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prettyobsessed · 2 months

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Part 1: .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 💫Constellations of Affection💖.˳·˖✶

☁︎/ pairings: Xavier / fem!reader

☾ / genre: romantic, fluff [sfw, safe for minors]

₊˚ / tags: safe for work, safe for minors, contains swear words, slight flirtations mentioned, fluff, romantic, sweet Xavier, angry Xavier, friendship blossoming, best friends to lovers, slow burn, continuation, fight scene, past relationship turmoil, self-improvement, drowning in work, hectic work life, kisses, hugs, super gentle

♡ / word count: 5.3k

₊⊹summary₊˚⊹

Amidst the whirlwind of a bustling life, I find solace in the unwavering presence of Xavier, my steadfast friend and protector. Despite harbouring feelings for him, I guard my heart, scarred by past relationships. As our bond deepens, I grapple with the desire to reveal my true feelings. Will I find the courage to confront my fears and express my love to Xavier?

﹌﹌﹌

As I pull away from the hug, Xavier's arms remain wrapped around me, holding me close with a tenderness that fills my heart with warmth. His gaze meets mine, and in those kind eyes, I see a reflection of the love and care he has always shown me. "Thank you for staying,” I whisper, my voice barely above a soft murmur, but the sincerity behind the words is unmistakable.

𓍢ִ໋୧🍵 ⋅₊˚*ੈ♡⸝⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭୧ ˙

In the bustling city of Linkon, where neon lights danced upon the urban landscape, I found solace amidst the chaos in the form of Xavier, my steadfast best friend and protector. Xavier, a Deepspace hunter dedicated to protecting civilians like myself from Wanderers, became my protector and confidant after our first encounter on a bridge near Linkon City four years ago.

Our friendship blossomed from then onwards, where we would escape the confines of our busy lives to gaze upon the stars, lost in the beauty of the night sky. Our nights are often spent together, stargazing from rooftops, sharing our hopes, dreams, and even secrets. Sometimes, Xavier would even take naps on my lap and give me gentle head pats, sending a flutter through my heart.

Amidst our shared reveries under the celestial canopy, Xavier would playfully bestow upon me various endearing nicknames, but none resonated with me as deeply as being called Princess. Whenever the word slipped from his lips, the sweet and sultry timbre of his voice carried a softness and affection that enveloped me like a comforting embrace—making me feel truly cherished.

His presence brought a sense of calm amidst the storm of my hectic life, a beacon of light in the darkness of uncertainty. I couldn't help but feel captivated by his mysterious aura, finding him irresistibly charming and attractive.

Yet, despite these intimate moments, our relationship never progresses beyond friendship.

Despite the blossoming of affection within me, I find myself paralysed by the fear of opening my heart once more. The scars of past relationships still linger, casting a shadow of doubt over my longing for something more with Xavier. I tread carefully, concealing the depth of my emotions beneath a carefully crafted facade, praying that Xavier won't decipher the hidden turmoil beneath the surface.

Every interaction with Xavier becomes a delicate balancing act, a choreographed dance of veiled glances and cautious words. I hold my breath, fearing that the slightest slip-up will betray the secret longing I harbor within.

Yet, with each passing moment in his presence, the yearning to unburden my heart grows stronger, the desire to lay bare my soul to him almost overwhelming.

But the spectre of past heartaches looms large, haunting my every thought and action. I am burdened by the fear of repeating past mistakes, trapped by the dread of disappointment and heartbreak. And so, I remain ensnared in a silent struggle, grappling with the conflicting desires to both reveal and conceal the depths of my heart.

As a dedicated professional in the fast-paced world of the fashion industry, I often find myself immersed in a multitude of responsibilities. My days are characterised by a constant juggle of tasks, from meeting deadlines to surpassing expectations set by clients and colleagues alike. The pace is relentless, with back-to-back meetings, creative brainstorming sessions, and meticulously planned photoshoots demanding my unwavering focus and dedication.

Despite the chaotic nature of my professional life, Xavier remains a steadfast and unwavering source of support. His presence serves as a calming anchor amidst the turbulent waters of my daily routine. Whether it's offering a sympathetic ear during moments of stress or providing a reassuring smile to lift my spirits, his unwavering support is a beacon of light in the midst of my busiest days.

Xavier often frequented my apartment, and during moments of respite, I eagerly seized the opportunity to unveil my creations to him, transforming our time together into impromptu fashion shows. With each meticulously crafted garment, I sensed a subtle tension electrifying the air between us, prompting me to ponder whether it was merely the allure of the dresses drawing us closer or the unspoken emotions simmering beneath the surface.

There was a particular allure about skirts that seemed to captivate Xavier's attention. I recall one instance when I slipped into a mini skirt, his eyes lighting up with unmistakable admiration.

His excitement was palpable, and he couldn't contain his enthusiasm, clapping his hands in delight. Even as I changed into another outfit, he couldn't seem to shake the image from his mind, insisting that I don the mini skirt again for a closer look.

A mischievous spark ignited within me, nudging me to flirt back with him. Succumbing to both his charm and my own playful inclinations, I obliged, slipping back into the mini skirt and performing a slow spin that allowed him to drink in every detail.

As I stood before him, adorned in the mini skirt, I could feel his gaze lingering on me, his breath caught in awe. It was as though in that moment, the fabric of the skirt became a conduit for unspoken desires, weaving a silent narrative of longing and admiration between us. With a coy smile, I couldn't resist teasing him, suggesting that perhaps he was too enamoured with the mini skirt.

The tension between us felt noticeable, and I sought refuge in the familiarity of casual attire, hoping to diffuse the charged atmosphere and regain a sense of normalcy—though deep down, I secretly relished the idea of indulging his request.

—

Sometimes, after particularly hectic days at the office, Xavier kindly offers to give me a lift, his bike a welcome respite from the chaos of my workday. Even on days when Xavier himself seems exhausted, he always maintains a vigilant watch on the road, ensuring our safety as we navigate the bustling city streets together.

Sensitive to my needs, Xavier never rides too fast, understanding my tendency to experience motion sickness. This consideration speaks volumes about his thoughtfulness and care, as he ensures our mode of transportation aligns with my comfort, sparing me the discomfort that often accompanies other forms of travel such as cars or taxis. Hence, I usually prefer taking the train—it offers a more stable and soothing journey, allowing me to arrive at our destination feeling relaxed and without any adverse effects.

Despite the occasional setbacks, our bond only grew stronger, anchored by shared moments of laughter and quiet contemplation beneath the twinkling city lights.

—

It was on one such evening, as we lay side by side on the rooftop of my apartment building, that Xavier posed a question that caught me off guard. He lay beside me, his thoughts growing louder with each passing moment.

"Can I ask you a question? What do you think of me?" His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken meaning, and I felt my heart race with uncertainty. His eyes danced in the moonlight, a shimmering reflection of his soul, seeking answers within the depths of mine. Caught off guard by his sudden inquiry, I searched for the right words to convey the depth of my feelings for him. But as I stumbled over my response, I found myself unable to articulate the truth that lay buried within my heart.

"Honestly?" I began, my voice tinged with uncertainty. “I think you're… amazing.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips as I struggled to find the right words. "Your selflessness, your love for animals, and your unwavering presence shines through in every action... whether it's kindness or lending a helping hand to a friend in need. You're a rare gem in a world full of ordinary stones, and I cherish every moment we spend together.

Everything about you is so ho-“ I stuttered, the word "hot" lingering on the tip of my tongue, before quickly correcting myself. "Cool. Everything about you is cool. It's one of the many reasons why I admire you so deeply and… I’m really proud to call you my best friend.”

As I awaited Xavier's response, a wave of apprehension washed over me, my mind swirling with doubts and insecurities. But before I could question his reaction, he deftly changed the subject. "Haha," he chuckled softly, his words masking the disappointment that flickered in his eyes. "Best friend... I see," he echoed, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I tried to make sense of his words.

What was that. What is going on? Was I simply reading too much into it—into his reaction? Before I could seek clarification, Xavier changed the subject, his bright facade masking turmoil within.

"Let's go! It's getting late. I’m getting sleepy already," he remarked with a fake yawn, his voice cheerful despite the underlying tension between us. I nodded, the faint rumble of approaching trains echoing through the station, heightening the urgency in his words. As we boarded the train together, the worn fabric seats welcomed us with a familiar embrace, their faded texture a testament to years of commuter traffic.

Xavier settled beside me, his presence comforting yet unnerving in the dimly lit carriage. I stole a glance at his reflection in the window, the soft hum of the train's engine creating a cocoon of sound around us. He rested his head on my shoulder, his breaths steady and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within me.

What did he mean by ‘Best friend…I see’? The question echoed in my mind, refusing to be silenced as I grappled with the uncertainty of our relationship. Did he also see me as more than just a friend? Or was I simply projecting my own desires onto a friendship that was never meant to be anything more?

The weight of my thoughts pressed heavily upon me as I journeyed home, the rhythmic sound of the train's wheels against the tracks serving as a backdrop to my inner turmoil. I wanted so desperately to reach out to Xavier, to confess the depth of my feelings for him, but the fear of rejection held me back, chaining me to the confines of my own insecurities.

And so, as the train rumbled onward into the night, I was left alone with my thoughts, grappling with the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring. For better or for worse, Xavier had become an indelible part of my life, his presence shaping my world in ways I had never imagined possible.

—

That night, as I lay on my bed, memories of my past relationship flooded my mind like an unwelcome torrent. Two years spent together, believing we were destined to be each other's forever, shattered in an instant when my ex-boyfriend cheated on me with my own best friend. Every whispered secret, every shared laugh, now tainted with the sting of betrayal—an irreparable fracture.

The bitter taste of betrayal tainted my perception of love, leaving me disillusioned and wary of entering another relationship.

My days became a relentless cycle of pushing myself to the limit, both physically and mentally. Yet, despite my outward transformation, the pain of betrayal lingered like a stubborn shadow, threatening to consume me at every turn. That day, I found myself unable to hold back the tears as they streamed down my face upon discovering the truth, each drop a poignant reflection of the depth of my heartache.

To escape the tormenting memories, I buried myself in work, immersing myself in tasks and projects with unwavering determination. I also poured my energy into crafting my own set of outfits as a hobby. But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, the ache of heartbreak remained a constant companion—a haunting reminder of the love lost and the trust shattered.

Yet, just when hope seemed all but lost, a flicker of light appeared on the horizon. That is, a year after the devastation of my past, I met Xavier. His presence breathed new life into my world, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of my despair. Little did I know, he would become the beacon of love and healing that I had long believed to be lost.

As I pondered back to Xavier's words, my eyelids grew heavy with fatigue. Soon, I surrendered to the embrace of sleep, diving into its depths.

—

Ever since then, life became a whirlpool—sucking me into its chaotic currents. It's my typical coping mechanism to bury myself in work, a futile attempt to escape thoughts of Xavier. Days blurred into nights filled with endless work and overtime, a relentless cycle that offered temporary distraction. Then, amidst the hustle, a familiar ping broke through the monotony—a text from Xavier. ‘Princess. U busy? I’m craving for soba noodles suddenly. Wanna eat 2gt?' his messages popped up one by one. Again, his simple words stirred a flutter of emotions within me, and I couldn't help but blush.

Xavier's persistent attempts to meet up tugged at my heartstrings, but I resisted, afraid to deepen my feelings for him and disrupt the delicate balance of our relationship. ‘Kinda tired tonight. Another day okie? Sorry🤍’, I replied, my fingers tapping out the message with a weariness that mirrored my exhaustion. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me as I left the office well past midnight.

The city streets, usually bustling with life, now felt eerily deserted as I made my way to the train station. Boarding the train homeward, fatigue threatened to pull me into slumber. The train's bell-like chime jolted me awake as it announced my stop, piercing through the haze of fatigue that clouded my mind.

I alighted at my stop, the deserted train station casting eerie shadows in the late-night silence. Each step echoed off the empty walls, my weariness dragging me down like an anchor as I trudged wearily up the stairs. Thoughts raced through my mind, a tumultuous whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling in the darkness of the night.

As I ascended to the top of the stairs, exhaustion bore down on my shoulders, threatening to engulf me. Abruptly, a figure emerged from the shadows, jolting me out of my reverie. Before I could react, we collided.

Nearly stumbling backward, my heart raced in my chest as I struggled to comprehend the situation. With a shaky hand, I reached out to steady myself against the railing. "Watch where you're going, dumbass.” The harshness of this rugged-looking stranger voice pierced the stillness, stirring a knot of anxiety in my stomach. It was a jarring encounter, snapping me out of my tired stupor and reminding me of the harsh realities of the world outside my bubble of work and avoidance.

“I’m so sor-“, my voice trailed off. As I strained to identify the source of the voice, a sense of dread crept over me. The intonation, the cadence—it all felt uncomfortably familiar. Oh no. With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I peered closer, and there he was: Leon, his presence like a ghost from my past, haunting me in the dead of night.

For a moment, I was frozen in shock, unable to comprehend how our paths had crossed again after all these years. But then, as his words registered in my mind, I felt a surge of anger rising within me, pushing aside the fear that threatened to consume me. “Wait… (your name), is that you?” Leon's voice cut through the tension, his tone filled with surprise and a hint of uncertainty. "Leon," I replied, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Trying to ease the tension, I added, “I almost didn’t recognise you.”

But before he could answer, his demeanour shifted, his eyes softening with an emotion I couldn't quite place. “(Your name)…” he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry." His unexpected apology caught me off guard, momentarily halting my rising fury. But as I struggled to process his sudden change in attitude, he reached out to grab both my arms, his presence, like a repulsive chill, sent waves of disgust through me.

“It’s been years and I still miss you,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Can't we just talk?"

I recoiled at his touch, feeling repulsed by the memories of our tumultuous past flooding back. "No," I said firmly, my voice edged with apprehension. "We can't." But as I attempted to pull away, his grip tightened like a vice, his fingers digging into my skin with a disturbing intensity. "Please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation and a hint of madness. "I really miss you."

In that moment, panic flooded through me, memories of past betrayal threatening to overwhelm once again as I attempted to break free from his touch. Leon's expression turned aggressive, his grip tightening on my arms as I struggled to break free. I attempted to flee from his grasp, but he wouldn’t relent.

Leon's voice erupted into a furious crescendo, each word dripping with venomous anger. "Bitch! You think you're hot shit now? Who are you fucking now, huh?” His aggressive tone sent shockwaves of fear coursing through me, urging me to escape his tightening grip. Desperation clawed at my mind as I screamed for help, the haunting memories of our tumultuous past intensifying the terror of the present moment.

Summoning a surge of determination, I gathered every ounce of resolve within me, channeling it into a fierce effort to break free from Leon's suffocating grip. With a desperate lunge, I wrenched myself from his grasp, feeling the weight of his hold relinquish as I staggered downward, my heart pounding with the urgency of escape.

The reverberation of my voice in the desolate station amplified the intensity of my fear. I struggled against Leon's vice-like grip, panic coursing through me as I frantically scanned the empty surroundings for any sign of assistance. Yet, the late hour rendered the station eerily deserted, devoid of any potential saviours. In the grip of terror, my thoughts instinctively turned to Xavier, the one person I yearned to have by my side in that moment. The memory of his unwavering strength and protective presence ignited a flicker of courage within me. Drawing upon every ounce of resolve, I broke free from Leon's grasp, staggering backward in a desperate bid for escape.

“Get away from me!" I cried out, my voice trembling with a potent mix of fear and fury. As I darted up the stairs to get to the street and find help, my heart pounding in my ears, Leon's menacing presence loomed behind me. With a sudden, forceful movement, he seized hold of my hair, his grip unyielding and merciless—anchoring me to the ground with a jolt of pain and terror.

I found myself sprawled on the unforgiving ground, my arms instinctively forming a feeble barrier against Leon's relentless assault. With every ounce of determination I could muster, I unleashed a powerful kick aimed squarely at his groin. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through his body, doubling him over in agony, his knees crashing to the ground as a guttural cry escaped his lips.

Despite the adrenaline-fueled panic coursing through my veins and the tremors that racked my body, I persisted in my struggle against him, each futile attempt to break free intensifying the sense of desperation and urgency in the air.

Leon's face contorted into a menacing snarl as he regained his composure. He lunged towards me once more, but before he could reach me, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Xavier. With his imposing presence and determined stance, Xavier swiftly intercepted, closing the distance between us and Leon with remarkable speed. Without hesitation, he delivered a powerful punch to my attacker—his silhouette blurring with the force of his strike.

His usually gentle gaze now burned with an intense darkness as he confronted Leon, ready to protect me at all costs.

“Fucking coward,” Xavier spat, his eyes blazing with anger as he delivered another forceful blow to Leon's face. “Don’t you fucking dare lay a finger on her again.” With each punch, Xavier's resolve only seemed to strengthen, his determination to defend me evident in the unwavering force behind his blows.

Xavier subdued Leon with practiced ease, pinning him to the ground. The weight of his authority was palpable in the air.

As Xavier continued to rain down blows upon Leon, the sound of fists meeting flesh echoed in the dimly lit space. It punctuated the tension with each impactful strike. It was a visceral dance of justice against brutality, a raw display of Xavier's resolve to protect me. The sight of Leon, bloodied and bruised, bore witness to Xavier's unwavering commitment to my safety.

Never before had I seen Xavier so consumed by rage. It was as though he had transformed into an entirely different person, his usual calm demeanour replaced by a ferocity that I had never witnessed before.

Leon, now all bloodied up, stared up at Xavier in shock and disbelief. His bravado shattered by the force of Xavier's righteous fury.

“If you’re anywhere near her or touch her again, I’m gonna make sure you won’t see the daylight,” Xavier warned, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction, leaving no room for doubt or negotiation.

With fear etched on his face, Leon scrambled to his feet and bolted in the opposite direction as fast as his legs could carry him.

With Leon's retreat, the tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a heavy silence broken only by the faint sounds of the night. Xavier's gaze lingered on the spot where Leon had stood, his expression a mix of resolve and concern.

Turning towards me, his face a portrait of pure concern, I could still see the remnants of his earlier anger simmering beneath the surface.

"Are you hurt?" Xavier's voice softened with genuine concern as he focused his attention on me, his hand reaching out to gently cradle my cheek. His touch was warm against my skin, a soothing balm to the chaos that had unfolded moments before. I shook my head, my breaths ragged as I leaned against the solid cement pillar for support. As I attempted to rise, Xavier's reassuring presence steadied me, his strong arms providing stability. Gratitude flooded through me, knowing that once again, Xavier had rushed to my aid, much like that pivotal night at the bridge.

"Thank you… Xav," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling with emotion as I met his gaze. "How did you know where I was?" I asked, my heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. Xavier's expression softened, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and concern. "I was worried about you," he replied, his voice gentle yet firm, a comforting hand supporting my back. “I just had a feeling something wasn't right, so I wanted to check on you. I'm relieved I found you when I did."

Despite the lingering rush of adrenaline, I found solace in Xavier's protective presence and his timely intervention.

Xavier's eyes scanned my face, his brow furrowed with genuine worry as he assessed my injuries. "We need to make sure you're alright," he insisted softly, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. Taking my hand in his, he effortlessly hoisted me onto his back, his actions speaking volumes about his commitment to my well-being. As we hurried through the quiet night together, Xavier bearing my weight, a sense of security enveloped me in his embrace. Despite the lingering fear and uncertainty, I found solace in relying on him for support, grateful for his unwavering strength and care.

"I can walk just fine, you know... You don’t have to carry me," I admitted sheepishly, a blush tinting my cheeks as I acknowledged my dependency, my face nestled between his shoulder and neck. Xavier's gaze shifted slightly as he turned his head, locking eyes with me in a reassuring manner. "I want to make sure you receive proper care. We're heading to the hospital to have your injuries checked," he explained calmly, his voice filled with determination to ensure my well-being.

“You’re so dramatic, it’s just a scratch!” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Xavier sighed and replied, "Ok fine, but let’s at least go to the nearby clinic?" I nodded in agreement, grateful for his compromise and his insistence on ensuring my well-being.

With each step, his purposeful stride conveyed his unwavering resolve to take care of me, easing my apprehension about seeking medical attention. The cool night air enveloped us as we moved forward, Xavier's presence providing a comforting shield against the uncertainty that lingered in the darkness.

—

After receiving care and ointments from the clinic, Xavier accompanies me all the way back to my apartment, ensuring my safety with his tender manner and attentive care. With each step, his strength supports me, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the swirling storm of emotions within me. As he guides me through the door, his touch is reassuring, grounding me in the reality of his protective embrace.

Once inside, Xavier assists me in removing my shoes and leads me to my bedroom with a confident, fluid grace. As he settles me onto the bed, his expression shifts between concern and determination, evident in the focused way he prepares to apply the ointment to my scratch.

"Wait," I interject, sitting up. "I'd like to shower first. I don't feel comfortable resting on my bed in my outside clothes."

Xavier nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting his unwavering support. "Of course. Would you like me to leave then?" he asks, gesturing towards the door with a gentle motion.

I pause, considering how to express my desire for his company. However, honesty prevails in my mind. “No, please stay," I reply, grateful for his presence. "Could you help me blow dry my hair after?" Xavier's surprise is evident, but a soft smile graces his lips as he realises I trust him enough to ask for his assistance. "Of course," he says, his voice warm with reassurance.

Stepping into the shower, the warm water envelops me in a comforting embrace. Thoughts of Xavier flood my mind, his timely arrival a beacon of hope in my darkest moment. Gratitude swells within me for his unwavering support, though questions about how he found me linger in the recesses of my mind.

Once refreshed and renewed, I search for Xavier and find him peacefully asleep on my couch. Bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, his expression is serene, imbuing the room with a sense of calm. Drawing closer, I marvel at the tranquility that surrounds him, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm in the stillness of the night.

Studying his features, I notice the gentle fall of his hair and the subtle curve of his lips softened in slumber. A small leaf rests atop his head, a whimsical detail that brings a smile to my lips. As I reach out to remove it, a droplet of water from my hair lands on his chest, causing him to stir and awaken.

Xavier blinks sleepily, his gaze softening with warmth as he focuses on me. “I-I’m sorry!” I stammer, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up my cheeks. "I didn't mean to disturb your sleep. There was a leaf on your head, and I simply wanted to remove it. Look!” I explain, holding up the leaf as evidence. He chuckles softly, the sound carrying a warmth that melts away any lingering tension.

"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress, softened by the lingering tendrils of sleep, yet resonating with a sincerity that soothes my unease. As he unfurls from his slumber-induced cocoon, the fabric of his shirt tautens, tracing the contours of his toned abdomen with a subtle grace. A delicate flush of warmth blossoms across my cheeks, suffusing them with a soft, ethereal glow, like the first blush of dawn.

With a quiet determination, Xavier rises to his feet, a stalwart figure against the backdrop of uncertainty. The ointment, a healing elixir, already nestled in his hand, ready to tend to the tender wounds etched upon my skin. His touch is gentle yet purposeful, each movement deliberate as he tends to my grazed cheek and elbows, a silent vow of protection and care woven into his actions.

“Now, where can I find your hair dryer?” Xavier asks, his eagerness evident in the sparkle of his eyes and the gentle curve of his lips. The dim light of the room casts soft shadows across his features, adding to his allure as he waits patiently for my response.

Guiding him to the location of my hair dryer, I make my way to the kitchen to prepare some refreshments. The aroma of chocolate muffins wafts through the air as they warm up in the oven, filling the kitchen with a tantalising scent. Meanwhile, I carefully brew a fragrant cup of green tea, the steam rising gently from the cup as it steepens.

Returning to my room with the refreshments in hand, I find Xavier already waiting. With a warm smile, I place the food and drink on my side table, gesturing for him to sit on my dressing stool while I settle onto the bed beside him. As he inspects the wetness of my hair, I can't help but notice the soft glow of the streetlights seeping through the window, casting a tranquil ambiance over the room.

Handing him the hair dryer, I set it to medium heat and watch as Xavier meticulously blow-dries my hair with the brush I provided. Each movement is executed with care and tenderness, his focused attention ensuring my comfort throughout the process. Xavier playfully teases me about the small leaf in his hair, insisting I placed it there, to which I respond with mock offense, playfully stuffing a chocolate muffin into his mouth. Laughter fills the room, muffled by the treat, as we enjoy this lighthearted moment together.

“All done,” Xavier announces with a smile as he switches off the hair dryer.

Throughout the interaction, I can't help but feel a sense of warmth and affection for Xavier, grateful for his unwavering support and the comfort of his presence. The glimmer of streetlights seeps through the window, casting a soft glow on Xavier's features, particularly his blue eyes. In that moment, a tranquil stillness envelops my apartment.

As the sound of the hair dryer fades, I rise from my stool and move towards Xavier, who remains seated on my bed. I wrap my arms around him in a heartfelt embrace, my gratitude overflowing for his timely rescue. Overwhelmed by my emotions, I surrender to the warmth of the moment with Xavier. With a gentle kiss planted on his cheek, I convey the depth of my appreciation, cherishing this intimate connection between us.

Xavier's warm smile softens his features, his eyes brimming with tenderness as he gently reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. "Princess, from this moment forward, I vow to protect you wherever life may lead," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that brings peace to my soul. Nestled in our peaceful embrace, cocooned in warmth and affection, I realise the depth of the bond between us. This connection is precious, a beacon of light in the darkness of uncertainty.

With a contented sigh, I nuzzle closer to Xavier, guiding his head to rest on my chest, where he finds solace in the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. His arms around me are a sanctuary, offering solace and comfort in a world of chaos. And in that moment, I know with unwavering certainty that I am exactly where I belong.

Moved by the depth of my emotions, I lift Xavier’s head to meet my gaze, cupping his chin with my hand, and without a word, I press my lips softly against his, sealing our love with a tender kiss. It's a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes, expressing all the love and gratitude that fills my heart. As our kiss deepens, I feel a sense of completeness wash over me, as if I've finally found my home in Xavier's embrace.

Reluctantly parting, breathless and exhilarated, a sparkle in Xavier's eyes reflects the emotions swirling within my own heart. In the lingering sweetness of our embrace, I know that our love will endure, steadfast and true, through every twist and turn that life may bring.

—by prettyobsessed⋆˚✿˖°

Editor’s note: So sorry! Work has been so hectic, but I hope this piece that I wrote will make your heart flutter♡

It’s for my Xavier gurlies; those who love his gentle side. Will Part 2 show more of a darker side to him? Stay tuned! For a bad boy Xavier ✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧

On a side, side note: I realise I enjoy writing slow burn scenarios. Do you guys prefer a fast-paced one instead? Feel free to let me know!

—

this content is copyrighted by @prettyobsessed. all rights are reserved. it is prohibited to replicate, imitate, plagiarise, or repost my content on any other platform without authorisation. translations are also not permitted unless proper credit is given🌷

162 notes · View notes

aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

hello, I thank you very much for what you do, I wanted to please ask recommendations of fan fics that are romantic, the most romantic there are, I would appreciate them a lot 💕

Hi. Here are some romantic fics for you...

Five Times Crowley Fell Asleep and the One Time Aziraphale Did Too by toastergrove (NR)

Five times Crolwey has fallen asleep and one time Aziraphale did too. It's very a fluffy and cute little fic

The Very Second Day of the Rest of Their Lives by AntiquarianAndUnusual (T)

It's the first Monday since the Armageddon That Never Was, and Crowley and Aziraphale start their new lives out with the quiet, gentle, and almost romantic morning they deserve.

Never Too Late by AppleSeeds (T)

It's been thirty-five years since the height of Aziraphale's enormous crush on rockstar Anthony Crowley, but when he sees that Anthony is still performing, Aziraphale feels he owes it to his younger self not to pass up the opportunity to finally hear him sing live. The last thing he expects is for Anthony to actually approach him once the concert is over, extending an invitation that surpasses every fantasy Aziraphale harboured about him as a young man and resulting in the most memorable night of his life.

天明 (Tenmei) by angelsnuffbox (T)

“This, right now, could be one of those moments you’ll look back on in ten years and wonder what could have happened, how the night could have gone if you’d taken that strikingly handsome man’s offer of a night stroll around Tokyo.” “You certainly like to flatter yourself.” A rush of relief went through him now that Aziraphale looked more relaxed. “All I’m saying is, wouldn’t you rather look back and know how the night went instead?” “You’re actually serious.” “Say yes to me, Aziraphale, and I’ll make you the happiest you’ve ever been — at least for tonight.”

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“Bit of an odd tradition, if you ask me,” he said, if not to get his mind off the longing that had settled in his chest. Aziraphale shrugged. “I think it’s rather sweet. A kiss for good luck. Seems a nice way to start the year. Very human.” Crowley nodded. “Can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, that lot. Always finding excuses. First it’s mistletoe at Christmas, then it’s luck for the New Year…” “Well there’s no need to be so grouchy about it,” Aziraphale said. “I think it’s lovely.” Crowley’s heart ached a little more as he watched Aziraphale smile up at the glowing numbers on the building above them. Yeah, he thought, lovely. Five times Crowley thought about kissing Aziraphale on New Year's Eve, and one time he did.

Pictures of You by AnnetheCatDetective (M) (WIP)

It starts with a well-meaning gift, and a hopeful invitation. Mod note: While this one is technically a likely-abandoned WIP, it does end in a satisfying place

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #romance #fluff #romantic fluff #mod d

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sigyns-drafts · 5 months

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Hey there, can I request for ROR anubis x modern reader where the reader is bored and try to summon anubis for fun and think it wouldn't work, but it end up working and now there a random Anubis in her room feel free to add what after this ~ thank you

A/N: Gladly anon! I'd love to write about silly little nubby. Hope it's what you wanted ♡

The unlikely jackal-headed companion 🐺🎃

Ror!Anubis x fem!reader

➩ A modern day girl who's favourite interest had always been Egyptian mythology, especially the god Anubis.

Found her adult life to be rather boring, so when she stumbled upon a website that could help her summon these ancient gods.

For fun she tries it, not expecting it to work until she is proven wrong and now Anubis himself has entered the mortal realm, as well as her home.

➩ Reader type: fem!reader.

⚠: Platonic & Romantic Fluff!!

In a small suburban town, nestled between towering buildings and grey streets, lived a young lonesome woman named y/n.

She was currently seated in her room adorned with posters of ancient Egyptian art and books, filled with its fascinating mythology, gods and history.

Something y/n had been fond of ever since she was a child.

But life as an adult was rather boring now, with work and other tasks keeping her away from her interests and hobbies.

Until y/n felt that sudden urge of curiosity again, rushing through her mind and body.

Soon enough y/n found herself engrossed scrolling online, stumbling upon an online tutorial on summoning the ancient Egyptian gods.

Half out of scepticism and half out of sheer boredom, y/n decided to try the summoning ritual for Anubis.

After all, Anubis was one of her favourite deities. Y/n chuckled at the stupidity and the fact this wasn't going to work.

Because it wouldn't, right?

She gathered the necessary items - candles, incense, and a makeshift altar adorned with skulls and other trinkets she found around the house.

Thinking to herself:

"If Anubis really does exist he would definitely like these, hah!"

As y/n chanted the ancient words she had gotten from the website, with a hint of amusement, she never expected anything to happen.

But to her surprise, a sudden wind and glow enveloped the room, and a mysterious figure materialised before her.

Anubis, the god of the afterlife with his jackal head, stood before her in all his majestic glory.

Y/n eyes widened in disbelief as she stumbled backward, tripping and falling to the ground. Her heart was racing in her chest, more than ever before.

"W-What..?! That wasn't supposed to-"

Y/n stutters to herself, trying to keep her cool as she shakes uncontrollably at Anubis's presence.

Anubis, as he looked around the room slowly, taking in his new surroundings was still barely visible to really make out. Because of the sudden glow to have hit the room.

While trying to adjust her sight, y/n was certain Anubis was here to collect her soul or at least judge her heart for having called upon him as a joke.

However, to her shock when the god spoke, he sounded rather thrilled to be there.

"Well, this was unexpected and delightful!" he exclaimed, his voice resonating through the room.

It wasn't as deep and booming as y/n had imagined it sounding like.

In fact, he sounded like an excited puppy who somehow knew how to talk.

Did she hit her head when she fell and was now dreaming, or perhaps even worse had she gone mad?

Unused to being summoned in the modern world, Anubis continues to look around with childlike wonder, his dark eyes sparkling.

Y/n was almost left with her mouth wide open when she finally got to see and admire the god before her.

His head wasn't actually the head of a jackal, but instead it was his headwear!

Underneath all that he was a handsome man, with dark tanned skin, sharp teeth and piercings on his chin, but also tongue.

Y/n had to gulp and blush slightly to herself, for some reason feeling embarrassed about this humanoid form of his.

Noticing y/n's bewilderment, Anubis approached her closer with a grin, offering his hand to help the woman up.

"Greetings, mortal! I am Anubis, the guardian of the afterlife. What brings you to summon me today?"

Stammering, y/n managed to grab a hold of the gods hand reluctantly while replying, she was scared his sharp nails or claws would touch her at first.

"I... I didn't really think this would work, please forgive me my lord!"

Anubis chuckled lightly, his soft laughter was admittedly very cute making y/n's heart skip a little beat.

"The whims of mortals! Fear not, if this wasn't a part of your plan I totally understand! But if you don't mind me asking, what assistance can I be to you then?"

With a nervous expression, y/n took a deep breath and the chance to think about it.

What could she possibly come up with to make Anubis, a literal god's time, be worth the while in the mortals realm?

"I suppose..somehow entertain me? If that isn't too much to ask for of course!! It's just that, these days are quite uneventful.."

Y/n to ease her nerves starts twirling some of her hair using her index finger.

A common habit she did whenever she needed a distraction.

Anubis, realising the woman was still tense, smirks to himself and thinks about a way to help her.

"Then I am here to make your mundane day more thrilling, my lady! I see your room is decorated with quite a few familiar things."

He happily pointed out, already seeing y/n's eyes light up at his comment and sharp eye.

"Oh really?! I'm so glad you find them familiar, I was afraid it would look weird to you somehow, considering I'm not from ancient Egypt!"

"Hey, don't worry about it, I love seeing people appreciate my culture."

"Phew, what a relief..!"

"But a particular reason why I am your favourite~?" Anubis without warning teased y/n, raising his eyebrow as his face leaned in close to hers.

It felt like her whole body was about to explode and her face turned red.

Damn it! She should have prepared herself for this question considering the jackal headed gods depiction was included almost everywhere!

"W-Well, you are my favourite..!"

Y/n responded in a panic, was he seriously playing with her right now?

Was this a way to catch her off guard or to test her in some way or another?

Before y/n could say anything any further, Anubis, ever the playful deity, leaped into the air out of pure happiness.

"Yippee~!!" The god exclaimed as he accidentally landed near her.

The sudden weight caused y/n to lose her balance, and she tumbled onto the bed alongside the ancient god.

"Oh uh..that was an accident, I didn't mean to scare or get that excited!"

Anubis pleaded, genuinely upset about his actions. He quickly got off y/n but all the woman could do was sigh as she had accepted her new fate.

"Honestly, this is already keeping me entertained enough."

#writing #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fluff #romantic #romantic fluff #platonic #platonic fluff #reader x canon #reader x character #fem reader #ror anubis #snv anubis #ror x reader #Anubis #anubis x reader

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hitlikehammers · 2 months

Text

there is a tree as old as me

rating: teen tags: future fic, outside POV, trespassing, established relationship, engaged steddie💍 ✨for @kallisto-k at my BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST for the prompt: To Build A Home—The Cinematic Orchestra: 'and now, it's time to leave and turn to dust // out in the garden where we planted the seeds // there is a tree as old as me

She catches the trespassers by chance, really.

She’s awake early even for her routine, age doing nothing for the capacity to sleep in on a good day but her hip’s been a trial, and she needs buy a new mattress but Richard’s insistent he can’t bear to sleep on a stone slab, Patricia, good god—she wants to get one of those Select Comforts that splits their settings between two sides as a compromise; he argues those are for lesser mortals, which she’s long learned has evolved in recent years to mean not just that he thinks he’s above something in general, but more now that he thinks he’s better than technological advances.

And Patricia Harrington has standards, certainly, but she can also recognize when

She’s also old enough to remember when ‘new’ was an opportunity to throw her Black Card and gloat a little in the rush of the novelty, the momentary shine until the next new thing appeared to repeat the cycle.

She might be feeling her years, but she doesn’t understand when her husband got so damn old.

At least he’s still savvy enough to the time that they’ve got an airtight security system for the house itself, given the trespassers—more likely would-be-burglars, given the evaluation they’d just paid taxes on for the property—that she spies out the window, hears where she cracked the window in the kitchen to light a cigarette as she brews an early coffee.

Maybe Richard will agree to motion sensors for the yard, if she tells him about these…miscreants.

They’re moving carefully, like they don’t want to be seen, or more likely caught—suspicious, obviously—but they’re also moving like the know where they’re headed, as if they’re familiar with the space they’re traversing even in the pitch dark: even more suspect, really, and she wonders if they’ve cased the home, adds full-property camera surveillance to her list of proposals for reevaluating their security.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to—“ she barely catches the hiss from one of the criminals from across the yard, but it doesn’t last.

It doesn’t last because the second party drags the first close and: the lighting’s horrible, the moon’s crescent at best, but there’s really only one thing to be doing when two bodies press close, and then break apart with a pop she makes out on the breeze and, well. She was young, once.

“Believe it, baby,” the second trespasser rumbles low, and, oh, good god: “we gotta hit all the landmarks.”

They’re men. They’re both of them men and they were just—

“Landmarks?” the first one hisses sharper, this time, and Patricia…she doesn’t care nearly as much as Richard does about what people do in their bedrooms that she personally doesn’t agree with.

But this isn’t anyone’s own bedroom. This is her lawn.

“Of our story,” the second one, he—he—has got such curly hair she likely would have assume it was a very tall women, if it weren’t for the voice; “all our highlights.”

“What, exactly, was—“ the first man, he sounds a little exasperated as he whispers, but…fond. Fond like Patricia hasn’t heard in…well.

A very, very long time, at least.

“Here,” the curly haired fiend traipsing her property stops at a redbud tree Richard had always despised, said it looked tacky, common. Patricia canceled every removal service he’d had whichever secretary he instructed to send.

The second man turns, moves slow toward the tree before reaching, placing a hand on the trunk almost carefully, reverently. There’s something…familiar about him. The shape of his face, the way the the coif of his hair catches in shadow—

“My nanny used to tell me this tree was planted the year I was born, that it grew up with me,” and oh, oh, that’s, he’s—“so that I’d have to eat my vegetables and stuff, if I wanted to see it grow.”

He sounds so nostalgic, so soft at the edges; Patricia doesn’t know if she’s ever heard her son sound like that.

Because that’s who it is; why he seemed familiar even at a distance.

Even if she hasn’t seen or heard from Steven in nearly twenty years.

“And look at you both,” the other man, with the curly hair, he’s holding Steven by his arms, and the motion, the body language is…tender even before she hears the words filter over:

“Big and strong,” the man says, and then he’s cupping Steven’s cheek and Steven leans in so quick, like he trusts deeply, here: “fuckin’ beautiful.”

She can’t see it, not in the dark, but something tells her Steven’s smiling for the words. It makes her feel…uncomfortable.

Because it’s not as if they hadn’t seen it; she doesn’t know where Steven’s moved, where he ended up when he moved out while they were gone, left his key and a simple, terse little note about the furnace needing looked at—she only knows he’s nowhere near here, anymore, and she suspects there are some, like the former police chief and his wife, who know where he went but she never asks. She’s too proud for that.

But the point is: Steven doesn’t live in Hawkins anymore, and likely lives nowhere near Hawkins. But when The Post ran the engagement announcement it had only been implied, she’d never have been able to place is, but: when and S. Harrington and E. Munson announced their happy news in print, in a town that didn’t house people by those initials, even if it still housed residents by those family names?

Well. Patricia had suspicions. And she remembers the Munson boy largely because his hair was an unmistakable mess.

Apparently some things didn’t change.

“This,” the Munson boy, because that’s who it is, that’s who’s still cradling her son so close and so gently: “this was the first place I knew you wanted me.”

Steven’s head, she sees, still tilts just so when he’s baffled.

“What?”

“I knew you loved me like I love you, I knew that way before but you,” and the Munson boy, he pulls his hand across his face like the night isn’t doing the hiding for him. Preposterous, really.

“The urchins were inside, we were going to grab more pop to bring in and you pushed me up against this very tree,” and the boy—man, they’re men, they’ve long been men and Patricia doesn’t want to pry up the implications of how she saw no part of the becoming part of that process with her own eyes—but the man’s voice is so warm, so…smitten.

It should be nauseating. Another thing she doesn’t want to pry at is why it…isn’t. At least not quite.

“Couldn’t wait, you said, couldn’t keep you hands off me,” and he’s turning Steven, walking him back against the tree as he speaks the words, like he’s reenacting something nigh-sacred.

“And I knew that I was out of my mind with wanting you like that, on top of loving you more than fucking life baby, but,” and Munson, she can see the way he breathes in his deep for the heave in the line of his back, and she can see the way he…brushes the line of his nose back and forth against Steven’s.

Who still has her father’s nose.

“You were hard as soon as you pinned me,” and Patricia frowns at the glass, when she hears that; and she barely hears is, in fairness, it’s pitched low even as they think they’re alone which is the least they can do but they are not alone and Patrician does not need to be subjected to—

“And it was like a light switch, or a lightning bolt,” the Munson boy—they’re boys they are still boys—but the Munson boy whispers it, and sounds like he’s wondering at it;

“He loves me,” he breathes, the line of his back breathing so deep again; “and he fucking wants me.”

And no, Patricia does not need to hear that at all, but.

There is a part of her, buried somewhere, who…does miss the idea of wanting. Of being wanted. In the abstract.

“You’re absurd,” Steven snorts and oh; oh, she remembers that tone, that testy little snark that always riled Richard enough that he’d largely stomped it out of the boy but oh: Patricia did love when Steven failed to rein it in.

Because it always reminded her that Steven was her son.

She doesn’t intend to start rubbing at her chest, but it…it feels kind of tight, there, just now.

It aches, there. Just now.

“I love you,” and Steven’s voice, she’s never heard him speak with that much feeling, and it’s difficult not to…to react to even just overhearing, to eavesdropping, though in fairness: it is, again, her property.

“And I want you,” Steven leans in, and kisses at Munson’s cheek with such affection, a devotion that’s obvious, near-blinding even in the dark; “just as much now as then,” and then Steven, Steven—

He laughs.

He laughs and it’s such a light and carefree sound and it’s so foreign to Patricia’s ears that it almost makes her anxious, or something of the like.

“But then so much more, baby,” and the warmth in those words: those are foreign too.

Those feel strange to hear, not least in Steven’s voice which…

She thinks she may not have recognized, if the first thing she hear were these words, in this tone.

She’s not wholly sure how to sit with that suspicion.

“Ten days,” the Munson boy’s hands go to Steven’s hips and he rocks them back and forth a bounce in the motion, a levity.

“Ten days,” and Steven…no.

No: she would not have recognized that voice.

She would not have known her son.

“You’re gonna be my husband,” the Munson boy whispers, Patricia only hears because she’s trying to, now, she…she wants to even if it hurts unexpectedly, the tightness under her hand in her chest a pain, now, a small little stab when this man cups her son’s cheeks, cradles him so careful and so…so loving, undeniable even like this, and says what she suspected from that notice in the paper.

Steven is getting married. Steven is getting married and he is proud enough to flaunt it in a town who could never prove it, where he no longer has tied; to a a partner who is proud enough to do the same just as brazen, and she doesn’t know if she’s proud or put-off, but she does know here, now—

Steven is in love. And he is loved deeply in kind. And the person who loves him sounds in awe at the idea of pledging forever not as a contract, but maybe more as a privilege.

She wasn’t paying attention for a strand of seconds as she acknowledged this, and decided ultimately to stop trying to do anything deeper than just that.

But she sees them pull apart; they’d been kissing the entire time she’d been thinking it through.

She isn’t even interested in acknowledging the…niggling little feeling of that kind of prolonged affection, let alone the way they reach for each other, steady each other in the coming apart, as if they have no desire to wholly come apart.

The idea of trusting another pair of hands like it looks as if they do, in the dim of these early hours, is…another foreign thing.

“Okay, okay,” the Munson boy laughs, no, giggles; “let’s get out of here before the owners notice.”

And he turns, would meet her eyes if he could see her; she knows he can’t, knows she’s standing just beyond the capacity to be caught and how absurd, caught inside her own house.

But then he’s turned away again; the house, and whatever it holds, far less compelling than the man at his side.

“Wayne’s place?” Steven’s asking and the Munson boy grabs his hand, lifts it to his mouth.

“Yeah,” the Munson boy says so low, so soft and sweet; “we can hit some more landmarks before that bagel joint he likes opens, we can take him breakfast.”

“More landmarks?” Steven sounds baffled, but so very fond and his partner doesn’t let go of his hand once, reels him in to peck his cheek.

“Of course, sweetheart,” the Munson boy nearly…purrs, how ridiculous; “so many. Because we’ve got one hell of a story.”

But ridiculous or no: the moon shifts out from the clouds as they make to scamper off the lawn and Patricia sees her son’s face for the first time in decades, now, and oh.

Oh: she’s never seen him smile like that. Not…not once.

She turns away, because the sting in her chest burns behind her eyes, a little; because the joy on Steven’s face is…

It feels private; like something she’s not meant to see.

She goes to pour herself the coffee she’d largely forgotten, and, well.

She’s still going to talk to Richard about security, but maybe…

Maybe not just now.

permanent tag list (comment to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690

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lovely-vermin · 1 year

Text

Oh how I ADORE you

Summary:Howdy is such a great boyfriend!

Warnings?:Its just fluff! it’s sorta short!

Characters:Howdy pillar

Romantic or platonic?:Romantic!

-Howdy is always busy yet can make time for you because your his lover!

-Favoritism is real and your living proof because you sometimes get stuff for free but don’t abuse the power because it’ll be mean

-when he can actually spend time with you lots of hugs or cuddles and kisses because he wants to show you he loves you a LOT from the time he’s spent away from you

-Sometimes you’ll help him around the shop and you put everything in a way he likes and always does it. Makes him smile a lot because your helping him

-Did I mention that he gives a lot of hugs and kisses? He’ll tone it down if you wish but he just loves to be close to you as it calms him down

-He’s sorta clingy as he wants to make up the time he’s lost because of his busy schedule but he does make it up with the gifts he makes you or gives you!

(Sorry it was short! This is all I have but hope you all enjoyed the reading!)

#welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home arg x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #Howdy x you #Howdy x reader #romance fluff #romantic fluff #howdy pillar

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orqheuss · 11 months

Text

In any version of reality

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader FLUFF)

Reincarnation!Soulmate AU

Summary:

In the world of soulmates, ties told through memories of past lives and reincarnation, Ominis was sure that he had to be a very new soul. *** Ominis Gaunt was more sure than anything in his life that he did not have a soulmate. He had heard tales from others about their experiences, how lovely it was to finally find the one you had been searching for through any timeline, and he had resigned himself to the fact that his soul was too new to have a past life. But, after hearing you sing in the deserted music room sends him on a journey back in time, could he have truly found the person he had been longing for since before the dawn of creation?

Story is based off of "Epic iii" from the Hadestown 2017 Original Cast Recording.

Word Count: 4.7k

In the world of soulmates, ties told through memories of past lives and reincarnation, Ominis was sure that he had to be a very new soul. He had heard stories told through grapevines, whispers in the night of people finding their loves at a young age; how their timeless histories came flooding back to them like a torrential downpour of emotion they couldn’t identify until they tasted their loves name on their lips— heard their voice flitter through their ears like a soft ocean breeze for the first time. Some said it happened suddenly, as soon as they brushed against each other or looked into each other's eyes for the first time. Those people said it was like being struck by a falling star, burning to the touch and gloriously wonderful all at the same time. Some said it happened gradually, after years and years of knowing each other, only to be triggered by an oddly familiar moment in time or a feeling, like a song murmured from an ancient gramophone in the corner of a room they’d long forgotten about. Those people said it was warm, like a blanket you’d just cast a drying charm on— like they were coming home after a long trip and the hearth was already lit for their arrival. No matter how much he longed to tell stories like this himself, how much he yearned to find that grand, timeless love that he could only read about in books, the universe did not have a past life to spare him.

For a while he blamed his parents, like they were the ones that ripped him into the world before one of the many ghosts floating around in the stratosphere could latch onto him and call him theirs, but he knew that they had no control over ethereal beings like that. Then, he blamed his disability for his woebegone-ness. Every story he had ever heard told tales of looking into their soulmate's eyes and seeing the world as it was for the first time— could it be that because he could not see he would never know the feeling of holding someone's gaze and seeing yourself as you truly were the day your ageless soul was born into the world like a bursting supernova? Not knowing anyone else that suffered the same blindness as him, he didn’t have anything else to go off of. And so, that was the only answer his feebly human mind could give him— the only thing that actually made sense in his brain.

Being born without sight had never really bothered Ominis much until he got to Hogwarts. His childhood home was dreadfully quiet, and very few members of his family were home at a time, so he didn’t have any sounds invading his sensitive ears very often. All of that changed as soon as he crossed the threshold of the grandiloquent school. The tall ceilings echoed all voices like a cathedral tower echoed the hymns of a choir— he knew everyone's business better than his own, sometimes before his peers even learned of it themselves. With that came the knowledge of everyone's soulmate encounters, each story different from the last but just as magical each time. Down the castle stairs, tucked away in the corner near the one-eyed witch, Ominis heard Adelaide Oakes recount her story of brushing against a muggle boy in her village and seeing a post-colonial British soldier standing at her doorstep, stretches of farmland spanning farther than her eyes can see over his shoulder. In potions, he heard Garreth Weasley whisper to his cauldron partner about how he had known his soulmate for years, only realizing that they were meant to be after seeing them lounging on the shore of the pond behind his house— one moment they were strewn across the damp, summer-green grass, and the next they were curled around his past in a bed made of purple silk, the Paris skyline just beyond his reach through their bay windowed apartment. He could distinctly recall all of the details of Sebastian’s revelation, having heard how he saw himself galloping through a field of flowers with a lovely princesses arms wrapped around his waist, pressing her delicate fingerprints into his shiny chain-mail armor as they laughed into the sun many a time before drifting off into a dreamless sleep in their common room. Even Leander Prewett found his one true match, spinning the tale to anyone who would hear in their herbology class about how he was a British king once, married to a beautiful woman dressed in green with a matching choker necklace of pearls and emeralds— how the large “B” charm caught the light just right during their private garden strolls to make her blue eyes sparkle (Ominis also remembered the next day when he stumbled upon the frazzled Gryffindor in the library annex, filled with dread as he poured quite anxiously through the books and reading about that particular necklace, as well as the pretty neck that went along with it. Poor sod).

No, Ominis Gaunt had not found his soulmate yet, nor did he think he ever would, and he was perfectly fine with that, thank you very much.

At least, that’s what he told everyone when they asked.

What didn’t help his case, unfortunately, was that he was irrevocably and incandescently infatuated with the new fifth year. It had taken him some time to get used to their presence in his inner circle. All of his friends had a very distinct magical signature that he memorized after knowing them for some time— every magical being had one, really. Magic to Ominis felt like the fizz of cider against his skin, some slightly more carbonated than others and carrying a different taste in his mouth. Anne felt like the sparkling citrus water that the kitchens would bring out on particularly hot days before finals. Sebastian felt like the burn of firewhiskey on an autumn night, the bonfire in the center of the circle warming the tips of his nose and ears. Both were refreshing and lovely in their own right, but his newest friend was something he had never felt before. He was never able to feel someone else's soul under their skin and determine how old it was, but there was no way you were a young, or even new soul like he was. Even your magic felt old. Your signature was the most distinct one he had ever felt in his short life; it wasn’t a soft fizz like the others, or a pleasant warmth, it was a firework in his chest. You smelled like the smoke after a particularly rowdy Guy Fawkes Night and felt like tiny smoldering ashes falling against his skin, not too hot, but more of a pleasant kiss of heat. He got used to your voice quickly, no matter how your laugh made his knees want to buckle and cause his heart to race faster than a stampeding graphorn, but your magic took some time, even after he found out about your proclivity to ancient magic. There was something so distinctly familiar about it to him, like he had met you before coming to the castle. He didn’t recall ever doing so, but his family threw so many parties in his youth he wouldn’t really question it if he did. Once he started to get used to the feeling, maybe even crave it a little, he realized it was too late to stop the tumble his feelings were taking off your sweet, summer-side cliff.

Ominis knew that you hadn’t found your soulmate yet, but it was only a matter of time before your soft brushes and lingering stares disappeared into the air like everything else in his life. He was doomed to never have anyone by his side, but he knew deep in his heart that you were not destined for loneliness like he was. You were a flowering weeping willow at the edge of a monumental body of water, and he the lowly lake lapping at your petals as they fell, forever in the others orbit but never within arms reach.

That’s how Ominis found himself wandering that day, high up the many stairs of the magical castle and steadily walking towards the deserted music room, his favorite place as of late. Very few people knew where the room was, let alone that the school even had a music room to begin with. Here, he could wallow in his self pity with only the soft sound of his piano to keep him company. About a week ago a line of melody came to him in his dreams, soft and sweet but full of so much empty melancholy that he was on his feet at that very instant, quickly jotting down the notation on one of the many pieces of sheet music that he had lying around his desk. Ever since then, he had gone to the musical tower in the sky to sit by his lonesome and chart out chords like constellations. The song was ethereal to his ears, something that came from the universe itself as a gift that he was destined to write. Ominis was nearly done with it after hours of slaving over the parchment and quill, his fingertips surely staining the ivory keys of the baby grand piano to the point where the house elves despised his presence. He was like a man possessed whenever the melody came to mind, like something in the world was trying to tell him something very important but it couldn’t find the words to do so. The notes rose and fell like a bird flying south for the winter, wings stretched across the sky, swooping and diving only to rise again and kiss the sun. Some parts felt like a walk through a beautiful meadow, the sun on his shoulders and the wind blowing through his hair. Others were dark, like descending a staircase into the very center of the world with no light to guide you, just its ghostly melody to call you home. And some were both at the same time— a shady spot under a corkscrewed sycamore, tiny graves for the woodland creatures of the forest taken over by the wilds of nature, hidden off the beaten path in lamentable isolation. It told a story of everlasting, encompassing love that was ripped away too soon, found again after searching every possible and impossible place for their hand to hold, only to have to part ways once again until their effervescent hereafter. It reminded him of some of the muggle mythology he picked up last year for some light reading during one of his bouts of nightmares— how each tale began weaving together a love that would break the very fabric of the universe until it was taken from the pair by Fates' terrible string. The blond could tell that the song needed lyrics to be complete; Ominis was many things, but he was not a poet. So, much like his future to come, the song would forever remain unfinished. Even still, his forlorn melody kept him company, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Today was different; Ominis knew that as soon as he rounded the bend to the music room and felt a presence inside. The blond cursed to himself, resigned to find another corner of the castle to mope in his hopeless romanticism for the time being until the other person left. He turned on his heel and was about to leave when a sound stopped him in his tracks, his ears pricking up like a startled deer. From the crack in the door came a haunting voice, soothing through a melody that was vaguely familiar to the boy. He curiously took a few steps closer, pressing his ear to the tiny opening to hear better. The voice was one of the most beautiful things he had ever heard. Its tone was clear like the church bells outside his family home, soaring around the room up to the top of its spiraled ceilings and diving downwards towards the bordeaux patterned cherry floor. It caught the acoustics of the room like a wind chime in the beginnings of spring, and his entire body visibly softened at each lift and fall of its gentle ballad. Ominis listened intently to the lyrics as they made their way through his ears, swirling around his brain and kissing him just behind the eyes with winsome adoration.

Heavy and hard is the heart of the king King of iron, king of steel The heart of the king loves everything Like the hammer loves the nail.

The woman’s voice was like honey in his favorite tea, soothing and with just the right amount of sweetness. Her dulcet tones took Ominis into their arms and waltzed with his heartstrings like two ghosts lost to time. He couldn’t help but keep listening, diving deeper and deeper into her saccharine song.

But the heart of a man is a simple one Small and soft, flesh and blood And all that it loves is a woman A woman is all that it loves. And Hades is king of the scythe and the sword He covers the world in the color of rust He scrapes the sky and scars the earth And he comes down heavy and hard on us.

Hades. Something about the name shook the blond to his core, the word feeling strange at the tip of his tongue like a word he knew but couldn’t remember. Little flashes of light burst behind his closed eyes, bright but not painful, carrying the feeling of…grass under his feet? He wasn’t truly sure what he was feeling, but he knew it wasn’t the wooden floors of the hallway anymore. For a moment he could feel the luscious heat of the spring on his skin and hear the soft call of whippoorwills from the tree tops just beyond where he stood, even though it was a cold and stormy winter outside the stone fortress walls. He continued to listen to the song, careful to not let himself be known to the angel of music just out of his reach.

But even that hardest of hearts unhardened Suddenly, when he saw her there Persephone in her mother's garden Sun on her shoulders, wind in her hair.

Persephone. Why was that name familiar too? Why could he suddenly feel the phantom of long, thick hair stream through his fingers like a waterfall, the tresses gently caressing his skin in a way that he only dreamed of? Ominis flexed his fingers, swaying his hand in the air to feel around for a sudden body in front of him; he found nothing there except dust and stale air. The scent of wildflowers invaded his nose harshly, leaving him twitching and fighting off a very unbecoming sneeze until the strong scent pittered away to a delicate gale of sugared anemone and aster flower. The taste of nectar and pollen were heavy on his tongue. He listened closer, eager to hear and experience more. There must be a charm on their voice, the boy reasoned. That had to be the reason he was experiencing all of these things so suddenly.

The smell of the flowers she held in her hand And the pollen that fell from her fingertips And suddenly Hades was only a man With a taste of nectar upon his lips, singing: La la la la la la la…

It was like suddenly being dropped into the icy waters of the black lake. That melody, no wonder it was so familiar to him; it was the piece of music he had been working on nonstop for the past week! Just as the realization dawned on him, the magical aura of the person behind the door struck him harder than anything he had ever felt before— harder than when he had first felt it outside the Undercroft what felt like years ago.

It was you. You were the one singing.

You were the missing piece to his lonely symphony.

Seeing flashes of your past self did not feel like how Ominis originally thought. It wasn’t quick like a speeding bullet into the brain, or loud like a confringo smacking into the pillars of the Undercroft. The flashback started soft and hazy— his vision blackening around his normal shadows and all sense but sight returning first. First came his smell, his hearing, his touch, and his taste while he listened to your silvery cadence fade away into the heavens. All of the feelings that had come one at a time earlier suddenly slammed into him in an influx of sensations, shocking his system into a more startling consciousness than before. Lastly came his sight, coloring his once grey and silhouetted world with a plethora of hues that he had never heard of before. If the boy was being honest, in all the moments where he had imagined finding his soulmate, he hadn’t pictured anything at all. He had never known the gift of sight, so how could he truly prepare himself for what it meant to see? Was that what green was, in the grass below his shined oxfords? Was that blue, in the sky above that stretched on forever? Was that yellow, in the little bumblebee that buzzed around his head searching for a flower to land on? There was so much that he wanted to see, so much that he wanted to know now that he could. His subconscious reminded him that this was not the time for that though, when he spotted a figure bent at the waist in the garden just over the hill from him.

Ominis gulped against the knot forming in his throat, the lump pounding with the beat of his heart just under his ribs as he stepped out of the trees and into the clearing. He had never seen a creature as beautiful as you before; it was like everything in his life had led up to this very moment of meeting. Watching the way your hair glimmered under the summer sun like the jewels adorning his home as you tended your mothers garden, he was nothing more than a man in the presence of a nymph of the forest— something otherworldly, something too beautiful to touch. The sun danced across your skin like the finest silk, creating star-kissed freckles at the apex of your shoulders and down your toned arms, and oh, how could he do anything but remove his hat from his head and gaze at you with awed, enraptured revelry? The air around you smelled like his future— like pomegranates and the promise of forever. He felt in his very being that you were his one love, far before he truly understood the meaning of the word. The emotion could not be named with words, only the feeling of coming home. All he knew is that he needed to know you more than he needed to breathe, more than he needed to eat and drink and sleep and live. Your souls sang in tandem with each other, calling your names into the void and waiting for the shout to come back to them— to sing with them forevermore. Ominis was useless under your charm, like a siren luring an unsuspecting but oh so willing sailor to his doom under the frothing sea waves. He had never spoken to you, but he knew in that moment he would happily die by your hand if you would just meet his gaze one time. He would build whole worlds for you if that was what you wished— tear down entire galaxies if it would make you smile his way.

All of his dreams came true seconds later when you stood from your hunched position, tossing your hair over your shoulder in the intricate braid you wore, each strand decorated with the honeysuckle that bloomed at your feet, before turning and staring at the man before you. You startled at first, unaware that you were being admired for so long by someone so breathtaking. The blond haired beauty under your maple tree was like winter incarnate. His hair was quiffed and slicked away from his face, allowing you to see his strong jaw and perfectly sculpted facial structure. Your eyes drank him in like a garden in a drought with his tasteful three-piece suit, black from the collar at his neck to the wing-tips of his shoes— an unusual color for somewhere so sunny. He was as pale as fresh fallen snow with tiny moles breaking up the color— birdseed trapped in a thin layer of ice. He would be called monochrome if not for his eyes. They reminded you of the Grecian sea, those eyes. Like two pools of seafoam, or two small bouquets of baby's breath and cornflower. Your heart called to him like a lighthouse across a stormy ocean. Fate rarely ruled your life, you’d decided that from a young age after listening to the warnings of your mother, but if the Fates brought you him, you would listen to their words from now on. With one glance it felt like you had known him for years, and yet you didn’t even know his name. He was your past, your present, maybe even your future if you allowed it. He was not one of the flowers like you, more like one of the dead, but you’d happily plant your gardens in his domain. You’d plant flowers that thrived in the dark and the cold, flowers that only bloomed under moonlight, if it meant the universe would be kind enough to let you keep him.

It was you that spoke first, breaking the spellbound trance you both were in from the first moment of contact. “Hi…”

Your voice was like the sweetest music ever played— sweeter than those of the muses, those of the deific. They were nothing, for it was you who was truly divine. He was the moon, and how he longed to know the sun.

His voice was little more than a breath as he murmured in return, still caught up in the sheer transcendence of your beauty. “Hello…”

Your soft laugh shook him from his stupor, softening the frozen heart in his chest as you warmed him in both body and soul. He cleared his throat, shifting his feet for a moment before taking a bold but respectful step forwards, his hand reaching out for yours like a sunflower reaching towards the brightest star in the sky. Around you, the mockingbirds began to sing a tune for your love. You couldn’t help but think it was familiar, like something from a dream you’d had long ago. Their soft song echoed through the trees, each new whistle bringing a new melodious harmony.

La la la la la la la~

“My name is Hades,” he said, the softest smile you had ever seen turning the corners of his mouth.

You return his gaze shyly. There was a smear of dirt across your face, painted across the turn of your nose and the rosy apple of your right cheek like a thick splattering of freckles. The man thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.

“Persephone,” you whispered, smiling ruefully at the flustered pink that colored his face. “What took you so long?”

In a moment it was all over— Ominis’ world dyed grey once again and only the shadows of the things around him visible. Never had he mourned his sight before, but before he had not known the beauty of seeing the night sky in your eyes; he did not know the delightful turn of your lip when you grinned or the crinkle of your nose when you laughed. He knew now that you were not the thing that he could not have, you were the thing that the universe created just for him to hold. You and him were not just a weeping willow and a babbling brook; you were the water that breathed life into your roots and the tree that fed the fish under his waves. You were not simply the sun and the moon, passing constantly but never crossing paths for long; you were an eclipse, two celestial beings dancing together and showering the world with your lovely glow.

You both had done this dance before many a time— taken many a shape before. How could he have ever thought of you as anything other than his other half, his soulmate, his world? He revolved around you, and your benign gravity kept him steady.

That pull was why he had just enough courage to push open the door to the music room, stepping into the sunlit space and basking in the feeling of your seraph-like presence. Ominis knew exactly where you were when he spoke, his soul knowing the feeling of yours for longer than this earth had been breathing.

“Persephone.” It was a breath. A whisper. A prayer.

You looked at him like he hung the very stars you love so much in the sky. There was no one else in that moment, just the two of you and the soft echo of your past lingering in the lines of sheet music strewn across the piano bench.

“Hades,” you simpered, a smile glowing in your voice.

It was moments later that he was upon you, hugging you like your body needed to be a part of his, kissing you like you were the oxygen he needed to live. You met him with the same enthusiasm, finally whole after years of being apart. You pressed your face into his neck, soothing tiny kisses along any skin you can reach, stretching from his collarbones to the tip of his nose. He smiled down at you, his hands reaching up to cradle your face like he was holding starlight in his palms.

“I never thought I would find you again.”

You laugh, your own hands reaching up to cover his. His heart skips a beat when you nuzzle into his skin. “I knew we would find each other again, just as I knew the sun would rise again every morning.”

He was frowning now, a look that did not suit his face in the slightest. He couldn’t help but feel insecure after his years of festering in his terrible self worth. “But how?”

You flipped his world on its axis, removing his hands from your face and in turn placing your palms upon his, caressing your thumb along his jawbone. “Ominis, my darling Hades, did you think I ate those pomegranate seeds unwillingly? Did you think I did not wish to fall into your darkness with flowers in my hair?” You stood on your toes, bringing his face down further and raising yours to rest your temple against his. You found your happiness in his tiny smile. “My love, I chose you that day in the garden. I would find you in any lifetime, any version of reality that calls our name. I would never let you stay too far from me, that I promise to the gods themselves.”

He sealed your words with a kiss, accepting and agreeing with your terms proudly and eagerly. Never would you ever separate again.

And so there you stayed that day, curled in the far corner of the music room with your soft, no longer so lonely melody singing from the baby grand piano. You took turns feeding each other grapes from the vine, laughing like you were the world's sunlight and lounging under the tresses of your own created sky. Behind that, now closed, door was the real world, a terrible thing that brought torment and woe to even the happiest of souls, but in that little space at the top of the tower, you had found your own personal cosmos.

The king of the dead had finally found his queen of the flowers once again.

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #soulmate au #harry potter soulmate au #reincarnation au #fluff #romantic fluff #hades and persephone #hades #persephone #greeky mythology #masterlist

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hairmetal666 · 10 months

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EDIT: ao3 should be back so you can read this now 😭😭

Robin rips the cream-colored polo out of Steve's hands. "Hey!" his surprise makes him shriek.

"Absolutely not." She jams the hanger back on the rack. "We're in a boutique in Paris. You are not buying a polo shirt here."

Steve pouts. "But it's my size."

"No. I'm putting my foot down." She stomps to get her point across. "C'mon, they have sunglasses in the back."

He leaves the shirt behind, allowing Robin to lead him towards the table of over-sized, dark-framed sunglasses.

She gets lost in trying them on, vamping in the little mirror, leaving him to card through a rack of silk scarves, until a case of vintage wrist watches by the register catches his eyes. He studies the them—Omega, Rolex, Cartier, Patek Philippe—bands of finely tooled leather and steel, inlaid with gold, silver, diamonds; things Steve could never afford for himself in a million years.

He's so lost in contemplating the fine jewelry and the state of his life, everything that will change once he gets home, that it takes him a second to register the increasing noise coming from outside. At first, it's excited voices exclaiming in rapid French, but it quickly becomes near-hysterical screaming.

Steve’s first impulse is to locate the danger, block Robin from whatever might be coming. Before he can move, though, the most beautiful man on the planet skids through the door, long, dark curls flowing behind him like they’re caught in their own breeze.

"Kiss me," the man says. His voice is deep and breathy, and he has the biggest, brownest eyes Steve has ever seen. He loses himself in them—they’re so dark he can see his reflection in their depths—and it takes too long for the words to register.

"What?" Steve mumbles.

This gorgeous guy—long limbed and slender, a cropped cut-off t-shirt showing acres of pale skin punctuated by dark swirls of tattoos—can’t have actually asked to kiss him. This is a lust-based hallucination, it has to be, because this guy has a belly-button ring and wears pants so tight they have to be cutting off his circulation.

"Kiss me. Please?" the man asks again. The shouting from outside is louder now, people are crying, and Steve is sure that, this time, there's a definite note of desperation to his words.

This is a dream, for sure. There’s no way this breathtaking man is actually asking Steve for a kiss. Even so, Steve hears himself agreeing in a voice that doesn't sound anything like his own. The guy—the impossible, beautiful guy—smiles all gentle and soft, cupping the back of Steve's head in his large hand.

He's kissed a lot of people in his life. Like a lot. But nothing like this, not ever. Their mouths slot together, and he's expecting it to be chaste, and it is, but. Something electrical fizzes in his blood, goes straight to his brain, because his mouth is pressing harder and the man moans, grips Steve closer, pulls him until they crash against a clothes rack.

It's wanting and hot, but their tongues barley brush together before the embrace is broken. Steve wants; it infuses his blood stream, becomes a delicious ache in his lower abdomen.

"Thanks, sweetheart," the man whispers, pupils blown and eyes glassy. He brushes his thumb along Steve's cheek, then spins on his heel, disappearing out the door.

Steve can’t move, doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe, mouth still hanging open in bemused shock. What the fuck.

"STEVE," Robin screams.

He jumps, the noise stark in the quiet store and the now ringing silence outside, whatever commotion from earlier gone as though it had never been.

"Robin, what?" He snaps.

"Do you know who that was??"

His face flames crimson. "Uh. Just some guy?"

"Steeeve, dingus, you're hopeless."

"Who was it, then?"

"Oh, only Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson, Billboard number one for sixteen weeks? First album sold out at stores around the world? Didn't you wonder what all that screaming was about?"

"Oh my god,” Steve says. Hand going up to touch his kiss reddened lips. “Oh my god."

Read the rest on ao3!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #fluff #romantic fluff #one night stand #light angst #happy ending #ao3 link #ao3 fic #Robin Buckley #chrissy cunningham #first kiss #getting together #falling in love

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pekejscatbed · 2 months

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Lazy Day | Slade Wilson x gn! Reader

DAD BOD SLADE SUPREMACY HE IS A DILF HE IS DADDY SO WHERE THE FUCK IS HIS TUMMY GIVE MY FAVORITE OLD MAN THE BIG ASS STOMACH HE DESERVES YOU COWARDS- *cough cough* sorry guys, idk where that came from :/

info/warnings: gender neutral reader, soft Slade, cuddles, reminiscing, domestic fluff, weight gain, Slade has a dad bod and you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands

batman masterlist

———

You lay in bed together, Slade sitting up against the pillows in a pair of black boxer briefs and nothing else, and you partially on top of him, face buried in his naked stomach as he gently runs his fingers through your hair.

Slade has gained weight since the two of you met, with you cooking for him on his days away from the mercenary life and keeping him well fed. His stomach is bigger now after the couple of years you've been together, now rounder than when the two of you went on your first date and hanging down over his hip line. He's still strong, muscles still as big as they were years ago- bigger, even- but now they're covered in layers of fat that you absolutely adore; you love the weight he's gained, love the way his arms are now squishy when you hold onto him in public, love watching the small jiggle to his thighs when he walks around the house in nothing but his boxers, love burying your face into his growing tummy on lazy days like today, like you are now.

"Hm?" You tilt your head up as you exit your mind, thoughts dissipating as you look up at Slade in question.

"Asked what you're thinking about, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he repeats himself, looking down at you and smiling when your eyes meet his one green eye.

You smile back, humming softly. "You."

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wangxianficrecs · 2 months

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Retracing my steps (I found you) by Asphodel_Meadow

Retracing my steps (I found you)

by Asphodel_Meadow

T, 4k, Wangxian

Part of Exploring Tropes: Time Travel

Summary: When Wei Wuxian activates the travel array, he doesn’t expect to be sent back in time, and certainly not to the lectures in Cloud Recesses. Kay's comments: Just a good old time travel story where everything goes well! Really loved this combination of people who travelled back in time and loved how Wei Wuxian was instantly not ready to take anyone's shit anymore and instead went to live his best life. Good for him! Good for all of them! Featuring a nice flavour of Sect Leader Wen Qing. Excerpt: “Wei Ying, you stayed.” “Of course. How could I leave?” Wei Wuxian replies without missing a beat. “After all, Lan-er-gonzi hasn’t shared a meal with me.” It’s surprising how easily he falls into his usual teasing. “I have.” Wei Wuxian laughs. “I would remember if that was the case.” “Right.” Lan Wangji tone is oddly dejected. As if he were expecting another reaction. Lan Wangji doesn’t wait for a reply and starts to walk away. Could it be . . . ? There’s only one way to confirm it. Wei Wuxian needs to act before Lan Wangji leaves. “Wait.” The command makes Lan Wangji turn around. Wei Wuxian looks directly at him and hesitantly asks. “Hanguang-jun?” Lan Wangji's eyes widen slightly, then he inclines his head. “Mn.”

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, no bloodbath of nightless city, time travel, time travel fix-it, cloud recesses study arc, everybody lives, fluff, romantic fluff, jiang family dynamics, no sunshot campaign, sect leader wen qing, fluff and humor

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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yjhzies · 19 days

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“Straight out of dreams.” — Choi Seungcheol

#ver. – joshua

Genre: fluffy fluff ^^, romantic Warning: a very big simp bf and too much fluff Pairings: seungcheol x gn!reader Word count: 0.3k

[💿] : I wanna be yours by Arctic Monkeys

★ note · I have NO idea what to feel about this. I just wrote down whatever came in my mind and hoped for the best 🙊

Seungcheol swears, you have the ability to hypnotize him. He would come home after a long tour wanting nothing more than to throw himself into your arms and be loved by you forever.

Not that he is obsessed. Okay, I take that back. Maybe he is a little (positively) obsessed with you.

He adores having you close to him, ready to give him lots of kisses. He just knows that you hold a special kind of power over him. Or maybe it's his love for you that has gotten the best of him, and he has no regrets.

He becomes so engrossed in adoring your voice, appearance, and everything else that he does not even realize you have just given a full explanation of a movie while he is been staring at you the entire time. What in God's name will happen to him if you ever leave him? But as you well know, you never will.

His members tease him, calling him a simp for you. He jokingly defends himself, but deep down, he really does not disagree. He really is down bad for you.

He wonders how anyone can be so so perfect. You are exactly the person he has always desired. To be by his side, to kiss and comfort him, to be someone he can rant to, and to spend the rest of his life with.

Being in your arms melts him. There is nothing more soothing than feeling the warmth of your loved one's embrace around you.

His only desire in life is to hold you and never let go. Even if it means giving his all, he wants to protect you from harm.

Every time Seungcheol looks at you, he knows that he is falling deeper and deeper every day. But does he wish to stop? Absolutely not.

To him, you seem unreal. It's quite literally, he can't help it. It really feels as if you walked straight out of his dreams.

#seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #oneshot #established relationship #romantic fluff #svt fluff #fluff #scoups fluff #scoups #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol

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sigyns-drafts · 3 months

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waaa Hades,Buddha, Loki and Poseidon x gn!reader (seperate) who is tired and fell asleep during a meeting and it turned into a cuddle session after they got out of the meeting room.....😭

(I'm sorry I can't be more specific anymore I just want fluff of them :') , also sorry if your request is closed :') but I'm dying for them istg , If you don't write for this many characters you can exclude them! I don't mind! Or even ignore the request, just please stay hydrated and I hope you have a good day <3 )

A/N: Of course anon, I totally get you for wanting more content on your favourite characters, literally the same here!

Apologies it took forever and to everyone requesting! I've been very sick and things kept piling up, but I'm slowly making a return. <3

You described everything I needed to know just right, so please don't be sorry for anything! Thank you for being so caring, I apologise it took me forever. Don't forget to stay hydrated too~♡

Slumber in the Divine Boardroom 💤

➩ You and your divine boyfriend are attending an important meeting, but for whatever reason you find yourself very tired and eventually doze off.

Your boyfriend noticed and what does he do about this? Once everyone is gone turn this into a cuddle session between the two of you of course~

➩ Reader type: Gn!Reader x Hades, Buddha, Loki, Poseidon

⚠: Wholesome fluff, Romantic fluff, a lot of cuddling and nuzzling, teasing and flirting

Hades:

In the dimly lit meeting room located in the underworldly realm of Helheim.

Hades found himself presiding over yet another gathering together with other formidable figures.

Y/n, his partner who was only there for moral support like usual, could care less about what they spoke about when the weight of exhaustion and struggle to stay awake hit them like a heavy brick.

Living with Hades and being his lover, while luxurious, was still a burden to handle at times.

Especially when the god was met with so many constant schedules and tasks he would have to attend and keep up with.

Much to y/n's dismay, who not only wanted to be there for Hades using their own spare time to follow him around.

They also wanted to spend time with their beloved king alone, which was a rare occurrence.

As the talk of afterlife's affairs droned on for hours and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the cavernous walls, y/n's sleep deprived state only worsend over time.

Hades, who continued his stern discourse in front of his important guests, took notice in y/n's eyes, closing involuntarily, just across from where he stood.

He almost felt guilty to have dragged y/n out here when they could have stayed at home resting. But y/n was always so persistent!

The gentle hum of conversation became a distant murmur as y/n drifted into a peaceful slumber, head resting on the cold, obsidian table.

Eventually the meeting concluded, and the attendees filed out without questioning why Hades's love was asleep, leaving them alone to have their moment of peace.

Uncharacteristically, a softer expression crossed the lord of the underworld's face as he observed Y/n's serene repose. Hades was pondering if he should wake y/n up but.. Something held him back.

He gently strokes his hand through y/n's hair, taking it behind their ear before whispering in a low and soft tone to himself, but targeted towards his partner.

"My precious, already sound asleep when you could have just told me you wanted to stay home today~"

Deciding to not wake up Y/n, Hades carefully summoned a cloak and draped it over them both, creating a makeshift cocoon of warmth to carry his love.

The chilly ambiance of Helheim transformed into a surprisingly cosy haven sometimes, especially when you'd be all cuddled up.

Hades, normally not the type to do these things, now revealed a gentler side.

While adjusting Y/n's position to ensure their comfort, the man picks them up with his strong arms. Making sure y/n's head rests nicely and steady on his wide and surprisingly warm shoulder.

The god allowed himself a rare vulnerability, watching over Y/n with a small grin and a protective gaze.

As the flickering torches cast dancing shadows, the silence enveloped the room, broken only by the tapping of the man's shoes against the stone flooring.

Hades decided the next best thing to do was to bring y/n back to their chambers and perhaps, even he could take a small rest there to enjoy their solitude a bit more.

Hades gently placed y/n onto their queen sized bed, careful not to disturb their peaceful slumber. Settling beside y/n, he couldn't resist the allure of their presence.

The shadows seemed to soften as he pulled them into a warm embrace, wrapping his arms around their sleeping lover and relishing in the moment.

Time passed in the quietude, and as sleep began to claim the god of the dead, y/n stirred. A soft blush tinted their cheeks as they realised the situation.

Nestled in the arms of Hades sent a warm shiver down their spine.

Y/n, not wanting to disturb Hades, who had succumbed to hypnos himself, gently moved closer. A gentle murmur escaped their lips, a tender reminder of the impending responsibilities that awaited the lord of the Underworld.

With a soft touch, they roused Hades, their fingers tracing over the god's sharp features.

"Hades," y/n whispered, their voice a delicate melody in the quiet chamber.

"We had another meeting to attend after the first. It's time to wake up darling.."

Hades, stirred from his slumber, opened his eyes to meet the gaze of y/n.

The vulnerability in that moment was showing itself still, and a rare smile graced the god's lips.

The weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifted as he thought to himself how lucky he was to wake up to y/n everyday.

As Hades and y/n shared a lingering gaze, the gravity of their roles in the Underworld momentarily forgotten, Hades pulled y/n close to press his face against y/n's neck and nuzzle them.

Y/n blushes even more at this and chuckles while combining through the Gods white locks of hair.

"Oh hades~ you really can be a softie huh?"

With a soft nod, Hades agreed and acknowledged the reminder of his duties, yet he couldn't help but savour the warmth of his partner.

"I'm only soft for you.. But only you y/n~"

Buddha:

Buddha, who found himself hesitant to attend another divine meeting between the leader gods of their respective pantheons, to discuss important matters regarding humanity, didn't want to go alone.

So when struck with such a dilemma what does he do? Well he would bring a companion, and decided to bring none other than his most beloved Y/n!

As they entered the grand hall of the gods, Y/n felt a mix of awe, nervousness and exhaustion.

After all, they both had travelled far from their home! Also not to mention the fact y/n had been pulled into this extraordinary gathering a little out of nowhere.

But upon such an offer from their man, how could they possibly refuse such a thing?

They barely got to travel as much as they would have liked.

As the meeting unfolded with gods discussing the fate of humanity. Y/n found themselves rather comfortably seated next to Buddha.

However, soon struggled to stay awake, succumbing to the weariness of the divine environment.

While the discussions continued, Y/n drifted into a gentle slumber, head resting on Buddha's shoulder.

After the gods concluded their deliberations and departed, Buddha, noticing Y/n's fatigue, chuckled softly to himself.

He decided to play a light-hearted prank to wake them up. In his hand, he conjured a piece of his favourite chocolate snack, gently placing it near Y/n's nose.

To his surprise, the sweet aroma stirred Y/n, who slowly opened their eyes.

"Huh, Buddha, what's that delicious smell..?"

Y/n, initially confused, was met with Buddha's playful smile.

The two shared a moment of laughter, breaking the serious atmosphere that lingered after the gods' departure.

Buddha, aware of Y/n's love for snacks, much like his own, decided to extend the lightheartedness of their cute moment further.

"You know, since everyone is gone, we could go find a cosy spot to ourselves and enjoy some more treats~"

Y/n's lit up and they nodded excitedly at Buddha's suggestion! This had been so worth travelling for.

"Oh yes please! I'd love to explore a little around here and then continue resting somewhere very nice."

While they wandered away from the divine hall, Buddha made sure to show y/n around and explore with them!

While they did they found a serene garden hidden within the world of gods, much to y/n and Buddha's enjoyment for their plan.

Sitting down under a giant tree, Buddha and Y/n cuddled closely to each other.

"Oh this is simply divine Buddha, thank you so much for taking me with you~!"

Buddha leaned against the tree while feeding himself and y/n, his partner resting against his chest enjoying the moment and snacks they were fed.

"Me too sweetie, I knew you were the right one to bring with me."

Buddha grins happily, looking down at y/n, his eyes shining with love for them. He leans down and teasingly kisses their cheek.

"Even though you feel asleep during the meeting, which is my thing!"

The couple burst out laughing at Buddha's joking comment, it was true!

Y/n blushes slightly, they couldn't help but smile widely at Buddha's words.

He would usually take the chance to nap during such meetings if it wasn't to his interest.

With the rustling of leaves, Buddha and Y/n savoured the snacks, bonding over their shared love for their special delights.

The garden became a space where they could find peace all to themselves.

Loki:

In the grand halls of Asgard, the gods gathered for a crucial meeting.

Loki, mischievous as ever, had brought y/n along with him.

He claimed he couldn't leave y/n alone at home, but his true intention was to find amusement in y/n's company during the important discussions.

As the meeting unfolded, the weight of the gods' discussions combined with y/n's exhaustion from the day took its toll.

Y/n found it hard to keep their eyes open, succumbing to the lull of drowsiness.

Unbeknownst to them, Loki couldn't resist the opportunity to toy with y/n while maintaining his composure.

Loki leaned in, whispering in y/n's ear, "Sweet y/n, the godly matters bore you to sleep, I see~"

Y/n mumbled a half-conscious response, "No no! Just... tired."

Loki grinned, plotting mischief as the gods continued their discourse.

However, his plans were thwarted when y/n's eyelids drooped further, and they drifted into a peaceful slumber.

When the meeting concluded, and as the gods departed, Loki turned his attention back to y/n.

He marvelled at the serene expression on their peaceful face, finding unexpected adoration replacing his mischievous intentions.

With a gentle touch, he attempted to wake their lover up, calling their name softly or shaking them gently.

But no response or reaction came!

Growing impatient yet oddly fond, Loki decided to resort to a different tactic.

His fingers danced along y/n's sides, tickling them with ease.

In an instant, y/n jolted awake, eyes wide open in surprise.

"Loki! What in helheim are you doing?!" Y/n exclaimed, totally flushed and caught off guard.

He chuckled, pulling y/n close to himself.

"I couldn't resist, my dear. You looked so peaceful, but my attempts at a normal awakening failed."

Rolling their eyes, y/n sighed to themselves.

"You could've just shaken me gently."

"I tried! Either way this way is much more entertaining hehe~"

Loki teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he nuzzled himself against y/n's neck.

Despite y/n's initial annoyance, a smile crept onto their face.

The tension dissipated as Loki wrapped his arms around them even tighter than before, his soft kisses tickling y/n's neck.

The god of mischief had traded his tricks for a tender moment, and as you cuddled together in the room, leaving only the intimacy of the two of you.

Poseidon:

Poseidon and Y/n found themselves in a grand hall, attending a crucial meeting among the sea gods.

As discussions flowed, Y/n, overwhelmed by the divine chatter, struggled to keep their eyes open.

Poseidon noticed and chuckled under his breath, finding it entertaining. Though you could barely tell that he was excited, from his serious and unchanging face.

Poseidon leans close to y/n and starts whispering, almost mockingly.

"Someone's having a bit of trouble staying awake, aren't they?"

Y/n, in a half-dreamy state, mumbled a half-hearted response, "No! Just a little bored from... godly matters."

As the meeting concluded and the other ocean gods dispersed, leaving Poseidon and Y/n alone in the now empty hall.

Y/n, succumbing to exhaustion, had dozed off in their seat. Poseidon, finding the situation amusing, decided to take advantage of the moment.

The god finally lets his cold stone of a face change and smirks.

"Well, well, my dear Y/n, it seems the weight of divine matters was a bit too much for you."

Y/n, still half-asleep, groggily responded, "I'm awake, I'm awake... I just closed my eyes for a moment!"

Poseidon raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his ocean blue eyes.

"A moment? It felt like an eternity. You missed quite an enlightening discussion on ocean currents.."

Y/n, now fully aware of their surroundings, blushed and tried to defend themselves.

"I'm sorry, Poseidon. It's not that I wasn't interested. I just... the ambiance was so soothing."

Poseidon grinned, his godly aura radiating strongly.

"Soothing, you say? Well, maybe you just need a less comfortable place to discuss matters then."

"What? No! Please Poseidon, I truly love the beauty of your halls and wouldn't want to change it for the world."

"Not even to make yourself.. Even more comfortable?"

Y/n blinks, now feeling very confused with the mixed signals they were getting.

"Pardon me love..?"

With a snap of his fingers, the grand hall transformed into a cosy space filled with pillows and soft blankets. Y/n looked around, bewildered.

"What is the meaning of this, are you not going to lecture me?"

"I thought for a change I could be more easy on you, after all you are my lover. Now, let's catch up on the discussion, shall we?"

As they settled into the comfortable space, Poseidon pulled Y/n into a playful embrace.

The serious tone of the meeting and his was replaced by laughter and gentle teasing. Something Y/n definitely had to get used to!

"But seriously darling. Clearly, the weight of godly responsibilities is too much for you to bear."

Y/n rolled their eyes, there he went again insisting.

"Oh, please. You're one to talk, Lord of the Sea. Your ocean currents lecture nearly put me to sleep."

Poseidon chuckled, his selden heard laughter echoing through the transformed hall.

The god, known for his seriousness, was now wrapped in the warmth of his love's presence, turning an important meeting into an unexpected cuddle session.

But of course, still making sure y/n caught up on what they had missed.

And so, surrounded by the divine comfort of their impromptu sanctuary, Poseidon continued to playfully lecture Y/n.

Both revel in the joy of each other's company amidst their responsibilities.

#reader x character #reader x canon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok #romantic #romantic fluff #fluff #writing #ror hades #ror buddha #ror loki #ror poseidon #ror x reader #ror x you

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idontknowreallywhy · 23 days

Text

A little more Birthday fluff for the flyboy.

A glimpse into the future because I’m adamant he must have a happy one. I didn’t actually get time today to write the main part I intended but I shall post now in case I never manage to get there!

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Objectively, Eleven was clearly the best ‘bird.

She was 6-mach faster than One, more manoeuvrable than Shadow and could carry more than her fair share of weight, even if it wasn’t as much as third-generation-turtle Twelve could.

And Scott had flown her like a second skin… he’d been far more involved in Eleven’s design than he had of IR’s original fast response craft. And of course he’d been the primary test pilot, putting more than a few grey hairs on Brains’ and Virgil’s heads in the process. Not to mention his wife’s. He smiled wryly to himself at the memory of the incredibly loud dressing down he’d received post a certain test flight… which had been closely monitored from the island right up until he’d tried out the high speed air to water transition Brains hadn’t fully stress-tested yet and the comms had gone offline for a few minutes. Or ten.

Half an hour at most.

The smile broadened to a grin as he recalled the aftermath of that particular argument… and, Well. Even if six children hadn’t quite been the plan, Scott had really needed to objectively exceed his father’s record at *something*… so… all’s well that ended well.

But Eleven had always been his eldest daughter’s bird.

And the extra machs were irrelevant now. Ever since the the appointment shortly after his 70th birthday when the doctor had forbidden him from exceeding Mach Five. Slower than Two for goodness sakes. His immediate objections had been silenced by a very clear indication that the doctor’s baseline opinion was that it wasn’t wise for a septuagenerian to exceed the speed of sound at all.

Lest he make any fuss that might get back to Virgil… or god forbid IR’s current commander in chief, whose precise combination of his wife’s and his own genes mildly terrified him even now… he nodded meekly. He’d only bent the rules a couple of times in the 5 years since. Maybe three…

Or four.

Eight at most.

Anyway, he’d always maintain One was best: she’d always have an important place in his heart - his first great love.

Which is why, at the newly attained age of 75, as he stood staring moodily out of the lounge window awaiting Eleven’s return to the hangar beneath the pool, his second slipped her hand into his and quietly towed him towards the transport tunnels over to Mateo. The cavern which used to house the old back-up generator, redundant since the island had made the switch to fully renewable energy sources, had been expanded to create a new hangar. It was here the older ‘birds nested quietly, awaiting their occasional moment in the sun as back up to the younger generation.

Nothing was said on the journey, she just squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back. Scott helped her out of the little pod, and he led the way this time to where his pride and joy towered over them, gleaming silver and blue as she ever had. Scott paced an inspection circuit around the base, pausing to buff a smudge from one of the stabilisers with a shirt sleeve. His wife followed, gripping his hand ever so tightly and, he suspected, appraising him as minutely as he was assessing the ship.

Satisfied with what he saw, Scott stood back and smiled up at One, rather fancying she was smiling back down at him. The hand suddenly slipped out of his and he frowned, missing its warmth immediately but his concern was assuaged when both arms wrapped around him from behind and she propped her chin up on his shoulder to whisper in his ear:

“So, Flyboy, are you going to take me for a ride today?”

TBC?

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #romantic fluff #whether the primary romance is with One is up for debate tho #happy birthday Scott #future thunderbirds #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

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dragonrider9905 · 1 year

Text

For the Dancing and the Dreaming

@photogirl894 Morgan, this is for you!!!! ❤️ I really hope you like it!!!!

Summery: Being a Jedi in the rise of the Empire is difficult. First because an old friend has become an enemy and second, you are in love with the Sergeant of Clone Force 99,.

But perhaps where you lack words, a song can change everything and say what is in your heart?

Warnings: Talk of blood; arguments; each thinks the other is dead but they're not.

Notes: I wish I wrote the reprisal to Dancing and the Dreaming but I did not; I attached the YouTube link to the song. The artist is amazing 😭 please check it out!!!!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46476934

Just start the story, right? Here you go XD

“What on earth are you thinking?”

You never argued with Hunter in all the time you’d served as the Batch’s general nor while on the run with them. You’d had disagreements but never arguments, so this sudden outburst caught you off guard. You stood up taller and straighter to exude an air of confidence, lifting your chin and setting your jaw. Your hand immediately went to the hilt of your saber, feeling the gold trimmings and etchings for comfort. Your blade was unique…yellow in color and you wanted the hilt to display that, even if it did call attention to itself. It was black but traced with gold designs of your choice …ironically, this was your only tell of uncomfort. He often picked up on it, but you noticed he didn’t now. He was too busy reprimanding you.

You sighed. “Hunter…”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t talk, or don’t go through with it.”

“Both!”

You scowled and crossed your arms over your chest.

Hunter paced about like a wild animal being pinned down, a look of desperation in his eye you’ve never seen before.

“She’s coming for me, Hunter. I have to do this to protect you. To protect Omega!”

“She’ll kill you!”

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence in my skill.”

“This has nothing to do with your skill and you know it. It isn’t a matter of ‘can’. Would you be able to kill her?”

You opened and shut your mouth a few times, trying to formulate an answer. He didn’t know what you had planned (he’d die the moment you told him for sure, so you kept it to yourself. By the way he was acting though, you wondered if he’d read your mind. You hoped he hadn’t acquired that skill. You’d be screwed.)

You had to say something to placate Hunter, but you didn’t know what. Yelena, the Inquisitor who was after you, was a long time friend from the Temple. You couldn’t contradict the multiple late night conversations you had with Hunter, telling him about how close you were, and crying over the loss of her to the dark side. You even admitted once you wouldn’t be able to do it if you had to. You were stronger in saber skills but her connection to the Force was uncannily strong, and quite frankly, frightening.

“That is beside the point.”

“It is ENTIRELY the point!” He threw his hands up in the air and turned from you, grasping the back of the pilot's chair.

“Hunter…”

Your voice was soft but it faltered. You reached out but stopped, uncertainty taking over. You’d loved this man for some time, but you never had the courage to tell him. You’d faced battle droids, sith and death itself head on with a heart of steel, but saying those three words terrified you. You were sure he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t possibly. You wanted to believe that this outburst could have meant that he cared for you but it couldn’t. You didn’t know why exactly he was acting like this, but you knew it wasn’t that. You were his general, and only ever just his general. It was his job to look after you and old habits die hard.

His shoulder’s drooped.

“Ner ka’ra…”

Your head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised. You didn’t know that phrase. You never heard him say it before.

“I…we can’t lose you too. Please. Don’t.”

You blinked, and he was in front of you, towering over you, eyes boring into yours. His hands had come to be on your upper arms. His grip didn’t hurt, rather offered a sort of comfort and support. You could feel the vibration of every fiber of his being begging you to stay, an unspoken desperation.

You started to chew your lip and he remained silent, seeing he was getting through to you. You didn’t need to use the Force to know his breathing was heavy and uneven, or to feel the slight shake of his ever steady hand.

But what you did feel from him…anger, confusion, fear and something else? Something he was hiding…

You were going to step into his arms, to give him a reassuring hug when an image appeared before your eyes. You gasped and nearly fell to the floor.

In the mud of your mind, you thought you could hear Hunter calling your name. It echoed in the vast nothing that encompassed your head. Your legs started to give out and the grip on your arms started to dig. You realized you were falling.

You were heaving for breath.

Yelena was sending you a message: Come, or Hunter would pay the price.

Resolve set in, unlike before. Your spine straightened and you set your jaw, letting your eyes bore into his.

“No, Hunter. I’m leaving. I have to. Please…know it is for the best because…I care. Tell the others I said goodbye…and that I love you all, will you?”

And you were gone. Somehow you released yourself from his grip. Somehow you slipped away from him.

The feeling of you remained. A slight tingling causing his fingers to twitch. Hunter’s mind drifted to the first time…well, the only time he ever danced with you.

Notes came from the musicians' old instruments in the town square. A song long forgotten by many civilizations rang out and danced between the walls and the old cobblestone streets. Your heart nearly jumped in your throat from the giddy excitement. A buzz traveling from your brain to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“I can’t believe they know this song! They know it!”

You clamped your hands over your heart, shutting your eyes, swaying to the music and humming along the opening notes.

“It’s an old song from my home,” you smiled nostalgically, sighing into the land of memory.

The peace and happiness that settled over you was not lost on Hunter and he was glad Omega had requested the musicians to play it. He smiled, watching you, taking the picture of you in. It was some sort of holiday in town and everyone was in a giving mood. Wrecker was off somewhere eating food, Tech and Echo doing who knows what, while you, Hunter and Omega went exploring about town.

You had a wreath of flowers in your hair, little blue ones he thought you called “forget-me-nots.” They were your favorite, you’d told him that while gazing at the crown. The flower stall owner must have overheard you, because he gave them to you for free. Hunter was glad he did…you looked beautiful. The blues complimented the purple garments you wore. Ugh, he was staring and he had to stop! But it was keeping his mind off the fact he was trembling when he placed the crown on your head himself…

Omega heard you humming this tune one day and asked what it was called. “For the Dancing and the Dreaming.” you replied. “Someday, I’ll teach you the dance to the song. Right now, we gotta finish these repairs, ok kiddo? We can learn the words as we go, so long as Tech doesn’t mind the noise.”

Hunter hardly considered it noise. Your voice was one of the most lovely things he’d heard in a while *coughs, correction, ever*. Hearing you and Omega sing and laugh quickly became his favorite sound in all the galaxy. The harmonies you two created were…not as pleasant, at first. But the more the two of you sang and learned from each other, the better you got. They tried (and succeeded on a few occasions) to get Hunter to sing along with them. His deep baritone voice added something special to the music, or at least that is what you said, and he pretended like he believed you.

Apparently Omega hadn’t forgotten your promise to learn the dance.

Omega praddled up to your side, something curious in her eyes…Hunter had seen this kind of mischief before. What did Omega have up her sleeve?

She called out your name in a sing-song voice. “Won’t you pleeeease show us the dance! Please!”

You laughed, hardly needing the encouragement.

“Alright. But I’ll need a partner.”

You smiled sweetly at the girl, expecting her to volunteer. She put on a troubled face; Hunter knew her well enough to know it was staged. Though you knew her well, you didn’t have the talent of seeing through some of her acting yet.

“I…I think I should watch first. I’ve never danced before. Why don’t you dance with Hunter?!”

Ah, so that is what she was up to.

“Oh, ok.” You shifted a little uncomfortably. You coughed and cleared your throat, extending your hand to him with a tremor. “H-hunter, would you like to dance?”

What was he going to say? No?

“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, trying to play off the awkwardness. He cleared his own throat and took your hand, following you to the center of the town square (or circle, in this case). Omega giggled and followed close behind, keeping enough of a distance not to ‘ruin the magic’.

“It’s sort of a proposal song.” You coughed again. “It goes back and forth between the lovers…and so does the dance, here it goes like this.”

It would be a little difficult to start in the middle of the song but you thought you could make it work. You raised your hand, trying to explain the steps, getting Hunter to do the same. He placed his palm against yours. You took a deep breath in and your heart beat fast. You looked into his eyes and got lost. You froze, forgetting the steps you had just taught him. He was looking at you too, and you wondered what he was thinking.

The music jarred and stopped suddenly, waking you up from your daydream. You looked up, surprised at the musicians. The old man with the violin smiled knowingly at you and nodded, restarting the song.

Your voice rang out in a clear, perfect tone. Though you started to draw a crowd, it only felt like it was the two of you. Your vision tunneled on him, creating a cloud around everyone else.

There was nothing but the two of you. No sound other than the music and your breathing and heart beats. No sight except the one in front of you. No feeling beyond your partner.

You started to turn, and Hunter followed, anticipating your moves and catching your cues. You missed Omega’s satisfied, adoring eyes at how well her plan had worked.

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me

No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey

If you will promise me your heart

And love me for eternity”

Hunter made up his mind to follow you. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. There was no question.

He never thought about anything less.

— — —

The rocky, mountainous planet was kind of intimidating…you had to watch your step otherwise you could fall into a rocky canyon, a muddy ravine, or into deep, unending nothingness. The skies were gray like the world of rock around you, a storm threatening every minute. A rustling sound came from behind you. You spun around to find not your failed friend, now enemy but…

“Hunter, what are you doing here?”

“I’m not letting you face her alone.”

“She’s a master manipulator! Do you know what she’s capable of when she abuses the force! She could paralyze you or worse! She can instantly spot a weakness and know how to exploit it.”

“I can’t let her hurt you.”

“Hunter…”

“Ahhhh, look who finally decided to show up. I’ve been waiting for you.”

A voice you knew so well. Once full of sun and light now dark and foreboding. You knew it but didn’t recognize it.

“Yelena.”

“Took you long enough.” She crossed her arms, annoyed. “Surprised you brought the boyfriend considering my offer.”

“Boyfriend?” Hunter was taken aback. Yelena smirked at the new revelation.

“Yes. Don’t tell me she’s never told you how she feels about you. She had feelings for you during the Clone War…just imagine how it’s grown.”

You felt your face burn a deep red. You felt Hunter look at you more than you saw it. You pointedly ignored it.

“I won’t join you. I can’t join you.”

Yelena shrugged. “Hm, should we let the man have a say? After all, it seems you’ve been keeping things from him. Here’s the deal, good looking—“

You felt yourself die on the inside. Yelena swayed on her hip, she knew the effect she was having on you.

“I told Miss Perfect Jedi, here, she could either join me…or I’d rip her apart…” Yelena stepped forward; you extended your hand protectively in front of Hunter, moving to take the front. She still wasn’t looking at you though, she was addressing Hunter with a cruel gleam in her eye.

“Know how I’d do that?” Her smile was cold, and reveling in the ice. “By hurting you, precious.”

Hunter was stunned. From what he remembered of Yelena was…she never bluffed. She always threatened truths…which made her promises terrifying…if she was threatening this…that meant?

He was frozen in his spot. He should have heard the blade ignited. He should have seen the glow of promised blood. He should have moved. But he didn’t, until it was too late. He felt an invisible grip hold him, invading his mind.

He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move.

Nothing.

“Yelena stop! This isn’t you! You’re hurting, don’t let that destroy you!”

“You could have the same power. Join me!”

“Love will always be more powerful than hate. It takes more strength than to yield. Only the weak succumb.”

Anger crossed Yelena’s face…a boiling anger, and Hunter knew you’d crossed a line. She came forward, saber raised.

Hunter watched helpless as you placed yourself between Yelena and himself.

NO.

He watched as you embraced the red blade, saber going clean through you. The red blade entering and leaving your body.

Why would you do that for him?

Why?

His lungs refused to let in air. The tips of his fingers turned cold and his hands went numb. He knew he was clenching his fists but he couldn’t feel it.

He watched as you gasped, saw the single tear leave your eye, heard as an exhale of finality left your lungs as your body crumbled to the ground.

“My dear, that wasn’t very smart. Now you’re dying and he’s going to pay the price like I warned you he would.”

Yelena kicked you and Hunter saw your body slacken.

His muscles were tense and exhausted themselves from trying to move, trying to get to you. Anger flooded his veins like lava.

“Do you know why she always planned on taking the blade? You’re wondering why she didn’t just fight me off with her superior skills? Oh you didn’t know that; then let me tell you…Because she thought she could save me. Seems like she thought that would save you too. Looks like no one here is getting saved.” She grabbed the bandanna off his head. Letting it fall in place.

“Say goodbye, she’ll die before you reach the top…if you ever do. Personally, I’m rooting for your survival. Won’t that make the future interesting?”

With that, Yelena dropped him over the side of the cliff.

He free fell.

Down.

Crash.

All was black.

Last thing he remembered was seeing you laugh and how much he wanted to hear that again. All he wanted was to hold you. If he couldn’t in this life, maybe you could dance in his dream….or together again in the next.

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

To love and kiss, to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows and delights

I'll keep your laugh inside me

Startled, Hunter jolted awake. Pain flashed across his body but he wasn’t as hurt as he should’ve been. Looking around, he saw he broke through layers of rock and landed on a cushioned area.

Thank the Force.

His relief was short-lived however. How long had he been asleep? Were you still alive? How long did you have?

Would you be laying there pale and motionless, waiting expectedly for him to come to you though he never came? His stomach lurched. It was near sunset…you couldn’t have survived this long.

Hanging his head, the tracker felt lost for the first time.

— — —

You woke up alone.

Abandoned.

You were right. Yelena couldn’t kill you either. You knew she didn’t have it in her. Maybe your act did some good yet. If only Hunter…wait. Hunter! You felt the earth around you, trying to evoke the memory of what happened there from the dirt.

You wished you hadn’t. Wanting to scream, a sob came out instead. Tears blurred your vision but in the mixing of colors, and swirling surrounding…red caught your eye.

Dragging yourself over to the spot where Hunter’s bandanna lay abandoned on the ground, you reached out and gently picked it up, bringing it to your face. Tenderly, you ran your fingers along the emblem, feeling the familiar fabric. Bringing it to your lips briefly, a new resolve filled you. You had to get up. Find the body. Honor him one last time.

You gasped and dragged yourself up, hands pinned to the wounds at your side.

No.

He was gone.

The sobs came, and you didn’t hinder the tears as they fell shamelessly from your eyes down your cheeks. Your side burned as if the saber was still inside you, twisting itself in circles, but that was nothing compared to the heaviness you felt in your heart. Your grief was overwhelming and threatened to subject you…but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t want it. You’d live for him. It was your fault he was gone. You couldn’t give up when he sacrificed everything for you. An Inquisitor once boasted to you what hate could do for the will to live. Well, he had nothing on love.

The wound looked bad, but you bound it. You could beat this yet. You had to. You had to find Hunter, even if his spirit was one with the Force.

Unexpectedly, something pricked your brain…a happy memory turned bittersweet. A memory in the form of a song…you couldn’t sing that one now, but you could sing something in his honor.

Slowly the words came to you, and in as steady of a voice you could muster, you let the old melody carry the new words. Words you hoped conveyed to him what you felt.

Strain started to seep into the words and when you reached the apex of the song, all the sadness, anger, and bitterness was released in a word. You fell to your knees, and looked to the sky, letting the last note soar like you knew his spirit would.

More tears came but quietly, and a peace of resignation which somehow, somewhere, you knew was from him, settled in your heart.

— — —

My dearest one my darling dear

He knew that voice…. And that tune. It was yours. You were singing your song. He’d know it anywhere. How often had he gone over it in his head since the day you sang it?

Wait…

It was and it wasn’t. It sounded the same but the words were different…it felt different.

The tune seemed to surround him like a shroud. Grasping his heart. Squeezing it tight. Threatening to suffocate him where he laid.

It wasn’t fair…that you were killed. Your body lying motionless somewhere above him. He should be there crading you right now. Holding you. Reassuring you in your last breaths everything was going to be alright, only to see your eyebrow of disbelief and slight annoyance as you told him not to lie to you. He’d find some way to stop the blood; some way to keep you alive…or bring you back.

He should have told you long ago how he felt about you. About how you were his dream. His soulmate. The only dance he wanted to dance. He wanted to crown you again like he once did with the flowers you liked best (how appropriately named now!) And now it was too late.

Your voice seemed to echo what was in his heart. But there was something about it that was so strange. Perhaps It was because he never heard you more sorrowful or angry than he ever remembered.

It weighed on him; his heart threatening to break free from its cage with its violence. The heaviness that sunk in.

My mighty one has fallen

Images of Hunter laughing, smiling filled his mind. Unbidden, the flash of a vibroblade slashing countless enemies in smooth motions. The light of a yellow saber you loved that he used once when you both were pinned down and you tossed it to him in exchanges. The classic stance of a leader he always took, once on purpose, now out of habit.

The children weep for their protector

Flashes of the Batch flashed before his eyes. Omega inconsolable. Wrecker no better. The sorrow and rage he knew so well in Crosshair that he abated whenever he could. Tech mumbling, lost. Echo kneeling, shoulders dropped, hands gripping his head wondering what he could have done better.

The loved ones will be praying

He saw…you. For the first time ever with real grief and anger, yet something so soft he could have thought you loved him. You gripped at the wound in your side while your hand clutched at something else. He tried to focus on what he was seeing, zeroing in on your hand. You brought it up to your chest…gripping it like it was your lifeline, the only thing keeping you grounded to reality.

The unmistakable strip of red fabric, painted with a skull.

So we part again my love

He heard your real voice, strong and confident as ever, and realized it wasn’t in his head. Your voice rose above everything and rang out so clearly. He didn’t understand how it was possible but the realization hit Hunter that he was seeing your thoughts and hearing you as if you were one. Your voice was raw and agonized in pain as you called out. He resolved he’d get back to you at any cost.

My darling one

As he climbed, dancing figures floated in his vision, a ghost of beauty; the phantom feeling of your hand on his haunted his mind. An invisible hand guiding him to the top, telling you where to place his grip safely.

More memories came…strangely enough, strengthening him and not hindering.

Late nights on the Marauder…special innocent moments he dared not dwell upon as such, in case you didn’t feel for him the way he felt for you. Slight touches of hand, secret knowing looks, late night conversations.

And so the gods above will bless thee…

A vision of his family happy, all together once more, as they should be, but in a place he did not know, yet felt like home. Crosshair pretending to be annoyed with a laughing Wrecker—though the traces of a smile could be seen, Tech rambling off some facts with a smile, Echo crossing his arms and making a sassing remark, Omega playing with all the friends she’s ever made and a few he didn’t even know.

You and him.

Holding hands and beholding the family before them.

So the song ended…As the high notes lingered in the air, voice carried softly in the gentle breeze, Hunter almost reached the top.

The song stopped but the music echoed from stone to stone and brick to brick as the musicians let the tune linger a little longer, hearts not ready to completely give up the melody.

Your voice was gone. Your breath was gone, though you were driving it in heaves. Hunter was staring at you, and you at him. It was only the two of you. You, standing, blushing like a rose, questioning, uncertain. Him doing the same.

The chasm between you so far, yet only an arm’s reach away. Something so easily breached, yet near impossible to attain.

The final notes lingered, vibrato on the violin, a voice of the flute.

Hunter looked at you like he never did before, and your heart, for the first time began to hope, maybe, you could have a future. Perhaps he felt the same.

You had your eyes closed, trying to meditate. The air cooled and was a salve for your burning heart. It nipped at your nose and numbed your hands already, resting motionless on your thighs. You didn’t know how long you were kneeling there, still and silent, but your muscles felt stiff and unyielding. You knew you had to go, but you couldn’t. Not yet. You wanted to find him but something told you to stay a little longer yet. You didn’t know why, but you trusted anyway.

Somewhere, a bird started singing its farewell to the day. A lone call, begging it’s partner to assure it, it was still there and would return to it soon.

The single tune soon turned into a duet, and a smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help but feel everything would be ok.

The tune was beautiful, one you never heard before. You wondered if it was a mating song or perhaps these two in such perfect harmony knew each other so well they completed each other?

In the cacophony of notes, you heard your name.

Your eyes jolted open and you tripped over yourself.

The deep, husky voice couldn’t be real, could it? It was hard to tell because tears clouded your vision once more.

“Hunter? You’re alive! Hunter?!” You tried to get up, gasping at the pain you felt in your rush. Hunter was by your side in an instant. He fell to his knees, embracing you. All you could hear was your name repeated over and over with sobs in between loving gibberish coming from both of you.

In a moment of silence, Hunter brought his forehead to yours, a smile tugging at his lips. He chuckled airily, a tear falling from his eyes.

“I thought I lost you…but then, your song…it gave me the strength to climb and find you.”

“You heard it?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes were closed contently, just basking in the feeling of you being there. His hand cradled your face, thumb gracefully stroking your cheek. You brought your hand up to his, entwining his fingers with your own. Bringing your clasped hands down to your heart, you brought your other behind his neck.

Seeking silent permission, looking into his eyes, you saw all your love reflected back at you. His gray eyes started to match yours, melting to brown and glowing with the golden sun finally defeating the storm.

Hunter lowered his voice, lips next to your ear. It was nearly a whisper; his voice dry and wavering in the tumultuous emotion he was feeling. Yet despite that, it was the most beautiful you’d ever heard him sing.

No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey

If you will promise me your heart

And love. And love me for eternity”

He didn’t have a wreath of flowers, but he did the next best thing.

Untangling the cloth from your hands, he tied the red ribbon around your head, placing a gentle kiss on your crown.

It was your turn to huff. Your throat swollen with tears, yet your voice found a way.

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

Hunter smiled, then wrapped his arms around you. You laughed fully now and giggled when he lifted you.

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

You laid your head on his chest, all anxiety and pain replaced with peace and love..

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

He wasn’t going to let you have the last word.

I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!

If you…..would marry me.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RdtQqWHLWw song by Emma Amaya

#hunter x fem!reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter #the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #sw tbb #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #clone force 99 #reader insert #fluff and angst #angst and fluff #angst with a happy ending #romantic fluff #unrequited love #Not really unrequited love

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cease-your-release · 7 months

Text

"You Mean The World To Me." (SFW)

Following a hard day at work, you and Copia retreat to your shared bath to unwind. (Fluff, 5,581)

Content warning(s): It gets a little suggestive, maybe?

I’m fighting off what I think is a stomach bug, so my proofreading skills aren’t top notch at the moment… technically I did but how much good is that when your vision is blurred from a migraine?

Also on Ao3!

Smut version here

You stand in the en-suite bathroom that you share with your partner, Copia, leaning over the wall of the tub to continuously adjust the water that flows from the tap.

The both of you had, quite frankly, horrible times at work, at least in terms of the work itself. Copia, in his tasking role as Papa Emeritus, had been especially swamped with forms to fill out and meetings to attend, which meant he was either confined to his office in frustrated silence or rushing to where the next conference would be held. He had always made time to see you, or at least call if physical presence wasn’t an option, but today there was absolutely no way he could fit it in. That’s how you knew something was off, but it wasn’t as if you could dwell on it for too long, because you were trapped under your own workload. Yours were much more body-oriented, legs weary and sore from the way they carried your tense body up and down the halls while taking things (which, of course, were not as light as you would have liked) to be delivered to wherever the Heaven you were going. By the end, both of you wanted nothing more than to collapse into the arms of the other, but once you two saw the state of your counterpart, your caretaking instincts kicked in.

“You start the bath, tesoro. Make it as hot as you’d like for those aching bones, huh?” Copia had told you before taking to the sink to deal with his papal paint, which by that point had faded and smudged from the amount of times he had mindlessly rubbed it in his stress. You had spaced out somewhat, and therefore didn’t notice when he disappeared into the main room, but you also didn’t have the energy to worry about it. The curiosity was short lived, however, as he came back only a few minutes later with a pile of folded clothes- pajamas, you gathered- and an armful of scented candles.

You move to help him set everything down, despite his protests, and together you arrange it all accordingly. Before you know it, a handful of subtle relaxing scents fill the room, the dim, warm light from the dancing flames only enhancing the mood.

While you’re doing that, the tub fills, and then you can finally partake in the hot water.

Copia steps in first, then turns back and holds out his hand to you. “Shall I help you in, then?” He asks, and it’s clear he rushed ahead just to be able to do so.

Amusement washes over your expression, which he grins at, and you place your hand in his before joining him. You both sit down, settling with his back to the wall and you facing him, sitting over his lap. “Is the temperature alright? Not too hot?” You ask, running your hands over his shoulders. Even after all this time of sharing the bath, you still can’t help but worry about that aspect.

“It’s just right, amore.” He responds with a sigh at the faint massage. The warm water surrounds both of you, and he leans back against the wall of the tub with a relieved groan. “I can’t explain it to you, but this is what I want right now…” He raises his hand, bringing it to rest upon your cheek. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, tracing the shape. “This… this is good. Everything right now is just wonderful…”

Your lips part under the pressure, then lightly kiss the finger against them, which gets a somewhat flustered smile from him. “Mm… how does your stomach feel?” You slide your palms to his abdomen, which is completely submerged in the bath..

Heavy stress would often lead to a feeling of nausea for him, which the bath could sometimes help with. It definitely didn’t hurt that you were with him, either.

Copia’s eyes flutter, and his lips part for a few seconds before answering. “It’s… much better right now, actually.” He tilts his head, and reaches over to rub your thigh. “And how does my baby feel? Are your legs still tender?”

You can’t help but beam at the name, followed by a deep sigh at his touch. “A little, yes. But that’s to be expected after such events, right? I’m just thankful I can still walk, really.”

“Of course, you’ve done a lot. I can’t believe you’re still so willing to take care of me once it’s all over…” He leans over to place a kiss on your collarbone, sliding his hands to give your thighs a caress. “Sei incredibile..” He moves his lips to just over your throat, and you can feel his touch traveling over your legs. “Are you ready, tesoro?”

You nod slowly with a laugh, a slight tickle caused by his kisses, your arms rising to hold yourself up by the wall of the tub. “Mhm, if you aren’t too tired for it.” You respond, leaning back and lifting your hips so he can reach more of you. “Oh, your hands are lovely..” You’re trail off into a silent groan at his touch, finding the prolonged tension has resulted in a noticeable tightness of your muscles, which were being soothed by the water and his hands..

“Look at you, amore mio.” He hums, watching and feeling the way you move under his touch, pressing his hands into your thighs and kneading the flesh. “Your skin is so soft,” His lips brush against your neck, leaving behind a trail of kisses as they go down towards your shoulder.. “but you are so tense.”

A sigh escapes you at that- his massage and words. “Oh, you know how it is.” Soon enough, he gets to a particular problem area, which pulls a noise from you. “A-ah!”

Copia’s body jerks at the sound, and he gasps. “Amore, I don’t think you understand how much-” His concern is cut short when your hands return to his shoulders, fingers working his tightened muscles just as he is with yours. “Ancora, per favore..”

“F-fuck..” You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his touch, feeling your tension slowly melt away. You start kissing his neck like he did yours.

His eyes flicker with each kiss that lands on him, paired with subtle whines when your hands get to the especially tough spots. “Caro Satanas..” He holds you close for a few seconds, digits curling around and pushing into your calves, before relaxing slightly and leaning back against the wall. It almost feels like you’re one in the same- your bodies move in tandem, your hands relieving the other. “Don’t stop, baby, please.”

You grin against his skin, noticing the slump, and shake your head shortly. His breath hitches, lips forming a small ‘o’ shape while a shiver jumps through his spine.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” You reassure before moving to the other side of him, kissing there too. Copia’s fingers grip your legs, and his motions gradually increase in reaction to yours- they’re not fast, however. He’s so slow, so gentle with you, that you can tell he’s putting just as much effort into it as you are.

“You’re amazing at this, you know that? I- oh!” Your words are cut short with a groan, a result of him reaching another area of tightness.

After taking a moment to recover, you pull back and bring a hand up to his cheek, tilting his head to face you. You take in the sight of his love-drunk expression: dazed and half-lidded eyes that dart around your frame, lips parted under deep breath, and a lovely light flush that accents his sparsely freckled skin. “Pretty boy~” You coo, then press a tender kiss to his lips, one very calm and clement.

He looks at you for a few seconds and kisses you back, soft and slow, just like before. He eventually pulls away and meets your gaze. “You and I, tesoro, are amazing together. I’ve never felt so comfortable around anyone before, a-and- cazzo -We are like… one, but still our own persons…” He glances down at where his palms and fingers press into your flesh for a second before looking back up to you. “I need you..”

You smile at his profession and he pulls you chest-to-chest, groaning and sighing. “More of me? You can have as much as your heart desires, darling.” Comes from you in a whisper, a bit breathless. You lean in and allow your lips to trail his jaw, not quite reaching his neck. Then, you mumble something: “Meus es.”

The handful of Latin you picked up from mass sometimes pays off in some of these moments- it is called "romance language", after all.

“You called me yours…” He thinks. “I don’t want any more of you, caro, I want all of you.” He presses his lips to yours shortly, and smooths one hand over your skin, up towards your hip. “Questo è perfetto…”

“Mm, well, I’d say you have that already.” You respond before returning the kiss. You slip your hands underneath his arms and to his back, massaging what you can reach there. “My heart is so full of you, I can hardly call it my own.” You whisper into his ear.

Copia lets your words sink in, and he could swear he feels his own pulse beat to the pace you two move at. “I love you, dolce mio, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.”

“I know, sweet boy-” You start to say, but are interrupted once again. “Ah, Copia, right there..” You bury your face into the crook of his neck, somewhat panting while he works on your hips.

He gladly obliges, right up until you find his own sweet spot between his shoulder blades. “Oh, tesoro, I- cazzo!” He gets out in a groan.

After roughly another minute of that, you both slowly stop and your hands come to rest on the skin of the other. His hold on you loosens, and one reaches up to pull your face to his. Before you can process it, he presses mouth to yours in a tender kiss.

“I love you.” Is the silent message between you two, only broken by the sound of breathing and the soft smacks of your lips connecting.

You return the kiss with just as much gentleness, and curl your arms around his waist. “The water’s so hot that now we’re all sweaty… What do you think about a shower?” Then, you glance down at your bodies, the perspiration beading from them. “But we’ll have to drain this water first.”

Copia nods, eyes half closed. “Yeah, that’s a good idea…” There’s a hint of concern on his face when he looks at you, his voice matching. “Are your legs alright? I don’t want to push you to walk if you’re too sore.” He says, moving to lightly rub one of your thighs again.

You smile at his question, and lean in to press a couple of kisses to his cheeks. “It’s positively adorable how much you care for me, sweetheart.”

“Thank you for the compliment, dolce mio, but I’d be doing a horrible job if I didn’t care for you like that.” He replies, accented by slight giggles when your lips reach his skin.

“I should be alright to stand for a shower, at least. If nothing else, I may just have to lean on you when it comes time to get back to bed.” You explain, then turn around and start towards the other side of the tub.

He sighs at the loss of your warmth. “And I’ll be right there beside you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” A smile pulls at his lips after a second of thought. “It could be quite a nice moment, actually…”

You pull the plug from the drain, then stand with a grunt of effort, water falling and dripping from your figure. You shake some from your hair, though most of it may actually be sweat. “Oh, of course it would..” You remark with a grin. “My big strong man, hm?” You tease, helping him up to his feet as well.

“Oh, amore mio…” Copia watches you stand, eyes teeming with nothing short of admiration, and smiles at you as if you had used his favorite pet name. Once he’s up, he leans in for a faint hug, not seeming to mind the lack of clothing between you. You don’t either, since the temperature of your bodies is- quite literally -warmly welcomed after the chill of removing yourself from the water. “I will never let you fall…” He whispers into your ear.

You reciprocate the embrace, closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his. “You’re very sweet, Copia. Thank you.” You mutter in response, then press your lips to his nose quickly. Slipping your hands away, you turn around and bend over enough to start the shower tap.

He chuckles at your words and kiss, but when he sees you bend over his eyes widen and a flush rises. He can’t help but get distracted, though fears that if he looks for too long he’ll just be staring. “Vale, caro mio… d-do you prefer if I look away?” Even as he asks the question, you can see him stealing glances at you.

You peek back at him, and swiftly turn your gaze back to the knobs. Though, it’s more to hide a growing smirk. Seeing him get so nervous about your body never really gets old. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” You respond, then stand upright.

“I… well…” The words don’t quite make it past his throat, and the blush grows on his cheeks. “I would just.. Feel bad if you found me staring, I-..” His voice drops to a whisper. “I think you look absolutely gorgeous, even from this perspective.” While he speaks, you feel a pair of hands on your waist.

You quickly look back at him over your shoulder and place your hands over his, thumbs running over the backs of his palms.

“Let me help you?” He asks in a mutter.

“Are you sure about this? Don’t push yourself, darling.”

He lets out a chuckle. “I’m not pushing myself,” He smiles and squeezes your hips, making his intentions quite clear. “but I appreciate your concern, amore.”

Before you can say anything else, he presses his face to your neck and starts to kiss along it, from your shoulder to just under your chin. And once he starts doing that, you can’t help but close your eyes and lean your head back, relenting. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Copia hums quietly- probably at the way you melted -before saying: “I’ll be fine, dear. I promise that loving you won’t break me.”

“Alright, I trust you- mm..” You angle your head to kiss his neck in return, and slide your hands up to caress his arms.

You feel him shiver, and he lets out a breathy groan that’s barely louder than a whisper. “I’ll never get enough of you, bello.” His grasp leaves your hips, and goes to your waist instead. At the same time, he slowly moves to kiss your back.

“Sweetheart, that doesn’t feel like helping me shower.” You comment lightheartedly.

“I know, just, eh.. give me a minute, schricchio?” His grasp tightens again, more reassuring and grounding than demanding.

Your eyes close, and you reach up to hold the shower bar for support. You can feel his hands working about you again, running his fingers over your waist, hips, thighs, and up to your shoulders and arms. It quickly builds into another gentle massage, pressure adding until you’re sighing and soaking up his touch all over again.

Occasionally, his hands brush your behind, which causes you to flinch- a little tense of the muscle is all, but even so, he notices. He laughs and presses more purposefully for just a second, all but groping you before returning to sweet little rubs. “You like it when I touch you there, don’t you?”

You chuckle in turn and roll your eyes.

Within some amount of minutes you’ve all but forgotten the original plan here.

“Oh, bene mio..” After a few moments, he leans in and kisses your face all over. “You look absolutely radiant..” He nuzzles your neck and whispers. “Ti amo così tanto.”

You’re snapped out of your trance, feeling his lips peppering your face. You smile, and try your best to reciprocate over your shoulder. “Mm… thank you, sweetheart.” You mutter, bringing a hand to his head and lightly scratching his wetted scalp. “I love you too.”

Copia hums when you touch his hair, and takes your hand. He kisses your fingertips, one by one, even the thumb. “There we go." He cups your face, then presses his lips to yours very gently. You can feel him breathe a sigh of relief, his face is absolutely flush - but not even because of what you just did, the sight of you truly affects him in such a way.

A slight giggle escapes you at his actions, and you sigh just as he did.

He peels away from your back, on the way getting a couple of soft pop sounds from his spine. Nothing painful, merely something par for the course at his age.

After a moment, you slowly stretch and roll your joints, which causes a deep sigh. “Satanas, my back, a-and legs…”

His eyes go wide at that.. “Are you okay?” He asks with concern, and you feel his hands grip onto you tighter. From his voice you can hear he’s genuinely worried. “Do I need to help you? Should I carry you? Are you hurt?” He asks quickly, the panic evident, along with a touch of shame. “What did I do? I was gentle, right?”

“Oh, honey, I’m fine!” You quickly reassure him, leaning in to kiss his forehead- though that produces another small noise of effort. “You were perfect, don’t worry. I meant it in a good way, they’re much better now.”

Copia lets out a breath of relief when he hears that. “Okay, good.” He says with a nervous chuckle, and kisses you back with a careful hug. “Can I have some rest on my love’s shoulder? I feel much better when we’re close.”

“After we shower, okay? The water’s been on this whole time, it’ll probably get cold soon.” You step away to retrieve a couple bottles of soap, handing one to him.

He nods and kisses you again, smiling. “Alright alright, no sleeping until we’re clean.” He looks down, which is when he gets an idea. “Here, let me help you with that first.”

You flush when you see him lower himself to reach, to wash your skin himself. “Oh, you don’t have to do… that…” But you know it’s no use. You bite your lip and look away, now a tad flustered.. “Thank you, I mean.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” He whispers, caressing your leg as he wipes you up. He seems absolutely focused on this task, and you can tell he’s not unhappy about it, seeing him occasionally smiling up at you. He moves very attentively, even using a washcloth to make sure he gets it all. In his mind, that’s the least he could do- and it’s a nice way to see your face blush.

You can’t help the sigh that leaves you, because it feels somewhat like another massage to your weakened muscles. You watch from the corner of your eyes until it’s done, and run your fingers through his hair. “You’re very kind to me, my love.”

Copia laughs quietly and shakes his head. “You are amore mio, it’s only natural I take care of you. Just wait and see, it’s going to be my turn next, and I already know you’re going to treat me well, too.”

You smile at him, lightly scratching his scalp. “You know me, I can’t go a day without pampering you.”

He kisses the inside of your thigh, making your flush deepen, and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, you are so soft and smooth, it makes me want to kiss you everywhere…”

“Ah, but that will take a long time, and I want you to get in bed as soon as possible.” You respond with a subtle laugh.

He seems to consider your suggestion, and finally nods. “Alright, I will do as I’m told.” He kisses your other thigh and stands back up, although this time he wraps an arm around your waist and leans his upper half onto you. “Let’s get you cleaned and into bed, you hear?”

You smile at him and reciprocate the embrace. “Loud and clear, Papa.” You say with a giggle, then press your lips to his for a quick kiss before pulling back and getting started on your hair.

As you do that, he works on your back and neck very carefully with a cloth.

You hum at the feeling of him helping you wash the harder-to-reach areas, and look back at him. “Copia, there’s no need to be so gentle. I won’t shatter, you know that.” You reach behind yourself to press his hand a little more to your skin, the muscles tensing underneath his touch. “But… It does feel nice, and I appreciate it.”

“Oh, I know.” But he can’t help it. Your skin is so nice to him, and it makes him want to be gentle at all times. That, and the little scare from last time have a certain effect on how confident his strokes are. Even so, his fingers move a little more firmly on your back, gliding around at an even pace. “A-Am I doing alright?” He asks softly.

You nod, your eyes having closed after a few moments of him starting. “Mm… yes, you’re doing wonderfully.” Soon enough, you’re humming at the touch, somewhat resembling a purr.

Copia feels like his heart is overflowing with affection. You look delightful when he touches you, and you feel like pure bliss, like you’re the most precious flower in the world. He gets behind your ears with his free hand and speaks gently. “Just close your eyes, baby, enjoy it.”

You subconsciously try to lean into the touch, the tilt of your head making it noticeable that your lips are slightly parted. “That’s good…” You murmur, your tone on top of everything else making it clear that you may not be entirely aware at this moment.

His breath catches in his throat. He seems completely unaware of everything else- of the shower and all -as he leans forward and kisses you lovingly on the mouth. There’s so much love in his fingers and lips, you can practically feel and taste it.

Your eyes snap open, but just as quickly flutter shut, and you reciprocate. When you eventually pull back, you slowly open your lids, which reveals pupils blown wide. “What was that for…?”

He gives you a sweet smile. “Because I love you.” He says. He presses his palm against your cheek and caresses it, making sure you see his expression. He leans in close and whispers to you. “And because you’re absolutely bewitching tonight, you look so perfect..” He pauses. “..I want to kiss you forever.”

You exhale shakily at his touch, and nuzzle into his hand. “I don’t look any different than I usually do…” You remark, but his last sentence gets your attention much more quickly. Your gaze darts from his eyes to lips before you end up closing them again, then press a kiss to his wrist, which gets a quiet noise from him. “You could certainly try later, but we have to finish up here.”

Copia smiles gently. “And you’re absolutely stunning at all times, so I don’t see why I can’t kiss you whenever I want.” He gives out a small chuckle and a sigh. “I couldn’t have wished for anyone better.”

A smile spreads over your lips at that, and you pull his hand off of you to kiss the knuckles of it. “My turn to help you wash up?” You ask softly, looking at him with your mouth hovering over the back of his palm. “At least your hair, if you think it’s too much for me to touch your body.”

His hair is still dripping, and his eyes wander to your lips at your kisses. He’s snapped back into reality by your question, though, and clears his throat. “Your touch is never too much,” he whispers. “But… yes, just for now, honey.”

Your smile turns into an excited grin, and you waste no time in getting the shampoo into his hair. You turn him around so his back is to you, and begin gently working the soap into his scalp with your fingers. “You have such lovely hair..” You mutter, then lean down to kiss the back of his neck.

Copia lets out a little groan of relief and closes his eyes as you wash his hair, your words warming his heart. He really just loves listening to you speak. “Mm, you do too.” He whispers and leans his head back in an effort to receive more kisses.

You slowly trail your lips down to his shoulder, and rest your chin there. At the same time, you remove your hands from his head and have them come to rest on his upper arms. “I’m afraid it’s not as good as yours, love.” You press a quick kiss to his cheek before curling your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

He feels like he’s melting into you, like he might just lose focus and fall into a state of bliss. “I can’t believe it took me so long to meet you..” He mumbles.

“It didn’t take so long for us to meet as it did to realize we were meant for each other.”

He laughs slightly, and gives a short kiss to your forehead. “You’re right, and it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

That was true enough. The two of you danced around your feelings like fools for a long while until, by some miraculous twist of fate, the fantasies from your mutual pining had all come to fruition.

“I-” His voice catches in his throat, bottom lip trembling slightly.

You give him a gentle squeeze to his torso, then reach up to slide your thumb along his bottom lip. “You’re shaking a little, are you cold? Come on, get under the water.”

Your touch draws his full attention. “Oh! Mmf- yes, it’s a little c-cold..” He smiles at you. “It’s nothing, no big deal.” He lies. Then he moves forward, stepping under the shower head.

You try to bite back a smirk that tugs at the corners of your mouth, noticing you must have flustered him. You don’t comment on it, only helping him rinse the soap out of his brown locks, accented with streaks of grey.

He then scrubs himself down, as do you, getting the areas that he didn’t earlier. Once that’s done, you take your turn in the water, letting out a deep groan as the bubbles slide down your frame with the warmth.

He watches them go, though has to tear his gaze away when it further exposes your skin. “Mmnh.. You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He sounds happy to see you relax.

You glance at him following the noise, but just as quickly return to the task. “It does feel rather nice…” You respond, just before finishing up. You lean over to shut off the tap, then squeeze some of the water from your hair. “Would you get the towels? I’ll help dry you off.”

He nods, and scans the space around him. “Alright, where are they..?” Before you can point out the rack on the wall next to him he turns, perks up, laughs, and says “Ah, here they are! I knew I wasn’t that blind.” He picks a few of them up, and wraps one around your body before beginning to dry you off, being particularly careful not to press on your back or legs too hard.

You smile at him, partially in amusement, and take a different cloth to lightly tussle his hair. “You know you don’t have to do that, love.” You say softly, but don’t make any real attempt to stop him.

Copia’s cheeks heat up at your touch of his hair. “I know I don’t have to, but I really do enjoy taking care of you.”

It isn’t very long before he’s done, though, and you start to dry him off in return, and he looks away with a flush forming.

“I like to see you smile…” He finally adds on, his words sounding like a shy admission. “so, it’s… it’s worth it.”

“You’re very sweet, you know that? I hope so, because I say it so much.” You finish with that and tie the towel around his hips, then you take another to continue with his hair, moving it about his head carefully. “It’s really nice when you do things for me. I’m still not quite used to it, honestly…"

He lets out a small chuckle. “Aww, really? It’s just a couple of small tasks, it’s not like I’m doing much.” He pauses, a grin growing while you work on his hair. “Do you actually like it that much? I feel like it’s nothing special…”

You nod. “Well, to you it may be small, but they mean the world to me.

“You mean the world to me.” He says, to which you can only smile at.

You eventually get done with his hair too, though it’s still a bit damp, and remove the towel. Then, you smooth it out a little with your hands, and use one to tilt his chin so his face meets yours. “Pretty boy…”

His gaze finds you when you tilt his head, eyes meeting yours once again, blinking quickly as he stares at you, his face heating up considerably. After a moment of silence, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

You melt into it with a small noise- something between a surprised hum and a whine- and curl your arms around his torso in an embrace. When your mouths separate, you rest your forehead against his. “You are quite the romantic tonight, aren’t you?” You say with a slight laugh. “We should get to bed now, I want to hold you for as long as possible.”

Copia lets out a breath at the contact, something so simple yet so important. "Mm, you're one to talk," He smiles and shakes his head slowly. "you get so cute and love-y when you're exhausted." he whispers, then looks up at you and asks: "Is that what you want to do? Just hold me in your arms and relax? "

“Hey, I’m not exhausted, it's just that my legs are a little weak is all…” You remark in faux offense. “...and my back.” You add. “But, yes. I would very much just like to have you close to me for the rest of the night. It.. wouldn’t hurt to be caressed again either, I suppose.”

He sighs and smiles at you, an expression teeming with infatuation. "If you want me to pet you tonight- and any other night, for that matter -I'll do it as much as you want. Don't be afraid to ask." He hardly stifles a little laugh, and then continues. "Heh.. There's nothing wrong with being a bit of a cat. We can be quite purrfect together."

A loud laugh escapes you at that, and you playfully nudge him away. “Oh, you dork! That pun was horrible!” But the grin on your face says that you liked it.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, the sound of your laugh making him feel warm. "Ah, well.. at least I'm your dork." He caresses your cheek and gently strokes your hair. "You can make fun of me as much as you like, I don't mind if it makes you happy.. "

You reach up and hold his hands where they are to your face, closing your eyes and leaning into the touch. “I am not making fun of you, Copia.” You say quietly, and begin making your way out of the tub with his hand in yours.

The two of you retrieve the clothes he’d set out before, which are the most comfortable satin pajamas either of you own, a matching pair you had gotten him for an anniversary gift. He only uses his on the most necessary days, and you just prefer wearing yours along with him, so you followed that idea by extension.

“Come on, let’s get to that bed, hm?” You ask after haphazardly buttoning up your top, half of your chest still exposed.

While putting out the candles, he responds. “Well, wait, have you had dinner? At least let me-”

“We can still have food delivered, right?” Your voice cuts through his offer.

He pauses to think.

“Eh.. technically, yes…”

“Then lay down and relax with me, won’t you?” You ask with a laugh, admittedly amused by his efforts. You pull his hand up towards your lips to kiss the back of it, watching him.

He smiles wide and relents, resting his head on you as you two make your way out of the bathroom. “Sì, caro mio… Grazie.”

Translations (Kind of):

“Vale” : “It’s worth it”

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