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#”maybe a private corner somewhere a little quieter”
getawayfox · 1 year
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Soft snowflake kisses for @rockingrobin69 🤍
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sunsburns · 2 months
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[ nsfw 17+ ]
i’ve been thinking about frat boy!luke who tries to throw the biggest party the world has ever seen at least once a month. he's one of those guys who is actually convinced he can throw a party exactly like project x. but maybe even better (his words i swearr).
he’d even be corny enough to print out a bunch of invites and just throw them around the school so whoever’s interested can just show up.
and that's where you met him, at his biggest party yet. the party was already at full swing when you got there; music blaring through the speakers, colourful lights glowing from the open windows. students and crashers alike jumping to the music and holding red cups in their hands.
and then you catch his eye. he’s standing near the backyard, just walking back into the house to get more drinks when he spots you.
and yeah, you’ve had a class or two with him before, he might have asked you for a pencil once. you doubt he remembers you though.
but then one look turned into three, and the lingering stares from across the room, and knowing smiles, and nudges from friends continue.
you eventually bump into him on the dance floor, both tipsy. a drunk smile crosses your face as you wordlessly start to dance together.
what starts off innocent quickly turns into something more, your hands brush his arms, his hands find themselves comfortable on your sides, and they start to crawl to your waist, then your hips, and if you were a little braver, you might’ve grabbed his collar and kissed him then.
but instead, luke took your hand in his, and he leaned closer, close enough for him to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere a little more private. somewhere quieter, he said, so you could talk.
and you would’ve loved to talk to him, to get to know who the real luke castellan was, his interests, what he studies, where he’s from. but all those questions start to blur the moment you find yourself climbing up the stairs, turning corners and giggling behind him when he walks in on a couple fucking in the bathroom.
you barely remember what you want to ask him when he pushes you against a wall at the end of the hallway, music a little muffled, breaths a lot louder. and now you’re gasping into his mouth, your teeth crashing against his because there’s no coordination in your movements. one hand at the back of your neck to hold you while his tongue slips into your mouth.
and you’re both touching each other, hands wandering over clothes, fingers twitching to touch the warmth of skin, squeezing whatever there was to squeeze frantically.
your head spinning as his other hand pulls your leg up, up and up until you can wrap it around his hips, and he presses his crotch against yours. he tastes like cheap liquor and bad mistakes, and you try to ignore the way your stomach twists whenever he says your name (or at least something that sounds like it, maybe off by a syllable or two).
you bite his lower lip, tugging on it with your teeth and you let go to stare at him for just a second. he's a lot prettier up close. his big pouty lips, the scruff hair on his face. the way he smirks at you before pulling his cap off and placing it over your hair. “fit’s like a charm.”
you roll your eyes, “shut up.”
his hands find themselves under your shirt, cupping your boob and squeezing them gently as he sucks a bruise to your neck. you decide to take a leap and reach for his crotch, glancing down the hallway to make sure you’re away from peering eyes before you unbuckle his belt and grope him over his boxers.
it's all wreckless, and messy, where he tries to undo the buttons of your shorts but his fingers are trembling from you touching him. and while you’re not actually sure of what you’re doing, you love the noises luke is making, so you keep going.
he’s huffing into your neck, your ear, then back into your mouth, little whines that urge you to move faster, his black cap nearly slipping off your head.
“fuck- wait wait,” he sputters, pulling away from you.
you need to suck in a deep breath to clear your head. “what-?”
“you're in my calc class, right?”
“seriously?”
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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months
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please… - Part 4
Azriel x reader
a/n: happy to be back here again 🧈
word count: 3,968
-Part 3-
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You watch on with barely concealed distain as your father fumbles before the High Lord, allowing himself too much leeway on the invisible leash, consequently choking when it’s pulled taut. Probably another jab at the High Lord’s mate. His High Lady.
How obnoxious.
Away in an alcove, your mother watches on with equal distaste, enough to have you raising the glass to your mouth to conceal your grin. If only she wasn’t so awful.
As if sensing your lingering gaze, she turns her sharp, kohl-lined eyes in your direction. The smile vanishes in the blink of an eye, sipping slowly as you raise a brow. Her own narrow, flicking to the duo hidden in the shadows a little way from the foot of the dais, darkness coming alive in that corner.
You idly drag your gaze back to your mother’s, taking an intentionally deep sip from your drink. Her brows draw together in cold warning, contempt tightening her features at your indolence, but you break the connection and turn to the corner she’d ordered you to. Holding the Shadowsinger…and the Morrigan.
Softer than a summer’s breeze, quieter than a concealed hunter, you make your way into the darkness, crafting together a smile fitting of your court. “Sister,” you greet, sweeping over her analytically, picking out the thrum of waves that are quietly resonating from her outline, slowly deciphering them, pulling them apart to understand her rhythm. “Spymaster.” You hold still as their attention openly lands on you, taking you in swiftly, checking a mental list no doubt. An instinct installed in them from a young age, but one you have, too.
“How lovely of you to join us,” Mor drawls, lips sharpened into a cutting smile, holding her drink elegantly between two slim fingers, nails dipped in blood-red varnish. You offer her a cool smile in return, “it took me some time to find you. I should have known you’d both be lurking in the shadows somewhere.”
“It’s hard not to in a place like this,” Mor replies, eyes glinting as she gestures to the dimly lit room. Your own smile sharpens to a grin, preparing to drink as you raise the glass to your mouth. “And…Velaris, was it? Is it much better there?”
Her eyes flinch, exterior remaining calm and cool, unruffled except for the tell-tale truth of her gaze. The stuttering pulse of the air around her, fluttering in a way she can convince her heart not to. All for nothing, in the face of your magic. You take a sip of your drink, making a show of enjoying her resentful silence, the anger that’s tucked in the narrowing of her brows.
“It really would be lovely to visit sometimes,” you muse, watching how the air distorts with the gradual irritation of her emotion, still kept under lock and key in her features. Really, without your magic you’d be utterly clueless. “After all,” you continue, “it’s always you coming over to us. It would be rude not to return the favour. We can’t have our High Lord and lady constantly being the ones to put in the effort.”
“And are those your own wishes or whispers you’ve caught in hallways?”
You break your gaze with Morrigan, turning at last to meet the cold, unruffled eyes of the shadowsinger, looking as if he were carved from stone. So fitting to the Hewn City.
“Most of the rooms are warded,” you reply smoothly, “it would take some effort to overhear such a private conversation.” You take another calm sip of your drink. “But maybe I have.”
They aren’t as foolish as to exchange glances with one another, not even a shift in attention, but you know they mark the words carefully.
“Is there a spot you favour, Mor?” You ask, returning your attention to the female you share blood with. Between the two of them, her waves are the most unsteady. The only one who has ties to this place, who has memories that run as deep as the cave systems tunnelled within. “There must be much more choice on the outside. More people about, more places to wander, more fresh air to enjoy,” you muse, watching her from over the rim of your glass. The growing agitation of her waves. “Is the sun still blinding when you emerge from our darkness, Mor?”
Power thunders through the room, the very ground shaking and you whip around along with a few hundred other bodies in time to see a figure knelt on the stone floor before the dais. Your blood turns to ice, skin freezing over with fear at the intensity of the overwhelmingly dark power, how it suffocates the room, leeching the hall of air until every breath feels empty no matter how deeply you inhale.
Subconsciously you take a small step back, legs feeling unsteady though you force yourself to hold fast, to continue hauling air into your lungs no matter how pointless it feels. There are too many figures now crowded before you to see what’s going on, who it is that’s being punished for whatever transgression they committed, but you can hear the barely muffled sobs, the pained whimpers of fear rising from throughout the room. The hall, once smelling of berry wine and roasted meat sprinkled with herbs, is now contaminated with an edge of terror, sharp and tangy, enough to put you off eating for the rest of the night.
Through your peripherals you watch as Morrigan slinks off into the shadow, aiming to be closer to the dais, ready to pounce given the chance. It’s enough to set any sane person on edge.
Something brushes against your shoulder blades, and your spine turns rigid, the softest whisper of shadow pushing you upright again. A moment later it vanishes, hardly there for a second but enough to return the warmth to your blood, the colour to your skin. Your heart still thunders against your ribs, but you find no shame in it—not before the sheer display of power that’s inevitably brought out to remind your court of its place. At his feet.
A flicker of resentment stirs in your chest, brows pulling together over your eyes, jaw wound tight as you fix your gaze upon the raised thrones, high enough to survey the revelry—and to disrupt it at their pleasure.
A cold shadow again brushes your skin, but this time on your upper arm, a swift flick to get your attention and you turn in time to see him shift toward one of the hallways, much darker than usual. An invitation to follow. Though maybe by the way it wraps around your wrist, giving a firm tug, it might be more of an order.
With a last glance at the crowd, enraptured by the show of pain, feeding off another’s downfall and gleeful it’s not their own, you silently follow after him, stepping deeper into the concentrated depth of darkness that seems to constantly surround him.
It would probably serve as more of a threat if you hadn’t been born into shadow like his.
————
“What do you want?” You ask upon locking the door, having chosen a room you know to be warded against eavesdroppers.
“How much are you able to hear through passing conversation?” It’s a question, but one he’s phrased as a quiet demand, leaving little room for argument. You regard him warily, before walking over to the half circle of plush chairs arranged openly around a constantly lit fireplace, rugs on the floor the colour of blood and oranges. “I hear what I hear,” you reply cryptically, setting down into one of the chairs, secretly grateful you no longer have to stand, legs still feeling a little wobbly. The heels are also a little uncomfortable, but it’s a familiar pain, so one you know how to manage.
“Curious about some goings on, Shadowsinger?”
His features remain neutral, shadows thick as they roll from his shoulders, swirling between the great wings that loom at his back, cutting and intimidating figure. Maybe he would be scary if you didn’t know how soft his hands could be. How gentle. Your skin aches for another set of touches, to refresh the memory, to remind yourself of the sensation. To remind yourself people can be kind, even in a world of blood and stone.
“I would have thought you’d be eager to share information,” he says neutrally, alluding to the other exchanges you’ve had. Mutual benefits being reaped in private. “And I would have thought you’d have no need for extra intel,” you reply, keeping your attention on him as the flame from the fire is cast through the open room, light reflecting warmly from the large mirror that’s mounted atop the mantel. Sweet thing.
“I know what you want,” he reminds lowly, “and you know what I want. I’m sure you can see how this would be advantageous to both parties.” The air around him remains still and unbothered, calm and steady as usual. “You’re proposing this be a mutual exchange?” You specify. “Something regular?”
“Regular, but not frequent.”
“How often, then?” You ask, brows narrowing. Things in your court are delicate at best, volatile at worst. Casually overhearing tidbits is no skin off your back, but making the effort to hear things of use…especially information that might be sensitive, intel that if acted on could be traced back to you. He has no obligation to look out for you either, if things went south. No reason to help you out unless it would benefit him.
“I couldn’t say,” he replies idly. “Maybe days apart, maybe years. Whenever I seek details perhaps only you can find.”
“I’d rather not be subject to such a mercurial agreement,” you say dryly. “If you’re seeking particulars, I can work with that, but without a direction is too much.”
“What sort of things do you have in mind for particulars?” He asks, the air faintly simmering around him. “And give away the small advantage that I have? I think not.”
“Very well,” he replies, as if having expected the small resistance, “what do you know about your father’s intentions for Velaris?”
Your brows narrow, running your gaze over him, hands mostly concealed in shadow. “How much are you willing to give for that?”
“How much do you want?” He returns, evading the question. Neither of you break the connection, staring each other down though the focus isn’t malicious. More wary—slightly curious. Unsure of this possible development.
“I’ve had no time to thoroughly look into that specific topic,” you start cautiously, angling your head, “so I’ll settle for the usual amount.”
“How much do you have?”
“Some,” you reply vaguely. Again that slight tension rises, the potential to turn into something terse, but then the two of you remember there’s no underlying violence, and settle back to relatively normal behaviour. Not quite at ease, though.
He nods his head for you to start, but you pause, looking him over once more. Letting him know you aren’t entirely at his disposal. You still hold the power to withhold what he’s after. He gives no sign of impatience, nor irritation, just bland neutrality. So you lean back into the plush warmth of the chair, inclined to pull your legs up to your chest, but that would give the illusion of weakness, of mediocrity. But maybe it would be better for him to think less of you, so you follow through with your original wish, tucking yourself into a deep corner of the cushion.
“Some things I’m able to hear through simply being in the right place at the right time, more on the side of coincidence than anything intended. Snippets of conversation people are too lazy to think to cover, or sometimes just not important enough for secrecy,” you begin, and he leans back into the wall slightly, more so that his shadows are within reasonable distance than for comfort. It’s easier to slip into darkness when you’re near a corner than the middle of a room, after all.
“Other times, there are pieces one can only have the chance to overhear depending on who they are. As his daughter I’m allowed more access than most to various rooms—some I doubt even my sister knows exist, having lacked the agency to seek them out.” Like before, he makes no external shift of his expression, no obvious tell to his emotions, but the air shifts around him, as if disturbed by something. Like how the colours above flames twist and distort as heat ripples up.
“Then, there are the things that require somehow being able to listen through walls, through wards that are spun thicker than wool and tighter than chainlink armour,” you say, catching the hint of interest in the far depths of his hazel eyes, and you wonder if you’re granted access to that piece of him through his own will or whether it’s a side effect of having foraged so deep inside of his mind you reached the bones of his soul. Tattered, but remaining strong. “Those, are the pieces I think you’d be interested in. Correct?”
His mask shifts a little, allowing his brows to dip as he takes on what you’ve said. “You know a way to listen through wards?” He asks, eyes flicking to the perimeters of the room. “I highly doubt anyone else would be able to, Shadowsinger,” you reply. “I highly doubt you’d tell me if they could, were you acting on your parent’s behalf.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not.”
Another tense silence passes between you, tension rising then fading, simmering away, like a pot taken off the boil.
“You already know I preside over my father’s hoard of antiquities. Ancient things with nasty spells wrapped around them, sometimes even imbued with malice themselves, which is what makes them so dangerous, as I’m sure you’re aware.” The air flickers around him, and you smile faintly. “What did end up happening to that mirror?”
“That’s none of your concern,” he replies shortly.
“I hope you put it to good use.”
His brows narrow at your tone, more clipped than he’s ever heard it. Verging on stern.
“Kier’s trove?” He reminds, still keeping to the shadows. A smile twinkles in your eyes, a little menacing. “There are all sorts of things in there—things that he really should be making more use of,” you answer wryly. The Shadowsinger remains quiet, inviting you to continue, and you settle more comfortably into the armchair. “You’d be surprised how useful some of the items in there are, once you known how to use them properly.”
“The Veritas?” He asks.
“Can repeat moments from memory, but can also record events as they happen, stored away in a secret pocket of time,” you smile, and wariness threads through his bones. “There were some interesting new moments captured within it when your returned that orb, that I doubt you knew could be accessed by me—or anyone, for that matter, if they knew how.”
“What are you talking about?” Azriel mutters lowly, shadows flickering at his back, agitation thickening in the air as the waves around him stutter.
“It’s a rather effective way of peering into someone else’s life,” you muse, “like a spyglass. I’m sure you would love to know how it works. It’s a shame the Veritas is so precious, or it would be a handy thing to leave lying about in your enemies’ rooms—see what they get up to behind closed doors.”
“What did you see?”
“Did I say that I saw?”
“It’s unwise to play games you don’t understand the rules of.”
“And here I thought we were on the same side, now you’re threatening me?”
“We have an agreement. Do not mistake that for sharing a side.”
“But we have a mutual enemy, doesn’t that put us exactly there?”
He pauses, and you watch as the shadows stretch along the walls, much further than they ought to be capable of. “I have no guarantee you aren’t under Kier’s thumb,” he says lowly, “though I suppose a quick look from our High Lord could sort that out.”
“Funny, I didn’t get the impression he would do something like that. Just going off how you all acted in the presence of the mortal queens.”
“So you did look.”
“I was curious,” you reason, smiling faintly.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“But satisfaction brought it back,” you remind, still smiling, more feline than before. “How do you think I came to know so much about my father’s trove? A comprehensive manual listing every little detail for every little object?”
“You’d have to be insane to meddle with age-old artefacts.”
“Or just bored to tears,” you counter. “So little happens down here, can you blame me?”
“So you decided to go and poke at ancient relics? Some that date back to prerecorded history?”
“And now you get to share in all the knowledge I’ve acquired, isn’t that wonderful. I’d have thought you’d be flying to the moon and back at getting to expand your web of informants.”
He stares at you silently, an unreadable look on his lovely face. “I’m assuming you won’t freely hand over that information, though.” You smile faintly, choosing to remain quiet. “And how much does your father know about the objects in his possession?” Azriel asks carefully.
“About the same as you do, probably.”
“Why have you chosen to keep it from him?” He inquires, hazel eyes more alert than usual. It seems you’ve successfully piqued his interest. “Surely handing over even fractions of everything you supposedly know would put you in his favour.”
“And what benefits would I get from being in his favour?” You return, amusement fading.
Azriel angles his head, the light from the fire warming the smooth planes of his features. “You tell me.”
“I think I’ve told you quite enough,” you reply lowly, “pay up.”
Something glints in his hazel eyes, the edges of his mouth curving ever so slightly, before he’s stepping back into the shadow, swallowing him whole. You bolt up in the chair, spine straightening as you lean over the arm, but he’s already vanished. Gotten out. Left you alone within the heavy stone room that no amount of fire is able to truly warm.
Your mask slips away, brows curving slightly, lips parting in quiet sorrow as a soft breath has your shoulders sloping with despondency.
Scar-roughened hands slip gently beneath your jaw, softly but firmly guiding you to lean back against the chair, tipping your chin slightly to gaze into deep hazel, the firelight refracting through the array of colours. His fingers run along the bone, raising to the spot beneath your pointed ear as he holds you still, keeping enough distance between his touch and your throat for you to ease. You may crave comfort in the form of physical connection, but the feeling of hands around your neck…never again.
“You could have just walked over,” you manage softly, staring up at him, tall enough to lean over the top of the large armchair. “I could have,” he agrees, “but you needed a reminder of your codependency.”
Your brows furrow, but he lightly applies pressure to the soft hollow on the underside of your mouth, and you lean back into the seat, eyes content to close. It’s such a rare gift, you can’t bring yourself to deny yourself of it from any angle. You need to let the touch sink into your skin, to memorise how it feels, how the warmth seeps in and remains for a little without the stinging pain of leather, or the harsh bite of metal.
His fingers trace up the arch of your ear, light as feathers as you raise into the touch, so desperately seeking more. Your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, deepening with surprising swiftness, falling into the heat of his hands as they soothe your senses.
“What are your father’s intentions for Velaris,” he murmurs quietly, sliding the palm of his right hand fully beneath your jaw, letting the heat sink in, marking how your breathing stutters ever so slightly. “He’s only mentioned it a few times,” you mumble, basking in the heaven of his hands. “What has he said?” He prompts, raising his left palm to brush hair back from your cheek, to stroke over the crown of your head, lulling you into spilling more secrets. “He’s said it’ll be a chance to expand his reach,” you mumble, “something about buying up precious commodities and reselling them elsewhere, to slowly decrease trade…I couldn’t hear all of it…”
Azriel’s brow narrows at the revelation, making a mental note to report that back to Rhys. “What else?” He asks, hands both sliding beneath your jaw, cupping it lightly as his thumbs slowly drag over the skin just below your cheek bones, pressing hotly into the hinges, the muscle making your eyelids flutter at the slightly ticklish sensation. “Something about…being able to keep an eye on Mor… Knowing she wouldn’t like sharing her home with them,” you answer wearily, softening beneath fatigue and the soothing touches. “Reminding her she can’t escape.”
“And what about Kier’s trove,” he pushes, shadows pushing into the chair with you, and you shudder lightly, fingers trembling. He can hear the flutter of your pulse, see how your lips have parted to hand over the information for a few more seconds. “He keeps it locked away,” you murmur in answer, “the really precious things, at least.”
“What can they do?”
“I…” You trail off, body losing its tension, muscles relaxing into the encompassing warmth. “I can’t tell you.”
“Yes you can,” he whispers, hand again shifting to stroke against your hair—so softly, so sweetly. Not even the slightest suggestion of pain in his touch. So cruel.
But your eyes slide open, pupils wide and blown out, readjusting swiftly to the dim light of the room. “I think that’s enough for this time,” you manage quietly, tone shaky, “can’t have you bleeding me dry in one go.”
Azriel’s brow narrows, but then he’s pulling away, your skin already feeling cooler without the comfort of his touch and shadows.
“Keep an ear out for Velaris,” he instructs, hands settling over the top of the seat so you have to remain looking upward. Azriel considers mentioning also keeping an eye out for Eris, but he’ll start you off with one task. See how you manage it, before guiding your attention to other areas of your court.
“And what should I do once I acquire more?” You ask, and he notes the certainty in your tone. As if you somehow have a guarantee you’ll be able to discover more. Maybe there really are some dangerous things in Kier’s trove, thankfully left unknown to him. For now.
“I will find you,” he replies shortly, at last stepping back from the seat, shifting to his shadowy corner. “You stay focused on one thing at a time.”
“Any artefacts you want to know more about?” You ask, and he can hear the mirth in your voice without having to see your expression.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” he reminds, leaning against the wall. “This agreement only works if you’re alive.”
“And in this world,” you add, a touch quieter than before. He doesn’t like how lightly you speak about meddling with those objects—can only hope that you of all people will know when you’re about to take a step too far.
He doesn’t reply, simply looking you over one last time before vanishing into the darkness. Leaving you to ponder the new developments.
And how much longer you can take before having to return to the great hall. Feet still aching.
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy
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please… taglist: @hyemishii @darling006
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luciferism · 6 months
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[ "Lunch Time is Sneaky Time" ]
Solomon x AFAB!Reader
Summary: basically you and Solomon having a quickie in an empty classroom after not having sex for weeks during lunch
Tags: 18+, one shot smut, explicit language, semi-public sex, quickie, creampie, penis in vagina sex, empty classroom, table sex
Word Count: 3.1K words
[ Masterlist ] | [ Archive of Our Own ]
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You and Solomon are at a secluded corner of the RAD cafeteria, away from the hustle and bustle of the main lunchtime crowd. You two are sitting a little too closely to each other, and you keep stealing glances at each other for a bit too long, almost as if you have a secret to share.
Solomon leans in closer to you, your faces only inches apart. He reaches out and strokes your hair playfully, and whispers in your ear:
"It's been a while since I've done something I wasn't supposed to... You know what I mean?" He runs a finger down the back of your neck, and chuckles softly.
Solomon takes a moment to think, looking at you with a little smile on his face. Then, he leans in a little closer and whispers in your ear, his breath tickling your neck.
"It's a shame we're not allowed to cuddle at the lunch table... I'd love to hold you in my arms right now."
You feel your heart skip a beat as Solomon's warm breath sends tingling sensations down your spine.
Solomon's smile grows a little wider as he notices your reaction. You definitely feel something. Then, he lightly brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
"You are so beautiful... I've been wanting to tell you that for a while now."
You feel your face heat up as Solomon's words make your heart race. You find yourself leaning in closer, your faces just inches apart now.
Solomon continues whispering, his gaze still locked on you. He takes one of your hands and starts to caress it gently, still whispering while he does so.
"And that's not all I'd like to do with you..."
His other hand travels up your body, slowly moving up towards your neck, before coming to rest beneath your chin.
"If we weren't in public... I would do everything in my power to make you mine..."
Solomon leans in again, this time brushing his soft lips against your neck. He caresses your cheek gently, and he whispers seductively in your ear again.
"How about we take this somewhere more private? We could have some alone time together."
You tremble beneath Solomon's touch, your cheeks blushing deeply. You can't help but wonder what Solomon has in mind for the both of you.
You look down on the table to hide your blushing face, you feel so hot and bothered already after a few gentle caresses of Solomon's hands and seductive whispering.
You press your thighs together under the table to ease your throbbing core, your uniform skirt sways ever so slightly under the table. You look back at Solomon with a knowing grin on your face. You just can't resist Solomon's charms.
"And where would that be?" You whisper back as your eyebrow raises.
Solomon's smile widens, and he leans in closer again. He puts one of his hands on your bare thigh, and he strokes you softly with his thumb.
"Somewhere no one else can join us... Like my dorm room."
You could practically melt under Solomon's touch, and try to steady your breathing as you looked at him seductively. Your heart races, and every nerve in your body is on fire with desire.
"Dorm room sounds boring." You smirk, playing Solomon's game a little harder.
Solomon raises an eyebrow, his smug grin still plastered on his face, noticing that you are trying to push his buttons a little. He leans in even closer, and his voice grows quieter as he speaks.
"Then maybe we could find someplace more exciting.. somewhere we could enjoy each other's company in a more intimate way."
You can feel the desire rising in your body once again, and you move your leg ever so slightly, to give Solomon a better access to your inner thighs.
Solomon's smile widens even more, grinning even, and he moves his hand higher up your thigh. He slides his hand along your warm skin, and he leans in even closer again. His warm, seductive breath tickles your neck, and you can't help but groan as his touch sends waves of pleasure through your body.
"How does that sound, my love?" He whispers seductively in your ear.
You gasp, your heart racing even faster. You can barely contain the heat rising within you, and you lean in closer to Solomon.
"I don't think I can wait that long, Sol." You softly sigh as you control the jolts of your legs.
Solomon chuckles, his smile still growing. He pulls you closer, until you're facing each other with barely any space in between. He strokes your chin gently with his free hand, and his voice becomes even more seductive.
"Oh, I don't think I can either. I think we just need a little bit of privacy." He brushes a lock of hair away from your face, and he leans in ever so slightly, your faces inches away from each other now.
Solomon's breath quickens as he looks into your eyes. The two of you are so close together now, and you can feel your heart racing as blood rushes to your face. Solomon's voice becomes even lower, and almost a whisper.
"I want you so badly right now." He whispers, his breath and lips tickling your ear.
You moan softly as you hear those words, and your heart beats even faster. Solomon can see the desire building in your eyes, and he moves even closer to you, your lips hovering inches away from each other.
"We can teleport somewhere…" You suggest with a bashful expression on your face.
Solomon smiles again, his voice low and husky. He draws you closer, until your faces are almost touching. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you look up at Solomon anxiously. His touch is so soothing, yet it makes your skin tingle with excitement.
"What if I told you I want you right now?" He gently kisses the side of your lips lightly.
"Not here, Sol…" You sigh softly.
Your breathing goes heavier by the second, you keep your head resting on the table as if you look like a sick person. Some students from the farther tables are glancing at the both of you but quickly turn away their gaze.
"Solomon, no. Let's go somewhere there's little or no people, please." You beg, your voice shaking.
"All right." Solomon looks around the cafeteria, his attention briefly distracted by the glance from the other students. After a moment, his eyes return to you.
"There's an empty classroom just down the hall from here. If you'd like, we could go there and have some privacy."
Your heart races, and the heat in your body grows even stronger as Solomon touches your face and brushes your hair away from your eyes.
"Lead the way." You nod, thrilled. You smile at Solomon as you sit back up properly.
Solomon takes your hand, and he stands up slowly. He looks around carefully, making sure that no one is watching you both.
"This way, my love." He leads you out of the cafeteria, and you follow him down the hall. You pass by a few students on the way, but no one suspects a thing. Finally, you reach the empty classroom, and Solomon opens the door for you. He whispers to you softly as he looks at you.
"I've been looking forward to this." He confessed. His eyes are trained on your thighs and up your breasts.
You enter the empty room and Solomon closes and locks the door behind him.
"Me too, Sol. It's been too long since–" You were cut off as Solomon suddenly kissed you.
You gasp softly as Solomon's lips meet yours, your heart beating faster than ever. The kiss is tender, and you can feel the warmth of his body against your own. You melt in his arms, and your tongues wrap together, your breath mixing. Solomon pulls you closer, and your body trembles with passion. He pulls back only for a moment, to whisper into your ear.
"You feel so incredible... I don't want to let go."
Solomon's body is pressed against yours, and his mind is spinning with desire. He breathes softly as he leans more into the kiss, his hands gently caressing your face. His movements are slow, but his touch is gentle.
"It's been far too long… I miss you."
He pulls you even closer, and your bodies are now pressed up against each other. He pulls your body towards him, and his hands slide down your arms, your back, and into your hair. Your lips still locked together, he holds you tightly. In that short bracket of time, he has already unbuttoned a few buttons of your uniform.
Solomon's grip on your body grows tighter as you kiss. His touch is full of passion and desire, one of his hands squeezing your breast like a stress ball, and his tongue meets you in the embrace. Your lips move passionately, and you feel his body pressed firmly against yours.
"I thought I would never get to do this again..." He breathes heavily.
You wrap your arms around Solomon's neck and pull yourself towards him. You can feel his warmth, and your heart is pounding in your chest as you kiss him passionately. You pull Solomon closer, and the two of you lean against the door of the empty classroom.
Your eyes shut as you relish the moment, enjoying the feeling of Solomon's tongue inside your mouth - licking and tasting everything inside.
"Mmm... Solomon…"
You hum into the kiss as you initiate in unbuttoning Solomon's uniform after losing his tie. You pull away, looking directly into Solomon's piercing eyes, signaling Solomon to take this further.
Solomon is breathing heavily as he watches your movements. His thoughts are a whirlwind of pure lust and passion. He leans in again and kisses you even more fervently, his fingers weaving deep into your hair as his free hand sneaks under your lace bra – kneading your soft breast under his warm palm.
"You are so sweet and delicious, I want you so badly..."
Solomon's voice is almost a whisper, and he watches your eyes closely. Your body moves against his in a seductive way, and his hands slide down your body. Solomon pushes your back against the wall, and he leans in closer to kiss your neck.
Your hair is disheveled, your blouse is opened — exposing your cleavage at Solomon's disposal — and your eyes shut as Solomon kisses and nibbles on your neck. You quietly moan and gasp to reduce suspicion from the outside.
"Take me, Solomon. I want you too as much."
Solomon's heart races as he hears your words, and his movements become quicker and more passionate. He reaches down with one hand and unbuttons the rest of your blouse, and he slides it off of you, leaving only your skirt and your panties.
His eyes are filled with desire and lust as he slowly moves his hand upward, touching your bare skin. Solomon places you gently on a nearby table without breaking the kiss. He looks at you, watching your breathless expression and hearing the gasps and moans. He leans in and kisses your shoulder, his other hand slowly moving up your body towards your chest.
"Don't you worry... I want you as much as you want me."
He pulls your body even closer to his, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and your hands grabbed onto his shoulders to brace yourself. He leans in again and whispers teasingly in your ear again. He removes your legs around his waist and spreads your thighs as he hooks one of your knees on his shoulder, exposing your wet panties and dripping cunt to him, as he lifts up your skirt.
"I'm going to take you. I don't even know if I can wait another second." His breathing is labored.
You nod eagerly. You look at Solomon intently, who is now blushing - furiously red. You gasp as you feel Solomon's fingers tracing your lace panties and brushes it aside, exposing your wet pussy.
"Ah... I'm ready." You moan at his touch, spreading your legs a little wider.
You shut your eyes, feeling Solomon's tip brushes against your hardened warm clit, as you wait for him to finally fill you with his cock. Solomon sighs softly, his voice getting even lower and huskier as he looks at you, who is now blushing furiously.
"I think I'm ready too, love."
There is a twinkle of excitement in Solomon's eyes as they gaze at your flushed face, your bare skin, your soaked pussy. His fingers caress you gently, and his hands slowly move up and down to your slick folds and pinching at flicking your clit. You moan louder but soon control your voice again.
"Ah! Ohh…" You moan and sigh respectively.
He wants to play with you for longer but the lunch break seems to be ending soon. Solomon's breath is steady and soft as he looks at you and whispers to you.
"Are you ready? Are you ready to be mine?"
"Yes... yes... please." You move your head sideways, back and forth, as you feel Solomon slowly fills you in. You arch your back, your eyes roll, your body shakes at the gradually increasing pleasure.
Solomon looks down at you as he slowly enters you, his face flushed with desire. He caresses you gently, and he speaks softly yet seductively.
"You are so beautiful... you belong only to me."
You can feel Solomon moving inside you, and his touch sends waves of pleasure through your entire body. You arch your back, your head rolling back to your side, your eyes half closed, your body melting beneath Solomon. Your breaths become rapid and shallow, and you feel the pace of his thrusts increase, hitting the pleasure spots inside your walls.
"You feel so good…" Solomon softly moans.
Solomon leans in to kiss you passionately as he thrusts fast yet gently. He strokes your hair and caresses your face, his movements slowly increasing with intensity. Your body quivers and trembles, and you pull Solomon closer to you, your bodies pressed together tightly.
"I want you so much. You don't even know..." He grunts and sighs in between his words.
Your breath quickens, and your heart pounds in your chest. You gasp, and your body trembles with pure ecstasy, your eyes wide open with excitement.
You moan louder which is immediately muffled by Solomon's mouth. His tongue entered your mouth in an attempt to keep you from being loud, which somehow kind of worked.
"Mmm... mmm…" You whimper and moan, feeling Solomon's tongue swirl inside your mouth.
You breathe through your nose as Solomon's mouth covers yours. You buckle your hips upwards, spreading your legs wider, while your hands grab his lower back to make Solomon hit deeper inside in every thrust.
"Ah... Mmm…" Your body quivers against Solomon, your breath quickening.
"Oh, God... You feel so good. You're so tight..." Solomon's voice is slightly heavier now, and he leans in and kisses you again, his arms wrapping around you as he presses his body against yours.
Solomon moans softly as he kisses you passionately, his fingers tightening around your waist, gripping you closely. He pulls you even closer to him, and his body moves firmly against yours in rhythm.
"You feel so good.. I can't control myself." Solomon gasps sharply.
"Solomon... I'm so close! Don't stop!" You beg as your climax nears.
Solomon continues the movement, and he whispers softly to you with a voice full of desire.
"I'm so close too. Don't stop... We are so close, my love."
The touch of your body drives him wild, and his movements increase in intensity. His breathing is getting heavier now, and he moans softly as he moves. His thrusts become deeper and more intense, each time your body arches and quivers. Solomon's breath is heavy as he enjoys your body, pulling you closer and closer to him.
"Oh... you feel so good…"
Solomon leans down and kisses you deeply again, while his body thrusts firmly against yours. He watches you closely, seeing your eyes shut, your body trembling and moving against his, your breath becoming shallow with every stroke. Solomon kisses you passionately, his tongue entering and teasing your mouth.
"So hot..."
He moves his fingers to caress your aching clit and his touch becomes more intense, as he continues to thrust mercilessly inside you. You squirm uncontrollably, your breasts jiggle back and forth in every thrust of Solomon's hips.
"Ahh! Solomon... Oh God!"
Your body convulses, your back arches higher and your hands grab the edge of the table. You had just had an intense toe curling climax ever since the last time you did it inside Solomon's bedroom. Your eyes turn white as you roll them so hard, tears of pleasure drop down your face. Your muscles contract rapidly around Solomon's cock, forming a white circle of thick liquid around its base as you release.
Solomon's body tenses up, the pleasure becoming overpowering. He moans softly as your body convulses, and your hands grip the table tightly. He can feel his climax coming soon, and he moves even faster.
"Ahh..."
Solomon moans softly, and his eyes close briefly in an electrifying pleasure. He leans his head down, still deep inside you as he releases all of his semen, filling you up, and he kisses your shoulder. Solomon breathes deeply and slowly, his voice husky and breathless, as he continues to twitch inside you.
"That was... you don't... even realize how beautiful you are. This was... unbelievable."
Solomon's voice trails off, and he looks down at you with shining eyes, as if he's in awe of what just happened.
Solomon sighs softly as the two of you catch your breaths. The room is quiet, and for a moment they look at each other intently. Solomon's eyes meet your flushed face, and he caresses your face gently.
"Did you enjoy that, my love?"
Solomon smiles softly as he watches you, his breath still a little heavy. You look at him with dreamy eyes, your body still trembling slightly.
"I love it, thanks." You softly chuckle.
Solomon's eyes twinkle with amusement as he moves a little closer to you, his body pressed against yours gently.
"We will have to do it more often, I think."
Solomon's touch is sweet and tender, and he strokes your face again. His voice is husky and sexy.
"And next time, I want to take my time... I want to savor the moment with you."
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rockingrobin69 · 1 year
Text
Beauty
It dawned on him somewhere between dental care and condiments. Felt like it, an actual dawn: fragile and colourful and hesitant, growing surer, growing fast. By the time he reached breads it was thrumming in his chest, loud, distracting. Draco picked a loaf, seeing nothing and everything.
Then put it back down. Harry liked the grainy ones better. But his hand was shaking something awful as it reached for the shelf, and it all felt absurd and momentous and childish, felt ridiculous. Bum-bum-bum, heart racing. All the magnitude of a breakthrough, in their local Aldi on a Wednesday evening. With the list crumpled in his hand, they needed olive oil. And salt. And maybe a private corner, somewhere a little quieter. Somewhere he could think. Could try to… breathe through this unreasonable lump in his throat.
“Found your biscuits,” Harry announced in his ear, and the whole world titled with it: delicate pink lit bright gold. Draco gulped and gulped. Still couldn’t do anything else but wrap around him, arm around his waist, head on Harry’s shoulder. “Baby? Are you—”
“Fine,” he rasped, shaky-shaky list shoved in Harry’s face, a deterrent and a reminder. “Salt, we need…”
A gasp punched out of him with Harry’s movement, spinning them around till all he could see was a pair of laughing eyes. “I’ll tell you what we need,” Harry said, making no sense and far too gentle.
“Yes?” more air than a word, huffed on Harry’s cheek. In the middle of the bread aisle, shopping cart nudged in his hip, cheery music blasting through the speakers.
“I…” he stopped, chewed on his bottom lip. Looking at Draco, just looking at him, like he could see the horizon dappled in light. Or like he could see him under the white neon glare, hair untied and flushed cheeks, see how real it all was on a Wednesday evening in Aldi, how mad and how wonderful.
“Here,” Harry said. Offered the pack of biscuits. “This, we need this.” Shy all of a sudden, timid. Draco shook his head. Took the other hand, the empty one.
“This.”
He could almost see it, a glimmer reflecting in Harry’s eyes.
“You’re such a fucking—” he grunted, coming close to rest his forehead against Draco’s. Blurry and beautiful. “C’mon. Let’s get salt. Then home?”
“Home,” Draco smiled, basking in it. In this light he felt beautiful, too.
A little end-of-the-year gift to my beloved @getawayfox​. You create such beauty, bring it to life with your words, with your art, with your baking and with your endless kindness. And you see it, too, in the world and in others. My darling, I adore you to the moon and back. And love you with my whole heart. 
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kpopjust4u · 2 years
Text
Lyric Scenario - I like your face
Post Date: 26th October 2022 Content: Suggestive - Kim Woosung x Reader WC: 0.7K TW?: Mentions of alcohol/ Making out Request?: Yes
Masterlist                                    Prompt list
Lyric references are highlighted in bold
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Woosung catches you out of the corner of his eyes at the bar, drink in hand as he hums to himself, liking the view of you that he was getting. You stand out to him in the middle of the crowd, no one catching his attention quite like you're doing.
You were a regular at his bar, and it was a happy surprise to him that you turned up once again, happy enough that he was going to get the chance to speak to you.
Of course, you knew who he was, who didn't? You purposely go to this bar just to get some eye candy from the guy you thought would never give you the light of day until tonight.
Realising he's walking over towards you, your heart flutters as the faintest shade of pink flushes your cheeks, luckily enough you had already put a bit of blush on so it wasn't so noticeable.
"Back again?" he smirks, signalling to the barman to get you a refill of your drink, free of charge of course as he generously hands it over to you the second it's made.
You're heart stops for a moment, not realising he's noticed you in here before, you guessed he remembers a lot of his regular's faces but this time, it was different. Tiny whispers hiss around you, people stopping in their tracks to see what their favourite bar owner is doing with a girl like you.
"Ah, look at that. All eyes on you," he scoffs, and with a flick of his fingers, the place goes back to normal, wanting it to be as private between you as possible in the middle of the bar.
"Thank you, for the drink," you shyly reply, switching your gaze between the drink in your grasp and his handsome face, his features perfectly proportioned on his face, it was sickening.
He smiles at you, winking at you as he slowly sips out of his own glass, you follow suit by taking a sip of yours, hands trembling slightly as your breath does the same.
"I hear your breath trembling, do I make you nervous?" his cocky tone makes your spine shiver, biting your lip slightly as you try your best to ignore it.
All of a sudden, you're pulling in close to him with his hand firm on your waist, "How would you like to go somewhere quieter, more private maybe?".
As much as you wanted to do so, your nerves get the best of you, wondering what people would think of you if you had left with him, "I should really get going soon".
He clicks his tongue, leaning in close to you, "Come on girl, I'm sure you don't need to leave now, no need to hurry," his voice like butter making your pant a little.
The temptation is there and he knows it, taking your hand as he directs you out of the bar, into the staff only second towards his office.
When the door closes behind you, he sets his drink down on his desk, looking at you like you were the most perfect person in the world, his hand reconnects to your hip, the other hand joining on the opposite side.
Looking at your lips, he bites his own, "I like your face, your red lips like cherry," he whispers, face inching closer to your own, your mind racing as you were tempted to close it fully.
You didn't have to worry about that the second his lips connected with yours and you really couldn't fight it, indulging at the moment and any worries of this being the worst decision in your life were non-existent as long as he had his lips on yours.
As your lips mould together, tongues swirling around each other, you're guided towards the desk being pressed against it as you're hoisted up onto it, the kiss turning heated the second he lifts your leg around his waist.
He breaks from the kiss for a moment, a smirk plastered on his face, his voice deep but smooth, "I've been waiting for this moment, to see your flashy kissing skills. Maybe, before the night is over, we could share a very special moment".
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Tags: @scuzmunkie , @ateezreactionsandscenarios , @trashlord-007 , @fanfictrashlord-007
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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years
Note
Hey it’s me again :D!
I was wondering, could we get a mermaid reader x eivor? Like when she goes to Ireland for the DLC, “wrath of the druids” and ends up meeting a very pretty mermaid lady?
And, maybe.. the mermaid could be a bit, chubby? Perhaps? 😳
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notes: this seems like I have a thing against Eivor and mermaids but I promise it's just because she gives me a chance to talk about different sorts of merfolk bc I find them so interesting lol. Merrows are merfolk from Irish mythology and I'd recommend looking into them, they're very interesting and have quite a bit in common with selkies! Also I'm more than happy to write about a chubby reader! I want my readers to feel represented in my work as much as possible, you're all beautiful and deserve to see yourselves represented with your favs <3
pairing: f! Eivor x merrow! Reader
word count: 1.8k
☾ ⋆゚  MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM
The woman in red
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Eivor had arrived in the port of Dublin, the settlement bustling with people and green hills rolling across the horizon. The journey had been much easier than her voyage to England from Norway and, being accustomed to travelling by boat, she found herself faring much better than many of the traders on board. However, she had the sharpened senses of the drengr that she was and she knew that someone had been following her, watching her, she could feel it. 
The sensation had started once the boat hit Irish waters and it hadn’t stopped since. Eivor kept her senses about her in case she had managed to draw any unwanted attention to herself already. The shieldmaiden had continued to go about her business in Dublin, noticing that the feeling had vanished for a while as she moved into the town but it seemed to resurface come nightfall. 
That was when she spotted you in her peripheral and she kept you there. It was the bright red of your cloak that had drawn her attention to you. She could see very little of you under the cover of the cloak and decided that she would lure you somewhere quieter to interrogate you about what you wanted. 
Which is how you now found yourself being pushed to a wall when you rounded the corner after the blonde shieldmaiden. 
“What the fuck do you-” She cut herself off mid-sentence when she looked upon you. You had eyes that glittered like sunlight dancing water, a full, radiant face like the moon and skin rosy like dawn. “I- I’m sorry.” She stuttered out, taking her arm away from where she had been pinning you to the wall, stumbling back a step. You were utterly beautiful and she felt as though you had placed an enchantment upon her. 
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” You replied, “I should have spoken up sooner but I wasn’t sure how, you just… You’ve caught my attention and won’t seem to let it go.” You smiled sheepishly and Eivor found it very endearing. 
“Oh?” 
“Well, we’ve been getting a lot of new people in these parts and so many of you have such stories to tell! You have to look of someone of legends and I can’t help but want to know more about you.” Your voice seemed to put the blonde deeper under your enchantment. Your tone was like a melody composed of silk and honey, of sunsets and harvest moonlight. She thought of you as otherworldly, unaware of just how accurate that could be. 
“Well, I’d be more than happy to indulge your curiosity over a drink.” She flashed a charming smile and you pushed your red hood down to smile up at her in return. 
“I’d enjoy that very much.” 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You found yourself waking in an unfamiliar inn the next day. Usually, you would have returned home by now or met up with some of your cousins and sisters to return home together but you had found yourself enraptured by Eivor and all the stories she had to tell. Over drinks, the two of you had moved closer and closer together until her lips were on yours (or yours were on hers) and the two of you felt the need to take things somewhere more private. 
Eivor had offered to buy you breakfast at the inn and you readily accepted, the two of you eating together before you had to part ways as she had a busy day ahead of her. You wished her well and told her that you hoped to cross paths again with her soon. Later in the day, Eivor found that the feeling of being watched had returned to her but she couldn’t spot you nor your red cloak anywhere. Needing some things to trade with, the shieldmaiden had gone further down the river to try her luck with fishing. 
That’s when she saw it. 
It was a hideous looking creature, the colour of seaweed with the face of a fish with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Its hair resembled kelp and hung wildly about its body. Arms with one joint too many reached towards Eivor from the water, claws slashing through the air. Eivor stumbled backwards and away from the water in shock, dropping her fishing line in favour of grabbing her axe instead but the creature pursued her, crawling onto the riverbank. It had no legs but a fish’s tail instead with fins that ended in barbs. It was a horrific sight to behold and she slashed at the creature but it moved unpredictably, much like an animal and it grabbed her by the ankle, tugging her towards it with unexpected strength that sent Eivor flying backwards and hitting the ground. She fought and thrashed as it dragged her into the water but it was to no avail and she soon found herself in utter darkness, floating, unable to breathe and yet not drowning. 
Shadows flitted about in the water and bones littered the floor, she could just about make out other structures around her, like twisted cocoons of thorns, with arms waving out of them, a silent cry for help. Where was she? As her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, a face appeared from between the gaps in the cage, the awful face of the creature that had brought her here. She tried to speak but couldn’t get much out around the water except for garbles. Something supernatural must be happening here and suddenly Eivor longed for Valka’s wisdom and guidance. 
Eivor shot away from the creature, pushing herself backwards through the water and it cackled, seemingly amused at her fright, before swimming off elsewhere. She needed to find a way out of here. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Hours passed and all of the shieldmaiden’s attempts to escape were fruitless. She began to feel hopeless, like she would never know freedom again, until a light appeared from the darkness in the form of your radiant face. Where she had not been able to break free from the confines of the cage, you tore them away with little effort and thrust your hand in her direction, a plea for her to take it. Eivor reached for the lifeline that you held out before her and, in moments, the two of you were speeding upwards through the water, light starting to break through. 
With her surroundings brightening, Eivor could now see that, like the creature who had abducted her, you also lacked legs. However, unlike the creature, your tail was beautiful and composed of shimmering scales that put emeralds to shame. You had long fins in bright red that hung at your hips as you pulled her through the water and Eivor found herself wrapping her arms around you as you raced her towards safety. Your body was soft in her arms and she held you tight as water rushed past the two of you, feeling the softness of the plump flesh about your waist. 
Breaking the surface felt like breathing for the first time all over again and the blonde found herself spluttering out water as you led her towards the coastline. The coastline?! How far had that creature dragged Eivor downstream?! When she was sitting on a stony beach with the waves lapping at her ankles, you pulled your fins up around your shoulders and Eivor watched as they morphed into your cloak and your tail vanished, bare legs withdrawing into the coverage of your cloak. 
“Are you alright?” You asked in a panic, “Did he hurt you? I’m so, so sorry, this is all my fault, I should have been more careful when I sneaked off up the river.” You had tears in your shimmery eyes and Eivor could only look up at you in wonder. You were not human but you were as enchanting as when she saw you for the first time yesterday and she was sure that you had just saved her life. 
“No, he didn’t and it’s not your fault, it’s alright.” She tried to reassure you as she sat up, shivering in her wet clothes. “But what… what are you? What was that creature?” 
“We are merrows, merfolk or Ireland.” You explained, “The males of our kind are… cruel and grotesque so we,” There was a somewhat sarcastic emphasis on the word, “tend to prefer human males over those of our own kind.” Your change in tone suddenly made more sense as Eivor reflected on the previous night, “Males of our kind like to trap unsuspecting sailors in the soul cages, where I just rescued you from, or to attack us females’ partners out of jealousy or spite because we do not desire them.”
“But you have a taste for human women.” Eivor highlighted and you blushed at her words bashfully and nodded your head in agreement before coaxing her to her feet. You suspected that being in a soul cage was a lot to process and she would rather talk about what she did understand now before reflecting on being trapped later, when she was more comfortable and recovered from the shock of it all. 
“Come, there is a cave nearby where some of us keep our human clothes and we can start a fire to warm you up.” You helped Eivor to her feet and led her to your hiding place where she took her pick of clothes while you started a fire and dressed yourself. You answered all of the shieldmaiden’s questions about your kind and your customs as well as the soul cages but you noticed that she was still shivering from the cold despite being sat next to the fire. 
Hesitantly, you unclasped your cloak and set in on her shoulders, making her eyes go wide. You had explained the meaning of it to her and she knew that you had just handed over your freedom to her in order to keep her warm, that she could abuse this power to keep you for herself and see to it that you never returned to your home or your kin should she wish – many females of your kind had suffered this fate at the hands of nasty human men. 
“Thank you.” She smiled softly as she shuffled closer to you, “I promise to take good care of this and return it to you when I am warm.” Her words and sincerity filled you with both relief and a warmth in your insides. You leaned your head on her shoulder as you stared into the flames of the fire. You felt her fingers come under your chin to turn your head to face her and her eyes were lidded, flickering between your own eyes and your lips. “You saved my life today…” Her mouth pressed sweetly to yours and you sighed against the softness of her touch as her hand cupped the curve of your cheek, “Thank you.”
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☾ ⋆゚ Buy me a coffee?
🏷️ @writing-noah  
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kayhi808 · 2 years
Text
Second Chances -Part 1
Fall being just around the corner, the Manhattan evening air is chill & crisp. A refreshing change from the crush of bodies inside the party. Escaping outside to the rooftop terrace, you seek a little bit of quiet. Your business partner is so much better than you at these types of events. You cringe as you hear the door open & the commotion from the party intrudes on your moment of peace.
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You caught Billy Russo's attention the moment you stepped into the room. Not overly made up like most of the women there, Bill found you beautiful. Not loud & vying to be the center of attention. Quite the opposite, sticking to small groups along the perimeter of the room, slowly making your way out to the Terrace. Bill follows you.
"Sorry, didn't mean to intrude." Nodding to the party, "A lot's going on in there."
"It's a bit much."
Bill gives you his movie star smile & holds out his hand, "Bill. Bill Russo."
His large warm hand engulfs your chilled one, "Y/N."
"May I?" Bill shrugs his shoulder out of his jacket and drapes it around you, "It's cold out here." You protest and try to return his jacket, but Bill won't hear of it. "I insist," holding the lapels together, trapping you in his warmth & the smell of expensive woodsy amber cologne. Bill leans on the railing next to you, "You here with anyone? Do I need to be worried about a jealous husband? Boyfriend?"
You shake your head, "This is a business function." You're getting uneasy having Bill this close, the sole focus of his attention. The city is full of handsome men, but none have affected you the way Russo has.
"Oh, yeah? What do you do?" Bill brushes back a strand of hair behind your ear.
Nervously clears your throat, "I'm an event planner."
"So, like weddings, birthdays & baby showers?"
Annoyed that he would assume that, that's the scope of your business. "That and conventions, expos, fundraisers, premiere parties...And what exactly do you do, Mr Russo?"
"I'm in private security."
"So, like a mall cop?" Bill chuckles and you smirk. You try to retain your annoyance but seeing him smile & laugh gave you a thrill you hadn't expected.
"Touche. I deserved that. No, I own Anvil. We provide military & security services."
"I'm impressed. Wait. Anvil? I think I'm still waiting on a call-back from your people."
"What?"
"Yes! For some of my higher profile events. I was looking into contract security. Someone able to coordinate with Secret Service or my clients personal security. Anvil has kept me waiting, Mr Russo."
Bill straightens up and leans close to your ear, "You want to get outta here, Y/N? Go somewhere quieter to talk? Maybe dinner? These events never have decent food." Steps back quickly, "This isn't one of your events, is it?"
"No, it's not." Wrinkling your nose, "You're right the food isn't good here. I'm starving."
"Shall we?" You return his jacket to him & he guides you out with his hand resting at the small of your back.
As much as you dreaded this evening, it suddenly looked a lot more promising.
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snakess-17 · 3 years
Note
Sorry if this is dumb, but could you do the mercs venting or crying to their s/o? Like maybe scout thinks they'll leave him, idk-
scout
he doesn't usually show his feelings to people in most cases and tends to talk when he is about to explode. you will notice the slight difference in his mood so you will call him in to talk.
when he bursts into tears and releases his insecurities about the relationship and how it will continue, you will need to let him vent for as long as you need, hug him and give him his pats on the back.
After he has calmed down, spend time with him, resolve his doubts and tell him that you are not thinking of separating, that he is enough in the relationship and that you will not look for anyone better, because there is no one better than him.
sniper
you will notice him a little more distant than usual, he will probably avoid you or avoid the moments when you are alone, he will behave normally with the rest of the mercenaries but there will be a slight difference with you.
When you are alone together, you will talk about it and he will start to vent how insecure he feels, he will walk around the room or the caravan and will make exaggerated movements with his hands, while his voice will be short.
When he calms down, spend a little time with him, perhaps lie down together in silence and give each other a comforting hug while he is the big spoon
spy
spy won't show significant changes, he won't distance himself from you or stop talking to you but he will smoke a lot more than he does daily and you will see more bottles of wine than you normally see in his smoking room.
when you decide to talk to him his voice will sound distressed and his face or whatever his mask reveals of his face will be quite frustrated not knowing how to express himself and what he is feeling.
when he calms down try to talk gently about it, let him know how you feel and relax him, maybe when you lie down on his bed read something relaxing aloud or talk to him a little in French.
heavy
heavy prefers to talk about things rather than hide them, as he finds it annoying to avoid topics and prefers to go straight to the issue that is bothering him, so he is more likely to take you to talk privately.
he will hold your hands as you sit face to face and he will tell you what is bothering you, with a sad tone, you will probably see some tears running down his face which he will quickly wipe away.
most likely he will tell you that he doesn't want to bother you and to leave the conversation there, but try to convince him that he is wrong, because possibly even though you have talked it over the doubt will remain in his head.
demoman
most likely the doubts and thoughts are gnawing at his head for a considerable time before he mentions it to you, more distant, quieter and discreet glances in your direction.
will cry as he unloads and shows his insecurities, will probably stand while sitting on the bed and hug your hips as he continues to talk.
Hug him a lot and give him kisses to calm him down, talk confidently about how you feel about it and let silence proclaim the room when he is calmer.
soldier
he's a direct guy, he'll probably think about it for a while and you'll notice him being weird or maybe more distant at the time, but after a while he'll make up his mind and mention to you that he wants to talk somewhere more private.
his emotional discharges are usually in almost audible whispers due to insecurities, sitting on a corner of the bed, playing with his fingers and looking at the floor.
sit on his lap, hug him and show him your support, after you talk he will return to his normal self. perhaps his performance on the battlefield will be better for a few weeks until everything returns to normal.
engieneer
You will see him without his typical smile on his face, a much more serious face with hints of worry, he will spend hours, more than usual, locked up in his workshop working, he will have more visible dark circles under his eyes and he may be a little more irritable with the other mercenaries.
When you confront him to talk he will start with his insecurities, relationship issues and so on, if the conversation intensifies he will start to cry.
calm her down, get her to relax her breathing by reassuring her that everything is okay. confirm how you feel about it and spend quality time with her, asking her to play you a tune on her guitar will help. after the conversation she will be more confident about it.
pyro
maybe for the other mercenaries there is no difference in his behavior, but for you who know him and are used to his way of acting you will notice that he will be a little more subdued than usual and he will not spend as much time with his companions.
when he asks you to talk in a private place you will see him sobbing a little, he will be without his mask and he will find himself crying when you get to the place he asked you to go and it will be a little difficult for him to formulate his words.
Make him some hot chocolate and some malvadiscos before you sit down to talk to him, take him by the hands or the back and reassure him that everything is fine and he doesn't have to worry.
medic
similar to engineer, he will almost not sleep and will be immersed in his work, however he will be much more irritable than engie, will yell at anyone who bothers him and will only leave the medical bay to find something to cool off with.
when you confront him about his behavior he will explode and tell you how he feels, he will move around the medical bay in a hurry, raise his voice and at the end of his argument he will collapse in his chair in exhaustion.
sit in front of him and hug him, he certainly needs it. take him to his room to rest and lie down next to him so he can rest and you can talk about it in the morning.
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shoshiwrites · 2 years
Text
Finally answering some of these romance prompts, this one from the lovely @tortoisesshells. This one..sort of isn't really the prompt, and for that I apologize. I had one idea but then Bill wouldn't stop talking.
Prompt: "laying awake at night, wishing your lover was next to you"
dreams
Bill thought he should write to her, which was probably the worst idea Joe had ever heard. And that was saying a lot. That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard, he wanted to say. “You’re an idiot.” Maybe even a bigger idiot than me. 
It was useless, he knew, for reasons that only multiplied the more he thought about it. He lit another cigarette. They were here, in England. And she was..home. Somewhere in Philadelphia, he assumed, or on the bond circuit. He tried to remember any scraps of what she’d told him, tried to remember the sound of it in her voice.
“You should,” Bill said. 
He could write a whole letter of reasons why he shouldn’t. He picked one, tried it on for Bill. “I ain’t got her address.” 
Bill stared at him, that stare like he couldn’t believe he had to do everything himself around here. Joe knew it was only a matter of minutes before Bill had an example to prove why he was right and why Joe needed to wise up, some neighborhood tale that Joe could never tell if Bill had pulled it out of his ass or not. The kinda shit that always involved a guy on the corner or a craps game or a dog that wasn’t where it was supposed to be. “So write to the paper. They’d eat that shit up.” 
Joe put down his cigarette, the look on his face suggesting that his friend had told him to do any number of terrible, depraved things, least of all write to a girl he liked. “Oughta get your head examined,” he said finally. 
Bill leaned back a little. “Well, what else you gonna do about it?” Joe half-expected him to start joking about what Joe was surely doing in her absence. He didn’t, thank god, and Joe didn’t know if that was more unnerving. 
“Look,” Joe started, and why were they even still talking about this. Why was he still talking about this. “She’s…” Engaged, first of all. And across the damn ocean. And too smart for me. And too pretty, and— “She’s got that damn ring,” he said, a little strangled. Trying to sound like he only cared the right amount, and not too much. Like he hadn’t poked his head into that tiny as shit office the day she’d left, looking, like Malark said, a puppy someone had just kicked.
Bill’s voice was as serious as if he were discussing a pool strategy or another airborne invasion. “Like I said, they’d eat that shit up.” They watched a farmer with his wagon make his way down the road, passed by a truck. Listened to the crunch of gravel. His voice lowered by a hair, a little more thoughtful now. “Joe, I think you’re a little busy.” 
“So are you.” His voice sounded more tired than he expected. But it was an acknowledgement. 
“Still think it’s a good idea though.”
Joe resisted the very strong urge to elbow him. It’s- it’s private, he wanted to say, as if he were even considering it. She doesn’t deserve that. An even quieter thought, after that. She doesn’t deserve me.
Maybe it was easier to pretend like if they were in the same place he’d be able to say something. Like he ever would have, would ever have gotten up the nerve or believed she’d really go for him. 
He knows they’ll let the day get loud again, finish their cigarettes and move on. He’ll think of her that night, trying to sleep. Not the shit Bill joked about, the winks and the stupid faces. Well. Sometimes that. But not now. 
How they might go to the movies or for a walk, how the sun would look on her hair. The smell of her perfume, like summer. 
How warm her curls would still be when he held her later, carded his fingers through them. They’d have known each other for years. It’s a dream too, the empty house he imagines with open windows, and the both of them bare in tangled sheets. Weight on a real mattress, their limbs twined together. 
It’s enough that he stops turning, enough that he’s able to sleep. He wants to thank someone for that, but he doesn’t know who.
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howggswouldreact · 3 years
Text
🌈 How would dating Olivia Hye be like  🌈
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you met in high school
you studied in the same room as hers and sat nearby
sometimes, you tried to talk about anything with her
but contrary to what she shows up on stage, Hyejoo is very shy
she didn't talk much, but she liked to hear you talk
in a conversation about the History homework in the group chat of your class, you saw her interacting, asking which pages she should be based on to start it
you still hadn't noticed that you had a growing crush on her, but that's what drove you to save her phone number and answer her question privately to talk more
surprisingly, she became more talkative with you through the messages she sent you
until one day, at school, you were shocked that she started talking to you, not the other way around
then with time, you became that duo that everyone always said that were glued
and, in fact, it was just like that
her parents adored you
your parents adored her
she used to sleep at your house and you at hers
you both did all the school assignments together, even when they weren't for groups/duos
you spent all your time together and when one of you skipped classes or would not spend the weekend at the other's house, felt like it was tighten your chest
that's how you noticed that you felt more than friendship feelings for her
and Hyejoo felt her feelings for you growing
she was afraid to ruin the friendship, but she also couldn't get away from you
she debuted on Loona before saying these feelings to you
you didn't meet a lot since then because when she wasn't recording a mv, she was practicing with the group
you were sad but understood that it was her dream and you would respect that moment
even though you missed her soooo much
so on your birthday you said you’d expect her to get some time to go to your party
and so she gathered the courage to talk to you, even though she arrived almost at the end of the party
she took you to a more secluded corner of the house (your bedroom, since all your friends were dancing and having fun in the living room)
Hyejoo said she would give you a gift
she asked you to close your eyes
anxious, you closed them
"Hyejoo, no need to surprise me, I'll have to see it at one time or another!", you said, smiling
she did not answer
you didn't open your eyes, waiting with your hands outstretched
then you felt her hands on yours
and before you could open your eyes, you felt her lips on yours
you were confused at first but then you relaxed
you held her by the shoulders and what was a simple long peck turned into a shy tongue kiss
after that, all the time you spent together, usually in your bedroom or in hers (never in the dorm), was full of kisses
until one day she said, irritated:
"are we going to stay in this... thing, or do you want to be my girlfriend?"
"obviously I want to be your girlfriend!", you replied, laughing a little and receiving a quick kiss, followed by a hug
after that, you started dating Olivia Hye!
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she looks intimidating but
it changes very fast with you around
you didn’t use to play a lot of computer games, before her it was something more casual
but... everyone knows that Hyejoo loves games
you love watching her play, but for her, having you watching it is not enough
so she starts to encourage you to play with her
she teaches you how to play new games
buys a pc gamer for you on your birthday the year after your first kiss
(which makes you almost pass out because... computers are not cheap)
(but she doesn't care about price tho)
buy matching accessories
(all of hers are black and yours, white)
she can do anything so whenever she does something, you will be surprised at how her talent is in different areas and, for her, it can be the most natural thing to do
at first, you were a bit jealous that she and Chaewon were soulmates
but with time and all the security that Hyejoo gives you, you understand that their friendship is that way
and that you and only you are the love of her life
you buy a lot of food when you are together
lots of fun eating, by the way
when she has to travel with the group, tends to be quieter because misses you
the girls notice it, of course, and sometimes they make jokes about it but they don't get on Hyejoo's nerves very much because they know it's not cool
after all, both your schedules are completely different. it wouldn't be fair to joke about it
record loona logs like she's telling you things that are happening day to day
and send you the unedited videos of it
everything that has to do with wolves you make sure to buy because it reminds you of her
you always watch the cherry bomb cover
"watching this video again?", she says as if it were nothing much
the same is repeated with Egoist mv, or any video that she appears
"I'm sorry but I can't help it... I'm Olivia Hye biased!", you reply.
she rolls her eyes, but there's a silly smile on her lips
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whenever you goes to sleep at her house, which doesn't happen very often since she spends most of her time in the dorm, she makes sure that you uses her laptop to play those games with her
but you end up playing very badly because you are distracted kissing or talking about the day you had
get used to her work routine
and also gets used to her routine of staying up during the night
which makes you sometimes lose track of time
but it's so nice to talk to her at dawn...
this is the moment when she feels more free and, because everything is quiet, it is as if there were only the two of you in the world
and even when you sleep in her house or she’s in yours, the feeling is the same
long conversations about deep things, plans and goals, insecurities and uncertainties, weaknesses, advices...
likes to sleep at home because you sleep in her bed with her
(a small detail none of your parents know about)
and so, she lies on top of you and asks for your hand in her hair
it's the most comfortable way she found to sleep and she only feels 100% rested with that
loves to kiss you but does it only when you're alone
long and slow kisses
it is very difficult for her to give you quick kisses because, for her, it's as if she isn't enjoying it in the right way
know the exact strength to squeeze your waist during the kiss
also knows the exact strength to pull you by the waist towards her and leave you completely melted in her arms
you usually buy caps and clothes for her
all in black or gray tones
and she gives you her favorite sweatshirts for you to wear
"they look better on you, anyway."
take pictures of you while you sleep
eventually, these photos become lockscreens on her cell phone
constant and contagious laugh that makes you laugh to the point that tears come out of your eyes
picks you up for no reason
carry you on her back for no reason
when hugging, she ends up lifting you off the floor
maybe it’s to show how strong she is
likes it when you caress any part of her body
especially in the neck, where she's very sensitive
if she does something before you (like going somewhere first or watching an anime before), you have to deal with her saying she’s your sunbaenim
finds it adorable when she gets irritated by silly things (like forgetting a word, for example)
piercing ears together
wear matching piercing jewelry
hitting the "woah" for no reason
it ends up being your way of saying "i love you" when there's too much people around
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sex with your girlfriend Olivia Hye:
you had your first time together at the end of senior year of high school
you were already in a moment of the relationship that kisses were getting hotter and hotter and hotter and...
although you both were inexperienced, it was even better for you to get to know each other's bodies together
especially with your mouth marking her entire neck and making husky moans come out of her throat
despite this moment, Hyejoo tends to be quite dominant
likes it when you sit on her lap
usually pulls you to sit
(she finds it more practical to explore your body with her hands when you are in this position)
tends to pay a lot of attention to your breasts
(and also loves to play with your nipples, even slightly)
she's veeeeery affectionate at these times, asking if it's hurting you or if it feels good to you the way she is doing it
but usually she doesn't say much more than that
although praising your body a lot after sex, while doing it you feel it coming through her hands
she loves to hear you moan in her ear
but she's audacious enough not to let you cum soon
after sex tends to be quiet
you lying on top of her or vice versa
Hye smiling like a fool but with a certain flush on her cheeks
kisses your hand, face, mouth
but she doesn't really talk much
maybe a mix of being embarrassed and of needing nothing more than being with you
your presence is more than enough for her. always
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narrators-journal · 3 years
Text
A threat appears
So! This one I actually changed the title of this part, but otherwise, not much is different.
Cw: Illumi murders someone, I go into a bit of detail with it. Enjoy!
Previous part: here
First part: here
(f/n) was much more social than you, much more social. Which was a bit annoying to Illumi. Despite having achieved a potential wife...possibly...he wasn't sure, he still didn't like being pulled into a party (f/n) had gone to. But they weren't like you, helpfully isolated and reclusive. No, according to Milluki's research, they lived in a college dorm, so at least one person was around at night, which was the best time for hits so their room mate was quite the annoyance already, and during the day they regularly had friends around or were in class, in public, or otherwise surrounded by students and people of all sorts. Witnesses. So, the man had to once again slip into a social gathering and blend in to get to the person he wanted to kill. It brought back horrible memories of the hit he'd run into you on.
That's why he stood in some strangers living room, dressed in a baggy (college) sweater and some sweat pants, his long, black hair pulled up into a ponytail while faux sipping on a cup of cheap beer and watching while (f/n) danced to some random song he didn't know.
These rare moments where he actually needed to worm his way into social circles like this at least gave him a reason to dip into the small collection of 'casual' clothes he had, but that fact did little to actually make Illumi enjoy the need to listen to annoyingly loud drunk women, or sometimes assure an overly drunk college student that no, just because his hair was long and he wasn't built like some Dorito that did not mean he was a female or a lesser male. But, this was a nuisance he had to deal with. (f/n) had to learn that they couldn't set you up on dates, after all, you were far too reclusive to go on a date yourself, or go dragging you off to distant areas where the assassin couldn't protect you. You couldn't entertain him if you weren't somewhere he could watch you, now could you?
Luckily, Illumi being in sweatpants and a sweatshirt didn't kill the predatory charm he had, in fact, it seemed to increase his draw, judging by the fair number of party girls who tried to talk to him and lure him back to their dorms. (f/n) especially seemed prone to his charms, sauntering over, slightly tipsy, to flirt with him when they'd spotted the tall, handsome assassin standing against the wall.
They chatted for a while over the loud music while people around them danced, came and went from the house, or made out in the corner, then Illumi made his move,             "you want to maybe talk somewhere a bit quieter?" he suggested, letting his voice gain a tiny bit of suggestion to spark their interest. Of course, with the alcohol and abundance of lust coursing through their veins, they took the bait easily, nodding and grabbing his wrist to pull him outside to a more private, quiet part of the yard behind a small shed or whatever the host had in their yard.             "there anything you want to talk about in particular?" (f/n) asked, their own voice full of suggestion and flirtation.             "Nothing really, just wanted to do this," he hummed, swooping in and kissed them, making your friend squeak, but they didn't really hesitate to kiss back.
While Illumi struggled with love, empathy, compassion, so on, he did take some pride in the fact that he wasn't bad in the plainly intimate areas, (f/n) however he couldn't say was outright bad, but definitely not the best he'd had. their mouth tasted of beer and chewing gum, and their kisses were sloppy and uncoordinated, but he could compare and contrast the quality later, right now his main priority was breathing. He pulled away and gave a charming grin to (f/n) when they giggled,            "y'know, maybe we should head off to my dorm~" they hummed, twirling a finger in Illumi's long, silky hair. He hummed and made a show of thinking about it, in reality he knew instantly to agree, than nodded. (F/n) smiled at that and didn't hesitate to drag him back to their dorm. As he was dragged in, Illumi swiftly noticed that your friends room mate was gone. This situation couldn't be any more perfect, could it? And the assassin was happy to take advantage of the rare situation. Illumi kissed (f/n) again, letting them drag him onto their dorm bed and cling to him eagerly. He ignored how their fingers tangled in his hair, instead using the time to mull over how this situation wasn't awakening that primal need to breed that seemed to kick in over simply glimpsing your bare skin. Though, while his thoughts weren't super focused on the act he was partaking in, he still went through the basic motions with practiced ease, running his hands up and down their sides, kissing a trail down their neck, and than pulling their top over their head. Though he didn't toss it away. Instead, before (f/n) could strip his clothes off, he wrapped it around their throat and tightened it until your friends eyes widened and they gasped weakly. He knew better than to use his hands,  that risked getting him scratches on his hands, and leave DNA, so he was extra careful as he stared down at the person coldly. (f/n)'s eyes filled with a primal terror he'd seen many times before when he started strangling them, but Illumi was a trained murderer, (f/n) was a normal college student. When they started writhing and trying to claw at his arms it was easy for him to ignore the meager amounts of pain. Maybe they have a point though. he thought about his current victim's insistence to socialize you, simultaneously moving to straddle his victim better so they couldn't kick him or get free, Dates seem to be a far better option for learning about someone, and it'd be easier on my back than hiding in trees and shrubbery and sitting so still for long periods. He hummed absentmindedly, keeping (f/n)'s shirt tightly around their throat when they went still and tried to fake death to get free,                 "Smart move, but I know how long it takes to die of asphixiation." he told them calmly, which brought another struggle, this one far more primal and desperate, but he smoothly avoided all of their attempts to scratch his face, and his clothes kept them from clawing any DNA from his arms or legs, so despite their best efforts, even such vicious attacks didn't get them free. Eventually, they did truly suffocate, Illumi made sure by keeping the shirt taut for another full minute before loosening the fabric. After that, he simply disposed of the body in a nearby lake and went home. The next month was bland on your front. He couldn't really blame you completely for being so upset, you didn't know he was around to give you company, and your meager friend pool had shrunk by one, so he supposed your mental health was a bit at risk. It surely didn't help that Illumi had also made your date disappear like your friend, but he could help you through depression, and the lonelier you were, the better chances he had when he swept in and dated you. All he had to do was wait for the perfect time. Which was honestly boring.
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biclarisselarue · 3 years
Note
hi! I just wanted to say I love your writing 😳
mafia au + enemies to lovers + any prompt you want 💕
It’s been almost three hours now, and Percy feels as if he couldn’t move anymore even if he wanted to. Crouching behind a statue of some forgotten god is wreaking havoc on his back. If this potential lead turns out to be another dead end and he wasted a perfectly good evening staking out some dusty museum, even if that museum is owned by one of his best friends, he might have to officially retire from the private investigating business altogether. He’s only twenty-eight, he’s sure he could probably find some cushy job to pay the bills. 
All thoughts of a comfortable office chair and a job where he isn’t shot at on the regular are chased from his mind as a shadowy figure creeps into the room. The movements are graceful, quieter than any normal human being has a right to be. Percy tenses, hand creeping to the gun by his hip. The room is dark, lit only by the slight shine the moon reflects through the expansive skylights above. His breath slows, watching as the lithe form approaches, their face turned upwards to a statue near his own. One more step brings them directly beneath a skylight, and his thief’s face is revealed.
Annabeth Chase.
Percy’s breath catches in his throat. Even knowing all of the dark rumors that  follow her like shadows can’t stop him from admiring the cut of her jaw, the curve of her throat as she continues to stare at the statue, unaware of his presence. The most notorious mafia boss on this side of the country, standing less than three feet away from him. She’s dressed in all black, loose joggers and a warm turtleneck. He would laugh at the cliche if it weren’t for how dangerously prepared she looks, pistol tucked into the waistband of her pants. 
They’re still for a long moment, each gazing at something beautiful. Eventually, Annabeth lets out a soft breath that sounds almost like a sigh and reaches out with gloved fingers to lightly touch the statue’s upturned hand. Her eyes close as if gathering strength, and Percy takes his moment. He steps out from his hiding spot and trains his gun on the back of her head, hands certain and steady.
“Turn around. Slowly.”
There’s not a twitch from the figure in front of him, no sign that she’s even slightly surprised to be caught here tonight. Still, Annabeth Chase does as he asks, keeping her hands where he can see them, away from her gun. Her eyes are bright under the moon, clever and and almost as sharp as her smile.
“Percy Jackson.”
That was not what he was expecting her to say, and she knows it. Her smile widens into a grin. Silence stretches between them as he waits for her to say something else, but she simply continues watching him, the picture of ease. It’s a challenge—one he quickly loses.
“So, you’re the one who’s been breaking in here almost every night for the past month then. I can’t fucking wait to tell Reyna I was actually right about a potential burglar. Though, I would figure you of all people would be more careful about dust patterns.”
A slender shoulder shrugs, unbothered. “Ah, you got me. Nobody else seemed to notice. Very smart of you.” There’s a hint of satisfaction in her voice, and Percy’s eyes narrow.
“Yeah, well, your casing of the joint is done now, so whatever job you’ve got planned is also finished. I’m bringing you in for breaking and entering.” 
Her laugh is soft as she takes a step forward, and Percy’s aim lowers down to her heart in warning. 
Annabeth’s eyes widen, too much for it to not be fake. “Alright, easy there. But you will have to come closer at some point if you don’t want to stand here until morning. I'm not exactly going to handcuff myself.”
Percy would be an idiot to trust anything she says, but she’s also right. His arms wouldn’t be able to stay raised like this for long enough, and he’s already tired from the late hour. Wrestling with the decision for a couple more seconds, he eventually moves cautiously towards her, watching carefully.
“Would it be too obvious to say no funny business?”
The smile she gives him is amused, and she watches him right back as he shifts the gun to one hand in order to pull out his handcuffs. “Almost certainly.” As he takes one of her wrists in his—and here he decidedly does not notice how warm and soft her skin is above the glove—she leans forward ever so slightly. She’s close enough that he can smell her perfume, a hint of lemon and something sweet.
“You’re wrong about one thing, you know.” Percy simply raises an eyebrow, bringing the handcuff up. “I wasn’t casing this place at all.”
When he looks back on it, the next few seconds seem to happen in slow motion. Annabeth tugs her wrist backwards, causing him to stumble closer, their chests almost touching. The scent of lemon becomes more prominent, and Percy hesitates. Then she disarms him with a twist of her other wrist, hooks a leg around his ankle to knock him off his feet, and brings her own pistol under his chin. His handcuff is locked around one of her wrists though, and he’ll take whatever win he can get. Percy locks the other side around his own wrist, smirking.
“Probably don’t want to have to drag around a dead body, do you?”
Annabeth quirks one eyebrow at him, and he feels the smugness fade slightly at the sight. Her knee is pressing into his chest just on the side of painful, but it’s positioned carefully to not do any real damage.
“You presumably have the key for these handcuffs somewhere on your person though, don’t you? Wouldn’t take long for me to find it after killing you, I bet.” He huffs, conceding the point. “Luckily for you, I’m not going to kill you tonight.”
“Oh? Do you have another date in mind? I’d love to mark it down on my calendar.”
She presses her pistol a little further into his skin, a warning not unlike his own from earlier. “Listen. I was hoping you’d notice the dust being misplaced, even if it took you longer than I anticipated. Maybe I should have picked someplace you frequent more often, but I suppose I have a soft spot for the Greeks and their art. Infamous, in part because someone made them untouchable, placing them here.”
As he looks up at her, caught in the trap she laid, he can’t help but agree. Chase had always seemed invincible, unknowable, but with her warm breath ghosting across his face, a crack forms in the illusion.
“So, why all this then? What could you possibly need from me that you went to so much trouble to orchestrate this whole thing away from prying eyes?”
There’s a pause, as if she’s debating whether to trust him, her mouth drawn into a frown. For the first time tonight, she seems fully human, uncertainty turning her into something touchable. Percy can feel her muscles are tense in every spot they’re touching, and he finally recognizes her body language. She has nowhere else to turn. She’s cornered, and she hates it. Another crack in the illusion.
“I want to hire you. You’re a PI, are you not? And I have reason to believe my brother is planning to kill me.”
Malcolm Chase, the second in command of her organization and not without substantial power and a devoted following of his own. No wonder she didn’t feel as if she could turn to anyone closer. If her own brother might be plotting her assassination, who else might be helping his betrayal? 
“And why should I help you? You’re the leader of the mafia, and, if the rumors are to be believed, a cold-blooded murderer without anything that could even remotely be considered a heart.”
She sits off of him, tucking her pistol back into her waistband. Their hands are still connected by the metal circling them, and her pinky finger ghosts against his palm, too quickly for him to know if it was on purpose. He follows her lead, albeit a bit more slowly, and sits up. Annabeth’s gaze is pointed towards the darker corners of the room, as sharp as ever, but now he can see the desperation behind them.
“Because I’m asking you to. Because you’re the best in the business.”
The unspoken because I might die if you don’t hangs between them. The illusion shatters, and now he’s sitting beside someone knowable. Dangerous, yes, but human all the same.
“Fuck.” Percy reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key for the handcuffs, drawing Annabeth’s eyes back towards him. She looks as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, and he can’t tell if it’s an act. He can’t tell if that matters to him anymore. “I’ll help you. Now what?”
158 notes · View notes
hopelessly-me · 3 years
Note
I wish you would write a fic where Clint has a ridiculous amount of puppies. An abundance of puppies.
Hey anon! So this probably didn’t exactly go how you thought it would but... apparently I need platonic! Clintasha today because this was soft. So I hope you enjoy! Thanks for this one. =)
Word count: 1234 (which, trust me, made me laugh and laugh and laugh)
Natasha could hear all the ruckus the moment she stepped off of the elevator, and judging by the noise, it had to be coming from Clint’s apartment. She was torn for a moment- she wanted nothing more than to get out of her mission clothes and soak in the bath, maybe drink a glass of wine and maybe listen to early 90s pop music while polishing off the bag of chips she had hidden in her bedroom; she also wanted to see what Clint got himself into this time while worried about the smell. She could always check on Clint and his chaos in the morning- she was positive that whatever he had going on in his apartment it would likely be there in the morning.
She entered her apartment and looked around the minimalist space. It was quieter, that much was true. Everything was clean, nothing out of place. She made it to her fridge, finding it bare of any real food, which only made her sigh when her stomach growled. She glanced towards her door, towards where she knew the noise would be, and just down the hall it would be even louder; but she knew there would be food, or at least someone to take care of it for her. Her fingers drummed on the fridge door until she closed it.
Her bedroom was currently in a state of organized chaos. She had left in a hurry, so a few clothes were scattered about, most of which needed to be hung up. One laundry basket was toppled over- she hadn’t made it down to dry cleaning when she got her mission and, well- a dirty mission outfit was better than nothing at all. Was she ever going to admit that to anyone? No, especially not Clint who would take that knowledge and run with it. She peeled off the well worn outfit and threw it into the red basket, collecting other dirty clothes that went into the black basket. She hovered near the purple basket, mostly empty aside from a pair of joggers and a hoodie. She picked it up and examined it before she carefully buried her face in it. Clean. Asshole.
With a sigh and a small smile, Natasha changed into the clothes Clint had purposely left in her room and she walked back through her apartment and out the door. She didn’t bother knocking, neither of them did anymore. Worst case scenario, Clint was naked, and that was a sight she was all too familiar with. Best case scenario- he was watching YouTube videos much too loudly again to drown out the quiet, something else she was entirely too familiar with.
The moment she opened the door she saw that it was somewhere in the middle. Clint was laying on the ground, his face scrunched up in pure joy as he laughed, a band of puppies squirming and wiggling all around him, biting at his clothes, licking his nose. Natasha closed the door before one could run out, a small little puppy that was almost all black beside the bit of white on its chest. She hesitated before she scooped it up, her nose wrinkling at the puppy breath as her nose became assaulted by a wet tongue.
“What is happening?” She asked.
“Heaven. I have died and gone to heaven,” Clint exclaimed. He sat up, carefully holding onto the puppies that had made his chest their home, and his smile was radiant. “The humane society called asking if I can watch some puppies until they have foster homes. They called me Tash. They asked how many I could take….. I said yes. After the third time asking how many, they gave up and gave me this hoard.”
Natasha wanted to tell him this was a horrible idea- that he falls in love and forms attachments far too quickly to be allowed this sort of private luxury. But those big blue eyes, filled with more joy than she thinks she’s ever seen before, softened the words before they could even come out. There wasn’t an ounce of darkness in that room, not a moment where she thought that maybe he was overcompensating for something, anything, to explain the dog hoard. And if a few days of being in puppy heaven meant she could get peeks of her best friend in a state of pure happiness, she was going to soak it in as long as she could despite the puppy breath and dog hair everywhere.
“How many of them are there?” Natasha asked, carefully making her way over to Clint, dancing around tiny paws and snapping jaws.
“Thirteen total,” Clint answered. “I think this is a sign- thirteen. Our favorite number!”
Natasha rolled her eyes and carefully lowered herself to the ground. It didn’t take long before she was swarmed by the tiny terrors. For a brief moment she thought about getting up, moving away from the nips and the licks, and the one that had already declared the hoodie strings a fun challenge. But there had to be something behind this madness that made Clint so happy that maybe she was ready to try it out herself.
“You are insane,” Natasha pointed out.
“Never claimed to be rational,” Clint said before he flopped back down, most of the puppies going back to him, showering him with love. “But it doesn’t get any better than this.”
Natasha wasn’t sure how long she laid there with Clint, quietly soaking in his squeals and laughs, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he tended to the puppies. As they calmed down, one had climbed it’s way onto Natasha’s abdomen, laying down with it’s big black nose just inches from her chin. Puppy breath aside, even she had to admit that the big, loud yawn the pup let out before it nuzzled into her was adorable to say the least. She carefully reached up and pet the puppy, it’s fur like velvet under her fingers.
“Sucker.”
Natasha looked over at Clint, his soft smile as he watched her with the puppy. She glanced back at the sleeping pup on her chest, golden in color, soft, peaceful, and she looked back at Clint. He reached out and touched the side of the puppy, one finger brushing against its side delicately. There was still no darkness behind his eyes, no demons bothering him for the day. Natasha considered buying him a puppy hoard if that meant that maybe it would chase away all the things that kept him awake at night; she knew if he could find the same thing for her, he would do the same.
“Maybe,” Natasha admitted, letting her hand fall away from the sleeping pup and brush against his arm. His lips twitched back up to a bigger, brighter smile for a moment before he took a deep breath and turned his head, closing his eyes.
For the first time in a long time, Natasha felt a sense of calm and peace that came by so rarely. She was grounded into the moment, soft and quiet, sharing it with the one person she could share her soul with. She took a deep, cleansing breath herself, the pup moving just a little on her before they both seemed to settle.
Then again- maybe this could be enough for the both of them, if only for a few days.
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m-y-fandoms · 4 years
Text
Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu x reader (fluff + angst) - (COMMISSION)
When I get a commission that isn’t Danganronpa related, I keep the client’s name private and switch names and some paragraphs around to fit a Danganronpa character so you all can enjoy it. This commission best fit Fuyuhiko’s personality, so here you are - Admin Kokichi
SFW, gender-neutral reader
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     I walked through the halls of Hope’s Peak Academy, still toweling off my scalp after a shower in the gym’s locker room. Heavily I sighed, thankful for the much-needed sustenance that was soon to come when I finally reached the cafeteria. Sport after sport, activity after activity, it really wore the body out. Hope’s Peak really stressed the importance of the Ultimate-level students honing their skills. That’s why we were there, after all. Yes, we took general education classes like any normal student, the basics like the many different types of mathematics, general art, history, government, sciences and all that, but each student in the Main Course had several hours a day blocked out of their schedule dedicated to their specific talent and that talent only. It was rigorous, obsessive, and exhausting. 
     At times like this, I envied those who sat down for their talent, like animators and gamers, for I, the Ultimate Athlete, was always on my feet. Not that I’m saying art and gaming don’t take a lot out of those students, I just wanted a break from physical exertion once and awhile. My brain wasn’t stimulated quite as much as I’d like. Even the other athletes, like Aoi Asahina, the Ultimate Swimmer, and Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast, had one set training area, and trained one sport for long sessions during the school day. As the all around Ultimate Athlete, the administration of Hope’s Peak had me training lots of different sports and exercise methods in short bursts. This meant running across campus from the pool to the dojo, from the gym to the baseball field, from the wrestling mat to the biking trails. Every day, a different muscle was sore, but I suppose I can’t really complain. It is an honor to be selected to attend Hope’s Peak. I mean, there were hundreds of regular students paying extraordinary rates to attend, just to be mocked and berated for being Reserve Course students anyway. I was lucky to have been chosen as the Ultimate Athlete at all, considering they already had so many types of athletes here. I think the appeal of my talent was that instead of being the best at one sport alone, I was above average at every single sport there was. Well, there was no use wasting time dwelling on my burnt-out body, because immediately after lunch, I was expected back at the gym with no delay. The longer this walk took, the less time I had to eat.
     Picking up the pace, I sprinted - something I excelled at - through the courtyard that connected the Reserve Course and Main Course wings for what was a well-known shortcut to the cafeteria. Reaching the other side, I slowed my pace, my eyes landing on a curious scene that caught my attention. Three Reserve Course girls - distinguishable by the ash-black of their identical uniforms as opposed to the customizable (and optional) Ultimate uniforms - were whispering in hushed tones in front of one of the cream-colored pillars of the courtyard surrounded by some well-tended flowers. They trembled slightly, a bit jittery it seemed, and were clearly gossiping profusely like the gaggle of hens they resembled. There was malice and fear in their expressions as they looked back and forth from the object of their scrutiny then back to each other to deliberate and discuss. My eyes followed their line of sight to the opposite side of the courtyard, where the pond and benches sat. Of course, it was him. How did I not notice him as I passed by from that end? I must have been in some hurry.
     Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, sat on the ground leaned up against a wall on the opposite side of the courtyard, scrawling notes into a notebook in his lap. His brow was creased, fairly engrossed in his studies. I could tell he heard the girls chattering, they weren’t being subtle and weren’t very far away, but Fuyuhiko was paying them no mind.
     “Do you think his dad threatens the teachers if they give him a bad grade?” A blonde gasped, as if the thought had just occurred to her.
     “Probably, I wouldn’t put anything past that clan of brutes,” another plain-looking girl whimpered in reply.
     I stopped to watch the situation play out, hiding behind a nearby pillar and ready to step in if it continued, as rumor-spreading bullies were something that I just couldn’t stand by any means. I knew Fuyuhiko could handle himself… err… maybe I was just being a bit nosey to be honest.
     After a few more minutes of the clique getting louder and bolder with their insultingly toxic babble, I saw Fuyuhiko’s head snap up, throwing them a pointed glare. The flock gasped in unison, with looks of horror on their faces, and scrambled away past me and into the hall. I smirked merrily: now that reaction was the more typical one. I was just thinking how brave these girls must have been to be provoking a Kuzuryuu in the first place. Many people in the school, and just the country in general were terrified of them. I myself felt a bit indifferent about Fuyuhiko. He was in my home room and never caused trouble. 
     The Kuzuryuu Clan was the largest and most powerful Yazuka clan in the country, with ties to national governments, huge drug rings, and a hand in many influential corporations throughout the country. People knew to fear them and not to mess with them, like any gang. Fuyuhiko was the only son of the head of the clan, and next in line as its leader, but if you’d spoken more than two words to the guy, you’d see that it was wise to respect him, but there was no need to fear him. In fact, his little sister Natsumi, who terrorized the Reserve Course girls, probably was the reason Fuyuhiko’s reputation around the school was smeared by association. People saw her bitterness, her jealousy, her need to harass or threaten anyone who she felt inferior to, her horrible attitude, and probably transferred that fear over to her older brother, thinking the siblings must be similar. It was just ridiculous. If anything, he was an asshole at times, but not dangerous.
     Plus, how could someone be afraid of a guy who looked like that? Fuyuhiko was both adorable in some ways, and handsome in others. His cute side came out through in his meager height, the way his pale skin blushed easily when flustered, the softness of his blonde hair, the small pout he wore at times. He didn’t even have ink yet like most Yazuka. His skin was milky and untouched. On the other side of the spectrum, he was handsome and manly in the way he spoke, the elegance of his expensive suits and ties, his intelligence, the way he carried himself, his sharp and intense gaze. I always thought it was more reasonable to be attracted to him rather than afraid.
     He did have a bit of an attitude problem, but I often felt bad for him because of it. The quipping, feisty exterior he presented was clearly a coping mechanism, a method of self-defense after years of pressure to be a pillar of his family and being misunderstood by his peers. It probably wasn’t easy to be expected to watch or even perform drug deals, interrogations, or even murders - who knows? Then after all of that, you come back into normal society and get judged for being tiny with a baby face behind your back while people are scared of you to your face.
     He projected the anger he was taught was normal, and used the years of being raised in the Yakuza to adapt and mold his personality. He often cursed out or blew up at others, was stubborn and hard to work with, did his own thing, and despite how well he thought he hid her, his personal bodyguard being around the corner ready to kick someone’s ass at a moment's notice deterred many potential friendships. Most of our home room were friends with him, but I rarely talked to him. I really only made myself known to a few of the quieter kids in our class like Komaeda and Tsumiki, even Peko herself at times… but other than them I mainly kept to myself.
     I just wished…. he’d talk to me first. I was desperate to get to know him without the fear of feeling like I was bothering him.
     Ok, so maybe I wasn’t as indifferent as I let on before. Now that I’ve given myself away, I suppose I’ll just say it:
     Yes, I was a bit biased on the topic of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu because… I had a massive crush on him.
     And it was hard, so very hard to see him in class everyday, at the dorms, around campus, and not be able to make those feelings known. I couldn’t tell if it was fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of him just cussing me out until I pissed myself, maybe a mix of all three? But now we were alone… save for Peko, who was undoubtedly spying from somewhere close by. Why should I care what anyone thinks? I was sure he’d never tell anyone if he rejected me anyway. He wasn’t the gossiping type, and he only told people what he needed them to hear. Steadying myself, I took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the decorative colonnade. As I shakily stepped across the grass, lunch became the last thing on my mind, and I approached him. He didn’t even look up until I began to speak, cowardice lining my tone.
     “H-hey,” I mumbled, towering above him like some weirdo. He squinted in suspicion, a small pout settling onto his lips as he silently acknowledged me. “Are you studying?!” I yelled more than spoke, my nerves taking hold. He rolled his eyes, holding the notebook up with one hand. I couldn’t help scanning him, taking in the way the sun bounced off the yellow fluff of his buzz cut, the way his chest heaved slowly, the cute little mole under his bottom lip. I was sweating, wondering if Peko would knock me out for getting too close, but also entranced in his hazel eyes.
     “What does it look like?” He huffed, irritated by my very presence. He probably came out hime to be alone, after all. Now he had to deal with me right after those insufferable girls.
     “Ah, haha, yeah, well anyway, I wanted to say that those girls were obnoxious and wrong. You shouldn’t let their words get to you. They’re meaningless. Y-you shouldn’t care about what they think. I-” I spoke quickly, nervously, and he parried my words instantly, tired of me wasting his precious time.
     “I don’t give a shit what they think. Since you’re such a fuckin’ creep and were apparently watching the whole time, you must have seen me scare them off, yeah? I obviously don’t care, and I don’t need some rando to come give me a fuckin’ pep talk! What do I look like to you, some fuckin’ kid that got his feelings hurt by some bullies? Fuck those bitches and fuck you! If that’s all you had to say, get lost,” he spat, and I flinched backwards. He was feeling vulnerable, and biting back was the only thing she knew, like an abused dog lashing out at its rescuers. I knew not to take it personal, that Fuyuhiko sometimes said things he didn’t mean out of anger. I knew all of this, but I was still taken aback and thoroughly intimidated. Almost as soon as he’d snapped at me, he settled back into his calm studying, opening the notebook again. That was Fuyuhiko, a little ball of rage that could be turned on and off like a switch.
     “Well, I, um-” I cut off my own words, swiftly turning on my heel and marching out of the courtyard, clutching my bag like it could save me from this humiliation.
~
     “Fuck… I’m such an idiot.” I shook my head, involuntarily replaying my blunderous attempt to ask Fuyuhiko out in my head over and over again. Could it even be called that? I mean, I didn’t even get to the asking out part before I made a complete fool of myself and pissed him off. I was now rushing through the corridors of the first floor, trying to make it to what was my last class of the day after a very short lunch and some extremely demanding training. The gardening class was mainly unsupervised and casual, but I hated the feeling of being technically late nonetheless.
     The term “class” is used loosely hime. At Hope’s Peak, each student was required to choose an elective course that “gave back” to the community or school in some way. It was thought to boost the school’s reputation, along with the student’s resume. That was the sentiment the school held, anyway. Some students volunteered at local retirement homes, some, like the eccentric Gundham Tanaka, lead clubs that tended to rescue animals and raised them. Others tutored exchange students in Japanese, some did maintenance around the school to earn the credit. I chose the gardening club, where students would break up into little groups and tend to all the plants, flowers, grass, vegetable gardens, and courtyards on and around campus. Sometimes we even took “field trips” to tend to other local greenery. I found it to be the most calming and quiet option of all the electives. There was very little human interaction, and it was satisfying to see the (literal) fruits of your labor grow.
     Today I would be tending to the garden in the secondary courtyard behind the school. This one was more hidden away, rarely ever used, and that’s what I loved about it. But… as I turned the corner, my box of gardening supplies in hand, I froze dead in my tracks, shuffling back to hide behind the cover of the wall.
     Fuyuhiko was sitting there on his hands and knees, pruning weeds from the garden. The coat of his uniform was discarded, and she sat in only his slacks and a button up dress shirt with a tie. He had little towels folded up as make-shift knee padding, green gloves on, and was leaning into his work with such fervor.
     What?! I screamed internally, panic taking hold of me. I had been a member of the gardening club for months, and not once had I seen him on the class roster or in rotation. I’d been to every station, been assigned every task at least once, and I’d never been paired with him. So of course, on the day I was thoroughly humiliated in front of him, here he was, ruining what was supposed to be the most relaxing part of my day. I considered leaving, simply lying about my hour of gardening time on the school’s check-in portal, but something in me told me to stay. I sat there, fighting with myself, nearly collapsing with anxiety, and then he began to speak, tearing my from my thoughts:
     “Now now, how are you gonna grow big and strong if you keep lettin’ these little punks fuck you up like this…?” He huffed, almost fatherly in his tone. I peeked around the corner, wondering who the hell he was talking to. Maybe this shift wouldn’t be so awkward with a third party to distract me from him, I thought, but when I hazarded a glance, not a soul was in sight, save Fuyuhiko. Taking a closer look, I noticed his calloused hands nestled around the leaf of a plant, and he tsk’d, observing the bite marks left by pestiferous insects and small animals. He was talking to the plant?! My cheeks started to warm up, my heart melting at the realization.
     Fuyuhiko began to hum, then to sing softly, a lullaby of sorts for this injured little green darling. Holding my breath, I nearly crumpled against the wall, feeling my flush spread from my cheeks to rush throughout my entire body. This is so fucking cute, I thought to myself, glancing once more, perhaps a bit riskily. I was getting greedy, greedy for even a glimpse of seeing him in the state of happiness I knew he deserved. I couldn’t care less if Peko was sneaking up behind me with a bamboo sword at the ready.
     When I looked, he was smiling, truly smiling. I’d never seen him smile like that before, a smile birthed out of an innocent and serene joy, and now I never wanted it to stop. There was no way I was turning back now.
      I took a few steps back down the hall, then stomped loudly toward the courtyard, allowing him to save face by thinking I had only just approached. I knew I would be in for quite the sour retaliation if he knew I had caught him singing. He may have even gotten up and left. He looked up, still leaned over his plants but now dead silent as I entered, and when he realized who I was, his breath caught in his throat. Another expression I rarely saw from him: one of being caught off guard.
     “Hey… so, I didn’t know you were in the gardening club? I’ve been in it since the start and I’ve never seen you.” I set down my box next to him and pulled out some gloves. I was hoping that acting like earlier never happened was the best course of action. Something can’t be awkward if it doesn’t exist, right? Luckily, he played along… or rather, just didn’t bring it up, either.
     “Uh, yeah. I was hoping to avoid all the bullshit of the whole, volunteer-but-not -actually-because-it’s-a-requirement class thing altogether. I just don’t have time for this shit, but my academic advisor caught on and forced me into gardening. It was the last one with spots left open…” he grumbled, as if he weren’t absolutely loving it mere moments ago.
     “Huh… and they aren’t penalizing you for, you know, losing all those points from the first few months you missed?” I inquired bravely. Maybe those girls were right earlier about his father threatening professors…?
     “Nah, I guess not. My advisor is super chill. She worked something out…”
     “That’s lucky…” my words trailed off, and we both got to work. The longer the silence grew, the more the awkward energy imposed itself on both of us. I could tell that he was thinking back to our earlier encounter by the way he made eye contact and quickly snatched his gaze away, the way she would open his mouth then close it without a hesitant word.
~
     Half an hour passed, and my nerves were beginning to stand on edge. What was more daunting than being alone with your crush? Being alone with your crush who verbally ripped you a new one that same day.
     Now mere inches away from him, focusing in on the same patch of flowers, we both reached for a small watering can at the same time, and our hands touched briefly, fleetingly before he snatched his own back, a shade of pink dusting his soft cheeks. He turned away, embarrassed, but I couldn’t have been more excited by the small interaction. Still, for both our sakes, I felt the need to break the silence.
     “You… you seem happier - now, I mean… as opposed to earlier today…” It was time to bring up the elephant in the room. I saw his body tense up, his spine stiffen, and he turned to face me, dirt staining his forearms and a swipe on his cheek where he’d scratched an itch earlier.
     “Yeah… I should probably apologize for that, bein’ a dick and all. I was just, really pissed and stressed. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that… it’s just… those stupid, loud-mouth, air-headed-” I saw his fists clench, his gloves squeaking a bit under the pressure. I continued where he left off, not wanting him to force himself to relive the gossip or the anger attached to it.
     “It’s fine, seriously. I get it. There will always be assholes like them in the world. I don’t blame you for being upset. Besides, I’m sure it was weird to have a stranger just approach you like that, trying to give you unsolicited advice and bothering you by-”
     “Well, you’re not really a stranger, are you? I’ve seen you around plenty of times… and you’re in my home room.” He spoke reluctantly, clearly fighting against the compulsory need to deflect and defend.
     “O-oh, yeah, you are. I didn’t think you’d notice.” I felt my heart rate speed up. Of course I’d seen him many times in the back of the classroom, but I had no idea he’d given me even a first glance, much less a second one.
     “Of course I noticed. Sports, right? Exercise, fitness, an’ all that?” He nodded, smirking. God, he was so hot… I didn’t know how to contain my excitement. I was trying my best.
     “Yeah, exactly. Sports, exercise, fitness. That’s me.” I chuckled a bit, finding myself more and more drawn to him with every second spent in his presence.
     “Shit’s cool. I can respect someone who’s disciplined and keeps in shape. I’ve seen a few of your games,” he let slip.
     “You have?” I immediately picked it up, a shiver of anticipation running over my skin and setting my pores on fire. Fuyuhiko wasn’t on any of the teams I played for and his Ultimate talent had nothing to do with sports. He wasn’t the type to go watch a sports game for fun, and didn’t have the free time for it anyway.
     My eyes widened slowly, and I’m sure he could see the moment I made the connection deep inside myself almost as soon as I’d made it. 
     That was the day I realized that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu liked me back. 
     An obscene shade of red flooded onto his face and his nose scrunched up, his voice cracking as he spoke:
     “Stop starin’ at me like that! The fuck’s wrong with you?!”
202 notes · View notes
shyvioletcat · 4 years
Note
Rowan and Aelin talking about their dream house
Guess who’s back? Enjoy the return of our favourite firefighter.
Fluffy prompt-a-thon masterlist
Striking Matches Masterlist
~~~~~
Aelin was only half way and she had given up. She had three more flights of stairs to go and she was puffed and exhausted and didn’t know how long it would take her to gather the strength to get up the rest of them. The fact that it was winter was a blessed relief, at least she didn’t have the heat to contend with, even though she was most definitely sweating. She was only 7 months pregnant and she was struggling to make it up the stairs. How was she supposed to do it once she was even more pregnant? How was she supposed to climb six flights of stairs with a baby?
Those were things that she had been thinking about a lot lately. She loved her little dingy apartment, or rather loved what had happened there. That was where she met Rowan, where the whole door fiasco had happened. He had proposed to her in that apartment, carried her all the way up these damned stairs after they had got married. The apartment meant a lot to her, but it was getting more and more obvious that their time here was running out. 
Finally catching her breath and willing away the tears in her eyes Aelin started to climb again. And she refused to stop until she got to the apartment door, even if that meant she had gone at a snail's pace at some points. She was just glad that Rowan wouldn’t be home and she would be able to compose herself and swallow back her emotions for when he got home, hopefully. Her emotions and hormones had not been her friends of late. So when she opened the door and saw him sitting on the couch it caught her unawares and she almost burst into tears at the sight of him.
Rowan immediately saw that something was wrong and he was up from the couch, taking her work bag from her and put it on the ground before gathering her into his arms.
“Aelin,” he said onto her head and she held him tighter. “Love, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Aelin said into his chest, her voice muffled. “It’s just a lot of stairs.”
Rowan kissed her head once then let her go. “You sit down, I’ll get you some water.”
Aelin did just that, sitting on the couch and taking her shoes off her swollen feet. Rowan was back in a few moments, giving her the bottle of water as he sat down beside her. Aelin immediately lent into his side, taking comfort of the feeling of his body against hers. Then she took a drink.
“What are you doing home?” Aelin asked, her voice still a little strained. 
“I convinced Lorcan to let me be on call from home,” Rowan said. That explained while he was in his uniform. “I had a feeling you might need me.”
That was what broke the dam on Aelin’s tears. Damn him and his intuition.
“We can’t stay here,” Aelin said before he could ask. “We can’t stay here and that makes me sad. Because this place was so important to us, but we can’t have a baby here. I can’t do the stairs pregnant, I can’t do the stairs with the baby. There will always be so much to carry and I know I can’t do it. We can’t do it.”
Rowan looked down at her, as she looked up at him. “I know.”
“You do?” Aelin asked.
“Yeah,” Rowan said, the left corner of his mouth dropping in a frown. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
“You have?”
Rowan just nodded. Then they were both quiet for a while, both just thinking Aelin guessed. That's what Aelin was doing, a thousand different thoughts running through her mind. All of it getting a little overwhelming. Would they buy? Would they rent? Where would they go? When would they go? They were on a pretty defined deadline.
“One step at a time,” Rowan said quietly, no doubt reading the tension in her body. “We don’t even know what we want.”
Rowan was right again, they had never really talked about moving in a real sense. It was one of those things they just assumed they would do when the time was right. 
“What’s your dream house?” Rowan asked, relaxing back into the couch. “What makes or breaks the deal?”
Aelin took another sip of water as she thought. “I think it has at least four bedrooms.”
“Four?” Rowan said looking down, brows high. “What on earth are we going to do with all those rooms?”
Aelin smiled coyly up at him, her hand running over her belly. “Oh, I don’t know.”
Rowan chuckled. “I think I want a place with our own private bathroom.”
“Why’s that?” Aelin asked.
“Privacy,” Rowan said simply.
“For?” Aelin pressed. 
Rowan just rolled his eyes at her. “Whatever your imagination wants, Aelin.”
That made Aelin laugh, then she glanced around the room. “I want a dining area. Somewhere we can have a real dining table. And a big kitchen. Not huge, but big enough that we can move around in it together without running into each other.”
“I like running into you in the kitchen,” Rowan said.
“But things always burn, or we’re late. I think it’s best if we have some space,” Aelin explained matter of factly, but she didn’t miss how Rowan's arm tightened around her at the mention of taking ‘space’, like the thought of it right now was abhorrent. Aelin found his hand and squeezed it. “I want a yard. Big enough so we can get a dog.”
“And space for the baby to play and run,” Rowan added.
“I want the house to be cute too,” Aelin told him. “I don’t want some ugly modern thing. I want it to have character.”
“I like that idea,” Rowan said. “Maybe we could find a place on the edge of the city. Still close enough that we can keep our jobs, but a little quieter, more land.”
“I think I would like that,” Aelin agreed. “I don’t want to leave all our friends.”
“Even Lorcan?” Rowan asked.
Aelin let out a burst of laughter. “Yes, even Lorcan. But mainly for Elide’s sake, but please don’t tell him that.”
By some divine intervention Rowan wasn’t called out to an incident, so they spent the whole evening talking about and discussing their new house. They playfully fought over room colours as they ate dinner, whether they would have carpet or floorboards in the bedrooms as they half paid attention to the show on the TV, discussed what exactly they would use all those bedrooms for while they got ready for bed. By the time Aelin was tucked into Rowan’s side under the covers they had a decent idea of what exactly they wanted from a house. 
Unbeknown to Aelin, Rowan started looking while she was asleep, trawling through pages of houses. By the time his own eyelids were dropping he hadn’t found anything, but he knew he would find something, it might just take a little bit of time.
~~~~~
It took Rowan about 2 weeks to find something that fit almost all their requirements. He hadn’t expected to find the perfect home but this came pretty damned close.
He’d spent the night at the station on night shift, using the quiet the time waiting looking through every real estate site he could think of searching for right house. And found it he did. It was nearly 2 am so he didn’t call or message Aelin in case she was sleeping, something she was getting less and less of these days, but it left him humming with an excited energy.
When he walked through the apartment door Aelin was in the kitchen making herself breakfast. Rowan went straight to her, kissing her sweetly before holding his phone up for her to look at.
“Rowan, what…” 
Rowan watched for her reaction, as her brows furrowed in confusion but then when she saw what was on her screen her eyes went wide.
“It’s… that’s perfect,” Aelin said, taking his phone from him.
“Well, it’s not,” Rowan said, swiping his fingers across the screen to flick through the photos. “The kitchen is old and terrible and the paint job throughout the old house is retro and not in a good way. But those are all things we could fix. The yard is huge, there’s this big old tree in the yard we could hang a swing from. It’s got some flaws, but I don’t think we’ll find anything much better.”
“I love it Rowan,” Aelin said, putting his phone on the counter and wrapping her hands around his neck. “I’ll contact the real estate on my lunch break and –”
“I already have,” Rowan said with a smile. “I’ve emailed them, expressing our interest. I’ve got it all started.”
Aelin grinned and then kissed him. “Thank you, Rowan. You are too perfect.” 
Rowan smiled, “Anything for you, my love.” 
~~~~~
I just love these two SO MUCH!
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