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shurisneakers · 3 months

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unsolved (ii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.

A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything.

The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt.

All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime.

He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality.

But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable.

The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open–

There’s no one on the other side.

Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.

Shoot day. See you at the studio!

He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order.

The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.

He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.

He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in.

“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”

Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state.

“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”

“I have my ways.”

Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity.

“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss.

He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not.

You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.

“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.”

Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do.

He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him.

He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied.

“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked.

You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”

Bucky’s eye twitches.

“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”

Well. No.

“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”

Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way.

“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.

“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’.

But the sentiment is appreciated.

The studio is moderately big.

You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity.

He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it.

You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.

“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”

Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes.

“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.

You stop talking to look at him.

“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation.

If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.

“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”

“Makeup?”

“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”

Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.

“Just say it’s part of the theme.”

You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.”

So Bucky gets his makeup done.

By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.

The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms.

“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.

Bucky wants to scream.

“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.”

You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’.

Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.

“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him.

“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin.

Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.”

“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces.

“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.”

That sounds…doable.

“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate.

“Recording in three…two…one–”

The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead.

“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.

Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.

You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned.

You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this.

So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.

You kick him under the table.

The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t.

At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.

You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”

Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”

Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you?

Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”

Bitch.

“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”

“Where?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”

Bucky doesn’t add anything further.

You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue.

“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”

Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit.

“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”

“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest.

“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”

Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”

You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless.

“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.”

Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening.

Your eyebrow twitches.

You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated.

You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top.

You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion.

You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.

Collectively, every spine in the room straightens.

“Asbestos?” you echo.

“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago.

You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this.

“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.”

You stare at him. “You’re lying.”

He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”

“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.”

“Hallucinations?”

“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”

“And the bite marks?”

“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”

“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”

Bucky shrugs.

You look like you’re going to lose your mind.

You clear your throat. “What about the priest?

Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?”

“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?”

“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”

“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better.

“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.”

You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”

“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”

“Because the house was haunted.”

“By mold.”

Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch.

You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers.

“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”

The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.

But he’s already gone.

The video goes up that weekend.

It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.

To Barnes (Work):

are you ready for your influencer era

He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.

To Barnes (Work):

influenza

Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies.

The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.

And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved.

From unknown

Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.

Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name.

From unknown

Just letting you know though– he was lying.

From unknown

He doesn’t have an aunt.

Motherfucker.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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dyaz-stories · 4 months

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in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

#sweet home #sweet home x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home season #park chan young #chan young #chan young x reader #park chan young x reader #sweet home imagines #park jinyoung #my writing

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number1villainstan · 2 months

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I just saw Dune Part 2 (2024) with some friends so here are some Thoughts i guess

I feel like on the whole these movies are trying to either downplay or cut out a lot of the misogyny/sexism in the book, although Herbert's view of gender roles is so pervasive in the book that it's hard to change without completely changing the worldbuilding (the Bene Gesserit especially) and/or certain characters and getting second-order effects that weaken or change the main plot. But they did a good job at least making it much less in-your-face and offensive than in the book. One of Chani's lines is about how "men and women are equal" in the Fremen, and while I don't really think that's supported by how the movie depicts Fremen I can see and respect where they're coming from

It's still a very male-dominated movie, but it's honestly pretty faithful to the book, and like--what are you gonna do? It's Dune. You can't exactly just genderbend Paul and get the same story, at least not when the Bene Gesserit are still what they are

wait now i'm thinking about an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans man. ideally you'd get both the canon critiques of white savior mythos/the Messiah trope and a deconstruction of the sexism and strict gender roles of the society of the Dune universe. also ideally you'd get a whole bunch of other queer characters in the same AU. you could also do an AU where the Kwisatz Haderach/a potential Kwisatz Haderach turns out to be a trans woman, or even nonbinary, but i feel like those would make for very different stories cuz AGAB/ASAB seems to matter like A Lot in the Dune universe

the movies did manage to completely get rid of the homophobic parts of the Harkonnens' characterization though. i did like that

although it was still using disability/deformity as shorthand for Ugly Evil Guy which :/

but enough about the Problematic Elements(TM) let's talk about the actual story

Chani was a lot more politically and generally assertive in the movie than I remember her being in the book, although it's been A While and she was also very much a Main Character who had thoughts and opinions and importance outside of the male characters she was affiliated with (as much as anyone can escape the political black hole that is Muad'dib but) AND! she actively advocated for Fremen self-governance in the beginning! although she didn't keep it up cuz she got sucked into the Paul black hole. this may have happened in the book it has been like two years since i read the first book and it was very disjointed reading cuz College(TM). I also liked the ending part, where it was implied that Chani was leaving, on her own, because she was angry with Paul, which implies More Character Development. (Also they didn't seem to do the Fremen polygamy/concubines thing in the movie, which was a good call, i feel like that part of the book was maybe informed by anti-Arab racism)

Jessica was incredible, of course. Love me a good ruthless woman. Her main character trait/motivation was definitely Paul's Mother but her main personality trait seems to be incredible ruthlessness. there is no madonna/whore complex to be found here no sir

(i may be wrong about that part but eh)

And of course the Harkonnen Blood reveal. the story definitely sets up Atreides as The Good Guys (fair, just, merciful, looking out for and caring about the people under their rule) and the Harkonnens as The Bad Guys (cruel, unjust, power-hungry and traitorous), which makes the reveal that Jessica and Paul have Harkonnen blood an incredible symbol of Paul's corruption arc. He goes from "I must do anything possible to avoid the holy war" (the Atreides way) to "CONQUER ARRAKIS AND ELIMINATE ANYONE WHO STANDS IN MY WAY" (the Harkonnen way) over the course of...technically years, in the book, although that wasn't super well communicated in the movie I feel--in the movie it was only months, cuz Alia hadn't been born yet by the end. And right before we see the worst of it we end up learning that Jessica, his mother, was a daughter of Baron Harkonnen. Jesus fuck.

there's definitely some Not Great elements about using ancestors/blood to determine morality but still

princess irulan was introduced! as an independent character and actor in her own right oh my god! although she still falls prey to the sexism infusing the original material

the dune books (at least the first two) are in this weird state where there are very strict and specific roles/walks of life that female characters are allowed in (domestic/family life and religion) and men dominate Everything Else and nobody every questions that, not to mention the whole thing about how apparently even the very female religion/psychic field is supposed to be dominated eventually by This One Man who can do it better than all the women, and yet all of the female characters are well-developed and feel like people. ykno aside from the complete lack of protest in being shoved into a sexist role

anyways irulan got more development than i remember from the books, i loved that, and that we got her POV too. these movies are really working to uplift and spotlight the female perspectives that were often somewhat sidelined in the books and i love that

also stilgar's (blind?) faith REALLY came through which i liked

overall, yeah, the movie was great. it's very faithful to the spirit of Dune while addressing some of its flaws/datedness--it understands what its message is and what it's saying, and the way it's constructed really hammers home the critiques of imperialism and racism the original was built on

I think this is gonna end up a trilogy, based on only the first book, and it very much seems like the third (and final?) movie is going to specifically focus on the war against the Great Houses after the Emperor falls, which iirc was kinda glossed over in the book/between Dune and Dune: Messiah. I can't wait to see what they do with it

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune part two spoilers #dune part 2 spoilers #dune 2 spoilers #dune 2 #also that one poster where it's paul and chani walking forward with the sun to their backs and chani is VISIBLY IN FRONT OF PAUL #frank herbert could never

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bunniesanddeer · 2 months

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Hiiiii! I was wondering if I could request a fic with a sick reader? I'm currently sick with the flu and am looking for a bit of comfort :(

Hi! I am sorry for taking a bit to respond. Needed some sleep after work. I wasn't sure if this is exactly what you wanted, so I am sorry if it isn't. This is just some minor fluff from the perspective of Alastor.

Sick

Pairing: Alastor X Sick!Reader

Tags: Sick reader, fluff, minor angst, allusions to sickness and Alastor's past.

Word Count: 1,048

Alastor did not like when people got sick. He did not like seeing their snotty faces, or listening to their fevered rambles. He did not like getting sick, either. The Radio Demon hated it. It reminded him of being a weak child, and it was something he actively avoided. In order to do so, he avoided sick sinners, giving them an even wider berth than the average sinner. That is, until you got sick.

It had been a normal morning up until Charlie spoke up.

Charlie had called your name as the group made their way to the dining room. Alastor had been setting the final platters down. They were heaped full of pancakes, and waffles, something you had requested recently. He looked up from the table, making eye-contact with a confused Charlie.

“That’s weird,” she said. “Normally they’re up pretty early. Has anyone seen them?” Charlie looked at the group, and got shakes of their heads in response.

Yes, that was odd. Normally, by this time, you were up and following Alastor around the kitchen. He rarely let you help, but you always sat in the kitchen with him. Sometimes you would ask him silly questions about his life, and sometimes you would sit, sipping your drink, and listening to whatever music he played.

Alastor realized that it had been quiet all morning. (Something in him twinged. He had completely forgotten about your morning ritual! How rude). “Well, my dear! You get everyone settled in for breakfast. I’ll go see if they have merely lollygagged in bed too long!”

Charlie thanked him with a smile and a thumbs up. He didn’t respond, merely making his way past her and towards the stairs.

When he finally got to your room, he knocked on your door with a flourish. Alastor’s ears twitched as he listened intently. Nothing. There was only silence on the other end. He knocked again. Still nothing. With a sigh, and a mild form of discomfort, (one did not just barge into another’s sleeping space!), he opened the door, and let himself inside.

The room was quite dark. The curtains were pulled tight across the window, and the room had a musty smell to it. Something made Alastor feel the slightest bit skittish. Hmm.

There, on the bed, was a lump swallowed by blankets. He rolled his eyes. Ah! You were merely avoiding the day. With little sympathy, Alastor ripped back the blanket, to be met with the sight of you curled into the fetal position, eyes barely blinking open.

“Al?” Your voice was rough, and nasally. “Wa’s goin’ on?”

Your eyes had crusts at the corner, and your face was flushed. Your hands twitched, and your breath seemed to whistle just the slightest.

Gross. Alastor was immediately on guard. He did not want to get sick. He wanted out of this room.

But the sight of your exhausted face, made him think twice. He pondered over the situation for a moment, before gently putting the blanket back on the bed, gently tucking you in.

“I will be right back, dear. I am just going to go get some water and a thermometer,” Alastor said, taking off from the room before you could respond. His hands itched. If he was being honest, the drive to send someone else to take care of you was definitely there, but… You were ever so sweet on him. He couldn’t understand why, but he wasn’t about to repay that shred of kindness by abandoning you.

Alastor made his way to the kitchen, and to the medicine cabinet tucked in the corner. He pulled the thermometer, and after briefly reading over some labels, one of the medicinal syrups. He grabbed a cup, a plastic one he was not about to give a sick person a glass that they could drop, and filled it with water. On his way out, Charlie caught his eye. Alastor merely shook his head at her, and made his way back to your room.

Back in your room, Alastor helped you sit up, and propped the thermometer in your mouth. The back of his hand settled on your forehead, a strange habit he would never break. Your face was full of exhaustion, and it reminded him of another face, and he needed to force himself to focus.

“Just a moment, dear. Then I can give you this water,” he said, waiting for the strange thermometer to beep. He pulled it out of your mouth with a gentle tug, and read the number. “Ah. 102. You definitely have a fever. It’s not severe, but let’s help you get better.” Alastor handed you the cup, keeping the bottom of it supported as your weak grip held it.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as he set the cup down on the bedside table. He settled down, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“M’ throat hur’s,” you mumbled, your eyes blinking slowly. “An’ I don’ think I can eat anythin’ right now.”

Alastor hummed. “Yes, I suppose we can let you rest now. We will get some warm broth in you later. If you do… expel later, it will be much worse on an empty stomach. Plus! Some good always helps heal the body and soul.” His claws push back some hair from your forehead. You lean into his hand, making him pause. (He would pretend the way his chest suddenly ached at the sight meant nothing. It was better that way).

“Can I have a hug?” Your voice is rough, but you’re looking at him with such hope in your eyes. Alastor can feel his smile get involuntarily tugged wider.

“Hmm. I suppose. He crawls up onto the bed, and settles besides you. You were much smaller than him, so he towered over you, even as he settled against the back of the bed. You immediately turn and nuzzle into his side, face tucked into his ribs. His arm wraps around your shoulder and back. Alastor decides to ignore the fact that you’re sweaty, because he’s being nice, not because the way your arms wrap around him cuts off his thinking.

“Sleep, dearest. I’ll be here.” Alastor hums to himself as you fall asleep.

He doesn’t like when people get sick, but perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing.

Asks are OPEN!

#alastor x reader #fanfic #fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #alastor #alastor x you #sickfic #Bun's short fics

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readychilledwine · 7 months

Text

Bound by Fate - part 3

Summary - Kaylee's life has been filled with training. But as her mate is left with no choice but to distance himself, it allows another connection to form.

Warning - none really? At least I don't think so? There's fire at the end?

A/n- you know that one song from lion king? Reflections of Mufasa? All I can hear at a certain point in this part is that dramatic build and crescendo that starts around 3:55 mins into the song. Hopefully the writing shows that.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Kaylee was panting, her hands on her knees, and sweat dripping from every inch of skin. Despite the two-piece cropped tank top and leggings Cassian had her training in, she was still so hot.

He handed her water his own sweat making his muscled forearm glitter in the sunlight. "You're doing great, Kaylee. The perfect little partner for me to spar with right now." She looked at his beaming smile, a brow raised, before sticking out her tongue and making the male laugh. "We're done for today, but Rhys and Amren will be coming to work on magic with you." Kaylee looked at Cassian, her brows raised, waiting for the information she secretly knew was coming.

Cassian sighed before continuing. "Azriel is still holed up with Nesta and Elain at the House of Wind. He's the only one Elain will respond to. I'm sorry, Kaylee. I understand your frustration." She knew Cassian did just based on the distant look in his eyes.

It had been two weeks since they discovered Elain would only speak or allow Azriel near her. It drove the new feral part of Kaylee's mind and soul to madness when he'd come to bed, reeking of Elain's soft floral scent. He would comfort Kaylee however he could those first few days, but at the start of the second week, a switch had flipped. Az stopped sleeping with Kaylee. He stopped eating lunch with her at the Riverhouse. He stopped sending his shadows to spend time with her.

Kaylee had never been a jealous person before this. She had never once questioned her self worth or value, but this had her wondering why her mate wouldn't spend time with her, why he actively avoided her, when she stopped being enough for him.

A hand on her shoulder ripped her from the void she was allowing herself to fall into. "Stop doing that to yourself," a soft voice said. "He misses you too. She just-" Rhysand paused to turn Kaylee to look at him. "Elain only eats when Azriel is there, and therefore Nesta will eat. I know it hurts, little bee. I am sorry." Cassian muttered an inaudible phrase before kissing Kaylee's forehead and moving inside. "Take a bath and a nap, Cass. It's an order." Cassian lifted a single finger over his shoulder as he moved inside.

Rhysand crossed his arms over the black t-shirt he was wearing. He was dressed casually today, indicating to Kaylee they were heading into the forest. "Once she is stable, Kaylee. He will be comfortable coming home." He offered her his arm. "Amren is already in the clearing we will be using." She took his arm, closing her eyes tightly as he winnowed her away.

They had left Kaylee in the center of the clearing meditating. She was acutely aware of every sound around her. From the rushing water in the creek, to every soft scurry of small rodents around her, Kaylee heard it all.

Even with her eyes closed, she felt as though she was seeing clearly. She was watching the forest move past her slowly from higher than she had ever stood. Strong legs carried what felt like her body. A stable mind moved her without thinking about it's path. She watched as hooved feet moved into a crystal blue lake, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on warm legs.

Two heart beats became one as Kaylee tapped further into that feeling. She focused solely on that rhythm beating into her own chest until it overtook every sense she had left.

And then, to Rhysand and Amren's shock and horror, Kaylee disappeared.

Rhysand ran the clearing, searching in the air for any signs of her, before landing and looked at Amren. "Did she just shatter the shield we had in place?"

Amren smirked, her voice light and airy. "She did. I told you she would. You didn't listen. Idiot."

Rhys immediately called for Cassian and Azriel, cursing himself loudly as Amren smirked and began to walk along the forest line, watching for any indication of the young sister.

While Rhys was too lost in panic causing him to only look for obvious signs, Amren had predicted this day's ago when Kaylee's power first tried to tap into her own being, and then Rhysand's beast form, only to have both of them turn her away. And this was confirmation to one clear thing to Amren, their beasts only turned them away because sweet Kaylee was not strong enough, yet.

Her silver eyes locked on several butterflies and bees, dancing together, twirling together, and flying into the same direction deep into the trees.

Azriel appeared first, his face exhausted from lack of sleep. "What happened?"

Cassian landed at the same with a loud thud, a brow raised at Rhysand. "It happened, didn't it?"

The High Lord nodded slowly before turning to Azriel to explain. "Amren and I have been working with Kaylee to distract her. She started almost tapping into the essence of an animal in the forest after she unknowingly attempted to tap into my beast form."

Rhysand held his hand to Azriel as the shadowsinger immediately began to try to speak. The sun had begun to set, and finding Kaylee was going to be impossible in the dark. "It was almost as if her powers made it so she and this animal could become one being, one mind, one body, one soul."

Rhysand paused. "Yesterday things came to a head. She almost tapped into it fully, but she could not sync something. She became frustrated and we could not figure out why, and she could not express why. Armen suggested quiet meditation today instead of us guiding her, and we learned today what it was. She needed to sync their hearts. As soon as she did, she disappeared. I could not tell what she was linking with before it happened, though."

Azriel felt anger setting in slowly and his shadows immediately left him to search for his mate. "So my mate with powers we do not understand is somewhere in the forest with Gods knows what? Why did no one tell me this was starting? I should have been here! I should have been with her! If you had not ordered me to take care of Elain, I could have been here."

Rhysand wanted to answer but he was interrupted as Amren whistled and pointed up and then to the ground. "The creatures are all heading the same direction." The ancient being began to slowly follow their path. "Are you idiots coming or are you just going to stand there with each other's dicks in your hands?"

They trekked for what Azriel's heart felt like was hours. Every snap of a twig, rustle of leaves, and song of a bird had him on edge.

His Kaylee, his sweet defenseless Kaylee, was somewhere in this forest, a forest he, Cassian, and Rhysand rarely even entered because of the dangers that lay in it. Not even the trees themselves in this forest could be trusted. They almost moved with minds of their own at times, trapping fae within the hallowed ground that these woods have become. It was filled with wildlife that had a taste for blood, lower fae that enjoyed harming others, and countless predators. This was not a safe place for his mate who had hardly begun to use her magic and hardly knew how to fight. Azriel had already made up his mind. If anything happened to Kaylee while she was alone out here, he'd kill Rhysand, and based off the look his brother had just shot him, the High Lord knew that.

Amren was far ahead of them. Watching closely as each bird flew further and further into the heavy bush. She had no choice but to believe they would lead her to the High Lady's youngest sister. After another few miles, she finally paused, stopping them on the edge of another clearing that surrounded a quiet lake.

They were all surrounded by countless animals who seemed to be watching with anxiety and anticipation. Rhysand moved to step closer for the ancient being to turn and growl slightly. "Not a single step closer, boy," her voice was hushed and tight.

There centered in the lake, her long blonde hair completely loose from the tie she previously had it in and blowing gently in the breeze was Kaylee.

She was waist deep into the blue waters, the sunshine was kissing every inch of her skin in golden light. It was as if she was radiating, as if she was almost glittering in her power. It was intoxicating for all of them. Seeing her like this had a small smirk forming on Cassian's face, it had Rhysand's breath hitched in his throat as worry and pride set in, it had Amren feeling her own soul almost buzzing, and something primal and deep in Azriel began to stir, something he hadn't even realized was there until now.

The sight was beautiful, but it was what stood before Kaylee that had Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys on edge. A great creature stood in front of her. It's head lifted in pride and dignity as it looked down at her form.

It towered before her on long sturdy legs lean with muscle, its dark red coat shone with health. It was at least triple her size and could easily harm her if it had wanted to. she barely reached its cream underbelly. The beast released a loud call, making the other animals all seem to flutter with joy. Itss antlers were twisted and numerous. Had they been in Autumn, this would have been a prized buck hunted for sport and hung above a mantle. Here, in its domain, though, it was clear this beast was the King of this forest, and on his head did not sit horns, but a crown.

It commanded respect, and clearly was testing Kaylee to see if she would offer it. Kaylee's right hand slowly raised, and she held it in the air, waiting for the red stag to welcome her touch, allowing it to make a choice. She would not force the being to her, but instead let it decide.

Not a single word came from the fae or animals as the King studied her, evaluating if Kaylee was indeed worthy for him in all of her glowing power. Azriel almost laughed as Amren's hand gripped Rhysand's wrist almost anxiously until Cassian's hand found his, gripping it tightly as well in support and worry.

In minutes that felt like hours, the great antlered animal began to move its head lower to Kaylee, and his decision was made as he put his long nose to Kaylee's palm.

Unknowingly to the four of them, the beast sent Kaylee a single message in the bond that was beginning to form between them. You are enough, little one.

Light came between the two as her skin made contact with his fur. It was white and almost blinding screaming of innocence, of untapped potential. It was warm, welcoming, but fierce in its own right.

"Beast tamer," Amren finally said slowly. "Kaylee is the Cauldron and Mother's beast tamer."

The two beings began to nuzzle each other closer, and Kaylee's forehead came to rest on the King's.

Azriel would have given the world to frame this moment. His mate shining as her powers were finally acknowledged and known. The happiness radiating from her soul. The tranquility between her and this monstrous animal was almost deafening.

His Kaylee, his honeybee, blessed with the powers long lost to the Cauldron.

And in turn, his Kaylee, his mate, cursed by the Mother with powers so ancient they had not been seen since the Gods of old roamed the lands.

Kaylee felt warm wet tears streaming down her face as the stag released another loud call, causing the other animals around them to begin to cry and call in celebration.

It is time to step into your power and responsibility. A deep voice rang into her soul. I am glad to be your first companion on this journey, Kaylee. Now go to your mate. He is terrified.

Kaylee turned around, seeing Amren and Rhysand smirking behind her. Cassian was wearing a beaming smile as he smacked a hand to a stunned Azriel's shoulder. The Little beings of the forest moved, creating a pathway. "Az, I made a new friend."

Azriel moved forward. Stepping into the water and getting close to her. "I can see that, my heart." He moved closer again slowly. "Am I allowed to come get you?"

The king, in response, pushed gently on Kaylee's back, throwing her into Azriel's arms. I will be in the clearing you normally train in tomorrow. He moved with another call, causing the animals to return to their normal lives.

Azriel held Kaylee tightly as they flew back home. Amren had opted to fly with Rhysand ahead of them, looking back at the two of them and Cassian.

Once they landed at the Riverhouse, Azriel did not give Rhysand and Amren a chance to ambush his mate and carried her up the stairs to her room.

He slept in her bed that night, his arms locked tight around her, wings cocooning them in. He fell into a deep sleep, accompanied by dreams of them living in a cabin near that clearing with three small children and countless animals.

Meanwhile, Kaylee's dream was filled with darkness, the only light source coming from the lit torch she was holding. Her footsteps were the only thing she could hear aside from deep, heavy breaths and her own humming.

A huge creature with scaled skin was suddenly looking at Kaylee with one of its black eyes. It roared loudly, teeth bared to her before turning its large head and neck up. Fire erupted along the ceiling, allowing Kaylee to finally see its gargantuan body, rows of jagged sharp teeth, and massive wings. Kaylee woke up screaming in terror for Azriel. Her heart raced as she sat in silence, hand clutched to her chest, breath coming out in uneven shakes.

Azriel was immediately up, comforting his mate as Rhys ran into the room, his eyes wide in disbelief and locked on Kaylee. The high lord and shadowsinger held eye contact. "Kaylee," Rhysand began slowly. "Did you feel a call before you ended up in that cave? Did it feel similar to the buck?" She nodded, trying to calm her racing heart. "Kaylee, look at me. I need you to make sure you do not sync with what you just saw until we have a better understanding of your powers and more control. Bond with it in your dreams, speak with it, but you do NOT sync with it. Am I understood?"

The young sister just nodded. Azriel looked between his brother and his mate before gently touching Kaylee's cheek and moving her head to face him. "Baby, what did you see?"

Kaylee's eyes met Azriel's, they were filled with fear and tears causing his heart to clench. "A dragon." Kaylee took another still deep breath. "I saw a dragon."

Bound by Fate taglist:

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless @cat-or-kitten @knmendiola

@holb32 @mis-lil-red

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel multipart fic #multi part fic

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flodeshe · 9 months

Text

Astro Notes 4 💖🌟

I am not a professional astrologer.Keep in mind hese are just observations based on my experience and may not apply to everyone so only take what resonates. Thank you!

- First, I noticed Venus conjunct Moon people tend to be kind to everyone. They can't help it.They have a big heart.They can be very generous. It can be hard for them to say no. Some people might want to take avantage of them. Also, they can be people pleaser because of their desire to be liked among their peers, especially if it is in Libra ♎or Taurus ♉.I know someone with this placement, and even during an argument she tends to make herself very little,she almost tries to disappear from the situation.They want to avoid conflicts. They might have deceitful tendencies.

- I have a lot of trines and sextiles in synastry with a friend and I know that these are aspects usually considered as the "easy" ones within synastry. So, I have to say that we have a good time together and I think she's really nice but I find our relationship a bit boring sometimes, like there is not much excitment you know? And of course harsh aspects like square and opposition can add tension and difficulty to a relationship. I personally think that when I share some hard aspects whith someone, I tend to learn a lot from the relationship. And I usually build a strong bond with them, it brings more chemistry.But of course, it also brings conflit sometimes that I think are essential in order to grow. But of course, I repeat it : IT DEPENDS ON THE ONES INVOLVED IN THE RELATIONSHIP, some may prefer a lot of easy aspects. I have quite a lot of hard aspects within my natal chart so let's say that I'm used to internal conflicts lol

- I noticed Capricorn ♑ Venuses men tend to be attracted to people who are well put together. People who tend to be elegant and classy.

- We often talk about how Scorpio ♏ascendant/Pluto conjunct Ascendant or in 1st house are usually very magnetic to others. But what about Libra ♎/ Sagittarius ♐ Ascendant and Jupiter in the 1st house individuals ? They tend to attract a lot of attention and have amazing smiles !

- Aquarius♒ placements can give off independant vibes. Kind of like I don't care I'm good on my own type of thing. Also, A LOT OF THEM wear HEADPHONES!!

-I noticed that Capricorn ♑placements always have prominent or well defined teeth/ nose/cheekbones or jawline! It's crazy!

On the left ,Kate Moss (Capricorn ♑ Sun) and Naomi Campbell (Capricorn ♑ Rising)

Natalia Dyer ( Capricorn ♑Uranus, Neptune and Sun)

- Many singers who uses love as an inspiration for their art have Venus conjunct Chiron :

Taurus ♉Venus conjunct Taurus Chiron : French singer Jacques Brel, who wrote many beautiful love songs : Ne me quitte pas, Quand on a que l’amour, La chanson des vieux amants

Capricorn ♑Venus conjunct Capricorn Chiron : Olivia Rodrigo who wrote : drivers license (of course ! lol), traitor...

Gemini♊ Venus conjunct Gemini Chiron : Adele, who is super known for her love songs : Someone Like you, Hello...

Unfortunately sometimes this aspect in a birth chart can indicate someone whose love life get a lot of attention : Selena Gomez ( Leo ♌Venus conjunct Leo Chiron), Hailey Bieber (Libra ♎Venus conjunct Libra Chiron), Marilyn Monroe ( 28°45' Aries ♈Venus conjunct 0°24' Taurus ♉Chiron)...

- Water Moons ( Cancer♋ /Scorpio ♏/Pisces♓) might feel relaxed and at peace when close to the water. It might be very healing for them to go to the beach/river/lake..

- Fire Moons ( Aries ♈/Leo♌/Sagittarius♐) can be very adventurous. They are usually not afraid to be ridiculous. They can be quite loud too. They are the risk-takers lol

- Earth Moons (Taurus ♉/Virgo ♍/Capricorn ♑) usually love biking 🚴!

- Air Moons (Gemini ♊/ Libra ♎/ Aquarius ♒) tend to be very active people. They usually don’t sit still and need to do something that stimulates them.

(the pictures were found on Pinterest)

Thank you so much for reading this post!! I hope you are doing well and enjoying your life as much as possible! Sending love 💕and joy !

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limarieb · 2 months

Text

currently thinking about reader, who’s notoriously grumpy and angry all the time, being tough around everyone except their girlfriend, wanda…

although you’re seemingly grumpy with everyone else, you never appear to have any complaints about her. (maybe you’re biased, though... or maybe she's just better than everyone else.)

your anger never manifested physically, though; you only ever fought with your words or actions, like the silent treatment or harsh glares. after years of therapy, you have gotten better at keeping your comments to yourself until you were in a safe place to vent them out. you used to write in a journal before wanda; however, now that she’s in your life, she has offered to be your sounding board for all of your issues because she knows how much it all truly affects you.

while she completely and utterly loves you for who you are (personality and issues included), there are some things that she tries to implement in your daily life in order to further help you with your irritability. for example, she introduced a system for creating healthy dialogue so you avoid getting too heated, either at someone else or when you're simply ranting to her, and saying or doing something you might regret. she also implemented a traffic light system in regard to your emotions and irritability levels: red meaning "don't want to talk" or "too pissed to speak," yellow meaning "i'm not very happy right now, and i want to get it off my chest," and green meaning "i'm doing okay at the moment."

after a few weeks of doing a trial run with the system, she also began to use it; not only with her own issues, but for setting a boundary for herself if she was not in the headspace to provide you the support you may have needed.) so far, these changes have truly worked wonders for maintaining a healthy relationship with wanda, promoting the necessary honesty and communication.

when you do decide to talk to her about something that was bothering you, she would always make the time to listen to all of your rants about everyone and everything being dumb and stupid, whether it be over text or in person. it wouldn’t be mere passive listening, either; she would actively listen to your voice and try to provide advice when needed. if she figures advice isn’t what you need in the moment, she’ll just affirm your feelings and cuddle with you until you calm down a bit.

and you just accept all of her affection — no questions asked. with wanda, you find you actively seek physical touch and words of affirmation, unlike in the past. the second she touches you, even in a non-sensual manner, you absolutely fold. she can't help but adore how soft you have become around her, and she's grateful you have grown comfortable enough with her to simply feel your feelings around her.

(and may the gods above forbid any of the team members mention your newfound softness with the witch, for then they must face the wrath of your anger and her protectiveness.

sam entered, discovering her cuddling you on the couch in the compound's living area one day and decided it was the funniest sight. so, he naturally made a joke about it, stating how she must be the one who "wears the pants in the relationship" despite the personality differences.

"you better start running," the only words that left the sokovian's lips, eyes turning scarlet red.

he scrambled away, and you simply snuggled her closer.)

one of the best dates she planned, in your humble opinion, was “stress-reliever” themed. you both were having a… not very good week, so she decided that the two of you would take the day off to focus on yourselves. she took you to a rage room, in which the two of you took turns smashing everything. afterwards, she drove you both to a secluded picnic area, where you both wrote your deepest woes and secret onto a plate and then smashed them into tiny pieces and proceeded to eat your feelings with all of your favorite foods, which she packed.

she has learned over the course of your relationship that your anger and irritability was a product of both your genetics and your family. not that it has bothered her, because truly it hasn't — you've been nothing but kind and loving toward her. although, wanda, with her inherent empathetic nature, can't help but feel upset sometimes that you had to endure all of that unhealthy hostility while growing up. she just internally hopes that she has helped heal some of your inner child, at least.

occasionally, you have doubts about yourself, thinking you, in all of your 'darkness' and rain-like moods, were not worthy enough to be dating someone like wanda, who you viewed as the practical embodiment of sunshine. she reaffirms the depth of her feelings for you (and all of your various rants) each time you begin to feel like this, stopping the negative thoughts before you begin to truly spiral. she also takes the time to remind you her life is not always ‘sunshine and rainbows,’ given her history in sokovia and then hydra; and, yet, you still love her the same — so why would it be different for you? (it's during times like these that you appreciate how your girlfriend is a literal witch.)

...

a/n: well, i promised, didn't i? enjoy this "little" drabble as a little treat since my interview for that graduate school program went well!

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb #limarieb wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff headcanons #drabble #wanda maximoff fluff

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 months

Text

chapter xxiii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 4,500+

masterlist

“You are being awfully quiet, my dear.”

Y/N blinked, getting mentally awoken by Leonora’s comment. “Sorry, I just…I don’t think the hand-made gown tailored specifically for me was necessary.”

Leonora looked confused. “And why is that?”

Y/N’s gaze couldn’t lift from the floor as she answered, “I do not think it is wise for me to attend the celebration.”

All of the servants and seamstresses froze from the statement and subtly looked at their Lady of Autumn for indication of how they should react.

But Leonora, calm and collected per usual, just gave Y/N a gentle smile. She nodded to the seamstress that was kneeling at Y/N’s foot to continue her work.

Then she looked up at Y/N without judgment or worry, but with an encouraging smirk and soft eyes. “Why would it not be wise for the mate of our new High Lord to attend his coronation, Y/N?”

The witch finally looked up from the ground to meet her gaze. “Will it not give the people of his Court the wrong idea? I am not the next Lady of Autumn, nor have I accepted his bond. I do not wish to put Eris in an uncomfortable position.”

Leonora gave a sad nod. “I see…” she sighed.

She turned around and gave everyone in the room a soft request to leave the two of them.

Y/N’s heart started beating faster as she watched them all quietly exit.

Was Leonora about to scold her? Yell at her for refusing to accept her son as his mate?

No, that couldn’t be it.

Leonora had been nothing but kind to Y/N since they met. Never once did she pressure her on behalf of Eris. She hardly ever brought up their relationship. Most of the time, Y/N felt like Leonora was just happy to have a new female friend in the Forest House, especially after so long of being a prisoner here.

Leonora offered Y/N her hand to help her off the platform she was standing on for the seamstresses. Then she held both of her hands gently as she told her, “You forget, Y/N, that you are more to Autumn Court than simply the mate of its new High Lord.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed.

Leonora smiled. “You are their savior. Yes, it was Eris who slayed Beron in the end. But he would not have had the courage or strength to do so without you. Most in this Court despised and feared Beron Vanserra. You have given this Court a chance for change.”

Y/N’s face grew hot from the praise.

Leonora gave her a sympathetic look before adding, “But also I cannot say that as Eris’ mother, I do not also have selfish motives, as well. You make him stronger. I worry how he will be if he if he goes through such a coronation alone.”

“But you and Lucien will be there,” Y/N tried to argue.

Leonora tilted her head and gave her a look. “It is not the same, and I think you know that, my dear.”

Then she looked down at the beginnings of the dress on Y/N’s body that the seamstresses had begun.

“As for the dress, Eris wishes to spoil you with finery and I can’t argue with his intentions,” Leonora teased with a smirk.

But her expression sobered. “However, I know neither he nor anyone else will fault you for avoiding such a celebration. So much has been thrust upon you, and in so little time. You must do what is best for you.”

Y/N frowned and looked down at herself. “I will let them finish the dress – if only to please everyone. I would feel bad for throwing away all their hard work they’ve already done.”

Leonora nodded. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

In the following weeks, the Forest House was bustling with activity.

Apparently, the coronation included inviting every High Lord and Lady of of Prythian.

Which meant the servants and cooks were frantic with preparations. Lucien had explained to her that the staff saw this as an opportunity to show why Autumn Court should be considered the best of Prythian. With a new High Lord came a new chance to prove that Autumn Court could change for the better and they were not to be overlooked.

Therefore, Y/N tried to stay out of everyone’s way. She either hid in the library, continuing her personal research or she was in her workshop, keeping herself busy with spells and potions.

However, on the day of the coronation, she stayed hidden in her bedchambers, scared that leaving would only bring attention to the fact that she would not be attending the festivities.

Maids and seamstresses had knocked on her door early in the morning. But Y/N simply ignored them, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment when she told them she would not be going to the coronation.

Y/N tried to distract herself by the fire, sitting on a chaise lounge with a romance novel in hand when more aggressive knocking came at the door.

She planned on ignoring it again, but then she recognized the group of voices on the other side.

“Y/N, if you do not open the door, we will break it down!” Nesta threatened loudly.

She jumped up and hurried to the door to whip it open.

On the other side, were her three Valkyrie sisters: Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie.

Not only that, but they clearly dressed and done up for the coronation.

Nesta wore a simple black, velvet dress. But it was not simple in the way that it fit her body like a glove and edged toward risqué. Y/N had always appreciated how Night Court attire never strayed from being seductive and showing skin. Gwyn wore a more elegant black dress, which made Y/N wonder if Nesta was using her mate’s money to buy her friends luxurious gowns. Emerie wore leathers, that could have been a warrior’s uniform, over pants. Though less feminine, they were still formal and lavish in their own way.

When the Illyrian saw Y/N eyeing her outfit, she shrugged. “I was never really one for gowns…”

“You all look beautiful,” Y/N muttered. “B-But w-what are you doing here?” Y/N gasped in shock.

“We’re here for you, obviously!” Gwyn urged and pulled Y/N into a warm hug.

“Eris invited us,” Emerie confirmed with a smile, also walking into her rooms.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Nesta asked, looking Y/N up and down as she closed the door behind them.

Y/N frowned. “I…I am not going.” Her eyes stayed down, scared to see their reactions to such a confession.

But, without hesitation, Gwyn announced, “Then we will stay in here and drink ourselves silly!”

Y/N’s jaw dropped at how unfazed her friends were. “B-But you will miss the festivities. And you all look so lovely.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “This will not be our last opportunity to dress up. We would much rather hang out with you than all the stuffy High Lords and their nobles.”

Then Emerie nudged Nesta. “But we must still tell her our plan.”

“Plan?” Y/N questioned, eyes scanning all of them.

“Helion Spell-Cleaver will be in attendance!” Gwyn squealed.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, immediately thinking of Leonora and Lucien. She wondered if the Lady of Autumn would ever reveal to her past lover and her youngest son of the secret relation. Or if Leonora would ever follow her heart and return to Helion.

“Yes, all of the High Lord’s have been invited…” Y/N muttered, not understanding their clear excitement.

“Helion is the sole owner of the last of the pegasuses,” Emerie explained.

Nesta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “And he makes sure to remind everyone of it, using them as his transport to any event he possibly can.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped for concern. “Please, please, please tell me you do not plan on stealing Helion’s pegasuses.”

“Don’t be silly,” Gwyn brushed off. “However, we do plan on sneaking into their enclosure to give them some pets.”

“And perhaps seducing Helion into giving us one or two…” Nesta added while looking at her nails. Y/N gaped at her. “What? He’s already propositioned me to join an orgy once when I visited Day Court.”

“Yes, before you accepted Cassian as your mate!” Emerie pointed out.

Nesta quirked a brow. “Who said Cassian would not be participating?”

“Those smutty books of yours have given you too many ideas,” Y/N laughed.

“More like inspiration,” Nesta corrected. “And inspiration that my mate is very enthusiastic about trying.” Then she pointed to the book Y/N had been reading when they arrived and quirked a brow. "Do not pretend you are above them."

“OK. Enough about your bedroom habits!” Gwyn interrupted. Then she turned her attention to Y/N. “Are you in or are you out?”

The witch smiled. “Of course I’m in.”

Minutes later, they were sneaking around the Forest House, Y/N led them toward where she assumed any guests horses would be quartered for the night.

But before they could reach it, a gust of wind wrapped around the females.

“He…needs…you,” The wind whispered to Y/N. “Go…to…him. He cannot…do this…without you.”

Y/N froze in the hallway.

“What? What is it?” Emerie asked.

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. “Eris needs me. I will catch up to you later.”

“Oh, for Cauldron’s sake!” Gwyn cried. “As if we would make you go alone.”

“She’s right,” Nesta added. “Someone needs to do your hair and makeup.”

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris swore his back had a metal pole along his spine with out tense and stiff his posture was. He knew his expressions were cold and unwelcoming. But he was in a room with too many people he had yet to decipher friend or foe. The nobles of Autumn Court smiled at him, but most only wanted good favor with the new High Lord. And for those that weren’t smiling, there were plenty that looked at him with fear or uneasiness, trying to gauge if he was just as bad as Beron.

His mother kept giving him tense, but encouraging smiles every time he spotted her in the crowded hall.

When to use his mask and when to reveal his true self, Eris did not know.

It was easier when Y/N was by his side. She eased him, reminded him of who he truly was. The mask never felt needed when her scent surrounded him.

But his mate was not here, nor was she coming.

And Eris couldn’t blame her. These events of politics and groveling were conniving at their best and boring at their worst. If he could skip it too, he would have. But that was no way to officially take over the throne of a broken court that needed mending.

Eris once again caught sight of a group of courtier daughters. They whispered and giggled at him, hardly even bothering to subdue their staring. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed how they seemed to edge closer and closer as the night went on.

Yes, Eris was handsome and powerful. Female attention was not something he was unaccustomed to. But he knew what those females were truly after were the wealth and power being married to a High Lord would bring. It didn’t matter that everyone knew of his mortal witch mate. They wanted him for themselves regardless.

His attire did nothing to help him blend in to the crowd. New, custom armor glinted against the thousands of candles and faelight surrounding them. And the blood red cloak stood out – even in Autumn Court.

Eris threw back the rest of his faerie wine, hoping he could get drunk enough to keep his wits about him, while also making the evening go by faster.

“Another?” A male voice offered from over his shoulder.

Eris turned to see Rhysand handing him another full glass, Feyre glued to his side with a knowing smirk.

“I promise I did not poison it,” Rhysand added.

“At this point, you would be doing me a favor,” Eris grumbled, taking a sip immediately.

Rhysand smirked. “Already over being High Lord, Eris?”

“I became High Lord to make my Court a better place, not to rub shoulders with nobles and courtiers who wish to use me to gain favor…”

“And I’m sure being away from Y/N is only making your mood more sour,” Feyre muttered more teasingly.

“She may do what pleases her. I’m sure her Valkyries have found her by now and are keeping her company.”

“Are you quite sure about that…” Feyre asked as she looked behind Eris.

The High Lord of Autumn Court quickly turned to follow her gaze.

At the entrance of the great hall stood Y/N.

Eris felt the invisible string attached to his heart go taut. A feeling Y/N had not experienced, and probably never would.

Despite her entrance not being formally announced, many had gone quiet and began to stare.

Someone had pulled Y/N’s hair up and done her makeup. Though Eris found her beautiful regardless, the level of glamour around her made her magnetic.

Meanwhile, Y/N held her head high as she slowly, yet confidently, walked further into the room. She was doing a good job of ignoring the scrutiny, but Eris could tell that she was more than aware of the staring.

Her dress fit her perfectly. And while most attendees wore green and the rustic browns of the court, Y/N had not strayed away from vibrant red, almost looking as if she were glowing like fire itself. Eris realized it matched with his own cloak. There were strips of black in her gown that felt like a call out to her short time in Night Court, where she had already gained respect and acceptance.

Eris wanted to go to her immediately. But he had to hold himself back. There was a reason she was late and walked in alone, instead of on his arm. It was clear that she worried about making his court believe she had accepted the mating bond.

But if Eris had his way, he’d use his magic to shove everyone out of the path from Y/N to him. He’d stop any conversation he was having – no matter how rude or undiplomatic it was – to give her his full attention and affection.

“Will you not go to her?” Feyre asked, concern obvious in her tone.

Y/N’s friends of the Night Court were unaware of the the change in her relationship with the High Lord of Autumn. They did not realize how far the two had come, how much had changed. Everything was so much more complicated than how it had begun: a male desperately hiding his mate in a court that was not his.

–🍁–

Y/N felt the eyes on her. She wondered if all of them were judgment or if there was also just innocent curiosity.

She wished she’d forced the Valkyries to drink heavily with her before leaving her bedchambers, because being sober for this felt like a cruel torture.

The three of them convinced Y/N that she needed to walk in without them. That she needed to walk in confident and independent.

But Y/N underestimated how many stares she'd receive in return.

So, she decided to straight line to where refreshments were being served. Feyre had once warned her away from fae wine, for it is far too strong for mortals to consume in the same manner as fae.

But right now, Y/N didn’t care.

Of course she couldn’t make it there without overhearing a group of females. Whether they had noticed her arrival, she had yet to discern.

“Now that his dreadful father is dead, I wonder where the High Lord will find his…entertainment,” one female said somewhat quietly.

Another chimed in with, “I once heard he would only bed harlots at pleasure halls in other Courts, in fear that Beron would kill any female who could sire a child from him.”

“But now he has a mate. Surely that means any and all of our efforts will be wasted,” a third female added.

“Oh, please.” The first female scoffed. Y/N didn’t have to look at her to know that she was rolling her eyes. “She is not even a fae. Truly, how long do you believe we will have to stay away before her mortal life ends?”

This is a terrible mistake, Y/N thought. She should have never shown her face here. This was exactly what she had been wanting to avoid.

Obviously Eris was a desired male – High Lord or not. And who was she to get in the way of him finding a suitor that was of his Court, of his own kind?

But, suddenly, the females stopped talking abruptly.

Had they finally noticed Y/N’s presence? Did they even care enough to make sure she didn’t overhear such things?

“High Lord Eris,” the first one greeted overly sweet. “How lovely of you to join us.”

Y/N whipped around to find Eris’ eyes already locked to hers as he stood a few feet away from her.

He ignored the female High Fae entirely, not even glancing in her direction.

Y/N didn’t know how to address him in such a setting. She looked around before starting to lower her head into a bow.

You do not bow to anyone, Rhysand’s voice suddenly snuck into her head.

With her dress and fanciful jewelry, Y/N had removed her protective amulet that stopped any daemati from entering her mind. That meant the High Lord and Lady of Night Court were free to speak to her mind freely.

Ignore them, Rhysand added. He has been waiting for you all night.

Eris didn’t greet Y/N verbally. Because nothing would’ve felt right.

But his eyes said everything.

And slowly he offered her his hand.

Y/N’s chest heaved as she put her glass down before stepping forward and lightly placing her hand in his grip.

Without breaking eye contact, Eris lowered his mouth and kissed it.

Without hesitating, he pulled Y/N to him and tucked her hand under his arm so it gripped his bicep. Then he placed his other hand over it, securing her further to his side.

Without asking for direction, Y/N quietly followed him as he guided them to the center of the room.

There was suddenly a female gasp from behind them. Eris didn’t turn, but Y/N looked over her shoulder to see that the first female from the group was covered in red wine. So much so that it was dripping off of her fine gown.

And there was Nesta… holding an empty glass with a smug, but melodramatically innocent look. Gwyn and Emerie were trying to hide their amusement.

"My mistake," Nesta gasped deviously.

Y/N didn’t know when her friends had joined her, but clearly it was early enough that they had caught the dreadful things those females had been saying about her and her mate with their fae hearing.

Then there was a screech of fear and a soft growl.

She looked down to see that her new little pet fox, Ronan, was nipping and growling at the group of rude females. How he escaped from her bedchambers was beyond her. But clearly he didn’t like being away from her.

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing at the sight.

Then she whistled softly and Ronan’s head snapped in her direction. He didn’t need another command, so he floppily ran to her and Eris, trotting along beside them.

When she turned forward again, Y/N realized Eris was leading them to the throne.

And with the wave of his hand, Eris pushed his throne over a foot and a second one appeared magically beside it.

Y/N’s head whipped to him, wanting to ask him what in the Cauldron he was doing.

But then she realized he was making a statement. There were some who would question her and her relationship with their new High Lord. But Eris was announcing to everyone that she was to be treated and respected as their High Lady, whether she accepted his bond or not.

“Eris,” she whispered in a hiss.

Her anxiety was skyrocketing at the statement he was about to make.

But he ignored her subtle plea, and instead just said, “Head high, little witch.”

He guided her carefully up the steps that led to the throne and waited for her to sit before he took his own.

The room quieted and turned their attention to Eris.

Y/N controlled her expressions, but her heart was racing from confusion of what she was meant to do.

They will crown him now, Rhysand’s voice entered Y/N’s mind again. He wants you at his side, therefore you belong there. Act like you know it.

Y/N found both Rhysand and Feyre in the crowd, which was fairly easy since they were the only people wearing black in a sea of mostly Autumn Colors – except for the other High Lords that were in attendance.

The couple gave her encouraging grins. Then she found Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie standing next to them, doing the same.

Cassian gave her a proud and beaming smile.

Y/N listened as one of Eris’ advisors started speaking the ritual of crowning the newest High Lord.

It was shorter than she expected. Though she struggled with paying attention, too focused on maintaining her posture and composure while being put on the same display as Eris.

Then the advisor was standing behind Eris, slowly lowering a rustic golden crown atop his head. It was in the shape of fallen leaves, with subtle hints of autumn red and green in the detailing.

As soon as it settled on his head, Eris turned to Y/N with his hand outstretched to her.

Without hesitation, she took it.

Together they stood.

The room immediately lowered into a bow – except for the other High Lords, who only subtly bowed their head in respect.

Y/N found Leonora’s gaze amongst them and she had a proud smile on her lips, but it was not only directed at her son.

Eris helped Y/N sit once again.

People started moving closer toward the throne.

Y/N realized the courtiers and lords were swearing their allegiance now.

A male high fae stepped forward first, bowing his strawberry blonde head deeply.

“Lord Foley,” Eris greeted indifferently.

The male bowed his head again and then turned his gaze to Y/N, opening his mouth to formally introduce himself to her.

“You are Eoghan Foley?” Y/N asked him before he could speak.

The males eyes widened in surprise.

“You own the majority of farms in the south east territory, correct?”

The male looked even more surprised.

Eris smirked at his mate, deciding to let her speak while he watched.

“You are known for paying your farmers the most, even when Beron underpaid you in an attempt to raise competition amongst other lords.”

Eoghan bowed his head. “My workers deserve a fair wage, Lady Y/N. When treated with respect they are more inclined to stay and there is less loss.”

Y/N then turned to Eris, having a silent conversation with their eyes.

“And for that, you shall be rewarded,” Eris’ voice came out strong and confident. And the entire room could clearly hear it. His gaze moved about the room. “The days of exploitation are over. Those of Autumn Court deserve to be paid for their work. Such competition only turns us against each other.” His eyes moved back to the lord. “A bonus will be delivered to you before nightfall tomorrow, Lord Foley.”

The male looked taken aback at such a decision. He half-expected to find that Eris was no better than his tyrant father. But he was instantly proven wrong.

“T-Thank you High Lord Eris,” he said with another bow. Then he looked up at Y/N before turning his gaze to the floor. “And to you, Lady Y/N. Our people are already indebted to you for bringing Autumn Court back into the light.”

“I hear your wife is a talented sculptor, Lord Foley.” Y/N noted with kindness in her eyes. “I hope to see her work for myself someday.”

“Any time you wish, Lady Y/N.”

“Enough business and politics for tonight,” Eris announced once Lord Foley had moved back into the crowd.

Then he eyed the other High Lords who were in attendance. All of them had been studying him and his interactions carefully. “Otherwise, we shall be spilling Autumn’s secrets to our guests who have their own Courts to govern.”

His courtiers laughed lightly at his joke.

With the swipe of Eris’ hand, the lighting in the room darkened to a moodier setting. And the symphony took their signal to begin playing music.

The guests started coupling up to dance.

Once again, Eris stood and offered Y/N his hand.

She took it, but moved close to his side so she could whisper, “I do not know these formal dances.”

Eris squeezed her hand tightly. “Trust me,” he simply whispered back.

When they entered the center of the dance floor, Eris pulled them into the proper stance. “I will lead. Just relax and do not overthink it.”

And Y/N did just that.

Either the steps were not as complicated as she had presumed or Eris was good dance partner. But they swayed across the floor. And despite hundreds of eyes watching them, the room disappeared around them, and it was just them.

“Thank you for saving me,” Eris whispered in her ear as he pulled her even closer.

Y/N knew this closeness was more immoral and informal, but she needed it. And if it was improper, Eris didn’t seem to care one bit.

“I hardly did anything,” Y/N admitted softly.

“You did more than you could ever understand,” he countered quickly. “You continue to be my savior, Y/N.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Y/N confessed softly. Her lips quirked as she added, “The worst loneliness is felt while surrounded by others.” Repeating her past statement from the night he had confessed how lonely he'd once been in this court.

Eris stopped abruptly, pulling their dance to a halt.

His eyes slowly went from her eyes to her lips.

Y/N knew he wanted to kiss her. She could feel it. And she would be lying to herself if she said she didn’t want him to, as well.

Eris was calculating how safe it was to show such affection to his mate so publicly. Another voice in his head was telling him he should to whatever he damn well pleased.

A deep voice cleared their throat behind her.

They turned to see Cassian standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

He gave a polite bow to them. “I was hoping to share a dance with my favorite witch.”

Y/N smiled at his playfulness. But she also saw the hidden message in his gaze. Her friend was trying to save her if she so wanted it.

She turned back to Eris, half expecting him to be giving the Illyrian a death glare. But the High Lord only nodded, and slowly removed Y/N from his grasp.

“She has much to share with her friends,” Eris offered him.

“Shall we?” Cassian asked her with his hand offered.

The Illyrian's dancing just further proved how skilled Eris was. But Y/N didn't mind Cassian's clumsy feet.

“I am the only witch you know,” she glared playfully at him.

“Yes, but if I were to ever meet any more, you would still be my favorite.” He spun her sloppily, ignoring the steps everyone else was following.

He lowered his voice as he said, “I only wanted to offer you an escape. It seems tensions are high between the two of you…”

“Thank you,” Y/N told him with a frown. “I fear I am lost.”

His brow furrowed as he turned them. “How so?”

Her eyes surprisingly welled with tears. “Cassian…I-I-I love him.”

-------------------

I know it took me a long time to update. But I worked really hard on this. And I loved putting together everyone's outfits. 🥹

Please leave a lovely comment. You know I love a book report. @pancakefancake

#acotar #gust & flame #eris #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #high lord of autumn #lady of autumn #cassian #nesta archeron #gwyneth berdara #emerie of illyria

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wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Seven

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (Nicknamed Poppy)

WC: 6600

Warning: 18+ Blog/Minors will be blocked; Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

A/N: We’ll, there’s a lot here. This week was draining with a teething/no sleeping babe— but I was determined to get this finished! I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m excited for this part of their story! Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey again for her support and proofreading every week! And thank you to everyone who has continued to stick with these two dumb dumbs as they figure their shit out. Love you all!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Next

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dieter wills himself to regulate the adrenaline surging through him, it has his muscles tingling as its increasing levels spread through every pliable fiber.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

He takes in his surroundings, a steady attempt at grounding his mind, assuring him, keeping him present, giving him a chance to regain his composure.

He Sees…

The ornate tile that dresses the front steps to your Spanish Revival home, the perfect backdrop to the ‘welcome’ mat that greets him the minute he arrives to your place.

The sturdy wooden door attached to your home that keeps you protected, allowing you to live comfortably and securely without a bother from the outside world.

The well maintained landscape, no real knowledge of the specific varieties of plants that decorate the front, he senses a low maintenance and drought tolerant feel— a few things he had never heard of until moving in with Diem.

The way the sky begins to shift from its golden orange and purple hues to an even shade of deep blue as the sun tucks behind the horizon line, welcoming the stillness of the night.

The way he is actively replaying an episodic memory of you from just an hour ago when you had joined him at Diem’s house to read over his lines for his upcoming movie role.

“Are you sure you even want me doing this? I don’t know a single thing about acting. Can’t Diem help?? I don’t want to mess you up.”

It’s been a few days since the Capri re-grand opening. And a few days since yours and Dieter’s almost kiss.

There hasn’t really been a discussion on what had happened, or almost happened, only due to the fact that you hadn’t seen each other since Dieter had to leave to take Wren home.

Now you find yourselves sitting in Diem’s living room, on opposite ends of her sectional couch, ignoring the residual heat that is currently reigniting as you both look over the scripts you’re each holding— alone together, zero distractions.

“This scene is between two people who are navigating a new relationship, dancing around the sexual tension between them—“

The coincidence not lost on you.

“So, there’s no fuckin’ way I’d read through this with my sister. And I doubt she’d want to anyways, she hates this kinda shit, so I don’t even bother.“

“Okay, I’ll try my best, but if I fuck up—“

“You’re not gonna fuck up. I highlighted your lines in pink, just focus on those and you’ll do fine. Besides, you’re a teacher— you read stories for a living, just think of it like you’re reading to your class.”

“Dieter, it says right here at the bottom of the page in bold type, ‘HER EYES CLOSE AT HIS TOUCH FOLLOWED BY LOW SENSUAL MOANS’— there’s no fucking way I can imagine myself reading this to my class.”

You look up from the paper, his eyes already on you. You note the way his neck muscles flex as he swallows, the grip on his paper a little tighter— you’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

He touches…

The weight of his chip, the brass cool against his warm clammy skin, pulling it from his pocket, it sits heavy in his palm— a quick reminder that who he was doesn’t define him now. A few light tosses, before gripping it with his thumb and his forefinger, one last look before returning it to his pocket.

The compact device that connects him to everything important to him in a single touch, his finger navigating back and forth between the home screen image of Wren and him eating donuts then to the text you had sent not long after leaving Diem’s house — Poppy💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it — Then double checking the numbers on the house match the ones that you sent after he text back asking if he could come over tonight— a perfect match.

The silky strands of his ruffled dark brown hair as he tries to tame his wild curls, the cottony fabric of his gray weathered shirt pulling at it in such a way so it drapes over him just right, the rough texture of his faded jeans against his sweaty hands as he rubs them several times over where they hug his thighs— a blind once over of his appearance.

The way his hand skims over the velvety skin above your knee, the hem of your dress delicately dancing over his fingertips, the faint scar that now lives on the side of your thigh from a biking accident as a kid lays uneven under his gentle graze.

“Is this okay?”

Somewhere between shared lines, and fiery dialogue, Dieter finds himself sitting closer to you, his knee brushing against yours—hand so effortlessly placed on your thigh as he checks in with your comfort.

“Y-yeah— it says ‘HIS HAND REACHES THE APEX BETWEEN HER THIGHS’, so she would know that his hand is moving up her leg—.” Your voice trembles as you try to concentrate on the words printed in bold on the current page.

Looking up, you see Dieter’s focus solely on you, his folded script tucked between his leg and the couch cushion.

“That’s not what I asked.” There's a deep husk to his voice, his movements halted as he draws your attention away from the pages and up to him. “Are you comfortable with this, not what the paper reads or act is telling us to do. Is this okay with you?” Your consent, regardless of what the characters are doing, his number one priority.

“Y-yeah…” You murmur as you look down to where his hand is still subtly holding your leg. Your attention drawn back to his handsome face, placing your hand on top of his, encouraging him to continue his efforts.

He hears…

The symphonic resonance of the nightfall harmonics drifts through in the crisp evening air, a modest breeze carries the lilt of the chirping crickets throughout the stilled neighborhood, the rustling of the leaves scattered and swirling across the sidewalk, the faint cries of coyote pups awaiting the arrival of their mother who’s been in search of a hearty meal.

The way his heart beat reverberates against his eardrums, the thudding of his heart an emotive chorus, its pace evening out with each grounding thought.

The way your breath catches, its auditory staccato floats through the air and nestles somewhere deep within his mind, storing its melodic rhythm away as an echoic file, never wanting to forget how it sounds.

Dieter shifts himself forward, the crunch of the leather puckering as he settles a knee on the cushion, a hand gripping the back of the couch as he angles himself closer.

The crackle of paper startles you, Dieter grabbing the crumbled heap of papers and tossing it over his shoulder, removing any distractions that might be bothering.

Bit by bit you allow yourself to fall back onto the mound of decorative pillows in the corner of the couch. Dieter following your lead, keeping a close distance between you as he settled himself between your legs.

“When is Diem going to be home?” You breathed, a warmth spreads through your body as you fixate on the fact that this is really happening.

“Don’t know, at least an hour.”

A few loose curls fall into Dieter’s face, you lightly comb them back, the movements unhurried and attentive. Your fingers catching the frames of his glasses in the process, you gingerly remove them from his face, carefully tossing them to the side— producing your favorite lopsided grin from him.

Dieter pauses to study every little detail of this moment— the flash of want in your eyes, the way your fingertips skim over and around his taut biceps, the deliberate way the tip of your tongue wets your bottom lip before it’s drawn in between your teeth, the way your lungs continue to fill with the air you’re both sharing— he’s never felt more alive than in this moment.

He smells…

The night brings a refreshing scent of calmer air, the aromatic warmth of the citrus groves meld with the fragrant lavender farms that accumulates throughout the day, the herbal aroma that triggers a distinct nostalgic smell of his childhood.

The way your perfume mixes with your natural pheromones, the unmistakable notes of musky vanilla and orange blossom paired with your own unique scent stimulates his olfactory nerves, his spine tingling with pleasure as he breathes you in.

Dieter takes his time, deliberate in his own way, he wants to take his time— savor the moment.

He lowers himself down to the open space where your shoulder meets your neck— warm, delicate and inviting.

You angle your head, allowing him more space to move, your hands wrapping themselves around his neck, twisting his hair between your fingers.

Dieter places a soft tentative kiss to your shoulder, then slowly dragging the tip of his nose up the column of your neck, mindful of how responsive you are, nudging at your jaw before stopping.

“You’re so fucking soft.” His lips ghosting over your ear, voice honeyed and thick, his hand now situated on your bare hip, thumb toying with the seam of your underwear.

You nuzzle into the side of his head, his scent provocative in the way you crave it immensely. The smokiness of the sandalwood and cedarwood compliment the spicy musk and floral base— it’s Dieter, wild and delicious.

He tastes…

The ache for sustenance, a morsel of pleasure activates his taste buds, a palatable desire that he craves in hopes to fight off the hunger that plagues him.

A fieriness burns through your body, causing you to lose all ability to properly handle the way Dieter is making you feel— ravenous. You need more, something substantial that satiates the emptiness and the yearning.

The unfaltering look in his eyes, an unspoken feeling of infatuation that has you melting under his gaze.

Dieter leans in, gradually closing the gap between his lips and yours, sparking the immediate surge of oxytocin actively flowing through your veins.

His breath fanning across your lips, warm and minty, a brief remembrance of your almost kiss— several times over.

This position offers a new approach, angle of motion, feeling the fullness of his bottom lip catch your top lip, your fingers gripping tightly to his hair in anticipation as the weight of his lips begin to slot gently over yours.

*CLICK*

“Dieter? I’m home!” Diem announces her arrival.

Releasing the breath you were holding, grip loosened, warmth lifted— another moment gone.

“Fuck me!” Dieter grumbles, his forehead falling to your shoulder, your chest vibrating with a silent laugh.

Dieter places a kiss to your shoulder then pushes himself back from where he had been hovering over you seconds before, helping you to readjust the flowy fabric of your dress, a silent look to you asking “are you okay?”— you nod yes.

His body slumps back into the cushioned backrest, head falling back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing away his annoyance at Diem’s horrible timing.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you were here too, Poppy. I dropped Wren off for a playdate and picked up some dinner on the way home. You hungry?”

“Umm, no I’m good. Actually, I’m going to head out. I’ve got— there’s some things I need to do. So, yeah— I’m gonna go.”

You feel like two teenagers who were caught by the other’s parents. That awkwardness that looms over afterwards, not really knowing what to say or do.

You give his leg a light squeeze, pulling his attention back from his sulking, propping himself up with his arms on his knees, grabbing your hand and returning the faint gesture.

“I’ll text you later.” You mouthed to him before grabbing your items from the coffee table and making your way to the front door.

“You still on for this Friday?” Diem asks you as she’s unboxing the pizzas she had picked up, arranging a few slices nicely on plates.

“Yep— yeah! Friday is still good! See you later.” Your response short and to the point as you close the door behind you.

Dieter can hear the rustling of the wrappers and then a stillness hangs in the air. His back is to where Diem is standing in the kitchen, but he can feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you mention she was coming over? I would have grabbed more food, we could have all hung out together.”

“It was a last minute thing. I asked her to come read lines with me.”

Diem rounds the couch and places the food on the coffee table, before sitting and making herself comfortable.

“So… Did you finally kiss her?”

That gets a laugh from Dieter, face falling into his hands at the ridiculousness of Diem’s question.

“No, I haven’t kissed her.” Tilting his head towards where she’s sitting, chin resting against his clasped hands.

“Oh my god! You haven’t kissed her yet? What the hell, Dieter!”

“Trust me, it’s not for a lack of trying.” He assures her, picking at the toppings of his pizza slice that had fallen onto the plate.

“I don’t get it. If you’ve been trying, then what’s stopping you from actually doing it?”

“You are! Literally every chance I’ve taken, you stroll on in and fuckin’ cockblock me.”

“Wait— you’re blaming me for you not kissing her?” The shocked look on her face is priceless and equally hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m definitely blaming you. You have the worst timing ever!” He laughed, because even as annoyed as he is, the whole situation is a little funny.

*BUZZ*

The vibration of his phone cuts into their conversation, a text from you pops up on to the screen, he swipes it open.

Poppy 💐- I have that easel ready, if you still want it. You’re more than welcome to come grab it.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

He wipes his greasy fingers with a napkin then tossing it onto his forgotten pizza. He stands to his full height, placing his phone in his pocket and makes his way to the door.

“Where are you going? I was going to turn on that one show we’ve been wanting to watch.”

“I’m— going out. Go ahead and start it without me.” He shouts as the door clicks closed behind him.

Uncle Dude - What’s your address? Be there in a few.

Poppy 💐- House number 402. White house on the left side of the street. See you soon!

The distance from your house to Diem’s is a short one, 3 minutes if you’re a fast Walker, 5-6 if you take your time.

Dieter was on his way— to your house.

You toss your phone onto the counter, and run to the bathroom. Not knowing how soon he was leaving after stating he’d be here in a few, didn’t leave you much time to freshen up.

You literally just saw him, so you kept it simple a few swipes of deodorant, clean away any mascara flakes and opting for a fresh coat of chapstick instead of lipstick— less is more approach.

2 minutes down.

Running through the house, you do a quick once over, grabbing any loose items, out of place items or kind of embarrassing items and tossing them into your hall closet— making sure to snag your copy of ‘My Pleasure: An Intimate Guide to Loving Your Body and Having Great Sex’ off of the coffee table.

4 minutes down.

Heading into the kitchen— Maybe he’ll want something to drink? You grab two tall glasses and fill them with ice, sitting on the counter waiting to fill with whatever Dieter wants.

5 minutes down.

Nervously, you stare at the front door, your nervous tick of picking at your fingernails keeps your hands busy. Should I turn some music on? Should I have put on a little more perfume? Maybe I should have brushed my teeth?

*Knock Knock Knock*

You grab for the door handle, pausing for a minute to take a deep breath, then cracking the door open to see Dieter standing on your front porch, hands in his pockets, casually looking down at his feet then up to you at the sound of the creaky door hinges— his face lights up instantly.

“Hey! Hope you found it okay?” You can’t help the dopey smile that grows on your face.

“No issues at all. Didn’t realize how close you lived this whole time.” He says, gesturing in the direction of Diem’s house.

“Yeah, almost neighbors.” Your smirk is laced in flirtation, your head leaning against the edge of the door in the most 90s rom-com way. “You wanna come in?”

“Sure.”

“Are you thirsty at all? I have sparkling and regular water, Diet Coke, and some beer— I haven’t made it to the store this week so I’m running low on things. I’ll be more prepared next time.” You ramble as you lead him into the kitchen, your nervous energy spiking just slightly.

“I’m good for right now, thank you. So, there will be a next time?” He asks, observing the way you bite at your lower lip when he mentions the prospect of a “next time”.

“Yeah,” You shrug your shoulders, noting the way the corner of his mouth quirks up and the light flutter in your stomach that follows. “I think so, if that’s what you want?”

“Yes, definitely want that.”

There’s a beat of silence, sans the sounds of home— the tick of the clock, the clinking of ice falling into the tray, a faint sound of music coming from another room.

“Oh! I—I have your jacket, I keep meaning to bring it over and then it would slip my mind…” Very much a lie, you were wearing it early this morning while you sipped your morning coffee, reading the latest chapter of ‘My Pleasure’… and you also might have worn it afterwards, when you needed a little— relief. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s totally fine. I mean, a little Birdie has been asking about it— it’s not a big deal.”

“Let me go grab it so I’m not tempted to hold it ransom for longer. Umm, help yourself to whatever. Then I can show you the easel, see if it’s something that will work for you.”

“Okay.”

Dieter takes in your home, it’s very much you.

Your love for plants extends inside, dozens of potted green plants, in varying shapes and sizes grace just your living room alone.

There’s a hint of a modern flare to your style, clean lines and lots of wood, a very neutral aesthetic— most of the color living as art work on your walls.

The art hanging throughout your home, he can only assume is your own. He’s drawn to the texture and the style of each painting— faint lines formed into human figures , landscapes resembling the world outside of these walls, and vivid abstract strokes of color adorn canvas everywhere he looks.

A soft glow catches his eye and like a moth to a flame, he’s lured to a dimly lit room— your art studio.

Large windows flank the walls, he imagines the natural light in the daytime is ideal in a space like this.

Tattered empty tubes of acrylic paint, evidence of being overly pinched to extricate every last bit of paint, strewn across a large table against the wall. Empty glass food jars repurposed as storage for your massive collection of paint brushes, while spatulas and other painting instruments lay haphazardly across the tabletop.

The table seems to double as a desk, once light colored, now coated in layers of colorful dried paint drips and spills. He runs his fingers over the surface, a balance of smooth and irregular textures, imagining the years you’ve spent standing over this table deliberately colors and mixing new ones.

Dieter thinks you must have been painting recently, a clear palette holds fresh dollops of paint in the center with a few experimental strokes on the side. He dips a finger into one of the little mounds, rubbing the emulsion between three fingers. It's cold and wet as it glides over his skin.

The wall of windows behind him he finds an easel, it too covered in coats of paint— a newer canvas sits in the support bar, a rough sketch of something just barely visible.

Next to where the easel rests, there are canvases stacked neatly against the wall along the floor. He analyzes each painting with regard, taking in each deliberate stroke and use of color— intently connecting with the emotions you’ve experienced in creating each piece.

He admires your tenacity. Through your long days of teaching at the school, little humans requiring so much of your attention for hours. To volunteering your time to help others explore their creativity at the gallery, planning and teaching weekly. And yet, you still find time to cater to your needs by doing something that makes your life more fulfilling, not allowing any roadblocks to deter your endeavors.

There’s an ache in his chest, a deep reminder of how different his life could have been had he not been bound by the shackles of Hollywood and the dark world that surrounds it.

Dieter had only ever dreamed of having such a space like this of his own, where he could chase a creative high and drown out the loud noises that followed him daily.

Stopping his thoughts before they begin to spiral, he thinks back to a motivational speaker he listened in on while in rehab. There were a lot of valuable words shared during the speech, but he remembers the line that really stood out to him— even through the darkest moments and afflictions that overpowered all his memories and people closest to him, it didn’t mean he is less worthy of a good life, a great life, moving forward.

Dieter realizes that with everything he’d lived through and how much hurt he had caused, he knows those things led him to this point in time— they led him to you.

“I ended up washing it, read the care instructions on the tag so I wouldn’t fuck it up. I found some melted Kit-Kats in the pockets and a few condom wrappers— this jacket has definitely seen some things…” You stop talking when you realize you’re met with an empty room, Dieter not where you had left him. “Dieter?”

There’s a slight movement that pulls your attention in the direction of your studio.

You find Dieter standing in the center of the room, the flicker from a burning candle emits a diffused light, washing his sharp features in a soft glow. There’s almost a pensiveness to his expression, hands tucked in his pockets lost in his thoughts, you watch him quietly take in the room around him.

“I see you helped yourself to a house tour.” You announce your presence as you enter the room, placing his jacket on the overstuffed chair in the corner then turning around to walk in the direction of your large art table, the skirt of your dress shifting from side to side as you walk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—“ He starts to apologize, realizing you both hadn’t set any boundaries with each other.

“It’s fine, I’m just messing with you. I hid all my incriminating things already.” You joke, but there’s something about him that makes you feel like you don’t have to be guarded.

“Are these for your showing?” He asks, pointing to the canvases he had just been studying.

“Yeah,” You say as you turn to face him, lean back against the table. “They’re all pretty much done— I’ll probably fine tune some things before the big day.”

“Can I ask what they represent?? I can see two figures— a man and a woman in some sort of intimate setting. I see the woman is fully fleshed out in color with distinct features, similar to your own— but the man looks like a shadowed figure, starting out blank, then slowly gaining color and personality in each painting— like an evolution of some sort. But what’s the narrative behind them?”

The way he’s analyzing your work, makes you feel even more captivated by him.

“I was having this dream— a nightmare maybe? For weeks, it would come to me every night, always starting out in the same way. I would feel him all around me— his hands, lips, everything. I would try to speak to him, but he would never respond, and I could never see his face, didn’t know who he was. Then he would vanish, like I had lost him and I would wake up in a panic. But as the weeks went on, it was like I could start to see him a little clearer…”

Dieter hangs on to your every word, he’s drawn in to your openness to share your thoughts so freely with him. He steps closer to where you’re standing, wanting to know more about these dreams.

“Go on.” He says softly, encouraging you to share more details.

“Some nights his face was a blur, but I could see his features, more clearly each night. And as his face became more visible over time, the dreams didn’t feel like I was losing him— it felt like I was gaining more of him. The last week or so, I can see his face— I know who he is.”

At some point in explaining the story behind your paintings, your eyes fell to the floor— the way he was watching you so intently felt overwhelming the closer he got.

“Who is he?” He asks, placing two fingers under your chin to slowly lift your gaze up to him.

“You.”

It’s a fierce softness in the way his mouth molds to yours, the gentle press of his lips is breathtaking— punching the air right from your lungs.

His touch is meticulous and thoughtful, resting his hands on your bare thighs, fingers lightly graze over your soft skin leaving a trail of tiny goosebumps.

Your hands snake up his body, settling back to where they were not so long ago— cupping the back of his head, slow drawn out scratches to his scalp.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs against your mouth.

“Y-yes— more than okay!” You breathe out— you’ve literally dreamt of this moment.

Experimentally you slowly swipe your tongue across his plump bottom lip, silently begging for a little more and he obliges, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. An equal exchange of feelings and yearning as the kiss alternates between a tangle of tongues and sweet pecks.

Dieter pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, his breaths ragged puffs across your warm face.

“Why did you stop?” Your breath equally as ragged, chest heaving as you question his halted movements.

“Be-because—“ His throat dry as he tries to regulate his breathing. “If we don’t stop, things will get— more serious.”

“I-I’m failing to see the problem in that.” You tease.

“I don’t have any condoms— I didn’t think we’d get this far with our track record.”

“I locked the door, after I let you in— didn’t want to chance any interruptions.” His chest vibrates with a soft chuckle at your response. “I’m clean and on the pill— but only if you’re comfortable.”

“I am, clean I mean— I’m clean, plus haven’t been with anyone in, well, awhile now. Might be a little rusty in all actuality.” He confesses, his thumbs still moving in sweeping motions over the tops of your thighs. “You sure you want this?”

“Very, very sure.” You whisper against his lips, grabbing one of his hands and dragging it slowly up under your dress to the throbbing ache that has settled between your legs since he started kissing you.

“Fuck!” His eyes flutter shut at the sensation of your bare cunt, nearly choking on air— his fingers start to tentatively swipe through your wet folds, watching as your eyes start to roll back in pleasure.

“I thought I had felt some kind of underwear earlier?” He asks, as his fingers coated in your slick start to draw lazy circles over your sensitive clit.

“Ah!— I-I did. But I was so keyed up when I — left, I came home and had to— Oh! I had to— Fuck I can’t think straight when you’re doing that!”

“Did you come home and touch yourself?”

“Yessss— Oh god!” You whine breathlessly as two of his fingers enter your heated core, remnants of your earlier orgasm fully welcoming him.

“You’re so perfect.” He exclaimed,

his free hand cupping your face, keeping you close, his thumb lightly tracing across your lower lip.

His two fingers continue to move in and out of you, working up so effortlessly. He presses a long slow kiss to your lips, followed by a few short light ones.

You can feel yourself moving closer to the edge, there’s a tingle running down your spine, converging with the fire that’s beginning to break within you. Your velvety walls begin to flutter around Dieter’s fingers, prompting him to kiss you a little deeper and it’s just the push you need.

“Oh my god! I’m gonna come—“ Your body begins to shake, your hands slamming done on your table— paint splattering into the air.

It’s an inferno of ecstasy blazing through your body, you wrap your arms around Dieter’s waist, clinging to him as you ride it out— letting the embers cool down.

Without a single breath, you grab for the button on Dieter’s jeans as he tries to pull at the straps of your dress. It’s a jumbled mess of limbs, but finally working in tandem to rid each other of clothes.

Dieter crowds you against the table, the edge digging into your lower back causing you to yelp.

“Are you okay?” His eyes etched in concern, as he scans over your blissed out features.

“Ye-yeah! The ta-table is digging.” You say, pointing to show him.

He bends down to grab onto the back of your thighs. “Jump.” He says as he helps guide your naked body onto the table.

His hands rest on the table as he leans in to kiss you again, unhurried as he licks into your mouth as he guides your body to lay down on the table.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Poppy.” He says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and over your chest, stopping and pressing his lips over the spot that he hopes to hold on to for a while— your heart.

The gesture has your eyes welling up, blinking rapidly to fight them off. You feel so completely overwhelmed by him, you have to actively stop yourself from telling him how in love you are with him.

He lifts himself off of you just enough to reach between the two of you, giving his cock a few hasty strokes before notching its weeping head at your entrance.

“Fuck!” He gasps as he slowly pushes his full length into your warm cunt— the slightest ghosting of your climax now pulsing around him.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in as close to you as possible, silently begging him to move, but he grips onto your leg to halt your movements.

“Wait— I need a minute otherwise this is going to be over before it even happens.” He says, resting his head on your sternum to give himself a moment.

“Dieter, it’s fine. Just take what you need— I’m— I’m good.” You feel more than satisfied with the two orgasms you’ve already had, you just want to feel him.

He slowly states to move his hips, several purposeful thrusts, wanting to savor the way you feel, the warmth already starting to bloom in his belly.

Dieter lifts himself off of you, sensing this new angle is pleasant based on how you start to arch your back off the table, his steady thrusts working you both up in a desired frenzy.

“Fuuuuck, you feel like a dream., Poppy.” His voice is hoarse, glancing down to watch the way your arousal coats him, his hands gripping your waist as he thrusting into with a little more earnestness.

“Dieter— I think I’m going to come again— oh god!!” You announced into the lust filled room, the tell-tale signs barreling through your body.

You try to grab onto something, hands looking for something to anchor yourself to, Dieter too far away and too lost in his own pursuit— each thrust is a little deeper producing your muscles to tighten on their own accord.

An unexpected swipe of Dieter’s thumb over your clit is blinding, sweet erotic sounds pouring from your mouth, hands slamming back onto the table, you're met with wetness, your brain registering where you are and that your hands are covered in paint.

The thick emulsion is cold when it hits your skin, your nipples pebble at the sensation of the paint gliding over them, your hands kneading the weight of your breasts— paint building up between your fingers with each calculated squeeze, each roll of your nipple sends you closer to your third orgasm.

You look up to see Dieter’s slack jawed expression, which only makes you emphasize your movements, giving him a little show. You’re arched back putting your chest on display, your hands working over your exposed skin covering your upper body in a rainbow of colors.

“Oh shit— shitshitshitshit— I’m gonna— fuck!” The sight of you sets Dieter off, folding himself over the top of you, face nestled into the crook of your neck as his thrusts begin to falter at the way your cunt begins to contract around him.

A gravelly moan against your damp skin and one final thrust, his hips still as he’s spilling into you.

The room is still again. The faint scent of your oud and sandalwood candle is overpowered by the sex hazed aroma. Chests moving against each other simultaneously, lungs begging to properly breathe, skin slipping with each pull of air— this might become your favorite way to create art.

A soft kiss to your shoulder as Dieter lifts himself up into his forearms, resting his temple against your jaw to give his arms a chance to regain their strength before giving you a softer kiss to your lips.

“That was—“ He’s still trying to regulate his breathing, words jumbled in his brain and not quite producing properly.

“Amazing!” You finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah— amazing.” He says, one more kiss because he doesn’t think he’s given you enough yet, then he’s slowly pulling out of you and helping you sit upright.

“What a mess we made of ourselves.” You laugh as you examine both of your colorful torsos.

“Worth it.” Dieter replied with a slight shrug and a quirky smile on his handsome face.

“I’m going to go grab some stuff to clean us up. I’ll be right back.”

Hopping off the table to head towards your bathroom, Dieter grabs you by the wrist, spinning you back towards him, your bodies flush against each once more as he gives you a toe curling kiss.

“Alright, hurry back.” He says, giving your backside a few taps.

You take a few minutes to freshen yourself up, wiping away as much of the paint as you can.

Throwing on a clean pair of underwear and a loose shirt, the hardwood cool against your bare feet, you make your way back to your studio where you’re met with an unexpected sight when you get to the door, Dieter sitting in front of your easel where your last canvas sits. His naked body wrapped in his fuzzy coat, his brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moves around the canvas with a paint drenched brush.

You take a moment to just watch him, leaning into the door frame, watching how he looks so relaxed and happy.

“You snoop and you help yourself to my painting, you sir are a menace.” You jokingly say to him, it earns you a generous laugh.

“Sorry, guess I’m two for two now. I saw you had it roughly sketched out and thought I’d paint you the way I see you.” He explained, leaning back into the small metal chair.

“And how do you see me?”

“Beautiful.” The word floats out and around you, its weight settling into that little space in your chest that has felt empty for so long.

“That’s two times you’ve painted me now— I think those would be grounds for someone to fall in love.” You tease, but there’s truth wrapped up in your statement. Pushing yourself off the doorframe, making your way over to where he’s sitting.

He places the brush in the glass of water, his hand reaching out for you to come closer, softly grabbing at your hips he’s pulling you down so you’re straddling his lap— fully aware he’s still naked and covered in paint under his jacket.

“Do you?” He has to know if you’re feeling the same way as him. “Do you, love me?”

“Yes.” Your voice a little wobbly, your emotions bubbling up in your chest.

But you do, you love him without a doubt and it’s the most terrifying and thrilling feeling you’ve experienced in a long time.

“I love you too, Poppy.” He whispers to you, his eyes glossy as he fights back tears.

“Why are you crying?” Wiping the single tear that has started to fall down his cheek.

“I’m scared— that I’m going to fuck this up. And you’re going to resent me. And I’ll be back to where I was a year ago— alone.”

Your heart nearly breaks at his confession.

“That’s not going to happen though.” Brushing his wild hair away from his eyes, caressing his face and hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t. But a wise man once told me— we’ll figure it out as we go.”

His arm wraps around your waist as his other hand cups the back of your neck, bringing your face to his, your nose bumping into his.

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips.

And before you even have a chance to reciprocate, he’s kissing you with so much love and feeling.

“Will you come? To see my showing on opening night?” You ask between feather-like kisses.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Poppy.”

It’s a few hours later when Dieter walks through the front door of Diem’s house, ready for a shower and sleep.

“You’re home late.” Diem’s voice sounds from the same spot on the couch he’d left her in.

“Uh, yeah. Lost track of time.”

“Were you at Poppy’s?” She asks with herround of motherly questioning.

“Yeah, I was. She had that easel, so I went to get it.”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“The easel.”

“Oh, I— I must have forgot it. We were talking, lost track of time. I’ll grab it another time. I’m gonna take a shower then head to bed. Night.” Hoping to throw her off his scent, the last thing he wants is to hear her boast about what you and him were up to.

“Night. Oh hey, Dieter.”

“Yeah.” Turning back towards her.

“Make sure you wash that cute hand print on your neck.” Her devilish grin beaming at him.

He gives her a middle finger for good measure, then heads to the bathroom.

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #pedro pascal #dieter x poppy #wildemaven writes

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krisstheidiot · 2 months

Text

× Midnight Brownies ×

Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Felix and you meet again years after highschool in a cafe on Valentine's day. When you two decide to go on a spontaneous multiple valentine's day activities spree, will past feelings sprout again?, will Felix finally answer your highschool self's confession?

Genre: fluff, highschool friends reunited(crushes)

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Fireworks

Your sister had kept you awake all night until 3 to help her decide what outfit she was to wear for her date with her boyfriend. Sleep was completely lost so you had decided to go on a long jog at 6 am and then got ready to hang out at a cozy cafe a few blocks down.

Ordering your usual latte with a slice of apple pie as you sit down at a table near the flower display outside, reading a book on your kindle enjoying the quiet despite the lack of sleep.

A deep voice speaks out of no where breaking your concentration as you look up in shock, finding a familiar face in front you...

"Hey miss is this seat free...?"

Those honey brown orbs, the galaxy like freckles spread on those plush fair cheeks and that cute heart like smile, The face not matching the voice at all as you come to realize who you were face to face with.

"...Felix?"

Tilting your head as you gasp softly and stand up with a bright smile, happy you encountered an old friend, said man looked down at your face in shock as he took in all your features. It was no doubt you were pretty but you looked so beautiful as the morning sun gave you your golden hour, eyes twinkling with golden orbs.

"Y/n..? Omg it's really you...!"

Felix smiled brightly as he suddenly pulled you in for a warm hug, which you happily reciprocated.

"I wasn't expecting to meet you here!"

Felix exclaimed happily as he pulled away and you both sat at your table to catch up on what's been going with your lives. A while later you got curious about why he was here all alone, fiddling with your fork and apple pie crumbs you finally decide to ask.

"Felix i was wondering why you are here all alone? That too so early in the morning?"

Felix chuckles as he sips on his drink while thinking of a way to word his reason without it being awkward

"Well its valentine's day and I am single but all my other friends are dating I woke up to one of them having morning sex so yeah I had to make my escape so i came here..."

"Oh..."

Felix laughs at the face you make as you nod sheepishly imagining how awkward the situation would have been.

"Either ways they probably would have teased me if I had stayed also I am avoiding social media so I don't get coerced into doing a stream because I am sure even my fans would tease me about being so lonely that I stream even on valentine's day"

You giggle as you imagine all the 8 year olds bullying an adult just because he doesn't have a partner. Suddenly a spontaneous idea comes up in your head as you quickly take Felix' hand and get up grabbing your stuff.

"You know what Felix let's go on a date right now! The one we were supposed to go to in highschool but never could because I moved away. I mean if that's okay with you...?"

Felix grinned as he nodded eagerly making all the uncertainty in your head disappear. You smiled as you took his hand in yours and left the cafe after paying.

Finding yourself at a retro arcade that was empty as you and Felix buy a shit ton of coins for all the games. Trying out every single one from bunch of scammy claw machines to every car racing game.

Any game you found fun you would do. Tetris. You name it you played it. With the last coins you decided to play a boxy zombie game that looked like a stupid rip off minecraft as you tried to distract each other hoping the other would fall into the pit of zombie while trying to bridge with the jammed buttons of the machine. Finally you managed to bag the win for who bridged the farthest by kissing Felix's cheek to distract him.

Smiling as both you and Felix's hands are full holding bags full of the tacky toys and gifts he won for you from the claw machines and all the old timey snacks and games you had won from winning the competitive games as you walk next door deciding to play laser tag since you had won two tickets to it.

Coming out of the place as you whine childishly complaining that Felix was just too fast and he didn't win fairly since he literally picked you up and shot your tag with his laser. Felix in tow teasing you that you were just too slow and small to be able to win and his win was completely fair.

"Let's get lunch yeah?"

Felix asks as he smiles down at you as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the nearby beach that was 10 minute walk away. You guys come to a stop in front of a shack restaurant on the beach itself.

sitting on a table facing the sea as you guys order what you guys are gonna eat while talking about anything that came to mind like you were back in Highschool.

Finishing up lunch as the both of you decide to visit the shops at the beach before leaving, as you browsed shop after shop as you go into a very neon coloured shop looking around at all the vintage and retro stuff as you pick up some old pokemon cards blind packs and buy it while Felix is wandering around buying something of his own.

Now, walking to an old cinema as you chat about what anime movie you should watcha at the cinema. Both deciding 'My Neighbor Totoro' would be best as you go inside the cinema taking some artificially buttered popcorn as you sit down in the empty cinema giggling like middle schoolers.

"Hey Felix earlier I bought these old packs of pokemon cards wanna open them with me like when in highschool?"

You suggested, glad that it was dark in the theatre so that he wouldn't know you were blushing as you saw Felix chuckle as he pulled out what he had bought earlier. It was a bunch of old candy with no nutritional value just sugar. Pure sugar. You grinned remembering how you both used skip classes to watch anime at the library while opening pokemon cards and munching on candies just like this.

"Honestly Y/n I missed this. I missed us."

Felis whispered to you while sipping on his now watered down coke since the ice had melted, you looked at him, eyes full of emotion as you smiled softly.

"I missed us too alot, I wished that i had never moved away then maybe we would be spending this valentine's day as a couple not as just friends..."

Whispering sadly as you look back at the screen hoping you don't start crying.

You feel him take your hand in his as he squeezes it slightly.

"Who says we can't spend it as a couple?"

Felix asked straightforward about his intentions behind the question.

You looked up at him slightly in shock trying to gauge out the joke in his question and intent. He nodded to reassure you that he was saying the truth and what he wanted wasn't to joke with you, it was to be with you. A look into his eyes was all you needed to reassure yourself. Just as you opened your mouth to respond he pulled you in and kissed you. It was soft and warm and full of love, his lips soft against your own as he put his hands on your cheek holding you there as you reciprocate the action. Pulling away after a while as he smiles down at you, eyes beating the ones a certain heart eyed emoji has.

"I loved you before. I love you still. And I am sure I will keep on loving you. That's how much I feel about you Y/n, baking isn't any fun without you when i remember how much fun we used to have when we baked together."

You looked at Felix, eyes glossy with tears as you breathe out shakily, overwhelmed by emotions as you hug him close to you and whisper.

"I love you too, I tried so hard to move on convinced that you probably did too, but this its not just a highschool crush it goes beyond that and I don't want to lose the good memories of you. I don't want to lose you anymore not after i waited so many years..."

Felix smiled as he kissed your head and ran his fingers through your hair to comfort you as he spoke. The movie long forgotten.

"You aren't losing me hell even if you wanted to you won't be able to get rid of me now so don't be sad Sweets..."

"Sw-sweets...?"

You looked up at him blushing like crazy as he smiled and patted your head. He looked like a bright ball of sunshine whenever he smiled.

"Well I am assuming that this means we are a couple now so I am just calling my lovely girlfriend a cute nickname!"

"Well if I am sweets then you are Sunshine..."

You whined as took your cup of coke and drank to hide your blush.

"I don't mind darling"

The nickname teasing fest continued as both of you tried making each other blush by calling each other the cheesiest pet names.

It was 8 in the evening as both of you walked hand in hand now as a couple not friends. Smiling as you walked in a nearby diner and sitting down at the table as your eyes adjusted to the the 90s theme the diner was sporting.

Fishing out some spare change as you put it into the jukebox placed near your table as you grinned up at Felix playing the song that you always did in high school. 'Summer love' by One Direction playing as both of you grabbed your spoons pretending they were mics and singing the lyrics and dancing together like idiots in love which you were.

Dinner ended with you two full and satisfied as you walked to Felix's apartment to spend more time together. Both of you ended up playing mario kart as he started vlogging for memories. That's what he said.

Later you decided that both of you needed a sugar high after as if all that candy earlier didn't do a number on your blood sugar levels.

Both of you in his kitchen while trying to bake brownies at 12:50 am. Flour on both of you as you sprinkled choco chips on the brownie batter before putting it in the oven that Felix had pre heated. Closing the oven door as you get up when Felix suddenly wipes your face with a tissue to get rid of all the flour. You look at him, his face now absent of any flour from the playfight you had when he called you small. Leaning slightly to look at the time.

"Wanna do something? we can turn on the oven after we come back from the last adventure of today..."

You said as you take of the apron and take his hand leading him outside as you walk back to the beach.

"So what is this adventure about sweets?"

"You will see Lix..."

Smiling as you reach the beach and tell Felix to go and sit on a bench while you buy a few things. Coming back with two bags of stuff that Felix had no idea to what it would be used for. You looked at the time on your phone as you asked Felix to countdown with you while your eyes are focused at the sky.

Few seconds later bright explosions were visible. Fireworks everywhere. The colourful sparks littered the sky as you looked at Felix. He was absolutely beautiful, his eyes reflecting the colors in the sky as his hair flowed with the wind and his lips parted in amaze as he looked at you.

"My sister wanted to be extra for her date with her boyfriend so she decided on fireworks at the time when she had first met him."

Smiling back at Felix as you turned to look at the sky when suddenly Felix pulled you in to kiss you. Smothering you with kisses all over your face as you giggled under his attack. Few minutes later he stops as you smile and dangle the bag that you brought earlier in front of him.

"I brought sky lanterns and sparklers so we could have our own little light show..."

"I remember when all our friends went to that park at 12 am just to look at the sky lanterns that everyone released"

Felix said in response to your suggestion as you both pulled out the sparklers and played around for awhile, later taking the few sky lanterns and lighting them and releasing them while holding onto each other like the couples that were in the park the night you confessed to Felix while watching the sky lanterns float in the sky.

Watching as the sky lanterns you released float together while you hug each other. This may be a cheesy holiday for some but this was the day you found your love. The one that would stay forever with you. The love where you would go back home at 3 am and eat brownies and then cuddle and fall asleep on the couch.

This is your love and it is yours to keep forever and ever.

Because just like the sky lanterns you lit you burned bright for each other and would find your way to each other no matter how far you could be.

He was your sun, you were his star.

@!directory

A.N: Helloo! I am Kriss I hope you liked the oneshot it was kinda rushed and sorry if it was too cheesy. Anyways Happy Valentines day to everyone, to all the ones who are dating - enjoy your special day, to every single pringle - treat yourself to anything even if it's a small chocolate bar! Have a great day/night. Byeee!

Stay Tuned for more!

#felix yongbok #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix #skz felix #felix x you #felix x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

Note

I think there's an argument to be made in favor of showing the reality of what Angel deals with on the day to day, both on the gear he wears and the SA he faces from Val.

but these kinds of scenes can very easily be exploitative; used for cheap shock value & end up fetishizing that abuse by presenting it as titillating. it's long happened to female characters where the violence becomes an excuse to show them brutalized or with their clothes ripped off and given how often Angel is sexualized it can just as easily happen to him.

Addict managed to communicate a whole history of sexual abuse committed by Valentino with just a forced kiss and a hard cut to Angel having a breakdown in his room. The scene focused on Angel's emotional distress rather than the act itself, so it avoided objectifying him further and was still effective

this is part of a wider pattern already established by Helluva Boss, where abuse is treated in the least sensitive, most sledgehammer blunt and cartoony way possible.

going by HB, abusers are:

always obvious and easy to spot,

they're complete monsters devoid of any life or interests of their own,

they have no inner lives whatsoever because they only exist to hurt the victim (Stella stays around the house despite not liking Stolas, Crimson wants to force Moxxie into a gay marriage despite being homophobic - to the guy who put his son in prison in the first place!!) - they're inconsistent and unknowable,

they abuse their victim openly in front of others everyone goes along with and tacitly approves of it (Stella's friends happily laugh at her jokes disparaging a demon prince who could kill them all despite knowing he's in earshot)

they cannot be easily stopped even when they have far less power, either in magic or social standing, than the person they're abusing (Stolas and Stella, again)

they hang around long past when they should despite the cast having ample reason to proactively do something to stop them (everyone leaves Crimson alive despite killing all his minions, Stolas knows Stella has ordered a hit on him but probably still lets Octavia spend weekends with her??)

they are fundamentally Bad People. None of the 'good' characters can every be called out for being abusive, what they do is funny - because they are fundamentally Good People. It doesn't matter how many traits Stolas and Stella have in common, he is Good and she is Bad. It also doesn't matter that Stolas sexually coerced someone for a season and a half, neglected his daughter and abused his servants, and barely feels bad about his own infidelity. He is Good so anything he does can be excused. Same with Loona - beating people is bad, but it's OK for her to give her dad a black eye and beat his head in with a picture frame, because she's one of the Good Guys. Same with Blitzo demeaning Moxxie constantly in the workplace - it's funny when he calls Moxxie fat, it's abuse when Mammon does it to Fizz

Abusers are fundamentally Other from Us, and we never need to examine our own behaviors as long as we know we are fundamentally Good.

like how is any of this making the world a better place? or advancing the understanding of abuse? it's an embarassingly dated and in places actively harmful depiction of what abuse is or isn't (I don't even want to get into the bad takes I've seen surrounding Stol/tz and what coercion is or isn't, but you can probably add that to the list too)

if the Angel scenes are as brutal as they sound then the rating should be an 18. I don't entirely blame Viv for that, I know sometimes ratings boards have a weird habit of treating works that have LGBT content as somehow 'more adult' than movies with straight up rape and SA scenes in them (though HH is both, so idk how literal bondage gear didn't up the rating), but I hope against hope there's some kind of trigger warning for this somewhere, and it isn't just dropped on the viewer's lap in order to shock them further with the world's bluntest and most graphic animated scene of SA it can

This. All of this, every word.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #hazbin hotel critical #actual blog post

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mintchoccy · 9 months

Text

THE GIRL WITH A BROKEN SPINE

NMIXX Lily Morrow

actually this is my first oneshot differently from my "Untitled" series. enjoy! (ps. inspired from this one heck of a piece. another version from that piece has been published by my friend @elryuse in their Wattpad. go check those two out!)

"get over here!"

Lily grabs the hem of your shirt, dragging you to the stockroom owned by the PE faculty. You don't expect this behavior to your senior, who was the smartest student in the school, as well as the school's singing champion.

For a quick rundown, Lily Morrow, is your senior. Right after you enter the campus on your second year of high school, you fall in love with her, but you can't express it directly. During your first school assembly, you were starstrucked on her beauty alongside her powerful voice as a member of a girl group named &Nixx.

As the school year came by, you and Lily had little or none interactions as you are focused on your studies, so does Lily. During school assembly, you always see her performing with her group and you could only just watch there, and admire. Only admire. As she goes to perform, you could shout for her attention.

“LILY-SUNBAENIM, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!” “LILY, I LOVE YOU!”

The second one could only hit her hard, as she started to lose some focus as she tried to find the source of that voice. The voice that found her happiness, that kind of admiration. However, as they finished the performance, she could look for nothing. But until then, a guy came to her, who is coincidentally trying to find her as well.

“Lily Morrow, from Performing Arts?” you asked. “Y/N Lee, from International Studies.” she replied.

As you hand her some liquids and your handkerchief as her refresher, you had just shoot your shot for her. Sounds cheesy but it was your first time to make a move on a girl for a long time. You can see that she finds it funny, but you don’t mind because that’s the way of trying. Nothing seems to go wrong, right?

Wrong. Ever since that incident, you thought she found it annoying so you decided to stop approaching her during her breaks, or even eat with her for lunch. Oftentimes, you go the other way when you see her approaching you, making her mad at you. Lily would think to herself why she feels like you annoyed her at times but in reality, it just makes things even easier for her to love you.

It would get worse when Kim Jiwoo, or Chuu, your best friend's friend always hangs out with you, making the case more difficult with her and you on her goal to get your heart.

In the school comfort room, you are inside in one of the cubicles, fapping to porn. Lily, on the other hand, is currently on her not-so-normal activity of fishing you out where you could have go. This time, you are in the men's CR, and she quickly entered inside silently.

Confusingly, you immediately halted on what are you doing because maybe there's somethin entered, but unbeknownst to you, Lily silently locked the door, putting a sign saying "under repair" to avoid suspicion. After a few minutes, you return on what are you doing.

Playing the video again, you take out your cock, and gently stroking it, imagining it was Lily's hand stroking you. "Oh god, Lily, please stroke it more", you muttered. Lily, on the other hand, was turned on at what she's hearing. Yes, she always masturbated for you, but from your voice itself really hits right to the bone.

To your cubicle, Lily sneaks at the front of the cubicle door, silently hearing those moans. "Fuck! Oh yes, that's the spot! Keep sucking me with your tongue!" You moaned. Lily wasted no time and she pulls down her panties, putting her fingers quickly to her clit.

"Mfffff, ohhhhh" Lily moaned, but not as loudly as you moaned. She muffled her moans in order to not get any attention from you and caught her jerking off to you as well. Exchanging moans back and forth, uttering out each other's sexual pents to each other.

"Fuck, you're so good Lily-ah, please suck me more!" you moaned. "That's it baby, eat my cunt even more! Fuck, feels so good!" Lily moaned.

Both of you cum intensively, with Lily falling into her knees, dragging her down to the ground, behind a closed door where you are staying.

After the session, you immediately cleaned yourself, and put the soiled tissues on a bag you brought for later disposal. However, while leaving the cubicle, you found someone who is oddly familiar to you.

"Lily?", you asked, finding her half-passed out, her skirt wet and panties ruined. From that point, you know it's checkmate.

Lily on the other hand immediately woke up and instantly looked up to you. Shocked at your state, fully clothed and ready to leave, but yet puzzled face. She then pulled you in back to the cubicle, didn't care the puddle on her spot.

"Now, I heard you moaning for me?" Lily asked. You could only send a glare on her, speechless for her aggressiveness. "Well, if you won't talk, I'll drain you again", Lily added. She won't be kidding, as she unzip you down, fishing out the cock you've just been beaten for porn. She would care at all.

Starting to stroke it up and down, she started to lick her lips, admiring the size of your dick. For her perspective, she finally had the chance to submit. But for you, you are still clueless.

"W-why are you doing this? Is this some kind of a joke for you to do against me?" You started to spew out, as she kept her hands on your length.

"No baby, this is just my first step. Remember, you are finally mine. You get it?" Lily replied. She doesn't care if you call for a thousand saints.

Keeping the pace of her hands, she could only jerk your cock off. Looking at her face, she could be the biggest winner as she only looked up and down on her precious prize, and decided to gulp the meat, savoring the taste of it.

Looking back, you could only feel the pleasure, and the electricity jolted your body for the new sensation. Sure, Lily wasn't this type of girl but for you, it was surely the weakest point you've become. No people to call to, nothing at all.

Lily worshiped your cock like a toy. Playing with her saliva, she kept sliding your dick to her mouth, then jerking it at a fast pace.

"Will you cum for me baby? Will you cum, will you cum, will you cum? I know how much you love to cum for me baby. You are my toy. You are my precious, little toy. Now brace yourself, 'cause shit's gonna be in my favor ahihihihihi.....", and with that, with the help of her saliva, her hand, and her tongue. You came harder than a pitcher throwing a 120 mph fastball as streaks of cum splattered on your owner's face. Some of it splatters to her eyelashes, her nose, and her cheeks. She then cleans your cock with her tongue, sucking until it's squeaky clean.

"Thanks for the meal, baby. Please have your things packed, you're going home with me", Lily stood up and cleansed her face with her fingers. "Hmmmmm, delicious. can't wait to taste it more later", she added with a wink.

Since then, you were bounded to her. No asks, no reasons, just she took you to her home, only to be her so-called "boyfriend" in front of her friends and family.

However, behind all that, she could only make you go down for her, doing some kinky things for her. On a leash, licking her feet, and even eating her ass whenever she's stressed out during rehearsals.

But at the same time, she would prevent you from talking with your friends, even talking with her own circle. Even in class, she would tell your teacher that you should do your work alone than in groups. You would complain, but you would likely be punished by her afterwards.

It's been 6 months since that incident, and it's Valentine's Day. Sure, no one would likely give you something like chocolates or letters. But for Lily, she received a ton of them. Being the most popular member has perks, but you don't care because she deserves it all.

Walking down the hall, some run to you, and seem to want you to know her feelings.

"Oppa! Please accept my letter. I wrote it all night for you." she said, running away again.

"Odd," you could only reply. Opening the letter, you saw the name of the sender. “Chuu? As in Kim Jiwoo from the culinary arts? I’m too flushed”, you could only say. As you keep reading the contents of the letter, someone on your way just can’t wait to confront you, and decides to drag you out of the scene.

“WHAT’S INTO YOU? WAIT! DON’T DRAG ME SO HARD LIKE THAT!” You could only cry out as your clothes started to stain with the dirt from the shoes walking around the corridor. You then looked at her face, and you know she’s not happy when you talk to other girls.

"Get over here!" said Lily, dragging you to a stockroom. Looking around the room, this is where PE teachers used to stock all of their sports paraphernalia for future use and for the Intramurals.

“Now, look at me~ you said you will not look at other girls other than me, yeah?” you only nod. “Then why”, says with diction, “you”, with anger. “Disobey”, with madness, “my rules?”, with something lewd, something I heard from the ASMRs that I watched. What is it again? Yeah, yanderes.

“Hey, don’t look away, I’m still talking to you”, grabbing your chin to look at her. “Now, what should I do to you to obey me at once?”, she added.

“I don’t know Lily, I don’t know!” You replied. Even though your muscles are quite thick, you can’t still let go from the grasps of the Australian yandere.

Laughing, she then tears the buttons of your shirt down, revealing your body. Just for the record, you even had body fats, but slashing down the visceral fats worked due to months of cardio in the gym and football practices.

Smirking, she only added insult to injury by plucking down your belt, pulling down the pants and boxers altogether revealing your cock.

Looking at it, you can’t say if she’s just taking your attention to her. But in reality, she’s too focused on taking you and your virginity away to be hers and hers only.

“Look at you, dipshit. Didn’t you know I was the reason why I kept you out of all the classwork, I kept you all from interacting with others? It’s because I want you to focus on me. ON ME! But why suddenly, you refuse to accept my offer, huh? Right now, I’m going to take you, and your cock, and your life away from them. Don’t you see, I am the only person who only loves you?” She whispered to your ear. The eyes started to turn pink, as if she’s like a real-life yandere going wild for her senpai.

Nothing to say at all, she decided to sink her way into you by lining her now naked pussy, plunging it down inside her. Muffling your moans, she found it addicting that you are finally inside of her, and no one would stop her from doing so.

“Well baby, can’t you see? I am the only one who can make you feel like this. I am the only one who can make you happy. You are the only one who can make me happy. I am the only one who can marry you. I! AM! THE! ONLY! ONE! FOR! YOU!” she said in every pound she makes against you, she speaks as your brain starts to melt from her tightness.

In deep agony, you think that this torture is endless. Thinking about it, it was the worst dream that you can imagine. You wish to the gods that this would never happen, but they didn’t bother you to listen. Every slap of her thigh to you seems to be a torture, as Lily didn’t bother you to listen to your plead, still covering your mouth from moans or pleads of help you may mutter.

She kept going and going. Pleasuring herself on the human meat dildo on her lap, the person was immobilized by her hands making you stay still, her hand still on your mouth. So maybe you��ll ask, “how I can’t use my other hands to set myself free?” Well, my other hand was crushed on the back when I got thrown out earlier, and I can’t take it back. Well, tough luck.

As she rides you, the impending orgasm leaves you in a hallucination phase. You’ve become lightheaded as Lily kept riding your cock, her orgasm after orgasm. Strike one, her eyes start to glow more pink hearts. Strike two, your back and even chest are scratched by her nails. Strike three, all hell broke loose.

“Baby?” She asked, still your dick is inside her. “You know, I always dreamt of this moment. Don’t you worry. After this, we are bound forever. And no one would ever stand in our way”, she added. As if the clock strikes twelve, so as her. She slammed on you deep, a sign that you’ve cummed, a moaning mess all over her face as she clung on your neck.

Detaching herself from you, the overflow of cum all over her pussy was leaking. Scooping and eating the leak, you could only see her face turn into a deep obsession.

“You’re officially mine”

(notes: finally, after over a year, this piece will be finally out. the wattpad version will be out too after this piece goes live.)

#nmixx #nmixx smut #nmixx lily #lily morrow #yandere #kpop yandere

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