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#imagines request
itsbuckytm · 6 months
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Here me out.. shower sex with Mike Schmidt-
Shower with Mike Schmidt
Summary : Request : In which Mike might have been a little more aware that you had feelings for him all along. While the shower being the only possible room to express those feelings. Warning : SMUT SMUT SMUT
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Mike's unfortunate situation required you to patiently wait for him to return from work. Adding to the difficulty, the young man was already quite stressed, and his primary desire upon arriving home was to immediately seek his bed and rest until the following day. However, today held an exception in your plans, as Mike had briefly requested your assistance in picking up Abby from school and getting her ready for bedtime. This meant that dinner was prepared, and you had a few hours of solitude in the room before his return from work. 
While Mike reveled in solitude, the newfound position bestowed upon him by Mr. Raglan proved to be profoundly challenging, especially considering the disarray he was already in. What astounded you most was not his ability to engage in coherent conversations with you, which seemed increasingly improbable, but rather his tenacity in preserving his mental equilibrium. On that particular evening, when Mike returned, his countenance bore an intricate amalgamation of emotions, instigating heightened concern within you. As he settled upon the living room's couch, he emitted a sigh of such depth and shame that it resonated as one of the most profound exhalations he had ever allowed himself.
As you observed his weary demeanor, you cautiously broached the subject, inquiring. "Long day?" Your initial reluctance to speak dissipated as you extended to him a welcoming cup of coffee, a beverage his physician had explicitly discouraged but one that he had, in a rare instance, advised you to offer if he sought to enhance his concentration. In response, he replied with a simple, affirmative hum and expressed his gratitude through a soft, murmured "Thank you." His hands cradled the cup, the liquid within steaming and exuding a comforting heat, precisely to his liking. As he took a sip, a subtle and almost imperceptible smile appeared to grace his features. "Thank you once more." He acknowledged, appreciative of your thoughtful gesture.
Seated alongside him, you graciously relayed the information that Abby had already completed her evening rituals, having taken her shower and donned her pajamas before partaking in her dinner. In your considerate manner, you suggested that, Mike was more than welcome to do so as well. A habitual inclination to depart from the couch and withdraw from the room began to stir within you, only to be arrested by the unexpected touch of his hand upon your arm. Startled, you turned your gaze towards him, an inquisitive arch gracing your brow. With his eyes half-lidded, Mike implored, his voice carrying a hint of drowsiness but a plea that resonated all too familiarly. "Please stay." He murmured, his pout lending an extra layer of persuasion to his request, beseeching you with a sentiment he was known to employ.
Initially, an instinctive impulse welled up within you, compelling you to dissent in response to this unusual demand. Your responsibility had been solely to ensure Abby's safety during Mike's shift, and no more. Yet, as you contemplated Mike's peculiar request, you couldn't help but entertain the possibility that fatigue had clouded his judgment, rendering him unusually talkative and perhaps even in need of nourishment. The inclination to suggest a small meal tugged at you, but he swiftly interposed, contending that dinner could be postponed. Upon further reflection, his argument held merit. With Abby securely ensconced in her room, serenely slumbering, Mike could, for once, contemplate relaxation. And if relaxation was indeed his aim, what better company than yours to accompany him in this moment of respite?
Though you uneasily acquiesced to his offer, an act that, upon reflection, appeared ethically questionable, the realization of Mike's superior role in your professional hierarchy weighed on your mind. The potential for his occasional idiosyncratic comments, particularly in the presence of your mother, if that were ever the case, gave you pause. However, as you drew nearer, observing the profound exhaustion etched across his countenance, an overwhelming sense of compassion enveloped you. An innate curiosity regarding his profession stirred within, yet you found yourself suppressing the urge to inquire.  As Mike nonchalantly set down his now empty coffee cup and extended an arm behind your back, drawing you closer, you assured him that you were quite comfortable where you sat. However, his expression shifted, and a hoarse chuckle emanated from him, remnants of the previous night still evident in his voice. "I noticed you watching me yesterday." He revealed, a twinkle of playful mischief in his eyes.
An expletive of astonishment nearly escaped your lips, and your eyes flitted nervously from side to side, attempting to process Mike's revelation. The gravity of the situation struck you when it became apparent that he remained unwavering, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours. Your thoughts danced between a presumption that he shared a similar sentiment and a nagging self-questioning, wondering if he had somehow overheard your brief conversation with Abby regarding Mike. 
However, a different intuition emerged, contradicting your initial doubts, as you noticed the subtle curvature of his lips forming a wicked smirk. "You truly believed I was oblivious?" He inquired, and a wave of relief washed over you, dispelling the notion that your initial impression had been nothing more than a self-concocted illusion. This encounter served as a stark reminder that, in the future, you should exercise greater discretion, ensuring that your gaze did not inadvertently linger on Mike, especially in his presence.
Your words faltered, leaving your speech marked by a pronounced stutter that only intensified the flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks, a futile attempt to conceal your burgeoning feelings. With a tender chuckle, Mike gently encouraged you to reveal your hands, appreciating the affirmation of your growing connection with him. It was not that he needed to be vindicated, but he knew that, come tomorrow at work, Vanessa would owe him ten dollars, and you would be unequivocally his.
"Shh..." He leaned in, soothing your nervousness with a hushed reassurance, his thumb tracing a delicate path across your skin, from your thighs to your plump lips. It was a sensation he had yearned for since the moment he first laid eyes on you. In the softest and most polite of tones, he inquired. "May I?" The question rendered you momentarily motionless, your entire being seemingly frozen by his request. Yet, after a fleeting internal struggle, you accepted, a shared chuckle escaping both of you in harmonious union. "You may." Your voice trembled, granting permission with a mixture of anticipation and desire.
His lips, as you had imagined, were remarkably tender, and his prowess as a kisser left no room for doubt. The intricate dance of his tongue intertwining with yours spoke volumes about his skill. Delicately, his teeth occasionally grazed the pliant flesh of your lower lip, a subtle but potent assertion of his claim over you. In response, a soft whimper escaped your lips, conveying the surrender to his captivating ways.
His hands, imbued with an electrifying touch, traversed the sinuous contours of your back before finding their way to your arse. There, his fingers deftly sought purchase, securing a subtle yet undeniable grip on you. With a swift, practiced motion, he hoisted you into his arms, a single arm encircling your petite waist while your legs entwined themselves around his, ensuring that you remained secure in his embrace. Your laughter, a melodious counterpoint to the unfolding drama, rang out softly. You playfully protested being set down, but he obstinately defied your request, his determination unwavering. In his firm yet gentle embrace, he steered you toward the bathroom, both of you destined to embark on the shared experience of a shower.
Though the prospect of sharing a shower with Mike wasn't initially a scenario that had featured in your mental repertoire, you found yourself neither voicing dissent nor wholeheartedly objecting to the idea. With a practiced gentleness, Mike settled you onto the toilet seat, his own readiness for the shower apparent. As he prepared to disrobe, you reflexively covered your eyes, fumbling for any plausible excuse to evade the situation. In response, a light, affectionate chuckle escaped Mike's lips, his shirt already having been discarded. In a swift, surreptitious glance, he stood before you, unabashedly nude. Suggestion that you were welcome to join him if you felt comfortable hung in the air, a tempting proposition.
As the steamy allure of the imminent shower beckoned, you hesitated for a fleeting moment. A silent conversation with yourself ensued, contemplating the decision. "Should I?" You whispered, a trace of uncertainty lingering. Recognizing your own need for a rejuvenating shower, you ultimately made the choice to embrace the moment, shedding any remaining hesitation.
Without a moment's hesitation, you undressed, considering that perhaps the prospect of sharing a shower with Mike was not only a means to spend more time together but also an unconventional yet alluring way to unwind. These musings, however, passed through your mind without further significance. As you calmly entered the shower room, your presence initially went unnoticed by Mike, his back turned to you. But when he eventually turned to face you, a smile graced his countenance, lending an air of relaxation to his features.
His gaze, tender and radiant, seemed to soften as it locked onto your own. "You know," He began, his voice a hushed confession that left no room for delay. "It might not be the ideal way to profess one's love for someone. But, Y/N, I do truly love you." Mike's declaration hung in the steamy air, and without a moment's pause, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a passionate, fervent kiss. This time, the embrace bore a greater intensity, laden with temptation, and his hand embarked on a sensual journey down your body, his fingers delicately caressing your breast areas. Your response was a symphony of soft whimpers escaping from your parted lips, igniting a mutual excitement that engulfed both of you in the fiery throes of the moment.
"I yearn to hear your voice, calling out my name." Mike's voice, now husky and filled with desire, resonated in the steam-filled shower chamber. His eyes, ignited by a fervent lust and passion, darkened as he reveled in the sensation of your soft whimpers, his own desire manifesting physically. His skilled hands continued to caress your breasts with a tantalizing gentleness, evoking a sensation that left you yearning for more, your head tilting back as his lips embarked on an erotic descent along your neck, branding you with conspicuous marks.
In the midst of these intoxicating moments, Mike's voice grew heavier with each pause as he spoke, laying bare his affection for you. "And..." His breath, laden with a heady mix of passion and yearning, created an almost hypnotic rhythm as he confessed, "I wish to ensure that everyone bears witness to whom you truly belong."
In a state of submission, as deeply as he desired, your fingers eagerly sought out his touch. With each caress, Mike's arousal surged, a testament to his yearning for more than just your physical presence, desiring to claim you entirely as his own. He climaxed within you, savoring the sweet sound of your angelic voice, a melodious whimper that begged for further indulgence, all while his hand firmly grasped your hair from behind. Your body leaned back, yearning to face him, its malleable form a testament to its fervent desire, eagerly seeking more and more, as your mouth reached out for his in a passionate exchange of kisses.
"Is this what you desire, my dear?" He inquired, his tone infused with a seductive allure that sent shivers of arousal down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the sensations he had in store. In that moment, all he craved was to witness your vulnerability, and Mike proved exceptionally skilled in achieving just that.
With each rhythmic thrust, you were drawn into a whirlwind of sensation, your eyes rolling upwards as a euphoric wave overtook you. Your moans, once gentle, grew in volume, filling the space with the symphony of your passion. Mike's hand, initially a guiding presence, moved over yours in an objective manner. It was as if this were merely a test, a challenge to see how long you could hold back the flood of your desires.
When his hand finally withdrew, it was as though a dam had been breached, and you surrendered to the torrents of your pleasure. The anticipation built with each powerful thrust, and in a vulnerable admission, you confessed, "I'm about to climax..."
Even though Mike had initially wanted to witness you release your desires, he withdrew, relinquishing his claim to let it all be yours. Instead, he chose to be a teasing tormentor, skillfully pleasuring you with his mouth, his face nestled between your legs, your voice calling out his name again and again as you fervently clutched his curls with your fingers.
With graceful elegance, you descended to your knees, a pout adorning your features, a silent supplication to Mike's desires. He, in response, expressed his wish to witness your climax in a more exquisite manner, his hand enveloping his arousal and guiding it with a gentle precision. As you bestowed a tender peck upon the tip of his throbbing desire, you observed his release gushing forth, an artful display that bedecked your visage.
Amidst the sensual spectacle, his moans filled the air, your name escaping his lips like a sacred mantra, entwined with a fervent curse. A solitary finger traced a casual caress along your cheek, lightly adorned with remnants of his release. Leaning closer, he entreated you to taste the evidence of your shared ecstasy, and without hesitation, you complied.
Just before you realized it, a mischievous smile graced his countenance. "You shall be mine, my dear, and mine alone." He murmured, his tone resonating with the weight of an irrevocable commitment.
"Yes, sir," you responded, your eyes sparkling with anticipation and an exhilaration that danced like firelight. He proceeded to cleanse and pamper both of your bodies, all the while lavishing you with an unceasing cascade of tender kisses. Each kiss served as a wordless proclamation of his boundless affection, a testament to the depths of his love for you.
As the warm water enveloped you both, you couldn't help but contemplate the prospect of spending more time in the showers in the days to come. After all, it seemed like a place where love, passion, and intimacy could be shared in a most exquisite and unending manner.
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buglovingbagel · 4 months
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Things to Know Before Requesting an Imagine!
> I mainly do Stardew Valley, but I also do Rainworld!
> I don't do NSFW as I am seventeen (I'll be eighteen soon, patience).
> It doesn't have to be romantic! I love romance, but again, I'll do nearly everything.
> My preferred characters are Shane, Hailey, Alex, Sebastian, Harvey, and Maru, so if you use them 99% chance I'll pick your request. Maybe 90% chance I'll do any of the others too though, I'm thirsting to write anything.
> How much and how detailed I write depends on my interest in your imagine!
How to make a request!
> Either through the marker on my page, commenting here, or commenting on an imagine! Please refrain from asking under my art unless it seems like I missed your request or the request is inspired directly by the art.
Final Details!
This may be kind of important?? I don't know.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE include details about how you want the farmer to behave even just a little bit in your request. I have a tendency to make the farmer a more ill and toxic character than most people do. I also make them in general a more triggering character to watch. It's just what happens.
If you'd like, you can choose from these presets for the farmers behavior!
PRETTT BIG TRIGGER WARNING FOR A! ⚠️
A) My main and favorite farmer. A relatively toxic but recovering drug addict trying to settle down and be less self sabotaging and self destructive. Has a bad habit in self harm. Polyamorous and Pansexual. Usually presented as masculine, but also presents feminine at times. Assertive but caring, can be seen as rude, relatively stoic, bottles shit up and then explodes. Flirty as well and far more loose when drunk or high (and they usually are high on weed, or at the least have edibles on them.)
TRIGGER WARNING ENDS!!
B) A similar figure to Alex! Was initially created to romance all the moms as a joke, lol. Used to highly enjoy rock climbing and regularly went to the gym. Now finds joy in climbing the rocks near the mountain, even if it isn't exactly as safe. Smokes, but nothing else. Cocky, but is actually incredibly insecure and just taking the fake it til you make it route. TW NEXT PART!! (pooossibly eating disorder??)
C) The most canon farmer possible. A very quiet and expressionless character. Mysterious, always seems to have the energy to do everything possible and gets close to people too fast. In their house, instead of having the wiki like we do, they have a corkboard covered in everything they know about the town. Things like "TO BE NORMAL, GIVE TWO GIFTS A WEEK (NOT BIRTHDAYS)", "CLINT LOVES GOLD", "KROBUS SELLS SPRINKLER ON FRIDAYS", etc. They become profitable a little bit too quick. Their combat in the mines is impeccable. They do become soft around those they really like and lose the stoicism if drunk or injured.
D) Just the ol basic! What most peoples Stardew Farmers come off as. Just a humble, kind, new farmer who stands on business but also is nice to everyone. The default regular person.
And of course, don't be afraid to mix it up and describe your own. I literally DO NOT CARE.
If a gender is not mentioned in request, I'll make it neutral.
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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months
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NSFW
He likes to look up at you while he eats you out with those pretty eyes full of lust… “look at me, angel. look at how good I’m making you feel.”
He loves holding your hand, and if you look away he’ll hold your bud between his teeth lightly as a warning…
He usually doesn’t like to see you cry, but your eyes are so pretty when you’re crying from all the pleasure he’s given you.
He likes to tongue fuck you too but man… he loves sucking on your clit.
He likes to hear you whimper and whine, and loves when you tug on his hair or give him a little guidance
He can’t deny he gets really hard when you gently push his head towards your entrance, wanting some attention there too!!
The sounds…
He’s squeezing your thighs as he sucks, nibbles, licks… you’d think he was starving for pussy
He really just wants to make you feel good, but honestly he eats you out because he really really enjoys it.
He would do it regardless but… it does help that he loves it!
Trying to do anything around the house after he’s gotten a taste of pussy is hard. And god sitting on this man’s face?? He would go to cloud 9…
——————
|| GOJO|| NANAMI|| GETO|| SUKUNA|| CHOSO||TOJI ||KURAPIKA|| LEORIO|| CHROLLO|| ILLUMI|| FEITAN|| EREN|| JEAN|| ARMIN|| RENGOKU|| OBANAI|| TENGEN|| YOUR FAV
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novelbear · 2 months
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"i take it back, i'm sorry"- reactions to making someone cry
prompt list by @novelbear | cw for some very slight cursing!
"are you crying?"
"no, don't do that wait-"
"oh, stop with the tears.."
"i didn't mean it like that, hold on."
"was it something i said?"
"shit, no, that's not what i meant."
"oh, honey."
"there you go, let it out."
"suck it up."
"this was supposed to make you happy!"
"aw, don't cry sweetheart..."
[giving them a panicked hug] "no, no, no, no!"
"i should have stopped, i'm sorry..."
"what? what now?"
"you're so emotional. it's cute."
"good. now you know what it's like."
"how can i make this up to you?"
"i didn't mean to make you upset, you know."
"oh come on, it was a joke!"
"you always do this. making me look like the bad guy."
"my poor baby, i'm so sorry."
"did i scare you? sweetheart..."
"i mean i knew you'd like the gift but not this much..."
"ice cream? a movie? hugs? what do you want? name anything."
"why do you act like you're the only one with feelings? how do you think i feel?"
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melzula · 2 months
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well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?
zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?
i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂
a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!
summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends
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“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”
“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”
“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.
“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.
Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.
“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.
You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.
“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”
“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”
“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”
“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.
“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.
“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.
“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.
“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”
“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”
After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.
“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.
“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”
“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.
You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21
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heartsforhavik · 2 months
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superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader
✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader
✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)
part two here!
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superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.
superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.
superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.
superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.
superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.
superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.
superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-
superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.
superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.
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okay-babe · 2 months
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Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)
A Good Thing, Indeed
tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.
Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.
You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.
Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.
Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.
Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.
Every. Single. Time.
It was as if the two of you were meant to be.
The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.
To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.
There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).
For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.
And how could it not?
You were his wife.
You!
The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.
The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.
You.
The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.
You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.
And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.
The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?
How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!
Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.
If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.
And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.
An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.
Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.
His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.
You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.
You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.
And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?
The short answer was, he couldn't.
And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.
And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?
Well, he tried his best not to.
Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.
Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.
But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.
Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.
Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.
There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.
Mimzy.
Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.
It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.
Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.
It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.
A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.
"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"
There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.
"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"
The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,
"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."
She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.
"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"
"Alastor."
Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.
"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"
She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.
"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"
She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.
"I'll see ya around dollface!"
She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.
What a fantastic start to one's day.
By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.
He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.
Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.
The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.
"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"
Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.
"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."
Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.
That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.
"Mimzy?"
It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.
Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.
"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"
The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.
"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"
She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.
And then, much to his shock, there you were.
Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.
Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.
The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.
"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"
She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.
"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"
You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.
"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"
Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,
"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"
She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.
Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.
"And you didn't think, my dear,"
He began, his voice low,
"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"
The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.
This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.
Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.
The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.
Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.
There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.
What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?
Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.
Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.
"Let her explain?"
You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.
'Stay home with me?'
'Give him a chance?'
'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'
(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).
And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.
She didn't have long, that was for sure.
If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.
And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.
And what a tale she spun, indeed.
With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.
Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.
And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.
How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.
You'd missed this.
(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)
Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.
Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...
"Mimzy."
Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.
Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,
"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,
"Efforts."
How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.
Alastor nodded,
"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."
He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.
"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"
The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.
She was quick to answer.
"Great question, dollface!"
She laughed nervously,
"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."
She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.
Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...
"Dearest,"
He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.
You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.
"Speaking of 'down here',"
Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,
"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"
Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.
Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.
"I uh, I killed a parent..."
You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.
"Pardon?"
He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.
You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?
Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.
You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,
"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."
You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.
He was positively enamored.
"You killed Harry Wells?"
He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.
Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.
"I uh, yeah. I did."
The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.
He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.
"And to think,"
He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.
"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."
You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,
"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"
Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.
"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."
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scara-writes · 18 days
Text
paramour
Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant
I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).
The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.
CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.
I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.
Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.
"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.
"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.
Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.
You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.
You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.
The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from alcohol after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.
"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.
Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.
You didn't hide Everett to your husband.
What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?
Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."
So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?
Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.
"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?
You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.
You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You saw Everett's face was frowning too. "Fine, tell him I'll be there." You announced to the butler. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and find your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.
Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."
His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"
You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"
Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"
He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.
The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.
You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.
You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."
You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.
The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.
His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."
You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.
"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.
Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.
"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"
You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging hus presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"
"(Y/n)."
"Yes, husband?"
His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?
"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not." L
"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.
"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.
There was silence between the room.
"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.
You scoff standing up, "I think I had my fill..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.
"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.
He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.
"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.
Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.
"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"
"..."
"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.
When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.
"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.
Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went rub your back.
If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.
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itsbuckytm · 4 months
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Capital’s lovebirds was so good, please continue to write for him! Barely anyone writes for him 😔 Truly your writing was amazing.
Thank you so much. 🥺 Seeing so much positivity makes me so happy! Treech is such an interesting character and love District 7 soo much. I will definitely be writing for him more and Reaper Ash as well!
Much Love
XOXO
O’ 🎀
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hellsitegenetics · 3 months
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Acting as the tumblr science bro / local sequencer: tell all your followers (lots I'm sure) to be careful criss-crossing deep green / azure / wine-dark / teal (any color actually) aquatic-concerned, generously-connected big spaces where one might happen upon a fish or a fearsome beast with cactus-like spines or terrible cat-like reflexes, creeping silently toward you, to eat, to cull... all this is to gregariously imbue: go there & you may find a mantis shrimp.
String identified: Actg a t t cc / ca c: t a (t ' ) t ca c-cg g / a / -a / ta (a c acta) aatc-cc, g-cct g ac gt a a a a at t cact- t cat- , cg t ta , t at, t c… a t t gga : g t & a a at .
Closest match: Gonodactylellus affinis mitochondrion, complete genome Common name: Mantis shrimp
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supercutszns · 3 months
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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo
Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶
true colours; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader
synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.
warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending
notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈
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You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 
This year, there were two. 
As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 
You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.
Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 
It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 
It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 
Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 
Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 
Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”
(You came in fifteenth.)
You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?
It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 
“You alright there, sunshine?” 
He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 
“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.
You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  
The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 
Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 
“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 
Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 
They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”
He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”
Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 
So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 
You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 
Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”
It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 
Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.
Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 
“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 
You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”
He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 
“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 
Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 
You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 
If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 
"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 
You haven’t talked to him since. 
It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 
“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”
The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 
“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”
You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”
“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 
“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”
“Lee!”
“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.
You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”
“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.
The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 
“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”
There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 
“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 
“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 
“No to the first, yes to the second.”
You wish you said no to both. 
The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 
He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 
The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.
Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:
You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 
It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 
Luke, calling your name. 
At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”
He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”
There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 
His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 
“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”
His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.
“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 
“I’m not—”
“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 
He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 
“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 
His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”
“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”
“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 
“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”
“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”
There’s a lull.
“What?” You blink stupidly. 
“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”
His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”
A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”
His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”
“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."
You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.
“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 
The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”
“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 
“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”
The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”
“Not even a little.”
“But you’ve got so many other—”
“I want you.”
“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”
"Your knee is fine!"
"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"
“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”
It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 
He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.
“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”
Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”
He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”
You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.
“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”
Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 
In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.
When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.
She's given you two more rainbows.
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yxami · 5 months
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I imagine creep yandere to be attractive, he’s just a pathetic guy that brings dead animals because he has no sense of what’s romantic, what do you mean a dead bird isn’t cute?
People that have no clue of his reputation are quick to hit on him, and then as soon as he starts talking about taking picture of skulls in forests and looking for dead animals to preserve, they immediately want to get up and stutter out a lame excuse to escape.
At least you don’t ignore him? Sure you treat him with disgust but it’s not enough to deter him, he’s just a pretty boy who’s just a little too dense to get that you don’t like it when he brings dead critters to your door.
When you finally knock it in his head, he’s a little defeated yes, but he gets it, and now he’s collecting flowers and gorgeous shells that he thinks you’d like.
Sure he has to change his gift habits but at least this means you let him into your house.
You’re actually talking to him too!
“So, did you make this yourself?” You say surprised, shifting the flower crown with three of your fingers to look at it from all sides.
“Um.. yes” The suspicious amount of hesitation in his meek voice is eyebrow raising but you don’t ask about it.
He actually just paid a kid to make it because he has no grasp on arts and crafts if it doesn’t involve dead things.
Just a very pretty and dumb guy
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Note
Hey there!! I saw your post with a bunch of imagines about a father F/O :)
I was wondering if you could do the same kind of thing, but with a mother F/O? I'd appreciate that so much, thank you! ^^
Howdy!! Yes absolutely, I can and will do that :D!!! It might take me some time (~3 days) but when I make it, I'll tag you in the post if that's alright with you? Just let me know but yes, I'll make one :>! I'm so glad you stopped by to request it!
Tex
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novelbear · 3 months
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a dialogue list for angry love confessions
prompt list by @novelbear | very slight cw for cursing!
"if you can't figure it out by now, then i don't have anything else to tell you."
"i thought that if i did all of this and came all this way, it would finally click for you."
"come back to me when you figure it out."
"i am done. i'm done waiting for you."
"i'm in love with you, you dumbass."
"what the hell did you think i meant by that?"
"i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you."
"you knew. you knew i loved you and took full advantage of the fact that i'd do anything for you. and i knew that. i just kept at it hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
"i've been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn't see?"
"i dropped everything to be with you! everything!"
"why do i keep doing this to myself..."
"i'm not losing the one person i love because of some stupid shit."
"is that what you wanted to hear? are you happy?"
"what do you think i've been doing this for?"
"i had thought all of this would be so different for us."
"don't you want the same?"
"god, how blind can you be?"
"open your eyes!"
"i've wasted years of my life chasing after someone who couldn't give a fuck about me..."
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melzula · 2 months
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
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