#GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

[it-happened-one-fic]

Such a Privilege - Leona

Author Notes: This fic just kind of flew together while I was killing time. There isn't actually much to say about it other than I am rather pleased with how snarky some of the dialogue turned out. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ flirtation/ post Octavinelle chapter

Word Count: 1125

Leona had a bad habit. One that you’d initially discovered when you’d been staying with him in the Savannaclaw dorm while the Octatrio had held Ramshackle dorm for ransom. You had not, however, realized exactly how bad his habit was until more recently.

The issue was quite simple. Leona got cuddly when he was sleepy, and the problem only increased tenfold when he was actually asleep.

When you’d been staying in his room at Savannaclaw, it hadn’t really been that big of a deal. It had just meant that, after moving from the couch to his bed due to Grim’s bad habit of scratching things in his sleep and Leona’s declaration that his couch was not getting destroyed by your talking cat, you’d had to get used to waking up in the Housewarden’s embrace. 

Which wasn’t exactly an unpleasant thing considering this was Leona you were dealing with. After all, he was surprisingly good at giving some of the best hugs, and said hugs were usually impossible to receive.

The two of you’d had an unspoken agreement that neither of you would speak of the nightly cuddles during that entire time, and everything had been fine. Delightful, even.

But then, after everything had been resolved and you were back in Ramshackle, you’d taken to studying in the botanical garden near Leona’s napping spot.

You’d grown fond of the lion beastman in an odd sort of way during your stay with him, and you didn’t actually get to see him very often, so it had seemed like a good plan. You got to spend time with Leona and had a quiet place to study. What more could a Prefect want?

Truthfully speaking, you hadn’t even noticed when the young man had begun creeping your way. Growing steadily closer until it was too late.

Arms wrapped around your waist, steadily tightening as you realized, far too late, what was happening. Leona’s head pressed first against your hip and then, with a disgruntled snort, shifted until your lap had been claimed as his makeshift pillow.

You stared in surprise at the now relaxed young man, who seemed perfectly content now that you were officially his cushion.

But his content came at a steep price. You weren’t going to get any worthwhile studying done with Leona snoozing away on your lap, and you were most certainly trapped.

Waking Leona was no easy task, and the outcome probably wouldn’t be to your advantage, what with the importance of letting sleeping lions lie and all that. Ruggie could attest to that simple truth, and this wasn’t the first time this had happened.

In fact, this had been happening ever since you’d started studying in the botanical garden.

You briefly frowned at the prince, snoozing away on your lap, before sighing and resolving yourself to do the only thing you could do and amuse yourself with the source of your problem.

Besides, even if he complained, you could cite it as his nap tax.

Your hands slid into his soft, healthy-feeling hair easily, and your eyes widened as his head rolled back into your palm slightly. Almost like he was encouraging you to continue toying with the chocolatey strands that smoothly slid between your fingers. 

You smiled to yourself as he somehow relaxed further the longer you massaged his scalp until your gaze shifted, landing on his fluffy-looking ears, and you felt a grin creep across your face.

You hesitated only briefly before carefully reaching out and carefully rubbing your thumb over the back of his ear. 

They were velvety, and you felt your eyes go wide at exactly how pettable Leona, of all people, was. 

His ears twitched slightly at your touch, and you felt yourself freeze. Your gaze darting back to his face, only to find him continuing to snooze away. Peaceful and utterly unaware of your actions.

You smiled again, shrugging to yourself slightly as you went back toying with his hair. Amusing yourself even as you remain trapped as his pillow and idly considering how the young man would react if you were to undo his braids and redo his hairstyle.

 You only went still when Leona shifted. Rolling over to look up at you with far too much amusement shining in his bright green eyes for you to feel totally comfortable.

You stared down at him in silence and he only seemed to grow more amused the longer the silence between the two of you stretched. To be honest, though, you felt like a child who’d been caught with their hand in a cookie jar, while he looked like you’d fallen for some sort of carefully laid trap. 

That feeling of having been caught was only made worse when he finally spoke, words slipping from his mouth in an all-too-smug tone, “Nothing to say?”

You twitched as he broke the silence before frowning and slowly retracting your hands, “You’re the one who suddenly decided to use me as a pillow. What was I supposed to do?”

He yawned, showing no signs of moving, “I thought you were studying?”

Amusement continued to flicker in the emerald depths of his eyes as you stared at him incredulously. Hardly able to believe what you were hearing, “With you snoozing away on my lap? Like I would get anything done that way.”

He smirked almost immediately at your words, and you tensed as he began to speak, bracing for whatever it was that he was about to say, “So I’m too distracting for you?”

You looked away, not wanting to agree as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, yes. Completely,” Sarcasm dripped from your tone, but Leona hardly seemed phased.

He did, however, at long last sit up. Snorting to himself before twisting so that he could continue to face you, “Well, did you at least enjoy yourself, Herbivore? Not too many get to do that.”

The implication was clear: he’d let you toy with his hair, and pet his ears even though most would never be allowed to do such a thing.

But despite that, as your gaze slid back towards him, a grin was already creeping across your face, “Be his Royal Majesty’s pillow, you mean? I didn’t realize it was such a privilege.”

He merely continued to grin at your deliberate misinterpretation of your words as you continued. Tilting your head in amusement as you finished, “I doubt that’ll be the last time that happens anyway.”

He shifted only slightly, angling his body so that he dipped into your personal space as he lifted his chin with a smirk, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You snorted slightly, your eyebrows lifting in amusement, before you gave the slightest of nods, “I guess so.”

[faerieroyal]

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thinking about charlie, who will call you every single pet name known to the english language, and use them so much that sometimes you wonder whether he remembers your real name. thinking about charlie, who always insists on having his arm around you when the two of you are in public, no matter if it’s around your shoulders or your waist. thinking about charlie, who will absolutely cover your face with kisses when you’re upset until you laugh from how much it tickles, and have the most smug smile on his face when he’s accomplished it. thinking about charlie, who will attempt to write a saxophone melody just for you, and even if it doesn’t turn out quite like he wanted will feel like the sun has started shining in his chest when you smile at him after he plays it for you. thinking about charlie, who as much as he craves validation, eventually comes to find that yours is the only laugh he really cares about hearing after he’s told a joke.

thinking about charlie, who is always so jovial and takes so little in this life seriously, but who is deadly serious about his love for you; as much as he tries to bring light and levity into other people’s lives, you are the light in his life, and he will be damned if he doesn’t love you with the same determination he gives to telling jokes and causing mischief - strong, steadfast, with all the warmth and power of the sun he cannot help but remind people of, and that he insists he sees every time he sees you smile.

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dead poets society taglist: @fairyofthehollow, @lovings4turn, @agentlilicarter, @renqiisnce !

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[chickenparm]

Warm Enough (Wriothesley/gn!Reader)

header by @drawlypsy :^)

i said to myself "that fortress is all metal, ain't no way that bitch is warm!" and then i said "wait...warm......warmer............warming-"

---

AO3 LINK

Written pre-4.1

Wriothesley/gn!Reader (no pronouns, no body description) 1441 Words - NSFW Cockwarming, desk sex, a little bit of dirty talk, pre-established relationship

---

Wriothesley has a person for everything. A tool for every problem, a solution to most situations that would leave others frustrated or at a loss. 

There’s a man he knows that has an exceptional skill in metallurgy. It’s where he gets his cuffs from. A woman with connections in Liyue to obtain high quality ore. A man with hands skilled enough to turn that ore into the components needed for his gloves. And so on and so forth. 

Wriothesley is the Duke of Meropide; there’s no shortage of problems that need solving in one way or another. It just comes with the territory - he knew it when he somehow ended up with the title and position. Resourcefulness has served him well, he thinks. 

Meropide is surprisingly cold, despite the foundry inside. His office itself sits far enough away that often the coat over his shoulders is worn as it should be, the tea on his desk keeping his fingers warm when he wraps them around the cup. So, when you smiled at him disarmingly and asked if he’d like something to warm him up, he agreed offhandedly without a second thought. 

And he should have thought. 

Because thoughtlessness gets him here - sitting at his desk, fingers struggling to write as he shivers in a different way. Eyes unfocused and unseeing at the words swimming on the pages, the hair at the back of his neck sticking uncomfortably to his skin with an uncharacteristic amount of sweat. 

“I-I think I’m warm enough-”

“Are you? You’re trembling, poor thing.” You hum, tilting your head a little more so he can see more easily over your shoulder. “Let’s stay a little longer. Just like this.”

Like this? Wriothesley wants to laugh, but not out of good humor. Of course, he’s warm, but perhaps too much. Your hips shift, and with it comes a shock of pleasure that makes his brows pitch together and his teeth clamp down on his tongue. Only when a faint tang of copper touches his taste buds does he let it go and say, “Have I upset you?”

“What makes you say that?” Your answer comes with another roll of your hips, a quiet sigh leaving you as you enjoy both the sensation and the throbbing desperation of his cock inside you. Your next words are spoken a little lower, a little more heady, “Isn’t this better than being cold? If you want, I can do this all day.”

“Please, don’t.”

And his stomach twists in quiet embarrassment at how pathetic that sounded. At how your body shakes with your quiet, pleased laughter. At how you purposely clench around him until his breath leaves his lungs in a quiet groan. How if you tried to get off him and leave, he’d pull you right back onto his dick where you belong. 

Wriothesley has a person for everything - including you to satisfy his more personal needs. 

“I know you’re having fun,” he starts, knuckles white with his annoyed grip on his pen, “but just know what’s coming to you later.”

“Later?” Your voice is teasing as you lean forward a little, your elbow on the desk as if you needed to get comfortable for the long haul. “Why do I have to wait?”

With a quiet sound, Wriothesley sets his pen down very carefully. All things considered, he’s been very patient with this. Too patient, with how keenly he’s aware of your pulse from the inside, how it skipped when his hand just wrapped around your hip. As coy as you try to be, Wriothesley knows your tells. 

You want the conclusion to this as badly as he does. And with that knowledge, now he’s ready to drag this out, to meet you blow for blow if you don’t relent. 

“We’re not warm enough, right?” His fingers dig into your hip, hold you still when you try to shift once more. One simple movement shifts control, places it firmly in his palm and he’s not going to let it go so easily. “And besides, our bedroom gets rather cold, too. Doesn’t it?”

The line of your throat shifts as you swallow harder than necessary, and you look over your shoulder at him with an obvious pout, “Maybe some friction will do the trick for now?”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Wriothesley asks, cocking his head to the side, mouth set in a line of disapproval. You don’t answer, but you don’t need to. It’s all a game, and playing along keeps you happy, but now he’s impatient. If you won’t let him win, then at least a draw will do.

With a sharp huff of air, your chest hits the desk as you’re pinned to it, hips digging into the edge as he leans his weight into you, pushing deeper into the warmth you so graciously tried to share. It’s easy to keep you there with a hand between your shoulder blades, easier still as he pulls back and thrusts forward once more. 

The sound you make echoes off the walls of his office, and he leans in to shush you, “Sh-sh-sh, don’t need anyone getting curious. You know how easily sound travels down the stairs.”

Rather than simply keep quiet, your palms slap over your mouth as if you can’t be bothered to completely hide how his cock feels inside you, fucking you open with slow, deep strokes. Faster might be better, it would make that friction you suggested, but the sweat beading at your temple makes him think that this is doing just fine. 

And either way, he likes doing it this way. Slow, methodical, keeping pace and hitting exactly where you need it to make your eyes roll behind fluttering lashes. The tips of your fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing into the skin and catching his eye. Subconsciously, his own fingers mimic that pressure into the skin of your back, keeping you still and prone for him. 

“You think if I made you scream, we could finish and get dressed before someone came to check on us?” He asks, a little grin cutting into his cheek as your eyes snap open to look at him. Quickly you shake your head, but he pushes for it anyway, picking up the pace and angling just right that you instinctively arch against it. 

When you don’t relent right away, he goes for it again - and again, and again, your body tensing and one of your feet kicking against the desk in either protest or reflex. It doesn’t matter which, he thinks, you’d be more upset if he stopped now, anyway.

“C’mon,” he urges, leaning closer, his chest aligned with your back as he gets down to your level, “just a little one? For me?”

Your head shakes. Wriothesley makes a sound of disappointment with his tongue behind his teeth. “If you don’t do it now, I’ll make it twice as worse later. Then you’ll have to look everyone in the eye knowing they’re aware I fucked you stupid.”

Maybe you’re too close to the edge, or maybe you realized that there’s no winning this one, but your hand slips and you cry out your release, palm slapping against the desk to push back against him in greedy ecstasy. 

Having been teetering on the edge for over an hour now, Wriothesley digs into your skin with his grip and finds his own pleasure in you. As you shudder beneath him, his breath rushes against your ear with each of his thrusts until you receive a much quieter sound of his satisfaction in return and the pulsing fullness that comes from him fucking it deeper with a few purposeful jerks of his hips.

Footsteps ring out on the metal stairs, and Wriothesley snaps back to reality with a huff and a chaste kiss beneath your ear. Something soft after all of that. With shaking hands, you fix your clothing and try to make yourself presentable. The sweat on your forehead is wiped off with the sleeve of Wriothesley’s coat, and he frowns but says nothing. 

There’s no time for admonishing when one of the guards knocks on the door and asks if the two of you are alright. Clearing your throat, you answer that everything is just fine, that the two of you are arguing. The guard laughs and leaves; it’s not the first time you’ve disagreed with him on something. 

Only when the footsteps fade away do you turn around and slap at his shoulder half-heartedly. And he laughs in return, a soft little thing as he holds his shoulder in mock-pain and taunts, “Another thing you’ll answer for later.”

[softpascalito]

Worth crossing a blizzard for - Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: During shooting for The Last of Us, a snowstorm hits Canada, essentially forcing Pedro to take the day off. Turns out its not as bad as he thinks.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader WC: 1600 Tags/Warnings: MDNI, RPF, Real-Person-Fiction, Non-Explicit Sex, showering together, Gender-neutral Reader, Snow, blizzard, Crew Reader, The Last of Us Shooting, Canada, Kissing, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Pedro Pascal, Healthy Relationships, Secret Relationship Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: i haven't written pedro in sooo long, i miss him. needless to say, this is the lil version i created of him in my head and not necesarily an accurate representation of his actual personality <3 also, this is another lil entry for stephs winter writing challenge with the trope warmth, i highly recommend checking the entire list if youre interested :) (@toomanystoriessolittletime)

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It starts with a light snowfall, little white particles floating through the air, rushing past the car as he drives back from set and a small sigh escapes his lips. It's been snowing on and off for weeks, usually meaning an earlier calltime for everyone, to make sure the locations can be cleared from the thin layer of snow if needed.

The wind has picked up by the time Pedro reaches the apartment that has been his home for the last few weeks and when he steps out of the shower half an hour later, the light snowfall has developed into a full-on blizzard, complete with cars honking in the streets below and his phone vibrating angrily, demanding attention. A rushed glance as he gets dressed confirms his suspicions. There's several warnings of severe weather, most of them due to hit tonight.

A gentle knock on the front door lets the man whip around and a small frown builds on his forehead as he crosses the hallway, taking a quick glance through the peephole. He practically yanks the door open.

You have your coat wrapped tightly around yourself, a knitted hat drawn down to your ears and a scarf wrapped around your neck. The two latter are practically soaked, decorated with little white crystals all over that are beginning to melt in the slightly warmer air of the hallway and dripping down onto the door mat.

Pedro stays still for a moment, taking in your form in front of him, before his brain registers what's going on. He reaches out, pulling you into the apartment, “What the hell were you thinking?”

The door closes behind you and the frown that decorated Pedros face a moment ago is now appearing on yours, “I- What?” For a split second you wonder if he's mad. He rarely gets a day off and even when he does, he usually spends it doing something, unable to just sit and relax, even for a little while. Maybe he's made plans for tonight and you've just crashed them.

“You can't be walking around in a blizzard like this, look at yourself,” he tuts, helping you take your wet coat off along with the hat and scarf and maneuvering them into the bathroom to hang them up to dry. You take your boots off carefully, gaze never leaving the man in front of you, “It's barely a twenty minute walk.”

“You're telling me you didn't even get a taxi?” He asks as he returns to the hallway and watches you put your shoes onto a small shoe tray.

“Does it look like I got a taxi?” You shoot back, getting a little irritated with how concerned he is. Immediately, Pedros gaze softens a bit and a small grumble escapes his throat as he takes a step forward, bringing his fingers up to your hair to carefully pick a snowflake out of it.

It melts between his fingers.

“No, you don't,” he muses, smiling a little sheepishly. “You could've called me. I would've picked you up.” You can't help but chuckle a little at that, “I did call you. You didn't pick up. The phone, I mean.” He stares at you for a moment, then back at his phone that has at least a dozen unread messages, then back to you, “Fuck, I- I was taking a shower, guess I didn’t hear-”

“It's fine,” you promise gently, standing on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on his cheek. Pedro sighs a little, taking in the way you’re looking at him and eventually nodding as he leads you further into the small apartment. It's spacious for one person but cozy for two, production of course not having calculated that you would be here too. You tried to stick to only sleeping over on weekends for a while, arguing that Pedro needed his rest and a quiet environment to go over his lines. He argued back that he slept a lot better with you beside him.

“You want a coffee?” He offers and you nod yes, following him to the open kitchen and hopping onto the counter as he grabs a mug for you.

“So you haven't read it yet?” You ask, rubbing your hands together in an effort to warm them up. “Read what?” His back is to you, the sound of the coffee machine starting almost drowning out his words. 

“Shoot is canceled for tomorrow. Probably until next week.”

Something about your tone makes him turn around to face you. He's in front of you a second later, hands resting on your waist as he studies your face, “And you're not happy about that?”

“Why would I? It sets us back at least two days and were already behind, at this rate reshoots-”

Pedro hums a little and squeezes your waist, causing you to fall quiet.

“I don't like it either but-”

You cut him off before you can stop yourself, shaking your head as you speak and lowering your gaze towards the floor, “It's just really bad timing and I have so much to do already and-”

“Hey, look at me.”

He squeezes again, a little harder this time, and one hand comes up to nudge your chin until you're looking right at him. You find soft brown eyes, the little patch in his beard you like so much and hair that's still a little damp from showering.

“It's snow. You can't do anything about snow.”

You let your head fall forward again, letting out a small sigh, “Yeah, I know.” Pedro gently brings his arms around you, holding you close for a moment. The coffee machine beeps, signaling that it's done. But he doesn't let go yet, rubbing your back a little instead.

“The way I see it,” he starts. “We may as well enjoy our night in. Even if it wasn't exactly planned. Plus, there's no way in hell I'll let you go back out there anyway.”

He does have a point. And a night off, especially a night off for both of you, doesn't sound too bad, even if it's constricted to the small apartment you're sitting in.

As soon as your coffee is empty and a few urgent messages are replied to, Pedro insists on a shower to warm you up. You're halfway to the bathroom before you turn around with a small smile on your face, “You're gonna let me shower alone?”

“I just showered,” Pedro replies almost automatically, putting your mug away. Then, he catches the small twinkle in your eye.

“You just showered,” you repeat, the smile still decorating your face and Pedro nods a few times before getting into motion.

“I guess I could do with another one.”

For once, there's no rush. You take your time, with the shower and everything that it includes. You spend what feels like a solid five minutes kissing afterwards, already scrubbed clean and so, so content. The air is steamy when you step out of the shower and Pedro really does treat you to the full experience, insisting on applying your lotion for you.

You hum contently as he gently massages it into your back, your muscles tingling with relief. He chuckles softly behind you, “Feeling a little warmed up already?”

“More than a little. Don't know how you do it.”

You lightly slap his ass on the way to the bedroom.

After securing your favorite sweater of his and some sweatpants, you find yourself in the kitchen again, rummaging through the cupboards to figure out what to cook up with the scarce ingredients available. You both usually eat on location or get some takeout on the way home, not to speak of the lack of cooking skill you both possess.

It ends up being pasta with some leftover greens and tomatoes and for once, you could swear it tastes ten times better than whatever takeout you could've gotten. You're cuddled up on the couch, staring out into the dark, gusts of snow still blowing past the window. The traffic jams have calmed down, the people returned to their houses to find shelter from the cold. Only a few lost ones are still wandering around, no doubt with a goal that justifies a walk through the conditions. You understand them.

Pedro watches a man disappear around the corner and swallows his mouthful of pasta, “Are you sure you didn't catch a cold?”

You smile weakly, “ Even if I did, it would be worth it. I'd trade a cold for a night off with you. You know that.” He chuckles a little, tilting his head slightly, “Just saying, it may be a little on the nose for both of us to get sick at the same time.”

You raise a brow as you finish your plate and gently put it down before cuddling into Pedro’s side, drawing your legs up onto the couch, “There's a blizzard. It's not that on the nose.”

The snowflakes landing on the window stay there for a few moments, glistening in the dim light from inside the apartment before the warmth seems to reach through the glass. One by one, they turn into small drops of water.

He considers your words for a moment before nodding, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right.” His arm wraps around you, pulling you in a little more as you rest your head against his shoulder. He leans down to plant a small kiss on your head and you hum contently, smiling to yourself.

The snowflakes melt on the window pane. You melt in Pedros arms.

Your voice is only a mumble.

“Besides- you can't do anything about snow.”

notes: hey babes! im considering a second part to this so let me know if that's something you'd like <3

[poppurini]

don’t smoke!! smoking is bad for ur lungs!! anyways imagine being a diasomnia student and heading out into the yard late at night bc you couldn’t sleep and happen to see lilia with a cigar between his middle and index finger, inches away from his parted lips that blew out smoke into the cold night. his facial expression was that of neutral with hooded eyelids in contrast to the usual wide smile and crescent red eyes plastered on his face. the man exhales, leaning back against his seat while letting out a small, quiet groan in his comfortable position and when he sees you, his brows rose up. a charming grin tugs at his lips as he beckons you over. a little cigarette won’t hurt, just a little; don’t you wish to try?

[softrozene]

Doing the little romantic things for their s/o

Anon asked: Welcome to the rdr2 community!! May I get some fluff hc for Arthur Charles and John? Them just doing the little romantic things for their s/o? Thank you ♥️

rdr2 masterlist

Omg yes and thank you! I hope you like these, anon!

These are probably on the shorter side since it’s the first request and first time writing them!

Originally published on January 10, 2020

Arthur, Charles, John x Reader (Gender-neutral/nonbinary)

Warnings: Just Fluff

Arthur Morgan

-

Romance isn’t his strongest suit but when he tries it is so dang obvious to everyone

He goes out of his way to make sure you know how much you mean to him

You get extra servings off his own plate

If you feel like someone is watching you- It’s him and he will do it straight-on, no shame at all

Sends you that small charming smile that makes your knees all weak

He’d be the doting wife everyone hears about

I’m not kidding either, he’ll act like he’s not or that something you want is a hassle but don’t worry, he’ll get it for you

He’d be the one to oil your guns without you asking

If you’re the type that needs to hear it, he’ll say he loves you

If not, it should be said all through his actions

Since he’s not one well for words- all the little things will be through awkward but sweet, sweet, gestures and materials

Charles Smith-

The motherfucking King of romance

He likes to be near his partner at all times

Even if he’s one for silence he’ll love to listen to your voice

He’s the hand-holder, he’ll want to hold your hand all the time

He doesn’t keep his eye on you all the time but it surely relaxes him whenever he sees you

He’ll pick flowers and plants for you first thing in the morning

Looks after your horse when you can’t

1000% takes you on nature rides just to be in your presence in peace

If you don’t know how to hunt he’ll teach you the basics and watch as you grow to be a better hunter

He doesn’t go to sleep until you do

He’ll always be willing to teach you or learn from you

Since he’s already a hard worker around camp, he’ll try and do your chores too

Will always profess his love before missions

John Marston-

He probably has some kind of PTSD from his relationship with Abigail ngl so he’ll be more like Arthur

He’s not sure what to do or how to act like but he’ll always keep an eye out for you

Makes sure you are stocked with ammo/knives just to be on the safe side

Gets you only the best jewelry/watches he manages to steal

He is not good with words so he’ll relay his love to you through actions

Always cracks a joke with you- especially if he knows it’s not your day

If you ask him for something poor boy would probably ask a million questions out of habit with Abigail but he’ll get it for you in a heartbeat

Use a gentle tone with him- He’ll be so soft and gentle with you

Most of his affection will be shown while you’re asleep, he’ll play with your hair, caress your face, make sure you aren’t too cold or too hot- It’s just easier for him

[bloomingapricots]

Eclipsing the Sun

Updated here first at AO3

Ending One Destiny’s Design, the best ending

Btw I edited chapter one a bit

Life | Destiny’s Design (here) | Threaded Fate

Chapter Two | Ending One | Destiny's Design

You slowly sat up from the mat you were laid on. You did not expect to survive your poisoning if you were to be honest.

“Oh, Xiongjie is awake!” A young voice commented, which you snapped your head to turn to look at.

“Oh my god.” you accidentally slipped out. “A-Yuan!?”

“Wen Duzhe,” you may or may not have screamed as you realized Lan Zhan was on the other side of your bed. As it turned out, you put yourself in a coma and missed the ending battle, as well as missed the discussion of what to do with the Wen remnants. Despite your contribution in bringing down a good majority of the Wens, there were many who called for your death, so Lan Zhan carried you to Yiling where the remnants of your clansmen are.

—

“Wen Duzhe!” Wei Ying ran up to you as you exited the hut you were staying at.

“Wei Wuxian,” You stated as you walked slowly toward Wei Ying.

“Wen Duzhe?” Wei Ying questioned as he slowed down after noticing your mood.

“W.e.i.W.u.x.i.a.n!” You are slowly repeating Wei Ying’s name. Wei Ying stopped five feet from you before slowly walking away from you. “You idiot!” you started chasing after Wei Ying when he started running from you.

“Wen Duzhe, why are you chasing me!?” Wei Ying yelped.

“Why, huh? I don’t know, maybe because you left me with your Sect!” you yelled your reply. As mentioned before, you had done the same stunt at Cloud Recesses before at Lotus Pier. But then Wei Ying had left with Wen Qing, leaving your unconscious self at Lotus Pier. Standing between Madam Jiang’s and Jiang Cheng’s wrath was Jiang Yanli as you befriended the girl back at Cloud Recesses. “Jiang Cheng did not like me back then, and he definitely does not like me right now!” You tackled Wei Ying to the ground and pinched his cheeks.

“Wait! Wait! Yield! I yield!” Wei Ying yelped as you started bonking his head with yours. “Please have mercy!”

—

You are in a meeting to discuss the future of the remaining Wens with Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, Wen Qing, and,

“It’s that A-Ning!?” You squealed and pointed at the fierce corpse that is your cousin.

“Duzhe-xiongjie,” Wen Ning mumbled. You may or may not have cried at your failure to save Wen Ning from becoming a fierce corpse. After crying from not only being unable to save Wen Ning from his fate but also breaking down from the heavy burden you had carried since transmigrating into MDZS.

“Feeling better, Wen Duzhe?” Wei Ying asked as he gently patted your back. You sniffed before replying,

“Not really, but I will be,” You sighed.

“Duzhe-dimei[4],” Wen Qing called.

“Yes?” You replied.

“I... I know you're in shock, but I must ask, how long did you plan that?” Wen Qing asked.

“... Plan what?” You replied. That is a too stupid response you thought, internally screeching. Wen Qing looked at you unconvinced and disappointed.

“You know what I mean,” Wen Qing now looked disappointed and upset, not the angry upset that often appeared on her face. But the helpless upset that you would sometimes see only when Wen Qing thought she was alone. A hand gently grabbed your right hand, and it was Lan Zhan who was holding your right hand.

“Wen Duzhe, it is not good to lie,” Lan Zhan too looked upset in his subtle way. He was even patting your right hand.

“It was surprising to see you appear at Yunmeng and then poison your own clan, a simple spread of powder that easily weakened your clansmen,” Wei Ying said. You internally sweated as Wen Qing was in front of you, Wei Ying was behind you, Lan Zhan was at your right, and Wen Ning was at your left. You are boxed in, you cannot escape from this conversation.

“At Gusu too,” Lan Zhan added.

“Duzhe-dimei, please,” Wen Qing pleaded.

“...” You sighed. “Alright, I give,” You begin to explain that since your preteens, you had always known that your sect leader was an awful person and that his sons would be too. So you plan to poison everyone but the children, the elderly, and the innocents. You researched and experimented on plants that at first would remain dormant, only to become poisonous by another plant mixed in.

“And you tested yourself?” Wen Ning asked, remembering your lab in a hidden cave.

“Yes,” You replied.

“Duzhe-dimei!” Wen Qing went to your left to clench at your left hand, Wen Ning moved out of the way. “You-! You went to the infirmary so many times I-I, was that the reason?“ She checked your meridians as you nodded your head. You felt Lan Zhan pouring his spiritual energy into you.

“As mentioned, the poison is two steps. Part one was a tasteless, undetectable, dormant poison that was to be ingested with food I helped prepare, and part two was a powdered poison that was to be inhaled. I have fed everyone who shared our sect leader’s ideology part one, and during the battles, I spread part two,” You snickered “Well part one was not technically a poison as it would not have gotten past the poison test tasters, hence why the poisoning process was in two parts,”

“Wen Duzhe, your golden core, and dantian. Even your meridian is…” Lan Zhan said.

“Even if someone survived, the poison will devour their cultivation.” You smiled an empty smile.

“Then-!” Wen Qing channeled her spiritual energy as noticed what Lan Zhan noticed. “How are you still alive!?”

“It surprised me too, to be honest. I had planned to die after taking down the forces in Gusu, but here we are,” You shrugged. You were then hugged fiercely by Wei Ying from behind.

“Y-you stupid- foolish- whatever!” Wen Qing sobbed. Better me than Wei Ying, as this was his place, you thought.

“Better me than you guys,” You said.

—

After being scolded and lectured with the promise of being hut-arrested to heal. Your group went on to discuss the next topic, the future.

“I think we should change our last name,” You suggested. “It would be good to separate ourselves from Wen to something else,”

“To what though?” Wen Qing asked. You gave a shit-eating grin and looked at Wei Ying.

“To Wei!” You cheerfully suggested.

“Huh!?” Wei Ying flinched in surprise, which meant jostling you as Wei Ying moved to your left, throwing an arm around your shoulder. Lan Zhan is still holding your right hand and channeling his spiritual energy.

“You did a lot for my family, Wei Ying, and I would be more than happy if we could become family,” You said.

“I don’t refute that,” Wen Qing commented.

“I would like that as well,” Wen Ning added.

“Ah, but then there are the more bloodthirsty cultivators. We probably need a clan to back us up,” You looked at Wei Ying and then at Lan Zhan. “Since Wei Ying is here and given that Jiang Cheng doesn’t like me..” You trailed off and the others got what you meant, Yunmeng Jiang is a no-go. “Lan Zhan, do you think you could convince your family?”

“...hm, I will make sure,” Lan Zhan replied.

“Don’t stick your head out for us too much, Lan Zhan. I do not want you to be in trouble,” You added.

“I want you to be safe,” Lan Zhan said.

“Thank you,” You had a dumb thought and since you were still very drained, you voiced it “Eheheh I had a dumb thought, even if we became Yiling Wei, Wei Ying is considered a traitor to the Jiang, and I don’t know, what if Wei Ying and I married Lan Zhan,” However Lan Zhan stared thoughtfully at you and Wei Ying. “Lan Zhan?”

—

“Huh,” Somehow, you are in Jingshi which has been decorated in vibrant reds. You too are decorated in vibrant reds, in the bridal wedding robes red. Wei Ying is also sitting next to you, in bridal wedding robes, on the bed decorated in red. In the Jingshi which has been decorated in red for a wedding couple, technically throuple in this situation.

“You alright Shen Duzhe?” Jiang Yanli asked, giggling, after hiding Wei Ying’s shoes. Since you were to be married to Lan Zhan and Wei Ying, you decided to change your last name to Shen instead of Wei like all your other relatives.

“...No,” You replied.

“This was your idea,” Wei Qing said after hiding your shoes.

“I, I was joking,” You whined. Wei Qing was about to respond but heard a disciple announcing that Lan Zhan was coming soon.

“Your groom is coming soon, time for us to go,” Wei Qing and Jiang Yanli quickly left.

“Wei Ying, how the fuck did we get here?” You asked.

“It surprised me, too. After our meeting, that fuddy-duddy went and got permission for marriage, to me and you,” Wei Ying replied.

“I expected Lan Zhan to marry you, but me too?” You questioned.

“Huh? Me? Why not you? I thought he would marry you,” Wei Ying replied.

“Well, even though Lan Zhan does get annoyed with you, there is a look of fondness in his eyes towards you from what I observed,” You explained.

“Huh? When we go night hunting together, he sticks to you constantly,” Wei Ying said.

“What? We are not supposed to go by ourselves, though?” You questioned. You and Wei Ying stared at each other, probably. Your red veil and his red veil are hiding your face from each other. Wei Ying lifted his veil to show his face then he lifted your veil to see your face.

“Shen Duzhe, what do you feel about Lan Zhan and what do you feel about me? After all, I’m married as the main wife and Lan-furen but you married as just a consort,” Wei Ying asked.

“I…” You pondered and thought deeply about your feelings. “I do like you and Lan Zhan, but you and Lan Zhan are destined to be together. I don’t know why I’m here,”

“...I want to sleep with Lan Zhan and you,” Wei Ying stated. 

“Huh!?” If your cheeks were any thinner, you might have blushed. Wei Ying made direct eye contact with you and he can tell you are flustered. The door to Jingshi opened and Wei Ying put back his veil and your veil as well. Lan Zhan was quick to find Wei Ying’s shoes and your shoes. Lan Zhan left Wei Ying’s and your shoes by the bed.

“Wei Ying, Shen Duzhe,” Lan Zhan called.

“Lan Zhan-er-gege~” Wei Ying replied.

“Ugh,” You replied in embarrassment. You begin to grow even more flustered, as now is the consummation. You internally questioned if you really were going to have a threesome. Lan Zhan stepped closer to you and Wei Ying. Taking off your veil and Wei Ying’s veil, you stared at Lan Zhan’s face, blue screening.

“Shen Duzhe,” Lan Zhan called. He was standing between your legs, holding you in his arms. You felt Wei Ying move to sit as close as possible to you, side-hugging you and laying his head on your shoulder. Your mind is too empty to think. Wei Ying chuckled near your ears and you shivered as his breath hit your ear. Lan Zhan moved his face close to yours but he ended up kissing Wei Wing over your shoulder. WangXian is kissing over your shoulder while they are hugging you.

“I think A-Duzhe needs a moment, how about you play with this wife first~“

[4]  Like how xiongjie probably means “older siblings” 弟妹 dimei would probably mean “younger siblings”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I have not reached at any point, till now, of writing about kissing in any fanfiction

Next stop, ending Two Threaded Fate aka angst ending

[the-average-media-enjoyer]

A Case Study in the Improper Use of Negator Powers (Shen Xiang/Reader, NSFW)

Here I am, putting the very first Shen/reader fic into the world because if there's no erotica of him I must be the one to write it. Small warning for use of Shen’s negator powers so there are a couple of moments where the reader does the opposite of what they want to, but not in like a major consent-violating way.

Relationship: Shen Xiang/Gender-Neutral AFAB Reader

Summary: In which you knock on Shen’s door to ask a simple question, but a rather inappropriate use of his ability leads to further shenanigans.

Contents: Blowjob, dirty talk, vaginal sex, biting, face-fucking, hair-pulling

Word Count: 4,045

~~~~

You knock on the door to Shen’s room for what feels like the millionth time this week. To be fair, you both were prepping for an upcoming mission, but you still sought out every excuse to exchange even a few small words with him. Each and every conversation felt almost electric, even if it was about something as boring as scheduling. His constant compliments, praise, and very slight flirting didn’t help. Even though you didn’t dare to do more than chat, you still looked forward to every meeting.

And so here you were. Instead of opening the door himself, you hear Shen call out, “Come on in, it’s unlocked!” You take a deep breath before you open the door.

You take a few steps into his office and spot Shen writing something at his desk. There’s also a plush loveseat nearby, but he doesn’t spare it a glance. He raises his head for a moment and gives you a smile before returning to his work. “So, what did you need my help with?”

You shift nervously on your feet. “Oh, nothing much! Just wanted to double-check what time we’re heading out tomorrow for the mission.” Interactions like this had become routine since you started helping out the Union and working with Shen, but you couldn’t help the way being near him made you feel.

“Oh, we’re leaving at 8:30 in the morning!” He pauses for a moment before raising his head to meet your gaze. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? In fact, I’m certain that I already informed you of our leaving time, and I know that you’re a very organized person. You would never forget something as important as that, would you?”

“Ah, um.” You look away and take a step back from him, accidentally kicking the door shut in the process. You try and search for the words to explain yourself, but Shen follows up before you have the chance.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you make the effort to walk over here and ask me if you already knew the departure time?” As he speaks, Shen rises from his chair and approaches you. ”Now that I think about it, you’ve been making a lot of visits to my room lately for things that could’ve been a text or an email.”

This situation is turning more desperate by the second. With the added pressure, you manage to squeak out an excuse. “Oh, I just forgot, that’s all! And I was passing by your room anyways, so I figured I’d just pop by and ask.” Even as he draws closer, you refuse to look him in the eye. You knew your heart couldn’t take it.

Shen halts just a foot in front of you. “While you are fantastic at coming up with believable excuses, you’re still a terrible liar.” He cocks his head and asks, “So, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve been paying me so many visits lately? What do you truly want from me?”

The only way out was through more lies. You could never let him know what you thought of him, of the fantasies that played out in your mind that motivated you to seek him out. In an effort to appear more believable, you raised your head to look at him straight on. You opened your mouth to give more excuses, praying that he would let you go.

But just before you were about to speak, Shen closed his left eye and you felt something shift. And you proceed to do exactly the opposite of what you want to do.

You begin to list everything you want to do with Shen.

“I’m here because I can’t stop thinking about you and everything I need you to do to me. God, when I look at this room I can’t help but imagine you fucking me over the desk or eating me out on that velvet couch. I need you to bite me all over, whisper degrading things into my ear, and yank my hair as you fuck my face. You have no idea how wet it makes me when I think about you calling me a good-”

Shen looks to his left, deactivating his ability. “I think I’ve heard enough. ” You’re at a complete loss for words as you feel your cheeks burning up. You don’t even try to muster up an apology. You just attempt to turn around and hurry out of there as soon as possible, but as your head turns, you suddenly find that you can’t move your body.

Shen once again has one eye trained on you as he tuts. “No, we can’t be having that.” Instead of starting to rip you to shreds like you thought he would, he gives you a wide, mischievous smile. “That’s a very long list of very dirty things you want me to do to you. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ll have time for all of them tonight.”

He deactivates his ability, no longer keeping you in place. He waits another moment to see if you’ll move. When you don’t make a move to leave, he slams his right arm against the door, pinning you against it. He uses his left hand to cup your face and leans close to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know you want me, I have no reason to hold back.”

His kiss begins softly at first despite his big talk. After a moment of shock, you begin to kiss him back, matching his pace and putting your hands on the sides of his neck. You can feel him smile at your reciprocation as he begins to kiss you with more fervor, pushing his tongue into your mouth. You whimper in pleasure at his intrusion, which just encourages him further.

You didn’t want to stand there, just letting him have his way with you. You push your tongue back against his, intertwining the two muscles. You try your best to match his energy. His left hand moves to grip at your waist, putting pressure against you but not enough to cause pain. Between the steamy kisses, you can feel his hot breath on your lips, and you can almost taste his impatience.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee and pushes it against your crotch. He lightly grinds against your clit, just enough to tease. You break from the kiss, breathing heavily at the stimulation and sudden escalation. You hear him let out a laugh before he leans close and says, “You like that? You seem to enjoying yourself based on those heavenly sounds you’re making.”

It was only as he said that when you realize how loud you’re being. Your embarrassment resurfaces as you cover your mouth with your hand, muffling your moans. Shen puts a hand under your chin and tilts your head upwards so that you’re looking up at him. Then, in an instant, you feel your hand fall slack to your side without your interference.

His eyes are almost glowing as he chides, “I don’t want to have to resort to this to hear you. Be good for me and quit trying to quiet down, yeah? I know you can do it.” His praise does something funny to your mind. As long as he phrased his request like that, Shen could probably get you to do anything.

Shen smiles and continues to stare down at you, even after deactivating his power. His hands ghost around your hips for a moment before moving upwards to push up your shirt. He keeps an eye on your expression and can tell that you want more. The movements of his knee halt to focus on the new task at hand. His head dips down to kiss your neck as he pushes the hem of your shirt further and further up your body, your breathing speeding up as his hands travel. The fabric of his gloves feels surprisingly soft against your skin; the opposite of what you expected. His fingertips rest just below your chest for a moment, and you can feel his kisses pause as he smirks into your neck before he finally reaches up to fully grasp your chest.

You gasp from surprise and pleasure, but Shen doesn’t stop there. He begins to toy with your nipples as he kisses just below your collarbone. He gives you a mischievous glance before he sucks at your skin and bites down. You let out a loud moan. Shen raises his eyebrows before gaining a look of resolve. His motions around your nipples grow rougher as he begins to kiss, suck, and bite all across your chest. As his mouth travels, his hand fondles and rubs at the opposite breast.

You can barely stand it. It’s an almost overstimulation of pleasure, and he isn’t even rubbing against your clit anymore! “Shen… fuck, Shen!” You can’t respond in a full sentence, made helpless by Shen’s constant barrage. You gasp when he begins to tease your nipple with his tongue, throwing your head back against the door. When he bites down, you gently pull his head off of you. It’s just too much.

He draws back a bit and asks, “Is everything alright?” with a concerned expression.

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine! It’s just… Christ, I need a moment to breathe.” As you take a moment to calm down, you look down at your chest to see it covered in Shen’s handiwork: tons of purple bruises. You feel your core grow warm at the sight.

He notices what you’re staring at and remarks, “Like what you see? I personally think the shade compliments your complexion quite well.” You squirm a little at his comment before changing the subject.

“This all feels rather one-sided… as much as I adore being pampered, I want to make you feel good as well…”

Shen chuckles and tilts his head. “Is that so?” He places a hand on your waist and the other by your head against the door. He once again nudges your legs apart with his thigh, but instead of grinding his knee against you, he grinds his cock. You can feel its hardness through the layers of clothing as it rubs teasingly against your core.

You hear him groan by your ear and say, “Fuck, I can feel how warm you are.” He continues to rut against your core and you rest your hands on the bare skin of his hips, your fingers rubbing circles and slipping undeath the surrounding fabric. Your eyes were always drawn to these hip cutouts whenever you snuck a glance at Shen’s form. Pleasure creeps up your body as he continues to rut against you, but… it isn’t enough.

“Shen, I… I want more.” To show him what you mean, you slowly drag a hand from his hip to the front of his crotch, giving it a squeeze to punctuate your words. You heard a brief gasp and a barely suppressed moan.

He breathes heavily in your ear and manages to ask between his gasps, “What did you have in mind?” You take a small step back and place your hands on his hips to maneuver him so he leans against the door. Then, you drop to your knees. Shen grins at your actions. “You always come up with the best ideas.”

He reaches down to undo his belt as you stare up at him, giddy with excitement. He smirks as he draws the low-hanging panel of his top to the side and pulls out his cock. Your eyes move from his face downwards, and your breath catches in your chest. It stands at full mast a mere few inches from your face. He’s a little bigger than you anticipated… but you think you can take it.

You don’t notice that you’ve been silently staring at his dick for a bit. He looks down at you, tilts his head, and teases, “Well? Don’t get all shy on me now.” You blink up at him for a moment before dipping forward to lick a stripe up his shaft. You can feel him shutter at the first contact. Now emboldened, you take the head into your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue around it as you gauge his reaction. His gasps drifting down from above to fill your ears encourage you. You sink your mouth down further to take his shaft into your mouth, bobbing up and down, gradually taking in more and more.

“Mmm, fuck, hah. Keep going.” His words give you another surge of confidence, taking him in until your nose rests in his happy trail. He takes in a sharp breath and places a hand on your chin, encouraging you to keep your head there for a moment longer, but not forcing you. After a few seconds his hand moves to settle in your hair and he lets out a sigh mixed with a moan as you draw back. You continue to suck him off, now trying to take as much of him as you can with each movement of your head. When you take a moment to rub your tongue against his shaft or suck on the head, you are rewarded with the sweetest groans you’ve ever heard.

With his hand still resting in your hair, he begins to lightly thrust into your mouth to match your movements. After a few shallow thrusts, he freezes and looks down at you. You stare back up in confusion for a moment before he speaks.

“You said you wanted me to fuck your face earlier, right? Would you like that now, or another time?” Your cheeks flush and you give a little noise of affirmation with your lips still wrapped around the tip of his dick. You see his expression falter when he feels the vibrations of your small noise around his cock. He entwines the fingers of one hand in your hair while the other drops to hold and caress your cheek. You keep your head still and feel your core grow warmer as he once again starts to lightly thrust into the moist warmth of your mouth.

You moan and slightly move to match his thrusts, incredibly pleased by his actions. You hear a short bark of a laugh. “God, you really do like it rough, huh?” His words encourage you and you hollow out your cheeks which earns you a surprised moan from Shen. You catch a glance at his blissed-out expression before his thrusts begin to pick up speed. You brace your hands on his hips as he continues, moving faster and taking a moment to tease his head at your lips.

All this is turning you on immensely, and you begin to rub your thighs together, seeking stimulation. It isn’t enough, especially compared to how Shen seems to be feeling. Your left hand abandons his hip in favor of reaching down to grind against your clit through your pants. It’s still not enough.

While trying to concentrate on not choking on Shen’s cock, you push your hand past the waistband of your pants to touch your clit directly. You first dip your fingers down to your entrance, gathering a bit of the accumulated slick on your fingertips before you set a steady rhythm of rubbing against your clit. You moan and whimper a little around his dick, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are closed and his mind is occupied by how much pleasure you’re making rock through his body.

His thrusts slow and you think he might cum, but he instead pulls back, his cock releasing from your mouth with a wet pop. The movement of your hand stops as you stare up at him in confusion. “Why’d you stop?”

He smiles and matter-of-factly states, “I can’t cum quite yet when I still haven’t fucked you over the desk like you wanted.” As he comes down from his pleasure high, his eyes drift over your form and settle on your crotch. You realize that your hand is still down your pants, and you stiffen in embarrassment before quickly removing it and tucking it behind your back.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were that impatient! I’ll have to speed things along in that case. I don’t want you to feel left out.” He reaches down and yanks you up by the hand to draw you over to his desk. He tuts at the sight of all the papers covering it but quickly decides to shove everything off to make room. He grasps your hip to guide you in front of the desk with his hard member resting against the swell of your ass. He then presses a palm into your back, gently pushing you to bend over and rest the side of your face against the wood surface.

He leans down and brushes your hair aside to kiss your neck. It’s a moment of tenderness, a brief respite from the chaos of this entire encounter. He continues as his hands work to unbutton and pull down your pants and undergarments, his kisses growing rougher and needier as more of your bare skin is exposed.

You can hear the sound of him drawing the fabric of his top to the side and you soon feel the head of his cock rest against your entrance. He shifts to look you in the eye before checking in one last time: “You're ready for this, right?”

You smile and nod. “Yeah, go ahead.” He responds by breaching your opening, pushing the head of his cock inside of you. You let out a moan of satisfaction at finally being filled. He takes a moment to gauge your reaction before pushing further in, millimeter by millimeter. Your fingers grasp the edge of the desk, your grip tightening as he fully sheathes himself inside of you. Shen lets out a satisfied sigh and lovingly caresses your hip before he starts to thrust.

This doesn’t feel real to you. The man you’ve fantasized about for months finally has you bent over a desk, railing you into oblivion. And it’s even better than you could’ve imagined.

Shen slowly speeds up, his hands gripping your hips and holding you in place. His panting and groans tell you that he’s enjoying this as much as you. Then his right hand moves upwards, tracing a path up your back until it reaches your hair. He combs his fingers through it for a second before he asks, “You said you wanted me to pull your hair, right?”

You can’t seem to get an answer past your whimpers of pleasure, so you opt to nod the best you can against the desk. This answer doesn’t satisfy him.

“Mmmm, not good enough. I’m gonna need you to tell me exactly what you want.” A playful smile teases at his lips as he speaks, and his eyes are looking down at you full of adoration. His thrusts don’t slow even for a second during this spectacle, keeping a steady rhythm that steadily inches you further and further into the depths of pleasure.

You huff out an exasperated breath before managing to force out a desperate answer. “God, please pull my hair already, Shen!” He barks out a laugh and the hand in your hair grips into a fist.

“Of course, beautiful.” He hanks your head back, bringing your head off the desk a bit. The pain sends an electric current through your whole body and you can’t help but let out a noise that almost sounds like a scream. He keeps the tension of his hand tight as he continues to fuck you, his thrusts getting a bit more forceful to match his actions. You can feel your knees growing weak as you feel the end in reach.

He bends over you, his front pressing against your back, til his mouth is breathing hot against your neck. The hand in your hair moves to pull down the collar of your shirt. He gives the base of your neck a brief, sloppy kiss before he bites down. The shutter that courses through your body eggs him on, and he continues to suck and bite at your neck. He also adjusts the angle of his hips slightly downward as he bites, and he hits a new angle that you think is going to make you pass out.

“Shen, right there! Ah, Shen if you keep this up, I’m- ahn, I’m close!” His matching pants and desperate moans tell you he’s also getting close.

“Just a bit more, right? I’ll give you a little something more than just my cock.” His hand leaves your head to snake around your thigh, giving it a squeeze before rubbing against your clit. The stimulation of him hitting your sweet spot while relentlessly rubbing your clit through the rough fabric of his glove is almost too much to handle.

“God, fuck! Just like that, I’m-”

He tilts his head so that you can feel his hot breath on your ear and whispers, “Go on, then.” He licks the shell of your ear and a teasing nip at your earlobe sends you over the edge.

You can’t form words as you’re in the throes of your release. You can feel your legs tremble and almost give out beneath you as every part of your body light aflame. Shen never falters, continuing to thrust and rub you through your orgasm.

Soon the pleasure of orgasm turns to the odd tingle of overstimulation, but you don’t have to bear it long. Shen’s hands move to grip your hips again, holding them in place as he thrusts a final few times before you hear a groan of satisfaction and feel his warm release fill you. He finally stills, and the only sounds that fill the air are your and Shen’s exhausted panting.

He gently grips your chin and positions your face to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “Thank you for being so good for me. How about we get you cleaned up?” Even after all that, he was still considerate of your needs right afterward. You nod, but a strange warmth in your heart prompts you to quietly ask, “Can we stay like this for a little while longer?”

He answers you by wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a soft kiss on the shoulder. “Of course.”

*******

After making use of the en-suite bathroom, you drag him to cuddle for a bit on the loveseat, your hair still wet. You sit in blissful silence for a while, but he shatters it by saying something completely out of left field.

“You know, you listed a lot more that we didn’t get to tonight. I still haven’t eaten you out, degraded you, or fucked on this couch, and I’m sure you were about to list even more things before I-”

You cut him off by burying your face in his shoulder, your cheeks instantly flushed. “Please… no more.”

He smiles as if he wasn’t just teasing you with your own explicit fantasies. “You were the one who said you wanted those things, no?”

“That was only cause you forced me to say them, you bastard! You know, you can be a real piece of work sometimes!” You raise your voice slightly, feigning anger even though you aren’t truly mad at him.

His reaction puzzles you for a moment. His eyes go wide and he blinks at you, not saying a word. You only realize what’s happened after you detect the lightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. After a few moments, he regains his composure and pulls you close, petting your hair.

“Hm… it’s only fair that I make my own list of fantasies as well, and I think there are some things that I need to… explore. That sound good to you?”

You opt to nod in response, your cheek brushing against his shoulder as you do. You don’t need to see his face to know the look he’s giving you right now. The feeling of his fingers combing through your hair and his warm body pressing against yours makes you feel the most comfortable you’ve felt in months, and it’s enough to lull you into a light, cozy slumber.

[everythingmarvelbxm1012]

Not Normal

Summary - What do you do when you walk into your kitchen at 3 AM and a stranger is looking for supplies?

Notes - Takes place soon after the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, hours after the post-credit scene with Bucky in the museum. 1.1k words

*Don’t repost or translate my work without my permission. *These characters and world do not belong to me.

You were dealing with A LOT of things. For one, you were just fired from one of your jobs that morning; two, your phone had suddenly died part way through the day and for whatever reason your charger was not working; three, your grandmother had quickly called to ask when you were getting married after your sister, who was four years younger than you, had gotten engaged the day prior; and four, your groceries dumped everywhere after the bag broke at the bottom. So you were definitely not in the mood to walk into your kitchen around 3 AM to find a stranger rummaging through your cabinets and drawers.

You nearly screamed upon seeing the figure. He was covered nearly head-to-toe in dark clothing. Pants, boots, a t-shirt and hoodie, though his right arm had been removed from the sleeve and the short sleeve of the t-shirt rolled up. He had brown hair that nearly reached his shoulders. Fortunately, you had powers. You didn’t know where they came from, but you had used them enough to feel comfortable to defend yourself, so you just let yourself be angry.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” What you hadn’t realized was that the man hadn’t really registered that you were standing there and he quickly swiveled on his heel, raising a gun.

“Who are you?”

‘What the hell kind of a question is that,’ you thought to yourself. You cleared your throat. “The person whose kitchen you just broke into!” You stated, disdain written in your voice. You stood there, looking over the small pile of first-aid things he had piled onto your island kitchen. Before you could ask any questions he was talking again.

“Don’t scream. Just need supplies. Bullet to the shoulder,” he mumbled. He mumbled it so quietly you wondered if he was just trying to reassure himself of what he was doing rather than telling you. The gun was still raised though the arm that held it almost seemed to lose some tension, if that was the right way to put that.

“What are you doing in my kitchen,” you emphasized the ‘my.’ You knew why he was in a kitchen, just unsure of why it was your’s.

He slowly lowered the gun a few inches, but it wasn’t completely facing down. You knew you could protect yourself if you needed to. “Look. I don’t want to start trouble,” he stated a little more forcefully, the muscles in his jaw tightened momentarily before loosening again.

“You started trouble when you broke into MY kitchen!” You stood there, unmoving, unfazed by his slight change in demeanor.

He lifted some gauze from the kitchen island, only staring down at it before speaking again. “Look lady, I just need to patch myself up. Then I’m gone.”

“You’re not going to do it well with one arm,” you responded. Nobody could possibly patch up a bullet wound in the shoulder with one arm. He didn’t respond, just tried to glance over at the wound, before reaching toward it with his other arm which is hidden by the sleeve of his hoodie. “No! You cannot do it with one arm,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. “If you are going to steal my things, don't waste them.” He slowly lowered the gun, though he kept finger around the trigger.

If it was a more reasonable hour you might have kicked the stranger out, but you weren’t about to let him waste the good money you spent on those items. Before he could stop you, and honestly before you were even thinking all of it though you were pulling more supplies out of your kitchen drawers before organizing them a bit more. You forcefully pointed towards the stool. “Sit.”

There is a short pause before the stranger places his gun at his hip and sits in the stool. There is another moment of silence as you wash your hands before standing by his shoulder and letting out a heavy sigh. “Have you removed the bullet?”

The man shook his head. You nodded, knowing it was better to leave the bullet in there than remove it, in case it lodged itself into or near a vein, or other nerve endings. “Good.” You turned on the light hanging above where the mystery man sat to get a better view, before pulling a soft washcloth from the drawer near you and before opening the bottle of saline solution already on the counter. You proceeded to get some saline solution over the cloth before beginning to clean the wound without looking away from your work.

You looked up momentarily, actually getting a better visual of his face under the light. His jaw was clenched and his blue eyes would have been more pleasant except that they were rather stern, cold, calculated, as he looked just past you. Whatever he was feeling in that moment, you would not be able to figure out. His face seemed to be absolutely blank. If he was in pain he was not showing it at that moment.

You then went back to your work, noting for the first time how it did not look horrible, making you wonder how long ago it had happened and how long he had been dodging around people’s homes and taking supplies. You finished cleaning the wound and the area before throwing the washcloth to the side. He was damned lucky to be alive, but his presence was still a bit unnerving so you chose to not mention the fortunate situation of that. You pulled some gauze and slowly wrapped the wound and the area, carefully, making sure to not wrap it too tightly. “There, done.”

You took a few steps back, not bothering to look at your work and pulling a half-full bottle of ibuprofen and Tylenol from the cabinet as he sat there, seemingly unable to move. You shoved them into his other hand, which you realized was gloved, which you thought odd but did not spend too much thinking about it. Something inside of you felt sorry for the man. All you knew was that some guy had been shot and apparently needed to sneak supplies, so maybe that should have been a red flag. What surprised you is that he actually spoke up.

“You’re not normal, are you?” His voice was completely even, face still blank.

“Depends upon how you define normal.”

There was more silence, before he spoke again. “Well, most people probably won’t patch up a guy who broke into their house, then give them medicine.”

“Maybe.” You only shrugged before deciding it was time to sleep. Okay, maybe you helped patch the guy up, but you didn’t trust him enough to let him stay on your couch. For all you knew you were harboring a fugitive. “I do need you to leave now.” He didn’t even nod, just slipped the painkillers into his pocket without another word, before exiting through the main door to your apartment leaving you with a million questions you didn’t get answers to for a few years.

[luna-redamancy]

hi!

may we please have lord elrond with a reader whos always sleepy?

i get butterflies when i think of him being in love with his sleepy beau!

thank you!!

<3

“Elrond?” You were in a daze, sleep blurring your vision as you blinked them open. It looked like a hallway, you noted as you felt yourself being moved. 

“Shh…” Elrond gently cooed, pressing a kiss to your temple as you curled into his chest once you realized it was him who had a hold of you whilst he continued carrying you to your shared chambers. 

“Where we…” Your words drifted off as sleep threatened to overtake you once more, “Goin?” You finally finished as you opened your eyes wide to try and keep them open in a desperate attempt to stay awake- but he was just so warm. 

“You can sleep, my darling,” His words were so caring, the love in them like a warm blanket wafting over you. “I’m taking you up to our chambers,” 

“What about the meeting?” You spoke soft as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. You recalled the introduction, a kind gentleman- a merchant if you recalled correctly, then as one of the guests followed his introduction with an opening discussion on trade routes all you could remember was feeling oh so sleepy.

“It ended my darling, it’s alright,” Elrond hushed you again, sleep overtaking you as you nodded. 

You were practically always tired, never fully getting enough sleep at night so whenever your mind wasn’t properly stimulated or you were left alone to your own devices, you often napped. 

There were so many instances where Elrond found you sleeping, it was now an expectation to see his beloved napping away in an armchair of the library, the sun hitting you just right to make you feel so so warm. 

As he walked down the hall, Elrond couldn’t help but remember when you fell asleep in his study just yesterday. 

The two of you were taking a break, having been through two meetings, walking the grounds to discuss possible architectural needs of the Imladris- he was surprised you didn’t excuse yourself to rest since you seemed so exhausted. 

But moments like these, they were what he held closest to his heart. 

Elrond started a small fire in the fireplace, bringing out a blanket from the cabinet and pulled out one of your favorite books. 

You were curled up on his chest, the blanket overlaying the two of you as his fingers ran through your hair and along the back of your neck. He was reading out loud in a soft voice, and that combined with the warm blanket and the soothing sensations on your scalp, you were out in no time. 

Elrond peered down from the pages of the novel, a soft smile covering his face as he carefully set the book down on the side table. 

He couldn’t help but to gently press kisses to your forehead as he adjusted to wrapping both arms around you and resting his cheek on your head. 

The two of you fell asleep together, this time you weren’t the only sleepy one. 

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[starg1rlie]

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !! (𝗣𝗧 𝟮)

pairing: scaramouche x gn! reader

genre: mild angst

xtra !! notes: so like, i didn't expect to write a part two, but someone brought it up and my mind went on autopilot, so here you go- kinda short?, so apologies before-hand, reader is gender-neutral, (they/them pronouns; reader is called 'miss ultra gaga and eccentric" though)

dear scaramouche,

you see, all these attacks that i've done to you is just to show how much i care about you. you think that nobody cares or really understand you, not even your own friends, but i care abotu you. so, so much.

i wrote this letter because i wanted to tell you just how much that i like you. you and me, we're practically the same! i'm sure that we were meant to be.

over the past few months that i've spent at school, i've come to realize something: i love you! i really, truly do. and i know that you've always tried to make you get the hint that you don't like me, but i just thought that i'd tell you this.

we're a lot more alike than you think. i know we might seem so different and stark in contrast with each other, but i think otherwise. you understand, don't you? there's a lot of bad things in the world, but if i think about leaving it all, well, i suppose i wouldn't want that to happen either.

i heard you talking to your mother that night. i know how forceful she sounded to you. and i understand it as well. my mom, well, you probably already know the story, don't you? my step-mom came into the picture and i was just forced to keep smiling and pretending that everything was okay and that our family wasn't literally falling to pieces.

your mom should understand why you want to make your own decisions; she can't decide everything for you, just because she gave birth to you.

i will most likely get rejected, won't i? it's pretty stupid, now that i'm thinking about it. me, writing a letter to you? how embarrassing would that be for the both of us! i don't mean to embarrass you, but it's not like you're going to read this out-loud for everyone to hear, are you?

i hope that, at the very least, you'll let me be your friend.

love,

y/n

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

scaramouche laid on his futon, purple locks fanned out on his pillow and eyes trained on that stain on the ceiling of his room. your letter, which had been ripped in half, lay on the surface of his polished wood desk, taped together rather haphazardly with some scotch tape he'd scrounged up from his drawers.

there's a lot of bad things in the world, but if i think about leaving it all, well, i suppose i wouldn't want that to happen either.

your words from your letter swam rapidly around in his mind as he sat up. how could you have known about his family issues? he'd never told you about them, and yet, you somehow still found out about them yourself.

the soft whir whir whir of his ceiling fan lulled him to sleep, his thoughts coming to a stop as well. as he slept, he dreamed of that night; that stupid night that made him so upset to think about.

it was raining that night; fat raindrops sliding down his cheeks as he walked down the stone path, the annual summer festival taking place just down the mountainside he was on. he had his phone's speaker pressed to his ear as he balanced his feet on top of each stone.

scaramouche grew tired of arguing with his mother over this topic. it was hard enough now that dad was out of the picture, but the fact that the old hag wouldn't accept that he wanted to become a writer, it pissed him off. he wished that he had a remote he could use that would be able to mute all the words that were coming out of her mouth, but there was no such thing, and here he was, stuck walking in the rain and listening to his mother nag to him about his life choices. again.

"mom, i already told you, i want to become a-"

"i know what you said, and i don't approve of it! becoming an author is very difficult work, and even if you succeeded, you don't get paid well! do you want to be living out on the streets? this is why i said you should try and apply for law school when you're older."

"i told you, i don't want to do law school! i want to write!"

"if you were to graduate from law school, you'd be able to make a lot of money from your cases and clients. think about it: which one seems more sensible to do?"

"i don't care about what's sensible, i care about what i want to do. why can't you just respect the fact that i want to be a writer, and there's nothing you can do to change that?"

there was silence on the other end, the only sound being fuzzy static.

"we'll talk about this later, when you're home. i should hope that tomorrow you won't be skipping out on cram school again." with that, she hung up on him.

dropping the hand that he used to hold his phone, scaramouche clenched his hand tight around the device, wishing he could hurl it down the mountainside (bonus points if it hit someone in the head in the process). why couldn't she understand what he wanted to do?

as scaramouche stumbled down the path, rain drops blurring his vision like tears, he thought he heard a twig snap in a clump of bushes to his left. he was too upset to even bother checking if someone was there, and even if someone was there, he could care less. he was sick of pretending to be the perfect little boy that everyone made him out to be.

by the time he'd made it up to the top of the hill, where his house stood serenly, his clothes were soaked and hair dripping wet. scaramouche kicked off his wet school shoes and ran up to his room, flipping his "do not disturb" sign over. then he promptly slammed the door shut, locking it.

back against the door, he slid down, his knees tucking themselves in as he buried his face into his arms. scaramouche could already hear his mother's footsteps coming up the stairs and towards his room.

knock knock.

"go away. i don't want to talk to you."

scaramouche could sense her hesitation. even from behind the door, he could just imagine what her face would look like: nostrils flaring like one of those fire-breathing dragons he'd heard about in history, eyebrows scrunched up, and lips turned into a hard frown. that was her usual "i'm so disappointed in you" look she wore whenever she sat him down with this topic.

"honey, i'm saying this for your own good. i know you want to be an author, and i understand that you don't want to be a lawyer, but it's imperative that we have you to support our family." now that dad is gone. she didn't say; she didn't need to. it was quite clear in the tone that she was using that that was what she meant.

"i said to go away! are you deaf or something? just leave me alone. that's the least you can grant me with all your nagging."

he peered down at the crack under his door and waited, holding his breath until her shadow finally moved away from his door. sighing under his breath, he ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers getting tangled up in the locks.

they're all so blind, so ignorant. they don't care about me. they only lean on me because i'm the man of the family now.

he felt something sharp sting his eyes. as scaramouche reached up to wipe at his eyes, he realized that he was crying. how ridiculous is this, he thought. i'm actually crying like some pathetic wimp.

scaramouche woke, hearing the steady drip drip drip of rain water dripping from the roof and the whirring of his ceiling fan. going over to his desk, he looked over your letter one more time before sighing under his breath. he couldn't get the image of your face out of his head; you looked so hurt, so unlike your normal happy and energetic persona you always had going on at school.

what were you going through? now that he thought about it, he didn't know anything about you. not your favorite shows, what color you liked, which foods you hated...he didn't know any of that. in your letter, you spoke as though you actually understood his perspective, like you actually had been going through and went through similar events.

he smoothed out a dog-eared corner of the letter before slumping down in his chair. great. now i need to apologize to them. how pathetic am i?

← first part | taglist form! ↺ | finale →

a / n !! - heres that part two, might do another part and end it there...

taglist (if you did not want to be tagged from this, so sorry, lmk and i'll remove you!) : @seungyaolee, @sunoosbestie, @chickynn, @shizunxie, @jameineliebe, @cesarsbeloved, @extrabish, @scaralvr, @malina130550

[it-happened-one-fic]

Beyond Compare - Rook

Author Notes: I have finally done it! I have written a Rook fic that isn't part of a series! I wrote this while listening "Adore" by Jasmine Thompson and I have to confess that this fic ended up kind of sappy. But then, it is a Rook fic, so there is that. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ romantic/ fluff

Word Count: 1809

You looked around at the campus grounds, listening to Rook go on a characteristically long and spiraling praise-filled tangent about the beauty of this day.

You’d often wondered what it would be like to see things the way Rook did. To be able to look at most anything in the face and see the innate beauty of it. No matter if it was something difficult or unpleasant.

Because Rook never seemed to have difficulty finding beauty in anything. Be it a flower, cloud, person, or something less pleasant, like a painful moment, the struggles of life, or a generally weighty emotion.

He’d once called tears the crystallization of powerful emotions, beautiful in their own way, despite the way they often symbolized the raw, unfettered emotions of a person who shed them. And, just like that, you hadn’t been able to look at tears the same way. 

Even if you still didn’t care for the thought of crying in front of people, tears no longer seemed like such a shameful thing. How could they when Rook could see such beauty in them?

Perhaps that was why, even despite all his numerous eccentricities that drove many people away, you couldn’t help but regard Rook with a certain degree of awe.

And it was so strange. Because when you’d first met Rook, you’d had a very similar opinion of him as Epel had held. That he was a kind man, but beyond strange. 

Certainly not someone you’d ever find yourself respecting, much less a close friend whom you were beyond fond of.

In many ways, you longed to be able to look at things the same way that Rook did. With eyes that sought only the beauty of the matter and didn’t focus on the bad while simultaneously recognizing that something wasn’t perfect. Rather, it could be both beautiful and bad all at once without ever contradicting itself.

Sort of like the poisons that the Pomefiore students so prided themselves on making. Beautiful with their brilliant colors, but in no way innately good.

You’d never been able to fully manage it, though. Not with anything, save for one man. The very same one who taught you how beautiful the world could be so long as you chose to perceive it that way.

When you’d first met him, Rook had not struck you as particularly beautiful. It was true that he was, in many ways, an attractive man. But so were his peers. 

NRC seemed to be a place perpetually filled with attractive people, and you could cite every single one of your classmates as evidence of this fact.

When Rook stood alongside people such as Vil, Leona, Epel, and Trey, he didn’t seem quite so unique in his good looks.

But as you’d gotten to know him and befriended him, you’d come to realize that Rook’s beauty did not lie in mere physical features. Rather, Rook’s true beauty came through in his personality, as odd as it could be.

It was true that many of the things Rook did still left you wondering and questioning why you’d decided to befriend him specifically. After all, you could fully understand why most beastmen avoided Rook solely on the grounds of his stalking ways.

But then, it was also true that Rook’s ability to remain true to himself and support others in their times of need was admirable. Rook, as a whole, was a fascinating man whom you couldn’t quite help but feel drawn to.

He was reliable, and, like so many others, you’d fallen prey to leaning on him in stressful times without even entirely realizing what you were doing. 

He never seemed to mind, though. In fact, he seemed to welcome and encourage it, as he seemed to be perpetually waiting with his arms wide open should you have need of him.

And you knew that you could trust that he wouldn’t judge, or that if he did, it wouldn’t be in a cruel way. Because since Rook was so innately capable of seeing beauty in the difficult, he could also accept most anything, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with it.

You stopped walking as you realized your usually chatty friend had fallen silent, and you looked towards him, worry creeping into your mind as soon as you noticed his silence.

Rook could go on and on for hours, and depending on who you asked, that might be a good thing or a bad thing.

You were fairly neutral toward his chattiness. At times, it was frustrating, since it could be very difficult to move along if you needed him for something and he’d struck up a conversation with someone. But, on the other hand, his social nature could be quite handy since his falling silent was almost always a sign of something.

He’d either found a target for stalking or noticed something else that had caught his interest. And, as you looked his way, it became obvious that whatever he’d noticed had something to do with you.

Rook gazed at you with a gentle smile that reminded you of exactly how perceptive he could be sometimes as his eyes locked onto your form and he stopped alongside you. And a small part of you wondered how long he’d been observing you.

He’d been chatting quite enthusiastically about his recent antics in the science club, so surely it hadn’t been too long?

“You appear to be in deep thought, Trickster. Is something bothering you?” His tone was just like it always was. Gentle and soft. Not prying, but calmly inquiring.

Was he worried or curious? It was impossible to tell, and that was quite likely part of Rook’s charm. The certain bit of mystery he managed to keep even despite being one of the most talkative people you knew.

In fact, he might even be able to outdo Ace in chattiness, though you prayed you would never find out if that were the case.

You lifted a shoulder, smiling slightly. There was no way that telling him that you’d just been pondering him, in all of his intricacies, wouldn’t be awkward, if not embarrassing. But your thoughtful silence was also awkward now that he’d mentioned it. Especially since he might think you’d been ignoring him.

And though you had been largely lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t been totally ignoring him. He’d apparently caused a rather glorious explosion that you were pretty sure you’d heard while helping Crewel organize potion ingredients earlier today.

“I was just wondering what it was like to see things the way you do,” You at last gave up, deciding to share a tidbit of your thoughts without sharing everything.

Rook’s eyes widened comedically at your words, and you found yourself grinning as he looked around him, almost like he was looking for an explanation, “Is it truly so amazing? The world around us is plein de beauté!”

You nodded, half amused by his surprise, “I know it is, Rook. But I’m talking about how you can find beauty in anything. No matter how impossible it may seem.”

Somehow, you felt your expression soften. Fondness melting and molding your smile as you looked at the young man, whose expression slowly shifted from surprise to a warm smile of his own.

“Ah, Je vois….” He trailed off slightly, gazing at you with a special sort of tenderness before he nodded, almost more to himself than to you. “I must confess that it is easier to find the beauty in some things than in others.”

You laughed slightly at his admission, “Well, of course, that’s-”

He continued, interrupting you gently as he tilted his head slightly, almost as if he were analyzing your every feature as he spoke, “For instance, you have always had an incomparable beauty to you, Trickster.”

Were it anyone else, you might have grown flustered. But Rook had never been one to be shy when it came to doling out praise, whether it was earned or not. He hadn’t been when you’d first met him; he wasn’t now, and you doubted he ever would be.

It was another part of his charm, you supposed. Just a part of who he was.

So you only shook your head, still amused by the young man as sarcasm crept into your voice, “Well, you’ve certainly complimented me enough times for me to believe that.”

Rook shook his head at you, as he so often did when you gently turned down his compliments or protested in some way that he praised you too heavily.

He reached out, his gloved fingers nearing your face, before he stopped himself, his smile turning more complicated by the second as his fingers curled back and away from your face like he was restraining himself.

And normally, you would have been unbothered by such gestures from Rook. He was an incredibly affectionate individual, after all. But he wasn’t one to restrain his affections, and as you stared at that complicated smile of his that was filled with so many emotions that you couldn’t even begin to sort them all out, you faltered.

You felt yourself go still as he spoke, his voice beyond soft to a degree where if you’d been even a single step further from him, you doubted you would have heard his words.

“True though that may be, your beauty struck me far more quickly than most. To the point where, if I didn’t know such a thing was impossible, I would have believed that I adored you far before I met you, Trickster.”

You swallowed at his soft words, your own eyes wide now. Because this… This was different from Rook’s usual praise. 

This felt more personal, more intimate, and more like a confession than you ever could have been prepared for.

Rook was a man who revered love. And though he may love many things, you couldn’t ever imagine him saying such words very lightly. Not when he was the epitome of a hopeless romantic, and not when he always meant every word of praise he showered on someone, even if they were ridiculous.

And when you could see that strange expression on his face that softened as he watched your reaction, you couldn’t help but feel even more convinced that there was something more to what he was saying this time than there usually was.

“It seems I truly can’t ever take my eyes off of you, Trickster. You are far too beautiful, and I can’t bear to ever miss out on that…. On you.”

To see beauty in everything was Rook’s talent. But even taking that into account. Even considering how frequently he’d proclaim something was beautiful and you’d laugh in response, you had no doubts that, at the very least in Rook’s eyes, you were beyond beautiful.

And, in your eyes, Rook was far beyond compare.

[faerieroyal]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

thinking about regulus, who always switches between giving you compliments in english and french, and will only respond with a mysterious smile when you ask him what the french words mean. thinking about regulus, who has been taught to touch everything delicately and gracefully as a noble pureblood son, but only touches you with true softness. thinking about regulus, who despises compliments because he never feels he deserves them, but who slowly learns to appreciate them when they come from you. thinking about regulus, who will try his best to never introduce you to his parents, because he cannot stand the thought of you thinking differently of him once you see the kind of people he comes from. thinking about regulus, who sees you as the light to the darkness that is him, and who will always call you that when talking to other people.

thinking about regulus, who may be haunted and damaged and who so often feels like crumbling under the weight of his name and what it demands of him, but who knows he can always rely on your love to hold him up - you are the best thing in his life, the person who he loves more than anyone else and often even more than himself, and as dark and painful as his life can be, he will always be able to find some hope as long as your hand is in his.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

marauders taglist: @thebestieyoureinlovewith, @hiya-itsamber, @fairyofthehollow, @lovings4turn, @agentlilicarter !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( requested by @renqiisnce, i really hope you like it !! )

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

[chickenparm]

tartag x reader, first kiss after a spar

i'll do you one better :^)

Childe/gn!Reader 669 Words - SFW (Touch-starved Childe. Mentions of blood, kissin', and fightin', not in that order and not mutually exclusive.)

---

Something is deeply wrong with Childe.

If you said that to anyone who tangentially knows him, who has crossed paths with him, who has looked at him, well... They'd laugh in your face for stating something so obvious.

And you've always known. From the moment you met, you knew from the get-go that Childe isn't quite right. And there are any number of traits you could list off that would support this point.

The times where his eyes would look through you, unseeing as his mind flickers off to somewhere else, just for a moment. When he'd laugh a little too loud, smile a little too wide, none of it feeling real. When his eyes would hold dark circles and he'd wave off your concerns by mentioning it was a late night at work.

You patiently avoid mentioning the manner in which he checks every alley, examines every shadow.

Maybe all of this blinds you to the fact of another glaring point of wrongness. Of when he doesn't always dodge away as quickly from your knuckles cracking into his cheek. How he takes a little too long to break from a grapple.

The moment his eyelashes flutter for a half-second when your hand squeezes around his neck.

It's how you've got him now. One knee buried in his gut to keep him from taking a full breath, the webbing of your thumb pressed to his adam's apple, fingers pressing in on the thrumming artery at the side. Childe always insisted on no weapons, only your fists against his own during your friendly spars.

You think you're starting to understand why.

Leaning a little closer, you regard the glassiness of his eyes, the blood that's staining his teeth from a nosebleed, the rabbit-quick thumpthumpthump against your fingertips that press into his pulse. Childe's arms splay from his sides, an open display of submission to your victory.

Anyone in their right mind would tell you to get off, to be an honorable winner and accept victory with a little more grace. But you're far too distracted by the way his throat bobs beneath your hand and his tongue sweeps blood from the back of his teeth.

Childe could break free - he's done it before in this way - but his eyes slip closed and he exhales the smallest amount through his nose. The breath trembles, far too akin to someone that's indulging in a dessert they've been craving. A treat; a delicacy.

Your fingers squeeze, his diaphragm stops moving beneath your knee. The thudding against your middle and ring fingers skips before resuming in double-time. Childe is far too accepting of any of this, as if he wants it.

Needs it.

The taste of his blood on your tongue is sharp; iron-and-salt. You don't care for the sting of your own split lip. It means nothing when your tongue licks the blood from his teeth and his own greets you like a lover would. Slow, languid, dragging the moment on and on as surely as he drags his tongue against your own.

Childe moans into your mouth, tipping his chin up and practically offering himself to you. Take it all, give me everything, you think he'd say, if you weren't keeping him so occupied. Surely he'd beg if you pulled away and denied him even the harshest of contact between the two of you.

He'd appreciate that, you think. If the only touch he can get from you is something brutal, then Childe must be taking what he can get. It stings as surely as your lip does that Childe is so desperate for physical contact that he'd seek it in violence.

You'll indulge him. Not because it's some kind of favor, but because if Childe is so starved that anything is better than nothing, then you will give him everything. Your touches don't have to be all hard edges and blunt force. You can be soft with him, too.

Something is deeply wrong with Childe. You can't fix it, but you'd like to try.

[avatarofcats]

✨🫑[NIGHTBRINGER!SATAN x GN!READER] 🫑✨

Word count: 1,343

Tags: slight angst, mentions of blood(not gore), cannon divergence, blossoming feelings, fated lovers(just a smidge), bad language

It was in the way Satan observed you in the first week of you arriving in the Devildom. He’d been pacing around in his room, furious about something he distantly remembered as having something to do with Lucifer, chewing his nails to the point of bleeding, when he spied you through the window pane in the courtyard below. All he could hear was his own aggressive pants as his blood pressure climbed, trying his best to control his spiral as you stooped low to do something. Eyebrows raised, he took a step closer to the window, bleeding fingers coming to rest on the sill as he spotted the cause of your actions. A fat white cat. He snorted, barely composed. That cat had avoided his affections for weeks, there was absolutely no way you were about to come out of this with a new friend. He saw your mouth move, and to his surprise, fat white tilted its head curiously. Then it stretched, slowly padding toward you, before fucking rolling onto its back, and gently pawing up as it allowed you to pet its stomach, unrestrained. Satan lost it then, stepping back in a renewed fury, storming over to his desk. Cats were the one thing he had that the others weren’t interested in, the one thing that not even Lucifer could ruin, and you’d decidedly encroached on his territory. Wildly shaking hands dove through the messy pile of notes, spitting wild curses to himself as he looked for something specific. Ah, found it. He grabbed a wrinkled note with his terrible excuse for handwriting on. He checked it once, twice. If you liked cats so much, then he would trap you as one to teach you a lesson you’d not forget.

He strode purposefully out of his room, slamming the door so hard the wood rocked on its hinges, screaming falling on ignorant ears. Finding you was an easy task, he was simmering just below a pure fury, and his tunnel vision allowed for no distractions as he closed in on your location. You were still none the wiser to his intentions, having settled into a seating position onto the cobblestone, cooing softly as you gave the cutest cat you’d ever seen some attention. You sighed, contentedly. You didn’t feel the ominous presence arrive, not when the front door opened, and then closed quietly. Fat white stirred, cool blue eyes nervously flicking to the source of the noise. You turned, confused, and the black horns set against a light blonde told you who it was as you squinted at Satans figure. He raised a crumpled note, lips open to start talking, when fat white, frightened by the sudden appearance of the wrathful demon, yowled.

He sunk his claws into your wrist, ripping wildly as he attacked you, rolling quickly onto its front to skitter away, a blur as it jumped onto a stone wall, and then up and over the gate, disappearing out of your sight. Satan watched intently as your eyebrows upturned into that of a deep sadness, hand still half flexed in a petting position, deep ruby drops starting to slide down your skin from the wounds, face turning down to stare at the space where fat white once was. He stuttered, the start of the curse still stuck in his throat. The previous insurmountable anger rocking his skull started to ebb, blanketed by the temporary confusion of the situation. You winced, flexing your fingers, and quickly wiped your wrist on your jean pants to stem the tiny cuts adorning your skin from bleeding.

Your gaze resettled on him, and he froze. “Did you need something?” You asked him, and his emerald eyes darted down to his paper once again. He paused, eyes lingering over the written curse, and stuffed it back into his pocket. “No.” He scoffed, dropping himself down onto the step by the front door to regard you curiously. You gazed at him for a second too long for his liking, but when he went to scold you for it, he found himself asking you a different question instead. “You like cats, attendant?” He asked moodily, but due his tone, it sounded like a bored statement. You stood, and looked off in the direction that fat white had presumably retreated too. Taking a moment to think, you hummed. “Yeah, I like them. They’re cute.” You turned, and looked toward the house, at him. To circumvent the way his heart tinged with shame at his original intentions, he tried to continue the conversation with you, albeit poorly. “What, even that one?” He asked incredulously, gesturing a hand rudely toward fat whites escape area. You chuckled at him then, and he felt a confused flush start to settle on the column of his neck. What the fuck were you laughing at? Him? The audacity—

“Especially him.” You said emphatically, and it sent his train of thought crashing. “Why?” He heard himself say, barrels quieter than his thoughts. You gave him a nervous-perhaps even shy smile. “Everything deserves love. It wasn’t conscious for the cat to hurt me, it was afraid. It hurting me shouldn’t change that, not especially when I can see it was reacting from fear. My life hasn’t changed because of it.” You explained yourself, and he furrowed his eyebrows in a deep confusion. “But it hurt you.” He said dumbly, and you smiled. “Yes, it did.” You confirmed. He shook his head, with a frown. “I don’t understand you.” He said bitterly, and he heard your footfall on the old stone as you approached him to go back inside. “It’s alright. Just think about it for a bit. I’ll explain it to you another time.” He swore your voice held a tone of affection for him, but that was impossible. All he’d done since you’d arrived was destroy the house, and make your job of running after him and his ‘brothers’ harder. You spoke of it expertly, as if you were older than your years. Not impossible for another demon, if Satan was honest with himself. He was vaguely surprised with the way he didn’t find your words condescending, but comforting. You moved to walk up the couple of steps he was tucked on to get to the door, and when you stepped onto the same step he dwelled on, he couldn’t help but shoot his hand up, grabbing your shin firmly. You froze at the touch, eyes widening as you looked down at him, and he could feel your pulse pound under his fingers. He gazed up at you, intentions firmly concealed by a frightfully cool gaze. “I intended to curse you. That’s why I came outside.” He stated quietly, words equipped with a hardness to them. You noticed how his grip, already impossibly tight,started to squeeze tighter. He would not allow you free until you provided him with an answer. Your gaze crawled over his features, and he felt like you were searching for something that he feared wasn’t there. “Did you?” You asked softly, trying your best to ignore the dull ache creeping up your calf. He shook his head, almost like a guilty child. The tension between you both was thickening, and Satan’s inexperience in his feelings caused him to fall silent. You paused, hand nervously fluttering at your side, before you reached down, and gently put fingers to his scalp, slowly carding through his hair. “It’s alright.” You forgave him, and somewhere in the recesses of his chest, something weak and gnarled and ugly twinged. He released your leg, jean material scraping pleasantly against his palm, and your hand removed itself from his hair. You stilled, and when he made no effort to continue your conversation, you climbed the short way to the top of the step, and went inside. He remained there on the steps for some time, eyes squeezed shut as his body tried to calm down from your touch. It was in the way that you so calmly forgave him, without malice or discontent. It was in the way that his heart thumped belatedly, the way you shone your light on his misdeeds so honestly. He was powerless.

[acim-ed-ortsac]

The Sun dances while the Moon plays: The Beginning of All Things

“Doku.”

You glance at your mother with wide eyes, looking up at her towering form as she kneels beside you. The sea waves lap at your feet before retreating, the sand rough and grainy under your feet, and the smell of sea salt stings your nose in comfort and home. The wind ruffles your hair, mussing it up to its enjoyment. Your mom smiles with the wind, brushing hair that goes to your face behind an ear. “Does the sea call you?”

Your five-year-old self nods, “It’s saying things.”

“Like what?”

You look back at the sea, toes curling when the water washes over your feet again. “Welcome home.”

Everything likes to talk to you, you learned. The birds, the trees, the animals, even the ocean. However, it’s amusing that you can already hear the Voice of All Things at such a young age. You remember the manga/anime series that was longer than you were born back then. The anime made it to…2000 episodes? Oda was insane, you had concluded while watching the Wano arc.

But now, reborn as a child on an unknown island within an unknown village and race, you were wondering if Oda was trying to cut some lore off not to make it endless.

The salt of the sea stings your nose as you listen to the Sea Kings speak of the coming of a ruler, of freedom incarnate. By now, you knew you were years back before Luffy or the East Blue gang were even born. Chopper might not even exist yet. 

Your hand splashes the water as it comes ashore, tasting salt when some lands on your mouth. The breeze rifling through your hair as the voices brush against your ears like gentle caresses. The moon was high and full amidst the dark sky, paving light in the dark world for people of the night. You look up at the moon, eyes reflecting its light like mirrors. There’s something magnetic about the moon when it’s fully lit, something soft and beautiful about it.

Whispers of giggles made you turn away from the sea. This voice was not like the rest, this felt beckoning. Magnetic like the moon. It felt like belonging. 

Your feet move without your acknowledgment, focused on the voice that calls for your name. From past the houses of your fellowmen to somewhere in the forest, the voice grows louder. Like a gentle hand guiding you to a parent.

You weren’t thinking if your parents might look for you.

Your feet meet stone, bringing you back to reality when you notice you are about to step into a temple made of old and cracked stone. Tapestries hung on the walls and torches of blue fire lit up at your presence, casting shadows on your face. The light of the moon brought a sort of shine of glory onto the temple, it’s tapestries revealed to show stitched images of the moon and a fruit. 

Come to me…

Your feet moved on its own when the voice called for you again.

You didn’t hear the frantic voices of your parents from outside. Nor the other voices that accompanied them. All you can focus on is the single fruit that is on the pedestal altar that has engravings of the phases of the moon. An irresistible pull towards the fruit until you were in arms reach of it. The fruit was crescent in shape with the comical swirls that the Hito Hito no Mi: Model Nika had.

Eat me…

‘Okay.’

Bringing the fruit to your lips, you didn’t hear your father cry out your name as you took a bite of the fruit. A rush of completeness fills your senses as the colors brighten around you, warmth and belonging warm your skin, and your heart beats powerfully in your chest.

We are one again.

- -

The ocean likes you.

You stood with your feet in the water, feeling it lap against your feet for a moment before it retreated. It was warm.

Everything seemed to like you.

Because we are loved.

You tilted your head at the voice that appeared ever since you ate that devil fruit. You wonder if it was destiny that you were convinced by the fruit to eat it since your parents and elders told you that the fruit has the name of a god. The Human-Human Fruit: Khun Model.

And you were shocked. Dumbfounded. Because you never heard of this fruit before, it was never mentioned in one piece. But it existed and you just ate it. 

When on your first day as a Devil Fruit user, you find yourself able to change yourself to your surroundings. When you were playing hide and seek with the other kids, you hid behind a tree as your hiding spot. You thought you were found when the seeker was in front of you but passed you when running towards another.

You were confused at first before noticing yourself to have turned to the tree bark, effectively camouflaging you with the trunk. When your parents called you, your father shrieked when you came out still made of wood. Your mother laughed.

It’s your right, we love you like you love us. You re unbound.

From there you experimented for a bit on your home, becoming water and submerging with the sea, changing your arm to steel, even turning your leg into fire. You had a few theories about this, and with the large significance of the moon your community relates to Khun, it was more prevalent. If Nika, the Sun god symbolized freedom then this Khun god, the Moon god, symbolized change. It’s a loose theory but you kinda love connections and parallels; because there’s freedom in change, and vice versa.

You loved this feeling, the ability to change. There’s freedom in being able to change, from the substances and materials of your body to your gender to the element you can change to.

Unfortunately, the Government seems to hate it, if the Buster Call was any hint of it.

- -

“RUN DOKU!”

Your feet ran as fast they could, explosions from the cannons blasted near you and left a ringing in your ears. Your clothes were ripped and dirty as you weren't careful about how you ran, only that you did to escape. The shouts from men behind you made you speed up. Marines at your tail.

You felt like crying.

RUN!

Your community had neutral relations with the Marines, that you knew from your parents. So when they arrived and the first time you saw them, you were immediately worried when the elder of your community had a stern face. That worry grew when the Admiral leading them glanced at you when you were playing in the water, your arm turning to the same liquid to change shape. Then there was arguing, yelling, screaming, you couldn’t decipher most of it since your parents hid you in your house while they argued with the Marine Admiral. The Elder had joined in at one point, in your defense you guessed.

They wanted the fruit, but I ate it. You realized a bit too late when they left on their ships. Now you were anxious as you could only guess what was next.

When the Marines came back, they brought a battalion.

Survive

Your feet take you to the edge of a cliff, where the waters crash against the rocks. Behind you, Marines fumble through the jungle you ran through, getting closer. You looked between the jungle and the ocean, indecisive about which one was preferable. Yet, the waters seemed to have decided for you.

Jump!

And for some reason, you were confident that the ocean would catch you as you jumped off the cliff, escaping a Marine who nearly grabbed at you.

When you resurface, you first see ash and smoke. Ash and smoke, that hailed from your island. That ash and smoke would soon be gone and all that would be left would be desolation and lifelessness. Still in shock and numb, you turn to the ships that caused it, the ship that held the Government symbol waved it proudly. As if serving the Government was something to be proud of.

They did this.

Something chipped inside of you, hot and boiling.

They destroyed your home.

Something akin to lava, akin to the storm brewing right now.

They took my FAMILY!

Boiling hot rage burned through your veins like the magma of a volcano as you screamed to the skies. The waves were turbulent and just as angry as they crashed against the rocks, the wood of the ships, and anything that was in its way. Lightning crackled and thunder boomed from the sky. And a wave that rose higher and higher towered over the battalion of ships and swallowed any screams that were last heard…

But anger took over your vision, missing the catastrophe that you had cast upon the murderers of your family, the destroyers of your home.

The Moon, our creator, has returned.

- -

Next Note: This is canon divergence, so it will differ from the Lore. Also, original devil fruit. Also, the name Doku is something I shortened term for 'Dokusha' which means reader.

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