"Patience, my love," you coo. "You’ll get your reward."

You trail kisses down his torso as he squirms beneath you. His cocks are painfully hard. By the time you reach the waistband of his pants, his entire being is begging for you to take them off. In the same moment you’ve tugged the zipper down, his cocks spring free, bouncing against his abdomen. They're hard as rocks, covered in precum, and twitching with need. He's whimpering, and you know he can’t hold on much longer.

Slipping his pants down, you free his legs of their final constraint. You look up to find him gazing at you through half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. He's so beyond ready for release. You climb back up him, straddling his hips, careful not to make contact with either cock—you don't want him to cum just yet. Not before he fills you up, and makes you his.

"I want to take both of them. I don't want to waste a single drop." This is new. Usually it’s one cock inside of you while you jerk the other off or rub it against your clit. Two at once require a bit of fae magic. He nods, shuddering. Reaching up, his fingers brush against your pussy. His gasp is voracious—he felt how soaking wet you are. His hand glows green and he pushes two fingers into your tight little pussy, his magic spreading inside of you. It tingles in the best way. You feel like you're being filled up with warmth and love and ecstacy. Your body buzzes, pussy throbbing. As his magic begins to take effect, he adds two more fingers, your pussy eagerly and willingly stretching to accommodate his entire fist. Euphoria courses through your veins.

“Give yourself to me. Fill me up with every last bit of you. Make me see stars.”

Finally, permission.

In one swift motion, Malleus removes his fist and plunges both pulsing, throbbing, needing cocks inside of your enchanted pussy. Within an instant, Malleus can't hold back any longer. He erupts, and a guttural moan escapes his lungs as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. His whole body convulses, hips jerking violently, pumping his hot, sticky, viscous essence deep within your womb. Your eyes roll back, feeling his thick, warm cum paint your insides. The sheer force of his orgasm pushes you over the edge, and you cum for the third time that night, your walls clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop. The feeling is almost indescribable—both of your aching bodies become one, pleasure and cum filling you to the absolute brim. He pummels you again and again, your eyes rolling back, jaw slack, holding on for dear life.

He's continues to cum—it's been a month, after all. His moans are desperate, his breathing ragged. His hips buck, and his body trembles. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass cheeks, pulling you flush against him. He can't get enough. His head spins thinking about how badly he wants to impregnate you. To breed with you. To have you bear his children. To make you a mommy. He imagines your beautiful, swollen belly; a physical manifestation of the love you share.

After what may have been eons, his orgasm finally subsides. His vision clears, and he's met with a glorious sight: you, above him, blissed out and dripping with cum. His heart swells, his love for you now deeper than ever. You allow him to kiss you, after seeing him yearn for it. You taste his love, his desperation, and his complete submission to you. It's divine.

You collapse, falling on top of his chest. Lay there together, breathing hard, you both come down from the most intense orgasm of your lives. His cocks soften, and slip out of your overflowing cunt. Your body shudders. It feels strange to be empty again.

“Bathe me," you command him.

"Anything for my beloved."

You both stand, legs wobbly. With a flick of his wrist, Malleus uses his magic to clean up, restoring the room to a pristine state. Before you can protest, Malleus scoops you up, and in a flash, you're back in his dorm room. The green teleportation fireflies fade as he carries you to the bath. You relax into his arms. With one, strong hand, he turns the water on, making sure it's just the right temperature, cuddling you until the water fills. Sleepily, you disconnect the leash from his collar, leaving his collar fastened around his neck as a sign of ownership.

Malleus carefully slides the straps of your corset off your shoulders, unlacing the back and letting it fall to the ground. He kisses along your clavicle, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He kneels before you, slowly pulling your panties down. Watching them fall, he can't help but blush, remembering the way he'd seen them just moments before. Your nudity is absolutely mesmerizing.

You step into the soothing water in the tub, and Malleus steps in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap. He's so good at caring for you. He washes and scrubs every inch of your skin, finishing with a scalp massage. His movements are soft and intentional—full of love and adoration. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight. You let your eyes close, listening to his heart beat, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Thank you for tonight. It was perfect," he coos into your ear.

"I'm so happy you trust me so much with your fantasies." You feel him smile as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. "Do you feel more comfortable in your submission?"

"Every time, it gets easier. I've never felt this safe or this loved. I am forever indebted to you. I love you, now and always."

"I love you too, Malleus. Now and always."

His hands rest on your lower belly. One day, it will swell with change, and you'll bear his heirs. You'll live your life together, and you'll rule his kingdom by his side. He can hardly wait—he’s already vowed to serve and protect you and your future children with every bone in his body. But for now, he takes pride in knowing you choose to be with him. To show him that his submission is not weakness, it’s power. It's a privilege. And more than anything, it's love.

You fall asleep like this, in his arms, dreaming of your future together. He holds you close, cherishing the moment. You're his everything—now, and always.

This was my first ever fic! If you enjoyed it, it would mean the absolute world to me if you told me either in the replies, in my ask box, or in the tags! Please know you have my endless gratitude for reading my fanfic — thank you for supporting my passion. I have been a long time lover of fanfic and I am absolutely honored to finally contribute to the community I care so deeply about! I hope you had a great time! 💚 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst malleus draconia x reader smut #twst malleus draconia smut #twisted wonderland malleus x reader smut #malleus draconia x reader smut #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #my writing

853 notes · View notes

oncomingnight · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Rockstar

Hello everyone, I'd like to thank each and every single one of you for gifting me 300 supporters. I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate to reach out to me.

Ahmad is mainly known for the incredibly romantic meanings that are behind his songs. His music contains lyrics of desperation and devotion, going right along with his strongly captivating voice. Endearing terms and stories of myth that are from his culture tend to make an appearance in his music, creating a deeper sense of mystique.

His closet is filled with dark colors; Leather jackets, silk blouses, high waisted suit pants, trench coats and long sleeved shirts. He dresses quite modestly for someone that's coined the name of 'rockstar' but his sense of fashion suits him incredibly well.

His fan base has recognized that every single one of his songs are about you. The way he describes the subject of his love suits your exact appearance, plus a track of his is named after you. His supporters have nothing but complete admiration for the relationship the two of you share.

His obsessive tendencies are laid bare when it comes to the lyrics he writes. Here's an example, " Baby, I'm yours and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, yours until the rivers all run dry, in other words until I die."

No matter what, you're always tagging along with him when he's on tour. If your job is an inconvenience, he'll make some adjustments so you're able to come with him. How is he expected to survive several months on end without the love of his life present? He won't be able to.

By adjustments I mean threatening your boss, but don't worry about that!

As the two of you are settled on your shared bed inside of the tour bus, he snugly lays his head onto your chest, doe eyes looking up at you, practically begging for you to run your fingers through his silky black hair.

When the two of you are able to wander around the city you're currently located in for a show, he purchases trinkets for you! He enjoys dragging you towards photo booths and commenting on how beautiful you look in every single photograph. "Take a look at this one, you look so gorgeous, حبيبة قلبى."

With anyone else, Ahmad would be described as incredibly reserved and quiet. But with you, he's got his hands all over you, brushing your hair back so he can kiss your forehead, asking about your day, "are you hungry? How was your day? Do you want to go out to the garden? I love you, I love you I love you, I lo-"

He's the type of guy to try and nestle up closer to you, even when your skin is flush togethaer.

Ahmad enjoys both cooking and baking, he takes great joy in seeing your cheeks fatten up for a split second as you bite into the food he made for you, your eyes closing in pure contentment. He used to bake out of stress and the itching need to just do something, but now you stepped into his life and now he does it to see you smile and groan about how much you loved your meal.

Another factor in his fashion is mini gold hoops, the material is important to his culture and he also enjoys how positively the jewelry slightly alters his appearance.

His social media is filled with photos that he took of his morning coffee, him in the studio, him and his friends but it's always mainly you. He'll caption a post of his with the words, "photo dump!" and it's just a bunch of photos he took of you.

You can't blame the man for being in love.

His fans aren't irritated by this, either, if anything they want to see more of you! They comment on his posts saying, "forget Ahmad, I want y/n", "yeah you're cool and all but where's our mom..?"

On the fridge in your shared home are tons of photos that are of you and him. Little magnets that he purchased whilst on tour holding them up.

Not only did he name a song about you but an entire album, it included songs describing the way he felt about you. "Pretty Woman" "The Look of Love" "I Only Want To Be With You" .

Hello everyone, I know this isn't my best work but I wanted to get something out for you guys! Have a nice day and night.

796 notes · View notes

aphpuffinchild · 3 months

Text

since it's out i can finally post my piece for @hws-anthology as well as the timelapse for it. as is arguably all my hetalia work, it's a love letter to my friend @pyrrhocorax 's fic Sendlingur og Sandlóa - i'll ramble a bit about how much it means to me, as well as the symbolism i wormed into this piece below the read more :)

i originally had two pages planned for this piece, potentially more - the fic is a good 74k words long and certainly not light on scenes i could and wanted to pull from, but various things led into other various things and one page was all i could manage, so i tried to cram in what i could, so here's that (in a rough, somewhat arbitrary order of focal points)

the opening chapter! the car is a framing device for the piece as much as it is for the journey the characters will take following that first chapter, so i wanted to use the car window/shapes as a literal framing device in my drawing

joi, shaky at best in his sense of self, sees no reflection in the window, instead there's a silhouetted raven to signify the search he must go on to find it

while not perfectly transcribed by virtue of wonky (plus an extra) line(s), the notes coming from joi's headphones are the opening to the song sendlingur og sandlóa, the fic's namesake, which a loved one kindly transposed by ear for me for the purpose of this piece

in a similar vein, the stickers on joi's suitcase are of a purple sandpiper and a ringed plover, the birds after which the song is named - here they are as transparents and in their original colours

i wanted to create a sliiight impression that joi is the one knocking over the chessboard, representing his repeated rejections of it (both physically, and the things it represents)

the chess pieces were also chosen specifically! originally i was going to use a black rook and a white pawn to match chapter 41, but for the sake of having alternating colours and the rest of my metaphors working (iirc) i swapped those colours around. that, and i wanted to match chapter 13's white king and black pawn - the black pawn stuck, the white king was colour swapped for colour cohesion reasons like the other's. (visual contrast was important to me, but the white queen blending slightly into the sky was okay for symbolism reasons) (there was also black king, white rook from chapter 3, so it all worked out anyway - there's a lot of chess in this story and i only had space for so many pieces and colours, basically)

speaking of which, the black pawn is for joi (chapter 13), the white queen is for halle (someone who, from joi's perspective, can go anywhere, vs joi's pawn, someone to be used -> see chapter 35 and perspective).

the king piece is falling (but hasn't quite fallen) between halle and henrik (chapter 3, 7, 13, though i most clearly thought of 19)

the person in the top right corner is eduard! i desperately wanted to include him because i think he's deserved it, and i considered a lot of ways of working him in, but i think an ambiguous silhouette that isn't Quite part of the main picture works better narratively

note also that he's separated from the other's through a red curtain, to represent the iron curtain (naturally) i wanted it to match ber + tino's part in some way, to sorta emphasise their similar foundations despite being split apart across places

the flowers at eduard's window are placed and chosen purposefully as well! orange/red zinnia's outside (for familial ties, steadfastness, friendship and remembrance) for what eduard puts out in to the world, then lily-of-the-valley for tino and cornflower for him inside to show what he wants to hold close :)

halle and joi are the only characters with their eyes open - halle looks towards the viewer/author/reader/joi, while joi looks away all together. if you've read the fic (which i assume you have because i can't imagine this is interested to read otherwise) you probably don't need me to explain why that reflects their roles in the story

similarly, every character apart from the brothers is turned towards another in some way (eduard does not count when his flowers do, and his role in the story is based around that disconnect partially anyway) tino towards ber and eduard (and hana, i guess), ber towards tino, henrik to halle, halle to henrik (though he looks away - his values are elsewhere even when they are together). joi, at best, looks at his own reflection in the window

the colour scheme, while arbitrarily picked from gradient maps based on what i felt "fit" has been approved by the author as being very "SoS core"

finally, the poem on the note, chapter 46

all that being said, i can and will now talk about my personal relationship with SoS, so unless that interests you i imagine the post is done now! thank you for reading :)

the first comment i posted on SoS is dated 2nd November 2016 - logging into my old account i can see i bookmarked it on the 31st August that same year, so i can safely assume i first read or at least found it then. a month after my first comment, i posted another on a different account, pouring a few bits of my heart out and the author responded! we went back and forth a bit and eventually talked (i think) via tumblr for a little, but the majority of our conversations were via skype for whatever reason (we didn't call, just texted). it was a lot of me looking for writing advice, insight to their work/process/skill, talking about The Brothers and talking about psychology/the brain on a general and personal level. i think if i read our conversations back now i'd cringe, given that i was an awkward, fumbling 16 year old, but i dont think anything else wouldve been fitting given the subject matter. eventually our conversations fizzled out and we stopped talking for years, but i'd go back to SoS routinely and cry.

in may of 2021, i posted another comment during what in hindsight was definitely another relatively minor mental health episode - i think it was half trying to emphasise how important the work was to me on the off chance pyrr saw it, and half a bid for connection since i had no idea if they even remembered us talking. i assumed nothing would come of it, and for about a year that was true - until pyrr responded after all in february of 2022 - i'm happy to say we've been talking consistently on discord since then. i feel a little weird speaking too intimately about our friendship as it is now since it's not just my story to tell (though pyrr, if you're reading this) (i'm sure you are at some point) (you're welcome to talk about it however, i just didn't want to without consulting you) but i can say with some certainty that it's at least a little bit my fault that we have a sequel now - cementing my place as official number #1 fan and validating the me from almost 8 years ago in a way i don't think either of us processes well.

it's here that i feel the need to talk about my other dear friend, @hws-lceland , who i'm grateful to have met through the zine's discord server. i'm sure they're reading this too, and a lot of what our relationship means to me is stuff that's probably a bit too vulnerable for either of us to speak publicly, but i *can* say that i love them very much, and i'm really grateful to have someone else to understand, and that he read SoS for me. i thought he needed it, and i hope i was right

sendlingur is...endlessly important to me. i'm aiming to not write an essay here (a goal i think i've already sorta shot in the foot) but i think it's important for me to talk about some of this a little loudly, all the same. my writing has changed because of the series - remeeting with pyrr and showing them some of my more recent work was interesting since it was apparent even to them the influences i'd taken (to be fair, in one section i explicitly asked and did borrow a format of theirs, but this goes beyond that). when i was 16 i asked my mum to read the fic in a desperate bid to be understood. i've cried reading the fic many, many times. i've signed off letters and poems with my switched around version of i'm sorry / thank you / i love you (i swap the first two around) many, many, many times, including in a close friend's wedding gift. SoS has very sincerely changed my definition of love. the name halle is a part of my abstract mindscape. id already considered changing my name to johannes anyway and this fic certainly didnt help. i've gained a friendship of 7 and a half years through it. i've gained another newer one now, too. i am not well. i wasn't well then, reading it, and it hasn't fixed me (i am worse, now, arguably), but it healed something, or at least made me feel understood. i could go on, and maybe sometime i will (there were so many things i wanted to include in my piece and pay homage to!), but for now i will thank anyone who took the time to read all this (again), and say that i look forward to experiencing the sequel

as always, i'm sorry, thank you, i love you

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hws iceland #hws norway #hetalia iceland #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia sweden #hws sweden #hws estonia #hetalia estonia #hetalia finland #hws finland

225 notes · View notes

mortuarywriting · 28 days

Text

Falling into Place

Ao3 Link - [First] - [Next Chapter ->]

All things considered this isn't what you were expecting to wake up to when you went to bed. One minute you're on your phone, trying to pass out, and the next? You're here. You've had some interesting greetings in your life, but dropping about six feet and having twelve guns leveled at your face? That takes the cake

Warnings:

Reader Insert, Plus-Size Reader, The Author Regrets Everything, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Isekai, canon divergence Look we're gonna dig into the implications of omegasverse changing bits and pieces of history as well as addressing whatever the FUCK is happening as CoD's history. Idk man Godzilla is canon and nobody bats an eye at that fact and you think I'm gonna be normal about that? No

You could be having a worse day, you think, as you stare at the interrogation table you're cuffed to. They could've shot you the second you fell the six feet from the sky into a random army base. That's a very real thing that could've happened.

But no, you just had a dozen guns pointed at you in one moment and a slew of questions you didn't have satisfying answers for.

No, you had no idea how you got there. You'd been in bed tooling around on your phone and then you were falling.

They asked who you worked for, and were not impressed by your mundane answer. You didn't work for some pmc or intelligence organization. You asked them to their faces if they thought you could pass a PT test if you tried. Not that they answered or appreciated your point, mind.

It was only after you gave them whatever identifying information you had that things got… spicy.

"I would love to tell you what this designation of yours is if you tell me what you mean. Is it like a classification of civilian versus enlisted? Is it physical? Is it your horoscope? I don't know what I don't know," you explain again for the Nth time. You didn't wanna play twenty questions but here you fuckin were, captive audience and all.

The man asking you questions had lost his charming good cop look. He was getting more and more annoyed on this one, "your designation," a demand, not a question and sure as shit not an answer.

"Again, would love to tell you! I don't know what you mean! Feels like some kinda Star Wars thing," you grumble the last bit to yourself but the man cocks his head.

His eyes narrow, "what are… Star Wars, you said?"

You blink owlishly, "beg pardon?"

"Star War. Clarify."

It's your turn for your brow to furrow, and furrow it does, "Star Wars? As in the multi-billion dollar franchise created by George Lucas and eventually sold to Disney," your tone is questioning, just shy of asking if the guy lived under a rock but his expression didn't let up and the last thing you needed was bad cop, so you continued, "the story of what happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away? The political space series of movies versus Star Trek's more scientific and discovery based longstanding TV show? Nine major movies and the Clone Wars before Disney sunk their talons in. Like yeah we got more shows and movies that expanded the universe but they also cut out decades of book contributions in their acquisition and that kinda sucked. But yeah, that Star Wars?"

"Nine movies," his tone is disbelieving, and now it's your turn for your eyebrows to raise, "can you name them?"

You nod, "well yeah. Do you want them in episode order or release?"

His brows furrow, "did they not release in order?"

"In a sense? Three trilogies, 4-5-6 back in the late 70s early 80s, then 1-2-3 in the late 90s early 00s, and 7-8-9 through the teens. So order, yes, just… not a cohesive one."

"Release, then," he leaned back and crossed his arms, a position you'd love to mimic if you weren't cuffed to the table for… an indeterminate period of time now, actually.

"A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi-"

"Woah now, empire? What's a jeddy?"

You give him a blank look, trying very hard to mask your disbelief as you look between him and the mirror behind him. You look at your reflection, take a deep breath, and- "sir would it be easier for you to maybe check the internet?"

He seemed to bristle, nose flaring and looking at you expectantly.

You just… kinda sat there. You tapped your fingers together on the desk and kept the eye contact he was intent on. It took a good minute and him getting progressively pissier before you simply ask, "would you like the other movies now?"

You didn't expect an explosion of movement from the man. He downright snarled and slammed his hands on the table as he burst to his feet, the sudden change sending his chair screeching back before falling with a clatter. You leaned as far back as your cuffed hands would allow, eyes wide and a panic rising.

Both of you turned to look at the door when it slammed open with a barked, "Williams!"

The man who opened it reared back a bit, "Christ, layin' it on a bit thick," he groused, his tone sounding more like someone chastising a teenager for using too much Axe body spray. He smoothed his posture back into something casual as he fanned the air dismissively with a hand, "cap wants you to take a walk."

Your interrogator- Williams, apparently- stares at the man in the door, the two locking eyes before the one in the door straightens from his purposely relaxed posture. You watch the both of them, noting the shoulders tensing as the two just. Staring at each other? Eventually the guy who'd been grilling you looked away and stormed out, the man in the doorway letting him slip out easily enough before turning a charming look back to you.

He took a minute to fan the door a few times to get newer, blissfully cool air in before he entered the room, "sorry 'bout him. He really did a number in here," the new guy tsked before closing the door quietly behind himself.

Your brow furrowed even as you slowly relaxed a bit, had this Williams guy like… farted or something? A nice quirk of ventilation keeping you from smelling something abhorrent? Either way you simply shrug as he walks in and tips the chair back up, sitting and giving another reassuring smile, "how you doing, love?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before simply settling on, "I'm a bit… whelmed? This has been," you give as vague a rolling gesture as you can without your cuffs rattling too badly, "a lot? And I have no idea what just set him off either?"

It's the man before you's turn to quirk a brow, "no idea?"

"If I knew the answers to his questions I'd've given 'em by now. I don't, though, and then he just started staring? And hell I just thought it was some kinda macho 'I can stare the truth out of you,'" you pitched your voice lower and pushed your shoulders out for a second to mimic the douchebag behavior before settling, "so I kept eye contact because I'm so out of my depth I have no reason to lie at all and now…" you trail off, gesturing around the room, "all that."

The man nods slowly, "alright love, could you tell me about the last five years?"

Your brows furrow, "oh fuck, 2019 was five years ago wasn't it. God, time is an illusion. Anyway, you want what I was doing leading up to and through the pandemic?"

You think he might've startled for a second but he simply moved to scratch his chin, "mhmm. Just your thoughts on the last five years is all."

So… you ramble. Because he was nice and not prodding or asking weird questions. You talk to him about your job before the pandemic, how people thought covid was just a flu until the death tolls kept climbing, how tons of governments dropped the ball on a local or country-wide level and how that kicked back onto your life, and then the absolute crapshoot of the last election cycle, the shitty 'oh no this is the new normal everything is fine' behavior that has lead to surges and cycles of a fucking plague and so on. He simply nodded, gave some sympathetic hums and winces appropriately at your experiences.

"And did you go back and watch Star Wars through that? Or other things Disney owned?"

And, well, that was a weird way to phrase it but you shrugged, "the mouse is just shy of a monopoly and not one that anybody can take that down so… yeah, I guess? They kept putting shows out and expanding their Star Wars universe so that's been kinda neat to watch but not just them, no. Couple other games and stuff like that to keep me busy, too," you kinda handwave and shut up because panic rambling to MILITARY PERSONNEL is probably not your smartest move in hindsight. Especially when you don't know his name. A+, self.

You tap your fingers against the metal table as he looks at you, "and you said covid has a long term effect of ruining people's senses of smell and taste?"

You nod slowly, "yeah, dude? It's one of the biggest warning signs for most people? Like if everything starts tasting like it was made by a middle class white mom who keeps shoving random letters in her kids names you should swab? That kinda shit?"

What rock has this guy been living under? You were pretty sure the military were supposed to be way more familiar with this shit all things considered, but you've been wrong before.

It was his turn to give you a bit of a wide eyed look before he poorly covers a laugh, "alright, that's fair. I need to go talk with my captain," he hooks a thumb over his shoulder to the window, which didn't surprise you that there had been people back there. He offers a reassuring smile as he stands, humming idly as he pushes the chair back in. He pauses mid-step, "you mentioned that there were cards…?"

You find yourself nodding slowly, "yeah it was important and you couldn't fly or go to certain places if you didn't have one for a while. Should still have a picture of mine buried on my phone," you really didn't wanna get another first-round of covid shots, you REALLY didn't wanna repeat the 24 hours of suck for no reason.

"Cool, thanks," he flashes another charming grin before he slides out of the room.

You lean back in your chair, what an odd guy. Nice though.

-------

"Right," Gaz says as he opens the door to Price and Ghost, "either our mystery guest is off her nut or she's legitimately from somewhere and somewhen else."

Ghost and Price look at each other before turning back to Gaz, this… complicated matters.

Well, it's not like you hadn't given them information to identify yourself. They'd dig up who you were one way or another.

-------

You stare blankly as the nice man from before gives you a sympathetic look, "what do you mean I'm dead?"

Behind him is a guy you're not sure if he's just fuckoff huge or if he's just moderately huge and it's forced perspective.

You don't think it's forced perspective.

You are absolutely trying not to panic spiral.

You are absolutely doing a horrible job at that.

"Well," he opens the file before him and there's a news article, proudly proclaiming "Locals Die in Horrible Freak Accident" like that's not some form of you that was looking like some smear on the pavement, "there's this. Fingerprints match up. Can check for dental if you're really curious."

"Were there even any teeth left after that," you mumble as you take and read the offered article. Seven people were involved, the pictures used are mostly flattering. Hell, you almost don't mind what pic they used for an alternate you but… "that's certainly not the pic I would've wanted. Maybe this me had different tastes?"

You take the time to actually read through the article. It's not helping because for as much as you stare at the page you're not absorbing any information. Some form of detachment, if this was really you? You'd died. A different you but a you nonetheless. You died and you're reading how it happened. There was a lot to unpack in all this and you just needed to put the suitcase away for now. You'd much rather throw it away at this rate.

You were rapidly coming to the understanding that you and Toto were not in Kansas anymore, and there wasn't a convenient yellow brick road to get yourself back home. No easy way to get the hell out of Dodge either. Was it Dodge or the O.K. Corral that was in Kansas? No the O.K. Corral wasn't in Kansas- Dodge was though, that's right.

This analogy was getting away from you and some part of you figured this was just your brain trying to protect yourself but… wait, wasn't this a metaphor? There wasn't 'like' or 'as' or goddammit not again.

You recognize some names here and there but largely everyone involved were perfect strangers. The article doesn't cover if it would've been slow or quick. You hope for the smear that it was quick. Smears like that don't happen slowly, right? Well, not unless it's like a dramatic slide down a window, but not usually across pavement like that.

Still not sure how you feel about all of it. Bit morbid being confronted with your mortality like that.

Certainly answered a lot of questions about your theoretical passing you never thought about. Like if the obituary for you in what you know to be your own home and world is just as… really kinda just mediocre as this. Have you really done nothing of note for an obituary? Damn.

You kept pouring over the article, each pass bringing new words into focus that help connect the picture a little bit, but… Something repeated in the article made you pause, "two alphas, four betas, and an omega?"

There was no decent way to ask about that. Any questions invoked from here would border into dangerous territory better kept between yourself and a private browser history. You knew what you were about but there was no fucking way.

"Their designations," the nice man whose name you still hadn't caught explains, "mostly explaining their secondary gender."

You look at him owlishly. You pray to whatever God might be listening that you wake up shortly. Or that the earth below your feet opens up and swallows you. Whichever comes first, the mortification will snipe you otherwise.

"Please tell me this is an elaborate joke at my expense," you are very quiet as you are trying to get really cool with a lot of things really quickly.

"Negative," the big fucker in the back practically growled and you knew that voice would do things to you if you weren't half stepped out of your own body.

You missed whatever his followup was but your brow furrowed when you checked the date on the article, "I've been dead for months? That…" you let the paper fall from your hands. Everything about this is wild at best and very overwhelming at worst.

A lot of this qualified as worst.

You look up at the two, missing the odd look they shot at each other as you try to pull yourself back together, "so now what? You've got a not-a-smear of me that fell from the sky onto a secure military base, and where I'm from we didn't have," you paused to gesture between the paper and the two soldiers, "dynamics was it? That was just a fanfiction special."

"Fanfiction."

The way he said it was so carefully neutral you paused, "oh my god without Star Trek to popularize fanfiction and the fan community, how has fandom evolved? Is fanfiction a thing- well, yes, it does fanfics have been a thing since Dante Alighieri wrote the Divine Comedy and even before- well, the question is more if it's still popularized? Are there still the wattpad fics of- I am getting so off track. What exactly is the next step?"

You look from the nice man to the big fucker and back, neither saying anything but looking at you with careful blankness.

You felt like you were being weighed and measured in their eyes.

You hoped to anyone listening that you weren't found wanting at least. Not when you're in the shit situation it looks like you ever so increasingly fell into.

"Considering I'm. Not smear. And very much not from here? Are blanks a thing? Or is that what a beta is I'm," you trail off, brow furrowing, "fuzzy. On the whole thing. The flavor of understanding, dynamics, and population skew tended to be dependant on the author's level of horny."

The did get a bit of a snort from the pretty one before you, the one in the back tilting his head just so as the pretty one spurred you on, "okay please don't take this the wrong way, you have given me nothing to go on but A/B/O and-" a finger was raised in question to that, you quickly explaining, "the fanfic shorthand for the universe without being a mouthful. Anyway- I've seen population numbers being roughly the same across the board, I've seen alphas and omegas at roughly 1% of the population of society on either end, I've seen alphas at about 5% and omegas at 1%- those ones are usually the most horny I swear.

"And it's all over the board, no consistency- sometimes it's betas are infertile, sometimes they're the straightman to the comedy that's an alpha and omega trying to woo each other without being too horny to function. Sometimes it's a sliding scale where being beta just means you're more the more middle-ground regulated hormonally with alphas and omegas being the opposing ends of a spectrum. Can you please say something and give me a fucking break because my panic rambles are probably like. Some kinda prejudiced. I'm still not over the 'I'm supposed to be a smear on the ground we don't even have dental images of to confirm who it is anymore' nugget you dropped on me. I think I'm doing well for this"

You would rather not tell them that as soon as you're out of this box of a room you were gonna be curled up in a ball and unabashedly weeping. That was none of their business.

The pretty one gave you what you're sure was supposed to be a reassuring smile but the quiet stretched just a bit too long. You looked from one to the other before leaning forward, "is this supposed to be soothing in some way? Because it's just a bit of an extended awkward silence and that's uh-"

It was the big one in the back's turn to give an amused snort, the pretty one looking bashful, "right, sorry, we uh-"

You jerk a bit, "wait, was that supposed to be some scent thing," you really didn't wanna say pheromones and potentially dig yourself into a deeper, more awkward hole based on Horny Pseudoscience.

Pretty rubbed the back of his neck, "something like that. You really couldn't smell anything?"

You know the exact Face you're making. It's very much your 'I have told you this and I'm getting tired of having to repeat it' face. You can tell he clocks it but for the record, because to your mortification this has to be recorded, you simply give a succinct, "no, I haven't smelled anything. Not from you, not from him," you jerk your head towards the big fucker, "and not from douchebag from be- Williams! His name was Williams. Nothing. Really had no clue why you were fanning the door when you came in."

You sigh, rubbing the heels of your palms into your eyes, "okay. Assuming I'm not about to be put into past tense a second time. Do we have any idea what popped me out here?"

The sentences are stilted, you know you're getting more rattled the longer you're here but sue you alright it's been the worst six hours of your life here.

They just continue to look at you, pretty keeping a polite almost customer service look as big one just stares unceasingly.

"Right. Okay. Am I going to be reintegrated to society or is this," you gesture around the little room as much as you can, "looking like my home for the foreseeable future."

No change in what you can see of either's expression, and you just sag. Deep breath in, deep breath out, "cool. Alright. Well. I know nothing of how biology is altered here, I'm not sure how that has impacted changes throughout history, and frankly I don't know what your pop culture has done. I'm assuming math and written languages are largely the same but in all fairness I don't know what I don't know."

You just stare quietly at the table for a bit longer before looking back at the two of them, "is there anything else you need because I can feel the freakout creeping up and while I know there's no real privacy, uh…"

The pretty one looked back to the big one, at some point you're sure you'll get some sort of names but for now? Now you watch the big one nod, the pretty one give you a polite smile and some vaguely polite bullshit your brain is swiftly going too far out to hear.

You only hope that whoever is behind the mirror is polite enough to look away as you put your head down on the table and give yourself the opportunity to, just this once, cry. As a treat.

[Next Chapter -> ]

#rambles from the morgue #a for effort and all that

127 notes · View notes

astarlitsoul · 2 months

Text

Morning Star

Azriel x OC

@starfallweek prompt: Character A is a fallen star, Character B finds them.

A/n: This is my first time posting on tumblr (Ik I'm a decade late) and my first time trying to write fanfic. I wanted to give this prompt from Starfall Week a try. I hope to make at least a second part bc I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Feedback is appreciated, I hope you enjoy.

This is set a year after ACOSF when the red star (likely Aelin) was seen by Rhysand on Starfall.

Warnings: Angst, blood, wounds (not too graphic), I think that's it...

Rhys had truly outdone himself this year. In anticipation of Nesta and Cassian’s wedding, the High Lord had created his largest guest list yet for the upcoming Starfall. The House of Wind had been undergoing preparations for the week prior to the holiday in preparation for all the guests. The residence was being readied to host the courtiers and their plus ones, the ruling families of allied courts, and Keir and Lord Devlon plus their ilk. Even the owners of businesses the Inner Circle frequented had been extended an invitation.

Azriel had attended far more of the balls than he could remember. In his youth, Rhys, Cassian, and he would perch atop the roof of Rhys’ mother's house to watch the streaks of light until they dwindled away. In his adolescence, it was not uncommon for one of them, often Cassian, to bring their lover at the time and share kisses under the show. (Of course, the perpetrator would be teased to no end the following day.) More recently, as Rhys and Cass found their mates, Azriel found himself missing those days. He was happy for his brothers, and he loved his found sisters. But that didn’t change the feelings of unworthiness that were spurred when he was left without a date at event after event.

In the recent weeks leading up to Starfall, these thoughts were the subject of Azriel’s dreams. The dreams were not nightmares, per se, which Azriel was well acquainted with. They all began with a depiction of a different Starfall from his youth. However, the good memories were soured when Rhys and Cassian would fall silent beside him atop the roof. Azriel would call out for them, but their eyes would remain glued to the sky as if seeing something he couldn’t. They pointed and murmured things he couldn’t hear before they grabbed him in an attempt to winnow away.

Even now, as he flew home the morning before the holiday, he found himself thinking over the dreams. Lost in thought, he was surprised to find himself flying over the quaint cabin. He had subconsciously altered his flight path to pass the first home he’d known. Landing softly in front of Rhys’ mother’s house, he scanned his surroundings before entering. Assured that the sun was just beginning its ascent and that much of the world still slept, he entered the cabin.

Strolling through the small foyer and into the kitchen, he observed just how worn it was. As boys, they did a number on the cabin, leaving lasting scuffs on the floor and permanent dents in their favorite chairs. He loved the damages now, seeing them for what they were. Signs of life, proof that joy and love had filled the space. Proof that even he had known joy and love. After walking through the small rooms, he exited and flew up to the roof. He told himself he wouldn’t get too comfortable, that he’d rest for only a few moments before heading to the House of Wind. Facing the spot where the sun threatened to rise from the ocean, he took in the orange and pink hues of the pre-dawn sky. While Velaris was mostly obscured by the trees, he could glimpse the city in the distance.

His musings were interrupted by a rising feeling that moved from his stomach up behind his ribs. His shadows, which had settled into languid movements upon arrival at the cabin, began flaring out from him in a frenzy. He inhaled deeply at the foreign sensation, and it was then that he noticed the first star in the darkening sky. Azriel cocked his head at it. Prythian's brightest star — and the last to disappear each morning — should lay behind him in the sky. His confusion only grew as the star began flickering and growing.

No, not growing, approaching. The white-hot mass was careening towards him. He ducked, lying flush against the roof, his shadows making themselves scarce in the presence of the foreign glow. He closed his eyes against the brightness before he felt a wave of searing heat through his leathers as it passed overhead. Only when the light stopped attempting to shine through his shut lids, did Azriel open his eyes. Standing once more he looked himself over, then at his surroundings. Whatever it was had bowed the trees in its path, unobscuring the view to Velaris and leaving char marks and a glittering substance in its wake.

Let us see. Let us investigate. A few of his shadows hovered in front of his face, and he permitted them to follow the path. Reaching for Truth-Teller, Azriel wracked his mind for any information he’d know of objects falling into their atmosphere. He’d gone with Rhys to see multiple experts about the upcoming celestial event. The High Lord was still shaken by the red star he’d seen during last year's Starfall. Yet none of the court’s prophets nor astronomers had forecast this. They’d all claimed the view on Starfall was set to be uninterrupted, that only good things would come from the spectacle. It was another reason that Azriel’s dreams confused him. And a reason why he didn’t mention it to his brothers.

There is blood, Master. So much blood. His shadows whizzed back to him, wrapping around his middle and tugging him in the direction of the foreign object. Taking to the sky, he spotted a clearing a few hundred feet behind the cabin that hadn’t been there before. Upon passing the last of the trees, Azriel drew up short and hovered over the sight. There were so few things that turned his stomach after centuries of horrors. But the sight of a body laying in the crater, a tangle of limbs and wings and branches and moss had the foreign feeling returning to his chest. Landing softly, he rolled the hilt of his dagger in his palm, a nervous tic of his. He stood at the edge of the crater and found his throat tightening as he took a closer look.

The being was breathtaking, even as it lay limply in the ground. Pale blue feathers lay beneath the body, adorning wings that bent at a too-wrong angle. The being was dressed in nondescript robes of a darker blue hue, which now lay in tatters. Much of the flesh that wasn’t shredded, was obscured by long, curly locks of dark hair and a thick layer of glittering dust. His shadows were snaking their way towards the body, picking up some of the glistening flecks as they approached when they froze suddenly.

Alive. But the breaths are too shallow. There is a great wound.

A faint groan escaped the being and he found himself stepping down into the crater. Precaution thrown to the wind, he saw no need to intimidate the dying creature. It appeared female, as he took in the soft facial features and shapely figure as she lay against the dark soil.

“Hello?” he asked gently.

Another groan, then a cry as the being shifted. Tightening his grip on Truth-Teller, Azriel watched a shaky hand emerge from beneath a heap of feathers to reach for what he believed was a thigh. It was then he saw the wound. The Illyrian winds had been known to whisk away even the largest tents and banners, typically with sandbags and iron posts still attached. The stake of one of those posts was protruding through the leg, too close to the center for her femur to still be intact.

“Hey hey hey,” he sputtered as he reached for the delicate hand hoping to prevent her from causing herself further harm. While he was no healer, he knew that the bones and arteries in the thigh posed a life threat when damaged. The moment his scarred hand closed around her wrist her eyes flew open.

Time may as well have frozen. His eyes met her own, pools of a similar hazel but flecked with stardust. Within his chest, he felt a new ebb and flow. Not of his diaphragm as he remembered to breathe, but of his end of the mating bond that had awoken within him. He was shaken from the moment when another cry left her lips.

She began speaking frantically in a language he’d never heard as she attempted to move, her eyes jumping between his face, his shadows, his flared wings, and the weapon in his hand. Her feathered wings shifted again, as she attempted to free her other arm. Sheathing his dagger, he held up his hands, a sign that he meant no harm. Realizing the efforts to free herself were futile, the female stilled, throwing him a pleading look.

He brought his hands towards the wound slowly, one hand steadying the bloodied stake before the other felt beneath her leg. Wherever the stake had come from, this piece had broken off when it caught in her leg.

She must be moved. She will not last long. His shadows had been working their way around her form, through the hair, feathers, and tatters as they tried to gain a full picture for their master. A few of them brushed the hair off of her face, while others seemed to stroke her hand. Something in his chest squeezed at their report.

“Let me,” he gestured to himself, “help you.” He finished by making a scooping motion with his arms. Azriel had no idea if she understood his miming, or if the bond had come to life in her chest too, but she nodded once in agreement. He pushed an arm under her back gently, before leaning her torso up from the ground. Her face screwed in pain and he paused as she took a shaky breath. He ordered his shadows to steady the stake before pushing his arms under her legs as well.

Standing up, he took note of her limp wings. What he had believed were two large wings, were actually two sets of wings. Looking up at her face, he flared his shadows as he prepared to shadow-walk to Velaris. Once again, despite her ragged breathing and pained face, she nodded at him with resignment in her eyes. Azriel was unsure if she could feel it, but he tried to soothe her through the bond before he allowed his shadows to envelope them. He hoped that she was able to receive the calming waves he sent her, and none of the panic he felt as his mate’s blood soaked his leathers.

#starfallweek2024 #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar oc #starfallweek #starfall #its my first post be nice plsss

110 notes · View notes

mirrorsmoonlight · 4 months

Text

☆ ~ you can buy my love but you don’t want it

pairing: treech x gn!reader summary: you rent a boyfriend to experience what it’s like to be in a relationship (and to spice up your summer), despite not being big on them. in the end it wasn’t you who caught feelings. warnings: modern au, second person, fluff to angst?, treech acts like a bf cause that’s what rent a boyfriend’s do (but he kinda quickly falls for the reader), one of the longest i’ve ever written

summer break contained warm temperatures and frizzy hair from the humidity. it also turns out, that boredom is something that’s stretched through the days of the long summer. and to perish that boredom you wanted to do something exciting, and if it wasn’t exploring new countries and hanging out with friends, it’ll be something that is out of the ordinary.

after finalizing the decision, you clicked that button that sealed your fate. feeling a rush of adrenaline rush through your veins. tomorrow is the day, and you’d made sure to pick your best looking outfit for this occasion. but not for the man that’s going to be stuck by your side, but for you.

the wind blew warm air onto your face as you stepped out the door, taking a second to admire the beautiful view; the sky a bold blue with clouds lounging in the sky, the ultimate laughter coming from the families and friends, and the beautiful greenery swaying and shining with healthy limbs.

your feet created a rhythm against the pavement soon after as you began to make your way to the meeting place - which was only 10-15 minutes away - with your tote bag hanging on your shoulder. only when you’d finally arrived, did you see him, standing infront of the restaurant looking as gorgeous as he had in the picture.

his head shot up at the sound of your footsteps, pausing for a bit before a smile plastered itself on his face. “hey, (name) right,” he held his hand out in a polite handshake after you nodded, clasping your hands together after shaking it, “my name’s treech if you’d forgotten already.”

you smiled, his warm attitude and welcoming smile killing your nervousness and causing you to relax, “it would be a shame if i’d forgotten the name of someone as captivating as you. plus i would say it’s pretty unique, you don’t really see a lot of people with that name.”

a laugh left his lips at your teasing, before hitting you with one of his own remarks, “and it would’ve been a shame if you’d arrived just a few minutes later. the food looked a little too good that it almost made me forget who i was here for.”

fondness was the only thing present on your face despite you rolling your eyes, “well now that i’m here you won’t forget, cause today will be the best day (date) of your life.” watching the smile not once disappearing as he shook his head, before using his free hand to grasp the handle of the door, holding it open so you could go first, “well then we better get to it then, shall we?”

the restaurant was fancy, pristine hardwood floors and flawless white walls boxing in the squared tables and chairs made of mahogany. as he talked to the hostess you scanned your eyes to every corner, eyes shining with facination, not even realizing that you were now being led to the table if it wasn’t for the grip on your hand.

the table was against the window, allowing the sun to beat down onto the people inside. it was also dressed in a white tablecloth, protecting the tabletop from dirtiness and stains. treech paused, making sure to pull out your chair for you to sit down before taking a seat in his own.

“so what do you want to do after we’re done eating,” his attention was wholly on you as he asked, leaving you abit startled yet you quickly shook it off.

“i was hoping that we could buy some ice cream at the truck near by and walk on the beach together,” you hands busied themselves with unraveled the silverware from the napkin. placing them on the table, before spreading the napkin over on your lap to make sure you wouldn’t dirty your clothes while eating. “then we could stroll the shopping strip nearby.”

you looked back over at him, surprised at seeing that the whole time he never once took his eyes off of you.

the lunch was filling - making you convinced you might not even have room for such ice cream you’d mentioned before - and delicious, the aroma wafting out of the door as you both walked out. as he strode back up to your side he gently removed the tote you were carrying onto his own shoulder, before reattaching your hands together, both of you walking in silence.

you led him to the ice cream truck that was just a few blocks over, turning to him to ask him what he wanted as you ordered. only having to wait a few minutes before one of the employees came back with your order in hand. once the ice cream cones were secured, you carefully handed his to him, setting a slow pace as you walked the direction that would lead you to the beach.

it didn’t take that long to get there, but the both of you were almost done with your ice cream. nonetheless even with the cone in hand, you made sure your shoes were off, holding the insides of it with just the tips of your fingers. no chatter being created between the two of you, just the sounds of the waves crashing against shore and the seagulls that flew overhead accompanying you two.

eventually as the trail of footprints on shore grew longer, the remainder of the ice cream became shorter; nothing but crumbs harboring its place on your fingertips.

so you looked towards the horizon, the sun shining like a lightbulb in the sky as you admired the beauty of it. and noticing your focus was averted away from him he quickly pulled out his phone, aiming the camera towards you before quickly snapping a few pictures.

a grin lighting up his face, knowing that the sun could never compare to the beauty he saw in you.

the sand was stubborn, sticking onto your feet like a second skin. and when relief was finally found, more crawled up and held their place leaving you frustrated. and noticing this treech abandoned his effort of doing the same to come to your rescue; picking you up in bridal style even though you loudly verbalized your protests.

“what’re you doing,” you held onto his shoulders as you laughed. “doing what a boyfriend would do, obviously,” he smiled down at you with such a genuine smile it made your stomach fill with butterflies, a pink hue beginning to spread across your face.

luckily, his long strides across the sand let you arrive to the dry cement faster. him gently setting you down on the bench before taking the spot next to you to dust his sand covered feet.

your eyes were trained on his figure for a good few minutes before you hid your face in your shoulder, not wanting him to see the effect he left on you after what he just did.

the next stop was the shopping strip like you’d promised, the streets not full but not bare either. neither of you decided to stop and browse through the stores, choosing that this would be a great time to just aimlessly walk together hand in hand.

but time went by quickly, the sky now a dark purple - soon going to fade into a black - with stars beginning to pop out of their hiding places. and just as time trickled away the strength in your feet did the same; the soles throbbing from the journey you’d had. so, you stopped at one of the benches that were along the path, resting for a bit. only for a few moments later treech announcing he was going to pick something that he’d saw on the way.

you nodded, too tired to object to what he’d plan to do. so while he was gone you observed the people around you, trying to distract yourself. when he’d returned you noticed he held something behind his back, heart rate speeding up in what you didn’t know was adrenaline or excitement.

“since the day will end soon, i wanted to give you one last gift,” your attention was caught, tiredness leaving your body for a blissful minute. he pulled the mysterious gift from behind his back and presented it to you; a perfectly wrapped bouquet of faded pink tulips in his hands.

“treech, you didn’t have to,” you shook your head as you looked at him but a thankful spark was in your eyes. “i wanted to,” he sat down next to you before handing you the bouquet, watching you for a moment, “you were probably the best fake partner i ever had.”

you chuckled before leaning in to hug him, “thank you treech, it means a lot that you even put the effort in doing this last minute.” his hand gently soothed your back, rubbing circles into it before pulling away, “well as much as i enjoyed the day it’s probably time to get you home.” you looked at him for one last moment before nodding, gathering your stuff.

when you arrived at your place you felt disappointed. spending time with him probably being one of the most memorable things that would happen all summer. but you knew that what you had was only temporary. you knowing that even though you loved it, you couldn’t love it forever since both of you were in different places in your lives - you not focused on wanting a relationship.

you turned towards him as you stood infront of your front door, ready to say your goodbyes. “i’m glad i chose you,” your shining eyes focused on his own, “if it was someone else i probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as i had.”

he nodded before stepping closer to you, one of his hands cupping the back of your neck. and recognizing what he’d planned to do, you gently placed your hand on his chest, “i didn’t pay for a kiss?”

“you don’t need to,” he shook his head before pausing, waiting for you to consent first. and once the smile popped on your face and you began to lean in, he took the opportunity, kissing you like it would be the last time.

and once you pulled away, he let you go. watching as you strode up the steps. the last thing he saw before you disappeared was your beautiful smile that you shot over your shoulder.

a/n: i wrote this in just a few hours because i wanted to post it before it was 2024. so i wanted to say Happy New Year’s Eve or Happy New Year’s, depending where you are!

#🪓. lumberjack #🕊️🐍. tbosas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x you #tbosas imagine #tbosas x reader #tbosas #treech tbosas #modern au #the hunger games #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x reader #hunger games imagine #district 7 #treech x reader #treech x you #treech imagine

78 notes · View notes

neverchecking · 11 months

Note

Hello!

May I request a Yandere! Sky x Female! Reader? How she tempts him away from Hylia on Skyloft? Plus with a 18+? 😉😄

Have a wonderful day/night! Stay safe and healthy!

By July-Angel-Wings

You absolutely can, Darling! Stay safe and healthy as well, drink your water too!

This is such a delicious idea. I'm ngl, this kinda got away with me bc I got on the idea of Sub! Sky whimpering and just being total putty during a good all sloppy toppy and I just- yeah.

I'm tagging all NS*W on this blog as #Cindersins in case you all were curious!

There is 18+ smut so MDNI!

Smut CW: Blowjob, Sky Whimpers, and cries. Just a little. As a treat.

He had seen you in passing a few times. A few times seemed to be all he needed. Because those few times were all that was needed for him to fall absolutely head over heels for you. Call him a hopeless romantic, because that was what he was. Hopeless, for you.

It wasn't hard. He found himself comparing you a Loftwing at times. Dastardly evasive when you didn't want to be found, bright and exuberant when you did, and gloriously beautiful. Full of life and the spark freedom that he sometimes saw in Crimson's own eyes. Perhaps you were a Loftwing's spirit locked in a Hylian's shell. It would make sense.

What made even more sense with that analogy was the fact that Loftwings were soul partners. One part of his, admittedly, shattered soul. Sky had seen a lot of things in his travels, things that wore him down to his core. That broke him apart into pieces, free for the taking by the right person. One would always reside with Crimson, but the others? They were yours. All yours. Free for you to pluck and give as you saw fit.

All of them were for you.

Always for you.

His problem lied, however, in where he resided. Skyloft was where he was born and raised, trained to be a knight, where Zelda and Groose and those he once saw as relevant lived. You lived down below. Among the trees and wildlife, scaling mountains as if you put them there yourself. Hiding among caves and dwelling near rivers with the softest patters of feet. You were of the Hylians below, he was not. But he would fall for you. Jump from the edge of Skyloft, leaving everything behind for you. In a heartbeat. You were tempting him with your luscious curves and fluttering lashes, eyes that reflected the stars and moon above you. He would tumble from grace, from the position of Hylia's chosen hero, if it meant you would look at him that way he saw you looking at the night sky.

Full of nothing but pure innocence and awe.

He ached to just hold you, cherish you, sings your praises to the Golden three themself just so they could see you in half of the same light he saw you.

Perhaps that was why he found himself gently easing forward. Sun had warned him of the Earth dwellers. How they were to be of no use to him, not when she could have everything up in Skyloft. Up with her, Hylia incarnate herself, but she was a damned fool to not see the worth you provided. How your natural glow, just soft enough to create an effervescent halo around your form, was more than enough for him for a thousand lifetimes. It was soft and comforting, like a dimming fireplace in a cabin as the occupants lie in each others arms, content with each other's presence. Rather than Sun's own. Her's was bright and intruding, something you would have to shield yourself from before taking it in. Like a sudden crack of lightning, hot and sudden. It was one of the many things that differentiated the two of you. One of the many things he favored and reasoned was something worthy of eternal damnation.

Honestly, he simply couldn't help himself when he saw you out in the open. Nothing but gentle movements and anoetic simplicity. Of course, your eyes landed on him right away. Of course, he offered his name, introducing him to you in a way that would paint him in such a way he couldn't be a threat no matter how one looked at it.

And it worked. It took time, so, so much time, but he got close. Close enough you could sink your perfect little claws into and drag him into whatever depths you deemed suitable. And he fell. He fell hard.

Right into your hands, exactly where you wanted him.

A whimper left his lips as your hands toyed with his shaft, gently dragging up and down as your drool dribbled over the ruddy head of his cock. It gleamed with both spit and pre-cum, which bulbed out in clear pears before you were lapping it up. He couldn't even begin to describe the sensation of your tongue, firm and sure, swiping around his dick before you were enveloping the tip with your mouth.

Sky jolted with a start, hands flying to your hair, weaving between the strands as pure euphoria shot through his system. Igniting his nerves in a hit of pure adrenaline as every one of them sang in delight. His toes curled within his boots as they kicked and dug at the dirt, aching for some sort of traction as you refused to part. He yelped low in his throat, trying to swallow his cries when you bobbed further. Every part of him curled in a tight coil, curling tighter and tighter, nearly snapping before you popped up with a lewd suck. You licked your lips, tongue darting out to wet your plump lips, painting them with a shiny sheen as you stared him down, eyes narrowed like a pure temptress.

The hand returned, squeezing right above his balls and cooling any premature bust. His eyes burned at the lose of control, but not for the reasons you may have thought. No, they were tears of pure, unaltered adoration. His fall may have been great, but it was worth it. To have you, his newly crowned Goddess, on your knees before him, deeming him worthy enough to bless with your presence. What he wouldn't do for you, to you, with you. You merely had to ask.

You returned your mouth to his leaking cock, starting from where your fingers continued to squeeze and leading back up to the head of his cock. You pressed a final parting kiss to the head, looking up at him through your lashes.

He cried out in agony, bucking into your hand against his own wishes. He wanted to paint your pretty face a divine white. It was otherworldly as it was, and to mark it had to be a sin beyond simple punishment, but to have it marked with something screaming that you were his and his alone was to tempting. Too much.

Tears pearled in his eyes before leaking over in fat pearls over the apples of his cheeks as his fingers curled tighter in your hair. Your fingers remained steady around his aching cock as it bobbed along your lips, which parted just enough for your devilish tongue to dart out and kitten lick the head. Just enough to have it bounce back against your tongue and for you to repeat the process.

The tears didn't stop as he curled over your form holding as close as you would allow. Eventually, you felt he had earned your mercy, loosening your fingers and sucking harshly on the head of his dick, cheeks hollowed as you gave a silent demand in your eyes. While it wasn't highlighting your features, he was more than happy to obey your whim this way, pulling your head close enough your nose brushed along the plain of his stomach, dumping your hard earned prize down your throat-- which constricted around his length every time you swallowed. A strangled whine left his throat, something he wasn't even aware he was capable of, as his back arched.

When he pulled away, eyes stinging and red as he stared down at you.

His fall was great, but he would do it a million times over, re-shatter his soul, brand his being with your mark, do it all should you demand, if only to keep you this close to him for the rest of time. He would slaughter kingdoms if you so pleased if just to see you smile. He would orchestrate Hylia's own demise should you ask. All for you, you, you.

His free little bird.

#lu Sky #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #loz x reader #loz #legend of zelda #yandere legend of zelda #sky whimpers #and cries #just a bit #as a treat #to me #Cindersins

258 notes · View notes

somethinglikero · 7 months

Text

First Snowfall of the Year - Megumi X Reader

Flowers in this bouquet: Megumi Peonies

Colors of flowers: White and Purple {established relationship, fluff}

Florist Note: This is my first fanfic, and it is pretty cliché, hope you enjoy! Requests are open!

While you and Megumi were enjoying your teas, your head was resting on top of his chest, enveloped in the comforting warmth of his embrace. A fierce wind was whistling across the windows of your dorm room as your favorite show played on TV. The sun had set long before, and the room was dark. The TV was the only source of light. As you turned your head, you noticed your charming boyfriend engaged in the TV series that he claimed he "didn't like". You couldn't help but squeeze his cheeks. You chuckled softly. Megumi gave you a dirty look and grumbled, but you knew he wasn't upset at all to the fact that you were giving him attention.

You noticed delicate snowflakes drifting gently from the dark sky when you looked out the window. Your smile grew in seconds as you felt excitement rise up inside you. "Megumi, it's snowing!" Your words were filled with joy.

He raised his head from the television, his attitude shifting from indifference to curiosity. "It is, indeed. What's so important?"

You gave a naughty grin. "The big deal is that this is the first snowfall of the year, and I'm not going to let you sit here and watch. We're going to enjoy it outside."

Megumi's usual stoic demeanor cracked, and a faint hint of amusement danced in his eyes. "You're going to make me go out in the cold just to play in the snow?"

"Absolutely!" You replied with determination. "It's one of life's simple joys. Plus, I won't take 'no' for an answer."

After a bit of playful persuasion, you managed to convince Megumi to leave the warmth of your dorm room. You bundled up in coats, scarves, and gloves and stepped out into the crispy winter air.

The snow was falling gently, creating a serene and enchanting scene. You strolled through the campus, your laughter echoing in the quiet night. Megumi's reserved nature seemed to melt away in the presence of the soft, powdery snow.

You felt Megumi's hands brush against yours as you looked around in awe. You turned to face him, however he was staring at you through adoring eyes. With a gentle smile, you intertwined your cold fingers with his. The world felt magical as you shared stories and watched the campus buildings and trees transform into a winter wonderland, walking around hand in hand.

Despite the freezing weather, Megumi couldn't help but feel his heart warming up as the night went on and the snow began to fall softly.

[i do not own any of the characters i write for. all of these works belong to me.]

#ro's flowershop ✿︎#megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader snow #megumi

59 notes · View notes

pinksugarscrub · 8 months

Text

Addiction

Earth-42! Miles Morales x reader

Scenario: Coffee date with music on the side.

(optional : song - sabor a mi)

The sun was still relatively high in the sky as you exited Miles' apartment complex. Your shoes hitting the pavement with an audible 'smack' as you jumped down the last two steps.

"Oye, what did I say-" Miles gently tugged you back to his side, a small smile on his lips. "-don't wander off without me."

You looked back at him sheepishly. Not hesitating to wrap your own arm around his waist. The soft glow of the sun hitting your face. "Sorry sorry, just excited."

Miles chuckled before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "I can see that." He couldn't help but admire the sweet and innocent look on your face. Eyes always so full of life. "I'm pretty sure you have an addiction chiquita."

The two of you began walking down the gum stained pavement. Cars whizzing by without a care. It was times like this that made you fall deeper in love with Brooklyn.

Coming from a smaller town the city both amazed and frightened you. You had to consider yourself lucky that your mom had rekindled her friendship with Miles' mother, Rio. The thought of traversing this new world without Miles sounded unfathomable. No...a life without Miles sounded unfathomable.

You rummaged through the pocket of your jacket. 'Visions Academy' embedded in bold letters across your chest. "It's not an addiction! I can stop whenever I want..." The pout on your lips unfurling once you felt the familiar wire of your earphones.

Carefully slipping the left earbud into his ear before settling the other in your right. "Plus, who am I to deny someone when they offer to buy me a drink?" You blinked at him as you feigned innocence. Coughing into your fist as you muttered his name. "I'm talking about you Morales"

Miles laughed, slipping his phone out of his pocket as he connected the end of the aux chord. Not giving you the opportunity to protest as he pressed shuffle on the playlist he had been creating for you.

"Como que it's my fault?" He gently flicked your forehead. A smug smile on his lips. "You're the one who was practically begging me to take you out right now."

You squeaked at the sudden pain inflicted on you. Sending Miles a harmless glare that quickly dissipated once he kissed the area.

"Yeah well," you huffed. Puffing out your cheeks as butterflies filled your stomach. Miles wasn't normally so affectionate. Especially out in public but, you weren't going to complain. "I wanted to grab some for your mom too. She's covering someone's shift tonight, right?"

Miles Morales cared about many things. His alter ego, his education, his family, ---but most importantly--- his mother. Ever since his father had passed away there was a subtle yet noticeable shift in the way Miles lived out his life.

Working harder to maintain the house while she was away. His room still cluttered but much more organized. Homework completed before she got home. Even going as far as trying to learn how to cook.

Miles also had his uncle to thank for supporting them financially seeing as his mom wanted him to focus on school. Not willing to force her little boy to grow up too soon.

That's why it meant the world to him to hear, see, you cared for his family just as much as you cared for him.

"You remember that?" He didn't even attempt to hide the lovesick look on his face as he smiled at you. "I told you that like a week ago."

Your favorite song began playing as the tension built between the two of you.

"Of course I do," you murmured. Eyes tracing the outline of his jaw before moving back up to his soft brown eyes. "I love your mom and...I love you."

You knew you should have anticipated him spinning you around, pressing his lips to yours. But no matter how many times you had kissed. This boy always left you breathless.

Your collective bodies shuffled to a stop in front of the coffee shop illuminated by the dim yellow light bulbs implemented for the aesthetic.

You were starting to wonder if he would taste even better after a cup of coffee... Maybe you do have an addiction.

#atsv #spiderman atsv #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales #fluff

83 notes · View notes

wintertimestoryteller · 9 months

Text

Vermeil Adoration

Fierce Deity x Implied Deity Reader (can be Linked Universe or not) Drabble

Me, working on Act IIII and Act V of the LU Fairy Tale Collection: Alright so if we do this with slightly more sleep on us and figure a few things out for First I think it should be good to go-

Also Me: *remembers that because of the nature of the Fairy Tale Collection FD will be missing, is immediately assaulted with an idea, sighs, opening up a new WIP* You know what I'll come back to that, I can't not write for him if he's going to be left out.

For the FD Simps/lovers plus myself as I work on the Fairytale Collection, want to post two chapters at once and also crosspost on Ao3 plus life's been busy, apologies for the delay.

You were created from the breath of life itself.

You are the divinity found in the howling of winds cutting through the woods, the snarling of lightning down to the earth, attempting to touch something it may not have and scorch it so deeply new growth would flourish in a maddened frenzy, the sunlight kissing the ice tenderly though it may never do more than bring the crystalizing to shine, tears dripping knowingly from it's cold gaze as the water turns to rain, watering the land in it's unknowable grief in the closest way it could ever touch the sun in the sky. The joyful sound of wolves singing the moon's beauty with their howls, the birds merrily carrying the melody ever onwards so the sun may also partake of it, gleeful frolicking of fawns and foals discovering the world that the Golden Three left in their wake, the symphony of every animal and nature itself at it's finest.

You look at life itself and find divinity in everything.

So by the nature Farore so lovingly made sure you'd have, one would think you and the one hylians, hyruleans and beasts had dubbed 'The Fierce Deity' would never be able to coexist.

You've heard the one's watched over by your sister in divinity, ever watchful time herself with her diamond wings and gaze who pierced to the end of eternity itself with Nayru's patience whisper in primal terror and avarice drenched loathing about him to the trees in every corner of the land, heard beasts under the watch of death and rot himself curse his name to the winds and rain with as much ferocity and fury induced fear as the restless whispers of those denied existence, your brother in eternity with his shell of obsidian and the flames of Din's desire of consumption ever burning in his gaze daring not cross where the ivory and jade forged spirit passed. And of the horror and wonderment of your wild beings as they've hissed and howled and growled and screeched to the flowers and stones of nature.

A man like the hunt itself, divine without the vermeil breath of the primordial ones. The unrelenting slash of the blizzard gales in winter against any unfortunate to stand in their way, leaving the cold emptiness and silence behind, stealing the air from the lungs of living beings like the ocean for those unfortunate enough to fall with no sign of land. An ivory specter of death whom seemingly clawed himself from the void, an harbinger for the End with seemingly no rhyme or reason for those who he set his sights into, either to devour their divinity for himself or favor or bless.

A being like that should have been anathema to all you are and stand for. Or at least it's what anyone, including your divine sister and brother would reason.

Which is why you couldn't help but find it slightly comedic that the so called 'awful beast', capable of enacting such violence to consume divinity on a whim if tested. Was so very careful with you, head laid upon your lap in a rare moment of rest as you carefully weaved flowers into a crown.

You were curious, awfully so, like the foxes who roamed your woods in search of amusement and play, you just couldn't help yourself. You knew he was coming, how could you not, when the primal fear of living things echoed in the back of your mind, warning you as it warned animals of a bigger predator in the food chain? But you didn't run. Not in the face of narrowed, calculating pale eyes and alabaster hair and the scent of iron in the air, thick and old you couldn't mistake it for anything but blood and the marrow deep certainty of a lonsdaleite persistence.

Maybe you should of, in hindsight.

Instead you just blinked with evergreen curiosity, fascination bleeding from your lips before you could even think of stopping yourself, head tilted.

"My. Rumors are certainly exaggerated, you're beautiful."

The memory of his bewildered, flustered caution makes you smile a bit, as everything in between flowed naturally like spring petals on a breeze. You feel an armored hand on your cheek, so, so soft and careful, as if you were as fragile as a flower, and a calm, relaxed rumble of tourmaline lazy curiosity and aquamarine fondness, "Anything on your mind, my breath?"

You couldn't help your chuckle, emerald fondness running around the mosaic of your divinity as you gently run your hand through starlit hair, nuzzling the hand on your cheek and hoping to convey even half the warmth he gave you, "Reminiscing, worry not. Rest a bit more before you must go." You hear him sigh as you place the flower crown on his head, as pale as his hair, but as delicate as your sister in divinity's wings, threaded pthalo like the flame of his existence.

"... Must I? I was late this time, it's only proper I redeem myself for making you wait." He questions, reluctant and guilty in equal measure, fondness blooms over your lungs as you poke his nose, smiling bright, if dim as you answer him, "I'd dare not attempt to deny you your nature, I do not know what you hunt, what you're searching for. But it would be cruel to chain you."

The man many had dubbed 'Fierce Deity' nuzzles into your hand, nestling in close like a wolf over catch, you catch the hints of a frown on his face, "It's hardly chaining when I wish to stay, is it?"

Your breath almost is trapped in your lungs, but you shake yourself out of it, chuckling as you brush your lips over his markings, crimson affection as the carmine and lapis lazuli of his Hunt. The cheek of this man, for that's what you all are in the end, divinity or not, "Maybe not, though for all you rest here with me you still itch to run and hunt. Do you not, my dear warrior?"

The silence is only broken by the whispers of the leaves of the woods carried by the wind and the curious chirping of birds, his unwavering moonlit gaze giving away nothing. And it tells you enough.

You smile, brushing your noses together, spring breeze playful and sun warm, "If you're that worried, then just come back earlier, if you can. I'll have something new for you to look at, and I'll always wait. We have time."

In a flash, you find your positions reversed, your back and hair to the flowers and your wonderful, ever mischievous hunter above you, you yelp and you can't help but laugh before the sound is stolen by his lips. And he cradles your cheeky gently, so very kindly, and when he leans back he looks at you as if you're the first glimpse of water for a man in the desert, or the way a wolf longingly looks at the moon, and it cracks the phosphophylite of your soul and fills it with the gilded gold of emerald love, "... Thank you. I will not keep you waiting long again. I shall remain for now, though. The call can wait."

I love you. I want to stay with you.

"I know." Your hands gently thread through his hair, gleeful as you notice the rare curve of a smile as his cap lays abandoned in the glass, but your flower crown remains, "Be safe, when you do go. I'd be lovely if something happened."

I love you too.

He shakes his head, giving you an unimpressed look, "I cannot be harmed in any way that matters."

You fondly roll your eyes, pressing your index and middle finger to your lips, then touching it lightly against his own, he all but freezes. You refuse to allow him to distract you with admittedly charming affection, and you take the opportunity to tug him into your arms, shifting your positions so you can utilize him as a pillow, safer than you ever felt in your many eons of existence, more comfortable than the stars painting the canvas of the sky with their dance, "Promise me you'll be safe, and you can claim what's yours once you're back. For now I tire of your stubbornness."

You feel his chest rumble, maybe a laugh, maybe a purr or a growl, but he holds you close, steady and lovelier than even the world the goddesses created. "As you wish, my dearest blossom."

You both fall asleep to the songs of nature, you know he'll hunt again, you know he'll be gone soon like late night mist. But for now, a promise for an eternity of this, like how the mortals speak of, is enough.

#linked universe x reader #kinda?#Fierce Deity x Reader #FD x Reader #Deity Reader #or at least highly implied #for myself as a bit of a mental break so I can work on the Fairy Tale Collection properly lol #so apologies to anyone who finds it if it's not all that good or to your taste #contains gratuitous amounts of headcanons I have for FD on those sleepless hours #and a small apology for the FD enjoyers who won't find him in the Fairy Tale Collection #next story maybe

93 notes · View notes

bohioeveanga · 5 months

Text

Oh, boy do I got a dumb Zelda theory that I will not be translating into any other language because this will be long as heck...🙃

And I do mean long, so buckle up and get ready. Because the theory goes as follows: what if the Zonai and Minish are somehow connected?

I know I'm grasping at the stupidest straws and I actually thought about it while falling asleep last night, I've only got one open eye this morning while writing this, so these are really rambles of a madwoman!🤣 Still, I think this needs to be discussed. I think there might be, in the smallest of chances, a connection.

Let's start with the obvious, physical traits. There's not much, I know. We only have the extremely large ears and snout. That's about it, really. Minish have lighter skin, and seem to have a feathery tail coming from behind. On the other hand, Zonai have a grayish-greenish skin, overall white hair, and don't have tails. The biggest and most obvious difference is size, with the Minish being small and the Zonai, well, do I really need to explain that? The Zonai are even much taller than Hylians in comparison.

Though it seems they can have a lot hair, both, if we compare Rauru and Ezlo in his Minish form. Who knows if Zonai can grow beards too?

Also, the Minish came from the sky, much like the Zonai did. Coincidence?!

But wait! There's more. Let's talk about designs.

Can you see it? The eye. That effing eye! Took one look at that shield, and all I could think was the Four Sword Sanctuary. Now, granted, that's in FS and FSA, but those stories are connected to MC. I saw the Elemental Sanctuary, and while there's no eye, it's safe to say that maybe there's a connection to the sanctuaries, housing the Four Sword and elements. And the Ranger Constructs seem to have an akin eye to the shield and sanctuary, even hanging at the side of their faces. It's so similar, that I can't help but think there might be a connection. (Low-key, I actually thought the Ranger Constructs would be a new version of the Eyegore.)

Still on the eye-theme, the Zonai themselves have a third eye. You know two other people who seem to have a connection to a third eye? Hmm, yeah, Vaati and Astor.

Now, Astor is from AoC, so I'm not too worried on him, but he's eerily similar to Vaati, to the point I actually believed he was an incarnation of him back before AoC came out. And why not? Similar dark clothes, gold accents, red highlights in magic, the circlet with red jewel, gray skin, maniac tendencies, need I say more? But Vaati used to once be a Minish, remember? He turned human with his newfound powers through the magical cap Ezlo made prior to the MC events. The Minish are creatures of magic and desire good. Zonai too. If we analyze at a slightly scientific and magical perspective, maybe the Minish might have evolved into a large and superior advanced race, even going as far as abandoning there small stature and simplistic lifestyle. Similarly to our smart Sheikahs from BoTW/AoC/ToTK and 10,000 years prior.

Eye these other shots! (See what I did there? No, okay, I'll shut up.😏)

Dark Hyrule Castle in MC? Filled with eye-related puzzles. Zonaite armor? Eye on the freaking helmet! Mazaal, boss for the Fortress of Winds in MC? Eyes on his hands, literally! Plus, who's to say that Mazaal isn't some super ancient prototype of a Construct? Look at the shape of the head and Zonaite helmet! (WHAT IF THE SHEIKAH TOOK INSPIRATION TO CREATE GOHDAN FOR THE TOWER OF THE GODS IN WW?! Theory for another day.)

Now, finally giving a shut-eye to that topic (I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself,) let's talk about Constructs. Asides from Mazaal above, you know what device is super similar between Minish and Zonai?

A classic Zelda staple seems way too similar for this particular theory. Sure, the Remote Bomb is gray, but the aspect between the Remote and Time Bomb are way too similar. Even the 'fuse' is pretty much the exact same look and color! On top of that, its usage is exactly the same. It's a small stupid piece of circumstantial evidence, but I'm going with it.

Now, finally, for my last bit. TotK brought some new flora into the game, fitting naturally. But there's one that's unique and stands out, and surprisingly shares a part of its name with a plant that makes an appearance in MC. Can you guess?

Aren't they pretty? The shape and look of the Brightbloom and Pico Bloom, respectively, are identical. When the bud is close, its shape is similar as well. When the bud is open, it provides lighting in its general area. Pico Blooms, in particular, offer different lights, asides from the above yellow, including, yes, white. Pico Blooms lights glow very obviously while the Brightbloom's glow is steady and unwavering. While it's hard to guess if Pico Blooms are able to provide as much light as a Brightbloom in the darkness, maybe the Depths, the similarities are impossible to ignore. Even the way the leaves at the bottom of the stem are similar. Brightblooms don't make an appearance in BotW, much like the Pico Blooms do not exist, or at least, not seen, in any other Zelda game. And while Pico Blooms serve more as a side quest appearance, they still form a part of the Minish's general flora. Brightblooms appeared right after the Upheaval, a crucial item to explore the Depths. And they seem to have a strong connection with the Zonai, as they are seen as a part of the Ranger Constructs decoration, as well as within the shrines, and even in the mines and other architectural locations found in the Depths.

The entire Miner's freaking Set is an entire copy to the Brightbloom!

Welp, that's my tea and essay for today, y'all. I think I'm still kind of asleep, despite everything I wrote and all the above images. Am I crazy and seeing too much into it? Probably am, but it seems there's a connection. Maybe the Minish evolved into the Zonai, much like the Zora evolved into the Rito. Maybe the Minish, while trying magic, backfired into the Zonai? Or maybe they're just completely separate from each other. The possibilities are endless. At the end of the day, that's what makes the games so great, and makes me just another sleepy Zelda theorist.

See later ya later guys! Back to bed!🤣

37 notes · View notes

malarkgirlypop · 6 months

Text

MEDIC Part 16 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hey guys, listen it's gonna get happy soon, hehe, maybe. Oh god I just keep writing sad stuff. I swear I am so happy and funny in real life! I just like to dump all of my feelings and sadness onto Emily, cause then it isn't my problem but hers and she's not real so... my problems aren't real. OK! ahahah. Also I am so so so so sorry for this is the slowest slow burn of all time, if you are here for romance I am totally sorry. I just want them to kiss, but then it isn't the right time, like idk if I make them get together while she is just going through it. Plus I feel so mean for Don he always helps her and he's just fine. IDK ahhh a lot going on up in my brain. Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @xxluckystrike (let me know if anyone else wants to be on the tag list 🥰, totally understand if you don't, this is the most depressing story and if you're having a good day I'm sure it will ruin it.)

Emily stands from her crouched position, striding over to the Nazi soldier. She stands over his body, tilting her head to analyse the dead man. But she doesn’t see a man nor a human. She sees filth. Pig scum who was a waste of space and air. She kicks his leg hard, but he stares up at the sky. Emily bends down picking up the gun slung across his body, she yanks it free. She checks the ammo, seeing the gun is still full, she scavenges over the body taking his magazine. She stands tall walking to where the assault happens, she strolls past her own men who yell at her to take cover. They look at each other confused, wondering why the medic is holding a German gun and walking straight into fire. She spots a group of German soldiers who take cover behind a hay bale. Her finger squeezes the trigger spraying the men in fire. She watches as they fall like dominos. She moves to where they were, firing more shots into the bodies to ensure they are dead. A round fires near her all missing, she scoffs, turning her attention to where the shots came from. Emily picks up her gun, shooting the men down one by one. She marches over to where they were stationed. One man that she had missed scrambles back from her, she notes he looks young, like the boy who’s blood covered her face and chest. She pins the boy to the floor, getting in his face.

“This is for them!” She snarls as she pulls the pistol from her pocket.

She gets up from the now lifeless body picking up her discarded semi-automatic weapon, continuing on her warpath. She walks back out into the opening as if taunting the men to shoot. She stands with dead eyes, her hair loose from the vigorous movement, blowing across her face. Her men stampede either side of her, taking the advantage she just created for them. She tosses her now empty gun to the side but still grips her pistol tightly. A firm grip lands on her shoulder. She doesn’t hesitate, whipping around, she aims the gun right at the man's head. Familiar eyes locking onto hers.

I hold the pistol right between Malarkey’s eyes, the tang of blood on my tongue and the stench of copper on my clothes. I exhale shakily, eyes frantically darting around.

“Em, you’re ok!” Malarkey grips the barrel moving it down from his face.

I step back, dropping the gun to the ground. I take in my hands tacky with blood, I go to wipe them on my front but the green uniform is stained red. Tears spring to my eyes, my heart pounds in my ears. What happened? I look again at my hands, they shake as I recollect the scene that just unfolded. I killed those men. I killed a young boy. I caused the life to leave from his eyes. I shake my head, frantically trying to wipe the blood from my hands, it won’t leave my skin. I drop to my knees tearing at my clothes trying to find my canteen. I pull it from my belt pouring the water over my hands, I desperately rub them together to wash away the stains. I grab at my button’s needing to get the smell that permeates in my nose off my body. I shake violently, unable to unfasten the buttons. “Help me!” I beg Malarkey who watches me with a sympathetic look on his face. He kneels in front of me, undoing my shirt, he helps me to pull it off. I touch my fingers to my face, finding more blood. I pour water from my canteen onto my hand rubbing the liquid into my face. I sob as I wash. Snot mixing in with the blood and tears. I tear at my skin not feeling clean enough. My wrists are grasped.

“Em, please stop, you’re hurting yourself!” Malakey begs me. I gasp for air in between sobs.

“What did I do?” I choke out. Malarkey and I kneel in the open field as he holds my wrists. The sound of gunshots slowly dissipating. He shakes his head, unable to find the words to tell me, not knowing how to put what he saw.

“I killed those men?” I ask, not believing my blurry memories.

“Em you weren’t yourself.” Malarkey tries to explain. I wasn’t there, felt like I was pushed back into my mind and I lost all control. Like falling asleep.

“I murdered those people, Don. This is their blood. I… killed them.” I hyperventilate, shaking my head. Trying to rid my mind of the images that flash behind my eyelids. I gag, retching the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Don watches, sitting helplessly in front of me. “I can’t, I can’t.” I muffle my screams behind my hand. I curl over myself. Pressing my head to the ground. I grip at the grass underneath, hoping that something will help my world stop spinning. I dig my nails into the ground tearing at the earth. I sob uncontrollably, choking on my own breaths. I have never felt this pain in my life. Like my soul is being torn from me. Like everything is being ripped from my body. Unbearable. I wail. Unconsolable.

“EM!” Don pleads with me. He moves to my side, raising me from my hunched position on the ground. He presses me into him, my chest against his. His hands in my hair, pressing my face into his neck. I sob still. His hands rub circles on my back, soothing my hair down. Don rocks us.

“Em this is not your fault. Shhh you’re alright.” He coos in my ear. I hiccup, the cries easing from my throat. I feel the tears still sliding down my face, pooling on his shirt. I grip at him, Don stops my world spinning. I hold on for dear life, worried he could slip away if I loosen my grip.

“I’m so sorry.” I whisper, into the air. I send it out into the universe.

“I’m so sorry.” I see the men's faces, cold and still. Young men, lives ahead of them, I took it. Their chance to live. I took their opportunities. I took a mother’s son, a sibling, a friend. I can’t justify my actions, there was no rationale, no means. I took advantage of the hatred I held and turned it against them. They were following orders, just like our men, just like me. I was the one out of line, I did not follow my orders. I look up at Don, his eyes meet mine. No disappointment in his face, just sorrow. The other men come back, the assault is over. We need to keep moving to Noville. If we sit out in the open we make ourselves more vulnerable. I hear crunching footsteps approach us.

“Let’s get moving.” Lip says to Don. I move to get up but Don holds me close. I look up at him, I nod my head, showing him I’m fine. He lets me go, I move to stand. I shudder looking at my clothes. I lift my head trying to distract myself. I still feel the blood coating my skin. I just want to get somewhere I can change. We walk in silence, Don close to my side. We hang back from the rest of the men. I’m ashamed, I don’t want them to see me like this, covered in blood. That is a normal state for me but this feels different, this blood was not shed from a wound I was trying to fix. It was shed from maleficence, my malice, my hatred. Lip walks in front of us, casting his glance back every so often to make sure I’m still there. I can’t read his expression, but I know he is disappointed, all of the men will be.

We set up camp in one of the houses on the outskirts of town. By the time we reach it night has fallen. I wait outside by myself asking Don to go and get me a new uniform, I don’t want to be paraded through the house in my blood soaked clothes and skin.

He re-emerges out of the house holding clean clothes for me.

“There is a stream not too far away, would you want to go wash there?” Don asks, I nod. There were no showers or places for me to wash here. I would take a cold stream over anything else. I followed behind him, he still held my clothes for me. We used a small torch to light our way. We didn’t talk on our journey, but it was short, we arrived at the stream soon enough. Snow covered the ground but thankfully the stream hadn’t frozen over due to the running water through it. He placed my clothes on a rock.

“I will wait for you up on the bank.” He said and left. I stripped down to my underwear, untying my hair from its bun. I took off my shoes and socks last. My feet burning from the cold underneath my soles. I stepped tentatively into the stream, gasping at the coldness. I walked further in the water coming to my waist. It was freezing, my breathing quickened due to how cold it was. I took a deep breath and sank beneath the water. I didn’t stay under long, my urge to gasp from the cold forcing me to resurface again. My teeth chattered but I persisted. I scrubbed my skin from the dried blood. I washed my face, my hair, and my hands. Washing away all of the bloodshed I'd caused. I didn’t realise it but I was sobbing as I washed. I slipped under the water again, my body now more used to the cold. It was quiet under the surface, muffled and muted from the outside world. My heavy bones felt light floating in the water. But I couldn’t hold my breath forever, I needed to surface at some point and face the world again. That felt all too real. I broke the surface, gulping in air. My body was numb by this point from the cold. I needed to get changed before I got too cold. I stood moving back to the edge, walking out, I dried myself with the towel that Don had brought for me. He was always so thoughtful, and I had pushed him away. Guess I didn’t learn my lesson last time. Luckily I couldn’t push him away so easily, we were in the same company, I had to see him everyday. I got dressed quickly, making my way back up to where Don waited for me. A soft smile formed on his lips seeing me clean again. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked into his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into me. He stayed quiet but wrapped his arms around my back squeezing me.

“I’m so sorry, Don.” I whispered into his neck, “I was being selfish. I pushed you away. But I don’t want to be apart from you.” Tears ran down my cheeks as we held each other still. “I want to remember them with you. I don’t want to forget them.” His hand rubbed up and down my back.

“We will remember them, Em. Those guys will be with us forever.” He said softly into my hair. He knew exactly how to comfort me. I pulled back to smile at him, his thumb brushing away the tears on my cheeks.

“As long as you have me, we won’t forget. And you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He grinned at me, making me laugh tearily.

“I don’t want to get rid of you.” I shook my head. “I’ve decided to keep you, for as long as I can.” He grinned at me nodding his head.

We made our way back to the house. The building was warm due to all the bodies packed into it. I was ready to crash, I had been running on fumes for days. The quiet chatter died when we walked back into the house, I was very aware of all of the eyes watching me. I walked closer to Don trying to hide behind him, but it was no use. I looked down at my feet as we walked, finally making it to where Don had saved a spot for us on the floor. What were they thinking? They had all seen it happen, so surely they all knew about it. Did they hate me now? See me as a monster? I bit my lip nervously, thoughts swirling in my head. Don’s warm hand landed on top of mine, he gave me a reassuring smile. I nodded not needing to speak, we both knew what we were saying without words.

“Do you mind?” Malarkey said loudly turning to the group of men, they all looked away from us, their chatter resuming. I laid down, resting my head on my bag, he pulled the blanket over the both of us, resting beside me.

“Tomorrow will be easier.” He squeezed my hand before rolling over away from me. I fell asleep not long after. Tomorrow will be easier.

#yikes what a chapter #she maybe commit some wr crimes but we will let it slide #maybe she will be the new Speirs of Easy Company #What do we think everyone else is thinking #are they mad at her?#proud?#scared?#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #donald malarkey #hbo war #Emarkey #their ship name #thanks to Bucky ❤️

33 notes · View notes