#ignore this and wait for the poem if you prefer

[rumor-imbris]

I was editing a shot for tonight's poem when my bf shows me a meme-video about Assassin's Creed soundtrack. It should have made me laugh, or smile, but... hearing Ezio's Family in the background simply made burst into tears. Because all it was, now is no more...

Ubisoft only killed and buried six feet under its most beautiful creature forever, sacrificed on the shrine of trade

That's it, just wanted to share

[starlight-writer]

Fighting

A)n: Heyyyy... I'm back :)

Warning: none, angst, yelling, arguing

Gn reader Masterlist

Steven

He doesn’t yell

But it’s that exactly that makes it worse

He refuses to yell, but he’ll be a sarcastic little shit

“Oh really? How lovely.”

“Oh my dearest apologies, my liege, I didn’t realize I had to agree with everything you had to say.”

Steven won’t back down, he’ll keep this energy until he’s done talking about it and then he’ll ignore you

He won’t ask how your day's been, he won't hug you, he won't even look at you

And it’ll drive you crazy

The only reason this started was because Steven missed a date and didn’t acknowledge that he would be late or wanted to cancel

He was working late for Donna again, but this time it just set off something in his head

Normally you wouldn’t be too upset about him missing a date, seeing as he’s got other people to take care of and he’s got a shitty boss, but when you asked him about the date, he blew up

“God, it was one date, why do you have to nag me about it?”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t trying to nag you, Steven, I just wanted to know what happened.”

“You’re not my bloody parent, you don’t need to know!”

“Take that back.”

“No.”

And now you're in your room and Steven's sleeping on the couch

That night will give him time to realize he was in the wrong and he'll feel super guilty

When he wakes up with a stiff back and sore neck, he'll think he deserves it

He'll wait until you come out to get up

And then he's following you around like a lost puppy

He won't say anything, but he'll look so sad and just be following you everywhere you go

It would be cute if you weren't upset with him

You'll have to be the one to start a conversation, but as soon as you say a single word to him, Steven's apologizing faster than you can process

"Love, I'm so so sorry. I was an absolute knob, I was so stressed and upset yesterday and I know that's not a reason to treat you so terribly, but it was such a bad day. I promise I'll make it up with 3, no, 5 dates! We can do whatever you want today and tomorrow and all week! Please forgive me, darling. I know I don't deserve it, but please just give me another chance."

He looks like he's about to burst into tears and kneel for you

(Which would be hot in a different setting)

Depending on how passionate you feel about this, it might take some time to forgive him, but he's there every second of the day

Or if you want him to leave you alone, he'll respect that

You'll find little notes of lovey poems around the flat and your favorite snacks littered around the living room

He honestly feels like a terrible partner so when you do decide to forgive him, just give him a kiss and hug him

He'll cry and apologize a bunch more so just pet his head and tell him it's ok

He'll genuinely sit you down and ask if there's something he can do to get his 'anger issues' under control

Poor baby doesn't have anger issues, he just has a shitty boss <3

Marc

He yells

He yells loud and painful things

He doesn’t care, he can’t bother to care

He’s angry and that’s all he feels

He can’t think past it, it’s like he sees red

He’ll shout until his throat is raw, but he’ll get as many insults and sarcastic comments he can before that happens

He knows what he’s doing is wrong, he knows the only reason you’re arguing is because of him

But he’s not backing down

He wants to hurt you and he does

And it makes everything worse for at least a week

Marc came home absolutely wreaked from a fight and refused your help, preferring to drink and just sit there

If you weren’t so upset at the fact he refused your help and instead wanted the help of alcohol, you’d yell at him about staining the couch with his blood

You’ll either have to deal with Marc breaking out into an argument after the initial one, or leave to stay somewhere else

If you come back the next day, Marc will still be upset

He won’t start yelling at you again, but he’ll ignore you

And it really just stops there

It’s the silent treatment for a week

He'll make dinner for you and all that, but he won't talk to you

He'll stare at you, wondering if you'll be the one to apologize

Or he'll be staring at you to see if you're watching him

You're not

He'll stay silent for an entire week, festering in his anger and guilt until it overflows

And when you come back home from work or being out late, he's waiting for you

And he looks like a kicked puppy

It was no surprise Marc had no idea how to apologize and admit/accept his feelings but at this moment, none of that mattered

His guilt and the feeling of missing you outweighed his discomfort of voicing his feelings

He'll start with an apology, saying how sorry he was and how terrible he felt

He didn't give any excuse or reason for his anger, he just apologized and stood there

He expects you to yell at him, leave him, insult him

Just gently take him in your arms and kiss his cheek

You don't even have to tell him anything, he'll promise to never yell at you like that again

"If I do, you can hit me as hard as you want."

Marc will say, though if you did actually hit him, he'd probably cry

He'll be so genuine with his words and.the nail in the coffin was the fact that he promised

Marc never makes promises, even if he knows he can fulfill them

But he swears up and down that he will never yell at you again

And he does everything in his power to reverse or heal the damage his words did to you

Even going out of his comfort zone

He loves you so much and he doesn't understand why you're still with him, but he thanks every God and Goddess that you are

Jake

He’s dangerously silent

He’ll stand there completely blanked face, eyes set in a slight glare as you argue about something that was definitely his fault

Maybe he missed a date and didn’t bother to let you know he wasn’t coming or wrote off your worry about a few injuries and called you ‘clingy’ and ‘overbearing’

Either way, he doesn’t respond to your anger, just standing there like he didn’t care

And it hurt

Once you were done explaining how you felt or what Jake did wrong, he’ll roll his eyes, pull out a cigarette and sit in the couch

He’ll play the baseball game he may have missed or just watch the news to really set in that something that boring was more interesting than your feelings

“Do you seriously find the news more important than our relationship?”

He won’t look at you

“I can’t believe this. If you care so fucking little, then why are you still here?”

“This is my house.”

“Then maybe I should go if it’s just your house.”

“You should.”

And you do

You go to a friends house, or a hotel, somewhere that you can rest for the night because you’re obviously not going to get anywhere with Jake and you can’t stand his attitude

The second you’re out of the room, Jake curses and throws the tv remote at the wall

He throws everything that he can without any worry of breaking something or getting a noise complaint

He'll throw bottles, plates, pillows, books

Once he's run out of steam, he'll shamefully clean up everything, throwing glass away and putting pillows back

That's give him the time he needs to realize 'oh shit, I fucked up'

He won't come out and admit it instantly, no

He'll fester in his guilt and figure out what exactly he should say

He'll even plan out when he should breathe during his apology

And when you get home, no matter when that is, Jake it waiting patiently with breakfast, lunch, or dinner

He'll give a nervous smile and walk up to you, giving you a hesitant kiss on your cheek before pulling you to the living room couch

Your plate of food is already made and somehow still warm despite Jake no knowing when you'd be back

He'll give an awkward apology, explaining how he's still not used to being something more than a protector for Marc and Steven, how he's still learning to let people in, how he loves you with all his heart despite being such a monster

He might start crying, but he'll try not to show you

He doesn't want to show vulnerability, but he knows it's important in a relationship

So he'll just ask very quietly if he can hug you

Is you say no, he'll nod in understanding as tears fall into his lap

He'll quietly mutter another apology and just sit there, unsure as to what to do

If you say yes, however, he'll gently wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head in your neck

He'll silently cry, muttering 'i love you' over and over again until you say it back

Just rub his back and kiss his head, tell him you forgive him or need time to forgive him and he'll understand either way

He loves you with his entire being, almost like he lives off of loving you

[holylulusworld]

Deranged Marriage (1) - Let it go

Title: Deranged Marriage

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Characters: Ayo, Okoye, Jake Jensen, Steve Rogers

Warnings: arranged marriage, language, unwilling groom, angst, Bucky being an ass, sadnes, banter, tension

A/N: I got no self-control so this will have more than one part.

Deranged Marriage masterlist

“Why, not daddy,” you whine as your father refuses to let you leave the party. “I’m an adult, you know. I want to spend some quality time with my friends.”

“Sweetie, you are a grown woman and must stop acting like a teenager. I want you to finally choose a husband. I got a list including a complete background check.”

Your father points at one of his business partners. “How about him? Or Stark’s son. I heard he adopted yet another boy. Maybe he’s your age.”

“Daddy, no. All your business partners are old, and their sons are stupid frat boys. I want a good-looking, strong, sexy, and tough man.”

“Fine,” your father seems to be just done with your behavior today. “Choose whoever you want. I don’t care. Just let me check his background first.” He shoves his glasses back up his nose. “Or do you prefer a pretty lady, sweetie? I’m open-minded, Y/N.”

“Daddy,” you mutter as he chuckles. Your father doesn’t seem to care you are close to throwing a tantrum. “Gosh, this is so annoying. I don’t need a husband to rule your empire.”

“I’m sure of it, sweetie,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward one of his newer business partners. “How about Rogers? He’s not too bad to look at.”

“He’s tall and attractive, but he only has eyes for that uptight British chick,” you sigh deeply. “You know that.”

“I don’t care. If I say he must marry you, he’ll do it.”

“And cheat on me,” you huff.

“Who else caught your attention, Y/N?” your father nudges your side. “You know I want you to be happy. But people are people. Especially in my line of work. You’ll need a strong man by your side.”

“I want—” you let your eyes wander. “I want…” you dip your head to glance at the man who caught your eyes months ago.

“Who, sweetie? I want you to tell me his or her name,” your father whispers so no one can spy on him. Even among his friends and partners spies and traitors are waiting for their chance.

“Barnes,” you point at James Buchanan Barnes. The cockiest and grumpiest of your father’s business partners. That man dared to ignore you for three years, and now, he’ll finally pay you attention.

“You want Barnes?” your father gasps. “You know he’s got quite the reputation. He’s not the kind of man settling for one woman, Y/N.”

“He’s tall, handsome, strong and I like his metal arm. It makes him imperfect but perfect at the same time. Like a poem without a rhyme or a painting missing a color,” you watch the brunette mobster push his neatly gelled hair back.

Bucky takes a large sip from his drink as he watches your father from across the room. He knows that his business partner is looking for a husband to take care of you. The mobster simply is not interested in your bratty ass.

“She’s staring your way, Buck,” Steve snickers. “Do you think she will choose you? I bet you’ll be putty in her hands.”

“Like hell,” Bucky grumbles. “I won’t marry. Not now. Not ever. He can keep his little brat. She’s the worst.”

Steve nods but watches his friend look your way again. “If you say so, Buck. I will get another drink and hide in the back before she finds me…”

“Barnes,” your father stalks toward your chosen husband. “We should talk about business. I know this is a party, but my girl chose you.”

“Chose me?” Bucky smirks in amusement. “What am I to her? One of the dogs you bought her only for her to lose them on of her shopping trips.”

“You know that I’m looking for someone to protect my daughter. She will take over my empire and will need a reliable and loyal man by her side.”

“No.”

You are fuming next to your father. James Buchanan Barnes dares to not even look at you. He once again ignores your whole existence.

“No?” you huff. “You should be honored I chose you. Men would kill to even get a smile from me.”

“They will kill themselves if you ever smile at them,” you gasp at his words. No one dared to talk to you like this before. “Don’t you get it, doll? No one likes you. You’re a spoiled brat without manners and you’re not my type.”

“Careful now, Barnes. I respected your father and we are partners. This doesn’t mean I let you talk like that to my daughter.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I won’t marry your daughter,” Bucky finally looks at you. “She is annoying, loud, and immature. Even her friends hate her.”

“My friends love me,” you fight back. “What do you know about my friends?” He laughs about your antics.

“I know that the girl you call your best friend since childhood is so afraid of what you will do to her family that she pretends to be your friend for almost fifteen years.”

“You’re lying. I hate you!”

“Oh, sweetness,” he takes a step toward you to look you up and down. “All of them are afraid of your father and his men. Did you ever think about how they will never say no? All of them always follow your lead.”

“No…” you step back, shaking your head. “I met Lavender at school. She wouldn’t lie. She’s my friend.”

You turn on your heels to run out of the ballroom, angrily wiping your tears off your cheeks. Bucky’s rejection and his words hit you hard.

“How dare he reject me. How dare he tell me lies about my friends!”

“He lied…he lied…” you pace back and forth while clutching a picture of you and Lavender to your chest. "She's my friend. All of them are…”

You sit on your bed, opening an old picture album. There are pictures of you and Lavender at the age of ten. You smile into the camera as your father just bought you another dog.

“She’s my friend,” closely looking at the picture you recognize for the first time that your friend doesn’t smile. There is something in her eyes you never saw before. Fear.

“No…no.”

You turn the pages, looking at all the pictures of you and your friends. “No…” You slam the album shut and fling it across the room. “She was a kid and a little intrigued by daddy and his men. I’m sure about it.”

For a moment you sit there in silence, remembering the day you met your best friend. She was new at your school. The only one not making a beeline around you.

Well, the other kids knew better than to get involved with a mafia boss’s daughter.

That day, someone wanted to mess with her and stole her backpack. She cried and you stepped in. One glare from you and the boy dropped the backpack and ran for his life. He didn’t have the guts to mess with you.

Lavender smiled and thanked you. She even hugged you, taking you by surprise. After school, you offered to drive her home. Or rather, your bodyguard drove her home.

You saw her father look at your bodyguard. It was written all over his face that he was scared of the man protecting you.

“What if…?” you whisper to yourself as you unlock your phone to look at more recent pictures. Lavender and you at her birthday party. You and your friends at a club. Lavender and her brother at a pool party. “She never smiles. None of them smiles.”

“Y/N, it’s me Okoye,” you sigh deeply as your bodyguard calls from outside your room. “Ayo is here too. Do you want to join us? Come on. Screw Barnes.”

“I’m a little tired.”

“What did he say, Y/N? Why are you hiding in your room?”

“It’s nothing. I got a terrible migraine and want to sleep. Don’t worry. Barnes can eat shit. I don’t care.”

“If you need me to kill him, give us a call.”

“Mr. James,” you nervously look at your best friend’s father. Barnes's words wouldn’t let you sleep. Now three days later you drove out of town to visit Lavender’s parents. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure…Y/N,” he stammers. “What can I do for you?”

“Lavender,” you lick your dry lips. “I—are you and your daughter afraid of my father? I need to know if Lavender became my friend out of fear.”

“No…” he chuckles nervously. “Why do you say such a thing? Lavender is your friend.”

“I see.”

You swallow audibly. Accepting the truth is the worst and most painful thing you’ll ever experience. “Thank you for your time. I hope you have a great day.”

“Wait…are you mad at Lavender? Did she do anything wrong?” the look in his eyes brings you to tears. Lavender’s father fears for his daughter’s life only because you came to visit them.

“Oh, no! I was just asking myself if we should take a break from our friendship. I’m quite busy with upcoming tasks and possible marriage. I hope Lavender won’t be mad.”

“What? No! She would never be mad at you. Lavender is your friend.”

“Of course, she is,” you nod in agreement. “A friend of mine will always be safe. Even if we cannot see each other for a long time. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Hi, Lavender,” you leave her a voicemail. You didn’t have it in you to face your friend, so you make it easier for you and her. “Listen, we were friends for so long but I kinda grew out of our friendship. We should give each other space. Uh-I mean you should spend more time with your family and your other friends. Stay safe and thank you for being a good friend.”

You end the call before she can hear you choke out a sob. “Another one,” you sigh deeply. Before you ended your friendship with Lavender, you called all of your friends.

Barnes was right. None of your so-called friends was a real friend. It didn’t take you long to find out that all of them are scared of your father and his men.

“What’s up, sweetness?” Jake pokes his head into your room. “What did you do with all the information I got for you?”

“Jensen, not now,” you throw your phone against the wall. “I’m not in the mood for one of your not-funny jokes.”

“Whoa, who fucked with you?” he asks. “Do you want me to send them a nice little virus?” Jake grins.

“No,” shaking your head you sigh deeply. “I just need a little me time.”

Jake silently closes your door. He is just another employee of your father. Not a friend nor an ally. You won’t make the mistake and trust anyone ever again.

“What are you doing?” you roll your eyes when your new nemesis, Bucky Barnes himself strolls toward you. “Oh, are you cold?”

He looks at the brazier, frowning as you throw pictures of your friends, trinkets, and plushies inside the fire.

“What do you want, Barnes?” he furrows his brows when you don’t even look at him. Usually, you’d hang on to his every word. “I’m kinda busy here.”

“I can see that.”

Bucky crouches down to look at the box you placed next to the brazier. It’s filled with all the memories you made with your friends. “Why are you burning that shit?”

“I’m cold,” you snap at him. “Can you leave me alone? Don’t you have a granny to rob or people to kill? Or whatever an important and all-grown man like you does.”

“Aw, are you having a little campfire on your own,” Bucky mocks you, but you don’t give a shit. “How about we get some marshmallows.”

“Fuck off.”

“Watch your tongue, my lovely bride,” he sneers as you finally look at him. “You made it. I got no other choice but to marry you. Your father made sure of it.”

“I don’t care anymore,” you crouch down to grab a handful of pictures to throw them into the fire. “Go and fuck some prissy little missy. You are not man enough for me anyways.”

“Not man enough?” he laughs darkly. “You wouldn’t survive our wedding night.”

“Because you are always dressed to kill?” you cock your head and look Bucky up and down. “Maybe you rejected me because you like your friend Steve more.”

“I can fuck whoever I want to. Men, women, both,” Bucky picks the box up and empties its inherits into the fire.

“What the fuck! That was my ritual. You cannot come here and ruin everything all over again. You’re such an asshole!”

“Well, no shit doll,” he growls back. “Remember, you asked for this. A little girl forcing a man like me into marriage; dumbest move ever.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“You wish I would, but I won’t,” Bucky snarls. “I will fuck my way through town while you will be waiting at home. You will be a nice little trophy wife, nothing else.”

“In your dreams,” pushing against Bucky’s chest you scream in frustration as he won’t budge. “My father will have your head if you dare to fuck with me.”

“He won’t,” he grins down at you while you slap his chest. “I agreed to become his new right-hand man to take over his empire one day.”

“No—I’ll take over his empire. I’m his legacy,” you stop hitting Bucky. “He can’t do this…he can’t. All my life I only did what he wanted. I never had real friends because they were afraid of him.”

You step away from Bucky, shaking in anger. “We will see, dollface…we will see…”

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[your-nanas-house]

Hi there! May I request a fic where Anthony Bridgerton’s wife gives him the silent treatment after an argument? Thank you! I love you 💖

Hello! Of course, this is my first fic with Anthony Bridgerton so sorry if it's bad. You're welcome! 💖

Silent Treatment

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X wife!Reader

Warnings: argument, angst, fluff

Words: 775

Summary: in the request

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

.................................................................

Everyone in the Bridgerton family knew by now well the personality of the eldest son, even the lucky lady who agreed to become his wife taking the title of Viscountess but that did not mean she tolerated it.

Her husband Anthony could be sweet, protective, a true gentleman but at the same time also competitive, annoying and stubborn; according to him everything was on his shoulders, which had been true since Edmund's (the father's) death, but there was no need to be so closed-minded and dedicated to work because if not you would become frustrated and exactly what happened one evening.

The newly married couple got along well, they loved each other and enjoyed each other's company but there were times when there were small quarrels that did not turn into something serious since Y/n's personality was able to let it be and calm the situation down before the situation  escalated but to everything there is a limit, even to the viscountess's patience.

It happened shortly after dinner, they had enjoyed a family meal and she had retreated to their bedroom, returning downstairs only when she realized that Anthony was still not joining her.

This was not expected, Anthony should not have let the comment slip from his mouth even if it was a confidential conversation with his siblings, but as one can well see from the considerable amount of children Violet Bridgerton had with Edmund Bridgerton, nothing remained a confidential conversation in that house; for that reason an argument also began that evening but it did not end as the Viscount expected because this time his wife's patience reached a limit and although they had moved to their rooms she refused to calm the situation and ignore again but answered in the same tone, letting out of her lips all the things she had been thinking and holding in for several months leaving Anthony silent for a few moments but still angry.

He had no chance to respond because as soon as Y/n finished screaming she grabbed a pillow and headed for another room, locking herself in there.

The Viscount wanted to follow her but realized that maybe it was better if he let her sleep wherever she preferred for that night since the next morning everything would be back to the way it was or so he thought.

The next morning there were no words exchanged between the two of them, Y/n just had breakfast with her husband's family while she ignored him completely refusing to talk to him, infuriating Anthony who followed her into the kitchen where she had moved and stopped his anger which turned to guilt when he saw her wiping away tears.

Apparently yesterday's words had hurt her more than the gentleman thought, it was not his intention and he did not really mean them rather he actually claimed the opposite but at that moment it had seemed right to say it to win the argument.

The silent treatment continued throughout the day, there were attempts by the viscount to try to apologize or talk to his wife but she continued with that punishment that caused Anthony to break down in the evening.

He needed to put things right as soon as possible, which is why he locked himself in his office and only came out when he was sure he had everything ready, after which he went to the rooms where his viscountess had decided to spend the night again and knocked on the door while waiting.

No one answered but he did not allow himself to be demoralized and began to recite the mediocre poem he had attempted to write in his office, waiting for a response, which there was as Y/n opened the door to the room shortly after, looking at him completely serious.

Anthony continued with his courtship for three more days before she gave in completely by forgiving him and going back to sleep in his arms at night, gladly accepting their first heir also as a way of proving to Anthony that she could be a great mother even though she might be childish at times, thus proving to him that his claim of the now-forgotten quarrel was completely false but Anthony didn't need to have proof to realize that.

He loved his Viscountess and would have done anything for her, even wooing her all week long despite the fact that they were already married, just to see that smile on her sweet lips or a giggle come out of her gorgeous mouth, her love-filled eyes directed only at him and her body asleep or awake in his arms.

.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher

[sorencd]

hii idk if u are taking request (if you're not ignore this lmao) but could you write some todd anderson fluff? my sister moved away and im feeling kinda sad :( idk if you write for todd either lol anyways love ur account!!

1:05

pairing: todd anderson x reader

summary: a silly little game of tickle fight with todd.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: ofc! <3 i was supposed to keep this short but i'm an absolute sucker for fluff so i went a little overboard hhfhhfhefdfr i hope u like it!

masterlist

it was starting to get repetitive. the few episodes you watched earlier were somewhat more entertaining, or shall you say as entertaining as watching a lawyer defend their client gets. there were moments where it really got you and todd riled up, but after that it'll just be another line of the guy on screen describing to you what a public defender is.

'the court is adjourned!' the voice of the guy on screen shouted as he banged his gavel on the wooden sound block, signalling that the aired episode was over.

"i'm starting to get sick of this bart matthew guy's face. how long have we been watching?" you asked, leaning your head further into todd's body until it was on his lap.

"i think it we started at season 1, we've been at it for a while." todd said as he reached for the remote controller, "do you want me to switch the channel, love?"

"okay, maybe that show my mom watches is on. the eve garden something?" you sat up and pondered with a hand on your chin. 

"it's eve arden, i've seen bits of it a few times."

you hastily laid back down and yawned as you shook your head in understanding, moving on your side to watch todd fiddle with the remote controller in search for a good show. sunday afternoons were usually like this, rather than going out and doing activities that would require human interaction, todd would instead show up at your front door to spend time with you, saving you both the time and effort of socialising─ which you knew todd preferred. for the next few hours, you'd both be huddled in bed or on the couch in each other's arms, reading each other silly poems and stories you'd make up, or watch tv until the sun goes down. to some it might be boring, yes, but nothing's boring when it's with todd.

"hey todd?"

he hummed as he moved his focus away from the television and onto you, who was staring up at him with an all too familiar look on your face. you were about to crack a bad joke.

"what is it called-"

"please make it a good joke this time."

"it is! i guarantee you that you'll laugh your knickers off!"

he once again hummed as he raised his eyebrows with a skeptical look, he knew the joke would be so stupid that it wasn't the joke he's laughing at─ but the sheer stupidity of it is what makes him snicker. he let's it slide though, since he gets to see that bright smile of yours every time. 

"alright so, what is it called when the doctor has to tickle you to see if you're conscious?"

todd shook his head, he has no idea what it could be. it could be anything! "i don't know, what?"

"a test tickle." you let out an obnoxious laugh with a slap to the knee as you cackled at your own joke. he on the other hand can't help but wonder where do you get all these jokes from? 

"that was a bad joke." 

"no it's not! i made you laugh, you're laughing right now!"

"you can hardly consider this laughing!"

an idea came to your mind as soon as the words left your lover's mouth. his face contorted in worry when he saw you move back a little on your side of the couch, and you had this... mischievous expression on. you were up to something.

"hmm... it wouldn't be laughing if i did this then?" you suddenly jumped onto him and started tickling his sides, earning yourself a loud snort from todd.

"w-wait- this isn't- this isn't fair!" his face was turning red with how hard he was laughing. you weren't prepared though when abruptly he flipped you on your back, effectively halting you of your attack and giving you a taste of your own medicine.

the only thing that could be heard in your living room was the sound of you and todd cackling like maniacs. to the people outside your house, they could've easily mistaken it as two children playing. in the middle of your tickle-fighting, todd tried to escape from your unforgiving grasp and tried to make a run from it. you attempted grabbing onto his torso to prevent him from leaving your clutches, but instead of successfully being able to pull him back─ you instead got a hold of his pajamas that he was wearing that day and pulled down. accidentally revealing what was he was wearing that day. in your terms he technically he did laugh his underwear off, except it was his pants.

"h-hey you can't do that!" todd stuttered as his laughed grew even louder. he scrambled to pull his pants back up and almost fell over in the process. your stomach was starting to hurt, and your eyes were welling with tears as you caught a glimpse of his boxers, he had the superman ones that you gave him as joke on his birthday on.

after he got a good distance between the two of you, and after he successfully pulled his pajamas back up, he calmed down to catch his breath which was ragged from all the laughing. you, who was on the couch, were lying on your stomach, you hushed snickers muffled by the couch as you watched him. the memory of his boxers that were now covered by his pants still lingering in your mind. 

to control your own breathing, since you were also out of breath, you momentarily closed your eyes with a tired smile on. you forgot how draining tickle fights were. "i must say, what manly boxers you have, mr. anderson." 

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was slowly creeping his way behind the couch on his tippy toes. it looks like the war wasn't over. when you didn't hear from him, you lifted your head up to check if he was still where you last saw him before you closed your eyes.

"todd?-"

suddenly, you felt something very heavy being pressed onto your entire body─ causing you to shriek in surprise. it was todd. he was laying on top of you with his arms wrapping your body, like he was giving you a bear hug. in that position, he could easily tickle both of your sides. making him the winner of today's tickle fight. and tickle you he did.

"t-todd- i-" you were being cut off by your own uncontrollable laughter, squirming and writhing in his embrace. "you win! you win!"

he instantly let go of you, his lips curled into a huge victorious grin as he sat there, towering over you triumphantly. his hair was all ruffled and he still looked like he just finished running a marathon. you smiled him, your entirety overflowing with happiness, and he shyly smiled back in return before cheering in a hushed manner and whisper shouting like he was an announcer on the sports channel.

"and the crowd goes wild! todd anderson takes home the trophy for today's match!" 

you giggled and swiftly wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“i will have my revenge, you!”

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[lauriquasar]

Always Forever

pairing; Chris sturniolo x fem!singer!french!character (doesn’t really matter the character is a singer or French it’s just mentioned once)

synopsis; Chris finds out his gf used to date one of their mutual friends and he has to make sure his gf prefers him

Authors note; this used to be a Nick fic but I thought that would flop so I made it a Chris one so I’m sorry if I didn’t fix it completely 😞

lowercase intended , not proof-read at all , x character , 940 words (my longest fic yet 😛)

"What’s an embarrassing crush story you have?”

Nick read the question from his phone. Him, his two brothers, Chris and Matt, and Chris’ girlfriend, Kassi, were answering questions from a q&a on instagram for a YouTube video.

“You know, I really think god put me on this earth to be a singer,”

Kassi started, but she was slightly interrupted by a fit of giggles from the triplets. She started again.

“Like when I was fourteen I wrote a series of poems for a boy I liked,”

The three boys whipped their heads around shocked at the boy.

“Wait, Who was it?”

“Did he like you back?”

Matt, the boy sitting in the drivers seat asked, interrupting Chris’ ‘who was it’ question, but Kassi seemed to ignore Matt’s.

“It was Carter,”

That answer surprised and slightly angered Chris, which was visible by the scrunch of his eyebrows. Carter was a friend of both of theirs, and Kassi was his girlfriend—neither of them had ever mentioned having had dated.

“Did he like you back?”

Matt repeated his question, still smiling from the shock and laughter he felt previously.

“…yeah,”

matt, nick, and Kassi irrupted into a fit of laughter, while Chris sat consumed in his own angry thoughts. once it died down, Chris began to speak.

“You never told me you dated Carter,”

“It never came up, and it doesn’t matter it was when we were like fourteen.”

Kassi chuckled again, justifying her action. Chris rolled his eyes and began to speak.

“Okay, usually when you date someone and you used to date one of their friends, you kind of have to tell them that,”

Chris said with sarcastic undertones.

“Okay, sorry? I didn’t think it was that serious it was for like three months when we were fourteen, babe.“

“Okay,okay! Let’s talk about something else— the next question is do you know any other languages?”

Nick, the boy in the back seat of the car interrupted the couple to brighten the mood.

“Okay well, three months is a long time to date someone and never tell anyone about it.”

Chris said while not looking at Kassi and sulking.

“Chris, are you serious? It was twelve weeks—“

“Kassi is French! Tell ‘em Kass,”

Matt mentions, as a second attempt to interrupt the couples argument but the car remains silent minus nicks stifled giggles.

“I’m barely French, my parents are American.”

The rest of the video was mildly awkward, Chris only entertaining conversations when Kassi wasn’t a part of them, and Nick and Matt became their own sense of comedy while Kassi and Chris sat miserably in in silence.

—

Kassi had to stay with the triplets as her friend, alex couldn’t pick her up until an hour—because he was busy. Kassi laid on Chris’ bed, scrolling on TikTok.

Chris walks in and sees Kassi on his bed and groans, but ignores her and walks over to his desk anyway.

“What, I’m not allowed to lay on my boyfriend’s bed because I slept with someone who wasn’t you?”

“You— you’re an idiot.”

Chris goes to ask what she meant by that, but he decides he doesn’t want to know and doesn’t want to speak to her. Kassi hops off Chris’ bed to confront him about the insult.

“Why are you so upset anyway? You usually let me call every man I see hot and sexy— why are you so mad I dated someone who wasn’t you?”

Chris looked down at Kassi and rolled his eyes for the thousandth time that night. He sighed and then began to explain.

“It’s just— Carter is so cool,”

“Not cooler than you.”

“Fuck off.”

Chris giggled at his girlfriend’s interruption. He started explaining again.

“Like he’s in college, he’s super good looking, and you’re super hot too and, I just feel like a downgrade. I already feel like when people see us together they’re like ‘what the hell is she doing with him’, so knowing you’ve dated that son of a bitch just makes that feeling worse.”

Chris felt his eyes well up with tears as Kassi grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in to a deep hug.

“Chris you’re so handsome, I would pick you over Carter a thousand times, even if I was a random person walking down the street. I love your eyes,”

Kassi pulled away and kissed nicks eye. Chris giggled and tried (not very hard because truly he didn’t want her to stop) to push her away.

“And I love you nose, and hair, and lips,”

Kassi began to kiss each of Chris’ features while Chris half-assed a plead for her to stop. She finally did (to Chris’ dismay) and they crawled to the head of Chris bed and held each other.

“Thank you baby, sorry I called you an idiot.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve been called worse.”

Chris chuckled. Kassi lifted her head from Chris’ chest and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“God—you’re so pretty,”

“Thanks.”

Chris smiled and planted a deep kiss on Kassi’s lips.

[itskindofidontknow]

What dreams know about love?

Chapter 4

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

TW: Explicit sexual content, lost of virginity, p in v, consent is here but pleasure is not.

"Don't you think it is too much?"

"Not at all, m’lady. It is your wedding, nothing is ever 'too much'." Eoster sheepishly smiled, pressing her hands against the white sheer corset that the Seamstress was adjusting. Her wedding dress. Long silk skirts covered by tulle made of stardust, reflecting the bright sunlight that entered through the windows. Looking at her reflection at the mirror, it seemed like Eoster was shining. Inside, she truly felt like she was. Shining, happy, excited “It’s all happening in such a hurry. Dear Desire, do you think I am rushing it?” She bit her lip. There has only been one year. Yes, their letters were full of passion and devotion for each other, and Love never felt such affection, but still, a year was so little. Rushed and desperate mortal’s relationships always ended badly… Shouldn’t she wait more?

Before that boring conference of universal manifestations, both were only distantly aware of each other's existence. Some dreams were heavily influenced by her works and some lovers were heavily influenced by their dreams. One could say that they were nothing but distant work colleagues. That night, however, thanks to Desire, they were both formally presented to each other.

Love did not take much of it, since she was in the middle of hiding from a group of extremely boring and arrogant suitors that wanted a place in her dance card. Desire was certain that being accompanied by Dream would keep away the suitors. Eoster was not sure of that, even though Lord Morpheus didn't have the friendliest of faces, definitely not an entity she would cross, some of her suitors couldn't, for their life, read the room. He didn't seem to care for Love either. Different from most, which Desire would later say in confidence, that he lost his words in presence of such a beauty, like Love’s. She did not believe in it. But she did think it could be true disinterest. After all, the Dream King could have any maiden he wanted, he didn’t need to court someone like Love.

In truth, Dream’s thoughts were in Calliope, wanting to return to her, and get away from the conference. He was also skeptical about Desire’s sudden approach and poor excuse of 'helping their friend dodge suitors'. Desire had no friends.

The brown haired queen didn’t think much about their meeting until a few weeks later when she received a dove, a letter written by Lord Morpheus himself, ddressed to her. Daily, Love received suitors’ doves. She kept them all, feeding her ego with those sweet words and praises. There were some terrible poems and sonnets, but she knew they were well-intended (Not all of them, some of them had sinful propositions that Love prefere to ignore). His letter, however, was different, it didn’t praise her beauty, or compared her to the stars, neither had any vulgar proposition. It was a simple apology regarding the unattentive way he treated her in the conference.

Love was afraid the Dream King would have the wrong impression if she responded. She knew she had to say something, but what exactly? She didn’t want to sound like he owed her an apology, but she also did not want to dismiss him, saying it was nothing. Unsure of how to proceed, Love went to Desire of the Endless, not only they were Dream younger sibling, they were one of her best friends and also someone who Love considered as the older sibling she never had.

The Love Queen adored working with Desire, it was not only easier but much more pleasing to see two souls being together in perfect harmony, tenderly hungry for each other, not only they had carnal lust but also affection and devotion. Desire also was a great friend, always helping her escape suitors, and entertain her afternoons, making her company in the Garden.

For Desire, it was more like having a puppy than a friend. The wide-eyed innocent persona of Love was something she considered fun to have around and mess with. It was amusing to see her blushing complexion with every dirty comment and prank, or pretending to know about topics they knew she had not the slightest idea whatwas about.

Desire was the one that encouraged her to respond in an affectionate way. ‘Believe me, little dove, my brother does not send letters to anyone’, they said. And Love started to wonder about Lord Morpheus intentions. She caught herself thinking about why they hadn't met before. How could she have gone without a proper introduction for so long? He was a gentleman, attractive, and dutiful. A suitor that she might actually consider, besides, they worked close. Love started to daydream about the projects they could do together, the wonders they might provide to mortals.

Waiting for his answer was pure agony. Love was starting to give up any hope, thinking he only was being polite since she was friends with Desire. But when a dove came with the Dreaming’s seal. Love was caught by a surprise relief she felt on her chest. She was longing for a response. The correspondence did not stop for over 365 days. Anxiously she waited for every dove, always thinking that he might grow tired of her.

The palace staff quickly learned that if their Queen was nowhere to be found, she would probably be hiding in her winter’s garden, sitting in the balcony, eyes lost in the pink sky's horizon, wishing for a dove with a letter. Lord Morpheus' letters made the difference between a melancholic and a blissful afternoon. Elijah could cancel any engagements Love had when his letters arrived, since she would spend the rest of the day, with the head in the clouds, trying to imagine what he was feeling when writing to her, if he was thinking about her reading his letter. She giggled alone and reread every sentence, trying to imagine all he described, wondering if one day she might be invited to his realm. If he wrote fifty pages of letters, it wouldn’t be enough.

Eoster fell deeply in love. His letters flooded her senses, filled her nights and brightened her days. They developed some distant companionship, and Love never felt a connection quite the same. During this time, every mortal felt love in a newfound intensity, their creativity sprouted, the kisses were tender, the embraces longer, the partitude hurted more than a knife through the heart. The Garden flourished in plenitude, the flowers were vibrant, the grass greener and softer, the air was warm with light breezes. She never received so many young ladies and lords in waiting, she gladly taught about the ways of the heart. And when he proposed, Love had to contain herself otherwise mortals would probably explode of infatuation.

Desire looked back to her with a cheshire smile, seeing all those questions going through their friend’s head. They langley raised from Love’s bed and walked to the young maiden hugging her from behind. “Never, my darling. Look at you, look at your Garden. Both blossoming in happiness. Such happiness cannot be misleading. Besides, he was the one that called for a True Marriage.” Love squeezed Desire’s hand while taking a deep breath.

A True Marriage. The oldest type of union, and one of the rarest. If one is not sure of their love, they would never call for one. All the other ordinary unions are annulled by a True Marriage, nothing is above it. An unbreakable bond, written in golden permanent ink in Lord Destiny’s book. Unchangeable, no matter what the circumstances, twist and turns, or paths one chooses. It’s more than just a ceremony or names on a piece of paper, it’s an exchange of souls and hearts. One holds the life of the other, and gives its own life in exchange. The vows of a True Marriage are not to be taken lightly.

The only way to terminate a True Marriage is by terminating life. And when one half dies, part of the soul and the heart of the other half also dies. If Morpheus wanted to marry her under these ancient laws, he was as certain of his feelings as she was of hers.

The Seamstress pushed Desire out of the way, getting on her knees to finish the hem of the dress. “Don’t stay in the way if you don’t want to get pushed, m’lady-lord”. Desire rolled her eyes at the old woman. If one of Love’s cupid had done this to an Endless it would be considered a serious offense, but The Seamstress didn’t belong to any realm, she didn’t go by any set of hierarchy, she was old, how old Love didn’t know, but she had more wrinkles than anyone could count, along with a sharp tongue. “There you go, m’lady. All is done.”

The old woman gave Love’s waist two friendly taps, before getting up proudly looking at her creation. “My queen, I can’t say that I know the King of Dreams, but I know about wedding dresses.” The seamstress has been designing and sewing them for eons “And if our Lord Morpheus does not put a stained glass window of you in his palace. He is a fool.“ Desire and Love looked at each other, before laughing. And Love jumped and pulled the Seamstress into a hug. “Oh Seamstress! I promise, as Queen of Love, that if we decided for a wedding party, you shall have a invitation, you’ll be my guest of honor” The old lady was thrown off by the sudden movement, but welcomed the hug the Queen gave, and throw her hands in the air dismissing the invite. “I thank you for the invitation m’lady, but I sew, I don’t go to parties.”

Two knocks came from the door before Elijah popped his head in the room. “Excuse me, blessing from the Garden, Seamstress and Lady-Lord Desire.” He politely acknowledged the two others in the room before addressing Love “My Queen, it’s time.”

She said her goodbyes to the Seamstress, who remembered her that all her nuptial nightgowns were already sent to the Dreaming, and to Desire, who promised her a visit after the honeymoon, which made Love said wouldn’t be necessary, she could visit her in the next day, to which Desire whispered smiling into her ear “Darling, darling, trust me, you will not want to leave your room” Love gasped over her friend answer, but rolled her eyes. Desire was always full of little games to make her anxious.

Elijah spent the last entire week trying to learn everything he could to prepare for a True Wedding. There wasn’t much literature available and the whole ceremony was kind of a mystery. All he gathered was that both Lady Eoster and Lord Morpheus would be invited to Destiny's realm, where it would happen. No guests, no celebrations, just the two of them. Elijah really wished Lord Destiny would allow at least one witness (preferable one cupid, more specifically, him) to accompany Lady Love. After all, the King of Dreams was his sibling, but Lady Love was going on her own. “I am not on my own, my dear cupid. Soon Lord Morpheus will be my husband, and Lord Destiny, my brother-in-law. '' She pointed it out to Elijah. “Yes, my Queen of course, but Lord Destiny is already Lord Morpheus’ brother, by blood” Love stopped in the middle of the pink marble corridor, trying to calm her cupid down. She knew he only meant the best, but the rules were the rules, and she did not want to upset Lord Destiny, even before becoming his in-law. “ Lord Destiny will not be there as Lord Morpheus’ brother, he is the only one that can seal a True Marriage. Please, worry not, my cupid. All is well.” She reached for his hand, squeezing it, before looking in his doubtful eyes.

“Take some time to rest, after all, when we get back, you will also have the Prince of Stories to worry about.” Love tried to lighten the mood, she could not have her own worries and Elijah’s, hers was already overwhelming. “I will be glad to be able to worry for my ladyship and lordship.” He smiled before she asked to enter the Garden of Forking Ways.

Mist covered her eyes, Love squeezed her eyes trying to get a better view of her way. There was only silence, she tried to understand if she was inside the palace or in the actual gardens, since the mist was so dense, she couldn’t see the palm of her hands.

Naturally, she jumped when the deep voice of her host cut through the silence, echoing "Welcome, Queen Eoster, Lady of the Four Loves, Princess of Springs, and Ruler of the Garden of Lovers." As stoic as Love remembered. She made a deep bow "Lord Destiny of the Endless, blessings from the Garden, it's an honor to be accepted in your realm" she couldn’t tell if he heard her, until following a long silence, he said it "Follow me".

Love did as she was told, as she kept walking, her vision adjusted to her surroundings and she realized she was walking in the hallways through his empty palace. Light was getting more scarce, and when he opened a door to a room and made way for her to come inside, there was no light at all, only darkness. If she squeezed her eyes she could see some sparkle of her dress, she questioned herself if Morpheus would be able to see it as well. Maybe she did overdo it. "Lovers, offer your hands to one another" Her heart beating fast, within the silence, Love was certain Lord Destiny would hear it.

She hesitated for a moment. "The eyes do not need to see what the heart already is familiar with." Destiny answered her question before Love could even vocalize it. She offered her open hand to the void in front of her, she felt a cold palm under her hand. As they touched, Destiny continued. "Bonded by life. Terminated by death. Remember spouses, golden ink will tell your tales, but if red ink stained your pages, half of your spirit is the price to be paid.”

Feeling his cold hands against hers, brought Love some relief. Although the lady of springs was certain he was going to be there, to have this assurance, to actually feel him, was something else. They were pen pals turned to pen lovers, but never actually met, until today. It was unusual, but Lord Morpheus said it, and Lady Love agreed that longing made the heart grow stronger. And the bond that they developed, some couples spent eternity failing to build it. Now, they would have the whole eternity to make their longing for each other, worth it.

"If your hearts are true to your feelings, you may now say the sacred vows" Destiny said, his voice sounding permanent as their vows would be.

The beautiful and eternal vows. Dangerous for the weak of flesh and heart. Once they said it, there was no return from it. Love could feel the air thickening, her mouth was dry and she could feel the cold sweat in her hands. Maybe it was the pressure of it all, maybe it was the power of the old rite manifesting along them. She squeezed her fiance’s hands. ‘Give me strength, my love’ she thought, wishing Morpheus could read her mind.

“One soul. One heart. One life. As you are mine and I am yours. I embrace your darkness and worship your light. By the laws written in the Book Before Time, I concede to you my life and devotedly take yours, for I have no essence, no will, no present, past or future if not yours.”

The dense air was suffocating, she could smell blood and iron mixed. Ancient powers. Her head and feet felt light. It was difficult to breathe. She was doing everything she could to keep concentrating “Why can’t I hear him?” Love asked breathlessly, her chest burning. Destiny took, what seemed to be hours to answer “The ears do not need to hear what the heart already knows.” She weakly nodded “Hold onto your loved one, burden him with the weight of the soul, give your regrets, your happiness, your…” She tried to obey, focusing on the instructions, concentrating on what to do, but Destiny's voice drifted away, like she was under deep water drowning trying to hear him speak. Until she didn’t.

When Love returned to herself, the air was no longer thick, nor was it difficult to breathe. The darkness was still there, but that, she realized, was due to her closed eyes. And when she opened them, jumping afraid she might have somehow slept through her own wedding, she fell into the ground. What an embarrassment! Quickly she tried to get up, but her legs failed and her palms got sored from the impact. Her thoughts were only in getting up fast, before Destiny noticed, before Morpheus noticed. How could she do such a thing in front of her husband and her brother in law? She squinted her eyes trying to adjust to the light. ‘Light?’. There was no light. Before, there wasn’t. She blinked. Now, It was too bright. This…Where was she?

Love looked up, facing the surface she felt from. A bed. A room, she was in a room. And It wasn’t Destiny’s realm. Neither it was hers or Desire’s. She supported her elbows in the mattress, raising herself, throwing her body against satin black sheets. It smelt different. She looked to the narrow tall windows from where she could see the grayish skies. Looking around the room, it was a bedroom, but there wasn’t much furniture. A nightstand, a dresser, a tri-fold standing mirror, and the bed.

Love was still in her wedding dress. Her head hurted trying to remember what happened. One minute she was holding hands with her future husband, saying vows…the other. “ My Lady, you are awake” A strange lady entered the bedroom. She didn’t hear her knock. “I am Lucienne, my lady, Lord Morpheus’ librarian '' Love turned her face to the woman. “Lord Morpheus brought you to The Dreaming. A True Marriage can be quite overwhelming.” If she didn’t have bigger concerns, Love would’ve thought that the lady was terrible at small talk. But she was still confused “ You fainted, right after your vows and…Lord Morpheus brought you to the Dreaming. Where you are, right now”. The dark skinned woman explained, as the Queen frowned, raising her body from the covers, and even though she was feeling dizzy, she kept herself sitting. The Dreaming.

His realm. Their realm.

“Here my lady.” The woman gave a cup of a red liquid to her. Love had no idea what it was, but its warm and floral smell was convincing enough to make her take a few sips. Her throat was dry. “Where is he?” Love said before clearing her throat. Her cloudy thoughts started to clear and panic grew inside her “ Is he worried? Please you must tell him that I am well.” Lucienne frowned, taking a few seconds to observe the woman in front of her. From what Lord Morpheus told her, Lucienne imagined an unapologetic seductress, evil grin without an ounce of remorse, very similar to his sibling Desire.

Instead, the Queen was a young woman with lily white skin, green puffy eyes full of worry and the voice hinted with panic. She looked full of innocence, worry and beauty. It was not even a compliment to say it, it was more of a fact “He is well, my Lady. “. It also made a bitter sense to the librarian, on why her king wishes to see her in person in his room, instead of just banishing her forever. He would not let an ambush like this go unpunished.

Morpheus was fine. Furious yes, but well, in terms of physical integrity. He thought Calliope had called for a True Marriage. Not Lady Love. In fact, he only met the queen on one occasion, and she was with his sibling. Probably when they decided to trap him in misery. Lucienne hated that her lord had put her, of all his creations, to deal with his wife. She was not cut for this. Especially when they seemed more lost than mischievous.

“Lord Morpheus sent me to see if you were already awake. I did also send a raven to inform the lovefolk about your whereabouts. I didn’t mention your state, as I didn’t want to worry them. I hope I didn’t step out of my place“ The woman lowered her head in respect. Love was quickly to leave the tea in the nightstand before reaching the librarian’s hand and pulling her into a tight hug “Oh dear Lucienne, you have my eternal gratefulness!” The librarian froze in shock with the sudden and expansive reaction. Love broke their hug only to look into her eyes “Elijah would probably be banging on this door if you had told him.” She jokingly said with a smile. The librarian gave out a sympathetic smile, before darting her gaze uncomfortably.

“Yes? My dear, is there anything else? I hope nothing happened to Lord Morpheus. I surely hoped that I didn’t embarrass him.” Eoster could see the distressed look in the librarian’s face. Love would never forgive herself if anything had happened to her husband. “No, my Lady, Lord Morpheus is fine. He wishes to… see you.” Love followed The librarian’s eyes to the other side of the bed. One of her nuptials gowns perfectly extended. “It arrived early, my lady. I believe Lord Morpheus, want you to…” She left the sentence unfinished, hopeful that the queen would understand.

Eoster opened another smile, face brightening, laughing as she grabbed the fabric and jumped out of the bed, dancing with the fabric, stumbling in her wedding dress.

Lucienne tried to reach for the queen to avoid an accident, but the lady was fast, crossing the bedroom in front of the mirror, trying to undo the tight laces in her back. It didn’t even feel like a few moments ago, she was passed out in the bed. “Lucienn, please help me undress. One should never make a husband wait for the nuptials” As they undid the laces in the back, and got Eoster out of her underskirts, the Queen couldn’t stop talking, which was very different from what the librarian was used to. Dizzy, Lucienne only nodded and gave polite smiles, thank goodness the brown haired maiden didn't expect answers. She was affectionate, talkative, and exceedingly happy. It didn’t match what one would expect of someone who scammed others into marriage. It matched what Lucienne expected of a young maiden absolutely infatuated by her husband, anxious for her wedding night.

Lucienne didn’t know how to feel. Lord Morpheus said she should be careful with Love, but Lady Love was swirling in the corridors, giggling, holding Lucienne by the arm as they were the best of friends, and taking every opportunity at a reflection surface to fix her hair, or her nightgown while walking from her quartels to meet her husband. Love took a deep breath as Lucienne knocked in the door, and gave a final smile and a squeeze in the hand, as the librarian opened the door and Lady Love closed.

Something wasn’t right. That woman was not an evil seductress that had her fun tricking the prince of stories, someone who enjoys playing hurtful games so he could never be truly happily married to his muse. In truth, Lucienne never saw anyone more transparent, guiltless and pure than Lady Love. In fact, she looked like the perfect fit for being misled.

As the door closed and Eoster saw Morpheus, hands in his back, with his usual black attire, happiness filled her heart. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck, pressing a soft chaste kiss in his lips. She waited a few seconds, but he didn’t respond. Neither did he embrace her. Embarrassingly, Love untangled her arms, letting her hand slide through his chest. Morpheus gave such a cold look at her hands that she quickly dropped them to her sides, entangling her fingers, giving a embarrassed small laugh “Pardon me, my lord husband for keeping you waiting”, She offered a small courtesy, thinking that probably he was displeased with her delay. Also giving his queue, to tell her to drop the formalities as they were husband and wife in the purest form. But he didn’t.

They stayed silent for what seemed hours. Morpheus waited for Love to admit what she did, to drop the maiden-in-love act, to take the blame. But she kept stupidly looking at him, he was tense, taking every fiber of himself to not oblige her to admit her sins. He knew Desire and their likes weren’t ever gonna repent, but to keep the act? Why? Why continue this farce? Why prolong his misery? Wasn’t forbid him to take his muse, his true love, as his wife, as the true queen of the Dreaming, enough? ‘Brother, why the long face? You were always moping around about your tragic romances and Eoster was infatuated by you. I only gave her a helping hand. Attending to one’s true desire. Performing my duty. And knowing Love, she will be more than eager to please you’ Morpheus could almost hear Desire’s purring voice from early, when he saw who his bride was and went to his sibling's realm to get some answers on this madness.

He wished to forget that his sibling was family. He wished to cut their throat and spill blood and not care by the mayhem within it.

He turned away from the maiden, walking to the bed. She and Desire came up with this, didn’t they? If Eoster wanted to forcefully be his wife, engaging in treacherous schemes without caring for his feelings in the first place, he wouldn’t care for hers. He couldn’t. How can she call herself the Lady of Love, if she doesn’t respect the love of others, putting her desires in first place?

Eoster followed with her eyes, his way near the bed, as he took his coat off. Her cheeks started to burn, and a sudden fear grow in her stomach. She avoided looking at him, trying to memorize their bedroom. It didn’t have anything special. Narrow tall windows, that let the greyish lights enter the room, it had no dresser, nor tri fold mirror. Love started to realize that Lord Morpheus’s palace was very minimalistic. He would probably be overwhelmed by the amount of art and decoration the bedrooms the Garden had.

Love kept distracting her with decoration thoughts to avoid the uneasiness that was starting to grow in her stomach. Morpheus was…different, from his letters. In them, he was infatuated to say the least, but now, he was cold. He barely acknowledged her, and was already unfastening his belt.

They never talked about carnal unions in their exchanges, the subject felt too intimate to discuss over letters, but she dreamed about being in his arms, heat reaching her core through her inner thighs, hot kisses spread along her curves, Dream molding her for him only and only him. Just like the most lustful and devoted mortals. And she knew he thought of her too, his letters gave hints, but never were explicit.

Love kept herself untouched for her true love. For him. And now, the queen was having second doubts, as he was treating it less like a sacred union and more like an obligation. As he was only expecting her, so they could get over it. “My Lord, I-” Love started to say, when he interrupted her “Lay down.” He looked over his shoulder, indicating the bed. The brunette took a deep breath fearfully looking at the mattress, covered in black satin sheets. She slowly walked to the edge, sitting while smoothing her long white satin nightgown, looking down at the lace pattern in her mid thigh, drawing with her fingers, feeling her cheeks and chest burned in apprehension.

“Lay down.” He said in a low impatient voice. She raised her head as he repeated, he was still fully dressed. She knew what was going to happen and searched her husband’s eyes, looking for some sympathy, some kindness, to embrace her and soothe the fears away, but instead she found his deep blue pupils, those everyone used to say you can see the whole universe, and saw nothing.

There was nothing there for her. He was acting as it was nothing for him. As she was nothing. He was about to take his wife's virginity, to make her entirely and only his. She didn’t know how to question him or how to tell him she did not want them to perform a martial duty, she wanted them to make love.

Lost without words, and feeling his annoyance, she did as told, laying on her back, curls spread in the mattress while she stared at the dark ceiling, knees strongly closed together. “Lady wife” Love raised herself hopefully for some remnant of the man she got to know through the letters. It didn’t go unnoticed that he kept the formal titles between them, but at least he was talking to her. “Are you untouched?”

She felt her face burning. Straightforward. Her husband was very straightforward. She barely nodded her head, feeling somewhat of embarrassment. Love knew it was pathetic to feel embarrassed of something her husband would soon discover, but at the same time, this Morpheus, made her feel like a stupid child.

He took a few seconds, processing the information. “ Waiting for true love, Lord husband”. She hesitantly said it, shrugging it off. It seemed sacred once, but now, it sounded silly. Still she looked hopeful to him, opening a sweet smile as he got close. “This won’t be good for you”. Her smile dropped, It was the last thing he said before grabbing her by the waist pulling her toward him. Eoster let out a surprised gasp. Her head hitted the mattress as she slid in his direction.

Love glanced at her husband, starting to pant, her thoughts scrambled in a pool of hysteria, panic grew into her as she heard the sound of pants being unfastened. Love kept waiting for him with her knees on her chest, as he wasn’t holding her. She lowered her eyes to see why was he taking so long, and caught him stroking himself. “Husband, I can-” She started to offer, when Morpheus let out a frustrated groan, cursing as he turned to look at his wife that resembled a frightened dove, she looked down to the mattress.

He grunted before reaching to the hem of her nightgown, ripping the thin fabric, exposing her all to him. Surprised, Love automatically covered her breasts. Morpheus took her hands out of the way, and she stayed bare under his gaze, hands to her side. He couldn’t deny, she was beautiful. Long silky legs that were going to be his to grab, small pink breasts with hard nipples that desperately wanted to be touched, pink full lips that could scream his name, and beg for him to do sinful things to her. Desire said that Love would be eager to please him, she would probably do as he told her, he could have her anywhere, anytime. His cock twitched at the thought and he stroked it faster, throwing his head back. But wasn’t really Lady Love he imagined doing ungodly things with. It was really Calliope. Love was only there to perform the duty she desperately wanted.

Her husband went back to stroking himself in a pace he seemed to like, squeezing his eyes shut. Love couldn't possibly be more embarrassed. He wasn’t even looking at her, and she didn’t understand why. Was she not what he expected?

Love turned her face away, pressing against the mattress, holding a sob in her throat, and closing her eyes, shivering feeling cold without anything to cover, she didn’t realize how cold the bedrooms could be. She opened her eyes when she felt her husband positioning himself upon her, supporting his elbows on the sides of her head, spreading her uncooperative knees apart. He was still semi-dressed, only his erection exposed, she felt the tip against her folds, as he slowly teases her slit. She could feel her insided clench in anticipation. She was too nervous, swallowing hard and looking at him in desperation. She wasn’t ready.

She knew she needed to be ready, her body was shivering and without even realizing she was gasping scared "Please my lord be gen-" She begged breathless, right before he thrusted deep into her, ignoring the wimps and the way her body tried to squirm away, as he hold her down in place. Love throwed her head back, feeling him stretch her insides. Tears reached her eyes. He didn't give Love anytime to adjust, sliding down and pounding deep into her again. “Pl-please husband” He kept a slow but deep pace, ignoring her loud cries. It wasn’t only unpleasant, it was a burning pain.

Nothing felt as it should feel. She knew her husband was right, it wasn’t going to be good for her. First times usually weren’t. But there were ways to make it more pleasant. Her husband did not seem interested in them. Love knew Morpheus was almost as old as his sister Death, he knew ways to make it better. He just didn’t want to make it pleasant for Eoster.

Tears started flowing down her cheeks. Her arms reached for embracing him, but Dream took both of her wrists, putting them above her head. The grip was firm, too strong, it would leave a mark. "Did you not want to be my queen? " He spitefully whispered into her ear, he didn’t bother looking at her. “Then you take it like a queen.” As his pace grew faster, he took her knee up his shoulder giving him more access to her. She turned her face away pressing against the bed, tears overflowing her eyes, making the vision hazy, her body felt numb, moving with his shoves, sometimes a wimp leaving her lips. Her head felt dizzy, even worse than before.

Morpheus didn’t take long. He spilled his seed inside her, as Love felt him going soft against her. He deflowered her. She was his. Their marriage consummated. And still, Love felt worse than she ever felt. The happiest night of her life and she felt used and dirty, like a courtesan. As he slided out of her, the queen stayed a few seconds in the same position. She didn’t want to move, afraid it would all make it real. She tried to think about how she felt earlier. It seemed like centuries, even if it was a few moments ago, she could not bring herself to feel like before. “Cover yourself, wife” He said as she heard him dress again. "Are you not staying? " Love turned her head to look at him.'' He didn't answer. Something did happen. Something she did. It must be, they got married, he hold her hand, he brought her to the Dreaming. She did something to ruin it. She must have done it.

The Queen reached for the sheets, wrapping herself onto them "Hum, my lord, did I do something wrong? Did I displease you in any matter? Because I can do better, I will learn to please you." He was on the other side of the bedroom, she went to him trying to grab his hand, to beg him for an explanation, any explanation " Please, why are you treating me like this? Why did you change? The let" He snapped his hand out of her, angrily getting closer, staying inches from his wife. "Spare me, wife, of your innocent act! Do you take me for a fool? " His voice hatefully roared to the whole room, and she flinched scared, he didn’t hit her, but sounded furious. She never thought the man who wrote her all those love letters would ever hit her. The man of the letters would also never disgrace her like he did. And still, here they are.

Morpheus took a deep breath, recomposing to his cold self. "I am finished with you. You may now return to your quarters. " Returned to her…These were her quarters! They were husband and wife, they shared a bed! " But I am your wife! " She screamed back, appealing to reasoning. "Indeed, you are, you made sure of it, didn’t you?.” Love looked confused, why was he saying those things?What was the meaning of them? “I pray you tell me husband, I know I can be naive sometimes, but I will do my best to understand, please, where is this coming from?” Morpheus couldn’t believe it. She wanted him to humiliate himself, to admit he falled into a trap, that she and Desire deceive him. He would not let her have this taste.“As my wife you shall do as you are told" She tearfully looked at him “Husband, please, I-” Abruptly he interrupted her, with a tone above the regular “Must I repeat myself?”. She fell silent. Walking past him, she still faced him, one last time, her green eyes asking for forgiveness, even though she didn’t comprehend what she did wrong. He took a glance at het, before turning away. She was still wrapped in the same sheets, as he opened the door, and slammed it closed right behind her.

Love leaned against the door, as she took her breath, before another lump began forming in her throat and she started crying. She did not want to cry in front of him, but she couldn’t contain the tears nor the sobs. Her knees felt weak, still feeling sore, something wet dripping from her, she couldn’t tell if it was his seed or her blood. Used and discarded. She slided against the door onto the ground, not able to support herself. Inside Morpheus could hear his wife crying, but he was not convinced by her act.

It was Lucienne, who heard the lady sobbing and went to her aid. She had received orders to not help her, however, and she thought that when Lord Morpheus reflected upon the subject, he would also agree, she couldn’t let the Queen of the Dreaming, undignified, wrapped in sheets, crying against the door of her husband, like a common whore. She guided the Lady back to the quarters, Lady Love didn’t even know where to find. The librarian helped the queen get into her bed, and offered to send someone to prepare her a warm bath, but she refused. The librarian couldn’t help but noticed the blood stains in the covers Eoster was wrapped. She didn’t want to condemn Lord Morpheus, but…

“ Lucienne?” Her queen whispered, as she grabbed the hand of the librarian that finished tucking her in. “Yes, my queen?” ‘My Queen’, she never expected to be Queen of anyone other than the lovefolk. “ Can’t you stay with me? Lord Morpheus he… I never sleep alone.” The look on her queen’s eyes almost broke Lucienne’s heart.

In a platonic and innocent way, Love’s ladies and lord in waiting were often sharing her bed. It was a common practice in the Garden to have close friends, sleep in the same bed. Truthfully, the only scenario where friends did not share a bed, was when one of them was to receive a lover. Then privacy was expected. “ I’m afraid I can’t, my lady. I’m sorry” Love whimpered while holding her hand. “Please, I am alone.” Lucienne could not stay. She was already disobeying explicit orders, and Lord Morpheus was not in the mood to have his limits tested. “My Queen, try to rest, please.” Against Eoster wishes, the Librarian gave her a sorrowful smile, slowly freeing from the delicate hold of Lady Love, her hand felt soft in the mattress, as she had no more strength. Lucienne couldn't think of any words that would ease her pain, so she left.

In a strange room, on her wedding night, alone. Love realized Dream did not even see her wedding dress. The Seamstress in all the eons of knowledge was wrong. It would never have a stained glass with her image in the Dreaming.

The Lady of Love then turned to her side, doing the only activity she found herself doing in the Dreaming: Crying.

@littlemoistcarrot

@lokigirlszendaya

[kurimiaki]

Primrose + narcissus + honeysuckle for Lilia?

love your writing; your prose has this poem like feel to it, making the dread you tend to build even more potent when it pays off at the end

eheheheheheehehehheeh you’re so sweet, thank you for your kind words!

flower prompt list is courtesy of ddarker-dreams

tw: yandere, forced child rearing + marriage, kidnapping

Primrose - In the yandere’s ideal world, what would their relationship with their darling be like? 

He wants to share eternity with you. Lilia quickly comes to learn that he’ll never tire of your company— he never bores of your smile, your every minute expression and reaction. He loves it all. A human’s lifespan is remarkably short, and his time seems to progress uncomfortably fast when he spends it with you. For as much as Lilia pokes and prods and relentlessly teases you, he loves you, and with this realization comes chilling desperation. A feeling he doesn’t immediately mark as fear, but as he watches the months and years flit by, with you only continuing to mature, he wants nothing more than to stop the passage of time.

And you’d be a fool to think he can’t. If Lilia does not already have the means to guarantee your immortality, he’s hell-bent on finding it. At this point, it shouldn’t be surprising how little regard he has for your autonomy, but for a decision this extreme, anyone would hope to be consulted. He might give you a cursory glance, feeling a small urge to mention the spell of eternal youth he’s attempting to cast, but squashes it. You likely won’t even know what he’s done until the people around you start to fade with age, you remaining stuck in the never-ending limbo of youth. It’ll hurt, and you’ll hate him for it, but at the very least, he assures you, Lilia will never leave.

Narcissus - Does this yandere prefer to infiltrate their darling’s life, or do they prefer to take their darling away? 

Lilia has no qualms in waiting for you to break, so initially, he’ll just take to pestering after you in your daily routine. If not at Night Raven College, then about your community he’ll linger, appearing unprompted at your residence or place of work. He’ll ignore whatever protests your family or friends might have, selfishly snatching you away and monopolizing your attention. He doesn’t care for the importance of what you were doing prior to his appearance. Lilia’s likely to drag you off to some secluded area, whether it be a small glade or library nook, placing himself in your lap (or vice-verse) and napping/endlessly chatting your ear off. It’s no matter if you don’t reply or reciprocate to his whining attention, Lilia will lovingly consume both your silent loathing and adoration. Anything you could possibly give him is perfection.

But it takes a great deal of effort to visit you, you know? He’s an important figure to Briar Valley, and though Malleus is a grown boy now, he’s not without the occasional lapse of immaturity. A seasoned ruler must first be guided with a firm hand— he needs Lilia’s presence, and so do many others. Ultimately, Lilia will whisk you away from all you know and to his kingdom, not giving you a moment to gather yourself. Unless by some divine intervention, you’re not likely to return. And if you’re ever to escape from him, know that it won’t last longer than he allows it to.

He watches you through some sort of magical channel, probably through the eyes of a familiar that you won’t clock as suspicious. Magic is such a helpful little thing. A crow, maybe, one that brings little trinkets to your windowsill, buttons and spare change and mice bones. A bit of a nuisance, but you’re accustomed to it. This is the only reason he’s initially so lax in leaving you with your freedom- what could you possibly hide from him? You may spend months planning an escape attempt in-between his visits, hoping to flee from your home and to some foreign nation. He’ll never find you there, you’re certain.

But the nearer you get to the day your carriage is meant to arrive, the more dubious and cryptic Lilia’s little snotty asides will become. And perhaps one day, when he’s got his head in your lap and your hands combing through his hair, Lilia will present to you your one-way ticket to Scalding Sands, a childish frown on his lips. You should just tell me if you want to go on vacation, he’ll cheekily tut, biting back a smile at your expression of dread, it’s not safe for you to go all alone.

Honeysuckle - Would this yandere prefer to “tie-down” their darling through marriage or having/adopting kids? 

He feels no overwhelming urge to tie you down, so if marriage was to be considered, it would not be out of desperation for your compliance. Your resistance is something he rather adores. Lilia wouldn’t even view marriage it as a particularly effective means to chain you to him, but he’d be lying to say there was no appeal in you taking on the Vanrouge name. He appreciates tradition, and what a grandiose event it would be for him to take you, in sickness and in health. Such a ceremony would surely last for days. And even more than to follow the conventional, he may marry you as a way to shield you from the scrutiny of the public eye. Although Lilia ultimately considers you to be his toy, a sort of pet, he wouldn’t take kindly to others viewing you in the same degrading manner. Such things are reserved for Lilia alone. An official bond would spare you this criticism, so he thinks.

I do believe that he would entertain the thought of giving you a child. Quite often. I want at least five, or so he once teased you, but it didn’t feel like much of a joke. Quite the opposite— in regards to raising some rugrats with you, Lilia is eerily serious. It goes without saying that he considers you a member of Malleus’ family, ragtag as it is, but it’s not as if you helped to raise the young prince and his guard. Below the surface, you’re mere acquaintances, and Lilia would prefer to cultivate a genuine family with you at his side.

While he is an inherently selfish and pleasure-seeking creature, Lilia did not assume the role of Malleus’ father figure as a mere means to entertain himself. There was an expectation of him to groom the young prince into a polished ruler, yes, and while he followed true to that, Lilia cares for him as if they share a blood relation. He does not take the duty of child-rearing lightly. So, if you were truly resistant to the idea of raising a kid with him, biologically or otherwise, Lilia would not force it upon you.

But not necessarily out of respect for your wishes.

It all boils down to a waiting game, really. Lilia is not one to deprive himself of his desires, and he’s quite confident that, in due time, he’ll get what he wants. Especially when it comes to you. (The image of you, domestic and doting over a child, excites him more than he can say.) Eternity is quite a long time, and no grudge lasts forever. Be it five years or a thousand, you’re sure to mature with the passing of time. And when Lilia deems you tame enough to care of children, meaning you reciprocate even an inkling of his love, only then will he force this upon you.

He’s a cradle robber, tried and true. Lilia will come to you with a small bundle in his arms, a beaming, toothy grin stretched on his lips as he provides you a cooing newborn. You’ll find a fully prepared nursery in some castle wing you’d never even heard of, and not with just one bassinet.

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul- Cillian Murphy (Prologue)

LATS Master list

⚠️ Grief

Pairing Cillian with OC

Summary: At forty four years old, anyone would think you have your life figured out, right? Well, life has some funny -or cruel- ways sometimes… Overnight widowed with two sons at the not-teenagers-anymore, nor-adults-yet phase, Cillian Murphy is forced to start everything all over again. Asking for a sign that it’s the right time to go back into work, he comes across the woman his best friend and screenplay writer and himself had been searching for so long to take the leading role in a play that had been waiting for her as well.

Behind the scenes: This story started as a dream, I literally dreamed one night the end of the play and started from there. Please note I’m not involved in theater 🎭 also, I’ll be adding some songs and lyrics (in italics) I think that fits the story (if you fancy sending some recommendations I’m more than happy to hear!) -Yes, the name is just like my blog… because that’s why I started this, the very first story I wrote, with this play in mind 💖🍀

Suggested song: “Show me the meaning of being lonely” Backstreet Boys (I ♥️ this acoustic version)

“Just leave it, really doesn’t matter.” He asked frustrated after ruining dinner.

“Let me take care of this sweetheart.” His mother ignored his petition and started to fix it.

“Where do you keep the toilet paper? There’s nothing in the bathroom.” His sister asked from the hall.

“I don’t know.” He shuddered. “In the cabinet probably.”

“Already looked there C.” She was trying not to roll her eyes, Cillian just raised his shoulders.

Looking around, he found his other sister picking up the dirty dishes he left over the couch along with the mug he was sure he used last week. Moving everything to the dishwasher, she then walked around the living room picking up the sweatshirt he probably used days ago. Between the cushions, she found a pair of socks and the glass of water he left on Saturday.

The steps of his mother brought him back to reality, she was rushing with the basket full of clothes that she washed, it was perfectly folded now, he moved to the left just in time to avoid a crash.

He was tired both, mentally and physically.

Letting out a loud sigh, he thought about how his mother and sisters showed up half an hour ago, and even though they didn’t say it, their actions were screaming that he was a fucking mess. They offered to prepare the meals for him and his sons daily, showed up on his doorstep unannounced and started to tidy everything up, every single thing that was out of place.

Bringing his thumb and index finger to his eyes, he started to massage them with his fingertips.

He knew they were only trying to help him, but in reality, they were only making him feel stupid and useless.

But he should be used by now, since they had this dynamic going on for a little longer than a year. Since he was widower.

“Will you do the night tales channel?” His younger sister asked.

“I don’t know… eventually I guess.”

“My favorite is when you read poems.” His other sister confessed. “You could do it on your own from your basement.” Cillian shook his head, he preferred to stay as far as possible from the internet. “What? You could even do it anonymously.”

His mum showed up again in the kitchen and without a word, started to organize the receipts, bills and bank statements that he had been accumulating over the kitchen island since the last time they were over. Folding them correctly, she placed them in a drawer.

“Forget about it.” He answered blunty. “Would you mind keeping an eye on them? I need to go out.” He asked meaning about his sons who were upstairs.

The three of them shared a concern look, Cillian wasn’t doing well, he had been answering with monosyllables for over a year, he was distracted, serious

There was no point of staying anyways, there was nothing he could do… they had already taken care of everything, the clothes, the food, the mess in his house, his kids.

He leaned his head against the cold glass of the bus. Visiting the place where they kept the ashes of the woman who once was his wife always left him emotionally shattered. He walked by inertia, following the same path without really paying attention to anything, the tiles on the floor were the same, the lines that marked the limit over the platform hadn’t changed in the last ten years, the sign that showed what to do in the case of a fire that hanged at the E-five station was so worn out that it could barely be read.

Show me the meaning of being lonely

So many words for the broken heart

It's hard to see in a crimson love

So hard to breathe

And just like that, he could make an endless list of the things that after all these years were the same, it was only his life what had changed so drastically.

The thing is, nobody understands the grief you are living unless they went through the same situation. And even that way, everyone goes through it in a different way.

Show me the meaning of being lonely

Is this the feeling I need to walk with?

As for his family, truth is he would be forever grateful for all the help they have been giving him, but it wasn’t fair for them to do all the things he was supposed to be doing. It wasn’t right. But he wasn’t sure of where to start.

Life goes on as it never ends

Eyes of stone observe the trends

They never say forever gaze, if only

His life ironically was a copy paste of the character he played a while ago for a stage play his friend Enda Walsh had adapted from the Max Porter book “Grief is a thing with feathers.” Precisely of a widower man that has two kids while the book tells how the family goes through the grief over loosing his wife and there’s a crow that also takes part of the story.

For example, he had locked in himself. Not sharing with anyone his feelings, fears, let alone his pain. He tried to stay strong and on one piece just for his sons, but honestly, he wasn’t sure of how long he would be able to keep going like that.

He made the decision to cancel all of his projects scheduled to be able to be with his sons. But now he was starting to get desperate of not doing anything. He had a lot of free time and when you go through a loss like that, it’s the last thing you need.

He made a mental note to call his agent once he got back. Perhaps he could start having a look on a couple of projects, see what’s out there… maybe he could start with a small project or return to do the radio shows, record something, anything.

He just needed a signal, something that screamed at him that it was really the right time to go back to work, to focus on himself.

Because when his family left and his sons locked themselves in their rooms, he was left accompanied just by a suffocating loneliness that gave him the warmest welcome and welcomed him with open arms. He had already made peace with it, there was nowhere to go. Just like that, overnight he was left without his partner, the mother of his kids, without a warning, with no time to somehow prepare himself.

Part of his problem was how life slapped him in the face, he felt like he was in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to run. And he also knew he couldn’t keep living like that.

Maybe by returning to doing what he loved the most, he could get back a part of what he had lost.

Adjusting in his seat, he looked at the people that took the bus, they were looking for a place to sit. He suddenly felt a shiver running down his spine, so he rubbed on his arms. Three boys around his sons age walked to the end of the bus, a man wearing a suit and tie was talking using his Bluetooth, a girl with her nose pierced and hot pink hair sat a few rows of him. Followed by a woman with a diaper bag, another bag full of shopping and a baby in her arms.

Behind her, a woman showed up, her dark hair was styled in loose waves, she was wearing white jeans and top with a beige cardigan, but her monochromatic outfit wasn’t what impressed him, but the energy she exuded, she had a genuine kind smile on her lips while her eyes were looking for an empty spot.

He wasn’t religious, but she was the closest he had ever seen to an angel.

“Adria.” He mumbled out of breath and then, he panted.

…She was unstoppable, and she took anything she wanted, with a smile.

***

Next part

A/N: let me know what you think, remember your comments mean the world to me 💖🥰

Outfit inspiration:

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @gypsy-girl-08 @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @onlydeadcells @lespendy @datewithgianni @cutecurly-hair @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @kettlechips3 @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee

[jjjvvxxjjjjk]

우리의 말 / our words

^^ is in 한국인 (korean) and english<3 ^^

어떤 단어든 사전에 나오네요… 이렇게 만들어진 세상이 정말 싫습니다. 나는 추운 6월의 아침, 만화경 안에 갇혀있습니다. 그리고 당신은 내 마음 속에 갇혀서 이번에는 사전이 작동하지 않았습니다. 나는 그것을 설명할 적절한 단어를 찾지 못했습니다. 보았지만 말로는 충분하지 않습니다. 당신이 내 생각을 떠나지 않는 이유를 설명하는 것은 없습니다. 나는 여전히 이 만화경 안에 갇혀서 도움을 청하고, 빠져나오려고 애쓰고, 옆구리를 긁적거리며 성공하지 못했지만, 여전히 당신에 대해 생각하고 있습니다. 당신은 나에게 어떤 주문을 걸었나요? 그러다가 당신의 미소가 떠올랐어요. 이 세계에 대한 교훈적인 묘사같아… 하지만 이 만화경 속의 내 하루는 이상한 의미로 비현실적인 것 같고 비극이 되어도 나는 계속 당신과 당신의 미소를 생각하며 언젠가는 이곳을 떠나 도망가기를 바라고 있습니다. 다시 당신에게. 그리고 그런 일이 일어날 때, 나는 당신이 여전히 거기에 있기를 바랍니다… 내가 돌아올 때 두 팔을 벌려 나를 환영하기를 기다리고 있습니다. 운명이나 미래 같은 단어는 우리 손에서 완전히 벗어났고 만화경을 떠났을 때 거기서 나는 당신을 보았습니다… 모든 짐을 가지고. 내가 당신을 사랑하는 방식에도 당신의 향기가 있었습니다. 그리고 내가 걷는 길에도 당신의 웃음소리가 들렸습니다. 그래도 당신은 떠났지만 당신의 모든 부분, 당신이 말하는 방식부터 당신의 걸음걸이까지 세세한 부분까지 나와 함께 있었습니다. 나의 이 두 눈으로는 당신을 기억할 수밖에 없습니다. 아니 아니! 난 못해! 나는 당신을 나의 시작으로 지키겠습니다. 나는 사람들이 추억보다는 시작이 되는 것을 더 좋아한다. 그러니 나의 시작이 되어주시고, 두 팔 벌려 당신을 기다리는 나에게로 돌아오십시오. 그러는 동안 나는 시계의 똑딱거림을 무시하고, 천년을 기다려도 언젠가는 당신이 돌아올 것임을 알고 있습니다. 그리고 내가 돌아오면 우리 ​​둘 다 가능한 한 많은 챕터 동안 함께 평생을 살 것이라는 것을 압니다.

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

Any word is found in a dictionary… how I hate the world created this way. I'm trapped inside a kaleidoscope, on a cold June morning. And you, stuck in my mind, the dictionary didn't work this time. I didn't find the right words to describe it. I looked, but no words are enough. Nothing describes why you don't leave my thoughts. I'm still trapped inside this kaleidoscope, screaming for help, trying to get out, scratching the sides, without success, but still thinking about you. What spell did you cast on me? Then, I remembered your smile. It's like a didactic description of this world… But my days in this kaleidoscope seem unreal with abnormal meanings, even if they become a tragedy, I will keep thinking about you and your smile, hoping, one day, to leave here and run to you again. And when that happens, I hope you'll still be there… waiting to welcome me with open arms upon my return. Words like destiny, or future, are completely out of our hands, and when I left the kaleidoscope, there I saw you… With all your baggage. Even the way I loved you had your aroma. And even the way I walked carried the sound of your laughter. Still, you're gone, but every part of you, from the way you spoke, to the smallest details of your walk, stayed with me. With these two eyes of mine, I have no choice but to keep you in my memory. No no! I can't! I will keep you, as my beginning. I prefer people to be a beginning, rather than a memory. So be my beginning, and come back to me, as I wait for you with open arms. Meanwhile, I ignore the ticking of the clock, and even if I wait for a thousand years, I know that one day, you will return. And when I return, I know, that we will both live our entire lives for as many chapters as we can, TOGETHER.

-by: 김 나 비

is not a poem at all, just a short text, hope y'all enjoy

[ohmygoodnessturtle]

Fragile Footsteps

empathy for whom with more to say without the time to convey

"You never open up," they say,

A closed-off soul, they perceive each day.

But when I dare to speak my mind,

They nitpick and offend, a response unkind.

I am blunt, while they tiptoe with care,

"Make it sound different," they declare.

How do I converse with a lofty soul,

A parent whose superiority takes its toll?

But as I pose that daunting query,

They shut me down, claim it's all theory.

Denying every word, dismissing my voice,

Leaving no room for understanding or choice.

A superiority complex they possess,

Believing they're better, above the rest.

Condescending, they look upon others low,

Their children included, a harsh blow.

Mad at me for waiting to stumble and fall,

Trouble arising from nowhere, their call.

Children in their grip, facing constant strife,

Affecting their well-being, draining life.

Low self-esteem takes its toll,

Feeling inadequate, a heavy toll.

Fear of failure lingers, a weight so vast,

Their ambitions curtailed, present and past.

Perfectionism arises, a burden to bear,

To meet high standards, an endless affair.

Seeking approval, desperate for praise,

Their sense of self lost in a haze.

Resentment builds, relationships strained,

Criticism endured, the bond restrained.

Autonomy and decisions cast aside,

Parent's judgment, the only guide.

Emotional distress, anxiety's embrace,

Worthlessness lingers, a darkened space.

Complaints dismissed, grievances ignored,

My voice unheard, my soul deplored.

But what is a "complain" if not expression,

Of discontent, seeking resolution's progression.

Dismissed and misunderstood, my plea,

A lack of understanding, as clear as can be.

Dismiss, get offended, correct my every word,

Listening? No, not a trait they've preferred.

To open up, I must tread so light,

Align my words with their superior might.

High horse, a phrase I dare to speak,

Yet they recoil, their reaction bleak.

Judgmental they are, critiquing all,

Their parenting prowess, never to fall.

Arrogance claims their sense of right,

More knowledgeable, an incessant plight.

Self-righteousness clouds their view,

Invalidating perspectives, a judgment they spew.

Control they crave, every aspect they steer,

Micromanaging lives, instilling fear.

Lacking empathy, distant from the pain,

Their own methods, the ultimate reign.

Criticism, their Achilles' heel,

Defensive, dismissive, their response surreal.

Oh, the high horse they ride, so grand,

Unwilling to consider, they cannot understand.

So, in this poem, I speak my truth,

Of a parent lost in superiority's booth.

May understanding find its way,

And bridge the gap that lingers today.

[ashtrayfloors]

The siren speeds by my morning window, makes me, half asleep, think it’s racing to Jersey to rescue Ted when I remember building maintenance had already been called, found him dead a week ago and he’s going to be dead from now on. The last time I sat with him in a diner was early March, before Covid hit, after the usual Sunday Parkside afternoon reading. One feature was solid, the other sucked. Ted tried a new one that cracked the audience up and I liked how my new one sounded coming out of my mouth. Ted’s talking to the waitress. She’s maybe 25, Hispanic, with a hint of attitude spicing her words. He orders a turkey burger all the time, asks if they got sweet potato fries even though he knows they do to keep her nearby. I’m deciding between eggs up over corned beef hash or a turkey club with fries, a black and white shake to help it go down. Ted, a germ-a-phobe, washes his hands. A bit of a slob, I don’t.

We agree about the reading. Francine read two strong ones and it’s always good to hear a new one from Puma with or without music. We both wanted to assassinate the political ranter, ignored the guy who rhymed. We wanted someone to gong the woman whose introduction lasted twice as long as her harmless poem and the kid scrolling the poem he finished as the F pulled into Delancey Street needed to reconsider the sanctity of the first draft. “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” filters through the sound system and Ted calls the waitress over, asks nicely if she could please change the channel, that this song makes him sick to his stomach. The waitress walks away shaking her head, smiling, while he tells me how he can’t stand fucking Stills, re-tells his story about the night him and his friends threw snowballs at Buffalo Springfield after a show and how the Buffalos chased them down the street until they reached their apartment building safely. Tough Bronx boys my ass I laugh, tell him Steven was a better songwriter than Neil back then. I stop talking, sing along to the dododot ending while he hoped his snowball missed Young, hit Stills. Baseball’s next. Alonso or Judge, deGrom, Cole. Though I know Jacob is the best pitcher on the planet I pump up Cole because it’s more fun to argue and it cracks me up to see Ted agitated, loud. He gets up to hit the bathroom before his trip to Jersey. I hold it in, prefer my home bowl.

We should have talked about suicide. Optimistic me against Ted’s darkness. The idea of control, dignity, the freeing from hopelessness and constant suffering, peace at last, finally, versus everybody dies, why help it out and hurry it along, the finality, the no-going-back of it, just tough your way through like we always do, holding onto the little things that lift us momentarily and if you get to a point you’re thinking about it, say something. I’ll Uber to Jersey, beat you with a stick ball bat, knock some sense into your cement-hard head, alright?

It’s March, 70 degrees, Covid’s loosening its grip. Go for a brisk walk, lift your hands out of pockets. Women and girls parade Avenues looking more wonderful than ever after all this covering up, isolation. It’s time to get out of Jersey, head to Brighton Beach, that apartment you talked about. Sit on the boardwalk. Smell the ocean, hang out with Al Gal, down a few cold ones. Opening Day is three weeks away, the Mets are certain contenders, even the Knicks are watchable. Ted, you dumb fuck, where are you? There are poems only you could write, people who want to read them. I just finished a new one. I want to email it to you. I am waiting for you to tear it apart or love it a lot.

—Tony Gloeggler, “Aftermath” (Rattle #73, Fall 2021)

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student. 

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much. 

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

           For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

           Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

           Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

           But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

           Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

           She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

           Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

           When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

--

           It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

           In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

           This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

           She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

           This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

           She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

           Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

           Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

           This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn 

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me. 

           That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

           The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

--

           Spencer is horribly frustrated.

           A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

           At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

           The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

           And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

           Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

           Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

           And play she has.

           From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

           The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

          Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

          “I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

           She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

           “Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

           The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

           The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

--

           “Where are we going?”

           Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

           Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

           Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

           “Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

           Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

           “Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

           He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

           “Spencer, please.”

           Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

           “Yes, my love?”

           Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

           “I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

           “Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

           “I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

           Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

           “You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

           Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

           A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

           “Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

           Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

           Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

           “Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

           “Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

           Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

           “You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

           Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

           Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

           “That’s why.”

           Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

           The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

           “I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

           “Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

           “You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

           Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

           “Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

           Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

           “Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

           A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

           “Jump.”

           It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

           Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

           “Spencer!”

           Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

           His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

           “You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

           Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

           “I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

           Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

            She silences those fears with a kiss.

           “Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

           Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

           “Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

           “Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

           Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

           “I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

           “Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

           She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

           “Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

           “Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

           She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

           While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

           A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

           “It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

           Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

           “As they should. That was sensational.”

           Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

           The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

           “What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

           Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

           “I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

           As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

           “I have a few ideas.”

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[lolibles]

A-Z with kazuha

character: kazuha x reader

pure fluff, complete brainrot, some angst not much tho

synopsis: the fluff alphabet with kazuha

implied gn!reader but please let me know if there are any mistakes or things i should look out for when writing gn!reader, im still learning!! <3 NOT PROOFREAD its so long and im lazy :)

A- how affectionate are they with their s/o?

kazuha is a very affectionate person, and he doesn’t try to hide it. kazuha is known for his flowery words, while kazuha loves to turn all kinds of things into poetry, its painfully obvious when one is about you. kazuha never fails to show his affection and love to you with his words and endless haikus of you. he can not stop talking about you, and even though sometimes he does it to tease you and get a laugh at your flustered expression, every time he declares his undying love for you, he means it.

B- what their s/o does that takes their breath away?

there are many things you do that take his breath away, but one thing that makes his heart do backflips is when you remember his haikus, and keep his gifted poems. kazuha has dedicated too many of his poems to you to count, kazuha himself can barely remember all of them. so you can say he was very shocked when one night you randomly whispered a poem he created for you months ago into his ear. kazuha was beyond shocked, his head never turned so fast to look at you, eyes widening. when he asked how you still remembered it, you pulled out a little notebook with scribbles of the poems and pieces of paper stuck inside with notes of dates, and the occasional doodles. you said it was so you never forget any of them, even when you were old. as kazuha flipped through the book he noticed poems from as far back as when he barely knew you. kazuha turned back to you and buried his head in your neck, attempting to hide the blush on his face as he kept mumbling i love you. his heart was swooning with love and joy for you, he knew you loved him, but he never knew something as simple as that could make his whole world stop.

C- do they like cuddling? if so, how and when?

kazuha loves cuddling so much. kazuha is honestly pretty touch starved so he constantly craves your touch. kazuha also gets pretty tired after working a full day out on the alcor or helping out with the resistance. he believes after a full days worth of hard work nothing beats lazing around tangled in your arms. kazuha doesn’t mind being the big spoon or little spoon. there are times of vulnerability where kazuha just needs you to hold him close, run your fingers through his hair and tell him everything will be okay. and there are times where he wants to hold you tight in his embrace as if he was protecting you for the most malicious forces in the world. there are also times where he simply just wants to be close to you, bodies smushed together, his hands wrapped around you with his neck buried in your collar. he tries to make you laugh or giggle so he can feel the vibrations of your sweet voice. kazuha loves to cuddle you at night before bed, he loves to fall asleep with you, the sound of your heartbeat lulling him to sleep, the warmth of your body is so pleasant and inviting. however cuddling at night often means waking up much later than usual. it means that either beidou or gorou angrily barging into your quarters to wake you guys up because you both were late, threatening to split the both of you up since you can never wake up on time.

D- what do they dream of doing with their s/o?

kazuha is a simple man, he finds joy and love in the littlest things. but that doesn’t ever stop him for dreaming- or rather hoping. he wishes one day he can walk down the streets of his hometown and show you the different sights. he hopes that there will be a day when he can see you wear a kimono, under the moonlight as he takes you up to a secluded spot to view the beautiful fireworks, although he will argue that you are far more lovely. kazuha hopes to bring you to see the sakura trees bloom, as you talk about how you wished you could’ve have seen them earlier, he wishes he can brush off the flower petals on your head before pulling you in for a gentle kiss. most importantly kazuha hopes that one day, he can bring you to visit his friend. even if he no longer is blessed upon this world, kazuha is sure he would have loved you. it is only necessary for kazuha to introduce his beloved to his only family.

E- how much effort do they put into the relationship?

kazuha pours his entire soul into your relationship, you are the only one he has left after all. kazuha believes his sole purpose is to treat you like his queen, if even for a second you feel like you aren’t loved, then he has failed. kazuha wants to serve you, though you often tell him he should try to put himself first, he’d merely chuckle and say “if i’m the reason you smile as brightly as the sun, the reason you sleep well at night or the reason you wish to wake up the next day. then there is not a thing i would change.”

F - do they want to start a family with their s/o? what is parenting like with them?

after getting over kazuha's fear of marriage (check M), kazuha wouldn't mind starting a family. although he is perfectly fine if it is just the two of you. if you want children then he is ready to learn, for you. i think kazuha would settle with one or two children, and he says he doesn't mind if you have a girl or a boy- but he is hoping on a boy. kazuha would be a great dad, apart from the fact he travels a lot and is rarely home. he tries his best to be there for you, he usually takes on jobs in the area you are staying or go on shorter trips with the crux while you are in the first few years having a child. he doesn't want to leave all the work to you of raising a young child, nor does he want to miss out those precious years of being a new parent. he loves adventuring but he loves his family too. another thing kazuha can not get enough of is seeing the look on your child's face when he arrives back after a trip, waiting for him at the harbour, flailing their arms about to capture his attention. and he can not ignore the look on your face either, so happy that your loving husband is home. kazuha can be strict but he prefers not to be, he can't say no to those curious eyes that look just like yours. i like to think that kazuha teaches your child to be a smooth talker just like him, this means they both get out of trouble a lot with you. despite kazuha's aloof demeanour, he actually has a rather playful side to him often pulling small pranks with your child on you. he tells your child stories of all kinds of adventures he has been on, your heart swoons at the sight of your child resting atop his chest trying his best not to fall asleep due to the warmth kazuha radiates. kazuha teaches your child all about inazuma and his heritage, telling them about the history and how one day he will bring both them and you to visit his homeland. the safety of his family is his number one priority, he will do anything to protect you and your child. he also teaches your child how to fight, and most importantly self-defence. if you both are travellers though, you decide to wait until your child is older to bring them on your adventures. and when they are, beidou certainly doesn't mind having a little kid running around the alcor causing a ruckus amongst other crew members.

G- what kind of gifts to they give their s/o? do they want one in return?

kazuha has always loved the sentiment of crafting a handmade gift. the amount of time and effort that goes into making something, is enough to show how much love someone has for them. kazuha also always loves to imagine what kind of expression you’d have after receiving his gift, he never asks for anything in return, well actually occasionally he’ll ask for a kiss thats it. kazuha remembers making you a beautiful hairpin, one that matched with his maple leaf haori. he gave it to you one night randomly, his hands pushing aside a bit of your hair to pin up. the way your eyes closed as he inches closer, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin. when he finally backed away from you to take a look at his masterpiece, he was stunned. the way your face glistened from under the moonlight, you were so ethereal. his breath hitched, and the calm man sitting in front of you became flustered. kazuha made a note to always mentally prepare himself before giving you a gift that you could physically wear- if not he’d definitely blow a fuse.

H- do they hug their s/o? how often?

kazuha definitely hugs you, but i feel like hugs only happen at specific times. of course he will indulge you if you ask for it. kazuha hugs you when he misses you, when he needs you close to him. if you didn’t travel with him, he hugs you a goodbye and a hello. kazuha hugs you tightly because he knows he will be leaving soon, or he misses you so much and never wants to let you go. if someone ever makes kazuha jealous (which doesn’t happen very often), he will hug you from your waist whilst no one was looking, as he buries his head into your neck, taking in your scent. “your mine.” he’d whisper, hugging you tighter. “i am yours.”

I- how romantic are they? do they have problems with being intimate?

kazuha has very little problems with intimacy, he is a naturally romantic person. the way he speaks should be more than enough as evidence. he doesn’t get flustered easily, and he loves to see your expressions when he does something overly romantic- cheesy even, at the most random times. his poetry and haikus are often of you, he doesn’t shy away from flirting with you, teasing you, and constantly he is thinking of different ways to show his love to you. like i said he never knows what may happen tomorrow, so he is going to spend every day in the present being romantic and loving to you.

J- do they get jealous easily? how do they act?

i can’t typically see kazuha as getting jealous easily. there is often the rare occasion of him getting impatient because someone else has held your attention for too long, but other than that its very rare for kazuha to get jealous- he trusts you too much and feels like there’s simply no need for such feelings. i feel like one of the only few times kazuha would get jealous is when he’s drunk. drunk kazuha is needy and clingy, he wants to be around no one but you. if there is the slightest bit of space between you two, kazuha is determined to get rid of it by any means necessary. if you’re having a conversation with someone, be prepared to continue it another day because kazuha is whisking you away and peppering you with kisses while glaring at the person who kept you away from him the whole time. it gets a little uncontrollable when it happens, but kazuha remembers everything that happens the night before and his reaction is absolutely priceless.

K- are they a good kisser? do they like it? how often?

kazuha is miraculously a great kisser, well that is debatable from the beginning since he didn’t have much experience but he learnt very fast, and he is an amazing learner. kazuha’s everyday kisses can range from many varieties. kazuha’s forehead kisses usually linger for just the right amount of time, they are comforting and homely. it feels like you can tell how much kazuha trusts and adores you when he gives you forehead kisses. kazuha’s cheek kisses are different. they are quick and fleeting, usually he peppers your face with them, instead of a single kiss. it is playful and often filled with laughter, kazuha does it with a teasing note as his hands cup your face and pulls you closer for another kiss attack. lastly kazuha’s kisses on your lips, saved for the most romantic and intimate moments you share. often hidden from the public where kazuha can show you how much he loves you without any interruptions. they are passionate and always leaves the both of you wanting for more. he kisses you not too rough not too gentle, just until your lips are slightly plump and red. he takes your cheek in his hand, his other on your waist, pulling you close he whispers “may i?” and if you allow him, he will make sure this is a kiss you never forget.

bonus: kisses on the back of your neck, saved for the most private moments. if you have longer hair he likes to brush your hair back and place a teasing kiss on your neck, just to see you get flustered. and if you have shorter hair he finds himself often staring at the back of your neck, and just decides to indulge himself a few times with a kiss- teasing you along the way.

L- when do they say i love you? how often? do they say or show it more?

kazuha has always been more of a mix of both, he tends to show his love a lot yet he never fails to let you know he loves you. kazuha says it when it is just the two of you, when he has your attention and he has yours. he says it while tangled in your arms, under the blankets as you try to fight the feeling of sleep so you can spend more time with your beloved. kazuha shows it in his actions, even if done unconsciously, he somehow manages to convey ‘i love you’. its evident in the way he smiles for you, his eyes glistening as he lets out a hearty laugh. its evident in the way he holds your hand, guiding you down the stairs- even though you are perfectly capable of walking on your own. it is evident in the way he stares at you while you patch him up after he got hurt again, listening to your mother-like nagging to be careful. he doesn’t always say it outright, but you know, you know he loves you.

M- thoughts on marriage? how do they want to hold the ceremony?

well kazuha definitely has thought about it, thats for sure. in all honesty he is a little intimidated by the idea of marriage. don’t get me wrong, he wants to get married to you, its just kazuha has an interesting past. he’s afraid that somehow even if he’s miles away from her, she’d end up coming back to haunt him, and this time take you too. kazuha also knows unlike others, he can’t offer you the most stable life. he fled from his own country, a god literally wants him dead. he wanders around without an end destination, no real home anymore. he wonders if you really want to get married to someone like him- this thoughts are the things that keep him awake at night. if you ever help kazuha get over his fears and make him understand you love him for who he is now, perhaps he wouldn’t hesitate before popping the question. he would love a quiet and small ceremony, he doesn’t mind a grand wedding but he would prefer something more lowkey and intimate. no distractions so he can take it all in, you finally are his.

N- what are dates like with them? how often do you guys have night outs?

dates aren’t as easy to come by with kazuha, working on the sea or with the resistance means work needs to be done and there isn’t much time for going out. but kazuha makes it work, most of the time its rather spontaneous. kazuha would appear before you and ask you to close your eyes, taking your hands in his to guide you to a little spot he made up on the alcor. hidden away from the drunkards causing a ruckus on deck. he sits you down next to him on a nice blanket and asks you to open your eyes. its a cute little get up, a few snacks and sake under the stars. kazuha would apologise for not being able to give you a proper date, yet you couldn’t ask for more. he’d pull you close saying he didn’t want you to get cold, and he’d teach you about stars and constellations.

another time while you both were working hard for the resistance, kazuha showed up by your tent at night and asked you to accompany for a walk. kazuha would take your hand in his, as he carried an umbrella over your heads. he wouldn’t bring you too far from camp but he tried to make your time worthwhile. he’d tell you about the poems he made of you the afternoon since he missed you the whole day. he’d promise to take you somewhere nicer once everything was under control again- he gives your hand a squeeze and kisses you on the cheek. it wasn’t much but it was all you both had. )

O- what would they do if their s/o got hurt or injured badly? (ouch)

it doesn’t matter how hurt you got, small or big, kazuha feels his world stop spinning. his mind flashes back to the moment he watched his friend die, and he desperately tries to keep his emotions at bay. tears threaten to spill, his voice cracks as he asks where you are. he gets to you as fast as he can, he begs that his legs don't give way yet. he blames himself for not being able to protect you, he couldn't save his friend, but please not you. the moment he catches the glimpse of your body bandaged up, bruises scattered all over skin, he can not contain the amount of guilt that rushes over himself. kazuha is by your side in an instant, taking your hand gently as he lets his eyes scan over your injury. he doesn't stop apologising, he lowers his head as he lets the waterworks run. ironically watching kazuha blame himself for not being able to protect you hurts more than the injuries you have sustained. if you can, please take him into your arms, tell him it's not his fault and you are okay. kazuha wouldn't know what to do if you were gone too.

P- are they playful in the relationship? how do they mess around with their s/o?

it may not look like it, but kazuha is rather playful. especially when it is just the two of you, kazuha suppresses the urge to not tease you. he can't help that you are just so easy to tease. he likes to challenge you to little games at the expense of a kiss. he loves seeing your expressions when he teases you, or purposely loses to you at a game. he also loves to flirt with you, tell you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you his- even if you already are. he definitely is the type to ask you if your single and want to date him while you are dating, he says "your boyfriend doesn't need to know, so just come with me" and if you play along he falls more in love. it's also dangerous if your a ticklish person, he will often poke you just to hear your laugh or squeal. he craves to hear your melodic laugh, he never wants you to shut up. kazuha is never mean when he plays around with you though, he never crosses the line and he can read the mood well. he knows when is the right time to mess around with you, and he knows when to stop. as much as he loves it he never wants to make you mad. i

Q- what will they do if their s/o is queer or part of the LGBT community? how will they react?

kazuha doesn't mind, he believes that love is love and coincidentally he loves you for you. kazuha listens and is keen on learning your past and why you decides to be who you are now. he picks up on your prefered pronouns without hesitation and treats you with nothing but respect. if you are insecure about it, he will make it his only goal to write you a poem a day about how much he loves you and how much he wishes for you to find self love. kazuha is aware of the occasional disapproval from outsiders, and he doesn't think twice before using his vision to mess with them, knocking them off their balance or messing up their hair. he tells you that others may say what they want but you need not worry for there are many others who love you and will love you for the rest of their lives- him included.

R- how random and spontaneous is the relationship?

a relationship with kazuha is beyond random. there are moments when kazuha just grabs your hand and takes you away to some place because he wants to be with you. kazuha enjoys surprising you with things as well, if he sees something he thinks you will like, he will buy it or attempt to make it for you. when he travels he definitely brings you back pressed flowers or pretty gemstones that remind him of you. kazuha often does things for you on a "just because" basis, even if it holds no significant reason, he will give you a gift, give you a kiss or whatever you want. kazuha also randomly declares his love for you just because.

S- what do they do is their s/o is scared?

kazuha knows what its like to be scared, to feel petrified to the point its hard to breathe, hard to speak, hard to move. his world crumbles at the thought of how you may go through emotions like that. he never wants you to go through any pain, it simply doesn’t matter what causes you to feel so frightened. if it scares you, it scares you. there is no need for him to laugh at you or belittle your feelings. kazuha will never forgive himself if he makes you feel invalidated. when you are scared, kazuha will be by your side in an instant, his arms engulfing you like a warm blanket, as he whispers sweet nothings into you ear. he asks you to focus on his fingers tracing shapes onto your back. he doesn’t let go of you until he feel your heart rate return to normal. and when it does, he releases you from his tight grip to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. giving you a simple smile. “my love, i wont let anything harm you. i love you.”

T- how much do they trust their s/o?

to be in a relationship means kazuha trusts you a lot. kazuha has gone through much, and is constantly on the run. there are few people he can open up to and trust that they would not leave him behind. it takes a while for kazuha to tell you about everything, don't get me wrong he knows he loves you but it isn't easy to bring something so dark about his past to light. he hopes you don't get mad or disturbed by him for keeping it hidden for so long. when he finally does tell you about his past, and you stick by him no matter what he feels his heart slowly gets put back into place.

U- do they like to take things slow or fast? (urgency)

kazuha takes things at a pretty average pace. honestly it's kind of like a write off, he knows it will take him a while to fully trust someone yet he is undoubtedly touch-starved. and when it comes to you he can't seem to hold himself back. when kazuha courts you its slow and relaxed, he never wants to force you into a relationship and make you uncomfortable. he takes his time to learn what you like and dislike, he takes his time to get to know you. and when you finally start dating he tends to take things faster, not too fast though, he makes sure everything he does is okay with you before rushing in head first. unconsciously he tends to touch you a lot, he finds comfort in your warmth. sometimes it's as simple as brushing your hair back, and sometimes it's having his hands on your thigh while you sit next to him. he just loves it so much.

V- how vocal are they about the relationship? do they want it to be a secret?

kazuha prefers to keep it lowkey. only a few people know of your relationship with him. he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him, after all he is rather infamous for escaping from the shogunate and their leader. he also is more on the private side. however its very easy to tell that kazuha is infatuated with you solely by the way he looks at you, talk of you. you can tell that he is completely smitten over you, it takes someone awfully dense to not realise his feelings for you.

W- random scenario with them! (wild card)

the first time kazuha saw you dressed up so beautifully was when beidou insisted that the both of you attended a party in liyue with her. he didn't enjoy parties as much but he thought it would be nice for you to take a break from running away, and if you were there he was sure it would be a lot more bearable. and he was right, it was. beidou had whisked you away earlier to be presentable for the occasion, kazuha himself had to wear something he wasn't used to- he thought it was uncomfortable. but the moment he saw you walk out of the room dressed to the nines, all the discomfort that came with his outfit was thrown out the window and replaced with fluster. kazuha was quick to regain his normal charm however, throwing compliments in your directions as he held out his arm for you to hold- yet not even his sly behaviour could escape your eyes, there indeed was a blush on his cheeks. beidou left the two of you to be, enjoying the food and lovely music playing in the background, yet all kazuha could hear was the melody of your voice. as the room fell silent and a slow tune began, kazuha earned a few nudges from beidou "ask them to dance" she whispered. and he did, it felt like it was straight out of a fairy tale. his eyes were burning into yours as he reached his hand out. you gladly accepted, but you never knew kazuha had learnt to dance, especially so well. you suppose everything about him is eloquent. the moment was something you'd cherish for the entirety of your life, the feeling of him guiding your footsteps along to his. his hands resting perfecting on your waist as yours did by his neck. he often made small jokes about the other stuck up guests, which made you laugh. his heart fluttered. as the song came to an end, you gave him a small kiss on his cheek. a smile appeared on his face, your action warming his chest.

"won't you dance with me again, my love?"

X- do they like petnames? do they use petnames? (XOXO)

kazuha loves using petnames on you. he likes to call you darling or my love. he finds using nicknames rather endearing, and he loves how you react with a simple "hm?" because you know he loves you like that. if you ever give kazuha a petname his heart swoons in adoration for you. he loves them! but kazuha also loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, the sound of your voice is like maple syrup in his ears.

Y- what do they do when they yearn for you?

missing you is something kazuha is unfortunately used to. given that kazuha is a traveller it is understandable why you two are often apart. when kazuha misses you, everyone can tell. especially since your absence in his life is all his poetry becomes. he muses how you are and how it hurts being so far from you. he often finds himself immersed in creating more haikus to show you when he finally reunites with you. more here.

Z- what is sleeping like with them? (zzz)

sleeping with kazuha is warm, you never have to fear the cold especially with kazuha's arms wrapped protectively around you. kazuha doesn't care whether he is the big spoon or small spoon, he just wants to be with you. if he spoons you, just make sure that he wakes up earlier than you if not he is never letting go. his grip is not too tight but still very strong around you. he enjoys being close to you and he loves how you let him be near you. if you are spooning him, please let kazuha rest his head in the crook of your neck. he loves to feel your heartbeat as he tries to fall asleep, the last thing he hears is your heart thumping every so peacefully. the smell of your soap puts him to sleep in a way he never knew it could. he loves how this time you wrap your arms around him to protect him instead, for once he feels like in your arms, he is perfectly safe.

oh my god this took so damn long???? but i didn't have much inspiration and this just came to mind. some letters were EXTREMELY hard to write so please excuse if its a little ooc i tried ;-; im glad im done tho, this honestly is the longest thing i have written in a very very long time and im really happy i did. im also pretty excited to try it for other characters i already have childe's and xiao's one in mind :) anyway!!!!!! please let me know if you liked this thank u bebs muah...

[golden-wingseos]

calling them embarrassing nicknames

i think this is a tiktok? but my friend sent me this video and wow...

featuring —

✧ xiao, kazuha, venti, zhongli, ganyu, albedo (separate) x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ not proofread, spoilers for the mondstadt archon quest

notes ―

✧ cuz look at ur face ur so gorgeous and im so curious at u for making me feel this way but what can i say ur gorgeous

it was just a normal liyue day for the yaksha... you know, fighting demons, coming back to the inn early just so he could see you before leaving to fight aga—wait, what?

ah... um... anyways!

anywho... since the yaksha miraculously finished all of his duties early, he was quick to return to you. expecting his usual dose of almond tofu and affection, it was safe to say that xiao was not expecting you to greet him...

with the term, "snuggluffagus."

what? uh... well, xiao doesn't know much about mortal customs. was this normal?

(what does snuggluffagus even mean?!)

"Welcome home, snuggluffagus," your voice was adoring, yet you could not help but stifle a laugh at Xiao's confused expression.

"Snugga-what-now?" He repeated, hallow from confusion. What kind of mortal nickname was that? He preferred all the other nicknames you had—like 'love' or 'darling'.

(Not that he'd ever admit that, of course.)

"Don't worry about it, shmoop! I have some almond tofu for you, here."

As you were handing the Yaksha his daily dosage of almond tofu, his stare nearly burned your eyes. Clearly trying to formulate a response, it seems that even Adepti could not withstand the power of nicknames.

He munched on the tofu in confusion, sparing glances every now and then to look back at you.

What the heck is a shmoop? was all the immortal could think.

kazuha is the type to shrug it off but get more and more confused as the day goes on

especially if you call him something weird in front of the crew. seriously? did you have to stain his cool and mysterious dignity as a samurai from inazuma like that? come on!

but once he catches onto the fact that it's a joke—hoo wee, you're in for a ride!

"Hey, babycakes." You shuffled nonchalantly next to the samurai, feigning ignorance to the way he glanced at you with confusion.

"Babycakes?" He chuckles slightly, always amused with your antics, "that's new."

"I wanted to try something new, poopsie."

He smiles slightly before grabbing your hand in his. He overlooks that phrase, thinking you're just exercising your jaw muscles or something along those lines...

of course, the moment you call him "babycakes" is the moment kazuha is on alert. something is up, something is boiling from behind the storm—

but what can he do when you gaze at him so fondly like that? even if he can tell you're messing around and up-to-something-not-so-good, he can't help but lower his guard

that is, until you call him 'poopsie' in front of captain beidou of all people

"Poopsie! Want to try the drink I got from Liyue?" You rushed up to the anemo-wielder. Just having bought some souvenirs as the Crux was docked at Liyue Harbor, you were excited to share some with the samurai.

"Poopsie?" You don't notice Beidou's presence until she echoes the nickname you just called Kazuha, "hah. That's what you kids are up to nowadays, hm?"

Kazuha coughs into his fist, sparing you a side-eye as if to question what you were doing.

don't be surprised once he calls you something obnoxious like jujubee tomorrow. you had it in for you.

venti catches on immediately

how, you may ask? well, because usually, it's him doing this to you! hah, karma, you little bard!

just kidding. he'll retaliate with 10x worse nicknames. think you can test him, barbatos? there's no poem he doesn't know! therefore, there's no nickname he also doesn't know! what can he say? he's a genius!

haha... haha... goodluck <3

"Snookums, I got some snacks!"

Venti immediately perks up once he hears your voice. With an unfazed smile at your sudden nickname, the bard merely laughs once you pout with confusion.

"Is that so? Thank you, cutie patootie!"

Sparks flew in the air, but it was not due to electro. No— in fact, this was the start of an invisible war between lovers.

the day carries out with you two calling each other the most horrid nicknames ever... and diluc? he's there. the thirdwheel, as always, but this time, he must deal with two idiots.

"You're so nice, Nemo!"

"Thank you, Yoda!"

"You're as stunning as Barsibato!"

"Is that so? I think you outshine even Barsabababatos, my dearest muggle!"

Fingers tightening around the glass bottle he was holding, Diluc could only grit his teeth with annoyance before mustering a "get out."

"Aww, Master Diluc, don't be like that, babyface!" Venti laughed fearlessly, unaware of the claymore that was being pulled out like a dagger.

It was said that the tavern was especially warm that day 💖.

zhongli would be very, very confused.

he has never heard you use such terms before... not that he's complaining, of course, zhongli loves anything and everything you'd do

... but how was it that 'baboons without fur'... a nickname?

"Baboons without fur, which shirt should I wear?"

Zhongli doesn't even look up, assuming that 'baboons without fur' was someone else. Hu Tao, perhaps?

"Zhongli?"

The man immediately gazes up at you from the book he was reading. "Yes, love?"

"Which shirt should I wear?"

He looks around the office, confused at who you were referring to before. Though, he shrugs it off, choosing you a shirt that suited you best.

he doesn't mull it over too much, carrying on with the book he was reading as if nothing had happened

but randomly, when you're out doing ... uh... you, things... he closes his book with one hand and goes:

"what does a baboon look like without fur?"

he waits for you to come home to question you.

"Welcome home, darling. How was today?" Zhongli is inviting, as he always is, before sitting you down at the dinner table. With a warm cup of tea and your favorite food already prepared, you could only smile cheekily considering the cards you had up your sleeve.

"It was good, cauliflower conqueror. Thank you for asking."

He pauses.

He was most definitely a conqueror—but cauliflower? Wasn't that a vegetable?

"Darling," his tone is firm and direct, sending shivers down your spine yet the smile in your face did not falter. He was warm, subconsciously so, it was to the point where even his 'commanding' voice was not enough to shake you.

"Yes, dove soap?"

"These nicknames are... new... what do they mean?"

"Dove soap is a type of soap."

He sighs before sitting down.

"No, I meant what does a baboon without fur mean?"

"It means a furless baboon, dove soap. What else were you expecting?" You laugh, partially because of Zhongli's confusion and the way you got away with calling him a literal monkey.

"... I mean, what happened to 'love' and 'darling'? Not that I'm irritated over the new nicknames, of cou—"

please stop before he asks xiao to bring him a baboon so he can see what one looks like. this man is too intent on figuring out of those nicknames have some kind of philosophical or deeper meaning

"perhaps... a baboon without fur represents your heart... completely open... yes. naked, your heart is naked to these emotions...?" — zhongli, probably

ganyu would downright ask you if this was some new mortal trend.

the adeptus is completely open to these new nicknames! sure, 'inkless marker' was nowhere near as endearing as 'love' was. but, who's she to complain?

(help her pls)

"Back from home already, inkless marker?"

Ganyu tilts her head, confused before you stumbled up to her with a grin. Engulfing her with your arms, the half-qilin had no time to mull over what you just called her.

"Yes, love. I hope I didn't take too long." A shy smile creeps up on her face.

and so the night progresses. at the dinner table, ganyu can only stop mid-chew once you call her the most absurd things

"honey booboo, are you going to eat the bon choy?"

"honey... booboo...? i haven't heard the mortals at the harbor ever call anyone that before... is this a nickname you came up with yourself, dear?"

you grin, and all ganyu can do is return it. darn, if you didn't skewer her heart like that, maybe she could quench the thirst of curiosity in her mind

"yep! do you like it, honey booboo?"

no. ganyu does not like it. she likes the honey part, sure, but the booboo part? uhh...

"it's... new."

"it is!"

please revert back to the usual 'love' and 'honey' before ganyu loses her mind and asks ningguang if 'honey booboo' is a term of endearment used by close lovers

this man does not even bat an EYE.

he thinks: "oh, [name] is up to [name] things again." before calling you the same nicknames nonchalantly

you called him a dandruff clump? well, he called you a hydro abyss mage. how cute!

"Greek yogurt!" You waved excitedly at Albedo, informing him of your presence at his Dragonspine camp.

You had just barely squeezed in enough time to spend with your lover today—and what do you do, now that he was right in front of you?

Well, call him weird things, of course!

albedo would just slightly smile at you in greeting before resuming his work. only until does he take a break does he realize what you called him

"darling, what is greek yogurt?"

"it's a yogurt."

"is it a good yogurt?"

"eh."

albedo blinks. did that mean you thought of him as an 'eh'? well, perhaps this was some kind of sign or whatever... like when people play hard to get...

"i see. thank you then, anemo slime."

"why anemo?"

"eh."

albedo is a smug little man. do not test him (jk test him all u want bby)

"Oh, [Name]! You're here!" Sucrose nearly dropped her potions at the mere sight of you. Watching Albedo hum in response while you merely held up a peace sign, all was well until the chief alchemist actually decided to speak.

"Whopperflower nectar, can you pass me the crystalflies?"

You and Sucrose exchange glances.

"Whopperflower nectar?" Sucrose repeats with confusion. "Who is that?"

"Oh, you know them as [Name]."

albedo will continue to call you random alchemy things until you tell him it was just a joke. please, spare your dignity.

[merakiui]

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own “lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.