#a sudden realisation over my second cup of tea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingsbychlo · 5 months

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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)

summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.

word count; 5988

notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all.

Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another.

The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner.

Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten.

It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence.

He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in.

You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch.

On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her.

Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met.

“Hello, Elain.”

“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled?

“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”

“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”

Apparently so. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”

“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”

“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”

“You want to get to know me?”

“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”

“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”

“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”

“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys.

She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.

The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks.

Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again.

Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees.

“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”

“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”

“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”

“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”

“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”

She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had.

“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”

It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”

Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”

“I wish you both the best of luck,”

She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”

It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it.

“I’m happy he has you.”

“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it.

“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”

The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”

“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”

You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”

“In what way?”

“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”

“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”

“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”

“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”

“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”

“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”

“Should you be telling me this?”

“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”

“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”

She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”

“Led you to Lucien?”

“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”

“That’s awful!”

“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”

“This was Lucien?”

“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”

“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.

“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”

“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”

“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”

“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”

“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”

You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—

Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner.

You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang.

Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth.

It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?

Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him.

He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body.

“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”

He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling.

“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it.

Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.

Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office.

Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts.

Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match.

Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.

One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat.

Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort.

Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work.

It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind.

He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels.

Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him.

You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him.

This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair.

“Azriel…”

He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form.

“Azriel.”

This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”

You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head.

Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after.

Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”

At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed.

“Az…”

“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”

Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”

“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”

He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”

Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”

“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”

Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”

He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away.

You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips.

You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair.

When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it.

“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”

“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”

Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork.

“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”

“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth.

“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food.

While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”

“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food.

His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter.

“Let me cook, you menace,”

“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”

“I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction.

“We need to eat, you need food.”

“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.

“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”

“And there will be more kisses?”

“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck.

“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”

His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”

“Really?”

“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”

Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening.

Today,

today changed everything for the better.

#SLS #sweet like sugar #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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confused-wanderer · 1 year

Text

How would Jason react, or even know about Bruce nearly killing the joker?

He doesn’t hear it from Damian, Dick nor Barbara. It’s only when a few years have passed and relations between Bruce and him slowly start cooling that he starts being able to return to the Manor more often without feeling pangs of guilt, longing, nostalgia and overall the Lazarus Pit screaming to be let out.

However, he isn’t dumb. Whenever he complains to Tim about how Tim’s been treated better and loved more than he was, he’s quick to notice how Tim’s jaw tenses, with fingers spastic as if they wanted to curl into fists. Nor does he miss what Tim whispers under his breath twenty minutes later.

If only you knew..

Bruce keeps trying to make amends, tries engaging with him face to face before a few bullets got the message across and he retreated. But Jason could still feel him waiting, hovering, for the signal to light up and let him know he was needed.

He could go to hell though.. Every single time he looked at Bruce he felt safe, followed by fierce anger burning through his veins. He hated that he felt at ease when Bruce entered. Hated that he almost fell back into their old banter. Hated that he missed him. Hated that he still trusted him.

Hated that he still loved him.

One night, after giving Bruce the cold shoulder the entire time and watching in satisfaction as Bruce’s shoulder slumped in defeat, he felt the sudden need to comfort him. He’s the batman, he chided himself. If he could get over your death, he can get over this.

Standing out on the balcony, he never spoke to the presence already there.

“Master Jason..”

“Hey Alfred, it’s pretty cold out you sure you’d be fine?”

“I’ve faced worse winters.”

Jason sighed. That old man always had an air of expectancy around him, just like when he was robin, like a mother waiting for their child to tell them what they did wrong.

“What do you want?”

“I want to know what the bloody hell you think you’re doing?”

That caught Jason’s attention. Hatred and stoic ness quickly melted and all he could do was stare at him in shock.

“Why are you tormenting him?”

“Are you fucking kidding me??-“ “Language master Jason.”

“Alfred. You were there.”

“There was nothing master Bruce could do to save you-”

“I DONT CARE ABOUT THAT ALFRED! He-“

Shoulders slumped, he looked down.

“He replaced me.” Jason whispered. “He didn’t even wait till my body was cold he just fucking went ahead and replaced me. Even after knowing I died, he still put another child in that suit, MY suit! And then, HE DIDNT EVEN AVENGE ME!! He just took Joker back to Arkham, which is basically just like a vacation for him, and LEFT. After all these-”

A shivering cold current of electricity ran through his body and he could feel the Lazarus Pit rising, making his body grow colder by the second.

“After all this time.. he never did anything.” Jason muttered. “So yeah, not only was knowing I was dead for four years a slap to the face.. but to come back home to find another kid in my room and business as usual? As if I never existed? That just made me realise I didn’t matter.”

CLINK

The tea cup in Alfred’s hands was shaking, and a wave of concern overtook Jason. He was about to reach a hand out to steady it when Alfred put the cup down, sighed and looked at the moon.

“Master Bruce never gave Robin to Tim. I did.”

“.. Come again?”

“I gave it to him myself. After you died.. he was a shell of himself. He started pushing himself more, brutalising criminals to the point of hospitalisation. After you died.. a big part of him did too. He refused to be around people, friends, to be happy, to eat. He was punishing himself for your death by refusing to live. And I never forgot you either my boy.. Every night for months I stood by the windows, staying awake and looking outside..hoping to catch a glimpse of you. For the first time in my life I prayed for you to be beaten and bruised, but alive. Locked myself in your room, in your memories, as if standing over your bed was guarding you even in death..Master Bruce missed you so much he played tapes of your missions, just to hear your laugh.”

The older man shook his head and refused to look at him.

“He rejected Tim, but I couldn’t watch him destroy himself. I’d already lost one son..” Alfred paused, looking at Jason with such fondness and pain. “ I wasn’t going to lose another.”

A long pause lingered in the air, and Jason could hear his heart racing as it processed what he’d heard.

“As for Joker,” Jason looked up, and saw the most terrifying scowl he’d ever seen before, with eyes filled with hatred and a craving for retribution.

“Jason Bruce almost killed him too. Like you said, I was there. I was always there. He had chas- hunted Joker down, torturing him slowly and violently until the air was thick with his screams. How every bone was shattered, with so much blood you couldn’t even tell the tiles underneath were white.”

Alfred closed his eyes, and Jason couldn’t help feel that though he was remembering the scene, he was also reveling in it. “His body shattered, smile gone replaced with pain and the howls of misery that he emitted that night.. alas-”

“He didn’t kill him.”

Alfred’s eyes bore into his, and reflected the darkness of the shimmering sky.

“You’re not hearing me. He damn well nearly did. There are things worse than death in this world and Bruce made sure to make Joker feel every single.one. But Superman.. heard him. He heard the roars of fury and grief, and stopped him. All while Bruce stood over the broken body of what once was human. All while muttering your name over and over again, like it was a prayer that kept him grounded. With every hit he took, with every ounce of pain he delivered, he did it with your name on his lips.”

They both just stood there.. shadows in fading moonlight as the noises of life started waking the world with their song.

“Unfortunately, his voice was recorded on one of those surveillance cameras. Tim wiped it, but we kept one copy.. and though the footage is corrupted, the sound is crystal clear.”

Alfred hesitated, before gently cupping Jason’s hands and placing a cold weight on them.

“I hope you never hear it..my boy. I’d rather you burnt it. But if you want to hear the raw truth.. I wanted you to have proof.”

Sunlight burst through the horizon, and with it came the dawn of a new time.

Jason heard the tape as soon as he left.

And burnt it right after.

Alfred was right.

All he had heard were the guttural cries of a broken man..

A father, grieving for his son.

Jason finding out Dick killed joker post:

#dick grayson #batfam #batfamily #batman #jason todd angst #jason todd robin #batman angst #tim drake #alfred pennyworth #red hood angst #badass Alfred pennyworth

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verinarin · 4 months

Note

what about veritas making excuses just to hold your hand ? or just to touch you in some sort of way bcs he cant ask directly

this man is a menace because he knows very well that you absolutely believes in whatever he says and he abuses that fact to the max _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): | Fluff featuring worried Veri !!

support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

You have been summoned by Veritas to help him with his newest research, ever since you accidentally broke a lot of his expensive vials you have been working for him to repay the damage, let’s be honest here you still don’t understand why the hell are those small pieces of glasses cost more than one month of your rent !

What you didn’t know on the other hand that he doesn’t care about those vials, yes they were expensive and he doesn’t mind the fact it’s broken, he was planning to buy a new one anyway, but you didn’t need to know this fact of course

You knock exactly three times on the glass door of his lab, of a sudden the door dissipates into thin air, you still don’t know what kind of magic he use for that damn door-

“Alright I’m here Veritas, what do you need me to do ?,” you huff as you see him in the corner, his brows furrowed as he concentrates on the vial that’s in his hand

“Come here and hold this for me,” he says curtly, you quickly oblige and hold his vial for him, what you don’t realise is how cold the room is, your hand starts to tremble because of the temperature “Stay still fool !,” he grunts as he holds your hand tightly with his own

He can’t help but feel something weird stirring up inside him, an annoying feeling that ails his heart, the softness of your skin against his own and the warmth it emulates, he quickly brushes the thought

His hand must be cold that’s why he enjoys the warmth of your hand instead, he justifies. You kept your mouth shut and your hand stable as he used his other hand to drop two drops of a foreign liquid he had to concoct before, however, you suddenly sneezed and the one drop of the liquid made contact with your skin

Suddenly you felt tingles around your body, Veritas quickly grabbed the vial and placed it back in safety “You’re an absolute idiot!” he yelled as he dragged your body toward his own, he swiftly examined the skin that had contracted with the liquid, you never see his this worried before

“I’m sorry t-the room w-was t-too cold,” you mutter as you keep your gaze towards the floor, you can’t help but feel like you’ve currently in an industrial freezer ever since that liquid touched your skin

“What do you feel right now ?!,” he replies as he brushes back the hair on your forehead to check your temperature, you’re ice cold this is a good sign for him, at least now he knows what you need is just a simple cup of herbal tea he could brew, all of the symptoms you showed so far doesn’t seem to be extreme, it was a drop of a coolant solution after all

“So coold, really cold like someone just threw a bucket of cold water,” your body trembles, within a second he wraps his arm around your waist, while resting your head on his chest, “To share my body heat with yours is the most effective way to combat this,” he lies, yet you don’t need to know that do you ?

It’s all a blur from then, because somehow now you’re at his apartment his bed to be exact. Covered by layers of blanket your head rested on his chest as he holds you close, he feels like a heater underneath all of the layers he puts over you both, he feels rather awful to help you in this way but you seem to be feeling better after he brewed you that herbal tea

According to his deduction, you should feel a lot better after drinking it but you ask him to share his warmth again, he wouldn’t let the chance of being so close to you to wasted of course, “Feeling any better ?,”

“Yeah it’s warm and toasty here, I’m sorry to burden you and I hope you don’t mind the close proximity,” you huff as you look up towards him

He just sighs before smiling, “I’m actually quite fond of it now,”

He has always been fond of it ever since your hand accidentally brushed his own

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr. ratio #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio fluff

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dreaminginpastels · 1 year

Note

Hi Daniella, first of all your blog is one of my favourites and your writing is really lovely 😊

Second, I have an idea for a fanfic, would you like to write a female! x reader for the maze runner with Newt? . In which the reader is a Med Jack and one night during the bonfire Newt enters in the fight circle and gets hurt. And as the reader is the only one who is sober enought to take care of him, she takes him to the Med Jack hunt. But Newt drunk to much and confess his feelings for the reader, without realizing.

Sorry if is too long or specific, I would understand if you don't have time to do it

Anyway your blog is fantastic so keep going ❤❤❤

second chances

pairing: newt (maze runner) x fem!med-jack!reader

summary: newt injures himself in the fight circle, leading to drunken confessions about his favourite med-jack

warnings: brief mentions of insecurity and allusions to previous attempts at self-harm

reader pronouns: she/her (by request)

word count: 980 words

*✧ maze runner masterlist | main masterlist | ask | taglist ✧*

You are well and truly surrounded by idiots. You figured that your explicit medical instructions would have been taken seriously given your status as one of the only med-jacks in the Glade, and the fact that it didn’t take a genius to realise that any physical activity on a broken leg was a dumb idea. Yet here you were, watching one of the most sensible Gladers drunkenly step himself into the fight circle. It seemed that Gally’s special drink had disarmed Newt’s senses, he even winked at you as he wobbled towards his opponent. You rolled your eyes.

You had to admit you were conflicted. On one hand, it was clumsy and stupid for Newt to be risking the leg that you had spent months monitoring as he healed from his…injury. But on the other hand, you knew what misery those months had been for him, and knew that he needed these nights of bliss, bonding with the other Gladers and feeling like the teenage boy he was. Recklessness was a typical theme in the Glade after all.

The two of you had bonded significantly over those months, sharing much more than time as you both adjusted to life in the Glade. A second life for Newt. This developing closeness hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other Gladers. Minho in particular found joy in teasing the both of you daily, constantly whispering to Newt and giggling. You found it adorably annoying, which summed Minho up perfectly.

As if you had summoned him with your thoughts, Minho’s drunken rambling reached your ears across the Fight Circle crowd. “Hey, y/n, don’t miss your loooover boy in the ring! He can’t impress you if you’re not even watchingggg.”

Your scoff drowned out in the sea of oohs and aahs and kissy noises. These boys were unbelievably annoying at times, but you couldn’t help but laugh. They meant well, and if some high school love drama was their cup of tea, then so be it. You liked making people happy. Your state of reverie is so strong that it takes you a moment to realise that the teasing noises have morphed into gasps and groans. You can’t see anything between the distance you’re seated from the Circle and the group of boys now crowded around it. Minho’s voice, moments ago light and breezy from the other side of the Fight Circle, is suddenly sobered and panicked as he breaks through the crowd and runs to you in lightning speed. “y/n, help! It’s Newt!”

Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself kneeling over Newt’s body. As his eyes looked up and met yours with a sheepish grin, you let out a frustrated breath. “Y/n, it’s you! So great to see you, you know I-“

His quip died is his mouth, replaced by a sudden wince that brought you back down to Earth and to the injury you hadn’t yet assessed. “What have you managed to do to yourself this time, dear one?”

He sighed. “Worth a shot. I think I sprained my wrist when I fell.”

You nodded, calming down as you realised that Minho’s drunkenness added to his exaggerated panic. Helping Newt up carefully, you begun to escort him to the med-jack hut, eager to get him away from the teasing jeers and whoops that faded into the distance as the two of you followed the well-trodden path.

…

As you tenderly bent his wrist backwards and forwards to check his level of pain, you shook your head fondly at each goofy drunk noise he made in response. What a silly loveable idiot.

You paused. He looked up at you with those sweet innocent eyes. “What were you thinking, Newt? Why would you do something so reckless so soon after your…while you’re still recovering?”

His eyebrows furrowed like an eight-year-old being told off. “Because Minho told me that if I want y/n to know how much I care about her then I need to start showing her, and I thought she’d think I was…I don’t know, cool, if I won the fight. She probably thinks I’m pathetic because I’m always limping about and…she helped me so much when I hurt myself and I don’t want her to think I’m weak. I really love her and I want her to know how much she means to me.”

You were surprised he didn’t flinch as your heart shattered. How could this beautiful person ever for a moment think he was weak? Let alone in your eyes. You were about to respond when his eyes widened, “Promise you won’t tell y/n!”

Chuckling at how adorable he was, confessing his feelings about you to you without realising, you grabbed his uninjured hand and caressed it softly. “I promise I won’t tell her, Newt. But I want to tell you a secret in return.”

He leaned forward eagerly, “Yeah?”

You smiled, leaning closely against his ear and whispering, “y/n really likes you too. You should definitely tell her how you feel. I guarantee she feels the same.”

A big toothy grin appeared on his face, and his eyes twinkled. “R-really?”

When you nodded, he muttered resolutely that he would ask y/n out tomorrow.

…

The next morning, Newt bashfully approached you as you ate your breakfast, pulling up a chair with his uninjured arm. “So…I noticed the makeshift cast on my wrist and I can’t help but ask…. how bad was I last night?”

“You confessed to me that you have feelings for me, and made me promise not to tell myself.” You chuckled, amused by his progressive eye-widening as you answered his question. “You know, I had no idea that Gally’s special drink could make you forget that I’ve been your girlfriend for three months but hey, here we are.”

Head in his hands, Newt slowly looked up at you. “I’m gonna be making this one up to you for months, aren’t I, darling?”

Smiling fondly at your precious boyfriend, you tenderly put a hand on his cheek. “Oh, absolutely”. He softened, matched your loving smile as you pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

a/n: hello beautiful nela (@nelabelievesindragons), thank you so much for your kind words. you always know just want to say to encourage me! I hope you’ll forgive the delay in writing this for you. this was an absolute pleasure to write - I loved the prompt (you always send lovely ideas) and the twist popping into my head was so satisfying.

it's so lovely knowing this was your first ask before we were friends, I hope that I did it justice. I remember being so excited to get a newt request (I adore him). hopefully this eases the pain of reading the death cure! 🤍

#newt maze runner #newt maze runner x reader #maze runner #maze runner x reader #newt x reader #thomas brodie-sangster x reader #thomas brodie sangster #newt maze runner x fem!reader #newt maze runner x fem!med-jack!reader #newt maze runner x med-jack!reader #newt maze runner fluff #newt maze runner x you #maze runner fluff #maze runner x you #thomas brodie sangster x you #requests open #daniella writes 💫#⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ nela ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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abiiors · 2 months

Text

all of those dreams where you're my wife // george daniel x reader

valentine's week - day 7: dearly beloved

a/n: bbf!george, i did not forget about him <33 cw: none, this is very sappy fluff. a bit suggestive maybe but like suuuuuper mildly wc: 1.6k

weddings have never been her thing.

the large crowds really aren’t her cup of tea, the loud music and bright lights are overwhelming more often than not. on top of that, there’s the newfound fame—not for her but the fact that not one but two people in her life seemed to have blown up overnight is not the easiest to deal with.

still, this is not a wedding she can miss. it’s lisa, her mum’s best friend who’s getting married, after all, the woman’s like a second mother to her and matty.

and she has to admit it to herself, having george as her date certainly makes the wedding much more exciting than any she’s been to in the past.

really nervous about being a bridesmaid. what if i fall in front of everyone — she’d texted george the night before, her stomach in anxious knots only to get a swift reply only seconds later.

you’ll be amazing, sweetheart <3 and i’ll be right there xx

and that’s the text she thinks about as she stands outside the entrance to the church, waiting for her musical cue. her dress is gorgeous, better than anything she’s worn in her entire life. it’s baby pink and flowy and fits her in all the right places. a bow secures half her hair up while the rest of it flow in loose curls. and everything feels utterly perfect.

yet when the music starts, her stomach erupts in nervous butterflies. she takes a deep breath, clutching the bouquet of flowers tightly in her hands and steps inside the church.

the aisle feels longer than ever, and every step she takes is a conscious effort to maintain composure under everyone’s gazes. it’s not a lot of people, not really, but all the sets of eyes on her and the only other bridesmaid has her sweating under the dress. cameras go off (including flashes, which she finds mildly annoying) and she tries not to trip in the heels, half-blinded by the light. she tries to find her mark on the altar until her eyes meet george and her heart stops in her chest.

he looks beautiful and it’s then that she realises that she’s never seen him in a suit before. the dark fabric looks absolutely perfect against his skin, the cut of it flattering every muscle in his body. and his long-ish hair looks extra wavy today, soft and shiny too.

she has the sudden urge to abandon her duties in favour of running her fingers through them.

george smiles at her and she flushes like it’s her first time seeing him.

“hi beautiful,” he whispers when she passes by him and a giggle slips out of her, making several eyes snap to her.

“hi,” she mouths back when she finally, finally gets to her place on the alter. (without tripping or stumbling)

he’s right at the front of the pew, smiling bashfully at her while she lets her eyes roam over him again—on his handsome face and absolutely perfect suit, on his baby pink tie that matches her dress so perfectly (athough she has no idea when he planned or bought that) and lastly, she meets his eyes.

he looks at her with all the softness in the world; like she’s the only one that matters in this room, like she’s the one he came here for. the music swells around them again and turns softer. this time, she has no choice but to peel her eyes away from george and focus on the bride.

her throat feels tight at the sight of her mum escorting lisa down the aisle. they whisper something to each other in hushed tones and giggle, almost like they’re still teenagers. the crowd awws and she has no choice but to wipe a fallen tear off her cheeks.

the ceremony is absolutely lovely, and she cries and laughs multiple times, sometimes even simultaneously. but one thing remains constant—she feel’s george’s eyes on her the whole time, moving away only when the newlyweds are declared husband and wife and when they share a kiss.

she laughs and walks behind them with the rest of the wedding party as they run out the church, hand-in-hand, whooping with joy. it’s such a beautiful moment that for a second, she forgets to look for george.

until a hand wraps around her wrist lightly and pulls her into a corner. she yelps, stumbling into a firm chest and the next thing she feels is a pair of familiar lips on hers as george kisses the absolute daylights out of her.

“there you are,” he smiles once they manage to pull back slightly. "beautiful as always."

“there i am,” she smiles, cheeks warm and eyes unable to meet his. he really does look absolutely irresistible like this. it makes all her thoughts go astray and her mouth go dry. somewhere outside, people are already blasting music but it sounds soft and dreamy floating inside the empty church like this—well, empty except for them, in each other's arms.

“you looked incredible up there, sweet girl, couldn’t stop staring at you.”

“i knowww,” she teases, giggling when he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “could feel your eyes on me the whole time. you are very distracting.”

“you are very distracting,” his eyes sparkle, “i couldn’t tell you a single thing about the wedding y’know? but i think i can wax poetics about the sunlight catching in your hair.”

she giggles at his sappiness, slapping him on the arm lightly (and taking the chance to feel the muscles underneath). george, on the other hand, buries his face in the crook of her neck and hums lightly to the tune of the song playing outside.

“dance with me,” he says, his voice muffled and she nods, already swaying to the faint tune floating in. he’s right though, now that she thinks about it, she absolutely could wax poetics about the sunlight falling on him. especially through the tinted glass windows of the church. it’s casts a halo around him, softening everything about him.

“you’re staring,” he smiles against her lips, capturing her mouth in a quick kiss before she can get a word out. not that it bothers her much though, she just sighs happily and lets him deepen it, lets him sway her gently. instead, her mind flashes her with an image—them dancing exactly like this, perhaps a little older, her in white and george in whatever the fuck he wants to wear because he’s always stunning. she can picture it so clearly—a wedding of their own. a marriage too.

when the thought occurs to her, it takes shape in her head, flashing her with more images—a honeymoon in the mediterranean, george with warm sunlight on him and sand stuck to his chest. warm nights spent tangled up in sheets with george railing her into the mattress. bright mornings spent kissing and cuddling and giggling under sheets.

“what are you thinking about?” his voice shatters the vision and she stutters a bit, trying not to freak him out with all her future plans.

“hmm? nothing just—”

“you’ve got that look on your face. like you’re thinking of me naked—”

“george!” she slaps a hand over his mouth, “we’re in a church!”

chuckles under her hand, and she can feel the vibrations against her palm. “no tell me what you were thinking about.”

“about… us,” she swallows, hoping he won’t prod further. but of course she’s proven wrong not even a second later when he twirls her mid-dance and asks, “what about us?”

about you and me getting married, she wants to say, having a life together, the forever kind. but thoughts churn in her head rapidly, they’ve only been together for a year and a half, they’re still so young, and george is just getting started with the band.

“you’re overthinking,” he murmurs. “now i’m really curious”

“okay fine! i got carried away and thought about us– about us–”

“getting married?” he finishes for her and she hums, trying not to blush like a fucking schoolgirl. it’s unfair that he should still have that effect on her after all this time, that he should tower over her like this and fluster her so much.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything, he only sways her letting the soft melody carry them. his hand grazing her back is so gentle, almost caressing her, making her feel electric with every brush of his fingers and she wishes she could bottle this moment and keep it forever.

“what do you think i was thinking about the whole time?” it makes her whip her head at him, and her breath catches in her throat.

“don’t joke about this.”

“who says i’m joking, sweetheart?”

she doesn’t let him continue before she’s kissing him again, slow and soft and deep enough to make her toes curl in her heels. his hands roam all over her body, over the open skin of her back, caressing her spine with such softness that goosebumps spread all over her. she gasps in his mouth and he slides his tongue inside, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth until she’s dizzy and weak in the knees.

“george,” she groans and it’s like she’s doesn’t have to say anything more.

“let’s get out of here,” he murmurs and takes her hand in his, dragging her behind him as they run away giggling, in search of someplace secluded. the sunshine hits her again, so warm and beautiful and she closes her eyes, locking this memory in forever.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser

add yourself to the taglist

#valentine75 #valentine's week #the 1975 #george daniel #bbf!george #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george daniel fluff

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yangsrose · 1 year

Text

To all the Co-Workers I've Loved Before: Introduction

Summary: Over the time of working at Café 7 Dream, you unfortunately ended up crushing on all seven of your coworkers, one consequently after another. So the summer before you left for college, you decided to set things straight and mail them all letters about your past, and for one member, present feelings towards them.

Pairing: Surprise Member x Reader

Genre: Barista! AU, Coming of Age

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: none

Authors Notes: i finally got around to finishing this off 😅 this series has honestly been in the making for the past two years, and i'm finally getting the chance to write and post this so hopefully you guys like it!!

taglist: @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @vickylamore @jenosbliss @weirdkpopgirl @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @jenyoonoh @glamourizz @severefireangelprune @loveforred @toodleeee @daintyshu @snflwrhaerecs4u @markmeinyourheart @softieehyuck @n1ght-maring

if you would like to be added to the taglist for this series, please send me an ask or reply to this post!

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be packing?" you heard as you entered the small, cosy café. You were immediately tackled into a hug, none other than Haechan, one of the bakers, himself. You felt the breath get squeezed out of you as you tapped his back, signalling for him to let you go. There was no avail however, as the act made him hold onto you even tighter.

"I'm going to miss you, shortcake." You heard Haechan mumble into your hair, the sudden soft words bringing water into your eyes as you squeezed him back, unwilling to let go.

"Okay, okay, it's my turn for a hug. Let go Hyuck, your time is up." Jaemin said while trying to pry the other male off of you. You softly laughed as Haechan pouted in the corner, whining in protest at how his hug got cut short. Jaemin’s hug enveloped you as well, but rather than it being a bone crushing one like Haechan, his was warm and inviting, much like drinking a cup of warm tea on a cold day. You felt a second pair of arms wrap around you, and turned to see the other barista, Jeno, nuzzle his face into your neck.

“You really had to go pick the university farthest away from us, didn’t you?” he asked, playfully rolling his eyes while doing so.

“Yeah I thought we were all going to SMU!” Haechan said, his voice holding mock betrayal.

“Maybe you’re the reason why she’s moving away Hyuck,” you heard come from behind you, turning to come face to face with the head of the design team at Cafe 7 Dream, Renjun. Renjun gave you a soft smile and hugged you, muttering an “Imagine wanting to be stuck with him voluntarily. Could not be me.” while rolling his eyes.

“Had you not been hugging y/n, I would have punched you.” Haechan said, shooting a murderous look at Renjun.

“Hey Hyuck I found the- y/n!” you heard before getting tackled into yet another hug. Mark, the oldest of the group, was the 2nd baker of the cafe and was probably the hardest working member of the group, never complaining about the amount of work and instead doing everything without complaining. Mark squeezed you tightly before putting you down and ruffling your hair, causing you to bat at his hands and complain at the way that your hair was messed up. Mark laughed in return and fondly smiled at you, realising how much he was going to miss you.

“Guys where did you all go- oh hey y/n what are you doing here?” the ever so familiar voice of your former boss, Chenle, filling the room.

“I’m here to say goodbye.” you said, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to arise from that one sentence.

“Wait already? I thought you left next week?”

“No, the move in dates got moved forward a week so I have to get there early to get settled in.”

“We never threw you a goodbye party!” you heard from Haechan as he dramatically gasped, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics.

“I don’t want one! I’ll be back for break anyways, so you won’t get to miss me too much.”

“Still having to wait five months after seeing you almost everyday day is a big difference for all of us.” Mark said, causing some of the members to nod in return

“I know, but we can still call each other! All seven of you are still going to be together- wait where’s Jisung?” Just as if on cue, the youngest member walked in, ruffling his hair as he entered. He was oblivious to your presence as he walked in with his head down, only looking up when he noticed your familiar shoes. He stared at you in shock, and then ran up to tackle you into a bone crushing hug, burying his face into your hair. You, on the other hand, were surprised at the shy boy’s actions for a bit before regaining composure and hugging him back.

“I thought you left already!” Jisung said, pulling back and holding you at arm's length.

“Wow you want me gone already?” you asked, teasing Jisung who was now trying to defend himself. You fondly smiled at his defensive state, only to have the sweet moment be broken by Haehcan.

“Listen, standing around here and hugging y/n isn’t going to do anything but waste time! We need to get productive.”

“I literally had to pry you off of her.”

“I don’t count Jaemin.”

“What do you want to do y/n?” Jeno asked.

“Can we all just hang out here? I want to spend my last full day just spending time with all of you.” you said, smiling at all of them. Chenle was quick to turn the sign to show “closed”, on the store front, while everyone else began to gather their things and head out the door. As the eight of you exited the cafe, Haechan practically skipped to the front of the group, and began laying out his plans for the rest of the day.

“I say we go to the arcade, spend about three hours there, then get lunch, then go watch a movie, go to a place that y/n want to go to, then dinner, and then-”

“Y/n’s going to miss her flight with all the plans that you have.” Mark said, receiving a smack at the back of his head from Haechan, who didn’t let the comment stop him from sharing his plans. As you saw the seven of them playfully arguing with each other, you felt your heart break a little as you remembered how it would be another five months before you could come back home and hang out with them. Sure, you could facetime and keep in touch virtually, but it wouldn’t be the same as spending time with all of them in person, going around town and finding new places to deem as your residential “hang out” place. Your mind began to wander to the letters that were sitting on your dresser this morning, probably already mailed out to each respective house. You knew you shouldn’t have waited for so long to mail them out, but just the thought of having to be here while knowing that the boys had read your letters to them was enough to make you queasy. You shook your head slightly as if to make those thoughts disappear, silently thanking yourself for booking an early flight despite knowing that you would be tired and grumpy for a good portion of tomorrow due to the lack of sleep. Knowing that you wouldn’t be here to witness the chaos that would ensue after those letters made you feel slightly better about the irrevocable act that you had committed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you heard Jisung say, not realising that he was walking beside you this entire time. You shook your head and gave him a small smile, giving him an excuse that you were going to miss them all while you left. If only he knew that your apprehensiveness for the day ending wasn’t just because you’d be leaving in a few hours.

Two movies, one which you guys snuck into, three hours at the arcade, and a ton of junk food later, you and the rest of the boys began to wind down for the night, walking each other to your respective homes. Everyone seemed to dread the walk back, knowing that in a few hours, you would be in a completely different area from the rest of your friends. Since your house was the closest, everyone stopped there first, not ready to say their final goodbyes to you.

“You know we could just have an impromptu sleepover and drop you off at the airport tomorrow morning.” Mark said, the rest of the boys chiming in with their agreement.

“It’s fine, I need to do some last minute packing anyways. Besides, I don’t think any of you would be happy with waking up at 3 am tomorrow to drop me off at the airport anyways.” All the boys stood in their spots, not wanting to be the first to leave. You gave them all a small smile and gave them a goodbye hug before turning around and going inside your house. Before you entered however, you remembered an important piece of information that you almost forgot to inform the boys about.

“By the way, you guys should check your mailboxes after going home. I just wanted to get something off my chest before I left.”

“What is it, a love letter?” Haechan retorted, scoffing in the process,

“Why would she give you, out of all the people, a love letter.” Chenle asked, rolling his eyes.

“Listen, it's possible.”

“It’s just something I wanted to say to all of you. Don’t worry, none of it is bad - well - most of yours are good.” You said, playfulling casting a glance at Haechan, who was beginning to complain at you singling him out.

You waved at them and closed the door behind you, letting out a deep sigh that you had been holding in since the morning. Walking into your room, you knew that this was probably the last time that you would be able to hang out with your friends without them knowing about the secrets that you had been hiding for the past years of you knowing them. You set your alarm for tomorrow morning and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to forget about the thoughts swirling around in your brain. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and you were going to need all the rest that you could get.

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telleroftime · 1 year

Text

Yes, Still You ||| RK900 x Reader

You let out a curse after accidentally biting your tongue. It's heard by your boyfriend, Nines, who gets you back for making him concerned.

———————————————

Pairing: RK900 x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Word Count: 710

Oneshot Masterlist

A/N: I think the majority of readers call RK900 'Nines' so that's what I went with. Sorry if that name isn't your cup of tea.

———————————————

You cursed a hiss as you felt a sharp twinge of pain bloom in the edge of your tongue, hands instinctively reaching to cover your mouth.

You had bitten your tongue whilst absentmindedly watching one of your favourite shows, legs crossed underneath you as you sat in the centre of the bed. It wasn’t anything bad, and the pain settled quickly into nothing more than a shrill echo as you kept your tongue suspended within your mouth, but apparently your initial curse was loud enough for your boyfriend to hear. Within seconds, he had left his small home office in rushed steps. Thump thump thump until he neared the room.

Standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom, Nines looked at you, silver eyes scanning over your body as you looked back at him.

“You cursed,” he said stoically, staring you down as his LED gave off an orange spin before it settled back to a radiant blue.

Removing your hands from the front of your face, you were going to answer. However, as you moved your tongue from its spot in the void of your mouth, you felt the sting returning in a hot wave of uncomfortable pain. You couldn’t talk with it like that so you allowed your tongue to hang loosely in a childish manner and, only then, you answered the obvious.

“I 'ith my 'ongue," you said in your best pronunciation of the words before you let the tongue hover back inside your mouth. You felt it hurt and heard Nines click his tongue.

Still standing in the doorway, he blinked twice before he let an unnecessary sigh leave his lips. He took a set of long, slow strides towards the bed, eyes tilted to look at you as you looked up at him curiously. Climbing carefully on top of it, he reached out a hand to hover centimetres away from your cheek.

“Let me see,” he ordered simply, leaving you confused for a moment and sitting as still as a rock. That is until his hand moved its thumb to the other side of your face and squeezed gently, forcing you to pout and angle your face to more directly look at him. He made his point.

“Okay okay,” You grumbled and, with the sting of your tongue, you opened your mouth awkwardly again and poked your tongue out. His hand readjusted itself back to cup your cheek, his touch barely there.

As Nines sat and stared, you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you felt heat rise to your face. His eyes were trained on you like a hound would its prey, and you felt stupid by sitting there with an undertone of infancy that your expression manifested.

Good for him, he didn’t need you to look at him. You felt the bed sag below you as the android leaned in and kissed your lips, his own encompassing your hurting muscle just enough for you feel the cold texture of his tongue lightly glide against where you bit yourself. The icy touch numbed the hot pain enough for you not to mind the added pressure to the wound. Still, his sudden action left you stunned enough not to retaliate.

Instead, your eyes zapped to his and watched as he pulled away and slowly stood up to the side of the bed. He carefully patted the void space he previously occupied to flatten the fabric of the blankets.

There was a beat of silence as you watched him lick his lips and rub them with his thumb, LED spinning an orange for a couple of seconds before his eyes looked back at you.

“Yes, still you,” he said as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Putting the two and two together, your cheeks warmed further when you realised the blood from your tongue reacted with his built-in forensic kit. You felt your heart beat hard in your chest and you watched the android take confident steps back out of the room, as if you were completely forgotten.

“Wait, what? Nines!”

There wasn’t a response until he was out of your sight and you heard the creek of the office door overlap with the rustling from atop the bed.

“That’s what happens when you make me worry.”

———————————————

Oneshot Masterlist

#rk900 #rk900 x reader #dbh rk900 #dbh x reader #nines x reader #rk900 x y/n #dbh nines #dbh #detroit become human #dbh oneshot #dbh fanfic #rk900 oneshot #I still don't know how to tag #or when to post to max engagement #oh well

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derireo-galge · 1 year

Text

Soften Me Up | 3k | yoonmin✍🏼

When Jimin moves to Seoul to start university his parents insist he lives with their friends' son rather than in the dorms to focus on his education. Little did he know, the son is his ex friend & first crush, Min Yoongi, who hates him.

[ friends to enemies to lovers, soft yoonmin ]

***

Jimin stood in front of the dark wooden door, hesitating.

He was tired from the journey to Seoul, from a day spent on a train and dragging his heavy suitcase in the subway.

The lunch his mother lovingly packed for him was gone long ago and he heard his stomach rumble.

He just wanted to sit down and stretch his legs, preferably holding a cup of sweet tea in his hand.

Despite the stress of moving and slight worry of the unknown, he was excited to start a new chapter in his life.

He looked at the previously tightly squeezed piece of paper with the address written on it.

He had a letter from his parents in his hands as well, and even though it was a bit old fashioned of them, it was good they cared so much.

His mother even wrote additional instructions like it was his first trip to a grocery store and as if Jimin wasn't a grown, perfectly capable young man who knows how to figure things out.

He breathed in and out and knocked.

And knocked.

And knocked again.

It was silent for a while before the door opened with force, making him jump on the spot.

There was a young man standing in the doorway, about his height and with a very annoyed expression on his face.

He was probably woken up with the knocking; his T-shirt was creased and he had marks on his cheek from a pillow.

- Who the fuck are you? - he asked in a gruff voice.

It was like a bucket of cold water, the realisation who stood in front of Jimin.

Min Yoongi.

Min fucking Yoongi.

His mind was reeling.

Of course. His parents' friends' son.

Min Yoongi who he hated with a vengeance. The person who still to this day haunts him in his dreams.

He overcame the sudden numbness and quickly bowed.

- Hello, I'm Park Jimin, my parents said I'll be staying with you. Nice to meet you!

Jimin straightened up and looked at his opponent.

Did he recognize him? Was he expecting anyone even?

He felt shivers going down his spine.

He already knew it's going to be a disaster.

Yoongi snorted loudly.

- No you're not.

He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. Jimin was dumbfounded.

- I'm sorry. It must be a misunderstanding. My parents arranged my stay with you. I have a letter-

- Not interested. You can go back to your parents. Or mine, I don't really care. Move aside.

Jimin moved and the door was shut in his face the next second.

The blood rushing in his ears was deafening.

Was he not warned about him? Did his parents make a mistake?

Maybe he was supposed to stay with someone else?

And what was he supposed to do now? Go back?

Jimin hesitantly checked his wallet.

There wasn't enough even for a couple of subway rides, never mind a bus ticket to Busan or a place in a hostel.

If he had enough he could probably wait a week until the allowance his parents promised him comes through to his card.

But there was nothing.

Jimin felt despair taking over him.

He wanted to cry. Should he try talking to Min again?

But there was no answer to his repeated knocks anymore.

He sighed in defeat and started going down the steps and out of the building.

There was no point standing there. He clearly wasn't welcome.

He went outside and looked around.

It was a quiet neighbourhood.

Maybe he can just walk around a bit to calm himself down.

- No point crying, - he said to himself but tears started streaming down his cheeks regardless.

Before anything, he needs to have a breether.

And then contact a friend he has here.

Taehyung.

His best friend moved to the capital a year ago due to his parents' new jobs.

They spent their last school year separately.

It was heartbreaking.

But they kept close contact: messaging each other every day, sending clips and pictures and talking about anything that came to mind.

Still being there for each other no matter how many kilometers were between them.

It certainly wasn't the same as before - with his soulmate being a big social butterfly his attention on Jimin wasn't so thorough.

But as a great friend that he was he understood and accepted the new reality.

He would want his friend to live his life to the fullest in this big beautiful city, for the both of them.

Taehyung should have already moved to the dorm - the date was yesterday. He was probably sleeping all morning.

***

Jimin adjusted his grip on the handle of his suitcase and started rolling it behind him.

The dorms weren't very far and he didn't rush, taking calming breaths as he walked.

Once the door opened he was engulfed in a strong embrace, a sweet and comforting scent of his soulmate doing wonders for his nerves.

***

Part 2

#ai-ee au #ai-ee au sfw yoonmin #yoonmin #bts au fic #bts fanfction #jimin #yoongi #yoonmin au

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shark-indisguise · 2 years

Text

The Shopkeep and The Witcher (Geralt x OC (Rusalka Alcestor))

Word count: 4k

Warnings: pining idiots, mild tension, girl help there's a witcher in my house, language

Geralt's first visit was sudden and as Rusalka described it, rude.

It was a cool night, much past sunset and the night sky was foggy with fluffy grey clouds. Rusalka was seated below a window on a bench, facing north. She sipped on her warm cup of tea as Chip purred on her lap. Rusalka hadn't any customers today, nor had she the day prior, but she wasn't bothered. Sometimes it went weeks without a patron. She was independent and fairly introverted.

Just as she sipped on her tea, Chip perked up. His ears twitched toward the door, and Rusalka turned her head. She didn't hear anything, and as far as she was concerned it was probably a rabbit.

The door swung open suddenly and very harshly. A large man stood in the doorway. He was broad shouldered, clad in black leather armor, and had long white hair that was put up in a shitty bun. He was breathing heavily and bleeding profusely, from where Rusalka couldn't tell, but from the amount of red liquid pooling at his feet it seemed like everywhere. Even from his face.

"I need.....need......" he wobbled in the doorway and Rusalka stood up, setting her cup of tea down on the bench,

"need lodging..." and with that, he fell over. The man hit the ground like a cannonball and shook the shelves around him. Rusalka blinked a second before rushing over,

"shit. Really?" she stood over his body, taking notice that this was a very large warrior of some kind and he was obviously very, very heavy, "fuck. How in the gods am I supposed to move this guy? He's the size of a mountain!" she exclaimed. Chip let out a meow in acknowledgment.

It took Rusalka about an hour to drag him across the shop and up into the guest bedroom. It wasn't really a bedroom, simply a bed, a nightstand, and a fireplace. There was no wall or door separating it from the shop, but it was two small steps up onto the platform. It was about ten minutes to get him up the steps.

Rusalka looked at the man, now face up, and still bleeding. Now all over the wool carpet she kept in the bedroom. She cursed herself for not moving it first, no way all that blood would come out.

"I'll make a solution for it in the morning. Hopefully it's strong enough."

Chip had gradually followed Rusalka while she dragged the man through the shop. He made a 'prrip!' sound. There was no way in all the kingdoms she'd be able to lift him onto the bed, let alone allow him to bleed on the sheets as well. Rusalka looked behind her and sure enough, a large, sticky trail of blood covered her shop floor. She pouted and whined about it before returning her attention to him. Whoever he was.

Rusalka knelt down over him, careful of wherever his wounds were. She leaned her ear against his face. Still breathing. She definitely had her work cut out for her. As she leaned away, a glint caught her eye. She inspected it, and underneath his armor was a necklace. It depicted a wolf and a sparrow, and Rusalka recognized it instantly. This wasn't just some warrior.

This was a witcher.

She gently pried one of his eyes open and sure enough, yellow irises. She could've guessed from the white hair and unfamiliar armor.

The first step was removing his armor. It was tedious, and the fastenings were extremely irritating given her focal point, at one point she had to lift him to a sitting position, prop his body up with her knee, and undo the clasps on his back. She tossed the large swords to the side and removed the shoulder pads, and then the chest armor. Once removed Rusalka realised he was in much worse shape than she anticipated. It was a miracle he made it to the shop in the state he was in, let alone stood up. She didn't know where the witcher came from or what the hell he fought to end up like this, but she'd inquire about it when he woke. She'd also scold him for his brash entrance and all the fucking blood and dirt he left in her shop.

There were many slashes and cuts about his body, arms, and back, and a bite mark. About a meter long and wide, with huge teeth marks that sank deep into his flesh. The area also seemed infected, likely a poison or secretion from the monster he fought. Hopefully he won, a beast that big would terrorize her poor little shop.

Rusalka wound up on her knees straddling his lap. She was bent over, needle and thread in hand, sewing together a gash below his collar bone. She had bandaged the bite, along with some herbs and a healing mixture. She tugged a last stitch together and snipped it with the sewing scissors currently held in her teeth and moved to another gash lower on his abdomen. If this were a different situation, Rusalka would be red with embarrassment. The witcher was very well built, muscular and overall a very pleasing specimen. There were a few split second instances where she'd find herself staring and admiring his body. She'd quickly shake the thought away. She'd been on her own for decades, and she chalked the infatuation up to simply not having a lover for a very long time.

She gently prodded the needle into his skin, using the cloth in her other hand to help keep the blood at bay, and finished the stitch shortly. Rusalka leaned back, admiring her work, and noticed a split in his forehead. She sighed. Her hands were long tired and her back was killing her, but this witcher was badly wounded and she wouldn't risk him getting any more blood on her floors.

She shifted up his body and leaned down to his face, focusing her eyes on the wound instead of his features. Chip was curled up on the bed to her left, and she felt the cat's gaze on her. The connection she shared with her familiar allowed them a closer understanding than usual animals, and Rusalka knew the cat had noticed her racing heartbeat and irregular breath. She was straddling the waist of this witcher, her hand on his chest to steady herself as she sat trained on his face. She finished the stitch after a minute. As she put the needle away and dabbed at the remaining blood on his face, Rusalka felt herself wander again. This time she let it happen. Once this witcher was mended and gone, the chances of her seeing him again were nil. He was no doubt one of the most attractive people she'd ever laid eyes on and she wasn't about to let such a person leave without committing him to memory. Perhaps she'd sketch him out later. Rusalka propped herself on his chest, her hands firm ontop of him, and stared. Her eyes roamed across his cheekbones, nose and lips. She was almost regretful she'd never see him again.

The witcher grumbled something, his legs shifting under Rusalka, and she froze in terror. This man was a fierce killer, and he could be a very unpleasant guest. Witcher's weren't exactly known for their manners.

His eyes opened and Rusalka was frozen in place. Their eyes locked and her hand tremor began to shake her fingers over his chest. They stared at eachother before the witcher spoke,

"um...hello."

His voice was deep and gravelly and it sent a shiver up her spine. The witcher seemed to scan her as well, her wide eyes and wild red hair tied up. Her mouth was slightly open to say something, but she shot up and off him instead.

"I'm- I was just, uh...fixing your wounds. Y'know you really shouldn't just barge in here like that, I have many valuable and enchanted items in here!" she looked away. Rusalka wiped her hands on her apron, stained with his blood, and heard him sit up. Her thoughts got the best of her and she turned around again, watching him turn his head to take in his surroundings. His hands roamed over his chest, feeling the bandages and stitches that littered has torso. He reached the bite and winced.

"What did you fight? If you....don't mind me asking. It did quite a number on you." Rusalka took a step toward him, careful to not cross a line.

He sighed, "a pack of wargs. Big, brutal ones." he looked further and noticed the vast trail of blood all over her floor, "sorry. For the mess."

"Oh, no. It's fine! I needed to mop anyway." Rusalka replied. She had completely forgotten about scolding him for it. "What's your.....what's your name? I've met a few witcher's in my time but I don't think I've ever come across....you."

The witcher turned his head up to her, contemplating on giving her a response, "Geralt."

She smiled. Geralt.

"How long was I asleep for?" he asked. Geralt stood up and Rusalka jolted forward to catch him, but he seemed fine. Then she remembered that witcher's have more evolved healing than a usual person.

"Uh, about a day. Here, sit down." she placed her hand on his arm and ushered him to the bed, where Chip hopped off to give him space. She frowned at the small mattress, he wouldn't fit on such a thing. Geralt obliged, sitting on the bed. Rusalka quickly removed her hand from his arm. He looked up at her again and she smiled. He noticed that it wasn't a fearful smile, nor a nervous one, which is what he usually received from normal people. It was a welcome change, and he almost smiled back. Rusalka turned and walked away before the thought festered.

"I'll make you some tea. Don't move."

Rusalka returned with the drink shortly and handed it to Geralt, "I'm Rusalka, by the way. Alcestor."

He stopped before he took a drink. Alcestor. He knew that name. Vesemir once mentioned an herbalist by the name of Rusalka Alcestor, but that was almost fifty years ago. He assumed it must have been her mother, or grandmother even. The woman in front of him couldn't be more than 35.

Geralt drank the tea quickly, and when he was finished he almost wished he had savored it. It was sweet, but had an almost faint salt taste to it. Plus it smelled like a fire. She was most definitely an herbalist, if not some kind of witch or mage.

While Geralt drank the tea, Rusalka contemplated his sleeping situation. He needed more rest no doubt, but the tiny bed wouldn't do.

"Geralt," she said his name, and the sound of it from her mouth was something they both took pleasant notice to, "I-I noticed you're.....quite tall. There's a bigger bed upstairs, if you like." she offered. It was her bed, yes, but with Geralt in her home Rusalka doubted she'd get a wink of sleep anyway.

He sat and thought about it. His head was pounding and more sleep sounded amazing, but he really should keep moving. That's what he always did, keep moving. But the thought of resting, and in the company of Rusalka, was too tempting.

"Thank you."

Geralt had been escorted upstairs, Rusalka was still nervous about him collapsing, and she now sat on the window bench that she was seated on when he barged in and fainted on her doorstep. Her tea was still sitting there, it had grown cold and the herbs inside had separated and floated to the top, but she didn't notice. She was thinking too much about the witcher upstairs. Sleeping. In her bed.

When Geralt woke the next morning, Rusalka had fallen asleep on the bench. Her head was propped up on her elbow and she was snoring gently. Geralt didn't want to wake her, so he gathered his things and left promptly. Rusalka woke hours later when he was long gone.

She cleaned her shop without a word.

Rusalka was disappointed he didn't say goodbye, and terribly upset she'd never see him again.

But she did.

The next time Geralt came into her store, Rusalka was with a customer. When she saw him walk into the doorway, instead of falling into it, she couldn't contain her excitement. She practically shooed the woman out the door.

Rusalka turned around and smiled at him, a large grin that was pure joy at seeing him again. Geralt smiled back this time, a small one, but a smile all the same. They talked for a while, he told her stories of what he'd been doing in the time he'd been gone like they were old friends, and he left with a talisman and a blooming tea (a gift, he paid for the talisman but Rusalka gave him the tea on the house.) he stared at the wrap of leaves when she handed it to him. "Just pour hot water on it, you'll see!" she said. He thanked her as he left.

When Geralt arrived again, months later, he was wounded. Not nearly as bad as the warg incident, but badly enough for stitches.

"Why don't you just go see an actual doctor? I know there's plenty of healers in Cintra." she asked him while she worked.

"You do a better job." he replied. She looked up at him, awestruck at the compliment, and he added, "Plus I like your tea."

Rusalka blushed and bit back a smile. He liked her tea. His words would stick with her for months after, and everytime she brewed more she'd hear him say it.

I like your tea.

Over the next few years, Geralt would make stops into her store. As time went on, Rusalka noticed it was more than just convenient. His visits ranged from needing a place to stay, stitching up a wound, or he was looking for a talisman or herb. Rusalka was always a little wistful, but she hoped that Geralt thought of her as a little more than just a shopkeep. Maybe they were friends.

Although Geralt suppressed his emotions fiercely, it was increasingly difficult to ignore the budding feeling in his chest when Rusalka was around. When she'd smile and welcome him back, or when she'd sit and focus on fixing his wounds, being more gentle with him than anyone had ever before. He had been with women before, lots of times, and some he might say he had feelings for, but Rusalka was different. She was so much different. It was almost sickening how he felt around her. Geralt's relations with women rarely went deeper than a one night stand or a regular hookup, but after years of knowing her, Rusalka had never once been such a thing. She was his friend, and a close one at that. Through his travels following their encounter, he realised he really didn't have a want or need for sleeping around. His mind always wandered to her. It was intoxicating, and he was scolded once at a brothel for being "too uninterested"

For Rusalka, it was almost worse. She had lived a long time, longer than she'd care to remember, and through her life she never really had anyone. Her mother died from disease, her father went off and presumably died somewhere blackout drunk, and she never had any siblings. She had her grandmother, who taught her most of what she knew, but even she went away. Rusalka grew up estranged from the public and often in the woods. She saved up money from odd jobs and commissioned a builders league for a cabin, and she's lived there ever since. She knows she's lived much past what she was supposed to, and to be honest, she doesn't remember how she did. If she had to guess, Rusalka would say she's in her late 90's, probably further. Sure she's been with people, both men and women, but none of them stuck. She can't say she'd ever fallen in love. But Geralt. That big stubborn witcher. He's the one evidently to break her loveless life. She thought about him all the time, dazing off about wondering where he was, and when he'd be back. Her chest pounded with the thought of him, and she did end up sketching him. Once or twice. Or quite a few times more. It was stupid and childish. Rusalka was spiteful about her feelings toward him, and sometimes they would subside, but every time he walked in her door it would start up again. Eyes yellow and gleaming with new stories to tell her.

Geralt didn't bother knocking. He opened the door and shuffled into the shop. It was late, a night much like their first meeting, and Geralt was worse for wear.

He closed the door behind him halfheartedly, leaving it ajar just a bit, and took a wobbly step forward. The shop was dark, the lamps had long been turned out. He reached for a shelf to steady his steps, but faltered and fell against it, causing a loud crash to ring out though the shop. He grunted out a "fuck" before the upstairs door creaked open.

Footsteps padded down the stairs and into the main room, and although Rusalka couldn't see, she figured she knew who it was.

"Geralt?" Rusalka's voice asked from the dark. He took another step forward and felt her hands on his chest to steady him,

"There you are, my witcher." she whispered, knowing he was hurt and careful of the way she held him. Geralt leaned his head down to find hers and their foreheads touched for a second. Rusalka let him loop his arm around her shoulder and she guided him through the shop to the bedroom.

"Oh, Geralt. Yet again you show up beaten at my doorstep." she said. After all this time Geralt was still shocked at her calm and gentle mood, literally no one was ever this happy to see him, he could even hear the smile in her voice. She helped him walk over to the guest bed, which she had since replaced with a bigger one. Geralt sat down with a huff,

"I'm sorry for the sudden entrance. again." he almost laughed. Rusalka smiled and patted his shoulder,

"Nonsense."

The witcher let out a gruff noise in response, his eyes closed. Chip hopped up on the bed next to him and rubbed his head against Geralt's arm.

Rusalka moved around her shop to gather ingredients for mending up the witcher, and Geralt realised something.

"How....how can you see?" he sounded quizzical. Geralt had enhanced eyesight but it didn't do much good when it was this damn dark. Normally he'd take a cat potion to see in such a void. Rusalka placed her supplies on the bed next to Geralt and responded,

"I have some special features. Of sorts." she lifted Geralt's face up to look at her and she whispered, "I was wondering when you'd come back. I missed you, y'know." she started on his armor, by now well versed in removing it.

"missed you too."

Rusalka felt her face heat up. He missed her. By the gods she was terribly head over heels. She undid all the clasps and fastenings of his armor and discarded it. The lamp on the bedside table slowly illuminated and Geralt saw that she hadn't a match to have lit it. He figured she was a witch or mage over the years but never had he seen her magic in action like this. The light cast flickering shadows across Geralt's chest and allowed Rusalka to see better as she sewed him back together. She looked up to his face as she finished and noticed a large gash across the bridge of his nose and underneath his left eye. She furrowed her brow and grabbed a new needle before lifting up her skirts and seating herself on his lap without hesitation. Rusalka was so focused on her work she barely noticed her actions. She brought a cloth up and dabbed at the blood surrounding the open wound, straddling the witcher's lap. He scanned her face as she did so, letting her other hand come up to cup his face and steady her stitches. Rusalka could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her own and she blinked a second. The situation registered in her mind and she froze. Once again she was on his lap, staring at his face. This time he was sitting up and completely conscious, her hand on his cheek, faces mere centimeters apart.

"I'll be off in a second. Just....finishing this stitch." she bit the inside of her mouth, half to keep down a smile and half to keep herself from kissing him right then and there.

"I don't mind." he replied. She felt the rumble of his voice in his chest and felt an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of her stomach. Rusalka pulled the twine taught in his flesh and snipped the string loose, putting down her supplies and shifting to get up. Geralt placed his hand on her arm, letting her know that he wanted her to stay put. Rusalka didn't move any further, and sank back into place. She felt her whole body heat up as she did, letting his golden eyes roam across her features and land on hers. She took a short, chaste breath before he started to speak,

"I've realised something about you. Something I can't avoid." Geralt spoke softly. Rusalka placed her hands on his bare chest and stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Never had I been treated so kindly until you. Nobody looked at me with such a gentle gaze as you do, Rusalka." he brought his hand up and held her face, her head small in comparison. "I often find myself thinking about you. When I'm long gone and far away, I always strive to come back to you. To your kindness." he sighed. Rusalka raised her arm and held his hand against her own on her face, her other one still in place on his chest.

"I am not kind, or gentle. I'm a mutant beast, bred for death and a monstrous curse on the world," he saw her eyes soften at his harsh words against himself and she almost intervened when he continued, "But I don't feel like that with you. I feel like I can be something else. Something better. I feel.....I..." Geralt lost his words in his throat. Rusalka smiled at him and he nearly lost his composure at the sweet look on her face. It was unimaginable how delicate she was and how loving she could be.

"I figured you kept coming back here for more than just the tea." she leaned down and closed the distance between them with a kiss. His lips were warm against hers, and his mouth tasted like ale and blood. Geralt wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him. The kiss deepened and Rusalka brought her arms around his neck and nestled her fingers into his white hair, still matted with dirt. They separated and Rusalka gasped for air a little, her mind racing and wanting more.

Geralt brushed a stray, curly strand of hair back behind her ear and glided his hand down into the bright red locks, "I'm in love with you."

Rusalka brightened, a smile gracing her face, "I know, my witcher."

From then on, Geralt's visits were regular. He stopped by a few times every moon, depending on where he was coming or going from. Nothing much changed in his missions department, he still took jobs whenever and wherever, but he always held comfort in the fact that he had someplace to return to. Someone to welcome him back.

As for Rusalka, the only thing that changed was the spring in her step and the skip in her heartbeat when she heard his heavy footsteps to her door. She still got her customers and she still sat in her windows and tended to her garden, but she had little things she prepared for Geralt as well. Growing special herbs for his potions and healing as well as preparing a small stable for Roach to stay under, which the horse greatly appreciated, according to Geralt.

#🐺#f/o x s/i #f/o fic

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imagineyourworld · 3 years

Text

How the clones would ask you out (Genderneutral)

Includes Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Kix, Cody and Wolffe

Warnings: None

Rex

Poor Rex would be so, so nervous

It took pep talks vom Anakin, Ahsoka and several of his brothers to get up the courage to actually ask you out (though not all of them were all that helpful)

Rex wouldn’t ask you out in public or at work, he’d go to your flat instead

His strong knock doesn’t betray his nerves, but the second you open the door he cannot remember what he was going to say for the life of him

Luckily he was trained as a soldier his entire life and it only takes him a few second to forget about his nerves and continue with his plan

“I was wondering if you’d like to go on a picnic with me tomorrow?”

A picnic, Ahsoka had convinced him, would be the perfect first date. The two of them had even decided on a nice place in one of Coruscant’s few parks together

(Plus Rex likes to bake and cook, it’s his way of dealing with the stress of war (and his brothers’ shenanigans))

“I’d love to.”

You have never seen such a big smile on Rex’s face

“Great. That’s great.”

You chatted for a few more minutes before Rex had to excuse himself. Just as you were closing the door you stuck your head out again. “Rex?” “Yes.” “Is this a date?” The small blush on his face was adorable. “I’d like it to be, if that’s fine with you.” You smiled. “It’s more than fine.”

Fives

If anyone has an actual pickup line it’s Fives, not in a creepy way though, he’s cute about it

The two of you have been flirting back and forth for a while now and Fives, after finally no longer denying his feelings, decides to ask you out

He walks up to you with every bit of confidence he can muster

“Hey handsome, what brings you here?”, you ask. Your usual greeting, but Fives doesn’t reply in the way he usually does (”Hey mesh’la, just coming to admire the view.”) “Since you make my heart sing I was wondering if you’d like to accompany to a concert tomorrow.”

You could tell that he wasn’t joking this time, but still decided to have your fun with him.

“So sorry, I already promised another handsome young man with a number as his name to spend the day with him.” As soon as the words left your mouth the smile fell from Fives’ face and instantly made you regret your words. “Oh, baby, no. I was only joking. I’d love to go out with you.” The smirk was back and brighter than ever. “It’s a date!”, he said a bit louder than he had to.

He’d kiss you on the cheek before saying goodbye.

(And maybe he even whispers suggestions for what you could do after the concert in your ear.)

Echo

Much like Rex, Echo is quite nervous

At first he was glad to have Fives on his side to give him advice, but he soon learned that not everything his brother suggested would go down well

He’d wait for you at work and offer to walk you home, because someone once told him that travelling in the same direction eases conversation

When you exit the building your eyes immediately fall on Echo, who is standing nearby with flowers in his hand. “What are you doing here?”, you ask with a smile on your face. “I... well... I saw these flowers in the market downton and they made me think of you.” He hands you the flowers, suddenly even more nervous now that he doesn’t have anything in his hands. “That’s so sweet”, you say as you lift the flowers to your nose. “I was just on my way home, would you like to join me and come in for a cup of caf?”

The two spend the rest of the day together. Walking home, drinking caf, cooking dinner. After a while Echo’s nervousness fades and only returns when he realises it’s time for him to return to the barracks.

“Actually I had another reason to come to see you today. I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. Like on a date. If you would like to go on a date with me.” You laugh and the sound Echo usually cherishes breaks his heart, which you soon realise. “Oh, Echo, honey, no! I mean yes, but I just thought that today was kinda like... a date... I’m sorry, I was just assuming, I should have actually asked you.” A smile mirroring yours appeared on his face. “So... How about a second date?”

Jesse

Jesse only realises that he needs to ask you out as soon as possible after a particularly tough mission. A lot of his brothers died, even more got hurt, and he spent a few days in the medbay as well.

The second he’s back on Coruscant he comms you asking where you are and no matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’s on his way to you as soon as you answer.

“Stars, Jesse, what’s gotten into you?”, you ask when you open the door to his rapid knocking. “I like you, I really like you and I don’t want to die without ever asking you out. So, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” At first you don’t know what to say. “Of course I’ll go out with you. But maybe you should sit down for a minute, you don’t seem like yourself.”

After just a few minutes and a cup of herbal tea the two of you were talking and joking like always. That is until you remember an appointment you had to hurry to make. “I’d hate to throw you out, but I really need to go.” “That’s fine”, Jesse says with a smile. “How about I pick you up tomorrow at seven for our date?” You nod your head smiling.

Kix

Kix asks you out more or less on accident. It’s been a long day, he’s tired, and all he wants is a relaxing evening with you.

“Hey, Kix, you wanna come to 79s with us?”, Fives, who just popped into the medbay, asks. Kix shook his head. “I really don’t. If it were up to me I’d spend the evening with some takeout and (Y/N).” “(Y/N)?”, Jesse follows up. “They help me relax like no one else and that’s what I need after stitching you idiots up all day”, Kix says, glancing at Fives and Hardcase at his last words. “Then how about we grab something to eat and spend the evening on my couch?”, you offer. Everyone turns to you, who had just entered the room. Echo bursts in a second later. “Sorry, I tried to stop her from coming in.”

Kix blushes like crazy, you weren’t supposed to hear that. He tells you as much.

You walk over to where he’s sitting, miraculously the others have disappeared, and place a hand on his shoulder. If it weren’t for the armour covering him you would have loved nothing more than giving him a soothing massage.

“You know what? I’m here because I wanted to ask you out, but I guess you just did that for me.” He chuckled. “Guess so. Let’s go, I cannot wait for our date.”

Cody

Cody would be so smooth when asking you out, mainly because he got advice from Obi-Wan, who flirts with everyone and could teach him a few good moves.

His tactic is pretending you already agreed, which is why he spent the afternoon transforming his room into a small movie theatre for the two of you, complete with snacks and drinks and a holoprojector.

He then makes his way over to your apartment to actually ask you out. And though he hadn’t been nervous all day, the second you open the door he’s at a loss for words.

“(Y/N), cyare, I was wondering... No, that’s not it... I’m here to ask you... No, wait... Would you like to...” Though you can’t help but find his out of character rambling cute, you want nothing more than to put poor Cody out of his misery. “Would you care for a glass of water?”, you ask, opening the door further to invite him in.

For some reason the cool water helps him sort out his thoughts and he can finally ask the question he’d prepared earlier. “Would you like to watch a movie with me tonight?”, he asks, his voice smooth and steady. For a fraction of a second there was something that might have been disappointment in your eyes, but then you nodded. “Sure. Why don’t we invite Waxer and Boil as well?” Cody had been quite sure that you’d agree, but the second part caught him off guard. Maybe he should have been more obvious with his intention. “Actually, I was hoping it’d be just the two of us.” You raised an eyebrow. “Wait a minute, Cody, did you just ask me on a date?” A shy smile made it’s way on his face, though to his credit he didn’t blush. “I did.” He had no idea how it was possible, but the smile on your face was even brighter than his own. “In that case, yes! I’d love to watch a movie with you.”

Wolffe

The main reason Wolffe was reluctant to ask you out was not nerves, but rather not wanting to admit his feelings, not wanting to admit a weakness. It was actually Plo Koon who, through ambiguous comments, convinced him to just do it.

He didn’t want it to be a big ceremony, he wasn’t the type for big gestures, but that night, as you were sitting at 79s with the Wolfpack and your eyes were glittering in the multicoloured lights and your perfume made its way to Wolffe’s nose, he just had to ask you out before it was too late, before anything happened to either of you or someone else asked you before he did.

And so, when most of the others were scattered across the bar, he asked you if you’d like to get some air with him. He may not be one for big gestures, but he’d be damned if he asked you out in a stuffy bar surrounded by his drunk brothers.

Outside, he realized was not the perfect environment either. There were still drunk clones around and instead of stuffy it was cold, cold enough to make you shiver in your thin clothes and Wolffe wished he had a jacket he could give you. “I’ll make this quick so you can go back inside. I-”, he stopped himself. You were suddenly a lot closer than just a few moments ago, he could feel your warm breath on his face and it made him lose all focus. “Yes, Wolffe?”, you questioned. He cleared his throat and continued. “I was hoping that you’d like to go on a date with me sometime.”

The atmosphere may not have been perfect, neither were his words, but your smile was and it made up for everything else. “I don’t know, Commander, what’s in it for me?”, you asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know. Dinner, maybe flowers or chocolate”, he replied, trying his best to hide the sudden insecurity. You crossed your arms over your chest and sighed. Wolffe knew what was coming next, he knew you’d let him down and it would be awkward. He never should have asked you out. “You know, I had been hoping you’d say The pleasure of my company or something like that, but I suppose chocolate will do.” A smirk had made it’s way to your lips and a low chuckled escaped Wolffe’s. “Is that a yes, mesh’la?” “It is.”

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bluemoonstonesy · 3 years

Note

Hello! Could i please get prompt 51 with Mason Mount and/or number 75 with jack grealish? Thank you 💞

“I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

Mason Mount

warnings: slight smut

“Alright mister grumpy?" You murmur, leaning against the doorframe "Fancy a cup of tea?"

He stays silent, staring idly ahead at the tv screen, a fluffy blanket thrown over his shoulders since the heating had decided to suddenly shut off a few hours prior. He only grumbles something inaudible in response, not having the effort to reply properly.

"Oh Mase," You sigh, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, "It'll be fine."

"Yeah. Whatever."

He doesn’t mean to be rude, But recent events have been pushing him over the edge. He was going to end things anyway. But seeing her, there, with him. That was the final nail in the coffin. And he didn’t want to stay there after that. Choosing instead to run away from his problems, arriving at his best friend’s door step with nothing but the clothes on his back.

“Come on, let’s watch a film!” You can’t stand to see him like this, devastated over a girl who couldn’t even treat him like he deserved, “Move over.”

“I’m not watching any girly romance shit.” He mumbles, still making room for you nonetheless. You lie next to him, placing the remote in his hand.

“You choose something then.”

And he does. Opting for some miscellaneous action thing that you didn’t even catch the name of. You didn’t particularly enjoy these types of films, but seeing the small smile appear on his face made your previous preferences disappear completely.

You pull some of the blanket over yourself, the coldness beginning to hit you too. He whines in protest, snatching the cover back towards him with a smug grin, “Get your own.”

This sparks a comical battle over the blanket. The navy material going back and forth between the pair of you until you both surrender, opting to move closer together underneath to maintain more warmth.

You both continue watching the film together, feeling content for the first time since he’d arrived at your doorstep. As the TV continues to flicker, something comes over him, and before he knows it, he’s tracing circles down your waist. His fingers going lower and lower until he rests his hand just above your hip.

You notice immediately, but for some reason you don’t push him away. His hands continue to move downwards, but you still don’t respond, a part of you wanting him to carry on.

He moves his head into the crook of your neck and you can feel his breath on your skin as he pauses for a moment. Without a second thought, you give him the silent signal to go ahead, not having time to think about consequences as he begins to leave soft kisses on your neck.

It feels wrong, but simultaneously so right. You can’t deny that you’d been waiting for this moment. There had been countless occasions where you’d been mistaken for his girlfriend. And sometimes you wanted to say that you were, just to see his reaction. You’ve wanted to say something for so long but the thought of losing your friendship was too terrifying to risk.

“Wait!” You pause, those doubting thoughts swirling in your mind. Mason now in front of you as he maintains eye contact. You don’t want this to turn into something that you’ll both regret, “This is wrong Mase. You’ve just broken up with Dani and you’re my best friend for fuck sake!”

A sudden and unexpected surge of confidence leaves his mouth, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them, “Tell me to stop then. Tell me to stop right now.”

But you don’t. Instead you both reconnect your lips as you run a hand through his hair.

“It’s always been you, y’know.” He mumbles into the kiss, the statement sending a shiver down your spine as you realise your mutual feelings for each other “Just you.”

“It’s always been you too,” You finally reply, his mouth trailing down your neck once again as you whimper his name, soft lips dancing across your collarbones.

But he suddenly stops and begins to remove himself from the sofa, a small wave of panic running over you as he stands up; did he not want this after all?

“Come on.” He holds out his hand, eyes signalling exactly what he wants. You grin as he pulls you from underneath the blanket.

“Well you’re pretty shit at hiding things then,” You tease his earlier statement as he leads you down the corridor to your room, “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.”

#mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount one shot #chelsea imagine #england nt imagine #football fanfic #football imagine #this is literally awful i’m sorry

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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

Text

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.

You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.

You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.

The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.

Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.

Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.

While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.

The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.

You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.

“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.

“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”

“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.

“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.

You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.

He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.

“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.

You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.

“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.

“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.

“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.

You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.

“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Little Bones 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, anger, humiliation, control, violence, threats.

This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down

Note: Here’s the finale for Thor’s part in our Birch story! Yay! But is it yay? We never known with his BDE (Big Doofus Energy). But anyway, here we go.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Chapter 7: Baby, eat this chicken slow, it's full of all them little bones

The morning light was pale as it slipped in between the curtains and sent a shiver through you as an immovable warmth blazed against your back and clung to your body. The night ended as well as it could have, which was poorly. Your drunken outburst settled in your gut in sour alcoholic regret.

You shifted your legs, thighs tender from the last of Thor’s irritation, and carefully sat up so that his arm fell away from you. He grumbled and rolled onto his side as he tickled your spine.

“Where’re you going?” he asked groggily.

“Coffee,” you said curtly as you touched your forehead.

“Mmmm,” he hummed and the bed creaked as he turned flat onto his back and stretched.

You stood and went to your dresser. You pulled out a night shirt and swooped it over your head, your head pulsing with your unthinking excess. You glanced back at Thor, his thick torso naked above the messy blankets as he laid with his eyes shut and arms wide. His blonde hair fanned out around his head as his chest rose and fell steadily.

You left him and went to the kitchen, tiles cool beneath your feet and the air toasty as the radiator sent off waves of stolid heat. You measured the coffee and fed the machine water. You tiptoed into the hallway and took your purse from the shoe rack and searched out your emergency bottle of Advil. You swallowed them dry and went back to stand at the counter and listen to the grind.

You watched the trickle of the dark brew as it began to spit into the pot. You hung your head and leaned on the linoleum top, fingers tapping as the stream continued. You heard his yawn and his footsteps on the hardwood before they met the tile. You didn’t bother to look over and instead opened the cupboard to pull out a mug.

As you set it down, Thor came up behind you and reached to grab one of his own. He held himself flush to your back as the porcelain clinked down beside your own and he pressed against you until your hips were at the counter. You sighed and focused on the trickle of coffee.

He hummed and nuzzled your head as he drew a hand back to feel along your thigh. He brushed his fingertips over your ass and squeezed.

“Please, I’m hungover,” you moaned, “I just want coffee--”

“I’ll be gentle,” he cooed, “besides what better to relieve some tension?”

“Don’t you ever have enough?” you scowled as he lifted your night shirt and gripped your hips, fingers tracing the line of your curves.

“Of you? Never,” he said, “last night… you know I like your teeth, kitten, but there is a time for them to come out. That wasn’t it.”

“What do you want from me?” you gritted your teeth as he continued to feel you up. You realised as his arousal grazed your ass that he was still naked, “why can’t you stop? I never wanted--”

“I’m good to you, kitten,” he intoned, “a man like me, we aren’t nice too many.”

“Nice? Is that what--”

“You goad me,” his voice deepened as he pushed his hand between your legs, “you walk a very thin line, kitten. I’d as soon grab you by the scruff.”

He bent and dragged his lips along your neck as he spread your cunt and flicked his middle finger along your clit. You hissed and gripped the counter. His touch rippled through you and you closed your eyes in futile resistance.

“But I pet you nice,” he coaxed, “don’t I?”

“Thor--”

“Mmm, that’s exactly what I want to hear,” he grazed your skin with his teeth and nipped.

You held your breath as he added another finger and played with you. You still felt the night before but the new sensations dulled the lingering ache. You quivered as he slid further back and teased your entrance, rocking his hips so that his hardness rubbed against you firmly.

You tensed as he poked a finger inside of you then another. He sank down to his knuckles and curled them, his hand against your clit as he squeezed. His hot breath seeped below your shirt as you own hitched. He shoved another finger into you and you gulped as he stretched you.

You heard how wet you were as your walls clenched him hungrily. You hated that your body responded to him so eagerly even as that voice in the back of your head kept whispering back at you to stop.

He urged you back against him and tilted your pelvis, his other hand kneading the flesh along your thigh. He trailed around your ass and stroked himself as he angled his tip along your cheeks and bent his knees to poke against his fingers.

He slid his fingers out of you and kept them on your clit as he pressed his cock along your entrance. He eased into you slowly as he drew circles around your bud. You trembled and bit your lip as you hung your head and he bit into your shoulder as he sank to his limit.

He rocked slowly as the coil twisted around his fingertips and your walls clung to him. You spread your hands flat on the counter as he moved you against it, hips hitting the curled edge of the linoleum.

Your helplessness turned into desperation to get off. You leaned back into him as you stood on your toes, back arching as you welcomed each cloying thrust of his hips. Your voice fluttered from you and echoed in your head. You muffled yourself with your palm and he tore your hand away.

He swirled his fingers faster and you breathed through your nose as you held in the rising glee. You growled as you came, legs shaking and cunt gripping him tightly. He took your orgasm as a cue and sped up, the impact of your hips growing painful against the counter.

You felt another climax about to erupt inside of you but your nerves spiked in another way as an unexpected knock sounded. Thor grunted but never wavered as he kept fucking you. He snaked his thick arm around your neck and forced you against him entirely, nearly taking you off your feet as his other hand stayed between your legs.

The knock came again, louder and impatient. Thor’s bicep pressed to your throat as your head lolled along his shoulder. He growled and his flesh slapped harder against yours as he chased his own release. Tap, tap, tap.

“One second!” he called to the door and choked on his voice.

He rammed into you hard and you felt the sudden flow inside of you. He didn’t slow as he coated your walls, not until he was spent and oversensitive. He shuddered as the knocking became constant and he let you slump against the counter as he slipped out of you. He inhaled sharply as it made him wince and he slapped your ass.

“We have company,” he said as he grabbed the paper towel and wiped himself off.

He turned away and tossed the crumpled rectangle into the bin. You watched him stomp through the living room and curve back around to the door as he snatched up a throw to knit around his waist. You squeezed your thighs together and pulled down your night shirt as he turned the latch. You focused on pouring your coffee as shame bubbled in your chest.

“If it wasn’t snowing, I wouldn’t have waited so long,” Loki complained as Thor opened the door.

“It wasn’t that long,” Thor grumbled, “what is it?”

“You asked me to come here first thing. Do you not remember, brother?” Loki snipped and you sensed him peeking over at you, “though I might understand why your mind wandered.”

“I recall,” Thor swept back into the living room as Loki stepped out of his boots.

“Good morning,” he slithered and you looked over at him.

“Coffee?” you asked as you held up the carafe.

“I prefer tea but thank you,” he continued on after his brother and you huffed quietly.

You put the pot back on the burner and slowly parted your legs. You ripped off some paper towel and wiped away the cum before it grew sticky on your skin. You quivered as you brushed your sensitive cunt and did your best to clean up.

You took your mug and sneaked out of the kitchen and down the hall as you heard the men’s voices. You didn’t so much as look at them as you escaped to your room. You kept the door open a crack as you searched out some clothes and flung them on the bed.

“Well, I was thinking perhaps you wouldn’t have to remain,” Loki ventured, “your organization will need you back as soon as this snow clears.”

“You hate this place,” Thor argued, “so why--”

“I hate your little band of brutes worse,” Loki interrupted, “besides, you’ve done what you needed. You’ve come to agreement with the locals and now you can be off to your usual… affairs.”

“And what about yours?”

“My business has always been cleaning up after you. You will need one here with the acumen to secure the deal and all its complex facets.”

“These men don’t sign contracts,” Thor scoffed.

“That is not what I mean. You know my skills beyond legal tedium,” he replied, “you are far too distracted to see to it all yourself.”

“Hmmm,” Thor hummed and silence rose.

You took a gulp of coffee and clunked the cup down. You grabbed your clothes and hurried across to the bathroom and shut yourself in. You rinsed yourself with tap water before you dressed and listened again as their tones drifted through the small apartment.

“I suppose you make sense,” Thor conceded, “Heimdall hasn’t stopped calling these last days, or at least, I think. The service here… but I should be back.”

“Father, too,” Loki added.

“Father, too,” Thor agreed, “well, let us hope this storm passes soon.”

You emerged from the bathroom and crept down the hall. Loki stood as you looked into the living room and checked his silver watch. “I will leave you to your… recreation,” he smirked at you as he raised his chin, “but I will make arrangements for my prolonged stay as you ready for your departure.”

Thor nodded and waved him away. He leaned on his elbow as he rested his chin on his knuckles and Loki sent you another grin before he strode away. He pulled on his boots and left with a lilted “goodbye” to both of you.

You waited as the conversation replayed in your head. He was leaving. At last. You struggled not to smile and instead neared and took Loki’s former spot in the slouchy chair.

“You heard all that?” he asked the redundant question. You nodded and his blue eyes flicked out the window. “Well, we’ve got some packing to do.”

“We?” you echoed, “I… what?”

“You think I would leave you here?” his mouth curved, “kitten, this little town isn’t our end. It’s our beginning.”

“I can’t just leave. I have a job, I have an apartment, and--”

“And? You can have all those things if you come with me. Better even. We have a national archive, I know one of the curators, and I think you’ll like my place--”

“I’m not going with you,” you interrupted, “you’ve done enough. I won’t leave because of you.”

“Oh? You think it’s your decision? And what will you do otherwise? Will you drive home to your mother? She’s got a job of her own and I don’t think she has any room left in her life for her daughter. Not a daughter old enough to take care of herself. To be in the care of a man rather than her parent, yes?”

“I don’t need you to take--”

“You do need me. You don’t realise it because you’ve not seen what I could do to ruin your life. Truly. I’ve been rather generous and I’ve shown you only some of what I can do. I can give you everything or I can take everything,” he sat up and stretched his arm over the back of the couch, “you don’t want to see what I can take.”

You paused and stared at him. All light was gone from his blue eyes and his expression was void of any of his usual gaiety. You sat back as his words struck you. A sudden realisation chilled your blood.

“How do you know about my mom?”

“I’ve always been rather serious about you, kitten,” he said, “so why wouldn’t I want to know everything about you.”

You thought of Bucky’s girl and Steve’s. You used to pity them and now you were them. You pitied yourself and knew then the true extent of their futility.

As in all things, there was no denying Thor in this. But you wanted to, so much. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hit him, you wanted to run and never stop.

You got to your feet and turned away from him. “Did you want coffee?” you asked in resignation.

He was quiet for a moment. He understood and he knew you did too. That was your white flag.

“Just a touch of milk,” he replied.

You went into the kitchen and filled his mug. Yours was likely cold by then, you thought as you stirred in a cloud of milk. You replaced the carton in the fridge and stared at the machine. Your eyes crawled over every inch of the kitchen in a silent farewell.

You never liked this place; not the apartment, not the library, not the town. You always told yourself you would give anything to leave, to make it anywhere else. You regretted those naïve wishes. It should have been good enough. It was but now you couldn’t hold onto it.

Your fingers closed around the mug and you felt the heat through the porcelain. You furrowed your brow and let go of it. You turned and neared the other end of the counter. Your eyes rested on the knife block and you reached shakily to free a blade from its slot. You gripped it tight and turned it to catch the light.

If you killed him, you wouldn’t have to worry about him ever again. And if he killed you...

What were you thinking? What were you doing? You shook as you eyed the knife but could not bring yourself to put it back. There was only one way away from this man. Any cell would be freedom compared to him.

You tucked it into the back of your jeans and took the cup of coffee. You went into the living room and found Thor on his feet, his jeans low on his hips. You handed him the mug and watched him as he thanked you with a smile. He sipped as his other hand lingered along the top of the denim.

“Enough milk?” you asked, the air thick in your lungs as the handle of the jeans poked your back.

“Just perfect,” he assured you.

You stared at him as the hate roiled inside of you. You hated him. You really did. It didn’t matter if he could get you off, that he could be nice, he wasn’t nice. He was one of those bikers. Hell, you could be certain he was a killer. You weren’t crazy, he was.

You reached behind you as he turned and set down the mug. You pulled out the knife and cocked your arm back. You were knocked back as he spun and kicked you, his own hand flying up from his waistband. You fell onto the floor and the knife clattered away from you.

He knelt with his knee on your chest and pressed the barrel of his gun to your head. He leaned all his weight on you until you couldn’t breathe. You croaked and slapped at his leg as you gasped for air. The metal was hard and unyielding against your skull.

“I see you’ve made your choice,” he said as your eyes crossed in an effort to look at the gun, “the hard way it is.”

You closed your eyes, certain it would all end with a bang. He pulled the gun away and suddenly the weight was off your chest. As you peeked out from under your eyelids, he grabbed you by your neck and thrust you up to your feet. He had you dangling from his grip as he walked you across the room.

He slammed you into the wall so that your head spun. His blue eyes seared as he snarled and leaned in.

“Don’t you worry, kitten, I’ve got a nice little cage waiting for you,” he sneered, “but for now, this will do.”

He wrenched you forward then shoved you back against the wall. Your head bounced off it and left you in a daze. He let go and you fell to your knees. He grabbed the back of your shirt and dragged you into the hall. He tossed you into the bedroom ahead of him and moved swiftly to take his belt from where it was coiled on your dresser.

He got down to straddle you under him as you batted at him weakly. Your were senseless and stupid from his assault. You thought of the knife on the living room floor and wanted to sob. He wound the belt around your neck and pulled it tight.

“You better get used to wearing a collar, kitten,” he snarled as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, “or you’ll choke from it.”

💀💀💀

END

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saabbi · 3 years

Text

Regret part 9

Light in darkness

Genshin Impact Adeptus! reader

warnings: self-deprecation, imposter syndrome

word count: ~1.7k

notes: please remember that you are loved, and not just in the fic itself.

[previous] [next]

No words are needed to exchange. Zhongli must surely be curious, worried even, to find out what happened in Snezhnaya. But he remained quiet, pushing away the rampant thoughts running across his mind.

What’s most important isn’t digging out what happened, but that you’re alright and safe.

Zhongli doesn’t miss the pale complexion on you, making sure to swing by Bubu Pharmacy to ask Baizhu for some antiseptic cream and aspirin just in case you’re still feeling unwell.

He brought you to his residency, which is unsurprisingly close to the funeral parlour. A few sprouting flowers in the interior caught your eye, the blue distinguish colour resembles that of a jewel. It must be a good season for glazed lilies to grow and bloom.

“Would you like tea?” Zhongli turns his head to you, holding up a few cups.

“Yes, please.” He also takes out some cakes, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’re way too full for some tea snacks.

Zhongli is definitely inquisitive, his occasional glances and slight frown shows that he has much more to say apart from asking if you want tea and snacks.

But he didn’t ask you any questions, never pressuring you into telling him. He decided to wait until you feel ready to talk about it. For you, he can always wait.

You hold the cup in your palms, the warmth gradually spreading to your whole body.

“Zhongli,” you take a sip of the refreshing tea, making up your mind. “Can you ask Ganyu and Xiao to come? I… have something to tell you all.”

Zhongyi nervously nods with his heart thumping, not sure if he’s ready to hear what you have to tell them.

Silence fills the room, then your sharp inhales, the unsteady voice and shaking pupils as you begin to speak.

Your shaking voice, your spilling emotions, your trembling hands. The suffocating feeling in your heart and the bitterness in your throat. You keep on going, you can’t think straight, you feel light headed and exhausted, but you want to keep going. You want to tell them, the things you saw, the things you felt, the worthlessness eating you away.

Ganyu tugs your arm and hugs them tightly, Zhongli and Xiao each resting a hand on yours to remind you that they’re here. They let you keep going, even if you look like you’re in pain.

They listen in silence, allowing you to spill everything in the safe space. You stop for a second, hearing sniffles from the horned girl next to you.

Ganyu shakes her head, telling you that she’s okay, and that you can go on.

With trembling eyes and hoarse voice, you tell them, how you thought you would be okay even if the Tsarista didn’t need you anymore, thought it would be okay even if she throws you away. But you weren’t, your heart sunk to the bottom when she implied that you’re no longer needed, as if all the time you spent by her side as a faithful subordinate meant nothing to her.

You mentioned that you know the Tsarista is only interested in the power you possess, you repeatedly told yourself that if it’s what the Tsarista desires, you shall comply without any hard feelings, for you are her harbinger, her title-less twelfth harbinger.

So why did it hurt so much? Why did you feel something worse than physical pain? Like you were stabbed with thousand swords, mercilessly piercing you without a break, making you lose your breath and vision cloudy.

It felt like the world crumbled, blood rushing to your head and the sudden heaviness taking over your body.

Oh. In the midst of talking your own feelings out, you realised- you felt angry, desperate, hurt, betrayed.

You realised, that over the years, loyalty is not the only thing that sprouted. You always brushed it off, pretending like it never existed, but deep down, you felt angry.

Angry at the Tsarista for pulling you away from Liyue, angry at her for letting you go through terrible things, even if you can’t remember clearly what happened.

The mixture of admiration, loyalty, desperation and anger has always stuck within you whenever you see her cold yet graceful figure.

But you had nothing except her, so you clung onto your loyalty towards her and repressed other thoughts of her, ignoring the tingling senses and blindly telling yourself that you’re always loyal to the Tsarista.

Every single word that comes out, Zhongli takes them in all, even if it pricks his heart like thorns. He takes a deep breath and shuts shis eyes, he wants it to stop. But he knows he has to listen and share your burden.

He wants to listen, even if it hurts, lamenting for the times he couldn’t be there for you. But now, he could. And the least he could do is to listen to you.

In the past, Zhongli failed miserably as a guardian, but now he has the chance to be with the three of his beloved adepti once again. He’s the listener, he’ll always be willing to listen to you if you confide in him.

Zhongli takes one last gulp of his tea. He embraces the crushing pain in his heart and clasp your hand tightly.

You stutter and choke out some incomplete sentences in the process, words tying into knots, but it’s okay. There’s no need for you to rush, they have all the time and undivided attention for you to tell them whatever you want.

Your right hand feels like it’s about to be crushed, somehow. You glance over to the side and is met with another pair of amber eyes.

Glossy eyes filled with uncertainty, concern and shock. His mouth gaped open, unable to find words, so he chooses to hear instead of responding.

The way you described your journey in Snezhnaya feels lonely to him. Xiao is no stranger to the feeling of solitude, but your gaze feels far, far more lonelier than what Xiao has ever been through. He watched as unfathomable emotions swirl in your eyes, your gaze shifting every so often in trying to find the right words.

A part of him thinks that, perhaps he should’ve sought for you, or even just send a single letter millennia ago instead of pathetically dreaming in the Wangshu inn, then perhaps you wouldn’t have to always feel like you're all alone without anyone to rely on.

Xiao holds your other hand tightly. He doesn’t know how to show affection, but he hopes that this reassures you that you’re no longer alone.

Your lone narrative went on for minutes, then hours, until you lost track of time. You then mutter the last few sentences.

“I lost my powers, I don’t feel qualified to be an adeptus anymore, I-“ this part is harder to say than anything else. “I don’t know why I’m here, or anywhere anymore.”

“I feel like I…lost my purpose.” First was your abandonment from Zhongli, the bane of your misfortune. Then was the Tsarista, the one who broke you more than anything else. You feel lost in life, wandering without a purpose.

“I’m just a… nobody.”

Slam. The sudden impact on the table made you jump. You look up at Xiao who suddenly stood up and slammed his fists on the table with brute force.

His frown is deep, eyes burning with fury and looking at you with disbelief. He is livid.

“Don’t you dare say that one more time.”

Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and tilt your head a bit. At first you thought he’s mad at the fact that you willingly let your powers be taken away from you, but that doesn’t seem to what he’s mad at.

“You are not worthless, not a nobody. I won’t forgive you even if you say that one more time, even if you said it yourself.”

Xiao clenches his fist tightly, glaring at you. He rarely gets mad at you, it makes you feel a bit guilty.

“Xiao’s right.” Ganyu joins in, her palms squeezing your arms with force making you turn to her. “Please do not say that, ever again. You mean everything to us, how could you- how could you say you’re worth nothing?”

Ganyu has a sorrowful look instead. You don’t know how to respond to them, you can’t figure out whether the present incompetent you means everything to them, or the you they once knew and adored.

You think of the latter one. After all, there’s nothing much on you that is actually worth something.

Zhongli seems to know what you’re thinking, as he slowly opens his mouth. “My child.”

“Nothing changes the fact that you’re an adeptus, one of us, with or without your adeptal powers.”

“No matter the past, present or future you, will always be the one we love.” His gaze firm and solemn, trying hard to convey his feelings to you.

“You don’t have to be perfect, it’s okay to be incomplete.” Zhongli stands up and treads towards you.

He stops next to you, bending down a bit before enveloping you into a tight hug. You stiffen up.

“Because no matter what, you are you, and nothing will ever change that. And the fact that we love you will always be true.”

Hic. You let out ugly voices from your throat, breaking into a ugly sob and staggered breathing.

The warmth warping you increases, with Ganyu and Xiao joining.

Zhongli soothes you by brushing your back softly, Ganyu patting your head and lightly ruffles your hair. Xiao appears to be quite awkward at first, but decides to rest your head on his chest and warp his arms around your head as you sob.

It’s so warm, so warm that it feels unreal. Words of affirmation and love is such a stranger to you, the words and actions they display makes your chest hurts.

Your heart tugs at you, but you know it’s not because you’re sad, it’s because you feel relieved, happy, and thankful.

You are loved. Even if you don’t realise it.

Love is not determined by how much one spends time with each other, nor will it diminish with time or distance.

Forgive does not mean forgetting. The past cannot be reverted. The resentful decisions Zhongli has made in the past remain embedded in history and cannot be undone.

However, it does not mean that relationships cannot be rebuilt. A step at a time, as long as you’re willing to, as long as you are here and with them, things can start over.

[previous] [next]

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

GOJO SATORU || BECOME A REAL COUPLE

| featuring : gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors other than that n/a

| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)

| word count : 2700

| published : 05 december

| request : Hi hiiii!! I saw that your requests were open again :) I would like to order a black coffee please! a fake dating → feelings realisation where (fem) reader is from one of the big 3 clans and is pressured into finding a SO by her clan. So Gojo offers to fake date her; meeting her parents etc. Only for them both to realise that they ended up falling for each other. Would love to see how you determine the way they handle it and confess for real. Thank you!! Love all your work so far x

| barista’s notes : can i be completely honest with you? this little piece isn’t really my best ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ even though it’s only been 2 days but i already feel like my writing skills have disappeared ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but other than that, thank you so much for loving all my work ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ i really hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come again soon!

“You have to get married soon Y/N! You’re 27 and we have no heir for the Kamo clan!”

“Didn’t I leave the clan 10 years ago? There is no way I’m going to listen to someone like you nor my child is forced to become a jujutsu sorcerer, and what makes this more irritating is that you came all the way to my workplace to tell me this,” you snapped back at the man in front of you, before turning around trying to walk away from the situation. However, it seemed like the old man wasn’t going to give in to the situation or to the rejection of your answer, he was stubborn - just like you were, after all, that was the only thing you inherited from that man.

“Y/N! I am your father and I demand you to listen to me!”

“Shut up!” you shouted before turning to look over your shoulder. The man that stood there pride and arrogance running through his veins - something that you didn’t inherit, fortunately. There was no way you could call this man your father. The same ‘father’ that criticized you for not having the same blood manipulation like the rest of the family - well that’s what he gets for being with a woman from a different clan that had a different curse technique that you inherited - an outcast, that was what you were within the Kamo clan, yet they still demanded you to get married and have a child to keep the lineage going. There was no way in hell you were going to follow their rules.

“What a disgusting father you are, no wonder mother left you,” you commented with a smirk before continuing to walk away to go back to where you were heading. On the other hand, it seemed like someone else wanted to disturb your plans.

“Y/N~”

ꕥ

At this current moment in time, you were standing in front of one of the very few vending machines that were located within Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College wondering what you were going to choose since you were still undecided. Cold Water? Milk tea? Coffee? Maybe a carbonated fruit drink to satisfy your sweet tooth? You weren’t so sure.

“Have you put money in the machine yet honey~?” someone asked you from behind, causing you to quickly turn around to see a tall white-haired figure standing before you with a teasing smile painted upon his face.

“Satoru? Ah...no I haven’t” you muttered as you scratched your cheek with your finger, trying to occupy yourself with something to not look at him. “Let me pay for you then,” Gojo then offered as he reached over to the side, accidentally brushing his arm - causing you to tense up - before he placed some of his coins within the slot to add some currency into the machine before you could even deny his offer.

“I could pay for myself you know, and we’re alone, you don’t have to act,” you stated before sighing in defeat, as you turned back around to decide what you were going to choose once again. “I know,” Gojo commented back to you before gently placing his chin upon your shoulder, leading you to tense up once again from the physical contact before slowing relaxing, “but what type of boyfriend would be I if I didn’t treat you a little?”.

‘Well fake boyfriend Satoru’

ꕥ

“Your family pressuring you again?” Satoru cheerfully asked as he walked beside you, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere from the conversation that you had with your ‘father’ just a few seconds ago.

“More like the Kamo clan than the L/N clan, get married this, get married that. Is that all I am good for? Marriage? Augh, I just need them to leave me alone, I left for a damn reason,” you ranted as you put your hands in your pockets, restraining yourself from punching something to let out some steam.

“How about I date you then?” Gojo suddenly asked, leading you to look at him with the most wide-eyed expression like he had just said something completely stupid - to which he did - but before you could even augre what he just stated, Gojo quickly began to explain what he meant by his little statement. “What I mean is let’s fake that we’re dating, we deceive everyone that we’re together and the Kamo clan will finally leave you alone once they realise that you are in a relationship with someone from the Gojo clan aka me, they can’t augre with that,”.

Still looking at your colleague with a dumbfounded expression, you turned your head to look in front of you before thinking about what he had just suggested. What Gojo stated to you was somewhat a clever idea. The Kamos family was obsessed with bloodlines and for you to be with Gojo means that they would foolishly believe they can become more powerful. Even though you didn’t physically inherit the blood manipulation curse technique, you still had in somewhere in your veins due to your father meaning they would believe they still have a chance for a powerful heir. However, that would mean you have to announce this to the clan as well as your mother’s clan - which wasn’t much of an issue for her side - it was just too much effort for a fake relationship.

“Satoru that is so much effort, you’re going to have to meet the Kamo clan then,” you commented, after realising the pros and cons of this little ordeal. “I know, but once we end this little fakery of a relationship, they don’t have to know, you don’t have to report your every move to them, remember you left,” Gojo explained back, leading to any worries that you had manifesting to instantly fade away with the wind.

Taking one last sigh, you turned back to him and nodded. “Fine, let’s fake date Satoru,” you finally declared before taking your hand out in front of him for a handshake, leading to the powerful shaman to take hold of your hand before firmly shaking it, “okay fake-girlfriend! Leave it to me,”

ꕥ

Sitting in front of your dad across a table was something you never wished on your worst enemy, you hated that you were back in the four walls that you had escaped from many years ago. However, for some odd reason, when Gojo was by your side, you felt completely safe.

“Since when did this little association between the both of you come to play?” your father asked in a suspicious tone as he eyed both you and Gojo - yet, knowing how greedy your father was for power, you could tell he was delighted at the fact you were ‘together’ with the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer.

“Ah~ We have been together since our last year at Jujutsu Tech,” Gojo explained as he turned to look at you with a cheeky smile on his face to which you smiled back at him, trying to keep up with the facade of being a fake couple. “And you didn’t inform me this Y/N?” your father then asked to which then you explained, “well, I did leave the clan a year after that, so I had the right to no inform you. After all, I’m not your daughter like you stated beforehand,”

Angered by your sudden statement, your father immediately slammed his hand on the desk as if the statement wasn’t true at all. “I demanded you to come back, I demanded you to respect the name of the Kamo Clan and this is how you taint it,” you father roared in fury, causing Gojo to put an arm out in front of you as if he was protecting you from anything that could happen to cause you to look at him in shock.

“Technically, Y/N didn’t even taint your name, she took their mother’s, so you’re in the wrong here, don’t do something that you will regret,” Gojo sinisterly threatened the man that was in front of both on you, before taking your hand in his as a way to comfort you - surprising you once again from his actions, yet for some reason, you gripped on his hand somewhat conveying him that you were thankful for him standing up for you.

ꕥ

“Ah Miss Y/N, did you come to see your mother?” a maid asked in a surprised tone, once she noticed that you came out of your designated room with you adjusting your red obi sash around your waist as your wore your family’s kimono, white was light in colour embroidered with the minimalist design of flowers and butterflies - giving you a somewhat soft feminine look, contrasting the portrayal of your character somewhat.

“You know you don’t have to put the ‘Miss’ in front of my name, and I do apologise for the sudden visit, I forgot to inform you all,” you told the maid with a gentle smile, leading to the maid to smile at you back before you then continued with, “Ah, I did come to meet my mother, but have you seen Satoru? Like a tall man with white hair, who is also wearing sunglasses,”. However, before the maid could answer your question.

“Y/N~”

Turning around, you found Gojo walking towards you with your mother by his side, causing you to freeze in shock as you didn’t expect him to go to your mother without you. “I thought we agreed to greet my mother together Satoru,” you commented as you pointed your index finger at him to emphasise your point, only for him to smile at you cheekily before scanning his eyes up and down at your new outfit. “You do look beautiful in your kimono though, is this what you wear when you come back home?” Gojo then asked, to which you nodded at his question - trying to ignore your pending blush being slowly painted in your cheeks - before you quickly greeted your mother, who was watching from the sideline.

“Good Afternoon mom, I apologise for coming to visit you so suddenly,” you said to her, to which your mother softly smiled at you before cupping your cheeks in her hands. “There is no need to apologise, I’m happy that you came back home since you are so busy back at the school, but also I’m happy that your boyfriend introduced himself to me, he is quite a different character must I say,” she commented with a light laugh, causing you to turn to him wondering what he had said to her, only for him to put up a peace sign as if that would answer your wondering thoughts. Although, before you could even vocalise your confusion, your mother linked her arms with yours before guiding you down the corridor to welcome you home.

“I can tell he really cares about you Y/N,” your mother stated, causing you to look at her with a perplexed expression to which she then smiled back at you before beckoning Gojo to follow the both of you to invite him for some sweets and tea that were being prepared.

‘If only you knew mom, if you only knew how much I care about him as well even though this isn’t real’

ꕥ

“You’ve been staring at the canned latte for some time, do you want that one?”

Suddenly, you instantly snapped out of your thoughts - not realising that you were in a daze - causing you to then immediately click on the button indicating on the mentioned drink. “Ah, sorry I was just wondering if I should go with the strong or light one,” you then answered, trying to hide the fact you were looking back on the moments that you had with Gojo.

“Are you okay?” Gojo then asked as he removed his chin from your shoulder, letting you crouch down to grab the coffee from the dispenser before collecting the coins from the other dispenser to give back to Gojo, only for him to shake his hand and say, “if you need another drink, you can use it,”

‘Is that why he put extra in?’

“Are you sure?” you quietly ask, only for the cheeky shaman to nod his head before he deciding to walk with you to wherever you were heading off too. “Like I said before, what type of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t spoil you a bit?” Gojo then asked once again, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

“You know we’re not really dating right? We are a fake couple,” you mentioned, as you opened the can of coffee to take a sip after reminding him about the little plan that the both of you came up with to avoid the whole ‘marriage’ drama from the Kamo clan.

However, you didn’t hear an answer from your friend. Only pure silence surrounded the both of you, causing you to be perplexed on why you didn’t instantly hear a sassy comment back from the shaman, leading you to pause and turn your head to the side, only to see the man look at you dead in the eyes with his crystal blue ones.

‘Since when did he?’

“What if I don’t wanna be a fake boyfriend anymore?” Gojo questioned you with an uncharacteristic serious tone, causing you to look at him in bewilderment before quickly coming to the conclusion that he was probably teasing you.

“You mean you want to end this facade? If you want we can, there is kind of no point in continuing this little act,” you replied, as you took a sip of the caffeinated drink causing you to gain a little bit of energy in a short amount of time.

“Y/N, I’m being serious, I don’t want to be your fake-boyfriend anymore, I want this to be real,” Gojo then declared, causing you to suddenly choke on the liquid in shock before letting out a coughing fit as you tried to clear your throat leading to Gojo patting your back to help you out.

“Ha?” you then expressed, not sure on how to react to his declaration as you tried to look for any deception in his eyes. “Oh you are being serious Satoru,” you then commented to which then he nodded as if he didn’t already convince you that he hadn’t already.

Quickly looking away from the man, you were trying to hide the rose hues that slowly was coming upon your face. You thought you were the only one feeling this way. You thought you were alone on this. Ever since that moment when you and Gojo met your father, you always wanted to stay by his side, you felt like you were important, you felt safe, you felt warm.

It was like what your mother explained to you when you were young, ‘don’t make the same mistake as me Y/N, when you find someone you want to be with, make sure they make you feel safe and protect and not just the ‘butterflies in your stomach feeling’, I want you to feel loved and important, I’m so sorry for putting you through this’

“Y/N, come on say something, I’m not a nervous guy but this is something else you know,” Gojo pleaded as he wasn’t really enjoying the long silence that was going on around both you and him, only for you to suddenly grip his dark blue jacket before pulling him closer to press your face upon his chest as if you were still trying to hide but somewhat trying to express some confidence in what you were planning to do.

“Are you absolutely being serious ?” you then asked, once again asking how serious he was being.

“Absolutely serious,” Gojo then replied as he placed his large hand on the top of your head before caressing your hair, trying to comfort you from your embarrassment.

“Then I don’t wanna be your fake girlfriend anymore….please,” you then murmured as you gripped his jacket more tightly as you confessed your long time thoughts, only to suddenly feel a peck being placed on the crown of your head.

“Of course honey~ let’s become a real couple”

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