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harmonysanreads · 18 days

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hello <3

wishing you freedom and happiness from academic hell before diving in. you opened requests so 👉👈

forgive me if this counts as idea stealing since you posted about it but yan! neuvillette with a darling who wants to file for divorce would be such a messy situation. court proceedings go to him now that the oratrice is no longer functioning. how do you expect to win against the law of the land?

filing divorce in a different land also isn't an option, because it is written in your marriage contract that you cannot leave fontaine without your husband and he sure as hell isn't going to come with you for something like this

oh well.

Jeux de Vagues

Yandere!Neuvillette x Reader

cw(s): yandere, implications of forced marriage, slight dehumanization, manipulation, fontaine archon quest act one spoilers, old married couple bickering (literally)

wc : 3k

hiii zuri!! i have been brainrotting this fic since version 4.0 so thank you so much for just giving me the opportunity to unleash it lol. for plot reasons this takes place between act 1 and 2. i dedicate this fic to all the anons who brain-rotted with me and kept me motivated to think about neuvillette with their creative asks <3 btw you get a 🍪 if you can recognize where the title comes from :>

“Husband, I wish for a divorce.”

In Spring, the snow of the bygone winter thaws and raises the tides. They twirl to the edges of the shores ; push and pull, back and forth, mesmerizing the nation of Hydro with their temptatious dance. You wonder what it'd take to entice the waves to your direction, to have the power to make them rage and placate. When one desires to control something great, they see its reflection upon mundane things — just as you envision yourself dictating the tides upon cups of dainty porcelain, noon to evening and midnight to dawn — your spoon conducts its rhythm.

In Summer, the waters boil and vaporize upon the touch of sunlight to reach the heavens and complete the cycle. Just as wisps of steaming tea tantalize their way upwards from cups and tea pots. Beyond that translucent veil stares back a pair of watchful eyes, undecipherable are their emotions and primordial their age.

“The tides of time heed no one's orders or pleas. Very well, mon trésor, let us begin this trial.”

You're quick to catch the hint and slow to react, deliberate and relaxed as you bring the rim of the cup to your lips. The tea scathes your lips and paints your tongue bitter, bitter, bitter — a smile stretches across your tingling lips, deeming the liquid's taste adequate to your present temperament. You are bitter, not because of the contents of this ‘trial’ but, due to the delay of it. You've been crossing days after days from heaps of calendars, preparing all your accusations and aligning evidence to back up your claims for this chance only comes once every fin de siècle.

“I heard your justice machine broke?” a ‘clang’ accompanies the tea cup meeting the saucer. You focus on the chirping of birds and the noises of crystal flies buzzing past instead of the possible damage done by your words. You hear it, the swell of rising waves before they pacify with a purposeful cough. You don't let the event’s lamentable duration plunder your motivation, more precisely, you take it as a good start.

“Calling it broken is quite the stretch. You and I both know that the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale—”

You swat a hand and the waves placate completely, sans any questions or any other brewing feelings. “I'm quite aware of what it's called, husband.” ‘I just could not care less’ goes unsaid.

You point your finger towards the Iudex of Fontaine, “You,” then return it back to yourself, “and I, both know the purpose of me bringing that incident up in our private trial.”

No amount of sensory loss would render someone ignorant of the mockery of your words. You bite the inside of your cheek in a lazy attempt to suppress a smirk, times like this really make you regret not having the privilege to face off against Neuvillette in the Court of this land ; you're quite sure your most recent stunt would earn you many bewildered gasps. If only the gates of your husband's manor crashed down, perhaps incapacitating him in the process for good measure.

“...Yes, we do. Your intention is to insinuate the impending prophecy and learn how we plan to prevent or battle it.”

Neuvillette's words resemble velvet in the manner they roll off his tongue, you catch his gaze drifting towards the chalice to his left, from where his reflection returns his stare. There are many tales passed among melusins of the equanimity practiced by your husband in even the most dire situations. But you have seen the depths of the ocean, where its secrets are forever concealed by an ever stretching darkness.

“Correct,” you affirm.

“Unfortunately, mon trésor, our investigations have not yet reached a decisive conclusion. While I can guarantee you that we'll do our utmost in the face of the prophecy, I cannot yet give you the specific details. Besides, this information is quite... arbitrary to our ‘trial’.”

The ocean returns your scrutiny, threatening to yank your breath away to that unknown darkness. You watch the ripples along its surface, wondering and devising plots to uproot the ocean's schemes from your safe space. You want to tear through that ataraxia and illuminate those depths for all to see its hideous secrets — so that your claims will no longer be deemed senseless.

“Well, you could try acting the part of the Iudex first.” you exhibit great interest in your nails.

“Apologies, mon trésor. The trial is now in session.”

The most preposterous trial there ever was, in fact ; spectated by cups of tea and plates of desserts, overlooked by the jury of birds and bees under the naked skies and one stubborn ‘judge’ to lay down the final verdict — who was also the accused in question. It'd be more fitting to call this some courtroom version of playing house and you wonder if Neuvillette sees it as exactly this ; since the notion of normal matrimonial life flies past his head.

You swallow your profound irritation at his nonchalance and that prickling soft gaze, the calm of the ocean surface is just a facade, you remind yourself.

“O honorable Chief Justice of Fontaine, riddle me of what I must do with my husband. He sees fit to cage me down while preaching justice simultaneously and allows me not to indulge in ‘rudimentary interactions’ with any other life forms. Do you not think that such hypocrisy is utterly ridiculous?”

Your hand cradles your heart, fully embracing the spirit of a mistreated spouse. Neuvillette regards it with an almost comical graveness, nodding as though he understands. Had it not been for the situation, you would've marveled at how willingly he's playing along with this fiasco.

A gloved hand stretches out to you in suggestion, “Perhaps it's because your husband just worries too much for your well-being?”

Your right eye twitches, “I’ve made it acutely obvious to him that I'm far from a toddler in need of constant supervision.”

The Iudex smiles succinctly, “I’m sure that he's not ignorant of that fact. But if, as you say, your husband guards you with such determination that you're not allowed to interact with any other forms of living organisms besides himself, it means that you hold great value to him.”

You cross your arms petulantly, it's not that you're forbidden from talking with everyone, many of Neuvillette's most trusted melusines do come to add flickers of color to your otherwise bleak existence sporadically. You're grateful for their kindness and brief companionship but, this small leeway does not outweigh the rest of your husband's misdeeds. Your eyes flicker to the patient eyes of the man separated by one small oak table, barely suppressing a scowl at his serene composure.

You despise it when he acts like the raw image of propriety, of an ideal husband ; so withdrawn from the covetous creature that he actually is — because it poses you as a lunatic, a lunatic who demands separation from what the rest of society perceives as perfection and debilitates all of your claims. The more you think about it, the more frustrated you get — you don't want to let frustration consume you, you don't want to lose this one opportunity for freedom. Your nails dig into the sleeves of your apparel as your mind scrambles to search for more accusations.

Why did you want a divorce again?

You control your erratic breaths forcefully, “Well, I don't feel safe in Fontaine anymore. A deadly prophecy is at our door and with no solution in sight. I'd much prefer to relocate to someplace with less volatile weather, like Liyue or Mondstadt.”

Neuvillette tilts his head, “Ah, you want to go on a vacation, am I correct? To be honest, I've been entertaining the thought of traveling to the other nations with you by my side for quite a while. Though, things being the way as they're now, that is not possible. I can promise you that after everything has been settled, we will go on a journey together, mon trésor.”

This time you don't bother to conceal your disbelief, of course he focuses on the part that most serves him and twists the narrative to further enrich his fantasies! You bite your tongue from yelling that you don't want a vacation, you want freedom from these suffocating high walls of marble. You don't just want freedom from Neuvillette, you want freedom from this cursed nation and it's solely Neuvillette's fault you were unable to do so with your kin five hundred years ago.

“Fontaine will face diplomatic and political consequences soon. Because you threw that Harbinger of Sumeru—”

“Sneznaya, mon trésor.”

“—I know that. My point is that we might face backlash from the Fatui in our vulnerable state and who knows? Fontaine might just collapse as a nation! I don't want to stay in a city like this.”

You freeze at the sigh that escapes Neuvillette's lips, you've been probing and digging for a normal human reaction from this man for a while, but at the instance that he actually gives it, you cannot help but find it jarring.

“Fontaine will not collapse from something as trivial as diplomatic pressure from the Fatui. Even though the prophecy looms above our heads, there are many factions that are actively working towards prevention. And even if Fontaine were to be drowned tomorrow, I have faith that not all of the citizens will be dissolved and you would always be my first priority. As for that Sneznayan Harbinger… we've merely followed the Court's protocols. If we did indeed convict him of crimes he did not commit, we'll most certainly compensate him to the fullest extent allowed by the law.”

For a transient eternity, all that echoed throughout the garden of the Chief Justice were the chirping of birds. Your mind carefully assesses the words from moments ago, searching for even a modicum of dishonesty. You watch the Iudex's unfettered gaze, at last giving a glimpse of the tumults raging beneath the pretentious still surface. You can hear the swelling of waves again, albeit not for the purpose to engulf but, with the determination to protect.

You'd recognize that look on Neuvillette's face even in your (unlikely) deathbed, the causation of your bafflement though is that, this is the first time you've seen it appear in correlation to something other than yourself. Your right hand idly smoothes your garbs and your left grips the wooden handle of your seat, you find both of your palms drenched in sweat upon contact.

“You’ve gone soft, ______”

You blankly admit in your semi-dazed state and it's Neuvillette's turn to take a deep breath. It's been a while since you've spoken that name aloud, the one that is only permitted to be uttered by you in private ambiances such as this and which serves as the origin for this clandestine marriage. For some reason you cannot quite comprehend — especially since your husband does not seem to suffer from it — your memory enjoys having a love-hate relationship with you. From what you recall at this instance, the last time you called the Iudex by his true name was when he gifted you this garden. Its utterance is so rare that even the bearer is rendered speechless each time.

Neuvillette copies your previous antics and pastes it onto the current situation with a prolonged look-over of your person, “Your apparel today suits you most exquisitely, mon trésor.”

You answer with a gracious eye-roll, “Don’t change the subject.”

The Chief Justice of Fontaine straightens his posture with a somewhat bashful chuckle, the afternoon sun's soft hues make the ivory strands of his hair sparkle. “Apologies, I've been meaning to compliment your appearance, not that it is ever short of radiant — I just could not find a suitable opening.”

You submit to the urge to slouch ever so slightly with a sigh, “You don't have to apologize for every little thing, you know?”

“Apologi—” Neuvillette corrects himself with a cough concealed by his fist, you watch with intrigue as soft coral dusts his pale cheeks, “As for your ‘question’, I will admit that throughout my coexistence with humans as Fontaine's Iudex, I've come to appreciate their ideals, characteristics and interpersonal relationships. In a way, I've understood myself to a great extent through observing them. Just as you wished I would.”

You furrow your brows in genuine confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your husband seems to steel himself for something, hands intertwined atop the oak table and eyes drained from his earlier playful light all too quickly. “You’ve always wished to become human. To view this world through the eyes of a mortal, to be able to have a taste of their myriad and complex relationships and... to die alongside someone you truly love.”

Somewhere in the crevices of your archaic mind, there's a vacuum hidden beneath the symphony of sea waves. Unchanging, uncharted and unperturbed by your attempts to identify what used to occupy that space. Neuvillette's cryptic admission creates a crack on what you assumed to be an empty spot occupied by white noise, the cleft dents your memories and spreads, a raucous scream threatens to rupture your eardrums.

“Are you, perhaps,” your fingers clasp onto the silk of your garb, “insinuating that you've granted me my ‘wish’?”

If you had gathered the strength to look up, you would've been blessed with the sight of the Iudex thrown off-guard. But the lapse in composure is short lived, “Of course.”

Something about his easy confirmation annihilates your decorum and replaces it with a rage of unknown origin, “So you think imprisoning me has made me happy? That it's made me feel human? That your kindness and preachings of justice have bewitched me so much that I've considered you as a lover for even a second? No, no and no! I have never and will never stop hating you, ______!”

But why do you hate him? Your thoughts echo back to you ; he's ensured you never have to ask for a meal, he's clothed you, he's provided a solid roof above your head and he's given you his heart — or at least that's what he says. For not once does a memory that he's mistreated you arise in your head but, what does bubble in your heart is an inexplicable hatred. A hatred so grave that it motivates you to not surrender to this unfair trial, contemptuous waves swell, rise to heights unseen, crash down—

“Do not forget that abandoned property belongs to whoever finds it first.”

And drag everything to the ocean's dark depths.

A jolt shakes your whole body, your eyes rise to meet the tempest in disbelief and suddenly, the dam shatters. Now you can see the serpent leering behind the charming flower, an unrestricted view of what the fair and ideal Iudex is inside those glimmering garbs of honor — a dragon with manicured claws and perfumed scales, seated to a chair of judgement yet, forever guilty of a sin he refuses to purge.

Only you remember that Neuvillette wasn't always like this ; in days not noted down in history he'd been an enigma, unsure of the significance of his existence, burning with contempt for the so-called Usurpers and sometimes cruel. But at least, he wasn't a hypocrite. He'd dug his talons deep into your heart and skin and engraved his name within your soul, he'd defiled the waters that construct your being with hatred and malice but at least, he hadn't refused to acknowledge that it was him who shackled you to this godforsaken nation, separated from the rest of your kin.

Neuvillette takes a deep breath upon noticing your erratic trembling, the tsunami recedes. “It always ends like this,”

It does. This excuse of a trial with your freedom as the wager, born of your husband's ironic belief of justice, that you should still be given a chance to speak up against iniquity. He'll take great note of any other issues that might cause you distress, but the actual concern will never be addressed — that's how it's been for five centuries. It is the kind of judge that Neuvillette has become in matters that concern you, finding loopholes to keep you attached to his name yet hidden from prying eyes ; all because of his principle that having a public personal relationship will bring the impartiality of the judiciary system to question.

“However, it must be done to ensure your safety.” you tense as he rises from his seat, gloved fingers trace the silk table cloth.

The grass crunches beneath his heel, “For who knows what the public's reaction would be if it was to be leaked, that the Iudex Neuvillette's spouse was the progenitor of the prophecy?”

You feel the familiar texture of Neuvillette's glove supporting your face, wiping the cascading tears that escaped without your notice. “Do you not remember, mon trésor, that you need me?”

Your vision blurs and all you see is blue, his blue or yours, your mind refuses to confirm. But what it does corroborate are Neuvillette's words, that you would not survive without his care, that you are the first who had wished to become human and that you are the first sinner.

You feel his touch more firmly this time, it's not warm like all the other times ; but soothing and sedating. As though, a cavity within your soul was given meaning and a portion of your memories hidden away. Your eyes are defeated against the temptation of slumber, but before the darkness engulfs you, you vividly hear the rumbling of an ensuing storm, the first of many tears of the sky hitting your skin.

“I suppose this must be my punishment. But, I would rather prefer being the recipient of your scorn and contempt than to not have you at all.”

But why go through such lengths? Neuvillette's conscience asks as he takes your limp body in his arms, the sound of heavy rain follows his footsteps back towards your shared ‘home’.

To this, he consoles himself : the words unspoken are the flower.

any questions regarding this fic are warmly welcomed <3

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin #teabutmakeitazure #neuvillette

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cillianhead · 6 months

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Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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urfavlarry · 1 month

Note

hello, I saw your reader who lives in the phantom universe fic and can we please get a pt 2 where reader gets transported back with them and starts school? Reader gets bullied because they haven't seen people for a long time and their social skills are lacking. You can ignore this if you want.

Thank you ❤

Tyler Hernández x reader part II

Part I

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, reader gets bullied, fem!reader

genre: angst with fluff at the end

A/N: if you want an Aiden version, message me<3

translations: hermosa-beautiful, mi reina hermosa- my beauiful queen, amor,mi amor- love, my love, mi vida- my life

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You groan, rubbing your aching head and hiss in pain as the warm summer sun hits your eyes like daggers. Wait. Warm summer sun? You quickly rise to your feet but stumble back, landing straight on your ass. “What the fuck? Is this what I think it is?” Your hands go through the soft grass, the wind brushing your skin making the temperature just right. Your heart beat quickens as you look around, seeing the oh so familiar house you last saw years ago. You shakily stand up and walk to the house. The door was just a few inches away, yet something was stopping you from knocking; “What if they moved on?” “What if they won’t want me anymore?”

You knock on the door softly and you hear a dog barking and footsteps; “We have a dog?” You wonder but freeze as you hear the door unlocking, and there she was; your mother. “Um, are you—” You get cut off by a bone crushing hug; “Oh Y/N my baby, you.. your back.. my baby..” She sobs into your shoulder as you stand there awkwardly, patting her back. She grabs you by the shoulder and looks at you with puffy eyes; “Where have you been all these years? Look at you! So grown up. Your hair..” She starts to ramble and you look at the house, your pictures still there, your baby photos.. everything was the same. Another pair of footsteps is heard throughout the house and you look past your mom’s shoulder. “Honey who was… it.” Your father drops everything on the floor and runs to you, engulfing you into a big hug, spinning you around. “Y/N I can’t believe it’s you.. you’re okay? Where have you been?” You look at them, your whole body trembling. “I must be dreaming.. this can’t be right.. i’ve bee stuck in that place for so long I must be hallucinating..” You mumble underneath your breath, your knees giving out.

Your parents look at you concerned, your mother going to get something while your father rubs your back soothingly, trying his best to comfort you. Your mother crouches down next to you and lifts your chin up to look at her. “It’s okay baby you’re home.. this is real okay?” She says and hands you a worn out stuffed toy. Your heart melts as you recognize the old thing, hugging it close to your chest. You stay there in their embrace for what feels like hours, not even noticing the fact you fell asleep. The next day you thought you would wake up back in that terrible place, but you didn’t. You woke up in a soft bed, warm blankets on top of you. You recognize the scent of the room immediately and smile softly. “Home..” You mumble and lift yourself up from the bed, your feet hitting the cold ground making your body shudder.

You walk downstairs, your parents making breakfast. You yawn and sit down in the living room, the dog jumping to lay beside you. A second later your mom and dad walk into the living room, handing you your breakfast with a quick kiss on the cheek from your mom. “Good morning, sleep well?” You nod and munch on your breakfast. ‘Finally decent food’ You think to yourself and finish eating. “Wow that was quick.” Your dad jokes and you smile, putting the dishes in the sink and walk back. “Soo.. I was thinking we could go shopping today? Since you only have your old clothes that probably will not fit you at all?” And so it was set!

You had a lot of fun shopping, you saw how styles have changed and well.. how everything has changed. Then it hits you; the other must be worried sick. You disappear into thin air and they don’t know where you are. “I should ask my mom if she knows her parents.” You think to yourself and look at your mom who was now driving you guys back home. “Wow we really sure spent a lot didn’t we?” She jokes and you chuckle awkwardly; “Um mom? Do you by any chance know the Banner family?” You ask and fiddle with your sleeves. She looks at you confused; “Oh they’re our neighbors, why? How do you know them?” “Oh um I saw them when we were going to the car!”

She looks at you unconvinced but drops the subject; “Well if you want we can invite them over? Their daughter Ashlyn is your age!” She smiles enthusiastically and starts to ramble about what she will make for dinner. And so dinner came around, your mother was cooking your favorite and you were setting the table while your dad was just watching TV. “Y/N honey I think they’re here, could you go open the door?” “On it.” You say and run to the door, and there she was; Ashlyn. You smile at them kindly and let them in, Ashlyn looking at you with a “what the fuck” face and you shrug. “Mom, me and Ash are going upstairs!” You don’t give her time to reply and drag Ashlyn to your room, shutting it behind you. “Where have you been!?” She whisper yells and paces around your room. “We were worried sick! Especially Tyler! He’s been going crazy for the past 2 days!” She says and sits down on your bed. You look at her and shrug; “I wish I could tell you how I got here but I really don’t know. I don’t go back at night like you do tho but I guess you’ve noticed that.” She nods and drops the topic for now, talking to you about school and who to avoid. You were starting school tomorrow and to say you were nervous was an understatement. You and Ashlyn would meet up every morning at the bus stop and go to school together along with Aiden and Ben.

The next day it’s just like you planned; meet up with Ashlyn and go to school together. You sat next to her after getting yet another bone crushing hug from Aiden and just a simple wave from Ben who in his own way was glad you were okay. Aiden yapped the whole way to school but you didn’t mind, it was nice being with them again. You were nervous about seeing Tyler. Would he be mad? You don’t know.

You walk with the others to the office to get your schedule which was basically the same since you’re in the same class. Suddenly the halls get crowded, people arriving in school and you get separated from the others, loosing them in the giant crowd. You look around frantically searching for them and try to push through the crowd mumbling quick a ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’. You get pulled back into a bathroom by a black haired boy. He was fairly tall and had shoulder length hair. “I um.. Hi..” You say and fiddle with your hoodie. “Hey newbie you looked like a damned lost puppy in that crowd.” He smirks and makes you back up into a wall. “I.. uh.” “Well what’s your name?” He says and put his arm next to your head, basically caging you there with him. “My name.. it’s ..the.. uh.. I mean it’s Y/N.” You say, slapping yourself internally at the awkward interaction. The boy laughs and goes to speak when another very familiar voice spoke up; “Hey you fucking asshole leave her alone.” He gets pushed off and you scatter to the door of the bathroom, watching Tyler beat the boy. You grab him by the shoulder and speak up; “We should.. go..” Tyler stands up, breathing heavily and leads you away.

Once you get away from the crowd he pulls you into a loving kiss. “You don’t know how much i’ve missed you mi reina hermosa.” He says and hugs you, lifting you up and spins you around. You chuckle and hug him back, kissing him on the cheek. “I missed you too Ty, let’s go to class we can talk later okay?” You say and smile at him, taking his hand and interwine your fingers. He leads you to the class and you get there just in time before the bell rings. You get pulled in front of the class by the teacher and you look down at the ground nervously. “Students this is our new student Y/N L/N, treat them with kindess even if they arrived in the middle of the year.” He says and smiles at you kindly. “Now go ahead and introduce yourself.” Your face feels hot and you stutter our a quick sentance; “Mynameisy/nandIliketolistentomusic.” You say and regret even speaking as most of the class starts to laugh. The teacher shuts them up and you quickly sit down in your seat, resting your head down on the table and try not to think about this awkward day.

And after that day the bullying began. You would get called names, people fake stuttering when talking to you and fiddle with their hands. You laugh awkwardly about it, not knowing how to protect yourself when Tyler wasn’t there to shut them up. You didn’t want to depend on him so you kept quiet about it and bottled up your emotions. Tyler quickly noticed your change in behavior. You were more quiet then usual and you weren’t as talkative as you were when you were in the phantom realm.

One day you were hanging out at his house, him laying on top of you while you played with his hair. He looks up at you with hooded eyes and flips you both so you were now the one on top of him. “Amor what’s up with you lately?” You raise a brow as a sign for him to continue. “Well, ugh.. just.. you’ve been so distant lately and you don’t talk as much as you did before.” He says and sits up, cupping your cheek and traces loving circles on it. “You know if somethings going on you can tell me, right?” He says and smiles softly. You contemplate what to say, should you tell him the truth? Well he already knows something is going on so it would be better if you did. But what if the bullying didn’t stop? What if it only gets worse? You shake off those thoughts and sigh, beginning to speak and tell him everything.

How the bullying started, who bullies you, how they bully you, literally everything. You ramble on and on, trying your best to tell him that it’s nothing but he shuts you up with a quick peck on the lips. “Y/N this is serious you know? It’s okay to be nervous around people. I mean, how long have you been without human contact aside me and the rest of the group?” He asks and you stay silent and frown. “Exactly. I promise to be here for you from now on and I am so sorry I haven’t been this entire time mi vida.” He says and pulls you into a warm embrace, inviting you to let out all of your emotions, which you do. You sob and ramble for what feels like hours on end and calm down after talking about it some more with Tyler. Your eyes were puffy and you looked away from him and joke; “Don’t look at me i’m probably not the prettiest sight right now.” You chuckle and wipe away your tears.

He pulls you closer by the waist and peppers your face with kisses, making you giggle. “You.Are.The.Most.Prettiest.Girl.In.The.World.” He says im between kisses and gives you one last kiss on the lips. “But really mi amor if anyone bothers you from now on come and tell me, but I will be by your side most of the time now okay?” Your hearts mealts and nod, laying back down with him and think to yourself; “Home at last..”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#sbg x reader #sbg tyler #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez x y/n #tyler sbg x reader #tyler hernandez #sbg tyler x reader #tyler hernandez x you #school bus graveyard x y/n #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #sbg #sbg webtoon #sbg (webtoon)

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vemuabhi · 1 month

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Hello! Can you do acts of service with kenma and suna? Please? Thank you.

A man of actions

This is one of my pieces for the mini event. Please enjoy and let me know what you think about this. Please forgive any mistake, it isn't proofread.

Prompt taken from here

Pairing : Suna X Reader

Word Count : 272

I was listening to Cruel Summer Japanese Version

Suna wasn’t the type to use words in a relationship. It wasn’t his kind of thing. A man of few words. He on the other hand, was definitely the type to show his affection through his actions. A reason why you fell in love with him in first place. Because he wouldn’t waste time by saying words which wouldn’t be resulted by actions.

The brunette noticed how you were holding your shoulders after a long day of work. He knew how hard you worked for the job you were doing right now. But he didn’t like how it made you to have aching shoulders.

He told you multiple times before to take care of yourself, but you didn’t listen. Kept working till you were tired because of the work load you were given. As soon as you got home, Suna took your hand in his and pulled you towards the chair.

“Rin, what happened?”

“Stay still Y/N”, he said as he pulled down your jacket. He took an oil bottle and from the fragrance you knew it was lavender.

He poured some oil on his hands and some onto your shoulder. Slowly his hands started to knead the sore shoulder muscles. The circular motions now were turned to applying pressure on your shoulders. You didn’t knew when he learnt to massage so good? But the smile on your face was all he needed to see to knew he did a great job.

Did you ask him to do it? No.

Did you tell him about your sore shoulders? No

But he knew what to do. Just knew how to make you happy.

Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!

#haikyū!!#haikyu #haikyuu #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #suna rintaro fluff #haikyuu fluff #my writing #mini event #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu x you #haikyuu!!

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blues824 · 1 year

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hello!! is it possible to ask for jessica rabbit like mc with twist guys of your choice?

I picked the ones that remind me most of Roger Rabbit, besides Malleus. I just like him 🙂

Cater Diamond

Would absolutely dote on you and spoil you, while simultaneously making you laugh more than you ever had before. His Magicam is filled with moments where he took pictures of you laughing.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he just melts like chocolate on a warm summer’s day. In fact, you call him those names more than you do his actual name, so he’s always flustered.

The way you’re able to smoothly flirt with him even in public always drives him mad. He always blushes and becomes shy whenever you’re being affectionate, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it!

Ruggie Bucchi

He is absolutely heart-eyes for you. Anything you say will be done within the next 5 minutes. He truly turns into a Looney Tunes character and would sprint across the world for you. You are the person he holds closest to his heart.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he just has a big dopey grin on his face for the rest of the day. It’s as if you put him under a siren’s unbreakable curse, drawing him to his doom. And by his doom, I mean cuddles at night.

You both flirt with each other all the time, but you always win the war. He might call you ‘hot stuff’ or ‘sugar’, but you are able to flirt so smoothly… as if it were any normal conversation, and it leaves him a blushing mess.

Floyd Leech

He is simping. He would drop whatever he has in his hands, be it a tray of food or another person, just to hang out with you. He always gets so happy whenever you visit him in the Lounge.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he calls you ‘betta fish’ because you’re gorgeous like one. You even once called him a ‘sea puppy’ because he always follows you around, waiting for your attention and praise

He doesn’t get the human version of flirting, so he will try his best. He’s the kind of person where it won’t click until later, then he’s screaming into his pillow while kicking his feet in the air like a middle school girl.

Kalim Al-Asim

He most definitely spoils you. You have the best jewelry and clothing that money could buy, all just because he loves you so much. You do feel kind of guilty, but he reassures you that it didn’t even make a dent in his fortune.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he gets flustered. He just calls you by your own name or ‘dear’ in response, but the latter is only used rarely. He’s not good with keeping nicknames, so please be patient.

He wouldn’t understand you trying to flirt with him, he’ll just smile and act like he definitely understands what you were trying to do. Jamil often has to tell him what you were doing, which is embarrassing for both parties.

Rook Hunt

He’s head over heels in love. You were just the fairest of them all, topping even Vil in all his glory. So what does he do? He follows you around, of course! Just like he does for everyone else who strikes his interest.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he calls you a lot of French names in response. ‘Mon amour’ and ‘mon ange’ are popular ones, but he also calls you ‘mon lapin’ for obvious reasons.

You both are very flirtatious, so much so that it makes everyone gag. You aren’t afraid to be lovey-dovey in public. Half the time, you are seated on his lap as you hold his face and press kisses everywhere. It makes him flustered, but he loves it.

Lilia Vanrouge

He is the Roger to your Jessica, alright? He’s goofy, childish at times, hyperactive, etc. He is as in love with you as you are with him. You already act like a married couple, and everyone makes it a point in telling you both.

Whenever you call him ‘darling’ or ‘honey bunny’, he loves responding by calling you his ‘spouse’ and ‘darling’. You use the nicknames more than your real names, and your contact names in each other’s phones are your nicknames for each other.

You both love to flirt with each other when you’re on your own but if you were trailing behind Malleus, you stop. The young prince has an image to upkeep, and you don’t want to mess it up by doing something to tarnish his reputation.

Malleus Draconia

A more graceful match. Malleus loves to follow you around. He always wants to be near or with you, but not in a suffocating way. Every single time, he picks up a rose and gives it to you whenever he sees you.

He loves it when you call him ‘darling’, but he would prefer if ‘honey bunny’ were kept behind closed doors. He will either call you ‘darling’ or ‘dearest’ because he just finds them fitting. It melts both your hearts whenever you see each other and your nicknames are the first thing you say to each other.

You don’t flirt out in the open but on your nightly walks or in private, Malleus is more of a smooth talker than everyone thinks. His words alone are able to sweep you off of your feet, and you’re the one who ends up flustered.

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valentine1994 · 3 months

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My 29 year-old bf says “Hello” in the beginning of his texts to me and “Have a nice day” in the end. Uses full stops at the end of affirmative sentences. Never uses emojis. He thinks that emojis are for people who are scared of how others could be interpreting their texts. I learned to not be worried when he sends “I’m waiting outside the metro station.” He is waiting outside the metro station and smiling despite the full stop. He was in the US during 2 weeks last summer and called me twice, sent one photo (a random truck). I like to think that we almost never met, but you could say that about every single person you ever met. Before our first date he texted “See you there at 17:30.” Full stop. And I didn’t find the bar. I texted him, asked for the full address, got no answer, and when I was about to give up I found the bar. I was going full main character syndrome at that time, and was living some kind of Stockholm version of Love Actually. Christmas, the snow and everything. Walked in through the wrong door and felt out of place in the fancy Konstnärsbar. He was waiting there with a book and a phone that had no internet, and had already bought us drinks like he was trying to drug me. During the next 6 months we exchanged letters and texted only when it came to practical details (when and where do we meet next month). I remember this one package that contained a random newspaper clipping about French pension reform strikes, August Strindberg's Röda Rummet and a letter that started with “Valentine!”

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michwritesstuff · 4 months

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Enchanting to Meet You (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton

summary: In your debut social season in London, you can’t help but be absolutely enchanted by a certain gentleman. You wouldn’t be lucky enough to find a true love match after one ball…right?

notes/warnings: no warnings, just all fluff! does this song not scream dancing with benedict for the first time! stolen glances and witty remarks! like hello?

word count: 1.3k

The carriage was moving impossibly slow.

Trees passing by at a snail’s pace as you watched the light of your aunt’s estate grow closer in the distance.

The desire to run to your bedroom and bathe in the excitement of the night intensifying as each moment passed.

“A lovely opening ball, was it not y/n?”

You snapped your head from leaning on the window to where your mother and aunt sat across from you.

“Yes, quite lovely indeed,” you remarked.

You had grown up coming to your aunt’s estate in the summers.

As a child, you remembered begging your mother to take you to London for the social season as your older sisters were being presented to society.

You wondered if your sisters ever had a night as magical as you did tonight.

And it was all because of him.

Benedict Bridgerton.

You liked the name Benedict; you had never met another one before.

The blood rushed to your cheeks, so scarlet, at the memory of dancing the night away with him.

“Oh y/n, you are looking quite ill. You have had such a busy night; it would do you well to get a good night’s sleep and think on the many gentlemen who will call on you tomorrow.”

You could not help but lay awake that night, the moonlight shining through the curtains, as you thought about the entire night. Replaying it in its entirety, from start to finish.

The conversation was effortless, no lulls or awkward pauses you experienced with others.

What would you do if he had not called upon you the next day?

Would you be forced to entertain the other prospects in hope of waiting and biding time for his affection.

Was there someone else in the picture?

Why had you not thought to ask his intentions?

Was the chemistry enough to guide you through this season?

Your endless thoughts were torture.

Finally dozing off, the moonlight soon disappeared as the darkness of the night sky was replaced by the bright and glistening rays of the sun.

A subtle knock came from the other side of the door, your lady maid calling out.

“Miss Y/N, we must start getting you ready.”

With one final powdering of your nose, you made your way towards the parlor room.

As you walked in you spotted Benedict sitting on the settee near the large portrait of your family.

He stood up immediately once he noticed your presence.

As your eyes met the memories of the night before came flooding back.

******

You stood with your mother and aunt at the edge of the dance floor, running your hands down your dress, doing your best to smooth out the ruffles from where you sat.

“Miss y/l/n, what a pleasure to have you join us this season.”

“Thank you, Lady Danbury,” you smiled politely.

“Let us hope that she is as lucky as her sisters in finding a great companion,” your mother said.

You nodded your head as you took in the scene around you.

Girls and their mamas circling like vultures, while still maintaining the perfect amount of poise to be considered elegant and respectful.

It was much more overwhelming than you were anticipating.

The magic of what you imagined as a little girl was slowly fading the more you felt the pressure of finding a husband by the end of the season.

If forcing laughter and faking smiles is what it took to get through the night, then so be it.

You had evaded a few gentlemen by writing down the name of poets on your dance card, smiling shyly as you quickly waved the ‘full’ dance card as a polite dismissal.

It was a pity really, you loved to dance.

The small talk and inquiring about your pianoforte on the other hand was quite detestable.

You had just gotten done pity laughing at Lord Hardy’s ‘humble’ comment about his many properties, when above his shoulder your eyes met a couple of cool blue ones across the room.

Your insincerity dropped, curiosity taking over as you excused yourself from Lord Hardy.

The man had done the same with whatever company had previously occupied him, gently patting the man in front of him as he maneuvered his way towards you.

As he approached you bowed your head slightly.

“Miss--?”

“Y/N”

“Miss Y/N, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I suppose we have not. I have just come to London for the season.”

“Ah, the marriage mart? Believer of love, are we?”

“Are you not?” you challenged back.

“In an artists’ sense, yes. Not in the way that I must bow, and you curtsy while we skate around each for months to appease our families What is it truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration? To delight in her beauty, so much so that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her.”

You were shocked by his seemingly earnest words. Perhaps the shallow nature of society was not present in everyone.

“Well, we seem to have that in common Mr.—”

“Bridgerton, but you may call me Benedict.”

“Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, the artist or a poet?” you teased.

“This doesn’t really seem like the company you would choose to surround yourself with,” you remarked.

“Quite true Miss Y/N. I fear I am rather trapped among the duties of my family to attend tonight’s ball. You see, my sister Eloise is in her debut season as well.”

You followed his gaze to where a young lady stood next to an older woman. From afar their relationship was quite clear, a mama instructing her daughter on all the dos and don’ts of the night.

“Might you join me in a dance Miss Y/N?”

You looked down to your dance card, the spots filled with fake names.

Benedict grabbed your wrist, bringing the cards towards him for a closer examination.

He laughed as he looked at the names written, scratching out the last two to write his own.

“I do hope Lord Keats and Lord Wordsworth don’t mind me taking their spots.”

“They’ll live, I hear they have greater things to attend to.”

“Greater than you miss? I have high doubts.”

You took Benedict’s hand as the music began to play.

Your hand felt so right in his, as natural as breathing.

You could not help the fluttering in your heart as he whisked you across the dance floor.

This moment, this is the moment you imagined as a young girl.

The playful conversation, perfectly countering his quick remarks. Is this what it was like to meet someone at your level?

Your insincerity and vacancy from earlier replaced by a fulfilling excitement.

“It seems highly improper to have danced continuously with you Benedict.”

“I suppose it is a bit suggestive, do you regret it?” he asked seriously.

You thought for a long second before you looked at him properly.

“No, I do not regret it. Your company is quite refreshing and enjoyable.”

“Coming from someone with your elegance, I take that as the highest compliment.”

You had spent the rest of the evening walking around with your mother and aunt, engaging in superficial conversations, your eyes constantly peeled for a certain Bridgerton.

Your stolen glances and playful smirks across the ballroom went seemingly unnoticed by most.

However, after a brief encounter with Benedict at the drinks table, you felt the wandering eyes of a young lady wearing a lovely yellow dress.

You smiled sweetly at her before returning to your mother’s side.

******

“Miss Y/N, I hope it is not a surprise for me to have called on you so early this morning?”

“On the contrary, I would have been quite disappointed if you had not.”

“Would you care to join me for a promenade?”

“I would be delighted Mr. Bridgerton.”

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

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eightstarr · 7 months

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omg hello my favorite writer!

now that we know how doctor abby x reader, we gotta know the lore with loser!ellie <333

hello my favorite girl! here is the origin story <3

ellie's in the middle of facetiming jesse (they call each other during their lunch breaks every single day, they're like each other's human version of a youtube video to eat with) when she sees you walk behind him, notice his phone and lean down to flash her a quick smile with the cutest wave she's ever seen and then promptly disappear. ellie flinches and straightens her back. her hand shoots up, holding the phone at what she thinks is a more flattering angle than the way she'd been holding it basically on her lap before. but you're gone before she could even wave back.

jesse raises his eyebrows at her pale face. "did you just realize you have to shit or something?"

"shut the fuck up," ellie hisses, her voice in a rushed whisper even though jesse is wearing headphones and you're clearly not around anymore. "who was that?"

"what? oh," jesse introduces you by name, says something about knowing you from high school. "she started working here like a month ago, so that's been fun."

ellie can't believe that he's known you for that long and hasn't mentioned you once before. "what the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks him. and she'll keep asking him periodically for the next several months— which she spends stalking your instagram, squinting her eyes at the background behind jesse everytime he calls (in case you're there) and casually visiting him at work when she's feeling bold.

she has her first real conversation with you one summer when you're both at a party on some guy's backyard. you compliment her jorts and tell her she's funny and ellie thanks god that she's just drunk enough to be cognitive and herself but also not overwhelmingly aware of every single thing that's happening. she leaves with your number on her phone (oh my god) and your gloss sticky on her cheek (oh my god????)

i'm sorry to say that you don't actually kiss until at least a whole year later though!! ellie's convinced that you just wanna be friends and she loves being your friend so so much, she wouldn't change it for the world! but also she does think about kissing you every night but she won't even hint at it until she thinks that you might be interested.

and she's really so fucking good at hiding it! ellie can be sneaky and i think we should talk about it more. like you don't even know if she fucks tbh but she has to be fucking, right??? she's so hot?? there has to be someone and she's just not telling you about it. it's not until you know her really well that you realize she's more open with you than she is with most people in her life and if there was someone she would tell you and now that you think about it why does she always always always make time for you, that's crazy!! what does that mean!!! you don't know because she's insane and doesn't register the way you look at her with hearts in your eyes as anything but friendly, so she's determined to respect your wishes and keep being your friend. you definitely end up kissing her first. it's worth it though <3

#loser!ellie #modern!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams headcanons

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krisdreaming · 11 months

Text

Daydreams

The things they daydream about | Timeskip!Captains version

A/N: Um, hi, hello. Yes, I've been gone for quite a while! I'll make a post later with more details 😅 For now, enjoy this lil thing I couldn't get out of my brain. Do the boys really daydream as much as I do? Almost certainly not, but LET ME HAVE THIS.

KUROO envisions you sharing this space with him. He sees your toothbrush next to his and the indentation of you left in the bed next to him. Your laughter echoes through the quiet rooms and while he eats dinner, you're telling him about your day. You send him out the door each morning with a kiss, and your things slowly collect on every surface. His apartment never felt empty before, but lately it seems to be missing something.

BOKUTO thinks forever might look something like this: your smile, backlit by the sun, as you turn and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and instantly weaves his fingers with yours. The setting is hazy, but you're at the center of it, and that's all that matters. Another in a long string of adventures with you, even if that adventure is nothing more than a trip to the grocery store, is all he could ever ask for.

KITA sees a quiet evening. The sun is setting in a late summer sky, and he balances two cups of tea as he steps out onto the porch. You're already there, settled into your rocking chair with your eyes closed, soaking in the last rays of the sun. It plays golden across your face, and he can't help but pause for a few moments to admire the scene before him. When he finally moves to hand you a mug, your eyes open, and a smile breaks across your face that's only for him. He presses a kiss to your lips and basks in the contentment of the moment. This is the culmination of everything he's been working towards.

DAICHI always tends to picture you with a melody on your lips. It's an adorable habit of yours, that he often catches you humming softly to yourself as you go about your day, and it carries over into his daydreams. He's coming home after a long day, and there you are, standing at the kitchen counter and humming to yourself as you chop vegetables for dinner. The sound dies on your lips when his arms go around you, and turns into a soft smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Welcome home," you murmur, and he can't help but smile back. He wants to come home to this every day for the rest of his life.

OIKAWA just wants your face to be the first thing he sees every morning. He'll wake you up in a thousand different ways, with kisses or gentle murmurs or his fingers finding the soft skin beneath the hem of your shirt. When your eyes open, a soft smile breaks across your face, and you snuggle against him for just a few moments longer. Soon enough, you'll both have to get up and face the world, but until then it's enough to simply exist in this moment.

USHIJIMA hears three little words. "Let's go home," you're murmuring against his chest as he holds you close in the airport. He's been away again, but you're always here to welcome him back. Home is the apartment he shares with you, full of countless pieces of your life together, and most importantly, you. Stepping inside the familiar walls feels like a weight is falling from his shoulders. Sharing a meal with you and holding you close in your bed afterwards fills him to the brim with a warmth he never wants to lose.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #kita x reader #daichi x reader #oikawa x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu

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nrdmssgs · 10 months

Note

Oh don't think you should worry about not using perfect German. Fanfics are for fun, seeing German in it is more like a bonus so i think it's fine as long as we can enjoy them! But thanks for the disclaimer :) i am so ready for that drabble btw 🔥 also as i promised a few days ago... May i make a fluff request? Insecure f chubby reader with your version of König. The kinda awkward, sweet, timid guy trying to comfort her. Add your own twist, i trust you with this! Pls ignore if this isn't ok. Thanks :D

Masterlist Comforting series: Soap comforting reader Price comforting reader

Hurt/comfort, fluff

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: Your old friend is happy to spend a free day with you. But one little memory haunts you.

TW: Mentions of bullying, mentions of rejection of ones body image.

The short trill of a smartphone is muffled by your jeans and t-shirt lying on top of it. You keep staring at your reflection in a fitting room mirror. Distant voices, shop ambient music, echoes of steps - you don't hear anything, but your rushing pulse.

Because right now you are a teenager again. It's first day of school, and you are happy, for the first time genuinely happy to be back. You've grown so much taller this summer, you've got a bit of a suntan and all those incredible new clothes! You just can't wait to meet your classmates as this new beautiful girl, they have never met before! You find familiar faces in the crowd in front of the school, make your way to them and loudly (unusually loudly, but this is the new you, who will never be shy again) say hello. First gaze falls on you, then a second, a third... and then they all turn in your direction. Something inside you shudders and shrinks into a helpless, desperate lump. They all grew up too and overtook you again. You look like a funny chubby baby again compared to them... What about their outfits? You thought you'd only wear something like that at the end of college.

"Wow, look who is adulting here, is that an above knee skirt on you?" You don't like the fake affectionate tone your classmate uses to address you. “But your mother didn’t tell you that you need to grow up, not grow wide for such clothes, sweetheart?”

How many years ago it was? Ten or fifteen already? And it still hurts. You look at your puffy thighs. “Shapeless!” - screams an angry voice in your head. Your gaze lifts to the curves of your belly and waist. “Vulgar! Too much!”. You raise your arms and look at the shoulder muscles stretching limply down. The dress you are trying on right now in a fitting room is so pretty, you are ashamed, you discredit it with your body. It is made not for you, you should have known better than trying on something so beautiful, light and airy. This fabric should flow easily over the body, and not wrap around every fold.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the plaintive squeak of your smartphone. You take it out from under your clothes and open a chat. “Are you ok? Do you need anything? I can bring you water or some other clothes in the fitting room.” (received 15 minutes ago) “Ah, sorry, it sounded like I'm pressing you. Take your time! Just please let me know, you are ok out there. I'm worrying.” (received 1 minute ago)

You frantically type in an answer, change back into your clothes and rush out of the fitting room. König stands before a pile of dark t-shirts and lazily picks them up one by one. “Oh no, you are not buying one of those here! I could get you a dozen on amazon for a price of one here!” You put on a jolly mask approaching him. “But those are fun! They have little cat footprints on the sides, look!” You start pulling him away from Ts, and he adds with a small smile, “I can always turn it inside out and no one but me will know..."

It's only when you two exit the shop, he understands it. “Wait, and what about that dress?”

“What's about it?” you take your jacket from his hands and despite hot weather take it on.

“You've wanted it so much, you've been waiting for the day, you could finally get it. Why didn't you buy it?” He desperately tries to catch your hand, to make you go a bit slower and finally face him.

“Na-a-ah, it turned out not that great, so I changed my mind. Forget it, it's no big deal.” You play it cool, because you don't want to let him down. He is in the military, he goes through hell on every deployment, so not letting your insignificant problems affect his mood is the least you could do.

“But, but you… you…”

You don't let König go on with his thought and change the subject. For the rest part of the day the two of you wander through the quiet, sleepy from the summer heat streets. Walking in a buttoned jacket in the scorching sun is not easy, but you stubbornly pull him on and on whenever he offers to take it from you. In the evening, you find yourself in the park. He somehow manages to get you on the bench.

"Can I ask you something? Are you feeling well?" His gaze is full of anxiety and concern.

"Of course! I had a great day with a friend, we went out, we had a great time! And I saved him a lot of money by not letting him buy those T-shirts!" You chuckle, but then you see his eyes. "Why are you asking? Is something wrong?" “Well, yes… I'm worried about you. Something happened in that shop, and it eats me from the inside. You barely stopped today to breathe and rest, you refused to have lunch, you torture yourself with this jacket all day, although I can see how hard it is for you. Even now, you're sitting on the very edge of the bench, like there's not enough room for the two of us. You were so happy in the morning, but then... as if someone put out the joyful light inside you. And if it really happened there, in the store - I would like to know what happened. Whoever it was - whatever nonsense they've told you - I want to fix this. Because I hate seeing you silently suffer like that.” As he speaks, blush appears on his face. It's clear, he overthinks again, if his thoughts sound acceptable, being spoken out loud. König is always like that: a kind soul too worried to sound weird. If only he knew, how much comfort he brought you.

“I'm sorry, I'll be ok soon. Promise. It happens sometimes. I know, it's high time I learn to accept myself, it's just… I sometimes understand, how much work lays ahead to be able to finally… love all this.” You lightly squeeze your sides and smile bitterly.

“You mean, nobody said or done anything in the shop? It all happened inside?” His worrying gaze meet yours. And when you nod and apologize for your behavior, he calls you by your name and takes your hand. “Please don't beat up yourself for not feeling well about yourself. I want to show you something, may I? But you'll need to sit on the bench properly. It won't work otherwise.”

You nod and slowly lean back, till you sit fully on the bench. “I know, how it feels, when a small thought ruins everything. One moment you think, how some guy told many years ago, you'll never be a sniper and the next few days you show your worst results on firing range. Or you accidentally drop a mug, it falls and breaks. And all night after that, your parents chastising you for being so clumsy in an endless nightmare. But I have learned a trick, that helps.”

Without letting go of your hand, he clamps in the fingers of the other hand a crimson bead of the bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “I name every bead and try to remember the names, when I feel down. This one for example is called ‘other people's opinions do not determine how well I shoot’. And this is ‘it was just a mug or plate or a vase, I can always buy a better one’.”

You listen to him and smile. A trail of warm words, positive affirmations, he always carries with him: that's really wholesome. He lifts your hand and pulls the bracelet from his wrist to yours. "I want you to try. Give one of them a name."

You are thinking. Something that could calm you now... But what could be? König patiently waits, and you feel uneasy from the long pause.

"Let's try together, okay?" He touches one bead, and you feel the warmth of his fingers at your very wrist. "I'd call this 'I'm Enough. I don't have to look different to be loved’. Sounds good?” You look down on the bead, on sunshine playing on its smooth surface, and a smile blooms on your face. König notices that and grins widely. “Ok, now it's your turn!”

You take a next bead, look at it. There is a little scratch on it, which reminds if something, that left a little scratch on your soul a while ago. “This one will be ‘It's ok, it doesn't look on me exactly like on a model from advertising. I am still beautiful just as her’.” “You are more beautiful,” adds König in a soft voice. Then he makes you name another one, then another and another. Some of them are funny, others are deeply personal, there are some reassuring, but still sad. In an hour you reach the last one - big bead on the knot of bracelet. It has many scratches, so first you ask him, what was his name for it. “I'll tell you one day. Just… not now, ok?” He looks down for a moment, but then the smile returns to his face and König adds, “How about we go have dinner? I was too shy to admit it, but i'm starving.”

You feel that hate and fear let go of your mind. And with that comes hunger. “Me too,” you smile, looking at the bracelet on your wrist.

***

A few months later from that day, König is almost finally done with the last step of a big mission, he was deployed for. It was early morning, he and his squadmates headed on the last operation. König leaned back in his seat, looking somewhere up. His fingers involuntarily clutched at the center bead of the bracelet: the same as his old one, but a little darker. You gave him this one. König tried very hard to take good care of your gift, but now his tactical gloves scratched a large bead. His lips, hidden behind a veil, silently repeated the same phrase.

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”

“Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen.”*

*Ich werde unversehrt zu ihr zurückkehren und den Mut aufbringen, sie um ein Date zu fragen. - I will return to her unharmed and have the courage to ask her out.

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kooktrash · 8 months

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MY OC AND JUNGKOOK COUPLES AS HELLO KITTY AND DEAR DANIEL DYNAMICS

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

SUMMER BUMMER, BABY

DEPEND ON ME

DITTO

GUYS MY AGE

MY DEAR FRIEND

FIGHTING HEART

SEVEN DAYS TO LOVE

COOL WITH YOU

CAMPUS AFFAIRS

Kuromi and Badtz Maru as ROMANTIC DREAMS

but before I end this

a special ode to the first and bestest hello kitty boyf 🥺

TUXEDO SAM AND HELLO KITTY

Taehyung version coming soon

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #Jungkook fic #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #hello kitty

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harrysblues · 1 year

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Clean Baby

The one in which Harry comes back from work, and the only thing he wants to do is have a shower with his newborn.

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After spending so much time working on his upcoming album Harry's House, the only thing Harry wants to do is get home to cuddle with his wife and his newborn. Y/N had given birth three months ago to a precious baby girl, Kennedy Gem, that Harry completely adores. He still doesn't believe how much he loves the little thing.

All he had wished to do since his sunshine had been born was to stay home with his family. Unfortunately, Kenny came three weeks early, and all Harry could do was rush through the last couple of things he had yet to arrange for his album release next month.

Even though he had been touring in America, Y/N's pregnancy had been kept a secret to the public. This means that not many people know what Harry has waiting for him at home, and how much he hates being away from home lately. The couple knows that they are going to need to start telling people soon, due to Harry going on tour to the UK and Europe during the summer, and Y/N and Kenny are going with him. However, they want to enjoy the most out of her without being bothered about how things are going, or people wanting to get their hands on pictures of their baby.

Harry got out of a meeting with Jeff and rushed home to be with both of his girls that he absolutely adores with his whole entire heart. They are literally the center of his universe, and the purpose that pushes him to be the best version of him everyday.

"Oh my baby, weren't you so hungry?" He heard Y/N coo right after he enters through the door. "You're the cutest thing I've seen in my entire life".

Harry is fast to lock the door and get to his family in the living room, and when he sees both of his girls on the sofa, wrapped in blankets because it is still chilly out, and Y/N breastfeeding Kenny while looking at her lovingly, he knows he made it. He is been dreaming about this his whole life.

"Hello my angels" He says while quickly sitting down in the sofa right by their side. "How has your day been? I hope fantastic. I've missed you both so so much".

He gives Y/N a passionate kiss, and they separate when they hear their baby make the cutest noise ever. "Yeah, sunshine. Do you also want a kiss?" Harry coos, and immediately kisses his baby's forehead. He is mesmerised with the way she's bonding with her mum right now.

"She's almost done, but she needs a bath. Your mum called and I got distracted" Y/N informs Harry. "She invited us to go to her house this weekend for a family get together. Gemma is also going".

"I'll call her tomorrow to let her know we are going" Harry answers. "But can I please be in charge of bath time tonight? I've missed my little ray of sunshine so much today, you have no idea".

"Oh, is that so? What about your wife?" Y/N says in a playful manner. "Did you forget about your wife when your daughter was born, or what?"

"Of course not, my love. We are soulmates, and I'm yours forever and ever" He says while burying his face on her neck. "You're the muse of all my songs, and the best thing to ever happen in my entire life".

Y/N looks at him, sees the way he is literally drooling over his daughter, and decides to agree to Harry being in charge of bath time. "Okay, I'll let you. However, you have to promise me that this won't be a recurring thing. Kenny is already so attached to you, if she starts getting used to showering with you she won't have it any other way ever again".

"Perfect, perfect, perfect" Harry celebrates. "C'mon Kenny baby, let's go get ourselves clean. Do you want to be a clean baby? Yes?" Harry takes his daughter from her mum's arms and burps her before cradling her in his arms and standing up to get to the bathroom.

"I'll be back in a bit, my love" He tells his wife. "Rest for a bit, put on your favourite show, but please don't worry about anything. You have been working so hard these last couple of months without me here, it's your turn to relax".

Y/N knows that Harry is doing the best he can to balance everything that's going on in his life right now. Nonetheless, her heart melts a little at how sweet he is being about everything. He is all she's ever asked for.

The couple shares a sweet kiss, and Y/N watches Harry and her daughter leave the room to go have a bath, so she doesn't hesitate to take up Harry's offer, and put on her favourite show.

Harry walks with Kenny in his arms to the bathroom, where he starts the shower, so that the water warms up to the perfect temperature for his baby girl, and he prepares the towels for when they get out. Then, he carefully undresses Kenny, as well as himself down to his boxers, and they both get in the shower.

Harry has his back to the shower stream, careful so it doesn't bother his little angel, while he holds her close to his chest. He did this for her first bath, because he was very scared of anything happening to her while in the water and he knew she was the safest in her daddy's arms. Ever since then, he does this as much as his wife lets him. He bonds with Kenny the best during bath times like this one, and he is determined to do this as long as his daughter lets him.

Once they are both completely wet, Harry takes a soft cloth, and with a little drop of baby soap, he starts washing his baby. She is sleepy in her father's chest, seeing as she loves listening to his heartbeat whenever she lays there. So when she notices her sleep being disrupted, she starts whimpering.

"Oh no, sunshine. Don't cry" He says softly to her. "It's just daddy cleaning you up, isn't that right? Didn't you want to be a clean baby?" Kenny stops the moment she hears her fathers voice, and looks up to him with the cutest smile ever.

"Hello, Kenny baby" He coos down at her. "It's bath time with daddy! We love bath time with daddy!" Harry exclaims while bouncing her a little and tickling her stomach. She lets out the most beautiful giggle Harry has ever heard, and he is completely sure he'll never get tired of it.

"How has your day been? Did you have fun with mummy?" He asks her softly while cleaning her body and shampooing the little curls she has started growing. "I'm very jealous that you get to spend so much time with her, especially cuddling. I love cuddles, you know that?" Kenny sees her father talking, and decides to start mumbling and making noises, as if she was answering all of his questions. Harry doesn't doubt it for a second, and he immediately starts talking to her as if she knew what he was saying.

"You love mummy's milk? Is that what you are saying?" The smile could be heard in his voice, as he was looking down at his precious daughter. Kenny squeals and slaps her little hands softly on her daddy's chest, making him chuckle. "We are so grateful for what she is doing for us, isn't that right? She is the most wonderful woman ever, and you are so lucky that you get to learn form her. You are going to be just like her".

The conversation carries on, Harry not once getting bored with the cute interaction, and he finishes giving her a bath and also, washing his body and hair. He would lie and tell Y/N that washing himself with only one arm wasn't difficult, but he would do it every day for his baby girl. It was very difficult for him to explain the bond he had with his daughter during these showers. The idea of her being completely dependent on him was something he thought about every single day. And he obviously loved every single minute of it.

Once both of them are clean, they get out of the shower and Harry carefully wraps Kenny in a very fluffy baby towel with a hood and bear ears on top. It was a gift from Mitch and Sarah for when she was born, and it is the cutest thing ever. Harry can't help but take pictures of her and send them to the love band's group chat every single time she uses it.

He creadles her in his arms again and wraps another towel around his waist. He obviously struggles, and he notices Kenny is watching him in the mirror when she lets out a very loud laugh, seeing her daddy drop his towel many times until he manages to wrap it in place.

"Oh my, Kenny baby! Are you laughing at y'daddy?" He jokingly reprimands her. "Does daddy make you laugh? Yeah?" He only gets more belly laughs from her, and he smiles so big, both of his dimples very prominent on his face, that he swears his cheeks are going to fall off. He is even trying to make her laugh harder, making weird faces at her while they both look at each other through the mirror.

When Kenny starts shivering a little, Harry knows it's time to get her dressed in a very cute pijama and put her to sleep. She was about to fall asleep on his chest after all, so he carries her to her bedroom and dresses her in his favourite pijamas of hers, decorated with little cherries, right after putting lotion on her with a very long massage. He loved pampering his girls, and he wasn't embarrassed to show it.

When she has her hair brushed, and she is ready for bed, with her pacifier on her mouth, Harry brings her to his bedroom so he can get ready.

"I know you're sleepy, sunshine. Let me get dressed and we'll go say goodnight to mummy, alright?" He tells her, while laying her in the middle of his king sized bed. He surrounds her with pillows so she won't roll and fall, although she is too tired to even move.

Harry goes inside his wardrobe to get into his pijamas really quick, and he looks at her playing with her hands at the top of her head while he is in his bathroom, doing his skincare and styling his hair.

"Let's go, angel" He kisses Kenny on the forehead, while picking her up and laying her against his chest. "We have to wish mummy a very good night, isn't that right?" Kenny softly coos, and Harry melts at the sound of her little voice. He can't wait for when she's able to tell him how she feels, or what she thinks.

When they get to the living room, Y/N is asleep on the couch. Harry quickly notices, and without wanting to wake her up, he gets down on his knees right next to her to give her a kiss on the forehead. "C'mon Kenny, give mummy a kissy so we can go to sleep" He whispers.

Right when he is about to get up from the floor to put Kenny to sleep, Y/N stirs awake. "Harry, cuddles please" His wife's demand earns a chuckle from Harry, but he doesn't think twice. He hands Kenny to Y/N, and he gets on the couch besides her to cuddle with the love of his life and his baby.

With the TV playing softly, the warmth of the blankets the three of them are wrapped up in, the feeling of his wife breathing, and the peaceful noises coming from his baby, Harry is in heaven. This is the best life he could have ever wished for, and he could never be happier.

First post! Please let me know if you like it and want more! Alsooo, don't forget to reblog :)

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liatronn · 14 days

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ROAD TRIP

summary - um i actually dont know what the summary is 😂😂😘🔥💔

warnings - switch!chris i think x reader, car sex, semi public? (correct me if im wrong), no use of y/n, use of pet names (ma, baby, princess) swearing, oral (m! receiving) use of lowercase

not proofread 💔

a/n: HI HELLO THIS IS MY FIRST SMUT BARE WITH ME PLEASE CHAT😣😣🙁🙁💔💔

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you’ve been in the car for at least 4 hours now with madi, nate, and the triplets. you guys are heading back to LA after being in boston for 2 weeks, the car ride was boring since all you guys did was argue. your boyfriend, chris, was in the front as always, and you madi, nate, and nick were in the back since matt was the driver, obviously.

about 40 mins in you guys reached a gas station, everyone got out to stretch their legs since we were all cramped up in the car. you guys went into the store for some snacks and some drinks, took awhile cause nick couldn’t decide what he wanted “nick, hurry the hell up bro im ready to go back to sleep” nate shouted at him.

“can you shut the fuck up i’m trying” nick shouted back. “can you both shut the fuck up” you spoke while walking out of the store heading back to the car.

as everyone was walking back to the car nick decided to sit in the front which left chris in the back with you, along with nate and madi. the car was a little cramped in the back since everyone had but their bags back in the back.

there was no room but there was one empty spot left and chris managed to take it. and it left you no choice but to sit on his lap, you knew how chris felt about it too.

he loves the way you adjust yourself on him, he loves admiring every inch of you, he especially loves seeing your back tattoo you got not to long ago. he loves looking at it every time you guys fuck. reverse cowgirl is definitely his favorite position now, missionary is still his first.

it was about 30 minutes into the ride and everyone kept yelling at each other while you were still trying to adjust yourself in chris’s lap, “whats up with you baby?” a slight smirk was growing on his face as he spoke. “nothing.. its just so crowded back here.” you said still somewhat adjusting yourself.

you finally adjusted yourself and you sat down on top of chris, took awhile, but you managed to work it out. “Playing games” by summer walker and bryson tiller was playing in the background to drown out the uncomfortable silence.

you rocked your hips a little bit to the song, slowing grinding on chris. he looks you up and down with a smirk growing on his face from the way your moving, you keep slowly moving back and forth on him until you felt him growing beneath you.

you turned around and looked at him with a small smile on your face. “sorry princess, cant help it.” he smirked ask he kissed your exposed shoulder.

another 2 hours passed by and you guys finally reached a town in the middle of nowhere, nick kept on bragging about how bad he had to use the bathroom, it took enough courage for matt not to sucker punch the living shit out of him because of how much he complained.

“hurry the fuck up nick, i don’t have all day.” matt yelled as he also got out the car. as you were getting up to follow everyone inside of the store, chris slammed you back down onto his lap. “so you think you just get me hard and not do anything about it?” he growled. you turned around and stared at him in silence as a small smirk started growing on your face.

you turned around and straddled yourself on top of him. you crept your hand onto his print that was noticeable, you palmed him through his pants and thats where he bottomed out. he was too embarrassed to look you in the eyes as you kept eye contact with him, his hips bucked into your hand practically begging for more as you palmed him.

“please ma..” he mumbled “please what baby, i told you to use your words.” you spoke. “i want you to..” you cut him off by smashing your lips against his. you’ve been waiting for his lips all day, it was only thing you really ever thought of. he whined as you pulled away from the kiss

your hands crept up his waistband “can i?” you spoke as you slightly tugged on it, he nodded rapidly. “words baby.” you softly spoke, “yes, please, please i need you..” he said under his breath. you slowly pulled down his pants along with his boxer, his tip was a light pink, a little red from his boxers. his tip was leaking with pre-cum, he was a good 8 inches but you were still surprised by his size.

“please mama, i need you so bad.” he whined as he thrusted himself into your hand. you began to kiss his neck, leaving noticeable hickeys. you make it back up to his mouth as you began to kiss his pink, swollen lips. you began to move your hand unexpectedly on dick causing him wince and whimper into your mouth.

“look at me baby or i’ll stop.” you began to pull his head up to lock eyes with him, he throws his head back and bites his lip. you slow down a little bit cause him to lift his head back up, he gripped his hands tightly on your thighs so you basically knew he was close, he was practically moaning like a bitch. you had to pretend like you weren’t soaked like a motherfucker.

you heard the car unlocked and quickly got yourself together before getting chris together. “we can finish this later baby they’re coming back” you spoke after giving him a kiss on his temple “but i can’t wait until later ma, i need you now” he whined while laying his head onto you, kissing your shoulder. “i know baby but your gonna learn how to wait for me” you spoke running your fingers through his hair.

“when we get home its my turn by the way sweetheart.” he smiled as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “chris you were just whining like a bitch, quit it.”

UM GUYS I DONT THINK I LIKE TIJS SOS HELP 🙁🙁💔 ermesies like i said tbis is my first so like bare with me and yea 😘

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #smut #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #car ride #road trip #nate doe #madi filipowicz #Spotify #shitpost #first post

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ataleofcrowns · 2 years

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New Chapter Released!

Hello again! Hope your summer has gone well 🌻

I know I said the public release would be September 19th, but technically it's already the 19th in my timezone so I thought, why not drop it at midnight?

With the public release of this new chapter we’re diving into courtly intrigue as the Crown becomes accustomed to their new day-to-day life:

Meeting the Imperial Court, as well as the different factions and political agendas at play

Choices that will influence the Crown’s reputation, and one that may even be locked off depending on previous decisions made. Did you prioritize the public, or forget about them among all the commotion?

Variants of how your chosen love interest will react to your Crown, depending on previous relationship choices your Crown has made. Do you have a low relationship, or a high one?

Two branching routes that each have three different variants depending on what your Crown chose with regards to security and safety. Will you get the best outcome and save lives, or the worst outcome and see casualties? Perhaps somewhere in between?

The love interests are also on the move, some of them quite literally...

A few additional changes made to the game overall:

Note the updated content warnings!

Changed the name mentioned by Mîr Lîlan during A's Chapter 7 romance scene, if you choose to eavesdrop on them. I won't mention it here to avoid potential spoilers.

Due to issues on mobile and the itch.io app, renaming your saves manually will no longer be possible if you use the in-game save menu. The game will automatically save with your Crown's name, the chapter you're on and the LI route you're on if applicable.

Existing saves may show "CH0" if you load one up that was made in the middle of a chapter, but once you pass through the start of a new chapter, it should correct itself. In other words, it’s not a bug!

Of course, it’s still possible to rename your saves if you Save To Disk, which is what I always recommend over using the in-game save menu.

Thank you for all your patience and support, I hope you enjoy the new chapter with the nearing end of this summer 💖

For those that are unfamiliar with the game

A Tale of Crowns is a high fantasy romance story, told in the form of a text-based interactive novel with choice mechanics. The setting is inspired by Kurdish culture as well as other historical settings in the Middle East such as Ancient Persia, but it also draws heavily from other cultures and countries in the region.

Your character is native to Arsur, a vast empire overseen by a single ruler known as the Crown. Unlike traditional monarchies, however, the title is not inherited through blood. Whenever the Crown dies, their famed golden eyes pass on to the one chosen by the Spirits of this world to be the new Crown. In this story, your MC takes on that role.

There are four different love interests to choose from, whose genders will be customized to suit the preferences of your Crown. You can find more info about them on the blog page!

Also note that this current version of the game is safe for those 16 years and older.

Like the premise so far? Play it and give it a try! The entire game is free!

If you enjoyed the game, please reblog! Share it with your friends! Recognition and reader interaction is just about the only thing I get in return for creating it ❤️

#interactive fiction #twine game #interactive novel #choice game #chapter update

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cheralith · 11 months

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a dedicated tenderness — 「 knives (nai) x reader 」

content warnings ; none

contains ; college!au, modern!au, secret relationship, just plain fluff with hundred spoons, polygun being sillies

notes ; could be read as a continuation of the previous nai fic, could not! still has the same aspects of it tho :3

You had met the Saverems when they moved across the street just barely diagonally from your house when you were just shy of six years old. Vash had caught you staring at their moving truck from behind the tall oak tree that provided a shaded sanctuary amidst the blazing summer heat. He remembers waving hello to the eyes that peeked out from the trunk of it before they flinched and ducked behind the sturdy wood again, slowly creeping back up to see if the pair of bright turquoise eyes were still staring at yours.

And when they were, Vash, being the more friendly and lively one of the two twins, decided to take it upon himself and drag his brother to go greet their new neighbor.

"Hi!" A sauntering young Vash had called cheerily to you, who was still hiding shyly behind the oak tree. "Are you our new neighbor? We just moved here!"

The young twins had managed to circle the trunk of the tree and before them stood a child around their age adorned in a colorful striped t-shirt and dirt-dusted overalls. Vash remembers you stepping back from the eager youngster, a less enthusiastic and distant version of him trailing not that far behind. You nodded, kicking at the dirt and not wanting to make eye contact with the sparkled-eye boy.

"My name is Valentinez, but you can call me Vash," he had said to you with a bright smile. He gestured to his lighter blonde and much more aloof counterpart. "This is Knives, you can call him Nai."

Your shy demeanor had suddenly faltered for a swift moment, your eyebrows getting all scrunched up in confusion at the odd names given to the two boys that little did you know, would set a place in your heart for the rest of your life. And it's returned back to the Saverem brothers. Your existence has stained each brother in such a unique way, and both Vash and Nai don't think they'll ever be able to forget you, not when your first words to them were,

"You guys kinda have weird names."

Such a sentence had lead a divide of two contrasting relationships involving the brothers—on one hand, Vash had taken it lightly to heart and merely laughed it off, easing himself into a breezy and steady friendship with you. On the other, Knives, or Nai as (only) you and Vash refer to him, had jutted out his lower lip in offense and insulted your dirty overalls, not taking into account that children still didn't have a filter before the age of ten. It forced you and him down a winding and tangling path, one that was devoid of flowery compliments and fresh smiles and laughs like the path of friendship you and Vash walked down together.

Oh no, the road you took with Nai was much more rocky, much more dwindling, and much more confusing. Insults jabbed at you and him like thorns as you'd trip over nonsensicality like sprouted tree roots waiting for you to stumble over them. The weather is never consisted as you travel down with him (never hand in hand, he'd so much as hiss out in faux pain whenever you'd brush against him). It could be stormy one day—the clouds heavy with misunderstandings, arguments and tears. It could be partly sunny—a ray of light peeking over the dismal clouds, similar to the nature of kindness that rarely shone through sometimes. Or it could just stay cloudy, as it has always been since the dawn of your "friend"ship with Nai.

Regardless of relationship status, there was certainly one thing that Vash had always knew of—that his brother had always had a quiet admiration for you. He just never seemed to act on it as much as other suitors of yours did. He isn't actually sure when Nai began to see you in a different light, but Vash can confirm that the longer he waits for something miraculous to happen, the more time will eat him alive.

He's seen it on his brother's face before. When you began your first relationship back in the more tender days of high school beginnings, Vash's eyes behind his glasses had flickered to a pair of similar ones across from him as you had introduced your then-boyfriend and he remembers the heaviness and ruddy ache that flittered across Nai's cavernous eyes. They contrasted your glowing ones, eyes filled with life and hope for the better future as you showed him off to everyone.

It was almost ritualistic, Vash thinks. Nai never seemed to care for romance unless it came to you. Vash thinks Nai would break all pairs of his glasses if he were to ever to say anything of a sort to his face, but he knew Nai was saving that blank space in his heart for you to fill, whether he realized it or not.

Nai Saverem is picky with people. He doesn't befriend those as easily as his younger brother, preferring to stay alone and distant with people that could easily take up his time so carelessly. It's why he shoos away any of his admirers with a cold glance that tells them they have zero chance with him and why there seems to be a certain thickness in the air whenever he's around that creates an invisible bubble around him. It's a thick barrier that refuses to let unknown others in and lets them know they won't be welcomed anytime soon. Introverted as he is, his energy is only so small, so there's a certain brand of people that wastes his time and therefore, he only uses his energy on people that he thinks are worth using it for.

And so Vash can't necessarily say he's too surprised like the others when Milly makes a separate groupchat that contains a series of images involving the two people excluded from it. The first is of Nai waiting outside the science building where your final class is held during Fridays. It was an odd place for him to be considering he only had one class on Fridays and would usually be home by mid-afternoon, so it was strange that Milly had caught him during the peeking hours of twilight still on campus.

The second is an image of you walking out the building and waving a hello to him, followed by the third of you and Nai's blurry figures connected via your hands in a sunset-inked sky making your way to Nai's car. The fourth of the photo sequence is a video. With a soft tenderness from Milly's hands, you get into the passenger seat with ease, the normal conversation of hostility and teasings between you and him seemingly devoid because there's no snooty faces or rolling of eyes. But it's when Nai properly starts the car that things take a turn. Its engines revving to life, he takes the time to pause and properly cradle the back of your head with his hand and properly give you a brief but soft kiss before pulling back with a dust of pink on his cheeks at the sight of your giddy, miniscule smile.

Behind the camera Milly gasps and drops her phone out of surprise on the concrete, and the video echoes the crack of the screen's phone before Milly's whine of "Oh no... it broke!" ends the video.

As buildings and nature of all arrays pass by, Vash replays the video over and over again in Wolfwood's car, examining it and the other images in full and wondering how Nai's daydreams finally came to life. Vash rubs his eyes behind his glasses, still attempting to process if what he’s seeing is real—that his icy older brother was truly thawing his resolve at the sight of you visibly and blooming a foreign affectionate that even Vash rarely sees nowadays.

Wolfwood groans when he hears the sound of the beginning of the video play again, grip tightening on the steering wheel as his knuckles whitening out of annoyance. "Would ya cut that out already! I get it, they're datin'!"

Vash flinches at his boyfriend's irritated tone. He tucks away his phone with a hasty laugh and apology. "Sorry, I'm just a little baffled that they're finally together after all these years."

The brunette makes a sort of scoffing noise. "I didn't lose all hope that your brother would never find love, but in all my years, I didn't expect it to be (Y/N) out of all people," he mutters, a cigarette dangling from his hand that sits on the edge of the window, its peppery scent lingering softly in the car. "How long do ya reckon they'll last?" he asks everyone in the car. "My bets on three months, their bickerin' is gonna put an end to it 'fore somethin' else does."

"That's mean, Wolfwood," Meryl scolds and flicks him on the back of his head, earning a yelp from him. "I'll admit myself I don't know how those two came to be, but I only wish them well and if they're happy with each other, that's all that matters."

Milly chimes in with a positive cheer. "Agreed! I'm just happy that Mr. Knives has finally found someone!" she chirps. "I really didn't want him to end up as a sad old grandpa alone."

"I wasn't insultin' them," Wolfwood huffs, "I was just merely statin' the reality. Y'all saw it earlier today too—both of 'em playin' musical chairs with the seat Knives stole in the lounge when (Y/N) got up to go get water."

Meryl shakes her head. "It's still really mean to assume their relationship won't last. I don't know about you guys, but I can see them—hey! You missed the turn!"

"Shit!"

Wolfwood swears aloud, hissing as he realizes he's passed the entrance to a vast park on the busy street. He makes a swift and hasty U-turn on the road that makes everyone grip onto the nearest object for dear life before zooming into an entrance that lead to a hidden field in the woods. The car slowly drives by it, where everyone can see a a lone picnic blanket atop a small hill with a laptop playing Miss Congeniality sits on a picnic basket. The back of two people face the parking lot, and it doesn't take long for everyone in the car to assume who they were.

On Fridays, it was a ritual to go to someone's house for a relaxing movie night and just wind down with everyone's presence for the evening. Today, however, you and Nai had excused yourselves from it with what seemed to be valid excuses until Milly's paparazzi work had jumbled in hours later.

“Can’t,” Nai droned, his eyes still glued on his laptop. “I’ve some papers to grade for one of my classes before the midterm ends.”

“And I’ve got a lab report to write up with my lab mates later,” you mentioned. “I can catch next week’s if that’s okay.”

It clicked to them that it was secretly code for you and Nai to actually attend a secret picnic movie date, which Wolfwood took mild offense to as Miss Congeniality was one of his favorite movies, disliking that it was being used for a date out of all things.

"They can't be serious," Wolfwood sneers as he pulls into a coveted shady area of the parking lot, safe from yours and Nai's view but still able to provide the gang with proper sights. "What screams romantic about Sandra Bullock having to attend a pageant? There's literally so much better romcoms out—"

"Shut up!" Everyone scolds.

"You'll give away our cover!" Meryl hisses. "The point is to be subtle and quiet, you idiot!"

Wolfwood snides and rolls his eyes, his hands throwing up in surrender.

On the other side of the hill, you gently press another strawberry to Nai's lips. His teeth gently bite into it, the juices of it slowly seeping out from the corner of his lips for your thumb to scrape away, a feather-like touch grazing his lips as it does so. You go to stare at the red-stained tint on them for a moment unconsciously, the natural gloss the fruit left off almost hypnotizing you.

It goes unnoticed by Nai, however.

"If you wanted a kiss, just say so," Nai says, plucking the greenery of the strawberry out your hand to put it into the trash pile.

You break out of your trance with a stunned shiver going up your spine at the sound of Nai's casualty. It was still somewhat unnerving for him to be saying such things, especially considering how he used to be before you two began dating. Words conveying such warmth were still unusual to hear, but it wasn't like you didn't like it.

A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you blink. "What? No, I was just simply... going to fix your collar, that's all!" you lie hastily. Your hand goes to fidget with an already-neat shirt collar before your wrist is grabbed by Nai's own. It pulls you into him and Nai's lisps peck your own quickly before his attention returns to the movie like nothing had ever happened.

You swear you can feel some steam coming out of your head. While you were usually the one that began the small touches of affections, it always felt different and much more intimate when Nai would return them or replicate them in his own fervor. Maybe it was due to the lack of intimacy he displayed to anyone else, or perhaps because they were from Nai himself that they felt more personal—the man who barely showed any emotion to anyone other than distaste and apathy—and so for such an individual to be sharing such liaison with you just felt more close to heart because he chose you to share it with.

"I thought you weren't one for PDA..." you mutter, fighting the urge the lick your lips as the acidity of the strawberry leftover lingers on them.

Nai shrugs. "We're the only ones around here, so the 'P' aspect of PDA doesn't necessarily apply right now."

"That's what you think," you interject. "There could be some weirdo prodding around the bushes as we speak, spying on us, y'know!"

He lets out a soft snort as the ending scene begins to play out, where Sandra Bullock begins to give her speech about friendship in the banquet hall starts to seal up the ending ropes of the movie. "And what weirdo would want to spend their time spying on two college students on a picnic?"

"A weirdo who tends to enjoy movies and real-life romance."

"Those people don't exist."

"To you they might not, but to me anything is possible."

"Shut up before I kiss you again."

You snort aloud, fighting the urge to react to his declaration like a schoolgirl. "You're acting as if I don't want th—"

Milly gasps loudly as she watches Nai dips his face to yours to once again, kiss you, but with more ardor than the last, this one lasting much more soundly than the previous one. She can sense there's true passion and dare she say, genuine love, in it and she melts at the sight of it fondly.

Vash himself watches the scene unfold with wide eyes, pausing his munching on his sandwich as he hogs the binoculars from a protesting Meryl. It takes all the fight in him to not proudly cheer aloud at his brother making a move and he gags on his sandwich when he witnesses Nai tuck a lock of hair behind your ear after the kiss. His lips still tell nothing of a sort, still a stiff downward line like they usually were, but the rest of his radiates a sort of fluster when you giggle softly at his antics. Confidence looks good on his brother, Vash thinks.

"Shit, they're on the move!" Wolfwood exclaims after a while of spying. Everyone hastily packs their things and duck as an ignorant you and Nai make your way down the hill and back into his creme white car, where Wolfwood's doesn't trail too far behind. The four of them spend the rest of the evening not watching a romantic movie as planned, but instead fending for the real life soap opera that enacts in front of them, tailing you and Nai as you travel around town and into various shops.

"Who do you think made the first move?" Meryl asks with her eyes peering behind the binoculars, peeking behind the window of the car that sits parallel on the same street a record shop was. "I'm placing bets that it was—oh no, everyone duck!" They shift under the seats when you two walk out with small bags in hand holding sorts of records and CDs, still talking aimlessly and the beat-up grey-black Camry still unnoticed in the background.

"Never really took Knives for a music-type of guy..." Wolfwood mutters. They slowly rise up from their spots and beginning to tail the car again.

Nai's eyes go to flicker to the rearview mirror. "Are they still following us?"

You give a chuckle and glance at the side mirror, where a familiar car of sorts drives only a car behind you. You had realized back at the ice cream parlor that four pairs of watchful eyes had their sights on you and Nai awhile back, but figured it'd be awkward to confront them and ruin the date. Instead, you let them have their fun being pretend James Bonds and went on with the date like usual, attempting to ignore them as much as possible (it was quite hard, however, when you could see Vash and Wolfwood almost start wrestling in the front seats for aux).

You knew that you and Nai had to come clean sooner or later, but he had admitted that he wasn't ready to state publicly that he was in a committed relationship. You still weren't sure whether it was because of his own pride of being frustratingly independent or it was nervousness of entering a new era that was holding him, but you respected his wishes and continued to play the part of a bickering old couple stuck in the bodies of college students like how you were beforehand. You think you were still just as nervous as you were in the first few weeks.

But when Nai's voice echoes the words he promised to you when he officially asked you out with sweaty palms and palpitating heartbeats, a warmth in your chest unfolds in comfort, reminding you to look on the brighter, warmer side of things, even if you weren't too confident.

"I... really want to make this work... so I promise to do all that I can if you'll do the same."

You give a soft smile at his promise he made awhile back to a particular no one. Nai raises a brow at your mysterious grinning.

"What are you smiling about?" he inquires as he leads you to the entrance of your apartment building.

"Oh, nothing..." you shrug off, leaving Nai in the dust of confusion.

Nai narrows his eyes for a bit in suspicion before sighing out aloud. His eyes go to hover on the sight of that dumb Camry again, its shaded windows concealing who its passengers was from view but Nai has seen it too many times to count to know whose car it was and only who could be inside of it. The smoke that wisps from behind the driver's window does nothing more that confirm his suspicions as he picks up the scent of familiar menthol cigarettes that doesn't take him long to guess who it belongs to.

"Do you think we should confront them?" you ask.

Nai shakes his head, "Just let them be for now. I'll deal with them later," he murmurs when he leads you safely into your apartment building. "Text me when you get up to your apartment," he directs before brushing his lips against your cheek as a goodbye.

You nod, affirmative. "I will, thank you for today, too," you praise fondly and give his hand one last squeeze before you let go. You watch as Nai makes his way back to the entrance before you call his name out again.

"Hey, Nai?"

His head turns back to you, raising a brow. You take this time to fully embody him before your own eyes, from the tufts of his hair to each freckle on his body.

Nai before your relationship and Nai in a relationship you think are two vastly different people, and you still can't place your finger on who the real one was. A part of you thinks he's putting up a front in the eye of the public for his own self-preservation, but another part tells you that he's merely just showing a newer, more refined side of him that you've never seen before—a more tender and protective version of Nai that you think only Vash has seen before a handful of times. Sometimes, you pride yourself in confirming that this side of Nai, whether it was real or not, was only shown to you as a sign of trust from his desolate self.

However, there were other times that made you think this honeymoon era might not last and you and him will go back to how things used to be, altering the fate of your relationship for the worst. A petal of guilt would bloom every time that thought crosses your mind due to the unsettling feeling that perhaps you didn't confide in Nai enough, that maybe you just didn't earn enough of him to lock your feelings into place.

But when he waits patiently for your response, blinking slowly, you realize that perhaps it was indeed the latter—a slow exposure to a new side of Nai Saverem—that was yours for the taking.

"I love you," you declare in the foyer, your voice echoing and forcing your message to repeat itself to him for a few seconds.

Your eyes scan for a reaction from him and you earn a flustered, non-verbal one as a response, one that makes his lips thin and makes him thickly swallow and cheeks flush. A grin teeters on the corners of your mouth as you watch him attempt to utter out a reply. It falls short on his tongue, however, and you're only given a nod and wave before Nai (almost hurriedly) exits the building, the tips of his ears pink.

A giggle slips its way out of you as you enter the elevator, fondly thinking on his lasting image. Baby steps, you think.

On the floors below, Nai groans and drags a hand down his face at the memory of your declaration to him. It's more difficult than he thought to ignore the loud thundering of his heartbeat, and he doesn't quite enjoy how it twists his chest so... tightly. He feels foolish for not even gathering up courage to just say a mere "Me too." back to you, but his embarrassment suddenly dissipates upon seeing the same car still in its place. Nai suddenly remembers the last errand he has to take care as his feet carry him to it, the scent of a cigarette growing stronger each step.

"Wolfwood, can you at least take that outside?" Meryl complains as the the black haired man lights up his fourth cigarette of the night. It's a miracle how his car seats don't reek from the stench.

He shakes his head, jutting it towards the building. "No can do, sweetheart. Our cover will be blown if Knives sees m—what the hell?!"

A loud bang rumbles through the car from the roof and the familiar figure of Nai Saverem looms over the car before he ducks his head down and gestures for a nervous Vash to roll down the window. Vash, fear-stricken, obeys his command almost automatically, leaving Nai to stare boredly back at everyone's pale faces. Wolfwood thinks Nai's fist had created an indent on the top of his car, but his words fail him when he goes to stare at Nai's icy face.

"So did you guys have fun spying on us?"

a/n ; this was just kind of a fluff blurb to help me write something that was the next chapter of if the shoe fits because i kind of needed something fresh and new to work on. writer's block? i'm not too sure! i hope you enjoyed either way!

thank you for reading once more and as always, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <;3!

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 1998 #trigun maximum #millions knives #millions knives x reader #knives x reader #nai x reader #knives fluff #trigun fluff #trigun fanfic #trigun x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #meryl stryfe #milly thompson

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