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dior-luxury · 7 months

Note

Hi! Can I ask for part two for the ask "a new person came to NRC and catches the eyes of Y/n and makes the characters get jealous" with Jade, Idia, Vil and Malleus

A New Person Catches Their S/O Attention ! !

Part 1 ~

Note: Back in the role of things~ This post was so late I am so sorry 〒▽〒 . . . BUT- I hope you guys enjoy reading this! <3

CHARACTERS: Jade , Idia , Vil , & Malleus .

TW: Mentions of making out [Malleus] . possessiveness . (non-specified pronouns for reader~) . [If you find anything else dm/send me a chat!]

Jade Leech :

He of course hates it. The feeling of the tightness in one's chest, the need for peace to be resolved. The utter feelings of jealousy are not a foreign one of his. Seeing your beautiful eyes wander away from him- and onto a brand new specimen.

Jade views this as competition, he aches for this new student to be gone. It gets even worse if he were to see you two talking. Though this whole ideal is frustrating... he can't help but chuckle. So this is the familiar jealousy that is seen in all of those teen dramas? Hilarious.

Jade seriously can't forgive himself for being this weak, but for you, he'll keep wearing a smile while you and the new student talk.

It was exactly when period 2 was going to end. You and the new kid were talking to each other since you both had a project for ELA that you both had to make up. As you both were getting ready to leave the classroom, you were then stopped as you noticed Jade walking inside the classroom.

He had a nice smile as he walked to you and the new kid. Jade then stood looking directly at the student with jealous eyes. "Hello, I'm Jade Leech. I have come to inform you that you'll no longer be working with Y/N-san." The students' face morph into confusion and annoyance.

"What do you exactly mean-... Jade-Senpai?" The students' questions with a dramatic sigh at the end. Jade's eyes then narrow as he looks down at the student, partly figuring out what to say as his excuse for this students’ persistence. Jade exhales dramatically as he continues to show this new student that he's not a spineless person.

"Trein-Sensei has made a mistake with the partner arrangements... Yes, I know he said them himself but we all make mistakes. It's proven. See? These are the list of names that he was reading off when he announced the partners." Jade says in a fake disappointed tone as he holds up a piece of paper in front of you and the new student.

Jade chuckles inside as he looks at the students' shocked and embarrassed face. And then watches as the student grabs his stuff and goes to look for his partner instead. You look at Jade confused, but not surprised. He chuckles evilly to himself as he smiles, "Now then- shall we go to your dorm to start our project, Y/N-Chan?"

Idia Shroud :

This introvert feels nothing but ick. He stares at the new student with disgust and jealousy. It's too embarrassing to go through this! Idia can't help but want to go up to his newly found rival and tell him to find his own waifu.

But of course, Idia is an introvert and curses himself for this. Especially for times like this. While you and the new student are talking, he's too busy making a plan for your attention to get off of the new student. Oh, how he just wishes that you weren't the main character.

He's lost in his own thoughts of jealousy and envy. Trying to make it not so obvious that he's staring daggers at the unknowing student. Comparing this whole scenario to one in an anime. Idia then gets an idea and grins evilly.

But then later as you and the new student are hanging out at lunch, in the corner of your eye you see Idia nervously walking towards the both of you. The student notices you staring at something and frowns. Idia then stands next to you and fidgets with his fingers.

"Y/N-Shi... D-Do you want to play this new game with me?..." Idia voices quietly, but enough for you to hear. You chuckle to yourself as you then nod. Meanwhile the new student pouts, "Y/N-Senpai...~ Aren't we supposed to study for Crewel-Sensei's new test together?"

The new student voices as they then pout while looking at you. Idia is taken aback and annoyed, did you not tell this new student that you two were dating? He's on the brink of his hair turning orange here. Idia groans and mutters to himself, "Seriously?..."

It seems like they both want your attention.

You then sigh and look at the new student, tired. "Sorry about this '(Student)'-kun, but we'll have to push our study sesh' later, okay? I barely get to hang out with my boyfriend anymore. You understand it right?"

Both Idia and the new students' eyes were surprised at your sudden bold move of calling Idia your boyfriend. Idia slightly smiles to himself as he looks at you lovingly in his burning yellow eyes. Finally feeling like he won the battle of being jealous.

The new student sighs disappointingly as he then backs off, looking at the table in defeat. Idia then puts his sleeves over his mouth as he looks at you, "You didn't have to go all out you know... you hurt the guys' ego." He mutters to you, ending with a chuckle at the end.

You shrug as you whisper to him, "It was going to happen either way," You say bluntly as Idia can't help but try to contain his smile after your display of bluntness. "Now what game was it that you wanted us to play together?" You then announce.

Vil Schoenheit :

Jealousy... What an ugly emotion. Vil knows the feeling and the description of jealousy all too well. It's one of his most common emotions in fact. He had feuds all of his life. Whether that'll be with a co-worker, fellow students, film directors, or even a certain someone.

Vil though is extremely blunt with his own jealousy. His mind is basically planning to make everyone in the whole room know that he is jealous. Though he can't exactly blame you for being interested in a new person, that's how he met you after all.

But it's just this new student that strikes a nerve with him. The way that you two look at each other... the way that the student looks at you... it's annoying. Vil feels too embarrassed to talk about this to anyone, except to anyone but Rook.

Vil rants on and on about this newfound drama about you and this new student during his one-on-one time with Rook in every Alchemy class. Telling Rook that this new student is stealing you away from him explaining everything dramatically.

"Roi du Poison... I never saw you so stressed before that time at the VDC. You need to calm down before you get wrinkles." Rook then explains to Vil, but it is to no avail because Vil is on his last straw. It has been only 3 days and Vil was already putting that new student on his watch-list.

"I have no idea what to do Rook, Y/N hasn't even complimented me on my new choice of makeup today. That new student is taking all of their attention away from me." Vil glares at Rook as he tightens his hand around the bottle of chemicals that he is holding.

"How is it fair that Y/N finds that new student more interesting than me? They're plain. Their hair, fashion, and don't even get me started on the monstrosity that they call their own makeup." Vil complains with his eyes full of rage, not even realizing how hard he is holding onto the bottle of chemicals.

Rook's eyes widen at the sudden interruption of Vil's thoughts, as his face shifts into worry. "Vil, please. I think you might be overthinking this." Vil then glares at Rook as he takes the bottle of chemicals away from his gloved hands. But it's just then that Vil suddenly gets an idea.

"That's it... I'll have to get Y/N to ignore that new student! Putting a simple spell on that new student- haha~ This is the best idea I've had in a while~~" Vil laughs to himself as Rook looks at him, confused and not surprised.

"Roi du Poison, I know you think this is a good idea to talk about this- but our classwork may be more important right now. We wouldn't want it exploding would we?" Rook sighs as he then smiles at Vil and puts his hands on his hips.

"Now if you could please, Roi du Poison- hand over the vial on the shelf so this potion doesn't explode everywhere. Ruining your hair and makeup." And with a swift motion- Vil then rushes gracefully and grabs the vile.

Malleus Draconia :

The one and only most possessive dragon that there is at NRC. He would have never known about this new student, but since he is a Dormleader Lilia has told him about it during lounge hours. It intrigued him, a new student? In the middle of a school year? He never knew that late registrations were a thing at NRC.

He smiled to himself as he asked for details from Lilia, wondering if this new student was going to be in his dorm. To which Lilia responded by saying that they weren't, and instead they were going to be in Ramshackles'.

His eyes widened in surprise as he wondered if you already met this student. Malleus then went back to drinking his tea as he walked to his dorm room. Moments later when Malleus was minding his own business reading a book in his chair by a window, Sebek suddenly burst through the door.

Malleus glances at Sebek from his book, slightly annoyed, and speaks up. "What is it, Sebek?" He says calmly, furrowing his brows at Sebek's scared face. Sebek tries to catch his breath as he puts his hands on his knees. "Young Master! I have some bad news!" Sebek shouted as loud as thunder, causing crows to leave their trees.

Malleus raises one of his eyebrows as he then shuts his book, placing it on his lap. "What is it, Sebek? I trust that it is something urgent this time. Otherwise, you'll have to report this to Lilia." As Malleus's eyes drift back to opening his book, Sebek then suddenly yells very loudly.

"Young Master! I have come to inform you that your... partner- Y/N has found interest in someone else! This is urgent!" Malleus' eyes are suddenly shot open by this bold statement, but before he can say anything he is interrupted by his own thoughts about whether Sebek was truly telling the truth.

"If you pardon me, Sebek," Malleus said as he closed his eyes, getting up from his chair and walking out of his room, and downstairs to the entrance of Diasomnia.

It was then exactly 9 p.m. You and the new student were studying in the lounge area when you both suddenly heard a knock. You then get up from your seat on the couch as you walk to the door. The new student watched the door open cautiously from his seat.

Once you open the door you see a disappointed Malleus, he frowns at you as he looks over to the open door to the lounge. His eyes widen as he glares at the new student then changes his stare back to you. "Child of man... If I may ask, are you cheating on me?" Malleus' normal face slowly turns back into a frown as he looks at you.

"Huh? No, of course not." You say bluntly as you look up at Malleus and smile. Even though Malleus wasn't buying it so much, he could tell you weren't doing anything like cheating based on your voice. Malleus then sighs and retreats his gloomy and slightly angered attitude.

"That's good to hear... I was afraid for once that Sebek was saying something true." Malleus then slightly smiles and laughs to himself. The new student looks over at the two of you confused, "Y/N?? Are you good?" You look back at the new student as you then turn to Malleus.

"Think that's my cue. I'll send you a letter later, okay?" You rush as you then wave and try to close the door. But instead, Malleus then holds the door open. "Malleus?" You question with your head tilted as you get interrupted suddenly by a fast grab at your hand. Before you could even say anything you felt Malleus press his lips against yours.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst fanfic #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia imagine #malleus draconia headcanons #malleus draconia x reader #idia shroud x reader #jade leech x reader

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dxxdhood · 2 months

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show off

pairing: dick grayson x gn!reader

summary: after dick tries his hardest to get your attention, you finally give it to him.

tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering (m receiving), oral (m receiving), light bondage, hair pulling, body worship

wc: 2.2k

a/n: hey! sorry for disappearing! i don't have an ao3-author-almost-dying-excuse but i hope this fic makes up for it!

What made Dick Grayson so hot was that he knew he was hot. He was always walking around with an annoying amount of confidence that he managed to pull off anyway. Blame it on him being the poster child for a Good Samaritan or his relentless integrity– the guy was impossible to hate no matter how big his head got.

Luckily, you’ve lucked out as his official, number one supporter. Ever since becoming partners, you’ve gotten to spend more little moments together, even when life would ordinarily tear you apart. And of course it’s great! Dick’s arms around you as you try to catch up on some reading in the morning, forehead kisses even as you’re running out the door late for work– everything’s been adorable. But lately, you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Dick’s been stressed out, you can tell it in the set of his shoulders even if he’s been trying to hide it. The thing was, you’ve been super busy lately. Work and personal stuff kept piling up, and although you’re ashamed of it, you’ve ended up prioritizing other things instead of your relationship.

You told Dick that you were swamped with work and – as usual – he was nothing but understanding. But if dating Dick has taught you anything, it’s that he believes that being understanding means completely ignoring all his own wants. It’s very endearing, but you also feel like a giant asshole, especially as things finally start clearing up and he still keeps his distance.

Or well, at least it seems like he’s trying to keep his distance. That doesn’t explain him showing off for you.

Because that’s what he’s been doing! It started off when you came back from work one night to Dick, on his day off from patrols, cooking you an entire candlelit dinner. He was wearing a black button up with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His hair was also loose, messy like he’d just been on a run. Oh, and he must not have shaved that morning, because he has the slightest amount of stubble– he was trying to kill you was what he was doing.

Okay, he may have had plausible deniability during that night’s dinner, but that time you walked in on him working out was not subtle. As soon as you walked into the living room he switched to doing squats, the thin material of his gym shorts straining against his muscled thighs. After a couple seconds of you watching in awe, he had the nerve to turn around and smile at you all innocently, asking you how your day went.

And then there was what happened yesterday. Once again you walk into your living room (clearly a trigger for these events) and you’re met with Dick on the couch, shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants as he snores softly. His head was leaning against his shoulder at an uncomfortable angle, so you grab a small pillow and maneuver it under his neck to stop him from getting sore. Even asleep, you feel how strong he is as your hands trace the outline of his neck and shoulder muscles. You can spot so many moles littering his arms and chest. It’s a shame they’re usually covered.

It’s not like Dick doesn’t usually lounge around the house shirtless, but wearing nothing – and you’re sure it’s really nothing – but gray sweatpants all stretched out on the couch? At this point he’s not asking for you to do something, he’s begging for it.

So, today you text him to “get ready for a surprise tonight!” while he’s out on patrol. He responds back something like “????😍🥳😘!!!!!” while you start getting ready.

“Hey, I’m home!” he calls as he walks through your front door. “So what’s this big surprise I’ve been hearing about?”

“Welcome back,” you say, rushing from your bedroom to give him a kiss. He’s ready to break it off almost instantly, but you hold on for longer, placing your hands on his shoulders. Dick muffles a sound of surprise but he doesn’t pull away. After a second of not knowing what to do with his hands, he rests them around your waist and melts into the kiss.

You eventually pull back and Dick starts talking again, “Well, that was a nice surprise! Guess I’ll just–”

“Shut up!” You shout through a giggle. “Just wait a second, it’s in here.”

You grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom, which you’ve lit with scented candles. Also – and this may have been going a little far – you bought roses to adorn your bedside table (and to sprinkle petals on your bed, of course). On top of the freshly washed sheets, through the dim lighting, Dick spots some suspiciously red rope.

“Alright, I mean it this time, this is a nice surprise,” he says as he tries to fight against a smile. “But are you sure you’re okay to do this tonight? I don’t wanna worry you, and if you don’t have the time for–”

You grab both of his hands and pull him down so you’re both sitting on the side of the bed.

“Dick… It’s not my fault I’ve been busy lately, and I know that,” you take a deep breath. “But I’m so sorry I haven’t been spending enough time with you. I should’ve tried harder, you know, I should’ve done what you always do– find a way to pull through it.”

He raises one of his hands from where yours were covering his and is about to protest before you stop him, “Please don’t defend me, just let me say I’m an asshole for once.”

He exhales and relaxes back, placing his hands in yours again.

“So, let me make it up to you?” you ask, almost timidly in comparison to how solid the rest of your apology went.

As a response, Dick leans forward and hugs you so tight you think you may have crushed ribs (and you know Dick definitely has the strength to do it).

“Of course I’m not going to say no to that,” he chuckles, breaking the hug so he can stand up and start uncoiling the rope.

“Hold on,” you say as you come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head toward you, confusion clear on his face. “I was thinking that tonight I’d do the tying.”

And you’re infinitely grateful that Dick turned around, because now you can see his cute raised eyebrows and the sweet way he tries to look towards the floor. He lets out a small cough and politely hands you the rope.

“Sounds- sounds good.”

“Great!” you nestle a hand in his tousled hair and scratch at the back of his scalp. “Go take a shower, alright? When you’re back, I’ll be here and we’ll get started, okay?”

He nods, and you give a gentle tug of his hair, “Speak, baby.”

“Right, yeah! Good! It sounds really good,” He manages, walking to the bathroom quickly and wasting no time to get the shower started.

You giggle as you watch him exit. Dick was usually so suave and self-assured, it always threw you to see how nervous he got when he was under your thumb.

Preparing the last few things you needed, you lay on the bed, resting your head on your bent arm to watch Dick as he steps out of the bathroom. He didn’t even bother bringing a towel out with him, and you can see the drops of water run down his chest and abs before reaching his cock.

You give him less of a smirk and more of a fond smile as you walk up to him, reaching to cup the back of his neck and bring his face close to yours.

“Even now, when I already told you you’re going to get what you want, you’re still showing off for me.”

“What?” He shakes his head, eyes gleaming.

“Lay down for me, okay? You say, and even though he wants to hear you finish, he follows immediately.

Rope in hand, you crawl on the bed so you’re straddling him. The sight of him, all lean muscles and thick thighs, laid out for you makes your face heat up. You take a deep breath as you gesture for him to move his hands up, and you tie him to the headboard.

“You’ve been craving my attention so badly, haven’t you? Just wanted me to drop what I was doing and show you how much I love you?”

“What, no, I–”

You move your hands from his tied up wrists to grip his jaw so he faces you, “Don’t keep anything from me now. Just tell me the truth, I want to hear it.”

After fighting past a blush, Dick lets out a shuddering breath, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I– I wanted you to notice me.”

“How couldn’t I, baby?” You say as you move down his body, nipping at his neck and the strong muscles of his shoulders. “You always look so sexy, you always want me to look.”

You lick at one of his nipples and you can feel his body twitch.

“You know you’re so handsome, right? You’re so hot, sometimes I think about you at work and get so distracted I can’t get anything done.”

He lets out a sigh as you scratch your nails down his side, leaving lines of red before you grip at his raised biceps.

“You’re so kind, too,” You whisper before kissing him deeply, biting at his bottom lip. Your other hand leaves to get the lube and begins spreading some around his hole. Dick’s breathing grows more and more uneven, but you kiss along his jaw and let him relax before you slip your finger in.

He squirms a bit at first, and you run your other hand through his hair to comfort him as you prep him using your finger.

“You’re always so good, even when you don’t have to be– even when you have no reason to be. You see someone hurt, alone, and you help them– like it’s the most obvious thing to do.” You add another finger and Dick bites his lip at the stretch, trying not to breathe too heavily.

He starts gasping at every little thrust, sweat glistening at his brow and you angle your hand to reach that spot every time. Dick lets out a long groan, dipping his head to his collarbone before you pull him back up to look you in the eyes..

“You’re incredible, Dick. Such a gorgeous person inside and out.”

“Babe!” he cries, hiding his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, and you gently cup his face to coax him out of it.

“It’s true, sweetheart, and you don’t get to hear it enough. You’re so good, you’re my good boy.”

He moans at that, higher than usual and you add another finger while he’s distracted. His voice breaks in the middle of the sound, and you can feel his chest working double time to try and keep up with your thrusts.

“Shit– shit, holy shit!” He cries, and you card your hand through his hair one last time before you run it down the side of his neck and across his chest. You never stop your hand movements as you kiss down the column of his neck and his pecs, following each spot your hand touches with your mouth.

You lick down his abs and Dick whines, trying to hide his face again while also keeping one eye focused on you, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing to him. The hand tracing down his body reaches his hard cock, and you run a finger across the length of it, rubbing in the bead of precum.

You take a second to make sure you’re keeping your thrusts consistent with your fingers before you take his entire length in your mouth. Dick rocks his entire body back and forth, trying to stay calm for you, and you breathe through your nose for a moment, letting him rest on your tongue as you get ready to move.

You slide on his cock at the same time your fingers hit his prostate, trying your best to line up the two so his tip hits the back of your throat when your fingers thrust against him. Clearly, it’s working, because Dick moves constantly, blinking back tears or trying in vain to hold back sounds as you work him even quicker.

His breathing becomes labored, so you move a hand to work his cock as you slide up his body, kissing him and sliding your tongue in his mouth. As soon as he tastes himself on you, you can feel the vibrations of a moan. His cum coats your hand as you work him through his orgasm.

Once you break your mouth away from his, his voice comes out all airy, “Oh my God, Fuck! Where were you hiding all of that?”

“The mouth?” You choke out, talking about how you just sucked him off, “Or the… mouth?” You mean the dirty talk.

“The–” He shakes his head, having trouble with the motion while still being tied up. “Yeah!”

The two of you giggle as you untie him, and you both cuddle for a while before hopping in the bath.

#smut #dc smut #gn reader #dom reader #sub character #dc #dc comics #gn!reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #nightwing #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x gn!reader

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anticipatecrime · 10 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you wrote for Johnnie Guilbert? If so, I was gonna request Dating Headcannons for him :D !! ( Only if you’re comfortable, ofc! )

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨 | johnnie guilbert

a/n: yes i love him <3 take some little dating headcanons, (sorry its short)

•you either meet johnnie from my digital escape, which was a collabrative youtube channel with alternative people

•or he first sees you on omegle while streaming for the first time, shocked to see a punk person

•he gives you his instagram that day after talking with you for sometime and you start dming

•he was quite awkward and shy when you first started talking and calling on the phone, not used to this

•it took a long time of being friends with johnnie for him to ask you out, but you were okay with that because it was worth it

•after my digital escape you didn’t continue with having a social media presence other than instagram

•he never made it a thing to announce it to his viewers, he just kind of included you in videos, and people understood you were together

•at the start of your relationship, he never wanted to be touchy in public or do pda but the more he fell in love with you he didnt care about other peoples opinions

•he would definitely hold your hand, and kiss your cheek, but the rest was private

•would never admit it, but he was a hopeless romantic which means he would always be trying his best for you, and wanting to be near you

•when filming for his youtube or his friends, he would always invite you along, and it was beneficial for both of you, it helped his anxiety and it made you feel included

•he would deal with constant looks and sometimes laughter when he would go outside or go on omegle, but he would never let it get to him, just turning it into a joke

•but when people would comment on your looks, he’d be more harsher and protective

•after a long day of filming, he would collapse into your arms, and cuddle with you, saying he wishes he could just stay there forever

•you would totally go on late night walks or adventures with him to seven eleven

•date wise, he would always get creative and find stuff to do with you

•you both liked going to a different cafe every week or so, ordering something new and just enjoying your time together since you were both busy working most days

•but he still loved just watching netflix on the couch with you, having a night in

•eventually you found a show you both loved, and now you wait to watch it together every friday evening

•he wasn’t one for outside activities, but you encouraged him to go hiking and rock climbing with you and he began to like it.. other than being sweaty and the mosquitoes

•you guys would totally share music, make playlists for eachother and johnnie would eventually encourage you to start singing because your voice was one of his favourite sounds

•he would take you to his favourite bands concerts and gigs, and you would do the same, him loving all of the music you listen to

•as a tattoo artist, you would totally design tattoos for him, and find ideas for his merch line

•he was never one to take things super seriously, but when it came to your relationship, and thinking about the future, it was always thought through

•when you got a cat, he was googling everything to do with the breed, the best food it should eat, healthcare information, which may seem normal, but tell that to the 11 pages of cat research on your living room coffee table

•when you got your first apartment together, no longer having to be in the same space as his roommates, it was such a relief

•he would wait by the door, with your cat, longing for you to come home from the tattoo parlour, and when you did he would be all over you

•i dont care what anyone says, he would be so clingy, just loving your presence

•his love languages are definitely quality time and physical touch. acts of service is up there though

•he loved feeling appreciated

•he would be the sweetest and just the perfect person to be in a relationship with.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnieguilbert #johnnie guilbert headcanons #johnnie guilbert x reader #my digital escape #mydigitalescape #jake webber #yung scuff #anticipatecrime

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sometimesanalice · 22 days

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Make Me Your Masterpiece

Summary: Bob credits you for helping him to find his new hobby. And when he asks if he can you paint you, you find you quite like the idea of being his muse.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Female Reader

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: fluff, smut, and basically an ode to Lewis Pullman’s hands (mdni)

(Author’s Note: smutty fics are the new friendship bracelet, spread the word! Happy Birthday, Ames! 🎉 @laracrofted)

You’ve always had a thing for Bob’s hands.

They were one of the first things you noticed about him that day at the coffee shop almost a year ago now.

You’d been reaching for your iced vanilla cinnamon latte when a big hand had wrapped around it just a half of a second before you could grab it. Which you wouldn’t have minded admiring them for a moment under any other circumstances, but after an endless string of meetings you’d been in a dire need of a caffeine fix- and not the weak stuff that people brewed in your office’s communal coffee pot.

“I think that’s-” you’d started.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” the coffee thief backpedaled.

The next thing you knew you were looking into the prettiest pair of ocean blue eyes.

The two of you were startled out of the moment when the barista called out the next order as they’d set it on the counter.

By some kismet or fate, they had been a matching set. But instead of embroidered towels, it was his and hers coffee cups with your names written on them in a hasty scrawl.

Realization dawned over his features as he gave you a sheepish smile, “Think this one might belong to you, Miss.” He spun the coffee until he found the spot with your name. That little smile becoming a full grin as he’d said it aloud before passing the cup to you.

The hands had been good, the eyes had been great, but Bob’s smile directed at you had left you weak in the knees.

You’d been a goner right then and there.

And while you’d ended up almost ten minutes late to your next meeting, you’d also gone back to the office with his phone number written on a cardboard coffee sleeve that was tucked away safely in your purse and a date lined up later that week.

As it turned out fate had a name and it was Robert Floyd.

Barely twenty minutes into your first official date with Bob, his ears had turned a delightful shade of pink as his anxious fingers straightened the silverware on the white linen tablecloth of the Italian spot he’d taken you to. He’d fessed up and apologized as he came clean, telling you that he’d purposefully ordered the same coffee as you in hopes of getting to start up a conversation with the pretty girl who’d been standing in front of him in line.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, since you looked busy. But I didn’t want to miss my chance,” he’d confessed over candlelight.

He’d told you how he’d only been at the coffee shop because he’d recently returned from a deployment and was fighting the jetlag that came with adjusting to being back on Pacific Standard Time, and that he normally preferred tea but he needed something with a bit more to it to get him through the day.

Instead of getting up and taking the bottle of wine to-go as a consolation prize, like you would have if it had been anyone else, his genuine earnestness had charmed you instantly. And you’d settled on having a second date with him before the first one had even really started.

You only let him sweat it for about thirty seconds before you took pity on him. With a light fingertip, you traced along one of the veins on the back of his hand and simply asked, “So other than being a meet cute mastermind, what is it that you do for a living, Bob?”

It was the best first date you’d ever had.

For your second date with him, you’d bought tickets to a ‘Paint and Sip’ event at a buzzy new bistro in town your friend had told you about.

You weren’t an artist by any means, but during that dinner date his antsy fingers and expressive hands had clued you into how nervous he’d been. You’d found your eyes drifting to them on more than one occasion. Partly because they were so enticingly disproportionate to the rest of him, but also because you couldn’t look him directly in the eye for too long without feeling your face heating up.

You thought it would be a good way for the both of you to work past the getting-to-know-you jitters, something that would keep your hands and eyes occupied enough to relax a bit more and have fun together.

Although instead of the seascape class you’d thought you’d signed up for, you’d willingly paid $86+ tax to watch Bob’s lithe, long fingers delicately grip a paintbrush in a way you thought was going to make you lose your mind.

You’d spent the whole first hour trying and failing to mix the perfect shade of blue before giving up when you’d realized that the man next to you, in addition to having really great hands, was also very good at painting.

Bob had seemed surprised by that too because he’d kept flushing that wonderful shade of pink that had quickly become your new favorite color every time you complimented his piece.

He had steady, capable hands. But you were quickly learning that everything about Bob Floyd seemed that way. There was a quiet confidence about him. He didn’t shy away from the way he’d openly observed you, like you were a riddle he was enjoying learning to decode.

You’d never known a man to be so attentive until him.

Bob’s tongue was peeking out as he’d worked on adding some wispy clouds to the top of his piece. You weren’t even sure what step you’d technically stopped at before you’d given up to watch the visual feast of him painting instead. Only halfheartedly adding random bits to your canvas along the way to make sure it wasn’t totally blank by the end of the session.

You’d been so zoned out watching him create that it was like a slow-motion sequence in a horror movie. You’d reached out for your wine glass, lifting it to your lips to take a sip, it had only taken you a split second to realize it wasn’t the full-bodied red you’d ordered that was coating your tongue, but the murky, gritty paint water instead.

Mortified, you’d looked over just in time to see Bob’s empathetic wince. You’d been hoping to fly under the radar, but it had turned out that you’d had more than one set of eyes on you.

“And we officially have our first casualty of the evening, folks,” the instructor cheerily announced to the group, “The rest of you can breathe easy now!”

You wanted to be able to laugh at your own expense, but you’d groaned as you buried your face in your hands.

It was not the way you saw the night going. You wanted to be dazzling, you wanted that pivotal third date with him. But now you were the girl who drank paint water whose canvas looked like it had all the same efforts as an enthusiastic fourth grader.

Bob’s hands had gently wrapped around your wrists before he’d pulled them from your face. And then he’d leaned in close, taking your chin in his hand and kissed you squarely on the lips, his tongue dipping in and sliding against yours to taste the acrylic pigment from your surprised mouth.

“Huh,” he’d said, contemplatively. He’d pulled away only far enough to look into your eyes and give you a soft smile. “Celadon blue doesn’t taste like a Cabernet, go figure.”

He brushed a light kiss against your cheek as he’d passed you your wine glass so that you could rinse the paint water taste out of your mouth.

You couldn’t help but to still be a little embarrassed, but then you’d caught the way he’d shoot an unimpressed look at the instructor every time they passed by for the rest of the evening. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor when you had a Bob Floyd with a paintbrush and a cutting side eye.

You took him home with you that night and learned for yourself just how capable those hands of his were.

It was only later that you realized the exact shade of blue that you’d been trying so hard to capture earlier that night was the same color as the eyes that gazed down at you as Bob fucked you for the very first time.

There was no way you could have known that the ‘Paint and Sip’ date would have inspired him to pick up painting as a hobby.

First, he’d started taking classes at the Rec Center. His once a week classes later turned into him checking out books from the library. And then he’d turned his spare bedroom into a studio, as it has the best afternoon light in the Spanish style house he rents near the Naval base. He’d even bought a comfy chair for you to curl up in as he painted, a little nook of your own in his favorite space in his home. And steadily, the walls of both your apartment and his place fill up with all of his art.

You’d even had your favorite one professionally framed. The pretty landscape done in shades of soft greens that he gave to you for your birthday hangs in a place of honor above your bed. You like having that piece of Bob as one of the last things you see before you fall asleep and one of the first things you see in the morning on the rare occasion the two of you aren’t sharing a bed. You liked to imagine the hours he spent on it with the sunlight streaming through the open window as he lovingly and painstakingly created something just for you with his own two hands.

Although you did have to beg him to sign it for you. He claimed that since he does it for fun that there’s really no reason too, but you were adamant about it and he’d eventually caved and scrawled his name in the lower right-hand corner.

Now it’s become your personal mission to ensure that every Bob Floyd original has his signature on it when he gives his paintings out as gifts.

Everyone assumes that his art would be all straight lines and precise angles, but it’s your favorite moment when people get to see his abstract landscapes. He’d told you he spends so much time in the sky that he likes to paint what’s on the ground, the things he doesn’t get to see when he’s 50,000 feet in the air.

You could tell Bob was a little nervous when he first asked to paint you.

After almost a year with him, you’d think he’d know by now that you’d do anything for him. Not to mention, you were more than a little in love with the idea of being his muse.

“Are you saying you want to paint me like one of your French girls?” you’d teased with a grin, unable to resist the opportunity. You always did have a thing for men with perfectly floppy hair.

He’d tipped your chin up so that you were looking into his blue eyes- a color you were positive couldn’t be replicated- and stated, “No, I want to paint you like my girl.”

Which is how you’ve ended up naked on the floor of his living room.

You’d been surprised when you came downstairs to see that the furniture had all been pushed to the side to make space for the king-sized top sheet he’d laid out on the floor. You figured it must have been from some mismatched set he had stashed in his linen closet because you’d never seen it before and you spent more than enough time in his bed getting familiar with his sheets.

Bob was shirtless and wearing only a pair of loose-fitting and paint stained jeans that were hanging low on his hips as he worked on getting all of his brushes and paints set up.

You were pretty sure that Michelangelo himself wouldn’t be able to do proper justice to Bob’s body. He wasn’t as built as some of his friends on the Dagger Squad were, but there was an undeniable sturdy steadfastness to him. Those defined shoulders and arms often were the stars of your afternoon daydreams, since you got to admire his handsome face anytime your phone lit up.

He came and met you at the bottom of the stairs, giving you a low whistle, “Well, aren’t you as pretty as a picture in my shirt.”

“Oh,” you’d said, feigning surprise and toying with the hem, “So it is.” And then you’d slowly lifted it up and off of you, revealing more of your body to his artist’s eye.

You never felt as good about yourself as you did when you were naked in front of Bob. The color of his morning skies eyes would always darken to a deep shade of Prussian blue as he took in the curves of you. With him you always felt appreciated, wanted, desired.

His greedy hands came to grip your hips pulling you to him until you were pressed against him.

“Is this how you wanted me?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair.

Bob slipped his hand behind your neck and tugged you in for a heated kiss. “I always want you.”

You never knew true distraction until you’d felt Bob’s lips against yours all those months ago. You’d happily lose minutes, hours, days to them. The thing about Bob is that he never does anything halfway. If he’s kissing you, he’s doing it thoroughly until you’re out of breath.

The sound of the air conditioner kicking on and the light draft that it coasted over you reminded you that there were other plans on the agenda. And that the sooner he starts, then the sooner he finishes, and the sooner you can feel his lips on other parts of you.

“Where do you want me?”

“In my bed,” he murmured against your lips.

His name started as a laugh but turned into a sigh as he dropped a line of kisses down your neck, “I meant, like on the couch or on one of the chairs from the kitchen.”

Bob pulled away and peered deep into your eyes, “Darlin’, I wanted to paint you.” He trailed a teasing finger down your soft stomach. “If that’s alright with you.”

You thought you were just going to be his subject, but as it turns out he wanted you to be his canvas too.

You’re trying not to shiver as he meticulously coats your overheated skin with cool paint. Goosebumps follow in the wake of every delicate stroke he makes along your body.

His hair was curled over his forehead in a way that had your fingers aching to touch him. There was a slight furrow between his eyebrows as he concentrated on the deliberate lines and curves he painted on you. The paint smudge on his cheek only made him all the more attractive to you.

Bob had tucked a pillow beneath your head before he’d started, a gesture that you appreciated now because time had lost all meaning to you. You had no idea how long you’ve been lying there. You were pretty sure every inch of you had to be covered by now.

He’d started along the plane of your stomach and steadily worked his way out from there. Up your arms. Along your clavicle. Over your breasts and tops of your thighs. You didn’t miss the way he’d smirked when you arched into that soft to the touch paintbrush as it glided over your peaked nipple. Or the way he’d hummed pleased when you’d try to subtly rub your thighs together to relieve the need that had been building as you laid there.

Bob loves taking his time with you. In bed, he loved teasing you until you had tears in your eyes and were begging for his cock. And it became clear very quickly that this would be no different.

There was an electric thrum that was pulsing through your body with every dip and swirl and brushstroke. The muscles of your stomach jump involuntarily as the fine hairs of his paintbrush drift over your hypersensitive skin making you whimper.

He tsks, “Gotta stay still for me, pretty girl. I’m almost done, promise.”

You release a shaky sigh and nod, not trusting your voice to betray just how needy you were for him. Although the self-satisfied smile on his face told you everything you needed to know.

You try to control your breathing as he works on finishing, but your shallow breaths sounded loud in his living room. You love getting to watch him work normally, but the intense way he is looking at you- his eyes your favorite shade of Prussian blue now- is too much for your hummingbird heart.

Just as your skin was collecting layers of paint from his brush, the space between your thighs was steadily collecting your wetness. You were so desperate for him to touch you, the need made you want to crawl out of your skin.

You hear the sound of a watery swish and the clink of a brush against glass and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.

“God, look at you,” Bob breathes, reverently, “You’re so beautiful. This might be my best work ever.”

Instead of the paintbrush, you can feel the path of his flame blue gaze traveling over you as he takes in the art he’s made out of you.

You open your heavy eyes and see Bob wiping off his hands with a frayed towel.

“There she is,” he says, giving you a smile that makes your toes curl. You didn’t notice it sitting there with all his paints until he was reaching for it, his dad’s old film camera. He holds it loosely in front of him like a question, “Can I take a few just for me?”

The answer is easy, “Yes.”

You trusted Bob more than any other man you’d ever been with. He’s never once given you reason to doubt his words because his actions always spoke for themselves.

The guys you’d been with before had been boys, Bob Floyd was a man.

The tension between the two of you is thicker than the acrylic he’d been using earlier as he snaps photo after photo. You admire the way his muscles shift as he bends and angles himself to get the perfect images.

He stands over you, the lens pointed down at you, “Look at me.”

You can barely breathe. You feel yourself getting even wetter at the thought of seeing yourself through his eyes. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

“Bob”, you whine.

The camera clicks.

“I know,” he hums, “You’ve been so good for me.” He sinks to his knees between your legs and hooks a hand behind your knee, pulling it up so it’s propped on the floor. And then he does the other so that you’re sprawled open for him, just the way he likes you to be, “Just one more, darlin’.”

The heat in his eyes has dried up all the words in your mouth.

He trails a finger down the soft skin of your inner thigh and you gasp.

The sound of his camera reverberates in your head.

“You’ve made such a pretty mess,” he drawls, as he gently sets the camera on the floor next to you. “It’s a good thing I put something down. You’re damn near dripping.”

“Bob, please.” You arch towards him like a flower in the sun.

He settles between your thighs and pushes them apart further so that his broad shoulders fit between them. The paint is still drying on your skin, but neither one of you cares about that now.

“You were so perfect for me. I appreciate you staying so still.” He drops a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t worry, I know just how to thank you.”

Your body jolts at the first touch of his tongue on your clit. You can feel his smile against you, he knows exactly what he does to you.

Bob has always eaten you out like it’s what he was put on this earth to do.

Normally, he’s teasing you with gentle licks and tracing nonsensical shapes on your clit with his tongue until you’re a squirming mess for him. He knows your body so well, always building you up to the point where you’re breaths away from tipping over the edge and then pulls himself back before building you right back up again.

But tonight, there’s nothing playful about the way his mouth is working against you. His hot mouth is sealed to your clit. Bob hums in satisfaction with every keen and whine that he pulls out of you. He laves at you until you’re writhing underneath him, your thighs already shaking.

“Wanna paint you just like this,” he murmurs, sucking at the spot where your leg and hip meet. “But I don’t think you’d stay still long enough for me to finish.”

Bob dips down and gives you another long broad stroke of his tongue. He pulls back only long enough to spit on your cunt before diving right back in, chasing after his own taste on you.

Your hands are in his hair. Clutching at his shoulders. It’s taken him no time at all getting you to the point where you’re trembling and taut.

All the air leaves your lungs when he buries two large fingers into you. Your hips cant into his mouth on their own and he moans. Bob wraps an arm around your hips and presses down on your lower stomach to hold you in place.

You feel the paint smear beneath his warm palm. You were dying to see it. You hoped there was a handprint- his handprint- that disrupted all the lines and swirls of color that he’d decorated you with. Something that was distinctly him.

You were wearing his art and now you’re wearing him. The evidence of this moment in time on your skin.

His fingers and tongue weren’t enough.

You needed more.

“You cock, Bob, I need your cock,” you pant, tugging at his hair.

He meanly sucks your clit into his mouth in a way that has you crying out and jerking against him. You love it, you love him.

“God, I love it when you beg for me,” he licks into you again, “Sweetest sound in the world.”

Bob drops a sweet kiss on your clit, it’s a stark difference to the filthy way he’d been using his mouth on you. He rises to sit back on his knees between your parted legs.

He looks so good kneeling above you the way that he is. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess. That knot behind your bellybutton twists tighter because you did that to him.

He unzips his jeans and tugs them down low enough to pull his hard cock out.

It’s pretty enough to be featured in a gallery, you think to yourself, even in your desperate haze. It’s long, thick, perfect and yours.

Bob smirks when he notices you admiring him, pumping himself slowly a few times for your viewing pleasure.

The only time Bob Floyd was ever a show-off was when he was in bed.

He grabs your thighs and pulls them over top of his own, so that yours are draped over his obscenely, and then he thrusts easily into you.

You gasp at the sensation of being so full of him. It always takes you a minute to adjust to his cock, no matter how many times you’ve taken it now. His thumbs make little circles along your hipbones as your body relents and yields to the size of him.

“There you go,” he says, rocking into you, working you open, “Just needed this cock, didn’t you?”

You whimper your agreement. Your hips tilt into the pressure like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Wanting to show him how much you can take. You know you’ll never get enough of him.

He fucks into you at a reckless and unrelenting pace. You’re high off the feeling of seeing Bob like this, that you’re the one who gets to see him unreserved and uninhibited. He has your hips gripped so tightly, keeping you closer than close. And when you clench around him, you’re treated to a wrecked groan.

Your skin prickles with desire and the feeling of paint drying on you. His cock is hitting just the right spot inside of you and you know you won’t be able to hold off for much longer, not with the way he’s grinding against your aching clit.

Bob’s eyes glued to the spot where you two come together. You’re on full display for him. He watches the way you stretch and spread around him with every deep thrust with the same appreciative gaze that he admires his favorite artists.

It’s under his river blue gaze that your orgasm swiftly sweeps you away. And with your back arching and thighs quaking around his, you give yourself up to the endless current of it.

You know he’s close when his hips start to stutter.

Bob pulls out of you and wraps his large hand around his slick-shined cock and works himself with rough, purposeful strokes.

This time he paints you with himself, his come covering your stomach.

The only sound in the room is the two of you breathing hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob huffs, raggedly, taking in his handiwork, “You’re my masterpiece.”

You’re covered in paint and come, but you’ve never felt more beautiful than you do right now as he looks down at you in awe.

“Did you remember to sign your work this time?” you ask, out of breath but teasingly.

“I think I left my mark, darlin’,” he says, with well-earned smugness in his voice. You can’t help but giggle. He flops down next to you, throwing his arm over his eyes, “Goddamn.”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to look at yourself.

“Baby, I think you gave Jackson Pollock a run for his money.” You grin widely when he lets out an amused snort. “Wait, where’s your camera?”

He passes it to you, the fondness in his eyes makes your chest feel warm. You scooch in close to him and hold it up above your heads, the camera flashes when you kiss his flushed cheek.

That picture is the first one that gets put up in the new house, the one the two of you chose together when he asked you to marry him six months later. Followed by the soft green landscape that now hangs above your shared bed.

It’s your favorite picture of the two of you, happy and in love. You can just see a hint of the cloud he’d painted on your shoulder.

That night Bob had decorated your body with the place he loved best.

He gave you the sky and he made you his world.

Happy birthday, Ames! Your gift will be mailed eventually, it really was a lesson in chemistry, lol! Enjoy a Bob fic just for you in the meantime!

A big, bigggg thank you to the Bob Babes/Lew Crew girlies! @callsignspark and @attapullman I appreciate you two so much for being such ultimate hypegirls! And thank you to @theharddeck, you helped me out of my writers block and I've been so excited to write this since we talked about it back in January!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #robert bob floyd fic #bob x you #bob x reader

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heartofwritiing · 11 months

Text

His sweater

paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader (featuring cc!tommy and cc!tubbo)

summary: you and wilbur are in a private relationship and one day while you’re streaming chat recognizes the sweater you’re wearing.

authors note: I wrote this a while back when I was coming back into writing. I'm sorry if its not as good as my usual stuff. the reader is a small streamer but she's close with all the britsh ccs, (bc she lives in the uk) she and wilbur are dating and no one knows not even their friends! but some of them do suspect it! I thought it was cute not sure if it's been done before and I really enjoyed writing it!!

warnings: secret relationship, anxiety attack, fluff, not proofread, and unedited!

It was supposed to be a relaxed stream, chatting and hanging out before Wilbur got home. That’s what it started as. You logged onto Twitch around 7:40 or so, after hanging out with Tommy and the gang for the day.

Wilbur had gone to his office. He told you to head off without him and said he would be home in an hour or two after he finished editing. That was fine with you. You didn’t mind when he worked late since you didn’t go to bed until around midnight.

No one knew you and Wilbur were together. Like together, together. They thought you were close friends. Not even your friends knew you and sometimes hanging out with them was hard because you wanted to be all

It's not that you were embarrassed by each other. You wanted your privacy and time together to be yours and yours alone. You knew everyone in the group could be eccentric about romantic relationships. You knew deep down they would be happy for you but this was something you and Wilbur agreed to keep secret. For a while at least.

Only a few times have you let it slip when you were out with friends. Everyone knew you two were close so it wasn't that odd to see you being close.

Phill was the only one who knew what was going on. Because once he had caught Wilbur taking your hand in his while you walked side by side. You both completely forgot he was walking right behind you. Separating your hand from Wilbur's when Phill was giving you a knowing glance out of the corner of your eye. Wilbur felt you let go of his hand and he turned to you pouting.

Wilbur got the message completely, seeing Phil smirk back at him. Then, to make matters worse Tommy caught on to Phill being suspicious about something all day. Hence began the young blonde bugging him about what he was all smirking about all day.

Then there were times when you both streamed together. Whether it be at your house or even playing on the SMP, sometimes things would slip out on both your faults.

Like you’ll flirt with each other, or he’ll call you love, or darling. Small things that not everyone can catch onto. Everyone thinks you’re roleplaying anyways but you both know it's not. If you’re on stream you’ll hold your hands under the desk out of view of the webcam. Wilbur would caress your knuckles with his thumb, letting you know he was there. Or you’ll lay your heads on each other’s shoulders during late-night streams when you’re so tired. Little things like that, and of course chat goes nuts for it.

They think it’s adorable how close you guys are. You love it too. , some people ship you guys but you ignore it, not caring about what they think. It wasn’t anyone's business.

So here you were taking a sip of water from your bottle and as you read the chat a donation came up and it made you perk up.

“Alyssa thank you for the four months!” you read off the donation with a smile. It made you happy that people wanted to stick around with your channel and found it a safe community to fall back on. That was what you wished for.

Your chat was going slow as usual since only about 2,000 or so people were watching. You were comfortable in your little corner.

Your eyes skimmed through the incoming text on your monitor. You froze when you saw a particular statement about your attire.

User: Wait is that Wilbur's sweater?!

You didn’t dare say anything as you tried to shake it off but the comments kept coming in after that faster than before. Everyone seemed to recognize it since he often wore this one in videos.

You had forgotten Wilbur gave you his sweater sometime early in the night. It wasn’t cold in Brighton during the day, it was warm in the sun. The perfect weather for a band shirt and your favorite pair of comfy pants. But after sunset, you had gotten chilly and Wilbur had offered you his sweater.

You shivered as the chilly wind made goosebumps rise on your arms. You wished you had brought a jacket before going out. You forgot to check the weather and you didn’t think you’d be staying out all day. It was fine, you weren’t going to make a big deal out of it.

Wilbur, who is walking with Tommy glances in your direction. Noticing your shivering state with your arms crossed, you failed to warm yourself up.

Without hesitation, Wilbur pulls his yellow jumper over his head and jogs to catch up with you. Holding out his arm with the sweater all bunched up in his hand, he nudged you.

You turn to look at him. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the realization of why he was handing you his sweater. He had noticed you were chilly and your stomach grew butterflies.

"You're shivering. I don’t want you to catch a cold."

You felt warm inside. You never thought you’d find the typical romantic gestures appealing but then you met Wilbur. Who proved you wrong. He was always a gentleman. It made you fall in love with him more and more.

You take it gratefully and put it on. The bright yellow contrasted against y/h/c and somehow made your skin glow. It made you look happy somehow, but it could be the fact you were wearing your boyfriend's sweater. The smell of his cologne faintly lingers on it.

Wilbur blushed and felt a bit dizzy seeing you wearing his clothes sometimes, and now it was the same case. He thought you looked adorable and was glad he could help you be warmer.

“Thanks, Will,” you smiled.

You almost stood on your toes to kiss his cheek but stopped yourself short. You didn’t want the others to see. Wilbur didn’t care. He leaned right over and kissed your head quickly.

"Of course, darling."

You smiled at the memory of two hours ago as the chat was still spamming you with questions. You tried to ignore it so you booted up your saved game of Stardew Valley. Knowing everyone wanted an update on your farm.

As you played you would glance over to your other monitor and notice chat wasn’t letting up about the sweater. It was getting a bit on your nerves since chat was getting a little hectic and you wanted to have a normal stream. Suddenly you heard an alert for Discord on your computer and you perked up like a golden retriever.

“Oh hold on chat, I’m getting a message!” you say opening up Discord on the opposite screen, just in case. Hopefully, someone wants to join you for a game or chat with you for a while. You were optimistic about finding out.

You saw it was from Tubbo. You immediately got excited seeing a notification from one of your closest friends. Your eyes read his message carefully making your heart sink to your stomach.

Tubbo: Hey, Y/N I don’t mean to alarm you but you’re trending on Twitter. I think you should check it out.

Below his message was a link and you clicked on it hesitantly, assuming the worst you were bracing yourself for. Twitter opened up to reveal a whole thread of posts involving various screenshots. You sat in your desk chair with your messy hair and Wilbur's sweater clinging to your body.

You tried not to show too much emotion on your face while you scrolled. Knowing that all your now 4,000 viewers were watching you with every beat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as all this attention was starting to overwhelm you.

You typed back a reply to Tubbo.

This is bad, right?

You were trying so hard to keep it together, everyone was figuring out your secret. You didn’t want everyone to find out this way, especially not your friends. They deserve better.

No no no, they don’t know what they’re talking about and just ignore it.

Easier said than done tubs.

ik ik

I was watching your stream and I noticed chat being nosey and I could tell you were uncomfortable. Are you okay?

You moved your eyes back to the chat again. It was going even faster now. Your viewer count had gone up even more. Everyone was asking why you were being so quiet all of a sudden. You apologized to everyone before returning to your chat screen with Tubbo.

“I'm sorry guys just message my friend real quick.”

Yeah.

Listen y/n if it's true or not I’m happy for you either way.

I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

Don’t be. It’s not your fault.

Does anyone else in the group know?

Just me. And technically Ranboo but he hasn’t figured it out.

You giggled at that.

You were so enthralled talking with Tubbo that you didn’t even hear the front door open. Will was home, toeing off his shoes and hanging up his flat keys.

You typed to Tubbo that you were going to end the stream. Make up some excuse that you were too tired but you didn’t want to seem suspicious. That’s when Wilbur snuck up behind you and leaned down so that he could wrap his arms around your shoulders.

Chat went even crazy. Spelling his name in all caps. Chaos. Absolute chaos.

You instantly froze at the contact and stayed like that for a good solid couple of seconds in shock. The smirk on Wilbur's lips was still prominent, but what he did next stunned you more than you already were.

Wilbur leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek tenderly. His lips lingered on your skin. Burning. You always felt this way when he kissed you. It was sweet and brief. You could feel his breath across your skin when he pulled away. Like it wasn't a big deal that he simply kissed you in front of thousands of people. Looked up at your monitor and smirked when he saw your chat going ballistic.

“Oh are you streaming?” he asked. Of course, he knew you were streaming, and yes he did see the tag trending. Tubbo had messaged him as well and Wilbur thought now was the best time to reveal. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and he was yours. So he hatched a scheme in his head to surprise you by coming home while you were still streaming. So, you were in shock that your boyfriend had come in and kissed your cheek on camera. In front of your viewers.

You were a bit mad at him at the moment. Then you saw how cute he looked with his head resting on your shoulder as he watched the chaos issue from his work.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now huh darling?” he hummed into your ear softly.

It made you flustered when you felt his lips brush your ear.

“Now everyone knows you're mine.”

Your heart was beating a million miles per second. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You were so relieved and yet kinda annoyed with Wilbur at the same time for sneaking up on you. You wanted to swipe that cheeky grin off his face. He could be such a smart ass sometimes, but you love him for it.

Now would be a good time to end this. You thought as you cleared your throat and kept your eyes on the chat log.

"Well, that's enough for me tonight, goodnight.” You finally say quickly, coming out of your flustered state.

"Bye chat,” Wilbur waves.

As soon as the outro screen came on you logged out of Twitch. Immediately, you lay your face in your hands and began crying. Wilbur grew concerned.

"Y/N?" He spun your chair around to face him. He got down to his knees in front of you and placed his hands on your arms. Your heart was beating in your ears, pounding as the situation became too much. Hitting that end stream button brought a sense of relief now that you could finally take it all in. Everyone knew. There was no going back from this. You were so sure that you'd never get a break from the constant questions and judgment that come with being a content creator.

Besides you on the table, your phone was going off like crazy, vibrating and shaking with alerts. You lifted your head to stare at it in fright. Wilbur detected your uneasiness immediately and grabbed your phone to shut it off completely before turning his attention back to you.

He brings his hand up to tuck strands of your hair out of your face and behind your ears. You try your best to begin a breathing exercise to calm yourself down.

Inhale through the nose.

Exhale out of the mouth

Wilbur's touch begins to calm your racing mind and heart. His voice anchors you back to the surface of your deepest thoughts.

Breath. Just breathe.

“That's it, in and out."

When you finally get your breathing down to somewhat normal and you surpass a panic attack. Wilbur doesn't say anything. Just holding you until you’re ready.

“I'm sorry,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut in shame. Tears flow out again as Wilbur shushes you.

“Don’t be sorry, don't." He chastised.

“It was just a lot.” You sniffled.

“I know, but it's going to be okay, you know why?”

You shake your head from side to side.

“Because I love you so much, and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It’s you and me,” he reassured.

You smile tearfully. “I love you too.”

The rest of the night you are spent curled up next to Wilbur, your phones turned off to enjoy some time together away from the internet. The sudden sound of your PC exploding with the sound of the discord call ringtone has you groaning and pausing the movie you both were watching. You had forgotten to shut it down during the chaos. Wilbur goes over to your monitor to turn it off but sees it's Tommy calling. Reluctantly he answers and the room is filled with the teen's loud voice.

“Why didn't you guys tell me!” he shouted, his voice breaking up through the speakers due to his loudness.

“Hello to you too Tommy,” Wilbur spoke.

“Wilbur! I never thought you’d get any women!”

Wilbur glared over at you as you burst into laughter. It was clear that Tommy was surprised and happy for you both but he was also being his obnoxious self.

“Alright Im hanging up now,” Wilbur says.

“No, no!” he laughed. “Im genuinely really happy for you two,”

“Thanks, toms!” you shouted from your spot on the couch.

“Thank you Y/N!!” Tommy exclaims. ”See Wilbur, at least someone appreciates my remorseful attitude,”

Wilbur rolls his eyes and ends the call, shutting down your pc so no one else could bother you. You laughed as he made his way back over to you on the sofa so you could continue your movie. Wilbur was likely going to try and protect you from being bombarded by your friends too much if you decided tomorrow that you'd talk to everyone, You were nervous to face them but you would know that nothing was going to change that your friends supported you.

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt x reader #fluff #mcyt imagine #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur x reader #cc x reader

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florencemtrash · 4 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Gwyn says hi by the way.”

Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found.

Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.

“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began.

“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.”

Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”

Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.

“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually.

“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”

Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.”

There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him.

Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together.

“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”

A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him.

He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him.

That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.”

“I don’t.”

“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”

She grimaced. “I came close.”

He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard.

“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy.

It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose.

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.

Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.

She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.”

Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you.

You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves.

“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.

You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before.

Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.

But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth �� until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away.

But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying.

You shoved against that power now.

“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.”

He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood.

It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him.

Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound.

You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody.

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent.

Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero.

Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again.

You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.

Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded.

“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.”

“I can go for longer,” you pleaded.

“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.

Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—

Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.”

You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”

“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.”

Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath.

You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow.

But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.

You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least.

The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.

Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony.

No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.

~ Helion

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.”

You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object.

When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown.

The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled.

If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky.

You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.

You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire.

What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert?

Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out.

It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety.

Azriel.

You couldn’t help but think of him.

Azriel was nothing like that.

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.

No. Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist.

She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you.

Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.”

You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom.

You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you.

He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home.

“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you.

He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity.

“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.

You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.

Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.”

You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.”

The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that.

Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent”

“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness.

He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.

He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight.

Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge.

It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight.

“Like who?”

“Cassian.”

You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth.

Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day.

Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it.

“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.”

Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”

His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.

“And? Are they alright?”

He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home.

He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”

You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself.

“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”

Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.

“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?”

“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.

“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.”

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching.

You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger.

“How are things going? With the book?”

You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch.

“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.”

But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you.

Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”

“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch.

Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real.

But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks.

“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”

“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick.

You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily.

Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch.

“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop.

“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.

“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows.

Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed.

Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing.

“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.

Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another.

Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes.

Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.

Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.

Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.

#azriel x reader #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #everyone deserves a person who'll help them relax enough to fall asleep #late night conversations and barely there touches and longing and asdfbaefnaks #AZRIEL FREAKING MADE HER NEW ROBES SO SHE WOULD FEEL MORE COMFORTABLE #He's trying to grow and do right by his exes so he will feel more worthy of Y/n and I just ugh #i'm giving him Mr. Darcy energy I don't give a shit

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goaways-stuff · 4 months

Text

Sunshine's Baked Goods

Tim Bradford x gn!baker!reader

Summary: Long shifts rarely end in such wonderful things

Rating: PG, but I'm an 18+ page

Warnings: none! fluff. No physical descriptions of reader, just that they like pink.

a/n: requested! To the person who requested, I'm so sorry, tumblr deleted my og post & I lost the request & user. Please comment & I'll tag you!! Briefly looked over, but not Beta'd

It was the morning after a long night shift, and all Tim wanted to do was go home and crash on the closest soft surface, but his stomach was ravenous for a bite to eat first. He tried to ignore it as he packed his stuff to go home, though he knew he would need something.

It was still pretty early, the sun had barely risen, and not many places were open yet as he drove around, looking for something to eat. His stomach rumbled as he finally saw an open sign lit up. A small bakery right outside of town. His eyes were heavy as he stepped out, his senses overwhelmed with the sweet scent of fresh baked goods and…coffee? Oh, he had hit the jackpot. Definitely not his normal post shift snack choice, with the pink decor looking like a barbie puked on it, but it was open, and it smelled good.

The store was barren as he stepped in, the only sound was the little bell attached to the door, alerting you that a customer had come in. You furrowed your brows and looked up at the clock on the wall. Just past 6 in the morning. Yeah, you were open, but you never got customers this early. You just came in early to get a headstart on baking and decorating cakes. You wiped your hands, though you were sure you still had frosting stains somewhere on your body as you went out to the front with your signature customer service smile.

“Good morning, what can I-” You were awestruck by the man standing in front of the counter. Tall, muscular, a hunk of a man. “...do for you.” You finished quickly, trying not to ogle.

Tim looked over the small menu above you, seeing the variety of baked goods available. He looked in the glass, settling on a plain donut and black coffee. As you got a second look at him, you noticed the bags under his eyes and the look of exhaustion on his face and in his body.

“Do you want me to make that an espresso for you?” You asked as you rang him up.

“Not this time, thanks. ‘Bout to head home and crash.” He chuckled, the small smile lighting up the whole room, causing your heart to speed up.

“Professionalism!” You reminded yourself as you nodded, ringing in the coffee as a water. It was your business, after all. A little discount for a nice customer every once in a while is just good customer service.

You turned around, pouring a cup of the freshly brewed coffee and making sure to grab the best-looking donut.

Tim swore to himself he saw you glancing at him. He tried to convince himself that he was just tired, and the attractive person behind the counter was just being polite. He couldn't help but glance back as he watched you make the coffee. And when he finally took the first sip, he swore you had to have put something extra in there. Perfectly brewed, smooth, not too bitter. The donut was soft and melted in his mouth. He thanked you and went on his way, sure that he was just so sleep deprived that he was imagining things. Imagining a connection.

But that didn't stop him from coming back. It became a regular thing after, especially long shifts. You always greeted him with a smile, but he swore again that there was an extra sparkle that wasn't there with other customers. The hot, grumpy man is what he became to you. All your employees made sure to get you when he came around. Though he was never rude, just quiet and to the point.

You always made sure he had the freshest brew of coffee and the best donut, even if that meant going to the back to the warmer to get one. His order was so simple, yet perfection every single time.

It was another late night, and you were getting ready to close shop when he came in. You smiled. It was easy to get annoyed when customers came in so close to closing, but you didn't care for him. He looked especially tired, so you brewed him a fresh coffee since you had already discarded the batch that had been sitting for a while. You took care to warm the donut up as something in your body pulled you to take a risk. As he sat down, you wrote your number down on the receipt, at the very bottom. You had to take a chance at some point.

You handed him his food. He always stayed to eat, though it never took him more than ten minutes. You went to the back to finish closing, not wanting to admit to yourself that you were too much of a coward to face him. He left as normal, and you were a little disheartened. Maybe he just didn't see it yet, you told yourself. Or maybe he's taken. Or maybe he just doesn't like you. You tried to calm your spiraling thoughts as you closed, turning off the pink neon open sign.

You tried not to, but you checked your phone far too often that night, hoping for a text. It wasn't until the next afternoon when you got a text from a new number. You were over the moon, clutching the phone to your chest as your life played out like a movie. The chat ended with a date at a higher end restaurant across town that weekend. It was all you could think about that week. You hummed love songs and made more couple's themed cakes than normal.

Even at the station, Tim's coworkers noticed his good mood. A little less harsh on all the “Tim Tests,” a little less snappy with his orders. It was the talk between all of his coworkers.

Date night came, and you scrambled to pit yourself together. Everything about you had to be perfect. Pink accents complimented your outfit. He was even coming to pick you up like a true gentleman, a bouquet of pink roses in hand. So he picked up on that.

You gracefully took his arm as he led you to his car, his hand right above your knee the whole way. Protective but gentle, not wanting to push any boundaries. He smiled the whole time, more than you had ever seen him before.

And, of course, the night went great, starting off with the essentials of getting to know each other, but diving a little deeper into what the both of you are looking for in a relationship. He had you giddy the whole night, drowning you in compliments, giving a pink flush to your face. You were no stranger to the flirtations either, compliments flowing about his suit, his freshly cut hair, and how it enhanced his sharp features.

Your heart fluttered from the butterflies flying in your stomach the whole night, and a longing for more had already set in before the night had ended. He drove you home, walking you to your door step.

“So, next Friday?” He smiled, wanting to hear the reassurance for the next date.

“Yep.” You responded, hearts for eyes. He looked at you, his eyes soft, flashing to your lips, plush and strawberry tinted. It aas a moment of silence, but not the awkward kind. It was filled with tension, begging for one of you to break it. Ultimately, he brought a hand to your face, rough and calloused with a gentle touch, bring you to him as he connected his lips to yours. For such a brooding guy, his lips were soft as ever, lovingly exploring yours. You hands wrapped around his neck as his other hand made it to your waist. It lasted forever but not long enough as you had to pull away for a breath of hair. He followed up with a small peck to the lips and a confident smile.

“I'll see you then,” He said, though you both knew he'd be coming to the shop before then.

#tim bradford #the rookie #eric winter #tim bradford x reader #the rookie x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fanfic #the rookie fanfic #the rookie fic #gender neutral imagine #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine

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soobszzn · 9 months

Text

distant affection

synopsis: doing everyday tasks wasn’t a hassle when jungkook was with you - even if that meant you were miles apart.

pairing: ldr!jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, established + long distance relationship

content/warnings: long distance relationship and all things associated, mentions of food, jungkook is still an idol, brief (lol) mention of jungkook and his sexy calvin klein endorsement, use of “my love” in a teasing (& affectionate) context

wc: 1.8k

a/n: sorry this is so late!!! love u, S🌸

you knew navigating a long distance relationship with the jeon jungkook would have its ups and downs. obviously, the time difference messed with you both. one person would be asleep when the other was awake, and even if you were awake at the same time, one of you would usually have to attend to other things.

the both of you made it work, though. you’d send each other pictures throughout the day and squeeze in video calls wherever you could. you’d mail each other gifts when you couldn’t be together for special occasions. when jungkook had a couple days off, you’d use it to have long movie dates online in which he would usually fall asleep first. but you didn’t mind.

during his longer breaks, he’d always make it a point to come visit you. the two of you would go sight-seeing in your own city or take a short trip to the next town over. you loved doing anything and everything with him, but the most enjoyable moments were in the mundane. you loved moments where you’d scroll on your phones together on the couch or tease each other while you brushed your teeth before bed.

saying goodbye was always the hardest. there wasn’t anything that could really make missing him hurt less. but while helping him pack during his last visit, you took advantage of when he snuck off to the bathroom and stole a hoodie out of his suitcase. you’d hoped he hadn’t noticed.

munching on your midday meal, you scrolled on your phone before getting a video call from your boyfriend. it was a welcome surprise, so you answered right away.

“hey! what are you doing awake right now? isn’t it like five in the morning?” his phone was looking at the ceiling and you heard music playing in the background. colorful lights speckled his ceiling, and you knew he was again enjoying the galaxy light projector you gifted him last christmas.

“i have a free day tomorrow! and i really wanted to talk to you!” he yelled, indicating he was far from his phone.

you smiled to yourself, appreciating your boyfriend and his sweet gesture. you guessed that with how busy he was recently, he’d be dead tired by the time he came home. but, the fact that you were the first thing on his mind made your heart leap. you then heard the faint music in the background cease, and watched as jungkook propped his phone up, front camera now facing him.

he was leaning on his kitchen counter, sleeve tattoo fully on display. his hair was long and fluffy, his bangs reaching his eyes. you could tell he was tired, but nothing could hide how handsome he was.

you noticed him stare intently into the phone screen. “what are you staring at?” you questioned with a laugh.

“you’re eating lunch right now, right? i’m hungry! let’s eat together!” he said excitedly. jungkook then adjusted his phone so that you had the perfect view of him busy at his stove. you watched as he began tossing things into his pan. you chuckled softly.

“what are you cooking?” you asked curiously, your head now resting in your hand.

“i’m just throwing stuff together, see?” he answered, now panning his phone to what looked like fried rice.

you giggled, now panning your phone to the makeshift fried rice you made for yourself just earlier. the two of you erupted into laughter.

“pretend i made that for you, okay?” you teased, setting your phone back down and taking another bite.

as jungkook finished preparing his meal, you asked him about his schedule for the day. he complained that he had a lot to do in the upcoming days because he had an international schedule set for next week.

“are you sure that’s not just code for coming to visit me?” you half-joked. you knew he was currently busy with solo activities, and it hadn’t been too long since he last visited. but there was always a small part of you that hoped any time he left korea, it was because he was on his way to you.

eventually, he ended up at his kitchen table, phone propped up as if you were sitting across from each other. after taking his first bite, he exclaimed with amazement at his own kitchen creation.

“wahh! wow!” he cried, intentionally being overdramatic. you laughed at his silly theatrics, but you found it all endearing nonetheless.

“want a bite?” he teased, holding a spoonful up to his phone. you proceeded to imitate receiving a bite, and the two of you laughed.

while enjoying your respective meals, you continued to chat about small and pointless things. despite the uneventful topics of conversation, eating together like this made you crave real dates with him. ones where he’d take you to a fancy restaurant for dinner or a small cafe for some coffee. you made a mental note to take him to a new brunch place that opened up the next time he visited.

“what else are you planning to do today?” he asked, making his way to his sink. you followed suit, thinking it would be cute to wash dishes “together.”

“whatever you’re planning to do today.” you replied warmly.

the two of you then washed your dishes simultaneously. your video call now filled with the sounds of water running and dishes clanking, with jungkook occasionally breaking into song or humming a familiar tune.

“i have some laundry i need to fold actually,” he mused afterwards, taking a quick scan of his home.

“i do too!” you replied excitedly at the convenient coincidence.

now, with both phones propped up in your respective living rooms, the two of you dove into your piles of laundry. you chatted about new music you were listening to, books you wanted to read, and the new spider-man movie that jungkook was excited to see.

when jungkook began tackling his pile of underwear, he started showcasing the new pieces he received from calvin klein.

“oh my god! what are those!” you laughed. the two of you giggled at the brightly coloured pairs that he was holding up to his phone. although not his typical style, you were glad one of his solo activities included being the endorser for such a popular - and sexy - brand.

you finished folding first, so you adjusted yourself comfortably on your sofa and watched jungkook continue. jungkook took a glance at you and smiled to himself.

“what?” you questioned with a pout.

“you look cute,” he answered with a soft chuckle. you were cuddled up on your couch, encompassed snugly within a throw blanket jungkook had previously gifted you. you hid your face in your hands bashfully.

as he finished folding his clothes, jungkook opted to play some of his music recommendations through his television. he’d softly sing along as you listened intently, chiming in with short remarks here and there.

“i like this one,” you commented after one of the songs ended.

“ah! why don’t i just sing for you, my love?” he suggested suddenly with a teasing tone.

“ew, no, don’t call me that!” you replied with fake disgust. you and jungkook would typically just call one another by your names, so the sudden use of a nickname both surprised and flustered you.

“but go ahead then, mr. jeon.” you continued, previous shyness now replaced with an intrigued arrogance.

after quickly setting up his karaoke machine, jungkook then turned to you smugly with his microphone in hand. he started out his late night - or perhaps early morning - performance with a couple songs related to inside jokes the two of you shared. you watched fondly as jungkook happily sang along to the upbeat pop music.

“don’t go overboard and strain your voice,” you gently reminded him.

“of course, my love.” he teased you again, with a wink this time. you playfully shot him a repulsed look in response.

following his high-spirited warm-up session, he then transitioned to singing his own music. in an attempt to impress your world-class entertainer of a boyfriend, you would sing along using bts fanchants and passionately wave around an imaginary army bomb. jungkook - while still seated on his sofa - would mimic the choreography as he ventured through his groups’ discography.

after running through a couple bts tracks, jungkook then transitioned to serenading you with songs he knew were your favourites. you gazed at him warmly, now completely immersed in him and his voice. although you’d hear him speak practically every day, you never tired of his soft and angelic singing.

through your now heavy eyelids, you noticed your boyfriends’ energy start to deplete as well. he had stopped dancing and moving around as dynamically as earlier, now only swaying back and forth on his couch. you were still comfortably curled up on your couch, now fighting the urge to slip into an afternoon nap.

“are you getting sleepy?” he asked softly after finishing another song.

“no, not at all,” you mumbled, shaking your head at him with a pout.

“alright, you liar.” he taunted playfully. you noticed him place his microphone down beside him, perhaps signalling that he was finished with his karaoke performance.

“wait! one more song!” you cried out in a sudden panic. you didn’t want this moment of bliss to end so soon. the two of you hadn’t had such a long call together in a while, so you wanted to indulge in this moment as much as you could.

“please. just one more song.” you implored, trying to persuade him with forced “puppy dog eyes.”

jungkook conceded with a sly smile, picking up his microphone again. then, ever so swiftly, you heard a slow and soft tune start to play. you allowed yourself to close your eyes, completely immersing yourself in jungkook’s melodic and affectionate final serenade to you.

before the song even concluded, you had fully fallen asleep on your couch. jungkook noticed this, finishing up the song quietly so as to not wake you suddenly. his lips curled into a soft grin as he watched you fall deeper into your slumber.

after tidying up his living room, he made his way to his bedroom with the hopes of getting some rest of his own. he propped you up beside him on his bed, as if the two of you were sleeping next to one another.

then, before succumbing to his own heavy eyelids, he jokingly whispered into his phone: “by the way, i know you have my hoodie.”

but he hoped you hadn’t heard.

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m00nh1gh · 5 months

Text

OLDER

Bsf's dad!Bang Chan x reader

You knew you had a thing for older men but you didn't expect to be in this situation.

Contains: Unprotected car sex, masturbation (f), fingering, there's an age gap, but the reader is legal AND they didn't know each other when she was a minor, just a little heads up.

Word count: 3.1k.

Sleepovers at your best friend's house were always the best. You'd watch plenty of movies (or videos on YouTube) and cook together when her dad wasn't home. You had done all of that tonight and even had a photoshoot for new profile pictures and posts for Instagram. You really went all out for it, too.

Though, there was always one thing that bothered you at those sleepovers and it was the sleep part. Yuna snored a lot and it lead to insomnia for you. You'd usually be okay with it, because you never failed to bring your headphones, but this time, you had let them at your house.

You grunted for the fifth time in a whole minute before letting go of the pillow you'd been using against your ears to try and muffle the sounds, but to no avail. You decided it could be good to take a little walk in her house. You guys were alone anyway, so it wouldn't bother anyone.

You slowly opened the door of her bedroom, walked out and made sure to close it behind you. You looked around to make sure her dad wasn't here and went to the kitchen silently.

You poured yourself some water in the glass you used tonight and took a big sip of it. You could finally relax once you were away from Yuna. You didn't even know exactly why snoring irritated you so much. It made you feel bad to complain about it so much, but you just had to.

"Y/n? It's late, why aren't you sleeping?"

You jumped and put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from yelping. You had never heard him coming in the house, even less walking in the room and leaning against the doorframe. He didn't look annoyed or bored. He was, in fact, smiling at you with a raised brow. It made you blush - as usual - and you looked down.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I just came here to get some water.

- You know it's alright, you should still get some rest though," he placed his coat on the kitchen island as he walked to the fridge, which was right beside you.

His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but to take a look at his arms and hands as he took a plate Yuna and you had prepared for him earlier. He placed it in the microwave for one minute and thirty seconds and then he looked back at you.

"She's snoring again, right?

- Yeah."

He laughed and suddenly, your heart started beating faster. This wasn't right. You shouldn't feel like this around him. He's your best friend's dad, for God's sake!

"I'll be awake for a while more, wanna come to my office? I could use some company.

- Oh, but I don't want to bother you…

- You won't. I really would appreciate your company. But if you wanna go back to sleep, then it's good too!" His dimples are so hot. His office outfit is so hot. You felt hot.

"No, I'm not going to sleep," you smiled at him before following his lead to his office that was on the second floor. It was the first time you steeped into it and it somehow felt intimate; Yuna had always told you her dad did not let anyone in there while he was gone and now he invited you to sit on the small couch that was settled next to a bookshelf.

"Don't tell Yuna about this, she'll start coming here without my permission," the man sighed as he sat on his chair behind his desk. He turned his computer on and looked back at you while it loaded. "You can do whatever you want, I have books there and other stuff… Just don't touch what's on my desk, not that I think you would anyway," he gave you a wink and a smile as he laid back on his chair, turning his attention back to the screen.

Some time passed since your last interaction with Christopher. You had picked a book from his shelf, but quite honestly, it was just to make yourself look busy. You surely couldn't concentrate on it when you could see him shift on his seat and hear him sigh from time to time, clicking his tongue and grunting. You didn't know what he was working on, but it surely made him frustrated.

You looked at the cover of the book since you didn't even know which one you had picked. That's how uninterested you were about it, but maybe that you should start being, because Christopher's noises made you think some stuff that you shouldn't think about.

"100 Cocktail Recipes; Spice your Drinks Up!" What the fuck?

"Is everything alright?" You opted on asking, coming to the conclusion that you wouldn't read anything tonight.

"Yeah, yeah. Just work stuff, you know?" He looked rather enthusiastic about you finally talking to him. You guessed he needed a little break from work.

"Yeah, I know," you looked around the room, suddenly feeling really awkward and regretting having talked to him.

"I guess I could take a small break," he sighed and leaned back on his chair, his hands behind his head as he looked back at his screen. "Wanna go on a little drive?

- I'd actually like that, yes," you smiled and you both got up to walk out of the office.

"Wait just a bit, I'm gonna go change into something else," you nodded and he came back a few minutes later with a t-shirt and simple jeans. The shirt was tight. You didn't even know how it didn't tear because the man is muscular. You shook your head a little to let go of your thoughts and followed Christopher to the entry door.

Once your shoes were on, he let you get out first and he locked the door behind him.

"Let's hope Yuna doesn't wake up," he chuckled and unlocked his car. You smiled and mentally prayed that she wouldn't notice you were out too, walking to the car and getting in the passenger seat as Christopher sat at the driver's seat.

"So, where are we going?

- Anywhere, it's up to you.

- I know a pretty spot somewhere. Let's get snacks and then go there. Yeah?

- Sounds good," you smiled at him and he returned it, starting the engine and driving to a small convenience store Yuna and you went to often. It was the only one that was open the whole night, so when you ever craved something late, you walked there and took whatever you needed. You even became friends with the cashier.

"Hey, Y/n!" Jeongin waved at you and nodded at Christopher. You walked to him as Christopher picked some snacks in the store.

"Is that your dad?

- No, that's Yuna's dad," you looked behind to make sure he wasn't near you and you leaned forward. "He's fucking hot."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head.

"Do you even know how old he is? Not that he looks 60, but that's still her dad.

- He's like in his half 40's, it's alright.

- What are you guys talking about?"

You jumped as Christopher put food and drinks on the counter. Jeongin stayed silent as he scanned the items and you cleared your throat.

"Are you two dating?

- What? No, no!" Jeongin finally spoke.

"That's Yuna's boyfriend," you added, side eyeing Jeongin whose cheeks reddened significantly.

"Am not.

- Not yet," you teased and Christopher laughed.

"I'll be looking forward to our first family dinner with you, then," he paid for the stuff and took the plastic bag after Jeongin put the receipt in it. You said your goodbyes and walked out with a smile still sitting on your face, thinking back to Jeongin's shyness at the mention of your best friend.

"They'd look cute together," Christopher said as you both got back in the car.

"I know, right? But they're both so oblivious that it hurts me sometimes.

- Give them time and eventually, they'll confess."

It was a ten minute drive until Christopher parked his car in an empty parking lot, which was right in front of a small river. There were benches along it and lampposts beside each one of them. It was a pretty spot indeed, but you wished you'd brought a jacket with you if you were to get out of the car.

"We can stay in the car if you want, you're not wearing something adequate to the weather," he remarked and you agreed.

He took out two bottles of water and handed one to you. You opened it and immediately took a sip. You hadn't noticed how thirsty you were, and the water felt refreshing in your throat.

"And what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?

- No, guys at school aren't for me.

- Ah, I see," it was silent for a little moment until you heard him unbuckle his seat so he could turn to you the way he wanted to. "What about older guys? You know, you're old enough to have a little age gap in relationships now."

You played with the cap of your bottle nervously, your heart pounded hard in your chest and you could hear it. "Yeah, I like older men.

- Men, huh?" He smirked and turned your head towards him with a hand placed on your cheek. "Have you tried talking to them?"

You shook your head and hardly swallowed, suddenly needing another sip of water. But, you couldn't move. Christopher looked too beautiful in the dark of the night, with only a small amount of light that hit the side of his face. His lips looked extra kissable and they were still a little wet due to his drink and you felt yourself getting needy.

"No, I haven't.

- Then talk to me," he leaned close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you closed your eyes, "Am I old enough for you?

- Yeah," you whispered, and you swore you could hear his smirk. He looked back at you, and it was hard for you not to look away. He was way too intimidating for you to hold eye contact.

"I knew you'd be a good girl for me," he kissed you shortly once, and then the second one was deep. His lips- God, his lips felt so good against yours. They were so soft and fit perfectly with yours, driving you insane and you undid your seatbelt to get closer to him. Christopher groaned lowly as his tongue entered your mouth, and his hand found its way to your thigh, slowly hiking up your shorts. Well, as much as he could.

You shivered at his touch and softly bit on his lower lip, making a moan escape from his lips and that was it: now you were wet for sure and he broke away from the kiss, looking at you with lustful eyes.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

"I just want you," you admitted, placing a hand on his chest. It trailed down to the end of his shirt.

"Then I'll show you how much I want you too," he reclined his seat a little and gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You obeyed and immediately felt him through his pants. He was already half hard for sure.

"So fucking beautiful," he took a strand of your hair between his fingers, then putting his hand at the back of your head to pull you closer so he could kiss you. He slid his hand down your waist, making its way under your shorts. His other hand cupped one of your boobs through your tank top. You whimpered and put your hands around his biceps, feeling his muscles flexing under them.

His lips were so rough against yours that it added an edge of excitement to the moment. You were completely lost in this touch, his hand was back out of your shorts and was settled on your hip. His other one was sliding down your sides, feeling your curves.

"You're going to drive me insane," you hummed against his lips and rolled your hips a little, making him groan and pull you away from the kiss. "Touch yourself, baby," he commanded, moving one hand to grab your ass and squeezing it.

"What?" You asked with a small voice, unsure of what he meant by this.

"I want to see you touching yourself," he clarified, his voice as rough as his touch. A hand under your top now, he found your nipple and teasingly brushed against it. You reacted to it, pulling yourself closer to him, and you nodded, spreading your thighs a little. You slid a hand under your shorts and panties, reaching your clit immediately.

His hand finally pinched your nipple and it earned him a moan from you. "That's it, baby," he breathed. "You look so fucking hot."

You hummed again, rubbing small circles on your clit as you absorbed everything he told you.

"So obedient. You like being my good girl? Like touching yourself for me?

- Yeah," you moaned as your hips bucked up, looking down at him.

"Tell me more," he demanded. He wanted you to beg for him, to show him just how much power he held over you.

"I like being your good girl, only yours," you said, pulling the fabric of your panties and shorts to the side so he could have a glimpse at what was going on under your clothes.

"You're such a tease," he teasingly traced a finger along your wet folds. "Look at how wet you are for me."

You whimpered and stopped touching yourself for him to take over. Your hands went back to his biceps.

"Do you like being teased?" He asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He continued teasing your pussy, ignoring how you tried getting away due to how sensitive you had gotten.

"No," you closed your thighs around his hand.

"Yes, you do," he said, leaning in to kiss you like a hungry man. His free hand squeezed your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple as he started rubbing on your clit. You moaned against his lips, spreading your thighs for him to touch you better as you tugged at the sleeves of his shirt.

With a low chuckle, he pushed your panties to the side more and slid a finger into your sloppy hole, immediately finding your g spot. "Want me to make you cum?" He assumed you were already ready for a second finger, so he slid another one inside you.

"Yes, please. Please," you breathed out, getting used to his fingers inside you.

"That's it," he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. "Feels good?" He asked, placing hot kisses over your neck as he continued with the right amount of pressure and speed.

"Good," you agreed, lifting his shirt up a little so you could have a look at his toned abs, finally touching the skin. That made him groan again, his fingers digging deeper into you as you touched every inch of his chest. Once your hand reached lower, his hips grinded against it slightly, and you didn't waste another second before unzipping his pants and cupping his dick through his boxers.

He moaned, his hips grinding a little more against your palm. "You're so hot,"

You moaned when his finger brushed against a certain spot inside you and it made you squeeze his cock a little. He lifted himself up a little so you could slide his pants and boxers down a little. Christopher's breath hitched a little and his eyes locked with yours, filled with lust and anticipation. "Fuck."

"Want you inside me, Chris. Please?" You asked, pumping his dick slowly to spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Alright, baby," he hissed a little at your touch. "If that's what you want. But I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he warned, guiding himself to your entrance once your hand had left him. You nodded and pushed yourself down on his dick a little so his tip was already inside you. You moaned and put a hand on the back of the seat for support as you sunk down painfully slowly.

Christopher lost some of his patience and grabbed your hips harshly, thrusting into you sharply without warning. You gasped and threw your head back, feeling the stretch of his dick clearly. It hurt for sure, but you didn't say anything. He knew to give you some time to get used to him. He brought you closer and started kissing your neck. "Told you I can't be gentle," he mumbled as he softly nibbled at your skin.

"Can move," you said, rolling your hips against him. He moaned and guided you, giving a small slap at your ass as you rode him. It was your first time, but by Christopher's moans, you guessed you did good, and you found the hem of his shirt to tug at it.

He got the hint and quickly got it off, throwing it at the back of the car, completely forgetting about it and giving his complete attention to you. Your hands quickly found their way to his upper chest, pawing at the skin. "Fuck, Chris," you moaned against his ear.

His eyes rolled back as you touched him and moaned in his ear that way, picking up the pace of your movements as he guided you on him. "Yeah, feel good, baby? Like having sex with older men? They're better at it, right? They have more experience… I know what's good for you," his lips trailed down your collarbones, and you moved so he could mouth your boob through your top. He softly bit, making your back arch and you lost control of yourself, becoming unstable on top of him.

He cursed and held your hips up, now he was the one pounding up into you at a rapid and rough pace. Everytime his pelvis met your clit, it sent waves of pleasures throughout your whole body and you felt yourself coming closer to your orgasm.

"Shit, gonna cum," he said in a whisper almost and you moaned in response. "Gonna cum soon too, baby?

- Yeah," you agreed and rubbed your clit as he continued thrusting into you. Both of your movements became sloppy and right when he was about to release, he pulled out of you and fucked his own fist until he came all over his stomach. With that vise in front of you, your orgasm hit you fast and your hips stuttered above him as he was still riding his own orgasm out.

"Fuck," you whimpered and collapsed on him. You were both panting heavily and he was now stroking your hair softly.

"Y/n, you're fucking crazy," he said and you laughed.

___

One of my fav chapters frfr

#Spotify #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #christopher bang #bang chan #bang chris

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reasonsforhope · 6 days

Text

"Clothing tags, travel cards, hotel room key cards, parcel labels … a whole host of components in supply chains of everything from cars to clothes. What do they have in common? RFID tags.

Every RFID (Radio Frequency Identification) tag contains a microchip and a tiny metal strip of an antenna. A cool 18bn of these are made – and disposed of – each year. And with demands for product traceability increasing, ironically in part because of concerns for the social and environmental health of the supply chain, that’s set to soar.

And guess where most of these tags end up? Yup, landfill – adding to the burgeoning volumes of e-waste polluting our soils, rivers and skies. It’s a sorry tale, but it’s one in which two young graduates of Imperial College London and Royal College of Art are putting a great big green twist. Under the name of PulpaTronics, Chloe So and Barna Soma Biro reckon they’ve hit on a beguilingly simple sounding solution: make the tags out of paper. No plastic, no chips, no metal strips. Just paper, pure and … simple … ? Well, not quite, as we shall see.

The apparent simplicity is achieved by some pretty cutting-edge technical innovation, aimed at stripping away both the metal antennae and the chips. If you can get rid of those, as Biro explains, you solve the e-waste problem at a stroke. But getting rid of things isn’t the typical approach to technical solutions, he adds. “I read a paper in Nature that set out how humans have a bias for solving problems through addition – by adding something new, rather than removing complexity, even if that’s the best approach.”

And adding stuff to a world already stuffed, as it were, can create more problems than it solves. “So that became one of the guiding principles of PulpaTronics”, he says: stripping things down “to the bare minimum, where they are still functional, but have as low an environmental impact as possible”.

...how did they achieve this magical simplification? The answer lies in lasers: these turn the paper into a conductive material, Biro explains, printing a pattern on the surface that can be ‘read’ by a scanner, rather like a QR code. It sounds like frontier technology, but it works, and PulpaTronics have patents pending to protect it.

The resulting tag comes in two forms: in one, there is still a microchip, so that it can be read by existing scanners of the sort common within retailers, for example. The more advanced version does away with the chip altogether. This will need a different kind of scanner, currently in development, which PulpaTronics envisages issuing licences for others to manufacture.

Crucially, the cost of both versions is significantly cheaper than existing RFID kit – making this a highly viable proposition. Then there are the carbon savings: up to 70% for the chipless version – so a no-brainer from a sustainability viewpoint too. All the same, industry interest was slow to start with but when PulpaTronics won a coveted Dezeen magazine award in late 2023, it snowballed, says So. Big brands such as UPS, DHL, Marks & Spencer and Decathlon came calling. “We were just bombarded.” Brands were fascinated by the innovation, she says, but even more by the price point, “because, like any business, they knew that green products can’t come with a premium”."

-via Positive.News, April 29, 2024

Note: I know it's still in the very early stages, but this is such a relief to see in the context of the environmental and human rights catastrophes associated with lithium mining and mining for rare earth metals, and the way that EVs and other green infrastructure are massively increasing the demand for those materials.

I'll take a future with paper-based, more humane alternatives for sure! Fingers crossed this keeps developing and develops well (and quickly).

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dilatorywriting · 9 months

Text

Monster Mayhem: Love Drunk

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You are a succubus, who is apparently really bad at their job. At least if your poor, nitpicking victim has anything to say about it.

A/N: Sorry for being horny on main, but here we are lol I've been writing a lot of little bits lately for a Twst OC of mine, and decided that hey, y'know what, might as well revamp some of the ones that are easily revamp-able into my usual reader-insert style and pump out some shenanigans rather than just letting them languish away in google docs. So here we be.

🌶️🌶️🌶️ WARNING for Spicy Content!

READ WHAT YOU LIKE, BUT BE MINDFUL OF WHAT YOU READ

“You’re late.”

The steam billowed as if with a sigh, and a familiar figure melted from the warm spray.

You blew a wet strand of hair out of your face with a noise that was nearly a raspberry. “I was busy.”

“I didn’t realize you had a life outside me,” Vil droned, only mostly serious. The little succubus seemed to pop out of the shadows at the slightest beckon, and even when you were gone, you always came back with nothing but talk of all the ways you’d worked to improve your craft since the last they spoke. And of your strange, card-faced friends, on occasion. But that was a topic you tended to hoard closely to your chest like a dragon to gold.

“Not everything revolves around you,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Vil leaned his head back to rinse the remainder of the conditioner from his hair. “Then maybe you shouldn’t act like my good opinion is the only thing keeping you employed, fed, and housed.”

You went warm in the ears, even under the heat of the steam, and crossed your arms petulantly over your chest. At least you’d been keen enough to not pop into his shower fully clothed this time. That had been a mess. You shifted back and forth on the balls of your feet with a grumpy, little huff and Vil didn’t bother to fight the way that his eyes followed the slowly rolling droplets of water that trailed lower with each fidget.

“Whatever. I’m here now, aren’t I?” you grouched. “But anyways, what’s the plan for today? Out late again?”

“More all-day shoots,” he said, reaching up to replace one bottle of custom hair product for another. “And an interview to follow that’s meant to be a pre-recording for the morning programs tomorrow. So that could be close to midnight, depending on when we finish up.”

Your nose scrunched in sympathy. “Ew. I don’t get why you do all this stuff. It sounds like a nightmare. Human media is so strange.”

Maybe it was. But—

“It’s worth it,” he huffed, running one of his newer serums through the silky strands of his pale hair. He glanced down at you from beneath his dripping bangs. “Have you been using the conditioner I gave you?”

“Do you think there are functional showers in Hell?” you snipped, and then averted your gaze in chagrin. “I have been trying. I just—it’s not always an option all the time,” you said, a bit embarrassed.

“Come here,” he sighed, twirling his finger in a sign to show him her back, and you shifted closer obediently.

It was always so funny, he thought, as he reached out to scrub white bubbles into your mused hair. That you would spit and hiss, and throw such a tantrum over everything. But when it came to actually obeying his orders? You were always putting one foot in front of the other to meet him more than halfway. If he said ‘jump,’ you’d whine and complain but inevitably ask ‘how high.’ Like a loyal little stray that growled and raised its hackles but would come preening for food and attention at the first whistle.

“Sounds like a stressful day,” you hummed, arching into his fingers like a cat being stroked down its spine. “Are you still stuck working with that one guy you hate? Nigel, or whatever?”

“Neige,” he huffed, giving your hair a soft tug in rebuke. “And yes. The project hasn’t wrapped yet.”

“So a very stressful day,” you mused, tilted your head back to thump against his chest and stare up at him through the steady stream of water overhead. He watched the thin, feline-like, pupils of your eyes flash and widen into something round and dark. “This’ll be perfect then.”

“What?” he scoffed, as if he hadn’t just seen those pulsing, black pupils himself and felt something in his stomach tug. “That I’m stressed?”

“No,” you huffed, cheeks puffing out in irritation like he’d known they would. “Because I’ve been practicing.”

He arched a pointed brow and your cheeks went rounder yet. You stepped out of his hold and turned so the two of you were chest to chest. Vil let his hands fall to rest at the dip in your back and you pressed along him in one, lean line from toe to hip. Those strange, iridescent irises of yours flicked over his face, his lips, and those rabbit cheeks went hot with embarrassment. (“Humans kiss each other,” he’d said during one of their earliest meetings, when he’d leaned in with a smirk to brush his mouth against your temple and you’d nearly started seizing. “It’s what they do.” And you’d gone rattlingly indignant and started sputtering about impropriety of all things. All while you were sitting there butt naked and demanding he let you jerk him off so you could meet your weekly quota).

Your eyes dipped low beneath your lashes. And then you darted up quick to press a peck to his chin before immediately dropping to your knees. You leaned forward to nuzzle into the soft, blonde hairs tufted there and then dragged your tongue up the length of him in one, long lick. Vil fought a shiver.

“Practicing, huh?” he droned, affecting boredom as best he was able.

“Yes,” you replied, determined, and gave another lick. Shorter, this time. And more focused along the delicate, pink crown of him. “You made fun of me last time! Called it a ‘High Schooler’s First Blowjob!’ How could I not practice?”

“Oh? With who?” he scoffed, a bit more bitter jealousy seeping into the sneer than he would have liked.

Your face went scrunchy with embarrassment again and then you were sinking back down to run your tongue against the thick vein along the underside. Vil reached out to twine his fingers in your hair and you ducked forward to take him into your mouth.

“You’re lucky you caught me before I got out of the shower,” he said on a sigh, hips twitching when you gave a firmer suck. “This would hardly be worth dirtying myself all over again for—”

You pressed her tongue sharply into the little slit at the head and then dragged the muscle forward in a wide sweep—circling the whole of the most sensitive creases and then applying that same, lovely, suction all over again. Vil groaned, low and rumbling, and he could practically taste the bubbling excitement of your pride bursting along his lips.

You hummed—smug—intentionally loud and muzzy, so that it shot through the buzzing nerves in his skin like a symphony. Vil grit his teeth and dug his fingers into your hair to yank. Instead of popping off with an indignant whine and a trailing string of saliva, you narrowed your eyes at him and then dove forward—relaxing your throat and swallowing him down until your nose was pressed into his pubic bone. Vil cursed, head falling back against the tile wall with a punched-out moan and fingers twining shakily in the short hairs by the base of your skull.

“You have been practicing,” he mumbled, fighting the urge to go a bit cross-eyed when you swallowed around him.

You hummed in affirmation. It vibrated all the way from head to base and he shivered in time with it.

After too many long, long seconds of him nearly slipping down the wall with the curl of his toes, you popped off with a cough.

“I can hold my breath for ages now,” you declared proudly, a smear of milky white smudged along the corner of your lips. You leaned forward to prop your chin up against the jut of his hip bone and smirk up at him with a look that was a touch too genuinely excited to be truly impish. “Told you I could do it.”

“How foolish of me to have ever doubted your dedication,” he scoffed, still a bit too breathless for the sarcasm he was trying to spit. It nearly came out on a gasp and your grin grew wider. He sneered, a bit too harsh under his fluster, “What with your stalwart focus on never even touching the kits I’ve bought you. Let alone making any of the other bevy of improvements that I’ve been trying to put into place for weeks now.”

“Oh?” you droned, sharp. “Well, sorry to disappoint, Lord Vil. I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

And then without preamble, you were swallowing him down all over again all the way to the root—nose brushing the soft, pale, hair there as you dutifully squeezed your throat and ran your tongue along the underside until he was practically seeing stars. You drove forward further, hands coming up to dig your nails into his thighs as you pushed yourself until you were trembling and pinpricks of sharp tears dotted your lashes. One of those hands shifted between his legs, and you reached out with careful fingers to twine around the delicate stones there and squeeze.

Vil curled forward and came with something that was nearly a shout, trembling and loose as he emptied himself down your throat. You swallowed around each pulse, sending zip after zip of oversensitive buzzing through his veins.

You pulled away with another round of coughing, looking positively debauched. You scrubbed some of the dripping water out of your eyes and then moved to swipe away the stray drops of sticky whiteness that had managed to escape your otherwise valiant efforts to drink him dry.

“Better?” you grinned, hair mused and cheeks wet and sore.

A quip rested on his tongue. Something about how you could not be, when there’d been nowhere to go but up? But the genuinely delighted look on your face, and the soft, hesitant, undercurrent of nervous tension underneath had him loosening his fingers from your hair to rub at one of the milky stains littering your chin.

“It was good,” he said. “Better than that, even. Well done.”

“Worth taking another shower for?” you beamed.

“Worth an entire morning’s routine,” he smiled, far too soft, and leaned down to press a long, wet, kiss to your lips when you went spluttery and shy.

“I can come by your trailer, if you want,” the succubus offered, as Vil busied himself with blotting a towel over your dripping hair.

“Oh?” he mused. “I thought you only needed to feed once a day.”

“Well, sure. But I mean for your stress relief,” you said on an indignant little puff, crossing your arms tight across your chest. You peeked up from beneath your lashes, cautious. “I mean, only if you’d want that sort of thing.”

He reached out to cup your cheeks and pinch. You whined under his prodding but didn’t swat him away.

Vil sighed, dramatic and put upon. “I suppose if you insist. How could I deny my most precious little protégé anything they ask, hmm?”

“Easily, if the past few weeks are anything to go by,” you sneered around his tugging. “And who’s ‘your protégé’?! I’m the succubus here!”

“Yes,” he drawled. “A succubus who’s needed me to teach them everything they know. What a fearsome creature, indeed.”

“I could fuck you to death,” you threatened, eyes flashing bright and eerie.

Vil pinched harder, until the skin under his fingers went nearly white, and you winced—those same, slitted eyes going a bit glassy and nervous. He leaned forward until his breath ghosted along your lips and he watched your throat bob in a gulp.

“I’d like to see you try.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #vil schoenheit #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #vil shoenheit #Succubus!Reader #Monster Mayhem Succubus Part 1 #SPICY CONTENT

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babyleostuff · 10 months

Note

Absolutely love your OT13 reactions!! Do you mind writing one about how seventeen would react at an award show if their so (also an idol) forgot about the whole “no one is meant to know we are dating” thing and did smth like sit on their lap or run up to them and hugged them on instinct when they won an award so it’s j all cute and fluffy?? Hope you’re having a wonderful day btw **showers you in happiness and baked goods**

so happy to hear you enjoy my work love! I'm not sure if it's as fluffy as I'd like it to be, but I had no other idea for this request, so sorry for that. Still, I hope you enjoy this one as well <3

s/o comes up to them at an award show and forgets about “no one is meant to know we are dating” | ot13

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: hot by seventeen

𓆩♡𓆪 SEUNGCHEOL

In the heat of the moment he’d also forget about all of the cameras surrounding you. Only after Jeonghan forcefully shoves his shoulder he kind of realises where he is and what has just happened. It's too late to deny anything, so he just goes back to hugging you.

𓆩♡𓆪 JEONGHAN

He kind of stares at you weirdly and you begin to worry that something bad has happened. You have kissed his cheek a hundred times before, but never has he reacted like that. Only when you notice his big eyes and the silence that surrounds you, you realise what has happened.

𓆩♡𓆪 JOSHUA

When you run up to him to tackle him in a hug he panics, because he knows that you are surrounded by multiple cameras. So instead of catching you - he steps away. And you fall. Let’s say that he had a lot of apologising to do later that night.

𓆩♡𓆪 JUN

Filled with joy about your first win, you run behind Jun and hug him from behind. He gets startled when he feels someone suddenly hugging him and gets even more startled when he sees that it's you. He quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed and thank god everyone was busy looking at the stage.

𓆩♡𓆪 HOSHI

He runs away. He literally runs aways. You don’t even get to touch him, before he takes all his stuff and hurries away with a scream. At first you don’t really know what has gotten into him, but then you look at the boys as they give you a disapproving look.

𓆩♡𓆪 WONWOO

You’re both up on the stage as the MCs. As a reflex you put your hand on his arm, stroking it softly, as you usually do. At first he kind of malfunctionates, before giving you a side eye. He tries to laugh it off and turn it into a joke, to not cause any rumours.

𓆩♡𓆪 WOOZI

He just smiles awkwardly and tries to shake your hand from his arm. At first you want to scold him, but then you quickly realise what you had done. Petrified by the whole situation, he looks around him, before laughing and giving thumbs up to the camera.

𓆩♡𓆪 DK

As you approach him, he kind of realises what is about to happen, but he doesn’t react. He lets you hug him and place a sweet kiss on his cheek. That is when you realise what has happened. You just stand and stare at each other, wishing that you could disappear.

𓆩♡𓆪 MINGYU

He’s probably the one that actually came up to you first. He picks you up and spins you around, before placing a kiss on your forehead. That’s when he sees people giving you weird stares. Not knowing what to do, he picks up a person next to you and spins them around as well, before leaving with an awkward smile and tears in his eyes.

𓆩♡𓆪 MINGHAO

One second Minghao was sitting calmly in his seat and the next you appeared out of nowhere on his lap. He quickly gave you a knowing look, before letting out a soft squeak and knocking you off his lap.

𓆩♡𓆪 SEUNGKWAN

You were all on stage receiving flowers for your win. Unfortunately, the person who was supposed to give you your flowers was Seungkwan. As he was passing them to you, he gave you a quick peck on your cheek. You both froze, looking at each other. Then, Seungkwan fainted.

𓆩♡𓆪 VERNON

He freezes. You ran up to him to give him a quick hug and he simply froze. All eyes were on you. All cameras were on you. His mind went blank and he just stood there with his arms awkwardly dangling by his side.

𓆩♡𓆪 DINO

The moment you enter his personal space, he lets out his famous HAHAHA laugh. You just look at him weirdly, because that was so out of his character. But then you realise what he was trying to tell you through his super awkward laugh. There’s literally a camera next to him and if you’d made even one more step toward him, you’d be in big trouble.

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Note

i just had an idea while talking with ai neteyam last night. What about human reader asking neteyam to make a "movie" together. Or else neteyam learning about porn thanks to one of the guy from the lab and asking reader if she wants to do one. ‼️

wait no cause Neteyam learning about human stuff does things to me and I need to write more of it for my own sanity. also i've discovered my fave trope to write is "people doing embarrassing things and other people catching them and the interactions that bloom thereafter". anyway, enjoy bestie x

ps: i'm probably going to have reached 1800 followers when this is posted so thank you besties ilysm smooches!!!

wc: 990 words

18+ minors dni

Neteyam was up and early today in the lab, too excited to see you and spend the day together to wait any longer. He was a bit disillusioned though, as he came and found you fast asleep in your bed, but despite the minor disappointment, he absolutely adored how relaxed and comfortable you looked as you were splayed like a starfish under the covers, your feet dangling slightly off both sides of the mattress.

He decided to keep busy for a while with the scientists in the lab. He essentially grew up with Norm and Max, a strange, peculiar constant in his otherwise all Na'vi lifestyle and he had his dad to thank for that. He loved them, they were like uncles to him, and despite how much he hated to admit it, there were certain things about humanity he liked, and certain things about humans he found... endearing. Clearly, he thought with a chuckle, mind wandering to you.

"Neteyam, good morning! You're here early today, is everything ok?" Norm had a big smile on his face and his predisposition brightened Neteyam's, who was suddenly happy to be able to spend a little one-on-one time with him.

"Everything's fine, just came to see her, but she's still sleeping."

Norm chuckles as he removes his gloves and throws them in a nearby yellow bin.

"Yeah, she was doing data analysis until late last night. She used my laptop, you can look at it if you want? We did some a timelapse of an immunofluorescent experiment and it's actually really cool to see. Just open my laptop and it should be there."

Neteyam did as he was told. When he opened the lid of the laptop, the image he saw stilled him on the spot, his hand still gripping the screen, almost unable to move or think, just feeling a tinge of raw curiosity, of unhindered temptation. Because on the screen were two humans. The woman was on all fours, head thrown so far back Neteyam was almost worried for her, eyes shut tightly and an almost pained expression on her face, although Neteyam doubted pain was anywhere near what she was feeling in the moment. The man was kneeled behind her, his cock sunk in her almost to the base, holding on to her long ponytail and pulling on it with one hand, the other hand tightly gripping her hip, imprints clearly visible on her skin.

The feelings this evoked in Neteyam were mixed and intense, from wonderment, to confusion, to deep, intense arousal, the blood quickly rushing from his brain to much lower down, and he felt the need to adjust his loincloth to ease some of the discomfort he was currently experiencing. What was this? Who were these people? He's never seen them before among the humans, and Eywa, was Neteyam glad to say that.

"Um... Norm, I don't think this is the experiment you wanted me to see."

Norm walked over to where Neteyam was sitting, mildly amused at Neteyam and his obvious lack of skill around technology. Neteyam almost jumped out of his skin at Norm's gasp and startled demeanour when he saw what Neteyam was looking at, and at how aggressively he was pushing the off button, trying to remove the image from his eyes, and his brain.

"Fuck... I... I'm so sorry, Neteyam. I -..." Neteyam watched dumbfounded as Norm turned on his heels and left, still wearing his labcoat and goggles, and he knew that if Norm were to have a tail, it'd definitely be in between his legs right now.

You were sprawled on the bed similarly to how you had been just a few hours ago, except right now you had the added weight of a almost 9 foot tall alien on top of you, a weight you'd never want to lose. He looked nervous about one thing or another, and you knew based on how his breath was increasing in speed that he was going to spill it soon enough.

"What is it, Teyam? Come on, out with it."

His cheeks turned a deep shade of purple as his eyes avoided yours.

"I saw something today, on Norm's laptop... something I don't think I was meant to see."

"Oh?" That definitely peaked your attention. What would anything on Norm's laptop make Neteyam so fidgety?

"It was... a man and a woman... they were... uhm... naked." Neteyam felt like his face was about to catch fire, and you cackled loudly, finding it hard to believe that Norm had porn on his laptop and was so careless about it.

"OH, MY GOD! I'M NEVER LETTING HIM LIVE THIS DOWN!"

"Wh-what.. was it?"

"Oh, yawne... it's called porn. It's... a video of people going at it."

Neteyam's confusion didn't lessen; quite the opposite, actually.

"But why?"

"Well, let's see, what did it make you feel?" Your raised eyebrow and knowing smirk was enough to make Neteyam's ears flatten in shame.

"Well...I -"

You chuckled. "There you go. That's why. It helps humans... release tension. If it's done well, it can be quite the experience."

"D-do you watch... porn?" the word felt weird and unfamiliar rolling off his tongue.

"Sometimes. But honestly, I think I'd prefer making porn."

Neteyam almost choked at your words, but couldn't help the way his cock twitched in his tewng, and how much his mind wandered at the image he saw and how much he wanted to see you in it, it in front of his eyes, there captured for eternity for him to enjoy... over and over again.

"You... want to... make porn?"

Your hips raised, brushing against his now rock hard-on, moaning a little at the way it relieved some of the pressure building up in your core.

"Only with you, yawne."

He kissed you passionately, ripping the buttons on your top as he undressed you, and made a mental note of yet another thing he should thank humans for.

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kairiscorner · 10 months

Text

happy birthday — miles 42 x reader (birthday special)

↳ summary: miles has been really busy a lot lately, training hard under his uncle to better his tactics at fighting and balancing school and chores on top of everything, he just kind of forgets today was even special. but luckily, you don't forget your boyfriend's birthday that easily. ↳ word count: 1,916

↳ a/n: i did not realize it was my son's birthday on the third, i'm so sorry it's late SJEBCBFIVBRFVBRBVVRBO BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH TO MAKE UP FOR IT, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY MY BOYYYY AND I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE THIS <333

"got any idea what's up today, miles?" you asked miles with a big grin on your face as you caught miles in the halls before class began. he raised an eyebrow up at you as he glanced up at you after collecting all his books and everything else he needed for his first class of today before heading off. "um... no. is it movie night tonight? because sorry, i... i can't make it tonight, cielo." he muttered as he looked at you with eyes filled with hints of sadness and shame at not being able to hang out with you, despite really wanting to. his responsibilities as being the prowler, a student, and a son have got him really occupied lately. he can't really quit either of these full-time jobs he's got going on right now, and you couldn't blame him. you wished he went easier on himself, though, and took more breaks, took it a little easier on himself, maybe would blow off some steam from time to time and tell you at least how he feels so it doesn't bottle up inside him over time.

you held his hand and shook your head. "nah, silly, it's something more important!" you exclaimed with a grin. miles tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrow as he looked at you with a look of confusion. "um... hmm, is it a study night? i know it's not our anniversary yet, it's not your birthday, uh..." he mumbled as he closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head, frustrated with himself because nothing came up in his mind. he didn't think there was anything worth such importance today, though if he was being honest, he wasn't sure what date it was today; he just got by the month by remembering what tests were when, if tonight had prowler activities, or if tonight was going to be laundry night with his mom. he was honestly drawing a blank here, he needed you to give him more obvious clues to help him find out what exactly was so important about today.

you sighed as you let go of his hand and folded your arms in front of your chest. miles' eyes widened as he felt you let go of his hand, he reached out for your hand again as he stepped forward towards you. "cielo, wait! please, i... i'm sorry." he apologized first as he stepped back and took in a breath. "can you just, um, tell me what's up today? i'm sorry, i've just been so swamped recently, and i know that's not the best excuse, but i'm not--" he went on and on, but was interrupted by the first bell. "ay, gotta go, cielo, we can talk about this later!" miles said as he scrambled for his stuff and ran off.

you waited for miles outside of his classroom once your class ended, though he had to stay behind and ask the teachers a couple of questions and clarifications over his homework since he was having a lot of backlog due to his duties as the prowler. miles caught a glimpse of you outside, though before he could call out to you or walk over to you, the next bell rang, and you had to attend to your next class. miles couldn't focus properly, he was overthinking about whether or not he upset you, or if you were already disappointed with him forgetting what day it was today. he wasn't able to check his phone or ask for the date today since he was busy catching up with schoolwork. eventually, miles caught you at lunch, but... you were with ganke. you were huddled over with him at his table, the two of you smiling and chuckling at each other as you showed him stuff on your phone.

miles trusted ganke, and ganke expressed how he didn't have any interest in butting in between you two, but the mere sight of you with ganke–all smiles with him and laughing together, after he hadn't been able to spend much time with you recently due to his responsibilities and all–it hurt him deeply, thinking he failed you and were seeking comfort with ganke. miles walked away, hurt and sad, but angry towards himself for the most part. he ate lunch alone, just like he did before befriending ganke and meeting you, but he felt like he deserved it for pushing you aside, even if he didn't mean to and wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

as miles headed home after school, not seeing you in the halls or at the school yard as he scanned his surroundings for you, he felt super dejected and disappointed in himself. he wanted to stop thinking about his responsibilities for once and just put all his time, effort, and focus on you and only you–but he knew that would be a mere twinkle in his eye, a dream that will only remain as that, a dream. but as he entered the front door of his home, he was greeted to the voices of all the important people he had in his life, with yours ringing distinctly in his ears.

"happy birthday, miles!"

miles stiffened as he heard those two words with his name following the greeting not long after. he blinked for a few times and looked around–his mom and uncle aaron were there, so were ganke and... you. wait, could this be the super important thing you hinted about today? oh, man, did he feel like an idiot–he never thought of his own birthday as something of importance, but you... you kept thinking about him, all day. miles was speechless as you approached him, all smiles, and pecked his cheek. "happiest birthday to you, miles." you said as you pulled away and presented to him the gift you had for him. miles looked at you with a puzzled look. "cielo... for-for me?" he asked you as you chuckled and nodded. "for who else, dummy?" you asked him as miles slowly took the gift and stammered. "i... but, cielo, i don't deserve this. i've missed out on countless dates and meet-ups with you, i keep pushing you aside even though i don't wanna, i--" miles rambled on and on, beating himself up for feeling inadequate at making you happy due to his repeated absences.

before he could continue, you hugged him tightly. "and it's okay, babe. you're good. you try, and even if it doesn't work out, it's the thought that counts. i'm already happy you think of me all the time and want to spend time with me, even if you can't. i love you, miles." you tell him in a gentle voice as miles hugs you back, bringing you closer to him as he kisses your cheek. "i really love you, too, mi cielo..." he mutters as you pull away from him and lead him to the couch for him to open his gift from you.

you handed him a thick box, it was wrapped in purple wrapping paper with green accents, with a green and black ribbon to tie it up. you encouraged miles to open it as ganke filmed it, with his uncle aaron and his mom watching intently. miles was gentle in unwrapping the gift, he didn't rip it open, he wanted to feel the suspense of opening the gift you got him. soon, when he saw what was inside, he gasped loudly as his eyes went wide. he kept repeating 'wait, no...' in a breathless, excited way as he realized you bought him the sneakers he had been wanting for the longest time. he could never ask his mom to buy it for him, and he was saving up to buy them himself, but to get them from you... oh, he felt like he had ascended.

"mi cielo, no freaking way...!" he exclaimed in an overjoyed manner with slight chuckles in his voice as his smile widened as the fact you gifted him the very sneakers he had wanted for a long time sunk in and made him momentarily forget the sadness he was feeling just earlier. his uncle teased you as he wished you didn't gift him those sneakers, he'd have a new obsession for a little while and keep his eyes out for him. "that boy's gonna be wary about me, asking me if i touched them. he's gonna be real overprotective of those, especially since they came from you." his uncle aaron quipped as miles told him that wasn't true. just a little true.

miles kept thanking you and kissed you on the cheek, and as ganke was filming, he encouraged you two to share a kiss. "c'mon, you dorks! for the camera! kiss! kiss! kiss!" he chanted, with uncle aaron chanting along with him. his mother chided the two, saying you two weren't going to be doing anything of the sort in front of them, but you decided you didn't care anymore and pulled miles in for a gentle kiss. miles' eyes widened even more as you kissed him, and though his mother cried out in surprise, with his uncle clapping and chuckling as ganke cheered for you two, he found himself not wanting to pull away and kissed you back.

miles pulled away and gazed at you, a smirk growing on his face as he kissed your cheek. "oh, how did i get so lucky? how could i have you, mi cielo? you know, i'll stop being too serious, you're the only lucky break i have from all the chaos in my life. i promise you, though, i'll make up for all the time that should've been just ours together. i swear, i'll make this place safer for you, i promise." he said as he interlocked his hand with yours, clutching the shoe box in his other hand. he kissed your lips and pulled away, causing you to giggle and get flustered. "i'll hold you to that, miles. but please... don't hesitate to come to me, talk to me, or do anything with me. i love you, babe, i don't mind if you miss a few dates or meet-ups, just be safe out there..." you whispered to him with a smile.

his mother retreated to grab a glass of wine as his uncle called out to her to save him a glass, with ganke chuckling as he saved the footage and teased you two lovebirds. "this... has got to be the best birthday ever." miles gushed as he ran a hand through your hair. you chuckled as you fidgeted with the end of his left braid in your hand. "even with your uncle and mom watching us kiss, with ganke filming all of it, probably never gonna let us live it down...?" you asked as you leaned closer to kiss him again and pulling away. miles smiled sweetly at you as he answered, "really." he kissed you again, with you reciprocating his kiss. that truly was going to be a birthday he'll remember, and he's gonna make sure he keeps his promises to you and work hard to earn your love and pay you back for the gift you gave him. though if you were to ask him, the only gift he really wanted was just to... hold you close, hear your voice, and just be with you on his birthday and for all the birthdays there were to come in the future with you, his sweetheart.

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @pixqlsin @solecitoszn @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x y/n #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #e42 miles #miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader

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