#loop stare be upon ye

[stardink]

Woe! Loop doodle be upon ye

[goxjo]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 ⋮ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢

↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you find no way out of the most absurd wedding tradition of all time — the garter toss

pairing. groomsman! sakusa kiyoomi x bridesmaid! reader

warnings. no pronouns, f anatomy! reader, peer pressure, biting, soft dom! sakusa, he calls you pretty a lot, he uses the pet name ‘baby’, light choking, he wears a condom but discards it later on, handjob, slight humiliation, slight corruption, deepthroating, slight gagging, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, edging, slight praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!!!! I love him this is a lot I know

word count. 6.1k

an. this is one of my fav fics that I’ve ever written, speaking as an omi girlie myself ;; this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

“Flower girls, please save the petals for when you walk down the aisle. And please, behave,” the coordinator says with hints of sweetness in his voice. He dusts off a few petals that got on his sleeves from a playful dispute between the little girls. Later, he requests for the older (and the more collected) bunch — the bridesmaids and the groomsmen — to be in their places in exactly five minutes.

You don’t really know much of the people here, save for a few bridesmaids and the bride herself, all of whom you’ve been friends with ever since high school. A few minutes ago, at the very brief orientation for the entourage, you stiffened when they announced who you’re getting paired with — a tall man with black wavy hair swept to one side, two prominent moles on the right side of his forehead, dark piercing eyes, and the rest of his face hidden behind a mask. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just seems like he didn’t want to be there.

The coordinator darts his eyes back and forth from his clipboard onto the pairs falling in line but fixes his gaze on your partner who’s about an arm’s length away from you.

“Kiyoomi-san, please take it off just for the ceremony.”

Your partner gives his offender a sinister look, furrowing his brows before ultimately giving in — taking a deep sigh as he hooks his fingers on the loops of his mask.

Your head subconsciously draws back upon seeing his whole face, eyes fluttering, completely taken by how soft the entirety of his face looks regardless of the spiteful demeanor he gave off.

Mesmerized, you watch him slowly glance from the ground up as he folds his mask, keeping it deep in one of his pockets. As soon as your eyes locked, he cocks a brow, and the realization kicks in that you have just been caught ogling him.

Immediately, you look away, attempting to brush off your embarrassment now that you’re minutes away from walking down the aisle.

Shit. Please look away, please—

Promptly, you check to see if he’s still looking. And yes, he is, in fact, staring at you intently. He takes a few steps towards you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

“Sorry, I was just… did you want something—”

“Hold still.”

He inches closer to you, inspecting your face, and you can feel his warm breath brushing over your cheek. He raises his hand and as soon as you feel his fingers running through your hair, you can't help but jolt backwards in response.

“I said hold still,” he commands.

Your mouth opens agape and you feel a soft pinch at the top of your head. Pretty soon he’s waving a stray petal in front of your face.

He falls back in line, letting go of the petal to drop on the red carpet, and you, on the other hand, are frozen in place, not having moved an inch from where he left you.

You realize that you may have overreacted but your heart is pumping nonetheless.

“____, Kiyoomi, you’re up next!” the coordinator announces, and snapping you out of your daze is Kiyoomi offering his arm for you to take.

…

If there’s one thing at a wedding that the guests enjoy more than the bride and groom themselves, that would be the garter toss. Roaring cheers are heard from all corners of the reception hall and phones are whipped out, taking every good angle of the bride and groom in the middle of the dance floor. Obviously, no one is missing a shot of this momentous occasion. You can even tell by the expressions of the hotel staff that they aren’t immune to the appeal of the lewd tradition.

In reality, the ordeal actually goes by quickly. But from both the viewer and the participant’s perspective, it somehow feels menacingly slow. You suppose it’s due to the thrill of having someone consent to get borderline felt up on center stage as a groomsman sticks his head under their skirt, all while crappy overused stripper music plays in the background.

You have to admit, it’s quite the craze… until you consider the possibility that it’s you who gets to do it after all. “All single women to the center of the dancefloor. Bridesmaids, no exceptions!” the host announces, pertaining to you in particular upon seeing your hesitation.

To slim those chances, you stand as far back as possible. That, and so as to not get caught up with the horde of bachelorettes aching for their turn to play wifey. Your friend, the bride, takes one good look at you lot before spotting you at the rear, locking eyes with you, smirking.

You know that devilish look. Oh, don’t you dare.

And with a good throw, the bouquet flies past the mob of hopeful brides-to-be. They attempt their hardest to reach for it but to no avail, now only able to merely follow it with their eyes. A dozen heads turn to look at your figure and reality slaps them on the face all at once, the glimmer of hope leaving their eyes hollow upon seeing the bouquet already within your grasp.

Fuck.

…

Let’s just get this over with. Holy shit, can I do this…

You squirm in your seat, fiddling with the smooth lace wrapped around the bouquet on your lap, mentally debating whether to just say you’re not up for it, but your friends will never let you hear the last of it if you decide to sit this one out.

When you hear the swarm of bachelors bark in defeat, you look for the hand that holds the garter and your eyes widen in shock when you realize who it belongs to.

Although he doesn’t appear to be as miserable as you, not even his mask could hide that it irks him to be on the receiving end of all this attention. How he even ended up being included in the roster of bachelors, you do not know.

You’re being pulled by two of your friends towards the center stage. And just when you think things couldn't possibly get worse—

“What do you say we kick things up a notch?” The DJ riles up the crowd and two seconds later, one of the guests is yelling out, “use your teeth!” Pretty soon, the entire reception hall is echoing that same request.

“USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH!”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to react anymore but it concerns you how Kiyoomi’s face just shifted from peeved to aggravated — and you couldn't tell if it’s because of you or the crowd.

“You’re wasting your time, he’s never gonna say yes to that,” one of the groomsmen with light brown hair and round eyebrows answers in your entourage partner’s stead, snatching the garter from Kiyoomi’s hand.

There’s pressure from the audience but you try your hand at reassuring the onlookers. “It’s okay, we can just pick again. Plus, I honestly don’t think he’s up for it.”

You hear him snicker. Did I say something wrong? Shifting your gaze to him, you see that he has already taken off his mask.

“Get on the chair, sweetie.”

You could feel your heart drop in your chest at his behest.

He loosens his own tie. “Let me borrow that for a sec,” he says, turning to the one who took the garment from him.

The crowd whistles. But so far, with how fast-paced the events are unfolding, that’s really the least of your concerns.

He kneels down on one knee and sneaks back a look at you before hooking a finger underneath your dress — lifting it a little and letting it hang on your knees to grant him a better view. You lower your head, trying to hide the redness of your cheeks after being slightly exposed for everyone to see.

He grabs your leg and your breath hitches at the sudden touch of his cold fingertips on your calves. He stretches the garter wide, letting you keep your shoe as he places the garment loose around your ankle. He brings your leg up higher, near his face this time, securing the ivory band between his teeth.

The rhythm of your pulse drowns out whatever music and cheers that could be heard within this very large hall. You’re on the edge of your seat, hands on either side of the chair for your own support, providing him better access for when he gets to spaces that are… tighter.

The brushing sensation of the lace tickles you as he swiftly drags the garter along your shin. He hooks a hand behind your other leg, subconsciously squeezing it when he struggles a little at your knee.

Once more, he slides a finger underneath the hems of your dress. He takes one look at you as if to ask for permission, and you nod at him — prodding him to go on. At that, he slowly lifts the chiffon garment, burying himself underneath it, and you couldn’t stop your shivers from locking your muscles in tight.

Undeniably, you feel your insides coil at his now-dangerous proximity to your private area. You feel the garter hugging your skin tighter when it reaches your upper thigh before it slaps your skin in his release, causing a bolt of heat to shoot down your center.

Abruptly, you feel a sharp sting when something sunk into the soft skin of your thigh as quickly as it left. Your eyes widen for a brief moment, making you bring a hand up to your mouth.

Did he just…

At that he gets out of your dress, standing on his feet. The groom and the bachelors applaud but he seems unaffected by them.

He extends his hand out to you, making you release what breath you didn’t realize you were holding — your eyes dead fixed on each other as he helps you out of your seat.

You’ve since tuned out any noise from the people around you, especially now that you’re distracted by the new, tingling sensation of soft lace rubbing and tickling between your thighs.

The bride comes up to you, hugging you and screaming at you, overjoyed as if whatever the fuck just happened calls for an even bigger celebration than her own wedding. You look for your partner, only to be met with his back as he heads for the exit. That becomes his cue to take his leave, nowhere to be found for the rest of the evening.

…

In the later hours, you barely speak (or rather, barely respond properly) to other people. You’re tipsy from what little amount of wine and cocktails you had drunk and so far, you only seem interested in learning about Sakusa Kiyoomi — how he’s a professional volleyball player for one of Japan’s top leagues and is without a doubt one of the best you’ll ever see in the country.

Your friends even warn you about him being too frank and too clean, but who on earth would complain about the latter? But the thing that you still can’t wrap your head around is the fact that he rarely ever shows interest in just anyone. “He must’ve really liked you, or else he never would have agreed to that,” one of his friends tells you — some words you’re trying to not get too hyped about.

The last of all the absurd wedding traditions is where the groom carries his bride to their room, and you all take that as your signal to leave as well. It’s pretty late but you still haven’t gotten over your high from earlier. And with this place being the same hotel where most guests are checked in, you silently hope to at least bump into him again, checking at every turn as you make your way to your hotel room. But again, he’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re dead set on denying your futile longing if anyone asks.

Feeling uneasy, you get out of your clothes, leaving them and your other belongings on the floor of your bathroom, and find yourself soaking in a warm bath. You’re frustrated — half due to feeling you have unfinished business and half due to the possibility that you’re romanticizing your little encounter more than you should.

The warm bath should’ve helped by now, but the knotting feeling in the pit of your stomach is only welling up inside you. Resting your head on the edge of the tub, you close your eyes, repeating the moments over and over in your head, with each account of the memory almost as potent as when you had experienced it hours ago.

Finishing up in your late-night bath, your attention is called to the sound of your phone receiving a text.

…

Text message from unknown

Today 2:00 AM

:Are you still up?

:I hope you don’t mind. I had Komori ask for your number from the bride.

Komori? You had your guess — or hopes up, more likely. But no way, it couldn’t be.

Who’s this?:

Text message from unknown

Today 2:01 AM

:It’s Kiyoomi. Can I come over?

——

Three hours. It has been nearly three hours since you last saw him.

A dim, ambient yellow emanates from the two lamps on your nightstands, one on either side of the bed, your only sources of light. You sit on the edge of your bed, restless, mindlessly tapping the heel of your foot to the floor, taking deep breaths as your anticipation wells up in your chest.

Five minutes. That was how long it took for you to come up with an answer.

You have done your part in reminding yourself that you just met the man today. You’re blatantly aware that that important bit of information holds him against your better judgment. Even so, you’re meek to dismiss the biggest warning signs over the slightest doubts that… Maybe he means well? I don’t even know what he wants. But what could he possibly want at 2 in the morning?

And as for you, well, what could you possibly want dressing up like that?

…

Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since you replied to his text with your hotel room number.

Clad only in the hotel-provided bathrobe that covers you only up to your thighs, you clump the blue linen fabric in your balled fist, further exposing your thighs, unarmed with the first thing to do or say once he gets here — once he sees how you chose to present yourself.

The suspense is killing you. Your own imagination running amok causes you to put a hand in between your crossed legs. Breaths, labored. Your bottom lip, red and plump from your constant, thoughtless nibbling. And worst of all, your own velvet walls, twitching.

Maybe this is a bad idea, you realize, prompting you to get up and throw on some pants, underwear, anything. Except you’re brought to a halt when…

2:30 AM — it was what it said on the digital clock on your nightstand when you heard three full knocks coming from the other side of the door.

Your body makes an involuntary turn towards the door, striding slowly as you tighten the belt of your robe, a minor sting lacing around your stomach. You can feel blood rushing to your cheeks, heart pulsating when your hand makes contact with the cold doorknob.

After having heard no follow-up nor signal from the other side of the door, you would have believed that your senses fooled you the first time you heard knocking. Would have, if it weren’t for the tall man in a gray hoodie and black sweatpants standing in front of you. It doesn’t surprise you that even in the later hours, his pretty face is still concealed behind a mask.

“It’s you,” you say, partly as a greeting and partly to convince yourself he’s real.

His eyes trail your form from up to down, black orbs deep as night studying you torturously slow. You don’t know what it’s for but you find it safer to assume that it’s judgment coming from him, making you fiddle with your hair, looking away as you’re suddenly conscious of how you look.

“It’s me. Aren’t you gonna let me in, ___?” he inquires, tone as monotonous as ever but you don’t miss the smirk in his voice at his mention of your name. The very first time you hear your name roll off his tongue, it knocks the breath out of your lungs and sends you to a near-cardiac arrest.

You take a step back before turning your back to him, leading the way to your bedroom.

Keeping a clear head proves to be quite the task. You’re careful not to let him detect any nervousness from you but you know that to be a lost cause when the mere sound of the door closing shut behind him causes you to flinch, not to mention the hairs that prickle all over your body when he suddenly runs the back of his fingers along your spine.

You gulp, crossing your arms tight around your chest, covering yourself up a little bit as you gather the courage to even turn around.

Looking at him over your shoulder, you pick up that he’s also somewhat keeping a distance from you. Like he’s waiting for something from you, a signal perhaps? Your lips subconsciously part in your musing but you’re unable to mutter a single word.

Raising a brow at you, he asks, “you’ve got questions?” sounding more like a fact than a query.

“Well, you— uhm… you disappeared all of a sudden…” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers as you turn to face him entirely.

“And?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you reluctantly ask, “I don’t know, I guess I just— where had you gone off to? And… Why did you come over?”

The first time his eyes leave your form, he cranes his head back, hands digging into the pockets of his hoodie as he thinks of an answer. When he doesn’t say anything, you add, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”

“No one’s ever gotten me to be in that kind of position,” he responds and your heart drops over your presumption of where this conversation might lead to.

“Making me go down on my knees and stick my head underneath your skirt like that,” he adds, eyes staring daggers into yours again.

“I didn’t mean for it to… if you’re asking me to apologize then—”

“I’m asking you,” he cuts you off, taking a few steps closer to you, “to be good for me like you were earlier, and then we’ll call it even.”

Your breath hitches as you subconsciously draw one hand to a fist, balling the hems of your robe, feeling a pool of heat growing in your core before you nod your head twice in agreement to his terms.

His figure towers over yours as he tilts your chin up with a finger, “Not like that, ___. I want you to say it.”

“…I’ll be good for you, Kiyoomi.”

Soon, his hands are moving to the bands of his mask but before he could tug on them, you interrupt him. “Wait—” you pause, your eyelashes fluttering, making him cock a brow in response. “Allow me?”

At that, he relaxes his stance, letting you do as you please. One side of his face is golden where the light touches, dark brown where it doesn’t. And for the third time today, you’re rewarded with his soft, captivating features that he tends to deprive others of in his aversion to dirt.

You try to brush off the thought but it’s so hard to dismiss the fact that he’s so good looking. You know you’re never going to get enough of him.

He pulls you in slowly, ridiculously big arms wrapping around you, his touch embedded with a bit of care in contrast to his daggers for words. He presses your tits and stomach flat against his taut stomach as he holds you by the small of your back.

The feeling of need for your mouth to be occupied grows but you wait for him patiently. Even now, his eyes study you, looking as if he has something to say.

“Fuck it,” he cusses after what seemed like a debate in his head. “You’re so pretty.”

If you thought his features looked soft, his lips definitely felt much softer. His kisses are heavy with need, betraying what composure he let on earlier.

You roam your hands across his biceps that feel hard to the touch, hands finding solace on his broad shoulders, melting into his hold as you find the taste of his mouth finer, and far more intoxicating, than the liquors you indulged in today.

He trails a hand lower to grab your ass, unintentionally pulling on the skirt of your robe. You moan into the kiss upon the brush of a cold breeze past your slightly exposed bottom. 

He’s the first to pull away and you whine at the abrupt separation.

“Lie down.” He runs his fingers through his locks while he tries to catch his breath, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, his signature bass deeper than usual. Before you could submit to his request, he places a soft, wet kiss on your cheek, surprising you by pulling on the strings of your robe.

“Kiyoomi!” you whine in your shock, hands automatically crossing over your exposed chest but he pays no mind to it. Instead, he begins to trail kisses from the crook of your neck up to your jaw.

“Mm,” you purr when he hits a sweet spot on your neck, making him attack that same spot repeatedly and oh so tenderly. Your head cranes back to grant him more access to your neck, your own body betraying your resistance earlier.

Your legs feel like jello at this point with every ounce of defiance leaving your body from how good he peppers your skin with his kisses. Kiyoomi knows what you want, and makes sure you know what he wants. 

He kisses the lobe of your ear once, hot breath fanning your ear as he whispers, “You don’t need to hide from me. And weren’t you the one who promised to be good for me?” He kisses your temple. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your robe drop to the floor, doing as you’re told. His eyes explore your body, exposed skin burning underneath his half-lidded gaze. Kiyoomi’s cold fingertips caress your side, calluses leaving a faint trail where he touches. You look away in embarrassment but his hand is quick to capture your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks.

“Eyes on me.” His hand wraps loosely around your neck, thumb stroking your throat, making you swallow a lump of saliva in your submission. Next, he reaches for your breast, placing your nipple in between two fingers as he fondles your tit.

There’s a certain tenderness with the way he handles you. A softness in his touch, in stark contrast to his rough demeanor. Big man that knows just how delicate you are compared to him, like you’re something that needs to be treated with utmost care, that if he’s not careful enough, he just might break you.

“Lie down.” Eyes still fixed on his, you lie down and he mirrors you, towering over you as you prop your elbows on the bed, your knees drawn together, pressing against his stomach. 

“Whenever you’re rea–hha!” You let out a gasp when he pulls you by your thighs closer to the edge of the bed, granting him easy access to your entrance. He gets down on his knees, face dangerously close to your cunt. “Keep still, I want to try something.”

“What are you—”

Kiyoomi parts your knees abruptly, eliciting a whimper from you. “Kiyoomi, please,” you whine, he looks at you briefly before turning back to your cunt. He releases a breathy grunt upon seeing your pussy so wet and puffy, clenching before him. Warm breath wafts across your folds before he takes a whiff. “Lavender, huh? Were you preparing?”

Your knees attempt to contract upon his inquiry, but he pins your legs down on both sides.

“This is embarrassing, Kiyoomi.”

“Omi. And I’m sure it is. Who would have guessed that sweet, harmless ___ would lie down in bed, spread wide open for me?” he teases, running his thumb along your slippery slit, making you bite down on your lower lip, eyes rolling back when he starts to rub slow circles on your clit. “Sweet ___, drenched in your own juices, when I haven’t even gotten to half of what I plan to do to you.”

“Ff-fuuuck,” your moans drag out, betraying your own words. “O-omi–mm,” you coo, humming when he inserts two fingers inside you easily, slowly fucking your hole. Your hips buck in a poor attempt to ride his hand, arching when he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Hm?” he asks before slowly swiping his tongue side to side, alternating between sucking and playing with your clit, and he realizes just how vocal you can get with your purring now filling the room.

“Ha—Omi, I need—hm,” your words are coming out incoherent with how good Kiyoomi’s tongue feels on your clit, but it’s not quite enough. “Fuuuck, fuck me, Omi, please, fuck,” you whisper and it feels like a prayer on your lips, starting to feel your orgasm building up. But right when your hole begins to spasm, Kiyoomi pulls his tongue back, fucking you with a third digit, and you wince at the slight tear.

“What is it, ___?” seeing the smirk plastered on his face causes your entire face to burn up, and at this point, you realize that he’s insistent on making you last out.

“I want to see you too, please.”

…

As if Kiyoomi eating you out isn’t enough to push you over the edge, watching him strip out of his clothes is a whole experience in itself. He’s built as you would expect a professional athlete, but seeing all of him, bare, in the flesh sends your core throbbing in excitement. And though the thought of him being big shouldn’t come as a surprise, you’re forced to inhale air through gritted teeth upon seeing what he packs beneath his trousers — long, girthy, and veiny — fully erect with the tip glinting with precum. Oh he’s big, alright.

His curls drop to his forehead when he looks down, rolling a condom over his hard shaft. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’ve been practically eye-fucking him. “It’s rude to stare, pretty (nickname),” he says with sarcasm hinted in his voice. Even after seeing each other naked, after letting him taste you, you still feel the need to look away, flustered from just his words.

He aligns himself at your entrance, laughing through his nose at your adorable flushed state. He tilts your chin to look at him, your blown-out irises meeting his black ones. “I told you to look at me, didn’t I?”

“I-I am. Please, Omi.”

He crouches down to your level, muscles crunching and contracting with every movement, hands propping beside you, trapping you as he captures your lips gingerly. Your stomach locks in tight with the light slap of his dick on top of it. Your fingers instinctively wrap around it making him grunt into the deepening kiss. He bucks into your hand, hard cock slippery from the condom but he suddenly pulls out with dissatisfaction all over his face.

“Fuck it. I want to feel all of you,” he says as he impatiently discards the condom. Not a second later, he recaptures your mouth and your hand forms a ring once again around his dick. His cock feels warmer to the touch, slick with his own precum. Kiyoomi clearly finds it better this way, humming into the kiss as he lets you pump his dick.

Next thing you know, he’s on his feet, him in all his 6 '4 might, towering over you. You sit up and you find your face levelled with his cock. Through thick lashes you look up at him, jerking his shaft wet as you prop your free hand on his hip.

He welcomes that look on you. If he isn’t, he wouldn’t be sweeping your hair behind your ear. The corner of his lip upturns as if he wishes to entertain the thought you just had.

You really just want to please him.

Eyes looking up at him, you slide the expanse of your tongue up and down across his shaft, mirroring how he ate you out earlier, tip of your tongue flicking at his foreskin.

“Hm,” he huffs out, head craning back, cussing and grunting from how good your tongue feels.

“I want to make you feel good, Omi,” you say, with a glint of bashfulness in your voice.

With steady breaths, you try to take as much of him as you can, but you’re only able to take in not even half of his cock when you feel a slight gag behind your throat. You take a deep breath through your nose to control your reflex. “Fuuuck,” Kiyoomi groans, cock feeling tight around your throat and to say your own pussy is drenched is an understatement. You know just how much you’ve been making a mess as you grind on the sheets. 

With tears beginning to prickle your eyes, you bob your head, hand pumping his dick as an extension of your mouth. Kiyoomi’s hand caresses the side of your face while you fill yourself up with his cock. His abs begin to flex even harder in front of you in an attempt to prevent himself from fucking your throat. He knows you just wouldn’t be able to take it.

The second he feels his cock throb he pulls out of you.

“Stop,” he says it more to himself really, unwilling to finish in your mouth. “Sorry, we made a little mess.” He uses his thumb to wipe off the mix of precum and drool that dripped to the side of your face. His expression, both stoic and yet oh, so endearing. You suppose it’s part of his allure, him coming off ominous even as he peppers you with tenderness.

“You really are lovely, ___, and I’m going to cum in you, not your mouth,” he tells you so matter-of-factly, to which you can only nod in obedience.

He pushes you by your chest gently, making you lie down and wrap your legs around his waist. And without warning, he thrusts all of his cock inside you, making you scream both in pleasure and pain, your own wetness allowing him to slide into you with ease but it doesn’t help with the stretch. It’s not an exaggeration to say he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. And his pace is unforgiving, orienting you with the stamina of a professional athlete.

“O-omi,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as you clutch onto his biceps. His length leaves your walls almost as soon as he pounds balls deep into you. Moments later, your pain turns purely into pleasure, finding yourself smiling in your own euphoric high the more he thrusts into you, hitting your sweet spot.

“If only you could see how pretty you look when you’re being so good to me, taking my cock like that.” He rests his forehead on top of yours, his dark eyes hooded and boring into you, planting soft and sloppy kisses in between sentences.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop–” Your brain is rewired by his cock with every roll of his hips. Every new detail of him is a new engraving in your memory, and every memory of him is an experience – from the sight of his soft curls beginning to stick slick to his forehead, the feeling of his biceps contracting beneath your palms, the clashing sounds of your moans against his grunts and shallow breathing, to every wet slap of his hips on your cunt.

You can’t get enough of him. The obscene thought of fucking a man you had just met and know so little of should have scared you. But it is, without a doubt, bringing you over the edge, making your walls knot at the very fact.

You start to feel tears well up in your eyes when he hooks your legs around his arms, and you become a teary-eyed, whining mess at the ample friction on both your clit and your g-spot.

“You’re even prettier when folded, fuck.” His mouth is on yours once again, tongue so familiar with your own at this point. He props himself up higher as he wantonly jerks his hips to brush over your clit. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Omi!” arching into him, you crane your head back as you let out a high-pitched cry of his name, your walls fluttering as you come undone around his cock, nails burying crescents into his skin, and you swear you hear Kiyoomi utter a curse under his breath.

And he doesn’t stop fucking you. He keeps a steady rhythm, coaxing the buildup of your second orgasm seconds after your first.

“I-I want to make you feel good too, Omi, please,” you chirp, utterly intent on committing to your promise.

“You do feel good, baby.” You try with all your might to answer but your walls are too busy coiling as he fucks you through your second high. “You don’t know how good your tight pussy feels around my cock.” The corners of his mouth turn upwards, and albeit only slightly, the sight of it is a high in itself.

Before you know it, he’s able to prop himself up with one hand on a side plank, roughly rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers, and you’re losing your mind over how he keeps hitting your g-spot while he teases your sensitive bud. Your erratic heartbeat all but fills your chest when you notice his pace has gotten uneven, his breath, shaky.

“Omi, I’m-I’m—” He takes one full thrust in you, releasing the loudest groan he’s had tonight. His cock twitches inside of you, stuffing you full of his hot cum, preventing you from finishing your sentence when you reach your own high at the same time as his. His propelled hand doesn’t falter even when he’s on the brink of collapse from his own orgasm, and you can tell he’s avoiding crushing you with his form.

He pants, slowly pulling out of you, and flops as he rests his head on top of your stomach, the both of you taking a second to catch your breaths.

He plants a kiss on your stomach before he leaves you briefly, heading towards the bathroom. You close your eyes for a bit, devoid of strength to worry about him leaving you. You jolt up when you suddenly feel a towel on your cunt.

“Hold still,” he tells you for the second or third time today, finding him cleaning up the cum that’s beginning to drip out of your pussy. And at this point, you’ve lost count of the number of times he has taken you by surprise.

Once done, he makes his way back to the bathroom to dispose of the used towel properly, making you chuckle at how even when he’s exhausted to the brim, his own tendencies never leave him.

Finally, he sits down and takes the space beside you. Still catching his breath with his back slightly hunched, he stares forward at nothing.

You, on the other hand, know better by now than to probe him, and so you wait for him to speak his mind.

“No lie. I really thought you were the prettiest earlier,” he confesses all of a sudden and you almost feel your eyes popping out of their sockets. “Still do.”

“What… happens now?” Truth be told, you really didn’t want to bring it up, but the question has since welled up in your stomach even before he fucked all rhyme and reason out of your brain.

“I wanna try something else,” he utters, “something where I get to wake up next to you in the morning.” And you realize you were worried for nothing.

Smiling to yourself, you respond, “I’d like that.”

[annwrites]

give me your wrists.

— pairing: dark!jacaerysvelaryon x femservant!reader

— type: one-shot (?)

— summary: jace spoils you in many ways.

— tw: dub-con

— word count: 960

— tagging list: @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld

Cool metal slides around your throat, rows of shimmering rubies resting atop your breasts.

Your eyes widen as you stare at yourself in the looking glass. "Jace!"

You swiftly turn around to him, only to find a pleased smirk upon his lips. He knew you would have this reaction. Sometimes you think that's why he does it.

He gently runs his knuckles along your soft, warm cheek. "Yes, my sweet?"

Your hand comes up to caress the jewels. "I don't need rubies. Or—or sapphires, or emeralds, diamonds, or—"

"Pearls, then," he interjects with a raised brow. "No, nevermind that. I already purchased you a string of them. Mayhaps something with amethyst next, then?"

You stare up at him in bewilderment. "Jacaerys, this is too much. All of it."

He firmly grips your chin between his fingertips. "It pleases me to gift you fine things. To spoil you. So let me."

He shrugs. "It is an order. Given by your prince."

You stand, wishing to make him see sense. "The gowns—silk and gossamer and tulle. I cannot so much as wear them outside this room, lest someone suspect. Lest they...lest your mother, or Baela, even, discover I am your—your concubine."

He steps a small step closer, leaning down as his fingers slide along the back of your head, burying themselves in your curls.

"Perhaps I should set her aside, then," he states, leaning down, pressing his lips to your pulse, his experienced tongue flicking against it.

He always does this when you try to have any sort of serious discussion about the potential repercussions for the things the two of you have been doing in his bed.

He distracts you.

With sex.

"You cannot jest about such things," you say, your voice a breathless sigh.

His lips come to hover over your own. "I never stated I was."

He presses his lips to your own then, not wishing to hear further arguments. He desires to have his way with you instead.

Again.

He grips you beneath your thighs, carrying you back over to his mattress—the sheets already covered in the both of you from your early-morning escapades—and he thrusts back inside of you.

He grips your chin in one hand, holding your lips to his as his other fists the soiled sheets while he finds his pleasure inside of you.

His skin slaps against yours, your soft breasts bouncing with every thrust of his long member.

Tears prick your eyes at the feeling of overstimulation. "Jace," you say quietly, his lips moving back to your neck as your fingers tangle in his hair. "We've been at it all morn. I—Gods—I'm so sore."

He places his lips near your ear. "I'm not nearly satiated, my love."

You whimper, your chin wobbling. "Please."

He kisses your cheek softly, slamming into you, causing you to sob. "Dragons have large appetites. Mine own will require quite a great deal more attention this day."

"How many—mm—more?"

He presses soft kisses to your tear-stained cheeks. "As many as your prince commands."

"I have finished as it is, ah, five times. Please, Jacaerys."

He glances toward the head of the bed, and then back to you. "Do you wish to use our agreed upon word, then?"

You sniffle, considering. And then you shake your head.

"Give me your wrists."

You stare up at him, your lower lip trembling. "Oh, Gods, not again..."

He takes each of them in-hand, slipping them through familiar loops, tightening. He stands, slick cock slipping out of you and bouncing between his thighs as he repeats the same with your ankles at the foot of the bed.

You watch as he begins to stroke himself, a pounding pulse settled between your thighs now.

He runs his thumb along his weeping tip. "Do you not wish to please me?"

A tear slips down your cheek, followed by another. "I do."

"Then this is how you should achieve it. By being at my complete disposal."

He sits on the edge of the bed, slipping two fingers inside your fiery heat, his seed still leaking out of you from earlier.

He arches upward, gently massaging, and your body jerks in response to his touch.

"It hurts, it hurts!"

He ignores your cries as he presses down with his palm, continuing to tease you, fingers slowly easing out and then back in.

"Gods, I don't...ah, I don't think I can take much more."

He leans down, sucking on your clit for a moment before sitting back up. "You've no other choice."

He begins to frantically fuck you then with his long digits, your limbs tightening, pulling against the ropes, but he knows: you are not going anywhere.

Trying to quiet yourself does little good. You alternate between sighs and groans of pain, and squeals of elation.

He circles his thumb over your swollen, pulsating clit and you gasp. "Please stop, not there!"

He ignores your desperate pleas as he continues, your hands twisting around the ropes, your toes curling.

He presses down on your stomach harder and you stare up at him as you cry. "Jace, please!"

"Nearly there. I can always tell," is all he cares to respond with.

You body tightens, your velvet walls quickly contracting.

"Oh Gods, no. No, please! Not again! I can't, not again!"

"Māzigon."

"Gods, please stop!" You scream as you orgasm, liquid spilling from your cunt, further soaking his already damp sheets as the ropes pull taught.

You begin to bawl then. "It hurts so badly. Please, untie me. I am begging you, My Prince."

He leans over you, readying himself. "As I said, it will be as many times as I command."

With that, he submerges himself inside of you, kissing away your tears, mentally making a note to buy you earrings of amethyst as reward on the morrow.

[selineram3421]

*new version of Alastor takes over the Internet* Hehe.

Cursed Cat Headcanons

Curse Cat Alastor & Human Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mentions of death, "normal" cat stuff ⚠

You find a strange looking cat at the shelter.

The red creature was separated from the other cats and behind a heavy duty glass with multiple scratch marks.

"Can I interact with this one?", you asked.

"I don't think we are allowed to let that one out...", the worker says. "We're not even sure if its a cat."

You were also not sure as the little creature had antlers.

"Might have been dead this morning.", they mumbled but you caught it.

"Uh...ok.", you say, feeling a little put off how calmly the employee said that. "I'll take them."

And that's how you got a cat.

Once having the necessary items and a cat tower order placed, you bring the red cat home.

It sounds a bit angry. Growling, hissing, scratching and biting the inside of the cat carrier.

Maybe they didn't like small spaces..

Their first day was...something.

You ended up having to fix or toss out a lot of furniture.

They seemed to like sitting on top of your bookshelf. Often watching as you cleaned around the room or when you slept.

Kinda creepy. And you swore you saw their eyes glow once.

But other than the strange shadows and weird noises, you didn't have problems. In fact, they took care of the spiders and other pesky bugs that managed to get into your home.

Eventually, you tried to call them by names from a list that you made but they mostly ignored you whenever you tried.

It wasn't until you were watching Hazbin Hotel that the red cat perked up.

"I'm Alastor!", your favorite character introduced himself.

The red creature then hopped onto your coffee table and stared at you, effectively grabbing your attention.

"What is it?", you asked before noticing your T.V. glitch and loop.

"I'm Alastor!", it said again. "¡'m Al@$tør!", it started to distort. "Ĭ̢̜͝'m̬̟̑͗ Á̘͉̉l͈̯̾̀á̘͉̉s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒t͙́ó͎̥͡ṙ̻!", the audio was getting worse and worse as it repeated. "ł'₥ ₳Ⱡ₳₴₮ØⱤ."

Glancing at your cat, you noticed it was grinning like the oh so famous cheshire cat.

"Uh..Alastor?", you said.

As soon as you called them the name, the episode continued to play regularly and your cat had its normal happy demeanor.

"Ok...", you paused the show and went to the kitchen for snacks. "I might have picked up a cursed cat."

After that, Alastor actually seemed to like you. No longer hissing or scratching you when you tried to pet them and sought you out for some cuddles.

Hehehehe..

You had to take him to the vet for a check up and well.. It turned out exactly how you expected it to. Also, you found out they were a he.

He was number one..of the worsts cats in the vet hospital's care. They had to order new gloves meant for hawks.

After that, you got him a little bow to match the character Alastor and he seemed to really enjoy it. Of course, the red cat was quite fluffy and only the bow part was visible.

The cat tower finally arrived and you set it up. It was mostly black, coming with a feather toy as well.

"Done!", you stepped back and smiled at the finished cat tower.

Of course, like any cat, Alastor was not amused. Sitting in the packaging box comfortably.

"You know what? I'm not even mad. I used to sit in boxes as a kid.", you said and cleaned up the bubble wrap.

Things were turning out pretty well. That is until your neighbor got a weird looking pet. Now you knew Alastor was strange but he looked like a cat. Whatever the neighbor has was something else.

It was black with blue and some red. Flat looking face and a strange tail.

Maybe it was an exotic animal?

You weren't sure but Alastor hated, HATED, them.

And you made sure not to walk your little furball when the other pet was out. Making that mistake once. Once being enough.

I bestow upon ye cat Alastor!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @aria-tempest @alastor-simp @willowaudreykeyes @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙️

[polarisjisung]

MAKEUP, MAKE OUT

synopsis: somewhere between testing eyeshadow palettes and mascara wands, renjun tests the prospect of loving you

wc: 1k

pairings: best friend!renjun × fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none (I hope)

notes: not proofread so there's bound to be some typos

As renjun finds you positioned between his legs, tapping a light brown shade of shimmer over his eyelids, he can't help but wonder how he'd explain the situation should anybody walk in.

How could he explain the fact that his best friend was quite literally seated on his bed straddling him, so close that from any other perspective you'd look at least half way into a heated makeout session, perhaps something more.

Your hot breath fanning his neck, and his own two eyes helplessly trailing over your soft features, he couldn't bring himself to look away. Each and every time he'd find his gaze falling upon your lips, a deep shade of pink. He wanted to kiss you, he realises.

Best friends didn't do that.

Renjun wonders why the thought even comes into mind or why today was the day, despite your countless other attempts at getting him to agree to let you do his makeup, that he'd said yes.

Though he doesn't have to search particularly far for the answer when you tell him to keep still for the nth time

"stay still jun, ugh, nana would've been a much more compliant client"

Renjun could barely stand the thought of you looking jaemin's way, let alone being half as close as you were with him right now, with those long lashes of na jaemin's, that girls would always fawn over, fluttering so prettily in front of you.

"nana huh" he scoffs, great, you're on a nickname basis now

"so moody" you roll your eyes, somehow still smiling down at the boy who wore a frown on his lips, "you're lucky you look pretty" you laugh.

Your laugh is loud, not in an obnoxious sort of way, but in an unapologetically you sort of way, that renjun loved to hear, knowing you opted for softer, quieter and nowhere near as genuine laughs in public. Some part of him glad that this was a laugh only reserved for him.

"you're saying I need makeup to look pretty?" renjun wonders if you can notice the pink creeping up across his face and spreading over his cheeks, hoping you'd think it was simply the blush you had applied a little earlier.

"of course not, I think you're the prettiest right when you wake up" you don't mean to let it slip, a small piece of information you would've liked to think he could have lived without knowing, softly patting the powder against his skin.

"well I think you're pretty all the time" his lips turn upwards slightly, his hands finding your waist "my pretty girl"

you barely seem to notice as he whispers under his breath, too focused on deciding which lips colour would suit him best, the slight crinkle of your brows no less than adorable

Like every best friend had, he'd thought of the possibility of more, with great consideration.

He'd thought about how walking around with your fingers intertwined rather than an arm lazily thrown over your shoulder might've felt, how introducing you as his girlfriend instead of a girl friend could make his heart leap out of his chest and perhaps most importantly how the thought of seeing you with someone else had him balling up his fists and grinding his own teeth against each other.

He knew he liked you, it hadn't been hard to admit to himself, but somehow it didn't seem so easy with you.

"renjun?" you call for the nth time, "which one do you think is better?" you alternate between the two tubes of liquid lipstick, "one or two?" but yet again, renjun seems to be in his own world, eyes glued onto you and yet somehow he's not listening to you at all.

"jun, you're staring" you wave an arm in front of him

he wonders where he'd given up trying to hide how he felt for you, a lazy smirk lining his lips,

"I am" this time, pulling you closer by the belt loops of your jeans, so your chest is flush against his "my pretty girl"

you hum, reaching for a soft brown lip liner

"what are we?" he asks before you can connect the pencil to his lips, shiny eyes causing your breath to catch in your throat

"best friends"

and for the first time ever, renjun finds himself absolutely loathing the confident tone of your voice. How after all these intimate moments, and far too many not so best friend like thoughts did you not see a thing

"have you ever thought about more?" you're scared to nod, but your head moves faster than you can let out the word no and suddenly it seems honesty is the best policy

"I don't think we've been just best friends for a while now" renjun smiles as the words fall from your lips, music to his ears

"then let me ask you again, what are we?"

"you know what we are jun" your voice is softer than before, an airiness to it that renjun finds himself basking in the warmth of.

"I want— no I need you to say it" his voice has reduced to whispers now, lips centimetres apart

"what if I showed you instead"

his thumb traced over you bottom lip, a soft "okay" muttered under his breath as his hands reached up to cup your face, your lips pressed against his in an instant.

he smiles against your lips, another kiss pressed to your lips before he forces himself back.

"you have no idea how much I've been waiting for this moment" he begins to pepper soft kisses across your face, finally leaning in again, this time taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

You wouldn't dare let him pull away, your breaths deep and rushed as you find your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, strawberry lips perfectly locked with your own.

but when you do take a moment to breathe, your eyes land on a starry-eyed huang renjun staring up at you, looking like the prettiest mess you'd ever seen.

[achromatophoric]

It’s late night at Nevermore Academy. A quietly seething Enid leads a disheveled Wednesday back to their room.

Wednesday: So you see, mi amor, there was never anything to worry about. I have returned unharmed and Weems suspects nothing, precisely as I had planned. As some would say, “no harm, no fowl.”

Enid: *shuts door and glares at Wednesday*

Wednesday: Not even a smile, Querida? Did you not notice that I made a joke?

Enid: Yes, Wednesday. You were investigating werechickens. Ha. Ha.

Wednesday: Werecassowaries. They are significantly more dangerous and… uh…

Enid: *upgrades to death glare*

Wednesday: *swallows* So. Ah. I did not mean to disturb your sleep. Why don’t we—

For the first time, Wednesday notices the mess on her bed. Feathers and fluff in ghastly mimicry of an animal ruined beyond recognition.

Wednesday: What. What is this?

Dark eyes study the mess, then shift to explore the rest of the scene. They alight upon the bird plush that sits atop her desk. The doll, one of a pair of ravens that Enid gifted Wednesday after their first date, is in its assigned location, but its twin? Missing.

Wednesday: Muninn? Where is— oh. Oh no.

Enid: *watches*

Wednesday: What befell Muninn? Who— *breath catches* —who would perform such an appalling act of vandalism? Why??

Enid: Poor, poor Muney. This is like, so tragic. Ya know, I think I might have an idea of what happened.

Wednesday: You… do? *stares at Enid*

Enid: Sure! You see, I heard from the other stuffies that Muney was being a bad raven.

Wednesdays: Oh?

Enid: Yuppers. Muney was being naughty. Muney had promised his best friend Fenrir that he’d stay out of trouble. *nods towards her bed*

The aforementioned wolf plush is perched atop the pile of its cuddly brethren. Enid pauses for effect, then continues.

Enid: Muney swore up and down that he’d at least like, stop lying so that Fenrir wouldn’t stay up all night worrying about him.

Wednesday: Omission is techni—

Enid: *snarls* Don’t. EVEN.

Wednesday: *shuts the fuck up*

Enid: So what was cute, sweet, and endlessly patient Fenrir supposed to even do? When she discovered that Muney had, once again, broken her promise to KEEP me IN the FUCKing LOOP!

Wednesday: *pales*

Enid: *deep breath* So. Poor little Muney fucked up. Poor little Muney was so proud and thought she was so smart. Now look at her! All bits and pieces. Broken legs, broken body. Her entire supply of exotic poisons, flushed down the toilet.

Wednesday: M-my—

Enid: SHUT IT.

Wednesday: *honest to God cringes*

Enid: Muney is fucking lucky that Fenrir is so damned generous, because, why look that, Hugey is still in once piece. Hugey and her fancy. Antique. Knife collection.

Wednesday: *totally whimpers*

Enid: So if Muney knows what’s good for her, she’ll what?

Wednesday: Sh-she’ll be honest with F-Fenrir and uphold her p-promises.

Enid: And?

Wednesday: And she is tr-truly and deeply sorry for ever worrying her beloved wolf. Mi sol furiosa, upon m-my honor as an Addams, I shall endeavor to never malign your trust again.

Enid: 🤨

Wednesday: … and I love you?

Enid: Aw, Willa! I. Love. You. Too! And of course I accept your apology. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. You look beat!

Wednesday:

[zhongrin]

so that even the world does not doubt that you are mine

— aka their ways to stake their 'claim' on you (in a cute and wholesome way)

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, ayato, childe, xiao, diluc, wanderer, cyno, al haitham

◇ tags ◇ teeth-rotting stomach-hurting fluff, dragon!li, childe calls himself your puppy

◇ a/n ◇ *throws this at yall after the angst last week* HERE'S YOUR THERAPY BILLS /j

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

aside from the obvious way he gravitates around you whenever you’re in public - sometimes with his arm resting on your back and other times with yours looped around his - zhongli never does tell you but he has a little ritual he never fails to perform every morning before he goes his merry way to the funeral parlor.

they do not look like much from a normal person’s perspective, but had you listened religiously to all the tales he told you throughout your relationship, you would have understood the ancient gestures’ meanings to the dragons of the olden days.

today too is no exception; he lets you run your delicate fingers up his proud, battle-scarred horns as you clean them before moving on to clip his hair with his usual hairclip. at the end of it all, he thanks you with a soft nip to your nape.

“there you go. all set. thank you, dearest. have a good day, and i’ll see you again at lunch later, yes?”

ayato believes that the way one dresses - at least in public that is - could make or break a business deal or a potential ally, therefore, he always upholds himself to dress sophistically at all times. and while he normally does not force you to follow this belief, the number of clothing articles and the finest accessories gracing your doorstep could get a little burdensome…

but the moment he sees you out and about with that specific haori he custom-tailored just for you, its color scheme and the fine embroidery literally screaming ‘kamisato clan’? hmmm… perhaps if wearing them would make him this happy, you should consider doing it more often?

“that haori looks lovely on you, darling. hmm? people were being more polite than usual today, you say? haha, i’d say they were besotted by your loveliness, dear. soft blues and whites have always looked good on you, afterall.”

childe might be a good actor, but sadly his subordinates are not.

so it really isn’t a surprise when, after befriending the harbinger, you open your door to see a fatui agent conspicuously spying on you right across your lawn.

and when you started dating?

it got worse.

it didn’t even take you a full day to count all five agents trailing after you like lost puppies. you would have thought they learned to disguise themselves after all these times, but no. they look horribly out of place with their huge weapons and flashy uniforms. sure, they’re fulfilling their purpose by being flashy, but you’d prefer if people don’t run away from you in fear whenever you try to talk to them!

…. it seems like it’s time to give them a crash course on how to dress and act more inconspicuously.

“did the dogs misbehave today? no? i’m glad!! ….. still, you sound like you’re getting fond of them…. hey, i’m still your number one puppy, right? right??”

there are no such things as adepti’s blessings, and yet you carry xiao’s with you everywhere you go.

not that you’re aware of it.

but it shows. it's indicated by the remnants of anemo energy trailing upon your steps. of how his trinkets clink gently against your accessories, always subtle and never too intruding, effectively shooing the evil spirits vying upon possessing your body. in the way the breeze hums gently as it listens to all of the sounds surrounding you, silently protecting, watching, vigilant.

though he might not be able to watch you 24/7, xiao will always continue to make tremendous efforts to keep you safe.

“welcome back. i’m glad you had a good day today.”

a walking contradiction, this one.

wanderer says he does not enjoy being stared at as you walk through the market, yet he scowls when people ignore him in favor of talking to you instead. he says he does not enjoy sweet food and yet he continues to kiss you, tells you that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, silently pleading for more with the insistent chase of his lips when you retreat. he says he doesn’t feel the need to announce your relationship to the public eye, and yet the moment someone gets just a little bit too friendly with you, he’s there, almost hissing like an angry cat chancing upon a dog wagging their tail at his unsuspecting owner - his hand settles on your and his hip sticks onto yours, and if looks could kill the unfortunate soul would have been blown a thousand feet into the air and falling rapidly to its demise a hundred times over.

“…… hah! coward. shouldn't have coveted what you can’t have. stupid human. wh- the hell are you doing?! stop pinching my cheek! and how many times do i have to tell you that i’m not ‘cute’!”

him staking his claim on you? ha. elementary. no, no, no. the tcg legendary player uses an uno reverse card on this one. in everyone else’s eyes, there is no doubt that he is yours.

the way cyno wears your accessories whenever he’s out on duty (it matters not if it “doesn’t match” his aesthetics - he claims seeing it on himself gives him a sense of peace), the speech ticks and the mannerisms he adopts from you (tighnari was the one who picked up on it; he thinks it’s very adorable), the way he walks about sumeru city with a bunch of padisarahs in hand, tied with a ribbon of your favorite color (and more often than not, with a bag of your favorite drinks or snacks in his other hand)…

... and most of all, the way a gentle smile always spreads on his lips when someone mentions your name.

“[name]…………. hm…... come on, tighnari. i need to finish this job. what? you think we can get this done before dinner? that's ridiculous. we will finish it by lunchtime. now, get moving.”

diluc is so hesitant to stake his claim on you most days, but after a while, it comes almost naturally to him.

he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but the way he refers to you as his whenever your name comes up in conversations is so smooth, people could easily miss it if they don’t pay enough attention to his words. from “my spouse? yes, they’re doing fine” to “adelinde, where has my beloved gone off to? they weren’t in the study room”, he has mastered the subtle art of painting you as one of his people in others’ eyes, but on the contrary, the implied message is clear - “if you hurt them, i will not hesitate to take action.”

“my betrothed? no, they’re not with me today. but if you need to tell them something, you can always tell me and i’ll relay it to them.”

whenever he is not within the walls of his new office, al haitham is always seen with you.

in the bustling streets of sumeru, the acting grand sage sticks by your side, sometimes with his hand holding yours, or with you sticking to him like a koala under that cape of his. if one stops by the grand bazaar, they would see him carrying bags upon bags of items as you try to haggle for the 'exorbitant’ amount of mora needed to buy a pack of allspices. and whenever one happens to take a spontaneous stroll in the lush woods surrounding the city, they might stumble to the two of you stargazing, with your head pillowed on your lover’s arm, his expression smoothed out in serene bliss.

there is no mistaking your relationship, for the whole population of sumeru could unanimously agree even without the now-obsolete akasha terminal’s guide: he is yours just as you are his.

“tsk. it is outside office hours right now, i- hm? ah- i… see. you merely wished to inform me where [name] is? very well. this does not mean i will approve of the proposal for your darshan.” “.... but i will at least extend my gratitude and check on it latest by the end of office hours tomorrow.”

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[courtofblooming]

favorite elriel quotes ! 💭ྀིྀིྀ

art by: stephdaydreams & trxxvon_

“A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent” — acomaf

“Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly? “Yes. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said — acomaf

“And I think Elain — Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” “I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.” — acomaf

“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.” — acowar

“He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” — acowar

“She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded — just once.” — acowar

“Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” — acowar

“Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.” — acowar

“Already dressed for the Hewn City — the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” — acowar

“What if — I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden —“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?” — acowar

“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.” — acowar

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now — unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” — acowar

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.” — acowar

“While shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.” — acowar

“But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” “From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” — acowar

“Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” — acowar

“I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her.” “Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” “She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.” — acowar

“Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.” — acowar

“The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest.” — acowar

“Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.” — acowar

“Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” “Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard.” — acowar

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” — acowar

“Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade — Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.” — acowar

“Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.” “I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.” — acowar

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.” — acowar

“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows. “She won’t listen.” — acofas

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.” — acofas

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account,” she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.” — acofas

“The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s — He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. “I’ve never participated in one of these.” — acofas

“The shadowsinger’s brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.” “I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” — acofas

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” — acofas

“Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the glass bottle from Azriel’s hand and examining it. “Brilliant,” Cassian said. — acofas

“Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.” — acofas

“It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.” — acofas

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.” — acosf

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain's face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.” — acosf

“Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace.” — acosf

“Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” — acosf

“Nesta met the shadowsinger's stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain's breath caught slightly.” — acosf

“The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.” — acosf

“Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year — a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.” — acosf

“Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.” — acosf

“But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see...He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.” — acosf

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary — its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.” — acosf

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" — acosf

“His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.” — acosf

“He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a long time fastening the clasp.” — acosf

“It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong - it was so wrong. He didn't care.” — acosf

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue” — acosf

“Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there.” "I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave. “Yes," he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.” — acosf

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again.” — acosf

“Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things far beyond their scars.” — acosf

"Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.” — acosf

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.” “Offer and permission.” — acosf

“Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.”

“But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.”

“He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.” — acosf

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” — acosf

the end.

[dinadearine]

Those eyes

Mizu x Mommy!reader

I'M DROOLING IN HAPPINESS

tags: pure fluff, slight gore/violence

btw this is quite short, i'm literally multitasking HAHA

INSERT SONG ON LOOP: Those eyes (new west)

...

Meeting mizu was your greatest memory.

Ambushed, you cried as you held your son in your arms, he was only a day old, your husband didn't even look back to save you, nor help you, he ran away, leaving you and your son trapped and surrounded by cold-blooded assassins.

That's when Mizu jumped in action, she was passing by, yes, she is travelling at this dark hour of the night, passing through isolated cabins, she heard a scream, in which she quickly ran into where danger is, her eyes narrows as she catched a glimpse of a troubled man, running away, she ignored him and ran straight into the house, her eyes gazes upon every enemy, unsheathing her sword, and aiming it at them, her eyes landed on you, a helpless young mother, weeping in fear keeping your son safe in your arms.

she swiftly ran torwards you, keeping you close as she continues to provide protection with you and your child, you sob, embracing your child as mizu guides you to an exit door, once you left, all you could see is red, painting and spews the inside of your house, men screaming in pain, yet all you could see is just their silhouettes, it was the most mortifying sight, you kept yourself from staring and ran further, comforting the child crying in your arms.

you sat under a tree, the sky turning from dark stars, into sunkissed red, your eyes wide from the traumatic experience you've been through, cradling the child, your son, in your arms, you hum a tune mindlessly, as you stare at the sunset, tears already dry on your cheeks. Suddenly a voice called out, not a kind tone, nor danger, you turned your head to the side, peeping from the corner of your eyes.

"Are you alright?" a familiar figure, it's him, you sob, you carefully stood up, not daring to wake your sleeping son in your arms, you couldn't speak, all you could do and silently weep and lean into the man's frame.

Mizu was caught off guard, not knowing what to do, and never developed a comforting side, she simply placed a hand on your back, hushing you gently. "Come with me.. I'll protect you." she whispered, her tone rather hesitant, you complied and followed her.

~~~

Now sitting next to mizu, her cradling your child in her arms, it's been six months, you showed yourself to her, and she showed her own, she wasn't cold, she was only.. Broken.

"just gently swing him side to side.." you whispered, patting mizu's thigh, she nods before she stood up, and gently sways the baby, all the way to a wide area, where trees provided sun rays to hit her striking blue eyes.

She continued to cradle the baby to sleep, yet the baby giggled and squirms, she is frustrated, yet her eyes filled with adoration, you watched her smile, she was treating your son like her own, your heart swelled in both admiration, and love.

you walk up to her, a wide smile plastered on your weary face as you whispered "You're doing great.." Mizu looks at you, a rare smile you rarely see, your cheeks flush, you feel so safe with her, it warms your heart so much.

"Thank you.. " She whispered back, her eyes still locked in yours, the baby starts to drift off to sleep, you watched her closely, she looks so ethereal, you never thought falling for a woman is this perfect.

she is perfect.

you slowly stepped closer to pull mizu in a soft yet comforting embrace. "You're perfect..." you whispered, her cheeks heats up, not used in receiving compliments, she feels strange, yet she couldn't deny the sudden attraction she felt torwards you, she was hesitant about her vowed journey of vengeance, luckily she decided to manage about it later as she leaned down to rest her forehead against yours.

"I love you."

those words, it hit you right in the guts, you've never felt so happy in your whole life, your hero, your savior, your lover, gently leaned further down and kissed you, you haven't realized your crying, you accepted the kiss, her lips is surprisingly soft against yours, you sobbed as you finally get to live with her, with your lover.

"I love you too, Mizu."

[leighsartworks216]

I Was Hoping You'd Find Me Here

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Inspired by how Harvey goes from saying "I was hoping you wouldn't find me here" to "I was hoping you'd find me here" after marriage when you find him in the hedge maze. Y'all when I say I dropped everything out of nowhere, actual *hours* after getting that line, to write this, I mean it. Also not proofread bc as soon as I finished the sex-repulsion started rearing it's ugly head so if there're any typos lemme know lol

SMUT BELOW THE CUT

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, hand jobs, blow job mention, anxiety, embarrassment, blood mention, praise kink, slight dom/sub

Word Count: 1,863

Masterlist

AO3

"I was hoping you'd find me here." Bright blush illuminated Harvey's face even in the shadow of the looming hedges.

The farmer smirked. "Oh, were you?"

They pressed closer into his space, until the leaves behind his back were catching on the fabric of his green jacket, rustling with the disturbance of his weight. He nearly leapt out of his skin when their fingers curled around his belt loops, pulling him closer.

In the shadows of the moonlight, smirking like a cat staring down its prey, he could almost imagine them being a vampire. He gulped thinking about their teeth on his neck, biting down until they drew blood. And the hot press of their tongue lapping it up.

"What are you thinking about, darling?"

Their eyes glimmered like they knew exactly what he'd just been picturing in his mind. He felt warmth reach the tips of his ears and travel down his neck. He wasn't a stranger to intimacy, but he was all too aware of their location, and Maru just around the corner.

His spouse granted him the mercy of not having to answer as they slotted their lips over his, nipping at his lower lip. It only reignited the thoughts from before. He groaned softly, cupping their cheek and leaning into the kiss. They tasted like the breakfast he cooked for them that morning with their produce. Their skin was dusted with a fine layer of dirt, no doubt from tending to the fields before the end of the season. His thumb began brushing it away without thought, his other hand sliding up their arm to cradle their neck.

He gasped, eyes shooting wide open as the buckle of his belt loosened. The smirk from before was now a soft grin, sweet like their fresh maple syrup. “Do you want me to stop?” they whispered.

Everything in his mind said yes. They were in public for Yoba’s sake! Everyone in town was here. There was no telling when somebody could enter the maze and stumble upon them. People who were his patients, who knew him professionally, and the very few who knew him more personally.

He glanced over their shoulder.

They were in the dark… And everybody who wanted to do the maze was already in here, lost somewhere out of earshot… His only concern was Maru, but even she wouldn’t come this way unless she had reason to.

The farmer waited patiently, listening to his frantic heart as he made up his mind. Their hands were still, ready to finish undoing his belt, or to help readjust it back in place. If he asked, they’d grab his hand and drag them back home, back to bed in a mess of sloppy kisses and whispered praises.

“Harv?”

He blinked. With another anxious swallow to tamp down his fears, he kissed them again softly. “I want this,” he muttered against their lips. “I-I’ll try to be quiet.”

They kissed him back sweetly. “Good boy.”

The pet name immediately sent chills down his spine, emboldened by his belt being fully undone and his trousers being unbuttoned. It wasn’t long before their hand pushed into his pants and wrapped around his hardening cock. He keened as quietly as he could manage into their mouth. They happily swallowed up the sound with another kiss.

Their thumb stroked over his slit, spreading the beads of precum already leaking from him. He felt a bit silly, truth be told, like a teenager who snuck out to see his partner in the dead of night, hiding under school bleachers to make out. It made him feel young again. He could almost imagine himself when he was younger, head still set on becoming a pilot despite everything going against him, with a paramour of his own, on a secret, late-night outing.

Though, his secret paramour being his spouse, who chose them despite every other eligible bachelor and bachelorette who pined for their affections, made this even better than in his fantasies.

They pulled away to kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Can you be quiet for me, baby?”

He nodded before his mind even fully comprehended the question.

Their kisses trailed further along his jaw, nipping just under his jaw where any marks wouldn’t be so easily seen. (If he were shorter, anyway.) They languidly pumped his cock in their fist as they loosened his tie next, fluidly unbuttoning the first and second buttons with nimble fingers and pushing his collar aside. Wet, open-mouthed kisses decorated his clavicle. Their tongue dipped in the hollow of his throat, before sucking over his Adam’s apple. When he swallowed, they grinned against it.

He bit his lip to remind himself to be quiet, breathing heavy through his nose as they unbuttoned a few of the middle buttons in his dress shirt and pressed their hand to his stomach, sliding around to his sides.

He shivered again. Their hands were calloused from farming for almost two years straight, rough and yet so gentle with him.

They squeezed the base of his dick before pumping around the head a few times. He whimpered, clamping a hand over his mouth to stop any further sounds from slipping out. If he could, he’d be fully leaned up against the hedge, using it for support as they worked him with as much ease as they ran the farm. Unfortunately, to do so would be to fall into the branches shrouded in the mess of dark leaves.

They kissed back up to his ear, nibbling the lobe, teasing the flesh with one of their canines. He sighed shakily as the thought of vampirism shot to the forefront of his mind again.

“Where do you want to cum, baby?” They whispered against the helix of his ear. “In my hand?” They accentuated the words by dragging their middle finger along the underside of his cock, along the thick, sensitive vein. “Or my mouth?” They sucked his lobe into their mouth, swirling their tongue along it.

They were so close, they could hear and feel the effect they had on him. His heart was racing so fast and loud in his chest, he would have worried it was sounding like a drum throughout the whole town, calling everyone to their location, had he the mind for it. Instead, all he could think about was images of kissing them like a madman as he finished in their hand. Or the feeling of their hair in his hand as they swallowed around his cock, milking him until he was utterly spent. For as much as he would have loved seeing them on their knees before him, looking up at him, highlighted only by the moon in this dark alley of the maze, he feared it would completely destroy his ability to be quiet. Already, he was fighting to stay hushed, when all they’d done is touch and kiss him.

He pulled his hand from his mouth, shaking as he decided his answer. “H-Hand,” he breathed. “P-Please, honey, let me cum.”

They pushed their face into his hand to move it out of the way without having to stop feeling the hair on his chest or trailing down his stomach, or the soft fat on his sides. “I will, darling.” They kissed him long and sweet, but his mouth chased for more and more, passionate and needy as he cupped both their cheeks and pulled them closer, closer, closer.

He moaned and whimpered against their lips as they jerked him off faster. The sounds rumbled low in his throat, like a beast within him was being drawn out with their ministrations. They coaxed his mouth open with their tongue, the bitter taste of coffee mixing with their sweetness. The concerns about being silent slipped his mind entirely as he fast approached his orgasm. They diligently muffled his beautiful sounds, their own mind flooded with love and adoration for the man they chose to marry. Their wonderful, nerdy doctor.

His breath caught in his throat sharply. His hips bucked mindlessly as his cock twitched in their hand. They covered his tip with their palm, stroking just under the head with their thumb as they caught the hot strands of cum. As his dick softened, he sighed shakily against their mouth.

They pulled away first, making sure they got as much of his spend as they could before pulling their hand from his pants. Their hand left his shirt to cup his cheek. He smiled when he felt them trying to fix his mustache.

“Good?”

He nodded. “Really good,” he assured them. A new wave of blood rushed to his cheeks as he noticed their hand, awkwardly held and covered in semen. He removed himself from their hold to fish around his pockets for a packet of tissues. He pulled a couple out of the plastic and cleaned their hand, wrapping the soiled tissues in another protective layer of tissue. When he looked back up at their face, tucking the packet back into his pocket, they had a big, dopey smile on their face. “What?”

They laughed. “You, that’s what. I just didn’t expect you to have tissues.”

“I’m a doctor,” he offered as an explanation with an embarrassed chuckle.

“You’re adorable.” He began rooting around his pockets again. “Hand sanitizer?”

He must’ve been as red as a ripe tomato when he pulled out the small bottle of sanitizer. But they just chuckled and held out their hands, diligently rubbing it between each finger and down their wrists. As they did, he began putting himself back together. He rebuttoned his shirt, tucking it back into his pants to give the illusion that nothing happened. Then he zipped, buttoned, and buckled his trousers once more. His spouse finished cleaning their hands just in time to fix his tie, pressing a kiss to his chin when they finished.

“Ah, thank you, for that, by the way,” he stammered.

They adjusted his collar and smiled warmly at him. “Of course. It was my pleasure.” They grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the alley. “If you wanna wait out there, it shouldn’t take me long to get the golden pumpkin.”

He tugged on their hand, pulling them to a stop just before the entrance of the maze. His heart began racing again as he tried not to regret what he was about to say. “C-Can I go with you?”

“Are you sure?”

He looked down the path, toward where Maru meandered about, trying to gather her sense of direction. It was lit well enough… He tried to ignore the grabby hands peeking around the corner.

The farmer squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to, Harvey. I know you don’t like scary things.”

“I…” He took a deep breath, looking at them once more. “I want to. You make me want to be brave.”

They beamed up at him, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Okay, if you say so. Don’t let go of my hand, right?”

He held on a bit tighter. “Right.”

Together, they marched into the haunted hedge maze.

…

Harvey stuck around with Abigail until the farmer came back with the prize.

[jetblack4realz]

prove you right - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - you and jake are both toxic exes and it doesn't help that you're supposed to run a mission together

warnings - angst and toxicity ig

word count - 2.6k

i can't decide if i like this or not, ending could be better, but i hope you guys like it anyways!

______________________________________________________________

you laughed as you skipped in a circle, arm looped in phoenix's. your feet occasionally slipped in the sand, your other hand holding a bottle of beer high in the air. laughter surrounded the two of you as you giggled, the fire behind you flickering in stark contrast to the dark, star-filled skies of the beach.

you suddenly gasped, stopping your movements and causing phoenix to stumble into you.

"what?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"let's burn something," you said, nodding quickly.

"red, what?" coyote asked with a laugh. "what are you burning?"

"i have just the thing."

your smile was almost devious as you ran as best you could back up to your truck. you pulled the small slip of glossed paper from where it was tucked in the shade mirror, turning too quickly to run back to your friends and blinking fast to get the spinning world to stop. rooster came up to you then, grabbing you arm gently and beginning to walk with you back to the fire.

"i'm gonna grab you a water," he told you, handing you off to bob as you waved your paper proudly. he turned to head back to the hard deck, only a bit down the shore, and coyote was the first to ask.

"what is it?"

you held it up for all to see, hand behind it like you were some beauty influencer. your grin was twisted as you explained in a slow, sing-songy manner, "oh, just the good ole days."

it was a picture of you and jake in the parking lot of the hard deck, you placing his cowboy hat on his head with a smile as he stared down at you. you couldn't even remember (especially in the intoxicated state you found yourself in now) who had taken it or what you were doing that night, but it was your favorite candid of you two.

"y/n, don't." natasha seemed to have sobered a bit, her brows knitted deeply at the sight of the photograph. "you'll regret it in the morning."

"i have rights!" you hummed, jutting your chin out defensively. "i am a broken-hearted woman. i will not regret this."

"yes, you will," bob advised, pulling you gently to sit down next to him. "no offense, but you're not an intelligent drunk, red. you've already done some things tonight you won't be happy about tomorrow."

phoenix took it upon herself to steal the picture from your hands, earning a yelp of, "hey!"

"you're not burning this," she told you, her brows raised as though she was daring you to try and take it from her. "you're not even broken up yet, are you?"

a glare rested over your features as you blew out a frustrated breath. rooster approached again, a bottle of water in hand and his brows knitted in question at the sight of phoenix with a picture of you and hangman. he offered the water to you and you took it, reluctantly chugging a few swallows down.

your eyes flashed back to where he'd come from, and you could see jake through the window. he was leaning against the jukebox, thumb messing with one of the buttons as a pretty, extremely skinny brunette who looked like a literal victoria's secret model approached him with a sly smirk on her perfect pink lips.

you took another swig of your water, glaring straight forwards as you lowered it from your mouth and swallowed. "i guess that's up to him now."

"what the hell is he doing?" payback asked, brows furrowed as they all stared into the bar window.

"the same thing he always does," you told him, glancing back for a moment before your voice lowered. "screwing with me."

bob, the sweetheart he is, noticed as soon as your eyes began to well with tears, offering you his shoulder. you offered him a small smile, but shook your head, wiping at your eyes aggressively.

you stood up, shaking out your hands in an attempt to calm the buzz throughout your whole body. everyone's eyes were on you, watching your mood swing back and forth between anger and sadness and carelessness, mindless words spilling from your lips. they were used to you drunk, this is just how you were. it was funny a lot of the time. but, they'd never seen you heartbroken and drunk - and none of them knew what to do with it.

"y/n?" phoenix tried. "what even happened?"

your attention snapped to her quickly and you stopped whatever rant you'd started about how he never bought the right kind of milk anyways so it was fine that he didn't shop for you anymore.

"what happened?" you asked, furrowing your brows. "he didn't tell you?"

"doesn't wanna talk about it at all," coyote said with a concerned knit of his brows. "just that you were still together, just barely."

you laughed dryly. "that's an understatement."

"did he cheat?" rooster asked, always one to get to the point. he nodded his head to the window. "like that?"

the girl had leaned closer to him, her hand on his arm as she giggled about something. he wasn't paying her any mind, saying a few short phrases to her that you couldn't read, but she wasn't moving. and when she leaned closer, her lips by his ear, you stormed towards the door, chucking you bottle into the sand.

"red!"

"y/n!"

"shit," bradley mumbled as they all began following you to the bar, fanboy and coyote stomping out the fire and spilling the rest of your water onto the coals before running after them.

you weren't quiet when you threw open the door, but given that it was 1am, music was blasting, and 90% of the bar was almost blackout drunk no one seemed to care.

"jacob henry seresin!" you barked.

his eyebrows shot halfway up his hairline as his eyes shot to the door where you entered, a fire in your eyes he wasn't too familiar with.

"hangman," the brunette said, a bit of a question in her tone as she eyed you.

when you reached them, your insecurities called out: this girl was easily at least 4 inches taller than you, with thinner legs, unblemished skin with no sign of a sunburn from training that day, long, healthy hair, and even you had to admit that she looked good in her tank top and shorts, whereas you had scars dotting your hands from mechanical work and unfortunate vegetable disasters that jake had had to clean you up from, a pink sunburn across your cheeks and exposed shoulders that had luckily lightened from the dark red the week before, and the muscle you'd worked so hard for felt too bulky on your body.

you remembered vaguely phoenix telling you that you looked hot when you walked in tonight, a pair of nice fitting jeans, the cowgirl boots jake had bought you for you birthday last year, and a black tank top. for a moment you wondered if jake thought you looked hot. then you remembered a few weeks ago when you wore this same getup and you weren't wondering anymore.

jake removed himself from her, hands reaching out for you, but you stepped away. you offered the girl a sickly sweet smile, crossing your arms over your chest as he took a step behind you, eyes on the side of your face.

"i hate to break it to ya honey, but you ain't going home with him tonight," you said, your voice still awfully loud as her eyes narrowed at you.

"and how would you know that?" she asked.

"i'm his girl, darlin'," you said. "he doesn't need a knock off skipper barbie doll."

"you ever think he might be better off with one?"

"there isn't a chance in hell that he is!"

"y/n," jake mumbled in your ear, hand on your wrist to catch your attention. "people are looking. nothing was going to happen."

"how about you ask him?" the brunette taunted, eyes on the aviator next to you.

"don't need to. he doesn't sleep with girls like you."

"and yet he sleeps with a slut like you."

no one on the team had ever seen you glare at someone so viciously before and it kind of scared them. your little situation had caught penny's attention who waved bradley over to her, asking him quickly what was happening.

"what did you say?" your volume was high, your were nearly shouting as you took a step towards her. she leaned closer, looking down at you with a stupid smirk.

"how could he be with a slut like you and not want me instead?"

maverick was constantly getting after you and bradley to "not think, just do", something you were slowly getting better at. but, with a few whiskeys in your system and a boatload of unrelenting anger, you were an expert at the concept.

your fist flew into her mouth in an instant, gasps filling the room around you. jake and coyote grabbed your arms, dragging you backwards as phoenix stood in front of the girl, mumbling something about bleeding.

"say it again!" you taunted as she stood straight again, her lip effectively busted and bleeding. her eyes were wide as she stared at you.

"you hit me!" she shrieked. "you're crazy!"

"crazy?" you asked, raising your brows. "i'll show you-"

"we're not doing this." jake dipped down quickly and grabbed you around the legs, tossing you over his shoulder and walking out the door payback was holding open for him.

"let go of me!" you yelled, pounding on his back. "put me down, jake!"

he let you hit him for the minute it took him to walk far enough down the beach that you couldn't really hear the music of the bar anymore.

"jake seresin, put me down!"

"y/n, stop!" he placed you back on your feet, but not gently. you stumbled back, jake catching your hand with a huff. "sorry."

"what the hell?!" you shouted, glaring at the man. "what the hell was that, jake?!"

you pushed his chest, but he caught your hands, brows furrowed tightly.

"what do you mean, 'what the hell'? i should be saying that to you!" he said. "what was that?"

"you were flirting with her."

"she was flirting with me."

"oh, and what difference does it make?"

"a lot of difference!" he defended, brows raised. "i wasn't flirting with her, i wasn't leaving with her, i wasn't even giving her any attention and you still went and punched her! what is happening with you? first you start playing these weird, rager breakup songs on the speakers and then i find you sexy dancing with some random guy, and now this! what is happening? you're acting crazy!"

"crazy?" you asked, pulling away from him quickly and ripping your hands from his. "crazy?! who the hell do you think you are?"

"y/n-"

"no, no! if you say i'm crazy, fine. that's fine. i'll prove you right, take it way too far. all i gotta do is blame it on the broken heart that you gave me, tell everyone what the hell you did and they'll take my side."

"tell them what i did?"

"that you cheated one me!" you cried, stepping away from him with your arms in the air. tears quickly filled your eyes. "you did! you cheated on me, jake, you made out with another girl!"

"i was blackout drunk, i thought she was you!" he yelled back. "i didn't know what i was doing! she even said so! i kept saying 'y/n, y/n, y/n' over and over and i guess she thought you were an ex or something?"

"maybe i should be," you said, standing straighter. his face fell. "i can't do this with you again, jake."

"i'm not lying to you, it meant nothing. it wasn't supposed to happen, i was just drunk out of my mind and it was kyle's bachelor and-"

"jake, i know. you told me," you said strictly. "but that doesn't change what happened. i get you didn't know what you were doing, but jake... you should've never put yourself in the position for that to be a possibility. i need you to know your limits. blackout drunk is dangerous, in more ways than just you screwed up your relationship."

"i know. i know, and i'm sorry," he said, seeming genuinely apologetic. he stepped forward, taking your hands in his. "it'll never happen again."

"i know. it won't," you agreed, stepping away and slipping your hands from his. his face fell.

"no. don't do this. y/n it was one mistake, one mistake in two years, please," he tried.

"you broke my heart, jake," you reminded.

"i know and it kills me to know that i did that to you," he said, stepping towards you again. his brows were knitted deeply and it almost looked like he was going to start crying.

"you broke my heart."

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry baby." his voice cracked and you risked looking up at him, seeing the completely shattered expression.

a silence fell over you for a few moments as you thought over your next words.

"do you know why my callsign is red?" you asked, tone back to normal as he peered at you carefully.

"little red riding hood."

"and what's special about her?"

he hesitated. "i don't know. her grandma was a wolf."

"she believed a wolf was her grandma. she got tricked by a wolf. she was gullible. my callsign is red because i was gullible in flight school and my friends teased me about it," you said. a watery smile pulled at your lips as you shook your head. "i didn't think i was gullible anymore, jake."

"you're not," he promised. "you're not. i'm done. i'm done. i'll never drink that much again, i'll only drink with you, i'll do whatever the hell you want me to do, okay? because i love you. i love you with my whole damn heart and if you leave i don't know what the hell i would do with myself."

"jake-"

"please." it came out as a desperate whisper and when you looked up into his beautiful green eyes, you felt all of your walls break down again. he had that way with you. you hated it.

just as you went to respond, you felt something brush across your boot. you looked down to see your photograph trying to blow across the toe of the boot, getting caught on the sand surrounding it. you leaned down and picked it up, eying it carefully.

you looked back up at jake, fingers reaching to adjust the cowboy hat on his head.

"you're damn lucky you wore this hat today," you mumbled.

he didn't say anything, instead opting to grab your face with both hands and drag you into a long, passionate, slightly salty kiss.

"i'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing you again, and again, and again. "i'm so sorry, darlin'."

"you will never get close to doing something like that again," you told him, hands gripping the front of his shoulders as you stared into his emeralds.

"never," he promised, kissing your lips softly and slowly. "you're the only girl i'm ever kissing again. i'm so sorry baby. i love you so much."

you kissed him again before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into the tightest embrace you'd ever felt him give, his arms wound tightly around your waist.

"i love you too."

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 5)

Pairing : Boss! Dean Winchester X Assistant! Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, slight violence (a well deserved punch), language, John and Mary Winchester, not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Y/n emerged from the women's room and went back to her work space. She knew she looked like a mess even after putting her best efforts to look presentable. With a deep breath she sat back on her desk, thankful Dean was in a meeting. She had zoned out and hadn't realised how much time had passed until a knock on her desk pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see a pair of blue eyes staring at her.

"Earth to Y/n." Cas grinned but his grin faltered the minute he saw her eyes, puffy and red, the sight made him furrow his brows.

"Cas! What're you doing here?" She asked happily getting up from her chair and rounding the desk to greet him with a hug. "I thought you were in France." She said wrapping her arms around his torso. The man didn't hesitate to return the embrace.

"I was, but the event wrapped up early so I came back." He replied pulling away slightly so he could look at her better. "What happened?" He questioned. His gaze fell to her hand where he was expecting to see a ring on her finger but the vacant finger confused him even more. Dean had told him over the phone that he'd proposed and you'd said yes. So why on earth is your finger empty and your eyes red.

Dean stepped out of the elevator after he was done with the meeting and he watched Cas and Y/n talking outside his office. He took in her disheveled appearance and his heart clenched in his chest. She looked so small, and broken, all because of him. He'd promised to never hurt her and that's what he ended up doing. He could tell she'd cried, her puffy and red eyes had given that away.

"Y/n? Where's your ring?" Dean heard Cas ask and his gaze fell to her hand, the sight broke his heart. She'd taken it off. "Didn't Dean propose? He said you said yes." Cas prodded further but she didn't say anything until her gaze fell upon Dean approaching them, not necessarily them, but his office. She watched as he moved past them and reached his office door and that's when she spoke.

"Propose? Cas you've known me since college, I've never been the one they proposed to, I'm the one they 'love' and leave." She sneered and Dean's grip tightened onto the doorknob. He hated hearing her talk about herself like that but shes not even giving him a chance to explain. He felt his anger flaring up and he went inside his office slamming the door behind him.

Cas looked between his two friends feeling completely out of the loop but he felt this was bigger than a petty argument and he's never known Y/n to overreact so if something happened it was big. And most probably Dean's fault. All rationality left his brain when he saw his friend hurt and his best friend being the reason of her tears. He went inside Dean's office, where Dean was pacing back and forth. He grabbed the CEO by his arm and punched him straight in the jaw.

"What the fuck, Cas?" Dean growled holding his jaw.

"What did you do?" Cas glared at his best friend.

"Why do you think I did something?" Dean asked feeling offended his best friend was accusing him.

"Your face says it all so spill, or Lord so help me." Cas threatened. He was gonna beat him to a pulp if he didn't come clean right here, right now. Dean knew Cas was a peaceful person and if he's threatening to choose violence, he will resort to it. He's already lost his fiancée, he doesn't want to lose his best friend too. The two men sat on the chairs placed on the either side of Dean’s desk.

"I went to see mom and dad a week ago." He started.

Dean walked into his childhood house, he was greeted by smiling faces of John, Mary and Sam. It brought a smile to his face as well. Dean teased Sam about how Jess’ not here since they’re always attached to the hip. Mary cleared her throat before speaking,

“There’s something I need to tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d react so I thought it’d be better if it’s just us.” That made Dean tense up. He didn’t like the way this conversation started.

“Is everything okay?” Dean asked looking back and forth between his parents.

“On the surface yeah.” Mary replied. “Dean you’re thirty. You’re not getting any younger and I want you to settle down.” She said getting straight to the point.

“Okay..” Dean trailed off, this isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He just has to tell them about Y/n and their engagement now.

“And the way you’ve been immersed in work, I don’t see you getting settled anytime soon so we’ve decided to arrange with you someone.” Mary said and Dean’s jaw dropped to the floor. Did his family really think he’s that much of a workaholic that he can’t find a partner for himself? That’s bullshit.

“Excuse me?” Dean growled standing up from his seat.

“She’s the niece of your dad’s old friend. Her name’s Rachel.” Mary said with a finality in her voice.

“Rachel? The one I went to school with? What the fuck is wrong with you all?” Dean yelled.

“She likes you.” Mary added, trying to convince her son.

“I don’t give a fuck. You have no right to meddle in my life.” Dean growled. John who had been quiet all this time finally spoke.

“Dean, don’t talk to your mother like that.” His voice boomed.

“And you’re not hearing what she’s saying?” Dean retorted.

“Dean calm down.” Sam said setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder which the older brother shrugged off.

“Dean this arrangement is for the benefit of the company as well. And your mother wants you to settle down. What’s so wrong in that?” John exclaimed loudly.

“My company is doing great without anyone’s support and what’s wrong with this arrangement is that I have someone in my life and I won’t marry anyone else besides her.” Dean declared.

“Watch your tone, boy. That company is mine, need I remind you I’m still the owner of that company. And you’re the CEO because I made you.” John asserted making Dean scoff.

“You made me CEO because i worked hard for it. You didn’t just give it to me, I earned it.” Dean sneered back at his father.

“The decision has been made. You either marry Rachel or you lose the title of CEO.” John bellowed and the room fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was Dean’s harsh breathing. Without another word Dean left his parent’s house, slamming the door on his way out.

“Dude that’s fucked up.” Cas muttered as Dean finished his story.

“Yeah tell me about it.” Dean rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“Did you tell her?” Castiel asked gesturing outside the door. Dean shook his head staring at the ceiling. “What’re you gonna do now?

“I don’t know, Cas. I love her to death. I don’t want anyone else. But I’ve worked too hard for where I am. It’s so fucking complicated. I don’t even know what to tell her.” He sighed rubbing his face. “How am I going to tell her that I can’t choose between her and my work?”

“You’ve worked hard for this, Dean. Everyone knows that.” Castiel said softly. He felt dejected he couldn’t help his friend. “And I know Y/n. She wouldn’t want you to give it up.” He added.

“That’s also something which scares me. She’d tell me to choose this.” Dean said gesturing to his office. “She’d put me first and I can’t even imagine to bear the look on her face when she does it.” Dean could feel tears springing in his eyes, just at the thought of loosing her for good. “I thought I’d deal with this mess without her knowing about it. But then Rachel showed up.”

“Dean.” Cas said seriously that made Dean look at him. “You have to tell her. She’s falling down in a deep hole of self doubt.” Dean nodded agreeing with Cas. He knows its going to be hard, but he has to go through with it.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

@10ava01 @jackles010378

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [10 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: You see that the grass sea does truly have an end.  

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: 👀 as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome! thank you! mind the warnings ❤️

Steve wakes you before dawn. 

You’re still tired from the hard rides in the days before, only managing to stay upright on your horse through sheer force of will alone. The others are more experienced at sleeping in the saddle than you, who begins to slip out of it just as soon as your eyes drift shut. 

Riding in the middle of the pack had meant you had no responsibility other than to keep ranks, to follow the path set in front of you. But at the front, Steve had had different requirements. 

Hold your hand like this, Sweetmeat. Which way’s the wind leaning? 

Ride up ahead, Little One. Tell me what you see. 

You see the first stars on the horizon? Good. Spread your fingers like this—ah. See? That tells us how far we have left to go. 

When his hand falls upon your shoulder, you lurch in the saddle, a hand flying to the hilt of your short sword as the other grips the reins. 

“Easy, Sweetmeat.” You feel Steve’s hand close around your own, re-sheathing your partially drawn sword with a click. “Ready for battle?” He asks with a chuckle, and your cheeks burn. 

“Shouldn’t I always be?” You shoot back, before stifling a yawn. The sky is still dark above you, only just beginning to turn orange and indigo at the edges.  The shapes Steve had taught you to look for—Tirth’s Throne, Ginza the bear—are high in the sky now, directly overhead. 

“Is something wrong? We haven’t lost course, have we?” 

Steve raises an eyebrow. “No, we have not.” He seems almost… Proud. “How dutiful.” It is not the most flowery compliment to be sure, but it makes you bite your lip and look away anyway. Perhaps it is the look of admiration that makes you nervous—yes, nervous. Certainly that is what the trembling is in your belly, the reason you look for something to do with your hands. You settle on smoothing out your skirt. 

“That was your purpose in teaching me navigation, was it not?” You ask, and he laughs. 

“If you like.” His horse falls into step beside yours. Even his horse is a massive beast, larger at least by half than the mare you sit astride. 

“Then why wake me?” 

The smile that creeps across the Orc’s face makes you look away for the pounding in your chest. 

“I promised you wondrous sights, did I not?”

—

At his bidding, you had handed Carol the reins to your horse, stammering and staring at the ground you wished might open up to swallow you. You can feel the eyes of the pack on your back, Steve’s especially. Carol elbows you, the force of it making you stumble. 

“Not one but two, eh?” She grins so wide her tusks poke into the apples of her cheeks. Your whole body prickles.

“I do not know what you mean.” You loop a stray curl away behind your ear. “Take good care of my horse, will you?”

“Mm. Like my own.” 

You return to Steve, who holds out his hand, beckoning. 

“It is faster with just one,” he explains. Your hand seems tiny in his as he grips it and swings you up in front of him. Hopefully he cannot feel how hard your heart is beating, or hear how fast the blood rushes in your veins. He’s warm behind you, the bare skin of his tattooed chest pressing against you through the back of your dress, and touching you where the sleeves had been torn off for convenience. You stiffen as he lowers his head to speak directly into your ear. 

“Hold onto the saddle.” 

You do, yelping as the horse rears back before taking off. The beat of its hooves is tremendous as it races into the horizon, pounding against the earth like a great drum. Carol is a speck behind you in moments, lost in the shifting grass. You ride until you are sure the pack lies many leagues behind you now, and the sea has well and truly swallowed them. But finally Steve brings the beast to heel, slowing, and you see that there is an end to the low hills and little rivers of the zikaegina—here, at least. Countless days and nights from the village you’d known but there is at least one place where the grass sea does not truly meet the sky. 

The air smells of water and something familiar but unidentifiable, and as Steve slows, you see the grass is shorter, windswept and crusted with white. He dismounts behind you, before helping you down. You run a hand over the stiff, almost frosted grass, and then bring a finger to your lips. 

Salt.

There is a sound almost like wind through the tall grass but louder, like deep and resounding thunder. 

“What is that?” You turn to stare at Steve, wide eyed. He looks up from hobbling the horse, a small smile gracing his features as he loops the reins around the remains of a stunted tree. 

“Go and look. Mind the edge.” 

You creep forward, pushing your way through the grass until it’s almost a normal height, brushing against your knees. And the dirt—it’s looser, grittier, nothing like the hard packed red clay beneath the village, or the dark, moist soil of the grass sea. It is littered with tiny dried shells, circles and spirals and little five pointed stars, crunching beneath your feet. The grass ends in a sharp drop—a cliff. The salt-water smell is stronger than ever now, as is the wind and e sound. As you approach the edge with cautious steps, you see it—

Water. 

Deep and endless blue, like the green that stretches on forever behind you.  

Infinity meets infinity.

The waves slam against the sheer rocky cliffside, and even up here, miles above, you can feel the cool spray. You have never seen this much water at once, roiling and crashing. What swims beneath those waves, you wonder, what stares up at the sun through the shifting mirror of its surface? A curious, childish joy wells up in you at the sight of it, at this new wonder you behold with wide eyes. 

“What is this?” You shout to be heard over the cacophony of wind and waves and crumbling stone. The Orc who had been your captor is now behind you, you can feel his presence, like the world simply bends around him, held like a suspended breath. You do not know what you would call him now, as “captor” no longer seems fitting. 

“The sea.” You turn to face him, the wind whipping wildly at your hair and skirts. 

“It’s beautiful.” You turn back to watch the water, staring at place where it meets the horizon, a lifetime away. 

“Yes,” Steve says quietly. “It is.” Together, you watch as the sun rises, orange-red and shimmering from the depths. You sit in the grass, folding your legs beneath you as the glorious spectacle keeps you riveted. It isn’t the first time you’ve watched the sun rise, but now it seems incredible, beautiful instead of mundane.

“Did the sea come up here, once? Is that why there’s sand?”

“Once.” He nods. “I believe I told you of Molroch.” 

You nod. “You said he split the sea.” Steve smiles. 

“So they say.” He gestures at the grass sea, and at the sharp stone edge. In the distance, you see it curve around, stretching on for uncountable thousands of leagues before disappearing into the horizon. “And what do your people say?” 

“They say that Gods and giants dwell on the other side of the mountain.” The village sat as most settlements did in the Kingdom of Light—in the shadow of the mountains. They traveled parallel to the grass sea, hostile and uncrossable. It was forbidden anyway, a land shrouded in choking mist and marked by a chasm so deep that the bottom could never be reached. “They say Halith reached down and pulled up the mountains so the giants could never reach us again. That she went up into the sky to shine down upon us and shun them from her light.” 

You look back at the sea. “Is there anything on the other side?” 

“I don’t know, Sweetmeat.” He rises to his feet with a stretch. “Perhaps one day we shall find out. But today, we lead the pack to Tarrath.” Steve offers you his hand, and you take it. You stand, brushing sand and dry grass from your skirts as you do. 

“We’ll get there today?” You ask, wide eyed. Steve laughs. 

“Perhaps by nightfall.” You begin to make for the grass and his horse. “Wait.” He reaches for a pouch at his waist, and from it he pulls a cone shaped spiral shell, perhaps half the size of your palm. It’s pearly and iridescent, shining beautifully in the sun when you hold it up. Your cheeks heat. 

“A token.” He says, turning back toward the grass sea. “So you always remember. Hold it to your ear and listen.” He pantomimes holding it up, and you do, pressing your ear to the hole. After a moment, you hear it, a softer, quieter version of the booming crash of the water against the cliffside. You smile. 

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” 

Steve nods. “It is.” He is not looking at the shell, though. You tuck it carefully into the little pouch at your waist. 

“To Tarrath, then?” You ask, and Steve lifts his chin, tusks gleaming as his lips curve upward. 

“To Tarrath.” 

Brave Masterlist

next chapter

[evermourning]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞. ˚｡୨୧˚

pairing: Lee Felix x GN!reader

genre: drabble, non!idol au, established relationship, fluff(?)

wc: 1k

warnings: lots and lots of kisses, suggestive, making out, language, pet names (honey, sweetheart, babe, lix)

summary: you have an amazing idea. the idea in question being a romantic tiktok trend that your boyfriend is over the moon about trying.

a/n: so...i was listening to cigarettes after sex and i remembered that one tiktok trend to k., and ik it's dead now but IT WON'T BE DEAD UNTIL I DO IT RAHHHH so here's me feeding you guys while the last two lovertober entries are being worked on

Felix knew something was up the second he stepped through your door.

You had texted him randomly, a cryptic message he'd stared at for an actual eternity (five minutes) attempting to decipher but ultimately giving up.

"come over. as soon as possible."

Were you in trouble? Did you want to fuck him? Was it both? He decided he should just go over to your apartment to see if you were okay. He slipped on his coat and left hurriedly.

You were on the couch, dozing off to some early 2000's movie you couldn't bother watching. When the door opening, you jolted out of the state you were in and turned to stare at Felix, a look of utmost delight upon your features.

"Hi, honey." You cooed, getting up from under the comfy blanket to snake your arms around his neck and press a loving peck to his plush lips. "You look lovely tonight."

Blood rushed to Felix's cheeks, turning them the color of blossoming pink roses. You were wearing his shirt and a pair of simple, black sleep shorts. Felix gulped, trying to fight the urge to pin you to the wall and kiss you until your lips were raw.

"What do you need? I saw you wanted me to come over quickly so I rushed here." Holy shit, he was a blabbering mess. You grinned.

"You know that one Cigarettes After Sex song, right?" you asked, plopping back down onto the couch and pulling out your phone.

"Very specific." Felix teased, hanging up his coat before awkwardly sitting down beside you. However, he relaxed once you leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Hey! But it's called K., and it's that one where it goes like 'Stay with me, I don't want you to leave'..." you tried to explain, and Felix giggled.

"Yes, I know it. Did you call me all the way here for a song recommendation?" You shook your head, before zeroing in on the black, form-fitting turtleneck he'd been wearing beneath his heavy coat.

"Not really, no. There was this trend that was going around...I don't remember when, but every time I hear the song I think about it." You mused, gasping softly when one of Felix's arms made its way to wrap around your waist. Good god. "You look really hot in that turtleneck, by the way."

"Thank you, sweetheart." he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your exposed neck. "Now, what was this trend about? I feel like I know what you're talking about..."

He knew exactly what you were talking about. To be honest, he was overjoyed you were even bringing up the idea to him. Being kissed all over by his partner sounded like the perfect Saturday night.

"I hope this jogs your memory, then!" You pulled up a video you had saved on TikTok, moving your phone over a little so that he could see it better. It showed some girl putting on lipstick, and messing it up. Then, a hand reached into the frame to wipe it away, and the camera panned to show her boyfriend, covered in lipstick marks and staring at her affectionately. "So...what do you think?"

Felix was staring in awe. Which pretty much answered your question.

"Please use that one burgundy lipstick you have. I'm begging you." He murmured quietly, still staring at the video on loop. You laughed out loud with glee, dashing off to go grab it.

Felix was waiting patiently, staring at the empty doorway as the distant sounds of you rummaging through your drawers excited him to no end. He just hoped he wouldn't get too excited...

When you finally came back, holding the tube of lipstick he loved so, he swore the butterflies flitting around inside his stomach began migrating. He changed the position he was sitting in so he could lay his back comfortably against the armrest of the sofa. Unfortunately, every one of his emotions were on full display as you climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"Wow, you're pretty red, Lix. I'm a little worried that the lipstick might not show up!" You slyly teased him, only adding more color to his adorable cheeks. He reached up to caress the soft skin on your cheek, his lips curled upwards into an endearing smile.

"Babe, I love you and your teasing but put on that makeup and fucking kiss me already." Felix grumbled playfully. You had no hesitation as you applied the dark lipstick, leaning down to press kiss after kiss onto his freckled face until his skin was stained red inside and out.

Felix felt like you were edging him.

You'd kissed everywhere except his lips, and it was making him feel embarrassingly needy. You noticed this, and with an airy giggle, you moved towards his lips. However, at the last second your head swiveled and you left a mark on the corner of his lips. That was his final straw. With a groan, he reached up and pulled you down so he could kiss you passionately, his hands going to your waist to steady you.

His kisses were dripping with love and adoration, fiery with desire. They slowly became more and more intimate, tongues dancing with each other. Your hands went to his blonde hair, holding them tightly. When you pulled away, a string of saliva connecting you to him like some otherworldly string of fate, your lips were swollen and his were the color of spilt red wine.

"You can't jus' leave me hanging like that, sweetheart. C'mon, get my neck too." He said, panting. His chest was heaving. You liked it.

"But you're wearing a turtleneck." You pointed out, blinking once, twice.

He grinned.

"Exactly. Go ahead, take it off of me." With his help, his expanse of tanned, bare skin was exposed to you. A perfect canvas to create art upon with your lovely lips.

Needless to say, you never finished filming.

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[fujoshirat]

+Strawberry Magic! ♡ 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!♡+

Chapter 5: Winter Gala Cinderella

Summary: When virgin Pro Hero Shouto turns 30, he gains the magical ability to read the minds of people that he touches. After finding out that his personal assistant has a crush on him, everything changes and Shouto finds himself lost in the stressful game called love.

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: Aged up characters, slight cursing (not a lot), both Shouto and reader POV (3rd person POV too), slight anxiety attack

"Oh! Please come in, Todoroki-san!"

Taking his shoes off at the entrance, Shouto looks around. Y/N's apartment has a homey feeling to it; cozy colored lights, warm wallpaper, and the gentle smell of vanilla fill his senses. Turning back to his assistant, he notices that she has already somewhat put on her dress.

"You came just in time, sir! I managed to zip it up a little bit, but I still need help."

"Of course, I'll help you."

Finding the zipper, Shouto quickly zips it up. 'No more zipper incidents.'

"All done."

"Thank you!"

The dual-toned man watches his assistant twirl around in front of the mirror, admiring the expensive outfit.

After wrapping her boa around herself, Y/N takes Shouto's hand. He leads her out of the apartment and into his car.

...

If you had to describe the gala in one word, it would be majestic. Upon entering, you notice that the entire ballroom is elegantly decorated with crystal chandeliers, gold accents, and floral arrangements. The guests are pro heroes and employees, no doubt top-tier and elite, all dressed to the nines. In the corner, there is a live orchestra performing softly. Shifting your boa around yourself nervously, you look up at your boss.

"Todoroki-san, this gala is incredible! Thank you so much again for inviting me!"

"It's no problem at all, L/N-san. You look stunning, and I'm glad that you accepted the invite."

Being complimented by THE Shouto Todoroki felt like a dream. Even if he was your boss and you saw him five out of seven days of the week, it still made you feel elated to be noticed.

♡♡♡

Shouto makes his way through the crowd, his assistant's arm looped with his. He could feel the stares and curiosity from the onlookers, but that didn't matter. All he could focus on were Y/N's thoughts.

'So many pro! Oh my gosh!! Is that Froppy? Uravity? I wonder if Dynamight is here too?? I should get an autograph or something! It's not every day that I have this chance to meet them- oh? Is that shrimp cocktail and steak over there?'

Shouto chuckles quietly to himself. 'So L/N-san is a secret hero fangirl, huh? That's cute.'

-Huh? Snap out of it!-

Shaking his head, he makes his way to his closest friends. Izuku notices him and waves.

"Shouto!"

Katsuki simply nods, but his gaze hardens when he notices the woman behind Shouto.

"Hey, it's good to see you both again." Shouto looks at his assistant and puts a hand behind her back. "This is L/N-san, my assistant. L/N-san, these are my friends, Midoriya and Bakugou."

'OH MY GOSH!! IT'S DEKU AND PRO HERO DYNAMIGHT!! I knew they would come, but I didn't realize that Todoroki-san would introduce me to them!! Omg!!' In contrast to her exhuberant thoughts, Y/N smiles and bows politely.

"It is an honor to meet you two, Midoriya-san and Bakugou-san."

Izuku smiles. "Oh, you were the lady who I Shouto's birthday gifts to!"

Shouto notices the sparkle that grows in Y/N's eyes.

"You remember me?"

"Mhm!"

"No way!!!"

While his assistant and best friend converse, he looks at Katsuki, who quirks a brow at him. The blondie gestures for him to come closer, and Shouto follows. Lowering his voice, he speaks up.

"This is her?"

"Yes."

"Why's she yer plus one?"

"...I don't know."

Shouto genuinely didn't have an answer. All this time, he thought that he did not reciprocate the feelings that Y/N fostered for him, yet... these past few weeks, ever since finding out about her crush on him, he's been... conflicted.

After a period of momentary silence between the two guys, Katsuki scoffs.

"It looks to me like you're stuck. Don't be leading her on."

Letting out a sigh, Shouto replies.

"I know."

...

After having a friendly conversation with his friends and greeting the higher-ups who organized the gala, Shouto leads his assistant to a quiet table to dine at. The food was opened after some remarks by the president of the Japan Heroes Association Board, and everything was fine.

However, once they had finished their food, Shouto heard a camera behind him.

CLICK.

Whipping his head around, he notices a man holding up a reporter's camera at the other side of the room. The flash from the shutter also seemed to have alerted other guests. Security bolted towards the mab, but it was too late, he began running around like a chicken with its head cut off, snapping pictures of the other guests. A woman screamed when another flash went off. Suddenly, there was a group of cameramen at the entrance.

"Why are there reporters?"

"Wasn't this supposed to be a private event?"

Shouto looks at Y/N with concern. Her face is filled with worry. "Sir, what's going on?" "Some reporters must have snuck in. This was supposed to be a private gala."

FLASH.

A reporter snaps a picture of him and his assistant. Flinching, Y/N shielfs her face with the expensive fur.

"Pro hero Shouto! Are you dating this woman?"

Before he can respond, a security guard drags the reporter out. Shouto hears a sigh escape Y/N's face, though he notices her quaking legs and shaky breathing.

"Would you like to go somewhere quieter?"

...

Once the elevator door opens, Y/N gasps. The rooftop garden was beautiful; fragrant flowers, orchestral music playing softly on the speakers, the vibrant city lights.

Everything seemed magical.

"It's... so beautiful and peaceful here. Thank you, Todoroki-san."

Shouto smiles, relieved that she is no longer displaying signs of anxiety.

"Considering what happened in the ballroom, I thought you might appreciate the peace here. Sorry, this is the first time that the paparazzi has been so desperate that they've had to sneak in.

Taking a seat on a bench, Y/N speaks up.

"So, Todoroki-san-"

"Shouto."

"Hm?"

"Call me Shouto."

"Are you sure?"

Was Shouto sure? Y/N wasn't his lover or family, she was his assistant. But, in the moment, Shouto was absolutely sure.

"Absolutely."

"Well then, call me Y/N."

"Y/N."

"Shouto."

The corners of his mouth threaten to curve up when he hears his assistant call him by his first name. Her sweet voice, the way his name rolled naturally from her tongue, it all felt so... tender.

"So, I can imagine that you attend fancy events like this often."

Shouto nods, "Yes. Even since high school, I've had to attend events."

"You seemed so natural in there! I was so nervous, there are so many people that I look up to!"

"Really? Pro heroes?"

Y/N's smile widens as she nods.

"Mhm! I saw so many! Froppy, Uravity, Earphone Jack, Chargebolt... you even introduced me to the famous Midoriya-san and Bakugou-san!"

"All those people you mentioned, I actually attended high school with them." Shouto laughs when his assistant gasps.

"Really?!? Oh my gosh, that is so crazy but makes so much sense!"

As she rambles on, Shouto notices the stray strand of hair covering a small part of his assistant's face. Gently, he tucks it behind her ear.

'She's... gorgeous.'

And then, he hears her voice.

'I have to say it.'

"Todor-Shouto, I like you."

.

.

.

'Did she jus-' 'Oh shit.'

Y/N stands up abruptly, the boa falling off her shoulders and onto the bench.

"I'm sorry sir, I have to go!"

She runs off as fast as she can in her heels and enters the elevator. Shouto realizes what is going on and snaps out of his stunned trance. He grabs the boa and runs to her.

"Y/N, wait!"

The door shuts before he is able to stop it. Looking at the boa in his hands, he curses.

"Damn it!"

A/N: Sorry for the late update, but here's chapter 5!! It's a little different from how I usually write (in my opinion), but I hope you still enjoyed it >w< I apologize if the anxiety attack scene was not very good, I personally have not experienced such an attack nor have a written one into a story.

As usual, thank you for reading Strawberry Magic!! Chapter 6 may also take a week to be posted, but I won't abandon the series. School has started once again and I have extracurriculars, so I apologize in advance for the inconsistency! If you want to be added to the taglist, just lmk <3

~entire fic and notes written by me: fujoshirat!

Taglist (tysm <333): @boogiemansbitch, @bleedingwhiteroses222

[cc--2224]

The Singer

Pairing: Hunter x F!Reader

Summary: From the ask found here; You're a mechanic working with the Bad Batch. Cid decides to try out karaoke at her bar, but when she and the others hear your voice, she sees dollar signs while Hunter is completely awestruck.

Warnings: A ton of fluff and Hunter being a cutie, mentions of anxiety

Notes: Thank you for the ask, Anon!! As a reminder, requests are open if you'd like to make one!

Word Count: ~2.3k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added

Masterlist

"Goggles," Cid called from the other end of the bar. Tech automatically looked over his shoulder at his nickname, "Come help me a minute."

He sighed and slid off the bar stool, walking over toward Cid in no particular hurry.

You laughed quietly at his lack of enthusiasm, but your joy was quickly diminished. "You too, Screwdriver."

Your nickname that Cid oh-so-graciously bestowed upon you. You begrudgingly began to follow Tech, but you were stopped with a pull on your arm.

Hunter was holding your hand. He looked at you and smiled before you made another attempt to walk away.

He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently, before wordlessly sending you on your way.

"Nice of you to finally show up." Cid chided. "Now, I need the two of you to set this up."

One of her clawed hands rested on what looked to be just a simple a large black box.

"What is it?" You finally asked.

"A client of mine delivered it to me from Coruscant. It's a karaoke machine." She looked back and forth between yours and Tech's incredulous stares, and she shook her head. "People sing into it, and they pay me to do so. I just need you two to install it and loop it through the house speakers."

Without much more of an explanation, Cid stepped off the raised platform she planned on using as a stage and walked back toward the counter.

You and Tech got to work.

From the other room, you could hear Cid start to order people around. It seemed like she was really trying to rebrand, maybe make her bar a bit more popular.

You could hear her yell at "Bandana", "Killjoy", and "Toothpick" to start cleaning while "Muscles" and "Tiny" go to the market for supplies.

Seemed you and Tech got the easy job.

"It should be patched through now," Tech said after a while. "Can you test the microphone?"

"Sure," you nodded and stood at the microphone. "Testing one, two, how's that?"

"Well, the microphone and speakers work. Now, we need to make sure this device itself works."

"Great!" You started to step off of the platform, and Tech stopped you.

"As I said, we need to make sure the device itself works."

"What, you mean sing into it?"

"That would be the most effective test, so yes."

You froze. You were more of a sing in the shower when no one else was around type, not a sing on stage into a microphone type, not anymore.

"Why don't you test it then?"

"Because I would prefer to fix it in real time should something break."

You groaned, then walked back up onto the platform, selecting a song that you knew from the list. At least it was only people you knew in the bar after all.

Before long, the holoprojector activated, showing the words to the song you had chosen, and you sang along.

Hunter raised an eyebrow when he had heard the music and walked over to stand in the doorway between the adjoining rooms, watching and listening in awe of you.

Despite all your time as a couple, he had never heard you sing before, and he was enthralled.

Normally, feedback from microphones and too-loud music had a tendency to hurt his oversensitive ears, but he could listen to you for hours.

You caught him staring at you before long, and you did your best not to get embarrassed. Your nerves steeled when he gave you an encouraging smile.

People from outside of the bar had heard the music and peeked in, wanting to see who the voice they had heard belonged to. You kept your eyes on Hunter, knowing if you acknowledged the strangers around you, you would have frozen.

When the song ended, he clapped for you but was soon pushed out of the way by Cid.

"Why didn't you tell me you had pipes like that, Screwdriver? Could have been charging people to come see you all this time."

The trandoshan watches as the new patrons make their way over to the bar, ultimately deciding to stay awhile.

"I–I'm not, I mean, I don't sing in front of–"

She interrupted you with a wave of her hand, "Tell ya what, you sing here one night a week, I charge customers to come see you, we split the profits. You can take... thirty percent of the cut, just like your missions."

You glanced over to Hunter, and he shrugged, "It's your choice, cyare."

You swallowed any nerves you may have still had. "I'll do it for fifty."

"Forty."

"Forty-five."

Cid shook her head, then looked at you. "You've been spending too much time with these lazerbrains. Forty-five. Deal."

You weren't exactly sure what you had gotten yourself into, with Cid it really could be anything, but if it meant that you could earn a little money for your squad, then you could handle it.

...Or at least, you thought you could, up until the first night.

You stared into the mirror in the refresher. Hands clutched onto the counter, letting the water run from the faucet. Your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you were moments away from vomiting all over the red satin evening gown Cid was making you wear to "entice the crowd."

There was a quiet knock on the door, and you heard Omega call your name from the other side. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really." You admitted.

You begrudgingly opened the door, hoping she was alone, and to your delight, she was.

She gasped when she saw you, her eyes lit up when she saw your dress, but then her expression dropped when she noticed the look on your face, she knew you were scared but she didn't understand why.

"You don't really seem like the type to get stage fright."

You let out a feeble laugh, "Well, I am."

"Do you want me to get Hunter?" She took a step back, preparing to run to him.

You shook your head, "No. I don't want him to see me like this. I just... I don't do well in front of people anymore."

"Anymore?" She repeated.

"I uh... There was a time where this was what I did; moonlighting as a bar singer to pay the bills."

"So what happened?"

"There were some... unfriendly people in the crowd. They didn't like what I was doing, kept heckling me, and I let it get to me. After that, I never wanted to sing in front of a crowd again."

Omega gently took your hand, "But this time will be different. We'll be there, and if anyone tries to say anything, we'll make sure it's the last thing they say."

You couldn't help but laugh at the sentiment. There was something highly amusing about Omega making threats, her brothers had definitely rubbed off on her.

With a final sigh, you turned off the faucet. "Fine, let's get this over with."

Omega walked with you toward the bar. You could hear the dull roar of the crowd that Cid was able to amass, and the knots returned to your stomach. It wasn't just ten or twenty people. No, the bar was full.

"Oh, kriff." You said silently, scanning the crowd.

As you scanned, your heart sounded against your chest, threatening to break through, but as your eyes wandered to the front near the platform, your stomach untied itself.

A pair of warm, brown eyes gazed back at you. Eyes you had looked into countless times, eyes that had seen you in some of your worst moments, and in some of your best. Hunter's eyes.

He looked you up and down when he saw you, admiring the dress you wore, though he would only admit to you that the visual of you in that dress had caused his mouth to go dry.

"Wow! Look at you!" Wrecker's voice boomed over the idle chatter of the patrons, drawing your attention away from Hunter. "You've never dressed up before!"

"I believe her attire was chosen in order to help Cid meet her target revenue. It does not seem like something she would have chosen herself."

"It wasn't my intention to dress up at all," you countered Wrecker, agreeing with Tech.

"Still! You look nice!"

You smiled at Wrecker's compliment before meeting Hunter's gaze once more. His mouth was slightly opened like he was going to say something, but nothing came out.

"She cleans up well, doesn't she?" Crosshair said quietly, smirking beside him. "Might want to pick your jaw up from the floor."

Hunter shot him a warning look at his brother, who responded by shaking his head, smirk still plastered on his lips, before disappearing into the crowd.

You swallowed before stepping onto the platform.

"H-Hello, everyone," you greeted into the mic. "Who's ready to hear some Sy Snootles?"

No reaction.

"Sorry, that was a joke..." You clarified. A few people then laughed, likely out of pity.

Nerves continued bubbling up in your stomach until you met eyes with Hunter again, and you could feel them fizzling away.

He gave you an encouraging nod and you inhaled deeply before the music began.

The next few minutes were a blur.

You were certain that your voice was shaking as you sang, that you were out of key, that you weren't breathing correctly, that something had gone wrong, but when the music ended, the audience had filled the bar with applause.

You had half a mind to pinch yourself to ensure you weren't dreaming. Instead, you looked around at everyone before you noticed the proud look on Hunter's face.

"Thank you," you said into the mic. "I'll do a couple more, if that's alright."

The next song was met with more of the same reaction, and when you took another look at the audience, you could see there were even more people.

Cid must be happy. You thought to yourself.

For the last song of your night, you had decided to choose a song that meant a lot to you. One that you had shown to Hunter on your first actual date.

You kept your eye on him as soon as the music started. You saw the realization in his eyes fade into adoration. A smile tugged at his lips as you began to sing.

Omega looked at you, then up at Hunter, smiling to herself while shaking her head.

When the song ended, Hunter was the first to applaud. He started walking toward the platform, followed by his brothers, as you had thanked the audience and stepped off.

Cid reminded everyone that they can still have a shot with the karaoke machine at a price of two credits per song. The majority of the patrons decided to stay and sing for themselves.

She walked toward you and the Batch, patting your shoulder. "Well, you did it, Screwdriver. You made me a ton of money. How would you feel about making this a weekly thing? Forty-five percent of the profits each time?"

"Maybe a monthly thing." You told her, still feeling a little nauseated from the whole event.

"Too bad, I think Bandana here would be our top paying customer to hear you sing every week." She laughed and walked back to pour some drinks.

"I–I" Hunter stammered.

"Aww, he's flustered!" Wrecker shouted, making Hunter feel even more embarrassed as he tried to shut his brother up.

"You are indicating high levels of dopamine and serotonin, and your face appears to be flushed. Wrecker's analysis is correct." Tech smirked to himself, adjusting his goggles.

"If I didn't already know, I'd say you've got a crush." Crosshair joined in the teasing.

"No, I–"

Your eyes widen slightly when Hunter denies it. You were a little past the "crushing" phase of your relationship, but it was still a strange outburst. He wasn't the best at expressing how he was feeling, and you could tell the teasing wasn't helping. Plus, him getting so flustered over you put a smile on your face.

"I think we should leave them alone," Omega suggested. "At least for now, we can tease them later."

Hunter looked sheepishly at you. "Let's go outside."

You nodded, and he took you by the hand, leading you into the alleyway.

You barely got two steps out before his lips crashed into yours.

He held onto your waist tightly, afraid that if he let go, you'd float away. Your hands found themselves tangles in his hair as you returned the kiss.

"I'm sorry," He said, after his lips left yours. "I didn't mean to say no to that, I just.."

He sighed and shook his head.

"Their teasing doesn't normally get to me, but when you're looking like that, and singing like that, I didn't know what to say."

"Hunter, it's okay, I'm not mad." You assured him. "I thought it was cute that you were blushing so much."

He looked at you with a warm smile, "You didn't really give me much of a choice. The way you sang, the song, the audience cheering for you. I was just... I'm so proud of you. And the dress, I know you didn't pick it for yourself, but red suits you."

"Does it? Maybe I'll keep it then."

He smiles at you then caresses your face with the soft touch of his hand. His eyes met yours, it looked like he was searching for something but you didn't know what.

"I love you." He said after a brief silence.

"You... what?" Neither of you had said that yet in your relationship. You felt it, but it never seemed like the right time.

"I love you." He repeated, his voice still as clear and sure as it was the first time.

"Hunter... I love you too." Your arms wrapped around him as you buried yourself in his chest.

He hugged you back, holding your head against him.

"Hey uh..." He began.

"Hmm?"

"Think you can sing for me sometime?" His voice was quiet. He was nervous to even ask.

"I just did." You smiled.

"No, I mean... just us, no Cid, no strangers. Just me and you."

You tilted your head back to look into his eyes. "Whenever you'd like."