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onyourhyuck · 10 months

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Dirty, Little, Traitor. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Since you won’t help me finish up, I don’t think I’ll let you finish.”

— Summary: Wherein you asked your roommate Mark to help you out with rearranging your room but ends up rearranging you instead.

— Genre: Roommate smut. Minors dni. Mention of porn and masturbation. Slight bicker back and forth. Pettiness. Edging and leaving them at the orgasm. Mark becoming frustrated and so he takes his frustration on Y/n by rearranging her stomach…. We love that. Handjob(I guess?) fingering female receiving. Nickname ‘Princess’ used. Unprotected sex. Pls use protection irl.

— Notes: This was fun to write.

Credit for Plot: @markleelately <3

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You know what really sucks? Rearranging your room. Do you know what sucks the freaking most? When you’re the only one rearranging your room. You asked your roommate multiple times to help you out but in fact they were so busy on their games or whatever they are doing. You don’t even care you asked them to stop and come into your room to help you with your furniture but instead they ignored you. They must’ve ignored you.

There’s no way they would ignore your shouting voice. You sigh one last time as you put down the mattress you’re struggling with and you shove out of your bedroom with a deadpanning expression on your face that can only scream death. You might murder your roommate today.

Knocking was now heard on the door which you hear shuffling footsteps on the carpet approaching the door. When it opens it reveals a blonde young man. He was very handsome, he had those round black eyes staring into yours and they always gave you a slight hitching moment with your stomach turning into mush.

However you cannot get distracted by how hot your roommate is. Not now anyways.

You scowl. “Mark help me out with rearranging my room. I called you like fifty times.” You swear you probably called him over more than fifty times but for dramatic effect you just tell him you counted. Mark rolls his eyes. He really didn’t want to help you out when he’s very much busy with his own things now. You tend to always interrupt him at the wrong times.

Mark looks back at you. “No.” He said and then walks back inside as the door slams in your face. You drop your jaw to the floor. “No?” You repeated with a now incoming soft laugh. You brush your hand through your hair as you laugh some more repeating his response. No? He said no to you? How dare he. You bite your bottom lip and point to his bedroom room with your finger tutting it around.

You’re going to make him regret that.

What could he be so busy with exactly? You don’t want to be rude about this. He has his own life that’s quite obvious however, you hate to think that he was very busy to the point he couldn’t help you out to do just one thing for you. One thing.

Mark doesn’t really do much around the place anyways. You tend to be the more organised one and lord forbid if Mark ever did any chores. It’s like he’s very much allergic to anything that involved cleaning the house or doing chores around the place.

You stand there taking in your roommates rejection. You should’ve told him he has no choice. He has to help you and that’s the end of the story. You sigh. But then your mind was completely taken off by the thought of him being busy — you start to hear overlapping videos through the door. You hate to admit it but you heard moans. Female moans seemingly like it’s from a technology advice. Mark was watching porn on his laptop and he’s now going to wank off?

You can’t believe it. You interrupted his relief time now. You can’t help but think you had a plan to get him on board to helping your rearrange the furniture now.

“Oh just you wait Mark Lee…” You scowl as you approach the wifi box. It would be a shame if the wifi stops working right? And every electricity in the house stops working Hm? Yeah that would’ve terrible wouldn’t it…

What a shame. You think. Mark should’ve helped you out when he had the chance and offer up because you’re definitely not someone to hit or miss with a rejection. He should’ve just said yes and helped you out with this one little thing and then he could’ve went back to doing his business. As your hands brush over to the plug connecting the wifi to the box you smirk and pull it out when you could hear Mark’s distant voice moaning.

Mark was gaining close and closer to his orgasm. To his own high that he’s been chasing for a while now and you’ve been telling him to do the furniture rearrangement he’s been trying to jerk off his own hard cock for the past thirty minutes or so . Now that he’s pretty close, he was anticipating the orgasm to wash over him. Instead he heard the video stop and his eyes widen.

Did the video just stop? Mark with his free hand checks the wifi connection and it said nothing. Then his computer started to shut down and he cursed slapping the laptop down.

He knew exactly what and who did this. Mark was extremely pissed off now. If anything he’s never been this frustrated in his entire life. He puts back on his shorts and boxers on groaning. He really hates walking around with a solid hard-erected fucking cock around the place. It’s not pleasant.

“That Dirty, Little, Traitor…” Mark frowns as he opens his bedroom door muttering his words under the breath. He was fuming anger at this point.

When he saw you standing by the wifi box he could feel his own anger boiling like he was becoming cooked alive. You really did turn it off at the wrong time when he was about to release. It wasn’t fair Mark thinks. He didn’t deserve this but you feel like you don’t deserve disrespect. Especially when you’re probably the most pettiest person to ever insult and offend.

Mark starts to speak now but you could hear the literal anger building in his tone. You don’t like the way he’s speaking to you right now, so you put your hands between your hips. “Y/n what the fuck is wrong with you exactly?” He wished he could get a proper diagnosis on why you’re being so annoying to him right now.

You smirk at him. “Since you won’t help me finish up, I don’t think I’ll let you finish.” You can tell sexual frustration when you see one and Mark is hella fidgety and now very much all riled up because you interrupted a very important session of his time. His only free time. You like that you got him so worked up. Now you’re going to make him earn it or else he won’t like what’s coming.

For once in your life you saw a man standing there with dark widen eyes gazing into yours. He seems pretty upset but now that he knows you will not put the wifi on unless he helps you with your rearranging furniture he turns around and starts going inside your room with a cold expression. He really doesn’t like this. He didn’t wanna do this but he was desperate here. He wants the wifi back on. You smirk watching him turn around and go to your room as you planned.

You follow him now and you start to grab the free edge of the mattress. Mark ends up using most of his strength to help you move the mattress into a different position. It looks like you got bored of the way your bedroom layout it was.

He’s not been inside your room before. He took a glimpse like once or twice however Mark stays out of your zone and you stay out of his zone.

Your roommate then helps you move the cupboard and the drawers in your room around until you like a position.

Mark feels like he is your slave a little. He puts the drawer to the far right and you shake your head. “A little to the left…” Mark sighs as he hears you say this. He starts to move the drawer a little left now. You tilt your head thinking if you like this position.

It feels like you’re definitely punishing him right now. Mark can’t shake it off but he’s pretty frustrated down below and what’s worse? You’re standing in front of him pretending like this was nothing and not a big deal.

You smirk. “Actually go back to the right one again…” Mark looks at you now with a proper deep gaze that pierced your soul. “Y/n I am not your freaking slave. I helped you out with the heavy stuff now let me go and put the wifi back on.” Your roommate finally snapped at you and you raise an eyebrow crossing your arms across your chest.

“Hmm… no.” You trail. Mark scoffs back at you and he approached you. If you won’t let the wifi back on then he guesses you can help him out now by shutting up. You feel him approach you and your heart skips a beat suddenly. You never seen him make his way to you so intimidatingly and when you’re pressed against your cold bedroom wall now by Mark you feel his hot breath tickle your cheek. You grew red when he looks at you like you’re a meal to be devoured because one, you never ever been this close to Mark before.

And two, you can feel Mark’s hard erected cock pressed on your leg when he has you pressed against the wall in your bedroom. “This isn’t funny Y/n. Stop torturing me.” Mark trails now gazing at you. “If you won’t put the wifi on, you’ll have to help me out now with my own big problem.” He now said darkly to you and you swore you felt your life flash between your eyes when he leans down to kiss you now. You feel your heart racing. Why was your heart racing exactly? The kiss felt too good however. You start to lose yourself in it and Mark seems pretty decent at kissing.

Actually that’s a lie he was freaking amazing. You really need to stop humbling Mark because you never thought he would be so good at this. The way his hands took every second to roam on your beautiful body. He loves every curve. He tugs on your hips pressing you even deeper against the leg he has between your thighs now and you feel the rock solid cock through the fabric of his shorts press now against your lower belly. You feel so caught off guard why was he so hard? You never realised it but you’ve been edging him without even thinking it’s this bad. Mark had a pretty needy problem down below.

He certainly had a big problem. He wasn’t lying when he said it was a big one. The kissing he did so passionately against your mouth irks goosebumps on your skin. You feel like you’re exhilarating at some point the more he kissed your lips like this, so deeply and so roughly you feel like you would explode any second. Your stomach was fluttering like an opening lotus. You feel the way your breathes we’re both so heavy now you can hear it in the silence of your rooms and you can hear Mark’s mouth exploring you so calmly.

He was so calm when he’s kissing you but he’s also so desperate at the same time. It’s like he was a lot more calmer and less frustrated but also a lot more desperate and needy just for you.

You never thought you would love kissing your roommate like this. Never in your life have you thought about making out with your roommate because he was horny. And now you’re equally horny. It’s the little things he does to you too. The way his fingers run down your lower back now and position you against the bed you positioned together. He actually did most of the work with the heavy furniture.

Mark never thought he would be here doing your furniture for you and now he’s going to do you on those furnitures all day long until he’s satisfied. And you’re going to have to deal with it all.

“On the bed, trousers off now.” Mark rasps out when pulling only an inch away from your mouth with his eyes closed. He slowly opens them and you let out a low wispy breath. You did exactly as he said, removing your trousers and he reconnects your mouths together for another kiss. He did the pleasure for you by wrapping his fingers at the bottom hem of your shirt and pulls it off letting your arms freely slip out.

He watches how you’re now eagerly kissing him back as much as possible. He can’t help it. He likes it when you’re becoming as equally into this as he was now. Mark finds it extremely attractive when you kiss him back some more and let your tongue slip in boldly which soon leaves you breathless because that was a bad move. Mark easy took you out with his own tongue wrapped around your own. He controlled you from the simplest possible angles and actions he made. You didn’t last long between the dominant war your tongues held together. Mark won it with ease but that’s okay because the pleasure your tongue received was rewarding almost.

You hate losing the most but when it came to this, maybe you don’t hate losing so much.

Carrying more your own body starts to become worshipped with kisses. Mark travels down his tongue on your neck and collarbone. You purr out your shivers and fast gasping moans when he did this. The fact that it leaves you full of goosebumps really makes you wonder if Mark figured out how your body works or if he’s just so good at pleasing the person he’s with.

Mark smirks hearing against his tongue gasp like this. Your moans were much better than the ones on the laptop video anyways. He definitely found something better to use now than his own hand. He grabs you forward and makes you lay down flat on the bed as he kissed your neck with his lips motioning forward.

He puckers at the softness of your skin and that leaves you begging for more instantly. Mark can tell you’re into this a lot more now.

It’s about to get better for you the more this continues.

When he motions down his hands at your exposed sex you found yourself admitting to the new reality that Mark has now slipped in one finger inside your walls and you feel the pressure building up so much you wail up your head and coo out your moans so softly. Mark thought you were in a different dimension for a minute with the way you react so different now.

He never thought you would look so irresistible with his single digit inside you. It’s already getting you some good extreme reactions he wonders what happens if he puts in his second finger? Mark admires how spread out on the bed you look and your loose arms weakly grab on his forearms and elbow area everytime he pumps the finger in and out of your hole.

You frown out. “Oh god Mark…please don’t stop.” You couldn’t help but lean your head back more against the bedsheets and pillows that is supporting your head. You feel them wrinkle with each movement you move your head around as you take the pleasure. Mark was now on his second digit inside you and it had you squirming to the left and to the right constantly. He enjoys watching you struggle a little.

Perhaps this will teach you a lesson not to interrupt his own private time.

He smirks and suddenly he flicks forward his wrist curling the fingers against a dense but sensitive area inside you and you hitch your moans all the way down your throat. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. That is how good it felt with Mark’s hands so deep inside you.

“You like that huh?” Mark said watching your expression that’s frowning at the pleasure. You were drowning in the feelings he gave you and your body. You nod frantically at him, so pathetically he thought but he enjoys that side to you.

He smirks. “Should I stop?” And you shake your head as you deeply gasp. “No…! No… don’t stop.” You shake your head now frantically, again, you didn’t want him to stop.

Mark trails now as he felt like you’re gaining up on your orgasm. He won’t be that nice to have your first orgasm with his own fingers. You pause as you feel Mark’s fingers leave your hole and you complain out already at the emptiness missing inside you.

He smirks and looks down at your confused expression. “Sorry princess but you’re going to have to cum on my cock instead.” He vows as he straddles his hands against your ankles just sliding you a little closer to him. He spread you pretty well and you whine. “Oh please… I was really close.” You couldn’t help it. You really wanted your orgasm right there and then.

“I don’t think you deserve to have such a quick orgasm, Y/n, not after you turned off the wifi.” He smirks cockily and you couldn’t help but think how much he has you wrapped around his fingers right now. You lean your head back some more. “I really needed your help with the rearranging though…” you tell him hoping he would understand your solution.

He found your words amusing. “Oh yeah? Well now your insides are about to be rearranged darling.” Mark laughs a little now as he positions out his harden tip against your entrance and pushed it in only a little and then takes it out again. He was teasing you with this knowing you want him inside you now.

You groan at the words. You love how they sounded. It seems like your furniture weren’t the only thing needed to be moved around. When Mark finally enters you it feels like a whole different sensation. The fingers that were deeply inside you felt a lot more different from how his harden shaft was making you feel. It felt so much thicker, better and also had you pulsing around his length so much. Mark never thought he would be addicted to the way his roommate’s walls feel like clenching around his own harden cock with every stepping thrust he does inside you. Mark moves up against your thighs rocking you forward and backwards like you’re a moving seat.

You croak out your moans into your hand which soon didn’t help because the more Mark moves his lingering shaft inside you the more your voice overlaps outside louder and louder with each syllable. Mark cannot help but feel so amazing when you feel your stomach go tighter. “Shit, shit, shit…” Mark paused when he feels himself growing even more intense by how you feel so tight now around him. You’re purposely clenching and pulling him even deeper. Now that your legs wrap round Mark’s waist. Your bodies were inseparable. “You’re making me go deeper… ah my lord…” he seethes now as he watched your outline expression.

You look complexed out by everything he’s doing to you and your body. It feels like your brain was fried and that you’re ascending into another world. Another level of pleasure. You feel so good though and it’s definitely no denying it but you’re fucked out until you’re going dumb with your roommate right now. It feels almost humiliating but at the same time you’re going dumb over Mark’s cock and it makes him feel proud that he can provide you this opportunity and moment to you.

It’s safe to say he won’t let this live down between the both of you. He will never let this moment die out.

When you tightly clench Mark only pistons himself like a motion with jabs stroking himself to go even more faster and now you feel yourself slipping out of your own body, like your soul has left now completely and abandoned your body and mind.

“Oh my…! Mark…! I-I’m so close… you’re being too quick.” You weren’t expecting your orgasm to inflict so quickly inside you right now and when he only started to move so much faster in such inhuman strokes. You feel yourself trembling and finding your eyes widen as day.

Mark didn’t stop at all even though you told him he was being too quick for you to handle your overdue orgasm. He was fucking inside you even more like the rent was due.

He only whispers to you as he kissed your jawline loving how you’re screaming his name like this. “Cum right now, this is the only time you can cum.” He told you as if it was a warning. A threat even. You can’t help but whimpering out your own voice. He had such authority over you that you started to orgasm on his own command terms.

When they orgasm infects you so badly you rest there with your eyes rolling back and Mark continues to thrust in when your orgasm was happening on top of you. It felt like you’re becoming double penetrated; by your orgasm and by his thrusts never loosing the pace. He continues to become very fast now that he was chasing his own orgasm.

Within that moment you feel your second high coming now and you feel yourself become warm again and you moan again now. Mark feels himself grunting.

“You’re about to come again aren’t you?” Mark’s voice was so deep and breathy but also very keen when he spoke to you. Mark was definitely amused by how much he’s done to you. He’s making you orgasm again, and again.

You cannot help but feel almost embarrassed but at the same time you like the fact that you were having such a good release when it was with your roommate.

You choke out an incoming sobbing moan. “Y-Yeah… oh god… I cant…! I need to come… Mark, I need to come.” You wail out your words that don’t even make sense to him anymore because Mark’s mind was a cloud now. He was getting cloudy and he didn’t pay attention on anything when he felt his cock twitch deeply inside you with that final deep thrust he has jabbed forward against your hips.

At this point Mark responds a little late to your words but he flung his head back groaning. “Oh princess I’m about to fill you up…”

The way his hands grab on your own hips too and pull them down which makes your orgasm feeling even more powerful. You came together this time and your second orgasm felt even more better than the first one you had. Now that you have milked every last bit of him inside you. You stir up every drop not leaving anything slip out except Mark flooding himself inside your own womb.

You take a minute to blink out of the pleasure at the front of your window. The bedroom only held your pants and your silence before Mark and you regain your concentration again. You try to conceal your redden skin on your cheeks because you feel quite warm, not just warm but overwhelmingly warm from your double orgasm and getting filled up with Mark’s warm liquid makes you feel even more inflated and full.

You somehow like that feeling however. Of being full of your roommates splutter.

Mark smirks a little down at you as he can see your red cheeks and he leans closer towards your body and whispers. “So… do you need anymore help rearranging your furniture?”

Maybe he can help you out some more with your furniture after all…

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Please reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out <3.

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dulcesiabits · 1 year

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lay me down to sleep, p.2.

summary: you die in their arms (ft. alhaitham, scaramouche, la signora, kokomi).

notes: 1.1k words, drabbles, angst, reader death, mentions of violence and blood

Alhaitham

In your final moments, Alhaitham can do nothing but hold you.

Your injuries are fatal. Even if a healer could get to you in time, you’re losing too much blood. There is nothing more he can do to save you.

Your breathing is shallow as Alhaitham tries to ease your pain, stroking your face in that way you so love. Your eyes are stuttering closed as you fight in vain to keep your gaze locked on him.

“I want to go on a date again,” you say lightly, as if this was an ordinary afternoon spent lazing around his flat.

“This weekend, maybe. I can take a break.”

Your laughter turns into coughs, and he rubs your back. “Break? Don’t you mean you’re going to ignore whatever assignments the sages give you?”

“They shouldn’t give tedious assignments, then.”

You sigh, your voice growing fainter. “We’ll see each other again, right?”

“We will.”

You have no more words left, and Alhaitham can do nothing but watch as the life drains out of you, as your breathing stills, as your eyes close for the final time. Then, he delicately lifts up your body in his arms.

What foolish Akademiya sage has conspired against him, deigning to steal the life of someone he loves as petty revenge? Truly, how did someone like that rise in the ranks? Did they mean to break him with this?

Death comes to every living thing, returning them to the forest. He will grieve and learn to live without you one day. That is the natural course of life.

But before then, he will rip his enemies from their seats. You were worth hundreds of those doddering fools, and they will pay the consequences of tearing your future away from you, far too soon.

Scaramouche

How dare you.

You traitorous human, with your foolish promises. What gives you the right to give him a heart and then callously rip it right back out? How could you give a puppet a taste of love and expect him to survive without you?

Blood blooms like flowers across your chest as Scaramouche rips the cloth from his shirt to press against your wounds, but it’s not enough. He knows it’s not enough, but if he doesn’t do something, then...

“You are going to survive,” he spits out, voice ragged, even as he cradles you with all the tenderness afforded to him. “I’m never going to forgive you if you die.”

“Kuni...” you say faintly, blood trailing down your chin. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he hisses.

“I love you.”

Stop. Don’t speak like that. Don’t act like this is goodbye. Don’t give up already.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says, hands shaking. Why is there so much blood? His vision blurs, damned tears trailing down his cheeks.

You raise a trembling hand, wiping away his tears with a gentle thumb. He leans into your touch, clutches your hand to him like it’s a lifeline.

Even as your eyes dim, even as your touch grows cold, he doesn’t stop. If Scaramouche keeps holding you, if he keeps fighting against your wounds, then you would be okay, wouldn’t you?

Stupid humans. So weak, so frail. He would have prayed to his mother, given up on his chance of divinity, and still, you leave him anyways. Tears fall like rain on your face, but you can no longer wipe them away.

Scaramouche should known better. The world is nothing but lies, and now it is not even worth believing in without you.

La Signora

The gods cannot take you away from her.

Not you. Never you.

You, with your blinding smile and your gentle touch. You, who melts the frost around her heart, soothes the heat of her eternal agony.

Why must she pay this price again? Are there not thousands of filthy vermin out there, who deserve this more than you?

Maybe it is her fault, for daring to keep you close. For believing she could be happy again. For forgetting, for even a second, that she is no longer an ordinary woman.

“Don’t... cry,” you say. “Rosalyne...”

Had she been crying? La Signora presses her lips against your forehead. “Who did this to you? Who?”

You shake your head. “No... it’s... it’s okay...”

“I won’t let them get away with this. Tell me.”

“No...” Your breath hitches as you try to force words out of your dying throat. “Be... be happy... Don’t...”

Be happy? Without you? Knowing that, once again, she has failed to protect someone she loves?

You fall silent for the last time. She will never know what it is that you were about to say.

La Signora kisses your face reverently, her final blessings to her guiding light. She can never fulfill your dying wishes for her. It’s far, far too late for such a thing. Her happiness dies with you.

The world will pay the price for taking you away.

Kokomi

Think, think, think.

She has to find some way to keep you alive. Thousands of pages of strategies, hundreds of books, and none of them can help her in this moment. What use is a strategist who can’t save the life of the person she loves?

“Don’t hyperventilate,” Kokomi says softly. “Deep breaths. Come on, you can do it.”

A battle rages around her: cries of agony, the clash of steel. Gorou struggling to keep the fighting away from her. But she can only focus on you, on the arrows sticking out of your back.

It’s too late. That’s what all her training whispers. You’re already gone, and she needs to return to the battle. Her healing is useless at this point.

“Kokomi,” you whisper. “Please...”

“You can make it,” she says, ignoring your pleas. Her vision pulses as she sends another fruitless burst of healing your way. “Don’t give up yet.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe. “It’s okay.”

“It will be okay. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I love you.” How could you be so cruel and say goodbye like that when she isn’t ready? Tears burn her eyes as your breathing slows, and stops. Still, she sends another burst of healing. Over, and over, and over.

Your body doesn’t react, and she clutches you close, burying her head into the crook of your neck. There is no war without loss, but it was never supposed to be you, her pearl, her love. Selfishly, she would have traded eternity for a few more minutes in your arms.

So be it.

If you had to pay the price for the Raiden Shogun’s arrogance with your life, then Kokomi would not stop until she tore down the god from her throne.

#liya writes #genshin impact #alhaitham #scaramouche #la signora #kokomi #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #scaramouche x reader #la signora x reader #kokomi x reader #i <3 making my fav characters lose their shit

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mmelionsblog · 5 months

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long. day. [Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader]

You screamed. You screamed your head OFF in the bathroom of your work. You just got done with a 12 hour shift and by the end of the day, there were so many people, so many Karen’s complaining about the food that’s gone wrong or would call you—

the night shift manager, telling you how horrible your employees were and that you needed to fire them. You argued back and forth with this one girl for ten minutes, saying your employer did nothing wrong and did what the girl asked to do. Get her order correct and serve. Your employer did as told, and the only simple thing that went wrong was that the kid forgot the damn freaking sauce. SAUCE.

You groaned, turning on the faucet to cold to splash your face. After a few seconds, your phone dinged on the marble counter. Mike had texted you and you immediately smiled at the screen in front.

Mike❤️:

Hey baby I’m coming over to pick you up

You placed your phone in your back pocket, a smile plastered on your face as you walk out and into the dining crowded area. Your eyes widen as you see your coworkers and managers struggle.

This was a rush dinner that never usually happens, so you slid carefully behind your coworkers to hide you from the people but the one said girl who gave you so much trouble had spot you, and she was talking to another manager yet again. This time, probably about you though. Your manager friend just shooed you away, giving you an apologetic smile.

Walking your way to the back, your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Mike❤️:

Baby, I’m here

You smiled, waving goodbye to your boss as you head your way up to the front. Mike was leaning on one of the walls. You were about to make your way up to him when all of a sudden, the same girl from earlier came by. “Excuse me,” she sassed. Your eyebrows tcked with annoyance, your face twitched.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re here to complain more to me I cannot help you. I’m off of work hours.” You gave her an annoyed smile look. “Uh, not for me you are.” She said. Your eyebrows raised. “Ma’am. I’ve worked for twelve hours today. Please do not push your limit.” You spoke like you had an angry tone, but in reality you were tired and just wanted to go home.

She scoffed, “excuse me? I’ll have you know I—” Mike had cut her off. “She’s. Off. Work. Hours,” you had to hold him back from going any closer to her, cause knowing karens in the business of hours, she’d probably report him and report you to your boss (which your glad your boss wouldn’t believe her anyways).

“Are you working here? No so, stop cutting me off. Your little slu—“ your eyes widened as a coworker, a minor, came over, all you did next was cover her mouth. “If you finish that sentence, I’ll have you banned from this store. Don’t you ever talk dirty here, there are kids underage. We’re here to keep them in a safe happy environment and what you’re doing is the opposite.” Her eyes widened at your movements, she pushed you off and scoffed, walking out the door and to her car.

Your boss was watching from the counter, giving you a thumbs up and a smile. “I’m so sorry about what you almost had to hear J.” You gave him a sympathetic smile. He shrugged, “sorry you have to deal with that b-word.” You chuckled at his response, “well have a nice rest of your shift. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you waved goodbye to your boss and coworkers, Mike doing the same and slowly walking behind you. He knew you were still a bit pissed off with the lady that almost insulted you in front of your coworkers.

As you opened and closed the door to Mikes car, you dropped your shoulders and the look of happiness off of your face. You looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with her baby,” his hands reached your thigh but all you wanted was no one to touch you at the moment right now. So you grabbed his hand, and placed it on his own thigh. “Long. Day. Let’s just drive home, okay?” You spoke with such softness, your face worn out with the look you gave him.

It was a quiet yet comfortable silence drive back to the house, the two of you walked side by side as Mike held your jacket for you. He opened the door, you thanked him and walked inside. Abby was drawing on the floor with the T.V turned on, one of her favorite cartoons playing. “You’re home!” She rushed over to you but was stopped by Mike, he explained in a soft whisper as she watched you walk past her and into the shared bedroom. She nodded and nodded at the directions Mike gave her, ran off into her room and closed the door.

Mike took off his shoes, walking over to the bedroom you were in. He saw you leaning on the bathroom counter with a defeated sigh. “I love my job, but god sometimes people like her make me want to quit.” You mumble, rubbing your shoulder as you tried to crack your neck. “All I know is you did an amazing job baby,” Mike came from behind you, his arms slowly but hesitantly wrapped around your waist. His head fit perfect as he placed it in between your neck and shoulder. “You did great out there,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and giving you more and more praise.

You smiled lightly as you looked at him through the mirror. “Can you help me take a shower? I’m just too tired to do anything right now.” He nodded. The two of you got undressed, you waited just a bit till the shower got warm then hopped in and Mike followed after you.

He did what was told, he washed your body, your face, and hair. “You were so amazing. You held the front up. All because of you.” Mike praised you once more, giving you a nice soft kiss to the lips. You smiled into it as you closed your eyes, “I love you.” He smiled back, kissing your cheek.

“I love you too.”

A/N:

Guys idk how to feel abt this but I’ve been so exhausted hence the one week break I took, sorry for not posting! But I hope yall like this one. If not, yall can always rq whatever you want to read!

#mike afton #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf ruin #fnaf chica #fnaf vanessa #fnaf abby #fnaf freddy #fnaf bonnie #fnaf foxy #fnaf movie #fnaf au #fnaf

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lex-hj0519 · 8 months

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My priority is to ensure your safety

I often see Sirius positioned as the irresponsible godfather who "constantly" encouraged Harry to break rules, be reckless, and get into trouble. But when you look at the bigger picture and look at all of his interactions with Harry, that's far from the real story.

The times Sirius told Harry to be careful, to not be reckless, and/or to keep his head down and stay out of trouble:

Nice try, Harry. I’m back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that’s going on at Hogwarts. Don’t use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don’t worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don’t forget what I said about your scar.

Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual.

Don’t get complacent, though, Harry. You’ve only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament’s got plenty more opportunity if they’re trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open — particularly when the person we discussed is around — and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble. Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.

“Now listen . . .” He looked particularly hard at Harry. “I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.”

Harry — what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed. Your name didn’t get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone’s trying to attack you, they’re on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn’t go amiss either. There’s nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after yourself. I’m waiting for your letter giving me your word you won’t stray out-of-bounds again.

If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, he wrote, my priority is to ensure your safety. He cannot hope to lay hands on you while you are under Dumbledore’s protection, but all the same, take no risks: Concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters.

Sirius, at least, seemed to understand how Harry was feeling; admittedly his letters were just as empty of proper news as Ron and Hermione’s, but at least they contained words of caution and consolation instead of tantalizing hints: “I know this must be frustrating for you…” “Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay…” “Be careful and don’t do anything rash…”

Arthur’s just told us what’s happened. Don’t leave the house again, whatever you do.

“Don’t lose your temper,” said Sirius abruptly. “Be polite and stick to the facts.”

versus

The times Sirius encouraged something that could be considered reckless (at least one of which was for justifiable reasons, in my opinion):

“When’s your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn’t we? I thought I could —”

[Re: the DA] “But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —” “Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!” said Sirius impatiently. “This year we know that there’s someone outside Hogwarts who’d like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!”

Sirius spent far, far more time encouraging Harry to be on the watch, stay out of trouble, and not be reckless than he spent time encouraging Harry to be reckless and break rules. Harry's safety was his priority, and it shows in all of his letters to Harry. I'm so tired of seeing him judged entirely on one interaction (when he wanted to visit Harry in Hogsmeade in OOTP) rather than on the full scope of all of his interactions with Harry.

#sirius black #good godfather sirius black

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jupitercomet · 1 year

Text

Sunflowers

summary - “Where were you?” You ask softly.

“Sunflowers,” Bradley blurts as he sets them down on the kitchen island.

“W-What?”

“Sunflowers,” he repeats, letting out a shaky breath. He’s nervous, his eyes darting between your own and the bouquet.

Bradley’s always been good at saying things he doesn’t mean, but he’s even better at saying things that he does.

warnings - age gap relationship (Bradley is 38, reader is 25), mentions of therapy, the little prince makes a return

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 2.6k

I’m officially on spring break!! so I thought I’d post the Make Up™ to celebrate. enjoy! - bugs

part one i ain’t worried ‘bout it masterlist

You wake up heavy. And you’re not used to waking up heavy. Normally you wake up light, and it takes a couple seconds for the heavy to register—for you to remember why you’re meant to feel heavy at all. But this time you’re a kind of sad that even sleep cannot forget. And so, from the moment your eyes open, you feel tired, and hollow, and heavy.

The bed is empty beside you, sheets cold and only slightly rumpled from your light tugging at the blankets. It’s unclear if Bradley spent the night next to you and the thought breaks your heart a little, but you push it down and pad out of the bedroom. Rubbing a hand against your sleepy eyes, you’re hit with another stab of betrayal when you’re met with an empty living room and kitchen.

Bradley had left.

There’s no note on the fridge, or explanatory text on your phone, and you purse your lips because you really don’t want to cry anymore. Instead, you try to ignore the bitter disappointment, deciding to shower like that will wash away all your heavy. It doesn’t, but you walk through all the steps of it anyway. It’s weird to do all of this alone at Bradley’s house—normally you wouldn’t think twice about it. Now there’s this hyper-awareness that maybe you don’t belong here anymore. Maybe you never did.

You fall into old habits when you finish drying off, reaching for one of Bradley’s shirts before you can stop yourself. You hold the old cotton in your fingers, staring at it thoughtfully. It’s baby blue, the text on it worn with age and the amount of times it’s been through the cycle of Bradley’s washing machine. A few summers before you met, Bradley joined a volleyball league with some of his buddies and each of the teams ended up getting t-shirts made. It was the kind of shirt that spent most of its time hanging in the closet, but you always gravitated towards it anyway.

You know that, right now, you shouldn’t find comfort in it, not after last night. But you do. After a beat, you throw the faded, baby blue shirt over your head.

Bradley’s still not back—part of you wonders if he’s waiting for you to get the hint that he doesn’t want you here anymore—but, despite everything he’s done, you know that’s not Bradley. You swallow down your hurt and decide that breakfast would taste better. It takes making, eating, and putting away your pitiful bowl of oatmeal for Bradley to finally return.

You hear the Bronco pull into the driveway. The sound of the front door as Bradley unlocks it. In your head, you can picture everything he’s doing. Sliding off his shoes, putting his keys in the basket by the door, turning into the open living room. Though you can see all of this so clearly, you don’t face him. Not until he’s right in front of you.

Bradley freezes when you lock eyes, as if surprised to see you in his kitchen. The air is awkward and it makes your heart constrict because you hate that you feel so uncomfortable and unsure around the man you love more than anyone. He has yet to speak, but you notice something yellow poking out from behind his back.

“Where were you?” You ask softly.

“Sunflowers,” Bradley blurts as he sets them down on the kitchen island.

“W-What?”

“Sunflowers,” he repeats, letting out a shaky breath. He’s nervous, his eyes darting between your own and the bouquet. “I, um, I took you to the San Diego Museum of Art once—to see van Gogh—and you told me you didn’t know how to feel about Starry Night because you don’t believe that beauty is worth pain. But these are, um, I mean, van Gogh painted Sunflowers in 1888 and it’s one of the paintings he’s most proud of. And, to him, it represented happiness, which is why the sunflowers are yellow. He also—”

Bradley wets his lips in thought, fiddling with the rubber band holding the bouquet together. He feels like he’s butchering the speech that’s been running through his mind since last night, but he keeps going anyway. “He also painted it during a time when he was really happy and, I think, that’s what it’s meant to be… like, his happiness. But the important thing is that people think it’s beautiful— I think it’s beautiful.”

You’re frozen in the kitchen, akin to a deer in the headlights. You still look like the aftermath of a night spent crying, but you’re bathed in the yellow sunlight filtering in through his kitchen window. And Bradley has never been good at understanding art, nor has he ever claimed to be, but even he knows that if yellow is happiness then it most certainly makes sense that you're covered in it. He takes another breath.

“What I’m trying to say is, I… I don’t want you to be my Starry Night, I want you to be my Sunflowers. And… And I want to be your Sunflowers too. I don’t even know if I’m making sense but—”

Bradley’s train of thought dissolves when you suddenly move around the kitchen island and throw your arms around his neck. Your cheek rests against his chest and you squeeze him tightly, a kind of desperation in your fingers as you hold him. Bradley doesn’t entirely know what’s going on anymore, but he doesn’t waste the opportunity to secure his hands around your waist. He breathes in the scent of your hair, refamiliarizing himself with every part of you he’d been aching for these last couple hours.

“I am so, so sorry,” Bradley whispers, his grip tightening.

Your voice comes out a mumble against his shirt. “I know.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Bradley questions softly, nudging your side gently. “You can yell at me if you want.”

Your eyes well with tears again as you look at the sunflowers. “I don’t want to yell at you, Bradley… Can you just hold me for a little?”

“I can do that, honey,” Bradley nods, beginning to rock you slowly.

It’s quiet for a moment and then in a weak voice you ask, “Did you mean it?”

“No, honey, not at all,” Bradley shakes his head against your hair. “I’m not embarrassed to be with you. I just— Sometimes I’m embarrassed you have to be with someone like me.”

He hears your breath catch, he can feel the movement of your bottom lip tucking under your teeth. “What do you mean?”

“I’m... I’m not the kind of guy smart, mature, put-together girls want, I guess. I’ve never really been in super serious relationships or things like that and especially not with girls who— who know how to be healthy communicators. I don’t think you’d feel the way you do if you were with, like, Bob or something. But… No one expects me to be in a healthy relationship. So they see you, and you’re 25, and you’re dating me—” Bradley cuts himself off, pursing his lips.

Because he doesn’t want to say it. That sometimes he is embarrassed that, no matter what you act like, people know there isn’t any possible way Bradley Bradshaw could have found someone good for him. That you can’t be all these wonderful things that Bradley knows that you are because he’s too stupid to be attracted to that, so you must be some childish disaster.

Just like Bradley.

“And— And sometimes I get upset because I feel like I need you a lot more than you need me. Like, if you left me right now, you’d be okay and and I’d… I’d probably do something stupid and self destructive,” Bradley swallows. “I know I’m not in a position to ask you for anything, but when you don’t come to me for things you’re feeling, it feels like you see me that way too. Like it’s only a matter of time before you realize how much better you can do than me.”

You look at him sternly. “Bradley, I can’t— I don’t want to do better than you. You are the healthiest, most serious boyfriend I’ve ever had, and I’ve never had someone who just knows everything I need so well. I do need you, so, so much. I guess... maybe that’s a little scary for me sometimes. But that’s not your fault and, you’re right, I need to get better at being vulnerable with you too.”

You take a breath. Bradley’s still rocking you in the kitchen, looking down at you with his big, brown eyes, and it hits you that this is your Bradley. You’ve always known he was yours and he’s always been yours, but now you know this is your Bradley who loves stronger than anything. And he gets angry, and sad, and reckless just as strongly and sometimes that’s hard. But he loves you more than anyone has ever loved you. He’s your Bradley who stays up researching the life and works of Vincent van Gogh because he’s always loved you like you’re art and he wants you to love like that too.

“Sometimes being around people your age is hard for me because it makes me feel bad about not being in the same place as you. And I want to tell you, but I don’t want to make you feel like you have to give things up for me—I know it probably wouldn’t look like that to you but that’s just what it feels like—so I just try to get over it. And, honestly, I can handle people treating me like a child— Maybe not all the time, sometimes it can be a lot. But I can. What I can’t handle is you doing that. Last night, you didn’t treat me like an equal member of our relationship and I— Bradley, I am younger than you. And that means that sometimes I’m going to act 25. I can’t take it if you use that against me. I need to know that you’ll respect me then too.” You gnaw at your lip, somewhat hesitant to meet Bradley’s eye.

“I will. I do,” Bradley promises. “But I know I need to get better at showing it. I think… I think I’m gonna start seeing someone. A professional, I mean. I don’t like who I am when I’m angry and I think part of the problem is that I want to be able to, like, express my feelings the way you do, but I can’t and it makes me frustrated. I’ll probably need you’re help sometimes, you’re way better at this stuff than me, but I want to, um, I want to be someone that can be there when you feel like this. I want to be someone you’re proud of too.”

You smile softly, “I am proud of you, Teddy.” Gently, you cup his cheek and Bradley melts into your palm.

He turns his head to kiss the inside of your hand. “I love it when you call me that.”

On the kitchen island, the bouquet of sunflowers sits—yellow and happy.

Morning blends to afternoon and the sunlight in Bradley’s kitchen gets muted by soft clouds. The two of you are entangled on Bradley’s couch, shirts and shorts tossed to the hardwood floor beneath you. Bradley insists that it’s because it’s too hot, but you both know that his A/C works just fine and that it’s not the real reason Bradley pulled you onto his bare chest as soon as you stripped to your underwear.

You let out a quiet breath, cheek smushed against Bradley’s pec as you trace patterns on his skin. Bradley’s hand is lazily stroking your back, fingertips gliding across your spine, as the other holds a worn copy of The Little Prince.

Once you learned that Bradley had never read The Little Prince, you went out and bought a copy of it from an old bookstore. While Bradley appreciated the gift, he never read much of anything that wasn’t jet manuals or mission reports, so for a while it sat as mere decoration on his coffee table. People had asked about it a couple times—Natasha pointed it out once at a backyard barbeque he was hosting—and Bradley always shrugged and said it was his favorite book. He’d never read it, but he knew it was his favorite.

Now though, he finds himself reading it, his chest vibrating under you as he reads aloud. And, though he always said it was his favorite, Bradley wasn’t sure how much he’d actually like reading a children’s book, but a small smile lights up his face when he realizes the narrator is a pilot and he thinks that when he’s done with the book he’ll watch the movie like you always wanted to. But, for now, Bradley feels your soft breaths on his bare skin and he reads.

“—His face turns from white to red as he continued:

‘If someone loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself, ‘Somewhere, my flower is there…’ But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened… And you think that is not important!—”

Bradley closes his mouth suddenly, looking down at the top of your head. His fingers no longer ghost your skin, but are more firmly pressed against it because what he really needs is to feel you. Feel the rise and fall of your breaths, your warmth. How soft, and strong, and fragile you are. Because sometimes Bradley has to remind himself. Because sometimes Bradley forgets.

“Why’d you stop reading?” You ask quietly.

“I was thinking.”

You watch as Bradley sets The Little Prince back on the coffee table. “What were you thinking about?”

“Stars and flowers,” he pauses. “And you.”

He feels your smile grow across his skin. “I was thinking about that too,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to Bradley’s chest. He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you, for several minutes until you speak suddenly. “Will you read again? I like when you do the voices.”

“‘Course I will. Just gonna look at you a little longer first.”

You cover your face with a groan. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? Lookin’ at you? Or this?” Bradley breaks out into a grin when you let out a shriek as his fingers dance along your sides. His laughter joins your own, legs entangling with yours to pin you to him as you squirm gleefully on his chest. And Bradley decides that he knows for certain what the Little Prince is talking about.

Because when he looks at you, laughing on his chest, soft and strong and fragile, Bradley knows that he can face all of his stars, as painful as they are, because, somewhere, you’re there. And that’s the kind of beautiful Bradley sees in you. The kind of beautiful that heals. The kind of beautiful that only ever shows itself because Bradley is fully and utterly happy.

Bradley has always been so sure that the two of you could work through anything. That you love each other more than you’re mad at each other. That you want to fix things more than you want them to just stop. That you matter more to each other happy than sad.

Now, as he watches you like Sunflowers, Bradley knows that it’s true.

I don’t have a taglist but feel free to follow my library @jupitercometgold if you want to be notified when I post

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster imagine #rooster imagines #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster angst #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #i ain't worried 'bout it #buggy's got a pen

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mint-yooxgi · 5 days

Text

What About Me? - San X Reader

Part of the CODN Spring Event - The Language of Flowers

Genre: Angst, Non-idol!AU, Best Friend!AU

Pairing: San X GN!Reader

Words: 1,704

Rating: E for Everyone :)

Warnings: Jealousy, alluded to the fact reader doesn't have a shirt on at times

A/n: So, I really wanted to play around with how different flowers have different meanings, and could be interpreted differently depending on the person. Hehe, As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: An innocent gesture, or something much deeper?

Yellow Rose - Jealousy

The sound of his knock echoes loudly in his ears as San stands on your front porch. A bundle of flowers rests in his hands, shifting himself from foot to foot as he waits for you to answer the door. You had asked him to come over, and as he recalls the reason why, he cannot help but let out a sigh.

“Oh, good!” You grin as soon as the front door swings open. “You’re here!”

Without wasting another moment, you tug him inside.

“Andy will be here soon, and I just can’t decide if I should wear the red shirt, or the yellow shirt!” Your voice is a little frantic as you waste no time marching right back into your room.

You didn’t even notice the flowers.

Slipping off his shoes, San follows you silently into your bedroom where he already sees you tossing clothing everywhere onto the floor. You’re rambling about this new guy you met - Andy - and San cannot help but to nod almost absentmindedly along to your words.

He’ll give it a week, and then you’re sure to come crying to him again about how yet another man has disappointed you. Another man that isn’t him.

If only you would give him a chance. Maybe then you could see just how much of a gentleman he could be to you. He already treats you like royalty, but you simply refuse to acknowledge that anything is there.

San knows he’s not the only one that sees it. All of your other friends have always commented on the chemistry the two of you share. From jokes about getting married, to teasing remarks about already being a seasoned couple, every comment seemingly goes right over your head. That, or you simply refuse to acknowledge how well you two fit together.

No. After so many years together, you refuse to acknowledge San as anything but your friend.

It drives him insane. Can’t you see how much he cares for you? Do you not realize the extents he would go to lay the whole world at your feet, if only you asked him to? Either way, San knows that he’s desperately in love with you, but you never seem to feel the same way.

Letting out another sigh, San sits forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he fiddles with the large bouquet in his hands as your voice dies out in your throat.

Finally, it seems as if he’s gotten your attention.

“Who are those for?” You blink curiously, leaning into him so that he can practically smell your intoxicating perfume over the scent of the yellow roses clutched in his hands. “Did you finally manage to score a date yourself after so long?”

San’s gaze, which had been intently focuses on the blooming flowers, shifts upwards to met your own.

“No. If I were bringing flowers for a date, they wouldn’t be yellow.” He hums, sitting up fully in his spot.

“I was gonna say,” you chuckle, moving back over to your closet to pick out another shirt. This time, it’s purple. His favourite colour. “If you’re going to get roses for someone whom you’re romantically involved, yellow is probably the worst colour you could choose.”

“Oh?” San quirks a brow at you, watching you intently.

“Yeah.” You hum casually, turning back to face him once your slip on your shirt. “Don’t you know that yellow roses signify friendship?”

This time, both his brows raise at you in mild disbelief. “Do they?”

That’s certainly not what he was going for, but if that’s how you want to interpret them, who is he to stop you. It’s probably better if you think that, anyways. The last thing he needs is to get into another argument with you over his jealousy.

“So…” you trail off, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “Who are they for?”

“Well, obviously I brought them for you.” He offers you the bouquet of roses, just as he’s always offered you his heart.

And like always, his meaning seems to go right over your head.

“Oh, Sannie!” A brilliant smile stretches out across your features as you reach out to take the flowers from his hands. “You shouldn’t have!”

Little do you see the way his whole body jolts, his breath hitching as your fingers brush lightly over his skin. The gently kiss of gratitude you place upon the skin of his cheek only serves to make the warmth in his chest blossom, spreading outwards pleasantly. All the way until it reaches the very tips of his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice as you walk out of your room and towards the kitchen.

San, of course, is eager to follow you out, his eyes drooping slightly as he purses his lips. Though, the moment you turn around, a glass vase in hand, he’s back to looking every part of the chipper male you’ve come to know.

“Can I not bring flowers to the most beautiful person I know?” The corner of his lips quirk upwards, but the grin doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“You can bring me flowers like this anytime, Sannie Boy,” You giggle, and the melodic sounds sets his heart racing inside of his chest.

Hearing such a joyful sound, and knowing that he’s the cause of it… well… to him, there is no greater feeling. Even if he’s stuck as your friend for all eternity, that is where he wants to stay. There is no place he would rather be than by your side, where he knows he’s always belonged. His only wish is that he could be more.

“I’m just glad you like them.” His reply is gentle, glancing up at you through his lashes.

San watches you as you place the bouquet in that glass vase, noting the way your fingertips gently trace over the side of the silken petals. If only he could being doing the same to you right now. He’d pull you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he whispers that you’ll never have to worry about another thing ever again. He would tell you all about his promises to protect you, to be there for you, and how he only wants to make you smile every and any chance he gets.

You are the light of his life, and he only ever wants to be the light in yours.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” He blinks, so caught up in his own thoughts for the moment, that the final touch he had brought with him nearly slips his mind.

Reaching into his pocket, San pulls out a small red ribbon. Stepping forward, he ties a simple, neat bow around the stems of the roses, smiling at you all the while.

“San.” A soft smile pulls at your features, a hand coming up to rest over your heart as you breathlessly sigh his name. “Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you like them.” He repeats his words from moments earlier, inclining his head softly.

His eyes shine with nothing but adoration for you, longing to step forward and cup your cheek in his hand. Only, he cannot. So, he’ll happily settle for the small moments, such as this, that you give him now.

You meet his gaze, that tender expression still pulling at your features. An expression of which that causes San’s heart to absolutely flutter inside of his chest.

“Oh, I more than like them, Sannie.” You pause in your movements of brushing your thumb over a petal as you smile at him. “I love them.”

You tug a single rose free from its confines in the vase, careful not to ruin the beautiful display.

“What are you doing?” San quirks a brow, watching as you step closer to him with that single rose in your hand.

A blink, and you offer it to him with a large smile stretching across your features.

“Giving my best friend a flower.” You reply cheekily. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Though your meaning might be vastly different than his, his heart still warms at the action.

He wastes no time in reaching out to gently grasp the stem you offer him, bringing the fresh bloom to his nose and inhaling its scent.

The corner of his lips twitch upwards.

Just as he goes to respond, another knock sounds at your door. The way you visibly perk up, scurrying over to answer whoever it is, makes San’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

You had just been sharing such a tender moment, too…

With one final look at the golden bouquet, San turns away. Letting out a long breath through his nose, he walks towards your font door, leaning on the wall lightly with his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze scans over this new guy - Andy - and the first thing San notices is how empty his hands are.

Not even a single flower for you.

San shakes his head. His eyes narrow pointedly at the tall male across from him, hand tightening on the single stem held in his own hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” Andy says, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. “You look beautiful.”

At the giggle you let out, San feels his heart squeeze painfully in his chest once more.

He purses his lips, listening to you chat excitedly with this new male, who, in San’s opinion, does not deserve even a second of your attention.

Andy doesn’t bring you flowers.

San does.

“Alright, I’ll be back later.” You say, reaching for your bag as you send one final look San’s way.

San can only offer you a tight smile in return, your focus almost immediately back on Andy as soon as those words are out of your mouth. He can only watch on, a crushing pain in his chest, as you exit through the front door, waving a final goodbye to him over your shoulder.

As San watches you walk away from him, yet again, in the arms of another male, that familiar jealous beast inside of him rears its ugly head.

The stem of the yellow rose finally snaps in his hand.

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impactedfates · 8 months

Note

Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking that because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of their extremely harsh training sessions the reader decides to run away especially after one particularly rough training session where the reader was injured after they accidentally talked back and that night the reader starts packing their stuff but they accidentally left behind their late mother's pendant and Blade found it the next morning. (I hope you're okay with writing this and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or good night ☺️)

A/N: Hihi!! Dw I'm okay with writing this, thanks for the request! I hope you're having a good morning/afternoon/night as well :) This is not how I personally interpreted Blade, however to fit in with this request, I tried my best to match it up based on said request. I hope this oneshot is too your liking, I tried my best to follow the prompt of your thing. Tbh I don't like what I've written much but I hope you can enjoy it anyways.

W.C: 1389

Warnings: Blade is a bad dad, small mentions of death (Readers Mom and some mara struck soldiers), small mentions of blood, angst ending (I think?), most definitely an ooc Blade honestly...,semi-proof read as always.

((Reader is a teen in this))

Blade's sword slashed through the mara struck beings. His eyes cautiously looking everywhere to ensure he wouldn’t get surprised attacked. Soon the surrounding mara struck enemies where no more. He was able to go back home and see his love.

He called out her name, expecting a reply back. But all that filled his ears was eerily silence…he didn’t walk too far away from her did he?

He paused a bit and called out again, still no response, he was quick to turn and speed walked in the direction he saw her last. Eyes slightly widening as he spotted who he was looking for on the ground, bleeding out. The mara struck soldier who was responsible, right beside them about to deal a final blow, Blade quickly moved and slashed it, it disappeared into dust. But he had no time to celebrate his victory as he quickly crouched down and lifted up his love.

All she could do was weakly turn to him.

“I managed to kill it the first time…b-but their revival state was much stronger than I first thought…how stupid am I huh?”

She spoke, her hands quickly lifted to her mouth as she coughed, blood coming out. Blade was beyond concerned.

“I’ll…I’ll get you to a healer…just hang on tight”

He had softly said, standing up slowly, trying his best to make his way to a nearby healer he could threaten to heal her or just go back to the Stellaron Hunters Base to get her treated.

“Bladie…there’s no need…I-I don’t think I’d make it anyways…”

“Don’t say that, I just have to be quick”

He answered her quickly, shaking his head before cursing under his breath about the whereabouts of Kafka.

“Bladie…me and you both know I won’t make it…so…can you make a promise to me?”

“Sweetheart, you aren’t going too…I won’t let it happen”

Blade's voice rang out once more, but he knew she was right but he just won’t accept it. He can’t.

“Promise me you’ll take care of our kid…make them have a happy life…even if it is in this awful world…even if I’m not there…make sure they’re able to protect themselves as well so they won’t suffer the same fate as me…promise me?”

“S-stop…y-you aren’t g-going too…”

“Promise me”

Blade stood still from where he was, halting his actions. He stared at her for a bit before looking away. “I promise…”

“Dad p-please can we rest…f-for just a minute”

Your voice ran out tiredly in the training room, your hands on your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. Your eyes glance up to your father, Blade. His sword was still in hand as he looked at you. Showing no emotion like always. He slowly made his way to you, out of instinct you moved back, until your back hit a wall.

“How do you think you’ll be able to protect yourself if you cannot withstand this training?”

He spoke, his eyes narrowing a bit at your form, as he folded his arms. Your breathing slowed a bit as you looked to the ground.

“T-these training sessions…are getting too hard for me…c-can’t we for once just…go out to eat or s-something” “What do you mean by that?”

You took a deep breath in, lifting your head up, eyes meeting his.

“W-we used to go out a lot w-when mom was still here”

You start, not failing to notice the way he tightened his grip on his sword by the very mention of your mother.

“M-mom…s-she would’ve liked if I was resting…I-I don’t think she’d like it if you or I were overworking ourselves with training”

“Your mothers gone”

Blade speaks, inching forward, his arms to his side as his eyes glare at you. You knew that bringing your mother up would strike a nerve in Blade, you knew how much he loved her. But you felt like this was the only way he’d listen.

“Yes, I know b-but…she would’ve wanted us to be happy, to n-not always train too-”

“She’s gone.”

Your father repeated, his grip on the sword increasing with each word that passed through your lips. You shut your mouth for a second, breathing in. Trying to calm yourself and giving your father some time to calm himself as well. Soon your father spoke up again.

“I lost your mother…I’m not losing you just because you couldn’t protect yourself”

“You’re not even there for me anyways, why do you care!?”

“Because I promised your mother!”

“Well you’re not doing a very good job at keeping that promise are you!”

It was quick, maybe you went out of line with what you said, maybe you didn’t. But the next thing you knew was Blade's sword stabbed on the wall next to your head, but also the feeling of blood trickling down your cheek. Your hand had lifted slowly to check the cut, it wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t small either.

Blades heaving breathing filled the room, his eyes looking at the floor before slowly to your face. He slowly moved back a bit upon seeing the cut on your cheek. He hadn’t meant too…he just…snapped. He only intended to stab his sword on the wall, not to hurt you in any way but he failed anyway. He quickly moved away from you and looked to the side before speaking up in a quiet voice.

“…I’m-”

“I’m going to my room”

And now here you were, packing your bags. You had already patched up your wound, but you didn’t want to stay for any longer.

You double, triple checked you had everything before waiting until the dead of night to sneak out. You didn’t know where you’d be going but…anywhere away from your so-called father right?

And despite all your checking, you seemed to have missed the gift your mother wanted to give you before she died.

Blade couldn’t sleep, he lay in bed breathing slowly thinking about what happened…he was so concentrated on fulfilling the promise to ensure you could protect yourself that he forgot he also promised to make you happy. He knew he’d have a long way to go if he wanted to do that but…he’ll start.

The next morning comes along, and although Blade didn’t get as much sleep as he probably should’ve. He was thinking of ways to try and get your forgiveness.

Slowly he got off his bed and made his way to your room, he’ll check on you first. Hopefully you’ll be okay with listening to him.

He knocked once, twice, three times on the door. No response, the only thing was silence. He tried again.

And again.

And…again…

Each round of knocking grew louder and desperate as time went on. The same aching feeling he had in his heart when he realised his old love wasn’t responding…now it was his kid that wasn’t.

But they were just mad at him right?...That’s gotta be it.

“...I’m coming in”

He spoke, slowly opening the door to an empty room, he opened the door wider and looked around. Where were you? You’re hiding right? You gotta be hiding. He looked around.

“...[Name]...come out…this isn’t funny”

He spoke, looking around the room, hoping you’d jump out at him.

“If this is payback for what…happened…then I deserve it, but please come out”

He tried again. His eyes looked everywhere in the room, until it caught on something shining in the sunlight. He walked over, it was your mothers late pendant. His hand slowly reached for it, his thumb slowly running over the gem in the middle. He paused for a bit before clutching onto it. Making his way out of the room in silence.

Perhaps he was dumb to think you’d stick around after what happened and how he treated you. How he’d only really converse or hang out with you if it was training.

But he had hoped he would be able to fix it before you grew resentful of him…perhaps he was dumb on that part too. Somehow seeing the pendant in the empty room made him realise that not only did he lose his love, but also you. It made him finally accept that you ran away from home...from him.

And not only that, he couldn’t fulfil a part of the promise he made.

To make you have a happy life.

My friend who I asked to read through it said it was giving Endeavour vibes and I have no idea how to feel about that...maybe that's part of the reason why I don't like this fic...

#HSR #Honkai star rail #honkai starrail #HSR x you #HSR x reader #Honkai star rail x you #Honkai star rail x reader #Honkai starrail x you #honkai starrail x reader #HSR Blade #HSR Blade x reader #HSR Blade x you #platonic #platonic hsr #platonic blade x reader #platonic blade x you

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wanderersbell · 1 year

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If requests are still open, how about jealous wanderer? over something not that serious, and it gets him teased by the reader 🤔 or something like that. honestly though I would love anything youd make, you're amazing at writing soft fluff of him, so please take it less as a request and more an idea (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

when he gets jealous

wanderer x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: none

word count: 1335

a/n: I HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS ONE he is so gjnsghjsk he deserves to be spoiled ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) tysm for the request, enjoy!

hoooo boy, this guy will get jealous over literally anything sometimes.

he can’t help it, he feels insecure when your attention is on someone else. the voice in the back of his mind immediately starts telling him that you’ll forget about him in favor of whoever you’re interacting with now.

the rational part of him knows it’s not true. he knows you shouldn’t be put in a position where you can’t even talk to other people without him getting upset, that it isn’t fair to you, so he doesn’t his best to keep it to himself.

he knows he’s unreasonable about it most of the time and keeps his mouth shut and just huffs for a bit until you come back to him, but you can always tell he’s jealous anyways.

will sometimes even get jealous over animals or inanimate objects. he has hidden things from you on multiple occasions just because you would become so distracted by it that you wouldn’t hear what he said and it bothered him.

poor baby wants attention so bad, but cannot for the life of him ask for it normally. pls help him.

“awwww,” you coo quietly from where you’re crouched in the grass a few feet away. a small orange cat lays at your feet, rolling around happily and eating up the belly scratches you’re giving it. if the cat could smile he’s sure it would be, if the blissful squint of its eyes wasn’t telling enough.

this cat comes around quite often - it’s a stray from somewhere in sumeru city, but ventures off to vimara village on occasion and waits at the docks for the locals to give it fish. it’s spoiled and mischievous and often greets the two of you by swatting at the tassels on the wanderer’s hat, knocking them around like toys and nearly tugging it off in the process.

you are undeniably fond of this despicable creature and always stop to shower it with pets and talk to it like it’s a human baby. the cat doesn’t understand a word coming out of your mouth, but soaks it up your attention nonetheless.

the wanderer watches with a growing frown as you pick the orange tabby up from the ground and into your arms, adjusting it so that it won’t slip before burying your face into its fur and rocking back and forth slowly. the cat is absolutely loving all of this, purring at a clearly audible volume and letting itself be held tightly by you.

he clicks his tongue and turns away from you at the sight, refusing to watch the ridiculous show. he’s standing right here, yet he may as well not even exist with how absorbed you are with the pathetic creature in your arms. what can that animal possibly give you in return that makes any of this worth your time?

he can hear the way you’re leaving small kisses all over its head and grits his teeth against the pit swirling in his stomach. how ridiculous.

when you eventually put the cat down and move to stand in front of him, he refuses to meet your eye, pretending to be fixated on the kids that are chasing each other through the village nearby.

“you ready to go?” you ask him casually while adjusting the bag of supplies on your back. “we should get back before it gets dark.”

“sure.” the wanderer responds dryly, already walking forward so that you have to skip to catch up with him.

you don’t say anything about his pouting until you’re a good distance away from the village, and he presses his lips together tightly the second you turn your body towards him and tilt your head forward to get a better look at his face while you walk.

“please don’t tell me you’re jealous of that cat.” you get straight to the point and the wanderer almost trips over his own feet as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“of course i’m not,” he snaps, arms crossed over his chest. “what do i have to be jealous about?” he can see the teasing smile you give him out of the corner of his eyes and it only makes him frown harder.

“whatever you say,” you clearly don’t believe him and your tone makes it very obvious that this won’t be the end of your teasing, but you leave him alone the rest of the walk back to your place. the sun hangs high as the afternoon approaches, partially hidden by the clouds passing underneath and warms and cools his skin every time the light shines through just to be covered up again.

when you swing open the door step inside, the wanderer makes a beeline goes to sit down at the small table in the kitchen while you drop your bag on the counter and start sorting through the things you returned with. you hum quietly to yourself as you do, and after watching you for a few minutes, his eyes slip shut in the comfortable silence as he rests his cheek against his hand.

the sound of your footsteps approaching is the only warning he gets before the next thing he knows, he feels your warm hands cradle his face while you pull his head into your chest and wrap your arms around his shoulders so that he can’t move. he tenses up immediately, his eyes flying open and his hands bracing against the edge of the table like he’s about to pull away and get to his feet, but he stays put.

he could easily detangle himself from your embrace, but he remains frozen to the spot even as alarms start blaring in his head.

“is this okay?” you ask softly from above him. he can hear the way your voice resonates through your chest and unconsciously relaxes a bit in your arms, your heartbeat a comforting rhythm against his ear.

not trusting his voice, he nods and your fingers start slowly combing through his bangs. you start to pull away after a few moments and he begins to panic, almost grabs onto your shirt to keep you in place, but pauses when you crouch down so that your face is level with his. he isn’t expecting the soft press if your lips against his forehead and feels blood rush to his face at the action, half of him internally begging you to do it again while the other half urges him to flinch away.

you move down a bit to press another against his left cheek, then his right, then on the tip of his nose, and everywhere else on his face except for his lips. the peppering of kisses are so warm and gentle that all he can do is melt into the touch, hands coming up to grab your arms to hold himself steady as your lips delicately brush over his closed eyelids.

when you pull away to look at him he’s pouting again, and you can’t help but poke fun, just a bit.

“are you satisfied now?” his cheeks burn brighter at the question but he refuses to answer and frowns, instead opting to snake a hand behind your head and pull you in until your lips finally meet his.

the kiss is soft and sweet but slightly desperate at the same time, like the wanderer wants to devour you through it, like he can’t get enough. the way you card your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck sends a shiver through his body and he pulls you impossibly closer at the action, lips trembling slightly against yours.

when you pull away with one last chaste kiss and ruffle his hair affectionately before going back to the supplies on the counter, the wanderer can’t help but feel a bit proud of himself. all of this, just because he acted envious over a cat.

he’ll always find a way to get your attention one way or another.

#yaepublishinghouse #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #requests! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡#my writing

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lovewheeler · 10 months

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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐠. 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n — i am…rusty so forgive me that this is so short! but i wanted to get smth out for my shawties and bc my gil brainrot is sooooo bad .. anyway enjoy! pink lady!reader, reader is latina, fem!reader <3 for @cyansadness sorry this took like eight million years </3

summary — a look into your relationship with your favorite boy, gil rizzo.

wc — 620

“hey hey hey, did’ya really think i’d let you get out without me doin’ it for you? c’mon, get back in.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows are knit together tightly in a way you could think of as disappointed if it wasn’t for the little smirk playing at his lips.

you give him a long look, one eyebrow raised because seriously? he cannot be serious right now.

but he is, and you both stare at each other for a moment before you let out a dramatic groan and clamber back into the driver’s side of your car.

“y’know, rizzo —“ you speak as you duck back in, closing the door and clasping your hands politely in your lap, “if you had just picked me up then we wouldn’t even be havin’ this problem—“

“—that’s not my fault!” gil’s response comes out faster than you can even finish your sentence, his tone laced with offense, “i had to drop betty off today! and she was very upset she couldn’t see you, by the way, talked my ear off the entire drive about how it wasn’t fair that she ‘had to be stuck with her idiot brother and not his cool girlfriend’. personally i think it’s gotta be that time of the month or somethin’ because—“

gil cuts himself off the second he sees the glare you give him, immediately holding his hands up, “sorry, sorry! i’ll stop talking, i should definitely stop talking.”

“proud of you, you never realize it that quickly.” you grin, watching him open your car door and reaching your hand out in a very practiced gesture. the feel of his larger hand holding yours is familiar, comforting, and you can’t help but feel your face heat up at the touch. quickly you deflect, “and make sure to tell betty i’ll take her out for a manicure soon. no icky boys invited.”

gil holds his heart as if he’s been shot and the giggle it pulls from you is completely unintentional.

how annoying. you’ve been with gil for how long and he still makes you feel like a little girl writing “mrs. richie valdovinos <3” in your diary (if anyone reminds gil of this he might kill them).

gil closes the door behind you and you smile up at him, already turning so he can help you put your favorite article of clothing on — your pretty pink jacket. nancy had even added a sweet heart next to your name, as per your request (though she had to let you know she hated it).

“thank you, amor.” you grin, going onto your tip toes so you can press a soft kiss to his lips. his hands come to rest on your waist and when you pull back the bright blush on his cheeks is evident in spite of his efforts to hide it. you like him like this, vulnerable and sweet and hopelessly lovesick.

the second your lips touch again you pause, leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him, “baby, what time is it?”

“two thirty, pretty girl, why?”

“god dammit, i’ve got class — walk me there?”

gil shoots you a grin that reminds you of the day you two met and you fell in love, nodding and quickly spinning you so you two can start walking.

his hand finds its way to what seems like its forever home, the back pocket of your blue jeans, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest; it’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, but to you that’s not a bad thing.

it just means that gil rizzo will always have the annoyingly endearing ability to make you remember exactly why you fell in love in the first place.

tagging some of my rotpl babes (i’m sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged but I figured you’d like it </3): @sirenlulls @angeltails @fabiolajyx

#gil rizzo x reader #rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies #gil rotpl x reader #gil rizzo imagines #damn fr no other tags #anyway #mine.

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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Two Lines (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: G - domestic fluff Word count: 1.7k

Summary: As you settle into your new home, you have a surprise for Benedict.

Author's Note: Sometimes late at night, modern Ben shows up and hands me a one-sitting story. This is one of those. I cannot express enough gratitude to @bridgertontess who put so much thought and care into making the custom photo edit above 🫶 I hope you enjoy this little cottage moment, my dear 💙

Two lines. Eight, if you were counting all the tests together, the reason you had locked yourself upstairs for the afternoon. Each of them clear as day, opening some new chamber of your heart and flooding it with so much feeling, you had to sit on the floor and allow yourself a little cry. You had tried for so long, the process eventually becoming so demoralizing that you had stopped planning and both started to make your peace with it. You would let nature decide, and had nearly convinced yourself she simply wasn’t in your corner, until now. Right when you had stopped worrying about it, that’s when she caught you by surprise.

Your husband hadn’t even registered your absence. He was too busy painting the rooms of the ground floor. The cottage you had purchased was the definition of a fixer-upper, every wall and window and fixture needed attention. You had been daunted when he showed you what he had found, but that undeniable light in his eyes would have made you agree to move into a caravan. He was enjoying himself with all of the projects, something to pour his boundless energy into when he wasn’t working. He was taking on more than he should, in fact. You loved him, but he was tragically posh and really had no place touching the electrical box. But he would be damned before he’d allow you to hire someone. All probably something to do with male pride and being king of his proverbial castle.

With your heart pounding in your throat - it had only pounded as hard before on your wedding day - you descended the cramped staircase and walked to the dining room.

“Benedict Bridgerton, please be careful on that thing!”

The ladder he had found looked to be as old as the house itself. Some splintery relic that wobbled with every brushstroke he made. He had unearthed it from the shed and saw no point in shelling out for a new one. Now it was the only thing keeping him suspended over the double length windows as he turned the dingy walls a muted sage green.

He looked down at you with a shrug, which caused another wobble. “It’s fine.”

You moved to the ladder, ready to brace a fall. “I can’t afford to have you break your neck. Or anything else for that matter.” You suddenly realized what a challenge it would be to keep him intact over the coming months, especially as your mobility gradually became impaired.

The look on your face must have been upset enough, because he pouted and descended a few rungs, reaching a stable center of gravity. “But wouldn’t it give you just a little bit of vindication? Proof that you were right and we should have hired someone?”

That smirk. That smirk was the reason you had allowed him to try his hand at everything in the first place. His undaunted confidence. It made you admire him to the point of resentment.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you spat. “I don’t want my husband in hospital, even if it proves my point. You’re covered. Take a break.”

Glancing down at himself, he saw that his hands and forearms had practically been dipped green, and the splatters were never going to come out of his orange t-shirt or jeans. He didn’t have many tops to speak of, so he had better start using his brush more carefully. Somehow, this lauded artist who could stipple and blend the most delicate details into a portrait or landscape, looked like a five-year old with a bowl of spaghetti sauce when it came to wall paint.

“The sun is setting anyway,” you handed him a cloth. “Come watch with me.”

You could see through the west-facing window how the sky was layering orange, pink and purple. Your little spot of countryside afforded you the most breathtaking sunsets, the sellers hadn’t lied about that. It really was the perfect home for an artist and Benedict had known as soon as he saw it. All sky and wildflowers and distant sounds of birds.

He wiped his hands and swiped the bottle of wine your new neighbors, the Crabtrees, had brought over. He grabbed a glass.

“Do you want some?”

You waved him off. “No, thanks. I’m alright.”

The back garden held another relic, a stone bench that was surprisingly comfortable. That was where you watched the sunsets together, plotting all the improvements you wanted to make. Benedict sat and poured the wine, and you laid down beside him, resting your head in his lap. The hand not holding his glass trailed softly through your hair. You realized he was probably turning it green, but you didn’t mind.

He took a sip and looked down at you curiously. “Are you feeling okay?”

You furrowed your brow. “Is that some commentary on my drinking?”

He laughed. “No…I mean, well, you do always join me, but…” His voice grew soft. “I just want to check.”

There he went, intuiting everything. Your pulse jumped wondering if you had already been too transparent. If he could see right through you, as usual, and knew what you were about to tell him. But you checked yourself. Of course he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to keep calm with the news. You smiled, snuggling into him. “I’m feeling fine. Very good, in fact.”

He smiled back, lopsided and devastating. “Good.”

You both looked skyward, watching the orange slip out of sight, then the pink fade to indigo, and the purple to navy. It was autumn and the last of the birdsong was accompanied by gusts of wind, blowing about the falling leaves and grey brush in the flowerbeds stretching before you. The garden had been the lowest priority as you focused on making the cottage comfortable, especially as winter approached. But now there was a new deadline to prepare for, more to take into consideration on what you tackled and how.

Benedict finished his glass and kept one hand combing through your hair, bringing the other to rest on your ribs.

“We need to clear out these beds.” You gestured to the abandoned mess of long-dead foliage in front of you.

“I know,” he nodded. “It’s on the list.”

“If we do it now and plant some bulbs, they should bloom in the spring just in time.” You wrapped your hands around his forearm, sliding it lower, his massive grasp spreading out across your abdomen.

“In time for what? Do you want some grand housewarming once all the projects are done? I’m not sure my family will fit in this place.” He snorted.

You held your breath, feeling the warmth of his fingers pressing softly onto your body, a cosmic point of connection where the three of you intersected. Your momentary little secret.

You couldn’t help but quip. “Your family fits in here just fine.”

If he noticed your goofy grin, he didn’t comment on it. You turned your head and nuzzled into his stomach, that knee-weakening sandalwood scent still evident under the paint fumes. This man, he gave you so much by simply existing. Now you had something to give back that finally felt like an adequate reciprocation. You were ready.

“I want the flowers as a backdrop for a portrait.” You said matter-of-factly.

He leaned down and ran his nose into your hairline, murmuring against your skin. “Mmm, that would be lovely. You in our garden.”

“Yes, the both of us.” You whispered, breathless with anticipation.

He kissed your forehead and chuckled deep in his chest. “If you want me in it too, I’m not exactly sure who is supposed to be doing the painting.”

Keeping one hand pressing his into your torso, you brought the other to his hair and gently pulled him to look at you. Locking into his eyes, you spoke, quiet but purposeful. “I didn’t say you’d be in it.”

He stared at you, blue-grey eyes darting back and forth at your pupils, the smile on his face fading from bemusement to confusion, a furrow forming between his brows. Then the penny dropped, and you felt the jolt run through his every muscle. With a shout he melted over you, rocking you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You didn’t know if he was forming words, he seemed to be gasping and letting out wonderful little sounds of desperate happiness. His arms bound tighter around you, trembling with nervous energy. You could feel the heat of his tears on your skin, and it was enough to break you. You cried too, clutching back with fingers curled into his dark hair.

Such euphoria, that you had planned on for so long. Had nearly written it on your calendar you felt so in command of when it would occur. Then when it had been denied and denied and denied, the least painful route was simply to give up hope. To comfort yourself with the knowledge that Benedict brought you so many other euphorias, it almost seemed selfish to demand this one too. But now it was yours, and you felt spoiled by the universe. Spoiled but oh so grateful.

Gaining some semblance of control over himself, he hovered his face above yours once more, eyes wild, breathless. “You’re…oh my god…we’re…”

You laughed through your tears. “Yes, my love.”

His hand brushed warm over your belly, reverently. You could already see in his eyes that he was going to treat you like you were made of glass for the next nine months. It would be equal parts endearing and aggravating. The house projects would be laden with a new layer of stress, everything now with a greater sense of urgency, and he would try to do it all himself.

Immediately confirming your assumption, he snapped to attention. “I’m clearing the beds tomorrow.”

You pulled his lips down to yours and hummed. “Not if I don’t let you out of ours.”

At the very least, you could delay his preparation mania for one day. You wouldn’t let him bear every burden on his own. You would build your home together, the two of you, until there were three. Then you would keep building, and see what other gifts lay in store.

With a smirk, he scooped you into his arms and rushed back into the cottage, the two of you giggling like fools.

No tagging, just goofin

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #female reader #domestic fluff #fluff #my cottage #modern au

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pinknatural · 1 year

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run away with me

1. you & me

After, they sit in the car, Dean’s chest still rising and falling with breathless laughter, the corners of Cas’ mouth still lifted in humor. Cas didn’t laugh, but it’s the most humor Dean’s seen in the angel, the lightest and most happy. He wraps his hands around the steering wheel and doesn’t start the car, just looks sideways at Cas.

Cas is looking straight ahead, now, shoulders stiffening and face drawing closed. Dean remembers, all of a sudden, what tomorrow brings, and his own humor drains away. Right. Last night on earth.

Dean starts the car.

He’s not sure where he’s going, what he’s gonna do. For a minute, they drive in silence, and Dean can’t stand it, but the idea of music seems rude somehow. He tries to think of something to say, and he keeps driving.

He makes random turns ‘till he’s away from the city, driving a line into the dark of the night. No cars, no streetlights. It looks like the road drives straight into forever.

“What if we kept driving?” Dean asks.

“What?”

“You know,” Dean says. He gestures at the road before them, swallowed up into darkness. “We don’t stop. Just you ‘n’ me. Leave Raphael in the dust.”

Cas doesn’t respond, and Dean looks away from the wheel. Cas’ face is shut, brows furrowed, little line between them.

“We cannot,” Cas says. “Lucifer has risen. We can’t run from him. Even if we did leave, he would still find us. There is no escape.”

Dean knows he’s right, but it still stings. Angels don’t feel things like that, anyway, he tells himself, pulling Baby into a rough u-turn in the middle of the empty road. He drives back into town, away from freedom and back to certain death.

2. can’t wait

Dean re-wraps Cas’ hand in the hotel. There’s only one bed, but Dean’s trying not to think about it. It’s the only thing he can think about.

He pulls the bandage too tight, and Cas hisses. Dean rubs a thumb over his wrist in apology.

It’s a queen sized bed. Neither of them are small dudes. If they laid down, side-by-side, their elbows would probably brush. If they fall asleep back-to-back, Dean will probably roll over and latch onto Cas like some kind of kid seeking out their teddy bear. The thought makes Dean sick.

He releases Cas’ hand and backs away.

“Gotta go to the bathroom,” he lies, and he flees into the other room. Splashes water on his face, runs wet fingers through his hair. Get a hold of yourself, he chides, glaring at his green eyes in the mirror. God, how pathetic is he?

He flushes the toilet and washes his hands again before he goes back out, and he finds Cas curled up on top of the covers, knees drawn toward his chest, looking small and so goddamned miserable that Dean feels his heart break in his chest. Jesus.

He crosses the room and gets on the bed. Takes off his socks and chucks them in the direction of his duffel, then half-turns toward Cas.

For a moment, he isn’t sure what to say.

“What if,” he says eventually, afraid to say it. Cas doesn’t react. Dean keeps talking. “What if we just said fuck it and ran off together. Leave all this angel shit behind. Take up a residency in Canada or something.”

Dean’s joking, obviously, but he definitely isn’t. If Cas says yes…

“Angels are still in Canada,” Cas says, voice hard. It feels kind of like a stab to the heart. Cas turns, rolling over and glaring at Dean. “And Sam isn’t in Canada.”

“True,” Dean says. He swallows and looks away. “Yeah, you’re right. Stupid idea.”

Cas rolls back over. It takes a long, long time for Dean to fall asleep.

3. some regrets

“You okay?” Dean asks. Cas looks at him, startled.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean lets himself into Cas’ room, closing the door behind him. Cas is just standing in there, looking at the bed. Would it kill him to sit down, once in a while?

“Um, because your dickbag ex-boss almost killed you today?”

“He didn’t almost kill me,” Cas says. “He almost killed you.”

“And you’re cool with that?” Dean asks. Human weakness, Ishim said. God, Dean doesn’t want Cas to be tied to him like that. Doesn’t want Cas’ weakness to be a scumbag like Dean. But at the same time, if Cas has to have a weakness, and it has to be human….well, selfishly, Dean doesn’t really want it to be Sam.

“No,” Cas says. He doesn’t look at Dean. “I should go.”

“What?”

“The more I dawdle, the farther Kelly gets from my reach. I need to find her.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Yes, I just said that,” Cas says. He finally turns to look at Dean, rolling his blue eyes skyward.

And yeah, Dean’s not brain-dead. He understands that Kelly escaping is a bad thing, that they need to get a handle on this Rosemary’s Baby stuff, but--the words cosmic consequences keep echoing in Dean’s head. What if Cas leaves and never comes back? And Dean would never know if Cas finally wised up and bailed on the tangled, fucked-up Winchester mess, or if he died. And Dean can’t keep an eye on him if he’s always galavanting off who-fucking-knows-where.

“Don’t,” Dean says, mouth moving without permission.

“Don’t what?” Cas asks, narrowing his eyes.

Don’t go, Dean almost says. “I’m tired, man,” he says instead. “All of this bullshit is so tiring. What if instead of going after Kelly and Satan Jr, we just went and laid on a beach somewhere, huh? Just let someone else handle it. I hear Hawaii is nice this time of year.”

Cas’ whole face shifts, softens. He steps closer to Dean and lifts up his hand, cupping Dean’s cheek. Dean doesn’t lean into it, no matter what anyone says later.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas says. His voice is feather-soft and warm, no longer annoyed. Dean isn’t sure what he said to make Cas’ voice go like that, but it’d be nice if he did so he could do it again, and again, and drape himself in that soft Oh Dean forever. “I would like nothing more.”

“Let’s go, then,” Dean says. “You and me.”

Cas smiles, soft. “You’re afraid of airplanes,” he says kindly, and now that softness has turned sad, too, and Dean kind of wants to cry.

“I can handle it,” he says, pleads. Come on, Cas.

“I know,” Cas says. He smiles again, and lifts his hand from Dean’s cheek. That was a mistake, Dean thinks, ‘cause that hand was the only thing keeping Dean together. Human weakness, cosmic consequences.

Cas leaves the room. By the time Dean recovers enough to follow him out, Cas is gone, and that angel-sized hole he always leaves in the bunker seems even bigger than the Chrysler Building.

4. trap

Dean and Cas are sitting nearly on top of each other, tucked on the staircase in the map room that leads out to the front door. Somewhere in the Bunker, Sam is pretending that he’s not upset Eileen left, and Dean’s just so fucking glad to have Cas back he can hardly breathe. Cas is here and in the Bunker and they aren’t mad at each other anymore, even if Chuck is still at large and everything is shitty but it’s fine ‘cause Cas is here. And he said he heard Dean and he’s still here, so he knows what Dean prayed, in his head because he was too scared to say it out loud, and he hasn’t run away and isn’t that what Dean wanted most?

“I’m not sure what we’re going to do about Chuck now,” Cas says. Dean is so glad to hear his voice that he almost forgets to focus on what Cas is saying.

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean says. Cas turns to meet his eye. Cas is a step lower than Dean, his back pressed against Dean’s leg. He’s not really sure why they’re even on the stairs, except that Cas sat there and Dean sat with him.

“We usually do,” Cas says, smiling. Dean wants to beam like a giddy kid on Christmas. “Although sometimes we mess up worse than before.”

“Nah, we’ve got this,” Dean says. “Team Free Will. And if we don’t, well, Purgatory’s a nice vacay spot, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man, you and me can take monsterland easy,” Dean says. “Third time’s a charm, maybe if we go back we can make a nice house there.”

“I thought I understood you, but you love to prove me wrong,” Cas says. Dean shrugs.

“I’m just saying,” he says. He doesn’t say that Purgatory seems kind of romantic, now. Isn’t that the first place they hugged? “If the thing with Chuck goes sideways, we can make like Dante and move in.”

Cas rolls his eyes, but in the fond way that’s like why do I like this guy, again? “Yes, I suppose if everything goes horribly wrong we can move to Purgatory together.”

“Cool, we’ll call that Plan Z,” Dean says. Cas pats his boot in a sort of condescending way, and says “Sure, Dean,” but Dean’s too busy riding high on Cas’ agreement to get offended.

5. carry on

After it all, Dean clutches onto Cas’ goo-soaked trenchcoat and gasps into his mouth; presses kisses along his jaw and refuses to let go. Cas’ arms around Dean’s back do not unlock, and he presses them close, closer, as if trying to meld them into one.

“I love you, I love you,” Dean cries.

“I love you so much,” Cas says. “More than words can ever say.”

“Don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Stay with me.”

“Forever.”

“Run away with me.”

“What?” Cas’ eyes are blue, blue. Dean’s fingers won’t uncurl from where they’re digging into Cas’ trenchcoat.

“You and me, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Come on, baby. Let’s get outta here.”

Here is the Bunker, here is Cas’ stained trenchcoat, here is surrounded by painful memories. But somewhere else--somewhere else, anywhere else…

“Alright,” Cas says. Finally out of excuses. “Let’s go.”

He doesn’t ask questions. Dean doesn’t have answers. Their fingers stay locked together on the bench between them, and they drive, and drive, and drive away.

#writingtag #howdy #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #deancas #wrote this a while ago but im posting it no w. whatever

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brittle-doughie · 1 year

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Downstream: Part 1 (Affogato Cookie)

Here it is lads. I actually had a bunch of ideas from my own and from asks that I’ve wanted to implement, but didn’t want to keep you folks waiting, so I’ll split it into two parts. Thanks a lot for 570+ followers, lads. That’s a lot of peeps following me!

WHAM!

A cookie had struck a bandit in the back with their staff, causing them to yell out in pain before they tumbled into the snow, too battered to get up and fight again, joining the other members of the gang who had also been laying in the snow, too exhausted and hurt to get up either. The cookie with the staff chuckled to themself as they adjusted the scarf covering their face.

Hehe, I should’ve expected cookies who go after defenseless villagers to barely put up a fight, I barely worked up a sweat! Even the sparring matches back at the kingdom offered more of a challenge than this! Anyways, that will teach you to pick on innocent cookies again, just remember me the next time you do.

A bandit rose weakly from the snow behind the cookie, a blade clutched in their hand. Angry at your prideful boasting, they quietly moved in, readying their weapon. Once close enough, they made a sprint towards you, ready to jab you through the chest.

But then…the bandit stopped and began to cough harshly. The air around them now decorated with a purple tint as they fell to their knees.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.”

A smooth voice called out as the bandit fell into the snow and into unconsciousness. The cookie with the staff turning around to see the knocked out bandit and the cookie responsible for it.

Affogato Cookie, having my back like always.

“You’d think I’d let anyone lay a hand on my savior?”

Just make sure you aren’t actually crumbling the guy, will you?

“At your command.”

Affogato lifted the poisonous curse from the now shivering bandit, who takes the opportunity to flee along with their brethren who had also quickly gotten up and ran in terror.

And don’t come back now, you hear me! Or I’m going to have to go all serious on you! Hehe.

“Is it wise to let them run? I wouldn’t want them to start more trouble for you, Y/N Cookie.”

If I don’t get to them first, it would be the Dark Cacao Kingdom that does.

Affogato and Y/N Cookie chuckle with each other, but that did leave Affogato with a question.

Now that…Dark Cacao Cookie retook the throne…did he plan on tracking down Y/N Cookie?

If so….how long would it be until Affogato would have to tell Y/N Cookie on what really happened back there?

That he was indirectly responsible for Y/N’s banishment?

That he was the one to betray Dark Cacao Cookie and claim the throne?

Affogato knew Y/N Cookie still held a level of respect for Dark Cacao Cookie, what would you say if you found out about this?

Would Y/N hate him? Would they throw him out into the snow to freeze? Would they personally crumble him for his crimes against the kingdom?

Would you still like him despite all of that?

A voice interrupted his thoughts, it was one of the villagers approaching the duo.

“Our village would like to thank you both for your help, those bandits would’ve certainly stolen all of what we had if it hadn't been for you two. For that, we thank you, Cookie of the Ridge, and your loyal companion, Affogato Cookie.”

Of course, it’s your duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You couldn’t stand by and allow miscreants to go about as they please and take from innocents. Too many tribes and their villages have fallen, you didn’t want to see another to suffer the same fates.

“Y-yes, it’s a pleasure to help those in need. If there’s no more problems, we must get going.”

“No no, we insist on rewarding you kind cookies. Care to join us for a feast? It would be an honor to host two brave warriors that helped save our village.”

Oh come on, Affogato. One feast shouldn’t hurt, besides fighting those bandits did work up your appetite.

“Please, right this way, honorable cookies.”

Affogato could only sigh in acceptance as he followed after Y/N Cookie.

Crumbs, those thoughts in his head before made him paranoid now. The last thing he wanted were Cacao warriors stumbling across this village and finding them there.

Now that Dark Cacao Cookie was back on the throne, it won’t be long before he sends out patrols to nearby villages and knowing your reputation, he’ll snap at any chance of finding you.

Especially one loathsome cookie in particular, the obsessive pest of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Caramel Arrow Cookie.

She’d never let go once she’s gotten to you, Affogato will not allow this and the Kingdom to get in the way between Y/N Cookie and himself.

—————————————————————————————————————

The sounds of the throne doors open as Caramel Arrow Cookie hurried in, looking upon Dark Cacao Cookie sitting on his throne another status report at the ready. She saluted him.

“First Watcher, report.”

“With the improving conditions on the Wall, we’re able to send out Watchers to the nearby villages for support. Try as they might, but the roving bandit groups are no match for the might of the Dark Cacao warriors!”

“Good. Has there…been any leads on the search?”

“Yes, my King! The villagers have mentioned the Cookie of the Ridge coming to their aid in the past, which means Y/N Cookie is still out there somewhere! Not only that, we’ve collected hidden traps located in the woods, we can only hope this will lead us right to them.”

“Continue this lead. Do not let up, this may be our only chance of finding them!”

“At once, my King! When I return, it’s going to be me and Y/N Cookie coming through the gates, I promise!”

Caramel Arrow Cookie hurried out the doors and through the gates as she ventured into the snowy wilderness.

Dark Cacao sighed as he gazed down to the floor, pondering. He remembered the time when you first joined the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Y/N Cookie was a lonesome wanderer who had a semblance of skill in combat. His Watchers would vouch for their combat ability when they witnessed them help fend off a horde of licorice monsters.

He saw their potential and took them back to the kingdom. There were bumps in the road like Y/N’s lighthearted and kind nature contrasting his more serious one, but even he started to appreciate those flaws now. He knew a cookie that definitely grew attached to your demeanor and that was the First Watcher!

Ever since the first training session with bows, you two had been attached to each other ever since. When those two weren’t separated by their duties, Y/N and Caramel would often be seen together, talking about tactics and weapons.

Dark Cacao chuckled to himself a little when he remembered how Caramel was so excited when you finally reached the title of the Eighth Watcher.

Caramel Arrow couldn’t have been happier since that day, hugging them tightly as they were honored with the title. Dark Cacao will admit that he smiled a little at the display, how close the two of them were.

It only made sense that she was extremely hurt when he banished Y/N Cookie, Caramel couldn’t focus for days on end, preferred to work alone, and would return to Y/N’s quarters instead of her own. It took a long time before she was able to return to any form of normal, even then, she still has her moments of sorrow.

So the possibility of Y/N Cookie remaining in the wilderness gave Caramel hope, she won’t stop looking until she finds them. It makes Dark Cacao think to himself.

He will admit that he was quick to banish them in the first place, as he did with Caramel as well. Y/N Cookie would never do anything to betray the kingdom, it didn’t seem like them to do that. But the poisonous words of that worm and his disciples, he shouldn’t have listened to them. He should’ve trusted his own judgment, he should’ve told Y/N Cookie to stay.

And yet, he told them to leave. He watched them go….the Watchers saw them go. He saw the devastated Caramel Arrow at the gate, she watched them go.

Not anymore.

He won’t allow these mistakes to linger any longer. And it started with getting Caramel Arrow back into the castle. Then it was getting the Wall under control. Once he was sure construction was underway, then the plan to locate Y/N Cookie was to be underway. The Watchers couldn’t be more eager to get out there and find them, helping the villages as well, with Caramel leading the way.

It was only a matter of time before they could locate them.

And when they do, they’re taking Y/N Cookie back with them. To become the Eighth Watcher again, just like before.

So the kingdom and Y/N Cookie can be together again…

#cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #fanfic #cr kingdom #affogato disciple #affogato cookie x reader #affogato cookie #caramel arrow cookie #cookie run kingdom fanfic #crk fanfic #male x reader #dark cacao crk #dark cacao cookie

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cascade05 · 8 months

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Guys Deserve Flowers Too

Saw this post and it got me thinking…

Imagine see a handful of flowers that remind you of Katsuki. Imagine what they are but I was thinking of, well, Imma just collage it cause I don’t know how familiar with flowers y’all are…

On second thought, the picture is giant so I’ll put it…. so where else, maybe…

Anyway, you see these flowers and the kinda look like explosions and the flower lady tells you they (Dahlias) are stubborn flowers and they’re tough to kill so it literally is Bakugo Katsuki/Pro Hero Dynamight and now you HAVE to get them. So you do and you get a few others you think will look good.

Carnations last a long time when they’re cut, not withering as fast as other flowers.

Lantanas are cute little bundles of petals and the orange and red ones are so purty…

Course, you want some green in the bright conglomeration of bursting colors so you go with some leather leaf fern cause they’re big and refreshing.

You leave the shop with two bags of flowers and you’re beaming about them. The excitement kinda plateaus when you get home and realize you don’t have a vase big enough. You’re shocked by that fact because Katsuki’s bough GIANT bouquets for you before. You look everywhere and cannot find a vase.

Then you see one of the decorative jar things—ya know what I mean, right? It was black clay and you never understood why people would get something like that and just eat it sit unused. It just collected dust on a shelf full of other things that collected dust so it’s existence was an annoyance to you but Mitsuki bought it as a housewarming gift so…

Anyway, you used that. It was about time it pulled its own weight anyway, even if your husband would think you’re an idiot for using a decorative like that as a vase. You would argue that vases were a type of decorative and they were meant to be used but that didn’t matter.

What matters is you and the amazing bouquet just finished. Yaaasss! It’s beautiful, no doubt, because it made with l o v e. A fact you will rub in your snooty husband’s gorgeous face if he dares to make fun of you because that’s who we are, right?! Right.

He comes come and you greet him from her spot on the couch. He kisses your head as he walks by, mumbling a greeting of his own before he hops in the shower. You continue reading or doing whatever it is you like to do.

At some point in life, he notices the giant bouquet on the kitchen island and he stops. He didn’t buy those. The man narrows his eyes in thought, mentally going through all the important dates before deciding it wasn’t an important day today. Unless something happened that he didn’t know about. The man decided to probe.

“You got flowers,” he grumbled stupidly.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed absentmindedly, not giving him anything.

“Look nice.”

“Thanks.”

You looked at his back, giggling silently to yourself before looking blankly at your book when he turned around. You could see the confused look on his face out of the corner of you eye and it took everything you had not to burst into laughter.

“You get ‘em from that shop by the bakery?”

“No. They’re from a new place that opened up—by where the farmers market is. It’s a cute little shop.”

He stares silently at you before looking back at the flowers then back at you. You could hear the frustration on his face. He would cave in eventually. Bakugo Katsuki hated admitting he didn’t know something important and if he forgot an important date then it was worse. He wouldn’t ask, but, well, he couldn’t think of a single special occasion that happened today. So, he had to ask.

“Any reason for ‘em?”

You hummed softly, kicking your foot up and down before turning a page. You weren’t really reading but, well…“For you.”

Did he really forget something? But you didn’t usually buy him flowers except on his birthday and, even then, it was always simple and never this large. “Why?” he asked.

“Cause I kinda like you, that’s why.”

He made a face and you laughed at it, getting up from the couch to cup his pouty cheeks. He gently grabbed your hips, tugging you a little close as you look up at him with a soft smile. “They reminded me of you, that’s all,” you say, smiling growing when his ears turn a soft pink.

He doesn’t understand that sort of thing—how flowers could remind you of him. You know he doesn’t, so you explain it. As you speak, your hands move and your arms end up resting on his shoulders as you fiddle with your fingers behind his head. You feel like a schoolgirl with a big fat crush when he wraps his arms around you and gently sways, his red eyes lighting up the more you talk. It embarrassing and you feel like you’re on fire, but you wouldn’t mind burning if it was for him. Not like he’d let you burn. It makes you nervous and shy but you explain it anyway because he’s worth being shy for.

You tell him how stubborn he is and how resilient. How determined and strong he is.

You tell him how his touch lingers on your mind endlessly, how you live for the way you can feel him—can see him in the world around you even when he’s not there.

He snorts softly when you tell him how beautiful he is—how pretty his eyes are—and you puff out your cheek in response, pouting at his lack of faith. You ask him if he doesn’t trust you or if he never looks in the mirror and he mumbles that he trusts you more than anyone else in the world. So you tell him again, that he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever met. That the small moments you share with him make you fell close to bursting because you love him so much and you know he loves you too.

You tell him you love how he fits against you—how you fit against him. How safe you feel in his large arms and how protected you feel just by seeing him. You tell him that, after a long day, all you need is one hug and you feel so refreshed and loved.

It mushy and soft and lovey-dovey but you tell him all that anyway. You’re too embarrassed to look at him and he must share the same sentiment cause he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting a few small kisses by your shoulder. You shyly press your face into your other shoulder, biting your bottom lip as your cheeks burn.

“Do you like them?” you whisper softly, gently fiddling with his hair.

He doesn’t respond, not for awhile. He seeks refuge in your arms—in the safety of your love and you let him. You’re more than happy to. Eventually he mumbles against you. You can’t hear him. You don’t really need to. You know what he said—what he meant. It makes you smile, makes you press his head further into you as you wrap an arm around his shoulder and hug him close. It’s the same feeling driving Katsuki to press his palm against your back and press you even further into himself. His other hand fiddles with your belt loop while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” he finally says and you snort.

“Whatever, dummy.”

“I should be buying you flowers, dumbass” he mumbles.

You know how grateful he is and you know that he treasures everything you said. You know he only said what he did because he thinks he has to work to deserve you and you know that, even if you told him no. It was you who was undeserving, he would never believe you.

He appreciates your words, you know he does, but he’s an actions kind of man and everything will always mean more to him if he sees your love. You know he sees it which is why he’s so shy all of a sudden. You’re feeling a bit coy yourself and bite your bottom lip, puffing out your cheeks as you do and you can feel the tips of your ears tingling.

“Yeah, well, guys deserve flowers too,” you breathe, “idiot.”

He snorts softly, kicking your shin lightly. “Idiot,” he parrots and you burry your smile in his hair.

It wasn’t until later in the week when Bakugo noticed the black paint on the substitute vase was running off due to the water and, well, you both had a great time trying to find that exact clay decorative in the store. It was a bonding experience, you told him. He called you an idiot but that was no surprise.

@shotorus

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mayorofthegalaxy · 1 month

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The Cat Part II

Warnings; the reader is amab, near car accident, that’s it.

“Okay, brother I know you said you won’t tell where, but will you tell what circle of pride? I won’t guess! I promise!” Charlie exclaims, you only smile noting her new record of fifteen minutes into the road trip to ask, you hum she’ll see the signs for sixth tunnel soon anyway, so why not?

“Sure, before I answer, have any of you been past the fifth circle?” You ask giving them all a glance in your review mirror before looking at the road again. “Oh! I want to go first! Please Brother?!” Charlie begs jolting keekee from Charlie’s lap to Vaggie’s, startling the grey skin girl from her resting state to pet the unnatural animal to calm down,

“I’m sure you don’t have to ask, Char.” Dad says from the very back.

“Right, hehe. Never past the sixth, like dad says.” Charlie announces showing off her ivory fangs, “That’s my girl.” He says with a grin, “How about you son?”

“Nothing past seventh, for real estate~!” You sang “You know the Rattlesnake community don’t want to live in burrows because of all the lava? I cannot *wait* to start designing!” You beam, clenching the steering wheel almost breaking it, until you feel the back of Alastor’s fingers on your cheek.

His touch doesn’t change your mood and definitely does not keep you from chuckling to yourself while driving a little faster almost to the sixth circle tunnel, “I’ve raised a real estate businessman monster.” Dad smirks chuckling to himself, you don’t feel the mildly concern stares the others give you.

“Well! I’ve only been in one through five. But I have heard wonderful things from circles six through nine.” Alastor chirps, as he knows that the higher circles are where the native beings of pride stay as his new home with you is in the fifth.

“Twisted wonderfully I’m sure! What lies past the sixth is so dangerous Satan would need more arms than he already has!“ Dad enlightens them smirking with pride that only his ring have twisted wonderland.

“Right, and which circle are we going to again?” Angel ask pushing his head between Alastor’s and your seat, looking at you with a raise brow.

“Well my curious fellow, we’re going to spend our week in the sixth ring!” Alastor answers.

“That wouldn’t have twisted whatever right?”

You shoot one arm across Angel with your hand flat on Alastor’s chest stomping on the brakes but not turning the wheel to the side, you stop in time for the red blob to bounce on top of the hood making a louder sound then it should, then landing somewhere else instead of being ran over.

“Jesus Christ Y/n! What the hell was that for?!”Angel yells fixing his footing to be back in his seat.

“Did anyone else hear that? Did we hit somebody?”Vaggie ask, taking off her seatbelt and sifting through the windows near, her hand on Charlie’s head soothing the locks.

“I hope they’re okay!” Charlie exclaim, taking off her seat belt and pick up Niffty ignoring that she was giggling to herself. Dad slithers from the back past the drinking Husk to the front, peering out the other side of windows standing next to Angel Dust he narrows his eyes.

“So, did you see where they went?”

You roll your eyes to dismiss the jibe, your fingers reach the red head’s jaw playing along the structure his flesh cooling your fingers. Alastor tilts his head to the touch his eyes not leaving Lucifer, knowing this will drag out because of Charlie’s heart he’ll need to push this along.

“Mm, I’m sure the thing is alright, even if I don’t sense it.” You try also peering at Dad.

“Oh! Did you kill it?!” Frighten Charlie skitters out the door, her locks constantly moving for the body that should be near, your orbs narrow at her sunshine locks your fangs grinding, Dad and some follow Charlie aiding in searching.

“There’s no need for that mon cher, come I’m quite intrigue at the thing out there.” His voice soothing the crashing sounds in your mind, you sigh, stepping out. You keep in stride with the taller male you cease on the sidewalk leaning against bricks of a shop, enjoying shade you hum summoning Mr. Donut the yellow noodle on your shoulder slithering to hold your neck his face meeting your fingers.

Alastor leers into an alley, smirking as he watch those sinners run and tumble away he shrugs with a slight giggle, who ever made this ruckus must be alright. He should hurry this along to sooner reach the Cabin. “Alastor, why isn’t Y/n helping? Is he tired?” Vaggie questions the casual dress demon looking at the alley dirty concrete for fresh blood.

“Do you have siblings, my dear?” His static buzzing in tone with him, grey filling the corner of his eye.

“Uh— Technically yeah, but no I don’t count it. You?” She retorts, her fingers adjusting in grip of her spear. “No. And that’s just it my dear, we won’t understand that bond..” He hums turning to the blonde demon belle and Angel searching in the distance.

You sigh breaths stuttering from your lips turning to lean heavily on your shoulder, about to tell Charlie to cut her loses, Mr. Donut hisses cradling your ear messing with the hairs around it his body tightening around your torso your digits running down the scales of his spine.

Mr. Donut slithers past your ear and under your chin wrapping fully around your shoulders leering at the thing that caught his senses, tilting his head at the red and black creature with the face of his other master he hiss loudly not sensing transformation magic. The back of your hand is put under him leading him to be in front of your eye line his slits remain unchanging, you follow his glaring turning to face this creature animal that is just as adorable as your lover, your eyes not leaving it’s unblinking ones.

“Holy shit this thing made an imprint! And it looks like red lanky creep!” Angel Dust calls, since nobody else is looking around the car, some others around Charlie returns the stare. Charlie is the first to reach the hood gasping at the sight that the creature even have Alastor’s monocle, Lucifer joins in Angel’s laughter leaning onto Charlie Vaggie doesn’t see the humor in this and only rise her brow shaking her head at thoughts coming in her mind.

Alastor appears beside Angel Dust humming at the damage he’ll fix the damage after you calm down and have a laugh, you appear in front of him facing every one holding his red look alike that’s a cat? Perhaps hybrid, by the scruff of its neck leering at it eye level to your slit irises, Alastor tilts his head his ears following suit.

“Holy shit! That's adorable!”

“Nope.”

“Holy Smokes, that’s an ugly cat.”

“No way that’s a cat, what the fuck is it?”

“What a big smile, it’s even foaming at the mouth.”

“A small sir to be friends!”

“We’ve found it, In the car we’re leaving.” You sigh out handing the unsettling creature to Charlie her hands around it gingerly they settle well in her arms, but it does stare at dad even as they all go inside the car hopefully for the last time today.

“Aww, I’ll name you Caster.” Charlie coos, her fingers playing with its paws, Husk being in the car the whole time raise his brow to the second smaller Alastor at Angel when he returns to his seat in exchange the spider shrugs shaking his head.

You nod at the name enjoying it you smile as you open the door for Alastor noticing the lack of face on your car. With him and you finally inside, it does not take you long to start the car and finishing the journey to your family Cabin.

->Time skip<-

Charlie leans her head against the window her locks being a cushion even if it’s in a different style from usual the hairs on her shoulder being pawed at from the stray her eyes remain outside, with the car on the bridge heading towards their vacation surely she’ll spot the signs where they going.

She’ll admit she did not want to ask with the thought of jinxing the car to stop once again today, she couldn’t have that and stayed comfortable with Vaggie leaning on her shoulder holding KeeKee she didn’t want to move anyway. Her waiting rewards her while she is appreciates her city in this Carmine color she sees only one circle on the highway sign that makes sense, circle six the Morningstar Cabin.

Charlie grins her hand on her cheek peering at the up coming tunnel she can already see the surrounding forest, she giggles looking towards you and when she catches your gaze she beams wider when you grin back.

“The perfect getaway right? I’m happy we’re doing this.” Dad chimes, his voice lulling her into the past she smiles at him laying her forehead on his cheek.

“Holy shit! So this is the sixth circle, huh short prince?” Angel exclaims, rolling down the window and poking his head out not aware that Hell can come in these cool hues, even smelling nature he wouldn’t thought to smell again.

“Yeah, what comes beauty is hidden thorns.” You breath taking the sights as you ride along the river coast on one side the other is a slope of towering trees, you smile you may be a real estate monster you’ll never let anyone change the home of your much happier memories.

“Darling, you mean this forest can threaten powerful souls?” Enjoying the showcase of fangs you show to him “They would never be found again, my dear.” You respond his grin is that much wider.

Alastor peer upon the more residential area of the circle, the majority being elite Hellborns and Imps, he marks down a butcher he would like to visit and perhaps the shops as well he giggles new methods and plans to pace yourself from stress.

Your eye catch him mid giggle raising your brow you feel bad for whomever he’s thinking of with a roll of your orbs, you continue along the smooth road taking a few turns the woods remain the same with lavish manors and castles far between.

You slow to a crawl with the grand gates in front with your last name a glow, Dad starts first his head appearing above the middle console snapping his fingers, you join in grinning Charlie beams finishing the rhythm. The gates open seamlessly for you all, the path you take is long for fifteen mph the property having a few acres with a healthy garden trees and a lake, you do not have to worry about the wild life either with fifteen foot long stone walls.

Alastor notes that this isn’t a traditional wooden cabin he expected large stone walls, wood log beams with excellent multiple window placement, grand and hopefully no tacky circus decor. You park in the garage giddy with every breath you take, putting the keys in your void.

“Come on Vaggie! I can’t wait to show you our room.” Charlie beams dragging the poor girl out the garage luggage in hand.

“Imma get a room with a balcony.” Angel sings following Charlie with Husk on his tail and Niffty is gone. You prance to the trunk for your luggage when you stop to see Caster lounging on them, the cat laying his head on his paws the tail swaying lazily. You smile reaching for his fluffy ears—

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that, son. The beast got rabies.” Dad notes, you hum you’ll train him to not bite later. Caster lets out static jolt of sound jumping on your arm and going to land on dad who yelp running behind you, you leer at the beast on the floor who’s grin gotten smaller, you pick him up by the scruff.

“My, seems like Caster is defensive.” Alastor rang a smug smile on his lips, “Oh, what's there to be defensive of!” You add with a chuckle, you keep hold of Caster while your darling snap away the luggage.

“In the morning I’m making pancakes, but not for him.” Dad taunts the mini beast grabbing his case and closing the trunk and disappearing further inside. You adjust the cat to be more comfortable in your one arm while the other wraps around your darling hip, leading him to your room.

End of Part II

#hazbin hotel #male reader #alastor x male reader #y/n Morningstar #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #angel dust #vaggie #husker hazbin hotel #niffty #cursed cat alastor

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