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jonathansthickthighs · 5 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Yandere! Choso Kamo x Reader

Description: You start receiving sweet, anonymous love notes from a secret admirer which start turning perverted over time.

Trigger Warnings: 7.4k words, nsfw, college AU, yandere, afab reader, obsessive love, virgin choso, CREEP CHOSO, pervert choso, stalker choso, masturbation, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), choso is kinda pathetic, he calls reader princess, reader is lowkey into choso stalking her, dark themes

Not edited!

Masterlist

I wish you could grasp the exquisite beauty you hold in my eyes. ♡︎

Your eyes widened as you read the note placed in front of you on your desk, heat rushing to your cheeks. Surely this person must be mistaken, was this note really directed at you? You looked around the empty classroom wondering who could’ve possibly left this note on your desk and if they were even in this class. Even if you weren’t sure if the note was for you, suppressing the smile that was forming in your face felt impossible. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you before. Sure, people found you attractive, but the way this was written almost felt innocent— like there was no malicious intent behind it. The complete opposite of what most men that approached you were like.

You traced your hand over the neat calligraphy, feeling your heart rate speed up at the thought of someone truly thinking this about you. You couldn’t help yourself from reading it over and over, allowing your lips to curl up knowing no one was around to see you smiling at a paper like an idiot.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall, pale man with dark hair styled in space buns, stood there observing you discretely through the small window of the amphitheater door. Your reaction to his note caused his heart to leap with joy, the sight of your smile held the power to brighten even his darkest days. Your response to his message only inspired him to dedicate his time to write you more notes that would make you feel as flustered as he was by you when you spared him a single glance.

Choso stepped away from the door smoothly when he started hearing voices approaching from down the hall, pretending to be entertained by his phone. He glanced at the time on the screen, noticing it was almost time for class, but he opted to wait for everyone else to walk in before him. He always did this. Never had he been alone with you in the classroom even though he always arrived before you. He always stood behind a wall watching you stride gracefully into class earlier than everyone else. You were such a smart, punctual, responsible girl and he admired that greatly. He loathed never being capable of being alone with you, knowing he would be a blushing, horny mess— quite frankly, that’s not the first impression he wanted you to have of him.

Taking a deep breath, Choso walked in, making his way to his usual sit, two rows behind you, yet at a perfectly angle where he was able to contemplate your side profile. The moment he walked past you, your eyes locked. You offered him a small, cute smile and Choso wanted nothing more than to beam back at you, but instead he drifted his eyes away from yours, blushing in embarrassment. You exuded such kindness, always greeting him with the warmth of your pretty smile, even amidst the whispers and judgements surrounding his oddness. You kept smiling for him even when he didn’t smile back.

Choso was a very shy man. He didn’t know how to talk to girls, but that wasn’t something he was interested in doing before he met you. Dating had never been something he took interest in. Despite his brothers’ persistent attempts to orchestrate romantic encounters with women, they would always be left disheartened by Choso’s aloofness, proof of his disinterest in the affairs of the heart until he found you. None of them were like you.

The pale man proceeded his daily routine of observing you, not paying attention to what the professor was explaining. To him, this was his time to learn all your quirks and movements. His own personal course of you. Don’t you dare ask him anything on what the class is actually about because he’ll just answer with facts and observations about you. Like how you chew on the cap of your pen furiously when you don’t understand a subject or how you shift in your seat every few minutes because you just can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sit in.

He finds solace in studying your countenance, captivated by your vivid expressions, particularly your expressive eyes. The eyes are the windows of your soul, as they say. They unveil the depth of your emotions, he could tell when something was off about you by merely looking into your eyes— your feelings always danced within them. Being able to stare into your eyes without fear of rejection was one of his deepest desires in life. Feeling lost was a petrifying emotion, but losing himself to the never ending abysm that lived in your orbs was something he would never be apprehensive of.

You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a second in the day where you are not invading my thoughts. I wish I had the courage to speak to you.

Reading the note that was accompanied by a beautiful rose this time, you pouted, wondering why this person was so afraid to approach you. According to your own judgment, you gave off a friendly demeanor. If only you could figure out who was leaving you these notes. You weren’t afraid of approaching them first if they were too shy to do so themselves. You had been getting these notes for a month now and no matter how early you got to class this person always beat you to it. Deciding to form a plan to get this person to show themselves, you started brainstorming.

You could never begin to comprehend the depths of Choso’s love for you. That’s why you would never understand his reasoning when he followed that disgusting man that harassed you on campus. You would never understood why he had to pull the man to an empty alley and make him suffer. Choso hated that he had been at work when it all went down, he wasn’t there to save you and he would never forgive himself for it.

He was lucky you were able to scape him, but nonetheless you would’ve never went through that horrifying situation if only he had been there to protect you. He came to the conclusion that he needed to know your location at all times. That’s why he pretended to bump into you as you made your way to your other class, slipping an AirTag into one of the pockets of your bag discreetly.

He could imagine look of fear in your eyes when this man tried putting his grimy hands on you— it was enough to drive Choso to violence. He wanted to cause that scum the same fear he had caused his precious girl. The lengths he would go for you were unimaginable. What would you think of him if you knew he had stabbed that man to death that night? Even through his internal turmoil about your perception of him, he couldn’t help but feel proud at what he had done for you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he was capable of anything just to keep you safe.

One thing he felt grandly ashamed of was his perverted thoughts. To him you were much more than just a sexual object, but he couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the trivial thought of you. Never before had he experienced sexual desire this intense before, because of that, he was still a virgin at his age. Losing his virginity had never even crossed his mind before. Yet, after he met you, he couldn’t stop imagining how pushing his length into your wet, tight heat would feel like.

Every night he would spend it scrolling endlessly through your social media— which he didn’t dare follow— and staring at your beautiful pictures, smiling at him so sweetly. Choso would stare at them intently, thrusting his cock into his fist desperately, moaning your name, imaging you were riding him vigorously trying to make yourself orgasm on his throbbing cock. Thinking about it was enough to make him explode all over his hand and well built abs. Abs he had spent hours at the gym working on to look good just for you. He wanted— no needed you to find him attractive, if he wanted you to only see him he had to make sure he looked his best.

He had trouble containing his excitement when you were around, you simply were too beautiful for your own good. Hence the reason he stood outside the window of your apartment jerking his cock as he watched you rubbing your swollen clit through the window. He wanted nothing more than to climb through the damn window and attach his hungry lips to your clit, which was just begging for his attention. It wasn’t the first time he watched you masturbate, it was clear as day that you needed some help, his help. When you accepted to be his, he would gladly service you every day and night. It didn’t matter how many times as long as you were satisfied, he promised to put your pleasure above his always.

Choso massaged his throbbing cock thoroughly, spreading the precum that leaked from his sensitive tip all over his shaft. He covered his mouth attempting to muffled his pathetic whimpers from being heard by you. He continued watching as you inserted two fingers into your tight cunt, making Choso’s eyes roll all the way to the back of his skull. He wished he could be the one pushing his digits inside of you. He was sure they would feel better than yours, his were so much bigger, they would reach depths you’ve never reached before. Gods, your moans were the most melodious sound he’d ever heard, you were driving him insane— he wasn’t going to be able to hold it much longer. He needed you to come with him. He didn’t deserve to come if you didn’t.

Your facial expressions were the sexiest thing he has ever witnessed. You were simply godly, there was no other way to describe you. The beads of sweat forming on your forehead and coating the rest of your body gave you a breathtaking glow. He needed to taste your skin, kiss and run his tongue all over your delectable body. “Please…” Choso didn’t know what he was begging for, what he did know was how badly he wanted you. His twitching cock was proof of that.

Choso could see your face contort in pleasure. He learned by watching you so often that, when you made that expression, it meant you were close to reaching your peak. He felt relieved knowing that he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Let’s come together, princess. P-please, give this to me.” He uttered in a hushed tone, moaning your name lowly.

He shivered as you started fingering yourself at a quicker pace, arching your back. It was almost like you were inviting him to ogle at your heaving breasts, your nipples he so badly wanted to take in his mouth, noticeably perky through the thin fabric of your oversized shirt. Choso would make sure to provide you with a lifetime supply of his shirts, you would never feel obligated to buy an oversized shirt ever again.

Your jaw slacked open as you let it all out, making Choso undergo through a confusing sense of jealousy over your own fingers, yearning to feel you releasing your sweet nectar around his cock instead. Breath heaving, he fisted his pulsing cock a couple of more times, enjoying the sound of the lewd noises that came out of your perfect lips, before spraying an copious amount semen on the ground. He tugged on his cock a few more time, coming down from his high at the same time as you.

“Goodnight, I love you.” His voice barely a sigh as he whispered longingly. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly before pressing a soft kiss into the tip of his fingers to then drag them it across your reflection in the window. He jumped recalling he should’ve been at his place by now, having lost track of time completely, knowing he had to prepare dinner for his brothers. So with one last look at you, he disappeared into the night.

When Choso arrived to the amphitheater he was surprised to see a note on your desk already. He quickly approached it, grabbing the note, recognizing your handwriting right away.

I want to meet you.

He stilled in place at the five words scribbled on the paper. You were actually interested in finding out who he was? Choso couldn’t decipher what your intent was, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted you to know your secret admirers identity just yet. He knew you were well aware of the swirling rumors about him, everyone painted him as nothing more than a freak. His demeanor remained reserved and he preferred solitude over companionship, which only fueled the disdain others had towards his persona. He wanted to believe you would never see him in such way, but there was always something stabbing him on the side, whispering the possibility that you, too, might harbor the same prejudices as them.

Choso opted to respond to your message briefly, accompanying it by one of your favorite treats before rushing out of the classroom, aware that you would arrive at any moment.

Just like that, exactly one minutes later you entered through the opposite door Choso exited from. You took notice of the note on your desk from afar and quickened your pace towards it in excitement. Smiling, you inspected the treat placed right next to it. How this person knew what your favorite things to snack on were, remained a mystery to you, but it didn’t bother you as long as they kept them coming. Grabbing the note and opening it, your smile disappeared only to reappear in Choso’s face as he watched your reaction. Your facial expression were just so funny to him sometimes.

No. ♡︎

“The fuck?” You exclaimed out loud in disbelief. No? Just no?! You pondered the ulterior motives of this individual. Had they just been playing a month long prank on you this whole time? Visibly frustrated, you plopped down into your seat, glancing at the note once again to make sure you were reading correctly.

Choso felt guilt wash over him when he saw you get genuinely upset, yet he couldn’t suppress the soft giggle that escaped his mouth at how cute you looked when you were mad. He despised that he made you feel this way, but he would reveal himself to you when he was ready and now, was not the right time.

Routinely, he lingered behind for everyone to enter ahead of him before making his entrance. Like he always did, he passed by your row, his eyes inevitably sought yours yearning for that connection he felt with them. This time, an impulse seized Choso, deciding to give you a tentative smile only to not be greeted by your own— mirroring the same coldness he always showed you each time you beamed at him. Bewildered and wounded, he hurried to his seat feeling like he just received a punch in the gut. Was your behavior due to your exasperation at the note or was it because you allowed everyone to taint your mind with the rumors about him?

The pain he felt by your indifference towards him lingered in his chest. Choso spent the whole lecture overthinking, anxiety building in his stomach and causing him to tremble. There was one thing he was completely certain of.

He hated when you didn’t smile for him.

Gloom filled the rest of Choso’s day ever since you decided to stab him in the heart with your frown. Today he had the evening free from his job and he decided to spend it staring at your pictures with a leaky, throbbing erection straining against his sweatpants. He didn’t deserve to ease himself after the events that transpired today. Staring at one of his favorite pictures of you smiling so prettily, he ran his thumb desirously over your face through the screen of his phone. He fantasized about the softness of your skin as he cupped your gorgeous face in his big hands before pressing his lips to yours. He ran his fingers over his chapped lips imagining how they would feel rubbing against your soft ones.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door of his room slam open, holding his phone to his chest securely before facing whoever forced him break out of his delusions. “Yo, bro where’s the—“ Yuji cut himself off when he saw the strange position his brother was in. “You’re not watching porn are you?” He questioned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Choso.

This caused Choso to shake his head rapidly, with widened eyes. “W-what? Of course not, Yuji! What is it that you need?” He inquired eager to usher his brother out of his room with utmost haste.

Yuji smiled slyly, sliding into his bed. “What are hiding, bro?” He curiously interrogated his older brother, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

Choso chuckled nervously, his grasp on his phone tightened against his chest. “N-nothing, just scrolling, heh.” Way to go, Choso, you can never hide anything from your prying brother. This caused Yuji to snicker, throwing himself towards Choso, fighting him for his cellphone. “Don’t think I don’t see your raging boner, bro. Let me see what you’re looking at!” He joked, attempting to force his phone out of his iron grip.

“Why are you even looking there, brother? Gross!” Choso quipped back, his voice muffled by his brothers hand on his face. With a victorious laugh, Yuji suspended his arm in the air seeing Choso’s phone in his hand.

Yuji quickly unlocked his older brother’s phone because, of course, he had no passcode. “Whoa, she’s so pretty. Who is this?” He exclaimed in astonishment, scrolling through your profile, bamboozled at the fact that his virgin brother was finally taking interest in an actual girl.

“Yuji, please just give me my phone back.” Choso sighed in defeat, not wanting to talk to his brother about his obsessive love for you.

“Is she your crush?” Yuji questioned playfully, dragging the last word. Choso furrowed his eyebrows together, before nodding awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. His younger brother erupted in a boisterous laugh, rolling on his bed like a madman. “About damn time, bro! I was staring to think you were going to die alone— wait, why aren’t you following her?” Yuji inquired, confused by what he was seeing on the phone screen.

“I— we’ve never really talked.” Choso sheepishly admitted, heat creeping up his neck in embarrassment.

“Unacceptable. Let’s talk to her now!” Immediately after that suggestion, Choso ripped his phone from Yuji’s hand.

“Are you insane? She’s gonna think I’m a creep!” Which he was, but he didn’t need his brother knowing that.

Yuji shook his head in disbelief. “Okay, so help me understand. You don’t talk to her and she doesn’t talk to you. I bet you can barely look at her in the eye. How exactly do you plan on getting your crush to evolve, bro? Are you going to pine in secret forever? Do you think one day she’ll come to our door asking for your hand in marriage out of nowhere?” I wish.

“You know what?” Yuji snatched Choso’s phone back, smirking, before pressing the follow button.

“Yuji, no!” Choso pulled his space buns in frustration, falling back on his bed. He glanced at the watch on his nightstand knowing you most likely had your phone on your hand at this hour. There was no way you would miss the notification.

“Chill, bro, it’s done. You’re welcome!” Yuji beamed as he threw Choso’s phone back to his chest, his grin radiating with accomplishment as he rose from the bed, making his way out of the room with a satisfied stride. Choso groaned, covering his face with hands as he blushed furiously. Not even a minute after Yuji walked out of the room he felt his phone vibrate and Choso’s heart almost came out through his mouth when he saw the notification.

You followed him back.

The next day you walked through the door of the amphitheater with a gleeful spring in your step— your frustrations from yesterday seemingly dissipated. You decided you weren’t going to force whoever was sending you notes to show themselves. They have the right to remain hidden if that’s what they truly desired and you weren’t one to beg anyone for anything. If something was bound to happen with your secret admirer, it would.

As per usual, a folded paper laid on your desk, but you were quick to take notice of the white paper bag that stood next to it. You furrowed your eyebrows as curiosity took over you, almost skipping towards it. The note was brief and straight to the point.

Would you wear this for me?

As you blinked, a sense of puzzlement washed over you upon reading the note. Now they’re sending you clothing items? The bag, securely sealed with tape, offered no deterrent as you swiftly tore it open. Instantly, a surge or heat flooded your cheeks at the sight of its contents. You moved your gaze around, making sure no one was around before pulling out a box that held a pair of panties, colored a deep purple, made out of lace, see through material. Oh, but they weren’t just any panties, it was one of those vibrating underwear that was controlled by someone else with a controller.

You couldn’t believe what your eyes were seeing right now. Out of all the endless note you had received from them, this was way out of the ordinary. None of them had shown anything sexual, not even innuendos. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t know wether to feel disrespected or severely turned on at the thought of your secret admirer controlling the vibrations during class. You bit you lips giving it some thought before nodding with determination. You shoved the panties back in the bag, advancing out of the classroom in direction to the restroom.

Choso watched in disbelief as you walked out, scarcely able to believe that you were actually going to wear his gift. Today, he had woken up feeling bold and after the confidence boost he got from you the night before, he had decided to procure something a little more special for you. After you followed him back, he saw it as a signal that you didn’t see him as everyone else did. Perhaps you two would be meeting sooner than he had anticipated, yet first, he wanted to test the waters.

He needed to assess the extent of your willingness to invest in him without even knowing his identity. He would’ve never guessed this would be something that excited him at this extent, his cock was fully erect as he eagerly waited for you to come back. He wished he could see the way those panties would cling to your hips and ass— something told him he would sooner than later. He had specifically bought that color to match his hoodie, which he was wore today in hopes you would wear his gift. And you did.

By the time you were back, everyone had settled to their seats already, including Choso. The moment you stepped into the classroom, he pressed the button in its lowest setting drawing a whimper from your lips, making everyone turn their attention towards you. Your eyes widened, swiftly offering an awkward, yet apologetic smile before ushering to your seat. While you were in the restroom you were able to catch sight of what the box the panties came in said— your secret admirer had failed to notice that the box indicated that the vibrations were controlled by a close-range remote control. Now you were able to confirm that your admirer was in this very class.

Choso smirked as he watched you take a seat, nobody else noticed, but there was a slight wobble to your walk— only a person that observed you constantly could differentiate from you usual stride. He proceeded to change the vibrations to the medium setting, almost chuckling out loud when he saw you jump slightly at the sudden change of speed. He could only imagine how wet your cunt was getting. Such a dirty girl, getting off to being controlled by a man she doesn’t even know in front of everyone. Would you be able to orgasm like this?

The pale man had to contain a hiss as he palmed his throbbing cock over his pants under the table, desiring nothing more than to give it to you on the spot. He could see the noticeable embarrassment on your face from his angle. Shifting on your seat every so often, covering your mouth with your hands as you attempted to take your notes and your eyes rolling back every time he changed the speed. He simply loved watching you look around, making sure no one noticed your odd behavior. Choso never knew this could be so hot.

Choso bit his lip, cock twitching in his now too tight pants, seeing your chest heaving up and down. He could tell you were close, so he decided to change it to the highest speed. He watched you lower your head, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you came, muffling your whimpers with your hand. Unbeknownst to you, Choso was in the same exact position as you as he released in his trousers by simply observing you.

He was thankful he decided to wear dark pants today.

I know I messed up, princess. I shouldn’t have given you the panties in the box. Now you know how close I am to you. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed watching you squirm in pleasure in your seat. This is embarrassing to admit, but you were so sexy that you made me come in my pants. I hate wasting my cum that way when it could easily be inside you instead.

I’ve been thinking about it and I changed my mind about us meeting. How about we meet at the fountain in the middle of campus? Tonight at 8pm. I bought you a little something to wear for me. ♡

You hadn’t stopped re-reading the note ever since you left class. The dark, purple summer dress he had bestowed upon you lay delicately on your bed as you wished time would hasten its pace, eager to encounter this mysterious individual. Excitement bubbled up in your stomach as well as fear, what if this person turned out to be less than benevolent? There was barely anyone around campus at that hour, there no one to save you. Memories of the time that man had tried harassing you flooded your mind, not wanting the past to repeat itself. Yet your longing to meet this person persisted more than your anxieties. That’s why you opted to pack a pepper spray and a pocket knife in your bag without forgetting to share your location with your best friend.

Noticing the time to leave was approaching, you quickly dressed yourself, spritzing one of your favorite perfume on yourself before stepping out the door.

Choso was a nervous wreck, having arrived an hour too early. He had been sweating bullets the whole time as he attempted to get ready, forcing him to endure three showers. How was he supposed to look his best for you when his body wasn’t cooperating? He had wore his best outfit for you and made sure his hair was neatly styled in his usual do.

Now, he was there, struggling to regulate his breathing, trying his hardest to control his sweating. He dreaded appearing like a disheveled mess when you finally met. He kept checking the time, despising how extended each minute felt. He scrolled through your account, attempting to make time pass by faster, entertaining himself with your pictures as he always did when he felt down. He took notice of the time, seeing it was already one minute past eight. Where were you?

You were merely a minute late, yet panic took over him, entertaining thoughts of being left abandoned or worse yet, fearing that something had happened to you on the way here. Rising to his feet, he scanned the dimly lit campus and there was no sight of you. This couldn’t be happening to him. He could almost feel tears forming his eyes and just as he was about to check your location, he heard soft steps approaching through the grass.

He turned around and there you were.

He gulped when he saw you were wearing the dress he had gifted you with so much love. You were so beautiful, his heart twisted in his chest. For the first time it was just you and him— with your knowledge, obviously. He stared into your eyes and you stared right back. Your eyes were wide in astonishment. Choso attempted to open his mouth, but no words came out.

“It’s you.” You stated, your voice almost a whisper. Choso’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his gaze was fixated on your pretty face and he couldn’t possibly look away. So, so pretty— he wanted to snatch you away and hide you from the world, your beauty shinning for his eyes only. He probably had a lovestruck look on his face and he didn’t even care about hiding it anymore.

“Y-yeah.” That was all Choso could manage to utter out, wishing he had left his hair down so it would at least cover part of his flushed face.

“You’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” You giggled, taking a few steps closer to him. “You can’t even look at me in the eye for more than a second.” You added as you tried to catch his golden brown eyes, surrounded by what seemed like red eyeshadow, but in reality the crimson around his eyes was brought to you by his lack of sleep. Choso kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the back of his neck starting to sweat. “You were incredibly bold the other day, not what I would expect from a man like you. Consider me pleasantly surprised.” He blushed harder at your compliment.

“Y-you liked it?” Choso inquired attempting to meet your eyes again, almost whimpering at how close you were to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body.

“Honestly, I found it quite disrespectful.” You started, making Choso’s eyes open up as he started apologizing profusely, but he was cut short. “But that was only at first. The more thought I gave it, the wetter I got. I fucking loved it, Choso.” His dick shot straight up the moment he heard his name leave your lips, he had longed to heart it for longer than you could muster. You drew yourself nearer to him until your soft chest was pressed against his hard one. Choso could stop his eyes from glueing themselves to your chest, being squeezed against his own. He was rock hard.

“Now it’s my turn to be bold with you, Choso. Would you like to go back to my place and show me what you can do with that, instead of a vibrator?” You suggested, biting your lip as you cupped his member in your hand. The golden eyed man couldn’t hold his whimpers when he felt your hand on him. This was not the way he visualized this night, but there was no way he would reject your offer.

“Let’s go.” Choso agreed eagerly.

You grabbed his hand as you both started hurrying towards your apartment which was only five minutes away. He was certain he would never tire of the feeling of your hand on his. He stared at you face, not believing you were truly here with him. He couldn’t stop himself from slipping your hand from his and lifting you up into his arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

“Oh? You seem to know the way to my apartment, have you been stalking me?” You questioned playfully, poking his cheek. Choso stopped on his tracks, looking at your facial expression trying to find the reassurance that you were truly playing with him right now. “Jeez, Choso! Relax a little, I’m only joking. I wouldn’t mind you stalking me, I’ve always thought you were the hottest guy in class.” You winked at him, causing a genuine smile to creep to his red face as he continued his way to your apartment.

The moment you arrived at your apartment, Choso rushed to your bedroom with you still in his arms, placing you gently on your bed. He sat next to you, feeling the sheets of your mattress, reminiscing of all the times he had been in here without your knowledge. You placed a hand on his thigh softly and he flexed it as he felt himself tense up when you got closer to him. “W-wait. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

You stared at him in bewilderment. “You’re being serious right now?”

“Yes. I-I’m sorry. I wanted to let you know in case I wasn’t… good. We don’t have to continue if you don’t want.” Choso apologized, starting to get up and walk himself out of your apartment, only to be stopped by you.

“It’s okay, Choso. I just can’t believe a guy that looks like you has never done anything like this before.” You admitted as you cupped his face gently. The fact that you found him this attractive made his chest inflate with pride— after all, he always tried to look his best for you. “Can I kiss you?” You asked for permission and he answered with an eager nod. You closed the space between you both, massaging your lips into his surprisingly soft ones. Choso placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze, making you open your mouth ardently for him to slide his tongue in. Your wet tongue felt like heaven against his, you kiss was skyrocketing him into an abysm of serendipity. He never thought kissing could feel this good.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva keeping your lips connected to one another. “That was amazing, [Name]. Thank you.” Choso gratefully expressed, a lovesick smile lingering on his face.

Your lips formed into a smirk before pushing him back on your bed, climbing onto his lap and crashing your lips into his once again. He responded right away by sliding his tongue across your bottom lips, desperate for you to allow him entrance into your wet cavern and you complied enthusiastically. As you shared the reverent kiss you started grinding you hips against the tent in pants, making him grunt into the kiss. You pulled away from him momentarily to lift off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. “Wow, you’re so strong, Choso.” You praised him, dragging your hand over them, making him hiss at the contact.

“It’s all for you, princess.” He admitted, daring to place his hand on your ass that was half covered by the purple fabric of the dress. “Gods, I’ve wanted to grab this ass for such a long time. You’re so damn breathtaking.” He added squeezing your globs firmly.

“You can touch me wherever you want from now on.” You replied shakily, feeling your panties damped more by the minute. Having him feel you up and grope you this way was making you inexplicably horny.

Choso moved one of his hand tentatively up your thigh until he reached your crotch, looking up at you for permission to touch that sacred place. You gave a nod, understanding exactly what he was asking for. Choso wasted no time, running his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shut your eyes, quivering as you felt him graze your sensitive clit, wanting for him to pull your panties off and touch you without a barrier. “Can I taste you?” You slowly unveiled your eyes to find Choso begging you with his eyes to allow him the pleasure of eating you out. You nodded zealously, getting off his lap, standing in front of him as he remained seated.

Choso pulled your dress off, slowly exposing you to him. “I can’t belive how beautiful you are.” He ran his eyes over your body, adorned by some cute purple, lace lingerie, making him grin adoringly. It seemed that you knew by now he loved that color on you. As much as he loved the way you looked in the little piece you decided to wear for him, he needed it off. Now.

He attempted to undo your bra, needing your assistance due to his lack of experience, making you giggle. He slowly pulled the bra off, revealing your naked breasts to him. He couldn’t help himself from ogling your breasts like a pervert, he had wanted to see you fully nude for such an extended period of time— he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

The curve of your waist was inviting him run his hands through it until they reached your hips and with that he pulled you closer to him, until your breasts were close enough to his face. He took one of your perky nipples in his mouth, sucking like he was starved while he pulled gently on your other nipple. He moved his other hand down to your cunt to rub on your clit over the thin fabric, while simultaneously stimulating your sensitive nipples. It was too much for you, moans flew out of your mouth unstoppably. You were incredibly wet.

He moved on to suckle on your other nipple, enjoying the taste of your skin thoroughly. He released your nipple with a wet pop, yearning to taste your juices on his tongue. He hooked his finger on your panties before pulling them down in a swift motion. He pushed you gently onto your bed. He spread your legs apart, groaning at the sight of your sopping wet cunt. “Such a pretty little pussy. I’ve always wanted to have my mouth right here.” Choso expressed as he placed a finger on your clit, always begging for his attention. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off watching you touch yourself.” He let the confession slip out before he could stop himself.

“You’ve watched me touch myself? That’s so fucking hot!” You threw your head back as he started rubbing consistent circles on you clit. He decided he had teased himself long enough and it was finally time to taste you. He started by giving you a long lick, dragging his inexperienced tongue upwards from your entrance towards your clit, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he delighted himself with your taste for the first time. He stilled for a moment before attacking your clit with his mouth. With your guidance he was able to lick at just the right spot, earning breathy moans from you. You chanted his name as he licked your sensitive bud with no plans on stopping until you fed him your nectar.

“Don’t stop, Choso! Put your fingers inside me!” You squeaked out as he quickly complied, your walls squeezing around his fingers and he reached places you’ve never reached with your own fingers. “I’m gonna come soon!” You whined, squeezing his head between your thighs as you arched your back in pleasure.

He speed up the movements of his tongue, delighting himself with the taste of your pussy, thrusting his digits inside you at a rapid pace. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning into your clit, knowing he was going to make you orgasm with his mouth just like he always desired. Once he felt you clench around his finger tightly he knew it was over. A scream of his name rippled your throat as you let it all out. You shivered as you came down from your, legs trembling in ecstasy. Choso stayed attached to your pussy with his eyes closed, body quivering, lapping up your delightful juices. You had once again made him come in his pants.

Choso stood up from his knees, unfastening his trousers, kicking them off his feet, desperate to finally feel you pussy. You stared at his cum covered cock, taking in his size. “You’re huge, Choso.” You said eyeing him lustfully. The lewd look on your face made his dick stand up completely straight even after having came just now.

You shimmied yourself onto the middle of the bed encouraging him to climb in with you. Choso complied, hungrily contemplating your body. He loved absolutely every part of it. Placing himself on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, he pressed his lips against yours, missing the feeling of them. While you were kissing he started grinding his cock against your soaking wet heat. His erect member was in desperate need to be sheathed by your warmth.

Choso grabbed his member by the base, rubbing the tip against your entrance teasingly slow, spreading the cum that coated him all over your pussy. “Push it in, please, Choso.” You begged, voice wavering in desire. Hearing you plead for him awakened something different in him, he no longer felt embarrassed or ashamed about anything. You had accepted him. From this day on you had become officially his and he owned your pretty body. Nothing could stop him now, nobody would take you away from him.

Satisfying your plea, he pushed in, stretching out your tight cunt with his girth. He grunted in pleasure as you engulfed him in your heat, burring his head in the crook of your neck. Your jaw slacked open as you felt his immense size enter you, feeling him in your stomach as he bottomed out. “F-fuck, princess. You feel amazing, s-so tight!” Choso complimented, conscious that he wasn’t going to last at all. Your pussy clenched deliciously around him, a sensation he had never felt before. He knew you’d understand.

“Oh, Choso! You’re so deep inside my pussy!” You managed to babble out, already feeling drunk on his cock. You grabbed onto his space buns, undoing them so you could see him with his hair down and what a great decision that was. This man was gorgeous, his long raven locks falling down his face, giving him a more rugged look. You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped your lips at just the mere sight of him.

Choso whimpered your name, ramming his cock deep inside you at a steady pace. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer, princess. I’m s-sorry.” He uttered out shakily, caressing your face lovingly. He started pumping his cock inside you at an inhuman speed feeling his orgasm approaching faster by the second.

“L-let me feel your cum inside me, Choso. Just like you said you wanted in your note!” Your words alone made him quiver out his orgasm with a loud groan of your name. He moaned, throwing his head back as your cunt milked his semen out of him, injecting it straight in your womb. You moaned enjoying the warm feeling of his spent filling you up. He continued thrusting erratically and sloppily, stilling inside you, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy for a little longer.

“I love you so much.” He confessed breathlessly, keeping his head buried in your neck as he caught his breath, relishing the way your body molded into his perfectly. You were meant to be his. Deciding to finally pull out, he hissed as he watched your mixed juices drip out of your hole. This had been the best night of his entire life.

All thanks to you. ♡︎

#yandere #yandere choso #yandere choso kamo #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere choso x reader #yandere choso kamo x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #tw: dark content #stalker choso #dark choso #jjk smut #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen smut #creep choso #yandere tw

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vampirehoon · 5 months

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w.c. ⟢ 1.1k

pairing ⟢ husband!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis ⟢ it’s been a battle between your new kitten and your husband, sunghoon being bothered by the bundle of joy and him not understanding “shoo” and understanding “play”. one evening it is apparent that sunghoon wasn’t adoring his son which you have to make him understand that he is a cat dad now.

a/n ⟢ hi! i’m new to this fanfiction world on tumblr but from the looks of liking of my last post i thought to try and post a longer fic i’ve been working on. thank you so(x2) much for the likes and i hope i can create some more content for the engenes to read. thx again! ✮⋆˙

ᨐฅ

“love, could you grab this cat?” your husband calls from his office, his voice communicating irritation.

you head into his office from the kitchen to witness the cutest interaction. sunghoon is trying to shoo away your new family member but the kitten thinks he’s playing with him.

you make your way over to them, kneeling beside sunghoon’s arm chair.

“you know,” you hold the kitten in your hands. “he is your son.”

sunghoon scoffs. “he looks nothing like me.”

“oh really?” you turn your head, repositioning yourself to be turned towards him.

the kitten sits in your hands as you raise him to be right up to sunghoon’s cheek. their cute faces are identical. you fond over the resemblance.

“identical.” you smile ear to ear.

sunghoon watches at you, admiring secretly. he doesn’t let that adorable smile on your face ruin his stubbornness.

“son’s take after their mothers.” your heart flutters, only slightly, as sunghoon takes the kitten into his hold. His hands could almost crush him but his hold is gentle. same as you did to him, he presses the cat up against your cheek, amused already.

he nods to himself while he ping pongs his eyes between you two.

“same nose,” He taps both of your noses.

“same eyes,” He looks at both of your eyes.

“same whiskers.” he plays with the kittens, and pretends you have them as well.

“whiskers?!” you scoff, which sunghoon broke into an adorable laugh when he realized he teased you successfully.

you steal the kitten back.

“you meanie.” you give his shoulder a soft push before striding away, offended.

“you enjoy it.” you hear the smirk in his voice as your back is turned.

“yeah right.” you return back to the kitchen, definitely sulking, and letting your kitten sit on the counter top with you. you pet the kitten and he purrs as you mumble that you don’t and will never have whiskers.

later in the evening, sunghoon had finished his work in his office and came out to find you preparing dinner. you looked huggable but he knew he couldn’t startle you so he asked what you were making before he approached.

“something simple.” you kept it simple in replying as well. sunghoon could tell he bothered you earlier and eased his way over behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on the shoulder.

“forgive me, my love.” he says this with a deep sigh. the last thing he’d want to cause is an argument between the two of you or a distance. he loves to get a rise of you and see your cute reactions but he knows he can be unaware of how it affects you.

and that is why you’re always back in his arms every night, kissing his moles and insisting that he’s the most perfect human being. you turn your head to meet his lips, kissing him sweetly. a kiss where you close your eyes to really feel each other’s lips. you speak over his lips, the breath tickling his lips. “i always do.” and another peck, just for good measure.

sunghoon knew you were watching what you were cooking but couldn’t help wanting to kiss you longer and somewhere more comfortable.

his hands took your legs to lift you on his hips. you held your legs around his back and had your hands grip the back of his neck. he walked you from the kitchen to the couch, ignoring the dinner plans, and made you lay down below him.

you looked unreal. the moonlight shined through the windows of the living room and painted you a soft blue with the moon in your eyes. he wouldn’t have been able to let himself stop if it wasn’t for a cry from the bedroom.

groaning, sunghoon drops onto in the couch, letting you run to get him but you dragged him with you. sunghoon and you end up at the door, your kitten was crying for his parents. sunghoon focused his eyes on where the kitten was and it was crawling from his side of the bed with what looks like a small blanket covering him.

to say he was unimpressed that a cat got its own blanket before he fully ever got one at night was an understatement. H

he scoffed at the kitten’s baby treatment.

“he has his own bed, love.” and in your defense, you let sunghoon know it was just this one time.

you go claim your kitten and hand him over to sunghoon.

“take him to his water bowl or our dinner is going to be ruined.” you smiled softly at the two of them and patted sunghoon’s shoulder as you walked past him in the doorframe to get back to the vegetables.

now father and son are sitting at the water bowl. sunghoon watches as the kitten’s tail wiggles when he drinks. sunghoon laughs to himself, pulling out his phone to take a video. dinner is ready and you wipe your hands dry and go to call over sunghoon but catch the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

sunghoon’s tapping his nails on the ground like a spider for the kitten to attack. smiling brightly at the cat he, earlier, wasn’t the biggest fan of. this sure brings tears to your eyes. you speak up a big grin.

“father-son bonding time i see?” you tease, expecting sunghoon to get defensive but he picks up the kitten and makes his way over to you.

“i guess i never understood cats. they are quite cute.” he places the innocent fur ball on the counter and watches it walk, being extra cautious of the edge of the counter.

you have never been so proud to see this flip in him. you come around the counter and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“i knew you’d come around, you’re a natural.” sunghoon kisses you back and you two begin dinner.

the night ended with sunghoon putting the sleeping kitten to bed, placing the tiny blanket over him. he crawls into bed and into your arms. like tradition, you run your fingers through his hair and kiss his moles.

“i. love. you.” spacing the sentence with kissing a new mole. sunghoon hums with a soft smile. he opens his eyes slowly and gazes up at you. adoring his wife in front of him, he takes his fingers behind your ear to push back your hair and gently rubs your cheek.

“i love you so much.” “and your ability to keep me this in love with you.” sunghoon said as he leans into you. your noses brushing against each other as you stop right before connect his lips with yours.

“you’re the hottest cat dad i know.” you say, to possibly continue the kiss that could have happened on the couch.

“oh really?” the way he spoke those words sent chills down your spine and giggles up your throat. he meet your lips, kissing them satisfyingly.

𓉸ྀི ©vampirehoon

#vampireh𝜗𝜚n #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #husband!sunghoon

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ahqkas · 1 month

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♯ PUPPY PRINCESS ; remus lupin

PAIRING! young!remus lupin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! every gift of yours is something remus tends to cherish, especially your love for creating from nothing (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 3.1k

WARNINGS / TAGS! pure fluff, remus is nothing but smitten and wrapped around your finger

NOTES! autumn’s coming and my obsession with the marauders is slowly defrosting ☹️ all the credits to the pretty devider below belong to @aqualogia !

I. A TANGLED WEB OF YARD AND ADORATION

THE LATE AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH THE TALL WINDOWS of the Gryffindor common room, casting a warm glow across the stone walls. You're sitting comfortably on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, with your hands working steadily, creating a rhythm with the yarn and crochet hook. The familiar motion of looping the yarn through the hook brought a sense of calm, a quiet joy that you've always found in crafting.

Remus Lupin sat nearby with a thick textbook in his lap, but the words kept getting tangled in his mind due to his lack of attention on the subject. He was supposed to be studying — there's a Transfiguration exam tomorrow that he really should be preparing for — but he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from you. He watched the way your hands moved, the smooth, practiced motions that seem to come so naturally to you. There was something about it that fascinated him, though he couldn't quite put it into words.

"You're staring again," you say, glancing up and meeting his dark eyes with a small, knowing smile. Your tone is light, teasing. You're used to it now — how his attention drifts from his studies to you whenever you're engrossed in one of your hobbies.

Your boyfriend looked slightly embarrassed, flushed cheeks caught in the act, but he smiled back at you. "Sorry," he replied, though it didn't sound as sincere as it should. He wasn't sorry for admiring you and your skills. "I just . . . I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" you asked, your hands never pausing in their work. The yarn slides smoothly through your fingers.

"Make it look so easy," he said, genuinely curious. "It's like you're weaving magic with your hands."

You gave him a soft chuckle at that, shaking your head as you finish off another row. "It's not that complicated, really. It's just practice. Anyone can learn if they have the patience."

The werewolf nodded thoughtfully, though he was not entirely convinced he could manage it. The heavy textbook was set down, the revision long forgotten. "What are you making this time?" he asked you, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity piqued which charmed a smile on your lips.

"A scarf," you answer, keeping your focus on the yarn as you hold up the length of your still unfinished work that's slowly but surely taking shape. The stitches were tight and even and the colour of the fabric shined in the fire of the fireplace. "Winter's coming soon, and I figured you could use something warm."

Remus' brows lifted in surprise, eyes flickering between your face and the scarf in making. "For me?"

"Of course," you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I wanted to make something you'd actually use. Plus, it's a good excuse to work with this colour."

He couldn't help but linger at the scarf — a deep burgundy, the color of his tie, which reminded him of autumn leaves and Gryffindor pride. It was a shade he'd always liked, and the thought that you'd chosen it specifically with him in mind made him feel a quiet sense of gratitude.

"Thank you," he said quietly now with sincerity lacing his every word. "I really appreciate it."

You looked up then, meeting his gaze with a smile, the kind of smile that made something warm unfurl in his chest. Something unspoken passed between the two of you — an understanding, a quiet connection that didn't need words to be felt. "I enjoy making things for people I care about," you replied. "And you can't go wrong with a good scarf."

There was a comfortable silence as you returned to your work, and Remus found himself drawn once again to the way your hands moved with such practiced grace. He'd always been fascinated by the kind of magic that doesn't come from a wand — the quiet, everyday magic that you brought to life with your hobbies. He watched as the yarn twisted and turned, forming something tangible and warm, something that wasn't there just moments before.

After a while, you glanced at him again, your eyes thoughtful. "You know," you started, voice casual but inviting, "if you ever want to learn, I could show you how to crochet. It's not as difficult as it looks."

Remus hesitated, caught off guard by the offer. He'd never thought of himself as particularly crafty — his talents have always leaned more towards theoretical things, like books and spells. But the idea of sitting with you, learning something new together, was oddly appealing. "I don't know if I'd be any good at it," he admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. A part of him was terrified his hands weren't stable enough for such work as your own were.

But you just shrugged lightly, focus still on the scarf as it grew longer with each stitch. "It's not about being good at it," you exclaimed. "It's just . . . something calming to do with your hands. A way to focus your mind on something simple."

The werewolf considered this, watching the way your hands moved with a steady, comforting rhythm. There was a kind of peace in it, a meditative quality that he couldn't help but find appealing. "Maybe I'll give it a try," he said finally, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "If you promise not to laugh at me."

"I would never. I think you might surprise yourself."

The hours slipped by as the common room gradually emptied, students heading off to their dormitories as the evening wore on. The fire burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls, but you and Remus remained where you were, content in each other's company. The scarf in your hands grew longer with each passing moment, the yarn slowly transforming into something tangible, something with weight and warmth.

Eventually, you finished your work, holding up the completed scarf for Remus to see. The stitches were beautifully done, the pattern simple yet elegant, and the color — rich and deep — seemed to glow in the firelight. "What do you think?" you asked, a hint of pride in your voice at your boyfriend's speechless reaction.

Remus reached out, his fingers brushing over the soft fabric. It's perfect, he thinks, not just because of how it looked, but because of what it represented — your care, your thoughtfulness, the time and effort you put into making something just for him. "It's . . . perfect," he opened his heart to you, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

You gave him a sweet smile, pleased with his reaction. "I'm glad you like it."

II. THE ART OF CLAY

THE SOUND OF RAIN ECHOED SOFTLY AGAINST THE GLASS WINDOWS OF THE HOGWARTS GREENHOUSE, creating a gentle rhythm that blended with the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional drip of water from overhead plants. The air was thick with the earthy scent of wet soil and blooming herbs, an atmosphere so comforting to you that made the space feel like a world apart from the usual hustle and bustle of the castle. You were seated at a small worktable near the back, a lump of cool, gray clay before you, your hands already beginning to shape it into something more.

Remus Lupin stood quietly nearby, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually as he simply watched you. There was a sparkle in his gaze, the kind that comes from someone who finds fascination in the smallest details, in the quietest moments. His curiosity was piqued by the sight of you working with the clay, your hands moving with a practiced confidence that hints at countless hours spent honing your craft.

The room was otherwise empty, giving the two of you a rare moment of privacy amidst the bustling school and your friends who were constantly full of life (named James Potter and Marlene McKinnon). The greenhouse, usually a place for Herbology classes, had became your private studio, a place where you could indulge in your love for pottery — a hobby that was as grounding as it was creative.

"Do you ever get tired of making things?" Remus asked, breaking the comfortable silence. There was no hint of judgment in his tone, only genuine curiosity. He'd seen you immersed in various crafts before — crocheting, jewelry making — but each time, you seemed as passionate as ever.

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Not really," you replied to his question, your hands still working the clay. "It's like . . . I don't know, a way to clear my mind. I like the idea of starting with something so simple, like a lump of clay, and turning it into something that wasn't there before."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, his eyes following the movement of your hands as they smoothed the surface of the clay. There was a certain grace in the way you worked, a rhythm that was almost hypnotic to him. "What are you making today?" he questioned again, this time moving closer to get a better look.

"A bowl," you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your fingers pressed gently into the clay, shaping the walls of the bowl with careful precision. "Something simple, but useful. I thought it might be nice to have one for our common room. We could use it to hold things — keys, cigarettes, chocolate frogs."

A charming smile appeared on his lips at that, the idea of something as ordinary as a bowl bringing a sense of homeliness to the often chaotic Gryffindor common room. "That sounds like a good idea," the praise left him naturally when it came to you, pulling up a stool to sit beside you. "Do you mind if I watch?"

"Not at all," you replied, glancing at him briefly before returning your focus to the clay. "But be warned, it's not as exciting as it looks."

Remus didn't agree. He'd always been intrigued by the way you found joy in creating things, in bringing something new into the world with your hands. As he watched, he noticed the subtle movements of your fingers, the way they coaxed the clay into shape, turning a shapeless lump into something with form and purpose. It was a process that seemed almost magical to him, though he knew it was nothing more than skill and practice.

The rain continued to patter against the windows, a soothing backdrop to the sound of your hands working the clay. Every so often, you dipped your fingers into a small bowl of water, smoothing out imperfections and keeping the clay pliable. Remus had never seen you look so beautiful; hands dirty, hair messy, and you clothed in one of his favorite sweaters.

"You make it look easy," he commented after a while, his voice low so as not to disturb your concentration.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "It's not always. There's a lot that can go wrong — air bubbles, cracks, the clay drying out too quickly. But that's part of the fun, I suppose. It keeps you on your toes."

He gave you a nod, understanding the appeal in a way.

After a while, you sat back slightly, examining your work with a critical eye. The bowl was nearly complete, its shape smooth and even, the walls sturdy yet delicate. "What do you think?" you asked, turning to Remus with a small smile.

He leaned in closer, studying the bowl with a thoughtful expression. "It's an excellent work," he said, his voice sincere. "You've really got a talent for this."

You blushed slightly at the compliment, but there was a pleased look in your eyes. "Thanks, love. I'm glad you think so."

III. CRAFTING CONNECTIONS THROUGH SILVER AND STONE

THE CASTLE WAS QUIET AS EVENING SETTLED OVER HOGWARTS, the usual loud of students giving way to a serene calm. The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, with only the flickering fire casting warm shadows across the burgundy rugs and tapestries. You were seated at a small table by the window, a soft light of the moon illuminating your workspace, where an array of tiny tools, shimmering beads, and delicate chains lay spread out before you.

Remus Lupin sat nearby, his attention drawn to the intricate work you were doing. He had always been fascinated by your hobbies, each one opening a door to your soul. But there was something particularly mesmerizing about watching you make jewelry — something in the way you handled the delicate materials with such care, transforming them into beautiful, wearable art. Watching your smaller hands mend the delicate pieces stirred a feeling in his chest.

"Doesn't it get frustrating?" the werewolf asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes following the careful movements of your fingers. "Working with such tiny pieces, I mean."

You smiled softly, not taking your eyes off the silver chain you were holding. "Sometimes," you admitted, carefully threading a small brown stone onto the chain. "But there's something satisfying about it too. It's like solving a puzzle, finding the right combination of stones and metals to make something that feels just right, y’know."

He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to the array of materials on the table. Tiny glass beads of various colors sparkled in the firelight, alongside small stones and bits of silver wire that would soon be part of some new creation of yours. "It's impressive," he said quietly, more to himself than to you. "How you can take something so small and turn it into something so . . . meaningful."

You glanced up at him, a pleased smile on your lips. "Thank you, Remus. I think that's what I love about it — how something so simple can become something special, something that can be important to someone."

He watched as you carefully threaded a few more stones onto the chain, your fingers moving with the kind of ease that came from years of practice. There was a kind of magic in it, he thought — a different kind from what they learned in class, but no less powerful. It was a magic that didn't come from wands or spells, but from the heart and soul, from the desire to create something beautiful and meaningful.

"What are you making now?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he leaned in a bit closer.

"A bracelet," you replied, holding up the nearly finished piece for him to see. It was simple yet elegant, made of fine silver links with small brown and black stones interspersed between them. The stones caught the light as you turned the bracelet in your hand, their colors shifting subtly in the firelight. "I thought it might make a nice gift for someone."

Remus took in the bracelet, admiring the craftsmanship, the way the silver and stones complemented each other perfectly. "It's beautiful," he said, a note of awe in his voice. "Who's it for?"

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his. There was a softness in your gaze, something almost shy. "I was thinking . . . maybe you'd like it," you said, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

For a moment, Remus was taken aback, surprised by the offer. He hadn't expected you to be making it for him, but now that he knew, he felt a warmth spread through his chest, a feeling of gratitude and something more, something deeper. "For me?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I wanted to make something that would remind you of our time together," you said, a hint of nervousness in your tone. "Something you could keep with you."

Remus felt his heart swell with emotion, a mixture of surprise, gratitude, and something else — something tender and profound. He looked at the bracelet again, seeing not just the beauty of the piece, but the thought and care that had gone into it, the meaning behind every detail. "I . . . I don't know what to say," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's . . . it's perfect. Thank you."

You smiled, the tension easing from your posture as you saw the genuine appreciation in his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you said, your voice soft. "It's not much, but I wanted to give you something special. Something that's from the heart."

Remus reached out, his larger fingers brushing against the cool silver links as you handed the bracelet to him. The metal was smooth under his fingertips, the stones cool and solid. He could feel the weight of it, not just the physical weight, but the emotional significance it carried. "It's more than just 'something,'" he said, his voice quiet but firm. "It means a lot to me. Really."

You watched as he carefully slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the silver and stones catching the light as they settled into place. There was something incredibly intimate about the moment, the quiet exchange of a gift that held so much meaning. It was more than just a piece of jewelry to him.

As Remus fastened the clasp, he looked at you with deep, unspoken gratitude in his eyes. The bracelet fit perfectly, resting comfortably against his skin, the cool metal and smooth stones a constant, reassuring presence. "I'll treasure it," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a sense of contentment that came from knowing you had given him something truly meaningful. "I'm glad," you replied softly, your eyes meeting his.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of the curtains as a breeze drifted through the window. There was a sense of peace in the air, a quiet understanding that didn't need words to be felt. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the evening, he knew that this — these simple, heartfelt moments with you — were what he would carry with him through the darkest nights, a light to guide him through whatever lay ahead.

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flowerandblood · 8 months

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Appearances (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagements ]

[ description: All Aemond cares about is the recognition and attention of his younger sister, but she seems to ignore him and shun him, driving him to an ever-increasing state of withdrawal and dark, grim agony. Something inside him snaps when his grandsire announces that it is time to marry her off. Sexual tension, understatements due to lack of communication, obsession. ]

This oneshot has its sequels: Experience & Refinement & Sacrifices, but can be read as a stand-alone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him, though because of this his throat squeezed in pain and rage, that his little sister was simply afraid of him. He couldn't explain her behaviour otherwise – the way she quickly looked away, meekly lowering her eyelids adorned with her long, dark lashes, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture as she met his gaze.

She was the only one who didn't have their pearly white hair, the only one who didn't have the eye colour due to the gods.

Even when she witnessed his duels with Criston Cole, when she could see how much he had changed, how skilful he was in wielding his sword, defeating him again and again, she did not congratulate him – she turned and left the square, no longer bestowing even a single glance on him.

Confronted again with her wordless rejection, he thought in the back of his head that she was disgustingly ordinary with her dark hair and eyes inherited from their mother, that she could be the daughter of some commoner walking up to his knees in the mud feeding his pigs.

However, his great annoyance usually lasted only a moment, after which he went back to his state of despair.

He didn't follow her, wanting to spare himself this humiliation and discomfort, feeling his heart twitching in rage, in shame that he so desperately desired her attention, a few words of recognition, one warm look.

He saw her one morning through the window speaking to her servant, gesturing vigorously and laughing pearly, joyful; he thought with regret that she was consorting with people who might take advantage of her, who cared only about her position.

That if she were his he would protect her from them.

She would be safe.

She was so careless, innocent, wise and naïve at the same time, looking at him with those big dark eyes of hers when someone in her presence annoyed him, begging him with her gaze not to explode.

His tongue was like a blade, cutting anyone who approached him – she knew this and was afraid to open her mouth in front of him, imagining for sure how cruel his reaction would be.

He didn't know how to explain to her that he would never hurt her, his sweetest little sister, his greatest joy.

He watched from the distance like a cool, sinister shadow as her fingers intertwined with Helaena's, stretched out side by side on their armrests during supper, observed her leaning towards her with a sweet smile, whispering something tenderly, from which their older sister giggled quietly – there was something mythological in these scenes, making a shiver run down his spine.

He knew that they sometimes met in her chamber and even slept together, confiding in each other about their feminine affairs that were beyond his comprehension, however, he couldn't stop the feeling of burning jealousy that filled his chest when he thought of how he wished it was him she visited at night.

He thought then of how tender he would be towards her, how his arms would enclose her warm, delicate body in his tight, firm embrace, protecting her from anything that might frighten her.

He imagined how wonderful she would smell, her oils teasing his nostrils constantly, sweet and intense – looking at her figure seated next to him he felt the need to bite into her flesh like a ripe fruit.

He thought she would taste like a peach.

When at last they had finished their conversation and her beautiful, soft hand reached for her cup her gaze finally met his – her plump, glistening lips parted slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze frightened her, her breasts quivered in quick, shuddering breaths.

He felt what he saw in his breeches, his length all swollen, demanding her closeness.

Wanting to keep her attention on him he lifted the platter with her favourite dish, sweet cinnamon pie filled inside with apples; he saw that she blinked quickly, her cheeks flushed at the realisation that he knew she favoured them.

He watched her swallow with difficulty, her trembling hand set her goblet aside – his manhood throbbed hard when their fingers brushed in the air as she took the silver platter from him. She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her sweet, plump lips parted to whisper a quiet, barely audible thank you.

He leaned back again, looking at the pleasing profile of her face, her long eyelashes gleaming under the warm candlelight, a drop of sweat on her skin shimmering like a small diamond ran down her neck.

Gods, how he craved her.

He wanted to touch her, stroke her shamelessly exposed back with his large hand, rough from holding the hilt of his sword, and dig his fingertips into her warm, smooth skin, with a subconscious gesture proving to whom she belonged, that she had been his right, his delight and his duty since she was born.

Why didn't she realize this?

He watched with a squeezed throat as she took a piece of pie into her mouth, the involuntary lick of her tongue with which she brushed her lower lip focused all his attention.

The thought that this fleshy lips could in the same way clench around his painfully swollen cock, suck it and squeeze it, barely able to fit it in with her sweet cry of effort.

He grunted, looking away, feeling his length twitching and pushing against the tight material of his breeches.

She didn't look at him again that evening, absorbed in a discussion with their mother and grandfather as he drank Dornish wine, staring dully ahead, its tart aftertaste melting on his tongue.

"I spoke to your mother about the importance of slowly deciding on a suitable candidate for your husband, my love." Began their grandsire with his eyebrow raised in satisfaction, directing his words to his younger sister, who froze in mid-motion – he saw that her hands, in an involuntary reflex of terror, clamped down on the material of her gown.

She remained silent.

"She's still too young, for god's sake." He hissed out feeling rage like a burning fire pulsing through his veins. He grew hot and took another quick, deep sip from his cup, an uncomfortable silence fell around him.

Otto grunted, turning with a creak of wood in his seat, his fingers stretched out and clenched into a fist on the table top in front of him, apparently wondering why such a sudden and aggressive reaction on his part.

"I understand that as an older brother you feel responsible for her safety, however, she is now of the right age and has begun to bleed, and that's why…"

"Father." Muttered their mother, looking at him pleadingly, clearly not wanting him to bring up such intimate and sensitive topics at the table, moreover in the presence of other men.

He saw out of the corner of his eye how his sister dropped her gaze, her dark eyes shining from the tears of shame that had gathered under her lids, her brows arched in pain.

If she had only asked him to marry her he would have done so at once, freed her from this laughable obligation that her marriage to some mere lord would be.

He felt his jaw clench at the thought that no one would ever love her as devotedly, dearly, warmly as he, her blood, her protector, her brother.

"In the coming months, we would like you to meet a few candidates we consider worthy of your hand." Concluded their grandfather, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet; he felt rage filling his chest when he saw that his sister merely nodded her head, accepting her fate without a word of protest, looking down at her plate.

He got up from the table, bitter and furious, leaving the hall without a word, unable to look at her, once again letting his anger take over him, accusing her in his mind.

Her lack of reaction, her lack of opposition, when it was so obvious that her husband could only be him, him, him.

He walked into his chamber, undoing the buckles of his tunic, throwing it angrily to the ground, remaining in only his chemise and breeches. Although he did not usually do so, he reached for the wine jug and poured himself a full cup, grabbing it and sitting down with it in the chair by the fire, tilting his head back, letting out loud sigh.

He shuddered when he heard a quiet, tentative knock on his door – he ran his hand over his face, guessing it was his Queen, as usual wanting to be his voice of reason, to come to him with her stoic calm, explaining to him why he had to accept the responsibilities that faced their family, including those standing before his sister.

He didn't feel like having this discussion, however, he acknowledged with reluctance that he couldn't dismiss his own mother.

"Come in." He said coolly, staring into the flames.

He heard the creak of the door opening and closing a moment later – he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder and froze, feeling his heart stop in his throat at the sight of her, beautiful, teary-eyed, her face all flushed red with pain, her fleshy, plump lips parted in a hastened breath, her brow arched in pain.

"Lēkia (big brother)." She mumbled out with difficulty, choking on her own tears – he stood up at her words looking at her with eye wide open in shock, driven by some sudden emotion, moved that she had come to him as he had always imagined she would, vulnerable and desperate, seeking refuge and a reassurance in his arms.

"Come closer, hāedar (little sister). Come." He whispered softly, extending his hand to her in a gesture of encouragement; she moved tentatively towards him, looking up at him with her wonderfully dark, large eyes, tear drops glittering on her lashes like little stars.

He parted his lips and swallowed loudly when her smooth, warm hand touched his, thought with tenderness that compared to his she was so small, so fragile.

When he dared to lift his other hand to her cheek she twitched, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly, distrustful like a maiden who was afraid of a stranger's touch, simultaneously craving his closeness and fearing it.

He breathed quietly as she let his fingers touch and run over the wonderfully soft, firm skin of her pink cheek, her eyelids closed for a moment, a quiet, sweet sigh leaving her lips.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked in a calm, low, trembling voice, ashamed of how scared he was of her answer, of her rejection.

She looked at him surprised – her lips parted in astonishment as if she didn't know what to reply to his words, her quivering fingers touched his hand stroking her cheek.

"I fear your harsh judgment, brother. It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience." She muttered in shame, lowering her gaze; he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, not believing what he heard, what she confessed to him.

I am afraid of your harsh judgment, brother.

It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience.

How could she think so? Was his eternal desire, his suffering so expressed in his gaze, his facial expressions, his gestures?

Did she perceive his rage at the lack of her closeness as his constant displeasure at the sight of her?

He was horrified by how deep the misunderstanding reached – he didn't know what he should do to fix it now, to reverse it, he ran out of words that could describe what he felt.

How glad he was that she was standing before him now, that she trusted him, that he had adored her from the moment she came into the world, cherished her with a love that was warm, tender and devoted, that he believed she had been born to be his, his sweet joy, his beautiful little sister.

He swallowed loudly, parting her plump, fleshy lips with his thumb, looking at her in emotion, feeling a painful tightness in his throat.

"My sweet sister, where did these words come from? How could I feel anything but adoration towards you?" He asked softly, feeling her whole body quiver at his words – her mouth parted involuntarily, letting his thumb go deeper, between her puffy, sticky lips.

Something changed in her gaze, dreamy and warm, from which he felt heat in his chest and lower abdomen, her fingertips digging into the skin of his palm.

"Ivestragī umbagon issa (let me stay)." She whispered in a trembling, uncertain voice, and he felt his breath caught in his throat, his manhood throbbed aggressively in his breeches at the thought that she wanted to stay in his bed, in his embrace.

His surprised silence made her lower her gaze, ashamed, apparently panicking at the thought of what she had suggested, of how indecent it was, surely thinking that he would now despise her.

"Very well." He muttered quickly, not wanting her to leave his side.

She lifted her hopeful gaze to him and nodded, swallowing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over her wet skin and leaned over her placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.

He took her small hand in his, guiding her towards his bed, sitting down on it with his face towards her, letting her stand over him and decide what would happen next, looking at her pleasant, girlish figure.

It seemed to him that she had no idea what they were doing, whether it was right – he could see thoughts and doubts running across her face, fears of what would happen if their mother found out.

"Come. Do not fret. Your big brother would never hurt you." He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion – he was hot, his heart pounding like mad in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach, a sweet delight of satisfaction spread through his body.

His words emboldened her; she stepped closer to him, standing between his thighs, breathing loudly. He sighed and closed his eyes as she took his face in her soft hands, stroking it for a moment with gentle, slow movements that made his throat dry up; he felt with horror that his cock was completely hard, all swollen and throbbing.

In a gesture of desperation he snuggled into her abdomen, clasping his large hands on her back – he heard her surprised gasp, her hands froze upwards for a moment before they began in a soft, calm motion to stroke his head as if he were a small child.

He closed his eyes, snuggling into her body, the material of her gown pleasantly delicate and soft; he could feel her flesh throbbing from beneath it, her womb that could swell with his inheritance, his dragon seed that could root deep inside her if only she noticed his devotion and love, if only she understood that they had always been destined for each other.

He clenched his fingers tighter on the material of her gown when he felt her lean in, enclosing him in her embrace – his face was locked between her shoulders, her womb and her breasts, enveloping him in her warmth, her hands running down his back with such tenderness and gentleness that he closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on that feeling.

"I am terrified, lēkia." She whispered softly, her breasts trembling in a broken breath – he moved away to look at her, his hand cupped her soft, warm cheek.

"Marry me, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Marry me and I will protect you. I will caress you, adore you, hold you in my arms, I will give you everything." He said in a quivering, low voice, placing the emphasis on the last word, so final, direct, betraying how desperate he was.

She looked at him for a moment, shocked, her lips twitching in disbelief, in terror and something else that shone in her dark eyes, but which he did not comprehend.

"You don't have to do this. Sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled with a blush of shame, as if she thought his suggestion stemmed from his logic and tactics, from helping her not to leave her home, rather than from his feelings.

"How much longer do you want to torment me? Shall I fall on my knees before you and beg?" He asked resentfully, pain emerging from his throat with every word he spoke – her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her breasts began to rise and fall rapidly in accelerated, ragged breathing.

Her face expressed that only now did she realise what he meant.

"Marry me, brother. Marry me and never leave me again." She whispered so quietly that he barely heard her – they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing what had just left their mouths, flushes of shame and doubt burning their cheeks.

He shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she placed her hands on his shoulders and climbed tentatively into his lap, startling him completely – he felt a jolt of heat, his cock so hard that he felt like it was about to explode.

All he felt was a squeeze in his throat and the heavy pounding of his heart when her soft fingers gently grasped his hand, her face blushing with embarrassment, a sigh full of arousal escaped her lips as she pulled her gown up, slipping it slowly between her legs.

They both opened their mouths wide and gasped loudly, surprised apparently at how intimate and shameless this sensation was – he thought in disbelief that she was leaking with desire, her hot opening pulsating restlessly under his fingers, her hand pressing them harder against her quivering flesh, eager to feel him deeper.

"− please − please −" She whimpered, breathing loudly, looking at him pleadingly with her dark eyes full of tears. He stared at her in shock wondering if it was possible that he had made a mistake, that he had misjudged the situation, that contrary to what he thought, she was reciprocating his affection.

His lack of hesitation, his fingertips that dug into her fleshy, hot womanhood surprised her so much that she squealed and hopped up on his lap – he put his free arm around her and held her in place, not letting her escape.

"− easy, little dove − shhhh −" He hushed her, his two fingers sinking into her plump muscles, collecting her moisture that leaked from her thirsty, throbbing core. He stared at her, seeing the expression on her face indicating that this experience had shocked her, sweet, soft moans erupted from her puffy, glistening lips, her hips involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of his hand.

"− that's it − let me take care of you − brothers know what is good for their sisters, don't they? −" He hummed low as if he were speaking to a small child and she only nodded, clearly having trouble concentrating. He sighed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her moist, sweet lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.

He murmured into her mouth with delight, thinking with awe that indeed her skin felt like the flesh of a fruit, wet and sticky to the touch, his fingertips teasing her bud hidden between her folds. He could feel her bouncing in his lap and trembling all over, quivering in his arms as his fingers roamed around that spot, their breaths raspy and loud, full of desire.

"− y-yes − right here, lēkia − mghmm −" She babbled in between their messy, saliva-wet kisses – he dared to slip his tongue between her plump lips answered by her sweet purr of pleasure, his hand all soaked with her juices, his long, slender fingers digging into her skin in circular, sure strokes.

"− just like that − soaking wet for me − issa dōna hāedar (my sweet little sister) −" He cooed in delight, feeling his swollen length pushing impatiently against his breeches, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to feel her, to watch his fat cock open her wide, her tight folds glistening from her moisture.

"− mhm −" She hummed between passionate, deep, ferocious kisses, a combination of their lips, teeth and tongues licking against each other.

She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his fingers slowly made their way inside her, exploring her throbbing, swollen core – his thumb rubbed her her pearl, his fingertips searched intensely for the spot he'd read so much about in books, and when he found it her walls began to clench around him in convulsions, a pathetic whimper escaping her lips.

"− o-oh gods, brother, yes, please, please, please −" She mewled desperately, clasping her hands in his long hair, rising and falling on his fingers with a loud click of her moisture – he grasped the nape of her neck with his free hand and pulled her close, forcing her lips, swollen from his caresses, to join his in sticky, hot kiss.

"− come on, little one − I can feel you are close − thaaat's it, there we go −" He gasped out into her throat when a powerful shudder ran through her body, her moans of delight erupting from her mouth again and again as her hot muscles began to clench greedily around his fingers, sucking him inside, his hand all sticky with her fulfilment.

He was panting loudly along with her, cuddling her quivering body, thinking of how wonderfully warm and fleshy her insides were, how perfectly she would squeeze his cock once he could possess her whole, his sweet wife, filling her to the brim with his seed every night.

He intended to perform his marital duty with passionate devotion.

"− such a good girl − you did so well for me, dōna hāedar −" He praised her, wanting to reassure and soothe her, stroking her soft hair, pressing her face to the hollow of his neck, his hand between her thighs cupped over her pulsing, moist womanhood.

The smell of her wetness, of her flesh, of her sex filled his entire lungs, so lewd, ungodly and wonderfully carnal – his mouth placed involuntarily little butterfly kisses on her beautiful face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in delight and disbelief, her hands clenched on the material of his chemise.

He grasped her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them with tenderness and reverence as his other hand stroked unashamedly her plump bare buttock hidden beneath the material of her gown.

"Now it's my turn."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

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targaryenluvs · 8 months

Text

— HONEYMOON BLISS

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: your relationship with luke was pure joy, but it seems your happiness and love leads to the two of you slipping up.

warnings: none really, fluffy, giggly reader, suspicious percy, flirty luke and annoyed reader, clarisse and chris r detectives, bickering luke and y/n, percabeth crumbs

a/n: it’s coming close to the end, very scary i swear 😭😭 i thought it would take me ages to write this story but i’ve uploaded all chapters in one day and written them lmao

wordcount: 1.2k

taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!

iii. honeymoon bliss

the smile on your face was very wide. in your hand was a red lipstick you’d long forgotten. “what’s that?” luke hovered over you as you jumped back, “announce your comings and goings castellan, you scared the shit out of me.” luke grinned as he leaned against the wall, your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his arms.

his sleeves were rolled, specks of paint all over.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“kill yourself, my peace will last longer.”

“ouch, who hurt you?” luke came closer as you placed the cap on the lipstick, “everybody on earth, how do i look?” it wasn’t too bold, a nice color nonetheless , one of your favourites. “perfect, as always.” you smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips, than his cheek, than his jaw. “okay now run along, peeta.” luke’s face contorted, “hate to break it to you, but i’m luke.”

you slapped your palm against your forehead, “i know, i’m calling you peeta, like from hunger games? he paints and bakes?” luke crossed his arms as he stared at you wondering, “there’s a game for hunger? that’s horrible.” you smiled as you kissed him again, “ill explain later, now go before clarisse murders you for being late.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading out, a salute sent your way as he approached the door, “yes ma’am!”

it wasn’t until it was too late that you’d realised, his face was covered in lipstick. but clarisse and chris noticed straight away. “so, you wanna tell us what you’ve been up to?” chris asked as he continued directing the paint roller up and down. “what are you talking about?” clarisses laugh rung out through the air, “i’m talking about the fact that you’re face is covered in lipstick.”

shit. luke clamoured to the nearest window to view your work, he looked pretty nice, he thought. but the stares from chris and clarisse brought him back, “it’s nothing, get back to painting.” and as much as luke would love to wear the marks, he raised his sleeves to wipe them off.

clarisse would not stop staring at your lips, “yknow, if you wanna kiss me, you could’ve said so.” you said as she shoved your arm, “as gorgeous as you are, no.” you leaned against the palm of your hand, “got your eye on someone? starts with an a? b?” her foot collided with your shin before you could continue you any further.

as you rubbed it up and down you smiled, “duly noted.” clarisse picked at her food, “as much as i love having you here, why are you at our table?” you sighed, “percy takes forever apparently. usually at the idea of food he comes running.” you laughed as percy flicked your ear, “ow! where have you been?” you stood up and walked to your table, not without a wave towards the ares cabin.

“i barely got away from annabeth, she was working me to the bone.” percy’s eyes immediately flicked to the food infront of him. “oh please you’re as skinny as a twig kelpie.” percy tilted his head, “you’re my sister, which means you’re connected to the sea. yet you’re still calling me kelpie? what even is that?” the goblet in your hands currently held liquid gold, otherwise known as mountain dew, “i don’t know kelpie.” you took a sip from your goblet whilst percy inhaled his food.

“hey percy, y/n.” luke’s voice called out as he walked over to the two of you, you practically froze up. you hadn’t seen him all day since he was currently repainting the hermes cabin after someone, (kids from the ares cabin who’d then blamed their siblings for putting them up to it. which caused them to end up at the infirmary and clarisse painting as a punishment) took their masterful artistry from off their page and onto the walls.

“i hate to ask, but i need more people to help me out, percy?” his mouth was currently stuffed full and you couldn’t help but laugh, “the foods not going anywhere perce, and yes he will help, won’t you percy?” your tone wasn’t exactly asking him, but he didn’t want to paint. you could tell by his lack of response that he wasn’t exactly elated. “i’ll talk to him, he’ll come soon enough. you heading up?”

and so percy watched as the two of you walk away, laughing at you tripping over. “shit, you okay bab—,” your head snapped up at the slip, “i’m fine. it’s just my lace.” you interrupted as luke handed you his tray.

luke bent down as you clutched onto his plate and your own, he patted his knee as you rested your foot. he made quick work of your laces, double knotted and all. “what’s that? world record time?” you scoffed, “you wish.” luke feigned shock, “no faith jackson, no faith.” it was a running joke, your last name being jackson. even if it wasn’t, percy was your brother. and you didn’t really mind it, your parents weren’t exactly heartwarming.

“i have faith, in your failure.” he clutched his chest, “you’re killing me here.” you smiled, “good.” chris’s jaw was quite literally hung open, before clarisse shut it and chris mentally ran laps at the fact that she’d touched him. “they’re so together.”

“undeniably.”

“what’s undeniable?”

chris jumped back at percy’s sudden intrusion into the conversation, “cmon man.” percy shrugged, “what’re you guys talking about?” clarisse rolled her eyes, “none of your business, learn some manners and stop butting into conversations.” it was percy’s turn to roll his eyes, before they focused on the two of you.

“her laces are double knotted, they were untied two seconds ago, she never double knots.” chris rose his eyebrows at percy’s observant eyes, “luke tied them.” he turned back to the picnic table as clarisse turned to her siblings. leaving percy to sigh, “guess i’m painting after all.”

i mean, he had to keep an eye on you. right?

percy had been painting for a record time of ten minutes, before you’d managed to get annabeth to take him away so you could be with luke. she’d unsurprisingly caught on pretty quickly, especially when the two of you had accidentally worn eachothers shirts to the bonfire.

“what’re you doing here seaweed brain?”

percy visibly jumped at annabeths voice, to luke’s amusement. “you alright there?” percy’s thumbs up was a quick response as the boy turned to annabeth, his face was beat red. “hey, annabeth. what’s up?” his voice crack caused luke to laugh, and for percy to roll his eyes.

“i need someone to train with.”

“that’s nice.”

“i’m choosing you.”

“that’s not nice.”

annabeth crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor. she was waiting for him to give in, and her harsh stare was more than enough for him to run after her. you walked to luke with a smile, he was currently bent over as he dabbed his brush in the paint. “nice ass castellan.” luke grinned at your voice, “thanks, yours is… nice i guess.” you punched his arm.

“i think we should go swimming tomorrow.”

“you think?” your eyes flitted back up to his, before returning to painting.

“yes! thank you. i’ll pack everything don’t worry. we should bring the camera.”

“who said i agreed?”

“you didn’t say no, you didn’t shake your head, nothing indicating towards a no. you said, ‘you think?’ you’re asking me if i really want to go, and i do.”

you couldn’t help the smile that came over your face, dam, luke castellan knew you like the back of his hand. “if you feel like skinny dipping, i’m not against it.”

“castellan!” your voice was shrill as you chastised the man, accidentally flicking paint up at him as your hand waved around, his smirk was undeniably devious.

“oh it’s on.” he took his roller and ran it across your face as you shrieked, “i’m going to murder you!”

#percy jackson x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic

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logansdoll · 1 month

Note

Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again

sunflower

part three of "37"

CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.

"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."

Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.

He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...

"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."

"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."

Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.

"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.

Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.

"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."

But Logan didn't buy it.

Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.

Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.

And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.

It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.

Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.

A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.

Your tears of joy when he proposed.

Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.

Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.

He missed it all.

And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.

"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."

His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.

"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."

The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.

He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.

'Let's hope he survives...'

"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."

Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.

"Now... try not to move."

Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.

He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.

"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.

"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."

"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.

"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.

You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."

Yes...

"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."

"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."

"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.

It's all coming back...

"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."

His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"

Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.

"You're... pregnant?"

You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.

But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."

Wait...

"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"

"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."

With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.

Pop!

Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.

You dislocated his finger.

Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.

"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.

Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.

In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.

And she wasn't even a minute old yet.

I have—

"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.

Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.

'James...'

Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.

She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.

Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.

"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.

"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.

'Laura...'

The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..

Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.

"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.

Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.

"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."

Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.

Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.

Every birthday.

Every boo-boo.

Every first.

Slowly but surely, they were all returning.

Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.

"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.

He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.

After all this time, your husband was truly whole.

Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.

taglist !!

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#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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shaisuki · 10 months

Text

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ─── MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.

when toji entered his shared home with you — he can hear the crying of his son. it hasn't stop since he left to get the medicine prescribed by his son's pediatrician. fever was it.

soft footsteps echoing in the floor. toji removing his coat and went to your bedroom. there he sees you. standing in front of the window. moonlight shining through it giving you a halo effect on you. he would be awestruck at you but his son's wailing had been relentless.

his baby with you, flushed skin with tears rolling endlessly in his chubby cheeks. a fever relief pad for babies pasted in his forehead to ease the heat of his fever. he watched as you cooed, rub the back of your baby but still it was useless.

toji sighs. it was rough. it wasn't all shit and giggles when parenting and seeing his baby isn't laughing or doing the same thing all over again plus you. exhaustion visible in your face and tiredness all over your body tending to his little boy. you didn't even notice him and before toji could take a step he hears you hum before you began to sing a familiar tune you always sing when you were pregnant with megumi.

“moon, a hole of light~” you began to sing the first verse and megumi's wailing turn to sniffles upon hearing your voice. the tears rolling in his cheeks turning into drops like dew in leaves after rain. the song hasn't been sung since your pregnancy and megumi stares at you wide eyed. the green in his irises similar to his father turning into one of calmer one.

you raised megumi to distract him while you continue to sing. “cause my love is mine, all mine~” his fingers making grabby motions to you and toji is entranced how you manage to calm your sick baby. “i love mine, mine, mine~” your voice soft. singing the song like a lullaby intended to heal the sick and mend broken hearts and the scarred man gazing at his son and especially to his wife can't help but to feel warm and giddy inside.

“nothing in the world belongs to me~” you continue to sing. your baby eyes wide while he stares at his mother. “but my love mine, all mine, all mine~” placing your son's body in your chest and his head into your shoulder. his breathing softening with hiccups. your palm rubbing his back to soothe the ache and megumi thankfully calmed down. sighing a small smile graces in your lips before bestowing a chaste kiss to his head. hair spiky and you softly laugh imagining how toji would look with his hair spiked up.

you began to sing the second verse and then you turned around to see toji. “my baby, here on earth~” he can see the words forming in your lips added by your angelic voice and he didn't know if he could love you better when you look at him to sing the words intended for him. “showed me what my heart was worth~....” the volume of your voice decreasing not breaking eye contact with your husband and then you greeted him. “toji.”

“megumi finally calmed down but the fever is still there. hopefully it'll be gone by morning.” you say. rocking back and forth to further your baby's comfort. “let me take it from here.” extending his arms and you slowly placed your baby in his. toji isn't good at it. stabbing a man's head is easier than carrying his blood and flesh but toji tries. be a good father and husband in which his father wasn't. it's different now. he thinks to himself. he wasn't alone. he have you and toji intended to make it this way until.... forever.

you rest your head in his shoulder while your hands softly brush megumi's hair. checking his temperature with worry etched in your face. “our child is strong.” toji comforts you. another feat he doesn't know he's capable of and the word our. you and him with your pride and joy resting in his chest. “he is.” smiling softly at your baby.

toji peered at you. his wife stronger than anything else. caring and loving with the voice that can touch one's very soul. calms the storms in its wake and toji thinks back on what good deed he must had done to deserve you. to deserve this life but nothing else matters with you and his life and this little brat.

and toji knows that he doesn't have love in him but now, he have and he intends to have it. to give it to you until there's nothing left in him cause his love didn't exist without you in his life.

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji imagine #toji x reader #baby megumi #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi

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rebelliousneferut · 2 months

Text

long-distance misunderstandings | jude bellingham x verstappen!reader

summary; a compromising photo that poses a threat to your relationship with jude

genre; angst, fluff

face claim; annie schröter

note; english is not my first language.

as soon as i saw the photo i knew i had to write something about it

masterlist!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

wagsgossips

liked by y/nverstappen, yourbestfriend, footballwags and others

wagsgossips the 21 y/o real madrid star was seen last night in california in the company of his england teammate trent alexander arnold. but it was not that that caught our attention, but his closeness with a girl whose identity we still do not know.

jude bellingham has been in a romantic relationship with y/n verstappen, the younger sister of the triple world champion in formula 1.

are there problems in paradise? follow me so you don't miss any news

view comments

y/njudefans you are creating drama where there is none. it is a simple photo and we don't know the context behind it.

username he is a footballer, that already makes him a cheater

username i agree

vertappenssource was max's warning not clear enough?

username i saw it coming, she deserves better

username poor y/n:( i always thought she looked more in love than him

username for god's sake, stop assuming things and creating meaningless gossip

sunshine streamed through the window of our shared madrid apartment, casting a warm glow on everything it touched. except me. my phone, usually buzzing with life, lay silent on the coffee table. the cheerful chirping of birds outside mocked the turmoil brewing within me. a single picture, a single stolen moment, had shattered my world.

jude was in california for a commercial shoot. missing him terribly, i was holding down the fort back in madrid. social media, my usual source of joy, had become a minefield. a gossip page had exploded with a photo: jude, seemingly handsy with a random girl at a party. the caption screamed betrayal. my phone had become a vessel of concern, overflowing with messages from worried friends and fans.

"he wouldn't do that," i whispered, denial laced with a sliver of doubt. i knew Jude. i knew his loyalty, his unwavering love and i knew how harmful the networks could be. yet, the photo gnawed at me, a seed of suspicion taking root.

i decided to take my phone, just because i knew how worried my brother would be until now and i had to talk to him. and almost as if he read my mind, a video call from him came in

"hello liefje," he muttered, almost as if he was expecting me to explode at any moment. "i know how things may look right now, talk to jude before you do anything rash, you know how the media is."

"I know, it just took me by surprise. and I'm not going to lie, it hurt me a little but i know there is an explanation behind it." i told him, even though it wasn't a compromising photo, seeing him so close to another woman had made me think.

"in any case, let me know and i'll go beat him up." max answered me, pretending to hit his fists which made me genuinely laugh.

after talking to max for a while i felt calmer, but i still knew that i had to talk to jude, who i had not responded to for hours because i knew that my feelings were going to betray me.

days bled into one another. calls from jude went unanswered, my voicemails a silent plea for explanation. the silence stretched, a suffocating weight on my chest. i retreated into myself, a fortress of hurt and confusion.

then, the door creaked open, shattering the suffocating silence. jude, his face etched with worry, rushed in, his arms outstretched for me. i flinched, the photo flashing in my mind.

"where have you been?" he sighed, relief washing over his features. "why haven't you been answering my calls?"

his voice, laced with concern, chipped away at the walls i'd built. tears welled up in my eyes, a torrent threatening to burst. i thrust my phone at him, the photo accusingly displayed on the screen.

jude's brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at the picture. understanding dawned, followed by a wave of frustration.

"baby, i know what this looks like, but she was there for a photo. the media just took everything out of context, i would never be able to lie to you, you know." shame colored my cheeks.

"i should have called you," he admitted, his voice laced with regret.

i reached out, taking his hand in mines. "i should have trusted you," i whispered, the words heavy with unspoken hurt.

the silence that followed wasn't suffocating anymore. it was filled with the promise of a new beginning. we spent the night talking, clearing the air, the misunderstanding dissolving in the warmth of shared apologies and renewed trust.

the next morning, i woke up to the gentle sunlight and the feeling of jude's arm wrapped around me. he pulled me closer, his lips brushing against my ear.

"maybe next time, we travel together," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.

i smiled, a genuine one this time. "no more long-distance misunderstandings," i agreed, snuggling closer.

the internet storm eventually subsided, replaced by messages of support and well-wishes. our love story, a little richer for having weathered a storm, continued, a testament to the power of communication and trust.

judebellingham uploaded to their story;

[caption; my one and only]

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kykyonthemoon · 5 months

Text

Nightmares

When nightmares strike, you are the sole source of warmth that could help him overcome his inner turmoil.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

(Caleb, Rafayel, Zayne and Dawnbreaker, Xavier and Glitch!Xavier)

ಇ. Tags: hurt/comfort, angst with a little fluff, emotional hurt, comfort

ಇ. Word count: 3k7

ಇ. Requested anonymously.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

Pic from X

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

It was a sunny afternoon when he returned to his old house.

That place still had a modest beauty, the kind of beauty that made family members feel sad every time they left. It was so deeply engraved in his mind that with every breath, he knew he was closer and closer to returning home.

There, would be someone always waiting for him.

The door creaked when opened. Caleb walked inside. The familiar smell of food and the sound of cooking in the kitchen were always the things that impressed him the most. He continued in that direction till he noticed a familiar figure sitting at the dining table, back to the aisle.

Caleb grinned and spoke your name. You did not reply. He went forward, putting one hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

Your lifeless eyes glanced up at him.

"Pipsqueak? What's wrong?"

You did not respond. You slowly rose up and entered the kitchen. Why was this place so dark and cold? Caleb failed to recall the house being this vast and gloomy.

"Where are you going? I'm back now, pipsqueak?

You halted. The warm sunlight poured down on him through the window, but where you stood just a few steps away from him, everything was in darkness.

Even you.

“You only came home now…” You spoke, but your voice didn't contain any emotion. You were always the one who ran into his arms when he came home after long journeys away! Why were you being so distant then?

“Pipsqueak…”

Caleb reached out to you. How he wanted to touch you! He wanted to hold you in his arms and if he had to beg your forgiveness for leaving you, he would definitely do so.

He had been gone for too long.

You looked at him. Tears began to fall and your face showed little emotion. Not joy, but resentment. You became distorted and writhed as if fire surrounded your body.

“You've been gone for too long!”

You screamed out in pain. Caleb quickly rushed towards you, but it seemed like a force was holding him back, making him unable to move. Just like that, he could only open his eyes and watch you burn. The kitchen was on fire. The house was on fire. Everything was on fire.

“You've been gone too long, Caleb!” You shouted. Your tears turned into blood as your body burnt in the flames. “You left me alone! You abandoned our home!”

The walls cracked, the windows exploded and debris flew all around, cutting you, cutting him. The ceiling began to collapse. But there was nothing Caleb could do. He just cried.

“Pipsqueak… Please…”

“You… left me… here...”

Your plaintive screams were swallowed by fire. When he finally was able to reach out and touch you, there was nothing left there but a burned corpse.

The fire disappeared. The cozy house in Caleb's memory had become ruins. He clutched your corpse, which was scorched black and was disintegrating into dust. The sobbing inside him turned into a protest against himself.

He left, because he thought it was the best thing for you.

When it all came back, to this place, many years ago, he had caused the house to explode. To you, he had been dead since then. He didn't have time to say goodbye. But he only had to do it to ensure your safety.

In the end, he could not save you. He could not save himself.

Still, you left this world. Still, you turned into ashes. Who did this to you; it was not the matter. Not when you had already died the day he left.

Caleb yelled with anguish. He lost you, he lost his home. The one thing that kept him going was gradually vanishing, soaring with the wind and never returning to him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Pipsqueak!”

Caleb shouted. He opened his eyes to see the familiar bedroom ceiling, which was dimly lit by street lights outside the window and visible through the curtains.

Beside him, you turned over. With your eyes still closed, one hand struck his chest.

“What now?… Waking me up in the middle of the night…” You said in a sleepy voice. Caleb grabbed your hand and turned around to hug you. Only when he felt your warmth and buried his face in the scent of your hair could he calm down.

“It's nothing, pipsqueak…” He whispered. “It was just a nightmare… Sorry for waking you…”

You breathed evenly in a straight position on the bed. Your mouth grumbled something like: "Idiot... You're a grown-up now, and you're still afraid of nightmares..."

Caleb smiled softly. He gave you an even tighter embrace. "Yes. I'm such an idiot. I'm so terrified of nightmares every time I have to leave you."

“But I'm right here. Now will you let me go back to sleep?”

“Just let me hold you a little longer…” He whispered as he put his hand beneath the pillow and softly drew you into his loving arms.

You were real in front of his eyes.

And he had no intention of allowing you to vanish like in that dream again.

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Waves crashed onto the shore in regular rhythms. The twisted moon overhead sent a feeble light into the sea, engulfing the two little figures standing by it. The water had reached their knees, and the two were leisurely dancing together.

Spinning. Around and around. Magically shimmering water droplets continued to soar high with each stride. You smiled pleasantly at him. That night, you became his bride.

The celebration was over. Only the two of you remained together, from now until eternity. You were so beautiful, so perfect. Your love for him was as pure as your smile.

And he should have felt happy.

He should have, because after all, he had got you and this perfect ending. But was this really the end?

He gazed at you with melancholy eyes. You smiled heartily as you whirled around. Sea water surged up high, bathing your entire body in a vivid crimson color. The entire water surface became the color of blood.

You were still dancing, as if the pungent odor of death gave you delight. You were immersed in blood when he gazed at you. Hatred was the only thing burning in his heart at that time.

You swayed a little farther, then turned towards him. Your arms stretched out as you called affectionately:

“Rafayel! Hurry. Come with me!”

He moved closer. He was strolling through a pool of blood from his own kind. Lemurian blood was dispersed over the waters.

Unbeknownst to you, as you turned your back on Rafayel, one of his hands was wrapped around your waist, the other brandishing a knife.

“I like this place. Can we stay here forever?” You said, as if you didn't care about the blood gushing at your feet.

"Alright." Rafayel replied in a cold voice. “If you like it here, we'll stay.”

You leaned your head back with joy, resting on his chest. You were so little, yet you had a powerful heart. So gorgeous. He only wanted to strangle it, tear it out of your chest, and toss it into the deep sea.

He wanted you to pay the price.

You closed your eyes and hummed the melody he once sang for you. How foolish of him! He had given you everything—his love, his life, his whole kingdom... Everything was ruined by your hands.

Now, he shall take it all back.

Rafayel raised your chin and let you stare at him for a long while. You were smiling still. But he swung the sharp blade high, plunging into your heart.

In your eyes was terror and agony. Tears streamed from the corners of your eyes, but he still held your chin in his palm, making you unable to look away as his other hand forced the hilt of the dagger, deeper into your heart.

“Rafayel… Why… Why?…”

That was all you could say before the vivid red blood from your heart spread to his palm, spilling into the sea and merging with the blood of the Lemurians.

He should have been satisfied. He should have been thrilled since he carried out his vengeance.

But he simply felt broken.

When he tossed your lifeless corpse into the water, it seemed like he had died too that very moment.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Rafayel!!!… Stop… I can't… breathe… Rafayel!…”

You pinched Rafayel's cheek hard; he was sleeping on your chest. His weight prevented you from breathing normally. The ache awoke him. White pearls dropped from the corners of his eyes.

“Rafayel?…”

You frowned and watched him slowly rose up, both hands resting on your pillow. When he lowered his head, the radiant pearls continued to rain on your face and the bed.

“Hey… What's wrong?” You lifted your hands to caress his cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

“I… just had a nightmare…”

Rafayel gasped. It must have been a really horrific nightmare to make him this way. He fell asleep, his body was all over you, and then he started weeping. You had never seen him like this, and it concerned you.

"What did you dream about?" Your arms curled around Rafayel's neck, bringing him closer. He hesitated, as if he didn't want you to know, then revealed:

“In my dream, I had to kill the person I loved.”

Silence filled the room. The sky over your head was twinkling with stars. Rafayel's bedroom was filled with the lovely sound of the sea. You rubbed your face into the crook of his neck and murmured:

“I trust Rafayel will never harm me.”

“Are you sure? Even I don't know... The person in the dream... It's not me..."

"That's right." You rubbed his sweaty back. “That person is definitely not you. You know, people say dreams are the opposite of reality. What you saw will not happen.”

Rafayel was calmer, however, you still felt his body trembling in your arms.

“I won't allow that to happen…” He replied. “Having to end the life of the person I love… It is far more painful than being stabbed in the heart by that same person…”

“Rafayel.” You said in a serious tone. You held Rafayel's face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. His hair was tangled, and pearls were no longer pouring from his eyes, but they remained red. “I don't know what will happen in the future, but as long as I still breathe, I will never hurt you.”

Rafayel gazed at you for a time before gently smiling. “That's a promise between the two of us then.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

“Zayne… So cold… I'm… so cold…”

Zayne helped you up, quickly wrapping his thick coat around you. His hands stroked your body repeatedly to keep you warm. But you were growing colder. Your breath slowly escaped your body as the sorrow smothered his heart

“No… Wake up… Don't sleep! Please!… Don't sleep now…”

Zayne's scarred and bloody hand clumsily held on to you. So tight. He wanted to give you all his warmth. But did he even have any warmth left?

“It's useless.”

The voice sounded as if it had just escaped his mind. Zayne turned around. Behind him stood Grim Reaper, another Zayne dressed in a cloak as black as the night. Cold and cruel.

“You know you can't save her.”

"Shut up!" Zayne's shouts resonated across the wind and snow. He would never leave you alone in this cold.

Yet Grim Reaper's voice still echoed:

“You know why she died.”

Trembling, Zayne gradually dropped his gaze to the girl in his arms. In the center of your chest, bright, sharp pieces of ice were developing more and more.

"No… NO!" Zayne screamed. His palm touched the shards, causing them to tear into his skin. Bleeding. “I will save her! I must save her!”

He breathed into your numbed hand. But the more he touched you, the greater the ice formed around your body.

“Give up.” Grim Reaper spoke again. Zayne ignored him, despite the fact that they looked absolutely the same.

Nightmare. He had always been his nightmare. Perhaps in another universe, he was the Grim Reaper. And he felt like he was progressively becoming the Grim Reaper as you left this life, leaving him behind.

“Stay with me, please… Open your eyes and look at me….” Zayne begged over her corpse. His tears turned into drops of ice. They fell onto your body and shattered.

You could no longer hear his cries.

"You cannot save her." Grim Reaper said. He was bending down on one knee beside you, on the other side of Zayne. His hand in the black glove brushed across your frost-covered face, as if he, too, was in grief. "After all, you cannot save yourself."

"Leave!" Zayne yelled in rage and suffering. His embrace of you became more intense, as if he wanted to take you away from Grim Reaper's reach. He grinned with bitterness.

"Remember. You are the one who killed her.”

Zayne shook his head, repeatedly. Everything in front of his eyes drifted away. Grim Reaper also vanished. There were only you and him remaining.

He had murdered you.

You and he promised to get through this together. He would save your dying heart, and you would help him in his escape from the curse of his Evol. It was a curse. He was unable to control it, and there came calamity.

Help you? No, he was not your savior. He was your death.

Zayne heard Grim Reaper's laugh - his own laugh - echoing in his thoughts. Cruel yet full of bitterness.

The snowstorm came, but it could not bury his sin and regrets.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you came into Dr. Zayne's office during lunch break, you noticed the temperature was unusually low.

You discovered Zayne asleep on the sofa. His body trembled, he broke out in a cold sweat, and his mouth moved without any word heard. You even caught a tear falling from the corner of his eye.

“Zayne? Are you having a nightmare?” You shook him by the shoulders. His entire body felt freezing. The nearest window was covered in frost. You started to panic. But no matter how you attempted to rouse him up, he failed to hear you.

You had to sit on the sofa, placing his head on your lap. You caressed his hair, patted his shoulders and head while comforting him:

"It's alright. I'm here with you… You will be fine…”

After a while, his quiver stopped. His eyes opened slowly. He found you.

“…”

Zayne's hand reached out towards you and then stopped halfway. He was about to touch you but hesitated. Seeing that, you clasped your hand with his.

"What's wrong? Doctor Zayne is experiencing nightmares from overwork, isn't he?"

You smiled. So gentle. That warm beam seemed to calm him down. Zayne's respiration and pulse rate eventually returned to normal. He replied:

“Yeah… My apologies for causing you to worry again.”

When he recognized your cold hand, he became fully awake. He rapidly gained control of his Evol, and the room warmed up to some extent.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes. Much better now.”

Zayne's eyes were still red. He wanted to sit up, but you kept him in your lap for a while longer.

“Lunch break is still long. You can sleep for a bit longer. I will stay here to watch over your sleep.” You declared out loud, as if you were his little defender.

This made Zayne quite happier. He grinned and replied:

“You are always the one who guides me out of nightmares. No matter how bad it gets, I know you will come to my rescue.”

"That's right. Now you can sleep soundly.”

Zayne slowly closed his eyes. He was unsure if he could sleep again after that nightmare. But having you by his side made him feel more at peace. Your fingers squeezed his hand. Your warmth enveloped him. You were alive and well. He still had time to save you, to save himself.

Knowing that made him feel a lot more assured. When you placed a kiss on his forehead, he was ready to face all of the nightmares to come.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

When Xavier returned to Philos, he did so as a traitor.

He gambled with fate, and lost everything. Honor. Freedom. Love. There was nothing left for him when he returned.

His fleet had crossed countless light years, to innumerable realms out there. But what he was looking for was just an illusion.

And suddenly his entire existence became a curse.

To lose his freedom, to lose the love of his life for eternity. Was that the price to pay for opposing destiny?

In the dark corner of the room, Xavier knelt on the cold stone floor. He could not move, nor speak unless granted permission.

He quietly observed the girl he loved in the garden on the other side of the door. The warm sunshine tenderly casted a lovely aura over your body. Your grin shone brighter than the myriad of flowers in the yard. How many times did Xavier want to approach you, call your name, and touch you? But he could not.

Every time he came close to you, the crimson chain around his neck tightened. It did not murder him, but it was painful and debilitating enough. All he could do was stare at you holding hands with an unknown person. Someone with a physique similar to his.

That man was the King, you were his Queen. And Xavier was nothing but a sinner, a tool to be used, a killing machine. All for you. He would do everything for you, but you were no longer his lover.

You failed to recognize him. You were no longer the same as before. Since the person he truly loved was dead.

She was once a Queen. He had vowed to be the Knight standing beside her. But he left her alone on the cold throne. She died and was reborn, again and again. How many times had his love died before he came back?

The girl in front of him now had no memory of those lives anymore. It was a blessing. For you would no longer have to cry over the treachery you believed he had committed on you.

His only wish was to save you; to save the girl he loved from the spiral of death and rebirth. But when he tried to cut off your chains, he, too, was bound by another curse.

He watched you die and come back in another life. As many times as you sat on that throne, he became a slave at your feet, and as many times as he witnessed your death. He could not do anything else, not even scream and weep.

For, he had been cursed since the day he left you alone.

“Xavier… Save me… I don't want… to die…”

He stared down at your body, which was securely tied to the stone table. Trembling. His Queen begged him. Xavier was shrouded in black. The chain around his neck became tighter.

“Do it, Xavier! Stop wasting time!”

The crowd behind urged him. Xavier's palm clenched on the shiny hilt of his sword.

“No… Xavier… Please!…”

“The sacrifice must be completed! Do not forget your duty as Philos' royalty, Xavier! Do not forget how you betrayed us and what punishment you must endure!”

Xavier closed his eyes tightly. You and him, you could never escape this fate. He raised his sword, once more. He ended your torment, for another life.

Yet, his suffering would never cease.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Xavier awoke with tight agony in his neck and chest. His pillow was drenched from weeping. He heard your frightened voice repeating in his ears:

"Oh dear! You have a high fever!”

Through tears, he watched you climb out of bed. You were going to go fetch him a damp towel and medication. But he pulled you back. He wrapped you securely in his arms.

“X-Xavier? How are you feeling? You scared me?…”

“Sorry… I'm really sorry…”

He continued muttering like that. You began to suspect that his apology was not for waking you up in the middle of the night screaming, or that he was hugging you so tightly that you were suffocating. Was there anything else going on?

"Did you have a nightmare?" You questioned as you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his neck and back.

Xavier responded with a gentle "yeah". He eased his hold slightly to allow you to breathe. But seeing his condition, you couldn't help but worry.

"You have a fever." You mentioned it again. "Let me get medicine for you…"

“Stay with me!” Xavier spoke, almost like a grumble. It startled you. His arm was draped around your torso, and his other hand gripped your wrist firmly. Xavier dropped his voice, recognizing he was becoming overly emotional: "Please... Just stay here a little longer..."

“Alright… I'm here…” You comforted Xavier. You cared about nothing other than his mental turmoil. But you believed he would feel better, and when he was ready, he would tell you everything.

A moment later, when he had calmed down, Xavier said:

“I'm sorry… I didn't mean to make you sad or worried…”

"It's fine. I just want you to know that I will always be by your side… Besides, we also have Galaxy Kid, Bunbun and these plushies..."

Both Xavier and you gazed at your plushie-filled bed. He grinned faintly, as if he was finally at ease. You added

“We'll get through everything together, okay?”

For a moment, Xavier said nothing. He just tilted his head slightly to look at you closely. His hand caressed your face as if you were a treasure he once lost, then found.

“Of course. We will get through everything together. Definitely…” His voice trailed off as he fell into a hazy condition caused by the fever in the middle of the night. “This time… I won't let you face it… alone…”

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allmightluver · 2 months

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@hhbluedynamite I’m going to make separate post here to address this. Tumblr mobile is a pain and I can’t add all picture examples I want to it here goes.

This has been a debate ever since My Hero came out,

“Why are All Mights eyes black?”

There’s been multiple explanations from how his borrowed quirk works to simply his own emaciated state. I’ve come up with my own theory. It’s said the eyes are the windows to the soul. I believe All Might’s eyes grow darker the more “weight” he carries.

For example,

When All Might was a kid, his eyes were normal. White. After losing his family, rendering him an orphan, white. Even after losing Nana, still he looked normal.

And after first releasing to the public.

This is because although he’d already been thru hell and back emotionally, he’s still normal. Even with his quirk.

Then, after he’d been in the game a while, they suddenly darkened.

Why?

Because by that time, the full gravity of his position, his responsibility and the realization he was essentially alone in that place, had fully sunk in.

Because he was so over powered above everyone else, everyone including the heroes left him to take care of almost everything they felt was too hard. And because he’s a selfless person at heart without a care to his own safety, he willingly allowed it to happen without asking for help. He didn’t want to risk losing anyone else. Which is also why he didn’t take on any sidekicks.

Until Nighteye.

Vigilantes showed us Toshinori when he wasn’t being All Might. And his eyes turn back into white in his more relaxed form, albeit with tired lines beneath them. However this is when he had Nighteye to count on. And Nighteye can see the future, so perhaps he would be safe, right? Well we know what happened there.

After he and Nighteye break up go their separate ways, we never see Toshinori with white eyes again. (Unless I’m forgetting so please tell me if I am). Now he’s injured, only a handful of people to trust, and none can truly understand what he’s going through. At this time he truly is alone, and the one thing that gives him joy is slowly but surely being fizzled out within him.

All Might’s eyes continued to remain black for years. Even after giving his quirk to Izuku. He still felt the weight of the world on his shoulders because he feared for Izuku’s safety. Blamed himself for every scar and Injury the boy suffered thru. Even though he was retired, nothing had changed. In fact it was worse now, because he could do nothing to help anymore.

And then he gains support items to face AFO for the last time. He’s a distraction, a willing sacrifice to slow the monster down, and he couldn’t be happier. We see the whites of his for the first time. All through the fight we see them, shaded albeit, but they’re there.

When he speaks to Nighteye asking if this isn’t the place he was meant to die, Nighteye confirms that it is. The fact that he’s still alive makes him raise the question, why is he still here then? I’m the mentor, Izuku is a ready and worthy apprentice. He doesn’t need me anymore. I’m supposed to be dead by now. His eyes seem darker here, as if the weight and his own depression have increased again. Perhaps begrudgingly accepting his fate.

But then here after Nighteye tells him he reads too many comic books, and that there’s no way he would go out that way, we get a closer look. Although his eyes are still shrouded in black because of his emaciated state. His eyes themselves are clearer, brighter. Even if Nighteye is only in his head, his words are still bringing him hope deep down.

While being tended to medically, his eyes are dark again, though I believe this is mainly due to him barely being alive and conscious at this point. And they’re still white, more than we’re used to seeing.

Finally after the war while they’re recovering, his eyes remain white, though they’re still shaded. The weight is still present. His work isn’t done yet. Izuku is losing his quirk, and he still feels like a failure in some sense because of that. Also because he and Bakugo almost died. And because of everyone who did die in the war all because he failed to stop AFO after three tries.

People who weren’t qualified to be heroes were even involved in this battle. And he thinks it unfair to hold such high standards when there are people who can still help, even if not at the extreme levels of the top heroes. He and Deku are proof of that!

In the last chapter several years later, we finally see Old Man Might! And his eyes-they’re so bright. ❤️

Of course they’ll always have a little shadow to them because of his sunken in appearance, but the tired lines under his eyes are gone. There’s not the black bags from pushing himself too hard, just the normal wrinkles that come with age.

This is Toshinori that’s been missing for decades. The man whose impossible weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders. He knows he can finally relax, he doesn’t have to be on alert or on call anymore. The world is safe without him.

He even found a way for Izuku to keep up his hero work with a suit similar to his own during the war (though most definitely suped up).

Finally, he can be at peace. His body, soul, and mind can finally begin to heal. He can work through all of the trauma he’s been stuffing down all of his life.

Finally, he can live.

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kichiyosh1 · 9 months

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"I made it with you in mind"

wanderer x reader

to think he'd end up finding joy in such a childish activity

✧: he ends up being mean at the beginning but he apologizes in his own special way, slight hurt/comfort but nothing major

(I'm back ig? idk :3)

He couldn't believe the absurdity to which you and the young archon were subjecting him to.

The sins committed by the former harbinger are things he won't refute or deny. Indeed such actions musn't go unpunished, but perhaps he's underestimated the extent of the dendro archon's mercy.

Mind explaining what all of this is supposed to be?" he knows, with just a single glance, he grasped what was about to unfold, he just couldn't believe it. There displayed before his very eyes, a colorful assortment of beads lay scattered across a wooden table.

"You've dabbled in arts and crafts before, haven't you? You could say I proposed the idea to Lord kusanali as a way to keep that evil little brain of yours occupied"

'What evil is there to be done in bracelet crafting of all things, huh?' he deadpanned while simultaneously picking up a bead, examining how it reflects the light that's passing through the crystalline windows.

He let out a scoff.

"Have you forgotten who I am? A being of celestial creation, lessened to do recreational activities such as these? how amusing." Pathetic was the word he was looking for. Seriously, do you really expect him to just sit down quietly and start passing beads on a string without complaint to how this is a hit on his pride? It'd be more fitting if you locked him up for all of eternity, but this, this was just mockery.

It was the warmth of your hand that snapped him out of his thoughts. Eyes widened before squinting, but he dared not move, curious to what it was you were doing. You had started to fasten a piece of string to his wrist, gentle with your touch, measuring it so that it'd fit securely, but not too tight to be uncomfortable.

"Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me?" The warmth of your touch was strangely starting to get to him. He swatted your hand away, any more of that and he wouldn't know how to react.

Both of you were now glaring at each other. "Is it that hard for you to accept someone's act of kindness? I'm just trying to help." You could've sworn there was a slight change in his eyes when you said that, but was quickly replaced by an irritated smirk on his face. "I don't recall ever asking for your help, go give it to someone who actually needs it." He waved you off before plopping himself down on one of the stools before suddenly picking out random beads and charms like he wasn't against the idea a moment ago.

With furrowed brows and your mouth left slightly agape by his rude behavior, your face settled on a frown. You were used to the wanderer's arrogance and unpleasant attitude towards people, but there are times where even you are left puzzled. You went out of your way to make sure the activities kusanali planned out wouldn't overwhelm him, she'd ask you if you were doing this out of pity for him. You firmly shook your head.

You simply cared for him, that's all there was to it, but it didn't seem like he reciprocated the motion. The last he's heard from you was a sigh, before the sound of your footsteps slowly leaving faded.

You haven't visited him since. I mean how could you? if he was going to act like a brat while you spent your time there then might as well steer clear out of his way. No, you weren't being petty, and even if you were, you most certainly had every right to be. You nodded to yourself, justifying your actions as wanderer just being an asshat and you being the more mature one in this situation.

It wasn't easy. There were times where you would cross paths when he was on break from his duties (and bracelet crafting), or times where he himself is actively seeking you out, and before he could even call out your name, you're already making a bee line towards the exit.

You sat yourself down, exhausted from all this running around. Another successful day of not coming into contact with the wanderer.

"Doesn't he have other businesses to attend to?" If he had time to be going around looking for you then surely he was slacking off, right?

"As far as I'm concerned, you are my business." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"So how long do you plan on avoiding me?" he was standing behind you, face leaning down above your head as you met his gaze from your position on the bench.

You put on an air of annoyance before flicking his forehead, causing him to hiss and reel back from your attack as he rubbed the spot. "Hey! you deprive me of your company for days and now you dare assault my face? you-" you were already walking away, with the esteemed wanderer quickly following closely behind you.

"Hey", he reached for your hand, but you batted it away. It was definitely worth it to see the offended look on his face, but there was a small pang in your heart when you saw how his face faltered. "Who gave you permission to lay your hands on me? don't go acting all buddy buddy with me now." you crossed your arms, throwing back what he had said to you a few days ago.

"ah, you're upset with me about last time." You kept a stern look on your face, expecting for more, but if he failed to deliver then you'd have no trouble turning away from him again.

His mouth kept opening and closing similar to that of a goldfish, but no words came out. He looks conflicted. It took him a whole minute to sort out his thoughts, and with a deep sigh he spoke.

"The way I reacted, it was uncalled for. Like you said, you were only trying to help and I should have, I, it's just the way you held my hand, it made me feel weird." his gaze turned downcast feeling a little embarrassed by getting riled up by something so minor as physical contact.

you don't know that of course, you'd just assume he was really really ticklish in some areas

Would you mind closing your eyes for a moment? I promise It'll only take a second", the soft spoken tone he's taken on is foreign to you, but not unwelcome. You were hesitant but complied. And if he does anything funny you'll make sure to write a full on report about it to kusanali.

You could only feel how he softly held your hand, how he delicately glided his dainty finger in order to tie what you assumed was a,

a bracelet?

You opened your eyes and that's when he leaned in, his soft breath near your ear "It was supposed to be a surprise gift, but an apology gift works too." your face felt warm, and your hand did too (to which he was still holding). Was this the weird feeling he was talking about.

A moment after, you examined the accessory on your wrist.

and my was it beautiful.

The main colors of the bracelet were your favorite colors, accompanied by beautiful white pearl beads and crystal flowers and cute charms. Truly something you wouldn't expect the wanderer himself to make.

You released a small laugh, happiness spreading throughout your system. "Did you really make this?" You were starting to look too happy for his liking, but of course you always looked more beautiful with a smile on your face. He scoffed in order to hide the ever creeping happiness that was also starting to spread across his face.

"Is it that hard to believe? I had you in mind when I made it after all, so if you're going to complain about its design then the person used as reference is at fault." You were just about to complain to him about him complaining that you'd not dare complain about it when he added on.

"again, I'm sorry for disregarding your help. Whether I needed it or not, I wanted to make the bracelet solely on my own so that it'd be more meaningful of a gift to give to you." This time he held your gaze, determined and truthful about what he said.

It seems you had judged him wrong, well not entirely. True he had a unique character, but that's just what made him, him. You held his hand, and the colors from earlier are returning to both of your faces. You held it there before pointing to his wrist, "It's only right I make you one as well, right? that way we'll be matching." You then intertwined your fingers. He was gonna combust.

EXTRA:

"I didn't think wanderer would be that into bracelet making" Kusanali peaked from the corner of the room. He was deeply concentrating on what he was doing and she did not want to disturb. "A little peek into that mind of his wouldn't hurt". After using her skill, a flurry of thoughts from wanderer flood her mind.

'Is this too much? or maybe too little? is [y/n] a minimalist or a maximalist?'

'This reminds me of you, this one too, and this one.'

'This charm is cute, like you. Wait no you're most definitely more cuter'

'this bracelet should be honored to be worn by you'

'maybe i'll make you a necklace next'

'I hope you'll like it'

#genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #I hope there aren't any mistales like I wrote this shit and never looked back lol

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wtfsteveharrington · 4 months

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my pretty little brain has been…. focused on cockwarming with carmy lately.

afab!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, cockwarming (obviously). basically you love your boyfriend & he loves every inch of you too.

carmy coming home after a long morning of doing interviews (which he hates frankly but he was forced into it for the sake of publicity for the bear) and he finds you in the bed. you were 'asleep' - aka you heard him come in and purposely pulled the blanket down your body, leaving your back exposed to your boyfriend. typically he'd shower, change, and be curled up behind you within 20 minutes of coming home. it had become an easy routine to settle into.

while sure you had chores to do, errands to run, but the sun was shining in through your windows and made the bed look so warm, so inviting. you told yourself just twenty minutes of napping before getting back to your tasks but here you are over an hour later and carmy certainly isn't complaining.

instead you hear his dress shoes being kicked off and scattering across the floor, the heavy sound of his pants and belt hitting the ground next. you're groggy but slowly waking up to the change in environment. he should shower - he should. but he walks around the bed to face you, clad in just a pair of tight briefs that have you half convinced this is a wet dream and drops to his knees. elbows on the edge of the bed, fingers tracing along your cheekbones. "you 'wake?" to which you just groan but bring your hand up to cup the backside of his hand on your face. "can be if you need me to."

to which carmy beams at you. being loved by you was the greatest joy he's gotten from life so far. he presses a kiss to your head and quickly makes his way to the bathroom to wash off the morning. you had chastised him one too many times for getting stains on the sheets or making the bed smell like whatever the tasting menu was that week for him to hop right in.

he's good at learning.

and the shower is quick. he takes time to scrub his scalp clean and wash his hair well because he knows how much you like to play with it. he wants it to feel clean and soft for you. they put some gel in it for the news that made it feel too stiff - he knows you'd hate it.

it doesn't take long before he's back in the bedroom and throwing the towel that was around his waist into the overloaded laundry basket in the corner. you're still sunk into the bed but this time flat on your back. your own hands rubbing at your legs, the oversized and cliche shirt you got on your last vacation with carmy pooling at your hips as your knees come up for him. you knew what he was after by waking you up. "wanted to get up and put on something prettier for you, carmy. couldn't do it."

he laughs. tries to keep it soft to not disrupt you but there's only so much he can hold back. there you laid in this cliche “cheese curd capital of the world” shirt he picked out as a joke while you guys drove through wisconsin on your aforementioned road trip. he loved it, loved the memories associated with it.

"look gorgeous, baby. you alway look gorgeous." the bed's dipping at your feet as carmen kneels on it, his lips coming down to start trailing kisses along one of your calves while one of his hands cups the back of your other. rough hands that have such a tender touch when it comes to you. your knees are falling open further under his warmth, drops of water landing on your skin from his still damp hair. "you're gonna get the pillows all wet."

he lets out a breathy laugh once again, this time the sound quieted against your skin. "i'll wash the sheets before we go to bed. just need you now." you hum as his lips work their way up to your inner thigh, carmen alternating between kissing and sucking at your delicate skin. "thought about you all day. kept answering the same damn questions over and over and all i could think about between ‘em was how much i’d rather be right here."

you let your head roll back against the soft pillow, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets under you when you feel carmen's breath even higher on your thigh. he’s taking his time while you’re losing your mind. "y'already woke me back up, don't tease me too please." he's humming against your skin, "not teasing, just savoring."

the drag of the sheets along his length is giving him just enough friction to keep him stimulated as he kisses the cotton covering your core. your hands finally tangle into his wet hair, keeping him in place as he licks the material. his eyes are heavy with the exhaustion of the day but he just needs you. the facade he had to wear during press wore him down.

there's fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear as he drags them off of your body, tossing them into the pile of his long forgotten work clothes. a problem for later tonight as well. carmen leans back, eyes dragging along your form. you can’t help but admire him too - your boyfriend kneeling between your legs. he smells like your body wash and you giggle to yourself knowing he must have mixed them up in the haste to get to you. his toned figure, the tattoos you’ve memorized covering his skin. the way his eyes look when he stares at you and his wet curls against his forehead. “look so pretty, carmy.”

carmen’s blushing from the attention. giving you a smile the pushes his cheeks up to his eyes. “thank you.” taking your compliment, letting it soak in. you feel two fingers drag along your folds, a thumb pressed to your clit as he slips one in shortly after the other. "just wanna be buried in you and go to sleep. you okay with that? promise i'll fuck you real well tonight." which has you nodding pathetically, hands clutching at his forearm.

he's slowly dragging his fingers out of you, keeping them crooked to take as much of your wetness as he can to glide along his length. carmen’s shuffling closer to you while pumping into his own fist, whimpering as the head of his cock bumps into your core. he lines up the length of himself between your folds, rutting against you. “carmen.” a warning.

the bed squeaks below the two of you as carmen leans over your body. his elbow next to your head, lips capturing yours in a kiss as he lines himself up. your legs go tight around his waist with your hands coming around his torso, fingertips pressing into the muscles while carmen slides inch by inch into you.

you’re both moaning into the kiss while you arch your hips up to encourage him to sink in faster. you discovered this awhile ago - carmen getting lost in you to help his mind turn off. it was almost embarrassing the first time you two woke up after a nap still connected, both still aroused. now it happened regularly. both of you love feeling needed.

he’s pulling away to kiss down your jaw before nuzzling your neck, “feels so fuckin’ good. hate being away from you, ‘specially like this.” pulling your body up against his as he carefully rolls the two of you to the side. it’s not graceful to stay connected but you two make it work.

pressed chest to chest, your leg hooked around his waist while he stays buried inside of you. his lips are working your jaw again, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. your eyes are getting heavy again. the sensation of being so full and so loved lulling you back into a comfortable headspace. “love you, carm.”

carmen kisses you on the lips again, “love you so much more.” he’s reaching behind his back to pull the forgotten blankets around your combined bodies. making sure the two of you were tucked in and comfortable before pulling you as close as possible and letting his mind finally relax enough to drift off to sleep.

#♡: c.b.#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #c.b. blurb

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yandere-sins · 6 months

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Underneath the Christmas Tree

You and König got into a fight when you realized what time of the year it was. He tries to make it up to you.

Characters: Yandere!König x Reader Fandom: Call of Duty Warnings: Yandere, Mentions of Violence, Building Stockholm Syndrom, Mentions of being tied up/ropes

a/n: Late as can be, but my little present to you guys! I hope that everyone got to eat yummy food and experience joy regardless of celebrations last year ♥ (Translations to the German words are below!)

"Mein Herz... are you awake?"

Sometimes, you wondered how a man of his stature could make so little noise. You were never able to notice him until he had already crept up to you. It had always been this way. You felt like you had only just closed your eyes, barely dozing off, when he startled you with his presence next to you. After all the screaming and crying, you had managed to scare him off, but it felt like only minutes had passed since he left.

The rope around your wrist tightened as you stirred, startled by his voice and the touch of his palm at your cheek, his thumb caressing you gently as you were torn out of your sleep. You felt groggy and tired, but almost instantly, the irritation with him returned to your mind, mixing with the pain as the rope cut into your skin.

However, even with your eyes wide open, your mind needed a moment to focus, the room having turned darker than it was a few minutes ago. Had it really been minutes? Or hours? Did you fall asleep for the whole day, exhausted from your outburst?

You cursed under your breath, your mouth dry like sand. More pain shot through your arms as you tried to move, your expression twisting when König's chest suddenly hovered over you, his gloved fingers dancing all over your hands and arms, too anxious to touch but too scared to keep you in pain.

"Here, let me," he mumbled, concentrating on the knot he made. Even he had to focus when undoing his own work, his methods too skilled for even his own good. But the relief, as your arms sacked to the mattress of his bed, was almost too good; your body lulled back into relaxing now that the strain subsided. Your eyes were already closing when he spoke up, alerting you to the danger you were in.

"Better?" König asked, almost sounding smug about it like he expected to hear praise from you for doing the right thing. It would have almost shown his compassion had it not been him who put you into the restraint in the first place.

"Guess," you contered, and you two fell into silence as you stared at each other. The fabric covering his face made his eyes all the more piercing in the moonlight shining in through the window. He was the first to avoid his eyes—a meaningless victory with a man who went from Colonel to shy schoolboy at the sight of your face on the regular.

"I thought about what you said, and I think you're right."

"The bit about Christmas? Ugh..."

Pulling your arms to your chest, you felt the heaviness that had settled into your muscles, which had been a few hours long enough to make them stiff as boards. You examined your bruised and swollen, at times bloody, wrists as good as you could in the moonlight, but feeling the wet smears on your fingers and the burn of pain when you inspected them, you eventually resigned to sitting up and resting them in your lap.

It wasn't long before König reached out to have a look at your wrists as well, gently turning them over a few times to take note of all the damage he had done to you, every fiber of your being blaming him and refusing to take even an ounce of it despite the fact you were the one fighting against the ropes that he put you in. Everything was his fault, and you had no problem telling him that at every chance you got.

"Yeah... about your family and traditions."

This was new.

Usually, König would try to change the subject as best as he could when it became uncomfortable for him—and all your complaints and demands, reasonable as they were, were uncomfortable. König always found ways to try and tell you how much better this situation was without really confirming or denying your feelings, even though his attempts at convincing you otherwise were fruitless. So, hearing him talk about what he desperately tried to avoid... was new. Progress.

"So you'll let me go?"

Silence. Wringing his hands in his lap after releasing yours, König stared at the floor beneath his feet, sitting on the edge of the bed like a scolded puppy. "No..." he mumbled, and you felt the surprise turn back into anger, your body finding the strength to straighten up and get ready to argue again.

"But!" he intercepted, noticing the changes in you and holding up a finger to silence you before you could explode at him again. "Schatz, hear me out before you say something, bitte!"

"Go on then..."

It was hard to keep your composure when what you really would have liked to attempt was to tear his head off in any way possible. Somewhere under the obvious shirt he was wearing, there must have been a head you could either curse at or try to break the neck off. However, you refrained, a small part of you still hoping to find a peaceful solution that would let you escape unscathed. You were at a physical disadvantage, and hurting his feelings had never been a very wise choice either. For someone who quickly became overwhelmed and shy around you, König was an expert at kidnapping and stringing you up, knocking you out, and putting his hands where they didn't belong. Even if he seemed to regret his outbursts afterward.

"I can't let you go, I just... It's not possible. It's not safe. I hope you can understand that I can't do it."

Opening your mouth was all that was needed to have König scramble, his words tumbling over each other as he tried to form his thoughts into a sentence. One that would soothe you. One that would put him into good graces with you. Sometimes you wondered if he forgot how to be the scary guy that kidnapped you. Who stood still and menacing by your side, watching you sleep without an ounce of shame or manners. But then again, you were glad that bruises and self-inflicted wounds were all you had to suffer from. Even if he tried to be gentle, you knew his hands could cause more harm than good to you. The thought of what all they could ruin was more terrifying than being kidnapped was.

"But- I- Well, I thought we- I'm your family now, so... About today— Scheiße... Christmas, I can give you that."

"Christmas?" Cocking your eyebrow, you watched him nervously crush his thumb in his palm, unable to maintain eye contact with you even though König kept glancing at you from the corners of his eyes.

"It's been a while for me, so it's probably not much. But I... I want to show you I care—about you! About us. I didn't consider that these holidays would mean so much to you, and I'm sorry."

König got up before you could think of a reply. He barely turned towards you, his body tense, hands curled into fists. Nervous. You knew all the telltale signs of his anxiety, considering there was nothing better to do in his apartment than to study him when he was around and you two weren't fighting. But this time, as secretive as he was, it made you almost curious as to why.

"If you want to, you can come to the living room. I'd be happy if you did."

With that, he left the bedroom, leaving you behind with the door wide open. You knew the layout of his small apartment, but you were contained in this room most of the time without the chance of walking through this door without König. Apprehensive, you got out of bed, feeling the cold floor underneath your feet, causing you to tense. Your soles tingled, almost burning from the cold, and you hesitated. It felt wrong to walk around freely, even though it was what you desired most. Freedom.

You had to cross the hallway to get to the living room, passing by the bath and entrance door. This all felt unreal. Like König was going to stand behind you any second now, asking where you were going and dragging you back to his bed, chaining you up and leaving you there to scream and cry. But he wasn't. You could hear him moving around in the living room—probably pacing—wondering if you were going to come.

There was much to consider. Did you need to use the toilet? Take a shower? Was the front door unlocked?

Your brain was screaming Idiot! at you for even thinking you could make a run for it. But you'd never give up the fight, you swore yourself. Even when you knew he'd easily catch up to you, knock you out, and tie you up, dragging you back to the apartment. You still reached for the door handle, pushing it down and giving it a firm tug!

...

The sturdy lock held on tight to the door, and you wondered what you were expecting.

Your hand fell to your side, and you took a step back. The disappointment and frustration were mere zaps going through your body, not even enough to sway you. What did you expect? That König would leave it open? After all that he did to you?

When you looked up at the living room door, your eyes met his, sparks of hurt hiding in the shadows over his face, disappearing the second König turned away, returning to the living room and leaving you alone again. As if he couldn't bear to watch a second more of your betrayal. There was no need to speak about what happened, about the feelings going through both of you. Neither of you talked about the taboo that the front door upheld—you, the prisoner, and he, your kidnapper and stalker. A love leading to nothing but suffering and destruction. He left the scene after making sure you were safe. That was all that mattered, even if your attempt to leave cut deep into his heart.

A quiet, surrendering sigh escaped you before you turned towards the living room once more. The bath was still an option. You could have gone there, locked the door, taken a shower, and hid from your captor until he couldn't bear it anymore and removed the door that separated you two. But fighting him this morning had worn you down, so provoking and refusing something seemingly harmless like an invitation to the living room seemed silly even to you. Certainly, it would have hurt König, and you liked that idea, but what about yourself? Could you have lived with what hurting him would have meant for you?

Deep inside yourself, you realize you were just trying to justify your curiosity. Escaping would always be your number one priority, but at the same time, you couldn't help being curious about what he had prepared. Being locked in the same room day in and day out was so boring, and even if it was a setup for disappointment, it was still better than pouting by yourself in the bath, trying to fight him for no other reason than spite and hurting both of you in the process.

But you didn't tell yourself that. You told yourself it was an order from him, and you didn't want to be punished for disobeying. That was enough to justify your actions to yourself rather than admit that you were curious about something he did. You led yourself along the wall, hesitant but complacent with König's wishes—at least for now. Just for today.

Warm lights enveloped you the moment you stepped into the doorframe. Christmas lights - green, yellow, red - twinkled from a string of lights pinned to the ceiling, while the old (although decorated with fake greenery) lamp added a cozy, warm glow. The table was decorated with a table runner, candles, little pine cones, and a big wreath with burning candles, plates and cutlery set like you'd see in a restaurant.

Most surprisingly, however, was the Christmas tree set up next to the couch. Given it was barely the size from the floor to your hips. But König had perched the tree on a little stool and hung it with baubles and little figure ornaments like a nutcracker and Santa Claus' hat. It was nowhere near tidy or uniform like you knew from home, with different colors mixing and not always going well with each other. It seemed like it had been hastily put together with whatever he could grab. But in its odd way, it was an endearing sight to behold.

Underneath it, wrapped presents in various shapes piled, their wrapping paper glistening in the lights. Some were easy to figure out, like books. But others had a generic box shape that wasn't very precise on what the present would be. Honestly, you were astounded, barely able to say anything with your mouth open in surprise. König never had a lot of decoration around his home, and standing in an all-out Christmas wonderland was almost uncomfortable after getting used to white walls and unintentional minimalism.

On the other hand, König looked so out of place, like a black hole in the middle of a Christmas market. He stopped pacing—moving, entirely so—the moment your presence came into view. There was a moment of awkward silence between you two, his hands tensing and relaxing, ever so often curling into fists as he waited for you to say something.

"So, do you like-?"

"Wow, that's-"

More awkward silence followed as you both started and stopped your sentences. But eventually, it was König who broke it, stepping aside and inviting you in with a slight wave of his hand. "I hope you like it. I didn't have much time, so it's messy. Probably not how you'd do it, but next year, we can do it how you want to. We could go shopping or—"

Cutting himself off, he seemed to be biting his own tongue. There was no guarantee that you'd have a next year. That you'd go out with him to buy decorations or you two would be close enough to celebrate like this again. Nothing was truly certain in this weird relationship you had.

But he tried. He really did.

And it almost made you cry.

"I... uhm," you quickly turned away when you heard your own voice shake, wiping at your eyes and praying that this strange feeling of happiness that overcame you would pass, returning your anger and defiance to you instead. "It's... alright. It's fine."

That was a lie. It was not fine; not alright. It was wrong. Downright awful and manipulative. You should have been hating on it, cursing him out for trying to take advantage of your longing to make himself look better. It was cruel and heartless, and you liked the feeling of normalcy so much that you wished it would stay forever. At that moment, you wished he was your boyfriend that you loved, and you were just a couple celebrating the holidays. A moment of normalcy was worth more than your defiance. And it made you hate the person you felt yourself becoming in that stupid Christmas room.

König's shoulders lost some of their tension, his equivalent of a smile. This time, when he waved you closer, focusing on the tree he had put up, he seemed excited. "Komm!" he said, and you felt your heart leap with the same excitement that swung in his voice, his happiness contagious. Saying "it's fine" seemed to have been enough for him, König being ever so undemanding when it came to your affection.

König knelt next to the tree, still just as tall as it despite being brought down a notch, patting the couch beside him. You tiptoed your way around the man, half expecting him to jump up and attack you as you passed by his back, but he didn't. Taking a seat, you curiously stretched your neck to see what he was doing. After briefly combing through the presents, König picked out one wrapped in green, glittery paper, handing it to you before sitting down on the floor at your feet, watching you expectantly.

You could feel the book's hardcover without seeing it, glancing at König briefly before unwrapping it. Forthcame the cover of the last book you had been reading before your life went downhill. It wasn't the same copy, still smelling new, and its spine wasn't broken from being read in awkward positions. For a moment, it felt unreal that he would know how much you had longed to learn how it ended, thinking about it a lot in the most boring of afternoons. But then it reminded you of how he tore you out of your life and destroyed it with his actions. How was this a small compensation for all the bad things?

But you'd still read it.

Pressing it to your chest, you swallowed back the tears, giving a fake yet confident nod of approval. Your body language was good enough for König, even if he noticed the hints of tears in your eyes, and he handed you the next present with an encouraging hum. You went through many more wrapped presents like this—more books, movies, sweets, a back warmer and a teddy bear, and so many more things you enjoyed. You eventually ended up on the ground next to König, your knees touching while you were occupied with opening and awing at all your presents.

It was just you two, and the apartment was quiet but peaceful, unlike the constant screaming and pain that usually resided in it. The bitter truth was that despite being unusual, things could almost look normal.

So when he slipped his hand over yours, and you didn't flinch away, the silence felt more awkward than it felt right. It was like two lovers exchanging a moment of gentle togetherness in a world that was so cruel to them—a world you weren't in voluntarily but a world that König wanted this way. You couldn't bear it. Bear the thought of this being acceptable.

So you pulled away, hugging the teddy bear in your lap and looking at the pile of gifts. "I've got nothing for you," you commiserated, politeness being the only thing you could procure to avoid destroying the peace you two had for once.

"I've got all I need," König replied gently, and you forced yourself to look back at him. His gaze was soft, lights sparkling in his eyes as they moved from you to his hand, reaching out to you once more. He was getting greedy, pushing your boundaries for just one more touch. "Just you and me, right here. Under the Christmas tree. I'll not ask for more than that from you."

It would have been the perfect moment to rebuke him, to hurt him and stab the figurative knife into his heart by telling him you didn't feel this way. It would have been enough to tell him how you felt truthfully that you still hated him. But for some reason, you remained silent, allowing him this moment of disillusionment that you two were finally warming up to each other.

It was simply too painful to admit to yourself that you were.

"Are you hungry?"

König snapped out of it faster than you. Unusual as he could be quite stuck in his lovey-dovey ways. "I got us takeout; just have to reheat it. I hope you like Christmas food because I got us everything."

Heaving his body forward, he got back on his knees but hesitated for a moment before standing up. You didn't look at him or say anything, tensing when you heard his breath next to your ear. His actions made you want to fight him again, every fiber of your being rejecting him and his ideas of love. But not on that day. Maybe you didn't want to ruin it, no matter how disgusted you were with him and yourself.

The kiss that fell on top of your head lingered for seconds too long. It was as if he was trying to get on your nerves, though more realistically, he was merely basking in the opportunities you granted him. His lips felt gross despite your hair and his mask being in the way. Yet you let him.

"Frohe Weihnachten, mein Schatz," he uttered into the kiss before finally pulling away, standing up and heading straight for the kitchen. Soon, the room was filled with the smells of a roast in the oven and sides cooking on the stove while you remained where you were, sitting there like an unopened present waiting for him to return.

Your face burned as your heart swelled with affection for the man you hated the most. The man who gave you what you wanted despite having to scramble to pull off a Christmas like no other. Who loved you unconditionally. Loved you so much despite all the bad things you said to him. Who would move the world to make you happy, even though he refused to do it under normal circumstances. The only person you had left who cared so much about you, stalking you to the point of knowing the kinds of books you liked, movies, treats, and your favorite things, presenting them all to you for just a moment by your side in return.

You were disgusted and appalled by everything and yourself. But without realizing it, you started to question your feelings for König as you hid your face in the soft, plush body of his gift.

And what more could he ask for as a present than you—in doubt and foolishly falling in love with the idea of him in your head—underneath his Christmas tree?

Mein Herz - My heart Schatz - Treasure (Equivalent to nicknames like Dear/Darling/Love) Bitte - Please Scheiße - Shit Komm - Come (in this context like “Come here”) Frohe Weihnachten, mein Schatz - Merry Christmas, my Love

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