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#the colors are a mess but do you see the vision????
mandarinmoons · 2 days
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so basically, it’s Spencer and reader’s 3 month anniversary, and so reader made them matching bracelets or some sort of matching gift. he’s so appreciative of the gift and vows to wear it all the time and he goes into work with it. Derek or Emily playfully teases him about it because it’s his first real relationship and he’s basically got heart eyes for u and is wearing the gift. but ofc they’re just happy to see Reid content in a relationship and it’s out of love for him that they joke
Your tongue poked out of your mouth in concentration as you carefully thread the beads. A blue bead after a purple one and a pink and green one after the next few, the color choices didn’t exactly match but you didn’t mind, you were doing it based on how you felt and who you were feeling towards.
It was yours and Spencer’s three month anniversary coming up and you hadn’t been this happy in a while, if ever. You thought that little tokens like matching bracelets between couples were adorable and adopted to try and make some of your own. You took inspiration from all the crazy & colorful socks Spencer has in his wardrobe and wanted to see if you could make something akin, while also adding a few details that aligned with you.
Once the bracelets were done, you put one on yourself and wrapped the other one in gift wrapping, albeit it being done poorly it didn’t matter as it was the inside that counts.
You’ll never forget the joy in Spencer’s eyes when he unraveled the mess of colorful beads from the crinkly paper. He held it up and admired each bead carefully and tried to figure out exactly why each color had been chosen.
“Don’t think about the concept too much now, I made it by feeling not logic.”
Spencer grinned as you chuckled and enveloped you in a hug, his lips pressing a kiss into your hair, “That does seem to be the way you do things.”
“Do you like it?”
“I love it, would you like to do the honors?”
“Of course.”
Pulling back you took the bracelet from Spencer’s hand and slowly put it on his wrist.
“It fits perfectly.”
“It does, doesn't it? A starter wedding ring if you might.”
Spencer knew that you were just joking, but God knows how long he could hold it out until he actually was on one knee in front of you.
Walking into work, Spencer’s eyes darted back to the bracelet he was wearing every time it came into his peripheral vision. His lips curled up into a smile and his thumb brushed over the beads as he was reminded once again how much he loved you.
Spencer was brought out of thoughts by hearing chuckling.
“You got some new jewelry, pretty boy?”
Derek patted Spencer on his back and grabbed his wrist to look at the bracelet more closely.
“That must’ve taken a long time to make.”
“Ask Y/N, they made it.”
“Did they now?”
Spencer freed his hand from Derek’s grasp and nodded as he massaged the area Derek had a tight hold on.
“Now that’s adorable. I wish I had someone to do arts and crafts with.”
Spencer excused himself and went over to his desk to start with his work, and to try to hide the fact that he could feel his cheeks turning scarlet red. Morgan always had a way of tearing down his confidence, even if he meant it in a playful “brother” like way, it still got to Spencer at times and he didn’t always know if the things Morgan said were supposed to be taken in a good or bad way.
As the day went on, Spencer’s focus was turned to his work but he occasionally heard snickers coming ahead. He saw his teammates discussing something while glancing his way and he knew that the topic of the bracelet was in question.
Spencer was a very private person and the topic of you had come up only a few weeks ago and it had been a complete accident. The team were out in a nearby bakery, ordering some treats when Spencer ordered an extra one to bring you later. When asked about the extra donut, Spencer blushed and stuttered out that it was for you, and that’s how the team learned about the special person who had made Spencer the happiest he’d been since his last relationship.
Spencer felt his eyes drooping and saw it as a sign that his body needed some coffee. Quickly rising to his feet, he tried to maneuver his way past everyone so as to not become a topic of ridicule again. Derek called out to him, but Spencer walked ahead until he was in the kitchen and turned the coffee maker on.
A moment later, Derek walked into the kitchen and stood next to Spencer and watched him pour the coffee into his cup.
“Have you got something on your mind?”
“What?”
“You’ve been ignoring us all day, what’s up?”
“I just haven’t felt like talking.”
“That’s not the Doctor Reid that I know.”
Spencer shrugged and Derek chuckled as he realized what could’ve been the reason why Spencer was so quiet.
“You know I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I think it’s awesome, you know? I’m glad you found someone to be with, we all are. I’m sorry if it came off in a mean way, but I’m proud of you, I really am.”
The frown that had been present on Spencer’s face for the entire morning had now been replaced with a shy smile. Hearing someone be happy for him meant a lot, and it meant even more that it was coming from Derek Morgan.
“I’m still going to tell Y/N what you said.”
“Oh c’mon now, you know they won’t let me live it down ‘til the end of times.”
“That’s the whole point.”
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beedreamscape · 7 months
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I wrote my eulogies in fire On my own skin May the smokes of my flesh be hymns of forgiveness Forgive me Forgive me Let me burn
About F.C.G. & Ashton & Fearne
Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena | Molly Burton, (???) | Buzzcut Season by Lorde | Dive by Ed Sheeran | Dylan Thomas, Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night | Gasoline by Halsey | Margaret Atwood, Selected Poetry 1965-1995
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boom33713 · 4 months
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there should be more instances of the cps being mistaken for cryptid shit. yk? like the golden snub nosed monkey ep where martin spent the whole thing being mistaken for a yeti but more insane. one of them goes human-size in a bug suit and some random sees and thinks mothman????? one of them wanders around in the moose suit standing up straight and some poor hiker is like OH FUCK A WENDIGO.
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ohproserpine · 4 months
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vii. deer dolly
see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), allusion to death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form
Rocks and twigs dug into your knees as you crawled forward, the jagged edges cutting your skin as you reached Alastor's side. With trembling hands, you cradled his face against your lap.
"Alastor," you called for him, desperately clutching onto his body, trying to pull him back down to Earth and hold him there "Al, Al, please."
"What did I do? What can I do?" More tears dribbled down your cheeks as you looked down at your husband, leaning in to press tender kisses to the apples of his cheeks. You held him as tightly as you could, careful not to cause him any more pain.
"I can figure out a way to help you, I can. I know I can, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. Your gaze remained locked with your husband's lifeless eyes, the world spinning around you as panic tightened its grip on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.
"Al. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
˚୨୧₊♱
You woke with a startle.
Gasping for breath, your chest heaved with each inhale, the rapid beat of your pulse slamming against your ribcage, the sound hammering in your head. Blinking repeatedly, your vision slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar sight of a ceiling painted with outrageously colorful prints. Faint traces of neon lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting erratic patterns across the room, accompanied by the distant thump of music.
A gentle knocking at the door broke through the haze, accompanied by the muted tones of a familiar voice seeping through the metal barrier.
"Dollface? Are you up?" Vox's voice, though muffled, was unmistakable as it filtered through the door.
Shakily, you pushed yourself up and sat for a while, gathering your composure. The room spun around you, the vibrant colors of the walls and lights blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Eventually, with a deep breath, you pushed yourself into action, moving to open the door.
As you swung it open, Vox stood on the other side, his signature smirk etched onto his features. His mechanical eyes gleamed as they scanned you for any signs of distress or fatigue. And despite your disorientation, you straightened your posture, trying to maintain your usual demeanor in front of him.
"Good morning," Vox greeted smoothly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
Of course, he wasn't interrupting anything. It was clear to both of you that you had just rolled out of bed. Your hair tousled in disarray, your sleepwear crumpled and creased, and your bed behind you a mess of twisted sheets and pillows.
Still, you forced a polite smile and shook your head.
"No, not at all," you replied.
"Excellent," Vox grinned, stepping a foot past your doorway. "May I come in?"
Despite the internal alarm bells ringing in your mind, you nodded, moving aside to let him in. As he passed by, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, like prey under the gaze of a predator before the pounce.
Closing the door, you leaned against it, feeling the cool surface against your back, and turned to face Vox, attempting to hide the unease simmering within.
"What can I help you with?" you asked, keeping your tone steady.
Vox's gaze pierced yours, his mechanical eyes glinting with a hunger that unsettled you.
"I thought of how we could discuss the details of our partnership," he hummed, running his fingers along your dresser. "Over dinner, perhaps?"
The proposal hung in the air, heavy with implications you weren't sure you wanted to explore. Despite your best efforts to hide it, a seething sense of unease bubbled beneath the surface, twisting your features into a grimace.
"Dinner?" The word felt like acid on your tongue as you struggled to maintain your façade, your gaze sharpening into a glare aimed directly at the overlord. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not interested."
Vox's laughter cut through the tense atmosphere, but it sounded forced and hollow.
"I meant a professional meeting, love," he covered up with a wave of his hand, the charm in his voice slightly strained. "Let's go over your contract."
Relieved, you nodded, though beneath, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled.
This could be a chance for you to really have a gauge on your situation. Everything had happened so fast, and you found yourself stumbling in the dark. You knew the Vees were a powerhouse in the entertainment district, their influence stretching far and wide, extending into every corner of hell. They were notorious for their employment methods, for their ability to shape destinies and manipulate lives with the stroke of a pen.
Who knows what was even in your contract?
"Wonderful!" Vox's cheerful interruption jolted you from your thoughts as he extended his arm. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Shall we?"
"Shall we what?" you spoke slowly, your tone guarded.
"Shall we get to your duties, my dear?" Vox clarified smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his words laden with expectation. "Velvette is waiting."
"Oh—" you jolted. Quickly, you gathered yourself, smoothing down the wrinkles of your robe and adjusting your disheveled hair with clumsy fingers.
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reached out and linked your arm with Vox's. The overlord smirked as he led you out of the room and through the corridors, already launching into conversation about his latest product line.
A part of you found it amusing how similar he was to your husband—both of them chatterboxes who couldn't keep their mouths shut if they tried.
Nodding along to Vox's conversation, you fell into step beside him. As you two walked, it was impossible not to notice the subtle shift in demeanor among the demons and imps, who hastily cleared a path for Vox, some even bowing respectfully as you passed by.
"And here we are!"
Arriving at Velvette's office, you entered cautiously, the tension thick in the air. Models lounged around in various states of undress, their statuesque figures draped in luxurious fabrics. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to suspicion as they observed your every move. Some whispered amongst themselves in hushed tones, casting wary glances in your direction, while others maintained an aloof demeanor, their gazes piercing yet blank.
Velvette stood at the front, her figure partially obscured by the tall curtains behind her. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over you with open scorn.
"Finally! Took ya long enough," Velvette scowled. "Edna, will you please go get her dressed?!"
Edna, a tall and slender imp with delicate horns curved against her head, nodded obediently before gliding over to you. With a gentle tug on your arm, she beckoned you to follow her backstage. You stumbled nervously, clutching your robe as you obeyed.
As you stepped away, Vox chuckled, waving you off with a flourish. You offered a cautious wave back before being enveloped by the heavy fabric of the curtains.
"I know what you're trying," Velvette scoffed as she tapped away on her phone, her perfectly manicured nails, painted in a glossy shade of neon pink, clacking against the screen. Vox turned to her, his expression one of exaggerated innocence.
"Whatever do you mean?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.
"Oh, please don't act as if you weren't sending marionnette over there heart eyes," Velvette accused, her crimson lips forming a thin line of disapproval. "Listen, I don't care what you do with your little girl toy. Just make sure you don't get in the way of my show."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Vox hummed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.
Velvette turned to him, surprised, her curls bouncing from the abruptness of her movement. "You're staying?"
"Of course. I'm eager to see your dazzling ideas, my dear," Vox replied smoothly, spreading his long legs across the expanse of the couch. "After all, your show is going to be featured on my channels. It's all anyone has been raving about on Voxtagram lately."
"Cut the crap. You just want an excuse to ogle at her," Velvette scoffed.
Vox leaned back against the cushions, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you blame me? She's quite the sight to behold."
Before Velvette could snap back, Edna returned, leading you out from behind the curtains. You emerged, feeling somewhat exposed under the scrutinizing gazes of the two overlords.
No surprise, as the main act, you were dressed in one of Velvette's main designs. Black netted stockings hugged your legs as they met the bright red stilettos that adorned your feet. A red corset cinched your waist and emphasized the curve of your hips, accentuating your figure. Below the corset, you wore a dark miniskirt with cream ruffles and lace, its fabric swaying with every step.
You felt abash as you stood in the outfit. In the past, you had been considered a flapper girl with your bold demeanor and penchant for daring fashion choices, but even you couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the lack of modesty of the skirt in this particular outfit. It barely grazed past your crotch, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
"Let's see…" Velvette hummed, completely absorbed in her task as she approached you, Vox long forgotten. With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the clothing and accessories you wore began to shift and change, transforming before your eyes.
Velvette's fingers danced through the air, conjuring delicate lace and cascading ruffles that stuck onto the corset. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a cream fur coat, draping it over your shoulders with a flourish. The colors morphed, the fabrics transformed, until finally, with a satisfied clap of her hands, she took a step back to admire your new look.
"Makeup!"
Suddenly, you yelped as a chair was dragged over, pushing against the back of your knees and causing you to fall right into it. A bunch of imps swarmed around you and they wasted no time in getting to work, dabbing various products onto your face and expertly brushing powder along your cheeks.
Once they were finished, they handed you a mirror, allowing you to inspect their handiwork. Unlike the outfit, the makeup look wasn't as unsettling. Your face was adorned with makeup reminiscent of classic clown makeup, featuring exaggerated lashes, a layer of white face paint, and a bold red lip.
"That's it! That's the one," Velvette grinned, delighted with the makeover. Her grin turned into a smirk as she turned to Vox. "Well, what do you think—Satan!"
Vox's screen began to glitch and buffer, emitting sparks of electricity that charred the couch beneath him. The sudden noise startled some of the models, their eyes widening in alarm as they scrambled to move away from the malfunctioning android.
"The hell is wrong with you?" Velvette shouted.
Vox tried to respond, but all that came out was static.
Concerned, you approached him, the clicking of your heels against the floor echoing.
As you settled beside Vox, there was a momentary pause in the static, and he stared at you with wide eyes, the malfunction seemingly halted by your presence.
Part of you screamed at yourself to leave, to let him handle his problems alone. But another part of you remained, despite everything. Somehow, you still felt a sliver of sympathy for the overlord.
Leaning in closer, you furrowed your brow, the red gloss on your lips catching the studio lights. The corset pushed your chest up, and Vox found his eyes shamelessly drifting.
"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice laced with genuine worry.
But before Vox could respond, he short-circuited, a burst of sparks and smoke emitting from his malfunctioning screen. You recoiled instinctively, your hand reaching out to shield yourself from any potential danger. With a final surge of electricity, he powered down completely, leaving behind a smoldering heap of metal and wires.
"Is he… okay?"
Velvette waved a dismissive hand. "He's always doing this. Probably overloaded his circuits again."
"Now, can someone please get this thing out of here?!" she commanded, snapping her fingers and tapping her foot impatiently.
As the models and attendants hurried to comply, you were pulled back up to your feet by the overlord. "He'll reboot eventually. Now, let's get back to work."
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Vox, you followed after Velvette as she led the way to a photo studio within the boutique.
The scene before you was akin to a circus, with vibrant hues of bright reds and pinks resembling a Valentine's Day massacre. A carousel in the background spun slowly, its eerie music echoing through the studio. Beating hearts hung suspended from the ceiling, their rhythmic pulses visible as they dripped with blood.
"Alright! Let's get the rehearsal started!" Velvette shouted out as she began to direct the crew. Cameras were adjusted, lights were fine-tuned, and the set was re-arranged to her satisfaction.
Turning to you with a tablet in hand, Velvette tossed it into your hands. You caught the device and quickly read through the document on the screen, realizing it was lyrics to a song. Your eyes rushed to memorize the words, the familiarity of the process washing over you.
Decades in the show industry had honed your skills to perfection, making this routine feel like second nature. A small pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of simpler times before everything went amiss.
“Alright.”
Barely giving you ten minutes to prepare, Velvette deftly plucked the tablet from your hands as she stepped back and settled into a director's chair. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she made herself comfortable, slipping on heart-shaped glasses that glinted in the studio lights.
"Let's see what you've got.”
Lifting the scepter to your lips, you pressed it against your mouth, leaving a trace of red lipstick staining the surface, a stark contrast against the sleek metal. As the lights dimmed, signaling the start of your performance, you took a deep breath and began to recite the lyrics.
I write poems to burn by firelight Drink champagne and guzzle gin Good girls call me "the town bicycle" Don't knock it 'til you've tried my life of sin
With a flick of your hand, you pushed back the curls of your hair, the strands catching the studio lights as you kept your gaze glued to the camera lens. From her chair, Velvette smirked and captured the moment with her phone, the flash briefly blinding the dimly lit set.
Oh, my pimp, knows never mess with me Last prick did that faded quick to black I have no idea where to find him, officers But if you do, please mention that I'd Like to have returned the pretty knife That I stuck ten times in his back—
Before you could even finish, the door burst open with a deafening bang, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Valentino stormed into the boutique, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. Without uttering a single word, he launched into a violent rampage, his movements wild and unpredictable.
The air was filled with the sound of crashing props and the desperate, panicked screams of assistants as they scrambled to evade Valentino's wrath. You jerked back instinctively as an arm was thrown in your direction, narrowly avoiding the chaotic fray unfolding around you.
"Damn it, Valentino! What are you doing?!" Velvette shouted over the commotion, her voice strained with anger and disbelief as she dug her fingers into her hair, her perfectly styled locks now in disarray.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" the moth demon screamed back, his voice seething with rage as he held poor Edna by her throat, his grip like a vice around her delicate neck.
"I'm airing out my frustrations!" he spat, his eyes wild with fury.
A sickening tearing sound filled the room as Valentino viciously tore Edna apart, blood splattering across the floor and staining the nearby racks of clothing.
"Fuck!" Velvette cursed under her breath. Fumbling, she retrieved her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen in agitation as she dialed Vox's number.
"My dear," the businessman's smooth voice echoed through the speakers, a calming presence amidst the storm. "What can I do for you?"
"Cut the shit. Are you functioning now?" Velvette's words were clipped, forceful, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"Functioning?" The overlord's response was hesitant, his movements jerky as he twisted his head, the wires on his neck audibly cracking with a spark. "I… suppose so."
"Good, because I need you up here now!" Velvette's voice crackled with urgency. "Mothboy is wrecking my department! And I'm waiting for a certain flat-faced prince to come and help!"
Without another word, Vox nodded with a weary groan, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him like an oppressive cloak.
"Just another fuckin' day with Val," he scoffed bitterly, his tone tinged with resignation as he pushed himself to his feet with a mechanical whir. "Fuck my life."
In an instant, he transformed into a crackling spark of electricity, zipping up into the CCTV camera before seamlessly teleporting into another one located in Velvette's studio.
"What's going on?" Vox sighed wearily as he materialized, his voice tinged with exhaustion, hands folding behind his back as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.
"Valentino's lost it again. And he's tearing everything apart," Velvette hissed as her hand shot up, grabbing Vox by the collar of his metallic frame.
Her nails dug into the surface, leaving faint marks as she pulled him down to her eye level. "You need to stop him before he causes any more damage!"
"Consider it done," Vox muttered, rolling his eyes before moving toward Valentino. With a firm grip, he halted the demon mid-carnage, spinning Valentino around to face him. An unsettling grin stretched across Vox's metallic features as he locked eyes with the enraged demon.
"Val! What's got you out of sorts today?"
“That piece of shit! Can you believe what he did?” Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he flung a small imp across the room, the helpless girl crashing into a clothing rack. “The ungrateful whore!”
"Uh huh, which whore are we talking about now?” Vox spoke nonchalantly as he pulled his phone out and idly scrolled through it. Before he could react, Valentino lunged forward, his claws snatching the device from Vox's grasp.
"Who else would I be talking about?!" Valentino spat, his grip tightening around the phone until it crushed in his hands. With a primal scream, he hurled the remains of the tech against a nearby wall, the impact causing the column to crack under the force of the blow.
You watched with a frown as Vox attempted to calm Valentino, but his efforts fell short against the demon's relentless anger. Despite Vox's attempts, Valentino continued to rage, his voice echoing through the room as he screamed about hotels, phone calls, and among other things you didn't bother picking up.
“Fuck. Alright, he's not calming down anytime soon,” Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned to you and motioned for you to follow as she began storming out. “Come on."
Quickly, you nodded, falling into step behind Velvette as she navigated through the gory scene. Blood stained the bottom of your heels as you stepped past limbs and puddles of blood, bones cracked underfoot, and muscles squished beneath your weight. The overpowering scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.
The overlord guided you out of the room and towards the other side of the building, where a door adorned with your name on a golden plaque awaited.
"This is your dressing room. We'll have another shoot in a few hours, so get yourself prepped in here while I go take care of the piss baby," Velvette scowled, already busying herself with her phone again.
"Will do," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, grateful for the moment of rest.
"Good. I'll see you then," Velvette declared with dramatic flair, her vibrant curls swirling around her face as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving a trail of her perfume lingering in the air.
As you were about to step into your dressing room, the door beside you suddenly swung open with a creak, revealing a slice of the pink-filled bedroom beyond. To your surprise, you were met with the familiar sight of a fluff of white hair. An accented voice filled the air, screaming into a phone, the sound echoing down the corridor.
"I told ya, I didn't mean to—," The demon turned to you and froze, his eyes widening as he dropped his cigar in shock. The carpet beneath your feet caught fire from the dropped cigar, but neither of you seemed to care.
He stared at you, wide-eyed.
Hands flying up to your mouth, you stared back.
For a minute, all you could hear was the muted sounds of Valentino's screaming from the phone speaker and the building's hustle and bustle
"Dollface?" Angel Dust finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked dumbfounded. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Your heart dropped like a heavy stone, sinking into the depths of your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there.
Everything was becoming too much to even process. Your body betrayed you as you lost your balance, collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced your ears, drowning out all other sounds, as warmth seeped from them.
"Aw, shit," Angel Dust hissed in panic. Without hesitation, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, dragging you into his room, the door closing behind you with a soft click.
Ending the call, he tossed his phone away and guided you to a plush couch, the fabric soft and inviting beneath your touch as you sank into its embrace. Angel Dust settled beside you, his presence comforting like a warm blanket on a cold night. He offered you a sympathetic smile, though slightly awkward, his eyes filled with understanding.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his words a gentle caress to your troubled soul.
Opening his arms wide, Angel offered you a hug, and you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Slowly, your senses came together as you nestled against him, the gentle rhythm of his breathing calming the storm of emotions raging within you.
"It's gonna be alright," he whispered softly, his voice a comforting murmur. Moving closer, he wiped away the warm liquid seeping from your ears. You could faintly see his hands moving away, stained with red. "You alright? What happened, mama?"
"A lot," you sighed, raising a hand to massage your temple as you recounted the events of the past 24 hours, from Mimzy's lounge getting busted down to your soul exchange with Vox.
Angel listened intently as you recounted the events, his expression shifting from concern to disbelief as he processed the gravity of what you had experienced.
"Damn, you've been through hell twice. You're one tough cookie, mama," Angel said with a warm smile as he reached for a brush on his vanity and gently ran it through your messed-up hair.
Despite the heaviness of the situation, a hint of laughter escaped you.
"You could say that," you sniffed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you let out a long-held sigh. "It's been a while since I've been able to let it all out like this. Most demons aren't exactly the nicest."
Angel Dust chuckled with a shrug, his hands gentle as he worked through the knots in your hair. "Yeah, I've… ah, been tryn'a to stay 'good' for a while now. Charlie's been real pushy with the redemption thing, and I thought, what the hell, why not?"
Suddenly, he paused his brushing and gawked at you, his eyes widening in realization. "Charlie! The hotel!"
Your heart skipped a beat as Angel Dust's words sank in. "The hotel," you echoed, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in your mind.
"Shit!" Angel laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, there ya go! I get off shift tonight, and I sure as hell can get my ass over there. Hell, I can leave right this instant if you want!"
"Won't Valentino be pissed?" you asked, a flicker of concern crossing your features. "You'll be—" Your gaze darted over to his discarded phone on the floor, which was buzzing with calls. "Well, already are in deep shit."
Angel Dust frowned, his expression hardening with resolve. He grabbed your coat and swiftly removed it, tossing it aside to cover the buzzing phone. "Fuck 'im. He can bark all he wants in the studio, but outside of it, he's got no power over me."
The spider leaned in, his touch as gentle as a soft breeze against your skin, his fingers delicate as they brushed a stray hair from your face. "I'll help you. So don't get your pretty little tits in a twist anymore, alright?"
With a heavy heart, you whispered your gratitude, bowing your head as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Today had been bleak, but a glimmer of hope lingered for a brighter tomorrow.
"But I don't want to get you in trouble, Angel," you said softly, wiping away your tears, exhaustion washing over you. "I can wait until tonight."
Angel Dust's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Nah, babe, ain't no trouble for me. Besides, waiting ain't my style, and I ain't about to let you deal with this mess alone."
"Plus," Angel grinned devilishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, the corners of his lips curling up. "I know your man is going to tear shit down. And I want front row seats to all that drama."
˚୨୧₊♱
"NO!"
Charlie shrieked, her voice piercing the air as she lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately at Alastor's piece on the gameboard. "Al! You can't just do whatever you want! You have to follow the rules!"
Alastor leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he regarded Charlie with amusement. "But my dear, where's the entertainment in that?" he purred as he tilted his head in mock innocence. "Rules are made to be broken, after all. So, I had a little fun with it."
"A little fun?" Vaggie scoffed from her spot on the floor, her brows furrowed in frustration as she idly shuffled the cards.
"Yeah, thanks a lot, dickhead," she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "That's what you've been doing these past 2 hours. If you don't start playing properly, might as well not play. I mean—why did you even bother?"
"For the entertainment!" Alastor cheered, his grin widening as he rolled the dice once the turn landed on him again. With a flourish of his claws, he moved his piece three spaces, landing on an unclaimed building which he quickly purchased. "I came here because I love seeing you wayward souls struggle to accomplish something great, and fail spectacularly!"
Vaggie scoffed and rolled the dice, her hand deftly moving the piece along the board with a flick of her wrist. However, her expression soured noticeably when the piece landed on the Jail panel. She seethed and sank back, silently cursing her streak of horrible luck.
"Ah, like you are doing now!" Alastor smirked down at her like the asshole he was, punctuating his words with a clap of his hand. "Good job!"
Vaggie clenched her jaw tightly, her knuckles whitening as she lifted the board, readying herself to strike Alastor. However, before she could make her move, the door burst open, and Angel Dust rushed in with a gasp. He looked every bit disheveled, as if he had just run through all nine circles of hell.
Charlie's eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she lifted her hand, waving him over excitedly.
"Angel! Perfect timing. We need one more player for Monopurgatory," she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards the game board. With a gleeful expression, she plucked a piece from the board and held up a small metal figurine with a wide smile. "You can be the cupcake~!"
"Sorry, princess, I've got business," Angel huffed, brushing his hair back as he turned to Alastor. "Alright, freaks. We need to talk."
Alastor hummed, studying Angel with mild amusement. "My, my, such urgency," he remarked, his smile widening into a grin. "What's got you in such a hurry?"
"It's about Vox," Angel replied, pressing his hands flat against each other. "I need to speak with you in private."
Alastor's grin faded slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing at Angel. Well, this was certainly getting very entertaining.
After a moment of contemplation, Alastor shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had briefly fallen into.
"Vox, you say?" Alastor mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. With a nonchalant shrug, he pushed himself up, twirling his cane in the air. "Oh, well, in that case, let's chat."
With a flick of his wrist, Alastor moved forward and gestured towards the door, indicating for Angel to follow him. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent, watching as both men left the room.
"You know, I'd usually never even think of entertaining you, and I'd rather let you deal with your own issues. But you seem to be in a great deal of suffering!” Alastor laughed heartily as he shut the door.
"So, pray tell, what happened? Did you get yourself entangled in another deal from a whim decision? My! I certainly hope you don't bring any of this into the hotel. What will the papers say?"
Angel rolled his eyes and cut Alastor's rambling short, jabbing a gloved finger into the Radio Demon's chest. "It ain't about me. And you're gonna want to listen because it's your missus that's in deep shit right now."
Alastor's eye twitched at the mention of you, a brief flicker of static and symbols dancing in the air. His crimson eyes bore into Angel Dust, his expression unreadable, save for the wide curl of his lips.
Inwardly, Angel smirked. If he didn't have Alastor's attention before, he sure as fuck had it now.
"What does my wife have to do with this?" Alastor quipped sharply, his claws delicately removing Angel Dust's finger from his chest. "I fail to see the connection. Do enlighten me."
"Wanna be enlightened?" Angel waved him over, "Then follow me."
Without waiting for a response, Angel turned on his heels and strode out of the hotel. Alastor followed closely behind, his red-clad figure cutting through the streets of hell like fire against the night.
A few streets later, they approached the border edge of the entertainment district, and Alastor halted abruptly, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.
"I don't particularly fancy this area, and I'd rather not enter," he scoffed, adjusting his coat and brushing away dust from his sleeves with a disdainful flick. "It's rather unsavory."
"Just look," Angel rolled his eyes, gesturing upwards towards the towering Vee tower, where a new advertisement had just been erected.
Alastor's gaze shifted upward, and he froze as he beheld your face plastered across the billboard, larger than life, dominating the skyline of the entertainment district. The vibrant colors of the advertisement clashed with the dark hues of the surrounding buildings, drawing attention like a beacon in the night. Beneath the image, in bold letters, was a sign that read: "Sponsored by VoxTek," stark against the backdrop of your image.
There was silence for a minute, then another, before a sharp crack split the air.
"Angel?" Alastor's chipper voice rang out as he stared up at the billboard with a manic grin. Crackling began to be heard as his limbs lengthened, each movement accompanied by the sound of bones shifting and sinewy muscles stretching beneath his ashen flesh.
"Would you be so kind as to…" His antlers began to grow in size, curling and twisting like the branches of a gnarled tree.
"—explain…" His eyes darkened, the whites turning to a deep, swirling black, while the pupils glowed with a golden light, resembling the flickering dials of an old radio.
"—what exactly am I looking at right now?" His hands elongated into grotesque claws, the fingers stretching and sharpening into razor-sharp blades capable of ripping flesh—or in this case, wires—with ease. As his claws extended, they stretched his glove to its limit until it tore right off, revealing the glint of his wedding ring.
"Vox got her soul," Angel replied immediately, his voice steady despite the horrifying sight in front of him. "Screens has her wrapped around his finger, and he's not planning to let go anytime soon."
Alastor's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack accompanying the movement.
"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.
Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.
"Get in there, and see for ya'self."
˚୨୧₊♱
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lvminy · 4 months
Note
heyyy so what do you think of afab reader who is a prostitue x mafia boss sugar daddy pookie pookie bby sukuna (wow that was a mouthful) ty! (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)
mdni. no pronouns!, daddy kink, size kink, he just uses his hand to keep you upwards ( no choking ) ( during → ) mirror sx, suku has tattoos hell yeah, there's actually some character development here I'm proud ( from being a dick to not so much )( he's so in love ), n he's low-key possessive&lt;3
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Sukuna’s daily visits to the city’s most luxury club —under his possession of course— wasn’t something new, with pretty girls perched on each one of his sides, tiny dresses and way too over-touching hands. he didn’t mind them though, neither he gave a fuck about them, the only thing Sukuna felt was amusement, amusement of allowing each girl to think they had a chance with him.
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the sleeve tattoo on his right arm peeks from under a perfectly fit cuff, adorned by a golden watch that glimmers under the golden light as he leans forward to take a sip of his whiskey, a soft click of his tongue and a swirl of his finger is enough for his bodyguards to take said girls out, an endless rotation in which you took part.
but you’re not his favorite, —or at least, that’s what he told himself— no, Sukuna doesn’t partake in favoritism, if his guards escorted you to his private suite more times than they would to any other girl, who never lasts inside the room longer than 10 minutes, no one will admit it. it’s an inside gossip, they say the boss is in love, Sukuna admits he’s in love with the tight squeeze of your cunt, in love with the pretty moans you let out, with how eager you are to please his most wicked desires, he wants to keep you to himself, to adorn you with the most expensive jewelry, but certainly that’s not love, right?
the necklace he chose definitely compliments the beauty of your skin, and jingles oh so prettily when he’s pounding into you from behind, “aw, look at you” he mutters in your ear, almost imperceptively due to the loud sticky sound of his heavy balls smacking against clit, one of his hands rests on your neck, arms flexing and muscles bulging under the dark ink of his intrinsic tattoos, making you watch your own fucked out image in the golden rimmed mirror, clenching and keening at the sight of his large hand holding your dainty neck, “i knew this color would suit you” he smirks, meeting your eyes through the reflection for you to mewl.
your vision almost blurs from the intensity of Sukuna’s merciless thrusts, forcing your body to jolt up and down at the same time his back and thighs muscles clench at the way your cunt sucks on his cock, so tight it’s imposible for him not to make a mess right underneath your meeting bodies.
“say ‘thank you, daddy’” Sukuna urges, switching his thumb to resting on your collarbone to parting your lips slightly, rubbing on your tongue and inner cheeks.
“t-thank you... ah, daddy! ngh!” you manage to moan through whimpers, by this point your eyes are filled with tears, unable to see the lewd sight in front of you properly, yet Sukuna forces your eyes to remain still.
a slight change of angle in his hips and the man is able to see how your face contorts from pleasure, fucking you hard with soft ‘ah, ah’ s coming from your puffy lips. “that’s right, baby, only daddy gets to see you this ruined, only daddy can fuck your tight cunt” Sukuna grunts on your neck, cock bullying your tiny pussy at the same speed one of his thumbs rubs on your clit, urging your orgasm to coat hil whole.
“m’ cumming!” you get to squeal, earning a chuckle from him at the way your walls clamp around his cock, pulling him impossibly deeper as he continues to fuck his fat cock into your spasming cunt, allowing his eyes to travel through the expanse of your trembling body and slick oozing from your hole, making a puddle on the sheets right underneath your thighs.
Sukuna’s orgasm doesn’t take long in arriving, with a huffed “you’re fuckin’ mine” and making sure to be buried as deep into your pussy before filling the condom with his cum, maybe he’ll give his darling a creampie later on, for now, you’ll have to conform yourself with daddy’s black card.
he still won’t admit you’re his favorite, the girls are long gone and now it’s just you, sitting prettily on his lap with a strong arm around your waist, a smirk no one has ever seen before is now present on his face, but don’t get him wrong, Sukuna is still as ruthless and cruel as ever, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have a little more space in his heart for you.
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churipu · 4 months
Note
OK HEAR ME OUT
nerd!nanami x girly!reader pls pls pls
thankss 💗
NANAMI WITH A GIRLY GIRL ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა
featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. i'm gonna make this a college! au , and a little cursing
note. hi nonnie, sorry that i just got to your request now — but i hope you like this :< uni's already getting real hectic, so updates might be a lil on the slow side.
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nanami didn't fall in love with you at first sight — in fact, he finds you quite the nuisance. the way everyone loves you just because of the way you talk, the way you dress, the way you smell, your body language. he thinks it was all a simple act to fool people.
"hi, nanami!" you greet him, your bright pink colored apron dress flowing against the wind as you walked towards him elegantly — a white cotton cardigan covering your shoulders.
the male arched his brow mutely at your cheery voice, wondering what could someone like you want from him, "do you need anything?" he asks.
initially he thought that you were one of those people who'd woo him and try to get him to do your assignments, but he was proven wrong when you shook your head. giving out the brightest smile, showing off your pearly whites, "no, i was just saying hi."
then you brushed by him, the smell of your sweet fragrance entering his nostrils. sandalwood. you smelt like sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.
though he could then make sure of one thing, what an odd girl.
nanami was a good student. he focuses on his studies, while you try to fit in a bit of everything in your schedule — playing, hanging out, studying. but at the end of the day, nanami finds it shocking that you could pass with flying colors.
from his peripheral vision, nanami could see people crowding around you. he tells himself he didn't care about you, yet here was wondering why they were all over you.
"you told us you didn't study, you liar!" a girl pointed out accusingly at you, a smile pressed onto her lips.
"i just got lucky, i swear."
"that's what you said last time, y/n."
nanami didn't mean to eavesdrop, he knew it was wrong to hear someone else's conversation. but he couldn't help it when these people were speaking loudly — the only thing he could focus on was the fact that you had a perfect score.
call him weird, but he's all in for the brains.
the first time he officially spoke to you — nanami was a mess. he had never been in a proper conversation with most of the people at campus. most he's been in one is when he had to tell his group members off for being useless, but that was about it. and with you, he's a little awkward.
"oh, hi nanami! do you need anything?" you noticed that the male was eyeing you from his seat.
upon realizing what he had done, nanami immediately averted his gaze to the front. ignoring your words, not putting a second thought to it — but you shrugged it off anyways.
and the second time he laid his eyes on you for quite some time, it was in the middle of a lecture. so you slipped a note asking if he needed anything, and he replied with his own handwriting, saying "no".
embarrassed he'd gotten caught again. nanami felt like he was being discreet about his staring when in reality, it wasn't. and it's funny.
nanami didn't really understand why he was feeling like this. and he had nobody to talk to or ask about his feelings — so he made an assumption, it was the flu. coming into the lecture hall with a scarf tucked into his neck, and a white mask covering the lower half of his face.
"nanami, are you sick?" you asked him, and he nodded mutely, "well, it is flu season after all. i hope you get well soon."
nanami felt his heart flutter, and he chewed on his lips in frustration — if the mask had not been on his face, he was sure you'd be able to notice the frustration lingering in his expression.
his fingers frantically typing on the search engine typing out his symptoms, and every one of the choices ended up telling him the same thing.
he's in love.
but the male denied that, talking to himself how the internet was just a waste of time. he's in denial for a bit.
he's in denial of his own feelings. and would constantly turn away whenever you're there, passing by you in a rush as you were greeting him, or moving away to another seat when you sat next to him. forgetting the fact that you were also affected by his actions, wondering what you did wrong to him.
"hi nanami—" you waved your hand as the two of you passed by each other in the hallway.
but the male brushes past you in a flash, not even letting you finish your sentence. and you shrugged thinking that he might be in a rush.
but when it happened, again and again. you could definitely conclude that he is indeed avoiding you — hell, he won't even spare you a glance. and you wondered what you did wrong to him.
"is this seat—" you approached the seat next to him, ready to claim it but he stood up packing his things and moving to a lone seat three rows behind, "taken..?"
ouch.
nanami didn't feel like he did anything wrong until he was met by one of your friends. who — well, said anything but nice things to him. threats. warnings. and questions. even nanami didn't know the answer to.
"what the fuck did you do to y/n?" the female said, eyeing nanami up and down judgmentally.
what did he do to you?
"what?"
"i said, what did you do to her you dipshit?" wow. nanami could only furrow his brows, thinking of a possible answer that he is sure of because of the looks of it — even he didn't know what was going on right now, "why did you make her sad?"
"sad?" nanami questions, "i didn't talk to her."
"exactly. why didn't you? you know she likes you, right?" nanami's breath hitched at the revelation, and he shook his head, "what? are you stupid? and here i thought she was being too fucking obvious, god . . ."
he was too caught up to hear what the angry female in front of him had to say, he just focused on the fact that you— y/n l/n— liked him.
he was stupid with all these new feelings. and nanami wasn't used to being stupid — so for the first time, he had to ask your friend's help. asking guidance for what he should do, what you like, what he needed to say to you.
"just say you're sorry and confess. you like her too don't you?" your friend exasperatedly explained, already feeling a little exhausted from having to tell such a smart but idiotic male about love.
"okay."
your friend was a bit skeptical, so she had to elaborate and make a script for him (which he ended up reading in front of you by the way), "just try to memorize this and go."
nanami in fact, could not memorize the script.
when he knocked on your door, reading off the script in front of you. you find it funny, because you didn't know what was going on or what you expected.
"what are you doing, nanami?" you chuckled, shutting the door behind you as the male stood on your porch, holding the small paper your friend gave to him in his hand.
"apologizing."
"for what?"
"your friend told me i made you sad by avoiding you," you choked on your own breath, a bit embarrassed by your friend — flailing your hands a bit.
"she did? oh my god. i'll tell her to say sorry . . ."
nanami shook his head, "it's alright. and i like you too."
nanami and you made it official that night. and he, oh my god, he spoils you. rotten. despite being a college student — nanami has money. buying you dresses, hair accessories, flowers, anything he thinks reminded him of you, he will buy it for you.
"ken, what's this?" you question him as the male handed you a pink colored plastic bag.
nanami didn't answer you, but beckoned you to open it and to see for yourself. when you did, the sight of two shiny hair accessories made your heart flutter, "you got this for me? thank you so much, kento."
nanami gets very happy when he sees you using the things he buys for you, and he gets pretty upset when you tell him that he shouldn't be spending so much on you.
despite your advice, nanami still buys everything for you. he doesn't regret anything if it's about you.
he's a little tweaky and awkward at first, but as time goes by. he gets the hang of dating and relationships. the most gentle male, holding your hand, he will never let you walk on the outside part of the sidewalk, he stands behind you during an escalator ride up because you love to wear dresses, he will exchange his shoes for you if your feet were paining because of your own shoes (and he will carry your shoes for you), will carry your shopping bags and even your normal bag for you.
"let me carry that," he grabs your bag and carries it before lacing his fingers with yours.
"ken, you don't have to—"
"i insist." he cuts you off, smiling down at you and his hand squeezes yours lightly as if telling you that it was completely okay to rely on him because he loves it when you rely on him.
he absolutely loves going shopping with you. he gets the first look at new outfits, and he absolutely loves when you bring him to shop for new dresses. telling you to do a little twirl before complimenting you and how beautiful you looked. he always, always, ends up buying them all for you.
"so? how do i look?" you opened the door to the fitting room cubicle, showing yourself.
nanami had to hold back a smile from forming on his face, "turn around," he softly said — and when you did as he was told, the hem of your dress fluttering around as your body turns.
he finally broke into the smile, "you look beautiful." nanami compliments, taking your hand in his, "take the dress."
you chuckled, "ken, i already have two others. and you spent a lot on me — i don't want you to spend more on me."
nonsense.
nanami gets it for you unknowingly anyways, giving it to you on the walk back home from the mall. he always does that. always.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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leaawrites · 4 months
Text
Take away the pain
Percy Jackson x daughter of Apollo!reader
Warnings: Blood, open body, might be disturbing, mentions of organs, broken limbs, nightmare, mentions of death, mentions of wounds, scratch marks, tight throat, female reader,
Category: angst, a bit of fluff, comfort
summary: after reader has a nightmare Percy comforts her.
Masterlist
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Blood. It was everywhere. Soaking her clothes, staining the fabric in a crimson color. Her body felt weightless, but she felt alive. Her limbs were broken, they were shattered, thorn by the ends. Her chest was open. She couldn’t feel it, but she saw it. It wasn’t neatly opened by a knife. She wasn’t slashed or stabbed by a human creature. It was a hole. She was opened by something more forceful. Part of her organs were laying beside her. Her skin was opened.
The stone beneath her feet was flat, sanded smooth by millions of feet walking over it. But hers couldn’t feel it. She couldn’t make her mark on it. She couldn’t polish it with her own. She destroyed it.
Her body was weightless and she wasn’t alive.
Her eyes opened, sweat was soaking the shirt she slept in. Her hair was a mess. Nothing felt real anymore. But it was real. This was real.
Her hands clutched her chest, fearing to feel it soaked. But all she felt was skin to skin. A body moved on the other side of the bed. Percy pulled the blanket up to his face, probably fighting with his own nightmare.
The air in camp Half-blood felt clearer at night. No one was awake at this hour, the sky was dark, nature was silent. A tree moved from the wind, somewhere something else moved through the night, making sounds through the leaves that covered the ground.
Y/n gently removed the blanket from over her body, hoping she wouldn’t wake Percy in doing so. Her feet were soundless on the wooden floor. Tears were pricking on the edge of her eye. Her eye lids felt heavy from the water forming beneath them.
Being a kid of Apollo was great in her eyes. She couldn’t complain too much. However, one thing that made her want to change her godly parent, were the wounds she’d seen. The blood that has been on her hands while trying to safe someone else. She saw people in pain that she wanted to pull them out of, often that was Percy. If there was a way of taking their pain and put them onto her she would gladly do it. But she couldn’t.
Slow rivers were trailing down her face as she sat down on the stairs, watching the outside in hope of forgetting what she saw. It may wasn’t real, but it felt realistic enough to scare her. Images came flashing back into her mind. And every time they did, she shut her eyes, imagining his face. The way he would smile at her whenever he saw her. Until it was forgotten.
“What did you dream about?” Of course he knew that was the reason she was up. Of course he felt whenever she wasn’t by his side, even when his eyes were closed and his body was on stand-by.
Y/n moved her fingers over her neck, scratching her fingernails against the soft flesh. It hurt, she noticed. The simple motion made her throat feel tight, it felt like strings were laced around it, pulling themselves together by the second. A deep breath in the pain began to gave up on paining her even more.
“I was dead,” she said, her voice shaking while she spoke. Percy sat down beside her, looking confused at the raw explanation. “My chest was ripped open, there was blood everywhere and my body wasn’t my body anymore. Percy, I- I was nothing more but a dead, rotting body. Nothing more than flesh split open, with broken bones.”
Percy knew about the dreams she had before. They were mostly about other people dying, never her. He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest, the other covered his face.
"It was just a dream," he assured the girl. It pained him to see her so broken over what others called her gift. He didn't know what he would do if he saw what she saw.
"But can I be sure of that? What if it was all just a vision of what will be in the future?" There were a hundred thoughts on her mind. Most of them bad ones. If this was all a vision, when would it happen? When would whatever ripped her open rip her open?
Kissing her head, he softly spoke, “Nothing will hurt you. I won’t let it.”
“How can you be so sure about that?” She asked, thinking back on the girl who was in the infirmary a few days ago. She was on a quest, abandoned by her other two acquaintances. He told me he would never leave me, she recalled the girl tell her. Percy wasn’t like this, but what if something acquired him to go away? What if someone was the reason why he wasn’t there?
Percy thought back to his mother. He believed she would always be there, until she wasn’t. But he got her back. He believed, that if you truly loved someone, that nothing could make you turn away from them. “Because I love you.”
It was his only reasonable answer to that question. He would protect her as long as he loved her. There was nothing that could make him turn away when she was hurt.
The pain on her neck left completely when Percy planted a kiss on the back of it. He made the pain disappear. The string detached from another, leaving her to breath freely and purely. The pain from her stomach unraveled when she felt his skin against it. He was what she needed when the pain was too much. With Percy everything felt lighter. Every one of her problems solved around him. He was the light she needed on dark day for her sun to shine.
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strangersmunsons · 10 months
Text
read 'em and weep
you and Eddie meet at the library. he’s smitten.
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Contains: Eddie x Reader, bookworm!reader, lovesick!Eddie, reader gives Eddie book recommendations. No mention of reader’s physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: brief mention of loneliness & negligence in Eddie’s childhood. Word Count: ~2.2k it's my hope to make this a little series! i think eddie is def a bookish guy - no lord of the rings quoting, metal head dungeon master hates reading. he would certainly be open to any fantasy/horror recs you had for him! <3
Indiana. 1989.
Hawkins Library sees a lot of action in the summer.
They offer a wide variety of youth programs to keep the local kids busy and the parents sane while school is out. One of the main events is Saturday Story Time, a beloved weekly staple that you have recently been tasked with putting on.
It’s simple. You gather a number of books, usually with a common theme, and then read a select few to the children who had signed up for the day. Most of the kids in attendance are no older than six or so, with some parents even pulling up chairs to the back so they can sit with infants cradled in their arms. The older ones sit criss-cross-applesauce on carpet squares in front of you, their chubby faces alight with giggles as you recount each silly, fantastical story with all the spirit you can muster.
And then there’s always an accompanying arts and crafts project, of course. If you read The Very Hungry Caterpillar then, naturally, you have to make little googly-eyed caterpillars out of popsicle sticks and colorful pom-poms. You don’t make the rules.
If trouble occurs during Story Time, it’s usually in this phase. (Giving paste to toddlers is always a gamble – you never know what they’re gonna do with that.)
And on this particular morning, it’s been chaos from start to finish. A whopping eighteen kids had signed up, and you stretched yourself pretty thin trying to attend to everyone.
One of the babies spit up directly onto the little girl sitting in front of him and his mother. Someone slipped on their carpet square and fell harshly to the floor, earning a bruised elbow that you gently fussed over. You wrangled a pair of twins who fought bitterly over a bottle of Elmer’s glue. There were three individual running-with-scissors-scares and, finally, you spent a good ten minutes soothing one sobbing child with whom there was nothing apparently wrong with, and that you suspected was just in need of a good cry.
So yeah, it was basically pandemonium.
But eventually, to your great relief, things wound down. The audience dispersed, with their handmade goods clutched in sticky fists, and went to peruse the glossy line of picture books you put out for display. Within the next hour or two, everyone traded the cool darkness of the library for buttery sunshine, and all was quiet again. You waved cheerfully to the last parent-child duo as they made their exit, promising them that there’d be a fun activity next weekend too.
You love these storytime sessions, you really do, but sheesh. Sometimes they run you ragged. With the havoc of the morning finally over, and the promise of lunch in your near future, you try to shake off the weariness, and instead take it upon yourself to clean up the disorganized mess someone’s made of the horror section.
You’re going about your work, tongue poking out in concentration as you strain to reach the really high shelves, when you notice someone standing in your peripheral vision. You turn and glance at him, or at least, what you can see of him. He’s half-hidden by the shelf behind you, but you catch sight of brown hair and denim.
A pale face appears on a craned neck from around the corner. His dark eyes meet yours, widen slightly when he sees that you’ve caught him lurking, and he abruptly disappears again.
You purse your lips to hide your smile. This isn’t uncommon; such moments often occur when you’re cleaning up a section of books someone is hoping to sift through. In a small act of kindness, you move over to the neighboring shelf and look for something to busy yourself with; trying to give the guy a chance to browse without having to ask you to step aside.
He doesn’t emerge. You wait, expecting to sense him passing by you, but no dice. It’s amusing to think that someone might be frightened to approach you (You? Really?) but you can’t help feeling sorry that you were in his way.
The rest of your shift is rather uneventful. At the end of the day, you punch out and head home, the stranger behind the shelf forgotten. 
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When you come back to work on Monday, it’s much quieter than the last morning you’d been in. You greet your coworkers and set up shop at the front desk, opening up a book of your own to pass the time until someone needed assistance.
You’ve been reading for about half an hour when the big double doors open up for the day’s first visitor, the sound echoing loudly in the silent, spacious room. You look up in interest, ready to greet the person with a warm smile.
“Good morning!” you softly call out as he comes into view. He walks slowly towards you, shoes scuffing the checkered tile with each step. As he comes nearer, you can see that he’s biting his lip, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the gesture oozing self-consciousness. He only makes eye contact with you for a second before his gaze flits away again.
He’s pretty conspicuous-looking to be approaching the desk with such hesitance, you think. He has dark hair that hangs in slightly-scraggly curls down to his chest, and huge dark eyes. The pale skin of his arms, sticking out from within a denim vest/Judas Priest t-shirt combo, are littered with tattoos.
He pauses a few feet away from you, like he’s debating whether he wants to stop and chat, or to simply veer off towards the bookshelves and start browsing. Ultimately he decides to shuffle forward, closing the distance between the two of you.
“Hi there. What can I do for you?” you ask, voice gentle but encouraging.
He looks down and rests a hand on the desk, absentmindedly tracing the wood pattern with his thumb. “Um, yes.” He doesn’t offer anything else.
There’s a pregnant pause, both of you digesting the fact that what you had asked was not a yes or no question.
He tries again. “I…am in need…of some new reading material.”
You nod gravely, expression serious. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have anything specific in mind?”
He begins to rock lightly back and forth on his feet, contemplating. “I like fantasy, especially Tolkien. I read a lot of horror, too, and sometimes sci-fi. If you had any suggestions for me, that’d be great.”
“Oh, we can certainly find you something,” you reassure him, already flipping through a mental rolodex of your favorite books in those genres. “Here, come with me.”
You stand and move around the desk to meet him, beckoning for him to follow.
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Eddie watches you run a delicate hand over the spines of the books, keenly aware of the clammy sweat that’s flooding his own palms. Be cool, Munson. 
“So,” you begin, a gleam of excitement in your eyes, “you like fantasy. Do you read Le Guin?”
Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing slightly with the movement. “Oh yeah, I’ve read the Earthsea trilogy.”
“Have you read any of The Hainish Cycle books?”
“I haven’t read those ones, no.”
You pull out two slim paperbacks from the row, holding each one out for him so he can study the covers. “These ones are science fiction, and they’re pretty good. You might like Rocannon’s World since it’s similar to a fantasy novel, but personally I think Left Hand of Darkness is the best.” You suddenly pause, and look around furtively, like you were checking to make sure that you two are really alone. You even put a hand up to the side of your mouth, as though shielding the conversation from eavesdroppers.
“Honestly,” you lower your voice like you’re admitting something scandalous, “I even liked it better than Earthsea.”
“No!” Eddie immediately matches your whispered, gossipy tone and lets his jaw drop, pretending to be aghast.
“Yes!” you insist, seemingly delighted by his willingness to play along. Eddie’s heart soars.
“I guess I can’t refute that until I read it, huh? What’s it about?” he asked, taking it from your hand.
“An envoy is visiting this frozen alien planet, and he’s trying to convince them to join this intergalactic coalition that he represents, but they’re making it like, really difficult for him. Also, gender doesn’t exist, and there’s political turmoil stemming from border disputes.”
“...oh. Cool.”
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The next half-hour passes in this fashion. Your soft, mild demeanor is aglow with enthusiasm as you pull out book after book, giving him an off-the-cuff elevator pitch for each. Eddie can practically feel the cartoon hearts swirling around his head, bright pink and red bubbles that are almost certainly going to appear out of thin air and give him away.
He can’t put his finger on what it is, precisely, that’s pulling him in so deeply, drawing him towards you like a magnet with an opposite pole. Maybe it’s the tender way you talk about each book, the love and care that’s so tangible in your sweet voice, the way you speak about them as though they’re your old friends. Perhaps they are.
It’s not an unfamiliar concept to Eddie. A childhood steeped in loneliness and poverty, instability and dysfunction, neglect from his volatile and unreliable parents…yeah, he gets it. The wanting, the longing, the dire need to escape to someplace that doesn’t exist, some place where things were better and didn’t hurt, a dreamworld that would be kinder to a scrawny little boy with unwashed hair and a mean father.
The closest he ever came to it was when he lost himself between the yellowed and dog-eared pages of the few, precious books he owned.
So he listens to you chatter away with chest-aching tenderness, already thinking that he could listen to you like this for hours and be glad for it.
“You love fantasy, but you’ve never read The Last Unicorn?” 
Eddie gives you an apologetic half-shrug, no longer able to keep the goofy, besotted grin from unfurling across his face. “Never got around to it, I guess.”
“It makes me cry. You have to take it,” you tell him with pleading eyes, adding it to the top of the growing pile in his arms before he can refuse. Not that he ever would. How could he, when you look at him like that?
“You cry at this one, really?” He looks curiously at the artwork on the front, an innocent picture of the pale horned creature. “But it’s so unassuming…”
“Don’t be fooled, it’ll get you. Take it,” you repeat.
Eddie shifts the stack of books to cradle it in one arm, so he can raise the other at you in a salute. “Yes, ma’am. And when I’m finished with it, I’ll give you a full report on the emotional damage it caused me.”
This makes you giggle, lips turned up in a gorgeous smile, and Eddie knows he’s a goner.
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Back at the front, you resume your previous positions at the desk. Him in front and you behind, this time separated by a short pile of books.
You hold your hand out. “Card, please, sir.” Polite and professional, but with a little sparkle in your eye that lets Eddie hope for a moment that his time with you this morning was more pleasure than business.
He fumbles with his wallet, slipping out his library card and slotting it between his index and middle fingers, extending it for you to take. His chunky silver rings catch the light.
You accept the offering. “Thank you” – you quickly read the messy signature at the bottom – “Edward.” You look back at him with a grin.
He cringes, face scrunching in embarrassment. “Oh God. Call me Eddie, please.”
The scanner gives a little chirp! as you begin the checkout process, nodding. “Will do, Eddie.” His name sounds like a song when you say it, one he never wants to stop listening to.
You finish scanning his books, and slide a receipt into the jacket of the novel on top (which just so happens to be Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love). Instead of sliding the stack towards him, you keep both hands clasped on the cover, hesitating. You bite your lip, an unconscious imitation of himself earlier. “Listen….”
Eddie straightens up a little, stomach flipping like a coin. “Yeah?”
You bow your head. “I’m sorry if I talked too much. It’s just – most people who come in don’t actually ask me for recommendations, and I got excited,” you admit quietly, looking sheepish.
“Don’t apologize,” Eddie says without missing a beat. “I appreciate it. I really enjoyed it, actually,” he adds, eager to quell your anxiety. “I liked talking with you.” More than you know.
“O-oh,” you stutter, taken aback. “I liked talking with you, too.”
Eddie nods, smiling slightly. “Would you like to…talk again?” He flushes scarlet and coughs. Smooth. “I just mean, when I finish these” – he motions towards the day’s finds – “we have to discuss them, right? You helped me pick ‘em out, after all.”
“Of course. You have to let me know what you think.”
His smile gets bigger. “So we’ll reconvene?”
“We’ll reconvene,” you chuckle.
“Awesome. Looking forward to it.” He sweeps up his books, and gives you a little wave. “Thanks again, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
And he can hardly wait. It looks like he’s got a lot of reading to do…
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thanks for reading!!! <3 edit: this is now a series! Read Ch. 2-> Here!
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taintedcigs · 6 months
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so… i love dom!steve more than anything… like big dick daddy steve will always be my favorite but doesn’t he look so subby and cute here!?!?!😔💗
warnings: face-riding, v light sub-dom dynamics sub!steve, dom!reader, steve cumming from eating reader out hehe, praises, fngering
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18+ MINORS DNI!!
begging you to sit on his face, he wants you to crush him, fully, completely. “please, please i’ve been so so good, just need ya to sit on m’face for a bit?” he pouts, hands situated in front of his crotch, trying to hide his excitement and the pressing, uncomfortable bulge in his pants waiting to get out, waiting to be attended by you.
“don’t even care if you crush my face, princess uh- just wanna feel you,” he whines, face all scrunched with need.
“please, baby, need to taste you, need you on my mouth.” he’s all doe-eyed using his cuteness to get a breathy chuckle out of you. big hands itching to touch you and feel you.
“okay, pretty boy… since you asked so nicely. lay down for me, can you do that?” he’s nodding so fast that he feels like his head might fall off.
he’s groaning and whining, his cock aches when you finally get all pretty for him, all naked and positioning yourself on his jaw.
“gonna make y’feel soso good, baby, promise,” he hums, mouth-watering at the sight of your glistening pussy. he gulps, feeling hungry for you.
he first starts by using his rough hands on your clit, his tongue doing kitten licks at your hole and basking in the way you whine prettily at him. he loves making you feel good. his favorite thing is seeing you so proud of him, your mouth forming the perfect ‘o’ shape as you praise him. “you taste s’so good, baby,” he hums into your walls.
“wanna make you cum, baby, can i pl-please make you cum?” he begs, pupils blown wide with desire to taste you on his mouth, he wants your juices on his tongue, flooding his tastebuds.
“you’ve been such a good boy, f’me today, baby, of course you can make me cum,” you praise with lulled eyes, nails scratching his pretty curls. he looks so good like this. all obedient and wanting nothing more than to please you
his eyes lit with a new found of desire when you call him your ‘good boy’ it makes him feel all excited in his tummy, eyes glistening with such lust that he can’t contain himself. he always explodes in his pants when you ride his face and call him your good boy. his chin sticky with your juices and he’s lost in tasting you.
he doesn’t even realize that he came all over his jeans, wet patches forming on his crotch, he only wants to make you cum, see that fucked out look on your face.
and with a few more flicks of his tongue, fingers working overtime you’re close, and his cock hardens in no time when he feels your pussy twitch against his tongue. it’s filthy, delicious and he’s waiting open-mouthed to make sure he doesn’t waste a drop of your juices.
with your eyes squeezed shut, and your vision blurred, you come undone, praising him while pretty whines slip past your lips. he looks up at you with hopeful eyes, enjoying the way you smirk down at him with your breath ragged and your mascara almost ruined by the way you cried out on his tongue.
“y’made such a mess on yourself, baby,” you tut, eyes stuck on his cum stained jeans. with a confused look his eyes mirror yours, and a crimson red color forms on his cheeks once he realizes he just came in his pants again just by eating you out.
apologetic gaze finds you, his bottom lip jutted out, he thinks you’ll be mad, and you’re anything but, a wicked smirk playing on your lips.
“‘m so sorry, baby i just got a little caught up—” you’re quick to shush him. with a chuckle, “i’m not mad pretty boy, you need some attention too, don’t you?” you ask all nicely, and he’s quick to nod, feeling his balls draw up when you speak to him all filthy and with a promising gaze.
“you’ve been such a good boy f’me, baby, it’s only right i take care of my pretty boy, isn’t it?” you ask with a mocking pout, tone all sultry and steve groans happily. nodding like a mad-man.
“please baby- please ride me, need to feel that pussy squeezin’ me. need you to milk me dry,” he grunts, cock twitching in his pants.
and who were you to deny your pretty boy?
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sakkiichi · 1 year
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NOT IF IT’S YOU.
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“I’ll take care of you.”
“It’s rotten work.”
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Luka, Seele x gn! reader.
genre/cw: angst to fluff, feelings of not being good enough, mentions of blood & injury, but soft comforting vibes.
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✧ JING YUAN
Muffled cries and a darkened room are all the company you wish for tonight.
You messed up.
You utterly and completely fucked up.
Not only were you not able to catch the stellaron hunter, but you also got severely injured.
In your defense, the guy was skilled with that wicked sword of his.
And yet, that doesn’t make you feel any better.
Pressing your hand down your bloody side, you reach home.
And for the first time since you started dating him, you really hope the general is already asleep tonight.
The creaking of the wooden door makes you cringe when you enter the main hall, memorized steps guiding you to the bathroom.
Hopefully you’ll be able to patch yourself up without making too much noise.
A low purr greets you when you reach your destination’s door.
“Shhh, Mimi, please…” you utter, weakly, patting her fur with the hand that’s not soaked in blood. “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” The lion purrs again, as if unsatisfied, sensing something’s clearly amiss.
Wincing, you close the bathroom’s door behind yourself, pent up tears blurring your vision as you rummage the cabinets for disinfectant and some bandages.
“And just about what do you think you’re doing?” A familiar baritone sternly asks.
You stop in your tracks, a roll of bandage in your bloodstained hand.
“Jing Yuan…” you meekly manage. “Sorry I woke you up.” You lower the dressings in your grasp, defeated.
“You’re bleeding yourself out and me having woken up is your first concern?” He asks, disbelieving, leaning off the doorframe, walking towards you.
“I’m not bleeding myself out, general.” You respond through gritted teeth, your tone harsher than intended. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
And yet, the pained hiss you let out begs to differ.
“Let me see.” Your lover prompts, placing a calloused hand on your shoulder.
“No!” You pull away from his touch, something you had never done before. “I already told you, it’s just a scratch, it’s not worth worrying over, I’m not worth worrying over...”
“Don’t say that again.”
Jing Yuan’s tone leaves no room for argument, steely as the spear he wields. His usually soft amber eyes are akin to raging embers now, glueing you in place, a gelid chill running down your spine.
“But it’s tr-“
“Don’t. Don’t let me hear it.” The arbiter general cuts off, his voice a contrast to the tenderness with which he takes the stained gauze from you.
And under the warmth of his touch, you let yourself be shielded by the rainfalls of lightning with which he’d struck down any who dared hurt you.
Careful hands remove your sticky shirt, a deep gash criss-crossing your abdomen in ominous shades of crimson. With as much softness as he can muster, your lover applies antiseptic, stinging pinpricks in his wake.
“You shouldn’t be doing this.” You mumble, voice milliseconds away from breaking. “It’s trouble, I’m trouble, I failed the mission and now you have to patch me up and take care of m-“
Slightly parched lips land on yours, ardently, as if wanting to cauterize the raw soreness from your open wound. Jing Yuan’s hands settle on your waist, like stitches putting shards of you back together, your brokenness, a myriad of pieces glued back into a colorful mosaic.
And in his healing hold, you let yourself fall, because you know no matter how small the pieces, by his side, you’ll find a way to solve the puzzle.
“You are never trouble to me.” Is your general’s affirmation when he pulls away, leaving a lingering kiss on your brow as he begins wrapping your gaping wound.
Perhaps this once, you’ll believe it, you think, as the ache dulls and exhaustion starts to take over.
✧ BLADE
The moment you see his weapon fly out of his grasp, all caution is thrown to the wind.
You weren’t used to the sight of him anything but defeating with ease any who dared to cross him.
Yet now, he bleeds.
Staggering to the side, Blade tries to reach for his discarded sword.
To no avail, for he drops to his knees, sickly crimson pooling at his feet.
Whatever cursed fragmentum creature he’s parrying against will land its last strike.
You can’t imagine a world without Blade. Without Ren.
Not like this, not ever.
The next sound in the desolate battlefield is the clang of metal against metal and your strained grunts.
“[Y/n]…” your lover musters, barely any strength left in his usually steely tone. “Go…”
“Like hell I’m leaving you here!” You yell back, your muscles sore from blocking the enemy’s fatal blow. “I’m not abandoning you, Ren!” A lone tear slides from the corner of your eyes, because of the effort or the thought of a world where you don’t get to wake up by Blade’s side, you are not sure.
“[Y/n]… I’m done for.” He coughs.
“Shut up, shut up, shut the hell up!” You scream, now locked in combat with the creature launching their piercing weapons at you.
You manage to dodge a few of its pounces, ducking and parrying as best you can.
But eventually, their chainsaw-like armament grazes your collarbone, your sky shattering cry hurting Blade more than the deadly wounds he bears.
You can’t let this end here.
Mustering strength from aeons know where, you impale your own weapon into the monster’s middle.
Flecks of fiery dust fly around you, before the construct goes up in flames, the image burning in your teary gaze.
“Ren!” You call, running to kneel by his broken form.
“Why?” The stellaron hunter wonders, ebony hair plastered to his face, deep night skies shadowing the underside of his ruby eyes. His bleeding hand reaches to cup the side of your face. “Why did you save me? I’m rotten.”
If it wasn’t because the guy is quite literally holding himself together in tatters, you’d be slapping some sense into him.
Instead, tears stained in yours and his shades of red careen down your cheeks.
“You are not! You never are! And you never will be to me!” You fling your arms around him, holding his weakened body as close to your heartbeat as possible.
Blade never believed in angels, but tonight, you might as well have been one. His savior in a battlefield where he otherwise would have breathed for the last time.
✧ DAN HENG
Night stars and daylight seem to mingle together lately.
Aboard the astral express, you find yourself buried in work. Records from expeditions, blueprints from parts of the train you need to memorize should they need repairing, leads and clues on the whereabouts of the stellaron hunters… the lines of text begin to blur before your tired eyes, eliciting a sigh from your lips.
It might be good to go grab a coffee, you muse.
But looking at the time, you should work for a while longer without distractions, you really could use a breakthrough in the stellaron investigation… Everyone’s working so hard, and the last thing you want is to be dead weight.
As you stretch your arms and attempt to re-focus on your task, three knocks resound through your room’s quiet.
Resignation makes itself apparent on your tone when you ask:
“What is it?”
“It’s just me.” A familiar voice, smooth as a breeze combing through greenery states.
“Dan Heng!” A relaxed smile tugs at your lips, as you get up from your desk to let him in. No matter how many galaxies you transversed, Dan Heng’s presence was always the brightest constellation to you.
Now, it’s not like you can admit your feelings to him, but you’ll enjoy this fond closeness you have now while you can.
“You’re still up?” You prompt, more of a statement than an actual question. “What brings you here?”
“I could ask you the same question.” He deadpans, arms crossed over his chest.
“Work.” You sheepishly say, with a mirthless smile.
“Have you eaten?” The dark haired man questions, the lilt of his tone indicating he is very much aware of how you have indeed not dined.
“Uh… I drank fruit juice and coffee? A while ago?”
Now it’s his turn to sigh in exasperation.
“How many times will it take of me repeating it to you for you to take care?”
“Sorry.” You lower your head. You know your friend is right and you’ve been neglecting yourself, but can you be blamed? The amount of work you took on is hefty, to say the least.
“Since you aren’t doing it yourself, let me take care of you.” His aquamarine eyes pierce through you, but they hold a warm gentleness to them. Every time you get lost in his gaze, you feel like you’re swimming in luminescent lakes under a thousand starry nights.
However, the reverie is short lived.
When you feel his hand around your wrist, pulling you out of your airless room, a shadow of guilt lodges at the back of your mind.
“Dan Heng, I can’t let you do that.” You stop in your tracks, averting your gaze, not allowing yourself the pleasure to dip in the profound waters of his eyes.
“Why not?” The boy’s hold on you slackens a little.
“You have enough work yourself, I can’t burden you anymore…” You mumble the last part, but it doesn’t escape him.
“You’re not a burden.” The wielder of cloud piercer assures you, incisively.
His hold on you tightens a little, his hand descending to find yours.
“But surely you’d prefer spending your time doing something more fun or, I don’t know, useful, at least…”
“No, I wouldn’t.” He responds. His hand squeezes yours in silent reassurance.
You could get used to his touch.
You’d like it very much, actually.
Instead, self-doubt robs you of your voice again tonight.
“Why?” Is the question echoing in between the corridor’s walls.
“Because I like- no, because I love you.” Is Dan Heng’s confession, cheeks matching the maroon of the maple leaves you’ve sometimes studied together.
Loud heartbeats and frenzied euphoria mingle in your chest, your hand squeezing his this time.
“What? Really? No, don’t get me wrong, it’s good- I mean, thank you- I mean, are you sure? Because I’m flattered but- Well, I love you t-“
Your speech is cut short by familiar hands steadying your shoulders. Dan Heng heaves a shaky breath, then:
“I’m going to show you how sure I am.”
A second later, his lips carefully, tentatively, envelop yours. It’s hesitating, and your noses bump a few times, but, to you, it couldn’t be any more perfect.
Your hands find themselves clinging to the front of his shirt, his still poised on your shoulders.
And as you leave fields of stars behind and enter new woods of shining asteroids, you finally let yourself submerge in the pools of jade contained in the mysterious man’s gaze.
Taking a break was certainly worth it, is the thought crossing your mind, as you lean in for another less innocent kiss.
✧ LUKA
“Ouch!”
“Stay still, Luka.”
“But it stings!”
“Oh and the blows you took out there didn’t?”
“But I won, right?”
“You always say that, yet at what cost?”
That is the currently ongoing conversation (or scolding, depending on how you look at it); the same one that repeats every week, after every victory he achieves in the fighting ring.
Because no matter how many times he emerges as victor, Luka always comes back to you beaten up and bruised. Bloody sometimes too, and you can only be grateful for no fractured bones.
You were no healer, but you still remember the first time you saw him fight.
It was his first ever combat, against a much bigger opponent.
Luka was smiling when his arm was lifted announcing his victory, and yet, you will never be able to shake off the sight of his concealed flinches every time his chest rose and fell.
His bruised ribs didn’t escape you.
In the same way that you didn’t miss the redhead lingering for a while after the crowd had dissipated.
Those coughs of his naturally wouldn’t let him go too far.
“Hey, are you alright?” You approached him.
“Sure, I’m fine!” The fighter tried to smile, only for it to turn into a fit of coughing that didn’t sound good at all, especially not with how he keeps holding his sides every time his ribcage so much as slightly stirs.
“No, you’re not fine.” You scoffed, arms crossed over your chest. “You have a black eye, your ribs look bruised and you’re limping. How is that being fine, again?”
“I’ll get through it.” He smiled. His blue eyes glinted in the dim light of the venue, akin to patches of clear sky in the soot-filled air of the underworld.
“How exactly? Passing out from pain? Come on, sit down, I’ll patch you up.” You offered, hurrying around the rundown gym, in search for something resembling a first aid kit.
“You don’t need to-“
“No buts.” You stated, leveling him with a gaze, pointing at him with a newly acquired roll of bandages.
“You know, you don’t have to waste your time on m-“ he tries to retort now, summer ocean eyes averted, his usual smile replaced by a frown you’re not fond of.
“Luka.” You stop him before he can continue his self deprecation.
“But you could be doing so much bette-“
“I won’t hear it.” You cut off, applying more pressure than needed while disinfecting a cut on his cheekbone. “We’ve already talked about this. You keep getting roughened up on the battlefield, I’ll be here to patch you up. No buts.”
A smile crosses the redhead’s face, the swirling typhoons in his gaze calming down to ripples over a lake. But still, some clouds linger over the surface, no sunlight quite filtering through in harp like beams underwater.
“Don’t you get tired, though?” Luka ventures, hesitation and bashfulness lacing his tone.
“Never when it comes to you.” You assure him, without having to think twice. “And no buts.”
“No buts, huh?” The corner of his lips curves upward, the cheeky smirk you always adored back. “But what if I asked you to kiss it better, would you?” The fiery haired warrior teases.
“Oh, you…” And yet, you can’t hide the wide smile helplessly illuminating your features.
Softly, your lips brush over each of the clean bandages you applied.
And Luka could swear your lips are better than any painkiller.
“There, all healed.” You whisper when you pull away, enchanted by the lights dancing in the sapphire expanse of his stare.
“Not yet.” He breathes, pulling you to him by the hand, your weight falling against his bare chest.
“Luka…” Is all you can muster before he’s kissing you full on the lips, his hands on the small of your back, the softness of his skin and the iron-hardness of metal making your every hair stand on end. You cup his face tenderly, brushing sweaty auburn strands away, as you drown in the colliding waves of his intense tide.
“Now I’m all healed.” Are Luka’s words when he pulls away, dopey smile adorning his bruised face.
You’re definitely never getting tired of this.
✧ SEELE
By moonlight, she waits.
From her vantage point on the rooftop of Goethe Grand Hotel, Seele counts down the seconds for your return.
She’s noticed.
Your leaves in the dead of every night, when you think everyone’s sleeping soundly.
Your returns before dawn, covered in dust and bruises.
The puffiness and redness of your eyes, the shadows under them.
In the starless silence, the butterfly stills her wings, listening to the steps crossing Boulder Town’s plaza.
With a swift motion, the wildfire fighter steps down from her perch, leaning against the hotel’s front wall.
“Good night to you too.” Seele calls.
Your eyes widen in shock. Why is she here now? She wasn’t supposed to see you in such a state.
“Seele! You startled me…” You try for a reassuring smile, as if to say ‘hey, everything’s fine’, but alas, when it came to you, nothing escaped Babochka.
“Cut the act, will you?” She scoffs, a hand resting on her hip. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”
“Nothing’s going on.” You meekly answer, tone cold and distant.
Your girlfriend’s violet gaze dilates, concern overtaking her frown.
This detached iciness… This isn’t like you at all.
But Seele’s forte were never hugs and promises for better days to come, no. A fighter honed in battles for a mere glass of water, she always knew how to hit you with honesty, a scythe shredding the rainclouds dampening your light.
“So, are you going to keep looking miserable and isolating yourself?” She scoffs. “Be for real, you are barely talking, you leave at ungodly hours every night and you look like you’ve been crying for ages every morning. So are you going to tell me what’s wrong already?”
You heave a breath, the simple action exhausting.
“I just… I don’t feel like I deserve anyone… I’m not a good enough fighter, I’m not smart enough, I don’t really… I’m not proud of my personality and just…” you inhale, the night breeze unbearably frigid, even though the weather’s not even cold. “These nights, I’ve been going into the mines, to try and help, I guess, or to avoid thinking…” your shoulders slump.
Seele sighs, the bite in her tone completely faded, concern and care lingering as the indigo pigments of a butterfly caught in your palm.
“You can talk to me, you know?” She says, softer this time, her hand finding your blistered one from these last days.
“I know, I just… I don’t want to be a bother…”
“You never are, silly.” Your lover flicks your forehead, wrapping strong arms around your trembling form. “You never are.”
Quiet sniffles escape you at her warm embrace.
You had missed this.
You had missed her.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Seele utters, barely above a whisper, like a monarch’s flutter.
You nod, wiping the tears that started falling, glinting in your lashes like doomed satellites.
“I love you, never forget that.” Is your partner’s promise, with the moon as witness.
For the first time in weeks, you would fly in the sweetness of dreams tonight. By her side.
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sixosix · 2 months
Note
hello!! this is my first time asking so forgive me if i do anything wrong.
so i just saw your event anddddd first of all, i just want to say congrats on 5k!!! and also happy birthdayy!! if its not a bother, can i participate in the event?? if so heres the prompt,
[lyney, earphones(the wired ones), fluff]
your thawed series really made me fall in love with the way you write lyney😭 and because of that, i want to read more of him from you!!
once again, congrats on 5k!!
a/n HELLO ANON!!! thank you so much + dont worry u sent an ask right! im so happy u like my characterization of lyney hehe hes just a silly guy…
info 500 words, short and sweet, modern college au
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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Lynette texted you this morning saying that she had a fever.
Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Get well soon! or an I’ll send you the notes later would be the end of the conversation. Then you’d go on with your day and miss her, but that would be it. That was supposed to be it.
But it was Lynette. And if she was involved—
“Hey.” Lilac eyes overtook your vision, shockingly close. You jumped back, and Lyney grinned. “Are you still texting my sister? I’m right here, you know.”
Lynette You’ll be fine
You LYHBEDTTE
Lynette He’s just Lyney
You EXACTLY WHY
This was a problem because you had been nursing the biggest crush on Lynette’s brother since you met her—and it’s been years. The color of his eyes, the softness of his hair, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiles—
“I’m telling her I wish she were here instead,” you said, hiding your screen from his sharp eyes.
Lyney wasn’t fazed at all. He matched your steps and easily walked alongside you, his lips stretched into a wide grin. He was so suspiciously happy today.
“Are we going to take the bus there?” Lyney asked, his arms still brushing against yours. His chin was tucked in his windbreaker, muffling his words a little. He looked a little red—did he have a fever as well?
“I guess so,” you said, dragging your gaze away from the sight. You could hear your heartbeat racing.
Lyney’s smile softened, then gestured at the bus stop bench. “It’s still early. Let’s sit over there.”
It was empty, yet when you sat at the far edge, Lyney still cozied up beside you. Seeking refuge, you hid your face further in the safety of your hoodie. This was bad. Lynette rarely got sick; this was your first time alone with Lyney, and you didn’t know how to act.
When you glanced at him, Lyney seemed content with the silence. You weren’t—you could hear the loud thumps of your chest, and soon enough, Lyney would notice it, too.
You pulled out your earphones and swiped to the highest volume possible, ear damage be damned. You were not going to survive today. You’re going to embarrass yourself and make a fool of your impressions, and Lyney would get weirded out and avoid you for the rest of his life.
Your throat made some sort of warbling deflated noise as music drowned out your heartbeat, but not your thoughts. Why was Lyney so warm? Even with layers of clothing, you could feel the heat of his skin, and it was driving you mad. You wanted nothing but to curl into it like a cat with sunlight. Why did Lynette have to get sick while you were still hopelessly infatuated with her brother?
Abruptly, Lyney’s head found its way to your shoulder. Stunned, you sucked in a breath, overwhelmed with all the sensations. Your five senses were being violated left and right—all you could see, hear, and touch was Lyney.
He reached his hand out expectantly. You made a noise of confusion, then belatedly realized what he was pointing at. Careful not to jostle him, you plucked an earphone and gently placed it in his ear. Lyney flinched.
“This is loud,” Lyney chuckled, but he didn’t ask you to mess with the volume. He laid back down with his weight and stayed there, unaware of how your face was a flaming mess.
Your eyes slipped to your lap, feeling shy. From this angle, it was hard to tell what Lyney was looking at, but you could feel his smile. It could be Lyney’s unnaturally warm body heat or your burning embarrassment, but— maybe you were starting to feel feverish as well.
Lyney snuggled closer. You sighed and resigned yourself to a long day.
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slushycoookie · 3 months
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Late Night Trip ~ Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader
A/N: A drawing from @scwibbs inspired me to write about going to the store late at night with Miguel. All because he wanted some more ice cream. I hope you all enjoy it!
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“Amor? Do we have any more ice cream?”
You paused the movie, the frame stopping right before the part where a woman gets stabbed to death. You removed yourself from the couch and walked into the kitchen, where Miguel dug in the freezer. Only in his boxers.
“Yeah, I saw some yesterday.”
He huffed as he continued to search, “Well, I don't see it.” You pushed him aside, knowing he had tunnel vision when it came to looking for something in the house. Lucky for him, you remembered the exact place you saw it last night: sandwiched between frozen broccoli and the ice maker. But the pint of strawberry cheesecake wasn't there.
“Hold on, it was right there. What happened to it?”
Miguel didn’t look at you, “If you're talking about the strawberry cheesecake, I ate that one yesterday.”
“What?” Your head flickered, annoyed, “How did you eat that one already? We just bought that one.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck, “Late night hours at HQ.” Your fingers rubbed circles on the sides of your forehead. Miguel was the king of late-night snacking, especially if he was working late.
“Well, no ice cream for us then.” You accepted defeat, going back to your comfortable place on the couch to get ready to finish the horror movie.
Miguel had other plans. “I’ll go out and get some more.”
As he disappeared into your room, you perked your head up, about to protest. It was past midnight when you checked your phone. “It’s late.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Oh I know you will.” You stood, going into your room to grab a jacket, dressed in your t-shirt and pajama pants. “That’s why I’m coming with. I want some more snacks.” As you slipped your multi-colored covered feet into some slides, Miguel was ready to go. He resorted to simple sweatpants and a shirt, wearing matching black slides. Oh and he couldn’t forget his shades.
“You’re not going overboard.”
You raised a brow at him, “This is coming from the person who’s about to go out to get ice cream. At night.”
“Because I want some.” He stated, taking your hand and leaving the house.
There was a convenience store a block away. It was open until 3 a.m., enough time for you two to grab some goodies and go. Cool air brushed along your jacket as you walked beside Miguel. The atmosphere was quiet, crickets singing in your ears and the moon shining down on both of you. Hardly anyone was out at the moment. You didn’t see many cars in the store's parking lot when you went inside.
Miguel’s hand didn’t leave yours as he dragged you to the freezer aisle. Your eyes blinked multiple times to get used to the strong fluorescent lighting. The cashier’s hello drowned in the background from the vibrating hum of the freezers. He had to get his favorites, the strawberry cheesecake, banana bonanza, and tres leche. Your eyes caught triple chocolate fudge and dream boat, so he grabbed those too. Both of you noticed champagne, a flavor neither of you tried yet. Soon, his arms were covered in pints of ice cream.
“We should’ve gotten a basket.”
After a basket was acquired, you made a beeline for the chips. Throwing a bunch of bags of flaming hot ones inside, your favorite.
“You know, I heard they can mess up your stomach lining if you eat them too much.” You glared at your spouse, putting a bag back. Ignoring his smug look, you caught a little shelf of ramen on the other side. It wasn’t much to browse through, but there was no need. You saw that signature black packaging, grabbing the remaining two.
Miguel tsked when he saw the ramen packages you were holding, “I can't eat those. They're too spicy.”
“See, that's the white in you saying that because these aren't that hot.” You quipped back while he rolled his eyes. He took the packaging from your hands and tossed it in the basket. Being the nice partner that you were, you also grabbed the less spicy ones, the packaging sporting a green color.
Moving on to candy, you snagged a few bags of gummy bears. Stashing some chocolate bars too. Miguel picked up some hard candy, liking to suck on a few throughout his day.
“Are we done?” He asked, motioning to how much stuff was in the basket. It was almost overflowing if you put one more thing in it.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”
As you two made your way up to the cashier, who wasn’t paying attention to you and was watching videos on his phone, you stopped at the beverage aisle. You smacked your lips, feigning thirst, before grabbing two bottles of a mystery-flavored cola.
The cashier's eyes went wide at the number of items you had, but he had no issues ringing you two up. You didn’t make eye contact with your husband as the beeping lingered in your ears, but you felt his eyes.
Still, he took your hand, carrying the bags as you traveled home. While walking, you opened one of the sodas and took a swig to taste the mystery flavor. Hints of cotton candy lingered on your tongue with a mix of cherry? Or was that blueberry? You needed to ask an expert.
“Here, taste this.” You placed the bottle to his lips so he could take a sip.
Miguel felt the flavor, tasting like he had a sip of wine. His eyes lowered in mild thought, his lips pursed. “It’s blueberry-flavored cotton candy.”
“I knew it.”
Once you all got back inside, you threw your slippers off, grabbed your bag of hot chips, and jumped on the couch. After putting the snacks away, Miguel sat beside you, holding the tres leche ice cream and two spoons. Both of you got comfortable and resumed the movie, treating the outing as a success.
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sprout-fics · 8 months
Text
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Whumptober Day Four: Shock
(Captain John Price x GN! Reader)
(Whumptober Masterlist TBA)
Rating: PG-13 Wordcount: 1.2k Tags: Blood/Injury, Whump, Established Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Hurt/Comfort, Shock, Blood Loss, Medical Inaccuracies Likely Warnings: Explicit Mention of Injury/Gore
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The world is still ringing in your ears when you open your eyes. The searing, scorching Uzbekistan sun burns against the inside of your eyelids, and you try to raise a hand to blot out the brightness, only to discover a horrible, aching heaviness that weighs it down. There’s noise all around you, gunfire, distant explosions that shake the earth, and in your mouth you taste dirt, grit, smoke, iron. 
A voice breaks through the fog, and you dazedly turn your head towards it, body too heavy, senses desperately trying to clear. It’s familiar, you think, and as you search for the moments before this, the voice of your captain thunders through your thoughts and robs you of all remaining bewilderment.
“GET DOWN!!”
The whistle of an incoming mortar, your hands stretching as they shoved him clear, the thud against your senses that paved the way to darkness. 
You lift your head now that you're awake, and it takes almost all your strength to do so. Gaze turning, your focus on your arm, take in the mangled, horrible mess of your flesh laden with shrapnel. Red oozes out along your side, decorates your uniform in sickening scarlet. 
It’s only then that the pain sets in. 
You scream at the sudden whiplash of it, voice garbled with your confusion and fear. There’s a horrible, icy wash across your limbs, one that feels so at war with the afternoon summer heat above you.
A hand seizes your vest strap, and you choke out a sobbing, broken cry as you’re dragged through the dirt, leaving an abstract smear behind your mangled arm. 
“Stay with me, soldier!” A voice above you bellows, and you try to crane your head to see him, your captain. There’s a veil of dust and smoke that shields him, but it parts for just a moment so you can see his face. There, you see the tight draw of his brow, the thin line of his mouth, and the glint in his eyes that speaks of fury, fear.
The pain is blinding, and you feel tears already threaten to overfill your gaze, trapping Price behind a watery filter that obscures his expression of dread. Your free arm reaches up to grasp at his sleeve, further anchoring you as he drags you through the dirt and sand to behind a small rise that shelters you from the ongoing battle. 
There’s a broken sort of whimper that bubbles up your throat when Price allows you to lay back flat on the ground- one that startles into a scream as he hoists your arms up into his lap.
“I know, I know, love.” He rasps, balancing your arm across his leg and hands working quickly to secure a tourniquet across your upper bicep. “We have to stop the bleeding. Try to stay still.”
How can you? It hurts. It hurts like nothing else you’ve ever experienced before. You can’t stand it, can’t stand the festering taste of iron, the horrific peirce of metal in your skin, the slow churning of your guts that rise quickly to the overwhelming agony of your arm being flayed open. The world spins dizzy around you, a luminous haze of sensation and color with only the face and voice of Price to keep you steady. 
It’s so hot. The sun blazes down from the pale blue sky, seems to provide a nauseating imbalance to the chilled grip of primordial fear that seizes you at the sight of your own blood seeping gluttonously into the soil. There’s a tickle of memory in your mind at the sensation, at a mission to the Arctic circle aboard a U.S. submarine. You’d gotten seasick, and Price had stroked your spine as you emptied the contents of your stomach into one of the sub’s tiny toilets. 
You tell him as much, or at least you think you do, lips moving but words slurred. Price snaps his attention to your, and your vision wavers to reveal the pinch of confusion across his face before his gaze sharpens suddenly. You see it for all a moment before you can no longer keep your eyes open, head lolling limply into the dirt. 
A hand seizes your shoulder in a rough grip, and the shake he gives you is enough to clear the growing haze from your brain, make you realize how violently you’re shaking. 
“Eyes OPEN.” He growls, dark and furious in a way that betrays his fear. You force your eyes open, and realize for the first time that Price looks pale.
“Talk to me, love.” He snaps at you as he works on your arm, reaching for the medkit in his pack. 
“About?” You manage somehow, brow scrunching in confusion.
“Anything.” He replies gruffly. “You’re going into shock. You need to stay awake.”
Shock. That would explain a lot. It’s a dull realization hidden behind layers of pain and confusion. You try to fight your way through it, like trying to move against a riptide that tries to force you out to sea.
“I still haven’t seen that movie.” You try, biting down on a groan as Price jabs a morphine shot into your shoulder. “The one with the…the cheesy love story you hate.”
Price huffs, and you turn your head just a bit to see a tense, odd sort of smile that splays across his lips, under his beard.
“The one with the love triangle.” He tells you, shushes you when you yelp as he turns your arm over to inspect the other side. “And the bloke with the pub.”
“Y-yeah. That one.” You slur back, muscles tense as the morphine shot slowly works through you. It does nothing to quell the tremor in your limbs, and you wonder for a moment if it’s an earthquake, if somehow these mountains will tremble and crack down onto you both. 
Your eyes shutter, the cool relief of morphine soothing your veins and making your head loll limply. 
“Love. Love, look at me.”
Price’s bloody glove settles under your jaw, forces you to look at his face hovering above your own. His eyes mirror the pale blue sky above. You didn’t realize until now what a beautiful day it is. 
“We’re going to get out of here.” He breathes to you. “We’re going to get out and I’m going to take you home. We’ll watch whatever you want. Anything. Just stay awake, yeah?”
It’s an anchor. A rope. A tether to hold fast to even as the world pulses with agony and a sickening, feverish haze. You hold to it, hold to him, to the image of falling asleep on his shoulder as the TV hums forgotten in the background.
You nod, and when it doesn’t feel like enough you force yourself to speak. “Yeah. Yeah, John. I’m awake. I’m with you.”
“There you go.” He smiles, and the tenderness in his eyes is so strangely departed from the ongoing firefight beyond you both. 
He kisses you then, a small peck to your sweaty brow, and you force a wavering smile, hold fast to that too, in the midst of violence that colors both your lives. 
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uplatterme · 1 year
Note
i want to eat diluc pls 👉👈
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a/n: i combined these two, i hope y’all don’t mind
cw: sub!diluc, dom!reader, transmasc!diluc/ftm!diluc, amab!reader, cunnilingus, breeding | use of female anatomy terminology
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Diluc watches.
He stands there behind the counter, watching you as you laugh with another. He watches how you place your lips on the wine glass, the alcohol evident in your expressions.
The glass in his hands is near to shattering with how stressful he’d been holding it. 
He then stops himself, remembering that this is his choice to begin with.
To the people of Monstadt, he’s never been with another. Diluc is seen as a lone wolf, someone that can never be locked down. One, who prioritizes his business rather than romantic relations.
He knows the wall that he’s built around him, the kind of expectations that people expect of being the Ragnvindr heir… and that’s exactly why he chooses to keep your relationship with him a secret.
He will never let you suffocate with that burden.
“Are you tired? We can just eat in if you want.” You ask Diluc, sitting on one of the stools in front of him.
He doesn’t answer, his mind seeming to be somewhere else.
“Diluc.” You call out.
He continues fixing the bottles on the shelves, not responding to your words. 
You’re not new to this side of him, the way Diluc copes with his problems by shutting everything out. It does, however, result in him being unaware of his surroundings whenever he focuses on them too much.
You sigh. “Love?”
That’s when he finally turns around, worried that someone else might see you two. Once he realizes that there’s no one else in the tavern, he relaxes, calling out your name and bringing the back of your hand to his lips.
“Are you alright?” You question him, even knowing the fact that he won’t share his feelings with you, preferring to keep them to himself.
“I’m fine.” Is what he says, despite his right eye obviously twitching when he says it.
“Is it work?”
“The Knights?”
“Is it that guy from earlier?”
Diluc stops his slow pacing behind the counter, about to reject your accusations until he realizes that he’s accidentally revealed it himself with his actions.
”It’s not…” Diluc fumbles with his words, trying to think of an excuse and while he does, he sees you smirking, trying to hold yourself back from laughing. 
“You—!” He shouts, embarrassed. 
Diluc wants to crouch under the counter but knows you’ll tease him even further if he does.
“I swear, Diluc. You’re one of the smartest men I’ve ever met and yet you…could be so stupid sometimes.” You say, reaching out for the glass of water he’s set for you.
“You know I’ll never let you go, right?” You remind him.
Diluc doesn’t remember how many times you’ve said those words to him.
He’s starting to believe it.
You really wish you could keep Diluc for yourself. It sounds a bit obsessive now that you think about it, but having your head between his thighs, watching him squirm, trying to not get ahead of himself, makes you jealous of the idea that someone else might get to see this as well.
Diluc’s hair is a mess, the hair tie snapped by your fingers earlier. The feeling of his own hair on his back sends shivers throughout his body. 
He knows how wet he is, already so pleased by your attention and littered praises.
With your tongue on his cunt, his nerves are on fire, something that his pyro vision could never do. He’s left thoughtless, holding on to the sheets of the bed, his juices leaking all over it. His face resembles the color of his hair, his cheeks heating more and more, the cold breeze of Monstadt not being a bother despite his bare legs.
“How’s that, my prince?” You tilt your head up to look at his needy eyes, waiting for you to continue.
“V–Very well—” Diluc’s words are cut off by a loud whine, your tongue focusing on his clit, his mouth is left wide open, his legs quivering within your hands.
Diluc closes his eyes, taking in all the pleasure you’re giving him generously.
Diluc tastes so sweet, the alcohol you’ve consumed earlier pales in comparison. It’s so rewarding, like the patience you bore not being able to do anything when girls flocked all over your man is finally being rewarded.
The Darknight Hero sings your name repeatedly, begging you to keep going. His words slurring, climax at its reach.
He cums with a pitiful whimper, his body trembling against the headboard. His head rolls back, thighs unable to stop themselves from shaking.
“Should we take a break?” You ask, fingers intertwining with his, watching his entire body crumble and waiting for him to slowly relax.
“No,” He breathes out. “We can keep going.”
Diluc’s back is arched, his soft ass all up for you to admire while you slam his tight and wet walls. 
It’s times like these that you swear the Archons blessed Diluc far too much. 
It’s sickeningly amazing how good he feels, the temptation to fill his insides getting to your head. 
He writhes and moans, his face down on the pillow, drooling at how good you’re fucking him. The way you hold his waist, keeping him in place as he’s forced to take your rough and pleasurable thrusts.
Diluc muffles his whines with the pillow, unable to control his own body and how it reacts when combined with yours, sobbing at how deep you push yourself in.
“Ah, fuck–” You swear worriedly, knowing you’re nearing ejaculation, Diluc’s insides clenching on your shape.
You pull yourself away, something you’re used to doing when having sex with Diluc. Something that you just accepted without a question. 
That is, until Diluc’s shivering hand reaches for your wrist.
“Love?” You ask hastily, upset that you’ve somehow done something wrong.
He buries his head deeper into the pillow and answers your concern, his voice quiet but clear.
“What?” You say, not sure if you heard him correctly or if your mind had finally lost its screws.
“It’s fine.” He says.
You tilt your head to look at Diluc’s flushed face, wanting to confirm again if he said what you think he said.
“What if—”
“I said, it’s fine.” He blushes even deeper than possible. 
“Must you really make me be direct and say even more embarrassing things?”
With that, you continue to thrust inside Diluc’s cunt, uttering out praises such as “You drive me crazy.” and repeating your affection for him. “I love you so much, Diluc.”
You finish inside him and Diluc collapses on the bed. It’s different. It’s raw, these emotions of his, unlike the emotions he’s shown when you first met, filtered by what he thinks he should show you.
Your cums leaks out from his walls and while he’s still embarrassed, he loves it.
He loves how warm your seed is. He loves how you make him scream his throat dry. He loves how deep he’s fallen for you. It doesn’t matter how many troubles come his way.
He loves it because it’s you.
So laying there breathless with you on top of him, he pleads.
“More.”
It’s stupid how he thinks he can get away with saying that without paying for it.
Diluc pants heavily, he doesn’t know how many times he’s climaxed nor does he know how many times you’ve filled him completely.
He hears it when you pound inside of him, your cum dripping down his thigh and yet you continue to wreck his walls and replace that waste.
He doesn’t want you to stop.
“Mmh–Like that! Please!” 
He begs you, any ounce of shame seeming to have gone away.
“Well, try harder to keep it in. Why don’t you? Such a waste, spilling all my hard work…” You tease, the man whimpering as you hit his sensitive spot.
Diluc’s trying. He really is, but with how much liquid you’ve spilled inside…
It would be a miracle if he doesn’t get knocked up after this. Not that he minded if it’s with you.
“I’m c-close!” He sobs out.
His lower half is heavy and he can’t tell whether it’s because of the amount of cum inside of him or because you fucked his cunt so bad that his thighs numbed.
He believes it’s both.
Diluc moans out your name with a rasp in his voice as he cums for the nth time, his entire body weak and shivering.
He lays down on the bed, his stomach bulging from how much cum he’s managed to keep inside.
He stares at your wicked eyes, wondering if that grin of yours is to be taken positively or not. Diluc sees you visibly bite back your words.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He wonders what else you had to say.
Diluc sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to finish behind him.
You’re currently on your knees, braiding your lover’s hair. 
“Your hair would be prettier with some flowers.” You suggest.
He chuckles, tilting his head back to meet your face.
“That sounds bothersome.”
You shake your head at his antics. It was worth a try, at least.
“Hey, if something happens…” You say, concern evident in your face.
“If something happens, I’ll tell you.” Diluc answers before you even ask.
“I see.” You reply.
You tie the end of his hair, the long braid suiting Diluc more than you anticipated. It’ll get curly tomorrow but hey, maybe he’ll start a new trend with the people of Monstadt.
“Next Windblume.” He says.
“What?” You stare at him confused.
“You can put flowers in my hair next Windblume.”
2K notes · View notes
glassartpeasants · 3 months
Text
How to Love .02
Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: Angst, self-esteem issues, fluff, semi slow-burn, author writing this at 4am in the morning
A/N: here ya'll go. Sorry if i missed some @ there's just a lot of ya'll
prologue pt.1 pt.2 pt.3
~~~
Laying on the couch in Law’s apartment, you couldn’t help but constantly stare at the clock. Watching time go by slowly felt like hell, but there was nothing else you could do. Nothing you had the energy to do. With it being 2:03 am, the whole city was dead, and everyone snuggled in their beds. Dreaming peacefully. Yet here you were, awake and unable to have anything other than nightmares.
Every single night since you caught your boyfriend cheating on you with your best friend, the same nightmare happens. A replay of what you walked into when you went to confront them. You’d wake up from the nightmare, and when you’d go back to sleep, you would be right back into the nightmare. It was almost mentally easier to just stay awake than go to sleep.
But the times when you wanted to sleep, you just couldn’t. You’ve gotten so used to Eustass’s heartbeat as a lullaby to help you sleep that now it's almost impossible to sleep without it. Or how sometimes he’d run his fingers through your hair when he thought you were asleep. Just the small things had such an effect on you that even after knowing what he’d done, it infuriated you.
How dare your heart demand his presence despite it being broken?
You don’t know if Eustass has tried to call or text you. As soon as you entered Law’s car, you blocked him on everything you could think of. It took everything inside you not to leave him unblocked on one thing, just to see what he had to say. Being so in love with him that even seeing the color red reminds you of him. His lipstick and the stains it’d leave behind when he kissed you.  His beautiful red hair and how it was soft to the touch haunted your fingertips. The image of him laying his head on your chest, sleeping as you combed through his hair after a long day.
Your vision grew blurry as tears started to slip from your eyes. Pain and heartbreak fill each tear as it burns along your skin. Curling up in a ball the nest you could, you try your best to provide yourself comfort. You had no one’s shoulder to cry on. The two most influential people in your life betrayed you and left you all alone. You didn’t want to bother Law since he was suffering, too, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. He already has so much on his plate, working nonstop, the initial betrayal of (.....), and no doubt other things he hasn’t expressed or that you’ve observed. He’s already been kind enough to let you stay at his apartment for a bit until you find someplace. You didn’t want to be even more of a burden by asking him to listen to you sob.
The whole situation was a mess. Never in your life have you felt more alone than you do now. You lay on a friend's couch, trying not to sob and wake them up. You couldn’t turn on the TV to watch something because Law was sleeping, and from what (.....) told you before all this happened, he was a light sleeper. Probably, even closing the refrigerator door would wake him up.
A memory from when you and Eustass would get midnight snacks before watching some sort of show. When grabbing a drink of water, you’d only come back and see him pouting like a child when he awoke to see you not in his arms. You used to love times like those. He was always so cuddly during those times.
“Why the long face, babe?” Setting a foot back into your room after grabbing some water, you return to see your lover with his arms crossed as he sits up to look at you.
“You're not in bed.”
“Yeah, 'cause I was getting water. Am I not allowed to be thirsty?” Giggles leave your lips as you make your way over to your side of the bed. Placing the water glass on your nightstand, you snuggled back under the covers. Not even seconds pass before you feel two hands grab your waist and pull you closer to the man beside you. Your body is wholly trapped as Eustass wraps his arms around you. Burying his face on the top of your head, you hear him let out a contempt sigh.
“I love it when you're all cuddly. It makes me feel so safe when you're next to me.” You feel him placing kisses on your head before making you face up so he can kiss your lips. You can still see the pink on his pale, freckled skin even in the dark. Placing your hands on his cheeks, you rub his cheekbones and look into his eyes. 
“So glad you never gave up, and I’m so glad I said yes.  I’ve never been happier.” As he groans in embarrassment, you begin to plant kisses all over Eustass's face.
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing the places the angels missed. You need to be covered in kisses 'cause I said so.” Eustass hides his face in your neck before kissing it. 
“I love you.” While quiet, you can still hear his confession as he whispers against your skin. 
“Love you more.” You heard him say no before repeating your words. Fake scoffing, you smile as you play his game.
The sound of your sniffling broke through your flashback as reality came back with a punch. Instead of laying in bed with two strong arms wrapped around you, you were sleeping on a couch with your pillow drenched in tears. The roll of toilet paper you stole in place of tissues was almost gone, as the garbage was filled to the brim. Suddenly, the familiar jingle of Bepo’s collar rang through your ears.
“Meow…” Through the darkness, you can see his beautiful while fur rubbing against the couch. You watch him lift his body so his paws are on the cushions before fully jumping onto the couch. The feeling of him lying by your chest made you sniffle yet smile. Moving your arm, you go to pet the animal lying peacefully beside you.
“Guess you know exactly when someone needs you, huh?” The sound of his purring made a shaky sigh leave your lips. The vibrations against your chest calmed you down slightly. But while the harsh tears subsided, the burning pain in your heart stayed the same.
“Why wasn’t I good enough? I did everything right. Is there something wrong with me?” Racking your brain, you struggle to think about Eustass without having the gnawing urge to sob into your pillow.
“Am I ugly? Did he just get sick of me? I don’t understand.” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you feel your fingers twitch. 
“I wanted to marry him Bepo. I imagined the rest of my life with him. I’ve never loved someone as much as I loved him.” As the confession left your lips, the sound of Law’s bedroom door opening made you shut up altogether. Looking at the clock, you see that it’s precisely 4:30am. How time went by so quickly from your sobbing is unknown to you. Quick to rub your eyes, you listen carefully to Law’s footsteps approaching the living room. Despite your heart telling you to stay down and keep quiet, you ignored it and carefully moved your body up to see Law staring at you.
“Jesus Law! I heard you coming, and you still scared the shit outta me!” You hear him let out a small chuckle in the darkness.
“Why are you awake?” Pulling yourself up more, you try to sit up without kicking Bepo off the couch.
When you finally get a better look at Law, your heart skips a beat. There was Law, standing in front of an open window. The moonlight gave him a slight glow. Almost as if he were an angel. You could see a ‘Sora: Warrior of the Sea’ themed shirt hugging his frame along with grey sweatpants. The sound of your heart beating faster made you come back to the present.
“Oh! Well, I guess I’m just so used to sleeping beside someone that sleeping alone is hard. That and some other things.”
“Ah…”
“Also, I didn’t know you liked ‘Sora: Warrior of the Sea’!” Law’s face goes into shock as he looks down and remembers the shirt he wore to bed. A light pink dusted his cheeks, but he was thankful it was just dark enough for you not to see it.
“Oh…yeah.”
“What’s your favorite comic they’ve made? Mines volume 106.”
“You read the comics?”
“Of course! I have the whole collection in that storage garage down the street. It’s in there along with everything else I’ve gathered from my old apartment.”
“I guess my favorite is Volume 200. It’s been a while since I’ve read it, though.”
While you and Law hung out a lot during that semester in college, he wouldn’t have called you a close friend. A friend but not close enough for him to let you stay on his couch. So when he said that you could stay at his apartment the day everything happened, it shocked him when it slipped from his mouth. But now here, a week later, he’s glad he did. While neither of you spoke about the whole situation that had you sleeping on his couch in the first place, knowing he wasn’t totally alone was nice.
Especially when the person liked Sora just as much as he did.
“Do you work today? Is that why you're up so early?”
“Just couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah. Well, do you want to watch a movie? Like a Sora movie? I’m sure we can find one on Netflix or Hulu. We can even make popcorn so we can take our mind off, you know what.” Law stayed silent as he pondered your offer. Even though he’s not really a movie guy, he’s seen every Sora movie at least twice.
“Okay. But I don’t have any popcorn. I don’t like how it gets stuck in my teeth.”
“That’s fine! I think I bought some trail mix if that’s more to your liking. So which movie did you wanna watch? From what I remember, there's Sora: Warrior of the Sea vs. The Dark Depths. Sora-” Law fades out your voice as he feels a spark of joy when he hears you name off all the movies without missing a beat. A smile on your face the entire time you talked about it.
Somehow, even after catching Eustass cheating on you with your best friend, you still had a smile on your face. Yet, he could see the pain behind your eyes if he looked hard enough.
“The third one sounds fine.” Smiling at him, you pat the spot next to you on the couch.
“You need to tell me where you got that shirt. I want one.” Law watches you log into your Hulu account before searching for the movie. 
Sitting down, Law relaxes on the cushion next to you. You grab one of the many blankets you have and hand him one. The warmth of the blanket held from being so close to you slightly soothes Law’s aching heart, if only for a bit.
“Alright! Movie on!” Law catches you, placing the remote between you before you turn your back to him.
“Can’t forget about my little marshmallow Bepo!” Law watched you grab Bepo and hold him close before giving him a little kiss.
“Since when did you two become so close?”
“Since he let me bawl into his fur. What? Jealous?” Law rolled his eyes, seeing you smirk.
“Not long ago, you said he needed a diet.”
“I still stand by that. Now, let’s appreciate the beauty of our favorite hero!” The situation Law found himself in was something he could’ve never foreseen. (.....) wasn’t interested much in Sora, so he never watched them with her or asked her to. But now, here you were with a big smile on your face as you watched his favorite movie with him, an obvious excitement coursing through your body as you hyped up the movie to the cat in your arms.
While Law wasn’t a movie guy, he thought a movie every now and then wouldn’t be so bad as long as it was with you.
~~~
“Thanks for coming to Skypeia Cafe! Have a good day!” Handing the freshly made latte to the lady on the other side of the counter, you receive a wave and a smile before she leaves. As soon as the door closes, you let out a heavy breath. The rush has finally gone down, and it feels like you can finally think straight.
“Don’t pass out on us now (Y/N). We still have the after-school rush.” Rubbing your eyes, you lean against the counter before turning your head to see who’s talking to you.
“Oh. It’s you, Killer. Haha, don’t remind me of it. The worst rush of the day.”
While it was awkward, you managed to get past the unease of working with your ex-boyfriend's best friend. It wasn’t fair to be mean to a man who had nothing to do with your ex-boyfriend's infidelity. Plus, he was pretty funny when he wanted to be.
You’ve known him for much longer before dating Eustass. The two of you have been co-workers from the start of college till now. While this was your only job, Killer worked at the cafe for some extra cash, but his real job was working at the mechanic’s shop about half a mile from your old place. He worked there with Eustass when he wasn’t at the cafe.
He didn’t talk much before Eustass properly introduced the two of you, but he got more talkative as time went on. It was nice talking to him despite everything that’s been going on outside of work—a breath of fresh air.
“How you holding up?”
“Best as I can. Thankful I have a place to stay until I can find another place to live that I can afford.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Have you heard from Eustass?”
“No. I have him blocked on everything. Have for awhile now.”
“That’s good. You should keep it that way.” An itch formed in your head because of the way Killer responded to you. While it could just be normal advice, you felt like there was more to it.
“Hmm? Is he doing something stupid?”
“You're coping much better than he is, let’s just say.” Killer's words made your brows furrow as you became more dedicated to figuring out what he meant. 
“What? What is he doing?” You hear him suck air through his teeth from behind his mask, and it has unease filling your gut.
“I’m guessing you’ve blocked him on snap too?”
“What is he doing, Killer?” Killer sighs before grabbing his phone from his pocket. You watch him tap on the screen before letting you see the photos on Eustass’s snap story. Looking down at it, you feel your mouth drop as you stare at it closely. 
While you’ve been crying out your soul, that bastard was out partying. It was obvious by the way the picture showed him sucking on a random girl’s face. And another one of him with a girl on his lap. Squinting your eyes, your disturbed to see (.....) being the one sitting on his lap. Only then is when you feel a tear drop onto your hand.
“That bastard, I can’t believe him. It hasn’t even been a full month, and he’s acting like I was some fling. Did I really mean that little to him?” Standing up from the counter, you excuse yourself to the backroom so you can calm down.
“Sorry (Y/N), are you okay?”
“I guess it’s my own fault. I wanted to see the pictures, and I took the risk. It just still hurts—hurts a lot.” You laugh pathetically at your final words, trying to cheer yourself up. 
“You know what? Let’s just continue working and pretend this never happened. Please?” Seeing Killer give you a nod, you let out a relieved sigh. Rubbing the tears from your eyes, you get ready to go back and do your job—just on time, too, as a familiar face walks through the door.
“Law! What a surprise! What brings you here? I thought you worked today.” Seeing your roommate’s face immediately brightened up your mood. You’d never seen him at the cafe before while you were working.
“They were Overstaffed, so they sent me home. I thought I’d come say hi.” Walking up to the counter, you see him looking at the board.
“Well, I appreciate your coming to see me. I just finished with the rush, so take your time.”
“Never been here before. Got any suggestions?”
“My favorite personally is (----), but the refresher Citrus Sunrise is a popular one. I’ve also noticed a lot of doctors like the Vanilla Cloud Cold Brew.”
“Cold brew? And what’s with all the sky names?”
“Well, the theme at the cafe is basically the multiple phases of the sky. But the cold brew is coffee that makes you see doubles. It keeps a person awake for much longer.”
“I’ll get that then.” You couldn’t help the laugh that escapes your throat when he orders.
“Should’ve bet money on it. Might have been a dollar richer.” The chuckle that left Law’s lips made a bigger smile appear on your face. You were thankful that there was a little mercy in the world.
“Ah, Law, haven’t seen you since college, it feels like.”
“Probably. I’ve been busy. How’s life going for you?”
“Good. What about you? How’s doctor life?”
“As good as it can be when the person sleeping on your couch snores.” Killer watches you whip your head around with an offended look on your face.
“I do not snore! Never have I in my life!” A content chuckle comes out from behind Killer's mask as he watches you and Law playfully bicker. It hits him that his place must be where you're staying. He supposes it makes sense. If what Eustass told him was true, then you both would be struggling with your partner's affair.
Before Law came through the cafe doors, he worried about how you were taking the breakout behind closed doors. But watching you and Law interact with one another let him know that you’ll be doing just fine, which might leave a bad taste in someone else's mouth.
~~~
“She’s still staying with Law?! That fucking-AH!” Killer watched as Eustass kicked a lone tire on the ground. It bounced away from them before hitting another tire and stopping. He ran his fingers through his red hair before hitting the wall with the side of his fist. The concrete bricks that made up the mechanic shop's wall stayed put even with how much force Eustass put into the hit.
“Eustass, you have to understand how you sound right now-”
“I know how I sound! Alright?!... I know how I sound.” His voice trails off as he stares at the ground. The burning in his heart feels wrong, as he knows he has no one to blame but himself.
He flew too close to the sun and let his ego get the best of him. Everything he could ever want was in his hands, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied, so he threw it all on the line simply for a circumstantial thrill. And the consequences came crashing all around him like an earthquake.
When you busted open that door, Eustass knew that no amount of bargaining would have you staying to talk to him that day. The heartbroken look on your face continues to haunt him every night. Not a day goes by where he didn’t feel disgust for himself after being the reason tears ran down your face. 
If he could take it back just to have you in his arms again, he’d crawl out from hell itself.
“She’s also seen those party pictures from last Saturday.”
“What?! How’d she see them?!”
“A co-worker showed her. Apparently, she was at the party.” Eustass puts his face in his hands.
“Can’t even drink away my problems without having new ones show up.” Rubbing his face, Eustass lets out a sigh.
“I had it all. Had the girl, the job, all the works, and I managed to fuck it up. Now, no matter what I do, I’ll never get to wake up next to her.”
“If you even want her to look at you in a way that’s not disgust, I suggest you block (.....) if you haven’t already.” Killer watches Eustass sit down on some stacked tires before putting his head in his hands.
“I did that the day (Y/N) found out. Yet somehow, she keeps coming back into my life no matter where I go!”
“There’s always a retraining order?”
“It’s not that bad. It's just extremely aggravating.” The two men remained silent before Killer spoke.
“The best advice I can offer you is get your shit together before even making an attempt on contacting or acting civil with (Y/N).”
“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”
~~~
When you got home from work, you took a nap and a shower, then decided to go for a walk around Law’s neighborhood. You wanted to get some fresh air and check out some new places. There was a thrift store nearby that you really wanted to check out, so you grabbed your wallet/purse and put on your shoes. Yet before you walked out the door, you called out to Law.
“Hey, Law?” A few sounds of movement come from his bedroom direction before he pops out from behind the wall.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong! I just wondered if you wanted to go thrift shopping with me. We could just hang out, ya know?”
Hearing your offer, Law originally wanted to say no. He wasn’t much of a people person, and going out willingly, which didn’t involve working or getting groceries, was usually a no-go for him. But he supposed it’d be fine. Just for today, to go out.
“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he watched your smile grow and couldn’t help but smile slightly himself. Walking over to the door, he grabs his shoes and coat.
“Meow!” The sound of Bepo’s meow makes the two of you turn your heads.
“Bepo!” Law watched as you picked up his cat and started kissing him. Bepo’s loud purring had you holding him even closer. 
“I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t take you with us. Your dad and I are going out, and we can’t take you with us. I promise to get you something, though!” Giving Bepo one final kiss to his head, you carefully put him down before making movements to leave.
“Say goodbye, Law! Don’t make him sad!” Your teasing made him roll his eyes before he scratched Bepo’s ears and said goodbye as well.
~~~
“Hmm. What do you think about this? I think it’s kinda cute!”
“Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Yes, I do! I think it’d look cute at the apartment!”
“It’s ridiculous. We have a perfectly good honey container at home, which is the bottle it came in.”
“But it’s so cute! I’m trying to liven up the place! Give it a woman’s touch.”
“Our place is fine.” Law’s eyes widen when he realizes what he said. Looking over to see if you caught his slip-up, he is grateful when he sees you looking at another knickknack on the shelf. His heart feels like it is going to jump from his chest. Despite all the chatter the thrift store holds, all he can hear is his own heart.
“Oh my gosh, Law, look! It’s a Sora: Warrior of the Sea mug! We have to get it!” Grabbing the mug, you hold it by its handle and pretend to drink out of it.
“Okay, I found my perfect find. Let’s go.” Just as you turn around, your face to face with a woman with a slight scowl on her face.
“Jeez! You scared me! Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes, actually. You see, my son loves Sora. So I was gonna buy him that mug for his tenth birthday. I just needed cash to buy it.”
“But this place takes cards?-”
“So I need you to hand it over so I can give my son his birthday present.” The lady reaches out to grab the mug from your hand, but you pull it away before she can.
“Woah, hey! Sorry, lady, but it’s mine now. It was on the shelf, so that means it’s up for grabs. You could’ve asked them to hold it. Finders keepers.” Was it mean? Perhaps, but you already had your mind set on this mug, and you couldn’t go home without it.
“You're really gonna ruin a child’s birthday over some stupid cup?!”
“First of all, it’s a mug. Second, yes, I am. It’s for someone I care about. And if it’s so stupid, go buy it on Amazon or buy him that Spider-Man cup behind us.” Too busy trying to leave the store and pay, you encase your hand in Law’s and start to drag him away from the lady.
“You really think there’s a child? I don’t think so. I think she wants it for herself.” You start ranting and ignore how your hand is still holding Law’s. Yet Law was overheating with how fast his heart was beating. The warmth of of your hand against his cold one felt unfamiliar, but it was more than welcomed. 
“2.99, please.” The sound of the cash register opening brought Law out of his trance. Once he was back to reality, he also noticed that your hand was no longer in his. Even though it was only in there for a second, the warmth was addicting. While his own hands were freezing, the calming feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own made a light pink spread across his face.
“Thanks, and have a good day.”
“You too! Okay, we can go now.” Motioning Law to fall you, you both head out of the thrift shop. The sun shone down on the two of you as you admired the Sora cup.
“Are you happy with your purchase?” Lay playfully comments when he sees you smile.
“Very, Now here!” Turning your body, you face Law and hold out the mug to him. Your whole face felt like it was on fire, but you pushed through it.
“What?”
“Here! I bought it for you…” With wide eyes, Law looks at you before looking down at the mug. Carefully, he grabs it from your hands and examines it. His heart pounded against his ribs and felt as if it was going to break free.
“For me?”
“Yeah. You’ve been so kind to me during this rough patch that I need to repay you. I know you're probably tired of me thanking you so much, but you really are my knight in shining armor at this time. Expect more gifts in the future, haha.” Putting your hands to your sides, you begin to fiddle with the bottom of your shirt. You watch Law look at the mug in shock before going back to his usual stoic demeanor.
“Thank you. And it’s fine.” There was a seconds silence before you spoke up.
“Well, where should we go next?”
“Going home sounds nice.” Law couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your pout.
“I promised Bepo I’d get him something! I can’t go home empty-handed!”
“I thought you said he needed a diet.”
“He does! I was gonna give him a little toy or perhaps a cat bed!”
“Cats never sleep in cat beds. They rather sleep on top of the fridge than in a bed.”
“Fine! Maybe some clothes.”
“You're not dressing up my cat.”
“I don’t know. Better keep an eye out, Law.” You nudge Law with a smile on your face. Hanging out with him made all the pain disappear, as his presence was calming and gave you hope that you’d be able to get through it all—perhaps even together. 
~~~
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alexisomnias · 1 year
Text
— HIS GAZE SOFTENED. . .
⤷ his gaze softened trend with them!
featuring the DORM LEADERS
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RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
his gaze softened, in a way that's such as a sweet dessert batter melting under an oven. hot heat spreading all over, looking at you as if your the sun he's left to dry in. no one could ever make him feel the way you make him feel, and perhaps for that he is thankful. a relax of the face only you could make him feel safe enough to do, all sides of himself on display for those with eyes who can see the invisible, and for you. a courageous notion it is to let such fondness slip.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
his gaze softened, in a way that is indecipherable. to common folk, or any passerby it would be unnoticeable. Like a speck of dust the same color of the sky flying past the eye. but to those with the privilege of a microscope, its more seen then the sky itself. which in itself may be a silly phrase, but its nothing but true. for something that covers your complete vision, like the sky, you cannot see past it. and when you catch the soft gaze of a lion in your horizon, you should never look away.
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
his gaze softened, or did it? it went by like a blink of an eye, a fish swimming by in a series of bubbles of all the same colors. a flurry of emotion, yet not counted or captured by your mind. and he, the man before you wishes to keep it that way. he will hold his affections down like a sunken ship until he wishes for you to find it. now, he feels as if these soft gazes from behind, watching your radiation from afar, unreachable like a sunset. he's content, more then content. he's not ready to break that.
KALIM AL ASIM
his gaze softened, his eyes upturning in a way of fondness separate from his usual looks of radiance and sunshine. beauty and curiosity, joy. all of it common traits associated with the boy. but for now, his eyes didn't hold any of it, for now it shined like a bright ruby. shines like its his first time seeing the sun, glimmering brightly in the hands of someone who can take him far and wide, someone he would be willing to love, and for that a fond smile, much lighter then usual arises on his face.
VIL SCHOENHEIT 
his gaze softened, the hard jeweled eyes melting into a gooey shimmering oil of which you can see swirl, a whirlpool of emotions of which all mix into one. the professional actor he is, he's learned effortlessly on how to get that look of pure tenderness in his eyes as he looks at someone, but for those who have seen him with you. all those movies look photoshopped, as nothing can replace the genuinely in his eyes when they're glued to you.
IDIA SHROUD
his gaze softened in a way he'd never imagine himself doing. idia knows the terminology from his own... content. and he never thought the gestures could be real, until he found himself looking upon you. oh so perfect you, someone he can't help but to adore ever so. and his eyes must be the window to his heart and soul, as every emotion he doesn't let out in fear of a stutter or mess is said concise and clearly through his golden yellow eyes.
MALLEUS DRACONIA
his gaze softened, as if he was staring at the moonlight, or as if it was love at first sight. his usual stiff gaze ceased to exist when faced with you, his love. he held no shame as he stared at you as if you were the only one in the world, as if you were a birthday present for him. his gaze softened so, as his brows creased and a soft smile reached his face. nothing could replace the sight of your smile, and that in itself causes his body to relax and mind to slow. you make him so much happier, you are his stars on an empty night.
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