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#his song has helped him grow and become something much more
ghostlychief · 2 days
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OKIE, HI LOVE, I'm so excited. I would like to request Touch-starved! John. John, who didn't realize how it felt to be loved. John, who didn't know how nice it felt to be wanted for being just him. John, who's never had a hug in his life, stiffing when his partner gave him a hug before realizing how comforting it was. John, who doesn't know how to hug his partner back and is scared he'll hurt them.
Okay i love this idea so much. YOUR MIND CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME. Because John would TOTALLY be like this at first. Love touch-starved!John. For some reason the concept of the song Drops of Jupiter popped into my head when i thought of this John. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and hope you're doing well <3
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Drops of Jupiter
John-117/Master Chief x reader
no warnings, just fluff!
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John’s life can really only be measured by statistics, measured quantitatively. From the moment he was found on Eridanus II by Dr. Halsey, his life started to have meaning in the way of numbers. How fast was he growing? How much did he weigh? How much could he lift? Those numbers became one of the most important thing in his life. Besides that, he didn’t have much else to count for. His sole purpose was to train and become the best Spartan II the UNSC has ever seen.
That was until he decided to remove the hormonal pellet, lodged in the center of his lower back, resting in between his spine. Who knew how much power rested in something smaller than a quarter?
This pellet repressed his moods, making sure he was only ever objective, the thought of subjectivity a sin. It also dimmed hormones a normal person experiences in their every day life. Such as, the longing touch of a loved one. Or, the hope to feel accepted by one’s peers. These suppressors were supposed to make the ultimate, elite solider. It was supposed to help aid the Spartan’s on the battle field by making them mission oriented. Act first, ask questions later. As long as the mission was complete and a success, not much else mattered.
At first, John felt disoriented. He felt unbalanced by the new coming of emotions and hormones that spiraled around in his body. There was a crash of emotions washing over his entire body that he forgot he felt before, in a distant past life he wasn’t even sure really existed. It felt rickety, yet exciting. Everything seemed brand new to him. The clouds looked different, the grass brighter, the sun felt warm against his skin. He appreciated the stars that blanketed the sky on a moonless night.
For once, he felt like he completed the orbit around what his life was really about. He finally understood. Life wasn’t just about missions and killing the Covenant. No, there was so much more to it and he finally felt like he touched back home after a long, grueling journey, pulled down by the gravity of the new world he found himself in.
Shortly after his pellet was removed, he met you. You were a linguistic technician that worked closely with many of the people John worked with. You were an expert in Sangheili, which became a hot commodity skill to have in the impending months leading up to the human/Covenant war. John had actually crossed paths with you before, only in passing, but you have met, though not officially.
The day you sat across from him in the cafeteria was Johns’s first encounter with you since feeling different, feeling new. You were already half way seated when you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” John looked up at you, brows furrowed and nodded, but at this point you were already sat down at the table.
“I’d like to pick your brain about something if you don’t mind?” Your sweet voice traveled across to John in the noisy cafeteria and he found himself staring at you for a second before he mentally shook his head. “Sure?” He was still perplexed why you were here sitting with him. Usually no one approached the Spartans unless they were instructed to do so.
“Okay, so I’m in the linguistics department, specifically Sangheili, and I wanted to ask you about the encounters you’ve had with the Sangheili, specifically the higher ranked Sangheili.”
John felt himself slightly smiling at your rambling, but he made sure to hide it from you. He cleared his through them said, “Yeah, I remember you. We met in passing a couple years ago.”
Your eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think you’d remember.” This time John made sure you noticed his smile, “Spartans have eidetic memory.”
“Ah, that’s right. Well, that’s good for all the questions I have for you then.” You then proceeded to talk to John about the Sangheili culture and how it related to their patterns of speech for the next two hours, time slipping away, fast through your fingers.
After that, John always felt a pull towards you, seemingly stuck in your orbit. If neither of you were on duty, you’d usually end up going on long walks. John told you about his past, like what it was like being in the Spartan program, and other adventures, like his mission on the Halos. You never interrupted him, and typically had follow-up questions, always curious to learn more about him.  
The first time you touched him was when he was explaining how he was taken as a child by Dr. Halsey to be entered into the Spartan program. You rested your hand on his bicep, and your fingers slowly rubbed back and forth in a comforting notion. He at first stiffened, but then soon relaxed under your enchanting touch, longing to feel it again after you left his quarters that night.
He started to see more and more of you, and his feelings slowly and quietly developed into something akin to love, though he was never really sure what that word meant. Not until you. He imagined what love might have been, but could never quantify it since love never dealt in numbers or absolutes. It was abstract, confusing, with no concrete answer to it.
Though all of these new emotions felt confusing at times, John never felt confused by you. You simply loved him, not Master Chief or John-117, just John. Slowly but surely, John felt more comfortable with you, emotionally and also physically. Although Spartans are massive in their stature, people still forget how freakishly strong they actually are. Such as, John can easily flip over a Warthog. So, in dealing with you, he was extra cautious.
The first time you wrapped your arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug, he was worried about hugging back, afraid he would crush you, hurt you. He doesn’t remember ever receiving a hug like that, and he wanted to savor it, and feel it over and over again. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he would always pull you into random hugs through out the day, comforted by your beating heart against his.
John’s life, once measured only in numbers, in quantity, now could be measured by so much more. He was lucky, after all.
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locallibrarylover · 10 months
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started thinking about the implications.....!!! (<- tgwdlm is on grims brain)
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xo-cod · 7 months
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someone asked for it but the ask got deleted so here it is again :)
bodyguard!simon x popstar!reader
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absolutely hated you in the beginning. only tolerated you because price had given him this responsibility and because the pay was decent. otherwise he was just a shadow with one worded responses and grunts towards whatever you said.
used to manhandle you whenever you used to walk slow, pulling you along with a tut and a roll of his eyes. you couldn't really see his face since he still wore his balaclava but his face was definitely screwed up behind it
the loud cheering becomes jarring to him the first few times, he's not used to this environment and there's been a few times where his hands have sprung to his gun ready to unload hell onto a poor excited fan who wanted a signature
but the more time he spends with you, the more he warms up around you. he even knew time brought you on base for when he needed to grab something quickly and you ended up meeting his team members
gaz and soap are basically #1 fans fr. the fact that you're friends with their favourite musicians makes them fanboy, your life is so exciting and they always want to know the latest gossip.
simon watches on unamused but secretly feeling a certain way when he sees you speaking happily with his friends
the dances you have with your backup dancers make simon so jealous ‼️‼️ the way your hips sway with theirs, the way their hands are across your waist, the tight outfits, god he has to physically restrain himself from ravishing you
he watches on with his jaw clenched, body rigid as his eyes feast upon your body like treasure. even through the thousands and thousands of people there, you'll always feel the burning of his eyes on you
and when your eyes meet him on a special part of a song, he's literally entranced by you. his breath held and he feels vulnerable, despite the millions of people there. when you're singing to him, it's to him
his praise to you is usually a nod of his head and a "good" but the more you both grow closer, the more you notice how touchy he can become and the more praise that falls from his lips (though it still can sound a little cold only because he feels awkward and doesn't think you need his reassurance that you're doing a good job)
"wear this pretty number f'me" when you both become super close, he likes it when you wear his favourite outfits. he'll hand them to you offering no explanation, only that it looks really good on you. secretly admiring you on stage when it glimmers and shimmers against the light because you look so beautiful
secretly has a few pictures on you on stage where you look so beautiful, he can't help but flick through them at the dead of night when he's alone.
will also secretly heart and save the videos on a private account of all the fan edits of you and him (a cliche but i like them 🤭)
will definitely notice the little skulls you have dangling from your outfit/jewellery and he smiles to himself, it's like an easter egg no one could guess
begged him to make an insta and after much reluctance and pleading he finally did.
he gained followers very quickly, his dm's full of people wanting to thirst over him to his workout routine
but you're the only one he follows <3
yes, he's also fallen victim to stalking your page and looking at old boyfriend with a smug and annoyed look
you got papped one time with the initials SR♡ on your necklace and it went crazy popular. everyone trying to figure who the mystery person was.
but simon looks on in pride, he might be called ghost to everyone else but between you both he'll always be your simon riley. a secret no one could know <3
cue soap and gaz screeching at the paparazzi pictures, having called on the whole thing when ghost was assigned to you in the first place
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nwndrlndn · 10 months
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Boyfriend
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pairing : modern!anakin skywalker x fem!reader | wc : 3.4k  | 18+MINORS DNI
summary : A boring night unravels into something new during a movie night with your roommate’s ex. 
warnings : oral ( fem receiving ), semi public sex ( theyre in a living room ), big dick ani, suggested size difference, use of the phrase “my little champ,” unprotected sex, ani is weird
a/n : yes i do picture modern anakin as an angsty metalhead, covered in tatts and piercings. also song was partially inspired by boyfriend by ashlee simpson
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In your apartment, there was a natural order to things: Padmé would things first, then Sabé, then you. Usually this worked in your favor with chores and responsibilities, but with other things, it didn’t. Prime example, Anakin Skywalker. When you met him at your college orientation, you both hit it off and started hanging out. At the time, he was still an awkward guy, with honey blond hair and an interest in becoming a pilot. But he already knew Padmé and asked her out halfway through the year and your time together dwindled. Even though you wished it was you with Anakin, you grew to accept him as Padmé’s boyfriend and not someone for you.
Anakin visited your apartment daily. At movie nights with Obi-Wan and the other girls in your apartment, Anakin’s usual spot was sandwiched between you and Padmé. He would take Padmé and Artoo on walks when it was your turn to walk him and fix your car at a discount whenever you had an issue. You saw him turn from a big eyed, chatty extrovert to his his more tired and reserved self, you even sat through his first tattoo with Padmé and Obi-Wan. Slowly, you felt like you had buried your crush and started seeing him as more of a brother, a constant figure in your life over the three years they were together. 
Thats why it was a shock when she dumped him last year. You thought it it would never happen, but when it did, you thought it would change everything. That was until you got home from work the next day to find him splayed out on your couch with Artoo on his chest as they both napped. Over the past year, Anakin and Padmé moved on and started seeing new people and having flings, but you couldn’t help the budding feelings of hope, coming back from you. Maybe you’re getting another chance.
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Its late on a Friday and you had no plans. Well, scratch that, you had options, you just spent too long in bed to really decide. As you ready a bowl of cereal for yourself – at what 9:28 pm – you hear the front door to your loft apartment open. Without looking, you knew it was Anakin. He was as much a part of the house as Sabé and Padme’s nightly ritual of deciding what outfits they would wear the next day or Artoo’s zoomies whenever a guest comes over. As you stand at the kitchen, you think about all the times you walked in on Padmé and Anakin attempting to cook, more like Anakin teaching her how to cook because she never watched her personal chefs cook growing up.
You turn to face him and you notice Anakin is in a gray hoodie stained from his part time job at a mechanic shop and he still had his uniform shirt on. He slides his hoodie off and your eyes drift to the tattoos he has all over his neck and arms, you remember one summer a couple of years ago, when he was still finding ways to fill the gaps on his chest and back and you spent hours talking about it at Padme’s lakehouse. You smile at the memory, and by the time you come back to earth, Anakin is already sitting on the couch and smiling as he pets Artoo. His hair is a mess (as usual), the bags under his eyes are still there, and you notice a small bag at his side. Anakin’s presence was so normal to you that you forgot for a moment that you're still in a tank top and underwear. 
“Hey Ani, is that a redbull or a monster?” You ask, sitting on the edge of the couch as you munch away at your cereal. You can hear the drums and guitar from whatever metal song he was listening to on his headphones as it rests on his shoulders.
“Neither, its reign.” Anakin answers before he yawns, he’s still focused on petting Artoo until he looks up and sees you. At first his tired gaze passes over you and when he notices your outfit, his eyes narrow a bit, drinking in your appearance. “Long shift.”
“I get it.” You say with a smile before you remember the note Padmé left on the fridge. “Hold on, you left a drink over last time.” You say, a smile growing on your face as you set down your bowl and walk back to the kitchen. As you do, Anakin’s eyes wander, tracing your chest as you lean forward, the curve of your back as you turn, then slowly dragging his eyes over your ass and legs as you walk back. For a moment, he lets his mind wander, tugging his lip between his teeth and tonguing at his lip ring.
“Oh really, thank you.” Anakin’s eyes widen a bit in surprise as you pull it out from the fridge and he gets up to meet you by the fridge. When he reaches out to take the beverage from you, he lets my hand linger on yours a bit longer than necessary for it to have been an accident and his smile turns a bit teasing.
“So, did Padmé invite you over?” You ask as you both walk back to the living room and to your original seats. 
Anakin laughs a bit nervously at the question before he answers slowly, “No actually, I dropped by just to see you.” He cracks open the drink you gave him, forgetting momentarily of the drink he brought with him. “Is that an issue.” He says it more like a statement than a question, because he already knew you didn't mind.
“No, of course not.” You answer quickly, maybe too quickly, watching as his lips curl around the can he’s drinking from, his lip ring making a soft clink against the aluminum. He lets out a groan as he finishes his sip and leans back, spreading his legs and settling into the couch. Your eyes are caught on him and you don’t even pretend to hide it. 
Once you snap back, you stand up. “Let me put on some real pants, okay? I don’t think you came to see me in my panties.” 
Anakin smirks and looks you up and down, letting out a small chuckle. “Yeah that might me a bit of a good idea” He makes a show of looking the rest of your body up and down again as you start to walk to your room, biting his lip. But thats exactly what he wanted, he wanted to slide that tank top over your head and let his tongue explore its way down, down your neck, over your chest a-
“Don’t go changing into anything too fancy…” He adds, taking himself out of his reverie.
“Don't worry.” You say, turning your head so he wont see you blush, waving him off as you go into your room and slide on some baggy pajama pants. You could hardly remember where you got them from, an ex maybe? As you take a moment to check yourself over, you call out to him “Wanna watch a movie or something?”
“Movie sounds great. What do you wanna watch?” He calls back to you, his hands squeezing at some random stress ball trying to resist the temptation to just sneak into your room after you. Once he sees Padmé’s contact info on it, he throws it across the room, and starts to pull up Netflix. As he scrolls through the selection a bit, a small smile plays at the corner of his lips when he sees a movie you like, his finger hovering over the play button. 
He turns to look to your room to try to see if he can catch you through your door, or if you’re about to walk back out. “Found one…”
“Good! Just gimmie one second.” You murmur as you come out of your room, smoothing your hair.
His eyes linger on your neck for a moment, before clearing his throat. “Right! Here we go…” He clicks play on the movie and sit down in the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Come sit with me.” He whispers, giving you a charming smile and patting the seat next to him. And you take your seat next to him, resting your head on his chest as he puts an arm around your shoulders, getting closer still.
As the movie starts, some blonde is running from the killer and you both laugh. After a moment, you speak up, “Thanks for coming over. You know, if you didn’t come by, I was probably gonna send a message to this guy I’ve been talking to.”
He raises an eyebrow, one of his hands coming to rest on your waist. “Oh? Anyone I know?” As he is talking, he rests his chin on your head, almost touching you but stopping himself.
“Probably not, he’s a biology major.”
He puts an arm around your shoulders, while the hand that rested against your arm moves to rest on your stomach. “Oh yeah? You like a little brain with your men? I get it. So many girls I’ve seen on campus are so… air-headed.” He smiles before he adds, “But you definitely aren’t one of them.”
“I thought you liked airheads.” You tease, looking up at him with a smile. 
“A little. But I like a girl who can keep up with me intellectually, someone who won’t be so predictable. Someone who has drive and passion. Does that make you a little less predictable?” He runs his hand gently down your side, smiling.
“Definitely… Do you want a blanket? Pillow? Anything?”
“You’d do all that for me?” He scoots a little closer, letting his hand slide down to your thigh “I don’t wanna be a hassle…”
“I’m the host. I’m being nice to my guest, who is basically a squatter who doesn’t pay any rent.” You mutter and he laughs a bit at your words.
One of Anakin’s eyebrows raises suggestively “Well, in that case, it is rather cold in here…” He whispers as he moves his hand up your leg a little further. His eyes rest on a throw blanket on the other end of the couch. “And that blanket looks so very warm and cuddly…”
“Alright.” You whisper back with a smile, reaching over for the blanket that Anakin was eying and your shirt rides up a bit, and once he notices your shirt riding up, and his eyes linger there for a moment before he bites his lip.
“Here, let me just..” He whispers, letting his hand stay on your thigh while his other hand reaches up to your shirt, pulling it down a bit again, his eyes drifting back down to your legs. “Sorry, got a little too loose there.” 
You thank him and settle back down, covering both of you with the blanket and Anakin doesn’t bother trying to hide his staring this time. As you relax, you feel his hand slowly make its way up your thigh and slide behind, resting just under your ass. You fan feel your heartbeat in your throat as you wonder if its harmless, but as you look from the TV to Anakin, you see he’s unbothered and his hand still resting on your leg. 
As the movie continues, his hands wander. Anakin’s warm, callused hands absently rubbing the smooth skin of your thighs. When he notices you’re focused on the movie, he leans in near your ear and whispers, “Yeah? Well let me tell you something, your thighs are so soft. So, smooth.”
He moves a little closer, getting comfortable, and kisses you on the neck “And I know you have nice smooth skin too.”
You can feel your face heat up and Anakin presses his lips to your pulse point, breathing in your scent as he feels your racing heartbeat. He whispers softly to you “Would you show me some of it?”
You hesitate for a moment, your breaths quick as you try to focus on the movie again before you answer. “You can feel if you want. I trust you.” Your eyes are still focused on the movie as Anakin starts to slowly slide his hands up your arms, to your neck, to your shoulders. Slowly, he moves over your back, his hands moving down, caressing your lower back. He moves his hands up to the hem of your shirt, and slowly starts to lift, looking at you, waiting to see if you had any objections.
Your breath hitches and you shut your eyes for a moment, before you lift your arms and he slides your tanktop off. After a moment, he moved his hands back to your waist, and started to caress your skin, his eyes moving up at yours again, waiting to see your reaction before he dips his head, lips grazing against your sternum. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
The movie is quickly forgotten as he sucks hickies up and down your abdomen, littering your neck, before he leans in and pulls you in for a desperate kiss and you meet him with enthusiasm. As your tongues meet, you can still taste the taurine on him and it feels right, so accurate to Anakin. As he deepens the kiss, he slides you down against the couch and makes quick work of slipping down your pajamas and you let out a soft gasp as his hands move downward, taking a minute to kneed at your hips before he adjusts himself until his lips are lined up with your core. You lean back on your elbows to make eye contact with him and he lick a stripe up your core, nose bumping against your clit, making you jolt slightly. 
Just as soon as your legs start to move, Anakin’s hands are on your thighs and holding them open. “I got you, pretty girl, just relax.” He murmurs, his words sending a wave of heat from your head to your center. His eyes stay on yours as his tongue meets your clit and slowly introduce a finger to your hole. You moan and reach out and tug at his shaggy hair, earning you faster licks and a second finger. He moves away from your clit to kiss at your mound, sucking in a few more hickeys.
“What was the name of the guy you were gonna call?” He whispers, slowing his pace and making you whine. “I know a few bio majors… Is it Dimitre? Colaldo? Can’t be Brenjami, he’s not good enough for you.” Anakin punctions each name with a harder thrust of his fingers into your core and drawing out moans from your lips.
“How do you know who’s good enough for me?”
“You need someone who knows you like I do.” He carefully adds in a third finger, shushing you before you can whine from the pain by kissing you again. His skillful lips moving against yours as his fingers move in you, curling and hitting you in just the right spot. As you moan into the kiss, Anakin moves away from your lips to kiss at your neck. “Someone wants to take you where you want to go and wants what you want.” 
You feel a familiar pressure start to built up and Anakin’s pace doesn’t slow down but he leans in to your ear, nipping at your earlobe. “I know the perfect guy for you.” He whispers, his voice raspy from holding himself back.
“Are you gonna say you?” You pant out, and you can feel his smile and his lip ring as the cool metal drags against your ear.
“Winner winner.” He says with a smirk, then picks up the pace of his fingers as you gasp, moaning out before you finally cum. He keeps moving his fingers as he leans to your cheek and sucks a hickey into your cheek. You shut your eyes as you catch your breath, one of your hands clasped around his to try and stop him from overstimulating you. “I want everyone to see it. Want every one to know that I gave it to you. Will you tell them?” 
“What about Padmé?” You blurt out, feeling the heat rush to your face and Anakin chuckles.
“Fuck Padmé. Why are you thinking about her when you could’ve been focusing on how full I’m gonna stuff you?” He murmurs, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean. “Doesn’t matter.” Anakin rolls his eyes before he tweaks your cheek. “Just focus on the moment, alright?” 
He tugs his shirt over his head and your eyes trace his chest and smile where you see he got his friends named tattooed. As you reach forward and touch your name, resting just above his belly button, he doesn’t stop you, focusing on kicking off his socks and shoes and undoing his jeans. “What?” He mumbles, looking to where you're touching and smiles. “Forget about it? I used it for target practice, you know, some nights when all its just me and my right hand, I had a game where I-”
“Not sexy. Not at all.” Anakin laughs and you watch as his face crinkles and you cant help but smile back at him. As he calms down, he kicks off his jeans and settles between your legs again. As soon he frees his cock, you take a breath as you look up at his face, all. Wordlessly, he senses your discomfort and leans over, giving you a quick kiss before he lines himself with your hole with one hand, the other rubbing at your thigh slowly to comfort you. “You got this, you’re my little champ, right?” 
He slowly starts to slide his tip in, and hunches over you, nuzzling his head into your neck. As he continues to slide into you, he lets out a groan, muffling himself with your neck. As he keeps moving, you whine and try to pull away but he holds your hips, pausing for a moment. “You’ve got it, just a little more, okay? You can handle it.” His words send another wave of arousal through you and your nails dig into his back for support.
You nod and shut your eyes but he doesn’t move, instead Anakin nuzzles against your cheek and moves your hair out of your face, murmuring “No rush. Just tell me when you’re ready.” His words warm your heart and you give him the “go-ahead” after another few minutes, he starts to finish sliding himself into you, his thumbs tracing your hip bones. He lets out a grunt once he’s fully in you, and you hold his hips still, looking up at him. “See, you made it fit. Fucking perfect, you’re so good.” He murmurs, tracing your hip bones as he starts making light thrusts and your nails drag down his back. 
Your moans and his groans fill the room as he starts to pick up speed. Anakin’s grip on your hips are hard enough to bruise and his lips linger near your ear, quietly whispering for you to remember to breathe, as he continues to jackhammer into you. His thumb circling your clit “Good fucking girl.” He groans, his lips locking around one of your nipples, and one of his hands come up to tweak the other. 
You can see the red marks forming on his back from your nails as you try to hold onto him from support. “Gonna let me do this again?” You pant out a few times before you catch your breath and whine out a strained yes. He smirks and his lips move to your other nipple, licking and sucking at it. “You're gonna want this again?” 
You nod, shutting your eyes as you hug his neck, you can feel him start to throb inside you and his hips stuttering. “Yes, Ani. We’re gonna do this again.” You desperately grind against him, feeling your coming release.
“Good girl, I knew you’d get the words out. Now let go.” He groans out, his thumb picking up speed and you come with a loud moan and after a few more thrusts, you feel Anakin fill you up and then he flattens out on top of you, shutting his eyes and pretending to sleep.
“Ani, you're crushing me.” You whine, pushing at his shoulders but he doesn't budge, his deadweight holding you in place.
“You’re a champ. Just stay still for a few minutes. Then we can go shower and get our round two.” He murmurs, his breath hitting your cheek and a sleepy smile lines his face. You can’t help but smile and you shut your eyes for a moment, one hand in his hair and the other rubbing his back.
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cherubfae · 2 months
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Alastor's Lament || Jack Skellington!Alastor x Sally!AFAB!Reader
What if all this power as an Overlord has grown tiring for Alastor? Sure, he likes it. But can he even hope to yearn for something different? Could helping the hotel be his missing piece? Could you?
tags: gn!afab!reader, half-ragdoll!sinner!reader, Jack Skellington!Alastor, hurt/comfort, loneliness, implied abuse, blood/gore, protective!Alastor, friends to lovers
a/n: Tim Burton still has some of my favorite films and I'm also going to be working on a Victoria/Victor Al x afab!reader, so please look forward to that! ^~^ Sally's Song belongs to Disney!
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From his little corner of Hell, Alastor could see the pale white moon embedded in the red sea sky from his radio tower. On a rare night where the moon could be seen so clearly, it left a deep sense of melancholy within his chest; even his dead heart ached.
All of his years as an Overlord seemed to drain him. Bartering souls had been his greatest pleasure, and sure, he was rather powerful but now that he had all this power; what was it worth to keep gaining? He was already one of the most feared. He sought out a new career path, to become Hazbin's hotelier to rehabilitate demons! It gave him a spark of interest that had been lost in him for centuries. Everything came easy to Alastor. Everything except you.
What a simply fascinating creature you were! Able to unstitch your limbs and sew them back together good as new! He considered you one of his dearest friends, a lovely thought always lingering in the back of his mind. Yet time and time again you seemed to slip away into the night before he could say anything, or even thank you for the lovely vintage wine you'd gifted him. Like a whisper in the dark, you had disappeared.
Not even Rosie had seen you. Which was growing more and more worrisome with the more the hours ticked on by. Where could you have gone? Were you alright? It was an uncommonly chilly night in Hell, thanks to an ice demon casting a spell over the lands as of recent. It was certainly no weather to be out and about in if one could help it.
The Radio Demon was aware of the unsavory living conditions you kept living with your adopted father and self-appointed 'creator' (which was wholly untrue), Dr. Twisttike, having invited you to live at the Hazbin Hotel. Even Charlie, Princess of Hell, had cordially invited you but the two were unaware of just how tightly you were bound to an over- controlling demon. One who claimed that he made you, therefore you were his.
Shaking his head, Alastor fretted over his blueprints for a new radio tower design, yet that inescapable feeling of dread continued to gnaw at his bones like a starved dog. He runs his hand over his face, down the red pinstriped suit, stopping to adjust his black buck shaped bowtie. Its glimmering red eyes blinked. This will simply not do. He needed to find you.
Hidden away, locked inside of your 'room' once more by the demon who held your chain so tightly, you weep silently to yourself. "And will he see how much he means to me?"
"Will you stop that dreadful singing?" Dr. Twisttike hissed, grasping your glowing pale blue chain and yanking you harshly. You fall to your knees, scraping your hands against the dirty concrete. Red abrasions collected on your palms, threatening to break the surface of your skin. "Your lover boy, Alastor, won't be coming for you, dear. You think you can keep up with a demon such as him? Look at yourself. You can't even keep your stitches together. Next time I make a ragdoll, I'll make one out of proper cloth and not flesh like you. All you do is cry and bleed." Clicking his tongue, he leaves you crying on the cold ground.
With your knees tucked to your chest, you sigh. That brute of a man--demon, oftentimes left you more undone than anything else did. Constantly pulling apart your stitches and not letting you put yourself back together. He almost let you catch fire a few weeks ago. Sure, none of this could kill you. But that didn't mean that it doesn't hurt when it happens.
Standing to look out your window, you hum to yourself. You could see the peak of Alastor's radio tower from here, the full moon rising behind like a great beacon. An immense sense of longing filled your body, you hoped he was looking at the same moon and feeling the same way as you. With a gasp, you slip through the partially opened gap and allow yourself to fall to the cobblestone. More abrasions and bruises from, your blood coagulating from your missing limbs.
Plucking out a needle from behind your ear, you begin to sew yourself back together, hissing softly around a particular tender area. Standing on rather wobbly feet at first until you break out into a sprint before your Overlord can know you've left. Your other arm was left behind, but you couldn't be bothered with that now. You needed to get away, heading towards the highest hill of town, near Alastor's tower.
Alastor frantically searches around town. There's still no sign of you anywhere. Dread continues to eat away at him, until he finds himself standing outside the gates of your home. The dread boils away into anger. Your sweet scent lingers in the air mixed with the scent of blood and fear. You were hurt. Bleeding. He wills himself to calm down, his claws bending through metal gates as he pushes them open with brute force.
"Ah, Alastor! Welcome, welcome, come in my dear boy!" Dr. Twisttike's serpentine tail swishes behind him, allowing the tall redhead into the cramped and dingey house.
Even for Hell's standards, the old and decrepit house was absolutely deplorable. A sulfuric musty smell hung in the air, damp with black mold and cobwebs clinging to every viable rafter.
Tension wafted through the air, Alastor's scarlet eyes turning into radio dials. In an instant, he's turned into his full demon form, mouth sewn by green stitches. A glowing green chain wraps taught around Dr. Twisttike, sending him to the ground with a harsh thud.
"Where are they?" Alastor's neck cracks at an ungodly angle, the echo of screams surrounding him. When Twisttike fails to speak, Alastor yanks the chain harshly, his heeled shoe slamming down onto the demon's claw, snapping it clean off. Black inky blood oozes from the putrid wound. "I won't ask again, good man. Where are they?"
Dr. Twisttike rasps, "Upstairs! Their bedroom! Please, stop!" Alastor snaps his fingers, the demon's limbs and extremities are bound by glowing green rope.
Alastor thunders up the spiral staircase. "My dearest! Are you here?" His eyes are frantic, wild. His ears stand alert, waiting for any sign of your lovely voice calling out to him. The only answer he receives is a perplexing silence. He rounds the corner to enter your door lies and snarls. "A cell? You keep my darling in a goddamned cell?"
Blowing the door off the hinges, Alastor surveys the small, cramped room. There's a bare bed with a single flimsy blanket and ragged old pillow. Small splatters of bloodstains stain those sheets. A tiny dresser to the right of the bed holding a single analog clock that seems to have stopped working long ago. The walls are bare of any color and character, with peeling paint and black mold scuttled around the corners of the ceiling like soot sprites. Everything he knows that you love and adore does not reflect in your room. There was no personalization, there was no you. It's uncomfortably damp. It was nothing short of a miracle that you weren't sick.
"You pitiful creature, keeping my beloved in such conditions. Why I should--," Alastor's sentence does in the back of his throat, noticing something half-hanging out the window. A dismembered arm, the thread of your stitches caught on a rusty nail. Carefully expecting it, he gently traces the stitch marks. "Hmm, it appears I have no more use for you, Dr. Twisttike."
A sickening squelch echoes throughout the house as Dr. Twisttike's body splatters all across the walls. Alastor's slithering tentacle removes itself from the corpse, shaking off the blood before retreating into his back. There isn't much left of the poor fool other than the remains of his guts and brain matter. Alastor carefully dabs his cheek free of blood, holding your severed arm close to his chest. He exits, form swallowed by darkness and shadow. Behind him, the home ignites into hellish green flames.
It did not take long for Alastor to find you. You nearly took his breath away. Your gaze is so beautiful and forlorn, sitting on a hill with the clearest view of the large full moon. The silver light casts delicate shadows against your skin as you hum a soft song to yourself. What a true, ethereal beauty you are.
"My dearest friend," rumbles Alastor, his tone a delicate purr. You stand in surprise, which quickly melts into a delicate smile. "If you don't mind, I'd like to join you by your side. Where we can gaze into the stars," Alastor gently reattached your arm, green magic carefully sewing it back on you.
"And sit together."
"Now and forever."
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"For it as plain as anyone could see, we're simply meant to be." With a gentle embrace, Alastor presses his lips to yours, tugging you into his arms and off the chilly ground.
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hyukalyptus · 5 months
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a coincidence — rockstar!yeonjun x fem!reader
cw. rockstar!yeonjun x audiencemember!reader, chubby!reader implied, fem!reader, mentions of alcohol, oral (m. receiving), sex (condoms mentioned <3), roleplaying(?), orgasm denial, lmk if there's more. notes. this is part of @napofamoon's growing pain rock band!au collaboration :D thank you @nightlyawnzz for being a beta reader :3 and thank you angie for that one line of dialogue (didn't know if you wanted to like not be tagged lol), not super well edited, smut under cut <3 wc. 2.8K
Who is that? Yeonjun’s seen hundreds—thousands—of pretty girls at his concerts. But no one’s ever truly made an impression. Every once in a while, there’d be one that barely stuck out from the crowd, but nothing ever stuck. After a while, the crowds started getting blurry. Has performing become a bit boring for him? Maybe. There wasn’t a spark anymore. No reason to perform. 
But you…you immediately caught his eye. A bright star in a sea of dull strangers—smiling, drinking, dancing to the music, having a blast. You looked fun, exciting, flirty. And he wanted—needed—to get to know you. But first, he needed to get your attention. 
He’s cool, casual with his bass; he’s a natural. The way he moves with the music, pouty lips singing under his breath along with the frontman, the stage lights sparkling in his eyes—it didn’t take much focus for him to nail every song. 
So he decided to have a bit of fun tonight. Moving a bit more, putting on a bit more of a show than usual, getting closer to the edge of the stage without being too obvious. All to get your attention. So why won’t you look at him? Just a bit closer and maybe…
Bingo. 
You’ve locked eyes and there’s that something he’s been looking for. Something he’s been looking for for a while. That spark. That reason to put on a bit of a show. 
And you could tell. You were just as into it as he was. 
Watching his every move—flirting without crossing a line, giving him seductive looks, dancing in his direction. It was fun. It was thrilling. That unspoken desire between two strangers—and one of them admires the other before they’ve even met? How scandalous, hm? The tension grew and grew until—
“Thank you everyone; good night!”
But…what do you do now? How could he find you later? Oh, why didn’t he slip the security guard his number to give to you? Where are you? No, no, no, don’t leave. 
There was nothing he could do; the lights were dim, the curtain was drawn, the crowd was spilling out the front door. You never left his mind, though. Not when he put his bass in its case, not when he zipped his hoodie up to leave, not when he plopped down on his hotel bed, never. 
Desperately trying to get you off his mind, he heads down to the hotel bar. Oh, how pathetic is this? A world-famous rock star sitting alone at a hotel’s bar sipping a whiskey feeling sorry for himself? Over what? Some girl? 
Please don’t sit there…he begs silently watching a strange figure take the seat in the bar stool next to him. Despite the need for alone time, he couldn’t help but glance over at the sound of your—
“Just a vodka soda, please.” 
Oh, shit. It’s you. What does he do? Why are his hands so sweaty? When did he turn into such a loser? Getting this worked up over a girl. He needs to get your attention again, but he doesn't want to come off too pushy. You’re here alone too and maybe you wanna keep it that way. 
Fuck it. 
He clears his throat, cooly-maybe-not-so-cooly saying, “I saw you in the audience.” Just as you planned. Well, sort of. You didn’t mean to run into him. Glancing across the room at the hotel you were staying in to see that hot bassist sitting alone at the bar was pure luck. 
But you need to keep it cool. Don’t be too…weird. Just a simple glance and gentle nod is enough. 
“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, knowing your answer. He could see your desire just as much as you could see his, but you weren’t gonna give in just yet. You nod again, adding a quiet hum. “Are you from around here or…?” Should he move a bit closer? Sure. Should he brush your knee with his fingertips? Why not? Oh, they give you goosebumps. You don’t pull away or even flinch. You’re welcoming this. 
“No, I’m here on business. That’s why I’m, you know, at a hotel right now.”
“Right.” He pauses, like he has to think of the next thing to say, “I’m Yeonjun, by the way. But you already knew that.”
“And what makes you think that?”
“No reason,” he snarks. “Just that you bought a ticket to my show.”
“As if,” you roll your eyes. “I was bored and the show was right down the street.” Lie. All of this was lies. Of course you were a fan. Both of you knew that. 
“So you got front-row seats from a scalper then?”
Now it’s time for some fun. Turning toward him, you introduce yourself, face inching closer and closer, his hand sneaking up higher on your thigh, your heartbeat getting faster with each millimeter. You maintain your confidence best you know how, but you must admit, he’s intimidating. Is it that way he unapologetically stares at your body? The way he’s flirting with a fan after a show? The way his lips look like they’d perfectly wrap around your—
“Do you always find fans to flirt with after the show?” 
“No. Never,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But you’re so…” he tucks some fallen hair behind your ear, eyes roaming your face, “gorgeous. I haven’t stopped thinking about you in the audience. Then boom, here you are at my hotel’s bar. Must be fate.”
“Or a coincidence.” 
Both resorting to a shrug, there’s tension in the air like you’ve never felt. It’s excruciating. He’s leaning closer to you, oh, what was he about to say?
“I saw you watching me,” he whispers right against your ear—close enough to feel his breath. Fuck, he’s good. This is gonna be fun. And you’re gonna be a brat. At least for a little. 
“I was watching all five of you,” you say, adding an annoying eye roll for good measure. 
“Nope,” he says, sitting back and smiling like he knows a secret of yours. Which he may. “Only me.” 
“So what if I was?” You narrow your eyes at him. You weren’t gonna break eye contact now. You can’t. But he doesn’t expect you to keep it. He expects you to cower and blush like everyone always does. But you don’t. And he likes that. “I’m waiting.”
“Makes me wonder what else you wanna watch me do is all.”
“Like what?” 
“I dunno,” he chuckles. “You tell me. You were the one that couldn’t stop staring at me.”
That jerk. That stupid fucking jerk. Looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you glance down at his lips—side note: jesus fucking christ they look delicious but that’s beside the point right now—and lean in as close as you can without touching him. Parting his own lips, he tilts his head just barely and closes his eyes. 
“Aw, you’re so cute.” You giggle. “You thought I was gonna kiss you?”
While you’re watching him retreat, defeated at his own game, he runs his fingers through his messy black hair. 
“So you think I’m cute?” 
Let’s give in now. “No.” You stand, taking a deep breath and walk behind him, sliding your hands down his chest, bending to meet his ear to whisper, “I think you’re fucking sexy.” 
Goosebumps—but this time, they’re on him. Has anyone ever done this to him before? Let’s take it one step further. You bite his ear lobe gently and he sighs, your name falling out of his lips breathlessly. 
“Hm?”
“Come upstairs with me,” he whispers. 
Another step further. Sliding your hand up the back of his neck, you grip some of his hair, tugging it harshly, his eyes widening as he hisses. 
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Will you come upstairs with me? Please.”
Turning him around in his barstool, you stand between his legs, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I thought you’d never ask.” 
It was all a blur as he took you upstairs—heading straight for the elevator, pushing you against the wall to finally crash his lips into yours, hands roaming your body trying to decide what part of it to grab onto. The ding of the elevator snaps you out of it before stumbling down the hallway to his room. 
When he finally gets the door open and the door slams behind you, he’s gentler, like he wants to take his time with you. But you don’t. You drag him toward the bed and push him to the mattress to straddle his hips. Wrapping his hands around your waist, his hands slip under the skirt of your dress to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. 
Lifting off him, you lift your dress over your head as he eyes your pretty white lace lingerie while he smirks to himself. Fuck, he looks hot when he bites his lip like that. And, god, you need his shirt off. Tugging at it, you rock your hips back and forth to shimmy it off while he stays laying down. Hands on bodies, breath heavy, lips on each other’s…god, this was fun. 
He flips you to your back, pressing his lips to your chest, trailing kisses over your collarbone. Pushing your face to the side to access your neck, he covers it in sloppy, wet kisses. 
Since when was your bra so uncomfortable? And since when was it such a cock blocker? With that out of the way, his lips find your nipples, sucking harshly, but licking them to soothe the stings. Tugging at the waistband of his joggers, you can’t stop begging him to fuck you. 
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he says, mimicking your tone from earlier.
“Please, Yeonjun—” you gasp at the feeling of his finger gliding over your clit slowly—slower than anyone’s ever touched you before. But it’s amazing. “Will you please fuck me?” 
“Not yet,” he whispers. Standing to pull his pants and boxers down in one motion, he looks over your body. Oh, what was he gonna do with you and everything your body has to offer? Put you on your knees so he can cum all over your full tits? Fuck you from behind so he can see your ass jiggle? Fuck you in missionary so he can see your tits and tummy jiggle while he squeezes your thighs? There’s too many options to pick from.
But before he can make the decision, you crawl over to the foot of the bed, making a big show of it before reaching for his hips. Wrapping your hands around his hips to squeeze his ass, you pull him closer, kissing the tip of his cock. You were going to be the death of him. But you haven’t even tasted him yet. Glancing up at him through your eyelashes, you finally sink down on him completely. 
And fuck do you feel good. 
Fingers fumbling through your hair as he tries to steady himself, his head falls back to let out the most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard from a man. He whispers your name. 
“What?” You look at him, your lips forming a pout while you wait for an answer. He responds with a simple eyebrow raise. “You said my name,” you say matter-of-factly. “What is it?”
“Don’t tease me.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” 
Hooking his hands behind your knees, he pulls to flip you on your back while you let out a yelp. He boxes you in with his elbows, dragging his teeth over one of your nipples while you grip his hair, back arching to meet his mouth. He covers you in kisses. You don’t think anyone’s ever kissed you this much. Nothing will ever be enough after this. 
As he makes his way down, your legs fall over his shoulders, showering your thick thighs with kisses. Using his mouth to put the smallest amount of pressure on your clit over your thong, he makes you whine and involuntarily grind against his chin, trying to relieve any tension. But he’s not giving in either. Backing away, he chuckles at you. That jerk. Why does he have to be such a jerk?
“Don’t do that to me,” you say. Eyes dark, he takes the waistband of your thong between his teeth, pulling them down slowly, letting them drag over your skin. Kneeling between your thighs, he keeps that spine-tingling eye contact as he rubs his tip over your center. That sends a jolt through your body, letting your brain finally catch up with your body. 
“Will you wear a condom?”
Nodding, he quickly rustles through his suitcase messily splayed across the floor. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he starts to roll it down himself, which is a glorious sight. And he can tell the effect it has on you. You smirk, glancing up at his eyes—eyes that are sparkling back at you. 
“Eyes on my cock, baby.”
Fine by you. Sliding it down so slowly, you’re entranced. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 
One hand pressing on your hip, the other lining himself up with your pussy, he pushes himself inside you, your eyes rolling back and he groans in your ear. Short shallow breaths grace your skin as he thrusts fast and hard, just like you wanted. 
Bodies rocking together, he stares at your tits bouncing with his movements. Your nails start dragging down his back, but he quickly pulls out to turn you over, lifting you by your hips to bring you on all fours, your ass on full display. He spanks you, hard enough that your cheek will be pink tomorrow morning. 
Pressing on your lower back to deepen the arch, he thrusts into you again. With your face squished against the mattress, his hands dig into the fat of your hips to hold you in place. The fire in your stomach roars, legs trembling, muscles weak. He yanks you up by your hair—you were hoping he’d do that—to press your back to his chest, letting you feel how heavy he's breathing. 
“Don’t cum yet,” he says.
“Who said I was close?”
That evil laugh makes your eyes roll. “I can feel it.” Well, you can’t really argue with that. He was right. “Don’t.”
“You really like telling me what to do, huh?”
He snakes his hand in front of you to circle your clit, turning your whines to whimpers, desperately fighting the urge to let yourself go. What would happen if you did let yourself cum, though? It might be exciting to find out, hm? But being told what to do and when is just as exciting.
Grabbing his arm, your nails dig into his skin. He releases your hair, pushing you to the mattress roughly, face pressed against the mattress. Fists full of bed sheets, his hands spread across your ass, skin spilling through his fingers. 
It’s getting increasingly difficult to hold it together—the only thing letting you is knowing how good you must be making him feel if he’s making noises like that. 
“Yeonjun,” you gasp, his speed increasing. “Please.” The way he grunts tells you he’s close too, but he doesn’t plan on holding back. Pull my hair again, pull my hair again, pull my hair again, you keep thinking to yourself. And, oh, did you say that out loud? Because he pulls your hair again, finding an even deeper spot inside if you, the feeling spreading to your toes. 
“Please, Yeonjun—” you yelp. “Please let me cum.”
He groans again, your name falling out of his lips before adding, “Cum for me.”
Your loud whimpers are muffled by the pillow you’ve shoved your face into, the fire in your stomach roaring louder and louder until—
Fuck…
God, this is good. Your orgasm explodes inside you, fireworks going off in all directions, filling every nook and cranny of your body. Praising you through your orgasm, he encourages you to cum hard around him, reminding you of how good your pussy feels around his cock. 
Your body relaxes, but his doesn’t. He thrusts deeper inside of you, desperate to reach his own climax.
“Fuck—” he grunts, spanking you again. He loves seeing you jiggle like that. Reaching in front of you, he massages your tits, squeezing to get a firm grip. 
His breath hitches, his thrusts getting sloppy as he twitches inside you, groaning through his climax.
Collapsing on top of you, he catches his breath, chest rushing and falling against your back. Rolling off you to plop onto the mattress, he turns to look at your face while there’s a stillness in the air. 
“...so you’re a fan now?” 
“Haven’t I always been?”
Chuckling, his face turns to the ceiling, running his fingers through his hair, resting his arms above his head. As you make eye contact, both of you burst out laughing—
“I didn’t think you’d like the roleplaying thing as much as you did,” you giggle.
“Well, what can I say? It was hot,” he says. “Great idea, baby.” Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he smiles at you, kissing your forehead. “I love bringing you on tour with us.”
“I love it too.”
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evermoreal · 2 months
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some stalker!ghost thoughts ౨ৎ ࿐
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author’s note. i have never been into dark content but i got this idea in my head & ran with it >.< really, it’s not that dark, he’s just obsessive & needs to be near u at All Times. however he is a stalker so please heed the warnings !!
cw. 18+ mdni, fem reader, stalking, murder (nothing detailed & the reader doesn’t know), breaking & entering, voyeurism, masturbation. lmk if i missed anything ! <3
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∘♡༉∘ he meets you while on leave. it’s not often he’s off-base, and when he is, he rarely leaves the dingy little apartment he rents.
∘♡༉∘ despite the rumours, ghost is human. a human with a terrible sweet tooth, actually. after spending too long staring at his empty pantry, willing something to appear, he decides to check out the little bakery he’d spotted on an early-morning run a few days ago.
∘♡༉∘ it was quiet inside — so quiet he had to double check that the ‘open’ sign was actually lit up. it was, and there was a faint, bubble-gum pop song playing from somewhere behind the ‘employees only’ door. after a moment of deliberation, he dings the little bell atop the counter.
∘♡༉∘ there’s a short yelp, and that sickly-sweet music is immediately paused. not a moment later, the door is swung open, and the prettiest little thing he’s ever seen is rattling off non-sensical apologies. there’s a bit of flour on your nose, some frosting on your chin.
∘♡༉∘ ghost knows he’s intimidating — enjoys it, even. not once in his life has he felt at all bad about it, not until now. the way you stutter over your words, staring up at him with wide eyes, growing frantic the more he silently stares has him regretting everything.
∘♡༉∘ now, he wishes he’d taken the time to swap out his balaclava for a surgical mask, or at least worn something other than his usual black hoodie and jeans. all he can do is shove his hands in his pockets, and say as softly as he can manage, “‘s okay, sweetheart.”
∘♡༉∘ you visibly relax, at that. shoulders slumping from where they’d begun to climb toward your ears. after that, you’re asking how you can help him, and when he asks for suggestions, you’re full of them. he ends up leaving with a box full of treats he doesn’t need, but he just couldn’t say no to anything you offered.
∘♡༉∘ only two days later and he’s returning. he doesn’t know why, but he can’t get you out of his head.
∘♡༉∘ the sight of your big, toothy smile when he walks in has his heart soaring. you’re immediately asking about the treats, if he enjoyed them or not. of course he did — he couldn’t get through all of them without a sore stomach, but the ones he did eat were the best damn baked goods he’d ever had.
∘♡༉∘ it’s easy enough to find your social media; you’re not great with privacy settings, and he spotted your name on your tag the first day he met you. instagram, snapchat, twitter, spotify, even facebook. your posts are so sweet, he finds himself smiling absentmindedly as he scrolls through them. baked goods, selfies of you and your friends, animals, the moon. he doesn’t know why he’s so satisfied when he concludes you don’t have a partner.
∘♡༉∘ there’s a photo of you at the beach alongside your friends. you’re smiling in it, the way one would for a photo — it’s not genuine, not like how you smile at him. but you look beautiful, so much so that it has something foul twisting in his stomach at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. the photo wasn’t particularly revealing, and you weren’t posed scandalously, but… he grinds his teeth as he goes through the comments. he’s so, so proud when he sees that you haven’t responded to the men, not even deigning to like their comments. heart eyes and shitty compliments — he files away their names, somewhere in the back of his mind. just in case.
∘♡༉∘ it becomes routine to visit you after that. every few days he came in, spending more money than anyone should at a bakery. only once did he make the mistake of coming in on your day off. it only made sense for him to wait for your coworker to use the restroom and sneak back to the break room, snapping a photo of your schedule.
∘♡༉∘ additionally, and even more strangely, he’s glad the bakery has the sweet habit of labeling who made what treats. when you suggest the ones made by your coworkers, he’ll still purchase them, just to see you smile, but they don’t go anywhere near his mouth.
∘♡༉∘ and, hey, it’s not like sticking around until the end of your shift was a terrible idea. he’d sit in his car on the other side of the street, monitoring whoever entered and exited. he just needed to make sure you were safe. a sweet thing like you, the world would chew you up and spit you out so easily — there’s no way he’s gonna let that happen.
∘♡༉∘ it’s rare he deems someone a threat, but when an older man leaves the place with a scowl, he gets a bad feeling. immediately, he’s back inside the bakery, only to find you teary-eyed and sniffly. fury takes hold in an instant, but when you spot him and whimper out his name, he’s unable to leave again, no matter how badly he needs to hunt that man down. you step into his arms and ghost knows that prick will have to wait — right now, he needs to take care of you. wiping your eyes, cooing at you until you calm down enough to explain what happened. he insists you take your break, and when you do, he treats you to the restaurant across the street you’d mentioned you’d liked.
∘♡༉∘ the prick never comes back. you don’t question why, and simon’s glad for that. he doesn’t know how accepting you’d be if ghost told you he was buried a few cities over.
∘♡༉∘ after that, ghost’s instincts kind of go haywire. in his eyes, you’re no longer safe when he’s not around, not even at home. he spends his nights parked a few houses down, watching you through the window you so often forgot to draw the blinds across.
∘♡༉∘ a few weeks later, it was clear you were going through a bad time. although simon was greatly relieved when he found out it was merely a common flu, he was furious you still had to go to work to support yourself. in just a few months, if he kept at it, you might let him support you. for now, though, the best he could manage was slipping through an unlocked window and catching up on the chores you’d fallen behind. doing the dishes, your laundry, taking out your garbage. now, when you returned home, you’d be able to relax, to get better.
∘♡༉∘ additionally, he made mental notes of things that needed fixing. the lightbulb in your upstairs hallway was flickering, there was a leaky tap in the kitchen, and a few of your doors could use new hinges. he’d get to that, too, eventually.
∘♡༉∘ (he prayed you were delirious enough in your sickness to not notice. he was mostly right — through the window, he spotted you staring at the now-clean dishes with a puzzled expression. you brushed it off, and he exhaled in relief, returning to his phone, where he was purchasing a refill of your favourite perfume).
∘♡༉∘ it was hard, though. work often called him away, and he didn’t want any of the neighbours reporting a suspicious black truck parked on the street. after much debate, he purchased some cameras, installing them in a few rooms and along the exterior of your house.
∘♡༉∘ being able to check up on his girl helped him sleep when he was away. he had to pay a few extra dollars for it, but now whenever the motion sensors went off at night, he’d get a notification sent to his phone.
∘♡༉∘ he panics when it goes off one night, a while after he’d watched you fall asleep. it woke him up out of his dead sleep, body attuned to the sound of the notification. he was on base, a ways away from you; he couldn’t unlock his phone fast enough.
∘♡༉∘ however, he merely found you, alone in your room, writhing on your bed. he was confused for a long moment — were you hurt? did he need to call someone to check up on you? however, when he clicked the little ‘unmute’ button, and a low buzzing sound cut through his speakers, he came to the realization with a groan. you were getting off.
∘♡༉∘ he knew he should close the app. he knew this was a new level of invading your privacy. he knew he was disgusting . . . but the blood in his brain had already begun it’s descent to his cock, quick enough to make him light headed and a little stupid.
∘♡༉∘ the walls in the barracks were thin. he made sure to keep the volume low as he listened to your quiet moans and breathy whimpers. pressing his face close to the screen, he watched with wide, dilated eyes, cock twitching in his briefs every time you bucked your hips against the vibrator.
∘♡༉∘ simon didn’t quite know how it happened, but somehow he’d ended up on his tummy, cock fucking into his fist while he imagined it was your pretty little cunt. he finished embarrassingly quick, growling against his pillow, waiting just long enough to hear the sounds of your climax.
∘♡༉∘ the hazy, post-climax period was cut short when he heard your voice, quiet and muffled against your palm. it was breathy with the come-down, but his heart lurched in his chest. he had to rewind the video, holding the speaker up to his ear.
∘♡༉∘ sure enough, you’d uttered his name. simon. you were thinking of him.
∘♡༉∘ despite claiming you long ago, something was cemented in simon’s chest at the sound. he couldn’t wait any longer. the moment he returned, you’d be his. no matter what he had to do.
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annes-andromeda · 5 months
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Wish Rewrite
I have this tendency for rewriting material I either don’t like or think had wasted potential. At the time of writing this, Wish hasn’t come out in theaters but I did pirate it as there was an early screening. I also read the junior novelization and bought the concept art book. Needless to say, I was disappointed by what I read/saw.
I feel like Wish could’ve been better. Granted, the story and characters are not terrible, but they certainly leave much to be desired. This is literally Disney’s 100th anniversary, yet it doesn’t really feel like it. Not only that, but the movie felt incredibly rushed. Yeah I know that most Disney movies try have a run time of 90-100+ minutes, but I think a few more minutes could’ve been added to this film.
So, I decided to indulge myself and outline some changes that I think could’ve made the story slightly better. These ideas are by no means perfect, and in the end, this is all in good fun.
Spoilers ahead btw
The main story of Wish is essentially that Asha wants to get a job as Magnifico’s apprentice so that her grandfather’s wish is granted. But Asha finds out about the King’s true nature, and after questioning him, doesn’t get the job, and Magnifico vows to never grant Sabino or Sakina’s wishes.
Asha makes a wish on a star, and the star comes down, Magnifico tries to hunt down the two of them, he uses an evil spell book to create a staff, Magnifico destroys some wishes, Asha gets help from her friends, they sing a song to defeat Magnifico (I ‘wish’ i was joking), Star gives Asha a magic wand, and all is well.
Oh, and Amaya is… there.
It’s nothing complex, pretty cut and dry. And I don’t have a problem with a simple story! But this feels like it’s… missing something.
Firstly, I’d change the title. Disney already has a boat called Wish, and not every movie needs to be one word like Tangled, Frozen, and Brave (amongst others), so the story could be renamed “Asha and the Wishing Star” or “Asha and the Kingdom of Wishes”. Idk, something that evokes a classic fairytale book feel (or that does confuse people with a boat).
((Side note #1: I honestly enjoy that the story started off with a book, as a nod to classic disney movies, especially Snow White. That was cute))
Secondly, and I know I sound like a broken record at this point…
AMAYA👏🏼SHOULDVE👏🏼BEEN👏🏼A👏🏼VILLAIN👏🏼ALONGSIDE👏🏼HER👏🏼HUSBAND👏🏼
The original plan, according to the concept art book, was to have Magnifico and Amaya to be a villain couple who were partners in crime and owned a black sphinx cat named Charo. However for… reasons, the creators took the ‘safe’ route and made Amaya the good one out of the two.
But the problem is, by erasing Amaya’s evilness, the creators of Wish essentially removed any purpose or personality she may have had and thus, she was left to become a literal ‘supporting’ character. First supporting both Magnifico and Asha, then leaving Magnifico to prop up solely Asha.
Deadass, you can literally remove Amaya from the story and nothing would change. Which is probably why she was exempt from much of the promotional stuff minus the dolls. Because she literally serves no purpose but to be… there.
So, in my version of Wish, Amaya would be a co-conspirator to her husband and yes, I’m adding Charo too. Her personality would be inspired by classic female villains such as the Evil Queen from Snow White, Lady Tremaine from Cinderella, and Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.
Vain, glamorous, cunning, and unabashedly evil, Amaya would be the Morticia to Magnifico’s Gomez, the brains to his brawn. She’s the girlboss, he’s the wife instigator. Magnifico spoils Amaya rotten with countless gifts and praises, whilst Amaya is the more calm and collected evil compared to her husband’s ever-growing temper.
While she starts the story with no magic, Magnifico just can’t leave his wife hanging and shares the power of the evil spell-book with Amaya. And yes, even Charo gets in on the fun, turning from a small house cat, to a massive shape-shifting beast who breaths blue fire similarly to a dragon (shut up i think it’d be cool)
Magnifico and Amaya essentially keep the wishes of Rosas locked in the castle as a form of obedience. By giving the citizens false hope, it makes them more dependent on the royal couple, and the two have more power over everyone.
Anyways, let’s get to the main characters: Asha and Star.
I don’t have much of an issue with Asha’s character, more so her design. I already made a post showing my redesign of her, so that’s out of the way. Tbh tho, I also have an issue with the rest of the costume design of Wish, being a big costume nerd myself. The movie’s supposed to take inspiration from the Mediterranean, primarily places such as Spain and Morocco (and the Amazigh people for Asha), but the fashion feels like generic European medieval fashion.
I feel like the whole storyline of Asha’s interview with Magnifico was pretty pointless, so I would have it that she just starts off as the kings apprentice, whilst also working as Amaya’s scullery maid.
The couple took Asha in when the girl lost her father at the age of 12 (according to the film), and she’s been working for them for five years. Asha works not only to support herself, her family, and her community, but also as a way to distract from the grief of losing her father. Which is no issue, as Amaya always bombards the girl with chores, and Magnifico only teaches Asha the most basic of magic for fear of her growing more powerful than him.
I made Asha work as a scullery maid not only as a reference to princesses such as Snow White and Cinderella starting off their respective stories as maids, but also because scullery maids acted as assistants to the kitchen maids. Dahlia works in the kitchen, Asha and Dahlia are best friends, I figured it made sense.
But anyways, on the day of Sabino’s 100th birthday, Sakina tells Asha to take a break and return home, as she hardly visits anymore due to work. Asha says she’ll try asking the king and queen to get off early, but that she can’t make any promises.
Asha meets with Magnifico and asks for the day off, but the king refuses. However, wanting to keep her loyalty, Magnifico finally shows Asha the wish chamber, and even allows her to witness the wish ceremony that night. But once Asha starts questioning the king on his methods, any goodwill between them begins to fade.
Another thing I’m disappointed in, is that originally Star was going to be a shapeshifting humanoid inspired by the Genie and Peter Pan, and may have even had a romance with Asha. But, the idea was scrapped for the more cutesy, ‘marketable’, version of Star.
In my retelling, I’d choose to do this human shapeshifter version of Star, but I’d name him something else. The star Earendel was mentioned in the concept art book, which is the farthest known star from Earth and not only means ‘morning star’ in Old English, but is also named after the Tolkien character, Eärendil.
I would call this shapeshifter Star Earen, and because Disney loves their animal/cute sidekicks, Earen can have the ‘Kirby’ Star as a companion, just like how Asha has Valentino and Magnifico and Amaya have Charo.
((Side #2: Anybody else notice that Star lowkey looks and sounds like Kirby😶))
Earen and Star journey down to Rosas once they hear Asha’s pleas for guidance. Once Asha tells of Magnifico and Amaya’s lies, Earen reveals that he actually met Magnifico decades ago. The amount of years shocks Asha, as she realizes that the King and Queen might be far older than what they are.
((Side note #3: I didn’t realize this till someone mentioned it, but if Sabino is 100 and he gave Magnifico his wish at 18, then he’s been waiting 82 years for his wish to be granted. Which means it’s likely that Magnifico might be immortal. That, or Disney didn’t think this shit through (most likely)))
Anyways, Earen actually attempted to stop Magnifico and Amaya’s ploy to keep the wishes of Rosas locked away, but he was sealed within the heavens until he and Star heard Asha make her wish.
We can have it that the king and queen spun the story so that Earen was made out to be an evil that once threatened Rosas, but Magnifico banished him and saved everyone, essentially making himself out to be the good guy and manipulating the narrative.
Asha and Earen must now work together to expose the lies of the royal couple, and along the way, the two begin to fall in love. Earen disguises himself as a peasant boy so as to remain inconspicuous, while Asha tries to go about her job as if nothing happened, evading the King and Queen’s suspicions.
Star gives Asha a stick infused with stardust once finding out she is, quite literally, the sorcerers apprentice. It is also so that she may defend herself, as Earen has his powers and a sword (similarly to Peter Pan).
Unlike Magnifico, Earen and Star teach Asha the wonders of magic and the potential she wields, showing that there is no need for her to hold back when her gift can help so many, including those she loves.
The three manage to sneak into the kings study, but only have time to retrieve Sabino’s wish and return it to him. However, Magnifico and Amaya, now strengthened by the powers of dark magic, find Asha and Earen and threaten to destroy all the wishes should Earen not surrender to them.
And as a way to ensure that Asha doesn’t foil their plans, Magnifico destroys both Asha and Sakina’s wishes, despite Asha not being eighteen yet. However, the evil magic allows him to do so. This act weakens the two women, and infuriates Earen.
Earen then willingly complies despite Asha’s opposition, and Sabino takes Asha and Sabina to the seven (well six) teens for aid, who are in hiding after Simon ratted them out and who now serves as a puppet to the king and queen.
Despite loosing her wish, Asha finds the strength to carry on through the memory of her late father, enlisting the help of her friends and Star, who managed to evade the royal couple’s grasp. The team must work together to save Earen, whose power will be drained by Magnifico and Amaya. And if such a feat were to happen, then Earen would die and Rosas would be lost.
The five teens go into the woods to distract one of the royals, with the aid of the forest fauna and Star. Amaya chases the group alongside Charo while Magnifico tortures Earen and begins stealing his power. With the help of Dahlia, Asha sneaks into the castle to confront her former mentor and save Earen before it’s too late.
At first, it seems that the heroes have the upper hand with Magnifico neutralized, but then, Amaya swoops in riding Charo, who now takes the form of a giant dragon. Earen transforms into a dragon himself and battles Charo and Amaya, while Asha continues battling Magnifico. Star even comes to help after the original plan fails.
However, the unholy trio have the upper hand, and Amaya strikes down Earen, giving Magnifico enough time to not only drain Earen’s power, but to trap Star within his staff. With their combined powers, Magnifico and Amaya gather all of the peoples wishes, even stealing the wishes of those not yet of age, which includes the teens.
With all the wishes gathered, the couple and their pet destroy all the wishes, taking their energy for themselves.
Asha falls into despair as she watched her friends, love ones, and community succumb to the grief of loosing their wishes. The king and queen force Asha to apologize to the people, mocking her and making her feel even more guilty.
However, Earen comforts Asha despite his weak state, telling her it’s alright and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of wishing on Star, as he brought the two of them together. The two kiss, the strength of their newfound love and hope shining through the darkness and inspiring the people of Rosas to rise up.
As the sky and stars become alive, Magnifico’s staff is destroyed, releasing Star in the process. All the evil magic he, Amaya, and Charo used is sucked out of them and vanquished, and Earen is restored to full vitality.
Think of this as the transformation scene from Princess and the Frog. Asha and Earen get new outfits, with Asha even gaining a crown and a new wand from Star.
((Side Note #4: The “transformation” in the finale of the film is so stupid. Asha could’ve literally gotten a new dress once she becomes a fairy godmother, but instead, Star just made her sparkly. How magical🙄))
Rosas rejoices, as they realize they don’t need the king to make their wishes come true, and they can pursue them themselves. With Magnífico and Amaya banished from Rosas, Asha and Earen become the new rulers, being names Prince and Princess respectively.
And that’s basically how I would’ve done Wish. It’s not perfect, but it’s just an idea. I’m just disappointed that Disney do something better for their 100th anniversary.
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meidnightrain · 18 days
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YOUR BEST AVGIN BOY❞ - aventurine
summary: sometimes he can’t help but wish, to be a better person worthy of your love
warnings: reader is gn, angst, hints of spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest
notes: inspired by the song your best american girl by mitski because honestly ever since aventurine came out, i keep thinking of him whenever that song plays.
taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept
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you have so much to do in this world, you live, you learn, and you grow towards the sun like a seed sprouting from the earth. but AVENTURINE had nothing ahead of him, it seemed. to be haunted endlessly by his past, to gamble everything he had on the line and wish for his luck to run out eventually, to be nothing more than a reminder of his family that were now gone.
you hold him in your embrace tightly, so tight that the thoughts that gnaw at him cannot grasp his shoulders. he can be protective at times; you’ve noticed that self-destructive and self-sacrificial side of his, and you’ve hated it for as long as you remember.
you’ve once asked why his favourite suit were spades—why not hearts or diamonds? his answer had been because they symbolised luck, and you had not bought his answer without hesitation. spades were commonly tied to death—the balance between creation and destruction.
if he could, he’d be your little spoon, held together by your arms that would wrap around his waist. and he’d kiss your fingers forevermore, slender and soft, unlike his calloused and sly ones, his fingers that were stained with blood and used for trickery. you run them through his hair, caressing his cheeks. you’ve memorised every nook and cranny of him, from the curve of his hip to the shape of his jaw.
he shivered under your touch, sending chills down his spine and willing him to pull your body closer to his so that you’d envelop all of him, even the bad parts that he hated.
your hold on him tightens ever so slightly, willing yourself not to waver when you speak, to be strong, and to protect him like he always did for you. “there have been moments where you’ve been more than not fine, but fine itself is the best way of describing how you feel without getting me to worry about you. so tell me, what can i do to make you stop hurting?”
“i think if you kissed me more than once, i’d be alright.” his voice is low, muffled from where he had burrowed his face into your chest.
he can hear the rumble of your laughter from where his head lay over your heart, feel the gentle and steady beating of your heart, a lullaby that lulls him to sleep. AVENTURINE has always been vulnerable in your arms; when his mouth meets yours, you both melt into each other almost instantly.
your mother wouldn't approve of how his mother raised him—alone in the ruthless sands and learning to survive with sharp wit and cunning. in fact, he knew that your family hated him, for he was an avgin. sweet as honey, twisted into something more sour by the ipc who spread falsehoods and lies to promote their agenda in the galaxy.
and some part of him couldn’t help but try to be the best he could be for you and dispel that idea people perceived of him, even if he himself didn’t believe they were wrong.
his desire had always been futile, for you had the options and the freedom to become whoever you wanted to be. he had always been nothing but a remnant of an extinct race, a miracle survivor amongst the thousands of his people lost.  
you are the sun, a glimmering star in the sky that is adored and praised by many. you've never seen the night; why would you when all everyone needs is you? but you hear its song from the morning birds, one of sweet symphony and of the refreshing glow that is its moonlight. he is not the moon, AVENTURINE is not even a star. he wasn’t flashy; he could not even compare to the light you brought. but awake at night, he’ll be singing to the birds, weaving tales for them to bring back to you, even if he knew that you’d never spare a glance at him, even if it mean that he’d never be able to see your smile.
he is the one; he is all you have ever wanted, even though you knew that loving him would ruin you. how does one heal a broken heart, one too far shattered beyond repair? you build him up again, like piecing a puzzle and filling up his missing pieces using fragments of you. and he could never be unloved by you, for his is too well tangled into your soul. every bit of you screams for him, for his love, for him to be yours, even if you know that it will be lost in the void.
and you’d wait for him to return from the abyss, even though you knew that some part of him didn’t wish to come back to you.
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© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION
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marymary-diva17 · 2 months
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Neglected sully (3)
avatar navi x reader
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The forest had been your whole life it was where you had been born and took your first steps, it had made you happy and also broke your heart. It had become the place where it held all the people that you love so dearly, and who saw you for you. Sorrow had come from the place when you had been blamed for actions way out of you control, and later on banished from the place you call home. Still holding close the memories and some keepsakes from your old home and life. When there comes sorrow there also comes new beginning and you had stated your new beginning.
y/n" my eywa my great mother my guidance in the dark" Right now you are sitting in the home that you have made with kawwney. It had been nearly three half years since she was exiled and disowned. She had been able to make a new life here among the reef navi, yes it did take her time to adapt but she soon become one of the people.
y/n " thank you great mother for the blessing you gave me in life" you are singing your song chord. Life had changed so much for you since you had left home and become metkayian.
????? " ma y/n" you soon stooped singing and soon looked up to see your husband kawwney standing there.
y/n " hello my husband how was the talk with your father and mother"
Kawwney " it had went well my love I had been even asked by my father to join him, on scouting missions and I agree if that well with you"
y/n " that perfect with me ma kawwney it good you and your father, are helping and sharing the clan responsibilities"
kawwney " thank you yawntu" kawwney soon brought you into an warm embrace and kissed your forehead, making you smile and kiss him back as well.
kawwney " now tell me where are our wonderful children"
y/n " they are fast asleep my love"
kawwney " here I was hoping to have some time with them before I had to leave"
???? " baba"
y/n " well it seems like you get that wish answered my love" kawwney smile brightly and laughed, as she soon walked off into another room of the home.
y/n " do you need help in there"
kawwney " I'm good" kawwney soon came into the room carrying three navi children in his arms, all of them smiles brightly and happy.
y/n " they are growing up so fast ma kawwney"
kawwney " well they are ours in no time they will be walking around here and talking in compete sentences with us"
y/n " our perfect sons and beautiful daughter"
kawwney " yes our perfect children just like their mama and they will do amazing in the future" You had started a family with kawwney not that long ago and had triplets two boys and one girl, and triplets are rare among navi sending the clan into celebration due to the boys birth. They are named Kewia, Roili, and Aeyla names that you and kawwney had picked out for them.
warrior " kawwney and y/n hello I'm sorry for interrupting"
y/n " it okay has something happened"
warrior " yes tonowari has called us we will be leaving now for scouting and some other matters"
kawwney " tell my father I will be there shortly I need to put my children down"
warrior " yes I will make sure to tell him" the warrior soon left leaving the family of five in the home.
y/n " here let me take Ayela for you so you can put kewia and Roili down"
kawwney " thank you" ayela had soon went into your arms and smile, as you held her for a bit until you put her down on a mat, soon being joined by her brothers.
kawweny " I will be home in time for dinner so don't worry"
y/n " I always worry"
kawwney " I will be safe you had helped me learn more about these humans and their ways, take care of yourself and the children as well ... I know you will not be alone today as my mom and siblings will be here with the rest of the clan"
y/n " that what I love now go dont keep your father and other waiting any longer"
kawwney " yes my love" kawwney had grabbed his spear and soon kissed you and the kids goodbye before he took off and left. You had soon watch him leave until you could no longer see him, and you soon sat down with the children.
y/n " my children you will always be love by me and I will make sure the three of you are treated fairly and no ever feels alone, I will not become like them"
kids " mama" the children smile towards you making you smile at them, as you soon started looking at them as they play with their wooden toys and crawling around trying their best to walk.
tsireya " hello"
y/n " tisreya come in" tsireya soon smiled as she walked into the home, you and her become very close after the days of your arrival here. She had been happy to finally meet the girl her brother had been crushing on and telling her about as well.
tsireya " I came to check up on you and my nephews and niece how are they doing"
y/n " I'm guessing your brothers are not that far as well"
rotxo " good morning"
aonung " good morning y/n and little ones" the children started speaking in gibberish and laughing after seeing their uncles and aunt arrive in the home.
y/n " it good to have you kids here today but sadly you missed your brother as he went off with your father"
tsireya " oh we saw him when he was with our father and as we going to come see you anyways"
y/n " that sounds like your brother"
aonung " come here kawie lets do more with your walking I know you will be a mighty warrior like my brother" aonung soon reached out his hand and started helping his nephew walk a bit.
rotxo " come on roili we can't let them have all the fun" while the boys were doing some walking practice on the other side of the room, leaving you with ayela and tsireya.
y/n " these boys are so much like kawwney"
tsireya " do you mean the older boys are the babies"
y/n "both" you and Tsireya had laughed as the both of you are helping ayela with her walking.
later that afternoon
ronal " hello everyone"
aonung " mother"
ronal " hello I came to speak with y/n and see my grandchildren"
rotxo " yes mom but I thought you will be busy all day"
tsireya " yes with clan responsibilities"
ronal " well I got some time off and now I came to have some words with y/n"
tsireya " yes mother"
y/n " you all can come see the children later it almost time for their nap"
aonung " okay will we are off to deal with our task mom"
ronal " that good my children" the kids had left as you had put the triplets down for a nap, once they are asleep you are now sitting with ronal.
ronal " I came here to have some words of importance with you"
y/n " sure"
ronal " as you know my son will start taking a more serious role as the future leader of the clan, and sharing responsibilities with his dad"
y/n " yes he told me that this morning he very happy about it and I'm happy for him"
ronal " I'm happy for him as well but I wish for you to take over some roles of tshaik as you being his mate, you will share the title with tsireya"
y/n " I wish not to take away her birthright"
ronal " no need to worry y/n reya has benen told and agree with it, as you had helped her learn as well you healing ways have helped the clan in many ways and your connection with the great mother is mighty and beautiful ... tshaik was your brith right was it not"
y/n " yes but everyone wishes for my sister and my brother future mate over them as I was seen bad child or demon blood"
ronal " there no demon blood in you I was shocked when my son said he was in love, and I was hoping to meet the girl who stole his hair but we did meet ... in a way I was not hoping for"
y/n " I don't think anyone hope we will meet like that' you and ronal laugh a bit.
ronal " you are perfect learning the ways wonderful and soon making. name for yourself, and soon becoming one of the people and starting a family here as well"
y/n " thank you and I will like to take the responsibility and tile of tshaik"
ronal " good" well it was agree as now you will be taking over the some of the responsibilities of tshaik, an announcement had been shared with the people and soon enough word had spread around the village. As life in the village had become peaceful and clam at the moment that all changed when you heard horn blow.
y/n " has someone come or have the Scouts return" you had went to check on the children to see they were still asleep, as you soon went to see what was going and it seem like the rest of the clan is doing the same thing as well.
navi " new arrivals have come to the village"
navi 2 " yes it seems like they all have traveled a long way to get here"
navi 3 " they look similar to y/n they are from the forest as well ... oh y/n hello"
y/n " hello it seems like we have guests from the forest I'm going to see them" you had soon made you way through the crowd it was not the hard as they had made room for you, soon enough you had seen the newcomers bit by bit until you were close enough. Until you stopped walking as you reach the front, looking at the male navi who was at the front.
Jake "hello we come in peace we mean you all no harm" it was your family and old clan, even due it had been many years you could still remember them very well but it seems like they did see yet. Soon enough tonowari and kawwney had retune shocking the new arrivals, as they landed their creatures in the water and soon walked onto the beach.
Jake " I see you tonowari and I see you kawwney"
tonowari "Jake sully" soon enough ronal had made herself know as the crowd made room for her as well, she was now standing with her son and mate.
ronal " ......."
tonowari "why have you all come here"
Jake " we came here seeking refuge for my family and clan ... we seek uturu"
ronal " uturu"
Jake " yes for my family and clan please that all I ask for" ronal was walking around your family she soon noticed three of the kids, are just like you and her granddaughter. She knew of the history of your parents and was staring draggers at them.
ronal " there arms and tails are weak they will have a hard time adapting here"
Jake " we can adapt right everyone"
everyone " yes"
ronal " these three kids have the blood of sky people in them"
Jake " yes they are just like me two of them my kids and other one the adopted son of my right hand man Tsu'tey, but I was once sky people and become one of the people"
Tonowari " we all know tale of toruk makto but you are not the only one who has come here from the forest"
mo'at " what do you mean"
ronal " many years ago someone from the forest had made their own journey here
Jake " who we never knee someone from the forest had come here"
????? " hello it has been a long time hasn't it Jake sully" you soon showed yourself looking at your family and old clan, they all looked shocked to see you standing there.
neytiri " y/n"
y/n " hello may the years have gone by but I can still remember you all"
sully kids and spider " y/n"
tonowari " y/n as you had once been form the forest and one of omatacayia clan, do you think we should let them stay"
y/n " yes we should let them stay it the will of the great mother, it will be horrible to send them away after all the way they came here"
Jake " y/n you are ...." Jake had tried to take a step near you but had been hissed at by kawwney who was glaring at the war hero.
tonowari " you and your family along with your clan will be allowed to stay here, we have some home and extra space for you all to use ... hut during your time you will be learning the ways of our people"
Jake " yes what do we say everyone"
everyone " thank you"
tonowari " my childern from my sons and daughter will be helping with your children and the boy with training, and y/n as well if she wishes to"
kawwney " y/n"
y/n " I will help them as I still hold my clan and old home close to my heart, even after all these years"
aonung " we will help for the sake and honor of y/n"
rotxo " yes we will do our best to help to our guests learn the ways"
Tsireya " yes we will"
tonowari " my people the sully family and their clan members will staying here with us as we see them learning the ways, but we will need to help them as they are babies taking thier first breathe" the clan was not that happy that much of helping the adults as they knew of your past, and hated how much pain you had been put through.
y/n " come with me I will show you around the village and where you all will be staying"
tsireya " I will help as well"
rotxo and aonung " us to"
y/n " then grab what we can and help them move come along so, you all will have enough time to settle in" there had been no time for words to be spoken, as the group had soon followed you as you showed them around village. Your family was now standing near their new home.
y/n " this is where you will be staying for your time being there enough room for you all. Tsu'tey you and your son will be staying over there"
Jake " thank you"
y/n " your welcome" your sibling and spider had put their stuff down and soon ran towards you, they soon hugged you.
neteyam " you been here the whole time"
y/n " yes I have after the incident that had unfolded many years ago"
lo'ak " we have missed you but now that you are here with us"
y/n " yes I have missed you all"
kiri " you have changed so much sister"
y/n " we have all changed my sister"
tuk " y/n I'm happy to have my big sister back"
y/n " I'm happy to have my baby sister back as well"
spider " we have missed having you around"
y/n " well we are back together"
mo'at " granddaughter"
y/n " grandmother" the children had let you go as mo'at soon walked closer to you, and soon hugged you and you hugged her back.
mo'at " I'm happy to see you are well and the young adult you have become, all of you have grown up well in front of my eyes and when we were apart"
y/n " yes we all have and that makes me happy"
tsireya " we hope you all have a good stay here"
lo'ak " thank you for the help"
tsireya " your welcome"
neteyam " thanks for the help back there with the stuff"
aonung " well you are all our guest here we will be helping as much as we can"
spider " this place amazing"
kiri " I cant wait to see what is offers"
rotxo ' " well you are going to have an amazing time here" the group had helped the guests unpack their stuff and settle in bit.
tsireya " y/n we are going to head home for dinner and it getting late as well"
y/n " yes that good" the three teens soon left leaving you with your loved ones.
y/n " there is the food here or I see you brought some food as well, getting settled in"
neteyam " wait why don't stay with us"
y/n " I will love to brother but I have my own place here and I'm need elsewhere, don't be sad I will see you all tomorrow and we will have enough time to caught up"
tuk " okay"
y/n " goodbye for now rest well everyone" your sibling and spider hugged you on last time they soon walked into the their homes. As you were now with Jake, Neytiri, and Tsu'tey the tiro looked at you.
y/n " I hope the clan can help you while you are here"
Jake " it been so long your have grown over the time"
neytiri " yes it good to see you again life hasn't been the same"
y/n " take care all of you and tomorrow change is coming for us all" you had bowed your head saying nothing else as you soon walked off, leaving them alone to get use to their new lives here. There was something new about you that no on could understand only mo'at could see and understand, they soon saw you speaking with kawwney and soon talking with him and walking off together. There was this feeling in the air that your family and clan were feeling after see you after so long.
That night
y/n " ......" you are sitting on the bed you share with kawwney, he soon came into the room with the children.
y/n " what going on"
kawwney " it will be best for them to stay in here with us tonight, as you are going to need all our support to deal with them" kawwey soon place the kids in hanging crib.
kawwney " they are asleep after having a good dinner and play time"
y/n " yes"
kawwney " what the matter my love"
y/n " I hope I have enough strength to deal with them"
kawwney " you have enough strength my love you have shown me that strength over and over again, but you are not alone I'm here I will help you"
y/n " thank you"
kawwney "I love you"
y/n " I love you as well" kawwney soon brought you into a hug and kissed your forehead, the both of you stayed awake before laying in bed and fall alseep after moving the kids to the bed. You had looked at your mate and kids, with a smile on your face yes you did have the strength for anything that will come for you. A smile grown on your face as you kissed your husband and kids on their heads, before falling asleep as well. As the last words had escaped your mouth before you had fallen asleep thank you great mother.
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tcustodisart · 1 month
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Connecticut Tav | Wood Half-Elf | Beast Master Ranger
So, this is my sheet for @bareee's @tav-dex. Went a little overboard and made a whole ass character sheet (man the last time I made one of those was so long ago). I want to write something about my cringe boy so. Buckle up because it's going to be long and poorly written (I suck at writing).
One edit because I'm a dummy, his alignment is neutral good not true neutral idk why I did that.
He was born and raised in his mom's and step-dad's tavern called Crow's Perch (not as fancy as Elf Song but in a different category as Blushing Mermaid)(the tavern thing is just for the sake of a joke that the most popular drink they serve is called 'Connecticut Water'). He has an older brother, who's a bard. Despite the description for Urchin background ("After surviving a poor and bleak childhood") he had a happy childhood, filled with love and support. The two brothers treated the whole Lower City as their playground: breaking into places just for fun, pick pocketing nobles, climbing Wyrm's Rock Fortress etc.
His love for beasts and creatures of any kind comes from the stories told by his step-dad (both him and Tav's mom are retired adventurers). Step dad was the one who told Tav about Darkmaw the Wicked *wink wink*.
At one point he got tired of the city life and decided he wanted to become a ranger. After successfully fulfilling some contracts he became so confident of his skills he tried to build a trap all by his own. The trap exploded right into his face (he himself has no idea how it didn't kill him or damaged his eyes). After that he was sulking in his hunting hut for a month. The experience humbled the boy. Most of his adventuring prior to the nautiloid could just be boiled down to hanging around one village and talking local boars out of destroying potato fields, and occasionally getting rid of poachers.
Before the abduction he was on his way to Baldur's Gate to see his family (which he hasn't seen in months).
Trivia (because it's easier to write stuff this way):
His hair started to go grey at the start of Act 3 from the weight of responsibility and stress.
In Act 1 he was corresponding with his family thanks to Faust. After entering The Underdark he stopped sending letters (In Underdark because it would be hard, in Act 2 because he didn't want the bird to be killed by Shadow Curse).
Despite being close to his family in Act 3, he didn't visit them or send any messages in fear that Gortash and/or Orin would hurt them.
He carries with him a razor and some fancy oils for his beard.
His brother wrote one ballad about him, soon after that Tav forbid him from writing more (it was very much not accurate).
His step-dad taught him how to fight with a sword, while his mom taught him archery and the art of stealth.
Tav's biological father died when he was very young so he has barely any memory of him.
Tav's a walking Merlin app, he can identify any bird by just listening to it.
He loves climbing trees. Either to rest on a branch or to scout the surroundings.
He loves picking up herbs and making potions.
Despite growing up in a tavern he's not much of a drinker.
He's very self-conscious about his height and chest-to-belly area. He tries his best not to show it.
At one point he was persona non grata at Sharess' Caress.
He enjoys fishing.
Sir Daisy Dewdrop Fluffington is a name of his childhood plush.
He knows how to play lanceboard (he often plays against Gale and tries to teach it to Wyll).
He draws in his journal. He drew all of his companions at least once.
He almost cried when Jaheira called him 'cub' and almost called her 'mom' in response.
He's scared of Lae'zel. But tries his best to understand and help her.
He had countless heart-to-hearts with Karlach.
In his journal he described Astarion as 'his equal on the battlefield'.
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el-velvis · 2 months
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Adam x reader (hazbin hotel)
-How you met adam-
Headcanons
Adam for the first time he laid eyes on you was intrigued, you were a part of the right hand angels of God, you were always shy and remain on your side, you weren't like the one to sing song everytime someone did something, you weren't part of that, he was just watching every step that you make even if it was a "little" strange because it was becoming a obsession.
He tried to talk with you but never had the oportunity, when all of you where in a reunion for the extermination, so that would be it, when everyone left the room he tried to steal your attention by calling you out with a joke "ehy there bitch-ASS" you turn around and stare at him with a strange face , he saw your face and tried to say something else "e-ehy so what are you doing there bitch?" you stare at him with almost closed eyes "what?" you said in a cold tone, after your answer he open his wings and walked close to you towering you "oh come on why you are all sad and annoying all by yourself dont'chu wan' to have some Fun?" you step away and walk away without respond.
He failed at the attempt to have your attention, why you were so stubborn he was Adam, the first man, the first fucking dick, but he knows that he can't give up he wants your attention... He wants'.. You
After some time that he tries, you finally accepted his company and went out with him on, what he was calling a "date", you did it only for him to shut up and leave you be.
But little you know that after some Times spending in talk and joke on you, eat and passing the time toghether (even if he was most of the time the one that talked and bother you) you finally accepted him, and you discover a part of him that no one ever noticed or saw.
He scared about you, after all of This time trying to understand you and go out with you, you got that he wasn't just a little whiny baby that has a big ego, he was even a great listener even if he didn't show that and a great companion.
He would most of the time create little gifts made out of pasta or little things and hide them in your place or book or pocket, and just wai until you notice them, you always laugh with Joy and smile warmly to him knowing that he was the only one that could ever made some of that, obviusly he didn't want to make it seen so he just acted bitchy when you point it out but under that mask he would have a big and warmly blushing smile.
"ehy Adam?" you look at him "what?" and after that you hugged him out of no where and he was trying to pull you away "ehy ehy what the hell bitch! What do you think you're doing!" you stopped and smile at him patting his head like a little dog "E-EHY WHAT-" and you walk away, he just stand there blushing like 🧍🏻"damn y/n..".
He asks for help even at Lute, how to ask you for a real thing, panicking because maybe you won't like him but you Will Run away... All that time that now you pass toghether was now all he need to confess for real.
You couldn't believe that you were growing a crush for him, not only a crush but a love, a pure and genuine love but your head told you to stop dreaming, he was Adam, the Man created from God's hand, how much would he care about you, you are no one for him... You thought, and so you started to back up a little, just to not end up broken.
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So that the first part of how you met him, obviusly all he do are my headcanons so Im not saying anything.
If you want to see more just let me know❤️‍🔥✨
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shirefantasies · 3 months
Note
I'm doing pretty good! Ty for asking
I wanted to request Lindir (and anyone else you might want to do) with a reader that loves playing with/braiding his hair? A very simple request but I find it adorable
That does sound quite sweet 😌 I decided to do this with all the major elves because we love elf fluff in this house 💖
Elves + Braiding
Lindir
✧ He is surprised the first time you idly take strands of his long brown hair in your hands, giving a look of polite surprise as he awaits your next action.
✧ Then you pull back the sides of his hair, braiding them at the back of his head, and he would be lying if he said it felt anything but satisfying, both having his face freed from the strands and also your hands delicately working their magic upon his hair.
✧ Too shy to request it, Lindir simply sits by your side, hoping the whim takes you again. Perhaps he will practice a song, sitting at his harp or holding a smaller instrument and feeling the small smile creep onto his lips when your fingers comb through his hair again.
✧ When he catches you in a moment of stress his subconscious works faster than his mind; without thinking he’s running hands through your hair, sliding the cool skin soothingly over your scalp.
✧ He turns red each time, but Lindir’s absolute favorite is when you rest your gorgeous head upon his shoulder. Gently he strokes your hair before ever-so-slightly resting his head atop yours.
Thranduil
✧ Fixes you with a look of surprise when you subconsciously reach for his long golden locks, but after removing a leaf from them your fingers twirl the ends of his tresses and he smiles fondly.
✧ Shakes his head a bit at you as you play with his hair, weaving new strands together. The loops you make may not be as intricate as others he has seen, but they are sturdy.
✧ From then on Thranduil dubs you talented, encouraging you to try more techniques, be they braiding or weaving. At first you can hardly help questioning if he sees your intent…
✧ …before you realize he is the only one you’re allowed to practice on. He is calling on you, plain and simple.
✧ You try to keep this out of your head, but the way the back of his hand traces your cheekbones as he sits you down makes that harder and harder…
Arwen
✧ You relax her in a way few else do, the ease you bring leading her to seek you out again and again.
✧ She knows how you enjoy what you do and she wants to pay it back, too. “Come, let us make our braids!” And just like that, your habit has become ours.
✧ She loves the feel of your hair, asking permission of course the first few times she touches it, but soon it seems even when you’re just sitting together someone is caressing the other’s hair.
✧ Sometimes when you’re feeling especially merry, you’ll playfully swat her with her own little ponytails. It always gets one of those rare laughs out of her.
✧ Cue Arwen wrapping her arms around your shoulders, forcing you to drop her hair as she grapples you (lovingly).
Elrond
✧ His eyes track yours one day, catching the way they follow the silky length of his hair. One day you venture sweeping some off his shoulder, growing bolder at Elrond’s soft smile.
✧ Your hands shake at first, but he nods and smiles reassuringly as you begin your weaving work. His hair is smooth, needing little to nothing, so instead you craft a kind of crown for him braided about his head.
✧ You tell him as much as you reveal your work, shocked at the way his expression has melted into something far, far softer.
✧ “Allow me to return the favor,” he says, hands sliding temptingly over your shoulders as he rotates you- and who are you to say no?
✧ “Though I do not deserve a crown,” you remind him. “You do not see things as I do, then.”
Legolas
✧ You’d never touch his hair without asking, unsure how Legolas would react until you shyly offer to braid it freshly back for him.
✧ He agrees with one of the smiles that has your heart leaping, encouraging you with a gentle nod as you take a seat behind him and begin your work. From the moments your hands brush his back, you can feel Legolas relaxing as you weave his golden hair.
✧ From then on he goes to you when he wants it fixed, teasingly asking if you might like to braid his hair again.
✧ It’s probably one of the most romantic things to happen to you the day Legolas sits you down, saying it’s his turn to take care of your hair.
✧ You two both end up in this sort of symbiosis of doing each other’s hair, barely ever touching your own.
Haldir
✧ Starts a bit the first time your hands comb his hair, but the butterflies he’s feeling may become evident in the way Haldir’s eyes fix you.
✧ You can feel him lean into your touch, the gentle motion of your fingers soothing him. Rare are the moments in which Haldir gives in to simple breath, release of all the burdens that he holds, and yet it is clear he craves it.
✧ "Why," he asks as you release his locks, letting them flow down his shoulders, "are you doing this?" "Do you really not know?" You simply ask back, caresses moving from the base of his neck to the sides of his face as you turn him your way.
✧ Your habit leads to the first of many kisses shared with Haldir, often stolen beneath the swaying branches of some faraway tree.
✧ Playing with your hair is not his habit, but running his hands wildly through it as your lips embrace is.
Galadriel
✧Amusement dances in her blue eyes as you reach up and comb her golden waves through your hands.
✧ “I’m sorry,” you sheepishly apologize, “may I?” “Of course,” she answers simply and gives a little nod as you step closer again.
✧ Galadriel turns to fix her enchanting gaze upon you as you work, smile too knowing not to bring warmth to your face and a shake to your fingers.
✧ Since that day, she combs her fingers through your hair as she passes by you, her fingers sometimes trailing down to the side of your cheek.
✧ You can feel her eyes upon you as far as her watch can reach, simultaneously bringing safe warmth shining through your chest and a shiver down your spine.
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zablife · 4 months
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Ordinary People
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Summary: When you meet a charming soldier in a base hospital during WWI, you become fascinated by him and quickly develop a relationship. You both agree to leave the affair in France, but what happens when fate has other plans?
Author's Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time's 4K celebration and based on a request from @kammsinn. Tysm for the amazing inspo, darl! Lyrics are from the song "Til We Meet Again."
Warnings: hint of smut, angst with a happy ending
1917
You knew it was unethical conduct that could get you fired, but somehow you set all logic aside that final evening you entered the dark-haired soldier’s hospital room. He had invited you back at sunset with a desperate plea. “I’m leaving Boulogne tomorrow, love. Stay the night with me.” His strikingly blue eyes trained on you eagerly awaiting your reply. “Please,” he added quietly, reaching for your hand. His gaze held such hope, you caved to your own desire immediately.
Giving his hand a gentle squeeze you agreed in a hushed whisper, “Yes, I’ll come back,” you said as a small smile tugged at your lips. Something about the charm of this handsome, young soldier was enough to make you disregard the risk associated with his request.
Later that evening, with heart hammering in your chest, you slipped into his room. You bit your lip to hide your excitement when you caught sight of him. He was shirtless with a bandage covering a large portion of his left shoulder, propped up in bed reading the book you’d brought him days earlier. “Y/n,” Tommy said, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and relief. “It’s late, I wasn’t sure you’d visit," he admitted shyly, discarding his book on the bedside table.
“Told you I would,” you reminded him gently. “I had to see my favorite patient,” you teased. He broke into a warm smile, pulling you down onto his bed with his good arm. Caressing his face with your fingertips you added softly, “Did you really think I’d let you go without a proper goodbye?”
His smile faded at the mention of your imminent separation. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight,” he confided, burying his head in the crook of your neck and placing kisses to your throat.
“Then we won’t,” you promised, stroking his hair. “I can think of other things we can do,” you whispered into the shell of his ear.
Tommy didn’t miss the hint of mischief in your voice as you scooted closer to him, running a hand down his toned chest and stomach. Though he wanted you badly, his mind was restless with thoughts of his departure. He looked at you with sadness in his cool blue eyes, a chill washing over him you’d never seen before. Even when he was in pain, the man never showed weakness or cried out. He kept so much inside himself you wondered how he could possibly be human. As you took in the sight of his long, feathery lashes you were even more certain of his otherworldly nature.
His eyes traced the features of your face slowly, drinking in the sight of you as you suggested an activity he hadn’t been expecting. “Dance with me,” you asked breathlessly.
“Wasn’t anticipating that,” he joked with a huff of a laugh. Glancing around the room, he cocked an eyebrow at you as he protested, “There’s no music, love.”
“I don’t care. I want you to hold me in the lamplight,” you confided, as you brushed the hair from his forehead. “Let’s pretend we’re far away from this hospital and this war. We’ll be ordinary people on a date somewhere lovely,” you mused, willing away the growing ache of melancholy within your chest.
Noting the pleading look in your eye, he conceded with a gentle nod of his head, “Alright.”
Extending your hand, you put on your most authoritative voice. “On your feet, soldier,” you commanded playfully. The young man shuffled himself to the side of the bed and you helped him stand, the bullet wounds in his left shoulder and back still not properly healed. You allowed him a moment to find his footing, taking the opportunity to let your hair down from the oppressively tight regulation hairstyle. 
Shaking your hair out with a toss of your head, you proclaimed, “That’s better. Now where were we?” you asked with a smile, before lacing your hands around his neck and beginning to hum. Tommy’s hands wandered across your midsection, finally coming to rest at the swell of your hips. He rubbed soothing circles over your uniform as he swayed with you. Closing his eyes, he savored the smell of your shampoo and the softness of your curls against his cheek as you began to sing softly.
Smile the while you kiss me sad adieu,
When the clouds roll by I'll come to you,
Then the skies will seem more blue,
Down in lovers lane my dearie
He hooked a finger under your chin to capture your attention, the remainder of the lyrics dying on your lips as you studied his earnest expression. “Tell me your name,” he begged. You made a rule early on that you wouldn’t exchange names. It was a necessary precaution as you felt yourself falling for him, but realizing the fleeting time between you.
Although you wanted to tell him that first night you sat by his bedside tending a fever, fearful he might die, you never did. You were glad of it when he woke, blinking at you with dazzling sapphire eyes and engaging you in conversation that left you riveted. There was an instant attraction which you teased forth with a nickname in place of his own, hoping that would thwart any foolhardy notions of this lasting beyond the time he was under your care.
“Soldier, you know I can’t do that,” you said, leaning your forehead against his. 
“Why not? It’s not against the rules to contact you after I leave,” he persisted.
You inhaled a shaky breath as you thought of an answer he would accept without malice. 
“I love you. You can’t deny that you love me too,” he urged, eyes glossy with unshed tears.
You gulped harshly at the sight of emotion from him, unsure how to proceed. Allowing your practicality to win, you hushed him as you denied his request. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you choked out, “Doesn’t matter now that you’re leaving."
“It does to me. I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, setting his jaw sternly.
“You say that now, but when you’re back home, real life will be different. What's between us now will be like a beautiful dream, timeless and unspoiled,” you persuaded. "Don't despair, there will be others,” you said, intending to be hopeful, but falling flat in the delivery.
“Not like you,” he mumbled, a single tear cascading down his freckled cheek. 
You wiped it away with your fingertips, soon replacing your hand with your lips to leave a trail of kisses from his cheek to his jawline. Allowing your head to drift lower onto his mouth, you kissed him with fervor. It was an attempt to demonstrate your feelings physically and he reciprocated immediately, tangling a large hand in your hair. 
No more words were spoken between you as he pushed you onto his bed and undressed you as he’d wished to do many times before. It was under the light of a pale crescent moon and the soft glow of the oil lamp that he made love to you for the first and last time. 
He savored every small sensation as he seated himself inside you, recording each moan and whimper into his brain as you arched off the bed beneath him. It was the most alive he’d been in years, feeling you writhe against him. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have this always. He quickly felt himself unraveling, impending orgasm suddenly crashing over him as he released into you without meaning to. 
In the moment of passion, you clung to him, wrapping your legs around his trim waist to pull him impossibly closer. He brought his lips to yours again as you too came undone, swallowing your cries so as not to be discovered by the night nurse on duty.
The last thing he remembered was collapsing beside you and tugging you toward his chest insistently. The drumming of his heartbeat against his ribs eventually subduing and your gentle breathing lulling him into a peaceful slumber. In the morning, he would wake to an empty bed and his few possessions lovingly packed by the door in anticipation of his departure. It was only then that he forced himself to accept the fact that he would never see you again.
——————————————————————
1922
“Why are we here, Tom?” Arthur grumbled as he downed another drink. 
“There are influential families at this party who can help us,” Tommy grimaced as he downed his whisky in one gulp.
Arthur nudged him as he noticed a woman staring from across the room. “Would she belong to one of those families?” he asked, wondering if his brother had ulterior motives.
Tommy’s eyes scanned the room until he found the lady Arthur had pointed out. The hair was different, but your smile remained the same after all these years. He would have felt the warmth of it from hundreds of miles away. 
“You alright, brother?” Arthur asked.
“M fine,” Tommy mumbled, crossing the room to the woman he’d dreamt about since he left France.
As he approached the small group where you stood, his palms began to sweat. He wasn’t sure what he might say after all this time, but soon found his mouth opening in a formal greeting nonetheless. 
You instantly beamed back at the sight of a familiar face. “Hello, soldier,” you greeted him congenially.
Tommy was taken aback at the familiar salutation you’d given him each morning back in France. Time stood still as he reached for your hand and kissed it gently. “You remembered,” he mumbled.
“I could never forget you,” you replied. It was true that you hadn’t gone a day without thinking of him in the five years since you left his bed that misty November morning. In a hushed voice you added, "There have been many times I wished to talk to you and discuss the events of the day as we used to. It was comforting to me."
Tommy looked away as he felt himself overcome with emotion, remembering how you insisted on remaining a stranger to him. “What are you playing at?” he asked, venom seeping into his voice at the thought of looking weak once more, the way he had revealed himself that last night when he begged to know your name.
You furrowed your brow in confusion at his sudden anger, stuttering in return “N-nothing. I only wanted you to know—“
But he cut you off before you could finish. “To know that I was a fool? I was to think you ever cared for me,” he asserted.
“That’s not true,” you said shaking your head fiercely and feeling your large diamond earrings collide with your neck.
Tommy’s patience was wearing thin now and he contemplated excusing himself from the party altogether until you reached for his arm. Clutching at the expensive material of his tuxedo with your fingertips, you looked into his eyes, your own brimming with tears as you confessed, “I loved you too. I’m sorry I couldn't bring myself to say it then." You shifted your weight uncomfortably as you asked, "Can we start anew?”
He softened at your touch and your admission, a feeling of vindication rushing through his blood. Placing a hand over yours he answered without thinking of his pride, “Yes, I’d like nothing more. Shall we begin with an introduction?” he asked hopefully.
You nodded as you offered the thing he'd wanted most. "Y/n Y/l/n," you replied, holding his gaze. "And you are?"
"Thomas Shelby," he said, standing a bit straighter as he introduced himself. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let me take you somewhere tonight. We'll start over, as you said," he eagerly began.
“It’s not that easy,” you interjected, biting your lip in concern. “I have a new life now that I can't leave at a moment's notice,” you warned him.
He dropped his hand from you instantly, head turning to look around the room as he asked, “You have someone?” 
“Yes,” you hesitantly admitted, watching his jaw clench in frustration.
Placing your hand to his cheek you calmed him with a soothing tone you’d used with wounded men in France. “It’s not like that….not what you’re thinking.”
Tommy jerked away suddenly, biting down hard on his lower lip. “Who is he?” his low voice rumbled with a hint of agression.
You sighed, knowing you had to admit it now before you lost your courage. “His name is William,” you rushed out in a single breath.
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” Tommy admitted.
“It’s time you knew,” you said with a gentle nod.
“Knew what?” he pressed, looking at you with a mix of confusion and concern.
“That you have a son,” you whispered, looking at him with tears spilling past your lashes. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t even know your name.” You hid your face in your hand, overcome with the unburdening of your soul. You’d cried yourself to sleep so many nights wishing you hadn't foolishly insisted on keeping your identities concealed. It had been a harsh few years, relying solely on the generosity of your wealthy parents, but suffering their hurtful opinions on the matter.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Tommy consoled you, cradling you into his strong arms and allowing you to cry into his lapels.
“You don’t hate me?” you sniffed, looking up at him.
“Never…I only hated being apart from you,” he confessed. “Now that I’ve found you, I’ll never let you go,” he swore, raising your chin toward him for a slow, sensual kiss that made your knees buckle.
“You mean that?” you asked with a shuddering breath.
“Of course I do. I only ask one favor first,” he said as he caressed the top of your head lightly.
“What’s that?” you asked with furrowed brow.
“Dance with me,” he said with a wide smile. “Like we did all those years ago.”
“Like ordinary people,” you added, remembering your last night swaying beneath the window of his hospital room.
“Just two ordinary people who found each other again under extraordinary circumstances,” he said, leading you onto the dance floor.
------------------------
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mingtinys · 10 months
Text
[1:36 a.m.]
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pairing : song mingi x gn!reader
angst , hurt / comfort , boxer!mingi
warnings : language , descriptions of wounds & needles , mentions of illegal fighting
word count : 1.3 k
requested ? no
a/n : if you can't tell, the rocky music video still hasn't left my brain
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The moment your door swings open, Mingi's aware you're pissed. And not in the "need a moment to cool off" type of pissed. But in the "Mingi might need to hurry up on writing his Will" type of pissed. The unwavering silence that follows only affirms your anger rests specifically with him.
You don't so much as extend a courtesy invite inside. Already having disappeared down the hall in a split second. Not much sense in exchanging pleasantries when you both know why he's here. The purpling bruises and dark crimson stains on his clothes speak for themselves.
He teeters his weight back and forth between his feet, standing awkwardly at your welcome mat. Was he supposed to follow you? You didn't slam the door in his face, but you didn't exactly tell him he could come inside. He hears rustling coming from your kitchen, then the squeak of a faucet being turned on. Ultimately, he decides to seek you out, limping quite pitifully through your quaint apartment. 
When he finds you, you're at the sink, lathering antibacterial soap between your palms. The dining table in the corner is already set with various first aid supplies, along with two singular chairs facing each other. Mingi takes a seat in one of them and waits.
The silence grows thicker with each minute that ticks by. Becoming so palpable Mingi can taste the bitterness of it on his tongue. Even as you take the seat in front of him and begin working away at his wounds, albeit rather impetuously, you say nothing. Your hard-set eyes and cold demeanor aren't exactly helping to lighten the atmosphere either.
He makes it through the length it takes for you to disinfect his cuts and rub ointment on his bruises. But another few minutes pass as you thread a needle and that's about all Mingi’s patience can tolerate.
"You haven't said anything since I got here."
"Am I supposed to have something to say?"
Your tone is callous. And there's a preparedness to it that makes Mingi think you were expecting him to be the first to cave from the silence.
"You usually– ow!" Mingi yelps as you push the needle through the already inflamed skin of his shoulder. You barely even react aside from a not-so-subtle roll of your eyes. And that simple action kills all hope he has of garnering any sympathy from you this time around.
"You usually do."
You sigh, tying off the thread and cutting it before starting on the next stitch. "I can sit here and lecture you about how dangerous this is. How much I want you to stop. How much it hurts seeing you like this." You don't as much as spare him a glance as you speak. "But you and I both know that won't matter."
Another two sutures down. It hurts more than usual tonight.
You pull the thinly woven thread through one last time for the fourth and final suture. "So no, Mingi, I don't have anything to say anymore."
The urge to ramble off one of his usual apologies surfaces, but your chair screeches back and you're standing before he can even get the word "sorry" past his lips. "And you can keep your shitty apologies to yourself this time." Okay then, Mingi thinks and pulls his lips into a thin line to avoid pushing your buttons any further. He simply sits there, speechless as you slap a thick white bandage over his newly sutured wound and return to the sink to wash your hands of his blood.
Realistically, Mingi knew it'd be only a matter of time before you finally reached your breaking point with him. In all honesty, he's surprised it didn't happen sooner, and now he wonders if he'd mistakenly taken your kindness for granted all those times before. Back when he'd show up bloodied and bruised beyond repair from a fight and you'd greet him with teary eyes and a gentleness he'd never known possible.
You used to kiss his wounds better and massage the soreness from his muscles. Scold him for being so wreckless in between your pleads for him to stop fighting until you inevitably fell asleep in his arms from the exhaustion of it all. Not just slap a bandaid on and call it a night. Treating him like an inconvenience to your life rather than the man you'd claimed to love.
And the worst part of it all? He really only has himself to blame for it.
"Go ahead and get yourself killed in that damn ring if you want. But stop dragging me down with you." Mingi looks up to find you hovering above him, your tired eyes staring back at him expectantly. His gaze falls to your open palm, two ibuprofen in the center of it. You huff when he doesn't move to take them and roughly slap the pills on the dining table. 
"Make sure you lock the door when you leave." With that, you're gone. Hurried steps carry you to your room down the hall. Mingi knows he should say something, preferably something that'll soothe your anger. But all his brain can seem to come up with is, "Can I use your shower?"
"Don't care." You call back, and then your door slams shut.
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Mingi knows he should leave. He's well aware of just how selfish and unfair what he's about to do is. But he can't stop himself. He wants– no, needs you. Because for as many times as he's dragged himself to your doorstep, it's never been your meticulous medical skills that always make him feel whole again after a fight. No. It's the subsequent hours he spends holding you through the night that heal him. Your warm body curled into his side grounding him to some semblance of a normal, white-picket, life.
No, it's not fair at all. Expecting the same treatment as usual despite having already expressed your desire to have nothing to do with him tonight. Yet still, even as guilt floods his veins and the soreness in his shoulder protests his actions, Mingi grips the handle to your room and pulls.
The cold air hits his damp hair, sending a shiver down his spine. It's dark, and you're already bundled up under the covers. Your face is hidden, so Mingi can't tell if you're awake or not. But you don't immediately tell him to fuck off, so he tiptoes quietly around your room, dodging furniture and other objects concealed by the darkness. Even when the bed dips with his weight and he shuffles under the covers behind you, you say nothing.
Gently, Mingi pulls you into him, back against his chest and his arms hugging your torso tightly. And then he hears it. The tiniest of sniffles that escapes your facade of sleep and buries itself deep within his heart.
He curls around you and his lips delicately press against the feverish skin of your shoulder. A guilt-ridden satisfaction wraps itself around Mingi's airway when you flip yourself around and cling to him. The back of his white cotton shirt bundled up in your fists while you gasp and sob into his chest. Your trembling won't stop, no matter how tightly Mingi seems to hold you.
"I can't keep doing this." You confess. "Please, Mingi."
You don't need to verbalize what you're asking for. You've pleaded with him enough times at this hour for Mingi to fill in the blank himself. And Mingi's given the same answer enough times for both of you to know it's a lie. But he says it anyways, hoping it'll bring enough comfort so you sleep through the night.
"This is the last time, I promise."
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moris-auri · 6 months
Text
A revelation in the light of day
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Pairing: Aemond x Wife (she/her)
Summary: When the burden of ruling becomes just a bit too much for the newly named Prince Regent, his wife is left to resort to a different tactic altogether.
A/N; Please please read the warnings!
Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, sub!aemond, praise kink, orgasm delay/denial, overstimulation, teasing, use of she/her, spoilers for Fire and Blood (A Song of Ice and Fire)
word count: 2.8k
taglist: @arcielee @sylasthegrim @lexwolfhale @orcaunionleader @helaelaemond @zae5 @bottlesandbarricades @aemondx @barbieaemond
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Her head felt heavy, almost as if her ears had been stuffed with tufts of wool. It is more than an unpleasant feeling, to say the least. So much so, coupled with the way her mouth tastes of parchment right now, she might have regretted downing two glasses of wine one after another once, but that time is long past. 
In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, the halls of the Red Keep, corridors and passages that once echoed with the joyous squeals of her niece and nephew, have become so hauntingly quiet. A stifling, unnerving quiet as the entirety of the Red Keep falls as silent as a crypt, holding its breath to see if Aegon lived or died. 
Before this, on the nights when sleep evaded them, when he was still a fixed presence in their bed, nights when he had been insatiable and demanding and unyielding. The nights when his hands moved over the curves of her body, breath catching in her throat at the feeling of his fingers, strong, slender and pretty, dancing across her flesh, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake, skirting from ankle to knee to thigh before finding the hem of her shift even in the dark followed by the hot press of his mouth against her cunt as he rucked the fabric around her hips. 
But those nights felt like an eternity ago. 
Now, she can almost count them on each finger, the dwindling number of times she sees her silver haired husband in the wake of the Council naming him Prince Regent in his brother’s stead. As the towering mountain of his responsibilities gets higher and higher, as the pressure and the duty, threatens to crush him beneath the weight of ruling as it has done the countless others before him.    
Like clockwork, it is the same every day, a loop that feels like it is never ending at times when, despite his conscientious efforts to stay quiet, she is almost always woken by the low, groaning creak of their bed as he wakes her with his movements, by the sound of him stumbling around blindly in the dark before the sun has risen. 
She cannot help the resentment that wells inside her as she watches him dress, the sour, ugly thing that she has no name for. The burning, darkened thing that writhes and twists in her gut as she stays silent and still as he kisses her cheek before he’s gone, slipping from the bedchamber like the wraith he was. She almost despises it, this nameless thing that robs her and steals the sweetness of the fruit she eats from her mouth as she breaks her fast with the Dowager Queen hours later, leaving nothing but the taste of ash and smoke behind.    
Her resentment grows when he slips into the bed behind her sometime during the night, pressing the long lean line of his body against hers, before drifting off almost immediately after twining his arms around her, his breath deepening into quiet huffs of air against the shell of her ear as sleep claims him, leaving her to stare up at the canopy over their bed or untangle herself from his hold, bare feet padding silently across the floor to stand before the window, watching the city below. 
**
Her eyes widen, the sight of Aemond seated in one of the chairs situated before the fire more than enough to catch her off guard, more than enough to make her stop, her feet stuck to the floor in the middle of their chamber. “Ābrazȳrys.” Wife. 
It’s something she hasn’t heard in days, this strange word from her husband's ancestral language. Yet the memories it dredges up are more than enough to make her stiffen and make a spark of anger flare in her chest before she opens her mouth to speak. “I did not expect to see you, Aemond,“ she murmurs, feeling her tongue curl around the familiar syllables of his name as it lingers, almost unpleasantly in her mouth.
His countenance is schooled, set into something blank and carefully crafted as he studies her. And If he notices the short, almost stilted tone of her voice, he does not say. He stands, letting the book on his leg thump to the floor as he uncurls himself from the chair to stand over her. 
Ever the dutiful scholar, his blatant disregard for it made her grin with the knowledge she’d affected him so. "Ñuha jorrāelagon,” he murmurs a heartbeat later, his voice a low rumble in his chest. 
Oh, she knows this one. My love. For a brief, fleeting second, she wants nothing more than to grasp at him. To hold his arms or his elbows and kiss away the dark smudges under his eye. Yet to touch him would be for her to give in and admit she has missed his touch. To admit defeat and say that it has not hurt, has not stung. 
And it is something she is far, far too proud to do. Though there have been fleeting times, more than once, when she has wondered how lovely it would be to see him break. To see him the way the gods must have intended. 
"Husband," she says instead, straightening her spine as she, no more than a little spitefully, watches him flinch at the bite in her voice. “What do you want?” 
The urge and the want and the need to snap at him grow as she folds her arms across her chest. She wets her lips, tongue darting out to swipe across her bottom lip as her mouth opens, one eyebrow raised. Yet before she can utter a word, the low glimmer and flash of red comes from her periphery. 
Her eyes flick to the side briefly to see his crown, his brother’s crown, situated atop a cushion on her vanity, the inlaid ruby winking at her as it caught the torchlight. She takes half step closer to stand over it, nose twitching as she stares down at it. 
Up close, it is even uglier than she thought it would be, this relic of the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty. Compared to the brief glimpses she’s gotten of the almost elegant silver and gold crown his father had worn before Ser Erryk had stolen it, the conqueror’s crown is the opposite in almost every way. 
Dark and almost black in color, as if it sucked in light instead of reflecting it, there is nothing even remotely appealing about it, this crown that her husband wears in his brother’s name. Though the longer she looks at the more the very sight of it is more than enough to make her soften slightly, not even wanting to know how heavy it was when he did wear it. 
She turned away from it, closing her eyes as she let out a breath, only for them to snap open a second later as she collided with him, her hands instinctively rising to brace against his chest, the beating of his heart a rapid thud beneath her palm. 
Her eyes flicked up to his as her brows furrowed, not having heard him move closer. Her lips parted as her breath got shallower, and his proximity, no more than a hairsbreadth between them, is enough for her skin to prickle. 
"Being Prince Regent must surely be stressful," she crooned, curling her arms around his waist, cheek pressed against the leather of his tunic. "Let me help you relax, husband." 
She can see the slow stirrings of desire unfurling in his eye like the petals of a flower as his gaze grows more heated by the second. “Please,” she adds, biting her lip as she glances up at him from under her lashes. She lets her hands fall to his sides, thumbs hooking under the edge of his belt. 
His breath stutters in his chest as she does, all but stopping when she leans into him, tilting her head up before pressing a kiss just under his jawline. Teasing him like this is not without its perks, though, and she pulls away just in time to see a ruddy flush rise high on his cheeks, staining his pale skin a pretty shade of red. 
His breathing deepens, growing closer and closer to pants as his composure starts to slip with each second that passes. When the sharp sounds of his breath as he inhales and exhales through his nose grow louder, echoing in her ears like claps of thunder during a storm. 
She knows she has his full attention when his eye drops to the outline of her breasts that the fine, almost sheer fabric of her shift cannot hide. When his chin dips, tucking inward and an expression of lust settles on his face, so wholly unlike his usual aloof stoicism. 
She steps back, lifting one eyebrow as she lets her robe puddle around her feet, feeling her shift slip from one shoulder. "You've been neglecting your marital duties, my Prince." 
It’s not so much an accusation as it is a statement, yet the resentment is more than noticeable when his eye widens at her use of the formal title. One she hadn’t used in what felt like ages, not since the early days and weeks of their marriage, when they’d practically been strangers, tied to each other by a thin strip of fabric and the words of the septon. He licked his lip, swallowing as his eye flicked to hers again, "Tell me what I can do, ābrazȳrys." 
The words slide over her like water, low and rasping and heated enough to make her shift on her feet, feeling the slow licks of pleasure beginning to crawl up her spine, chased by the wave of hunger and arousal that pools low in her stomach, making her voice more than hoarse as she spoke. "Undress, husband." 
He complied almost immediately, his gaze sliding away from her as he lowered his head, his fingers undoing the buckles of his leather tunic with the same, single minded focus he gave to his studies and his sword training. And despite the warmth of the fire behind her, she can still feel the goosebumps that rise on her skin as she watches him shed the rest of his clothing, her eyes lingering on the pile of night dark black against the rosy, almost pink stones. 
The combination of the orange candlelight and the cold glow of the moon glinting off his skin and his hair, turning him from a man, from flesh and bone and heat into a sculpture of hard stone and cold marble makes her breath catch in her throat. It is almost like the same feeling that had stirred inside her the day she saw him in the Sept, a dark, striking figure in Targaryen red and black.     
His eye fixed on her again, the concentrated intensity within it was almost enough to make her knees weak. Almost. Yet she stands tall, straight and stiff backed, no longer the girl she had been, changed in more ways than one by the vipers and snakes and the rats that resided within the Red Keep.  
"Your eyepatch too, my love." Her voice is quiet, gentle, lingering between them as soft as a feather. He hesitated for a moment, as if he was at war with himself, and a second passed before he reached up, fingers closing around it as he tugged the leather away from his face, revealing the length of scar tissue underneath it. 
She remembered the first time he had removed it, the not so faint trembling of his hand as he’d set the square of leather on the low table beside his bed. The first time she had seen the sapphire in his eye socket and the angry, reddened skin around it. How he had exhaled a breath, fighting the desire to flinch away from her when she reached out, curling her hand under his chin to lift his head. You are so very lovely.
The words had hung in the air between them, as heavy as an anchor, cut only by the sounds of their breathing. Before a wave of shyness had swept over her the longer the silence carried on. She had barely set a foot on the stones, shivering at the chill, before his arm wound around her waist, all but tugging her back onto the bed, her yelp silenced by his lips on hers as he kissed her, inexperienced and messy, a tangle of hands and lips and teeth. 
The feelings that he had awoken inside her, the unrelenting and intense feelings and the sensations that his touch had awoken in her increasing with time.   
**
"Look at you," she cooed, knees squeezing the narrow line of his hips as she sat astride him, hands braced on his chest as she rolled her hips, drawing yet another moan from deep within his chest. 
The sounds he made were something she would never tire of hearing. The multitude of noises he made in the privacy of their rooms, his moans and whimpers and his groans, all for her, ragged and wild and feral, sounds that would never to be heard by the ears of another living soul but hers.  
She shifted, sliding her hands higher, brushing them down his shoulders to twine her fingers with his, lifting them before pressing her lips to the jut of his knuckles. His eye, half-lidded and almost black, stared down the length of his body at her, his lip caught between his teeth. 
It is a break they both need, she thinks as she lets go of his hands, ducking her head to press a litany of kisses against the side of his throat, feeling a fresh wave of sweat slide down the back of her neck as she all but collapses on her back beside him. She’s lost count by this point, how many times it’s been. Can’t remember how many times she’s brought him to the edge, only to stop, denying him the release he so desperately sought over and over and over. 
His eye flutters shut, obscuring the pretty hue of his eye as his eyelashes brush the top of his cheek. Gone is the carefully crafted veneer he uses as a shield before the court, shattered and broken by her hands and her mouth. 
"Are you going to beg me, husband?" She teased, grinning wickedly at him, one hand flat on his stomach as she shifted, resting her chin against his stomach, feeling the ache start to grow where his hips pressed against her shoulders. 
His hand twitched, moving to catch in her hair, a brief spark returning to him as he pulled her head back to glare down at her. "Wicked tongued woman," he growled, his eye narrowing with a promise of future retribution as he pulled on the strands of her hair, though not enough to be painful. “You’re playing with fire, ābrazȳrys.” 
“Am I?” She tilted her head to the side, smiling lazily at him, the tip of her finger tracing a path down the ridges of his stomach, stilling dangerously close to his cock. 
"Please," he ground out, his already angular features tightening to the point of severe as his hips bucked beneath her hand weakly, truly desperate now. He jerked, head lifting to stare at her, hips lifting when her knuckles brushed against him, gathering his seed on the pad of her thumb before lifting her fingers to her mouth, keeping her eyes on him, feeling his fingers tighten in her hair as a strangled moan fell from his lips. 
“By the Gods,” he groaned, his head dropping against the pillows, eye squeezing shut when her hand moved again. One careful twist of her wrist and he was done for. He arched upwards, fingers gripping the sheets as the muscles of his stomach and his shoulders tensed, going as taut as a drawn bowstring as he spilled over the back of her hand with a hoarse sound. 
He slumped back against the bedding, dazed and limp. "You did so well," she crooned mindlessly under her breath as she stretched, reaching over him for a cloth, carefully cleaning the remnants of his seed from her hand before tossing it somewhere as she returned her gaze to his face. 
His eye closed again when she brushed the now near sodden strands of his silver hair away from his face, a groan falling from his lips as she twined her fingers into his hair, her nails scraping lightly across his scalp. 
"You never did say why you came," she mused under her breath, glancing at him as she turned on her side, ignoring the sweat on his skin as she pressed her ear against his chest, tracing patterns on his skin with the tips of her fingers, the wild thudding of his heartbeat slowly beginning to even beneath her ear. 
He was silent, having almost no energy to speak a word, the only tell she knew he heard her the slight twitch of his lips. 
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