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gutsby · 14 days

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Just Peachy

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-a. Loss of anal virginity. Possessiveness. Semi-public sex. Cumplay. Spit as lube.

Word count: 3.2k

Joel was too old to get jealous.

Long before he ever reached fifty-one, the man had known who he was and what was his—and you were it.

He got a refresher each time he split you open and watched your soft, pliant hole form an even wider ‘o’ around his shaft, moans as profuse as the moisture leaking out of you. He took comfort in that. It wasn’t often he required a reminder with such immediacy as he’d needed it tonight: thrusting you headfirst into the bathroom at the Tipsy Bison with your hands pinned clumsily behind your back. You’d laughed when he did it.

“What’s up with you?” you’d murmured, eyes alight with amusement as you watched Joel yank his belt in two.

You would’ve liked to admire the shelf of hefty, salt-and-pepper speckled belly that was left on display by the loosening of the leather, the tugging of fabric away from his heated lower parts, but the moment was so fleeting. Joel hadn’t even bothered to respond before he was smoothing your dress over your hips, drawing in, and—

“Shit!”

You seized either side of the sink and let out a yelp loud enough to stir half the bar. Joel just grunted. Approving.

“‘Atta girl,” he said, burying himself inside your cunt.

Quick fucks were never Joel Miller’s métier, it was true. He much preferred the drawn-out bouts of lovemaking that had your knees and brains in a puddle of mush by the end of it. But now there was a will behind the weight of his thrusts, a calm and calculated fervor that sent each snap of his hips moving faster against your own. You knew there had to be a reason for such an outburst, feeling his hands singe your hips in a bruising grip, so you weren’t surprised in the slightest when you heard:

“That loser ever fuck you like this?”

You made an effort to meet Joel’s gaze in the mirror, but it was hard to keep it straight when his cock was sawing back and forth between your walls at a breakneck pace.

“W-W— Who?” you stammered, teeth gritting at the last.

“Dipshit in the Sigma Chi polo,” Joel returned gruffly.

You were in awe the man had seen you two at all, much less read the Greek letters and knew what they meant. You’d spent all of five minutes chatting it up with an ex whilst deliberating which Creed song to queue up on TouchTunes. There was no way he could’ve known.

Unless, of course…

“Tommy tell ya?” you said in a breath, grimace slowly morphing to a smirk as you clenched and held the sink.

Joel groaned but didn’t slow. He didn’t like that look. Perhaps by chance—but more likely on purpose—he drove his hips all the way in until the head of his cock kissed your cervix. Your nose almost hit the mirror.

“Fucker!” you hissed.

“Right?” Joel said, pretending to commiserate. Then, fighting back a grin as your own smile began to give way to a whimper, “Dude looked like a real fucker, for sure. Just hoped he never got the chance to do it to you.”

So that’s what this was all about—stated plain as day.

Joel was surprised he’d said it himself, but with the way your wet, messy cunt was pulling him in, he had to know.

It drove him insane to think one drop of that nectar had been meant for anyone else but him. He was, of course, too old to be concerned with anything resembling jealousy, but then again, you were you. And you were his. And, mature as your Joel tried to be, the thought of that shit-brained chump ramming his dick in and out of the softest, sweetest depths of your body had him contemplating violent crimes of every flavor.

“Did he?” Joel pressed again, a bit more stern this time.

You felt a hand thread through your hair to hold your face upright in front of the mirror. You stared and saw your mouth hanging slightly ajar, saliva pooling at the sides and threatening to spill with every stab of Joel’s cock.

You were surprised you could even speak at all when that cockdrunk pout made a low, slurred, ‘Di-id he what?’

“Did he fuck you here?”

Here? Like in the bar bathroom?

As if reading your mind and seeing you start to shake your head no, Joel stilled your motions with his hand and used the other for more leverage as he continued to drill.

“No, no, darlin’. I mean— he ever fuck this pretty hole?” And, as if to punctuate his question, Joel plunged his dick so far inside you that your face did tap the mirror; nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but enough to get your attention. And smear your lipgloss on the glass.

You reeled back and moaned. Felt a pit in your tummy.

Why drag it out? By the look in his eye, he already knew. You wouldn’t be sharing any earth-shattering secret now.

“Yes. Yes, I—” You sucked in a breath when you felt that pit become a pinch and in turn, cause your toes to curl, “—he fucked me.”

“Once? Twice?”

“Three t-times.”

To your surprise, you saw the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. Like he was pleased by what he’d heard.

“Oh yeah?” Joel hummed.

You whimpered in the affirmative and tried to nod, but it was hard to do with his fingers still tangled in your hair. Your walls involuntarily clenched around his cock, and you could’ve sworn you felt an influx of warmth follow after. If ‘apologetic cumslut’ had been the goal, you weren’t quite sure you were succeeding at anything but being the latter part. Joel seemed to notice as much.

“Did he cum inside and make a mess’a her, too?” he asked, teasing now as he took his thumb and started rubbing the slick flesh that was being stretched and stuffed full of his fat cock. His pace was slowing by turns.

Normally you could not stand the thought of a man policing your sexual history, but with Joel, it felt different. Like he wasn’t really making fun at all but simply poking and prodding around for the truth so he could get to someplace else. Still thumbing, gently.

“You let him fuck this cunt and stuff her full, pretty girl?”

You had no choice but to nod. His hips had lost nearly all their speed and were now making slow, shallow thrusts.

“Yes,” you whimpered, “I— I—”

—didn’t even know you then. Didn’t like the guy at all. Didn’t enjoy having him cum inside a fraction of the—

“I know, baby,” Joel interrupted you, still rubbing the rim of your cunt with feather-light touches, “‘S’okay, I know.”

You wanted to keen at how affectionate, warm, and soft he could be—amazed by the way he’d made that switch—when the force of Joel’s thrusts halted altogether. He leaned over your body to press a kiss to the side of your head, holding your gaze in the mirror. Grey stubble licked at your temple as his cock nestled deeper inside you, and the weight of his soft and muscled stomach pressed in.

His thumb moved too.

Sliding up to the taut ring of muscles above your full, aching pussy, Joel drew a slow ‘o’ and kissed you again.

“He ever fuck you here?” he asked.

Something fluttered in your stomach, and it sure as fuck wasn’t just butterflies. You stared at the man in disbelief.

You’d just begun to shake your head no when the tip of his thumb grazed the rim of your hole and sank inward. You choked on a gasp when you felt your ass pucker, and shit did Joel Miller look smug as he’d ever been when those too-tight-for-you muscles gave in and sucked in.

“What the— ah,” you hissed, slamming your palm flat on the mirror. You couldn’t see a thing besides Joel’s elbow jutting out, tanned bicep flexing with his ministrations, but you could feel his thumb swirl gently again. Inside.

“Anybody touch you here before, honey?” Joel said.

“Nuh-uh.”

Admittedly, you were a little unnerved, on the verge of being opposed to what this man was doing, when you felt the muscles snap back—Joel retracted his thumb—and two other digits hovered along the vulnerable spot. Just by chance, you caught a glimpse of what looked like Joel about to blow a kiss or whistle, and suddenly you sensed a wet glob of warmth on the small of your back.

Then sliding, gliding down to your crack and between your two cheeks with an obscene heat you would’ve never thought possible: Joel’s spit ran down to his hand, and his index and middle fingers started rubbing it in. Circling the hole and smearing it more for good measure, Joel grinned and placed a kiss atop your shoulder blade.

“Tell me it’s mine to fuck,” he mumbled.

“Joel—” you started.

A trail of kisses led up to the nape of your neck as the fingers pushed deeper. Joel’s touch was soft both ways.

“Only mine,” he tried again, and the request was implicit.

You clenched around his fingers and his cock, feeling the former slide back and forth with near-astonishing ease. You would be lying if you said the sensation, paired with the blunt, wily lilt to his words didn’t make your legs much weaker than they were before. No, it wasn’t just the matter of it being a first for you but a first and only for you both—Joel claiming a space where no man had ever fucked you and making it his own, filling you whole.

Joel spit again, and you hated that you’d come to crave the sound, but the obscene squelch of his saliva mixing in with your arousal as he worked his fingers in and out of your ass was like music to your ears. You whimpered and found yourself nodding quickly, half-embarrassed, saying it’s yours Joel, all of this is yours to fuck and fill.

You never had been one to tell the man no. Whether it was his head between your legs at the most inopportune of times, a blowjob behind the bar, or a lightning-fast quickie in the drive thru line, you were always down. And Joel was wholly enamored with the idea he could have you anywhere he liked—now in any hole he wanted, too. You could see the fuckdrunk look in his eyes as his digits pushed in and his cock dragged out of your cunt, leaving you empty in one and getting spread for him in the other.

Joel’s lips were glistening with spit and the world’s biggest grin as he caught your eye in the mirror. Then he leaned in closer, pressed a kiss to your temple again, and kept his mouth beside your ear as he whispered:

“I’ll be gentle, honey, I promise.”

You were each a trembling mess of hormones, lust, and bottom-shelf spirits, and you definitely shouldn’t have been trying anal for the very first time in Tommy’s bar. But your pussy and ass were drenched, Joel’s fingers had pulled out and made way for just the tip of his cock to notch into that space between your cheeks, and both your minds were delirious with the idea of doing a thing so taboo and new. Full primal desire took over, and before you could think twice about what it was you were doing, Joel was squeezing your hips and pushing in.

What felt like a full fucking thrust of him was really just an inch. Your hand clawed at the towel rack on the wall and seized the bar tight as a burn shortly, swiftly took root between your legs and forced a whimper from your throat. Joel swallowed a groan and kissed your neck.

“Need it slower?” he said as soon as he saw you wince.

Stinging and stretched as you were with just the tip, the filthy urge to have him further inside was too great. Against your body’s best interest and the ache in your core, you wiggled your hips and nudged more of him in.

Joel’s kiss turned to teeth in your skin, and he cursed.

“Fuck that’s so tight,” he said, words more like a growl, “Suckin’ me in so good, baby.”

You beamed with the most sick and lascivious sense of pride and pushed your ass back again. You heard the squelch, felt the reflexive pulse of your muscles struggle to take more in, but the burn that followed this time was eclipsed by the pleasure you felt in seeing Joel’s face.

Feeling him grip you tighter, watching that expression move from bliss to guilt to ‘Sweet pea, you sure it’s OK?’ to bliss once again when you braced your weight against the sink and started moving your ass gently in time with your breaths. Then that tender brown gaze fell to the space between your body and his, and Joel just watched you fuck him, groaning each time your hole stretched.

There wasn’t a thought in his mind that wasn’t obscene. Practically monopolized by primal need, Joel Miller saw his cock glide back and forth inside you and seemed to be capable of conjuring no other thought than ‘mine.’

‘This sweet little peach is all for me, ain’t it, baby?’ Words as soft as velvet came tumbling off his lips, and he scarcely even knew he was talking, or grinning, or doing much of anything but fucking you and loving every second. The fingers of his left hand kneaded your hip while the ones on his right moved over your front. Thick, callused, and quickly soaked in your arousal, his middle finger made an easy trail to your clit and started rubbing.

You clamped your teeth tight in an effort to contain a cry. You whined into Joel’s touch, throat humming with that pathetic little sound as his groin sank deep to find the backs of your thighs and—finally—was inside you fully.

Words barely registered in your brain above the whir of your pulse in your ears, the pleasure unfurling from this strange new place, but Joel made sure you heard it when he leaned back in and murmured, ‘C’mon, baby, who’s this hole belong to, huh?’ as he tilted his hips up, body blanketing yours completely from behind. When you couldn’t contain the cry this time and your mouth fell open in a moan, he took that as his chance to slide his tongue inside and start to thrust, pinning you to the sink.

“You,” you whimpered feebly into his mouth. His tongue and the sounds of wet, sticky skin colliding over and over again all but drowned out what you were trying to say.

“What’s’at?” Joel returned, equally muffled but in far greater control of his words, it seemed, “This for him?”

“N-N-No, Joel.”

“Whose is it, then?”

You tried to answer ‘You’ again, but a shockwave of pleasure stole the air from your lungs, and you just whined in Joel’s mouth once more, head tilted limply to him as he shook your whole body with thrusts. You reached back to find a forearm, a hand, anything of his to anchor yourself, and you felt his fingers grip yours. Then he brought your hand and his up to the mirror, and he placed them flat on the glass—his big one overtop, dwarfing your own—and his hips picked up their speed.

Your lips parted just long enough to tilt your gaze ahead—Joel’s face and yours resting side-by-side in the mirror while he fucked you faster and deeper and grit his teeth.

“Use those words,” he seethed. Groaning when you clenched around him, nipping the cusp of your cheek.

If there was any doubt of what primal urges could do to a man like Joel, you were seeing it now. Feeling him stuff you full, pull back, and crash his hips into yours again and again while those sharp incisors took the tiniest, teasing, feral bites, it was like watching him come undone before he’d even cum inside you. His irises reduced to two minuscule rings around black, dilated pools; torso caging you in; breaths and groans and helpless moans commingled in a hot, plaintive medley.

Joel was too old to get jealous, and yet, he had never in his life wanted to hear the words that you were his and his alone more than he did right now, fucking you raw in a hole that had never been breached by anyone but him.

Your gaze remained on his in a sweet, near-innocent look—a staggering feat for someone getting their ass fucked bare in a dirty bar bathroom—and beneath his hand, he felt you squeeze his fingers. Your cunt fluttered too.

“It’s yours, Joel.”

The head of Joel’s cock took a nosedive to the furthest depths of you, as far as he could manage it, and he kept fucking you there, like he couldn’t bear to leave it.

“Say it again,” he said, voice hoarse. Pleading.

With what little strength you had, you laced your fingers with his on the mirror so he was holding your hand in a fist. Then you pressed your knuckles to the glass, squeezed as hard as your muscles would allow, and met his thrusts gently, keeping your eyes on him all the while.

“I’m all yours,” you returned—and when the hulking man with his grey, sweat-dampened hair and dark eyes and arms locked tight around your frame let out a whimper, you knew you’d said exactly what Joel needed to hear.

His hips canted wildly, quietly into your own, those tough and stubbled lips releasing sounds like you’d never heard before; never even thought possible for a man his size and stature with such a replete desire for dominance. This Joel was needy, panting in your ear while nudging his nose to the shell of it, ‘Baby, please keep fucking me, please, just, fuck—’ and seizing your hand, your waist, whatever flesh he could find while his cock pummeled a desperate and frenzied pace inside you. And, as much as you wished that glimpse of him would last, it was also what sent you both over the edge in the seconds right after. Your toes curled into cool checkered tile, Joel’s hand made an even tighter fist, and together, you trembled and cursed and groaned through your highs like it was the first you’d ever felt. In a way, it was.

As new to you as it was to him, that feeling pulsed and throbbed between your bodies in a shockwave of pure satiety. It left you breathless. Boneless. Slumping inward and into each other, at length, until your full weight was pressed onto that porcelain sink, and you were sure the force would tear the fixture off the wall at any second.

Fortunately, it didn’t budge.

Joel leaned even further into you and exhaled.

Evidently, the sink beneath you was the furthest thing from his mind, and all he could do was keep fucking his cum deeper while the spray of his spend was still fresh on your walls. Gently, but with intent, he drove his cock back and forth. He felt a drop or two trickle out of your wet, stretched hole and groaned, then kissed your neck.

Still in awe of what had just happened. What you’d said. Trying hard not to grin too big when he felt your walls clench around him, and you let out a low, shaky sigh.

“Feelin’ okay, baby?”

You smiled back.

“Just peachy.”

#EVERY DAY I SAY ‘MORNING’ INSTEAD OF ‘GOOD MORNING’ BECAUSE IF IT WAS A GOOD MORNING I WOULD’VE WOKEN UP WITH JOEL’S **** IN MY ***#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

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satoruoo · 5 months

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Can I make a request? 🥹 Gojo being dumb, mistaking your period cravings, sickness and getting bloated as reader being pregnant 😂

✦°. JUMPSCARE - gojo satoru

"babe, you don't look too good. everything okay?"

satoru watches you closely as you look up from your phone. you're curled in an odd position on the couch, shifting your legs every few minutes in a weak attempt to soothe the pain bubbling just below your abdomen.

if you're being honest, the discomfort was relatively merciful with you today. the seizing, sharp waves of pain that usually rendered you immobile for a few agonizing seconds were duller, so it was bearable.

you hum, the sound seeming to alleviate satoru's worries by the way his shoulders loosen.

"i'm okay, toru," you assure him, smiling up at your unnecessarily tall boyfriend. "could use some fried chicken right now though."

he blinks, jeweled cerulean eyes brightening as the worry seeps out of him entirely. he straightens, raising a singular toned arm to salute you with a grin.

"stay right there, princess!"

you're about to ask what that means, but before you can, satoru disappears from sight. you huff a short laugh and return to the weather app on your phone. leave it up to your lover, gojo 'the strongest sorcerer' satoru to teleport to KFC to bring you, his beloved girlfriend, some fried chicken.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

satoru idly bounces on the balls of his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits in the ridiculously long queue for his order.

concerned by your strange actions recently, a part of him still feels anxious. your peculiar desire for fried chicken over the last few days has led him to worry, not to mention his fifth visit to KFC in four days.

when he really thinks about it, you'd complained multiple times this week about your nausea but you'd assured him you were fine. he didn't believe that for a minute, of course, and insisted he stay within 3 meters of you in case something happened.

weird.

satoru smiles as he takes his order from the worker, thanking her politely before turning to exit.

you'd whined about being bloated too, he often found your hand cradling your stomach as your face contorted in pain momentarily. he'd been at your side immediately, kissing your face while you breathed through the discomfort.

really weird.

he briskly makes his way out of the double doors, flashing a pearly white smile at a nice-looking pregnant lady as he leaves.

huh. pregnant.

his steps slow down.

satoru turns around again, ocean eyes fixated on the male who gently helps the woman up the steps with a smile that somehow says excited to be a father.

the world seems to stop turning for a second, the eight letters that spell pregnant lighting up like glowsticks in his head. pregnant. the word bounces around in his head, ricocheting off the bone and making a home for itself in the tissue of his brain.

being bloated. the nausea. the cravings.

there was no way. well, there was a way, he can name at least twelve separate occasions in which he'd had you sprawled out under him, moaning his name as he panted into your ear like a bitch in heat during the last month.

satoru genuinely thinks he's been reborn on the spot, a new kind of euphoria surfacing in his brain.

(until some stupid rat-ass kid slams into his legs and he's kicked back into reality.)

he doesn't think he's ever teleported faster in his life.

• . ☆° ✦. °.

when he gets home, you've relocated to the bed. you're lying on your front, swinging your legs in the air as you paint your nails a sky blue.

(one time you unintentionally painted your nails the same colour as satoru's eyes and he never shut the fuck up about it. you now unconsciously paint your nails that colour. satoru swoons over it at every chance he gets.)

you hear the door slam downstairs, signaling satoru's return. he'd taken a bit longer than usual, and you turn to face him as the bedroom door flies open.

"toru, baby, what have i told you about slamming doors? this is the third time you've.." you trail off, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend who's heaving, presumably from running up the stairs.

"what the fuck is wrong with you-"

"baby!" satoru cries, throwing your precious fried chicken to the floor as he kneels next to the bed. he takes your non-painted hand and holds it close to his heart, ignoring your curses at him over the food.

"why didn't you tell me?!" he whines.

your face only twists in further confusion. what on earth was he talking about?

"huh? what're you-"

"there's no need to hide it, my love. i already know!"

you blink, propping yourself up on your elbows as you eye him suspiciously. you're aware of his tendency to be dramatic, but you'd never seen him like this before.

you cock your head to the side, "know what?"

"about the, y'know," he says, getting close to your ear and whispering, "the baby."

baby? what baby? as far as you were aware, the only baby in this household was the large man-child wailing about something or other at the side of the bed.

"did you hit your head or something?" you ask genuinely.

satoru has to resist melting into your hold when your hands come to cup his face, checking him over for some kind of injury or fever. you find evidence of neither, so you pull back, eyebrows furrowing.

"no! i'm talking about our baby."

your mouth falls open in surprise. did you get pregnant without knowing?? that was impossible, you were literally on your period. and if that was the case, the only person who could be pregnant was...

"toru...." you start seriously, face hardening, "are you pregnant?"

satoru chokes on his own saliva. him??? pregnant?????? his eyes widen and practically fall out of their sockets as you double over in laughter, clutching your stomach and pressing your face into the pillow. clearly, you find this entire situation fucking hilarious.

when your laughter finally subsides and satoru has physically put his eyes back where they belong, you speak again, "no but seriously babe, what are you talking about?"

he pouts, climbing into bed with you and pulling you on top of him. he runs his fingers gently up the skin of your arm, tracing shapes and patterns as he tries to find his words.

"aren't you pregnant?" he asks quietly. "y'know, with all the nausea and the bloating and the cravings?"

you smile into the crook of his neck, partly moved by his genuine thought process no matter how fucked up and wrong it was.

"no, toru, i'm just on my period." you answer into his skin.

"oh."

satoru feels positively stupid, feeling his cheeks burning. he was fully prepared to be a father, he'd also debated pulling out that engagement ring that he'd been putting off giving you for a while.

you bury yourself deeper into his hold, sighing happily as his strong arms pull you flush against him.

"is this your way of telling me you want kids?"

his muscles tense in response to the question. a yes then, it seemed.

"kids would be nice, i guess," satoru mumbles, trying to downplay the excitement simmering in his core. you're experienced though, so you see right through him.

you simply hum in response, opting to press a sweet kiss to the junction of his neck as an answer. he grins lazily, kissing the top of your head affectionately as your breaths even out, indicating your movement into dream land.

maybe, just maybe some part of satoru wanted kids, and maybe, just maybe, one day that'd happen.

(he gets sent on another errand when you wake up to get twice the amount of fried chicken because of his carelessness with the last batch.)

BONUS:

"i blame you for this."

"what!? this is not my fault! i mean yeah, i might have stuck my dick into you a couple times these past few weeks but still-"

"would the both of you get the fuck out?" shoko's voice interrupts as she hands you back the positive pregnancy test, "you two act like an old married couple."

"yeah well my husband over here has some weird psychic powers," you retort, flipping satoru off with a scowl, "because guess who's pregnant after he accused me of being pregnant a month ago!?"

he grins, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "i'm just so great that i have the ability to predict the future too."

"can you look into the future and see if you two ever get the fuck out?" shoko asks tiredly, sinking further into her chair.

satoru grins, kissing your cheek sweetly and laying his head on your shoulder, "nah, i can't see that happening."

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soft-deceitful-wiles · 2 years

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you know that funny feeling when nobody in your life even notices when you disappear for like two weeks out of the blue?

and the craziest part is, you KNOW that if you went totally mad and set yourself on fire out of desperation to just be SEEN by ANYONE, and they were interviewed, they most likely would act all surprised and hurt

#its a funny feeling to be invisible #on the one hand you can basically do whatever cause you know it goes nowhere really #on the other its kinda weird #anyways just a drunken thought to add to the queue #queue thats a funny word #only the first letter you pronounce so why all the others?#mine #im garbage #hahahahaa

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ryuryuryuyurboat · 3 months

Text

8 letters, 3 words!

synopsis: confessions are tricky.

genre: fluff

characters: lyney x gn! reader

warnings: modern (college) au, reader is referred to in 2nd person, navia + lynette cameo

a/n: hehe hi @ariicandy! i'm your secret admirer for @ecrin-de-litterature's kiss don't tell event :> hope you like this gift hehe happy valentine's!! likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

masterlist

“oh my, y/n, you really do have expensive taste.” navia grins at you from across the table. “did you win the lottery, or something?”

you huff. “no, i found them on my table.” the second you open the lid of the (previously) beautifully decorated tin box, the sweet fragrance of macarons wafts into your nostrils— you almost miss the way your friend’s jaw drops as she openly gapes at the treats.

“what?”

“you… er, well, do you know what those are?” navia gleefully looks between you and the macarons.

there’s a soft clink as lynette sets down her teacup. “5 bucks they have no clue,” she bets, earning a soft “tsk” from you and a smug navia crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair.

“of course i do! they’re macarons! hey–” you protest, as navia dissolves into giggles and lynette sighs, “hey– listen, listen, i may have flunked midterms but that doesn’t mean i—stop laughing!—that doesn’t mean i don’t know a sweet treat when i see one, okay!”

lynette leans forward, an odd glint in her eyes. “these aren’t your ordinary macarons, you know. there’s only one bakery that sells them like this, and people queue for hours just so they can get their hands on one of these– they only sell eleven boxes each day, mind you. it’s like you’re saying your louis vuitton is just some random bag you picked off the streets. a single box can quite literally cost you the skin of your a–”

you cut her off. “i think we know what you mean, just take some if you wanna try ‘em, okay?”

“still, who’d gift you something so expensive?” navia muses, chewing on the lemon macaron she’d nicked while you weren’t looking.

“probably the same mystery guy who gave me that plushie bouquet the other day, and then those chocolates from yesterday, and also probably that box of pâte de fruits…” you hum in thought, utterly oblivious to your friends’ astounded gazes.

“...y/n, i think you might have a secret admirer.”

“wha– hey, wait! what was with that tone when you said ‘who’d give me something that pricey’? you tryna say i’m not worth those?!?”

laughter echoes across the empty cafeteria as you lunge at navia and screech something about wanting her to return the macaron. none of you notice the pair of periwinkle eyes fixed on your figure from afar.

—

“ooooh, does someone have a secret admirer~?” navia peeks over your shoulder at the white envelope lying innocently on your desk. “y’know,” she continues, unfazed by your side-eye, “if it’s the same guy that got you those macarons, maybe you should consider getting–”

“shut up,” you grumble, feeling your ears heat up, “i don’t even know who gave me all these.”

“do people not normally sign their names somewhere?”

“just the initials.” you unfold the enclosed paper, pointing to the very bottom, where the letters LS were printed. “who’s that supposed to be? lonely spirit?”

you don’t see a certain someone’s eyes dim when you don’t bother reading the letter and shove the envelope into your bag.

—

13 february. 7 days since you started receiving letters. 7 days since you got your first plushie bouquet (how the sender knew your favourite blooms and even your favourite character was a mystery you had yet to solve). and 1 day before valentine’s.

the letter you got today was way simpler than the flowery words that filled the pages from before:

3 boxes, 8 letters. think you’ll be able to figure it out, ma chérie? that’s the key to your last gift.

(hint: the way each letter starts is important. good luck♡)

“the way each letter starts?” lynette shrugs, “no idea. probably something like the first letter of the first word.”

“lynette,” you begin, “you’re a genius!”

one problem, though. you only received 5 letters. oh, well, didn’t hurt to try, right?

“let’s see…” you lay out the letters on the table, trying hard to ignore the contents that made you blush so furiously in the safety of your bedroom. “u, l, v, o, i, e…” you mutter, before navia gives you a light shove.

“no way it’s taking you so long, isn’t it already so obvious?”

“???”

“rearrange the letters—where’s my pen— and what do you get?”

you stare mutely at the letters. “...i love u.” you read, before you’re hit with a realisation.

“wait– boxes are containers, and then words are like containers for letters– and then, and then… and then i love you makes up eight letters in three letters! i’m a genius!”

“if you’re such a genius, you should’ve noticed a certain someone staring at you.” lynette nods at a point behind you, “go get your man, y/n. i don’t wanna hear complaints about being single for valentine’s.”

you turn– and there stood lyney snezhevich, in all his glory, a bouquet in his hand. he offers you an apprehensive smile as he extends his arms for you to accept the flowers—your final gift— and averts his eyes.

“seems you’ve managed to crack the code, ma chérie. now, then, if you hadn’t known from the letters… will you be my valentine?”

taglist: @yinyinggie @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @thexianzhoujade @dailypenpen (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

#astronetwrk #— kiss (don’t tell) !#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #lyney x reader #lyney fluff #lyney #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin #genshin impact #༄the vessel’s voyages #scrolls of yore✒️ᝰ #resplendent ports⋆⑅˚₊ ༘⋆#january ebg'24 ⋆⑅˚₊ ༘⋆

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ddejavvu · 8 months

Note

Rooster w a reader who helps penny at the bar on a really busy night and is a big hit with all the guys, much to Roosters dismay. One time after she is heading back from delivering drinks, a guy from a rowdy table that has been bothering her tries to shoot his shot and grabs her ass but she is having none of it and turns around to greet him with a HARD backhand to the face. Bonus points if the reader is typically super bubbly and flirty with everyone, so this behavior is unusual, and everyone just goes wild😭

Roo would definitely love to see her stick up for herself and the boys def be there to kick the guy out.

There's not even a full second between when the man's hand connects with your ass, and when your own connects with his face. There's two sharp cracks that silence all noise in the bar, and though the jukebox is still warbling, silence is thick and suffocating.

You seethe down at the man who'd recoiled from your touch, now clutching his face with his elbow leaned against the table he's sitting beside.

There's no indication of what had prompted you to slap him until you speak, teeth gritted as you somehow keep balance over your tray of drinks.

"If you ever try to grab my ass again, you won't have hands to try it a third time. Do you understand me?"

The man doesn't bother responding, but you take an empty beer bottle that he'd downed only minutes prior, flipping it upside down in your hold so that the mouth faces you, and the neck is securely in your grip.

"I am not above smashing this into your dick. Answer me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" The man chokes out, legs squeezed tightly together and a hand over his crotch, "Yes, I understand."

You don't bother gracing him with any further attention, turning sharply away and chucking the empty bottle into a bin behind the counter. Its clatter is everyone's queue to get back to business as usual, and Bradley's already walking towards you when you turn to serve his table.

"Baby," He starts, but you plow past him, taking his hand in yours to drag him along with you.

"Not here," You spit through gritted teeth, "Meet me in the back room."

He follows your instructions to the letter when you drop his hand, quite possibly intimidated by your demeanor even though you'd have no urge to punish him with it. You set the tray down on the table that his squadron has gathered around, passing out drinks wordlessly as they stare.

"Good hit," Phoenix breaks the silence, and though irritation is still stewing just beneath the surface of your skin, you can't be upset with her.

You let your lips twist into a miniscule smirk, lifting barely on one side, "Thanks."

"Penny'll want him thrown overboard," Fanboy muses, "Can I do the honors?"

"I'll join," Jake drawls, and Bob volunteers as third.

"Alright," Your tight smirk fades into a weak smile, eyes downcast as bashfulness takes over, "Thanks, guys."

"Anytime." Payback claps you on the shoulder, thanking you for his drink, "Just stay away from my junk with that bottle, okay?"

"Don't grab my ass," You warn him through a chuckle, "I gotta go."

You take your leave with less anger boiling your insides, but you're still rightfully peeved when you meet Bradley in the supply closet.

"Baby," He tries again, and this time you let him take you by the hips, his worried eyes boring into yours, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You insist, because the man's hand hadn't hurt as much as it had sickened you, "Just feel gross."

"I'm sorry," He hums, wrapping you in his arms and pointedly avoiding contact with your behind, in case you're more sensitive than you realize, "I'll throw him overboard if you want baby, just say the word."

"Fanboy, Hangman, and Bob are already on that," You admit, speaking into the black fabric adorning his shoulder, "I want you here."

"I'm here," He assures you with no further hesitation, letting you melt into his arms as he presses a kiss to your hairline, "I'm here, honey, you're safe with me."

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sempersirens · 7 months

Text

my love, mine all mine

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. no outbreak!au. hurt/comfort. infertility. hospitals. alcohol.

author's note: hello my lovelies. i am so happy to be back posting - i missed you all a great deal. please forgive that this is a bit of a self-indulgent personal one, and i just want to take the time to say that womanhood is not intrinsically linked to the ability to have a child. we are so much more than that.

You'd always hated hospitals. Hated waiting. Hated the sterility lingering in the air. Everything was so unsettlingly white. The fluorescent lighting should expose at least a speck of dust somewhere, on some forgotten surface. But somehow, it never did.

The names called forth never seemed to be yours. Joel would've been in agony if he were here. Confined to the little plastic chair, time rolling on, on, on with no end in sight. You were almost thankful he had to be on-site today, leaving you to fend off the passing of time alone.

But you'd grown tired of being strong.

Strong for yourself, strong for you both. You craved the warmth of his rough palm, desperate to intertwine your fingers in his and replace the fluorescence with the nothingness of your eyelids.

You wanted to take. Take, take, take. Take every ounce of strength he could give you. But he wasn't here, and that had to be okay because Joel was hurting too.

You'd been lucky enough to have never known grief. Never felt its empty sting in the middle of the day, in the queue for lunch or on the drive home from work. But can you grieve something your fingers never touched? Something that had only ever been a far-off thought, that had maybe never even existed inside of you.

Was it a reflection on you?

On your capability as a mother, a woman?

Had nature deemed you unworthy since birth?

Were the worms and the flies laughing at you each time you'd uttered the words when I have children one day?

After the seemingly psychological torture of waiting, the appointment was over in minutes. It's not the news we were hoping for. The doctor had said. If you and your partner need support going forward...

The brochures she had slid across the table fell to your feet as you mindlessly drove yourself home, relying solely on muscle memory to bring you to the embrace of your front door.

There were no tears left. Everything inside of you was empty; barren. You threw your keys into the dish and softly closed the door behind you. The stillness of the house was suffocating.

Your shoulders dropped and muscles relaxed at the sight of the photograph of you, Sarah, and Ellie hanging on the wall opposite the front door. Sarah had lovingly adorned the picture with the words Joel's girls glued on in cut-out letters from your old Vogue magazines.

You loved Sarah and Ellie as your own; it would've killed you should Joel think otherwise. They were as much your baby girls as they were his, despite having not been babies for the better part of five years.

But you saw the depravity in Joel's eyes each time he edged further inside of you. The need, the want, for a creation of your own. And there was something almost feral inside of you, too. A part of you that only Joel had managed to tease out and bring into the ugly light of day. You wanted to watch yourself swell and grow with the proof of his love. You craved the shrill of a new beginning illuminated under fluorescent lights that you would gratefully embrace if it meant you could fall in love at first sight with a life you had created with Joel.

Even though Joel could hardly bend down to tie his shoes without hissing through his teeth these days, you knew none of that would matter if it was a product of your adoration for one another he was one day scooping up in his arms.

Although the two of you had been trying your hand at a sober October, you haphazardly fished around the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew, plunging it into a cheap bottle of red.

As you took your first sip, the sound of a key turning in the door made your stomach flip.

"Sweetheart?"

"In here." You called, tapping your nails on the body of the glass.

He filled the doorframe effortlessly. After all this time, he still managed to give you butterflies, leaving you squirming against the counter like you hadn't been victim of those brown eyes for almost a decade.

"Take it we're not celebrating?" He said, nodding toward the glass in your hand.

"Define celebrating. At least I won't need a fucking IUD anymore." You tipped your glass in the air and took a gulp. "An inhospitable environment."

"What's that?" His eyebrows furrowed together as he made his way closer to you.

"That's what the leaflet the doctor gave me says. I've got all the right pieces, my body just won't fucking do the one thing it's meant to do."

"Don't say that, sweetheart. You know it ain't like that..."

"Well, what is it like, Joel? What's left of me to love? How can you look at me and be satisfied that I'm the one you love? Everything about me is so fucking difficult. I want to be perfect for you. I want to give you everything you deserve, and it kills me that I can't. Because you've given me more than I deserve."

And then all at once, the tears came. He caught you in his arms before you buckled under the weight of your pain, holding you upright as you soaked his work t-shirt with your sobs. He smelt of asphalt and fresh October air.

"That what you really think?" He asked, murmuring into your hair while his fingers traced circles on your back. "Think you're difficult to love? Loving you has been the easiest damn decision I ever made."

"Then why weren't you there today? I needed you."

Smoothing down your hair, he pulled himself back so that you were facing one another. His eyes were red and glassy.

"I'm a coward, sweetheart." You scrunched your face in response, watching as a sad smile spread across his face. "I ain't as strong as you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You couldn't help the bite in your tone.

"Was scared to hear the truth. Would've felt so final comin' from the doctor."

Blood rushed to your head.

"So what, because my womb's the issue you let me go alone? Is this my penance or something?" You scoffed, pushing him away from you.

Joel called your name as you stormed up the stairs, wiping away your tears with your sleeve.

"You have children, Joel. There will be biological remnants of you living on in this world after you're worm food. I love those girls, and in every possible way, they are mine as much as they are yours. But I'm never going to have what you do; the privilege of looking into someone's eyes and seeing everyone who came before me. So don't give me that self-pitying bullshit disguised as admiration for my bravery." You sniffed, wanting to sound stronger but crumbling with each word.

Turning to lock yourself in the bathroom, his large hand wrapped around your arm. An old man may he be, Joel always managed to chase you down in moments you wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Any attempt to shrug him off was pointless, and the warmth of his skin that you had craved all day radiating through your sleeve could've melted you there and then. You knew you were both scared and showing it in stupid, different ways, but you were adamant on holding your own for just a while longer.

"We're gonna get through this, baby. I ain't got the answers right now, and you know I sure as hell don't know what to say at the best of times. All I know is that I love you, and I'm so sorry for letting my fear get the better of me."

Your head found refuge in the crook of his shoulder once more, and you let the warmth of his body engulf you.

Truly, there was nothing he could say. You weren't even sure what you needed him to say.

That night, you could feel the fear dancing with grief between your bodies as you held one another in the dark. Joel may have been a father before, but neither of you had experienced this. And you knew it would be okay.

As long as you could feel his arm draped across your chest in the darkness of the night, you knew it would be okay.

#my fic #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fanfiction #dee writes #tlou hbo #tlou #the last of us hbo #breakfastatjoels

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cinnamongorll · 5 months

Text

a fragile line - chapter 1

read on ao3! (111k words) | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Story summary: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse.

Word count: 2k

Chapter 1: ‘Marked for Death’

Death coated the back of Juliet’s throat.

This was not unusual. The aroma of rot and decomposition was commonplace in the body disposal department of the Boston QZ. However, if Juliet could actually taste it simmering on her tongue, it meant one thing: she needed a new mask.

The threadbare fabric tied tight around her nose and mouth was singed earlier in the day when her shift partner tossed a body, with more force than necessary, into the large fire pit in the middle of the square. A few wayward sparks had settled on her mask, gradually burning through the cheap material.

Juliet often wondered how the sickly sweet smell of decay could still remain when fire and smoke cleansed the air.

It didn’t surprise her, though: death always lingered.

It was hour eight of her usual Tuesday shift. One more hour and Juliet could collect her ration cards, find her way to the nearest fabric stall then drag herself back to her tiny apartment. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her today, settling in her bones and restricting her movements. Her shift followed a pattern: walk to the loading truck, pick up a body, place it in the fire and try not to look as the skin blackened and blistered.

The same task, the same people, every week, every month and every year of her residence in the Boston QZ. Every day was a repeat of the previous but she was safe and she was hidden, which was all she could hope for.

More bodies, more fire and her shift was over. Another day completed. Juliet used the stained fabric of her t-shirt to wipe the ash from her hands and forehead as she joined the ration queue. She was in line behind Joel Miller, a man who had worked at body disposal as long as she had, probably longer actually.

Tall, with broad shoulders and dark brown hair speckled with grey and ash, Joel Miller towered above her with more than his height. He was impressive, intimidating. Juliet watched as he stretched his neck to the side and wiped the sweat beading on his skin, his shoulders were tight, his stance solid.

Joel had a presence difficult to ignore, being around him always felt like the air had a little less oxygen, as though he took up a bit more space than everyone else. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, just a few grunts and hard instructions grumbled under his breath to whoever was partnered with him on shift.

Juliet found herself drawn to Joel, despite their lack of interactions. Her eyes would follow his movements as they worked, observing his cool indifference as he performed their grim duty. She would notice him around the QZ, too. He was a ghostly presence, often found haunting street corners and disappearing in a blink of an eye.

Juliet knew little about Joel, only that he sold drugs to her weird neighbour who had drunkenly offered her some while attempting to break into her apartment the other night. She added another lock to her door after that.

“Next!” barked the ration officer, shaking Juliet from her thoughts.

She took a step forward and watched as Joel disappeared around the corner, shuffling ration cards in his smoke covered hands. Juliet wondered if he, too, had grown entirely numb to their gruesome occupation.

Juliet wondered if something worse, something more ghastly, haunted his daily life.

After collecting her ration cards and buying a new mask, Juliet made her way home to her crumbling one bedroom apartment. Home was perhaps a strong word, what with its peeling twenty-year wallpaper, mould stained ceilings and less than ideal neighbours. But it was her’s.

Turning the corner onto her street, Juliet’s eyes landed on a hunched form on the front step of her building. Juliet let out a sigh, quickened her steps and forced a smile onto her face. Margaret was waiting for her.

Margaret was her eighty-five year old neighbour who lived on the bottom floor of their building. She enjoyed long conversations, hard liquor, and gossiping about the inner workings of her neighbour's lives.

“Juliet!” Margaret gasped out.

“Hi, Margaret,” Juliet called as she approached, her plastered smile beginning to falter as Margaret struggled to stand.

Juliet moved to hold the woman’s frail arms, she was frantic, her hands grasping at Juliet’s shoulders, desperate to gain her full attention.

“No, you must listen,” Margaret began, before doubling over, releasing a series of strangled coughs and gasps.

“Someone,” she coughed. “Someone was here…” croaked Margaret while pointing her shaking hand behind her, towards the door.

“What? Who?” Juliet asked, she had never seen Margaret so panicked before.

“Oh it was awful,” Margaret began, once again clutching Juliet’s arms, her arthritic fingers formed in a vice-like grip.

“I was knitting at my dining table, working on my sweater… I must show you Juliet, it’s looking so wonderful, I used…”

“Stay focused,” Juliet interrupted, her voice soft and pleading. “What happened?”

“Yes! So, then I heard what sounded like someone marching through the hallway,” Margaret continued, her words quick and tense.

“I knew it wasn’t yourself or Kenny because you were both working. So I got up and looked out my peep-hole.” Margaret’s voice had grown quieter, now almost a whisper.

“And I watched as two men with dark jackets walked past my door and headed upstairs”

“Next thing I know, I hear this horrendous crash. Now, I know it must have been bad because I could hear it! And you know how terrible my hearing is.”

Shock covered Juliet’s features, their apartment building had always been quiet, always lucky to avoid the crime raging the Boston QZ.

“Did you see them leave?” Juliet asked, her voice urgent.

“Yes, thank god,” Margaret answered. “But dear… I think it was your apartment they went into, and by the sound of it, they surely broke down the door.”

Fuck, Juliet thought. Her heart now feverishly pumping the familiar blaze of fear throughout her body. “Stay here,” Juliet ordered, her voice hard as she moved to release her arms from the old woman’s grip. “I’ll go check it out.”

“Please be careful,” Margaret urged, clasping her hands together in a silent prayer.

Stepping into the building, Juliet paused, listening. So familiar with the hum of her neighbours’ usual routines, Juliet could recognise any foreign noise. But no sound was unusual, nothing was amiss… that she could hear anyway.

Feeling somewhat certain no strangers were lurking in the building, ready to emerge from a dark corner and grab her, Juliet decided to keep moving.

Climbing the steps to the first floor, her body was on high alert; any weariness from her gruelling shift was gone, adrenaline now coated her muscles. Only a sharp, steady focus remained.

Reaching her apartment, Juliet stopped, her feet frozen. The door lay open with three of her four locks fractured, surrounded by splintered wood and chipped paint. The fourth lock lay on the floor by her feet, where it must have fallen after being brutally pried from the door. Juliet felt a sinking feeling deep in her gut. Each lock had become an emblem of her security in the Boston QZ. Now they were shattered. A stark reminder that her safety was never guaranteed.

Juliet reached out, her fingers grazing the fractured wood as she gingerly pushed the door all the way open, moving into her apartment. A deep breath and a long exhale later, Juliet stood in her dining area, eyes now locked on a piece of folded paper on her kitchen table.

She moved closer, Juliet’s body had lost its stamina, her limbs weighed her down. Each step towards the yellowed piece of paper was like wading through dark, chilled water.

When she was close enough to recognise the handwriting, everything stilled. The air, the room, her beating heart… all slowing around her. A chorus of no, no, no, no, no, surged through her mind, spiralling inward, forming a shield around the memories threatening to resurface at the sight of that familiar scrawl.

One hand gripped the edge of the table, tangled in the tablecloth, while the other tentatively lifted the paper. ‘My sweet Juliet’ it read in writing she knew so intimately it could have been etched on her heart. Carved with a sharp, brutal knife.

A high pitched ringing enveloped her mind, numbing all sound apart from the echo of her shallow breaths. Juliet’s ash caked fingernails traced the edge of the worn paper, she pulled it apart to reveal a message:

��Juliet,

How does it feel living so far from home? Surrounded by strangers.

I admit I was shocked that night you left, I wondered what more you could desire, out in the wasteland of our world, that I had not provided you with? I imagine you have come to the conclusion, by now, that there is nothing else worth living for than the love of our lord. You see, I have eyes and ears in places you could never imagine. My men know the power of our lord and live with his blessing every day. I sent these men to find you, Juliet. I sent them to bring you this message.

I have your friend Ethan in my care now, he has taken your place until you return to me. I have every hope that will be soon my dear, Juliet. He, too, screams when the judgement of our lord is upon him.

Travel safely; the lord does not bless the sinners of this earth,

Your father.’

Ethan… No.

Three years, three blissful years only focused on her own survival, liberated from the torture of her childhood. She left Ethan behind, she thought he would be safe. She was wrong, so very wrong.

Why, though, had her father waited so long to find her? To threaten her with Ethan’s safety? His life? She must have hidden well, burrowed herself so deep in the mundane of everyday QZ life, that even her father’s men, dotted about the country, had not found her for three years.

Yet now her nameless existence had come to an end, slaughtered in a matter of seconds. Juliet’s hand clenched, crushing the paper within her palm.

She had to go back. For Ethan, she would go back.

The thought alone made her choke on her breath, gasping for air in the silent room.

Experience had taught her not to take her father’s threats lightly.

Her journey to Boston was monstrous. Juliet witnessed sights which forever scarred the insides of her eyelids, appearing before her on dark and sleepless nights. Could she travel that distance again? Alone? Knowing what’s out there? No… she would die and so would Ethan.

Juliet stumbled to her moth-eaten couch and sank into the decaying cushions. She reached her shaking hands to her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, pushing harder until only a dark nothingness remained. Her life in the Boston QZ was over…for Ethan she would return to the man who haunted her every step, his existence always reminding her she would never be fully free.

Reluctance acceptance washed over her. For Ethan she would return to her prison, almost assuredly never to escape again.

Removing her hands from her eyes, Juliet released a trembling sigh. Accepting her powerlessness brought a distance from her emotions. The thought of Ethan and the immediacy of the situation had started to drown out her terror and regret, leaving behind a cold numbness.

In her emotionless stupor, Juliet started to plan her way out of the QZ.

A loose floorboard hid a map and a variety of makeshift weapons, including a switchblade which Juliet liked to keep sharp. Both were now on the coffee-table before her, Juliet hunched over the map tracing her journey with the tip of her blade.

There was one problem she couldn’t solve: this was not a journey she could make alone. Juliet survived her journey to Boston on sheer luck and willpower. She would risk her own life, but not Ethan’s. She had to get there alive.

Her blade stilled, its tip pierced through the rough paper into the hardwood table. Juliet’s racing thoughts had settled on the one person she knew had both spent a significant amount of time outside of the QZ and had a route out…

Joel Miller.

Fuck.

#joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #Joel miller x female oc #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fic #joel miller hbo #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #Joel #ao3 fanfic #pedro pascal #Spotify

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stellar-skyy · 27 days

Note

hihi! an iced english breakfast tea with father figure blade?

“iced english breakfast tea here, for... ah, who was it? Oh, of course! Blade!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: While on a trip, you receive a letter from a certain Stellaron Hunter. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. PLATONIC blade & gn!reader, brief silver wolf & reader, kafka & reader. father figure!blade. found family fluff. 0.5k words. iii. A/N: hi anon! this request was actually much further in the queue, but i finished it quickly so i thought i might as well post it now.

The letter is penned on bright white paper, covered in small creases that have been smoothed out. The writing on it is small, with some parts crossed out and rewritten, filling the entire page. In the corner is a small series of doodles in purple ink, crude drawings of the three Stellaron Hunters and you. The envelope is beside it with the wax seal broken, smelling faintly of spider lilies.

Inside, it reads:

[Name],

I hope this letter reaches you well, if it reaches you in the first place. I must admit I am skeptical of the effectiveness of the intergalactic postal system, but it isn’t as if there is another way to contact you, aside from tossing the letter into outer space and hoping it finds its way to the planet you are currently on.

I think this is the longest it’s been without seeing you since you were young. It is much too quiet without you around; Silver Wolf has attempted to fill the silence, but I hardly understand what she is talking about half of the time and I do not care to ask. When you return, you will have to inform me what ‘dps’ and ‘maxed out’ means, because I know asking her now will only give me a long-winded spiel about those video games she is obsessed with.

Despite you being gone several weeks now, it’s still been difficult to adjust to having one fewer member of the group. I have been turning the corner, expecting you to be there waiting for me, but I am constantly finding myself alone. Kafka tells me it’s the mother hen instincts, but she doesn’t know what she is talking about.

Silver Wolf has been asking about you non-stop, telling me she wants her Player Two back. She made me play with her for a bit, but according to her, I’m so terrible at the games that it isn’t even fun to beat me. I’m not sure what she means, she beats you all the time anyway, but when I told her that she just rolled her eyes.

Kafka misses you too, though she’s at least got enough emotional maturity to admit that out loud instead of sulking. When she found out I was writing this letter, she made me promise to tell you she can’t wait to see you again, and you’d better be taking care of yourself. I think she feels the same as I do, even as she teases me for it. Things just aren’t the same with one less person.

I know you’re wondering about me, but I’ll keep it short—I’m fine. My condition is no better than you last saw me, but it is no worse either. You don’t have to worry, and I mean that with honesty.

I trust you are using this well-deserved break to its fullest, taking in the sights and not causing any excess trouble. Elio doesn’t allow vacations very often—it’s a wonder he approved this one, with all the missions he’s sent us on lately—so make sure you take advantage of it. If you are in a tough situation, you only need to remember what Kafka and I have taught you: hit them fast and hard, and don’t leave any witnesses.

Be safe. I’ll see you soon.

Blade

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ]#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#—stellaronhvnters.#platonic x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #platonic honkai star rail x reader #platonic hsr x reader #platonic honkai star rail #blade x reader #platonic blade x reader

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mechformers · 1 year

Text

Ma Miles - Ch. 6

5.2k words

Bold letters are spoken in English by the Reader to Quaritch.

It's been my birthday today, so have this little extra chapter! :D

I'm having so much fun with this story and your kind comments are watering my crops and feeding me so well. Thank you all so much!

(I see that people doing taglists and thought that it might be fun, so if you want to be tagged with the updates, please leave your @ myusername in the comments)

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 7

Waking up to the demon’s annoying voice, you growl furiously as he steps closer to the cot on the floor which substitutes as your nest. You’re crouched protectively over Spider’s still sleeping form, your anger rising at the rude skxawng before you. Looking into the demon’s eyes, however, proved more difficult than it should have been. The sharp yellow depths had plagued you the entire night, waking you with both fear and horror.

“He always sleep this soundly?” The demon asks, lowering himself to a crouch a few steps away from your cot.

“No,” You sneer, insulted that he would even ask.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed today, sweetcheeks?” He grins, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he finds humor in whatever it was he said.

“What?” You bark back, which only makes the demon grin wider.

“Doesn’t matter,” He waves his long hand in the air between you, “Ready for a new day of teaching?”

“It is day already?” You can’t help but ask, turning your head around the always-lit, cold room.

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know, now would you, sweetcheeks…” He seems to fall deep into thoughts at that, his brows furrowing slightly before he nods gently to himself and gets up to his feet. “Breakfast is in ten, be ready,”

And with that, the demon is out of the see-through metal doors once more. The second swishing of the door wakes Spider, his messy head lifting in confusion as he looks in the direction of the door. Your son had always been slow to wake up and the fact that he still was, brought you much joy. Looking down at him, you can’t help but brush the hair back from his face. Brown, warm eyes meet yours as he smiles up at you.

“You’re still here,” He mumbles before yawning and stretching.

“I will always be here, my life,” You hum back at him, watching as his gentle smile morphs into a smirk.

“What do you think they’ll have us do today?”

“Teaching them ‘the Na’vi way’, what else?” You say, trying your best to sound like the demon.

Spider snorts before falling into a fit of laughter. Looking down at your son, you revel in just how grown he had become. Glittering brown eyes look up at you, his face bathed in joy as he gently pulls your queue.

“That was so incredibly bad, mom,” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest, “He sounds more like he’s constantly constipated and angry,”

“You’re right,” You can’t help but chuckle at his description of the demon, thinking that it’s spot on.

“And what are we laughing at?” The demon asks as he walks through the see-through metal doors, carrying a plate of some kind.

Immediately, the good mood turns sour as he walks further into the room, the see-through metal door swishing closed behind him. Dropping the plate on the table, you look at it with distaste. There are two light brown squares with something a little darker brown on top of it. It’s clumpy and smells strange. On top of that, something red and sweet-smelling was spread. Looking up, you watch as the demon pushes sticks through two squares in his hand before placing them on the table too.

“Eat up,” He grounds, taking a step back before placing his long hands on his narrow hips.

“What is that?” You can’t help yourself from asking, wrinkling your nose at the strong smell.

“Peanut butter n’ jelly on toast and milk,” He deadpans, pointing one of his hands at the food as if it should have been obvious what it was.

In your peripheral, you can see Spider curiously approaching the table, nose in the air as he steps closer. Hissing, you wrap your hand around his upper arm, pulling him back. You will not let this demon poison your son with this food-like substance.

“This is not food,” You sneer at the demon, watching as he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If you’re not gonna eat, then get moving,” He barks back, slapping his hand over the box that opens the see-through metal door.

Outside, Lyle and Mansk stand waiting, their expressions unreadable behind their eye shiels. Following the demon, you step out of your metal room once more, closely followed by the other two. Walking through the corridors you take note of each and every turn, trying your best to remember them. One day, you will have the chance to escape this place, be it in here or out in the forest. You would need the knowledge.

The helicopter ride this time is silent, the tension thick in the air between you. You’re taken to the same place as yesterday, but this time, instead of using the ropes, the demon jumps from the hovering helicopter, landing ungracefully and too hard on the ground. The grunt can be heard over the sound of the helicopter wings. Rolling your eyes, you look back at the others.

“Take the rope down, I will teach you later,” You watch as they lower their ropes like last time, getting ready to lower themselves with their feet once more.

Motioning for Spider to get on your back, you wait until he’s settled safely before letting yourself drop down to the ground where the demon still mutters what had to be curses. His eyes are narrowed, his ears slicked back as he looks up at you, his anger so obvious it’s almost dripping off of him.

“You should not jump, when you do not know how to,” Walking past the demon, you can hear him grumbling something behind you as the unit snickers.

Spider crawls down from your back as you continue to walk into the forest, looking for Puffball, Spartan, or Yovo trees for some fruit. On your way, you passed a few Dapophet trees, but for now, you would focus on the fruit trees and their roots. Looking back at the unit, you notice how all of them have dropped their boots, some of them even shortening their leg clothing as Z-Dog had. Smiling to yourself you see Spider running in front, helping you find what you needed.

“How much further, Miss?” Brown pipes up from the back.

“Until we find what we looking for,” You smile back at him, noting how he breathes heavily.

Walking over to him, you put your hand on his forehead, noting how he’s burning up. You’re not even surprised if what the demon served you for breakfast is what they eat on a daily basis. Taking his wrist, you pull him with you, nodding for Spider to continue his search. Luckily you don’t have to look for much longer.

“Here, eat this and sit down,” You pick a few puffball leaves, giving them to him before walking over to the Yovo tree, taking a few fruits from it.

“It tastes… I don’t know the word. It’s good for you,” You explain to him just as he’s about to eat a leaf. “This tastes sweet,”

“What are you giving him?” The demon steps up and asks, his voice gruff as his brows furrow in worry.

“Food,” You deadpan, crossing your arms as you pin him with a stare.

“He ate this morning,” He counters as if you were playing a game of who-knew-what.

“Your food is no good, Na’vi needs more,” At that, the demon doesn’t have anything to say. Instead, he gets a worried look on his face. It softens your anger at him.

Gathering the unit, you keep an eye on Brown as he eats while you explain to them how a Na’vi at any stage in life needs to eat and how to recognize the safe and easy fruits, leaves, and roots. Lyle is surprisingly enthusiastic about the different foods and how they’re prepared, asking questions and volunteering to try things first. You’ve noticed that the others aren’t as interested until they get to try whatever it is you’re doing, only then do they enthusiastically tackle the task as if it were a competition between them. During all of this, the demon keeps to the back, silently observing, his curiosity maybe the biggest of them all.

Days go by in much the same way. They come to get your son and you in the morning before leaving straight away, eating breakfast in the forest instead of the ridiculous things they ate before. After Brown’s fever, they got a clear picture that their new bodies needed different kinds of food from the ones they were used to eating.

Their jumping was improving, some of them even dared to take the first jump from the helicopter, while others hesitated a little. The demon still didn’t dare to jump after his failed first attempt. You still remember how stiff he had been the day after his first jump, playing it off as sleeping wrong in his nest, but you knew. You could see it in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, and in how he learned how to jump the right way.

Today, you started teaching them how to hunt for fish. You were no hunter in your tribe, no gatherer or warrior, but you could still fend for yourself when you needed to. The unit loved hunting, all of them taking to it as if they had done nothing else in their lives, the demon and Mansk maybe more so than the others. Their prayers were a bit difficult, but in the end, they mostly got it.

For the first time, you had decided to let them experience the eclipse and all that the darkness brought to Pandora. In preparation, you had searched for a spot that didn’t cross paths with any predator's hunting routes, praying to Eywa that you would not accidentally cross paths with one.

“Stay close and do not wander,” You remind them again just before the eclipse is complete, bathing Pandora in total darkness for only a few minutes before Eywa’s children awaken.

The bioluminescence takes their breaths away, the entire unit turning in circles as they watch the forest come to life before them in the darkness. The demon, standing beside Spider and you, wears an expression of complete awe, his eyes wide, ears twitching as his tail swishes behind him. The curiosity all but rolls off of him as he reaches a hand out to touch a flower. It glows brighter, illuminating his long fingers before the ground beneath his feet lights up, glowing brightly.

In awe, you watch as atokirina's falls from the skies, slowly making their way down to the demon. The ground he stands on still glows as the first one lands on him, the demon raising his hand as if to swat it away before looking at you. The way you stare at him however, halts his movement, and only a moment later, he lowers his hands, letting it hang by his side as more atokirina’s land on him. By the time they’ve stopped falling, they’re covering him from top to toe, breathing deeply with him as the demon looks at you for guidance.

“What are they?” He rumbles low as if to not disturb them.

“They are atokirina, woodsprites,” You start, swallowing audibly, “They are sacred - pure spirits,”

“What are they doing on me then?” The demon tries to be funny, but surprisingly, you can hear the uncertainty behind his voice.

“Eywa has spoken,” You whisper, more so to yourself than to any of the others.

With a soft swoosh, the spirits lift from the demon’s body, slowly floating away on their quest to wherever Eywa sent them next. You’re left staring at the demon for long moments, his own eyes staring at you. When the eclipse ends, you’re not sure what to do next, so you lead them back to the waterfall, letting them play as you continue to stare at the demon.

“Listen, darling,” He starts as he walks up to you, startling you out of your thoughts. But instead of continuing, he falters before sighing deeply, his long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose again as you end up just standing there in silence.

The darkness of night has wrapped around Pandora by the time you’re at the base once more. Walking after the demon to your metal room, you’re surprised to see that you’re not taking the usual way. The demon leads you through dark corridors that lead to a big community room of some sort. You walk on through it, taking note of the beautiful big see-through metal walls. How you long to be able to go into the forest at will. Walking into yet another corridor, which leads to another and then another one after that, you notice how the doorways are your size this time. Still, the demon keeps on walking until you reach the end.

He swipes his hand over the box on the door, waiting until it lights green before pushing the door open. It leads to another room, this one with a see-through metal wall overlooking the forest in the distance. Walking over to the wall, you lay your hand on the cold metal, longing to be back with the Great Mother again. Turning, you catch the demon off guard, his eyes gentle, lips slightly parted.

“This will be your new room,” He lets you know, face hardening once more as his shoulders straighten. “Corporal Wainfleet is on that side of the wall and I’m on this side, so don’t try anything,”

You watch as he points left and right, noting that the demon’s room is the one at the end. Scenting the air, however, you notice how the room smells like Lyle. Instantly, you feel your heart clench for the man. It’s not easy to just uproot and move what was once yours, to do so for an enemy could not be easy for the gentle man.

“I will say thank you to Lyle tomorrow,” You inform the demon, watching as shock spreads across his face before curiosity sets in. Showing the demon gratitude, you decide to explain how you knew. “Na’vi has good smell. This room smell like him,”

“You can smell and place our differences?” The demon asks, eyes wide as he lowers his head in curiosity.

“It is the Na’vi way,” You smile up at him, noting how he becomes deep in thought.

“And you recognize Lyle’s scent?”

“Yes,”

“Do you recognize the others too?” He prompts, looking at you with some kind of wonder.

You just nod, watching as he straightens once more, still deep in thought. Spider shifts in your arms, still deep asleep. Smiling down at him, you note just how much he’s grown in the last year. He’s becoming a young man too quickly, yet not fast enough. Times like this, when he would crawl into your arms or fall asleep on you, had become fewer as he grew. You couldn’t help the small part of you that was grateful to prolong these moments, your motherly instincts not ready to let your son go just yet.

“Do you recognize my scent too?” The question is asked so softly, so filled with genuine curiosity, that you almost miss it, too wrapped up in your own guilty musings.

“Yes,” You still hear yourself reply gently.

Looking up from your son’s sleeping face, you’re met with the sharp yellow ones of the man standing before you. There’s something so soft in them this time, it pulls you in, captivates you, freezing you to the spot. There’s something being said without words, but you can’t hear it, too lost in the demon’s eyes to notice anything at all.

“What’s going on?” Spider asks from your arms, breaking the spell that had wrapped itself around you.

Immediately, the demon breaks eye contact, the harsh mask sliding over his face once more. Nodding, he turns around and walks toward the door, opening it briskly before slamming it shut again, leaving you staring after him in silent bewilderment.

“Mom, where are we?” Spider climbs down from your arms, looking around the lit room with curiosity.

“Our new room,” You turn to him, smiling gently as you see him touch and lift things.

“Seriously?” Spider turns to you, the surprise clear on his face.

“That’s what he said,”

You watch as Spider walks around the room, touching and inspecting decorations as he goes. There’s a black shiny thing on the wall opposite the big nest, another door beside the one the demon had walked through. Walking over to the nest, you scent it, noticing how it doesn’t smell of Lyle at all. In fact, it doesn’t smell like anyone, the scent strong and harsh like the metal room you came from. Maybe it had not been used before? But then, where had Lyle been sleeping?

A sharp sound came from the black shiny thing on the wall as Spider fickled with a black stick. Taking hold of your son, you lift him up and out of danger as you take the closest thing to you and throw it at the thing. It whines and screams, its big eye blinking rapidly before eventually closing its eye again. Screaming at it, you press yourself to the furthest corner of the room, placing Spider safely behind you as you stand ready for the next attack.

“What in the everloving tarnation is going on?” The demon bursts through the door, knife at the ready, before a few of the others follow close behind him, weapons at the ready too.

“Stay away, demon!” You scream at him, furious that he would be cruel enough to lull you into a sense of safety before leaving you in a room filled with hidden danger.

“What did you do?” He walks up to the dead creature on the wall, touching the big closed eye before putting his hands on his almost bare hips, a deep scowl on his face.

“It is dead.” You hiss back proudly, watching as his face darkens at his failed attempt at killing you.

“Lord, give me strength,” The demon mumbles, his long fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s a TV,”

“You can’t exactly expect them to know these things, boss,” Lyle chuckles from behind him, pulling a hushed chuckle from Mansk and Brown behind him.

“Thank you for your brilliant observation, Corporal,” The demon snaps back before turning to you again. “It’s not dangerous, sweetheart,”

“It tries to kill us,” You hiss back just as furiously.

“What happened?” He sighs, his long hands back on his all-but-bare hips once more.

“I touched that stick over there and the thing started screaming at us,” Spider steps out from behind you, pushing your hand, which automatically shoots over his chest protectively, away.

“What, this one?” The demon lifts the black stick in his hand, holding it up toward Spider.

Hissing, you try to shove Spider behind you once more, but instead, he bends down and walks through your legs with a whined “Mom,” before walking over to the demon. Distressed, you hiss and yip at him to come back, but he’s too curious about the stick in the demon’s hand. Heart beating rapidly in your chest, you look for anything to use as a weapon against the demon and his warriors, finding nothing. Your breath is coming faster and your sight becomes cloudy at the edges, but before you can do much of anything, you watch as the demon ruffles your son’s hair.

“Go back to your mother, kid,” He nods toward you, gently pushing Spider back in your direction. With a shaky hand, you reach for your son as he looks up at you.

“What’s wrong, mom?” Spider asks, his voice unsure of what’s going on with you.

“I’m okay, my love,” You try to reassure him, but you don’t feel all that reassured by your own words.

“Leave,” The demon grunts, waiting for his unit to leave the room before he sits down against the wall. “Take your time, sweetness,”

Using the wall behind you for support, you slide down to the ground, taking Spider with you. The demon’s sharp eyes are trained on you, once more locking you into whatever this is. You find yourself taking deep breaths before slowly letting it out, repeating the motion until your heart stops racing within your chest. It’s only then that you notice the demon breathing with you, silently guiding you as you slowly calm down. Closing your eyes, you lean your face into Spider’s hair, breathing him in, grounding you. He’s safe. He’s right there in your arms. Unharmed.

“We good, darling?” The demon drawls, voice raspy and rough.

Opening your eyes again, you take in how he looks. His body is bare, save for his weird-looking black tweng. He still holds his knife, but the blade is facing away from you. For a second, you wonder why they wear all of their clothes when they obviously have a form of tweng beneath it. Maybe it was an armor?

“Let me make it up to you?” He continues after you give him a slight nod of your head.

Getting up to his feet, the demon slowly walks over to you, extending his long arm for you to take. Looking at it with distrust, you huff through your nose before getting up on your own. The demon lifts the corner of his mouth before stepping back, giving you space.

“Come with me and I’ll show you around,”

You follow after the demon, listening intently as he describes different things inside the room. You especially loved how you could make the room illuminated and dark at will. The waterfall inside the second door, the bathroom, was oddly disappointing once you actually realized what it was. The water didn’t smell right and you quickly decided that you wouldn’t use it, instead cleaning the both of you when you got to go out.

“This um…” The demon stops beside what he called a sink, a weird look on his face, “This is where you do your business, sweetheart,”

“What business?” You ask him, not really getting why his face turns darker at the word.

“You know, when you need to relieve yourself,” He mumbles, and then it dawns on you.

“In there?” You ask him, interest piqued. The sky people sure had weird things.

“When you’re done, you just push this one and it flushes,” The demon continues, face growing darker. Walking out of the small bathroom, you watch as the demon stops before the tv, mumbling something to himself before turning around to look at you.

“Follow me,” He grunts before moving towards the still-open door.

You follow after him, Spider walking in front of you excited about the new stuff that he had just learned. The demon swipes his hand over the box on the next door, opening it before stepping aside, his arm outstretched to allow you to walk through the door first. The room is sparsely lit, a soft glow coming from a lamp in the corner by the demon’s big nest. His bed was a size bigger than the one in your room, the blankets stretched and neatly tucked into the sides. In the middle of the floor, his discarded clothing lay dumped. Your scream had obviously interrupted him in the middle of taking them off for the night. Stepping up beside you, the demon bends down to collect them, mumbling a gentle “Pardon,” before hanging the clothes on the back of a chair. The room smells so intensely of him that had you not already known that this was the demon’s room, there would be no doubt in your mind about it after scenting the air.

“This is called a remote control,” He drawls lazily, holding up a black stick identical to the one in your room. “If you press the red button here, the tv will turn on. Now, when you do, the screen will come to life… no that’s not the right words,”

“The TV shows live images from Earth. Plays, news reports, and so on,” He waits for the words to sink in before continuing. “Let’s try,”

And with that, he presses the red button on the remote control. The TV does come to life, the screen showing some kind of weird forest landscape. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, fascinating in a way you didn’t know. Spider walks forward and you immediately stiffen. You don’t get far however as the demon hurries to lay his hand over the screen, showing you that there’s no danger to it. Slowly, you inch forward after Spider, watching as he too lays his hand on the screen, chuckling uncertainly before mumbling how cold it was. The demon smiles down at him before he looks up into your eyes, nodding his head for you to join them.

“Come on, mama, it won’t hurt you, I give you my word,” The smile on his face grows warm, his eyes glittering in the light from the TV.

You inch forward, hand outstretched, and finally touch the screen. It’s like Spider says. The screen is smooth and cold beneath your fingers. You can feel your ears pointing forward with interest as you gently tap it with your fingers, still, it does not react.

“Why was it screaming? Was it in pain?” You ask, to which the demon chuckles low, a gentle smile on his face.

“Probably just opened a channel with an action movie or something. Lord knows what Lyle watches at night,” He answers, rubbing the back of his head before stopping, “A movie is like a retelling of a story… or something,”

“Movie,” You mumble to yourself, trying to wrap your mind around what it could be like.

“Hold on, let me find a movie for y’all,” The demon turns to the TV, pointing the remote control at it.

The screen changes each time he presses a button on the thing. With wide eyes, you watch as the scenery changes after a few seconds. This continues until suddenly the demon stops with a triumphant “ah”. The TV shows a foreign landscape with sky people on it, a small family with a child. Furry animals, much like your direhorses but with fewer legs, walk around in fenced areas. The sky people wear odd clothing, a different kind from the ones walking around on Pandora. As they walk around inside the screen, you’re unable to look away from it, fascination holding you prisoner.

Somehow, you end up sitting on the floor, the big nest supporting your back as you stare at the TV. Spider lay in the nest behind you to the right, his head in his hands as he stares with a fascination you haven’t seen in him before. It makes your heart soar in your chest, the warmth spreading to a fond smile on your face, that he’s able to experience this. The demon spares chaste glances at you both, his ears at attention when Spider eventually falls asleep. You just intend to watch a little bit more before getting him to your own nest, but before you know it, you’ve fallen asleep too.

It’s bright and sunny when you wake up, and you’re so comfortably warm. Stretching, you rub your face into the warm surface, noting how nice and safe it smells. Smiling at Spider’s clinging arms around you, you sigh sleepily, opening your eyes, only to discover that it’s not Spider that’s holding you. The surface you’ve been sleeping on is blue, the chest broad and warm as the demon breathes beneath your head, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he rests his head on top of yours. Startling, you pull yourself out of his long arms, jumping to your feet, startling him awake in turn. Bleary yellow eyes look up at you before they pop open with alarm, his head turning as he looks around the room, finding nothing to have startled you. And then his eyes widened with realization.

Spider still sleeps soundly in the nest, his small figure curled up in his - in the demon’s blankets. You’re left staring at each other in silence for a long time, the demon’s face is unreadable, but his ears are pointed at you while his tail moves lazily behind him where he still sits on the floor. The tension is thick enough that Spider eventually wakes up, his eyes just as bleary as the demon’s had been as he looks around his surroundings with confusion. Not breaking eye contact with the demon, you move to sit in the nest. Dearing to look at your son, his beautiful brown eyes look up at you with a slight smile.

“Good morning, my dearest,” You smile at him, watching as he grins before swatting your hand away when you try to push his hair from his face.

“Morning, mom,” Spider yawns before stepping out of the warm nest to grab the remote control, effectively turning the TV on again.

The demon huffs a chuckle and shakes his head as he stands to his feet, excusing himself as he walks into his own bathroom. You can hear the shower running and the demon’s hissed mumbling through the closed door. Given a moment to yourself, you walk over to the see-through metal wall, placing your hand against it. What was happening to you? It wasn’t like you to be this unguarded, especially not while Spider was with you. Yesterday had been a lot, but you couldn’t have been so tired as to just fall asleep like that, especially not leaning up against the demon himself.

Shaking your head in frustration, you turn to look at your son. He wears a beautiful indulgent smile as he stares at the sky people inside the TV screen. He looks so happy about this new little discovery. The door to the bathroom opens and the demon steps out in his weird tweng. His short hair and queue are wet, but the rest of him is dry. His body is absolutely massive now that you actually have the time to look at him. You keep your eyes trained on him as he walks over to his clothes, applying them one by one as he covers up. A small part of you - a very small part - feels regret at not being able to see his long, strong torso and back anymore, as well as his thickly muscled thighs. It was a shame, really, but you respected the difference between tribes and what they wore. His would be no different. Distantly, you notice that he leaves his booths behind as he walks to the door, stepping out and closing it without looking back.

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding before sinking down into the nest beside Spider. Plopping back, you stare up at the ceiling before rolling around, curling up in the blanket Spider had used. It’s still warm and smells of him as you wrap it around you. Closing your eyes, you only intend to rest a little from the intense start of the morning, but before you know it, you’re deep asleep again, safely swaddled in a scent that makes you feel protected and loved.

Chapter 5 | Masterpost | Chapter 7

#miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #quaritch #recom quaritch #na'vi miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar the way of water #Mech writes #Ma Miles

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twistedkans · 2 months

Text

Yours - Part Two

→ A Glorious Masquerade Malleus x Reader x Rollo commission for my bestie

Warnings: mild Rollo-typical psuedoreligious content Characters: Yuu (Reader), Rollo Flamme, Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.7k

Part One | Part Three

(Also available on Ao3)

༻ My Soul ༺

“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love.” ― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

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Malleus had a penchant for disappearing from the watchful gazes of others, to secret spots only he knew of, where he could be alone for whatever reason he desired. In only a day since arriving in Fleur City, Malleus already had a few spots to whisk away to. In this particular instance, he chose the underground tunnel systems.

You were brought along with him, never destined to meet up with the others as you had intended to. It was easy enough not to mind this impromptu escape and forget about all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this. That in of itself was a reason, anyhow, to do something that felt wrong.

Something forbidden.

With Malleus’ hand on your back, he guided you through the labyrinthine of tunnels with confidence and ease.

“Have you been here before?”

“Only today,” was Malleus’ response.

His answer left you wondering. “How do you know where to go? I already feel lost.”

Malleus paused in his tracks and you were brought to a stop with him. He put a finger to his chin in thought. “I know not where we are headed.”

Your face dropped, and you almost felt like laughing. “Hornton, are you joking.”

To that, Malleus shook his head. “I would never lie to you, child of man.” His words made your heart flutter, as if he meant so much more than just this one instance.

When you didn’t give him a response, Malleus took that as his queue to pull you along once more. You didn’t mind the comfortable silence that fell over the two of you. Just as it was easy to speak with the fae, it was so, so easy to enjoy the tranquility with him. There was no pressure to fill the void for it was already with the other’s presence alone. What more could you ever ask for?

Nothing, that is what Malleus hoped your answer would be.

You were the only person who understood him, who could peer into his eyes and see him as more than the Crowned Prince of Briar Valley, or one of the five most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland, or some to be both feared and revered, for you did none of that—rather, he yearned to worship you, but that was a conversation for much, much later. You didn’t treat him like something different. Through you, he could learn what it meant to be wanted.

Just as he wanted you.

You pulled your hand away from his, snapping him out of his thoughts. Once more, he stopped, and all too many emotions twisted his expression to something solemn.

“Sorry Hornton,” you spoke as you wiped your hand on your clothes. “My hand is really sweaty.”

Malleus frowned. “You have my apologies, child of man.” He took your hand between both of his, and you quickly caught on to what he was doing as tingles of cold licked your skin and dispersed the remaining sweat from your skin into nothingness.

“There, now our hands may remain entwined with one another.”

You had not the words to respond, and without realizing it, you were walking side by side with Malleus once more, hands clasped together, cooled by his magic so not even a single bead of sweat formed on your hand. It took minutes, many minutes to fully process Malleus’ kind and intimate gesture.

Although it was a bit of a dumb comment, you said, “Hornton, you don’t need to use your magic on me. I just get sweaty a lot.”

Without missing a beat, he replied, “I wish to hold your hand.”

And how could you say no to that?

“Okay.” Your cheeks were flushed pink, as were your ears, both from the cold and your own embarrassment.

As the two of you traversed the various tunnels, occasionally breaking the silence with short conversation, your heart beat fast in your heart like an overworked machine, pounding in your ear like a blaring siren, yet you felt this “siren” could only be good.

Malleus stopped you both after turning a corner and stood in front of you. He took your other hand in his and leaned close to your ear, muttering in a pleasantly spine chilling voice something so sacred to him, something taken for granted or spoken frivolously, something he knew you would not treat the same way.

With his given permission, you too handed over what to you was much the same, something so precious to the man before you, something that stirred the feelings in his heart and blossomed into something he’d never felt before.

This was true love.

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The ornate halls of Noble Bell College were near-barren and almost eerily quiet. Only the sound of your footsteps echoing against a wooden floor shiny enough to be mistaken for glass or marble. You weren’t sure where you were in the school, despite having assured Malleus you knew exactly how to get to the others when he dropped you off. One could only imagine where he might be going so close to the social’s grandiose opening as most of the other guests and students prepared for the night’s spectacle that awaited them.

And what a spectacle it would be, but you didn’t know that.

”Good evening, Yuu.”

The sudden—and rather unpleasant—familiar voice that breathed into your ear nearly caused you to jump. You whipped your head around with a frown you couldn’t quite conceal when you were greeted with the sight of Rollo, who should have had plenty of other places to be in preparation for the event that was to come.

You swallowed your nerves and gave him a cordial response. “Good evening to you too, Rollo. Shouldn’t you be helping prepare for the social?”

Something in Rollo’s eyes seemed to jump out at you, trying to lunge forward and grab you, but his figure remained still. “Naturally I have many duties as the host of this masquerade.” He spoke with more venom than his greeting to you, but it was subdued as quickly as it appeared. “However, your absence from Night Raven College’s group upon their return did not go unnoticed. That familiar of yours was quite distraught, even to tears, if I may add.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest at the thought of Grim crying over your “disappearance”, especially so soon after the incident on the Island of Woe.

However, you replied with the one thing that had persistently been on your mind for much longer than you would openly admit. “What about Hornton? Did he go back with them?”

Rollo’s expression shriveled up like a raisin, and that was enough to brighten your spirits. You held back a laugh as he cleared his throat, letting his eyes fall shut momentarily in an effort to compose himself.

Funny, you seemed to catch him off-guard quite often.

Although Rollo knew who exactly this “Hornton” was, he feigned ignorance to preserve himself, or whatever other excuse he could conjure up to not acknowledge his enemy. ”Who do you refer to?”

”Malleus, I mean.”

Curse you for speaking his name, but bless you for not elaborating, even if you only didn’t to keep this conversation as brief as possible.

Curse those flames that raged in his heart, curse the fires of hell that licked at his feet, curse that malicious gleam in his eye that brought shame upon him.

Curse Malleus Draconia, yet another careless mage who found pleasure in the sin of magic.

Curse you, Yuu, for tempting a pious man into aphrodisia.

And curse Malleus Draconia once more, for threatening to take what was rightfully his.

Yet these curses were not spoken aloud. Rollo could not allow them to be more than fleeting thoughts, the ends of threads that painted his mind like a rainbow, chains that chastised his mind and left bruises in their wake. This was his own punishment, he needn’t act further.

”No, I have not seen him.”

Your shoulders dropped. It never crossed your mind to worry for Malleus’ safety before now. You didn’t want him to be alone, to miss the social (though you knew he wouldn’t be late after receiving a formal invitation), and you certainly didn’t want him to be in any danger.

Rollo could see the thoughts swarming your mind like a dark plague. This was his chance to be the light and show you the way.

”Surely you do not worry for the safety of the great Malleus Draconia? One could presume certain…feelings to be involved in such ways of thinking.” His voice shook as he spoke, which he masked with an expression of disgust as he fetched his handkerchief from his pocket.

Your cheeks flushed red before you could reply. The fiery pits of hell opened up for their next feast.

”Or, one might conclude such irrationality to be the work of magic.”

Everything was still in an instant, like a photograph ingrained in your mind, but Rollo composed himself once more and replied in a softer tone. “Go to the bell tower. I shall not ask you to climb all of those steps, so please wait at the bottom. I have an important favor to ask of you.”

Just like a lonesome ghost, Rollo left with not a single sound.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Had he been any other man or woman, Rollo could have feigned flattery at the prospect of being stalked by what most considered ethereal beauty.

All he felt was disgust at the monster who refused to leave him alone with his vice for just a single moment.

”Malleus Draconia.” His voice rang through the empty hall.

The man in question could only give him half a proper reply. “Flamme.” He strode towards the shorter man with fear-invoking confidence, but it was Rollo’s intention to stand his ground. “I see you’ve made special plans tonight, hm?”

”Surely you jest. We only wish to show the very best to Night Raven College’s esteemed students, but I am afraid I am unfamiliar with what may be a proper way to display my gratitude to such a unique group of people.”

Malleus chuckled. “Gratitude? For what, Flamme?”

Silence washed over them as Malleus awaited a response with genuine curiosity behind those sharp eyes. Rollo’s lack of a response only fueled Malleus’ irritation. He couldn’t be up to any good, certainly not with the way he had been acting. Malleus wanted to see the best in him after receiving that invitation, but how could he not doubt his intentions or ignore the way the boy looked at what was his.

Without a response, Rollo turned and left, and Malleus let him leave, because he knew the answer he dreaded was soon to come.

Tag List: @girl-nahh-two

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ mod apple #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #twst x reader #twst x yuu #malleus draconia #rollo flamme #malleus x reader #rollo x reader

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yvnaology · 2 months

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✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒… 「 YVNAOLOGY’S OFFICIAL FONTINALIA FESTIVAL ! 」

✰ THE FONTAINE FILM ASSOCIATION HAS A MESSAGE FOR YOU! ( please read below at your earliest convenience. )

greetings, dear traveler! on (01/04/24) we’ve reached 300 followers ✦ a milestone such as this only requires the most celebratory event as a reward for your support. you are hereby invited to join us in the world of film, where productions are manufactured and spread across dimensions — the fontinalia festival!

♯ LINK TO EVENT MASTERLIST HERE!

{ 🎬 } SUBMISSIONS: 15/15 [ NO LONGER TAKING SUBMISSIONS. ]

{ 🎞️ } QUEUE: 0/15 submissions completed.

🎥 R & R ( RULES / REGULATIONS. )

❝where can i enter my submission?❞ i only accept submissions via the ask box, do not send me dms or comment on this post with your submission — they will likely be ignored.

❝how long will the event last for?❞ the event runtime will be from february 20th — march 20th.

❝how do i participate in this event?❞ you are required to: provide me with 1 of your favs, choose 1-2 dialogues + a scene from a movie out of the ones i’ve provided below. one submission per person!

❝which fandoms/characters will you write for?❞ this is open to both genshin impact & honkai: star rail! open for all playable characters for both games (+ sunday, robin, aventurine, firefly from hsr.)

❝when will you be posting the completed submissions?❞ i will begin working on the submissions after the end date, which is march 20th & until then my inbox will be clearing sporadically — a reminder that i am a high school student! not a machine 🤍

✉️ message from the opera epiclese. here is your provided template (not required to use.) :: can i have [dialogue 1] / or + [dialogue 2] using scenario [1-40]? with (1 character), please!

ex. can i have “you look wonderful tonight.” + “stay close to me.” using scenario 1? with dan heng, please!

[REMINDER: IM ONLY WRITING FOR ONE CHARACTER YOU SEND, DO NOT SEND IN MULTIPLE.]

[ ☆ SECTION : DIALOGUE PROMPTS. ]

#1 : “you look wonderful tonight.”

#2 : “stay close to me.”

#3 : “your smile is my favorite kind of magic.”

#4 : “i didn’t choose you; my heart did.”

#5 : “i didn’t plan on falling in love, but i’m glad it happened with you.”

#6 : “in your gaze, i’m found.”

#7 : “where’s my kiss?”

#8 : “you’re betting on this, aren’t you?”

#9 : “i need you to be okay.”

#10 : “stay strong for me, for us.”

#11 : “it doesn’t have to be like this.”

#12 : “keep your eyes on me.”

#13 : “what are we?”

#14 : “thank god you’re safe.”

#15 : “you can lean on me.”

#16 : “you look more than okay.”

#17 : “don’t overdo, don’t overthink.”

#18 : “quit teasing me.”

#19 : “do you want me to hold you?”

#20 : “i love you more than words can describe.”

#21 : “you, of all people? don’t make me laugh.”

#22 : “but friends don’t do the things we do.”

#23 : “you’re getting distracted again, love.”

#24 : “i can’t take my eyes off you.”

#25 : “tell me things you’ve never told anyone else.”

#26 : “please don’t do this to me.”

#27 : “give me your hand.”

#28 : “it’s only you and i.”

#29 : “i didn’t mean what i said.”

#30 : “take a deep breath, will you?”

#31 : “do you trust me?”

#32 : “take a chance on me.”

#33 : “what are you planning?”

#34 : “hurting you is the last thing i wanted to do.”

#35 : “you’re making a mistake.”

#36 : “if you walk away, don’t come back.”

#37 : “what are you so afraid of?”

#38 : “who are you trying to impress?”

#39 : “i didn’t think you’d mess up so horribly.”

#40 : “are you sure that’s how you do it?”

[ ★ SECTION : MOVIE SCENES. ]

#1 : ballroom dance

#2 : candlelit dinner

#3 : umbrella sharing

#4 : beach/ocean escapade

#5 : receiving a love letter

#6 : ferris wheel confession

#7 : family meeting

#8 : midnight stroll

#9 : proposal

#10 : combat training

#11 : them teaching you their craft

#12 : cafe date

#13 : jealousy episode (specify who gets jealous reader or character)

#14 : breakup

#15 : finding out a dark secret

#16 : post-argument

#17 : visiting them at work

#18 : bookstore date

#19 : acknowledging an academic rival

#20 : comforting them after a hard day

#21 : doing their hair

#22 : doing their skincare

#23 : shopping spree

#24 : flashback to childhood

#25 : first time meeting their family member(s)

#26 : them showing you off to their friends

#27 : promposal

#28 : falling asleep on the couch while waiting for their return

#29 : death (specify reader or character)

#30 : first kiss

#31 : unrequited love reveal

#32 : finding out they’re hung up on their past love

#33 : pocky game

#34 : confession failed successfully (specify reader or character)

#35 : locked in a room together

#36 : enemies finding out they’re in love

#37 : rekindling a lost spark

#38 : ex-husband visiting you

#39 : comforting overworked s/o (or reverse, specify)

#40 : first date gone wrong

#yvnaology300.txt ✦#astronetwrk #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n

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janmisali · 1 year

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#poll #jan misali #queue

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xlovingcupcakex · 5 months

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M!Kylar x F!Reader - Gaming (Part 1)

You and Kylar meet through League. Two dorks in love. Fluff. I could make it into GN!Reader but I need the reader to be female for the next part, so yeah. There's not much League things, it's more like a plot device. So anyone can read it, even if you don't play league I made it pretty vague on purpose. As always, love y'all!

No trigger warnings, unless you count in League. Kylar is Kylar. Yeah.

2.1k Words. Not including headcanons.

As your game came to an end, the bold letters flashed on the screen. Although the game wasn’t won, you still had a lot of fun. Especially since your support was good, and it seemed like the both of you had a good synergy.

It was no surprise that you sent them a friend request and an invite to your next game, hoping to play some more with them. A feeling of joy rose up in your stomach as they accepted both invitations, their preferred lane positions already picked and ready. You were already ready to start the next game as well.

As you started up the queue, you asked them the basics, getting to know them better. If your synergy together was as good as you suspected, you definitely wanted to play more with them. And you for sure wanted to keep them around if that was the case! Making new friends in-game was fun, after all.

Music played on Spotify as your anonymous support was answering your questions. The answers were short and curt, giving your duo an aura of mystery around them. However, in the end you found out a few things about your lane partner.

First off, they were a man, and his name was Kylar. He was also around the same age as you, he even studies computer science! Although his answers were short, his questions about you were plentiful. You answered most of them without a second thought, as long as they weren’t questions about your exact location. However, you didn’t mind giving him a vague answer, like which major city you live close to.

You also made sure to cheer him up through the messages as best as you could when something didn’t work out on bot lane. His Nami was on point, he was actively using his ability to slow down the enemy, only to follow up with a bubble that would stun them, thus giving you a kill. But sometimes, things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to, all thanks to random visits from the enemy, which would catch both of you off guard.

But you made sure to calm him down each time, giving sweet words of encouragement, effectively bringing him back to his composed state almost immediately, or at least, it looked that way after you saw his playstyle improve. You also made sure to praise him each time he did something good. Although you weren’t sure if it had any impact on him because of the lack of voice chat, you still hoped you made his day, since he kept writing back “Thank you.” each time you gave him a compliment.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylar was a melting mess behind his computer screen after each time you have him a compliment. You were so nice and so easy to talk to! Not to mention, you were really good at the game. And you knew what to say to him to make him calm down. It’s like it was fate for both of you to meet!

Oh, how much fun does he have playing with you. He was actually the first one to ask you to play with him next day, too. Kylar spent the whole day being online as soon as he woke up, since he didn’t want to miss you and he really, really wanted to spend more time with you. He has made sure to give you lots of compliments as well that day.

Hiding behind the screen gave him the anonymity, hence making him more courageous. You appeared slightly later than usual, which made him worry as he started to overthink as to why you could be late by two hours compared to your usual time. So, it’s no wonder he went ahead and asked subtly, disguised under the pretext of asking how your day was.

Oh, so you had to do some grocery runs and buy a few things! Oh, it’s getting colder, and you bought some sweaters, as well! He was sure you looked so good in the virgin killer you bought. Kylar is so sure you bought it for a potential meeting with him, his Darling dressing up all nice and pretty just for him.

Although he didn’t know how you looked like yet, he was sure you were just the most beautiful Goddess on earth. It’s impossible for someone as kind and nurturing as you to not be beautiful to him!

He could only hope that you felt the same excitement whenever you spent time with him. You had to. Otherwise, why spend time with him? You surely had a thing for him too. You had to.

The more you played with Kylar the more attached you got. He was fun to text to and play with, and his mysterious nature made you more curious about him. You tried asking more questions over the last few weeks and lately, you’ve been curious about what he sounds like. At some point your head made up a deep voice, fitting for his mysterious personality.

It didn’t take long for you to take matters into your own hands, asking him whether not he wanted to join a Discord call with you. You were so ready to hear his voice. The thought actually made you all giddy and excited. As you exchanged Discord nicknames, you glanced at the screen. His nickname was Yamada-Kun, the same as his in-game nickname. He also had a picture of Yamada from ‘leveling up Yamada-Kun to lv999’.

Your heartbeat quickened up as you clicked the call button, ready to hear Kylar’s voice for the first time. Kylar answered instantly, which surprised you. You barely even heard the Discord call noise; you were instantly connected to a call with him.

Kylar shuffled about in his room, stumbling over his things. His hands felt shaky. His hands were sweating. He dried his hands by brushing them against his pants, hopefully less sweaty now. Kylar was so excited that he knocked over the microphone by mistake! Getting it took some time, since he had to be sneaky about it, but it was so worth it. Now his Darling can hear him in the highest possible quality! He was such a good boyfriend for you!

As the microphone fell, you shrank a little at the noise, curious as to what happened. “Hello?” you said. “Is everything okay, Kylar?”.

Your voice was so nice to him, so pretty and calming. It felt so good to hear you that he almost forgot about the microphone completely. He gingerly picked it up and placed it back on his desk. Then, he cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. My microphone just fell.”

Oh, he did not sound like you expected. Not in a bad way, of course! You didn’t expect him to sound so shy and nervous, that’s all. But it was so cute that you just had to tease him.

“Feels good to finally hear you, my Dear Duo! I was so excited. And I’m still excited for playing today. You ready?”

Although you couldn’t see it, Kylar was nodding his head repeatedly, black locks of hair flying around and messing up his hairstyle, making it more messy than usual. “Y-Yeah, that sounds absolutely great, my Lovely.”

Oh, he was using back pet names as well. He was so shy you thought he wouldn’t use it. You leaned back in your chair, pulling up League and logging it, then picking your preferred role to play before inviting Kylar to the game.

God, his voice was so nice to listen to, even with all the stuttering and occasional voice cracks when he complimented you on nice actions you did in-game. It was so soft and delicate. Your ears felt hot and you felt a flush come to your cheeks as you listened to his voice. You desperately wanted to hear more, so you gradually asked him more questions, which he seemed to answer gladly, happy to satisfy your curiosity.

The atmosphere on call was comfortable and it was nice to talk to someone during ranked games. Whenever he gave you a compliment or used a pet name, each time more confident than the other, you felt your stomach buzzing with energy.

You reflected the same energy back to him. You did have some kind of crush on him. But that’s because he seemed so curt and mysterious in the beginning, and now you found yourself falling for how cute and shy he was being on voice.

Your throat sometimes squeezed up, making it harder for you to say what you wanted. You didn’t even notice when you started to get nervous whenever you complimented him. Or used a pet name. You don’t remember when the last time was you felt so hot and giddy around someone else.

But you knew that the feeling, despite it being slightly uncomfortable, made you feel mostly good. Happy.

With how cold it was getting lately, your hands started to gradually become cold, to a point where you just couldn’t bear it anymore.

“I think I should lay down and heat up, Kylar. My hands are cold as fuck.” You said. You exited the game and started to slowly close up other tabs you might have had open.

“You could lay down a-and I’ll stream for you, Love! P-Please stay!” he sounded so desperate, it almost made you feel bad for wanting to go and lie down. A chuckle left your lips. He was so adorable. Like a bunny.

“Sure. I’ll call from my phone in a few minutes. Need to change into my night clothes. Be right back, Darling!” and so you ended the call. You got ready and as soon as you laid in the bed, Kylar instantly called you, almost as if knowing you are in bed already. Huh. He must have some crazy 6th sense.

You answered the call, getting comfortable under the covers. You already felt warmer, but not warm enough. Kylar pulled up some videos on YouTube as you guys chatted. Soon enough, he changed to Osu instead, showing you off his skill. Trying his best to impress you.

“Jesus, my hands still feel so cold. F-fuck, my whole body is cold.” you mindlessly complained, snuggling more into the comfort of your quilt and soft pillows, impatiently waiting for your body to generate enough warmth.

“I can be your blanket, Love!”

You almost choked on your salvia as your breath hitched, suddenly feeling shy as you mulled over his words. He wants to cuddle you. Or was it something else? You felt so light-headed you weren’t really sure. You hid your face in your covers.

“S-Sure. And I can be your pillow.”

This time it was Kylar’s turn to blush. He stopped whatever he was doing in Osu, his brain short circuiting. He destroyed his own streak on the current Osu map he was playing and because of the level difficulty you soon heard an old retro melody that would signal that the map has been failed.

His hands felt... Grabby. He desperately wanted to hug you. Feel you under his fingers. Give you the warmth you need. Slightly sweaty, too. He gulped.

“W-We should meet up, if you really want to c-cuddle, Love.... Can we meet? Please, Love. I want to meet with you so badly. Give me the address and I’ll come as fast as possible, no matter how far you are.”

His phone was already in the palm of his hand, looking up how far the busses and trains in his area would cost and how far they can take him. He was pretty serious about it.

You felt so embarrassed by your words. You gripped your pillow tighter, bringing it close to your chest. You were unsure on what to say as you contemplated your next words. You really wanted that hug.

“Okay, but... Only if you are somehow not that far away. Okay? You can come to (address)” you said. It wasn’t your home, but a place that was near enough. A gas station. A place where there are always people. It’s late and it would be the safest.

Kylar immediately looked up the place and noticed it’s 40 minutes away by buss. He started grinning, a red flush took over his cheeks, reaching his ears and neck. He gripped his phone tighter, already packing things he might need into his bag.

“G-Great. I’ll be there in an hour and a half! Jus-st wait for me, Love!” he ended the call, getting ready to meet up with you as fast as possible while you collected yourself and thought about what you have gotten yourself into.

-------------------------

A few other things I've thought about while writing this one.

Some Kylar headcanons ahead!

They are probably into Otome dating games.

In games like Osu! or Killing Floor, they are a casual player.

More competitive games make them aggressive, although they don’t show it on chat if there’s a penalty.

They do, however, make noises/sounds of frustration, maybe slamming their hand against the desk or keyboard, but never anything full-on destructive.

Of course, Kylar will hold those reactions back when playing with you!

To be honest, you have a calming effect on them.

I feel like Kylar would be a Nami main when it comes to support, alternatively other cute champs like Lulu, Soraka, Lux. But enjoys an occasional Pyke or Senna.

You bet they play anime songs/openings, Hatsune Miku or other Japanese music while beating the maps on Osu!

If they are not playing anime songs/openings, they sure as fuck play emo/scene music. Pierce The Veil, Breaking Benjamin, Asking Alexandra. Sounds about right to me. Oh yeah, also listens to Night Core.

I feel like at first, they would be court and short when it comes to messages. Mostly because they are shy and so they would seem cold at first. And yeah, you can’t hear their stuttering.

But writing stutters and such also suits them lmao. I think they would use a lot of (…) whenever they write something.

I am sure they would be voiceless at first because they would need to steal a microphone/headphones with microphone first, just so they can talk to you.

#loving's writing #dol kylar #kylar the loner #degrees of lewdity kylar #kylar degrees of lewdity #kylar x reader #male kylar #dol kylar x reader #kylar dol #dol x reader #dol #degrees of lewdity x reader #degrees of lewdity

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