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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Fae!Price/female reader This is a little piece of Long and Lost from this world.

Inside the pub on main, there is a girl.

She’s a normal girl, to most, perfectly ordinary in nearly every way. She works her job, sees her coworkers, visits the darkly lit bar for a pint every now and then. Within the throngs of people drinking and eating and laughing, she appears like any other. Dark eyes watching the television with mild interest, glancing across other people’s faces politely. A brown coat, dusky orange scarf, a pair of blue jeans. Black leather boots that are scuffed at the toe. She orders a beer, keeps to herself, and minds her manners. She blends in so seamlessly, you’d never take a second look her way if you were in this bar, drinking with your friends, having a laugh.

The only thing that could possibly distinguish her, is the black ribbed turtleneck. The bartender has never seen in her any other shirt, even in the summer. He assumes it’s because she’s a creature of comfort who likes what she likes, the type who enjoys a staple piece. It’s how he thinks of her, whenever she settles herself at his bar. The turtleneck girl.

He doesn’t know the turtleneck hides the most unique thing anyone in this town would ever see. He doesn’t know that the skin beneath her jaw glows with a sea glass green mark, one that calls to a world beyond a veil, that shines like a lighthouse guiding its lover home through treacherous seas. A mark unique in its shape, size and power, unlike any of this realm, or any realm, save for one.

It’s nearly midnight when they arrive.

Almost everyone has gone home for the evening, and only the bartender, the turtleneck girl, and the old man linger.

When the bell chimes, they all glance at the newcomers, and only the girl does not say hello. She does not say anything in fact, choosing to look immediately down into her half empty pint, turning the options over in her mind. The bartender welcomes them, directs them to choose a place a sit, wherever they like, hospitality their kind does not deserve, a truth no one here could know, except for her. The back door is so, so close to where she’s perched, and she could make it, if she ran. If she flew, she could be outside the pub and over the rooftops in seconds, leaving this town to the ash, to the destruction that the 141 will surely wring from its bones, as they do most places, in most realms.

A trace of power slithers across her skin. It’s a probe, an inquiry of some kind, scratching at the shell surrounding her magic, tapping against the ethereal light that sits trapped inside her chest. Her muscles tense, thighs shaking with the effort to hold still, hold her breathe, hold herself at bay. She wants to explode, wants to Shine inside this pub and shred the Fae hunters to pieces, wipe them from this plane of existence and send them back to their own.

They’re war addicted, hungry beasts. They don’t belong here.

But they’re not the only monsters in this room.

She shoves the power away, shoves it as hard as she can, a pulsing shockwave that rattles the foundation, and leaps from her stool, sprinting out the back door, run, run, run-

She makes it as far as the alley before she feels the Prince’s sun kissed whip around her throat, jerking her backwards like an animal, restraints wrapping around wrists and legs, forcing her to her knees.

Maybe if she begs, if she cries, they’ll let her go. They’ll spare her.

“It’s not me.” She croaks, flexing against the sun searing rope that stays taut around her neck. “You’ve made a mistake. Release me.”

“I don’t think so.” The Prince croons, smiling in a sick, sadistic way that turns her stomach. She rails against the binding, straining with everything inside of her, urging her power up through her pores, wings screaming beneath the sinew at her back. Shine, they cry. Shine and blow them all back to Faerie.

It’s no use. She’s no match for a single Fae in this world, let alone four of the most powerful, not with how weak she’s grown.

The Captain settles himself on the pavement, bending at the knees, still straight backed and proud, blue eyes meeting her head on. He’s not afraid, does not tremble, does not falter before her like the others who have tried to collect their bounty have.

“Fuck you.” She sniffs, turning her face away. The other three loom in the background, unmistakable now that they’ve dropped their Glamour.

The Ghost.

The Chaos.

The Prince.

The 141, in the flesh.

The Captain rises to his full height, motioning for the Ghost, some sort of magical bond sizzling through the air, communication that burns in the breeze on this cold winter’s night. “You’re in a lot of trouble, little angel. And so far from home, too.” He cocks his head, arms crossed across his chest, and she snarls, snapping her teeth.

“Keep your cretinous fucking hands off me.” She spits, and John Price only smiles, cupping her jaw in a wide, warm palm.

“No.”

#we love an enemies to lovers in this house #fae!au #fae!Price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price #peaches writes #I really just want to write fantasy books like a loser

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 3 months

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Sweet on You, Chapter 2

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: HERE

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, Idiots to Lovers, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~2800

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! If you'd like to be tagged in this, please let me know.

Divider by @theradioactivespidergwen!

Tag List (struck-through blogs could not be tagged): @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast @peachy-flxwr @sleepysleepymom @fishinsuits @milkbummm

You looked at your phone once again as you headed down the busy sidewalk towards The Brew Towers.

Matthew had messaged you the previous evening confirming your meeting and sending you a description of himself so you'd know who you were looking for in case the café was crowded. I have dark brown hair and will be wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt with a black leather jacket, he had sent.

Okay, you had replied. See you tomorrow.

You had agonized over your own outfit, finally deciding to wear jeans and a sweater since it was the middle of November.

The closer you got to the café the more nervous you became. What if Matthew took one look at you and changed his mind? What if he wanted more than what you were comfortable with giving? What if--

You shook your head. The last thing you needed to do was to give yourself a panic attack, especially over ‘what if s’.

You continued on to the café, taking a deep breath before entering.

You looked around for someone who fit Matthew’s description of himself, finally spotting a dark-haired man sitting alone at a table in the corner.

He was handsome, with a strong, straight nose, plush lips, and eyes that were hidden behind red-tinted sunglasses. That must be him.

You headed over, pausing as you got to his table. “Excuse me, Matthew?”

He looked up at you with a smile and nodded before saying your name questioningly.

You nodded in return. “Yes, hi.”

Matthew stood and stuck his hand out for you to shake. “Hi, it's nice to meet you. And please, call me Matt.”

You took it and gave it a brief shake. “Nice to meet you too, and okay. Matt it is.”

Matt gestured towards the empty chair opposite him. “Here, have a seat.”

“Thank you.” You unwound your scarf and took your coat off before draping both across the back of your chair and sitting.

“How about I go order our coffee?” Matt asked as he remained standing. “What would you like? Anything to eat?”

You eyed the display case of baked goods. In your nervousness you had skipped breakfast, so… “Um, sure.”

You gave Matt your order and he nodded. “Got it. Be right back.”

He took a long white cane out of his jacket pocket and unfolded it, then headed towards the counter to place your orders.

Okay, so that explains the sunglasses indoors, you thought. And probably why he wanted to meet in person to discuss terms rather than hashing it out over DMs.

You waited as Matt placed your orders then returned with a small numbered placard.

“So, um, how are you today?” Matt asked as he sat.

“I'm well,” you replied. “And you?”

“Good, good, yeah…” Matt paused. “Um, thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I've never done this sort of thing before.”

You shrugged. “It’s not a problem.”

“If you don't mind me asking, how long have you been a sugar baby? I'm just curious since you don't seem to fit the typical profile.”

Your hackles raised slightly. “You mean because I'm not a barely-legal teenager with daddy issues?”

Matt chuckled warmly. “Quite frankly, yes, but I promise it's not a bad thing -- In fact, it's one of the main reasons I chose you. I apologize if I came off as judgemental, that wasn't my intention.”

You relaxed at Matt's apology. “I actually prefer the term ‘companion’, if you don't mind.”

Matt shook his head. “Not at all. How long have you been a companion, then?”

“I've been on Sugar and Spice for about four months -- I ran into some financial trouble and found that it was the fastest and easiest way to make some extra money… at least legally, that is.”

Matt suddenly looked concerned. “What kind of financial trouble? That is, if you don't mind me asking. Maybe I can help if it's something you could use some legal advice on.”

You shook your head. “Thank you, but I have it handled. It's actually not even technically my debt – I'm helping my mother out with some medical bills after she got seriously ill and wound up in the hospital. She had lost her job – and subsequently her health insurance – right before she got sick, so now she has to pay all of her hospital bills out of pocket. She can't afford the monthly payments, so I offered to help. It's the least I can do after all the sacrifices she made for me when I was growing up.”

You were fortunate that the hospital had agreed to put your mother on a long-term payment plan without much fuss, so there was no need to get a lawyer involved even if you could afford Matt's services.

You paused as a café employee brought your and Matt's coffee and pastries to you, thanking them before they left. “I don't intend on being a companion forever, just until I get things settled with that.”

Matt took a sip of his coffee. “In that case, shall we discuss business then?”

You nodded. “Why don't you start by telling me a bit about yourself and what your expectations are for this arrangement, especially since you said that this is your first time doing this sort of thing.”

Matt nodded. “Well, as you already know, I'm an attorney with Nelson, Murdock and Page. I'm currently single, but, uh, I guess you probably already figured that out considering the circumstances.”

You shook your head with a wry smile. “I've learned never to assume anything about Sugar and Spice 's clientele. You'd be surprised at how many people frequent the site who aren't actually single.”

Matt chuckled. “Fair enough. My busy lifestyle doesn't really allow for a committed relationship, so I'm looking for someone to fill that role in my life that isn't actually expecting commitment.”

You pursed your lips, unable to help but silently judge Matt. “So you basically just want a friend with benefits.”

Matt shook his head. “No -- well, yes, but -- not exactly?”

He sighed. “I'm honestly just looking for someone to spend time with, someone to accompany me to dinner or a concert or to take a walk and go for coffee with, someone to bring as my plus-one to the occasional work event when necessary. I'm not expecting anything sexual in return -- in fact, I think it's actually best if we'd keep things strictly platonic between us.”

You nodded, relaxing once again. You found it odd that Matt wasn't expecting any sort of ‘sugar’ in return, but then again, to each their own. “Okay, so you actually are just looking for a companion then.”

Matt nodded. “I'd give you a guaranteed monthly stipend in addition to paying for all of our outings, and in the case of a work event I'd arrange a shopping trip for you if necessary.”

“How much of a stipend are we talking about?” You figured it'd be about three or four hundred dollars a month, which was okay with you since that would at least cover the minimum monthly payments on your mother's medical bills.

Matt shrugged. “Let's say… a thousand a month?”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. A thousand dollars a month just to accompany a handsome, rich lawyer to dinner a couple of times a week and the occasional party full of other rich lawyers? At that rate you'd have your mother's medical debt paid off a lot sooner than you originally thought.

Matt must've taken your silence as a rejection, because he added, “unless that's too low? Like I said, I've never done this before so I don't exactly know what the going rate is for something like this.”

You quickly shook your head. “Uh, no, no, I think I can agree to a thousand dollars a month.”

Matt smiled, looking relieved. “Great! I'd like to have something in writing, so would you mind swinging by my office on Monday?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

Matt took his wallet out and extracted a business card. “Here's the address.”

You took the card and looked at it.

You nodded. Matt's office wasn't too far from your own. “Okay, yeah. It'll have to be late afternoon, though. Is a little after 5 o’clock okay with you?”

Matt nodded in return. “Yeah, that's fine.”

“Okay, good.” You pocketed Matt’s card.

Matt broke off a piece of the croissant he had ordered and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “So are you from New York?” he asked after he had swallowed and took a sip of his own coffee.

You nodded. “Yeah, born and raised here in Hell's Kitchen. You?”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Where'd you go to school?” You didn't recall there being any blind students at your school when you were growing up, but then again you had been so focused on your studies in order to try to make your mom proud that you didn't really notice much else.

Matt shook his head. “I was mostly homeschooled.”

“Oh, okay. Nevermind then. I thought maybe we had gone to school with each other since we're both from here.”

Matt bit his lip as if he was contemplating his next sentence. Finally, he said, “My mom left not long after I was born, so my dad raised me. He, uh, he always said that it was important that I get a good education so I wouldn't have to struggle to make ends meet like he did, so after I graduated high school I went to Columbia and got my law degree.”

You took a bite of your own pastry. “He must be really proud of you for becoming a lawyer then.”

Matt shook his head. “He died when I was 9.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my God, I'm so sorry.”

Matt shrugged. “It's ok, you didn't know. What about you though, do your parents still live around here?”

You nodded. “It's always been just me and my mom, but yeah, she doesn't live far from here.”

You paused as your phone began to ring, Mom flashing across the screen. “Oh and actually that's her. I'm sorry, I’ll just be one second.”

Matt nodded. “No problem.”

You quickly swiped to answer. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi honey,” your mom replied. “Are you busy?”

“Uh…” You glanced over at Matt. “I'm out having coffee with a friend, but what's up?”

“Oh, well I was wondering if you wanted to come by for lunch tomorrow. I found this new recipe I wanted to try and it's been a while since we've cooked together.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. What time do you want me over?”

“Would 11:30 work for you?”

“That'll be fine. Need me to bring anything?”

“No, I think I have everything I need for it. I'll let you get back to your friend, see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow, Mom. Bye.”

“Bye, honey.”

You hung up. “Sorry about that.”

Matt shook his head. “It's no problem. So, you and your mom are pretty close, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah, we are. And actually that reminds me, how are we handling this? Because I’m gonna have to tell her eventually that I’m seeing someone.”

Matt hummed. “I don't suppose she knows about your job as a ‘companion’ then.”

You shook your head. “She thinks I got a raise at my day job, and I'd really rather her not find out the truth or else she'll refuse to let me keep helping her out.”

Matt chewed on his lip as he thought. “Honestly I think it's best if we keep our arrangement under wraps, so we could just tell people we're dating since you'll be accompanying me to work events and things like that.”

“Okay.” You took another bite of your pastry. “So then how'd we meet since we can't really tell people we met on Sugar and Spice ?”

Matt shook his head with a smile and waved a hand around the café. “Well, since the most believable lies at least have a kernel of truth to them, how about a coffee shop?”

He took another sip of his coffee. “We struck up a conversation in line and decided to sit together since it was busy, and by the time we left I had asked you out for dinner.”

You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. That way the timeline will still fit.”

“How about dinner on Monday, then? We can meet at my office, sign the contract, then go somewhere nearby?”

“Okay.” Unless Matt chose a fancy steakhouse or something for your regular work attire would suffice.

“Great. How does Asian fusion sound?”

“Yeah, that's fine.”

You and Matt continued to talk for another hour as you got to know each other, finally exchanging phone numbers as you were both leaving. “It's easier for me to communicate this way,” Matt explained as the two of you walked outside. “Unless you'd prefer to use the website?”

You shook your head. “No, that's fine. I can't exactly check my S&S messages while I'm at work anyway.”

Matt handed you his phone so you can input your number. “Okay great. Thanks.”

You input your contact information then quickly sent yourself a text so you'd have Matt's number before handing his phone back to him. “So I'll see you Monday afternoon, then?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, Monday.”

“Okay.” You weren't sure if you were supposed to shake Matt's hand or give him a hug or what, so you settled for an awkward wave then mentally cringed at yourself for waving at a blind man. “Well, thanks for breakfast.”

Matt shook his head. “No problem.”

“Okay, bye.” You turned and headed back to your apartment, silently hoping that you'd actually made the right decision.

Matt pocketed his phone as you walked down the street, waiting until you had turned the corner before unfolding his cane and heading in the opposite direction back to his apartment. You had seemed nice enough – over the past couple of hours he had learned that you had graduated from NYU and were currently working as an administrative assistant at an architectural firm not far from Nelson, Murdock, and Page, but that your dream actually lay in historical preservation.

“There's just something comforting about stepping into an old building that's been restored to its natural splendor,” you had said. “Being transported back to a simpler time, where we didn't have to worry about alien invasions or crime-fighting vigilantes wearing red Spandex.”

Matt had chuckled. His Daredevil suit was actually made from a material akin to Kevlar, so it wasn't exactly stretchy or comfortable, but it wasn't like you knew that. “So I take it you don't approve of Daredevil then?”

You had taken a sip of your coffee before answering. “ Actually, quite the opposite. I feel like the streets have been a lot safer since he's shown up, especially at night. Daredevil’s doing a better job of protecting this city than the police department is.”

Matt had nodded. Patrolling Hell's Kitchen as Daredevil was about more than dismantling Fisk’s empire and getting the cartels off the streets, it was about protecting people from low-level criminals as well. “Yeah, I get that.”

Once Matt reached his apartment he sat down on his couch then picked up his laptop. Might as well start drafting the contract while the terms are fresh in my mind.

He paused when he reached the part regarding his payments to you, then after a moment he pulled up your Sugar and Spice profile before sending you the note, I had a great time this morning along with $200.

When you had balked at his offer of $1,000 a month he immediately thought that he had lowballed you and was fully prepared to double it, especially since out of all of the profiles he had gone through on Sugar and Spice, you had been his only choice of ‘companion’.

He didn't know what he had expected your reasoning behind joining the site to have been, but it certainly hadn't been because you were helping your mother with hospital bills. I wonder how much she owes.

He figured it must've been a fairly substantial amount since not only did your mother have to foot the bill herself due to losing her health insurance just before going into the hospital, but also because of the lengths you were willing to go to help her pay it.

Matt finished drafting out the contract before reading it over using his text-to-speech app and nodding in satisfaction.

He saved it then sent it to his work email, certain that he had made the right decision.

#lotmf writes #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x you #Sweet on You Masterlist

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lyrabythelake · 5 months

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Have a very unfinished fic I began for fun starring Four and Warriors

Four started it.

Enemy defeated, worlds saved, the heroes were wandering Hyrule with weighted footsteps in unspoken suspense for that last portal that would send them their separate ways.

Except time drew thin, the portal never came. By the time they reached the inn, they counted an entire month treading a land unfamiliar to all of them but Legend without clear purpose or direction. It was driving them all a bit insane.

So when Four slipped the innkeeper a small, rectangle piece of parchment from the top of a stack tied carefully in twine, Warriors latched onto it as a single, tiny mystery to be solved in a whirlwind of boredom.

“Can I see that?” he asked, eyeing the papers Four was hastily shoving back into his bag. The innkeeper slid his own under the bar after studying it with vague interest.

Four’s face grew red but he handed them over without further persuasion.

A neat border of repeating patterned inked swords framed the words:

Heroes for Hire Evil warlord got you down? Monsters driving you mad? We’re here to help. (Additional services include smithing, cooking, sailing, pot clearance and more)

“I just thought we could all do with a project or two. I think everyone’s been feeling a bit… lost these days.” Four rushed to explain.

The night before, Wild had used his fusion ability to attach a block of butter to one of his shields then slid around the camp on it for two hours. ‘Lost’ was probably an understatement.

“You know what?” Warriors said cheerfully, handing the card back, “I think it’s a really good idea.”

Warriors had slipped over three times while getting ready that morning; Wild had turned their entire camp into an oily booby trap.

Fours face grew even redder.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I think what we’re lacking is a sense of purpose, you know? We all miss our homes and this could give us a good distraction.”

They didn’t really talk about why they were still here all that much. None of them were the type to air the worries and concerns out in the open, but they all knew they were thinking the same thing. It was as if the Goddess had abandoned them here now they had fulfilled their usefulness. She couldn’t even be bothered to get them all back to where they belonged.

“How many people have you given these to?”

“Just that innkeeper,” Four said. “And one of the farmers we passed on the outskirts of the village.”

No sooner had he spoken those words than a young boy ran into the inn, eyes huge beneath windswept hair.

“Are you the heroes for hire?” he asked, his breath catching between words.

With an impressive swish of his scarf and a blinding smile, Warriors stood before him.

“Why yes, as a matter of fact, we are.”

“At your service,” Four added, if only to prevent Warriors from taking complete control over the idea that was Four’s in the first place.

“You gave my father your card earlier,” the boy said. “The Zora have flipped our sheep again. Dad said he’ll give you two blue Rupees if you give us a hand putting them right before it gets dark.”

“Did you say the sheep were flipped?” Four asked. Warriors elbowed him hard.

“We’re happy to help.”

“This isn’t really what I had in mind,” Four told Warriors as they strained to heave the third sheep onto its feet. “Why do Zora even do this, it seems very petty.”

“Legend said there’s been civil war between the Zora and Hylians for hundreds of years around here. It’s mostly died down now, but Hylians still fish in Zora territory so the Zora do things like turning sheep upside down to show their defiance.”

“Still, it’s not exactly the ‘evil warlords’ I was expecting”

“Patience, my small friend!” Warriors declared just as they managed to push the sheep onto its feet, “everyone must start somewhere and our business is only a few hours old after all. Small beginnings make for the best hero agencies, as they say.”

“You just made that up,” Four muttered dispassionately.

#lyra writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu four #lu warriors #this is very very silly #I hope you enjoy #I found it in my drafts and will probably never finish it #imagine the others join in and they do sidequests for the rest of their lives proffessionally

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luimagines · 1 year

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Magical girl Sky notices Reader shivering while getting ready for bed (at a typical chain camp or elsewhere, up to you) and wraps them up in his wings and cuddles them to sleep.

- Glitter ✨

This is going to be targeted. If you know, you know.

Enjoy.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You were waiting on your balcony.

You doubted he was going to show up tonight but you wanted to talk. Not about anything important, mind you. It was nothing serious. But you found yourself missing his company and well... it’s not like you wanted to burden your roommate with this.

They would only tease you anyway- even if it’s with the best of intentions.

You sighed and let another shiver run through you. It was late and your tea had long gone cold. He wasn’t coming. It was time to get under the blankets before you got sick.

You turned and went into the apartment. Putting your cup in the sink and letting some clean water run through it to dilute it, you rationalize that you’ll clean it tomorrow. Phoenix isn’t coming tonight. He has own life besides being a hero. Not to mention that there’s a lot of people who would want to have his attention anyway. Who are you? Just some coffee shop owner.

You shake your head and leave back to your room. You turn the lights off and move the blankets to get in bed.

Wait.

You groan loudly and get out of bed, turning the lights on once more. You left your book and contracts out on the table. If you lose those, it’s going to take months to get them back in order and they’re needed next week for your remodeled café.

You head out and pick them up, checking them to make sure that no stray paper has been wisped away by the wind.

There’s one gone.

You groan even louder. It sounds like a gunshot in the quiet of the night. “Great. Just what I needed. That took two weeks to get. How am I going to get it in four days?”

“Looking for something?” A voice quips.

You yell and drop the papers. Phoenix drops quickly and puts a hand on the file to keep the paper from falling all over the place- and more horrifying- from being scatter throughout the entire city.

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. He holds up the missing document. “I caught this as I flew by. I thought you were asleep.”

“Almost.” You sag your shoulders. “You caught me just in time.”

You ignore the chill in your bones that hasn’t dispersed yet. That’s what you were hoping the blankets would do.

Phoenix holds it out to you and gingerly take it, putting it back in the manila folder. “Thank you.”

He nods. “Any thing for my favorite civilian.” He bows comically.

You roll your eyes. “Do you say that to every civilian?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I hardly talk to the civilians. You know that.”

You do know that. In fact, you called him out on it when he first showed up at your side to talk to you about your wrecked shop.

You blush, not able to come up with a come back in time. “Well.... shush.”

You sneeze.

Phoenix’s teasing smile drops and he reaches forward. “Hey, you ok?”

His hands touch your cheek. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. You smack his hands away and hiss but it’s too late. Phoenix blinks and rubs his fingers together. “You’re freezing. How long were you out here for?”

“It’s-”

“I kept you waiting...” He says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You instantly say. Because it is. Because you find that you don’t actually care. “You’re here now aren’t you?”

“You should sleep-”

“No.”

“You’re going to get sick like this.”

“I’m fine.” You sneeze again, not able to stop the following shiver in time.

Phoenix’s scarf flaps behind him and reaches forward. It’s warm and soft. You never understood how exactly it managed to function like wings to allow him to fly- but that’s not what’s on your mind. Your fingers gingerly trance the inside of the clothes before it tightens around you and begins to move.

You try to fight it.

“Hey! Let me out!”

You’re dropped back onto your bed. Phoenix looks unimpressed. He retracts his scarf and puts his hands on his hips. “The blankets are messed up.” He says quietly. “You were already in bed.”

“I had to pick up the documents anyway.” You snap.

Phoenix shakes his head. “Goodnight, My Dear. Don’t let me keep you.”

“No!” You reach out- just missing his sleeve. He pauses for you anyway. “You just got here. Don’t go yet.”

He pauses. “Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I know... just... I wanted to talk to you.” You falter. You weren’t intending on being that honest.

Phoenix blinks. “Oh?... Uh... About what?”

“I dunno.. anything.” You shrug.

“...”

“...Move over.” Phoenix taps your shoulder and climbs into your bed next to you. “I don’t trust you to actually go to sleep if I leave you.”

“Oh please- there are better ways too-” You get cut off. His wings are back and they wrap around you again. They’re warm.

You trace your finger over them and the lines of his scarf. “How does it do this?”

“Magic.” Phoenix snorts. “How was your day?”

You pause and look back at him. He’s laying down, in your bed, with his elbow in the pillow and his fist against his cheek. One of the winds moves to brush a bit of your hair away from your face.

You snuggle deeper into the covers, suddenly not as cold anymore. “A bit boring but productive.”

“Can’t argue with those.” He grins.

You smile back and yawn. “What about you?”

“Do you want the short story or the long?”

“Long. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu sky #modern au #magical girl au #do you all like these little inverse teasers?#I'm having a blast world building #Phoenix is his super hero name #but I promise it's all Sky #secret identities haven't been exposed yet in this case

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bigein · 1 year

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ooh have you given any appearance headcanons on ireland and wales before? if not I'd love to know what you think these darling boys look like. also just more ireland content in general im literally addicted at this point you've got me hooked with your good writing of him <3

I have! They are somewhere on my main but the search function has once again failed to deliver. I'll preface this by saying that my headcanons predate the canon confirmation by a good handful of years but there are a few things form the canon that I've slowly baked in:

Ireland (Sean) I have always imagines as tall and slender; lanky in his youth and wiry now. He is functional muscle in its most ridged form, pockmarks and valleys of scars form years spent as a mercenary and the quick grace of a dance. He has a wide, generous smile and eyes like a fox, quick-witted and warm. His lips are chapped more often than not and his pockets lined with every kind of knick knack (including beeswax balms from Arthur's garden for his split callouses and lips). History has given him the hands of an artist, long fingered and nimble, and the ear of a musician. I will stand by my headcanon of Ireland as a medic and a jack of all trades in his spare time forever. Copper bright hair, cropped short at the nape, and meadow green eyes, freckled and boisterous and bold. At first glance people do not think of him as handsome but he is, in his own way, with the experience in his eyes and the liveliness of his expressions. He dresses is practical clothes and thickly-knit jumpers; there are always a pair of novelty welly boots and an ugly misshapen scarf by his front door (courtesy of Daffyd). He has a deep fondness for the stars and travel and a perfect sense of direction. He half kneels to talk to children and keeps every piece of furniture Alasdair gifts or fixes for him. The knees of his trousers are always damp or stained.

Wales (Daffyd or Dai) has a thicket of golden brown curls and brown eyes and freckles only faintly, mostly on his shoulders and back. Arthur has an inch or so on him but you would never know from the way Dai carries himself. Unassuming but confident and with an easy charm and deep, open kindness than seems at odds with the brasher personalities around him. He has a will like iron and an unmatchable resilience. Slow to anger and loyal he can carry a grudge for centuries (see his grudge against Francis here). His cheeks are round and his shoulders broad; his hips and stomach giving. They all think he is the strongest out of the bunch for the simple fact that he is the most willing to forgive himself and others first. An atrocious knitter that takes his failures in good nature until slowly (over something like four decades) he improves. Dai has a voice like poetry and perfect pitch; a born singer and sound advisor that is as inclined to diplomacy as he is to harmless gossip (these days at least; he has always traded in information and secrets, understanding where true power lies). If Arthur is not stealing Alasdair's clothes he is stealing Dai's and you can always tell-- he dresses in brighter tones and mismatched patterns that seem to suit him and no one else. He pays the most mind to his shoes and although he only owns a few pairs they are all good quality. Dai blushes as easily as Arthur but is entirely unselfconscious about it. He smells like rosin and warm cologne; sometimes a little like the hills of his home and the clean air of the valleys. If he could, he would be a lecturer or a tutor, and drives where his patience is rewarded.

#i also love ireland and i'm here for the ireland love #i love to give each of them something they love to do but are TERRIBLE at until they work at it #these boys put in the effort #hws wales #hws ireland #aph wales #aph ireland

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levi-supreme · 2 years

Text

Rei's Birthday Event: A walk in the park with Levi

Characters: Levi x fem!reader

Genre: Modern!au

Warnings: SFW, fluff. Reader insert (y/n). Levi and reader are in their early 30s. Brief mentions of Erwin and Hange.

Word count: 3k

A/N: This request was made by my lovely sister-in-law @ack3rlady and oh boy, my heart was sooooooo soft while writing this!!! Thank you for sending this my way <3 this may have been fuelled by suit Levi hehe.

Also, there's one mention of a coffee place and I'm making one tiny reference to my own writing lol, and one tiny reference to a movie I love watching!!

Read the original request here.

It had been about five months since you and Levi started seeing each other, and there was no doubt in denying the feelings you had for him.

You got to know Levi through your colleague, Hange Zoe. They were supposed to attend a high school gathering with three others, but one of them couldn't make it last minute. Hange was fretting since they already booked dinner for four, and you told them you didn't mind joining.

In fact, you were glad you offered to join, because that was the day you got to know Levi. On the day of the dinner, you were introduced to Hange's two other friends: Erwin Smith, and Levi Ackerman. Erwin Smith was handsome and charismatic, his towering height and strong build were accented by his well-fit jacket and clothes, his chiseled jaw matched his powerful stare. Levi Ackerman on the other hand was below average in height and he had a permanent scowl on his face. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and he consistently gave off a really intimidating aura, speaking less than 10 sentences since you and Hange entered the restaurant. Yet, you found yourself being unable to take your eyes off Levi.

Despite his unfriendly demeanour, you took the first step and introduced yourself to Levi, offering your hand to him for a handshake. Levi was obviously taken aback by your act; he didn't expect anyone to pay attention to him when someone as charming as Erwin was in the room.

Hange and Erwin could somehow tell that Levi was interested in you too. In fact, anyone who could call themselves 'friends' with Hange would definitely pique Levi's interest; he never understood how people could tolerate someone as insufferable as Hange. What started as a high school gathering between friends ended with you and Levi exchanging contact details, and promising another opportunity to see each other again.

Indeed you felt a little intimidated by Levi's stern and emotionless face when you first got to know him, but soon you learnt that underneath his tough exterior was a man with a warm and pure heart.

Levi's face was always etched in a permanent scowl, yet you couldn't never forgot the look of kindness you once saw on his face. It was your second date with Levi, and while he was walking you home, he stopped in his tracks, saying he heard some cries. You followed Levi's footsteps and found a puppy abandoned by a rubbish dump; smelly, shivering, and whimpering in pain. Levi removed his scarf and protectively wrapped the puppy up, feeding the little guy some water while waiting along the roadside till the 24hr animal rescue staff took custody of the abandoned puppy. Levi had a small build, but he had such a big heart.

Levi always seemed to be stoic and nonchalant, yet you remember very clearly how he acted when he was flustered. The both of you were watching a midnight blockbuster during a date, and you shared a bucket of large popcorn. The accidental touches of both your fingertips left you feeling like you were constantly being shocked by electricity, the slight biting of your lower lip to hide your smile made you wonder if Levi was also feeling like this. The caramel popcorn suddenly didn't taste as sweet as it did. While inside the lift, both your hands grazed past each other again, and as you jumped in shock, Levi instead wrapped his hand around yours, fingers closing the gaps in between. While he didn't look at you, you could see a faint hint of red flooding his cheeks. You looked down at your feet and held Levi's hand a little tighter; you wanted this moment to last a little longer.

Levi was a man of little words, yet you remembered how safe you felt in his arms. On your eighth date with Levi, the both of you decided to go to a pub to unwind and celebrate a long weekend. You unfortunately got cat called outside the pub while you two were leaving. Levi instinctively held you close to him, throwing daggers at whoever was looking and hurling nasty comments towards you. A group of men, however, decided to try their luck. They cornered the both of you, yet Levi never backed down. He threatened the group of men who were twice his size, only to have them losing pathetically to Levi in a fist fight. And on that day, you learnt that despite his calm and collected demeanour, Levi would never hesitate to protect the people he cared about.

Perhaps, the day you realised you had undeniable feelings and attraction for Levi was after the third month of dating. It happened in late March, during a spring picnic with him. Under the light spring breeze, the both of you were enjoying a quiet afternoon under the sakura trees. As the wind blew, sakura petals started falling everywhere, landing on the picnic mat, the food you brought, and also in your hair. Gingerly, Levi reached closer and stretched his hand outwards. You froze in place, unsure of what to do as heat started flooding your being. Levi's fingers softly brushed past your hair, until you felt his fingertips gently grazed your ear. You touched your ear afterwards, and learnt that Levi tucked a fallen sakura flower in your hair. You could still feel the heat in your cheeks and the ghost of Levi's touch.

"You look better like this," Levi muttered after a while, and all you could manage was give him a nod and a small smile, feeling your heart about to leap out of your chest. It was like a thousand ants were crawling all over your skin, and suddenly, the air around the both of you felt sweeter than honey.

Through the daily exchange of 'good morning' and 'sweet dreams' texts, the promises of 'see you again', and wishing time would stop whenever you were together, you couldn't pinpoint exactly when, but perhaps, it was that fateful day when you realised that you had fallen head over heels for Levi Ackerman.

Five months time down the road, your feelings for Levi grew stronger and it was starting to consume you whole. You wake up every day in anticipation of seeing Levi's messages from the previous night, you go to bed with thoughts of Levi in your head. You were sure of how you felt about Levi, but what about him? You couldn't tell at all. Levi hasn't made any move, the both of you haven't even kissed yet. You often wondered if Levi felt the same way.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

It was a lovely Saturday night when Levi and you went for a dinner date. Levi told you dress up in something nice; it was to celebrate his promotion at work, and the company celebratory dinner was to be held at the high-end Rosé.

"I have to be in a damn suit, so, I don't know, maybe just wear a nice dress to match." Levi told you on the phone one day. You felt like a bundle of nerves. You've seen Levi in his work attire and casual clothing, but never in a formal suit before. You only hoped your outfit that day matched up to Levi.

Levi picked you up at 6pm sharp that evening, and when you saw Levi appearing by your doorstep looking absolutely exquisite in a charcoal coloured three-piece suit, you knew this man was a gem you had to keep. Levi's suit fit him to a T, the lines and edges of his outfit only emphasised his toned physique. His shoes were extra polished and his decision of wearing a fedora with his suit made him look like a nobleman in the 1920s.

Levi couldn't take his eyes off you the moment you opened the door as well. Your hairdo sleek and your makeup simple, the neckline of your dress accentuated your sharp collarbone. Your scent was alluring, and your skin was radiant. Levi was awestruck, he was enthralled.

"You look stunning." Levi simply said as he offered you his hand. With shaking fingers, you placed them in his palm as you exited and locked the doors, muttering a small word of 'thanks', not forgetting to tell Levi how handsome he looked as well.

"You look like you just finished shooting a scene from Kingsman," you joked and headed for the lift together. Levi merely shook hid head and sniggered, leading you to his car and driving to the restaurant.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

As dinner ended, Levi asked if you would like to join him on a walk at the nearby park. You gladly agreed, welcoming the idea of spending time with Levi under the cooling night breeze. Under the waning moonlight, the grey-blue in Levi's eyes looked brighter than the twinkling stars in the sky. Levi kept his hands in his pocket, walking silently by your side as you looked up above, enjoying the sounds of nature as the both of you walked.

"Achoo!" You let out a small sneeze, embarrassed that it ruined the serene moment between the both of you. You should've brought along a shawl or a cardigan, knowing how cold the night might get. As you took out a piece of tissue, Levi shrugged out of his blazer and gently wrapped it around your shoulders. The warmth of musk and something more enveloped you, causing a small rush of heat creeping up your cheeks. Wordlessly, Levi held out his hand and you stared at him for a while before passing your clutch bag to him and your hands slid into the larger sleeves of his blazer. Oh, how warm you felt the moment you buttoned his blazer up, how dizzy you got when you took a deep breath, inhaling the musky scent you knew solely belonged to Levi.

"I should've reminded you that it would be cold. My bad, y/n," Levi looked at you apologetically. You shook your head instead, giving him a small smile.

"I should've expected it to be cold. Don't worry, I'm f–achoo!" you sneezed again, pinching your nose and nearly falling. Levi hurried forward and held your waist, supporting you as you blew your nose again. You thanked him and hoped that you wouldn't sneeze again. Levi let out a sigh.

"Wait here."

Before you could say anything, Levi dashed off somewhere and left you under a street lamp. You took a seat on a nearby bench, wondering what Levi was up to. He seldom said what was on his mind, and even though you thought you had a good idea on how to read him sometimes, he still left you with many question marks.

While you waited by the bench, the seconds turned to minutes. You looked at your watch impatiently, hugging Levi's blazer around yourself tighter. Where was he?

As though he could read your mind, Levi appeared a distance away, holding on to a paper cup. He had another hand behind his back, and you couldn't tell what was he hiding. Levi gave you a small smile and he jogged towards you.

"Everywhere was closed, and I couldn't find anything hot," Levi placed the cup in your hands. As you opened the lid, it was a cup of steaming hot chamomile tea. "I hope you don't mind Starbucks." You giggled. Levi hated buying from chain coffee joints like Starbucks, and you could only imagine the disgusted look he had on his face while he was queuing up. Yet, even though you haven't had your drink yet, your heart already warmed up at the thought.

"Yeah, I don't," you took a sip of tea, letting out a satisfied sigh. "thanks a lot, Levi, you didn't have to do this." You gave him another smile and continued taking tiny sips of the hot beverage, trying to peak behind Levi to see what else was he hiding. Maybe an after-dinner snack, perhaps?

Levi merely grunted after hearing you, scratching his nose and he looked like he had something to say.

"U-uh, y/n."

"Hmm?" You glanced at Levi after hearing him call you, and what met your eyes was a bouquet of beautiful red tulips. Your eyes widened as Levi nervously bit his lip. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, and you were stunned. You never expected Levi to pull a stunt like this.

"W-wow, they're really gorgeous, I—" you hastily placed the cup of tea on the bench and accepted the bouquet from Levi. Your hands were shaky again, and you knew they weren't from the cold night wind. "thank you, Levi. You really didn't have to. It must have cost a lot."

"It's nothing. I, uh, I h-have something to, um, say to you and—" Levi let out a cough and loosened his necktie, avoiding your eye. You could tell. He was nervous about something. He never stuttered when he spoke. Levi's demeanour was making you feel anxious as well. He continued staring at his own feet.

"I know it hasn't been long since we knew each other, but this has been in my mind for a while, and if I don't say it now, I don't know when I will." Levi took a deep breath and looked at you.

"I love you."

Silence.

You thought you heard wrong. Levi continued looking at you with earnest, giving you a shy smile.

"You might think I sound like a creep right now, but what I said is true. I never expected myself to fall for you, or anyone else for the matter of fact, but somehow, I just did.

"In all honesty, I wasn't expecting anything, I'm not expecting you to even return my feelings. You would've heard the shit Hange told you about me. I believe in logic more than emotions, I trust myself more than anyone else. Yet, ever since I got to know you, it's like my head and my heart don't synchronise anymore.

"I didn't know what it was about you, but every encounter with you made me crave for more. Every moment with you never seemed enough, and every time we said 'goodbye', it only made me look forward to the next 'hello'. It took me a while to finally come to terms with what I was feeling, but I have to admit it. I-I think I've fallen in love with you, y/n."

You remained silent, you didn't know what to say. You were afraid that you would ruin the moment. No one said anything for a long while. The corner of Levi's lips started falling. Oh no. Say something, quick!

"L-Levi, I—"

"It's okay, y/n, you don't have to say anything," Levi cut you off with a sad smile. "It's probably just my wishful thinking." No. No! Levi, you've got it all wrong!

"No, wait, Levi, list—"

"Shh. It's fine. Don't apologise."

"Listen to me, Levi, I'm not—"

"I said it's fine. Just throw the flowers away or some—"

"Levi!" You raised your voice and Levi jumped, not expecting that huge of a reaction from you.

"I'm not throwing these flowers away, Levi. Red tulips represent feelings of love, don't they?" You gave Levi a smile and closed the distance between you and him. "They represent your feelings for me, and I am accepting them with my whole heart." Levi's eyes widened as your face became closer.

"I love you too, Levi," you told him shyly, feeling a rush of happiness flow through you after getting the words out of your chest. While Levi was least expecting it, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cold cheek. Levi touched the spot you just kissed and blinked dumbly.

"Oh." Levi realised how stupid he must have sounded moments ago, and his face turned into a fiery shade of scarlet.

"Fuck, y/n, I'm sorry for earlier. I th-I thought you were going to reject me or something," you grabbed his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze and a little smile.

"You're so unpredictable sometimes, Levi, but I guess that's your charm point, huh?" You joked, turning back to the bench to take your now-cold chamomile tea. Suddenly, there was no need for it anymore. With one hand holding Levi's while the other hugged the tulip bouquet and the cup, you felt even warmer than before. Levi and you walked back to his car hand in hand, a soft smile hanging on your face.

The drive back to your place felt a little different from usual. Levi held your hand in his as he drove, the soft tunes from the radio played in the background as you both kept your conversation light-hearted. A lingering question in your head made you fidget around in your seat.

"So..." you changed the topic after Levi told you a funny story about Hange, Erwin, and their other high school friend Mike. "What are we?"

"Huh? What?"

"As in, what's our status now? Boyfriend-girlfriend, dating, partners, lovers, or, you know..."

"Tch," Levi scoffed hearing you. "We're a little too old to be using nicknames, aren't we?" You laughed along, realising how weird the terms sound.

"Maybe, yeah. Let's just be 'lovers' then," you uttered under your breath and quickly looked away bashfully, thoroughly aware of what you just said. 'Lovers', huh? Sounds kind of nice.

"Hmm. Yeah. I like that better." Levi glanced at you and squeezed your hand again, looking back in front with a satisfied grin. A moment later, Levi brought your hand close to his lip, and very briefly, he placed a featherlight kiss to the back of your hand. You felt your heart beating wildly against your chest, you suddenly didn't feel like going back home just like that.

As Levi walked you back to your doorstep, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, albeit a little unwilling. It was like you didn't want to say goodbye yet. Your hand clutched the bouquet of tulips and you took another deep breath, inhaling the musky scent from Levi's blazer. As you held onto the doorknob, you turned around and looked at Levi.

"Well?" Levi leaned against your doorframe. "Go on in. Good night, y/n." His eyes were twinkling, like he was anticipating something. You gripped the doorknob tighter, your voice quivered as you spoke.

"D-do you... w-would you like a drink?" Would you like to stay the night?

"Sure," Levi grinned and answered without hesitation. He walked himself into your unit and removed his shoes. Hanging his fedora by your coat stand, Levi unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up, taking the tulip bouquet away from your arm.

"I'd love to."

Yes it is implied that reader invited Levi up for drinks aka alcohol, so that Levi would stay the night since he can't drive after drinking alcohol. Also... it is up to you to imagine what happens at reader's place after they drink... hehe

Tagging: @levi-lover @ack3rlady @hashaneeee @roralore @imkumichan @kristinecharmm @notgoodforlife @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @evas-leslas @sweet-assh0le @hannie2kay @ack3rlevi @levislovingwife @galactict3a @hauntedhousecat @sckerman @thesimpsstuff @ackermandick @greenfurret @jayteacups @nelapanela94 @postwarlevi @levisbrat25

Rei’s Birthday Event master list | Rei’s Springtime Event grand master list

Event tag list | Rei’s tag list

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yakumtsaki · 2 years

Photo

By popular demand of the two Wulf stans, here is the Wulf + Angel spare update! I don’t have a ton of pics because Angulf and Frances/Ti Ning are my plotless relaxation households so this is just a cute, drama-free, pet-filled interlude before the fuckery of college🐱🐶

So Angulf moved into this beautiful, gigantic house that I of course didn’t build and immediately got to work on Wulf’s insane ‘raise 20 puppies or kittens’ LTW. They adopted Calpurnia, Maximus, Scoprion, Mileena, and Ermac (aka the two spare dogs and three spare cats from the main house) as well as Vincent, Dali, and Pollock (aka the three out of four puppies that Brittany and Gunther’s dogs had).

Having 50000 pets comes with certain challenges, such as spending literally all your awake, non-working time taking care of them.

-It’s worth it! -It sure is, Wulfie! In fact, I think we should make this even worse and add a baby to the mix! -I couldn’t agree more, darling!

Oh God, FINE

Angel and Calpurnia got preggo at the same time and they spend all their time together, too cute ❤️

So Calpurnia had four puppies with Pollock, aka Bernard, Vera, Louis, and Charlie-

-and Angel and Wulf had.. Wilfred. Insert weary sigh. You’ll enjoy him in college, here he is torturing Bernard.

-Fuck, that’s a LOT of dogs.

How about you be the change you wanna see in the world and have some kittens already, Scorpion??

Scoprion finally finds love and has kittens with Heidi, the only pet in this household he hasn’t beaten up. Romantic!

Now that things have settled down a bit Wulf and Angel both get jobs in medicine and we make the shocking discovery..

..THAT JACK DO IS A DOCTOR. OH MY GOD

-BOOOO, BOOO PETS BOOO

-YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE, JACK DO?!

Get him, Bernard!!! This is a Jack-Do-free zone!

The amount of pee puddles in this house is something else-

-but that doesn’t stop Sophie from showing up LITERALLY EVERY DAY to hang out with the pets.

Angel completes her Chief of Staff LTW..

-GOD SHE’S SO HOT WHEN SHE’S REALIZING HER DREAMS

..And Wulf also becomes Chief of Staff a few days later, but of course his heart aspires to more important things.

-PUPPIES. KITTIES.

Yes Wulf, we know.

It’s become clear Angel and Wulf are legit soulmates, she keeps rolling wants to get a puppy or a kitten and actually made 10 pet best friends before Wulf LOL. Out-Komei’d by your own wife!

It’s birthday/Wilfred fucking off to college time! Pink Scarf Wren is apparently also a doctor, so God help you if you get sick in this town.

Angulf remains eternally in love, and eternally surrounded by no less than 4 dogs at any given moment❤️

-ANGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL🎵 -Oh Wulfie, your tenor voice is the same since college! -It’s even deeper now, because of the pet hair I’ve inhaled!

-Ah, isn’t having this many pets such a blessing, Glitchy Butler #3? -Yes, it sure is something. I love how they wait for me to be done mopping so they can piss in the exact same spot.

Well you don’t like it when they piss by the stairs either, Glitchy, make up your mind.

-AWWW what a cute doggie! -Everyone in position? -Copy. -Ok she’s squatting, get her wallet, GO GO GO

-ROCK GRANDMA IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT

Pop art painting girl: Please move me.

Have you ever wondered what 3 simultaneous pet fights taking place in the same spot look like? Wonder no more!

Ok so now that Angulf is retired we are legit broke, I’ve never been happier to see the genie in my life.

-Hmmm, I’ve already asked for money, maybe I should ask for something else now.. -ASK FOR MORE MONEY YOU STUPID ASSHOLE -WE WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T

So the pet situation around here might kinda be completely out of control:

And yet this lot hasn’t crashed once?? The power of love❤️

IT’S OVER. IT’S DONE. WE RAISED 20 PUPPIES AND KITTENS!!!!

-You did it, sweetheart, congratulations!!! -Oh darling, I couldn’t have done it without you, this was truly a folie à deux situation!

Folie à trois if you count me!

-We don’t.

RUDE. And they lived happily ever after, with the only successful marriage this family has ever produced :)

#gen 3 #spare update #ts2

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owlcoven · 2 years

Note

Hello! Can you please do some Gundham x gn reader fluff? Perhaps some dating headcanons? Tysm and have a lovely day! 💖

Thank you for requesting, I'll do my best! Have a lovely day as well!

Gundham Tanaka x G/N Reader! (Dating Headcanons!)

You asked him out first. You already knew he liked you because he was sweeter with you.

If you asked him to, he would most definitely do your eyeliner. You always go to him to do it and he's always happy to help.

Always manages to make time for you, sometimes he'll spend an entire day with you, while taking care of his animals of course.

He's protective in his ways. He casts protection spells on you to make sure you stay out of harm's way, sends an animal with you whenever you go somewhere (if he doesn't feel like going or just can't), and sometimes he'll even lend you his scarf.

He likes to cook quite a lot, but you have to play with the animals as a distraction. They all know they're not allowed in the kitchen, even his Dark Devas of Destruction, yet those four always manage to sneak their way in.

He likes to hold your hand a lot, despite the fact he's still afraid to touch you, because of the poison in his skin. “My love, wear this and you'll be defended from my toxin, I cannot handle losing you.” He gave you a promise ring.

You showed off the promise ring every chance you got, you even showed him several times. You never take it off and he's glad about it.

Small PDA, he'll intertwine your pinkie with his. In the winter, you both share his scarf.

He likes to take you out on dinner dates, but they're usually out in the open. You don't mind, because you love nature and him.

He gets quiet, not as boisterous as he was before the two of you began dating. But if you want him to, he can always get loud again.

He likes to spoil you a lot if you couldn't tell. That's just one of his many ways of saying “I love you so much”. He even gave you the other half of his earrings.

If you have pets, he'll love on them like they were his own.

All animals love you because Gundham loves you. You both were their parents. Each and every single animal.

#gundham x reader #writers on tumblr #sorry if this was not gooood #danganronpa 2 #dating headcanons #tanaka gundham #reqs open #gender neutral reader #gender neutral s/o

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c-estmabiologie · 2 years

Text

Vessel (Critical Role fic)

Inspired by the same conversations that inspired @sharkodactyl 's piece I Feel Blood, which already has a sequel because of course it does. hi natalie, love to share a braincell with you.

Spoilers for c3e34.

Also on AO3!

Imogen hasn’t dreamed since it happened. She clings to the fact of it with the desperation of a drowning man. She lets herself sleep if only to keep up her strength. Every night she closes her eyes to a keening in her mind that’s more pressure than sound, and in the morning she opens them again to more of the same. No storm. No portents. Each new day brings her no closer to surfacing, but the total emptiness of her sleep is hope enough for her to grip.

When she’s awake she keeps vigil. The others don’t interrupt her; they don’t say anything at all. Just like they don’t say anything when they arrive in Jrusar and she pays for her own room, or when she asks for Laudna to stay with her. Ashton clears his throat when he lays her down on the bed but thinks better of it.

I’m sorry , she says in his head as she draws the bolt on the door. She ripples apologies out to every mind she can access: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

The first thing she does is untie the knots and cloth that wrap her. It’s horrible to keep her bound; it’s sickening to see her held in the cloaks of Otohan’s followers. She does this work slowly, the careful fingers of her right hand untangling the rope while her left keeps the coppers pressed against Laudna’s eyelids, lest any spellwork be undone. When she’s finished, she uses her own scarf to hold the coins in place.

At first she reaches for the song of Laudna’s mind whenever she misses her, which is always, endlessly. She curls herself into a comma next to Laudna, almost but never quite touching her, terrified of touching her too much, and she reaches with the full breadth and depth of her controllable power until she collapses from exhaustion again and again. Again and again she awakens from dreamless sleep with her cheeks caked in bloody lacrimosa.

“I’m right here, Laudna,” she says out loud, and she can taste metal in her spit. “I’m going to stay right here with you.”

Just because she can’t feel Laudna’s spark anywhere doesn’t mean that it’s gone. It doesn’t mean that some pinprick of it isn’t left in there just beyond the reach of her power.

After all, Delilah is still there. And Delilah is still responding. Another piece of wreckage to cling to in the flotsam.

“Stop keeping her from me, you bitch,” Imogen says this time. She’s so familiar with Delilah’s voice by now that she feels the sigh that follows in her marrow.

“This is becoming tiresome, child,” Delilah says. “I wish you would understand that no one is keeping anything, least of all from you.”

“Then bring her back,” she bites back. The refrain is the same: Delilah can’t do it; or, she can but she’s too weak. Imogen is sick of it.

“Then show me how to do it. Teach me.”

The pause stretches out so long that Imogen is sure that she has been abandoned, then: “No.”

But something in her no feels conductive. She follows this new, uncertain current.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she tries again. “Why are you still here? You could be anywhere. You — you could be gone but you’re still here. If you can't do anything then why are you still here?”

“It’s not that simple—”

“Then explain it to me. There’s something that you can do that you’re not telling me. I know there’s something you can do.”

This time Delilah stays silent. Imogen waits until she feels sleep creeping into her body. She hopes the dreams will stay away for at least another night.

—

Imogen sits cross-legged on the bed, touching the items in front of her with her fingertips, nudging them into a straight and tidy line as if that matters. The gnarlrock. The lead box of residuum. Four vials of grey, mercurial potion. She isn’t sure how they work (she isn’t sure if they’ll work).

She’d only barely stopped herself from stealing just three of the vials to add to her own. She’d had to leave her room for the first time in days to do it. The fresh air had made her cough. She was grateful that the others hadn’t seen her unwashed and stinking with grief. They wouldn’t understand.

She knows because she’d opened her mind to them to make sure they were gone. She heard them worrying about her and she heard them wanting Laudna back, but they were thoughts that could co-exist with so many others. They would never understand.

Imogen tips the first potion into her mouth. It tastes like it wasn’t meant to be drunk; it slides down her throat in an unexpected semi-solid mass.

“You’re going to help me, you fucking evil bitch,” she chokes out.

This time the reply is immediate: “What are you doing?”

Two possibilities congeal before Imogen. They’re not good enough. Neither of them are good enough. She chokes down another vial.

“I know you want power,” the word power catches and drags against the sawblade edge of her grief. She lets Delilah hear it.

“I am…powerful,” It’s an admission. She has felt the power roiling in her gut every day since, begging for release. She can’t deny it anymore. It’s hers. “I offer you my power.”

Light leaks appear at the edges of Imogen’s vision.

“You want to bind yourself to me?” There it is. The agreement.

“No,” Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. Yes. Yes. “No. Not like that. I saw what you did with the rock. Use me. As a source. As a focus.”

Imogen forces away the memory of what happened to the rock after Delilah had finished with it.

But Delilah forces her attention back to it: “It could destroy you. This might not turn out how you want.”

“You don’t know what I want,” Imogen says. “I don’t care how she comes back to me as long as she comes back.”

All four potions are empty and she doesn’t see any more options.

“Just do it!”

She feels a puncture in the back of her mind like psychic trepanation. She sees the corners of reality in the room ripple and peel back on themselves. The gnarlrock glows, then shatters, spraying the bed with shards. Imogen crawls over them to Laudna, barely feeling the splinters that bite into her knees.

Imogen feels the pressure and weight of her own flesh against Laudna’s as she presses her hands over her heart. Her markings are glowing like they want to split her skin open. It feels good to touch Laudna. She leans forward and presses her lips to Laudna’s. It feels like rapture. Distantly, she thinks this is what drowning must feel like. Everything is turning white.

Against Laudna’s mouth, Imogen gasps like she’s taking a breath for the first time in her life.

A coin slips out from under the scarf and plops gently onto the mattress. Reality snaps coldly back into place.

“Oh.” No, no, no, no, no, no, no. She’ll have to find FCG, she’ll have to explain. She can still fix it. She can still make everything right.

But the hand that reaches up to touch Laudna’s face isn’t Imogen’s. The scarf is untied, the other coin falls away.

“There you are.”

#Delilah..........2!#literally once sat next to Natalie and watched her write 1000 words in the time it took me to summon 11 so #imogen temult #delilah briarwood #laudna cr #critical role fic #critical role #critical role spoilers

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more-than-a-princess · 1 year

Text

@lightcreators asked: ❝ do you want to make a deal with the devil? ❞ (from nagito komaeda)

Succession RP meme - No Longer Accepting!

She hardly ever heard the waves. It was surprising, really: she'd spent so much time on a tropical beach 'holiday' and yet Sonia never listened to the sea crash upon the shore. Or the cawing of seagulls, or the nighttime wildlife making themselves known. Night, she'd realized, had been reserved for three things: fretting over who was to die next in the confines of her cabin, investigating a murder, or most importantly, deep in conversation, if not other things, with him. What had changed, then, was the swift and painful removal of his company: the look on his face as he'd been taken away still lingered, the tears on her cheeks had not yet dried.

What she'd had left of Gundham Tanaka now lay wrapped around her shoulders, lingering near the slightly fraying edges of the hem. Sonia wore his scarf like a shawl, hastily tossed to her before he'd been dragged away, alongside the Four Dark Devas of Destruction. The reason for the fraying hems, the hamsters had squeaked their protest during that horrible trial and were now only subdued due to exhaustion. Or at least Sonia guessed, as all four of them wrapped themselves in folds of his plum-colored scarf. Well, hers now: it wasn't as if he was coming back to claim it.

She tugged it tighter over her shoulders. Not for the chill, but the fact that it still smelled of him, well before the scent of salt and sand and seawater would eventually take over. She hadn't bothered with making any sort of presentable effort in her appearance: the scarf and its squeaky residents had been tossed over a simple set of pajamas and slippers, the latter discarded beside her in the sand. She'd reached a point that if she'd stayed in her cabin alone, she might as well have gone mad and alerted the next killer to her state of distress, implicating that she too wished to be taken away. She'd promised Gundham otherwise, but alone and in the confines of her own mind, Sonia knew she wasn't quite as strong as she'd assured him to be. In that moment, she'd needed to tell him that she would fight. Now, she sat on a deserted, dark shore in her pajamas, her long blonde hair devoid of braids or bows or anything else to keep it neat and tidy. It tumbled down her back as freely as her tears down her face: makeup too had been a moot point by now.

She also hadn't bothered to turn up at dinner in the hotel that evening, or tell anyone regarding her whereabouts. That was why, then, she'd heard Nagito Komaeda announce himself as he approached. Had Hinata-san sent him, Sonia wondered, as she sniffled. Bringing a hand up to wipe at her red, swollen eyes, she exhaled deeply at his particular choice of words.

"I'm fairly certain I already tried that," She replied ruefully, just as Cham-P wandered over and flopped right down in Sonia's lap. The large, orange hamster now occupied most of it, with softer squeaks of confusion, of sadness. She and the hamster both, Sonia thought, as she reached down to scratch him behind the ears. "I always thought Satan was more like an Albrecht Durer engraving and not a duochrome stuffed bear with a foul mouth and a terrible sense of humor. Neither Monokuma nor Tanaka-san would accept my deal anyway."

Sonia realized then that the chorus of pitiful squeaks might have meant the hamsters were hungry. She hadn't had the energy to pilfer about the kitchen when no one was looking, like a cat burglar seeking treasure, or in this case sunflower seeds for four hungry, sad hamsters. "Did Hinata-san send you, Komaeda-san?" She asked, looking up at him with a weary expression. She was reluctant to admit that her own stomach rumbled. "Because I missed dinner tonight at the hotel?"

"Don't worry," She spoke drily, digging her bare toes into the sand. "It's not as if I plan on killing anyone."

#more-than-a-princess answered #lightcreators #(Succession RP meme)#SDR2 verse #(Thanks for the ask! I hope this is makes sense and is clear)#(Basically setting this right after Gundham's execution)

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Chaser at Heart | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Fem!Reader

Summary: Without realizing it James Potter has always been a Chaser regardless of his Quidditch position.

Everybody wondered where James Potter got his snitch that he played with. Rumors had been created, but only James and Y/n knew the real truth. The most common story was that James and his Marauders nicked it from a supply closet. The honest question was, why did James play with a snitch when he was a Chaser?

Y/n knew. James - even as a boy - had brilliant reflexes. They met in a field that was near both their houses. James went to the field to sit by the lake or even swim in the lake. Y/n climbed the trees and read books on the safety of the wooden bark. But one day, she wasn’t as lucky. Y/n fell from the branch she was sitting on, and James chased after her to catch her.

Brilliant reflexes James had. At eight years old, he caught her and ran fast enough to do so. Y/n was waiting for impact, but she never felt it. Instead, two arms had been wrapped around her. One under her knees and one around her back. Instantly she was met with hazel eyes.

They were beautiful. A gorgeous mix of green and brown. But it wasn’t mixed like paint - no - it was mixed like old and vinegar, separated but together. His hair was shaggy and a mess. It was a beautiful chocolate brown color to match the brown in his eyes. The grass could resemble the green in his eyes. Peonies represented the pink in his cheeks.

The boy smiled, and Y/n smiled sheepishly back, “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon, sir.”

“Sir?” James repeated teasingly, “Do I look thirty?”

Y/n laughed, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

James set her on her own two feet, “Pureblood then too?”

“How did you know I was a witch?”

“Your scarf.”

She looked down to see the gold and maroon-colored scarf, “Oh. In that case, yes, I am a pureblood. You?”

“Me too.” James stated proudly, “Family of Gryffindors.”

“Me as well.”

James took her hand and kissed the back of it, “James Potter, at your service.”

Y/n blushed at his action, “Y/n L/n, at your service.”

From that point, Y/n and James became close friends. They’d switch between going to the lake or climbing trees. Thankfully their families knew each other, so becoming friends only brought them closer. In fact, Euphemia was so grateful to have Y/n’s mother closer now that their children were friends. Fleamont was delighted to be closer with Y/n’s father.

Fleamont Potter delved in Potion making while his wife Euphemia worked at St. Mungo’s, helping wizards and witches all around London. Y/n’s father worked with magical creatures, and her mother worked with Euphemia. James and Y/n got extraordinarily lucky. They were together almost every day.

Meeting at the age of eight gave them three years of being friends before going to Hogwarts. They were close by the age of eleven - really close. They stood side by side as they got on the Hogwarts Express and shared a compartment. James and Y/n talked animatedly until a knock at the container startled them.

“Um- Hello, everywhere else is full. May I sit?”

The boy had sandy hair and green eyes. Scars littered his body as far as the eye could see. He was rather tall for an eleven-year-old too, but he seemed nice enough. His voice had a thick welsh accent. It made his language a bit incoherent, but James and Y/n knew what he was trying to say. Nevertheless, James put on a bright smile.

“Of course!”

He gave a nervous smile looking at Y/n, “Come on. We don’t bite. Although James gets pretty loud.” Y/n smiled.

The boy sat hesitantly beside Y/n, “I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.”

“Brilliant to meet you, Remus; I’m James Potter.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n.”

Another hour went by with James and Y/n starting to get to know Remus. They learned that he was a half-blood and that he thoroughly enjoyed books. Y/n and Remus bonded over that while James was listening aimlessly, just enjoying the sound of Y/n’s voice. But another knock interrupted the conversation. This time a more confident boy showed up.

He was about the same height as James. He had dark brunet hair - darker than James’ - and blue-grey eyes. His smile was almost perfectly white and straight. His face structure was defined and chiseled. A cocky smiled grazed his features.

“‘Ello!” He exclaimed, “I was wondering if I could sit here. I just got kicked out of every other compartment.”

Remus and Y/n shrugged; they looked at James, “Sure.” James replied, patting the seat beside him, “Come sit, uh….”

“Sirius, Sirius Black.” Sirius finished sitting beside James as both purebloods dropped their jaws.

“Black? As in the Noble House of Black?” Y/n questioned, and Sirius nodded, “Indeed.”

James stuck out his hand, “James Potter.” Sirius shook his hand.

“Y/n L/n.”

“You two are purebloods too. Gryffindor purebloods.” Sirius commented, “Yep!” They replied simultaneously.

Sirius eyed the nervous-looking boy, “And you?”

“Rem- Remus Lupin.”

The entire rest of the trip - seven hours - was spent talking—no more interruptions. Y/n, Remus, James, and Sirius all got to know each other. The four of them stayed together through everything until the sorting. They all stood near each other while Professor McGonagall began to call names. James was practically shaking in his boots. Y/n grasped his hand tightly.

“You’ll be okay.” Y/n whispered, and James squeezed her hand thankfully, “Thanks, you too.”

Multiple names were called in alphabetical order of last name until finally B’s were beginning to get called, “Sirius Black!”

Y/n kissed his cheek, making Sirius blush profusely, “You’ll be fine.”

Sirius nodded as he pushed his way through the crowd of first years. Anybody in the wizarding world knew about the Noble House of Black. They were one of the most respected pureblood families. Most known for their line of Slytherins. Sirius Black sat on the stool and waited patiently as the hat spoke in his ear. His cousins watching eagerly from the Slytherin table.

Silence cut through the crowd until, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall was as quiet as a mouse. A Black in Gryffindor? The rival house to Slytherin, that was a no-go. James and Y/n exchanged nervous glances that said everything that needed to be - Sirius Black was going to be in big trouble. More names got called. Remus began to rock on his heels nervously.

“Remus Lupin!”

Again, the process repeated itself. Remus took his seat on the stool, and the hat was placed upon his head, making its commented in the boy's ear. Remus’ hands wouldn’t stop moving, and it was making Y/n want to throw up.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table yelled and cheered. Sirius Black upon them as a blissful smile placed itself upon Remus’ features. He stepped off the stood giving James and Y/n a grateful smile before sitting beside Sirius at the Gryffindor table. A red and gold tie was placed around his shoulders. His green eyes crinkled due to the cheerful smile on his lips.

Attendance seemed to be going slower - or so that’s how it felt - because of how close they were approached the P’s. James’ grip on Y/n’s hand began to get tighter, and his hand began to feel clammy. Y/n didn’t mind.

“James Potter!”

“Oh, Merlin…” James muttered before squeezing Y/n’s hand one more time.

Before stepping on the stool, he looked back at Y/n, who gave him a reassuring smile. James Potter sat upon the seat, and once again, the hat was placed above his hair. Within seconds the hat seemed to have made its decision.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Y/n screamed loudly for him along with the Gryffindor table. James’ hazel eyes met her e/c ones, and he winked. The boy took his spot across from Sirius and watched eagerly at his best friend waiting to be sorted. Sirius snapped his fingers in James' face to get his attention.

“How’d you meet?” Sirius inquired, “Mm?”

“How did you meet her?”

“Oh, she fell out of a tree, and I caught her.” James replied distantly, still looking at his best friend left alone in the smaller crowd.

“She’s nice.”

James nodded at Remus’ comment, “Definitely. She’s brilliant.”

Finally, they got to her last name. James was on his tipping point, and Sirius smiled reassuringly - like she had when he began to sit on the stood, “She’ll be fine. You know that.”

“I do, but still.”

Y/n couldn’t fathom her excitement yet nervousness. She was a walking contradiction. Carefully, not to step on her robes while her legs felt like jelly, she moved through the relatively small crowd. Only about ten kids remained now. Y/n sat on the stool and made direct eye contact with James, who threw her the most reassuring look possible.

“Curious, very curious.” The hat spoke in her ear, “Loyal, hardworking yet courageous and stupidly brave.”

Y/n almost snickered, “What a brilliant Hufflepuff you’d make.”

“Please, Gryffindor. Please, Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindor? Are you sure?” The hat queried, “Please.” Y/n begged.

If the sorting hat could’ve shrugged, he would’ve, “If that’s what you think.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

James stumbled from the Gryffindor table as Y/n got off the stool with the same smile Remus had. The blissful, relaxed, and cheery smile. On his way out from the table, he almost fell, but he chased his way to her until Y/n was wrapped in his arms. Y/n placed her nose in the crook of his neck while James’ face was buried in her hair. They pulled away, and James led her to sit beside him.

“Told you she’d be fine.” Sirius remarked, “I worry.” James retorted with a smile.

Y/n fiend offense, “You were worried! Where’d you think I’d go? Slytherin?”

“Absolutely not!” James exclaimed, “Jus’ didn’t want to be separated from you.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers, “You aren’t getting rid of me.”

“Neither are you two.” Y/n pointed at the boys across from her, “Welcome to our group of four.”

“We’ve gotta come up with a better name for that.” Remus replied as the other three nodded, “Definitely.”

The boys and the girls had different dormitories. Y/n shared her dorm with three other girls named Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, and Lily Evans. Meanwhile, James, Remus, Sirius shared a dorm where they met a new boy with blond hair and blue eyes named Peter Pettigrew, who quickly was added to their group of four, which was now five.

James and Y/n shared almost every class aside from History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Y/n had History of Magic with Remus and Lily. At the same time sharing Defense Against the Dark Arts with Remus as well. She also became quick friends with her roommate, Marlene, through Quidditch. Y/n always admired James while he practiced being Chaser, while Y/n was his fake Keeper.

Throughout first year the new additions to their original duo learned how mischievous these two were. Y/n had an intelligent mind with practically foolproof plans, and James had the resources to make those plans work. Sirius was quick to join their prank-making wonders while Remus tended to stick with Y/n in making plans. Peter joined whenever he could.

Soon enough, the group was known as the pranksters around Hogwarts. Surprisingly enough, they were proud of their newfound title. They were all sitting in the boys' dorms. James, Y/n, and Sirius were talking about Quidditch. Peter was practicing the new incantation that Professor Flitwick had taught them, and Remus was reading. When out of nowhere, Remus exclaimed.

“I got it!”

“Got what, mate?” James questioned as the chatter stopped, and they all looked at the sandy-haired male, “Our group name!”

Y/n perked up, “Whatcha got, Remmy?”

“The Marauders!”

“Marauders?” Sirius repeated, confused, “What does that mean?”

Remus sighed, and Y/n giggled, “Marauders is another word for raiders, you idiot.”

“I like it.” Sirius commented, “I do too!” Peter interject.

The three looked at the original duo; Y/n shrugged, “Good call, Rem.”

“How about it, James?”

“I think it’s excellent! The Marauders it is!”

Henceforth, their legacy grew and were now known as the five Marauders. They were all known for something. James, good at getting resources. Sirius, good at persuading. Peter, the most logical. Remus, the brains of every mission. Finally, Y/n, the most reckless. Y/n is the one who’d go in first always; she was also the one with the most detentions.

In the second year, Y/n became more intuitive, observant, and curious about Remus. She noticed in the first year a pattern of when he’d get sick or his mother's sudden illness once a month. She was no stranger to these creatures as her father had worked with them for years. So before the first full moon of the new term, Y/n pulled Remus aside.

“You said you wanted to speak with me?” Remus inquired, and Y/n nodded, “I know.”

“Know about what?”

“I know.”

Remus rocked on his heels, “O- Oh….”

“Don’t worry, nobody else knows. Although they may have or will find out.” Y/n assured, but Remus still looked nervous, “Remus.”

She placed her hands on his taller shoulders, “You aren’t a monster. I’ve seen werewolves before.”

“You- You have?”

“My father works with magical creatures.” Y/n answered, “Werewolves are included.”

“Personally, I think they’re beautiful.” She stated, and tears grew in Remus’ eyes, “You do?”

“Of course, I do.” Y/n smiled, and Remus pulled her in for a hug, “Thank you.”

“Anytime and if you need anything. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

Eventually, Sirius found out next, which quite honestly baffled Remus. Then James and then finally Peter, who was definitely the most oblivious of the Marauders. But to Remus’ astonishment, they were all accepting. They loved Remus as much as his mom, which - in reality - was quite a lot. Every night after full moons, he’d find all four of them sitting beside him.

James would bring games to play for when he felt up for it. Peter got his books and set them on the table beside him. Sirius brought sweets and his stupidly funny jokes. Y/n held his hand and comforted him the best he could. Honestly, Y/n gave the best head scratches, and he definitely took advantage of it.

Second-year was also the time for new Quidditch players to join the team. James and Sirius were about to try out but were undeniably nervous. The morning of, neither of them ate, too worried to think about eating, scared of throwing it up later on the pitch.

“You both are tossers.” Y/n suddenly stated, “You’ll both make the team, and then we’ll celebrate it later, yeah?”

They nodded, “Good. Now get yourselves outta this funk. It’s annoying.”

It was unavoidable. They didn’t just get out of their funk until they got on the pitch. Before James and Y/n separated - her to the seats and him to the pitch - he took ahold of her hand. Squeezing it tightly with his eyes closed. His broom in his other hand that was trembling slightly. Y/n took her hand from his and placed her hands on his cheeks.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Promise promise?” James asked, “Promise promise.” Y/n confirmed.

She let go of his face and began to run off to catch up with Remus, “Good luck!”

“Thanks.” James murmured to himself, “I’ll need it.”

Without a doubt, James was the best Chaser the Gryffindor had ever seen. Sirius was one hell of a beater too. Marlene even tried out for the new Beater position too. Four parts needed to be filled due to seventh-years leaving. Two Beaters, one Chaser, and one Keeper. Y/n and Remus were crossing their fingers that they all got the positions they wanted.

The following week the results were posted. James, Sirius, and Marlene made the team! Y/n would never forget the gleeful smile that passed its way onto James’ face or the way Sirius laughed. She’d never seen them so happy before. Remus and her stood feet away from their little party, his arm thrown around her shoulders.

“It’s nice to see them this way.”

“It is.”

Remus teasingly nudged her hip, “Seems like James has always been a Chaser.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the lycanthrope, “You’ll see it eventually.”

Y/n didn’t pry. It wasn’t worth it, especially when it’s with Remus. Remus was the ultimate secret keeper and cynical. He said things that made you think but would never tell you what they mean. Eventually, more years passed and they were in the summer going into their seventh year.

James invited Y/n to stay the summer at the Potter manor, and she did. It was possibly one of the best summers he’s ever had with her being so close. Mrs. Potter seemed to know what Remus was talking about when she threw looks at her husband when the two best friends were together. But it was one evening that they were all watching a movie when someone came through the Floo Network.

They jumped up from the couch to see a roughed-up Sirius Black, “Sirius!”

James was frozen along with his two parents, but Y/n wasn’t. She was haste to get Sirius up from the floor to help him stand. He had a nasty cut below his right eye and what seemed to be more all across his body which his mother could only do. But instantly, Y/n had been ordering James around while Sirius laid on his back on the couch.

Thankfully, Y/n knew what to do and Euphemia, but she was frozen, still watching her son's best friend take care of their other best friend. James set everything she needed beside her as she began to work quickly. James sat next to her in case she needed anything else. Y/n tore off his shirt and lifted his pants to right over the edge of his boxers.

“James, hold his hand.” Y/n ordered, and he did it, “I’m so sorry, Sirius, but this’ll sting.”

And it did. Sirius groaned and constantly hissed as Y/n helped his wounds, the muggle way. Euphemia stared in shock, no longer frozen, but it was evident that Y/n had complete control over the situation and needed no extra help. Within an hour, Sirius was brand new. Y/n had carefully used potions and other bandages to help.

“What happened, Sirius?”

He chuckled bitterly, “My mother.”

“No shit.” James retorted, “Why?”

“I’ve been burned off the tapestry. I’m not aloud back because I denied them.”

“Denied them?” Y/n inquired.

“Of you know what.”

“Oh…” Y/n whispered.

“Yeah, oh.” Sirius chuckled again - venom lacing.

Euphemia exchanged looks with her husband, “You’re welcome to stay here.”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you guys.” Sirius denied hesitantly, and Fleamont shrugged, “Where else are you going to go?”

Sirius stayed silent, “We don’t mind, Sirius. You’ve stayed here before. Euphemia loves having you around just as much as I do.”

“You may not be our son biologically.” Euphemia began as she knelt in front of Sirius, “But you’ll always be our son.”

A single tear fell from Sirius’ eye, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear.”

James and Y/n exchanged looks of pure glee, but Euphemia caught their eye, “No mischief, you two.”

They sighed, “Fine.”

The duo pulled Sirius up from the couch and led him to his new bedroom. Euphemia watched Y/n and James work in perfect symphony as if they were a made team from the start. Fleamont pulled his wife to his side, watching them both as well. How perfectly his son worked with her. How amazingly gentle he was with her.

“He may not know it yet, but he loves her.” Euphemia broke the silence, “Reminds me of us.”

Fleamont quirked an eyebrow, “How so?”

“You always had this dopey grin on your face. The same one James has when Y/n’s around. It’s been that way since they met. When he first mentioned her name, he had that grin. He’s chased her all these years.”

“Perhaps our son has always been a Chaser at heart.” Fleamont commented, “Perhaps.”

It wasn’t until the first Quidditch match he realized. When he was chasing Y/n around to try and hug her after the game they had won against Ravenclaw. Y/n prohibited hugs after Quidditch matches. Yet here James was chasing her around the pitch with her a screaming mess.

Lily, Marlene, and Remus were laughing loudly at him, “Y/n! Y/n come on!”

“Absolutely not!” Y/n yelled while running, “I told you no hugs after matches.”

She spoke too soon because while she was talking, she had slowed down without noticing. Leaving James to wrap his arms around her from behind. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck while she leaned back into him.

“See! You love my hugs.” James exclaimed, “Whatever.” Y/n retorted.

Remus chuckled at them from afar, “They’re definitely in love.”

“How hasn’t she seen it yet?” Lily chuckled, “Oh, he’s been chasing her for years. Since before Hogwarts.” Remus replied.

“Chaser at heart that one,” Sirius stated putting his arm around the lycanthrope.

James realized it then and there. With her in his arms. He was sweaty and full of joy. She was wholly melted into his embrace. His arms around her neck and her arms on top of his biceps. James realized there was nowhere else he’d rather be than with her at this moment. So he pulled her around, facing her.

“Y/n.”

“James.”

Without a second thought, he pulled her in and kissed her. His arms were moving down to her waist and hers around his shoulders. He was so gentle and soft with her. As if she was the finest China he’d ever owned. Godric James was so soft and so sweet. Y/n’s hands went through his sweaty hair.

The whistles and cheers are what pulled them apart, “Finally!”

“It’s about time you realized!” Remus exclaimed happily, “He’s been chasing you for years!”

Y/n smiled at him, and James put his arm around her shoulder, “My chaser.”

“I’ll always chase you, love.”

Years later, that snitch James always played with would be the same one McGonagall had taken from him one day in the seventh year. It was the same snitch that Harry had almost swallowed in his first year. The same snitch that Dumbledore returned to Harry in his seventh year.

The snitch? It was given to James from Y/n when they were nine. It was an honorary friendship gift. The snitch wasn’t stolen. The snitch wasn’t nicked. The snitch was a gift to a chaser who never stopped chasing till the very end.

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tarydarrington · 3 years

Text

It takes about half an hour for the general topic of conversation at the party to turn to his scars.

It shouldn’t be a surprise; any guests of Archmage Beck’s are bound to have at least a passing familiarity with the way a Scourger’s arms are meant to look. The maze of ink is a symbol of power, a sign of something dangerous and elite, and his ragged array of raised, pale cuts is a far cry from elegance. It’s natural that they would pick up on the difference. It’s natural that it would be gossiped over. It’s natural that Caleb feels rather like teleporting straight home and letting his future self deal with the social consequences.

To borrow an odd turn of phrase Veth had once used, two halves are at war inside of him. One is filled with an angry, headstrong pride that makes him want to shove his scars in the faces of all those who care to gawk and let them have their fill. The other wishes he had brought a coat.

It’s rare that Essek does much at these functions aside from artfully disappearing in such a way that lets him mingle with as few fellow guests as possible, but after only a few moments of stares following him, the elf appears at his side.

“May I borrow you, a moment?” he asks.

The way his eyes dart around the room reminds Caleb of an irritated cat’s tail swishing.

“As many moments as you like,” he replies, and follows Essek into an empty hallway.

The sound of the crowd is immediately muffled by the walls as they step inside, and Caleb wonders fleetingly if this is where Essek has been all night. Someday, if they ever manage to talk about whatever this is between them, maybe the two of them will attend a party without the rest of the Nein. Just for the pleasure of being able to leave early without stranding anyone, if nothing else.

Or they could stay. Caleb thinks he wouldn’t mind a party like this quite so much, if he were with Essek.

He shakes the thought as Essek finally looks him in the eye for the first time, and Caleb’s eyebrows shoot up as Essek begins to shrug his way out of his cloak.

“Herr Thelyss, we are in public,” he deadpans, and grins at the way Essek’s face - not quite his own, here, of course - flushes.

“What is the Empire saying? Don’t bite the hand that feeds you?” He takes the cloak in both hands, holding it out between them at its full length and width, turning a critical eye on Caleb. He seems satisfied with his findings, folding it neatly over one arm before clearing his throat. “If you like,” he says in a softer tone, “you may borrow this.”

He might have been less surprised if it were a striptease. Essek is fond of his layers. They’re elegant, they present an image of inscrutability, and - most importantly to Essek, he has learned - they obscure his body. It gives him privacy, this kind of which he values greatly. To be offered something like this is quite a gift, indeed.

Essek seems, as usual, to know what he’s thinking. “It is rather warm, tonight. I dressed accordingly.”

Caleb gives him a once-over for precisely the length of time that could not possibly be considered staring. He’s not lying. The fine, light clothing beneath his cloak is amorphous enough to preserve his modesty.

Caleb thinks of the way their stares follow him. He thinks of all the pain he went through to get these scars, and all the good he’s done to ensure they are never inflicted on anyone else. He is not ashamed of these scars. Essek will understand, if he turns the offer down. He always understands.

Then, he thinks of the faces they’ll make if he returns to the room wearing Essek’s cloak.

The rest of the night passes about as he expects, with three important observations made. Firstly, Essek’s cloak is still warm and smells very much like Essek. Secondly, the well-tailored, black tunic he had been wearing underneath follows the lines of his body loosely enough to obscure most details, but just closely enough to draw his imagination to fill in the blanks. Thirdly, despite the smattering of murmurs and stares that still turn in his direction from time to time, the sum of the previous two facts makes this evening entirely enjoyable.

He suspects, from the way Essek steals a few more glances than necessary, that it might be a positive experience for them both.

The number of times the Mighty Nein find themselves in combat before the end of a fancy party truly ought not to be as high as it is.

Then again, Essek remembers the circumstances of their first meeting. It may be absurd, but it isn't surprising.

What is surprising - or rather, what would have been surprising, had one informed him of it several years ago - is the way he doesn't think twice before placing himself between a nearly-downed Veth and the blow intended to finish her. The blade cuts him from shoulder to chest, catching him at the wrist on the follow-through and leaving a stinging cut in its wake.

Caduceus sees to the wound with his usual easy precision, but the magic doesn't work the same way on his clothing. He picks dejectedly at the tattered remains of his neckline, the end of his sleeve hanging ragged to match. This had been a nice cloak. That, and the Ruby’s festivities inside, blissfully unaware of the commotion in the gardens, are still due to continue for another few hours.

Just as he's considering how bad a faux pas it would be to call it a night, Caleb ducks down into his line of sight, squatting beside him where he rests against the low stone wall.

"You know, I think perhaps you are a little breakable to be trying for Yasha’s role,” he says with a bemused smile. Before Essek has a chance to respond, he adds, “That was very brave of you. I will thank you on Veth’s behalf, since I think she has, ah, moved on from the moment.”

Moved on from the moment seems, in this case, to mean that she has been offering for the last several minutes to bandage Bluud’s barely-scratched biceps. Essek waves a hand.

“It’s perfectly alright,” he says. “Though I must admit, I will mourn the clothing.”

Caleb gives him a sympathetic grimace, and Essek tries not to fidget as he watches those blue eyes assess the damage and catch on the strips of rarely exposed skin. He makes a little clicking sound with his tongue as he takes it in that is much more attractive than it ought to be.

“Would you like to…” Caleb’s brow furrows in thought, and to finish the question, he takes the end of his scarf in one hand and dangles it between them. “If you like?”

Essek wipes the look of wide-eyed, touched surprise from his face as fast as he can, but he’s sure from the way a small smile tugs at Caleb’s lips that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. His gaze drops down to his ruined neckline. The damage is high enough that it’s possible the scarf could cover it, if properly arranged.

“That would…” He takes a breath. “I would be… grateful.”

With an encouraging smile, Caleb ducks out from the middle of the scarf and pools it in his arms, offering it to Essek. When he takes it, the warmth and weight of the fabric reminds him of Caleb’s cats. He tries to keep his breathing steady as he turns it in his hands - and realizes only when he attempts to duck through the center that he has no idea how to properly wrap something like this.

He’s slighter than Caleb, so the loops that circle Caleb perfectly slip awkwardly off his shoulders; besides that, the elegant coil has been tangled in the handing off. He tries to wind it around his own neck from the beginning, but finds it frustratingly difficult to get it to sit the way he’d like it to, and is entirely uncertain of what to do with the ends.

“I… am afraid I am rather at a loss,” Essek admits begrudgingly.

Caleb cocks his head to one side in curious surprise, but instead of questioning, he holds out his hands. “Would you allow me?”

He takes the scarf back when Essek nods mutely in response, and suddenly he is very, very close. Caleb gives him a reassuring smile, as though he knows - and of course he knows, he always knows - that he needs a moment to adjust to the proximity. The care in those eyes almost knocks Essek’s gaze away, but instead holds it locked in place.

“Is, ah…” Caleb begins, and his voice sounds thicker than before, “is this alright?”

Essek hopes the somewhat dazed half-nod he manages gets the point across.

He’s had Caleb’s arms around him before, but for some reason the feeling of them bracketing his neck as Caleb drapes the scarf around and around him is so achingly intimate that it stops his breath.

His gaze breaks from Caleb’s for just long enough to notice the v of bare skin now visible at the neck of his shirt, and he snaps his attention back to Caleb’s eyes as his face burns. Caleb’s smile quirks upwards on one side at the sight. He gives the scarf a few gentle tugs to place it just right.

As his hand draws away, he lets it rest cupped against Essek’s cheek for just a moment. The night is cold, but the space between them feels warmer than a fireside. The fireside, as well, would have fewer sparks.

Caleb clears his throat as he pulls away and stands, and the spell is broken as both of them turn to studiously examine their surroundings. Essek shifts the weight of the scarf experimentally. Sometimes, one of Caleb’s cats will climb the man and wind itself around his neck in a thoroughly endearing display of affection. Caleb has always thought of it as the highest compliment, to be chosen in such a way, and Essek imagines it must feel something like this. And never, not even covered in four layers and his old mantle, has he ever felt so protected from the outside world.

“Thank you,” he manages after a moment.

“Ja, of course.” It’s a minor relief that Caleb sounds about as breathless as Essek feels.

As he stands, letting his levitation spell carry him gently off his feet, the hem of his sleeve catches his eye. Caleb’s gaze falls that way, too, then flicks back up to his with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Well,” he says, and holds out his arm, “that is a shame.”

Essek looks from Caleb’s face to his arm and back, heat creeping up his neck. Caleb knows him well enough to understand this is no small request. He knows Caleb well enough, in return, to understand that he will take no offense if he refuses.

Carefully, holding his breath, Essek tucks his hand under Caleb’s arm. The billowing cloth of his sleeve falls down to cover the ragged end of Essek’s, and Essek finds himself wondering for a moment if the loose style was intended to mimic his own.

The smile on Caleb’s face is so fond that Essek can’t help but return it.

“Well,” Caleb says, leaning in conspiratorially, “shall we?”

They’re not the last of the Mighty Nein to return to the party - Essek suspects Beauregard and Yasha have found their own pursuits in the garden, judging by the looks they had been exchanging after the battle - but they’re not the first, either. Jester and Fjord have found the Ruby and joined her in polite conversation. Caleb steers him dutifully in the other direction; they both know well what will happen if Jester sees them like this, and perhaps Caleb is as loath to break the moment as he is. They make the rounds together, and Essek thinks that they must look for all the world like a real couple. The thought brings a strange lightness to his chest, and he finds himself absently curling his hand around Caleb’s arm where it rests.

“My nefarious plot has gone off without a hitch,” Caleb murmurs with a grin. “Now, you are stuck with me for the rest of the evening.”

Essek doesn’t bother holding back the smirk. With a covert flick of magic in his free hand, he draws away from Caleb’s arm to politely retrieve a glass from the tray of a passing waiter. Caleb watches him with incredulous surprise, eyes trained on the end of his sleeve - perfectly intact through a Seeming spell.

“I think I can manage without, if I must,” Essek says mildly.

He passes the drink to his off hand as Caleb flushes a bit.

“Well,” Caleb says sheepishly, “that is one way to do it.”

Essek raises his eyebrows at him teasingly, and before he can talk himself out of it, slips his hand back into the crook of Caleb’s arm.

To his credit, Caleb doesn’t tease. The surprised little smile he gives Essek instead gives him more warmth than the scarf does, and Essek lets himself smile back as Caleb’s hand comes up to rest over his. Not enough to hold him in place, just enough for a little more contact.

“You know, you could have done that before,” Caleb murmurs. “At Astrid’s party, when you lent me your cloak.”

Essek takes a sip of his drink to hide the blush. “I realize,” he replies. He could admit that the way those people had treated Caleb lit his anger in a way few things have since he left court. He could admit that he knows, from experience, that it’s more of a comfort to have something real between you and the rest of the world. He could admit that giving his own cloak as such a barrier for Caleb had felt like a more personal kind of protection.

He could even point out that Caleb could have used the spell himself, if he had wanted to; but he finds he likes the quiet implication given by the fact that he took Essek's cloak instead.

"It suited you,” is what he settles on.

Caleb gives him a hum of acknowledgement in response. “Ja, well,” he adds with a soft, knowing smile, “the scarf suits you.”

Of course, Caleb always understands. And as they move about the party for the rest of the night, arm in arm, Essek thinks that he doesn’t mind parties quite so much with Caleb by his side.

#shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #critical role #mine #mine:fic #caleb #essek

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Text

SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes

↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋

warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys

FLUFF

since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.

every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.

taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.

lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.

ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.

kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.

taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.

lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.

baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.

mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.

lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.

cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.

not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.

taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.

taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.

both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.

we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.

mark will ALWAYS share his melon.

making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.

if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.

since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!

mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.

baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.

taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.

all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.

lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.

taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.

taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?

baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.

mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching.

kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.

ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.

lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.

taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.

mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.

returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.

taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.

ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.

when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.

taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.

kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.

NSFW

it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.

taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.

lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.

ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.

kai owns expensive latex gear.

baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.

taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.

meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.

taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.

taemin owns the most underwear.

mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.

taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.

kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.

taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.

taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough.

mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.

taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.

taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection.

when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.

kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.

taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.

mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.

sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.

lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.

taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.

taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.

or he humps one when he’s by himself.

ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.

baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.

oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.

baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.

how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.

since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.

mark is absolutely a starfish.

kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.

curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.

taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.

taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.

mark’s dick looks really pretty.

taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.

kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.

taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.

baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.

taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.

kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.

taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.

ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.

lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.

this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.

baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.

kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.

taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.

ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.

baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

The Instructor Part 2

Summary: You and Agent Walker meet again

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: angst, smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

The Instructor Part 2

A month came and went.

Then six weeks.

Seven.

Eight.

Then you stopped counting.

You felt used, and grew angry. The submissive part of your nature had been taken advantage of and you swore it wouldn’t happen again. Never again would you allow your desires to be seen by any man, let alone by Agent Walker. You collect your memories of him, gather them into a box, seal it tight and bury it in the darkest corner of your mind. You don’t even bring it out on lonely nights anymore, it hurts too much.

You focus on work and fall into your new routine: wake up, work out, work late, eat take out, sleep, repeat. The days soon melted into one, weekends forgotten as the routine is the same as weekdays. Your work was repetitive and uninspiring. You were a junior Agent after all. You knew to expect a few years of grunt work before anything meaningful. You kept your head down and did what you had to do, hoping your diligence paid off and the higher ups noticed.

Despite your hard work, you were surprised when you were called into your boss’s office for a new assignment. She tells you that an opening came up on a surveillance team in the field focussed on a group of foreign nationals. She told you strictly that there would be no interaction with the group, surveillance only. You agree to the new posting, thankful for the break in monotony and chance to develop your skills.

“Just a moment, here is the lead Agent now.” She says.

You turn as the door opens and Agent Walker strolls in, his clipped yet casual gait doesn’t falter as he notices you. A lump rises in your throat as you see him for the first time in months. You don’t know how to feel, but your body reacts. With a pounding heart and clenching stomach, you keep your features smooth as possible, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to widen your lips. An appropriate response to seeing your old instructor, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes flicker with recognition, his small smile and nod was just as appropriate. He says to your boss, “Is this the addition to the team?”

“Do you two know each other?”

You don’t deny it. You’re not stupid enough to believe your boss doesn’t know every Agent you’ve ever interacted with so you say, “Of course, Agent Walker was one of my instructors at The Farm.” Boldly you continue speaking more for Walker’s benefit than your boss, “But I haven’t seen him in… what is it Agent? Four months?”

“Four and a half,” he replies, with a tilt of the head.

“Four and a half,” you repeat. Like bile rising in your throat, anger fills you and for a moment you know he sees it. Forcing the rising tide of fury down you say, “Well, time flies when you’re having fun.” You bare your teeth at him in what you hope your boss takes as a smile and Walker takes for the ‘fuck you’ it was. Walker narrows his eyes at you then turns his attention to your boss.

You discuss more details of the case and travel arrangements then you are dismissed. Leaving the two of them together you tidy your desk of personal belongings since you didn’t know when or if you would return and go home to prepare.

Once you are through the gates of Langley and no longer under direct video surveillance you start to shake. Seeing him again rocked you to your core you hoped you hadn’t given anything away with your comments. Was it a coincidence that you were promoted and put in his team or had he asked for you? Neither Walker or your boss had given anything away. No time to think about it now, you had packing to do and less than two hours to get to the airbase where you would be sent to DC for the job.

You showered quickly, resisting the urge to release some of the growing tension in your gut. You hadn’t touched yourself in months and you wouldn’t start now.

Trying to push thoughts of Agent Walker from your mind was a futile task. Instead you focussed on keeping your anger raw so you wouldn’t fall under his spell again. You had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Did he have a knack for that? Only showing himself to you when you had moved on. You wouldn’t let him take you easily this time, this time he would not get satisfaction, not after what he had done. You shake your head, ‘this time’ you say, recognising the lies you tell yourself.

You start to get dressed when you hear a short rap on the door. Fuck, the car had arrived early. You pull a robe on as you answer the door, to let the driver know you’ll be a few more minutes.

Throwing the door wide, you’re greeted by Agent Walker, his face firm, furrowed brows looking you up and down. The collar of his dark woollen coat is pulled up, framing his face drawing your attention to his piercing stare. Frozen for a moment, you can do nothing but return his gaze. You’re a deer in headlights until he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and your body is propelled into action.

You slam the door closed, but he is quicker than you, a huge paw catching it and he forces his way into your apartment. You back away, but he kicks the door closed behind him and advances, with predatorily confident and rapid steps.

He catches your throat and brings you to him. He skin is rough with unshaven hair that is yet to grow soft. His lips are so smooth and warm, that you can’t help but melt into him. You hate him.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you almost sweetly and you can’t help the hand that flies on its own and makes a loud crack as it hits Walkers cheek.

You’re both stunned. Walker tongues his cheek and works his jaw a moment. “I hope you enjoyed that, pet. The first one is free, but the next one will come at a price.” He doesn’t seem angry, in fact his tone suggests amusement, which only fuels your rage.

“Get out,” you say. You try and keep your voice steady, but you know it warbled with fear as you looked into his eyes.

“No,” Walker says. He casually removes his coat folding it neatly and laying it over the back of your dining chair. He removes his scarf, placing it on top of his coat before he unbuttons his dark brown suit jacket and loosens his tie. You watch him, mind fixated on each of his careful movements. As if he were performing burlesque show, each minute act became a piece of seduction.

He sits in another chair and pats his lap, “Come, pet.” He calls to you in his gentle authoritative voice.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step towards him. But then you notice his smirk, and you shrink away. You can’t speak but you shake your head as you retreat towards your bedroom.

Walker starts to look irritated and his voice gains a hard edge that both terrifies you and thrills you. “Come. Here,” he repeats. “I won’t say it again, pet.”

“Fuck you, Walker,” you spit out, your anger spilling from you, becoming a torrent as you wrestle within yourself.

He peers at you with his contemplating blue eyes. Then he sighs and moves before you can even register his actions. You turn, to run, but he is quicker and stronger. But more than that, his desire to have you is stronger than your desire to run.

His vice like arms trap you as he forces you against the wall, his body pressing into your back. “Why do you fight me, pet?” His voice rumbles into your ear. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Your tears came then, the rejection you felt was no longer able to be contained. That box of memories, buried for months smashes apart and so does your control. “You left me,” you sob. “You used me then left me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ashamed at how quickly you relented and told him anything. You laugh at yourself, why did you believe even for a second you could hide anything from him? The only man who saw into your very soul.

“I know, pet,” Walker drones, his lips caressing your ear as he does. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” you reply.

His hand is in your hair, smoothing the strands away from your face. His tender touch was unexpected but welcome. You feel soft kisses on your eye lids and you slowly stop crying. His tongue comes out, licking at your wet cheeks and you hear his breathing shudder as he laps up your pain.

You open your eyes, he growls as your shining eyes meet his. He plants a foot between your legs forcing them apart while he undoes his belt and pants and you hear them crumple to the floor. His hand tilts your hips back for him while the other pulls aside your underwear as he roughly explores your centre, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You hear a muttered, “Fuck,” as his finger enters you, circling your walls, stretching you before a second enters. “Fuck, pet. Have you touched yourself at all since I fucked you?”

Unsure of what he would think, you reply hesitantly, “No. You said I was yours.”

Walkers features soften as he says, “I knew you were a good girl.” Your whole body bursts into flames and your core clenches around his thick, thrashing fingers as you hear his whispered praise.

With precise and sudden movements, his fingers are withdrawn and his broad, leviathan cock bludgeons into you. Biting down on your lips to supress the cry growing in your throat you savour the feeling of being torn apart. Wasting no time, Walker moves with vicious, aggressive speed, wounding you with his thrusts, ripping apart your defences.

Pulling down your robe, he exposes your chest. His wanton hands knead your breasts as he uses them for leverage, his pounding never stops. You hear his breaths primal and raw as he assaults your neck with his mouth and teeth. He moves his depraved mouth to your shoulders sinking his teeth in deep. The pain feels like a caress when you are this close to the edge.

Walker turns you around, lifts your leg to his hip as he enters you again. His eyes are clinical as he studies your reaction. You feel boneless under his scrutiny and close your eyes again looking away. Walker grips your throat in his hand and uses his long fingers to push your cheek back in his direction.

“Open your eyes, pet,” he orders. “I know you’re close. I want to see your eyes when you call my name.”

The pressure builds deep within your gut as you keep your eyes glued to his. His breath, warm and minty with a hint of gin maybe, tickles at your cheek. You want to kiss him, taste him, feel his tongue invade you and devour you. You silently beg him to and as if hearing your thoughts, he slowly moves his mouth to yours. His eyes stay open as he flicks his tongue over your lips before taking your lower lip between his teeth.

Like a taut elastic, your core grows tighter and your knee gives out as the rush of warmth whips through your body. He lets go of your lip in time for you to shout “August!”

Your body pulses and your tightening muscles strain with contractions until you feel all the tension fall away. Like a rag doll you slump against him. But he isn’t finished with you.

Walker lifts your lulling head with a firm thumb under your chin, He continues his frenzied thrusts with a new vigour having succeeded in his task. He fucks your listless body, you’re too spent to move, and he doesn’t care. With a stuttering final thrust he pushes deep into you, clenching his teeth, whiskered lip raised in a snarl as he growls with his final throes.

He raised his hand to your face, his thumb laying a single burning caress down your tear stained cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll pack for you,” he says before pulling away and doing up his pants.

You shower again, consciously cleaning August’s seed spilling slowly from your ruined core. Each time you think you’re clean, you feel more leaking from you and you wash again. The bathroom door opens and August enters making a show of looking at his watch.

You sigh, and turn the shower off. His eyes inspect your body as he hands you a towel. He makes no effort to leave as he watches you towel off and you awkwardly squeeze past him as you make your way to your bedroom. He has laid an outfit on your bed, complete with underwear and shoes. Your gun is on your bed in its holster with spare clips by its side. You don’t say anything to him and dress in the clothes he chose and slipped your holster onto your belt, pocketing the spare clips.

Walker is waiting at the door with your overnight bag in his hand. You give the apartment a quick look over, making sure everything is turned off and sling your handbag over your shoulder. August opens the door for you, and as you slip past him his arm wraps around your waist and he kisses you.

The deep demanding kiss you wanted earlier was nothing compared to this, his lips were bruising and hard, but his tongue explored your mouth with a soft insistence. Your hands were free and for the first time, you touched him, laying a hesitant hand on his chest, and another on his neck. His skin felt hot under yours and testing his limits you slid your fingers into his hair and were rewarded with a barely audible groan.

Then he pulled his head away with a jerk and without looking at you said, “Go to the car. You’re making us late.”

Disappointed but not surprised you went to the car wondering where this assignment would take the two of you.

Part 3

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