#But i grow tired of the purple so have some reds

[back-to-rose]

"In Isobu's lair"

#Rin nohara #Rin naruto #Nohara rin #Naruto #Naruto art #My art #Sketching #Rin once moreeee #She's like my muse #But i grow tired of the purple so have some reds #Jinchuuriki #Jinchuuriki!rin

[softlyspector]

Grays

Summary: Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked. He would never dare admit it, though. Based on this lovely ask.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: Joel being insecure about his looks, age, gray hair (idiot 🙄 affectionate), Joel being a nuisance by sweating and chopping wood, Joel's bad attitude, reader is implied to be from the south/Appalachia (and has an accent), food as a love language, food mentions and eating, minor internal angst, Joel character study?because I'm insane, very domestic, fall vibes

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you like this and thank you to the anon who sent that ask. I wrote this in just a few hours because you inspired me so and a price can't be put on that. Thank you all for always being so lovely and letting me write whatever comes to mind/inspires at the time💕

“Are you almost done with that?” 

The ax arcs through the air again, splits solidly through the log and then thumps down onto the stump beneath. Two halves of split wood go flying in opposite directions, and you set about gathering them up for Joel, who pauses, one hand on his hip as breathes heavily through his nose. 

There’s a tendril of sweat snaking down his temple; the ax hangs loosely from one hand like it weighs nothing. 

“What?” He snaps. 

You smile and repress the urge to laugh, turning your back so he doesn’t see. “I said, are you almost done?” 

He makes a disbelieving noise, an indignant half-squak. “This has gotta be done before winter sets in, in case it slipped your mind.” 

“I didn’t say it doesn’t,” you agree, rounding the stump to prop up one of the halves back onto the ax scarred stump. “It’s just that you’ve been at it for a good long while. Ain’t you tired?” 

You step back and Joel straightens his shoulders, fingers tightening around the handle of the ax again. He lifts and swings, muscle straining in his arms, shirt lifting just enough that you see a thin line of his skin. The log splits, and you step forward with the other piece, ignoring the flutter in your belly at the sight of him. “Would go faster with help,” he grouses pointedly. 

“Mhm, or you could come get some dinner. It’s gettin’ dark.” 

Grunt, lift, swing, slice. 

No answer. 

You roll your eyes and instead sweep the fallen pieces of scattered wood into your arms and start toward the growing pile of firewood along the back side of the house. You don’t get very far with your burden. “Hey,” he says, tugging you back by your shoulder. “Quit that. C’mere.” The firewood is out of your arms before you can protest. 

He shoulders past you, heat radiating off him in dizzying waves. The autumn air is chilly and growing colder, the day dunked in a gray, dusky fading light. The sky is that late autumn purple it sometimes gets to be, rosy like blush and lavender, the fingers of the trees sharp and black against the horizon. “If you want help,” you comment, following closely behind him. “You do actually have to let me help.” 

His shoulders pull taut, the wide cut of them straining at the red flannel he’s outfitted in. “Uh-huh.” He drops the wood on the top of the pile and turns back to you. His eyes flicker over you, chin tucking down, head tilting as he assesses you. “You eat?”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes at him.

Typical Joel.

“Might be what I’d come to fetch you for. Supper’s on.” 

“That so?” 

“Chicken and dumplings,” you say by way of explanation. “And gravy.” 

 “Sounds good.” He says it with a note of surprise in his voice. “Real good.”

“‘Cause it is. Come eat. The work will be here tomorrow. You’ll even have my help that time around. If ya happen to let me help that is.” You beckon him with a jerk of your chin toward the open back door. 

He swipes the back of his hand over his forehead, then runs it down his face, palm cupping his chin. The thick tendons outlined in his throat tighten when he clenches his jaw and considers the mess of the backyard. Warm yellow light is starting to unspool across the lawn, over long dead grass and the whisper of browned leaves. “Ellie eat?” 

“She’s with those friends of hers tonight. Suppose she’ll eat with them.” 

He makes another vague noise in the back of his throat, still looking at the stack of logs he’d yet to split. 

Joel does this sometimes. Works himself like a dog, gets grouchy and sharp, forgets to eat. 

Sometimes it takes a firm hand and hard pressed coaxing to get him to give it up. 

If you weren’t there, you wonder how long it’d last, that rise and fall of the ax, the strain of his body, already well past its limits. 

He must be exhausted and hungry, not that he’d ever rightly admit to that.  

That’s another thing you wonder after — did Joel even feel those things anymore? 

Yes, you think. Since Jackson, yes. He just had a way of ignoring his own needs. He’d run on empty for days if he had to. 

But he hesitates, makes a show of surveying the work he has left for him, the last dregs of the dying sun spilling weak across the yard. Or, maybe it's not a show. With Joel, things rarely are. He’s earnest, feet rooted firmly to the ground. 

You watch him while he deliberates. One huge hand is still fisted around the handle of the ax, the bulk of his forearm straining, muscle and vein twisting prettily beneath flushed, damp skin. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, the top few buttons of his shirt left undone. His chest and neck are tinted the same color, dappled in the same sheen of sweat. 

His hair is starting to go properly silver, a dark attractive gray that extends to his beard, the chest hair that just pokes out against the top of the flannel. 

It’s unfortunate, really, how he seems to get more beautiful each year. Age shouldn’t look as good as it does on him. 

When your eyes flicker back to his, he’s already watching you. An unreadable expression is tangled over his features, complicated and unknowable. Just as quick as it’s there, it’s gone, his expression cleared. You aren’t sure what he’s seen on your face that makes him fold inward, shut the door closed on you. 

“All right,” he agrees, leaning the ax against the stack of wood, seeming reluctant about it. 

Still, he follows you up the back porch stairs and through the door, wipes his shoes on the mat and then toes them off as you close the door to the encroaching night.

There’s something about socked feet, bare feet, that is painfully domestic, painfully homey and full of a feeling you don’t know how to articulate anymore. Something that reminds you so starkly of life before. You’d both gone months, once, without ever taking your shoes off, aside to tape them and switch socks, too afraid you might not have a moment to put them back on. 

Joel glances at you as you shuffle past him, a hand placed gently between his shoulders for just a second, before you trek further into the house. “Smells good,” he compliments, following close on your heels. “I ain’t had chicken n’ dumplings in years.” 

“That so?” 

“Mm.” He moves toward the stove in what you’re sure will be an attempt to serve both of you. 

“Nuh uh, sit,” you intercept him bodily and direct him into the chair at the breakfast table. 

He huffs at you and sits, only mildly annoyed.

“Crabby,” you comment, spooning out a sizable portion. You always feel that he doesn’t eat enough, that he tries to leave too much behind for you and Ellie, especially after hard work. Joel still ate like he expected rations to run out. It’s unconscious, but it still worries you. 

“I ain’t crabby,” he gripes. 

You roll your eyes, sit the plate in front of him, and press the back of your hand to his cheek. The sweat is drying tacky on his skin, the strained rose color fading from his cheeks in the warmth of the house. He should have been wearing a jacket; his skin is a clammy kind of chilled, even sweaty and warm as he is. “You’ve actually never not been crabby, and it’s worse when you haven’t eaten,” you inform and hand him a fork with your other hand. “Ellie would agree with me.” 

His hair curls at the base of his skull with the evaporating humidity of his skin. Like his socked feet, it feels painfully domestic to witness. Incredibly human, which Joel seemed more than, sometimes. “Guess she would,” he agrees. You lean your hip into his side and wait for him to take a bite, moving your hand away from his cheek to rest on his shoulder. 

Joel might show his love through killing himself chopping wood for the winter, but this is the way you do it. He can’t cook, anyhow, and it makes you feel good to give him something good. It reminds you of better times.  

When he swallows, eyes fluttering closed at the taste, you pat his shoulder and start to pull away to get your own plate.

“Hey,” he catches at your hand. His fingers tangle briefly with yours. His thumb sweeps over your skin, soft about it, though he doesn’t say anything else for a long moment. “It’s real good.” 

“You’re welcome, Joel.” You lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. 

When you’re both done eating, he does the dishes, builds a fire in the grate in the living room so the room is warm when you find your way there, book in hand with the intention to complete a nightly ritual that he’s never raised complaint at since it was quietly started. 

You alternate between words and music, and last night Joel had played the guitar for you in the chilled air of the back porch, a blanket tucked around your legs. 

Joel would never dare admit it, not in ten thousand years, not in the pits of hell with a knife at his throat, but he likes to be taken care of, too. 

It’s just so often that he bristles at it, feels guilty and faulty over it. 

After dinner, with a full belly, and a stiff drink in him, he’s better about it. 

Better about letting you shove him down onto the couch to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at those delightfully gray locks. It’s longer now, too, and you like that too. You hope he forgets about getting it cut. 

It’s such a nice look on him. Handsome. You should probably tell him that, but the words never come out. 

He lets you do as you like, easy about it, eyes closed, breathing even and slow as you settle beside him, pressed tight to his chest, ass hanging off the edge of the sofa. You mean to open the book lodged somewhere between your bodies, but you don’t. You just look at him, sleepy, between the fire and the heavy food. 

Maybe he’d never admit it but this is one of the many little ways he can accept it. He lets you feed him food that reminds you of your childhood, lets you read to him on alternating evenings, lets you bring him in from the cold when it starts to get dark. 

“Should I add chicken and dumplings into our rotation?” You wonder aloud, tracing the lines by his eyes carefully, the vein in his throat, the hollow at his clavicle, the slope of his broad shoulders.  

He only grunts and doesn’t open his eyes. “It was good.” And that’s the closest you’ll get to an admission that he would like to have it again. 

“Glad for it, Miller,” you say and tuck yourself under his chin. You hear the book fall to the floor and make no move to get it. “You need a shower,” you complain instead, nose pressed to his throat.

He does, but he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like himself, sweat and sawdust and cedar, the faintest whiskey. It’s a human scent, almost comforting. And Joel has, frankly, smelled much worse.

He just locks one thick arm around your waist, the wide flat of his palm against your spine. “In a minute.” But he’s breathing deeply already, halfway to a place you can’t reach. His arm tightens, his head tips down heavily against yours, solid and comforting, mostly asleep. 

“In a minute,” you echo.

Joel wakes to a dark living room, a chill creeping in around the edges of the room. You’re still pressed tight against him, though he can’t see how with the way you’re practically halfway onto the floor. If he loosens his arm even a fraction, you’ll go tumbling down. 

He considers doing it for just a second, suppressing a chuckle at the unimpressed reaction it would garner, the wet cat look of anger and indignation that would pull over your face. 

Instead, he nudges you awake, rubbing your back until you start to stir. The bedroom would be warmer for you, now that the fire had burned down. He hates the thought of you cold, always has. “Let’s go to bed,” he says in your ear. 

He doesn’t know exactly where you came from before. It doesn’t really matter anymore, doesn’t  hold any weight or meaning, since most places are just empty graveyards that can’t really be returned to. But wherever you came from gave you a pretty little accent, a twang in your voice that’s different from his. 

It’s something he loves about you, sounds like home. 

“Joel,” you complain, brow scrunching. “You just go on and leave me be.” It’s almost funny, how much twangier it is when you’re close to sleep. 

“Can’t do that, honey. C’mon now,” He pats your hip and keeps a steady pressure on your back until you grumble and start to sit up. “Go up to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” 

You’re rubbing your eyes, leaning back against his legs. “Why?” 

“Fire,” he nods to the still glowing embers as he sits up. “Don’t want the house burnin’ down. Wanna make sure Ellie got home all right, too.” 

“Okay.” He keeps a hand on your waist until you’ve got your tired feet under you, still mostly asleep, he thinks, as you balance with one warm hand on his bent knee until you stumble away towards the stairs. 

He sighs and tends to the fireplace, then checks out the kitchen’s back window to see the glow of Ellie’s lights on, before following you up the stairs. He expects a dark bedroom but you’re propped up against the headboard with the bedside lamp on, changed into sleep clothes but definitely still awake. “It ain’t that late,” you say when he arches a brow at you and leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “And it’s my turn,” you hold up the battered copy of the book you’ve been slowly reading to him. 

“It’s all right—”

“Uh-uh,” you interrupt. “Go shower. Then come here.” 

He holds up his hands. “Yes ma’am.”

“Mhm,” you hum and flip idly through the book, no longer looking at him.

There’s a hope lodged in his heart that you’ll fall back asleep while you wait. It ain’t that he doesn’t want to hear you read. He’s invested in that story now, and he loves your voice even if he didn’t. The cadence and shape of the words, the rumble of your voice against his ear is a nice balm to drift off to. 

What's more is that you deserve the sleep, that he shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you downstairs. 

There’s a lot of things about you that scare him. How much he cares for you, for one. But the thing bothering him most now is the one that stares back at him when he looks in the mirror.

Jesus, it’s like everyday there’s more gray in his hair, his beard, even his chest hair is starting to go white and gray. It’s like everyday, he looks and gets a little bit older. 

It’s goddamn embarrassing the way he worries about it, the way it bothers him. He doesn’t remember aging, isn’t really sure when it happened. Maybe he spent so many years avoiding the mirror he missed it. 

And, well, it wasn’t important before. But now that he has time to think beyond the next day, the next meal, he thinks about it. About how fucking old he looks, especially next to you. 

You aren’t younger than him, not but maybe a couple years, if you are at all—another thing that doesn't matter anymore, birthdays and age and counting the years—but you don’t look your age. Your hair has retained its color, aside from the very artful looking gray starting to creep in at your temples, just barely there. Your face isn’t lined, not like his anyway, delicate, graceful little lines by your eyes, instead of the deep creases that crack up his. You don’t seem to ache in the same way he does, either. You don’t seem to feel old. 

Maybe that’s why he’s so set on working himself down to the bone over chopping that wood, to prove he was still worth something to you, worth keeping around. Proof that he could keep up with what needed keeping up with. 

He watches himself in the mirror, the lines under his eyes and across his forehead, age creeping in around the edge of him like a slow poison. The way you look at him sometimes. . .he knows you think about it too, know it too. You had been in the yard before dinner, eyes locked on him, a look on your face he couldn’t quite get a read on.  

It worries him. Makes him sharp with you when he should be the opposite. 

It’s embarrassing, really, the way he thinks about it, hates the way your eyes linger on him and feels too fucking self-concious about it to just ask you what you’re thinking. Maybe he just doesn’t want to know. 

He glances away from his reflection, a sigh heavy in his chest. He needs a damn haircut, if nothing else. 

He makes quick work of the shower, dressing in something warm because he’s always cold, even if that's just another thing he won’t admit to and that is an aversion that gets worse as the years go by.

You gave him a scarf recently, blue and soft, and he wears it because he likes the way you look at him when he leaves in the morning with it on. 

When he pushes the door open, you’re still awake, curled up on his side of the bed, book held open with one hand. “Thought we were supposed to do that together,” he says mildly. 

“I’m just re-reading where we left off.” 

“Mm,” he sits down at your hip. “Scooch.” 

You move over just enough for him to lie down, which he does with a huff and a groan. “You got that whole other side there, you know.” 

“I like being close to you.” 

“Well it ain’t like I’m far. Now c’mon, move it.” 

“Cranky.” 

“Thought it was crabby?” 

“Ha ha,” you deadpan. “Real funny. Y’know sometimes I don’t even know if y’like me at all.” 

The way you say it makes something sting in his chest, a sharp little barb wedged between two of his ribs. 

You start to move further away, like he asked, when he hooks an arm around your waist, props himself up over you, tangled up in the middle of the bed like you’d end up anyway. “Like ain’t exactly the word I would use.” 

A wicked smile pulls the corners of your mouth up. “What word would you use then?” 

“Hm,” he looks you over, feels the curve of your thigh, the hook of your knee, press against his hip. “I think you already know what word I’d use.” 

You reach up to cup his face between hands that have seen too much violence. The skin of your palms is softer than he remembers it being just a few years before, calloused thumbs sweeping in a tender arch over the apples of his cheeks. “Mm, I think I do.”

“Yeah, y’do,” he agrees, and then lets you pull him down against your chest. The comb of your hand slides through his hair, against the back of his neck and the tops of his shoulders. It’s nice. It’s the kind of affection, attention he’s not sure he’s ever had before.

Not since he was a kid, at the very least. He’s never been the one that got held, just the one doing the holding, and he hates that he likes it. 

And he does like it, craves it. 

Things like this, they were so easy to get used to, and the hardest thing in the world to adjust to. The mix of it, the easiness and the hard knot of disbelief and potential rejection, make for a disarming cocktail. 

You’re so warm and soft under him, the scent of you wild and homey, like cooking and chilled air and soap. 

“You smell better,” you tease and pinch his bicep. “You awake?” He feels you shift, book cracked open over his shoulder. “Or am I reading to the ghosts?”

“You got me,” he mutters, curling his arms around your waist, behind your back, and you arch just a little to accommodate him. The material of your shirt rucks up under his hands, soft, scarred skin warm where he touches you. “I’m listenin’.”

You rub the back of his neck again but don’t start reading. He waits a few minutes, listening instead to the sound of your breath, even and slow in your chest, the tap of your heartbeat against his ear. 

“You forget how or somethin’?” He asks eventually. 

You shake your head, and the paperback comes to rest against his spine. “Have I ever said—” You stop and he waits, but nothing more is forthcoming, just your silence and the kind way you touch him. 

“What?” 

When he picks his head up, your brows are tilted down over your eyes; you’re frowning at him. “Nothin’,” you dismiss, massaging two fingers against his temple, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“Said what?” He tries not to have a bite in his voice about it but he does anyway. Just a little bit of a snap, because he worries whatever you might have not said are all the things he thinks about himself. 

You shrug. “I just think the gray looks real nice on you.” You twist a strand of his hair around your finger and tug gently. 

He huffs, expecting you to grin at him so he knows you’re just teasing him. But you don’t, your gaze is reverent, adoring where it’s focused on him. “It just makes me look fuckin’ old,” he disagrees and sounds bitter about it.

“No, it means you got to get older, Joel. Not everyone gets the privilege.” 

That takes the wind out of his sails. He doesn’t say anything else, words collecting in the back of his mouth like a little ocean he can’t seem to make drain away.

“It makes you look. . .rugged,” you decide, tracing the curve of his jaw. “Handsome.” 

“You like it?” 

“Yeah.” Another tug. “I love it.” 

“Mm.” He clears his throat, tips his head down against your body again, the trapped wing of your heart fluttering faster than it had been before. “All right. Get to readin’ now.” 

It makes it just a little bit harder to hate, if that look in your eyes was appreciation, affection. Maybe that’s what he’d seen in your face earlier, and couldn’t quite recognize it.  

You tap the book against the back of his head. “Idiot,” you sigh, and then start to read. 

It’s some kind of thriller, something you’d started at the beginning of October and still haven’t entirely worked through. The plot is a little ridiculous, all things considered. After all the horrors he’s seen, this book doesn’t do much to thrill him, though it is entertaining in its own way, maybe a little funny. 

He’d have to find something new when you’re done with it. Something seasonally appropriate, if he can help it. Some kind of Hallmark holiday romance ordeal. He’d like to hear you giggle through reading something like that out loud. 

Yeah, even if it keeps him up, he’d find you something like that. 

When your voice fades, each word cottony and long in your mouth with fatigue, he reaches back to pluck the book from your hands, and then flick out the light. 

“Baby,” you coo, and it’s nice to hear, nice to have you reaching for him in the dark, kissing him goodnight, because he’s yours, and you like him fine. 

What’s the other word? The one that’s decidedly not like? 

“Love you,” you say against his mouth, the edge of your lip sticking wetly to his. “Even though you’re always crabby.” 

He loves you, too, even though he’s cranky about the whole goddamn world. 

💕 Thank you for reading! I would love to hear any thoughts you might have! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[aphroditelovesu]

Valyrian Heritage | Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen, Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon

— summary: Being the only legitimate child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is not an easy task and you have learned the truth the hard way.

❝warnings: is not compatible with canon, Reader is referred to as having classic Valyrian characteristics, mention of violence, insults to the Velaryon brothers, and yandere platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝ 🐉 lady l: I don't know if it was good and I apologize for that. This imagine focuses more on the drama and I would love to write a sequel if anyone wants! Good reading and drink plenty of water. Love you all.

❝word count: 1,877.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's screams could be heard throughout most of the Red Keep.

The princess had gone into labor over two hours ago and everyone was looking forward to the birth of Rhaenyra and Laenor's first child. Even though some had different motives and some were more selfish than others, anxiety could still be felt.

After what seemed like days of excruciating pain, a loud sound of crying was heard inside Rhaenyra's room.

''Shh...'' Rhaenyra whispered to the crying baby in her arms, trying to calm them down. She had no experience with this, however, this was her first child.

But she loved them. Oh, and how she loved them. Rhaenyra never thought she could love someone as much as she loved her child the first moment she held them in her arms.

She knew she would do anything for them.

Laenor entered the room at the exact moment the baby finally stopped crying and was about to fall asleep. Rhaenyra looked at him sternly and her husband was silent.

He approached silently and Rhaenyra handed him the baby.

''They are beautiful.'' Laenor whispered, moved. They looked exactly like their parents, the very definition of a valyrian. A few silver strands, its father's nose, its mother's skin, and beautiful dark purple eyes when they opened their eyes for the first time.

''They are.'' Rhaenyra confirmed, sitting down again. She was very tired and wanted to rest for a while.

''What's their name?'' Laenor murmured, looking fondly at the baby in his arms. So perfect, his child was so perfect.

Rhaenyra thought for a few minutes and then smiled, ''(Y/N) Targaryen.''

Laenor faced his wife and smiled in agreement, ''(Y/N) Velaryon.''

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. Yes, Velaryon and Targaryen. It didn't really matter as this child was the product of both sides and she knew she would care for and protect them no matter what.

It was with these thoughts and the comfort in knowing that her child was being well looked after by the drooling father who cooed lovingly at the baby, that Rhaenyra finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

Later that day, Rhaenys and Corlys went to visit (Y/N). Laena could not be present, unfortunately, but she had sent a letter congratulating her brother and cousin on the birth of their child. Rhaenys had this letter with her when she entered the room with her husband.

Rhaenyra was holding her baby protectively and Laenor was glued to her side, arms crossed and staring at Alicent suspiciously.

Alicent had also entertained the idea of meeting her grandchild and Rhaenyra didn't seem willing to let her stepmother get her hands on her child.

''Let me see my grandchild!'' Corlys said excitedly and approached the protective mother. Rhaenyra looked at him for a few seconds, sighed and handed the baby to her father-in-law.

''They look like you, Laenor.'' Rhaenys commented after picking up her grandchild. Laenor smiled proudly.

In fact, (Y/N) looked like him even though they were so young. Laenor was sure that when they grow up they will be just like him. A powerful feeling took over Laenor's body. And he smiled even more at that.

Pride. He was completely proud.

Alicent approached Rhaenys, ''Let me see them.'' She said softly but firmly. Rhaenys hesitated a little, but let Alicent take her grandchild.

Rhaenyra was alarmed and Laenor placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

It's okay, Alicent would never dare do something with so many witnesses. Rhaenyra's shoulders relaxed a little but there was a tension present.

Alicent rocked the baby in her arms lovingly, smiling at them. They were beautiful, she thought. A pang of envy rose within the Queen. She wanted (Y/N) to be hers.

She blinked in surprise. That was it? But it was and Alicent knew it. Part of her knew that Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good mother to (Y/N) and she wanted to prevent future disappointments for them.

"They need to sleep." Rhaenyra said suddenly, standing up with her husband's help. Alicent looked at her skeptically and reluctantly handed (Y/N) over to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys watched Alicent carefully and Corlys looked suspicious. The Queen was forced to retreat.

For now.

"I need to go see Aegon." Alicent stated to no one in particular, "But I will visit (Y/N) again with Viserys later."

Rhaenyra's only response was a slight nod, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Under the watchful eyes of the three Velaryon's present, Alicent left the room with hesitation and disgust.

As you grew, everything changed and it wasn't just your growth.

But family intrigues.

You had been the only legitimate child of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

Everyone knew that Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bastards and sons of Harwin Strong. There was no denying it, not when you were Laenor's legitimate child, not when you looked exactly like him.

Not even Viserys had any arguments for that. And Alicent, Criston and Otto always made sure of reminding Rhaenyra about this.

Jacaerys' birth was a stab in the chest for Rhaenys and Corlys. And a triumph for Alicent.

You were only a year older than Jace, but you loved him deeply. It didn't matter that Jacaerys was different and this difference became even more visible after he grew up.

It didn't matter because you loved him. You loved Jace, you loved Luce, and you loved Joffrey. You loved all of your younger siblings and defended them fervently when their appearance was brought up. You constantly fought with Aegon and Aemond about it.

You got along well with Alicent and Viserys' children, your aunt and uncles. Mainly Helaena. You adored her, so sweet and so kind and she loved you fervently in return. It was very common for you to be together.

One day, you were in your room reading a book that Rhaenyra gave you and Aemond ran into your room. You dropped the book and got up in a hurry.

''What happened?'' Your voice was serious and Aemond blinked and pulled you into a hug, seeking comfort.

''They gave me a pig!''

You frowned, ''W-What?''

''Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys!'' Aemond held you tighter and every word that came out of his mouth was full of hatred. ''They said they were going to give me a dragon and they brought me a pig!''

Oh. You squeezed him back, trying to comfort your uncle.

''I'll talk to them.'' You stated and Aemond muttered a thank you under his breath, squeezing you as if his life depended on it.

When you scolded Aegon and your younger brothers, Aemond could be seen smiling creepily in the background.

You loved your entire family, your paternal and maternal grandparents, your parents, your uncles, your aunt, your brothers, all of them. And being a Velaryon and a Targaryen was amazing, but you felt trapped sometimes.

Trapped by your family.

You were often seen as the anchor of your family. What held them all together.

And you always agreed with that. Many of the fights that occurred you had to get involved in to separate both sides and as you grew up, you noticed it even more.

You realized that your family would never truly be reunited. And you found that out the hard way.

It was during the funeral of Laena Velaryon, your late aunt. You didn't spend much time with her but you felt sad. You stayed close to your grandparents and your father the whole time, trying to comfort them for the loss of their daughter and sister. They felt immensely grateful to have you there.

You have finally met your great-uncle, the infamous Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince.

He was everything the stories said. You felt uncomfortable with his strange looks in your direction and clung even tighter to your father who noticed Daemon's looks.

Laenor looked at Daemon suspiciously and pulled you away. Neither you nor your father noticed Daemon's eyes darken.

You lay in your room, trying to fall asleep when you were called to Driftmark's main hall after an accident involving your uncles and brothers. It wasn't until you found out what happened to Aemond that you knew all was lost.

You gasped in horror when you saw Aemond's face. Mutilated and missing an eye.

You approached him, under the burning gazes of those present. Alicent was furious and Viserys did nothing.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent stole Viserys' dagger and stormed off to try and gouge out Lucerys's eye in revenge. Your mother got in front and she was cut off.

You watched in horror at the cut and the way the blood dripped onto the floor. Aemond hugged you tighter and said everything was fine for his mother. It had been a fair exchange, he had lost a eye but had gained a dragon.

You knew the eye story wouldn't end there and you had confirmation years later.

You were stroking your mother's hair while she was being stitched up by the maester. You agonized every time the needle penetrated her soft skin and did your best to try and ease her pain.

Rhaenyra appreciated your concern and kissed your cheek after scolding your brothers.

Laenor entered the room and you hugged him, ''My child... I'm glad everything is okay with you'' He whispered against your hair, squeezing you tightly.

''I'm fine, dad. Mom is the one who's hurt.'' You mumbled. Laenor hugged you for a few more minutes and let you go, he turned and looked at Rhaenyra.

''I'm sorry for what happened to you and our children.'' Laenor took a deep breath and took a chair next to her. You stayed silent watching your parents interact.

Rhaenyra shook her head, ''It's not your fault.''

''No, it's not but I can't help but feel guilty. I've been neglecting you and Jace and Luce and Joffrey. And I regret that.''

Rhaenyra reached out and touched his arm, ''It's not your fault.'' She repeated again, with more firmness in her voice.

''I hate that I'm not the husband you needed, the father our children need.'' He whispered, ''I hate the way the gods made me.''

Your heart sank and you went to your father's side, hugging him. He smiled weakly at your affection.

''I don't hate.'' You mumbled.

''Neither do I.'' Your mother stated, ''You are a good and honorable man. That's something rare.'' They smiled and you felt lighter on that tragic day.

''I'm going to change. I will become a better husband and father.'' Your father said and pulled you into his arms, you smiled and hugged him back. Rhaenyra got up from her chair and walked over to you. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you too.

You stayed for a while hugging your parents, feeling grateful for the peace that dominated your heart for a few minutes.

Because you knew it wouldn't last. Not when the next day a tragedy involved your entire family.

Dragons roared and storms broke out in the tragic night.

#a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #asoiaf #yandere asoiaf #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere laenor velaryon #yan!mom rhaenyra targaryen #yan!dad laenor velaryon #yandere alicent hightower #yandere rhaenys targaryen #yandere corlys velaryon #yandere house targaryen #yandere house velaryon #yandere house hightower #hotd

[bamsara]

For the prompt thing, may I suggest, "good morning sleeping beauty" with moon? I think it'd be really sweet to have y/n finally comfortable enough to sleep near moon and they wake up to see him next to them.

(also, hi bam!)

Moon-Centric | Wordcount: 1,018 | A03 Version

Adjusting to living with the Daycare Attendant was easy in some ways, odd in others, and in some cases: just weird.

You've gotten quite used to a few quirks or theirs, or simple things. Like remembering you're not alone in your apartment anymore when you suddenly hear the TV turn on to the news in the other room or the sound of doors opening and closing. Or the smell of food cooking (burning) when Sun decides to try a new recipe that he may have forgotten that your fridge is not an endless supply of ingredients and you do, actually, have to go to the grocery store to keep supplying his new hobby.

There's the whole showering situation. The laundry situation (they don't need clothes, per say, but one of the upsides of being free robots means they can dress however they like now, so their wardrobe is growing) and coming home to see that your furniture has been rearranged for a third time that week because the Daycare Attendant wants everything to look just right.

There's also the sleeping situation.

You mostly wake up to Sun in the morning. Unless you don't, and it's the middle of the night, and Moon doesn't know the meaning of 'personal bubble.'

One evening you wake up with a sore, dry throat, open your eyelids and find two bright red glows casting back down at you. "What the-"

A silicone-coated hand gently, quietly, comes over your lips. You are silenced, though still sending a glare, to the robot that hushes you, hovering inches over your face. Moon sits cross-legged on the bed, tall body hunched over your foam. His T-shirt brushes up against your bare arm. The bell of his hat rests beside your head on your pillow. This was the norm for him.

You glare up at him and talk through the fingers on your mouth. "Whattyadoing."

The Moon does not respond, but his smile and half-lidded eyes tell you its an obvious answer.

You blink through he bleariness and look to the clock. It's about 5AM, not the middle of the night like you thought, but the sun hasn't risen yet. The space behind your curtains is still a blue, purple of a day not born yet. "How long have you been like this."

"Only a few moments." He talks quietly, voicebox in a whisper. Any louder would disturb you, and he wants you to fall back asleep. "You were stirring."

You yawn, and the hand brushes down your chin and to your neck, and lingers there. The bed on your back and warm blankets are lulling, but the ache in your throat is becoming more noticeable as you breathe. "I need water."

"I can get it for you."

"No, it's fine." You grab his arm before he moves, and he stays. Though a dulled look comes across his face, he returns to hover above you. "Give me a minute. I should get up for the day about this time anyway."

Moon's face twitches. Obvious disagreement. But the hand near your neck returns just to brush the hair away from your face. "You are getting up early?"

"Yeah." You yawn, and stretch your legs under the blankets. Any moment now you'll have to bite the tired and sit up. "Gramps has doctor appointment at 8AM, and we're driving him. Might as well get some stuff done and ready before we go."

"Hmm." His thumb moves to your eyes, and you close them briefly as he thumbs away the sleepy bits in the corner. He does what Sun does all the same, greasy hair and dried drool on your face do not stop him from petting you, for some reason. It's a nice feeling, if not too soothing when you know you need to get up.

The Moon clicks dully, pulling at the skin underneath your eyes (dark circles, thin skin with taut veins from sleepless nights and days full of worry and agitation. ) before a soft grin stretches on his face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

You glare at him, blinking out of synch.

"I never tell you good morning." He continues, unphased by your less-than-impressed reaction. "I only tell you Good Night. My turn."

That was...correct. Moon was the one who followed you to bed, but never the one to wake up with you. That was Sun. You never thought to wonder if they'd prefer to see how it is to switch. "God, you're corny. I hate 'sleeping beauty.' Makes me cringe."

"I can use a different name I have for you." Moon's smile turns slightly wicked.

"Pass."

"I can try a different way-"

"I'm going back to sleep." With one swift motion, you pull the blanket up to your chin and turn away, back to the animatronics. "Wake me up in an hour."

A low, amused chuckle comes from the static voice box behind you, and the presence on the bed shifts, the weight moving as Moon's head comes down to your face directly. "I won't."

"Mean."

"I'll wake you when the sun rises."

You blow air out from your nose and onto his face. It swivels, the ball falling with it. "You're totally preventing me from getting my extra hour of sleep, by the way."

"A shame." Moon hums. The face disappears from your vision, and the darkness of the room is all you have to see. Against your back, you feel the bed shift, and an arm comes up underneath you. The covers are lifted (not like you didn't help with that) and the space behind you is occupied now. Your legs brush up against star-pattern pants, a metal arm secured around your waist. "We will make it two hours."

You realize with faint defeat that you never got your water, but you're already lulling back to sleep too late to try. "Don't make me late."

"Hush." The other hand finds its way over your eyes. Moon's faceplate rests on your head, his t-shirt presses into your back. "Good morning."

"G'morning." You mumble, shifting backward further into the animatronic, and letting your lingering sleep take you.

#writings #drabbles #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #moon x reader #Solar Lunacy

[iiseult]

RED-HANDED: Gyutaro x reader - College!AU (part 2)

CWs → femdom!reader, sub!gyutaro, loss of virginity, afab reader, creampie, degradation, biting, slapping/rough handling (mild bdsm), not proofread, Gyutaro needs you biblically, also he’s a little less pathetic in this part for some reason but that's just where the spirit of the lord took me

Wordcount: 3.1k

Guytaro groaned as soon as you left the bathroom, taking a moment to process everything. He was about to lose his virginity to the girl he’d been in love with for god knows how long, and it was her idea. His cock twitched in his hand. He was already getting hard again just thinking about you, his refractory period apparently no longer existent. Quickly– and painfully– he stuffed himself back into his shorts and stood up, making for the door, but stopped short when he reached the mirror. The fact that you were even willing to touch him at all gave him a huge confidence boost, and he suddenly had the urge to impress you. He gazed at his reflection for a few seconds, just drinking in his own appearance without shying away for what felt like the first time in years. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, underscored with dark purple circles. His hair was untameable, and stuck out at odd angles all around his face. Dark, splotchy birthmarks covered his complexion, which was gaunt and gray. He looked just the same as he always had, but somehow, some way, there had been an inexplicable change, and he thought that maybe he wasn’t such a lost cause after all. He bit back a smile and decided not to waste any more time, eagerly returning to his room, and to you.

When he opened the door, you were sitting on his bed again, hands folded neatly in your lap. Whatever confidence he had before was shattered upon seeing you. He hastily closed the door and leaned his back against it for support, chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath, because your shirt was long gone, now folded in a neat pile on his desk chair. All that remained to cover your breasts was that lacy nude-colored bra that had been driving him crazy ever since you’d arrived. It was all he could do to stand there and gawk, practically drooling at the sight of your supple tits sitting so pretty, so perky and just for him to see. You laughed a little at his reaction, finding his inexperience endlessly amusing– and arousing.

“Get on your knees,” you ordered, voice a bit softer than it had been before, but still commanding.

“Yes...” he breathed.

Without hesitating for even a second, Gyutaro dropped to his hands and knees, never breaking eye contact with your chest. Before you could even tell him to, he read your mind and started to slowly crawl across the room towards the bed, all the while gazing up at you reverently. When he finally reached the edge of the bed, he sat right between your legs and took one in his hand, closing his eyes and pressing gentle kisses all over it. The blissful feeling of your warm skin coming into contact with his lips made him moan out loud every single time he repeated the action. He looked so pussydrunk already, you almost regretted having to give him his next order.

“Stop. Sit there like a good boy and watch me take my pants off.”

He eagerly nodded and withdrew, dropping his hands into his lap and conveniently placing them right over his growing bulge. Even the tiny amount of friction that caused elicited a grunt from him, which he immediately regretted.

“I never said you could touch yourself. Just watch.”

He whined, but obeyed. Slowly, you stood up and unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the waistband over your hips, down past your plush thighs, and finally to your ankles, where you paused.

“Gyu, you wanna do the rest for me?” you asked, gesturing to the material pooling around your ankles.

“God, yes, please, I wanna take your pants off. Your thighs are so…” he cut himself off with a shallow sigh that was more of a moan than anything else.

“C-can I touch them, please?” he asked, eyes shining with hope.

“Since you asked so nicely, yes–”

Before you could even finish, he was plunging his face into the soft flesh, inhaling deeply and spluttering out unintelligible praises.

“Ngh– oh god, ‘s so good, you’re so s-soft, ‘s even better than I imagined, want you so bad, god please, need you…”

You felt a tingle in your stomach at his ragged voice praising you. You weren’t expecting him to be so vocal, but admittedly, you liked it. A lot. You raked your fingers against his scalp, almost gently, suddenly filled with a bit of tenderness for the boy. It was a surprise to you that he was making you feel anything at all, since he seemed so incapable just a few short moments ago. Maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye, you thought.

After a few more seconds of indulgence, you took up a fistful of his hair and gave it a good, sharp yank, pulling his flushed face out of your thighs. His eyes were half-lidded, and a drunk sort of smile adorned his lips.

“Come on, take my pants off,” you urged, tapping his knee with your foot. He nodded, springing into action, but he surprised you yet again when he leaned down and took the fabric between his teeth, pulling it off you the rest of the way and leaving it in a pile on the floor. Your jaw actually dropped. Had he really never done this before? In no time at all, he had returned to your thighs, now nipping at them with his sharp teeth. Your clit throbbed.

“Ah…” you moaned softly, almost too quietly for him to hear– but not quite. He froze, causing you to squirm, pressing your thighs together.

“C-can I…” he started, hooking a finger under the waistband of your panties and burning holes in them with his eyes. You nodded, lifting your hips to help him, and in much the same manner he had taken off your pants, he took them in his teeth and slid them down your thighs, grazing your flesh with his pointy canines. As soon as they were off your body, he tossed them aside and found himself face-to-face with your bare, glistening cunt. Your legs were spread, inviting him in.

“Have you ever given head before, Gyu?” you asked, leaning back on your palms comfortably and looking down at him.

“No, but I think I know what to do, if you’ll let me try…” he said eagerly, sounding surprisingly confident.

“Show me what you got,” you said. Then, you placed a hand on the back of his head, preparing to pull his hair if he got too rough, which, admittedly, was what you were expecting.

Gently, tentatively, Gyutaro stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe up your cunt, making sure to dip his tongue into your hole and get a good taste of your juices. Your clit throbbed again, and you shamelessly bucked your hips up into his mouth, already needing more of him. He let out a long, whiny moan, eyelids fluttering shut in ecstasy as he melted into your touch.

“Taste so good, Y/N, fuckk…” He dipped his head back down for more, prodding his warm tongue into you even deeper and bumping his nose against your clit. Your back arched, and your grip on his hair tightened. He changed tactics, deciding to try sucking gently on your clit and kissing every part of your pussy he could reach. Occasionally he’d flick his tongue against your clit, making you yelp and roll your hips into his face.

“Doing so good Gyu, such a good boy,” you said breathlessly, allowing a few more soft moans to leave your lips as a thank you to him. He whined into your pussy, sending vibrations through your body. You felt something tighten in your stomach.

“Fuck me with your tongue. Jus’ like that– Oh, fuck, just like that, Gyu,” you growled, feeling your walls get tighter around his tongue by the second. He let out a string of whimpers as he mercilessly thrusted his tongue into your dripping wet hole, so deep that he could barely breathe. His chin and lips were completely coated in your slick, and he couldn’t get enough of your scent.

“Ah- ah- I’m gonna cum, Gyu, don’t you dare fucking stop,” you cried, violently pushing his face into your pussy one final time, allowing his tongue to drag against a sensitive spot on your walls. He was such a mess, slurping up everything you gave him as you came around his tongue. He lapped at your clit, letting out a series of broken moans at the taste of your cum. You rode his face through your orgasm, only stopping when the sharp sensation of overstimulation started to take over your body, at which point you yanked his head away from your center.

You were both breathing heavily as you stared into his amber eyes, which were gazing up at you with complete and utter astonishment. For once in your life, you had no idea what to say.

“Did that feel good?” he asked quietly, smiling his lopsided smile.

You slapped him across the face.

For the second time that day, you slapped him across the face, and for the second time that day, it made his cock so hard it burned. But at the same time, his heart dropped.

“You didn’t like it,” he whispered, more to himself. He looked away, fighting the urge to cup his stinging cheek, but you gently grabbed his jaw and turned it to face you again.

“No, I liked it. I just think you look really pretty with my handprint on your cheek.”

He gulped. The smile returned to his face. He just couldn’t help it, he practically had hearts in his eyes when he looked up at you.

“I- I think…I’m in love with you,” he breathed. You grinned.

“You’re gonna love me even more after I ride you. Bed. On your back,” you ordered, moving over to make room for him. As he got himself situated, you unclasped your bra and threw it aside, sitting back on your knees to give him a good view. You massaged your tits gently, throwing your head back and moaning when your fingers grazed your nipples. Gyutaro watched your every move, memorizing your sounds and facial expressions. Everything about you was gorgeous to him, and he really meant it when he said he loved you. He was absolutely enamored.

His dick was once again straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released, and this time, you gave it the attention it needed. You hovered your hips over his, letting your tits dangle in his face, and stuck a hand in between your bodies to cup his balls. His entire body jerked slightly to the left at the feeling of your warm hand holding him through his shorts. You squeezed gently, and he let out a cry. Tears pricked his eyes and his heart was practically beating out of his chest. He was trying so hard to be good for you, to control the urge to rip off his stupid shorts and shove his hot shaft into your pussy, all the way up to his balls. He wanted nothing more than to pump you full of his cum, to show you how fucking hard you made him.

“Does my pretty boy wanna stuff me full of his cock?” you teased, tracing a fat vein up his shaft with your fingertip. He nodded fervently, whining out a pathetic “mmm-hmm” in response. A tear slid down his flushed cheek. You licked it up.

“Take them off. Let me see you,” you said.

He sniffed and nodded, sitting up and rubbing the remaining tears from his eyes. He reached for the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up his body, but stopped halfway through, suddenly feeling insecure. What if you didn’t like what you saw and changed your mind? What if he was too skinny for you, or too scarred? A pang of fear shot through his heart at the thought, and he was stuck, frozen with his shirt halfway up his ribs. Thankfully, you knew what he was thinking.

“Come on, pretty, let me see you. Be a good boy for me. I just wanna touch you,” you whispered, letting your fingertips dance across the exposed skin of his ribcage. They left goosebumps in their wake, breaking him out of his trance and giving him the final push he needed to finish what he was doing. In no time at all, his shirt and shorts were off, leaving just the boxers. They were absolutely covered in wet splotches, and the outline of his dick was well-defined against the darkened fabric. You licked your lips and pulled the waistband, only to let it snap back into place, making him yelp. You giggled and mumbled something about how cute he was. The blush that erupted across his face spread all the way up to his ears.

Once he was free of his boxers too, you straddled his hips and leaned onto one elbow to press a searing hot kiss to his cracked lips– the first kiss you two had ever shared. He moaned into your mouth absolutely desperately, and you felt his cock push out a bead of precum, which smeared all over your thigh as his hips stuttered into yours. You sighed in satisfaction, sucking on his bottom lip, and feeling him up with your free hand. You pinched one of his nipples, and the reaction it elicited from him sent a wave of desire crashing through your core.

“Ple-e-e-ease,” he cried, voice cracking as his back arched. His hands grabbed any part of you they could find, which ended up being your tits that were dangling in his face. He squeezed them roughly, his hands completely full of your warmth. He thumbed your nipples the same way he’d seen you do to yourself earlier, making you moan loudly.

“Oh…ah!” you yelped, not expecting the sudden stimulation.

“Please Y/N, please, please, please please! Ah, ’m gonna lose my mind ‘f you don’t… ah, ngh- please?” he begged, eyes wide and hungry. You’d have to be crazy to say no to that.

“Alright, alright. ‘M gonna make you feel good now, okay?” you crooned, grabbing his throbbing dick and lining it up with your soaking entrance.

“Yes! Yes! God, yes!” he chanted, throwing his head back in relief as he felt his swollen tip prod your lips. And when he finally pushed past them and slid deliciously slowly into your thick, glossy walls, his eyes flew open again, and every muscle in his body tensed up. The moan that was stuck in his throat was only released when he bottomed out and your ass bounced against his pelvis, coming to rest there. You were so full you couldn’t even move, let alone breathe.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I think I’m gonna- I’m gonna- I-” he cried, body shuddering underneath you. You sighed, grinding down on him, smushing his tip against your cervix and giving him exactly what he needed. He practically screamed in pleasure, gasping desperately for air in between moans.

“Ahhhh! Oh, Ohhh! Shiiiit! I- I love you!” he blurted out again. You felt his hot cum squirt out against your walls in short bursts, surprised there was any left after earlier. In fact, there was so much that it leaked out from your tight hole and pooled around the base of his cock. You stayed still for a few moments, letting him catch his breath and process the fact that he had just lost his virginity. Once his breathing had returned to a relatively normal pace, you started pumping yourself up and down on his cock again, chasing your own high. Though he was only half hard when you began, it didn’t stay that way for long.

“Sh-shit! Fuck Y/N, what are you d-doing?! Gah, pleeease!” he whined, body spasming involuntarily in reaction to the overstimulation. You ignored his protestations and wrapped a hand around his throat, squeezing gently.

“Sorry, baby. Your dick just feels so good…I need more,” you apologized disingenuously, speeding up your thrusts. Your pussy was sucking him in at breakneck speed, and even though it hurt, there was something addicting about it– just like how it felt to have your hand cutting off his airflow.

He reached up and placed a hand on top of yours, pressing down even harder and looking into your eyes.

“More,” he rasped. You choked out a moan. He smirked deliriously.

“You- you like when I choke you?” you asked, grunting as his tip hit that sensitive spot inside you over and over again.

“Yes.”

You could feel tingles of warmth spread through your body, and you were clenching so hard around him you were afraid he’d lose circulation, but it wasn’t enough.

“I need- I need you to touch me. Do you know how to do that, Gyu?” you asked between gasps, feeling the flames of your orgasm lick against your stomach. He shook his head sorrowfully.

“Please– teach me,” he choked out. You nodded and loosened your hold on his neck, instead grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand down to your clit. You pressed his fingers into it and rubbed yourself onto them as you continued to bounce on his dick. He got the gist and started moving them back and forth to help you out.

Stars danced across your vision. You squeezed your eyes shut and bowed your head down to the crook of his neck, gasping as a wave of indescribable pleasure crashed over you. He felt your pussy flutter around him, and that sensation itself was enough to send him over the edge for the third time that night. At this point, he was shooting blanks. He whimpered softly into your ear, continuously reminding you how good you felt and how much he loved you. You bit down on his shoulder as your body shook, the most intense orgasm of your life ripping through you. Gyutaro was on the verge of blacking out from the amount of pleasure he was feeling.

After you had finished riding your orgasm out, you slowly pulled him out of you, pushing the last of his cum out onto his stomach before rolling over and lying limp on your back. Both of your chests were rising and falling in sync as you laid side by side, staring at the ceiling. And when Gyutaro reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours, you didn’t mind one bit.

#demon slayer x reader #gyutaro smut #gyutaro x reader #demon slayer smut #gyutaro #kny smut #smut #red handed #red handed part 2

[enbyenvy666]

May I request an a/b/o hitoshi shinso x cismale reader? They're all aged up, and a hero Shinso meets civilian reader. Just some fluffy interactions of shinso courting the reader, with a fluffy'n'smut ending? Thank you for your time!

wow this took so long to write lol

honestly i just took this idea and ran with it so i hope the wait was worth it ! also i haven't written for Shinso before so hopefully he isn't too ooc

(also he doesn't have a cannon hero name so i tried to get around that by the reader giving him a nickname instead)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

CONTENT WARNINGS - 18+ MDNI, a/b/o, alpha!Shinso, omega!reader, slight scent and breeding kink, knotting, mating press, reader is a paramedic, reader treats shinso's minor wounds, fluff n smut, no beta we die like men w/c - 3.7k

Red and blue flashing lights made Shinso’s head hurt, straining his already tired eyes. Police cars and ambulances surrounded him and his fellow heroes, showing up after a particularly rough takedown. He had a couple of scrapes and bruises, but the paramedics wouldn’t let him leave before they assessed him. The only problem was, that there were others with more severe injuries than his own so it was taking a while.

As he sat on the curb, fiddling with his capture weapon, two work boot-clad feet entered his view. His purple eyes trailed up their legs, noticing the deep green uniform they wore with the paramedic shield embroidered over their chest pocket which held a couple of pens.

“Alright Mr. Hero, it’s your turn,” you grinned down at him, waving him towards one of the empty ambulances. He stood with a groan, feeling one of the cuts on his arm burn and sting. You climbed into the back of the ambulance, guiding Shinso to sit on the stretcher. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you as you fluffed around his, slipping a sphygmomanometer around his arm and a pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Any pain anywhere?” You asked, and if he wasn’t looking at your lips he wouldn’t have noticed.

“No,” he muttered, watching how you gently inspected the cut on his arm. Even through the latex of the sanitised gloves, he could feel the warmth of your fingertips. Just when the band around his upper arm felt like it couldn’t get any tighter, it slowly deflated. You looked at the reading and smiled.

“Blood pressure is good.” But when you read the result of the oximeter, you frowned a little. Shinso didn’t like seeing you frown, and he wanted to do anything to see you smile again.

“Pulse is a little high,” you mumbled. If it was possible, he would’ve slowed his pulse at that moment, just to make this stranger happy. Readjusting the device on his finger, you also squeezed his hand in yours absentmindedly as you typed in his results onto your little laptop.

“I’ll keep this on a little longer, but otherwise you’re in good shape! I’ll just clean up your wounds a little and you should be good to go.” Finally, that smile was back on your face, showing off your pretty teeth while you changed your gloves.

The alcohol used to disinfect his cuts and scrapes stung, every time he would wince you would softly apologise. One by one, you tended to his wounds and with each bandage he felt himself growing more and more infatuated. As you softly dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton pad over the smell scrapes near his hairline, he spotted something shiny under your uniform collar.

It was a scent-coating collar, torn and ragged around the edges, clearly old and worn out, but as he inhaled, he could smell the faint scent of you.

“You’re an omega,” he mumbled. You chuckled nervously, movements stuttering for a moment before you leaned away from him.

“Oh, yeah, guess I need a new one huh?” You joked, referring to the band that circled your neck. With a bandage in hand, you leaned back over Shinso and softly pressed it over the scrape, smoothing the edges down with your fingers.

“I’m just gonna check your eyes for any signs of a concussion,” you explained as you pulled out a pen from your pocket, clicking the small button on the side of it. The end lit up, and you pointed it towards his eyes.

“You should be fine… just making sure because you did hit your… head.” You trailed off, too concentrated on the way his pupils contracted and expanded. The way you bit your lip made his heart flutter, and he almost got worried the oximeter would read too high again. But that would mean he would get to stay with you longer so maybe it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Just keep staring at my nose.” Gladly. The light flickering in and out of his vision irritated his eyes even more, so he was thankful when you pocketed the pen and smiled.

“Alright, you’re good to go!” He almost wished there was something wrong just so you would stay with him, but alas, he left the ambulance. All of the other ambulances and police cars were gone, leaving just you, him and your partner.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“No problem, Mr. Hero,” you grinned back.

“It’s-“ The walkie on your belt started barking out codes and addresses, to which you grimaced. Must not be good.

“Shit, gotta go,” you muttered, quickly turning and rushing back into the passenger seat of the ambulance. Your partner got in the driver's seat, and just before they turned on the lights and sirens, you leaned out the window and shouted goodbye to Shinso. He couldn’t stop his lazy grin as he waved back at you, watching you zoom away, off to save someone’s life, he presumed.

He didn’t realise how much of an impact you made on him until he had another rough take down and you weren’t one of the paramedics that showed up. He felt disappointed, and the way the paramedics tended to his injuries wasn’t as gentle as you were. He wasn’t sure why, but he missed you.

It took some searching, but eventually, he found you at an ambulance station during one of your few breaks from being on the road helping patients. As you were taking stock of the inventory in your ambulance, Shinso’s messy indigo hair.

“Hi Mr.Hero,” you greeted happily, climbing down from the back of the ambulance, clipboard in hand.

“What can I do for you? If you’re looking for medical assistance I’m required to tell you to go to the hospital, I can take you there if you need?”

“No, I’m okay,” Shinso denied. While your eyes flashed with confusion, the same gentle yet gleeful smile stayed on your lips.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

“Oh! There’s no need, I’m just doing my job,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. It looked soft, and he wanted to hold it, brush his thumb over your knuckles, or maybe his lips. To stop him from grabbing your hand and doing just that, he fiddled with his capture weapon, just like he was doing when he first laid eyes on you.

While he didn’t like you denying your hard work as ‘just part of the job’, he understood where you were coming from. He often has the same mentality when it comes to being a hero, and that makes him feel closer to you.

“I also wanted to,” he hesitated, feeling an unusual anxiety bubbling up into his throat. Why did this feel so difficult?

“Ask you to dinner.”

Your smile dropped, and so did Shinso’s stomach. Your cheeks grew warm as you looked away from the hero, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your giddy grin. If you had a tail, it would’ve been wagging at the speed of sound. Composing yourself, you looked back at Shinso, but nervously couldn’t meet his hooded eyes.

“I’d love to.”

The weight on his shoulders lifted, and he quietly sighed in relief with the faintest smile. But as soon as you started to organise when to go out, you both realised that your schedules didn’t align very well. Shinso kept on his stoic appearance even as he felt his hopes crumble. Was this really how it ended, before it even started, all because of conflicting schedules?

But finally, there was a night when you and him were free. It was a month away, but at least it was something. That date is what carried him through work. On tough days, he would remind himself of his dinner with you, counting down the days until it finally arrived.

He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt, but at least his stoic demeanour didn’t betray that fact. The flame of the candle on the table flickered and swayed, Shinso’s purple eyes watching its every move. Time felt like it was moving too slowly. What felt like ten minutes of watching the flame dance was truly only a minute, but every second of it made him more and more anxious.

The longer he waited, the more he fretted that you weren’t going to show up. Perhaps the month's wait had given you enough time to change your mind. Tugging on his sleeves and collar didn’t help to cool him down, but it was the only sign that he was upset. Just as he was about to get up and leave, the chair across from him was pulled back.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” How could he be mad at you? Your skin glowed in the candlelight, your lips parted in an apologetic smile that showed your beautiful teeth (even with any imperfections). You sat down before holding up a single rose in your hand and handing it to him.

“As an apology.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” you explained sheepishly, hands nervously fiddling in your lap under the table.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect,” he smiled softly. Thankfully dinner continued without a hitch, except for when a fan wanted a picture with Shinso. He was annoyed until he caught you stifling a giggle across the table. He loved to see you laugh.

When dinner was over, he didn’t want to say goodbye, even as you stood outside the restaurant, a cab waiting, he didn’t want to let go of your hand. It just fit so well in his. As you turned to him, looking up into his tired eyes, you smiled.

“I had a really good time,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. Lifting up onto your toes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. While it was only quick, to Shinso it felt like an eternity. Your soft lips on his skin, your scent clouding his senses, your palm on his chest to steady yourself. It took everything in him to not sweep you off your feet at that moment and claim you as his omega. But alas, you stepped away, with a final call for him to text you before you climbed into the taxi.

He was more infatuated than ever, finding more and more opportunities to visit you at the ambulance station. After learning your favourite snacks, he would drop them off for your lunch or dinner if you were working later. Sometimes he’d even leave flowers and on a Valentine’s Day when you were working, he left chocolates and a stuffed bear.

On nights when it was too late for a date but you were both free, you would talk on the phone for hours.

“And then she tried to hit me when I tried to check her blood pressure! I get that no one likes it, but come on! There’s no need to get violent,” you ranted.

“I know what you mean, I feel like old ladies just want to let their anger out at anyone who cares. One time I got a lady's purse back from a robber and she yelled at me for swinging her purse around too much,” Shinso replied with a soft chuckle. You bit your lip when you heard the sound. It was melodic.

“I mean, we’re just trying to help, aren’t we?” You agreed, rolling onto your stomach, legs idly swinging behind you.

“How did you go after the handoff today?” Shinso asked, running his fingers through his soft hair as he also lounged on his bed. Earlier that day, he caught a man in a hit-and-run who didn’t quite like being held accountable. He was claiming he had chest pains which meant an ambulance had to be called, and Shinso was super happy when he saw you climb out of the vehicle.

“He got worse once you and the cops were gone, the asshole even ripped off my collar,” you grumbled. Shinso felt possessiveness and anger at the thought of that guy putting his hands on you and harming you.

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” He asked.

“I’m fine, my partner managed to subdue him until we got him to the hospital.” It eased his worries to hear you were unharmed, but he was still worried about you.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” He asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Your hum through the speaker sounded like a soothing drone, he could use it as white noise if he wanted to.

“Don’t think so, why?”

“Do you want to come over? Dinner and a movie at my place?” Your legs kicked behind you like an excited teen, butterflies swarming your stomach.

“I’d love to.”

Both you and Shinso slept with grins, excited for the next evening. Work felt like a breeze, nothing could get you down when you knew you would be seeing Shinso when your shift ended. He felt the same, if not more excited and anxious.

Before you knew it, you were standing on his doorstep, fist raised shakily to knock on the door. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood, it swung open, revealing Shinso. He must’ve been waiting on the other side of the door.

He invited you in, to which you graciously accepted. You didn’t miss how he held one arm behind his back, but you were too distracted by looking around his home to say anything. It was cute, and you noticed the cat toys strewn about. Shinso cleared his throat, your attention now trained on him.

“I got something for you,” he mumbled, revealing the box he was keeping hidden. He seemed nervous, which made you feel anxious in return. With ginger touches, you took the box and opened it enough to peek inside. It was a collar, amethyst in colour with shining silver metal on the buckle. A definite upgrade from your last one.

“Shinso!” You gasped, picking it up from the box. The inside of it was soft so it wouldn’t irritate your skin, and you could smell that slightly chemical scent that would cover yours.

“It’s beautiful!”

“Do you like it?” He still asked, wanting to quell his anxiety.

“I love it,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, and pulling him into a tight hug. He quickly reciprocated, head tucked into your shoulder. Without the old collar, he could smell your scent entirely. It was sweet, intoxicating. You pulled away and turned your back to him while holding up the collar.

While he wished you didn’t have to cover your scent, he still complied, clipping on the collar, wanting to do anything to make you happy. Using your phone as a mirror, you admired how the piece looked around your neck, unable to hold in your excited squeal.

Pulling the hero in for another hug, you muttered repeated thank yous. He held you in his arms as you pulled back to look up at him. Shinso’s smile was soft, but it was enough to make you feel jittery. With your gaze locked on his, the world around you fell silent.

Slowly, he leaned down, lips meeting yours in a kiss so passionate it made your knees weak. But you weren’t worried, you knew he would catch you. His hands groped and tugged on your body, palms rough from years of hero work. Your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands. Everything grew heated, clothes striped and initial date plans pushed to the side until you were finished.

The rest of the night felt feather light, and like there was a warm glow around Shinso, the edges of your vision tinted in rose. Dinner tasted like magic because he cooked it. And the movie was perfect because he picked it. Everything about him was amazing. You were on cloud nine, even as you went to bed alone in your home.

But that all changed by the next morning. Your body felt hot, coated in a sheen of sweat, and struggling to breathe. Stumbling out of bed and making your way to the bathroom, you could feel the slick between your thighs and realise how hard you were. Your reflection showed your sweat-dotted face and messy hair. Your cheeks didn’t cool even after you splashed cold water on your face, so all you could do was slink back into bed.

Your encounter with Shinso last night must’ve had more of an effect on you than you thought, leaving you in heat and needing more. Even as your hands shook, you managed to dial the man in question.

“Hello?” He spoke into the phone. His voice made you whimper, which he heard.

“‘toshi,” you whimpered.

“Is everything okay, baby?” He asked.

“Need you. So bad,” you panted, unable to resist the temptation of palming yourself through your underwear.

“What’s wrong?” The concerned tone in his voice was noticeable.

“In, ah, heat.” You swore you could hear him fumble the phone.

“I’ll be right there okay? Just hold on for me.” He hung up, much to your chagrin as you wanted to keep listening to his voice. It felt like an eternity before he finally showed up. You met him at the door, almost tackling him the second the door opened. He managed to get you back inside, even as you tried to climb him like a tree.

With your arms and legs wrapped around him, he carried you back inside, trying to ignore the way your scent made his body react. He felt himself growing hard, and a hot flush washed over his body. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, but he needed to wait a little while longer, then he could have you. Carrying you to your bedroom was the easy part, but getting you to let go of him was another level of difficulty.

You ended up just dragging him onto the bed with you, desperately clawing at his back to keep him close, to drown in him. His hands shook, his grip on you wavering as he fought his urges. As much as he wanted to breed you, he wanted to make his omega as comfortable as possible. 

Finally unlatching you from his body, leaving you to whine and squirm on the bed. Hitoshi shrugged the duffle bag off his shoulder, one you hadn’t even noticed. Blanket after blanket, he pulled them from the bag and placed them around you on the bed, creating a nest for you. 

“I wanted to bring pillows but I didn’t have enough room-” your lips collided with his, arms pulling him close till your body was flush against his. 

“It’s perfect,” you whispered between kisses, slowly pulling him down to the bed. Desperately needing air, he parted from your kiss as your back hit the mattress. You looked like a god below him, the sweat dotting your skin made your body glow. Your hands cupped his face, warm palms on warmer cheeks. 

“Please Hitoshi, make me your omega, be my alpha.” All self-control left him when he heard those words fall from your sweet lips. Capturing your lips once more, his needy hands started pulling on your clothes, desperately wanting to feel your bare skin against his. He couldn’t get them off fast enough, almost resorting to tearing them off when your lips trailed down his neck. Your scent had flooded his senses, his vision clouded fuchsia and all he could think about was you, you, you. 

The moment your underwear was pushed down enough, your hand travelled down between your thighs, fingers collecting the slick around your hole before gently but eagerly pressing them inside. You couldn’t wait for Hitoshi to undress himself, and the sight of you preparing yourself for his cock was something he never wanted to forget. As soon as his clothes were off, his fingers prodded your entrance. Reluctantly you removed your fingers, but you were given little time to dwell before his thicker digits fingered you. 

You occupied your hand by jerking your cock, the wetness on your fingers helping your hand glided smoothly. There were practically hearts in Hitoshi’s eyes as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together when he added a third finger to your wet hole. 

He couldn’t wait any longer, retracting his fingers and hooking your knees over his shoulders. Using your slick as lube on his cock, he pressed his tip to your tight ring of muscle, biting his lip to hold in a hiss of pleasure when he slowly thrusted himself inside you. You, however, moaned unabashedly as his cock carved itself inside you, making it fit perfectly like two puzzle pieces. 

Hitoshi was quick to start an even pace, pressing your knees to your shoulders so his cock could thrust even deeper inside you. You couldn’t grab him in this position as much as you wished you could, instead twisting his blankets in a white-knuckled grip. Your eyes rolled back, swearing he was rearranging your guts at that very moment. Hitoshi couldn’t stop his groans as he felt your walls cling to his cock, pulling him back in every time his hips pulled away. 

Precum dribbled from your tip, leaving glistening droplets on your stomach. The purple-haired man above you leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours to inhale your scent, angling his cock to hit your prostate in the process. Each thrust against the spot sent shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through your body, making your fingers and toes tingle. 

Groans turned to growls as Hitoshi felt his peak building, his knot beginning to swell. He rut could only rut himself inside you, letting go of your knees to wrap his arms around your arched back instead, bodies pressed together. Your ankles quickly locked behind his back, preventing him from pulling out, as if he even wanted to, nails leaving red marks across his shoulder blades. Hitoshi tucked his head between your neck and shoulder, teeth brushing against your skin, but not yet biting down. 

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growled over and over, his voice straining and growing in pitch until he reached his peak, ropes of cum coating your insides as his teeth finally sunk into flesh. The feeling of him filling you with his seed, his knot locking you together, and him officially making you his omega brought you to orgasm. Hitoshi’s hips finally stilled, panting against your neck as you both came down from your highs. Your fingers played with his soft hair, unable to stop a smile from gracing your lips. 

Hitoshi pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark on your shoulder before lifting his head. He smiled softly, threading his fingers with yours as he kissed you deeply. 

“My omega.”

-----

i hope you enjoyed :) also writing the next chapter of personal pornstar so stay tuned ;)

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi x male reader #shinso x reader #shinso x male reader #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi x male reader #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

👉🏽👈🏽 spare any jjk faerie au headcanons you have cooked up for a desperate lass?

of course because man do i have some thoughts as a lover of faeries. i could probably go on about this for hours

gojou satoru | elf

a prince hailing from a seelie court

his very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth and his eyes are ones that can see mana and the shape of the soul among other things

presents himself as a revel-loving fool he simply enjoys games, but he is a lot more observant and calculating than he lets on

in his youth he often toted on and on about the stupidity of love, likening it to more of a curse and an ailment that turned the sane into fools so outside of the obligation of having heirs, he doesn't desire love in the slightest

until he meets falls in love at first sight with you, a banshee who saved his life when you coincidentally happened to be passing by after he found himself in a bloody situation

causes the entire court to go into an uproar when he immediately announces his intentions to make you his queen never mind the fact you haven't even accepted his proposal yet

his mother doesn't like you in the slightest. she gave birth to one whose very birth has shaken the earth and if her son is going to marry anyone it is going to be someone more fitting of that position

satoru ignores all that in favor of doing his best to woo you now that you're stuck living in his palace until a revel thrown in your honor passes

yes he knows this very much so makes him a hypocrite but he doesn't want anyone else

asks you all sorts of question about being a banshee. how your cries work, if there are different wails for different situations, how long you've been heralding death

at least you know the man is nothing if not passionate. it's hard resisting his charms as he asks you gently each time to marry him. you think you just might say yes when you feel the ghost of his lips against yours

getou suguru | phouka

if he isn't being an advisor to seelie prince satoru, suguru is a human-hating phouka who is, unfortunately, stuck living with one

unlike humans, the folk are creatures who keep their word so when you are able to best him in something for a favor he's inclined to keep his promise

and yes, he promises that he won't harm you or your loved ones after your deal has come to a close. yes, this includes things you personally consider harmful ranging from murder to physical attacks

for a human, you're quite clever in looking out for any loopholes. you apparently weren't lying when you said you were a faerie enthusiast

but that's the extent of suguru's praise when he learns why you were so adamant to find a faerie to help with your problems ー

apparently you took a botany elective thinking it would be an easy A only to now be just barely passing the class

yes, that's right. you want a member of the folk, a phouka, to be a glorified tutor until the end of the semester just to make sure you don't get a failing grade. apparently, suguru gave you far too much credit

still, you end up growing on him overtime with your sense of humor and you're way of looking at things. he hates to put it so simply but he supposes you aren't like other humans he has come across

(suguru later nearly destroys your textbook because he himself grows frustrated with your class. the human sciences are just as confusing to him as it is you. but your grade has technically improved since he began helping you so it's not entirely a loss is it?)

nanami kento | elf-kobold hybrid

an elf-kobold hybrid with horns that gently curve atop his head akin to an imperial demon

a record keeper often has work writing down events as they take place as well as organizing historical texts as he sees fit. it's a tiring and thankless job but it is something his family has been doing for generations and he sees no reason to break tradition now

the one saving grace he has are naps he enjoys taking between late afternoon and dusk, religiously, by a lake close to the palace

you're a swan maiden who calls the lake home and his quiet company. it's winter in the human realm and rather than fly south with your flock, you decided to spend the season in faerie and decided that particular lake would be home

you're a playful, impish thing who enjoys presenting nanami with riddles as he grows tired and you watch over him to keep him safe while he sleeps. a deal you've both made in favor of him bringing you delicious sweets from the palace

it's quite the favorable deal for you both

of course, inevitably you two get to talking and find yourselves having more and more in-depth conversations as the week goes by

what would nanami do if he decided to break family tradition?

where have you traveled in the human realm?

as a swan maiden, you seldom ever take off your cloak of feathers. there's no reason to ask, nanami knows the rules that swan maiden and selkies follow. should your cloak or coat be taken, you're forced to follow their will

as such, nanami never refers to your coat in the slightest. he never even asks about it

it's a great sign of trust among your kind to ever be vulnerable with your cloak. something nanami learns first hand when he wakes up one particular evening and finds that you have covered him with your cloak to make sure he stays warm

fushiguro toji | boggart

a lord in an unseelie court of faerie, who works in service to the high king as his sword

had a mortal wife who died centuries ago and together they had a half-human son

his son lives among humans presently and while they don't readily talk to one another, toji often has his men sent to the human realm to watch over his son and give him reports on his wellbeing

doesn't imagine himself ever loving someone he did his wife again until running across you a human who stumbled into the wrong mound

allows you to stay in his fief until it is otherwise safe for you to return home

you say you're a dancer so you dance for him and keep him entertained as a sort of thanks for not promptly killing you when you trespassed on his territory

the tension between you both is palpable to many. his staff who are forced to wait on your hand and foot as his guest and to the gentry you see at unseelie revels

the ones that gossip about how it isn't strange for toji to take human lovers

and yet despite that, no matter how close you get, toji keeps a distance between you both that. he fell in love with a human once, still remembers the sting of watching his beloved wife grow old and wither away in front of his very eyes

it's a pain he doesn't want to revisit ever again

okkotsu yuuta | human

unlike most stories of selkies and their evil human spouses, you're marriage with yuuta is quite the happy one in the seaside town you call home

yours was an accidental love story where he accidentally caught you in his net, only to release you

the next day, you brought piles of fresh fish and crabs and shrimp by his beachside home as thanks, much to his confusion as to where the catch came from

you usually followed his boat when he goes to fish and he learns how to recognize you, often laughing sheepishly when he saw you, warning you not to get too close so you don't end up in the net again

it isn't until a stormy night when yuuta fell overboard that you did anything drastic such as save his life, taking him to the shore and giving him cpr

you stayed with him all night until the storm passed keeping him warm

when yuuta woke up to seeing a beautiful, naked person by his side, he was understandably surprised. even more so when you transformed into a seal right in front of him. that was his introduction to the folk, to magic

now he's surrounded by you and your ocean-filled magic everyday in your little cottage by the sea

you come and go as you please, sometimes for weeks sometimes even for months at a time depending on the time of year

but you always come back and yuuta is happy to see you every time

#look she's answering #anon #jjk faerie au #headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #yuuta x reader

[hamlets-ak]

ice cream hunt ༊*·˚

༘♡ summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the english language

on a hot summer afternoon reader and timmy go for an ice cream hunt in nyc

It was a warm smokey summer afternoon. New York was an oven. The day; Thursday, the most boring day of the week.

Windows and balcony doors opened wide, let the last sun rays swim inside your apartment alongside a small breeze that made the curtains fly and then linger on the floor. There was music from your neighbor's house concealed by the loud tireless honking of cars down the street.

You and Timothée were laying on the couch, only wearing the sunlight, half-asleep, half-awake, watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing TV shows. He held your feet on his lap as his head fell back melancholically, breaths escaping his pouty lips.

« Tim are you sleeping? », you asked. He mumbled something in response and then turned his head in your direction, face red, sweat holding onto the skin under his eyes.

« It’s so hot, » he told you. You smiled.

« You know what I want? », you asked.

« No. » You lightly tilted your head, the smile gradually growing until it reached your ears. Timothée groaned pulling his hair back and holding it out of his face already knowing what you wanted to tell him. « Baby, it’s so hot... »

« Come on! Let’s go out for a walk. »

« Someone literally got a heat stroke the other day- », Tim said. You rolled your eyes.

« You are just being lazy, » you murmured throwing your head back dramatically.

« I’m not being lazy. It’s just too hot outside. »

« We can go for a walk and get some ice cream. »

« Ice cream would be nice, » he mumbled.

« Then let’s go get it! », you said sitting better, your back leaning on the couch. Timothée just looked at you as you took your feet off him and stood up. « Come on, get dressed, » you motioned your hand to him.

« I’m so tired, I can’t even get up, » he told you, eyes following all your moves. You threw a t-shirt on top of his face.

« How can you be tired? We’ve been watching that crap all day. »

« Look, » he uncovered his face. « If you manage to pull me up from the couch, we’ll go get ice cream. » Your stare stayed at him for a few seconds and then you smiled.

« Your laziness is next level, » a chuckle escaped your lips. He beamed at you. « You want me to get you dressed too? »

« Yes, please. »

« Timothée get up, » you said putting on your t-shirt.

« Ah, help me, » he tented his arms forward.

« Lazy! »

« What do you mean? That’s my charm, » he smiled.

You walked closer to him and he tied his arms around your hips pulling you closer until his cheek touched your belly. You pulled his wild hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead.

« You are a lazybones but I still love you, » you lowered your gaze at him. He looked up at you with a grin that made his eyes squint and his nose wrinkle. Timothée nodded letting you take his curls back. « Come on, » you took his hands on yours, and before letting a wet kiss on the back of his palm, you pulled him up.

« You really want ice cream, huh? », he laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips.

« Ah, you are sweaty! » You lightly pushed his chest. He grinned as he picked up his t-shirt and put it on.

« Got the keys? », he asked once you got ready.

« Got ‘em. »

Wind rushed past you with razor teeth, hot like the breath of a dragon. You strolled down the street, two flames under the starless purple sky, dark and bright, streetlights following your steps. Timothée held your hand while crossing the road and he insisted on staying on the outside of the pavement, making your walk seem like an adventure.

You asked him if he remembered what was your favorite ice cream flavor and he just rolled his eyes as if you asked him his name. You laughed about nothing special while wandering around the city, watching the colors change above your heads until the sky turned into a blue shade like the deepest part of the ocean, and you finally reached the ice cream parlor.

« What will you get? », you asked.

« What I am always getting, » Timothée said and then furrowed his eyebrows wearing his playful smile. « You remember or... »

« Or... », you shook your head questionably. « I’ll just get you whatever I want. »

« Sounds good, » he nodded, curls bouncing up and down. You smiled as your hand fumbled on his hair and pulled it behind his ears.

You left him chuckling to himself while you walked closer to the counter. His eyes followed your every move and stayed on you even when you looked away. You turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head watching the way he was staring at you with his sweet smile and red cheeks. Timothée shrugged imitating your move.

« Here you go, » you gave him his cone but quickly pulled it back to take a quick bite. He pressed his lips together looking at you for a few seconds before bringing your arm up and taking out his tongue to lick your cone. You burst into laughter at the way his nose was covered in ice cream too.

« Dummy, » you smiled cleaning his nose with your paper towel.

« Yours is better, » he said. « Wanna change? »

You slid your hand around his arm as you made your way back home slowly with steady steps and different cones, following the sidewalk.

#hamlets-ak #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet social media au #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction

[mellifluouaamor]

TANJIROU KAMADO ⍣ FEMALE READER

synopsis. tanjirou thinks you're like a flower.

you're just like a wisteria flower, TANJIROU would always think to himself. beautiful and elegant, kind yet resilient - and your beauty was akin to that of a blooming flower. there's an air of tranquility around you whenever you're on the battlefield, the smile you'd wear soothing your frazzled teammates and reassuring them that everything will be okay.

tanjirou never regretted meeting you that day - the day he saved you from being devoured. you were the only survivor of the squad that was sent to the inn infested by a formidable demon, and he clearly remembered witnessing you struggle to live as you fought with a breath style that he had never seen before: the breath of ayatori style. it appeared to branch off from the breath of love style as it heavily involved agility and flexibility, and the blade of your nichirin sword was also identical to the love pillar's. watching you fight was like watching a dancer perform, and he had never been so mesmerised by graceful movements meant to kill.

after his first meeting with you, the two of you grew closer to each other, and slowly but surely, stronger feelings blossomed in your hearts.

when the sun rose from the horizon, marking the break of dawn, tanjirou was prompted to pick up his pace and ended up jogging the rest of the way to the butterfly estate. he had received worrying news of you returning from a mission severely injured just as he completed his, and he wanted to check up on you as soon as possible.

as he approached the familiar gates of the butterfly estate, he spotted a particular flower growing amongst yellow daffodils. its striking purple colour reminded him of you, causing him to stop in his tracks. would you like this? he could bring it as a small gift since he didn't think of bringing anything for you until this moment.

without another second to waste, tanjirou knelt down and plucked the sweet violet.

❀

tanjirou spotted you lying on your side on the veranda. you were fast asleep, eyelids drawn shut and lips slightly parted as soft breaths slipped past them. traversing the garden, he soon came to a stop in front of your resting form before reaching out to brush away the stray strands of hair covering your face.

he hesitated to wake you up because of how peaceful you looked. although he could have just left the violet for you to wake up to, he wanted to give it to you in person, all so he could see your expression light up like the sky at dawn. tanjirou released a long, drawn-out sigh and then lowered himself on his knees, eyes never leaving you. he subconsciously moved his free hand to cup your face, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek.

as if on cue, you drifted out of your slumber, your eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. a slight frown etched itself onto your countenance when you tried to figure out who was in front of you.

"tanjirou...?" you mumbled, recognising his scarlet hair, "what are you doing here?" stifling a yawn, you carefully propped yourself up on your elbow, kneading one eye with a fist.

"why are you sleeping out here?" he asked, chuckling, "the mornings are still cold."

"i was stargazing last night... i guess i accidentally fell asleep," you replied, scratching your lower cheek sheepishly. you then gave tanjirou your signature smile and added, "welcome back by the way! you must be tired from your mission."

he beamed. "thank you! but i'm probably not as tired as you. you should sleep on a proper bed since you're still healing from your injuries..." his gaze swept over the bandages on your body as his red hues flashed with concern. "how are you feeling?"

"some parts of my body are sore, but i'm generally feeling okay. kochou-san said i should avoid strenuous work for now," you said, shifting your body to sit properly.

suddenly remembering the flower in his grasp, tanjirou presented you with the sweet violet he had intended to give you, making your eyes widen.

"it's for you!" he chirped, "i found a flower that reminded me of you on my way here. i... think it suits you."

your cheeks heated up at his remark. with a shy "thank you", you happily accepted the flower and inhaled its sweet scent. "it smells nice... and it's so pretty."

"just like you," tanjirou blurted out before covering his mouth upon realising what he just said.

instead of getting embarrassed, you surprised him by leaning over to kiss his cheek, eliciting a blush from him.

"you're so cute~" you cooed, giggling.

tanjirou let out a huff. before your brain could register what was happening, you found yourself being carried like a princess in his strong arms. you immediately clung to his shoulders with a squeal, afraid that he might drop you (even though you knew that he wouldn't) as he strode away.

"h-hey! put me down!" you exclaimed, kicking your legs.

feeling a bit bold, tanjirou leaned towards your face and lightly bumped your nose with his, smiling. your breath hitched in your throat; that little gesture was effective in silencing you as he brought you inside the infirmary and tucked you in bed.

truly, you're a flower he wants to protect with his life.

#loveletters—! #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #scenario #female reader

[iwanty0uu]

“𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑃𝑢𝑚 𝑃𝑢𝑚 𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟“~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · .

pt2…

A day had passed since you met connie in the auditorium of your physics class, and since you didnt have that class everyday, you decided it would be the best spend time in the library getting a head start on a paper. Your fingers quickly moved along your purple keyboard, eyes focused on the screen making sure to not accidentally delete the second page of your assignment. You were good at focusing but the bald boy wouldn’t stop crossing your mind. “hm” you thought to yourself while picking at the piece of paper with his number on it. It took everything in you to not give in and text him last night, but you stayed strong. Your focus shifted back on your paper determined to finish at least three pages as you thought of treating yourself to Starbucks and catching up on your favorite game, the Sims. “I wonder how he’s holding up in class without me” ..

~ he wasn’t holding up at all actually.

Connie grew restless shifting uncomfortably in his seat waiting for you to enter the large metal auditorium doors, he expected a brown head held up high, looking right at him with big eyes that could easily hypnotize anyone, but instead, he was met with the beady rat eyes of a bald, barley blonde old man. His grey tuxedo was made with that itchy string like material, and his black bow tie sat tightly around his fat red neck. He looked as old as time, and the wrinkles on his face made his lizard like face, made it no prettier. Disappointed, Connie continued to reminisce about yesterday. It was too soon to start missing someone he barley communicated with, he just met you and shared more words on paper with you than he did using his mouth. He couldn’t help but regret not searching you down like a hound yesterday when he had the chance.Not making his situation any better, his friends noticed how antsy Connie was and Connie could already smell their lame ass jokes. “Damn connie, you whipped over a girl you just met? You think you alecia keys or something” Jean asked, opening a Poland spring water bottle and putting it to his lips, when he was suddenly met with a fist in his stomach, causing him to choke. “Bro don’t piss me off, circus pony lookin ass, you just mad cus she noticed me and not your long headed ass.” he said mugging Jean who had tears running down his face, holding his stomach from from the pain now doubling over on his chair.” Well fuck you too” he said slapping the back of Connie’s head, the sound echoed through the room making the brunette girl laugh.

“Sasha i know your big ass not laughing” connie said turning around abruptly “my fault gang” a deadpan looked shot across her face as she put her hands up,“no need to be mean best friend” she said patting his shoulder gently. “Somebody pissed in his Henny this morning” Eren mumbled while finishing the last of his brownie. “You taking edibles at 10 in the morning…did you even drink tea?” “ why so sassy bro? we didn’t tell your girlfriend to skip class” A dark skin boy said putting his pre-rolled blunt in the Calvin Klein pouch that rested over his shoulder. “whatever man..” Connie was stressed, and school was no help, everything reminded him of you, he thought every girl with the same orange purse you had on yesterday could have been you, and scanned every room he entered for your black curls, the deep coconut infused scent of vanilla he noticed when you sat in front of him seemed to be everywhere, he smelled it so much that he thought he was going crazy. So when his friend group mentioned a kickback they were throwing, just for some close friends, he hoped desperately that you would be there. After all it was his life long best friend Sasha’s idea, and she did it because she hasn’t seen connie so strung on a girl in years..literally since his freshman year of high school, and what type of friend would she be if she didn’t use her stalking skills to get her friend the girl of his dreams?

She walked into the library holding her phone and computer, sitting next to a girl with grey leggings and a black essentials hoodie. Her nike socks were stretched a over her ankles,bringing out her Military style retro Jordans.

Her puff was slightly covered by her hoodie while the top still peeked out,and her head rested on her arms on the table, it would be awkward to sit directly next to a sleeping person, so she mindfully placed a chair across from her, began to work. “okay, so mystery girl probably lives in the dorms, imma check the residents list first” she mumbled to herself as the familiar scent of coconut and vanilla swarmed her nose. She furrowed her brows as she lowered the computer screen in front of her, which dimmed the light on her brightened face, the sleeping girl sat up and stretched, picking up the paper on the table and placing it into her pocket. “is that her?” Sasha didn’t have time to question herself, but she did question the girl. “Um excuse me?” she said softly, “I’m sorry if i woke you up but like..aren’t you the pretty girl from my physics class yesterday?” as you stopped packing yourself up and looked at her you remembered the brown haired girl who waved to you ,“you didn’t wake me up girl” you smiled, face stretching as a yawn crept out. “oh shit yea i remember youuu whats your insta i wanna be friends” you said pulling your phone out happily. “damn i love her already” Sasha thought to herself almost forgetting about the link up, “Oh! my friends and I are having a kickback later, and i wanted you to come, ill text you the details okay boo?” Your face lit up quickly and you mentally screamed, you had been waiting for this moment for what felt like your whole life, and trusted the girl even though you didn’t know her name, so it wasn’t a surprise that you showed up in your best “i put dat shit on” outfit.

Walking into the house, the heavy scent of weed filled your nose, “damn i hope i don’t smell like an eighth after i leave this shit” you texted your best friend Serenity who laughed at your remark. Your light blue jean skirt hugged your waist and barley covered your ass, as the tied black and white, printed baby tee revealed the curve in your back slightly. Your brand new dior converse glistened as it reflected against the light, your small silver Telfar stood pretty around your chest, separating your breasts. Your curly hair was in the same puff from earlier and silver jewelry adorned your ears,neck, nose, arms, and belly button, you love you some jewelry. Greeted by the brunette, which you now know as Sasha, the rest of the crew said their hellos and you made your way to Connie who was occupied talking to some dudes. Eyes looking up, tongue still on the half rolled blunt, a smile didn’t even creep on his face,it flew naturally into its rightful place. He stood up walking to you, spliff in hand and now all perfectly rolled up. His excitement got ahead of him, he didn’t want to seem desperate which he was, so he pretended to dust of his jeans and slow his pace. “Wassup y/n” he said giving you a side hug, “hey connie” you said taking in his scent, he smelled so sexy, your panties dropped right then and there. “i heard Sasha invited you?” he asked as he motioned for you to follow him,”you drink?” he asked pointing towards the Smirnoff pack resting in the cooler. You grabbed one and leaned on the kitchen counter, heart racing in your chest.

You both talked for what seemed like an hour, mingling with the main group and then finding your way back to connie, you weren’t wasted but felt a buzz from the alcohol and weed, making you a little more impulsive than usual. “hey connie, can i call you con?” you asked innocently, the look in your eye made his body stiffen “of course” he said softly, as soft as he possibly could, you looked so delicate and gentle, and was surprised when your staring contest was forced to an end as you stepped closer to him, tugging on his shirt slightly to reach his level, and kissed him. The taste or alcohol mixed with the sweet vanilla taste of your lipgloss, the kiss deepened as his tongue swiftly moved against your bottom lip asking for an entrance, you felt like only you two were in your own universe. Sasha nudged her friend Mikasa who looked up over the kitchen counter and at your make-out session. “Sasha you need to make this fucker pay you for your elite services” she giggles dapping Sasha up. You slyly pulled away from the kiss getting all shy, and stated quietly “ i want a little more privacy..can we do this somewhere else?” You hoped to go all the way for the first time with Connie, but the reminder of the pudge that sat in front of you almost made you change your mind. You simply decided that if he really liked you, he would deal with all of you, even the parts that you disliked. So as you hesitantly followed connie to an empty room, you sucked up all your fear and hoped for the best.

The night was everything but over.

#attack on titan #black reader #black coded reader #connie x black reader #fem reader #iwanty0uu #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x black reader #aot connie #aot x you #connie x black y/n #connie springer

[justsomerandomfanfic]

I See You - Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Title: I See You

Eddie Munson X GN (Deaf) Reader

Additional Characters: Mostly random teens, along with random "friends" Terri and Stancy-Ann

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,794

Warnings: Teens talking behind Reader's back briefly, Reader is mentioned to be an outcast, teens being jerks, Eddie the Protector, nicknames, mentions of drugs briefly, teasing, flirting, slight angst, and fluff

You were so tired. Tired of people... And of the world really. It was like the whole world was against you sometimes, making it impossible to be anything more than an outsider, an outcast. You were deaf, unable to hear, but you did have hearing aids that did allow you to hear when you wore them. But sometimes you just didn't want to hear. Your so-called "friends" would always grow so irritated when you didn't want to wear your hearing aids, or when you simply wanted someone to repeat what they had said; people alway made it seem like it was so much work and trouble just to repeat themselves.

“But, I was thinking we should start the presentation with the history of Einstein before we go into his theory-” Terri spoke, only for Stacy-Ann to interrupt her.

“You mean his life, not his history,” She said, “I mean, really, Terri.”

You blinked as they continued to fight on whether or not to have Einstein’s important life events listed out in red ink or blue, but as their conversation veered onto Einstein’s theory of relativity, you found yourself confused… What did they just say?

“Uh, Stacy-Ann, could you repeat that, please?” You asked, your own purple pen, that you had borrowed from Terri pausing on your index cards. 

Both Terri and Stacy-Ann had turned to look at you before glancing at one another, and scoffing.

“Well, you should have been paying attention, Y/N.” Terri spoke, “We’ve said it, like, twice.”

You blinked rapidly, clearing your throat, “Well, I just missed what you had said. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Terri stared at you, as if what you had asked was dumb before she shook her head, turning down at her own notes. “No, I don’t want to repeat myself. It’s your fault for not hearing me the first time.”

Sometimes you wondered if they were even your friends at all. They would end up ignoring you, not wanting to be around you sometimes. Well, you didn’t need them. You had your boyfriend, Eddie.

Eddie Munson was also an outcast like you. He was different from anyone you had ever met. He was eccentric, loyal, and kind. A nonconformist with a heart of gold. Whenever you were with him, it was like the world was on pause, frozen. Everything seemed to fade out and disappear, leaving just the two of you. When you were sad, he would make you smile again; effortlessly with his charm, jokes, smile. He understood you and made you feel seen and heard. He loved you. He had told you so many times before, he had written it down so many times - pieces of notebook paper scrawled with his penmensip - that you knew he meant every word. He had even brought up the idea of matching tattoos once when the both of you were in his room in the trailer, staring up at his ceiling, hands clasped together as you lay side by side.

Spring break was coming fast, like tomorrow fast, and Eddie was going to some bonfire party, that some other high schoolers were having, to sell his merchandise. You had always felt so out of place in large groups of people, feeling ignored, leaving you bored and rather lonely. Eddie also knew that you disliked parties, so he told you that he’d understand if you would want to stay home, but you didn't want to be alone at home waiting for him, so you decided to come along; as long as you were with Eddie, you’d feel at ease. You did have to admit though, as you walked hand in hand with Eddie towards the bonfire, that you were happy to get out of the house, get some fresh air, and spend more time with Eddie that wasn’t at school, your place, or his. 

And everything was going pretty well, the music was pulsing loudly through the boombox, the deep beats reverberating through the ground at your feet and where you sat on a fallen log. Eddie sat beside you, arm over your shoulder as you both stared at the large fire, his small tin sitting between his feet as he waited for the business to come rolling in. 

"Nice night," Eddie began, his hand coming up to rub up and down your arm gently - instantly warming you up as a slight breeze flew by and chilled the both of you. "Cold night, but nice." He finished, dropping his arm to take off his jacket to wrap it around your shoulders before returning his arm around you, showing off the Metallica band t-shirt that he was wearing; which was a gift from you. 

Breathing in the scent of musky amber, combined with vanilla - and a hint of weed and leather - which wafted off of his leather jacket in waves; comforting, "Yeah this is nice." You spoke softly, watching as about a dozen or so teens danced, drank, or just sat by the fire talking to friends. 

"I'm glad you came with me," Eddie then spoke up, nudging his nose against your temple, making you look up at him, seeing the smile on his face, "I know how much you hate parties but this party would’ve been such a dud without you."

"Yeah, but it’s… Enjoyable with you." You answered, smiling sweetly at him as you turned your head to kiss his cheek lightly. Your eyes glanced at the fire for a few moments before looking back up at Eddie again, taking note of the way he stared at you. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at you that way, the way that made you feel special, desired, and wanted... It still made you flush. But this time something about his expression made you feel slightly nervous - in a good way. "What is it?" You asked softly, having a feeling that Eddie had something on his mind.

His brown eyes shifted from your eyes, down to your lips before back up, "Nothing. Nothing important, just... Just thinking. It’s just… You’re so bewitching." He replied, leaning closer to you as if he couldn't help himself, his warm breath fanning across your face as his gaze continued to travel down to your lips, which were parted slightly, waiting for him to kiss you... 

“Bewitching?” You muttered, your heart warming as your face flushed, “I’m bewitching?”

“Absolutely, babe. You’ve spellbound me.” He pulled you closer to him, finally leaning in, his eyelids drooping; his lips just a breath away from yours... Until...

"Hey! Munson!" Someone yelled out, interrupting both you and the young man in question as he pulled back and let out an irritated, dramatic sigh, snapping his head towards the teen who called out to him.

"Duty calls." You muttered sadly as Eddie nodded, running a hand through his hair before he grabbed his tin.

"Yeah, but don't think this is over. I plan to kiss the crap out of you when I return," He teased, pointing a finger at you before gently booping your nose as he stood from the log, "Later~" He added, winking, before heading into the throngs of teenagers with his usual avant-garde stride. You watched him go, letting out a dreamy sigh before staring back into the fire - which flickered dangerously - knowing that Eddie would keep his promise and come right back.

Even though you did still feel a bit uneasy, you were actually enjoying yourself, staring at the large bonfire, warmed by it and Eddie's jacket around you. Though, there was this tingling in your mind, that something was going to go wrong, that someone was going to say something or do something, like always, and ruin your happiness. You were getting used to the feeling, the paranoia, which frustrated you deeply. You hated this town, you hated the people in this crappy town, you hated everything except Eddie. Sometimes you wished that after graduation, you and Eddie could just ride off in his van into the sunset.

"Why are they here?" You then heard, snapping you out of your thoughts as a small group of people began to talk near you, "I thought they couldn't hear the music?"

Yeah, they were talking about you.

"They have hearing aids, idiot." Another one spoke, clearly not caring if you could hear them. "Just ask them."

"Ask them what?" Came a third voice, one sounding already irritated, crossing their arms and pivoting their weight to the side. "I don’t want to talk to them."

“Yeah,” The first teen spoke, “They hang out with that freak Munson. They’re probably a demon worshiper too.”

That last comment caught your attention, causing your head to snap up as you focused your eyes on the three teenagers. Your blood was boiling, no one talked like that about Eddie, he wasn’t a freak. What jerks.

You rose quickly, speeding past the trio and right towards Eddie. You wanted to leave, but you didn't want to ruin any business for him, or ruin any of the possible fun that he might have been having. So you kept walking, and only when your arms were able to loop around his, did you finally let go of the large breath you didn't know that you were holding in your lungs.

The moment your arm looped around his, Eddie turned his head, looking down at you. At your frown, he frowned as well. "What's wrong, babe?" His tone sounded concerned, his attention moving away from the potential customer in front of him.

Your body stiffened instantly, but slightly, as your eyes moved downcast momentarily before you looked into his chocolate brown eyes; the color practically drowning you in warmth and comfort, "I missed you." You said simply, and though your words were sweet, Eddie saw past them, he heard, and saw the emotion behind them.

Eddie hummed, turning to the teenager, "If you'll excuse me."

"Hey, freak!" The teen exclaimed as you and Eddie moved to turn and leave, "I thought we had a deal here?"

Eddie turned sharply, "Deal's off." Before he turned once more and began leading you to the van.

"Deal's off? Why? You need to go babysit them!?" The teen yelled out, gaining some other's attention as Eddie froze in place. 

You held onto Eddie's arm, your fingers clutching onto his skin, probably painfully, but Eddie didn't seem to notice or care as he stared daggers into the teen's head. Your free hand by your side clenched into a tight fist, your nails creating crescent moon-shaped creases into your palm before you quickly reached up and took out your hearing aids. 

For a moment, as you closed your eyes, you could feel at peace, unable to hear anything as the crowd around you faded away, leaving you to pretend that you were anywhere else. It wasn't until you opened your eyes again, blinking slowly as the bright crescent moon's beams filtered in between the leaves above you that you realized you were still in the same spot where Eddie had frozen.

You could see that he was speaking, animatedly, a dark grin on his lips as he spoke to the teen. Before you knew it, Eddie had slipped away from you, almost prancing around his new prey, a hop in his step as the teen stood, wary and unknowing of Eddie's next move. 

Though Eddie was clearly intimidating the teen, you couldn't help but admire how Eddie held himself: tall, broad shoulders, strong and powerful arms, a confident smirk on his lips as he continued to speak, his dark hair falling forward, his bangs brushing against his dark eyebrows as he tilted his head side to side, almost badgering. You had always admired how protective Eddie could be, always going out of his way to make sure you were alright, not afraid to tell others off for their behavior towards you. 

You weren't exactly sure how long you stayed there, standing, observing, just drinking in the sight of Eddie before you; trying to process all that you were seeing. It wasn't until you felt a soft tug on your hand, pulling you from your trance, that you realized that Eddie was done and the teen was out of sight.

You watched his lips move, forming your name before he continued with what you were sure was, "Let's go home." And with that said, he guided you back to the van, keeping close, watching over you.

The ride back to his trailer was silent, for you, your hearing aids carefully placed away in a small, green carrying case that you always carried with you. Again, sitting in the van, feeling the soft rumbling as Eddie drove over pebbles and a small hole in the road, you slipped your eyes shut. And again, you felt at peace, unable to hear the world, and finally, you allowed your body to relax into the plush passenger seat of the van; totally exhausted. 

With the soft touch of Eddie's calloused hand wrapping around one of yours, you opened your eyes, turning your head to see that gentle smile of his. Slowly, your eyes softened, and you smiled back, lacing your fingers with his, and giving his hand a comforting squeeze; one that silently told him that you were okay. With your free hand, you reached over and gently ran your hand along the side of his face, brushing his long, curly hair behind his ear, smiling even wider as he leaned into your touch; closing his eyes, nuzzling against your hand as he seemed to melt instantly into your touch. Bewitched.

It was like you were a part of a zoetrope, capturing each and every scene in front of you. There was an innocence in that moment, a quiet joy. It reminded you of those moments spent together when you were both younger, just Freshmans. Those little times where you would sit and watch TV or the times when you and Eddie would go out adventuring through the woods. Where just being around each other was enough to calm the chaos inside your mind. Those moments where you felt like you were seen. Eddie understood you. No one else ever did. He saw you. He saw you.

"I'm sorry, babe," You heard Eddie say as you placed your empty case on his cluttered bedside table.

Turning, you huffed, laying upon Eddie's bed, tugging the old quilt that your grandmother made over your shoulder; staring over at him. "Sorry for what, Eddie Spaghetti?" You asked him, taking his hand into yours, palm to palm, fingers lanced.

He shrugged lightly, shifting closer, his brows furrowed slightly as he searched your eyes, his own filled with an unknown look. "It was a stupid idea to go to that party. I didn’t have to go." He spoke quietly, as he stroked your knuckles softly. "I shouldn't have forced you to come."

You shook your head, "No, Eds, you didn't force me. You asked, and I agreed to come with you."

A small sigh left his lips, "I know. But, I still feel bad. I mean, the way that he was talking about you..." Eddie exhaled through his nose, "I really wanted to punch him."

"Really?" You questioned him, raising your brows, surprised, a hint of amusement present in your voice as you gave him a teasing grin. "Well, I'll have you know, that while you were telling him off, I thought you looked metal."

The look of surprise on Eddie's face quickly morphed into a sly smirk as he grinned at you, "Oh really?"

"Mhm." You nodded, smiling as you pulled your hands back to slide them around his neck, the tips of your fingers brushing through his hair lightly. "I love that you protect me, you know?" You added, tilting your head slightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"You think I'd ever let anyone hurt you?" Eddie replied, pulling you even closer to him, letting his arms circle your waist.

Your cheeks flushed, and a small laugh escaped your lips as your hands slid down his shoulders to rest on his chest. You lifted your gaze to meet his, softly nudging your forehead against his, "No." You whispered, "With you, I feel safe... I feel seen."

That's all it took for Eddie to pull you tightly to him, his nose gently brushing against yours, his hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back as his bangs tickled your face. "I see you..." Eddie whispered against your lips, his words causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach, sending shivers down your spine, and causing heat to fill your stomach.

You could feel yourself leaning in, your lips hovering right over Eddie's, only a few centimeters apart, before you spoke, "I see you too."

---

Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist

#cute #fluff #slight angst #x reader #x you #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #request #anon request #x gn reader #deaf reader #stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #requested

[lovetohate001]

i think a 001 x reader where the reader has a bunch of tattoos and lets the kids color them in and hes just sitting back admiring them would be so cute

(your work is literally amazing bro 😭😭😭<3)

Colour Me In

Peter Ballard (001) x Gender Neutral!Reader | FLUFF

AN: thank you for loving my work! this was the sweetest ask and I hope you enjoy it as much as i loved writing it!

© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.

Working at Hawkin’s National Laboratory was difficult most days. But some days were just worth all the trouble. The children here were all just a bit older than eight, and they simply adored going to the Rainbow Room. No matter how tired or overworked they were from their training in the mornings, they all rushed to the colourful setup to spend time with all the puzzles and games waiting for them inside. And it broke your heart a little, knowing that this facility would most likely be all they would ever know growing up.

“Excuse me…” 011 gently tapped you on your shoulder, her wide eyes looking up at you. “Colour?”

You were confused for a second…looking at 011, and then to the red marker she had in her hand, cap off, and the felt tip poised above your arm.

“Colour? You want to colour on my arm?”

She nodded enthusiastically and wiggled the pen in her hand for emphasis.

You rolled the white sleeve of your uniform up to your elbow and showed her the dainty tattoos across the inside of your arm. They were thin branches, curling around your wrist up to your elbow, cherry blossoms adorning them and falling off in small little petals. The pink ink had faded and was no more than a dusting of colour now. You hadn’t had time for a touch up with how busy you were.

Without a word, 011 began to brush the pen across the small little flowers, the felt tickling your arm in the process. A few of the other children stopped what they were doing to steal a quick glance at the two of you, curious as ever.

After a while, you had three children crowding around your arm, not even bothering to keep within the lines like 011 did. They made small little squiggles all over your arm, even getting a few small dots of ink onto your pristine white uniform. But you didn’t mind. The children were happy and that was all that mattered. Seeing those little smiles on their faces was all you needed. You could worry about the stains later.

The intercom came on to announce lunch. The children “awww’ed” and set down their pens, obediently getting to their feet and making their way to the dinner hall.

You sighed and picked up the markers they’d left on the floor, a small smile on your face as you looked at the doodles they’d left for you.

“You are such a celebrity here, I must say I am impressed,” Peter said, just a small bit jealous of the attention the children had given to you today. He was usually their favourite.

“Aww, do you want to draw on me too?” you cooed, teasing him and waving a marker in his face.

Without a word, he snatched the purple marker from your grasp and took your hand in his. He drew a small little heart on your hand.

“There,” he said, passing the marker back to you with a grin on his face, those eyes of his shining with pride, “now I don’t have to be jealous anymore.”

It was an understatement to say that you spent the rest of your day staring down at that little heart, a foolishly large grin on your face.

MASTERLIST

SEND AN ASK / FIC REQUEST HERE

#stranger things #001 x reader #stranger things 001 #peter ballard fanfic #peter ballard stranger things #peter ballard x reader #stranger things season 4 #001 stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #001 imagine #001 x you #peter ballard #st vecna #vecna x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eleven stranger things #stranger things eleven #011 #011 stranger things

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 24

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 23

part 25

warning: feitan is mean and ungrateful but what did you expect, he’s a lil gremlin! reader gets bitten and scratched cuz he’s wild 🙏

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

3 years ago

The summer air was suffocating. (Name) had long since abandoned her long sleeves and fluffy blankets, exchanging them for tank tops and sheets.

The girl continued her work of peeling apples. If she wanted to finish her next batch of apple butter before her journey into town next week, she’d need to peel until she couldn’t anymore.

“Reports of the notorious band of thieves, the Phantom Troupe, wreaking havoc in the next city over have reached-“

(Name) switched the channel of her small bear up radio. She didn’t want to hear about some thieves causing mayhem. The girl had already pushed the name out of her mind by the time she continued her work.

As the day wore on, she felt herself grow tired. She’d peeled around 60 apples. (Name) tossed the remaining bags of fruit into her fridge, setting the cut apples to boil on the stove.

‘Mmm, I think I’ll go dip my feet in the river while this boils. I deserve a little relaxation!’

(Name) slipped her flip flops on and ran outside, sliding down the hill and to the river’s edge.

It was calm and quiet, the sound of crickets and the sight of fireflies soothing to the girl. The water was surprisingly cool against her skin, causing her to jump lightly upon contact.

She sat down on the rocky riverside, dipping her feet into the water. “Ahh, now this is nice.”

For a moment, all of her worries of making ends meet and supporting her family melted away, the feeling of the river’s water lapping at her skin allowing her to forget.

But this wouldn’t last long. (Name) opened her eyes at the sound of something bobbing in the water. She turned to look down the river, narrowing her eyes to get a better look.

‘Is that an alligator? No, it couldn’t be, that shape isn’t right…’

(Name) stood and shook the water from her feet. She walked along the riverside until she was close enough to see what was floating on the surface of the water.

“Is that… oh my god!”

(Name) threw off her shoes and jumped into the river, swimming to the center to grab at the shape slowly sinking into the water. It was a person!

She swam back to shore, pulling the man up onto the rocky riverside. He was breathing, thankfully, so she wouldn’t have to do mouth to mouth.

“Let’s get you inside…”

She half carried, half drug the body to her porch, setting him down on the wooden floor as she scurried inside. She quickly turned the apples off before they could boil over, and rushed into the bathroom for her first aid kit and towels.

Not only was he absolutely soaked, but his body was covered in wounds, ranging from small cuts, to gashes. His arms were in the worst of shape though, having turned a strange purple color.

“Ah, he’s shivering. I gotta get him warmed up before he gets sick…”

She pulled at the man’s clothes, muttering an apology under her breath as she began undressing him.

—————

(Name) sighed, setting the small man down on the bed in the guest room. Thankfully she’d just laid out fresh sheets.

The girl didn’t have any men’s clothes for him, so she settled on pulling a pair of her pajama pants over his otherwise naked body. So far she had avoided looking at anything private, and she was planning on keeping it that way.

“Mm, his shirt was destroyed, but his pants and boxers can be washed and dried. Better than nothing, I guess.” She set aside the wet clothing for later, focusing on his injuries.

He had a large gash on his chest. It would need stitches, something (Name) could handle. Any other small cuts and bruises could be treated with a bandaid or salve, but his arms… that’s what she was most worried about.

His arms didn’t appear to be broken, but the purple color was throwing her off. He had also grunted in pain when she’d touched him, the only reaction he’d had the the entire time.

She decided to wait until he woke up to address his arms, setting some packs of ice to help with the swelling.

(Name) got to work stitching up his wound, being as gentle as possible. After that, she wrapped his chest in gauze, tending to his smaller cuts with some antibacterial spray and bandaids.

He had some glass stuck in one of his legs, which she had to pick out as well. Just what in the hell happened to this man to be in such bad shape?

She wanted to call a doctor to come check him out, but she had so signal so far out from town. She’d have to wait for him to wake up and be stabilized before she could leave, and that worried her.

After a few hours of tender care, (Name) covered him up and turned off the light. His breathing had evened out, his chest rising and falling softly.

When (Name) was finally able to climb into bed, she realized she hadn’t taken the time to really take in his appearance. She’d been so focused on saving his life she hadn’t even thought to get a good look at him.

‘That’s alright. I’ll take a good look at him tomorrow…’

—————

Sun filtered in through the curtain drawn window, causing the sleeping man to groan and attempt to raise a hand to his face to block out the light.

He regretted this immediately.

Indescribable pain shot through his limbs, causing him to scream out in agony. He cursed in his native tongue, struggling to sit up.

The door in front of him bursted open, a short, plump woman running through.

“Holy- are you okay? You’re awake oh my-“

She paused at the wild look in his eyes. The man growled, struggling to back away as he practically barked at her.

“Stay back.”

(Name) held her hands up in surrender, giving him the space he requested. Once she was a good distance away, he relaxed, but only slightly.

“Where am I?” He had an accent that (Name) couldn’t quite place, but it was nice.

The girl looked from his face to his arms, concern written across her face. “You’re in my home. I found you in the river last night.”

He frowned, sweat beading down his forehead from him straining to get up. “Who are you?”

“Oh, I’m (Name).”

His next question came fast. “What you want from me?”

She paused, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Nothing? Why do you ask?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “No one helps for “nothing”. What, want information? Better kill me, I don’t talk.”

She blinked before waving her hands frantically. “Kill? Whoah I’m not gonna kill you! I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t want anything from you.”

Although he could tell she spoke the truth, it didn’t do anything to ease his suspicious. “Don’t… don’t come near.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had just woken up, but he was still exhausted. The weight of his body slowly sunk back into the bed, the man falling back into a restless sleep.

(Name) stood still until his breathing returned to normal. She then walked over and placed a hand on his forehead.

‘He’s burning up!’

She rushed out of the room and returned to place a damp rag on his head, replacing the melting bags of ice on his arms as she did.

‘Hmm… I’ll make something easy to eat for when he wakes up.’

She settled on some homemade chicken noodle soup. She’d recently culled some of her meaner roosters, so she had some left over chicken sitting in her freezer.

“This will do. I hope he’s not allergic to any of this…”

(Name) was able to get a better look at him this time. He was relatively small, shorter than her definitely, with black hair that fell past his cheeks and a pale complexion. She couldn’t place his eye color, they were either a dark shade of gray or a light shade of purple.

The next time the man woke up, it was night. By the looks of the sky outside, it had just become dark out. He could hear the sound of the woman humming, the clinks and clanks of dishes being washed reverberating down the hall.

He was able to sit up with minimal pain this time, the bags of (now melted) ice dripping to the floor. The rag that had been placed on his forehead fell into his lap as he observed his surrounding.

The room was plain, having blue walls and no decorations. Next to him was a night stand with a cup of water and a straw. Had that woman left that there?

‘Need to call boss. Doesn’t know what happened.’

He looked around, spotting his phone next to the water on the nightstand. It was broken, and even if it hadn’t been it wouldn’t have worked because of his dip in the river.

The man thought back to his fight, and how he’d gotten there.

Chrollo had ordered him to steal an expensive relic from a local gang, which Feitan thought was child’s play. Although only Feitan was ordered to take the gang out, the news reported that there was more than one spider ransacking the town. He wondered how scared they would have been if they knew all that damage had been caused by him.

Feitan only ran into trouble when a nen user skilled in paralyzing peoples bodies was able to grab his arms. The limbs quickly turned purple, but Feitan was able to kill the man with little to no further injuries.

He dropped the relic off at the designated spot before walking along the river. Feitan hadn’t realized how badly injuried he really was until he felt himself sliding down the hill and into the river. He passed out before he could swim to the surface.

Thankfully, he was light enough to float down until (Name) spotted him.

‘Careless. Should have contacted Boss beforehand…’

He looked down at his arms, gritting his teeth. It seemed the persons nen hadn’t disappeared after his death. From the small amount of information he’d heard, the paralyzation could last up to 4 months. ‘Stupid. Could have been more careful.’

He wanted to slam his fist into the wall, but knew that would only make things worse. Feitan instead took a deep breath.

His mind wandered back to the woman from the previous day. His arms were next to useless, would he have to rely on her to eat? Feitan didn’t want to. He couldn’t believe that the girl had no ulterior motive, it just wasn’t possible. No one helped others without looking to gain something, at least not in Feitan’s world.

The sound of the door creaking open caught his attention. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her approach the door.

“You’re awake! That’s good, just in time for dinner.”

The girl walked in carrying a plate with a bowl and piece of bread on it. She sat it down in the man’s lap as she situated herself in the chair she’d placed beside his bed.

“Can you move your arms?” she asked, picking up the bags of ice.

“No.”

She nodded. “Alright, then I’ll feed y-“

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no, are you not hungry?”

She reached out to place a hand on his forehand. Maybe he had a fever that was upsetting his stomach! But before she could place her palm on his head, he lifted his head and bit her hand.

“H-hey!” She pulled her hand back and held it to her chest as small droplets of blood beaded to the surface.

“Don’t touch me.”

She could feel the venom dripping from his words, an unspoken threat laced in between them. If she touched him, he’d hurt her.

“But if I can’t touch you, I can’t help you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you, I-“

“Stay away.”

Something about that man felt dangerous, like she was a gazelle standing in front of a lion. His eyes pierced into hers, telling her that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

(Name) sighed and stood up from her chair. “I’ll try again later. Goodnight.”

She took the bowl and left the room, turning the light off behind her.

Feitan woke up feeling better than he had when he fell asleep, and weirdly not hungry. Out of habit, he attempted to lift a hand again to block out the sunlight, only to be reminded of his condition.

“Fuck…” he groaned, sitting up. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, taking tentative steps towards the door.

He paused for just a moment to look over his attire. Hanging dangerous low on his waist was an oversized pair of sweatpants, with some kind of cat cartoon character he didn’t recognize. They were much to big for him, the drawstring pulled tight to keep them from falling down his hips.

‘If Uvogin or Shalnark saw this, wouldn’t hear the end of it.’

Unable to open it with his hands, he kicked it open, causing it to fly off its hinges.

(Name) screeched from the kitchen. “OH MY- my door!” She rushed over, glancing between her door and the man in front of her.

“Where the bathroom?”

She blinked. It took her a moment to process his question before she pointed to the open bathroom.

As he began to walk away she stopped him by clearing her throat. “Will you be needing any help?”

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow. “What, gonna hold my dick for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, just walked in and kicked the door close.

(Name) was left in a stunned silence, staring at the door. ‘Did he…’

She huffed and went back to working in the kitchen. It wasn’t as easy as it had been before she’d had to bandage her hand, but she’d power through it.

——————

Feitan could feel something warm in his mouth, something savory. It tasted good, the man swallowing the liquid in deep gulps.

In his dreams, he was sitting with all of his childhood friends enjoying the soup chrollo had made them. All it was was chicken and water with some sparse seasonings, but feitan enjoyed every second of his meal.

The smallest of smiles was on his face as a spoon was lifted to his lips.

He was still asleep, and (Name) was going to take advantage of that.

She’d propped him up and had slowly been dripping the broth from her soup into his mouth for the past 15 minutes, being mindful of his breathing. For the past two days, she’d been feeding him like this when she could.

He refused to eat anything she offered him, threatening her if she got too close. He always followed through with his words, biting and clawing at whatever skin he could get to.

Feitan didn’t stay awake much, only getting up to use the bathroom before passing out again. She’d gotten used to the man randomly leaving his room only to use the bathroom.

One afternoon after he left, she saw water dripping down his face and onto his chest. (Name) assumed he has been drinking water from the sink. He didn’t even trust her enough to drink the water she had supplied.

This didn’t bother her, though. The kind of wounds Feitan had received, both old and new weren’t the type that littered an ordinary man’s body. He’d had a hard life of fighting to survive, so she didn’t take his harsh words and actions to heart.

(Name) had fixed the door to her best ability to give the man some privacy. She left it cracked open slightly so he could go to and fro without breaking it again. Feitan seemed perplexed by her actions. Despite his less than kind attitude, she seemed unbothered. This freaked him out.

(Name) knocked on the door before entering with a medkit in one hand and his laundry in the other. “Hey. I need to change your bandages.”

He didn’t glance up from looking at his lap, his lips twisting into a deep frown. “I said no touching.”

“Yeah, I know, but if I don’t change your bandages you’ll get an infection.”

Feitan sneered at her, spitting out his words. “Don’t care. Stay away.”

She set the medkit down and placed his laundry on the bed before she sat next to him. Unlike placing ice packs/rags and feeding him, changing his bandages in his sleep wouldn’t be easy. If he woke up, he might seriously hurt her.

“Alright, I won’t touch you, but I’ll need to go to town and get a doctor. If I can’t help you then I can at least get someone-“

“No doctor.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow at this. “No doctor? How exactly do you plan on getting better if I can’t touch you or get you a doctor?”

The man didn’t answer, giving her a glare. “Listen, your three options are to let me take care of you, see a doctor, or die from infection. What’s your choice?”

He looked her straight in the eye as he answered.

“I choose death.”

——————

“God, he’s stubborn. And annoying.”

(Name) loaded her homemade canned goods into her large basket, huffing and puffing over the man’s behavior. He’d fallen back to sleep after his declaration, not bothering to speak on the subject further.

He seemed to be doing alright, all things considered, but his attitude was worsening by the day. He refused to tell her anything, not even his name.

(Name) fastened her basket to her bike and started on her journey to town.

It took around 30 minutes by bike, but stopping to take breaks made it a 45 minute trip.

(Name) participated in a farmers market every Sunday, selling her canned goods to make enough money to support herself and send a little money home to her family every month.

After a long day of selling her goods, she packed up her cash into three plastic jars. One was for her, the second was for her family, and the third was new. It would be her “mysterious stranger fund”, money she’d use for his basic necessities.

She decided to stop by the local thrift store and buy a few different pairs of clothes for the man. It was hard to find things that fit his style. Even in the heat, he’d been wearing a long black coat, so she assumed he liked wearing warm clothing.

She could afford a pair of black jeans, a black hoodie, a few pairs of boxers, some socks, and a set of pajamas. It would have to do until she could come back next week.

He hadn’t bothered to change out of the sweatpants she’d dressed him in his first night there, despite her pleas for him to do so.

Feitan would just scoff, saying that he wouldn’t be able to sleep in his usual pair of pants.

He didn’t seem to like talking, maybe it was because he wasn’t great with words? (Name) really liked his voice though, it was attractive when he wasn’t growling or yelling at her.

She stuffed the jars her loyal customers had returned and the clothes she bought into her basket and started on her way home. It was dark now, but the moon guided her along her path.

——————

“I’m home, I got you some-“

(Name) paused, dropping her basket onto the floor.

The man was sprawled out along the floor, his breathing uneasy and sweat beading down his forehead. It looked like he’d passed out after leaving the bathroom.

She was at his side immediately, hoisting him up as gently as she could. (Name) placed him onto his bed and pulled back his bandages. The woman grimaced at the sight.

“Infected, just as I thought.”

The infection wasn’t bad, but bad enough that if it wasn’t treated, he’d die. (Name) thanked god that she kept antibiotics on hand, running to her bathroom and pulling the out of her mirror cabinet.

“Hey, can you swallow? I have some medicine that will help you.”

The man let out a ragged breath, shaking his head. “N… no. Don’t… don’t touch me.”

He was too weak to fight her, but he still refused her treatment. The girl bit her lip before popping one of the pills into her hand and squeezing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you die.”

She shoved the pill into his mouth, holding his lips shut as he thrashed, scratching and clawing at her skin. Soon, he lost his strength again and swallowed the pill.

(Name) let go of him, blood dripping down her arms from the wounds he had inflicted. She paid them no mind, leaning him against his pillow and placing a rag on his forehead.

“I’ll be right back with some water and some fresh bandages.”

For the next 24 hours, Feitan was in and out of sleep. Every once and a while he’d feel the cool sensation of water being poured into his mouth, too weak to protest.

(Name) stayed by his side as much as she could, constantly checking his temperature and changing his bandages after applying medicine to his wounds. He’s still bark out complaints and threats, but due to his condition they were now empty.

At one point (Name) was scared he would die, his face turning pale and breathing growing softer. She held his hand through the night, tending to him as gently as she could through his pain.

——————

Feitan woke up to the feeling of someone’s hand in his.

He was still exhausted and weak from the infection, but was able to lift his head enough to see who was holding his hand.

The woman was at his bedside, having fallen asleep while caring for him. Tears fell from her eyes freely as she slept.

Had she stayed with him the entire time? Feitan glanced at his chest, seeing that he was wearing new bandages and a different pair of pants. They were black flannel pajama bottoms, something he wouldn’t usually wear, but comfortable on his sensitive skin.

He noticed his hair had been pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of his face. A rag laid on his forehead to fight his constant fever, the taste of broth on his lips.

This girl had been diligently caring for him through his tantrums and mean words. Could he really keep pretending she was out to hurt him?

(Name) stirred, her tired eyes opening to see Feitan staring down at her with calculating eyes.

“You’re awake-oh sorry.”

She let go of his hand and wiped away her tears. “Sorry, your health declined last night and I was afraid you’d die, so I held your hand. I didn’t want you to… die alone.”

Feitan couldn’t understand her kindness. Her words did something to his chest that he didn’t like, not one bit. He shrugged it off, leaning back against his pillow.

“… you stayed here whole time?”

It was the first time he’d asked her a non hostile question in days. “Yes, of course. You were very sick and needed my full attention.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, but relented. She leaned closer to look at his face, giving him a sweet smile that unsettled the man more than he cared to admit.

“Are you hungry? I’ll make you whatever you want, if it means you’ll eat.”

Feitan maintained eye contact with her. His body was weak, and he knew he’d need to eat something soon. With the infection and his injuries, he would die if he didn’t consume some nutrients. Although he said he’d rather die than be fed by her, his body wouldn’t allow him to deny his hunger any longer.

“… curry.”

She blinked, leaning back. (Name) tried to hide her excitement over his request for food. “Okay, what kind?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

(Name) was quick to leave after giving him his medicine. He didn’t fight her for it this time, only complaining about the situation.

As she left, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to her bandaged arms, the beginnings of guilt starting to form in his stomach.

——————

“Fei, what was your mama like?”

Feitan and Chrollo sat together under a makeshift shelter, the latter stirring a bubbling pot of soup. Although it was hot, no one ever complained about the food.

They were just kids then, running around having adventures and trying to survive.

“Dunno. Died.”

The young boy didn’t seem to bothered by his own words, looking out into the distance to watch his other friends play.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

A silence fell over the two, Feitan pulling his knees to his chest. When was the last time someone had held him? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t even know if he’d ever been held tenderly, like he was precious to someone.

As he would grow older, Feitan would be able to hide his feeling of loneliness and need for touch, but now he was a child that was struggling to keep it all together.

Chrollo clapped a hand over his back, remaining silent as the boys eyes brimmed with tears.

Feitan always hated that dream. It made him feel soft and sappy, something he perceived as weakness. The Phantom Troupe’s interrogator didn’t have time for such useless feelings.

He had just woken from his dream, the tears that welled up in his eyes pooling down his cheeks. He hated that he couldn’t wipe them away, cursing his heart.

The smell of food cooking caused his stomach to growl. He was now aware that the woman had been slowly feeding him broth over the past few days as he slept, but that was hardly enough to fill his empty stomach.

Feitan watched through the crack in the door as the girl scurried around the house, picking up little messes as she cooked. It was amusing to watch her bump her hip against a counter and gasp before jokingly wagging her finger at it, as if it could feel shame.

He wondered if she’d act so silly if she knew he was watching.

Feitan stood up and opened the door completely. This drew (Name)’s attention, who glanced his direction before going back to working on dinner.

The man stared at her for a moment before going to the bathroom.

(Name) tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her, grateful that he left as soon as he did. It was hard to cook when you were being watched.

After leaving the bathroom, Feitan did something that (Name) hadn’t been expecting.

The short man sat at the dinner table, staring at her with unreadable eyes.

To say it was unnerving would be an understatement.

When (Name) turned to ask why he was staring at her, he scowled. “Observing.” was all he said.

She sighed and finished up dinner. If watching her would give him some peace of mind, who was she to deny him?

“Dinners ready.”

She placed a plate of beef curry down in front of him, the smell of the food almost causing his mouth to water. “Here…”

She sat next him, scooting her chair closer. He instinctively shrunk back, like a wounded animal. She only waited for him to calm down, stirring up the food to help it cool down.

“Are you ready?”

He hesitantly nodded, leaning towards her with his mouth open.

The first bite was heaven for Feitan. He didn’t know if he’d ever tasted anything better than the curry he was eating then. After that, he was much more receptive to her feeding him, finishing the plate before he realized it.

“Alright, do you want some more? There’s also some pie in the fridge if you want some!”

He didn’t answer. It was already humiliating enough to be fed by a complete stranger, he didn’t want it to last any longer than it had to.

But his sweet tooth would not agree with his brain.

“Pie.” He stated, staring at the fridge.

——————

After his meal, Feitan retired to his room to sleep. Just walking around was exhausting, he didn’t have any energy to socialize with someone he didn’t really like.

The man stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to her face as she fed him. She didn’t look at him in a condescending way or laugh when the food fell onto the floor because it had been too hot. No, she patiently waited for him to finish chewing his food, and wiped his mouth as if she were taking care of someone she cared about a lot.

Of course, Feitan wouldn’t process that (Name) cared for him, a stranger for a long time. It didn’t make sense to him. Why help someone when you stood to gain nothing?

He watched as she cleaned up the kitchen through the crack in the doorway.

‘Strange woman.’

#x reader #anime x reader #headcanon #reader insert #requests open #smut requests #hxh imagines #hxh x reader #hxh illumi #hunter x hunter feitan #hxh feitan #reunited illumi x reader x feitan #feitan portor #feitan porter x reader #feitan #hxh chrollo #hxh kurapika #hunter x hunter headcanons #hunter x hunter x reader #chubby reader #anime x chubby reader #chubby!reader #illumi x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter chrollo #hunter xhunter #kurapika x reader #chrollo lucilfer #self insert

[yourantag]

Paper Stars (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Posting this along with my intro since I feel bad for anyone that gets jebaited thinking I was uploading lol This was originally going to be more painful, but then I listened to Laufey's "I Wish You Love" and it got kinda better, kinda worse. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words Summary: You filled bottles and jars with stars of all shapes and sizes. Some were perfect, others a little wonky. Regardless of how they came out, you placed them in containers that decorate your room. No matter how long you stay in this dreadful place, these stars will remain proof of your hopes, dreams, and love. They'll remain even after you are long gone.

Even before you entered the manor, you had a habit of making paper stars. Your friends, ones you've long forgotten the names of yet remember warmly, had claimed that if you filled a jar with a thousand paper stars, you'd be granted a wish. You've long grown out of such beliefs, or so you claim, but you still make these delicate stars anyway. They give you comfort, if nothing else. However, the biggest contributor to your growing collection of stars was Ithaqua.

It wasn't that he was making too many. In fact, his claws tore the thin paper far too often for most of them to survive. The true reason was that, as foolish as it was, you had started hoping beyond all hope that, perhaps, if you made a thousand jars of a thousand paper stars, you would have a chance to be loved back by him.

Since a long time ago, since he first came to the manor, you had loved him. Your first few jars of stars could tell all about it. You'd write confessions and compliments, snippets of stories, anything and everything, onto tiny slips of paper. These would later be turned into paper stars, filling jar after jar in a mesmerizing mix of colors. In shades of pink, white, and purple, the stars grew and grew as years passed and your love stayed true.

Of course, as time tends to do, it changes you. The luster of love dulled to let you see Ithaqua as himself, and even then, you loved him. The way he'd lean on you when he was tired, the way his face scrunched up when he yawned, even the way he'd purposely annoy you by putting your favorite snacks on the tallest shelves. You loved him for his faults, and you loved him for his virtues. No matter what you learned about him, he was still perfect in your eyes.

Well, perhaps perfect isn't the right word. You know Ithaqua isn't innocent, you know he isn't completely good. He's vengeful, he's cunning, he's someone with more spite in his body than good in his soul. He is a hunter, deadly as a blade and cold as night. He laughs when he chases and he kills without mercy.

Even so, when Ithaqua holds you gently, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he wraps your wounds, murmuring apologies like prayers, you can't see him as a monster.

He isn't perfect, but he is Ithaqua. That is enough for you.

More time slips by like sand through your fingers, decades going by with seemingly no end. Your stars are not pink, white, and purple anymore, but red, orange, and green. Your love has grown a startling amount, resulting in a growing pile of star filled bottles and jars. They clutter your closet floor, taking up almost all the space inside. You think you may have made around six hundred or so, most likely more. Even so, you know there will be more, this time filled with daydreams and flustered hopes.

Your relationship with Ithaqua is closer than ever. He is your other half, your shadow, always there and ready to talk. You know him better than anyone else, just as he knows you. At this point, the whole manor is convinced you're dating each other in every way but in name. You flush whenever they say so, quickly saying you two are only friends.

"For now." They say.

'For now.' You think.

With how many years have passed, you'd think you would've gained the courage to confess to Ithaqua. Sadly, the heart is as cowardly as it is powerful. Your chest feels like it'll burst whenever you try to confess, lungs begging for air even without restrictions. Every time you try, anxiety rips the words away from you, causing you to fumble like an idiot in front of him.

It might have been a blessing that the words never had a chance to form. 

Later, when you were coming to visit him on the hunter side, you heard him talking to someone. You weren't one to eavesdrop, respectful of others' privacy, but you couldn't help but listen when you heard your name come up.

"It's painfully obvious they love you. Why don't you just confess already?"

"I can't do that. Confessing to someone I can't love is not right."

At that moment, you felt your heart shatter.

That day, you stayed in your room. You wanted to cry, scream, break something, do anything, but as always, you could only do nothing. You were curled up on your bed, incapable of doing much other than wonder why. Why can't he love you? Why won't he love you? Why, why, why, why, why?

You had gotten overconfident, you guessed. With how Ithaqua treated you so differently from the rest, so lovingly, you had assumed he'd felt the same as you did. At the very least, you had hoped he'd have some romantic interest in you. Was it presumptuous? Was it arrogant? Was it wrong for you to have hoped that he would love you back after all these years? Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, the truth lay bare before your eyes now, and there was nothing you could do but accept it.

It took you a week to get out of your slump, leaving many worried. You couldn't bother to care, trying to reassure everyone quickly that you were fine despite having been broken not long ago. You had picked up the fragments of who you were and built yourself anew. Fragile, yet stronger than ever. You could only be glad the manor had been kind enough not to give you any matches during this time.

Time marches on, unrelenting as the push and pull of the waves. Your stars turned blue, black, and yellow, filled with wishful thinking and occasional pleads. Nine hundred and ninety-nine bottles and jars gathered within your room, filling your closet, shelves, and even the bottom of your bed. Even though you knew it was useless, that your love was unrequited and that Ithaqua would never love you, the heart is a cruel, stubborn little thing.

Your heart never gave up on Ithaqua, even though your mind had long acknowledged he'd never be yours.

You were fine with that. Ithaqua had no obligation to you, and it was wrong of you to believe he would love you. It was completely fine for you to love him, but it wasn't okay for you to expect him to love you in the same way. Such thoughts would only hurt you when hit with reality. You'd suffered through it once, you didn't need to do so again.

You continued being friends with him, acting completely normal. Nothing changed, but that was fine with you. Keeping what you had now was more than enough. You kept trying to convince yourself that was true, but it felt like thorns were wrapping around your heart, flowers blooming painfully between your ribs.

"You love him!" Your heart cries.

"But he doesn't love me." You whisper back.

Distance would be the only way to heal you, and the best opportunity for it drops right onto your desk. A letter, stamped and sealed just like the one that invited you to the manor. It tells you that you may leave, that your reward for participating in the game would be given and that you were free.

You rush out of your room to find your fellow survivors cheering, crying, hugging, and laughing. After so many years stuck in the manor, you were finally able to leave. You were finally getting your rewards. 

It felt like a dream.

Happy beyond all reason, you run to the hunter's manor, finding that no celebrations were occurring. It quickly dawns on you that most of these people will not leave- couldn't. Most were dead, others were immortal, while some were people who simply couldn't be returned to society. Regardless, it seemed most of the hunters would never leave the manor, or would quietly fade away into the afterlife.

Ithaqua notices you from his corner of the room. He beckons you closer, so you walk towards him. Sitting yourself comfortably next to him, you explain the situation. He listens, humming occasionally as you show him the letter. Finally, he smiles.

"I'm happy for you."

It's simple, but sweet. You know he means it, but you kind of wish he didn't. After all, this had been your last hope, the last chance for him to show that he felt anything for you. 

You set yourself up for disappointment once more, hoping for love that he would never give.

So, you smile, nod, and say you'll be packing your things. You ignore the tears that blur your vision, the looks of pity Mary and Joseph give you, running away with a smile on your face as if truly excited to leave.

You had hoped he'd ask you to stay.

You had hoped he'd at least say that you were important to him, even as just a friend.

Perhaps even that was too much to expect.

Your love is like the moon, brilliant, beautiful, and powerful. However, in the face of almost complete apathy, of the unending night that shrouds you, what could you do?

Luggage isn't too much of an issue for you, especially considering you never brought much to the manor and never bought much either. The only things left were your paper stars.

You held the last jar, the thousandth one. You had finally completed your goal. However, there was no wish you could think of for yourself. You gained your freedom, your reward from the manor, and now, gave up completely on Ithaqua. There was nothing you desired.

Turning to face your closet, your grip on the jar tightens. You see the thousands, millions of stars staring back at you, a galaxy of color, filled with so much love and joy. It's almost painful to see it all, the proof of your existence within this manor, the proof of your love, shoved in a closet and never to be seen again.

You turn to your desk, glancing at the other jars that decorate it. You can see the imperfections on some of the stars, one crinkled far too much, another far too big. You remember all the time and effort that went into them, the words you had written, the feelings that went through you as you made them. It washes over you like a wave, and you let it.

Then, finally, you smile.

"I wish him love."

He deserves it. He deserves to be loved selflessly, in a way you probably couldn't offer him. He deserves to be held when it's cold, tenderly cared for when sick, shared jokes with sincerity, and above all else, happy.

So, carrying your luggage bag and a smile, you meet Ithaqua at the hunters manor. You place the jar of paper stars in his hands, eyes full of adoration as you let him go in your heart.

"Farewell, Ithaqua. I'm glad to have met you. Thank you for letting me get to know you and love you. I will never forget you."

You squeeze his hands around the jar, the pain in your chest bittersweet. You let go, pulling back and waving as you leave. He watches for a long time, even after you've long left.

Eventually, he lets his legs give out from under him. He lets his heart ache as he opens the jar to let the stars fall into his hands. Ithaqua cradles them like they're the most precious things in the world, an irreplaceable treasure that was worth more than his life.

He lets his shoulders shake, curling in on himself as he sobs. Tears fall from his eyes as his heart rips itself apart, only getting worse as he sees writing on a star. He unravels it slowly, carefully, as if it'll tear with even the slightest bit of pressure. His efforts are for naught, as in the end, his tears wet the paper and destroy the writing, ink smudging as his efforts to return it to normal shred the thin paper. Still, he remembers vividly the words written on it. He'll feel it forever seared into his heart and soul.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #identity v fanfic #idv fanfic

[everythingmp3]

𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕜 ࣪ ִ☾⋆

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

some fantasies are simple yet impactful; Van is a devoted lover and helps you indulge in one of yours.

minors dni. warnings: bruises, masturbation

(disclaimer: a shorter one! just something I had fun with <3 )

you were sitting on Vans bed, lost in thought, waiting for her to get out of the shower. the room was cozy and ready for you two to go to sleep; a scented candle burning, the big light out, curtains drawn. you were sitting in your underwear and one of her t-shirts, your legs dangling over the edge of the bed, she walked in wearing a soft long sleeve shirt and plaid boxer shorts, what you often lovingly called a "slutty" look, because you truly never got tired of seeing her dressed like that, always crawling over to her side of the bed the second she joined you at night, rarely keeping your hands to yourself.

she saw you sitting there, visibly spaced out, laughing while sitting down next to you, an arm around your shoulder,"what is going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?" tapping your forehead lovingly, her hand resting on your cheek for a second, "oh you know, i was just thinking about how much I´ll miss you all week", you had somewhere to be, out of state, which would separate you two for longer than you were used to. she smiled then, pulling you closer, "come on, it´s just a few days, the time will fly by, i promise" kissing you after she said this. you smiled too then, caressing her leg a little, "you know i was thinking about something else too actually", that caught her attention, "oh yeah? what?"

you were trying to find a good way to put it, "well, i was just sitting here looking at my legs, thinking about how hot i would find it if you left some marks on me, so i have a reminder of being with you when i am gone, on my inner thighs, just for me to see..." her gaze was a little more intense now, she was undeniably turned on from hearing you openly fantasize about her,"well, i don´t wanna hurt your pretty skin.." she said, her hand slowly moving over your leg now, her eyes fixed on yours. usually, you were the one prone to leaving little marks and scratches, because her skin was so pale and sensitive to any impact, but sometimes you wanted to feel the pleasure of being physically claimed as well, "you don´t have to be super rough with it, just something that will last a few days. please baby, for me?" you placed a kiss on her neck, while moving her hand further down between your legs with your own, hearing her breathing change,"okay, okay, yes", she gave in; it was impossible for her to deny you any of your wishes.

she got down on her knees in front of you, pulling your legs apart, looking up at you for a second, your fingers in her hair, admiring the view, "hm, you always look so hot on your knees", she almost moaned just from that remark, she loved nothing more than the worship like nature of kneeling in front of you to please you.

she looked at your left thigh and placed a few soft kisses on your warm skin, before running her tongue all the way down the inner side of it, slowly, with feeling, leaving a trail of her spit, massaging your other thigh at the same time, you could already feel yourself growing wet from just that, "god... please Van" you were begging her to leave an impact, to devour you. she obeyed, sucking on your skin, gently at first, testing out how hard she should do it, feeling you tense up a little, hearing you moan, "fuck.." your eyes closed, your hands still in her hair, your grip harder than before, she was encouraged by that, more aggressive then, teeth sinking in a little, small bites here and there, getting into it, hearing you whine but obviously more from pleasure than from pain, so she continued up your thigh, a faint purple bruise forming, then another, little dots of red where her teeth had met your skin. you couldn´t even look down at her for too long because you knew you might just cum from the sight of it alone and you didn´t want to reach that point too quickly, you were enjoying the sensation too much.

"that feels so fucking good" you sighed, she was switching between licking and sucking on both of your thighs now, it sounded like she was literally eating you, she was deeply lost in the feeling of your soft skin, her lips all red and swollen, that familiar hunger for you having taken her over, completely, the way it always did. your free hand had wandered under your shirt, grabbing your own chest to add to the arousal of your lower half, your head falling back in pleasure, she looked up for a second and seeing you touch yourself like that made her want to taste that part of you too, so after giving your legs a final few licks and bites and kisses, she got up and pushed you back onto the bed, lifting up your shirt, leaving you almost entirely naked.

before you could think or speak she was already sucking on the sensitive skin of your tits, leaving another small mark to add to those you had explicitly asked for, hard enough to make you sound very desperate at that point, your hand instinctively reaching down your underwear to jerk yourself off, she grinned, watching you squirm under her, you had already gotten so turned on that you didn´t need to do much, feeling her hover over you and the heat of her mouth all over your skin was enough, she knew your body, she could feel that you were about to cum and helped you by grabbing and squeezing your thigh where your skin was still all tender and raw and sensitive from her previous action, "come on, let me see you cum, baby" she whispered, an intense final shudder went through your entire body immediately after she said it, leaving you all weak and out of breath, as she slowly climbed off you, smiling, taking in the view of you laying there; spent, undone, beautiful.

"you weren’t lying about how badly you wanted me to that huh?” she seemed pleased, satisfied, her gaze now on your legs where the bruises had appeared, "be honest, did that hurt?", a little concern in her voice, you laughed, your voice still a bit shaky "i was too busy trying not to finish ten seconds in to notice” she smiled, laying down more comfortably, her legs sprawled out and tangled up with yours, "oh, that’s not an issue, i would´ve just kept going, don´t hold back next time", you laughed and nudged her in the side, "jesus, don´t talk like that Palmer, you´re turning me on again", "good" she answered, face glowing from the unexpected late night rush of excitement, pulling you closer again, clearly loving it; how easy it was to make you want her.

#van palmer x reader #yellowjackets x reader #van palmer #yellowjackets