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#the only thing not beautiful is this colouring its not it
marrycv · 2 days
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And maybe you’re the love of my life.
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summary : you’re at the beach with ellie.
fluff, agnst
The sound of the waves comforted you. the sound of of the wind hitting on the grass, making the silence beautiful enough to not feel lonely. the sun piercing its ray on your skin. feeling the warmth making you feel like you were in a dream. the comfort, the warmth, it all felt like home. you felt so safe.
and she knew how you felt at the ocean.
she knew it was your happiness.
so she took you there.
You were the happiest girl in the world
-
“isn’t it beautiful baby?” Ellie asked you
“Ellie! this- i don’t even have the words to express you how much i love you right now!”
Ellie smiled at you. her eyes almost closed due to how wide it was. she was smiling because of your love for the sound of the waves, for the beautiful colours drew in the sky like it was a piece of forgotten art.
she took your hand
you followed her
and you and Ellie swimming in the cold ocean was just as pretty as when you were home
she was your home.
you could see the way she looked at you, like you were the only person that mattered.
you felt the love coming from her expressions, her touch, her words.
your world was Ellie.
whenever your hair was on your face, she would put it behind your ears, looking at the colour of your eyes, thinking about your lips on hers, seeing every single details about you- needing to feel you on her skin.
the laughs were like the memories of you and your parents playing a game together, echoing into your mind into an infinite void of empty memories. that you could remember it, and feel it, and wish you could revive it.
all over again.
the feeling of her laugh as the radiation of her sound into your brain was mesmerizing, couldnt look away from how she sounded.
couldnt turn away from her love
couldnt turn away from the sound of the waves mixed with your and her laugh.
“you’re beautiful”
the redness pigmented on your cheeks as you couldnt help but smile, like an idiot.
why was being in love so embarrassing?
it didnt even matter.
maybe ellie was the love of your life.
maybe you were only a dreamer.
maybe even you talked all night, about everything and nothing, everything was an endless loop.
an endless loop about feeling embarrassed to fall in love again with her.
because the day you went on the beach, the day you were the happiest, the day you wore your most beautiful dress, the day she told you she’d met you that day- to repeat it all again
you saw her dancing on the hot sand with another girl
you saw her looking at that girl the same way she looked at you.
idiot
maybe she felt like home, but it wasnt homely.
going in circles again, your lungs screaming of the search of air.
or maybe nothing even happened.
maybe you were just in love, and she didn’t know you.
but it hurts
hurts so bad
you felt betrayed
but she wasnt yours.
she still could feel like the warmth of the sun during the month of july?
could she?
maybe she was the love of your life, but you weren’t hers.
at the end of the day, the only thing she wouldve seen was you screaming like you saw a ghost, looking at her and the girl, their dances breaking down.
can we pretend its easy?
The next thing you knew, Ellie was right in front of you.
“are you okay?” she asked with genuine concern
your tears were blurring your vision, your lack of air was making your heart beat as fast if you wouldve been running for her love. in a way you did tho
this time.
hear me.
“hi,”
how could you talk to the love of your life who betrayed you without even knowing it?
“i know this is random, but it feels like i know you..” she’d say, staring at your puffy eyes, sticky lashes, red cheeks.
does she remembers your dreams?
“we dont.. know eachothers.”
“but i do recognize your face”
holding eye contact enough to make you forget about the painful sharp knife that was stabbed into your back when you saw her dancing with this way more beautiful girl, looking like an angel sent from heaven. how could you have her?
how could she even be here, comforting you, when she had this dream right next to her, when you were the nightmare?
the circle would just repeat itself
“save me.”
pretend its easy, please.
you needed her as much as you needed love, as much as you needed the sound of the waves relaxing all of your muscles until you fall asleep due to the feeling of being safe. of being comforted like the hug of your mom for your first heartbreak. like the warmth the sun was giving you to make you close your eyes and think about how your dad used to always be warm whenever you hugged him. it felt so good being close to him, for the few times you experienced it, you could never forget the need of his warmth or the comfort of your mom
and you find it in ellie’s presence.
but like your parents, they dont last forever.
she didnt know you, but she was comfort for you like the waves and like the sun and as much as you find it all into your younger self getting to sleep as your mom gives a kiss on your forehead.
her eyes reminded you of the forest
her mouth reminded you of strawberries
her laugh reminded you of birds chirping
her smile reminded you of love
her skin reminded you of the feeling of the sand on your feet
her scent reminded you of when you smell to your old perfume and all the memories flashes into your soul
her fingers reminded you of the roughness of a tree on the exterior and the beauty inside of them, so delicate, so fragile… call it the nature’s art.
her personality reminded you of the mystery of the universe.
she was a dream, and she remembered you at the beach screaming for her love and comfort.
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cilil · 2 days
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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 | 𝐀 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬
AN: My last one for @feast-of-horns - for now. The Turgon x Caranthir sequel I promised will be coming, just at a later date. Thanks for reading and being patient!
𓄌 Characters/pairings: Námo x Vairë 𓄌 Synopsis: Námo and Vairë try out their own version of predator/prey play. 𓄌 Warnings: Smut, shapeshifting (Námo with female parts) 𓄌 Oneshot (~1k words)
"You know," Vairë said, spinning silver threads with four of her six hands while a fifth caressed the back of her husband's cool hand. "I have always been fascinated by this feast Oromë is so fond of." 
"Have you now?" Despite his usual neutral tone and posture, there was a faint hint of humour colouring Námo's voice. 
"Indeed." She hummed to herself, watching the motions of her hands as she dwelt on the thought. "We may not be hunters like he and his people are, but I would be lying if I said I couldn't comprehend the satisfaction of..." 
Skillfully, Vairë looped the thread around four index fingers and pulled it taut. 
"...catching something pretty just right." 
Námo observed her with the calm amusement of one who already knew the outcome of the conversation and was merely waiting for it to unfold. 
"I suppose you do, though your prey is both less corporeal and less flighty than Oromë's," he mused. "Yet thus far you speak in riddles. If there is anything you would have of me, you must ask."
"You would make me spell it out and show you, you who knows all and forgets nothing?" Vairë scolded playfully. "But I don't mind." 
Her sixth hand replaced the fifth, clasping Námo's, while the thus freed hand rose to his face. Gently, she turned his head and pulled away his veil. 
"I think I would like to capture you, my beautiful husband." 
Indeed, he was breathtaking underneath his veil, as Vairë thought whenever she removed it. Features too beautiful and ethereal to ever seem as stern and unforgiving as he was often seen, a face frightening only in its irresistible allure and divine grace. 
Námo smiled at her. "You already have. I shall be all yours." 
It was all the encouragement Vairë needed. Her four hands holding the thread spun around hastily, faster than the eye could see, yet with the precision of a true master of her craft. She then threw it at her husband like a net and crooked two index fingers as if to direct it as it wrapped around his wrists like a silvery snare. 
Reminiscent of a spider web, it floated in the air, thrumming with the power of her will and her music, and Námo kept smiling even as his arms were secured in place and his feet lifted off the ground. 
"Wonderful work as always, beloved."
"Thank you." 
Vairë willed the nails on one of her hands to turn into claws and raised it, ready to strike and devour her food like a spider discovering prey in its web. 
"Tell me, what will I find underneath those robes of yours?" she purred. 
"Whatever it is that you wish to find," Námo answered. 
"You already knew that as well, didn't you?" Vairë let out a chuckle, then cut his robes open with vicious efficiency. 
She was going to fix the damage later if she felt like it; there were prettier things she could find for her husband to wear than those plain black robes. 
Námo's fána was, as it had always been, less corporeal than those of other Ainur, almost ephemeral in the way he willed it in and out of existence within the blink of an eye. Some of its features remained ever the same, most importantly his tall, slender figure, his long, almost spindly legs and the ghostly pallor of his smooth, cool skin. Yet other features were ever fluid, changing and shifting at will. 
His hips were narrow as usual, but between his legs Vairë was greeted with the gentle slope of a vulva. Her eyes lit up in excitement — she had desired to bed her husband in such a manner for a while. For even though Námo aligned more with male temper and often presented accordingly, he was just as, if not more beautiful than any lady she had seen. 
"You saw my thoughts," was all Vairë said as she knelt down in front of him to examine. 
"Such is my nature." Námo spread his legs without needing to be prompted. "My flesh exists only for your pleasure, I need it for nought else." 
"At this point you are asking to be devoured."
"Perhaps I am, yes." 
"In that case, I shall." 
Vairë moved closer until she was kneeling between Námo's legs, caressing his thighs as she rested them on her shoulders. When she kissed his folds, she was reminded of a water lily with its petals closed, delicate and hiding its true beauty, and determined to coax it into opening up to her. 
Námo sighed. He was a quiet lover and not prone to outbursts of passion, but Vairë could tell he was sensitive. Almost as if he had never been touched before. Which he had been, though not in this form. The sense of novelty fanned the flames of her desire.
She took hold of his thighs and began to enjoy his new fána. First quick, teasing licks across his folds to explore. Then bolder, dipping her tongue in-between, pushing inside, searching for the sensitive little pearl that would ensure his pleasure. A gasp, a tentative moan. She could feel it now, right against the tip of her tongue. 
Entranced by the wonderful timbre of her husband's voice, Vairë continued. Námo was panting now, trying to adjust to the new sensations he was experiencing. 
Unfortunately for him, his wife wasn't merciful. She could feel his muscles twitching and traces of his arousal leaking out of him, wettening her lips and chin like morning dew. 
Oh how she loved him. Vairë could do this all day. 
Circling her tongue around his pearl, she carefully pushed one finger inside Námo, then two. He was tight but not entirely unused to penetration, he had taken her before in a different shape. 
"Please..." she heard his voice in her mind. 
"You are begging already?" Vairë neither slowed down nor withdrew, instead taking it as encouragement to thrust her fingers in and out of Námo. 
Whatever he had meant to say in response never came as his fána was overwhelmed by pleasure and driven to an early climax, leaving him speechless. 
It was only then that Vairë granted Námo a break. 
"Coming so fast?" she teased. "You do realise I haven't even started yet?" 
He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. 
"Take me as many times as you see fit, beloved, as is your right after a successful hunt."
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Thanks for reading! ♡
taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @blauerregen @bluezenzennie @edensrose @elanna-elrondiel @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @just-little-human @saintstars @singleteapot @urwendii @wandererindreams
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numerologica · 3 days
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What are your thoughts on:
- Neptune 5H wearing rose-tinted glasses
- Saturn 8H predicted to have harsh death
- Pisces 6H can’t stick to routines well
- natal Venus Rx repeating cycles
- Moon conjunct Moon VS Moon trine Moon
- Moon square Saturn & North Node (synastry)
- Saturn overlay 9H (synastry)
- Chiron 2H being bad with $$$
- placements that give insight on best manifesting techniques
© Numerologica 2024 all rights reserved, this article is protected by copyright norms, do not copy, repost, rewrite in any way or you'll be sued for copyright infringement.
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● Let's clarify some basic astrology warnings beforehand:
[ ⚠¹ ] No placement on itself tells the whole story, never. Only the entire birth chart can confirm/deny/change a placement meaning.
[ ⚠² ] No placement can predict death. Not even a predictive astrologer can tell something like this with absolute certainty. There are of course some astrology indications of endings/beginnings/potential problems but surely nothing like «you'll die on *specific date*» or «you'll die *this way*».
[ ⚠³ ] Nothing in astrology is set in stone, it's all a matter of possibility/potential and how the individual approaches to it + a process of growth. Remember the latin motto: "Astra Inclinant Sed Non Obligant" / "The stars incline us, they do not bind us."
[ ⚠⁴ ] The most panic-inducing observation is likely the most inaccurate and generic one or clickbait bullsh*t, always take them with a grain of salt and consult a professional or an almost-professional astrologer (like me).
[ ⚠⁵ ] I don't know who made those observations and really don't want to know, my purpose isn't to criticise/spread hate to them at all, but to clarify the observations I receive in my ask box which I think to be toxic/inaccurate.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
● NEPTUNE IN THE 5H "wears rose tinted glasses when in love", this can be true. Neptune represents imagination, illusions, confusion & idealisation, so people with this placement can struggle seeing the reality of a relationship and likely look at: "how beautiful it can be"... They can be very romantic people as well as someone who refuses to see his/her/their partners true colours even when obvious. They're - generally speaking - the "drunk in love"/"high for love"/"I put you on a pedestal"/"If it's not a fairytale i don't want it"/ "I'll love you unconditionally" ones, maybe even struggling with giving too much in love or being overly sacrificing for the sake of keeping the relationship.
In this case, to confirm this kind of behaviour you'll need to evaluate the aspects Neptune makes/5H Ruler Sign and its House & Aspects, as well as Venus Placement in your chart to see if there are mitigating factors.
⎯ This can also apply to some extent to Pisces 5H/5H Ruler in Pisces/5H Ruler on Pisces Degrees/5H Ruler aspecting Neptune/other planets in the 5H aspecting Neptune/12H Ruler in the 5H
● SATURN IN THE 8H [look at Warning n° 1 & 2] "predicted to have a harsh death", I get where this comes from as Saturn can represent difficulties/harshness and the 8H metaphorically represents death, but one thing Saturn also represents is longevity and old people, so a well placed Saturn in the 8H was - back to some decades ago - used as an indicator for longevity/solid health even when older. I personally won't talk about these themes on this blog as I find them to be incredibly problematic and easy to misunderstand as - in order to talk about them - you must be deeply knowledgeable about astrology beforehand, so I won't dive deeper on this "observation".
● PISCES IN THE 6H [look at Warning n° 1 & 3] "can't stick to routines well", I must say this is not entirely wrong. Pisces naturally have a tendency to distraction, being creative, often on their own cloud, as Neptune can indicate distraction and escapism, while the 6H can tell about habits [the real indicator of habits is the Moon actually] so these people may struggle with routine as they may feel imprisoned by it, they may need their own pace and always try to escape routine with something new which allows them to follow the flow and keep their mind going.
⎯ This can apply to some extent to: Moon or Neptune in the 6H/Planets on Pisces Degrees in the 6H/6H Ruler in Pisces/6H Ruler Aspecting Neptune
● NATAL VENUS (RX) "repeating cycles" [look at Warning n° 1 & 3] I don't really get what this means or to what it refers to specifically... But I guess it may mean "repeating romantic cycles" such as always falling for the same toxic romantic situations or always having similar stagnant energy when talking about relationships. If that's the case I have to say that this isn't much wrong/inaccurate, as Venus Rx may struggle with romantic connections - generally speaking - for various reasons depending the whole Venus Placement and the whole chart, but this case is just a case that actually happen, one of the various possibilities this placement can manifest
● MOON ☌ MOON & MOON △ MOON (synastry), what's the observation you saw about them? Same goes for all the synastry aspects you linked above...
● CHIRON IN THE 2H [look at Warning n° 1] "being bad with $$", honestly enough I don't agree much with this obervation, Chiron in the 2H may actually be overly concerned with money to the point of being a major "let's save rather than spend" as they may fear losing money or being left without it. Chiron is "the wounded healer" and the 2H is also self-worth, so these people may face some struggles with seeing their own value and hence may find themselves signing work contracts for lower salaries just because they don't believe in themselves enough. I could go on for hours about this placement but saying it's "bad with money" is very reductive.
● "Placements that give insight over best manifesting techniques", I'm not into LOA so I never did much astrological research over it but I guess when talking about manifesting potential I'd say to look at Neptune/Moon in your chart or generally your own birth placements depending on what you'd like to manifest first:
ex: love = venus, 5H, 7H
ex: sex = mars, venus, pluto, 5H, 8H
ex: earning money = venus, jupiter, 2H, 11H
ex: travel = where sagittarius/gemini is in your chart, mercury, 3H, 9H
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useful links written by professionals/experienced people:
(¹) Neptune Astrology: The Ultimate Planet Guide - AstroTwins
(²) Neptune in the 5H - Advanced Astrology
(³) Saturn Astrology: The Ultimate Planet Guide - AstroTwins
(⁴) Saturn in the 8H - Advanced Astrology
(⁵) Pisces: Astrodienst - Astrowiki
(⁶) Pisces in the 6H - HoroscopeJoy
(⁷) Venus Astrology: The Ultimate Planet Guide - AstroTwins
(⁸) Natal Venus Rx - CafeAstrology
(⁹) Chiron Astrology: The Ultimate Planet Guide - AstroTwins
(¹⁰) Chiron in the 2H - Advanced Astrology
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MASTERLIST
© Numerologica 2024 all rights reserved, this article is protected by copyright norms, do not copy, repost, rewrite in any way or you'll be sued for copyright infringement.
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craycraybluejay · 8 months
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I am normal and can be trusted to enjoy or relate to things without obsessing and feel feelings without just completely losing it if I experience (1) emotion not numbed enough
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tadpal · 9 months
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if frogs+pools in my work symbolise death cycles/futility/family curses/morbid curiosity/tragedy of knowing then hares symbolise loneliness+isolation+grief+self disgust+self ruin. hope this helps!
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floorpancakes · 2 days
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PEAK (my beloved 1980s vintage SAILORS blouson jacket in sunshine yellow and lime rind green) HAS ARRIVED.
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gay-dorito-dust · 17 days
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Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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satoruoo · 6 months
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ok but satoru would actually know you were pregnant before you did. he wakes up one morning and sees the new cursed energy flowing off you 🥺👉👈
✦°. THERE IS NO WAY. - gojo satoru
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there are a lot of things satoru sees with his six eyes.
he sees the soul in all its glory, pure and raw; a kaleidoscope of emotions and thoughts all interlaced to make up a person's nature. he sees, documents, the energy of all the people he holds dear to better keep them safe, to recognize them at a glance.
satoru knows you arguably better than he knows himself. he's well acquainted with every crevice of your body and knows your cursed energy like the back of his hand. you're the other half of his soul and he'd be damned if he didn't treat you that way.
he's confident that he knows everything about you, but when he wakes on a sunday morning and he picks up on something that is neither you or him, he can't believe his eyes.
there's a slight tremor in his hands as he sweeps the hair out of your face, watching in silent awe as you snuggle deeper into his embrace.
there's a new kind of energy radiating from you, akin to a gentle brush stroke capable of painting a million colours onto a blank canvas. it's smooth and slow like the waves, somehow a perfect mix of you and him.
the recognition kicks any remaining tiredness out of his system with ease. he sits up, jaw slackening. he's looking over you meticulously, double and triple checking that he's seeing this correctly.
fuck sleeping, honestly, because satoru is already wide awake, cerulean coloured irises already as round as dinner plates as he stares down at you.
his six eyes are not seeing things wrong. there are not one but two sources of cursed energy coming from you, who is only a single person.
the cogs turn at impressive speed inside his head, a beaming smile etching onto his porcelain-like face as the pieces begin to fit together.
pregnant.
the word makes him feel all giddy inside. the mere thought of becoming a father gets his heart pumping at laughable speeds.
you, him, and now a baby. a real, breathing, living child who is sure to be the perfect balance of you and him.
(he hopes the baby has your face and eyes. he doesn't want the burden of his god-like ability to interfere with the lives of any of his children.)
satoru shakes you from your slumber with vigour he shouldn't have in the early hours of the morning, half trembling with badly restrained excitement.
you're awake within seconds, a plethora of curses spilling from your lips as your slumber is rudely interrupted.
"satoru," you say threatningly, but it does nothing to dent your boyfriend's ridiculously large smile, "you better have a good reason for waking me up," you turn to look at the clock. "it's seven in the fucking morning."
little do you know, satoru can't even hear you. he's tuning everything out, focusing on nothing but how beautiful you look with the white sheets draped elegantly over your form, golden rays of light seeping into your already glowing figure as you press your face into the pillow with a groan.
"you're pregnant." satoru blurts, unable to keep it to himself for any longer. (it had been approximately 2 minutes).
he snorts at the way you look up at him, eyebrow raised skeptically. you hold his gaze for what feels like forever, searching for any truth in his statement. the statement that you, of course, did not believe.
"oh yeah?" satoru's heart thumps widely in his chest as the sound of your laughter infiltrates his ears. "how do you know?"
he can tell from your tone of voice that you don't buy it. typical.
satoru grins lazily, throwing his form on top of you and affectionately nosing your cheek. you make no move to stop him, you're far too tired.
(you subconsciously take note of the way his weight doesn't crush you as much as it usually does. he seems to be holding back for some reason.)
"i can see it!" he exclaims gleefully. there's so much sincerity in his manner that you almost think he's not fucking with you.
"righhhhhtttt." you say as you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "because you have x-ray vision or something, huh?"
in a way, he did actually have x-ray vision. when it came to cursed energy at least.
"nah, i can just see our kids cursed energy on you, babe," he speaks, hand coming to rest on your stomach.
there's something in the way that his smile softens and his shoulders relax as he gently massages your stomach that leads you to believe him.
"are you for real?" you ask breathlessly. it still isn't sinking in.
"yes ma'am." satoru confirms with a blinding grin.
he cackles at your awestruck face. his arms encircle your waist, pulling you ever closer so he can feel the comforting beat of your heart.
"i'm really happy, baby- ow!" satoru yelps as you kick him in the shin, leaping up from the bed with the widest grin he's ever seen.
"what the fuck are we here for, then? let's go ask shoko to do a scan or whatever and check everything's okay!"
he's not sure it's because you're his lover or something else entirely, but your enthusiasm rubs off on him and he springs to his feet, following you to the bathroom.
satoru doesn't even need to ask if you're happy, he can tell from the kiss full of passion, love and silent thanks you give him in the bathroom that you're as overjoyed as he is.
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BONUS:
"what kind of devil spawn did you birth, babe?" satoru whines, mushed carrot smeared across his face.
you laugh, picking your son up from his highchair. the baby babbles happily, nuzzling his messy white hair into the crook of your neck.
"i think he's adorable," you retort sweetly as you carefully stroke your son's back.
"well you would, ‘cause he likes you more!” your husband complains, "all i get is a slap in the face and baby food down my shirt!"
"that's the way he shows love, honey."
"no one sane shows love like that!"
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taggin: @sad-darksoul
2K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 6 months
Text
melatonin and oxytocin [ s.r ]
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Summary:
You and Spencer pair up in an inn room that just happens to have one bed. Oh, and did you know that physical contact promotes better sleep? Well, that’s what Spencer says anyway. And he’s always right.
WARNINGS: literally none, crazy i know
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: pure fluff, friends to lovers
wc: 5.1k
masterlist!!
a/n: here’s my official apology for all of the angst i put you through in erotomania 😭 i dont write pure fluff like ever so please bare with me if it’s a little stunted 😭🫶 also this is very very loosely based of off 05X21 - Exit Wounds.
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The team was currently in Alaska working on a case, set up in a small inn during their stay. The issue was, they could only provide 4 rooms despite there being 8 members on the team, meaning that everyone had to double up for the night.
Spencer’s first instinct was to turn towards Morgan, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth Morgan was profusely shaking his head. “Absolutely not,”
“Wha-” Morgan held up his hand before Spencer could question his decision. “Never again. You are some kind of vampire I swear,”
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in Morgan’s direction, met with a shrug. “This man needs his beauty sleep,”
“Dibs!” Garcia leaned over the back of the couch she was sat on so she could grasp at Morgan’s forearm. “I call dibs.”
Morgan chuckles at Garcia’s enthusiasm, leaning over to place a kiss on the crown of her head. “Alright, me and you babygirl,”
Garcia’s soft giggle is joined by a yawn from where you’re sat next to her, and you rub your eye with your knuckle as you lean your head against the back of the couch. “Can we just all choose quickly? I’m exhausted-”
The end of your sentence is cut off with another yawn, only further emphasising your point. Your words were definitely more blunt than usual, your tiredness most definitely making you more irritable.
“I uh- You can share a room with me if you want,” Spencer’s voice is timid as he speaks, and if he wasn’t stood directly behind you you’re not sure you would’ve heard it.
"Sure great, let’s go-" You drag one of the room keys off the small table in front of you as you stand, throwing your travel bag over your shoulder and walking around the couch, placing the palm of your hand flat on Spencer’s back to push him towards the stairs up to the rooms. “Goodnight.”
Your call back to the rest of the team is more of a custom than a genuine wish for them to get a good rest, and if you were more alert you’d probably hit yourself over the back of the head for being so blunt. But politeness wasn’t on your mind right now. You just wanted to sleep.
You fumble with putting the key in the door through your drowsiness, but eventually manage to push the door open to the room.
It’s about what you’d expect from somewhere small like this in the middle of nowhere.
The flooring was dark, with a small rectangular rug in a wine red colour in the centre, the walls an off-white with a slightly suspicious looking water stain in one of the corners. There was a dark-brown leather armchair leaned against the wall next to an ajar door leading to a bathroom, with a decorative pillow of the same shade of red as the rug on the floor. The arm of the chair had a noticeable rip, most probably from a child who’d got bored whilst staying there.
The room was warmly lit from the two lamps on the two side tables, the only other thing on them a basket-weaved mug coaster. The over head light was notably turned off, unable to be used at all seeing as it didn’t even have a bulb in it.
And of course, there was a single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room, it’s frame the same dark wood as the floorboards and definitely just as worn.
Although, the duvet and its pillows seemed brand new, a clean, sparkling white that stood out against the dis-colouring of the wall behind it, a throw blanket over the end and two decorative pillows on top, again matching the other decorative pieces in their dark red colouring.
You didn’t even have to look over at Spencer to know that he was definitely a little perturbed.
With a sigh your drag yourself into the room, dumping your bag on the armchair and unzipping it to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to change into.
Spencer however, remained stood in the doorway, seemingly considering whether it would be a better option for him to go out and sleep in the SUV.
His rational brain told him to just suck it up and get on with it, but he couldn’t help that subconscious voice in the back of his head that rattled on about how unhygienic hotel rooms are, especially in small rural areas like this.
Not only that, he was also battling the reality that he would inevitably have to share a bed with you, even if it was large enough to house both of you without any unintentional physical contact; He was at least grateful that it actually looked clean.
“Can I- leave the light on?” He breaks his own train of thought as he pushes the door closed with his foot, surrendering to the inevitability of spending the night in this dingy room with you.
You give him a short nod as your answer, joined by your third yawn in the span of five minutes. "God I genuinely think I could fall asleep standing up right now-"
Spencer chuckles at your yawn and nods at your words, leaving his bag on the floor as he takes a seat on the left edge of the bed, pulling out a copy of Les Fluers de Mal and flipping through it until he found the page he’d left on.
“It has been scientifically proven that it is physically impossible to fall asleep while standing, as your cerebellum would be triggered in response to the lack of stimulation which would cause a reflexive response to make you sit down.”
Of course Spencer would know something like that.
You rifle through your bag to find your toothbrush and travel toothpaste. "So what I’m hearing is I could fall asleep standing, but then i’d just end up sitting down," You zip your bag shut again once you’ve retrieved everything you need, pushing open the door to the small en suite bathroom, which thankfully, was much newer than the bedroom. "That sounds like falling asleep standing up if you ask me,"
Your voice muffles ever so slightly as you shut the door behind you.
“Yes, that is a fairly logical conclusion,” He nods slightly as he reads, not taking in the fact that you can’t see him from behind the door.
“Although I still believe it doesn’t quite count as 'falling asleep standing', as when you sit down your brain then activates its natural response to the loss of stimulation in order to put you to sleep. You see, it is impossible to enter the first stage of the sleep cycle within that split second between standing and sitting down, meaning that your body would still be awake.”
You chuckle lightly as you stick your head out of the bathroom once you’ve finished changing, toothbrush in your mouth as you dump your work clothes over the arm of the chair.
“The act of falling asleep occurs when your brain begins to transition from a state of wakefulness to a state of deep sleep. This is signalled by a spike in alpha-waves, which creates a relaxed feeling leading to…” He trails off as he watches you walk past him, figuring you’re not listening to him anymore.
"Why’d you stop?" You straighten your posture as you stop momentarily in your tracks, turning your head towards him.
“Oh, I- thought that you weren’t interested in listening to what I was saying.” His reply betrays his surprise at your engagement.
“I was simply going to add that when you are sitting and the spike in alpha waves occurs and you begin to fall asleep, your brain will automatically trigger a response that causes you to slump forward, hence causing you to sit down.”
Your body subconsciously mirrors your brain’s interpretation of what slumping over means as you walk past him again to spit out your toothpaste.
"Oh- like when you’re in a car and your head falls forwards-"
“Yes, that is a fairly similar example actually. Your brain receives the sign that you are beginning to fall asleep when your head starts to nod forward, and this causes a trigger within the brain’s automatic control system that in turn activates a response that makes you sit up straight so that you don’t fall asleep at the wheel.” As Spencer speaks, he shuts his book, leaving it on the side table as he unpacks his bag so he can also change.
“It’s actually rather surprising how the brain is capable of performing such complex tasks that we sometimes don’t even realise,” He said with an astonished gleam in his eye.
"Huh, the more you know-" You give a satisfied nod at Spencer’s little exposition, taking a seat on the right side of the bed and leaning over to turn the lamp off, allowing Spencer to leave his on as he retreats into the bathroom.
You’d never express it verbally, especially not to Spencer’s face, but you quite liked when he’d ramble about topics he was interested in and knew a lot about, it was both educational and weirdly charming.
You let out another yawn as you pulled back the duvet to lie down, extremely grateful that the mattress of the bed was just as new as the bedding itself. Looked like you might be able to get a good night’s sleep after all.
"Did you know that the human brain has over 100 billion neurons making over 100 trillion connections between them. Each second, a 100 billion electrical messages pass from one neuron to another. It is really quite fascinating." Spencer continued his tangents as he exited the bathroom, now clad in a black t-shirt and a pair of tardis pyjama pants that you found oddly endearing.
"That’s a lot of electrical signals…"
"A lot is an understatement" He chuckled, moving over to the left side of the bed and carefully laying himself down, making sure he wasn’t accidentally making any contact with you.
"It is so complex that it is believed that only a portion of our neurons actually fire each second, meaning that there is potentially trillions of more electrical messages going to unused parts of our brain." He seems to get lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling as he considers the idea further.
You hum softly with a small nod at his assessment, turning to lie on your side so you were half-facing him as he looked up at the ceiling, and you couldn’t help but find yourself tracing his jawline with your eyes as you studied how the dim lighting from the lamp besides him gave it even more definition.
Spencer turns to look at you after a few moments and notices your sleepy expression, feeling a tinge of guilt at keeping you awake since you are clearly exhausted. “I should probably shut up and let you get at least a little sleep. “ He chuckles awkwardly, “Sorry for rambling on, I kind of got carried away.”
"It’s okay… I like listening to you…" You rub one of your eyes with your knuckle as you struggle to keep them fully open, eyelids fluttering as you blink repeatedly to keep them from closing shut. You weren’t done looking at him yet.
Spencer’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your confession of enjoying listening to what he had to say.
He then starts to talk again, his voice quieter as he tries to accommodate it to your tiredness. “It’s not the brain’s electrical signals that dictate if you sleep or not, by the way. It is actually a neurotransmitter called melatonin.”
“Melatonin is the hormone responsible for controlling your sleep cycle, and it’s responsible for that sleepy feeling we get when we're tired.”
"Mhm…” You nod softly against the pillow, that was one fact you were definitely familiar with thanks to the joys of university, although hearing it come from Spencer’s mouth just made you want to go along with what he was saying like it was brand new to you.
“Melatonin also helps to regulate your body’s circadian rhythm, which is basically your daily schedule,” Spencer explained.
“Our bodies are naturally conditioned to go through a cycle of sleep and wakefulness. During the day your body will release cortisol and adrenaline for stress management and focus, and during the night your body will release melatonin to help you relax, making you feel sleepy.”
“Well i’m certainly feeling the effects of melatonin right now…” You try to keep up your responses to what Spencer is saying without falling asleep, but you can’t help closing your eyes as you focus on the softness of his voice.
Spencer smiles at your response and nods as he looks at you and notices your eyes are closed. “I should probably stop rambling then, since I don’t want to keep you awake for any longer…” He spoke even softer if that was possible, his eyes trailing over your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.
"I like your voice Spencer, it’s calming…" Your words are half muffled as you mumble them against your pillow. "And your facts are interesting…"
“Huh?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow, having not quite heard what you’d said.
"I like hearing you…" You simplify your words a little bit as you repeat what you’d said, a little louder this time, and you force your eyes back open again to look at him.
Spencer’s cheeks immediately turn pink at the compliment, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He is then quiet for a moment as he tries to process what you said.
“You… like hearing my voice?” He asks, a tinge of confusion evident in his voice, to which you reply with a soft nod and a small hum of affirmation. "I hate it when people interrupt you…"
Spencer’s cheeks remain a light shade of pink as he tries to process what you said, and he stays quiet for a while, trying to think of how he could respond to your little confession.
“I… Well… thank you-” he replies, trying to stay calm whilst also hiding his flustered smile.
“No problem…”
Spencer smiles at your response, eyes studying your expression in an attempt to better understand your feelings. All that he can make out however is your hair, and your tired and half-closed eyes.
“You know, you should probably go to sleep.” He chuckles softly, “It’s quite late after all,”
“Yeah… that’s a good idea…” Your voice is quiet as you mutter out an agreement, but you can’t help from feeling a mild disappointment that your small conversation with Spencer was coming to an end.
“Did you know it takes an average of 7 minutes to fall asleep?” You murmur out the fact as a last resort, half-hoping that it will encourage Spencer to keep talking to you.
“Well, it depends on the person actually” His reply is soft and non derogatory, and his eyes remain locked on the peaceful tiredness in your expression. “On average it takes about 15 minutes of lying down in a relaxing environment to fall asleep, however for some people it might take 20 minutes or more. On the other hand, some people can fall asleep much quicker, with one study finding that it only took an individual 65 seconds to fall asleep.”
“I wish I was that person,” You shift slightly to make yourself more comfortable, pulling your right leg upwards towards your chest and incidentally brushing it against his in the process.
Spencer is lost in his emotions as he stares at you, and it takes you turning your head against the pillow for him to realise that he wasn’t fully listening to what you’d said. “Oh- Yeah, pretty lucky huh?”
His eyes avert from you after that, suddenly very intrigued by the water stain in the top corner of the wall opposite where you were laying down, trying to remind himself that it is inappropriate to stare at his colleagues like that.
But despite all the rationalisation, his heart continues to beat at an accelerated pace and he begins to feel strangely excited seeing you move around the bed. You might be tired, but he certainly wasn’t. Not anymore.
Spencer turns to look at you again as you cover your face with your arm, seemingly protecting your eyes from the light of the lamp on his side table.
He’s silent for a moment as he finds himself staring at you again, mentally punching himself for finding himself getting so lost in your facial features.
"Do you want the light off?" He asks you, keeping the tone of his voice gentle.
“No it’s okay,” Shake your head underneath your arm, “You can keep it on…”
You knew about Spencer’s phobia of the dark. The whole team did. It was pretty much a given after what he went through a few years ago with Tobias Hankel. And you wouldn’t mind sacrificing your comfort of sleeping in pitch black darkness if it meant that Spencer wouldn’t be uncomfortable or afraid.
Spencer gives a nod at your answer, and you can tell he’s relieved that you didn’t want him to turn it off. After a few seconds he speaks again.
"Can I ask you something?" He says, keeping his voice soft.
“Mhm?” You move your arm from your face to rest against your forehead so that you can look at him as he speaks.
Spencer's cheeks immediately turn a light shade of pink again as he meets your eyes. “It's… uh… Well, it's a strange question,” He replies awkwardly
“Would… you mind if I… uh….” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “Would you mind if I put my arm around you?” He eventually manages to say, keeping his voice soft.
“Huh-?” You let you arm fall back down to your side as you process his question, eyes blinking more awake and Spencer’s cheeks only turn more red as he sees your surprised expression.
“Well… You see… I- it's a common thing that people do when sleeping… to… uh… to hold one another..” Spencer replies, still keeping his tone soft and gentle. He begins feels incredibly stupid for even bringing up this topic, hastily trying to explain himself before it has the opportunity to become awkward.
“Is it?-” Your eyes flicker around his face, your eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as your exhaustion seems to momentarily disappear.
“Uhm… well… usually it’s for romantic reasons,” He replies, his face turning a light shade of pink yet again. “But… uh… I’ve … heard… that some people like to cuddle in a… platonic way… to help them fall asleep…” His voice threatens to waver slightly as he speaks, and he hides the lower half of his face in the bedsheets in an attempt to hide his cheeks, not wanting you to see how red he’s gone.
“Oh- Uh- Well, if you think it’ll help…” Your subconscious mind knew that Spencer was pulling those facts out of his ass, but you didn’t have the mind to care, not when he was practically openly inviting you to drape yourself all over him.
Spencer perks up when you give him the go-ahead, gently wrapping his arm around you and lightly pulling you closer to his body as he turns to look at your face. “Is this okay?”
His expression screams nervousness as he stares at you, praying that you don’t find his actions uncomfortable.
“Mhm…” Your response is short and direct as you nod, adjusting yourself to lie with your head resting under his chin, allowing your arm to drape over his torso like he’d done yours and bringing your leg up to rest over his waist.
Spencer can’t help but smile as he feels you make yourself more comfortable, sliding one of his arms underneath you and moving the other to hold the inside crease of your knee.
“Do you know that physical contact has a calming effect on people’s minds?” He keeps his voice gentle, as he always does.
You give a soft hum that gently vibrates against the skin of his neck, sending a small shudder down Spencer’s back.
He carefully adjusts the position of his head so that he can keep looking at your half-closed eyes, figuring that considering the two of you were practically intertwined like a pretzel that it would be okay for him to gaze at you again.
“You know that skin-to-skin contact promotes the release of oxytocin…. It… uh… it can help to make you feel calm and comfortable,” He says softly.
“Oxytocin…” You mumble the word under your breath as you try to remember what the hormone is, “…the love hormone..?”
Spencer’s voice turns to a whisper as he responds. “That’s correct. A lot of people refer to it as the ‘love hormone’ because it is released at high levels when people engage in romantic activities or are falling in love.”
“It is also responsible for the feeling of trust and comfort,” His hand on your leg begins to draw small circles against your skin, barely feathering over you to the point where you can hardly feel it.
“Would you believe me if I told you that we were producing this hormone right now?”
You sigh softly against his neck at the ghost of his fingers against your leg, only half listening to what he’s saying as you try to focus on the feeling, and Spencer responds with one of his own as he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, leaving small goosebumps in it’s wake.
Spencer’s fingers slowly widen their ascent up and down the side of your leg, brushing along your thigh as his fingertips gently skim your skin.
“Comforting, isn’t it?” His voice is low and gentle as he feels just how comforting your presence is, slightly shocked by how excited he feels when being this close to you.
“Yeah…” You muster up as much of nod under his chin as you can, giving his torso a slight squeeze from where your hand is around it.
Spencer smiles at your gentle squeeze of his torso, noting how light it is as you barely manage to add any pressure at all.
“Do you know that physical touch also triggers a person’s serotonin and dopamine production?” He asks you softly.
As if to test his fact himself, he moves his thumb up and down your thigh with a little more pressure, his fingertips leaving behind a trail of almost unnoticeable goosebumps.
“Yeah… Yeah I knew that…”
Spencer smiles softly at your confirmation. “Then you know the feeling they’re giving you right now?”
You give him another small nod as he pulls you a little closer to him, stroking his fingers a little higher up your thigh. His arm underneath your side shifts to your mid back and starts to gently massage at the tense muscles formed over your last few days bent over a desk to work on the case’s profile.
The slow pressure elicits a soft groan from your lips, a pleasant release from all of the tension you’d been carrying over the last few days, slowly dissipating as his fingers worked their magic over your t-shirt.
Spencer can feel you starting to relax into his body as his fingers work against your skin, and his breath threatens to catch in his throat as your hand moves from resting around his torso to up over his shoulder, fingers curling closed against the fabric of his t-shirt.
Spencer leans his nose against the crown of your head, the trace scent of lavender entering his nose as he took a slow breath in, most likely a trace from when you’d last washed your hair.
By this point, the two of you were very aware that the position you were in was anything but platonic, his hand tracing patterns into your thigh, your head pressed into the crook of his neck, and your hand slowly tracing over the curve of his shoulder to take it’s place cupping his cheek, your thumb pressed against the front of his ear with the rest of your fingers splayed in the soft curls gracing the side of his head.
“I’ve run out of facts…” Spencer laughs nervously at his confession, breaking the small silence between you.
“you’ve run out of facts…?” You force your eyes to blink open again as you repeat his statement as a question, pulling your head out of it’s position under his chin to look up at him curiously as you arbitrarily trace your thumb over his jaw. It wasn’t at all like Spencer to just not have anything to say.
Spencer’s face turns a dark shade of red when he hears your question, made much worse at the feeling of your thumb on his jaw, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine. “I- Yeah….” He says quietly.
Suddenly a thought passes through his brain.
“I… actually…. I do have one more fact…” his voice turns to a whisper as he speaks, a tinge of nervousness still lingering in his tone.
“Hmm?” Your expression brightens a little, and he catches the small glisten in your eyes as the dim light from the lamp reflects off of your irises.
There’s a short pause.
Spencer then clears his throat before speaking.
“...Do you know that right now... at this very moment... I want to kiss you…?”
He remains facing away, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin as he mutters out his confession, trailing off at the end to the point where if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard it.
“...Is that okay…?” His voice was barely a whisper, scared that if he were to speak too loudly he’d scare you off and you’d never want to speak to him again.
“You want to… kiss me..?” His confession spurred you further awake, no longer struggling to keep your eyes open as you scanned his expression, your hand halting its movement against his jaw.
The sight of you gazing up at him makes his heart skip a beat and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach. Spencer then looks down at the space between your noses, and speaks nervously.
“…I- Yes, I want… to kiss you…” His eyes quickly dart over to your lips and back again as he waits for any signal of acknowledgement or refusal.
“Will it help us fall asleep?” The question leaves your mouth instinctively as a way to try an alleviate the mild awkwardness between the two of you, and you internally berate yourself for not taking the situation seriously.
Spencer laughs a small, nervous laugh when you ask if it would help you both fall asleep, moving his hands back over to your thigh and gently brushing his fingertips against it.
Spencer then looks down at your lips again as he speaks. “No, I don’t think so…” He says, his tone once again turning to a whisper. “…if anything it might actually wake us both up further…”
“Just say it will so I can kiss you-“ Spencer remains silent for a moment, face frozen in shock. He then lets out a nervous sigh as he looks down at your lips again.
“…It- Yeah- Yeah it’ll help us fall asleep…” he whispers, his voice barely audible, and he gives you a nod that’s a little too eager.
“Then there’s no harm in trying right?” Your hand cups the side of his face, gently encouraging it down towards yours so you can finally place a kiss on those perfect pink lips of his.
“Yeah…” He slowly leans forward towards you, taking in your faint scent, the warmth coming from your breath, the softness and moisture of your lips.
Spencer’s lips slowly press against yours, just barely ghosting them with the tiniest bit of pressure. He then slowly pulls back, his eyes darting all over your face before again settling on the stain in the corner of the wall. It was just so interesting.
You take his chin in your hand gently to turn his face back towards your own, your thumb gently tracing the line under his bottom lip as your eyes scan his cheeks, pouring over the extremely faint spotted freckles over his cheeks. You’d never noticed them before. But then again you’d never been close enough to.
“I’m not quite sure it worked… Maybe we should try again…” You watch as Spencer’s face erupts into a beautiful pink flush, a soft breath resembling a laugh leaving his mouth. “Yeah, we can try again-”
Spencer nods as he speaks cutting his own sentence short as he leans down to kiss you again, adding a little more pressure this time as he seemingly grows in confidence. The kiss remains chaste and short, and as he pulls away for the second time his eyes remain fixed on you, smiling alongside his mouth.
“Is it working now?” He laughs softly as he speaks, eyelashes gently fluttering as he places a kiss on the bridge of your nose, his fingers slowly sliding into your hair at your temples.
“I’m not sure yet…” You respond with a kiss of your own placed against the curve of his chin. “Maybe we should keep going…” You place another kiss right in the corner of his mouth, and Spencer sighs softly as it misses his lips by a hair. “For research purposes…”
He smiles lightly when you mention it being for ‘research’, and his voice grows even quieter as he speaks.
“Yeah… research purposes…”
1K notes · View notes
qvrcll · 8 months
Text
the little things they do — luffy, zoro, nami, usopp & sanji.
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summary: what do they do that makes you tick? that makes your heart glide through your chest and fester at your throat? that makes you glissade through hell itself, for the pleasure that it brings?
warnings: slight tension but no nsfw, fluff, nothing too bad!
notes: i started binge watching op / opla recently and decided to give i a go at writing for them! literally could not stop my fingers from typing this out. i’m a little new to op, so i hope you enjoy nonetheless :-] i promise im working on another part of college melodrama! i just wanted to try something new to get the brain juices flowing <3
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sanji — moves you by your waist
sanji is keen with his women, but with you, he’s even more so. he’s gentle with it, even if he doesn’t need to be, because you make him aberrantly nervous, yet vilely confident in his etiquette — and today just cements it. it’s a boring day, and that prompts you to keep yourself stationed in the kitchen, where the rest of the straw hats find their own circles to situate themselves in (pure boredom, much to sanji’s dismay). the space is overcrowding and you’re halfway into disputing something that luffy insists is true fact, when sanji’s mellow palms come to gripe gently, carefully, at your waist — “excuse me, beautiful,” he mouths, fiendish and close to tasting his teeth in a marvellous grin as he effortlessly moves you, gingerly in so many ways, so he can reach the cabinet. you stutter out some convoluted version of a yes, o-of course! … safe to say, you can barely pay much consideration to luffy’s rebuttal as the tepedity of the cook’s hands lay in repetitive, illusive strokes against your hips for more times than one to just consider it an act to retrieve spices from a cabinet.
zoro — has one hand in your back pocket
he’s silent, mischievous with his antics. the upper part of your brain warns you of his skepticism, his cruelly hard body, his thick cheek. but your heart buds violently under what you can only assume is his effect. and it’s only furthered, when you are too close to him for comfort in this mini-party the crew has going on atop the going merry. you spot him nodding off in the corner of your eye, barely even knowing of his current footing in his chair as he slumps off. you urge him to go to bed, to ditch the drinks and gain a full night’s rest. but he shakes his head stiffly, his rather large hand slinking into the back pocket of your pants, where it lays dormant and so, so close to squeezing. “stay. this way, i won’t lose you.” you fail to yelp, because every nerve has been short-wired. twisted. re-twisted. re-wired. you can only stand close, fluxing against the warmth of his palm in your back pocket, as the faintest of reds colour his cheeks. a smile is welcome.
luffy — hugs your waist
being a captain is luffy’s share of the burden that comes with his quest of finding the one piece. he swears its easier than he allows it, but his body is different on days like these. days when he’s laying, tired and inaccessible to his usual bouts of energy. days like these, you can’t navigate around his lethargy, that comes slow and unmoving, similar to his resolve. his arms are around you, tight and interlocking further like a snake, his face buried against your stomach as he uses you as a stationary pillow. and you try to remind him that there are things you need to resume, things you need to conduct on the going merry, but when you turn to move, excuse yourself, he tightens, and his nose brushes against the sensitive skin beneath your button up in a nimble attempt to get you to stay still. “mmm… five—no, ten more minutes… i promise.”
nami — rests her head in the crook of your neck
it’s not an easy job sorting the day’s itinerary into tidy, little boxes and shelves, whilst the boat rocks to a cathartic beat around you. nami is here, to help you, but you are unable to shake off the tension wearing you down. your skin feels like paper and the bottom side of your shoes are sticky with sea water and your hands feel like rubber. you could rival luffy. it makes you feel awful, gets you hot and antsy so quickly, that nami blinks twice. of course, you apologise. you always have. but nami gets the directive before you do, and she reaches forward to hug you close to her chest. her nose tickles your neck and the space is living with her breath — the crook of your neck. “how about we stay like this for a bit, hm?” it’s more for your own means to find ground amongst your frustrations, to help you calm down, but nami has always loved being close to you. she always has.
usopp — holds you close to protect you
the great captain usopp. mighty warrior of the sea. well, not the great when the sea is colliding into rows of wood at maximum speed, which rocks the entire great vessel. you try to be less of a deterrence, try to find your own standing in the room you’re in with usopp, but your body is thrown across the room in one fell swoop, where you meet halfway into usopp’s chest. there’s a messy string of syllables that leave your lips, a creaky apology as you try to maintain some space between you (for the sake of your enervated heart), but he’s quicker. an ability derived from his sharp-shooter skills, you’re sure. his arm wraps around your waist and he allows you to crowd his chest. allows you to hold him like a pillar against the raging sea when it sends a rather alarming rock to the ship. “hold on tight — you’ve got nothing to worry about with captain usopp here. you hear?”
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© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.
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parkerslatte · 7 months
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Overlooked | Part One
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Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: none.
Summary: Y/N, the eldest Archeron sister, and while the Inner Circle are invited to the Autumn Court by Eris, the new High Lord, Y/N and Eris meet for the first time and the bond snaps.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue
•••
Y/N Archeron was always overlooked. Her whole life she would always be looked over in favour of her younger sisters. Of course when Y/N was human, she learnt to live with it. She did what she could to try and support her family, picking up as many jobs as she could. The only one who ever thanked her was Feyre. 
Once Y/N was made into fae and her entire life was flipped upside down, she felt more overlooked than she had in her whole life. Feyre had Rhys. Nesta had Cassian. Elain had Lucien and Azriel. Y/N had no one. Of course Mor took it upon herself to bring her along to Rita’s every time she went. Occasionally Y/N would go home with someone but in recent months, she preferred to be alone. 
Now as she sat alone in her apartment, there was a pain in her heart. The last few months, Y/N had been more lonely than ever. She had barely seen her sisters and the rest of the Inner Circle. Azriel was the only one she had seen and it was in passing, Y/N didn’t stick around for a full conversation. 
There was a knock at her door and Y/N sighed before dragging her feet to the front door and opened it up. Feyre was standing on the other side with a friendly smile on her face. Her hair was tied up and her hands were covered in dried paint. 
“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Feyre said, wrapping her eldest sister in a hug. 
Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled as she wrapped her arms around her youngest sister. It was the first hug she had received in a while. 
“What are you doing here? How’s Nyx?” Y/N asked. 
“He’s great,” Feyre said, lighting up at the mention of her son. “He misses you though.”
“I miss him too,” Y/N said. “I’ve been a bit busy lately, but I’ll visit everyone soon.”
“About that,” Feyre said as the two took a seat on Y/N’s couch. “We have been summoned to the Autumn Court. Eris has become the new High Lord and we need to build his trust. There is a ball and we must be in attendance.”
“Oh,” Y/N said, deflating the smallest amount. Her sister hadn’t come to see her to catch up.
“The whole Inner Circle is attending,” Feyre continued. 
“But I’m not a part of the Inner Circle,” Y/N replied. 
“Of course you are!” Feyre exclaimed. “You are family.”
It doesn’t feel like it, Y/N thought.
“When is this happening?” Y/N asked. 
“Two days time,” Feyre replied. 
Y/N only nodded and Feyre stood up from the couch. “I need to get back home, but I’ll come to collect you in two days.” 
Y/N didn’t bother to rise from the couch as Feyre hugged her and bid her goodbye as she exited her home. There was a pain in Y/N’s heart as she folded in on herself. All she wanted was her sisters and even they didn’t have the time for her anymore. 
***
Two days later, Y/N wore a gown that left little to the imagination. The slits in the skirt ended at her upper thigh and the plunging neckline and tight bodice accentuated her curves. Despite the way she was feeling, Y/N smiled at her reflection. 
When Feyre met with Y/N and was winnowed to the rest of the group, she remained on the outskirts. Everyone greeted her yet it felt as if they were only doing it out of common courtesy. Y/N never wanted to go back to her apartment more than ever. 
The Night Court was beautiful and Y/N would admit that. But the moment she got to the Autumn Court, she was taken by its beauty. The colours of the leaves and trees put her at ease. The slight breeze ruffled her hair as a smile tugged at her lips.
The feeling of being in the Autumn Court was different and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing or not. She felt a small tug within her that drew her in. 
While everyone didn’t even stop to look around, Y/N lingered behind everyone looking around in wonder. Even when they entered the hall where the ball was taking place. Y/N gasped. 
The intricate architecture and the walls that seemed to shine took her breath away. The rest of the Inner Circle didn’t even react. Rhysand’s gaze was fixated on Eris standing at the very end of the room, lounging on his throne. 
When Y/N finally tore her gaze away from the high ceiling, her gaze finally landed on Eris. There was a slight tug within her that made her freeze. Eris’s gaze bore into hers as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression hardened just as quickly as he tore his gaze away from Y/N. 
“Rhysand,” Eris greeted, standing up from his throne. “Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence.”
Y/N didn’t listen to Rhysand’s response as her gaze was fixated on Eris. There was a small frown on her face. There was a tug within her that she didn’t fully understand but she wanted to know more. 
Before Y/N knew it, everyone was mingling as she stood on the outskirts of the room, sipping her wine. Many males had approached her to dance but Y/N simply denied them. She had stayed near her sisters at first but as they went off with their mates, and in Elain’s case, Azriel, Y/N remained on her own. 
Feyre had spoken to her briefly and Nesta and Elain had exchanged a couple of words but there was nothing more than that. There was never anything more than that. 
Y/N watched as everyone danced and truly looked happy. Happier than she had ever seen them. Y/N could tell that she didn’t fit anywhere within their happiness. With a sigh, Y/N placed her empty wine glass down and slipped out of the room. 
She didn’t stray too far, the music could still be heard and Y/N hummed along. The night sky was filled with stars and Y/N simply sat herself down on the grass. The Autumn Court was beautiful. 
Y/N’s relaxed body suddenly tensed as she heard footsteps behind her. 
“The eldest Archeron sister.”
Y/N looked in the direction of the voice and her eyes wide fed as she felt the tug in her chest pull even more as Eris stood beside her. 
“Yes?” Y/N said. 
A smirk was present on Eris’s face as he lowered himself down so sit beside her. She was surprised. The High Lord of Autumn just sat on the grass beside her willingly. From what everyone had spoken about Eris, Y/N didn’t expect him to do that. 
“I haven’t seen you before,” Eris said, his tone casual. 
“I haven’t had a reason to make myself known,” Y/N responded. “I try not to be a part of anyone’s business.”
“But you were Made,” said Eris, leaning back on his elbows. “That makes you everyone’s business.” 
Y/N scoffed. “I never wanted to be Made. I was content with my life.”
Eris hummed.
Y/N glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. The tug happened again and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“I was content with my life when I still felt like I had a family,” Y/N wasn’t entirely sure why she had told Eris that but she felt relieved that it was off her chest. 
Eris frowned. “You have three sisters.”
Y/N laughed humorously. “Three sisters who are happy with their relationships and families that they never spare a look my way. Ever since I was Made and have been trapped within the Night Court, I have felt my own sisters distancing themselves from me. I know it isn’t intentional. They have their own lives and I have mine. They each have their someone. They have someone to look after and someone to look after them. I am completely alone.”
There was nothing stopping the words spilling out of her mouth and she didn’t want to stop them. The weight on her chest was seemingly lifting with every word she spoke. However once Y/N realised who she was speaking to, her words ceased. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how sad my life is,” Y/N said, wiping away a tear she didn’t know had escaped. 
“You feel trapped in the Night Court?” Eris questioned. 
“Trapped was the wrong word I think,” Y/N said. “I was welcomed at first but Rhys never allowed me to leave on my own in the first few months. I had to either stay indoors or have an escort everyday I went. It was suffocating. Even now, I am still told to stay within Velaris.”
“It has been years,” Eris said. “Why don’t you leave?” 
Y/N shrugged. “I am not sure where I would go. It’s not like I know anyone else and I wouldn’t be welcome back to my old life. So I guess I am trapped.”
Eris didn’t respond as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He held out his hand to Y/N. 
“Come and dance with me,” Eris said. 
For some reason, Y/N felt herself reaching up to touch his hand. As soon as her fingers brushed his, Eris closed his hand around hers and pulled her to her feet. 
Y/N’s heart raced as they stood chest to chest. That pull in her chest became tight. 
Eris’s eyes glanced down at her, his eyes fighting to remain on her eyes. He failed as he looked down at her body and the dress that clung to it. The colour perfectly matching his jacket. 
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N questioned, her voice a whisper. 
Eris’s eyes locked with hers again, as Isal could easily get lost in them. “What have they told you about me?”
“That you are rude, manipulative, dangerous,” Y/N answered. “They mentioned that you proposed to my sister after only one dance.”
“And do you know the reason for that,” Eris whispered, stepping closer to Y/N. 
The eldest Archeron shook her head, her heart hammering against her chest as the close proximity. 
“My father,” Eris spat, “was forcing my hand in marriage, he didn’t care who it was. I fought against it but once he…” Eris trailed off and sighed, though Y/N didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that it would continue if I didn’t marry.”
“So you proposed to my sister,” Y/N concluded.
“I’ll be honest and say that it was a spur of the moment decision and I knew that it would piss off your High Lord and his lapdogs.”
“He isn’t my High Lord,” Y/N responded. 
“Oh? Then who is?” Eris’s voice was low and rumbled in his chest. Y/N's hands moved on their own accord to rest firmly against his firm chest. Not to push him away but to feel him. 
“No one,” Y/N said. “I am not controlled by anyone.”
Eris smirked. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Before Y/N could muster up a response, Eris had laced his fingers with hers and pulled her toward the ballroom. It was still lively and everyone still danced with their partners. However as Eris entered the room, all attention seemed to divert towards him, and then to Y/N, who didn’t shrink away from the stares. 
Eris brought her to the centre of the ballroom. His gaze focussed on her. Y/N swallowed, suddenly nervous. Even though many others had returned to dancing, Y/N could still feel the stares of those of the Night Court. From the corner of her eye, she could see Rhysand’s face twist into one of anger. Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care. 
“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me,” Eris muttered as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her body flush with his and they began to dance to the music. 
At first Y/N couldn’t focus on anything but the stares of her sisters and their mates, but as soon as she felt Eris lightly squeeze her hand, she shifted focus to him. They danced around the ballroom with ease and Y/N found herself smiling. Y/N was surprised that the smirk Eris had was changed. Now a genuine smile graced his handsome face. It suited him.
“You are quite beautiful, Y/N Archeron,probably the most beautiful female I have ever encountered,” Eris muttered.
Y/N flushed and tried to ignore her pounding heart.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Y/N asked as he spun her around. “You never answered my question.”
As she was spun back into his chest, Eris held onto her tightly. “You feel it too, don’t you? That tug. That pull that began as soon as you set eyes on me.”
Y/N didn’t respond but the answer was in her eyes. 
“I feel it too,” Eris whispered into her ear. “And do you know what it is?”
Y/N had a feeling she knew what it was but she didn’t want to say it, in fear of being wrong and in fear of what would happen after. 
“A mating bond,” Eris whispered, his lips brushing against her ear and Y/N’s body was immediately covered in goosebumps. 
Y/N pulled away and looked into Eris’s eyes. There was something in the back of her mind telling her that he was lying and it was all some big joke. But the moment she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity. 
Eris pressed his forehead against Y/N’s and she felt that cord within her tighten more until it snapped into place. There was no more feeling of the pushing and pulling. Her body seemed to get warmer and she gasped. 
“You are my mate,” Y/N said in disbelief. 
Eris smiled. “And you are mine.”
From across the ballroom, Rhysand stood with the rest of the Inner Circle, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at Eris. The High Lord of Autumn, listed his gaze from Y/N for the first time since they had begun to dance and locked it onto Rhysand. 
“I think your brother in law wants to talk,” Eris commented. 
Y/N ripped her attention away from Eris and turned it to her family standing the opposite side of the ballroom. Feyre’s eyes held a sense of pleading for her to get away from Eris. Nesta and Elain stood by her side, unreadable expressions on both of their faces. 
“Why should I care what they have to say? It’s not like they have taken any care in what I have to say.” Y/N answered. 
“I would love to return to dancing with you and let Rhysand do his own thing, whether that be leaving or brooding,” Eris said, his hand gripping her waist. “But I need to keep up appearances tonight.”
Eris led Y/N out of the ballroom and into the hallway, the rest of the Inner Circle following behind them. 
“What are you doing with him, Y/N?” Rhysand said as soon as the door was closed. 
“Dancing,” Y/N responded bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.
“Y/N, just come with us,” Feyre pleaded to her older sister. 
“Why?” Y/N exclaimed. “It’s not as if any of you even notice I’m there half of the time.”
“That’s not true,” Feyre said.
“Yes it is,” Y/N said, letting it all out. “When Tamlin gave us the money and Nesta, Elain and I lived in that house, the two of you barely ever spoke to me. After Elain and Nesta were thrown into the cauldron, no one even batted an eye once I was thrown in. None of you even cared even though I was screaming for someone to save me.”
“Of course we care, Y/N,” Nesta spoke up.
“You all have a funny way of showing it,” Y/N answered. “When everything was over I thought that I could have my sisters back, I thought that we could finally be a family after everything. But I was wrong, you all had someone who you valued over me. At first it didn;t bother me. I know that once you all had your mates, I wouldn’t be at the top of your priority list but I seemed to be right at the bottom.”
Tears fell from Y/N’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “None of you told me that Feyre could have died from childbirth.”
The Inner Circle were silent. 
“When Feyre stopped by a few days ago, I was happy. I thought that you had come to talk to me and catch up but the only thing you did was tell me about this ball where my presence wouldn’t even be missed if I hadn’t attended.”
“Y/N, we are sorry you feel this way but do you realise who you are dancing with–”
Y/N cut Rhysand off with a scoff. “I just poured my heart out to all of you and that is all you have to say. Did any of you even notice me leave earlier? I think not. Eris followed me and was the one to ask if I was okay. He was the one who actually listened and took notice of me.”
“Y/N, we can talk about this back home,” Feyre said.
“Home? Velaris has never been my home,” Y/N said. “All of you made sure of that when you forgot I existed.”
“We didn’t forget about you, Y/N,” Elain piped up. “We love you.”
Y/N shook her head and hardly wiped the tears away. “If you loved me, you would act like it. You would check in on me from time to time. You would invite me to your family dinners that I never get an invite to. You would act like my sisters and not strangers. None of you were there when I needed you most.”
A tear slipped down Feyre’s cheek as she looked at her sister. “I am so sorry, Y/N. Please forgive us. Come home, we can make this right.”
Y/N shook her head. “I am staying here.”
Everyone looked surprised, even Eris, whose arm hadn’t left Y/N’s waist. 
“You are not staying here, Y/N,” Rhysand said. “As your High Lord–”
“You are going to command me to come back with you?” Y/N said. “Really, Rhysand, after all of that?”
“If I may interject,” Eris spoke up as Rhysand shot him daggers. “If Y/N does not want to return to you, I will have a room set up for her here and she will be looked after until she wishes to return.”
“She is not staying–”
“I am!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am staying here because Eris has been the only one to not make me feel invisible and useless.”
“Y/N, please,” Feyre said, her final attempt to try and convince Y/N.
Y/N shook her head. “I would prefer to stay here, at least until I am ready to see you all again.”
“How long will that be?” Elain asked. 
“I don’t know,” Y/N responded and Eris gently squeezed her waist in reassurance. 
Feyre nodded. “If that is what you wish, Y/N.”
“It is,” Y/N said. “Now please, leave me alone.”
Y/N turned on her heel and walked down the hallway until she was out of sight. 
Once she was around the corner, Y/N finally let out a sob, the weight was gone from her chest but at a cost. Her sisters probably hated her now. But she couldn’t stay in the Night Court, she didn’t belong there. It wasn’t her home and would never be her home. 
“Are you okay?” Eris asked, appearing behind her. 
Y/N tried to quiet her sobs but failed. 
Eris was by her side in an instant with his arms wrapped around her, chin resting on top of her head. Y/N immediately felt safe and secure in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him tightly. The bond connecting the two filled Y/N with an emotion she couldn’t place. 
“They left,” Eris muttered. “They won’t bother you anymore.”
“Is it true?” Y/N said, pulling away from him to gaze up at him, her eyes bloodshot. “Can I really stay here?”
“For as long as you like,” Eris replied, brushing her tears away. 
“And what of the bond?” Y/N asked.
“That can be your decision,” Eris said. “If you choose to accept it or not, you will have a place at the Autumn Court.”
Y/N nodded. “Thank you, I have only just met you but you have been so kind to me.”
Eris smiled. “You need not thank me for that. You deserve kindness.”
Y/N rested her hand over his heart. “As do you, Eris.”
Eris pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can show you to your room if you wish.”
“But what about the party?” Y/N questioned.
“Who cares?” Eris said. “My priority is to make sure that you are okay and looked after if you are staying here. I am not going to let my mate in just any room here, I will make sure you have the most luxurious one, right after mine, of course.”
Y/N laughed for what felt like the first time in a while. Eris smiled at the sound.
“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
Eris laced their fingers together and squeezed her hand and led her down the hallway. Y/N squeezed his hand back and happily walked alongside him. No longer would she be overlooked, not when she had Eris by her side.
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onsomenewsht · 15 days
Text
Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, you didn��t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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utterlyotterlyx · 12 days
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In This Shirt
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Azriel x Rhys!Sister!Reader
Summary - It had been a distant dream, to reunite with your mate, but you never believed you'd live long enough to experience it.
Warnings - angst, depression, trauma, swearing, fluff,
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Like it had happened yesterday, Azriel could remember the moment he had found out that you, his beautiful perfect mate, and the Princess of Velaris, had been trapped Under The Mountain.
It had been Cassian who had told him, he was the only one strong enough to battle against Azriel's fury and be able to walk away from it. His eyes had been brimming with anguish but Azriel already knew, he felt that last rush of love flow through his body like a current before it vanished, leaving him cold and broken.
Cassian didn't even need to utter the words.
Y/N is gone. So is Rhys. They've been taken Under The Mountain. Amarantha has them.
Every day that passed made his world feel heavy, and dark. Azriel had forgotten the sound of your voice one day, and it had tore his heart straight from his chest. He knew that your voice was melodic, he often likened it to that of a sirens song, pretty and serene.
The fight to get to where you were, mated, married, was long and turbulent on its own. Rhys had refused to accept it, he was furious with Azriel for it. You were his youngest sister, the light of his life, and he knew Azriel would never hurt you, he had always doted on you, he never let you do anything by yourself, but your older brother had certainly struggled with the news.
Rhys had gone as far as to ban Azriel from being near you and sent you away to reside in the Day Court for a couple of months, truly believing that the distance would make you both see that a path together was not one to be walked. In actuality, the distance had almost killed you, the land spanning between you and your mate had settled so deep within your soul that you had become very ill.
Never wanting it to go so badly, but always feeling the need to protect you, Rhys saw the error of his ways and brought Azriel to you, and watched as you cried as the colour returned to your cheeks whilst Azriel held you in his arms.
From that moment on, Rhys had been your biggest supporter, and he had cried like a baby when he saw you in your wedding dress, telling you how much your mother and sister would have loved to see you looking so perfect.
The Light of Velaris had vanished that night, you and Rhys had both sacrificed yourself to Amarantha to protect your court, your home, and it was because of that fact alone that Azriel couldn't tear at the foundations of the fortress beneath the mountain to get you out.
It was rare to get a smile out of him, or anything notable really, but Cassian had been the one to find him that evening, when the stars were hurtling across the blank canvas of the night sky, crying on his knees in your shared bedroom. One of your dresses was furled between his fingers, his shadows coiled around the velvet of the skirt, breathing you in and wishing you were there with them, "I can't remember the sound of her voice," his voice was hoarse, like it was the first time he had spoken in years, which it had been, all he emitted were huffs and grunts, but no words.
Cassian had stepped into the room, the room that had become darker since you had left, just like the rest of the family home. Just like Velaris. Shirts and dresses were strewn about the room, some on the floor, some splayed across the bed, as if Azriel had sifted through your closet to find the thing that held the strongest scent of you, of nightfall and starlight, of the faint salted oceans and warm sand.
"Az," Cassian fell to his knees. pulling his brother into his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Azriel had let his wings drop to the floor, he didn't bother holding them up anymore. "It's going to be alright. She's strong, they both are, they'll come back. She'd never leave you forever, you have a bargain to fulfil."
Azriel glanced to the bargain inking his forearm, a symphony of shadow and stars, holding one another like lovers in the night.
Then your wings came.
Your beautiful wings of midnight purple, so dark in their hue that many would think they were black, with the thick onyx membrane that Azriel always used to run his fingers along and smirk at your shivers, were gone. Packaged up with a blood red bow and dropped onto the table.
Azriel couldn't think about it. All he could do was pray to the Mother that you had at least been unconscious as they were taken from you. Part of him expected Rhys' to follow, but then the stories came, stories of Amarantha's whore and his ill-tempered sister who fought so hard that she was rid of the only things that gave her identity as punishment.
The wings were drooped at the tips, curling inward from the pain and torture from being away from their mate for so long. Comparing wingspans was something you did often, you were small compared to Azriel, your wings even smaller, but they were incredible things. Azriel could have sworn on countless occasions that he saw them hum with light whenever you were overcome with love.
The fiftieth year of your absence had crept in, and Azriel had forgotten what your lips tasted like, how the felt against his. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to bring you home, to him, where you belonged.
Until someone did.
Loud cries awoke him that night, he sat upright, the shirt you usually wore to bed nestled against his chest, the ever-faint aroma of you clinging to it like the last snow before spring. Frowning, Azriel shifted from the bed. He knew that voice, he knew that low rumbling power, and when he looked out of the window, his heart stopped.
Rhys was on his knees, bundled up into Mor's arms as he cried, but Azriel couldn't listen, he couldn't listen to the pain in his brothers voice, he couldn't stop himself from bursting from the room and running down the staircase.
His mind was blinded by hope and love and the mere possibility that you might have made it back too, "Where is my wife?"
Rhys rose to his feet, looking around the space as if he would find you not standing too far away, and frowning when he saw that you had vanished, "She was just here," Azriel could have crumbled at the words.
She was just here.
You were back. You had come back to him.
Rhys went to speak again but Azriel was already gone, he scoured the house top to bottom, checking every room and hallway, he went to the library, hoping to see you curled up in your spot like you had never left and the last fifty years had been nothing but a putrid nightmare.
Azriel's heart ached, he reached deep within him, deep into a place he couldn't bring himself to graze, and tugged.
Once. Twice.
The gates opened.
Azriel saw the golden thread pour from his chest, he saw it hum like a pulse as it stretched out and slithered around the corner, and his shadows danced outward to meet it, to wrap around the golden threat leading him to you, peering backward as if telling him to go.
Your mate, your husband, followed that thread, he followed it up the staircase and down the halls, breezing past the portraits hanging on the wall until he stood before the closed door of the bedroom. Azriel reached out a hand that was trembling and twisted the doorknob, softly pushing it open to reveal you.
Weight had dropped from you, and your posture was shrouded with fear as it hunched inward, your hugged yourself as your head surveyed the space. Then he saw the scars, the marred flesh poking from the back of the dress that hung from your body, a humiliation to everything you stood for, and his eyes landed on the rings of scarred flesh around your wrists and ankles, some still angry and red and peeling.
What had she done to you?
Shuddering, you turned around, stopping in your tracks at the male in the doorway being kissed by the moonlight pouring in from the thin slits of the curtains.
He was as beautiful as you remembered, hazel eyes that you had dreamt of nightly to allow you to hold onto some hope, the sharp jaw and cheekbones that you imagined your fingers brushing against, his lips that would often call out to you, not like you remembered the sound of his voice.
"Az?"
His breathing hitched and became shaky, you knew he was doing his best to not be overcome with emotion, not when you had every reason to cry and fall apart, "Say it again."
A soft sob broke through your lips at the sound, so low and hoarse, raw, but still teeming with warmth and beauty, of brighter tomorrows.
Say it again.
"Az."
Even in the dark he could see your face crumple and contort, and he rushed to you as you weakly reached for him, not being able to stop the sobs pulling from his chest either.
It was all there. Nightfall. Starlight. Salted oceans. Warm beaches.
Azriel cupped your face in his hands, so delicately, like he was afraid to break you, and tears fell from his eyes. It was you. Glazed orbs of plum peered up at him, your fingers reached to brush his tears away, "Is this some beautiful nightmare?"
Air rushed from his lungs, your eyes were glazed over, almost as if you were in some sort of trance, "No, my angel," his voice was a hush above a whisper, his fingers caressed your cheeks, "This is real."
"I'm home?"
Realisation hit you and your eyes became clear, "You're home."
"I thought I was lost," you placed your hands on his arms, and he watched your tattoo dance in the moonlight, a twin to his own, "I knew I'd find you."
Azriel pulled you in close, he cradled your head against his chest and held you tighter as the weight of the last fifty years crushed you, "My wings," you cried and Azriel's wings pinned themselves backward, dipping themselves from sight, "She took them. How can you love me? How can you see me as anything other than weak?"
Lifting your head to meet his, Azriel's finger trailed the line of your jaw, "You are not weak, my love. Weakness would weep at the mere thought of being associated with you, for they will never get to know what it's like to have courage in the most awful of odds. It would never get to know you, because it is not a part of you and it never will be. I love you, y/n. I have always loved you and always will. I would love you in any form, in any life, in any universe. You are mine. You are my everything. You are the strongest thing I have ever encountered and the most beautiful thing to walk the heavens."
"You would not save your entire court, your family, and your husband, and go through everything you have been through, and lost what you have lost, if you weren't the strongest creature on this planet," Azriel's lips curled downward, uneven breaths fell from his lips, "I forgot the sound of your voice."
In the worst moments of your torture, all you thought of was Azriel and this moment, the moment where it would have all been worth it just to see him healthy and alive, "I forgot yours too."
Azriel sighed, he pressed his forehead against yours and took a moment to just inhale you, to let the ocean breeze pour into his soul and bring him back to life, "Can I hold you?"
Nodding softly, you felt Azriel pull away, he peeled that dress from your body and pulled one of his jumpers over your head. He led you gently over to the bed, placing you down on the side of the mattress which had forgotten the shape of you and pulled you into him.
"I'm sorry for what this has done to you."
It hadn't escaped your eye at all, the curls of onyx under his eyes, the droop of his wings, the worry that clung to him and haunted his every step. It may have been awful Under The Mountain, but you'd never want to be the one waiting for their love to come home. It would destroy you.
Azriel didn't say anything as his fingers raked over your scalp, loosening all the tension in your mind. The scent of cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you and you nestled into that spot on his chest, reaching behind you to pull his wing over your side and smiling softly at the feeling of it. To have wings.
"I'm home," Azriel just held onto you tighter, moulding your body to the curves of his own, pressing kisses into your hairline and running his fingers through your hair.
Then your breathing fell soft, your eyes had drifted closed, and you looked peaceful, a soft smile lingered on your lips.
Azriel slept better than he ever had that night, knowing that you were back, that you had come home to him, and knowing that no matter where you walked, Azriel would always follow.
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Author's Note
I love himmmmmmmm
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uzurakis · 5 days
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REACTIONS TO YOUR FIRST KISS FOR ‘EM!
featuring: itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. yuuta okkotsu. gojo satoru.
n. back with the short drabbles for each character! i also made a geto ver. but i scrapped it cause i didn’t feel it as much as these ones. maybe i’ll make another one in a short time :)
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GOJO SATORU. his reaction was anything but conventional. instead of being taken aback or surprised, he met your embrace with a playful glint in his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"was that all you've got?" he teased, his voice a velvet whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. his fingers traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, his touch igniting a spark of desire that lingered in the air between you. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, a mixture of amusement and affection bubbling up within you. "oh, is someone asking for more, satoru?" you replied, your own tone laced with playful challenge as you leaned in closer, the space between you charged with a magnetic tension.
satoru’s smirk widened into a knowing grin, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "maybe i am," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill racing through you. "but only if you're up for it."
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ITADORI YUUJI. one second thought, he should be processing what happened just now. one second later, his body simply moved on its own to kiss you back. everything happened so fast—a liking exchanged between the two of you in a matter of seconds. the adrenaline in itadori’s veins wouldn't stop flowing until he made the decision to lean in for a kinder, softer kiss.
“you just kissed me twice already,” you giggled as he grin sheepishly, “did you realize that?”. he remarked with a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, “then you just lost the race against me.”
"lost the race, huh?" you retorted. "well, i guess i'll just have to pick up the pace then." with a lightness in your heart and a newfound determination, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips with gentle yet purposeful intent. "there," you whispered, "now it's even." itadori chuckled softly at your playful remark, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and adoration. "well, if that case," he began, his voice laced with a hint of mischief, "i suppose i'll have to make it three then.”
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YUUTA OKKOTSU. as your lips met yuuta’s in a tender, unexpected kiss, his initial reaction was one of gentle surprise. his heart fluttered with a mix of emotions, unsure of how to respond in that fleeting moment of intimacy.
his smile broke through the uncertainty, a soft, genuine expression that mirrored the warmth of your touch. "well, that was unexpected," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as a small laugh escaped his lips. you couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, the sound echoing softly in the quiet space between you. "sorry, i couldn't resist," you confessed, your cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and affection.
yuuta's laughter grew, a melodic sound that filled the air with joy and lightness. "no need to apologize," he reassured you, his gaze meeting yours with a tender warmth. "i think unexpected kisses might just be my new favorite thing." at last, as he gazed into your eyes, he realized that in that moment, he didn't need to have all the answers. all he knew was that he wanted to savor this shared intimacy, to revel in the beauty of your touch and the warmth of your presence.
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MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. no words, just a silent pause with his gaze fixed on yours. as the red colour on his face became more apparent, his pupils widened and his brows lifted. megumi's mouth was already open, but no words came out of it. he could feel his heart thumping against his chest, and the sound echoed in the silence between them. did your lips really just brush his? perhaps it was just his illusion. was that it? or was it not?
"i'm sorry if you're not comfortable with, yeah, that." after a few seconds of stillness, you hesitantly spoke out. "i should've asked—" but your words were stopped short by his exclaimed 'no!'. "i just," megumi felt like he could sink into the depths of the moment, drowning in the ocean of feelings that swirled within, "i thought you weren't into that kind of... stuff."
you too grew quiet after his words, but before you could respond, he steadily got closer and closer, until the only thing that separated the two of you was a small breath you exhaled. "can i?" he asked gently, there was a raw sense of longing, a weakness exposed for you to see, and it touched something deep inside him. the only response you offered was a nod, which is more than enough to signal his lips to touch yours for the second time. and this time, megumi just made a confession of emotions too profound to be articulated.
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@uzurakis
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gglitch1dd · 21 days
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King Katsuki x Courtesan Reader Snippet
So... I realised I forgot Katsuki's birthday and that's one of the only days I write something for him. But to be fair... I don't care about Katsuki but its a yearly tradition so I guess I gotta do something for the blond pomeranian.
SO yall remember the Breedingtober thing where Katsuki was supposed to have a one-shot where it was king Katsuki x Courtesan reader? Yah that.
I'll work on finishing that as my atonement to all the Bakugou stans.
Here's a snippet for yall. Hopefully its done by the end of the week.
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Katsuki walked into the building with his men. The beautiful building was filled with sweet fruity fragrances. He pushed past the hanging lace that was around the entrance way. It revealed the one thing Katsuki’s men had been begging to stop in while they rode back to the capital. It was something that Katsuki wanted to outright deny but Eijiro had done a good job persuading him into trying to “Keep moral up”.
When Katsuki agreed, he didn’t think that would mean visiting the pleasure district.
The pleasure house had beautiful welcomers that bowed before them, motioning towards an old lady who sat in front, leading further into the elaborate building. She sat with her eyes closed, her hands on her lap as she seemed content, despite the place she was currently in. Her blue eyes opened as she looked to the warriors in front of her. “Evening, gentlemen. How can I assist you?” She asked, moving to shuffle onto her feet.
Eijiro, the highest ranking military general of his armed forces, stepped forward. He had an easy smile on his face like always. He motioned over to Katsuki. “I would like to introduce, his majesty, Emperor Bakugou Katsuki, as well as his royal first legion.” He motioned to the rest of the men that had come with the two of them. “We would like to implore your…” Eijiro hesitated as two girls, from the way they were dressed in lighter paler colours, with their hairs done up with hairpins, were clearly courtesans in training. They giggled at the sight of the officers and highest ranking noble. Eijiro looked back at the old lady with a glint in his eyes. He motioned behind him. “your institution’s services for the night.”
Coming out from behind them all was a chest filled with gold, carried in by two of the squires that were travelling with them. The lady’s grey eyebrows raised in surprise, her eyes looking down at the contents in front of her. Her eyes flicked to Eijiro who held a smirk on his face, knowing that the only currency that places like this spoke was in gold.
The old lady grinned and motioned to the room to her right. “You are more than welcomed to stay as long as you please, your majesty.” She bowed, allowing them further into the pleasure house.
Katsuki rolled his eyes as he stepped forward to the room that she had motioned to. To say that Katsuki didn’t want to be here would be an understatement. He wanted to be farthest away from here. He wanted to be on his horse being closer to the palace than further away. The battle that happened on his Eastern border was more taxing than he thought it would be. It was the last thing he needed but it was a great distraction. It kept him out of that stuffy palace and back with a sword in his hand.
It also kept him away from his wife.
“Eijiro, this better not be a waste of my gold.” Katsuki spoke as his crimson gaze moved back to his taller best friend and most trusted comrade.
The redheaded military officer chuckled as he rolled his shoulders. “Your majesty, this is supposed to be our celebration of our great victory.” He reminded the blond emperor. Were they alone, Eijiro would have called him by his first name, however with so many eyes and ears around, Eijiro chose the safer route.
Katsuki tsked as he moved towards the front. This seemed to be a greeting area, where they would receive more higher ranking guests. It would make sense from the red fully stuffed pillows, silks, laces and the incense being burned and wafted into the air. Katsuki scoffed as he motioned down to the front of the rows of pillows. Another pillow was brought, placing it on top of that one. Katsuki finally sat down unceremoniously, his hands on his knees as he stared forward with a scowl.
“Aww come on, Emperor.” Sero spoke up this time, sitting on the other side of him while Eijiro sat to the left of Katsuki. He spoke with an eased back straight smile. “You’ve been so tense ever since you got married, it’s time for you to live a little. Just like we used to before you got crowned.” He reminded the blond.
The good old days.
Something Katsuki missed more than anything. A time where he was fighting for his throne, where he had blood and dirt under his nails, a sword always resting on his hip and a tan from the hot sun that shone down on him. It was perfect to him. With nothing but his close friends around him and a burning fire reminding Katsuki of all he lost and all he would gain back again.
Now as Emperor, although Katsuki accepted and enjoyed the extravagance of his life, he missed his old one.
“Speaking of which,” Denki started to speak as he moved to sit beside Sero. “I’m sure a certain Empress Ochaco will be more than happy to see you, your majesty.” He spoke with one of those stupid smirks on his face.
Katsuki tried to bite back a groan at the thought of Ochaco. She was a good looking woman that was for sure with a good body and she did what a wife was supposed to, Hell, she was a great empress even. The only problem was…
Katsuki couldn’t seem to give more than half a fuck about her.
It wasn’t Ochaco’s fault. Not in the slightest. Katsuki just couldn’t find it within himself to see her as anything more than what she was. A woman who got sold through an agreement made by her father so that Katsuki could win the war. She never desired Katsuki nor did she ever see a need to do anything more beyond her wifely duties to him should he wish. She was a great empress when she wasn’t annoying the living daylights out of him. But she wasn’t Katsuki’s woman.
Which was probably why he felt little to nothing about the fact that he was about to entertain whores in a pleasure house tonight and return to her tomorrow.
Katsuki closed his eyes and fought back a scowl unsuccessfully. He really was tense. “Where’s that old woman!?” He asked loudly now that all of them were seated.
A low chuckle came as the old woman walked from a side corridor over to them. She moved towards the men, moving to stand at a wall. “I apologise, your majesty. I was fetching my girls.” She informed him. “Now, of course, since you have graced us with your presence, your majesty, you will be the first to choose from my highest-ranking courtesans.” She motioned to where she had come from.
Walking in from the hidden sides were a group of five women, all more beautiful, curvaceous and enticing than the last. They carefully sat down on their knees, their bosoms nearly spilling out of their dresses and their make-up perfectly complementing their complexion. Katsuki’s eyebrows eased at the sheer beauty in front of him. No wonder his men were so eager to be here. He had heard from them about how this was the best pleasure house in the entire kingdom and was hesitant to believe them, however looking at his options, he wasn’t surprised.
There was one, that did catch Katsuki’s attention more than anyone else.
You sat in the middle of them all, your eyes looking straight at Katsuki almost as if you weren’t afraid to look at death straight in the eyes. You had this stare that had something brewing inside Katsuki immediately. It made him feel like he was suffocating, like he couldn’t breathe under your scrutiny. You were by far the most beautiful out of all of them. Not by looks but just by your presence. Your eyes scanned over his front line highest ranking officers. Each one of them stiffening under your gaze, blushes blooming to their cheeks.
Your eyes finally settled back on Katsuki. You bowed your head, moving your hands in front of you as you lowered your head, bowing down towards the floor. “Your majesty, the honour is ours.” You all spoke but Katsuki only wanted to hear from you.
“Now, you can pick any of the-”
“That one.” Katsuki pointed a single finger towards you. His crimson eyes stayed honed on you. “I want that one.”
-Glitch1d
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 month
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Roll a Die, Roll a Poison - A Game
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>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader
>Word count: 1.7k
>a/n: very subtle yan themes in this one. might expand on this soon. i love a man going through trust issues and self depreciation. plus points if he's pretty
Part 2
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To say you found the sound of a die rolling to be annoying would be an understatement. No, it scratches your auditory canal as it works its way through to your eardrums, wreaking havoc on your hearing before you even register the sound. What’s worse is the voice that follows after it and the insufferable smile accompanying it.
“Care for a game?”
Asking for your participation is a charade. In the occurrence that you do decline, you are simply pestered to the point that you give in like how an older sibling acquiesces to the younger’s demands. Except you two aren’t family, not yet at least, and he is nowhere near a cute younger brother or a cute younger anything.
The fur lined coat is shrugged off, and Aventurine plops down on the other end of the sofa. You have half a mind to get up and relocate, but considering his pettiness and the very high possibility that he would simply follow you, you decide to let things be. A single die is placed onto the dark oak centre table in front of you both, and when you look at him questioningly, he simply rests his back against the sofa with a smile. The dark teal green velvet of the sofa sometimes seems like a deliberate choice to you.
He is wearing a similar colour after all. Like he almost always is.
“No bets,” Aventurine clarifies. “Just a game.”
You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to accept so readily. “What kind of game?”
When he speaks, his voice slightly reverberates through the empty apartment. It reminds you of how empty it is and how he is the only other here. “Oh, it’s just a simple game, to get to know each other better. Each of us will take turns rolling the die. If the number is 1 to 3, you have to answer a question I ask. If the number is 4 to 6, I have to answer a question you ask.”
“No constraints on the questions? I have an idea of what might be brewing in your mind, and I frankly do not like it.”
He laughs, eyes closing as he recomposes himself. “Ah, as much as I would love to enact upon that, I’m afraid I won’t. It’s just a simple game, dear. Won’t you humour me?”
You glance between him and the die innocently lying on the table, the number 2 staring back at you. His coat is hanging over the backrest and he’s wearing his usual work clothes. Something must have happened at work. Something that ticked him off, and now he’s looking for an excuse to bask in your company because he’s aware you won’t humour him without something like this.
Fine then. You’ll accept on your own accord. Maybe you might end up with an answer or two.
“Alright,” you answer. “Any other thing I should know?”
He blinks, those devastatingly beautiful yet incriminating eyes blink at you. “Alright~ The first person to score a total point of 30 wins. Their prize? The other person has to do whatever they want.”
“I thought you said there’s no bet.”
“This isn’t a bet, sweetheart. It’s a game. There are winners and losers in games.”
Something’s up. 30 isn’t a high number. The game will be over not too long after it starts and the winner gets a prize that’s too good to be true. “Are you sure?” You eye him wearily as you speak, the smile never leaving his face. “What if I win and ask for you to never see me again? Isn’t that too big of a price to pay over a silly game?”
Aventurine hums. There is either something cooking in his head or he’s overly confident that he would win. The latter you would not put against him. He has insane luck. So much so that you worry over him someday shooting himself while playing roulette with a revolver, but it hasn’t happened yet.
“Well,” he drawls, “you can ask for anything you want if you win. However, it’s imperative for you to remember that there is a way to work around everything. So then, let’s begin, shall we?”
He reaches for the die, and asks for your hand. When you extend your palm to him, he grabs it gently with one hand, the leather rubbing against your skin as his thumb rubs your wrist, and the other places the die on your hand. “Ladies first,” he chuckles. You waste no time in rolling, the sound of the die falling onto the empty table making you cringe.
When it stops, the number 3 stares back at you. What a great start.
“Oh! It’s my turn to ask. How lovely.” When you give him a sad look, he’s quick to conceal the excitement he just displayed. “Ah, I’m not sure what I should ask. Give me a second.”
You know he must have prepared at least 10 questions beforehand, so purposely dragging it out is just rude.
“I know,” Aventurine exclaims, “Tell me one thing you like about me.”
You deadpan. “That isn’t a question.”
“What’s one thing you like about me?”
Okay now this is tricky. The temptation to reply ‘your money’ is strong, but you both know it’s not true. You could care less about his riches simply because you do not let him win you over with them. There are another few answers that you could use to your advantage to potentially playfully dodge the question, but you suppose that wouldn’t be a very noble thing to do.
Thus, you break eye contact and direct your attention to the die on the table. “Your attention to detail,” you mumble out. “It’s… interesting.”
Aventurine makes a satisfied hum, and you can almost hear the upward curls of his lips in his voice. “I’ll take it. Now then…”
A gloved hand grabs the die and rolls. The number he rolls is 5, and you mentally cuss him out. “My turn again!” He asks you to face him, that sweet, buttery voice of his leaving those perfectly moisturised lips and-
“My question is… what would be the perfect date you ever went on?”
This time, you blink at him. Interacting with Aventurine is usually like a game of chess. Both of you move your pieces in your respective turns, and every sentence that leaves either of your mouths counts as a move. The pieces represent the strength of either party. However, it is imperative to reiterate that you aren’t good at chess and you’re pretty sure he’s either eating or hiding your pieces when you’re not looking.
“Nothing,” you reply. “I would rather not be on a date. Ever.”
He tuts. “You were the one who asked me out the first time. Or are you forgetting?”
“I was not.”
“You asked me out for coffee, remember?”
You choke on your words for a moment. The audacity of this man! “Asking to have coffee together is not a date!”
“Is it,” he chuckles. “We were alone together, and we talked for way more than an hour. I specifically cancelled any appointments I had that day, and I even paid the bill. That’s a date. Not a simple outing.” You part your lips to speak but are cut off. “So, what’s the ideal date for you?”
“I frankly have no clue.” He raises a brow at your admittal, but makes no move to question it. “My romantic experiences aren’t exactly plentiful, but I suppose anything would do as long as it isn’t in a casino or the like.”
“Hm. Noted. Your turn.”
The accursed die is taken into your hands, yet you do not roll it immediately. It is given a harsh glare and a mental warning before flung to the table carelessly. Surprisingly, you score a 6.
Aventurine whistles at that appreciatively. “Hope you’re keeping count of your points.”
“I am. No need to worry your hat off.” A mischievous smile stretches on your lips. Retribution has come, although in a small dose, and you would be an utter fool to waste it. “Riddle me this, my personal annoying, chirping bird. Why do you torment me so?”
He feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Do not play dull. Why do you remain adamant on making my life so difficult?”
“Difficult?” Aventurine acts offended, as though he’s been told he doesn’t love you. “Why, I cherish you, my dear. Regardless, I never caged you. You simply make things difficult for yourself.”
You click your tongue. What a roundabout way of saying he sabotages things deliberately for you. “I would beg to differ.”
“Nevertheless, I cherish you. We’re in love. And before you say something like not liking me back, I’d like to remind you of all the things we did before going into this ‘arrangement’.”
You bite back instantly. The mere mention reminds you of the evening you spent sobbing locked in the bedroom’s attached bathroom. “Do not downplay your actions. You know you hurt me. Playing innocent just makes you look worse.”
“I took a gamble with your emotions as the wager. Sure, I lost a few chips, but I did win. And viola. Here you are.”
A glare full of bittersweet betrayal is directed his way, yet he simply looks tired. “Don’t look at me like that…”
You avert your gaze at that. Life has turned into a series of sought out opportunities to gain the upper hand, something he is unwilling to relinquish. It’s maddening at times, but it is your reality. Even if you wish it weren’t, you don’t hold the power to change it.
“To answer your question,” he says, voice low, “I don’t want to, but I currently don’t have any other choice.” And just like that, in the blink of an eye, he’s grinning again.
“My turn!” Aventurine grabs the die, eyeing it as it sits in his leather palm. “Your 9 points versus my 5 points. Let’s see who wins in the end.”
The sentence makes a chill run down your spine. He’s insanely good at games like this. Just what would he ask of you?
As you watch him roll a 6, you only continue to lose hope for a win. Just like the countless times before.
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a/n: he asked you for a kiss on the cheek everyday for a week straight that's it
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