#why not start the paper trail immediately!!!

[cowb0ycrime]

.

[lokh]

ok. i might have to actually go see someone

[rafesproperty]

Rafe Cameron x Reader GF <3

Rafe with a girlfriend that loves to read. He doesn’t get it. Really. But he’d do anything to make his girl happy. ❤️‍🩹

Just Rafe being disgustingly sweet and spoiling reader…

I wanna make a part 2 where he finds out about annotating cuz that scenario is just hillarious to me 😭 lmk if you want it!

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Hey, baby,” Rafe mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, it was early in the morning and his voice was still rough, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he reached for your coffee and took a sip. You were staying at Tannyhill for a while because his dad was on some family trip with Sarah and Rose.

You chuckled and reached for your coffee, snatching it from his hand. “Morning.”

He started to make coffee for himself as well, you’d normally admire his back in the white shirt he was wearing, but you were almost finished with your book so you kept reading, eyes glued to the page. Rafe noticed and looked over his shoulder at you. “Wheezie’s still sleeping?” His eyes trailed down to the table, one singular book laying there but a bunch of mini colorful papers and pens laying around it. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed there was no notebook tho. Weird.

“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, clearly more focused on the text in your book than on him. “Made you some waffles.” You added and kept reading the page quickly. Suddenly you let out a gasp.

“What?” Rafe quickly turned around, his flight fight or fight mode on immediately. Then he let out a frustrated groan when he realised why you gasped and he leaned against the table, flexing his arms (not happy that you didn’t even look), and sneaking a glance at the page.

“Oh, my fucking God. I need to know the rest.” You let out a tortured moan and looked up at him, suddenly realising you were not alone and that your very much judgy boyfriend was staring at you. You felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry, um… it just… was intense is all.” You closed the book shut, avoiding eye contact with him.

Rafe grinned. “You’re so weird.” He mumbled and ran a hand through your hair. “So, so weird it actually makes you cute as fuck.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, you closed your eyes and purred softly at his touch. He smirked, satisfied that he finally got your attention.

You chuckled at his comment, looking up at him. You knew Rafe didn’t get it. He was very much reality-oriented and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to force him to read a book if his life depended on it. Yours maybe… but you’d probably die anyway. Plus there was no way he’d ever find the time in his schedule to read something. He was either taking care of business or spent all his free time with you and you only, and intended to keep it that way.

He went back to making coffee and you pulled out your phone, looking up the next book in the series you were currently reading. The thing is it was still a fresh release and everyone loved this series so it was sold out everywhere, hard to get and if a store had it they put an insane price on it, knowing some people would buy it anyway.

“30 fucking dollars for a paperback? Fucking assholes.” You slammed your phone down and Rafe turned around, giving you a look of genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He had no idea what a paperback means, or how much books even cost. Thirty dollars sounded normal to him… cheap even.

“What’s wrong? Baby 30 bucks would be insane even for a hardcover.”

“A what?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking ridiculous. They put a big price on it because they know people want it and some people will buy it but I-“

“I’ll get it for you.” Rafe stopped your rant and sat down next to you with his coffee and the waffles you made earlier.

“What? No, Rafey, no. It’s so fucking expensive.”

He genuinely grinned at your statement. “Baby, it’s 30 bucks.” He rested his hand on your knee, drawing little circles with his thumb, trying to ease your mood. He was still sleepy, normally you’d admire how pretty he looked with his hair all messy and eyes puffy.

“No. That’s not the point. It’s too much for a book. Baby a paperback is usually around 10 dollars.”

“So?”

You groaned. Oh how you wanted to rant to someone about how stupid it was, but of course Rafe didn’t understand. Where was Wheezie when you needed her?

Rafe grabbed your phone and checked the location of the bookstore. You both ate your waffles and chatted about some other things for a while. He eventually got up. “Get dressed, we’ll go get it.”

“Rafey it’s really okay-“

“Shut upppp,” it was his turn to groan in annoyance now and you chuckled at his expression. “Wanna make you happy baby, I don’t give a fuck if it costs a thousand. Get dressed.”

There was no arguing with Rafe once he made up his mind. You were on his bike within a few minutes, holding on to him as he parked in front of the bookstore. He grabbed your waist as he led you inside, holding you close to him — it was a thing he did whenever you went to public together.

You immediately knew where to look for the book you wanted, but your eyes lingered on some new releases on your way over to the fantasy isle anyway, remembering you wanted some of them.

Rafe followed closely behind, texting Barry back on his phone about something.

There were two girls standing next to the fantasy isle and you heard them rant about how overpriced this specific book is and how unfair it is. You really couldn’t agree more. You reached for it and sighed. “Oh God,” you mumbled to yourself when you saw the price. Not thirty, but thirty fucking two.

“Right?!” One of the girls looked at you, obviously also pissed off. “I mean, how greedy can they get.” She ranted.

“Yeah I threw a tantrum when I saw how much it is this morning.” You laughed and she laughed as well, the other girl adding in her own complaining and you were chatting about it for a while, talking about the events of the first book in the series. Rafe was behind you for a while but he got annoyed with Barrys shit over the phone so he found a chair to sit on and let you talk to the girls.

“Right, um, I’ll get going.” You eventually said to the girls when you noticed Rafe was now just scrolling on his phone. You didn’t really wanna keep him waiting.

“Wait you’re actually buying it?!”

“Um,” you let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, well, no… my um, boyfriend’s getting it for me.” You admitted, you didn’t want to brag but you also didn’t want to say you’re getting it and take the credit for something he’s paying for.

“Oh wow, lucky.” One of the girls smiled, sneaking a glance at him. You could tell just from the look in her eyes that she found Rafe scary. Most people did.

“I’m jealous,” the other whispered, whether about your boyfriend or the book was not clear. You smiled and said your goodbye, and went over to Rafe who was now on his feet, leaning against the wall.

He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you only came back with that one book. “Did you fucking read the whole thing already?”

“What do you mean?” You grinned, ignoring his grumpiness.

“I thought you were picking shit. What were you doing?”

“Oh no, I was chatting with some girls. Sorry. They also had a lot to say about the pricing.” You smiled at him apologetically.

“Well yeah, but go pick more books.” He said annoyed. He didn’t really mind waiting for you but he didn’t understand why you only grabbed one.

“No, baby, this one’s already overpriced as fuck I don’t wanna-“

“For Gods sake Y/N, we’re already here. Get more. Wanna spoil you baby.” He brushed his finger against your cheek and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him and tried to hide your blush.

“Okay, alright. Can you—“

“Mhm,” he knew what you were asking immediately and grabbed the one you already had so you can go look at some more.

You were walking around the isles, checking out a bunch of books. You’d lie if you said you didn’t want almost every single one. As you were reading the back of some modern romance Rafe appeared behind you, he came closer to you and put one hand next to your head, leaning against you. You could feel his breath at the back of your neck and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Isn’t that just about sex?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, not noticing that the girls you were chatting to earlier were standing next to you and Rafe.

He seemed genuinely confused. “Why’d you read about it when we can do it?”

“Rafe,” you laughed again and turned around to face him, giving him a look, blushing when you noticed there were other people too.

“What? I’m serious. Bet I can make you feel better than some words on paper.” He brushed his hand against your back and you felt your whole body tense up… that is until you heard the girls next to you giggle.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled, embarassment evident in your face. But Rafe just smirked, always eager to make you flustered.

“Besides,” you added, putting the book back, “you’d be surprised what a few words on paper can do to you.”

He gave you a susprised look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah where do you think I learned all my tricks?” You said jokingly and he grinned as well.

“Dunno, you were pretty innocent before I corrupted your pretty mind.” He mumbled next to your ear and nibbled at the skin of your exposed neck, softly kissing a mark. His mark.

Rafe smirked when he noticed the way your body reacted by leaning closer to him, and reached over you to grab the book you placed back. “So we’re buying it?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow. You were obviously intrigued by it, he thought.

“It doesn’t sound that interesting,” obvious lie, “’m gonna look for something else.”

“Get something else and this as well?”

“No, Rafey, books can get-“ but he just rolled his eyes and held it next to the first book you picked. Already made up his mind.

You knew he’d just get it no matter what you said. “Wait, it’s a sequel, can you—“ You looked up, not only was this store overpriced as fuck but they obviously also had zero respect for small people.

“Hm, here,” he leaned even closer, brushing his lips against your ear, trapping you a little, your back pressed against the bookshelf. “Which one?” He teased you with a smirk, his fingers brushing your hair aside to make the marks he left there the other day visible, his breath brushing over them.

Then he got the book you pointed at, leaving you shivering just a bit more. “Needing me so bad for everything…” he murmured happily.

Rafe figured quickly that you’d act all humble the whole time. You always picked up a book, read the back, smiled at it… and put it back. Every. Damn. Time. And after an hour of him waiting you had the audacity to come to him with only two books. He didn’t say anything, just got up, grabbed them from your hands and made his way to the cashier.

“Hey, princess, hold this for me.” He handed you the four books as he wanted to reach into his pocket for his wallet on the way. You took the books without questioning him, and he quickly grabbed most of the books he noticed you were checking earlier. He also grabbed the better ones, the ones that were more expensive… hardbacks? That’s what you called it, right? So quickly you didn’t even really get the chance to protest.

“Rafe-“

“Shut it,” he growled and this was the first time today he didn’t say that in a joking manner.

So you did.

“Everything alright, sir?” The cashier asked. Rafe gave her a quick nod and noticed they had some snacks — mostly chocolates — there. So he grabbed a few and added that to the pile of books.

He waited for the cashier to finish her job when you suddenly realised something.

“Rafe, wait.” You mumbled and ran off. He didn’t really understand but you came back with one more book a second later. He didn’t mind at all. Tho it didn’t really seem like your style, compared to all the other books… this one was colorful and seemed like some rom-com high school bullshit, but he didn’t question you.

“Your total’s $273, sir…”

You felt your body freeze. “Rafe you don’t-“

But he already pulled out his card without blinking an eye. “Told you to shut it.” He whispered and grabbed the bags with your books and threw his free arm around you, leading you out of the store.

He let out a sigh when you both exited the store and you were afraid for a second that it was because it really was too expensive.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

Fuck.

“The worst sugar baby ever.” He added and gave you a relaxed smile.

Oh… that’s what he meant. You felt relief as you smiled at him as well, laughing at his nickname for you.

“Thank you, baby.” You mumbled and wrapped your arms around his waist as you both made your way to his bike.

“Mhm, anything for you. Anytime.” He kissed the top of your head and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Wheezie was already up when you both returned to Tannyhill. She was excited to see all the books you got so you sat down on a couch with her and showed her everything, telling her about each one. Rafe didn’t really care… plus all the fantasy terms started to give him a headache so he minded his own business, dealing with something on his phone again, occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.

“Oh yeah, this one’s for you. I knew you wanted it.”

That caught his attention. He looked up from his phone and saw Wheezies eyes sparkle as she flipped through the book you picked for her. He felt his heart warm up. You really were thinking of his little sister too… He’s so going you wife you up one day. Probably soon.

He sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you gently, thanking you.

[hearts4renaa]

SO HIGHSCHOOL ~

summary: all the corny, cute, romcom type things you guys do that makes everyone at NRC swoon. featuring the dorm leaders. contains: 1.4k words in total of fluff fluff and more fluff. gn reader, one of the lyrics i reference uses "her" but that's it. a/n: inspired by 'so high school' by taylor swift! i might make this into a series.... lololol we'll see! please enjoyy

“’Cause I feel so high school, every time I look at you ~”

“You knew what you wanted, and boy, you got her ~”

Riddle went above and beyond while courting you, giving you flowers, remembering and celebrating basically every important date, and eventually officially asking you to be his.

You giggle and almost coo when you open your locker to yet another small bundle of roses. You gently grab the small bouquet, letting yourself relish in both the floral scent and the affection you feel by this gesture. Ace and Deuce groan from besides you, already knowing who they’re from. “Geez, that guy and his roses, hey?” Ace comments. “That’s the third one within the past four weeks!”

You shush Ace playfully, your fingers trailing over the little paper tag attached to the ribbon. Your brain recognizes the penmanship almost immediately, for this handwriting has expressed numerous words of love towards you countless times before. Your heart flutters as your eyes scan the paper.

I love you forever, dearest.

“Truth, dare, spin bottles. You know how to ball, I know Aristotle ~”

You go to all of Leona’s Spelldrive games! you show up in Savanaclaw colors, your hair styled like his, and the biggest smile on earth.

“And look at that!” the Spelldrive announcer exclaims. “Yet another goal from Savanaclaw’s very own Housewarden,” The camera captures Leona’s signature smirk as he high fives a nearby teammate, high off the adrenaline of the game. “He’s playing well tonight,” The announcer speaks. “And I think we all know why!”

The camera pans to your absolutely shining face, cheering from the stands with crinkled eyes and hands clapping. Leona pauses for a moment to look at you, his eyes locating you almost immediately. “I love you, you’re doing great!” You mouth to him in pure excitement. Leona cracks a small smile before getting his head back in the game. He scored six more times that night.

“Get my car door, isn’t that sweet? Then pull me to the backseat ~”

Azul gives you total gentleman treatment! You haven’t opened a door in ages and you completely forgot what carrying a bag feels like.

“Thanks for tonight, Azul.” You smile at him as the two of you begin to approach the entrance of the Ramshackle dorm building. “I had a great time, as always. You didn’t have to walk me home, again, though.” You chuckle lightly. Azul gives a small smirk back, but his eyes gleam at your comments. His hand squeeze yours just a little tighter, and a faint blush starts to creep up his face.

“I’m glad,” He says softly. “And you know I’d do almost anything to spend more time with you.” Your front door comes fully into view and you feel as if it’s ending all too fast. Despite how many dates you’ve gone on, the rush of being out with Azul is something you’ll never get fully used to. He always leaves you craving him and his company. The two of you come to a still at your porch, and he turns to face you. He whispers your name, bringing your hand to his mouth and lightly kissing your knuckles. You swear that no fairytale prince could ever compete against him.

“I’m high from smoking your jokes all damn night ~”

You’re the first person Kalim looks at when he tells a joke. Taking you to his family home proved that he was absolutely serious about you, and it’s so evident that his siblings can see how much he loves you too.

The group of younger siblings burst into another fit of laughter at Kalim’s joke, as if they had never heard anything funnier in their lives. “Again, Kalim,” One of his brothers tugs on his sleeve. “Tell another one!”

While Kalim’s jokes were inevitably corny, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as well. The smiles of the little children were infectious, their energy fueling your own joy. Kalim tells another joke, but his eyes weren’t focused on his siblings’ reactions. No, he wasn’t even looking at their faces at all. His eyes automatically find your figure with each joke he tells, and he feels his heart swell each time you laugh. With your head thrown back and your eyes wrinkled with giggles, he’s never seen a sight more beautiful.

“Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It’s just a game, but really, I’m betting on all three, for us two ~”

Vil likes to mention you in his interviews, and he does it almost unconsciously. Questions about his romantic life are inevitable with someone of his level of fame, but he handles each one with grace.

The studio lights would be blinding for most, but Vil’s been in this industry for so long that he’s gotten used to it. The questions from the interview have been rapid fire, and Vil responds to each one with a graceful, almost calculated response. He’s been running on autopilot the entire morning; well, until your name gets brought up.

“Now, I just have to ask,” The interviewer crosses her legs and leans in towards Vil, as if he was telling her a secret. “Kiss, marry, kill: Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, and your partner, Y/N?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment before answering the question. “I wouldn’t kill any of them,” Vil responds with a small smirk. Kissing you is as easy as breathing to him, and the idea of marrying you sends a chill down his spine. He loves you like he was made for it, and his devotion shines like a glittering gem. Vil continues his response. “But the first two options are reserved for Y/N and Y/N only.”

“Brand new, full throttle. Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto ~”

Idia likes to have some sort of physical contact with you at all times. At first, he was really jumpy, but your touch has become a comfort to him.

You hum as you lean onto Idia, your head resting on his shoulder. The lights in his room are dim, save for the bright TV near the edge of his bed. Your left arm is linked with his right one and you nuzzle your cheek into the fabric of his sweater. The clicking sounds of Idia’s controller lull you into a drowsy state, the late hours starting to hit you.

Idia looks away from his game to gaze at your sleepy figure, and he feels his cheeks start to heat up. It’s definitely not the first time you’ve done this, but the intimacy of it all still brings a warm, fuzzy feeling into his chest. The idea that the two of you could simply link arms, sit in silence, and do your own things and be content astounds him just a little bit; He thought you would’ve gotten bored. Your affection for each other runs much deeper, but you can feel all of it in the form of linked arms.

“No one’s ever had me, not like you ~”

What’s there that Malleus doesn’t do for you? But seriously, one of his favorite things to do with you is stargaze at nighttime, where his affection for you is at an all time high.

The night air is soothing as the chill creeps up your skin, keeping you awake. Malleus sits next to you, his presence being a comfort. The moon is bright tonight, the field quiet, with the occasional chirp from the nearby birds. The stars in the sky create a masterpiece of little lights, and Malleus can’t help but stare at you like you’re a work of art.

Malleus rubs his thumb into the flesh of your hand, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. He feels the sudden need to ask a question that’s been weighing on him for a little while. His voice rings in your ears.

“You truly don’t fear me?”

You giggle lightly, letting go of his hand and turning to fully face him. Your fingers brush past his cheeks, cupping them gently and bringing your foreheads together. “I could never,” You whisper, smiling brightly. “Not when you love me so deeply.” His heart swells with affection. You open your mouth to continue, but his lips crash against yours before you can get another word out.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 203 }

attention seeker.

alternate title: the five times he purposely got injured to get your attention.

sylus x (non.mc)healthcare.worker!fem.reader

notes: healthcare worker can be any profession of your choosing in the medical field like nursing, physician, pharmacist, physical therapist, etc.

{ i know you’re faking it, but that’s okay. }

ever since sylus knew of your occupation as a healthcare worker, the man stopped healing himself using his abilities, always wanting you to take care of his injuries and wounds.

he didn’t care how his wounds could heal with just a mere snap of his fingertips. all he wanted was to feel your soft touch; to bask in the way you would always dote on him as your fingertips would lightly trace at his cuts and bruises.

“what's this? aren't you the almighty leader of onychinus who can't be killed? why would you ever need my services?" he recalls you asking him in a giggle, earning a growl of your name from him as he gave you paper thin excuses.

"i have been feeling more exhausted than usual, and am unable to bring forth such abilities. so... are you going to heal me or not?" his haughty reply would always earn him a playful roll of your eyes at him, yet you were never one to deny him of his needs (a fact that he was all too willing to take advantage of.)

currently, he was busy examining his supply of weapons, and his hands itched with a sudden desire to run his fingers through your hair while bringing your pliant form into his embrace. frustrated at how distracted he was feeling, sylus pushes himself away from his desk all while taking deliberate strides toward your shared bedroom.

he arrives at the master bedroom within a few minutes, letting a huff in response as he pushes aside the doors, revealing your sleeping form settled comfortably atop the king-sized bed. sylus freezes in his steps, wishing to take a moment to admire you. crimson eyes trail down your body with adoration shining within his gaze, taking note of how vulnerable you looked as his silk sheets were tangled up within the length of your legs.

after spending a few moments simply watching you, sylus steps closer to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he reaches out a hand to brush back your hair. while burning your image into his very memories, he couldn't help but reminisce about the times he had given himself an injury or experienced pain, just so he could begin to heal with your gentle touch...

{ ... }

sylus had purposely put himself in the middle of a bar fight the moment the bastard had managed to give him a black eye in response to his intervention. he was around the area, wishing to check on the businesses he owned when he stepped foot into the bar.

immediately, he knew something was amiss when he caught sight of a drunkard messing with one of the female bartenders, the scent of vodka reeking from the bastard's very veins when sylus stepped closer to him. he merely placed a hand on that drunkard's shoulder when the bastard swung at him, managing to land his fist against sylus's eye.

red hot anger was felt coursing through his veins as he grabbed the vodka drenched man by the collar of his torn shirt, forcing him to land head first against the onyx counter. when he hears the satisfying crunch of bones breaking against the marble counter, a sense of satisfaction fills him-

but sylus wanted more-

he was bloodthirsty, and he felt the way his left eyelid seemed to pulse from the sudden impact of the asshole's punch-

yet what ultimately stops him was the sight of your smiling face, and how you would have been so disappointed in him for ruthlessly killing for no good reason.

with a scoff, sylus shoves the drunkard away from the counter before dragging his body out of his bar, tossing him outside and into the pouring rain. "you're lucky i felt generous enough to spare your life. leave this place and never come back, unless you really have a death wish."

sylus was uncertain if the man had even heard him when he started to puke profusely, earning another grunt of disgust from onychinus's leader as he looked away from the vomiting man.

turning away from the mess, sylus goes to check on the bartender, and once he was certain she was unharmed, he leaves the bar through the back exit and rides his motorcycle, with the intention of returning home to his shared penthouse-

of returning home to you.

filled with motivation thanks to the thought of you, sylus purposely speeds through the rain, dodging traffic as he rode between several vehicles with you as his sole purpose. after racing through the city, he finally arrives back home, parking his bike in its usual spot before making his trek back to toward the penthouse settled at the top floor.

the moment he unlocks the door, he was greeted by your smiling face, with your arms already outstretched to welcome him. however, when you notice the purple and black bruise beginning to blossom against his left eye was when your demeanor completely changes.

"oh my god, what happened to you, sylus?!"

"hm? what do you mean?" he was frowning, but here you were, chattering around him like a worried, mother hen.

"your eye...! your left eye has the worst bruise on it!" you tell him with a hiss, taking him into your shared bedroom before settling him on one of the couches. he was ready to protest, the words ready to spill from his parted lips when you suddenly disappeared into the bathroom, pulling out a first aid kit before rejoining him on the couch.

with your eyes filled with love and concern for him, he allows you to gently dab at his bruised eye with a cold handkerchief, biting back a grin as you worked on treating his bruise.

he never used his powers to heal that night, for he found a much deeper comfort in having you care for him instead.

{ ... }

the day he had broken his arm was completely and utterly accidental on his part. he was simply working out, not paying any attention when the weights on the shelf slid down and just happened to land on his arm.

upon feeling such an impact on his arm, he let out a string of curses, but refused to readjust his arm and heal himself. when he steps out of his personal gym and greets you, he purposely lays the extent of his pain on thick.

"sweetie... i'm afraid an accident happened... could you help me? i believe my left arm is broken."

you were in the midst of reading a book when he returned back home to you, already seeing the worry in your gaze as you stood up from your seat. "sy, what happened?"

he lets out a hiss when you gingerly touch at his arm, hiding back a grin before admitting to you. "i think a fifty pound weight fell off from the shelf and landed on my arm when i tried to catch it. the pain... it's too much to bear. i can hardly focus."

that was when your doting nature reappeared, helping him into bed with the same determination shining in your eyes as you put some ice on his arm while offering him some medicine to aid with easing the pain.

you spend the next hour or so scolding him, telling him to be more careful as you help with keeping his arm in place, already making plans to set up an appointment at the clinic for him as sylus couldn't help but simply smile in response.

never before had another human being shown so much compassion and concern for him-

and he loved every minute of it.

{ ... }

the bruises on his back and abdomen caused by luke and kieran's training was also a mess that sylus had purposely brought upon himself.

knowing that his kids henchmen were all too eager to train and show off their newly acquired skills at ambushing him, sylus allows the twins to treat him like their own personal punching bag, knowing that their blows were hardly painful-

but it was enough to cause a series of bruises appear all across his body, causing your gentle hands to remain glued to him, doing everything that you could to help him heal.

after spending two hours with the twins, sylus dismisses them the moment he hears you coming home from work. knowing that you were currently undressing in the bedroom, ready to destress after a hard day at work.

with a half smirk donning his features, he enters the bedroom dressed in his gym clothes. calling out your name, he catches your attention, watching as you turn around and face him.

"hello, my grumpy crow." he grumbles at your nickname for him, but welcomes you in his arms with little hesitation. you lean up to press a kiss against his lips, allowing him to deepen it for a brief moment before pulling away from him.

you meet his gaze, arms already coming up to wrap around his neck when you saw several purple and black marks on his chest.

"sylus, what happened to you?!" you let out a gasp, taking a step back as you saw several bruises blossoming against his pale skin. he simply hums, feigning innocence as he looked down at his chest. "oh, luke and kieran's punches were so light that i barely felt them. i guess they're getting stronger now if they're able to bruise me like this."

a look of suspicion crosses your lovely features, but instead of questioning him, you let out a sigh before taking his hand and leading him into your shared bathroom.

with his luxurious, porcelain tub in sight, you turn on the faucet, allowing the hot water to fill before focusing your attention on sylus. he meets your gaze, expression filled with a calm confidence. he watches as you step closer to him, hands running up the fabric of his tank top before sliding it off his body. you do the same with his shorts and boxers, leaving him completely bare for you.

"wow, you've stripped me of all my clothes and have yet to pounce on me, that's quite an achievement, kitten." you roll your eyes at his teasing words, pushing him into the tub as he lands inside of it with an audible splash!

his eyes darken with desire for you, hands running through his now soaked strands of hair. he sits back up against the tub while watching you with hungry eyes as you shed the rest of your clothes. once you remained just as bare for him, you join him, settling yourself on his lap while gently massaging and soothing the bruises seen across his body.

unfortunately for you, your innocent touches simply served as a means for sylus to unleash the entirety of his desires on you, making love to you as he stopped caring about the sheer amount of water that lands against the marble flooring of the bathroom in response to sylus's passionate movements... simply basking in your cries of pleasure.

{ ... }

the day he had gotten sick with a fever was something that was truly accidental on his part.

it was a stressful time for him, with news of a traitor lingering within onychinus taking over his time as he sought out the mole. sylus had spent countless nights looming over his men, his eyes never leaving their sights before he came into contact with a man who's thoughts were filled to the brim with greed.

upon realizing that the bastard had been leaking important information to a rival, sylus takes it upon himself to get rid of the problem permanently, refusing to give the man a second chance (even as he begged for his life.)

yet by the end of it all, a strange exhaustion was felt coursing through his veins. his steps were uneven and heavy when he manages to return back to the penthouse, panting while thinking of you (always thinking of you).

the moment he comes home and sees you in the kitchen, the scent of your cooking filling his nostrils, he thought he would be excited to see you; to bask in your cooking as he was finally able to relax after such an arduous event.

but all he felt was an impending nausea, leaving him trembling and coughing as he struggled to get on the couch. hearing his struggles, you shut off the stove and cease cooking, coming closer to him.

"sylus!"

you settle yourself in front of him, taking note of the haziness seen within his gaze. normally, his eyes shone a bright red and ruby hue, so filled with life-

yet now, they became hazy and dull, losing the light it once had due to his mental exhaustion.

sylus was unable to respond to you, letting out a deep sigh when he feels the palm of your hand touch at his skin. you gasp, feeling just how hot his skin was beneath your touch. "you're burning up...!"

still in a haze, sylus was dimly aware of the way you helped him stand up, practically dragging his body towards the bedroom as his fevered body was pressed up against you. he didn't know when or how it happened, but you had placed his body in bed while peeling off his clothes, leaving his expensive suit in a pile in the corner of the room.

the man was about to respond to you, telling you how his suit was worth what a businessman makes in a year, but was unable to do so. he was going in and out of consciousness, dimly aware of you saying "i'll be right back..." before disappearing from his view completely.

sylus's hands itched with the urge to grip at your wrists-

to prevent you from leaving him so soon when all he wanted was for you to stay by his side and hold him; to comfort him when he was in such desperate need of you.

without you here, the man found it difficult to close his eyes and fall asleep, your absence making him feel even grumpier as he sat up from his spot in bed. losing track of time, he was ready to stomp out of the room (using all of his remaining strength if he had to) just to get to you and force you to come back with him.

but his anger soon disappears the moment you enter the room with a tray in hand. he tilts his head at you, seeing what looked like a steaming bowl of soup with a tall glass of ice water and some tylenol. setting the tray on the nightstand, you click your tongue and hold the bowl in your hand.

"what am i going to do with you?"

sylus chuckles in response to your question, "what are you going to do with me? well, you're going to take care of me, of course."

you let out a soft laugh before dipping the spoon in the broth, gently blowing on it before feeding it to him. you bask in the way he allows you to feed him, showing you a vulnerability that you had never seen before. once he finishes eating the soup, you offer him two tablets and watch as he drains it with the glass of water. only when you place the emptied glass on the tray did he make his move.

with your hands free of all bowls and utensils, sylus wraps his arms around your body, crushing your form close to his chest before laying back in bed with you. a series of giggles was heard coming from your parted lips, and sylus found that he had enough strength to bask in such a sweet sound.

he continues holding you, allowing your gaze to meet with his, you gently brush back his hair with a smile, smoothing back the lines seen against his forehead before gently telling him, "go to sleep... you need it."

sylus lets out a huff of your name, taking a hold of your hand before biting down against the side of it. "only you have the power to tell me what to do and how to live my life. remember that."

returning your form closer to his embrace, sylus holds you to his chest before slowly falling into a peaceful slumber, feeling all of his stress melt away the moment your warmth begins to surround him.

{ ... }

it was just a simple cut on his cheek-

but the way he kept pouting glaring at you made it seemed like he was in an excruciating amount of pain.

sylus was mad at you, remaining settled on the couch while refusing to look at you.

"if my blood drips on the couch, then it's your fault for not healing me."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes even further upon hearing his theatrics. "sylus, you and i both know that you can survive a simple gunshot wound to the chest. this cut is nothing in comparison, my love."

a plethora of grumpy sounds were heard coming from him, his arms now settled across his chest as a bitter scowl paints his expression. "and i told you i don't like abusing my powers. so are you going to help this heal or not?"

bullshit.

if that's the case, how on earth did you heal before i came into your life?

you wanted to call him out on his lie, you really did-

but seeing the soft (almost puppy dog look) in his eyes makes you stop. as you sift through your memories and think back to all the times you had helped sylus 'heal,' you had a sudden epiphany.

perhaps it wasn't the fact that you could help him heal him, but rather...

he liked the fact that you worried and constantly doted over him, since caring for him was an integral part of your love language.

with a wistful smile, you head back into your shared bedroom, taking out your first aid kit before returning to sylus. you sit directly beside him, gently taking a hold of his chin, revealing the thin cut on his defined cheek to you. with a q-tip in hand, you apply some of the antibacterial ointment on it before gently covering the slender line of blood with it. once it was completely covered, you choose a rather colorful band-aid decorated with blue penguins, settling it directly over the cut.

"there, better?" you set off the first aid kit to the side, ready to leave when sylus grips at your wrist.

"not quite, darling. you missed a step." his eyes were shining with mischief now, pointing directly at his 'injured cheek' now covered with a bandaid. "you know what to do."

letting out a feigned sound of annoyance, you lean in closer, pressing a kiss directly over where you had placed the bandaid as you felt him smiling against your lips. before you could move away from him, sylus ends up tackling your body against the couch, littering your face with obnoxious kisses as he elicits the sounds of joyous laughter from you.

{ ... }

by the end of his reveries, he was left smiling, heart filled with love for you as he slowly joins you in bed.

making sure that his movements were slow and steady, he manages to get into bed without disturbing you, taking you into his arms with a grin on his face.

sylus takes a minute to admire you once more, brushing back your hair while relishing in your natural beauty. "i can never get enough of you..." he admits in a hoarse tone, wondering just how lucky he was to be able to say that you were his; that you belonged to him alone.

filled with adoration for you, sylus allows himself to close his eyes, visibly relaxing in bed as he places your body on top of his chest. you stir for the briefest of moments, but end up smiling in your sleep, somehow knowing that you would always be loved and protected by him...

a.n. - lmao my current major / career goals has to deal with the medical field, so this was a very self-indulgent story for me to write (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[static-radio-ao3]

jegulus microfic // words: 1.5k // cw: drinking, implied sexual content

sometimes you just have to make out with a hot guy at a party and if that hot guy happens to be your best friend's brother, well...

James watches with laser focus as Regulus’ tongue slips from between his lips. He has a half-done cigarette in his fine-boned fingers and licks a long stripe along the length of the rolling paper.

Regulus rolls it up with practiced ease, making James' eye twitch, and he passes the cigarette off to Barty.

“Thanks, baby boy,” Barty says as he pushes himself off the too-low couch across the room and wanders to the open window so he can lean outside to smoke.

He flicks open his mildly offensive lighter and James nearly wishes Barty would take a little tumble, but his horniness hasn’t quite shifted into homicidal tendencies so he takes a steadying breath and tells himself to fucking relax.

His eyes shift back to Regulus, who is rolling a new cigarette, presumably for Evan. James wishes he could zoom in, just to get a closer look at how nimbly Regulus spreads the tobacco in the rolling paper.

“You know, you could at least pretend to listen to me,” Sirius complains with a shove to James’ shoulder. His beer nearly sloshes out of the bottle with the sudden movement.

“Sorry. I was,” James says. “Listening, I mean. Not pretending to. I got… distracted.”

“What on earth could be more important than me right now?” Sirius questions, shifting in his seat and pressing his cheek against James’ so he can follow his line of sight. His skin is soft and warm and the familiar scent of amberwood fills James’ nostrils.

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to realize what James was zeroed in on. “No,” he gasps, falling back into his seat with a betrayed gasp.

“I’m just—” James starts, but Sirius’ withering look silences him with ease.

“Just what?”

“Just looking!”

“Look elsewhere! Literally anyone else, I beg of you.”

“Remus,” James says immediately, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Sirius’ face falls minutely. “Okay, except for Remus.” His eyes shift off to the side, as if picturing something, and then he adds, “Although…”

“No,” James is quick to interrupt. He shoves Sirius’ face away for good measure, fingers damp with condensation from his glass beer bottle. “Nip that thought right in the bud.”

“Whose butt are we nipping?” Remus asks, because of course he chooses this very moment to reappear. He stands in front of them, hands on his hips and eyebrow cocked.

Sirius turns to face Remus, not unlike a flower to the sun or a moth to a flame.

“James is ogling my brother.” His tone is accusatory and petty, but his eyes are molten ice when he looks at Remus.

Remus leans in to press a quick kiss against Sirius’ waiting mouth and James also purses his lips in a mocking invitation, but Remus settles for flicking his forehead instead.

He surveys the seating arrangement and after a moment, he settles on the armrest of the couch. It’d be a tight fit with the three of them on there and the party is keeling on the wrong side of too hot. A smoky haze fills the room and the thumping bass makes the floor hum with every song.

“Ogling is a strong word,” James argues. “I think admiring is more accurate.”

“From a distance. A long, long distance. In fact,” Sirius says as he turns to face James again, “how about we move to another room?”

“Actually,” Remus says, “that’s precisely why I came here… Do you wanna…?” He lets the sentence trail off suggestively, fingers slipping into the ripped fabric of Sirius’ jeans. James watches as a barely-there shiver skitters its way up Sirius’ spine and his eyes flutter shut at the slight touch.

Sirius wastes no time shoving his full beer bottle into James’ hands while Remus gets up. Over Sirius’ shoulder, James mouths a silent thank you at Remus, who simply winks at him in return.

Sirius wiggles his fingers at Remus in a silent request to be pulled off the couch, but before they leave James to his thoughts, Sirius whirls on him again. “No funny business with my brother, okay?”

“None at all,” James swears as solemnly as he can. Hands full with Sirius’ discarded drink and his own, he settles for mentally crossing his fingers.

“All by your lonesome, Potter?” Regulus asks, dropping onto the couch with a quiet oof. James glances up just in time to see his best friends disappear around a corner.

His gaze settles on Regulus, on the dark shade of his shirt and how it brings out his eyes. And his collarbones.

James hums, not quite trusting his voice. He takes a sip of his beer for liquid courage and if it turns into more of a swig, well, who’s to say?

“Knocking ‘em back pretty fast, huh?”

“This one’s Sirius’. He disappeared with Remus to go do unspeakable things to each other’s bodies.”

“Might need to steal that from you just to get that image out of my head,” Regulus says, those nimble fingers James was eyeing earlier appearing in front of him and deftly plucking the bottle from James’ hand. “Thank you very much.”

“I do hate to suffer alone,” James says, tipping his own beer toward Regulus in a cheer.

“Can’t have that, can we?” And Regulus taps their bottles together.

The clink of the glass is drowned out by the loud music —something about releasing one’s inhibitions?— but James feels it down to his bones.

“Enjoying the party?” James asks, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. He brings the bottle to his lips again just to keep more stupid words from tumbling out, letting them fall into the drink instead.

“Come on, Potter, your game has to be better than that,” Regulus says, head lolling on the back of the couch lazily. His hair tousles with the movement, careless waves of inky black spilling across his forehead.

“What do you mean?” James asks, hands tightening around his drink to keep from doing something insane like reaching out and fixing Regulus’ hair.

“Everyone knows you never leave a party alone. No way people fall for that line.”

“It’s not a line.”

“No?” Regulus asks, sitting up straight again. “You genuinely want to know if I’m enjoying the party?”

James hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“Well, that’s disappointing.”

Regulus’ mouth, usually down-turned, tugs down even more. It would look like a pout if it weren’t for the fact that the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“You wanted me to use a line on you?” James asks.

This time, Regulus hums. Lifts his shoulders in a shrug. A wordless What can I say?

“This might surprise you, but I don’t need to use lines on people to get them to come home with me. Some people are into me, if you’ll believe it.”

Regulus’ face says that he does believe it. His mouth says, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on mine, then.”

James scoffs, turned on beyond belief and trying valiantly to drown it out. “Happy to.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

They’d inched together unknowingly until the space between them had shrunk to near-nonexistence. The world starts and ends in the breath between their faces, Regulus’ lips a focal point.

Instead of replying again, James catches Regulus’ mouth in a kiss, hot and heavy from the beginning. He blindly sets his drink aside and hopes that it doesn’t get knocked over. Then again, he has other things on his mind than potentially staining the carpet.

With both hands free, he is able to shift on the couch. One hand comes up to cradle the back of Regulus’ head while the other moves to his hip as if magnetic. He can’t help the thrill of excitement when he realizes his hand fits just right.

He faintly hears someone whoop but then Regulus’ hands shift from James’ back to the sides of his face. He gently knocks his glasses askew in the process, but that’s fine. James doesn’t need to be able to see to do this.

There is nothing else in the world but this. Them.

Eventually, Regulus’ hands end up in his hair, and he pulls James back with a mean fist.

“What?” James asks, punched out and breathless.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, just pushes James back against the couch and moves to straddle him. It takes James no time to get with the program, hands changing course to settle on Regulus’ thighs.

James isn’t sure how much time passes. All he’s sure of is the comforting weight of Regulus on his lap, the feel of Regulus’ tongue in his mouth, and the warmth of Regulus’ hands on his face.

The earth could explode and James is fairly sure he wouldn’t realize, too caught up in the heady path Regulus is tracking down the side of his neck.

A needy sound spills from his mouth, hands clenching on Regulus’ things, and Regulus is quick to meet him in another kiss.

“James!” Sirius’ voice filters into his ears from somewhere behind him a lifetime later and the sound of the party rushes back in pieces.

Music.

Chatter.

The crash of a vase toppling over.

“I told you, no funny business!” Sirius whines, reaching out to smack the back of James’ head, and James can’t help the way he bites into Regulus’ lip on impact.

With a disgruntled groan, Regulus pulls back. “We’re not laughing,” he says, lips pink and breath stolen.

Sirius’ reply is indignant, surely, but James can’t hear anything except for the sound of his heart thundering in his ears when Regulus leans in again to kiss him.

He’ll apologize in the morning.

Or not.

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part II

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand’s Sister!reader | WC: 2.3k

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

Being labeled as ‘tainted’ had a few perks.

The best perk was that no male in the camp wanted your hand in marriage nor sought you out in any way. They behaved as if you were diseased, avoiding you at all costs outside of the tavern you worked in. 

It worked well for you - even the most handsome of males and females in your village did nothing to make you feel any sort of attraction.

You had lived in your village for a century, the familiar homes and people doing little over that time to ever make you feel a part of the community. You had always considered leaving, but your village was rather progressive with allowing you to run the tavern the barkeep had left to you when he died a few years prior, and you knew you wouldn’t have nearly as good luck in any other village.

You had been working in this tavern for nearly seventy years when the previous owner died, leaving the entire place, including the apartment upstairs, to you. At first several of the males of the village had been upset before quickly realizing you would just refuse to serve them their only source of alcohol at any sign of tension.

You lived over the bar and most of your patrons were the males of your village, which allowed you little access to the females. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them - they all seemed fine, several were even friendly when you lived in a smaller shack. Some part of you found it incredibly difficult to connect with them, every attempt you made to develop friendships with them were quickly sabotaged by your own inability to follow up. 

You felt guilty every time you did it, but something inside of you rang out wrong, wrong, wrong. So between your lack of interest in being outside of your bar and the very close knit group of friends you had (approximately no one), not much really tethered you to this village.

You had heard rumors throughout the day from the other women that the High Lord had been snooping about the village. You hoped so - perhaps he could see first hand how little the armies beneath him respected him or his policies, how they sneered and called him a variety of names, their favorite being some variation of ‘wingless pointy eared bastard’. You weren’t sure why the nicknames bothered you so much - you had no attachment to the High Lord, nor had you ever met him nor had a desire to do so. 

It just gnawed on some part deep inside of you.

Thoughts of the High Lord quickly dissipated as you spent the afternoon pouring drinks and serving tables. The males of your village found you unmarriable and a potentially bad omen for females everywhere, but they did enjoy the alcohol you cured.

You’d take their money over their acceptance any day.

The door opened, the chill from outside coming in as you looked up briefly to find a beautiful male in the doorway, his pointy ears and violet eyes giving away his identity immediately.

You put down the glass you were drying, focused instead on the male who stood in the doorway, unmoving as he looked toward you. Something about his gaze felt so familiar - he looked at you with fondness and longing, and it was starting to upset you. You began turning to go back to the task at hand when a second male appeared from the High Lord.

He was taller, his eyes deep, rich hazel pools of warmth. He had some slight freckling across his strong Illyrian nose, some of them reaching down to the sharp jawline you were sure could cut paper. The male the High Lord brought was clearly Illyrian, his large frame making that abundantly clear. Yet he had these wisps of black shadow that circled him in a frenzy, leaving trails of smoke in their wake.

The sight of him knocked the air from your lungs - he was stunning, perhaps the most gorgeous male alive. His downturned eyes and long eyelashes gave him a perpetual look of sadness that just made you want to kiss the corners of his eyes.

You widened your eyes at the thought, where did that come from?

You bowed slightly towards Rhysand, the movement spurring him into movement away from the door. It was not a deep bow, but just enough for it to count. The High Lord made a slight face, one you couldn’t discern. Shock at such a display of nonchalance in his elegant presence, you presumed.

“High Lord.”

You moved around the bar, walking toward them. You really didn’t have time to cater toward him and the male with him. You weren’t even sure what the two of them were doing so far out in Illyria. The tavern was full of patrons, all looking toward the two males who just entered. You felt their gazes on your back making your scars tingle.

“Do you have a table you’d prefer us to be at?”

The High Lord’s voice was soft, his eyes unmoving from you as he asked. His question caught you off guard, making you eye him suspiciously. Why was he speaking to you like this? The males of your village often completely disregarded any preferences you might have, and they were absolutely unnoteworthy in the grand scheme of things.

Why was the High Lord addressing you at all?

You eyed him warily before you pulled out a chair from the table in front of you, the wood scraping the floor. You tapped your nails on the top of the table before moving away to tend to your other patrons, all of whom had their gazes fixed on the High Lord and his companion, several of them openly sneering at the pair.

You really, really didn’t want a brawl to break out in your pub. 

You tended to the other tables, your feet swift across the stone floor as you tried to ensure even the most unpleasant of males was content with your service. The whole night your eyes never strayed too far from the High Lord and his companion. Their eyes never strayed from you either, their gazes were piercing as you flitted about, feeling their eyes with every movement.

You got back to their table, and you hadn’t been able to really look at the High Lord’s companion until you faced him. He was sitting down, his long legs closed and tight beneath the table, as if he were incapable of allowing himself to linger for too long. Sitting down made him look even more massive - he was nearly as tall as you are in the chair.

His wings were massive behind his back, the black leathery skin seemingly connected to his shoulders with the way the wispy black shadows that followed him curled on his skin. They looked antsy, an occasional wisp darting a few inches away before being pulled as if some invisible leash were keeping them back.

But him. Your heart stopped at how beautiful he was up close - his hazel eyes betrayed nothing, but golden flecks inside of them sang to you, desperate for you to keep looking at them. Your gaze flickered down to his hands, and your breath got caught in your throat at the deeply scarred tissue. 

The male flexed his hands before hiding them beneath the table, his eyes still on you. 

Despite their disappearance, you couldn’t help but continue to look at where they had been, the sight of them floating around in your mind, the image burning inside of you. You cleared your throat, looking between them. “Can I get either of you some wine?”

The High Lord looked to his companion before nodding his head, the silent male doing the same before you turned around, heading back to the bar. You hadn’t heard or seen them speak to each other, but you’ve seen them staring at each other this whole time, lost in thought. Their faces gave nothing away, but perhaps the High Lord had an additional consort to the High Lady. The male was quite pretty, despite his inability to speak or look anything other than strained.

You headed behind the bar, popping the cork on a fresh bottle of wine. Pouring two glasses, you dropped them off before tending to your other patrons. The night went by in a blur - several males gathered at different tables, hunched together, voices low. Everyone in the tavern spent the evening paying attention to the High Lord and the male with him, discretion be damned, but no one approached either of them. 

They sat silently at their table all night, making their way slowly through the one glass of wine you poured. The night moved on, patrons of the tavern making their way to the door, each one stopping to gawk at the High Lord. You came back from the store room to watch the door close behind the last of your patrons, save for the High Lord’s party of two.

He pulled another chair out and brought it to their table, leaving space for you to sit before he tapped his own nails against the wood. You watched his violet eyes assess you at his invitation - the way you stood there, eyes moving in uncertainty until finally you dropped your rag at the bar, taking the seat he offered. He looked at you, something twinkling in his violet eyes. 

“I’m Rhys, this is Azriel.”

The High Lord pointed to himself before nodding towards the male who made no movement at the acknowledgement. His arms were crossed over his chest, eyes almost squinting in assessment, as if he tried hard enough, he could see right through you.

“We wanted to speak with you privately.”

His voice wavered just slightly - he seemed confident, but every time he spoke to you, he had to suck in a breath as if preparing himself.

“What does this pertain to?”

Rhys took a deep breath, his eyes trained on yours. “I will cut this short. We know you are an empath.”

Your heart stopped in your chest. It became hard to control your face, but you tried to remain neutral. He kept speaking, but the words all muddied together, your brain unable to pick up the different syllables and words. Your eyes briefly roamed over the bar again, ensuring no one was still in the building. When you looked back, Azriel had been tracking your eye movement.

“I am unfamiliar with what you speak of, I don’t know what an empath is.”

His violet eyes were so much like your own as his gaze pierced into yours. His face adopted a sense of familiarity as he looked at you. “We both know that’s bullshit.” He sighed, taking another sip from his glass. Azriel still hadn’t spoken, but his eyes never left you, tracking all of your movements. Your ears roared, uncertain how they had known you were an empath and what they were going to do to you now that they knew. You surveyed the room, trying to get a sense of anything you could use against them to get to the door.

Would the males of your village help if you were able to make it outside? Would they stand up to your High Lord? Or would they leave you, the tainted goods that you were?

You stiffened, your jaw going rigid as you quickly assessed your options. You schooled your features, looking toward the High Lord in challenge. He merely shrugged before scooting his chair back, the wood making a high pitched noise as it rubbed against the floor beneath. “Fine, if you wish to pretend you do not possess such powers, we will be going.”

You almost missed how wide Azriel’s eyes went, back to their normal size in the blink of an eye. A trick of the light, perhaps. The two stood, Rhys nodding to you before turning, Azriel lingering behind in contemplation. He looked at you as if he might say something, his first words of the night. Your voice stopped him before he could, your eyes looking back to the High Lord. 

“Why are you looking for an empath?”

The High Lord turned back to you, his mouth slightly quirked in amusement. A predator assessing their prey. And you had put yourself directly in the predator’s path. 

“We wanted to help train an empath, keep them safe while we help them develop their powers.” 

He took a few steps toward you again, now standing next to Azriel. The silent male just watched the exchange as if he were taking notes.

You cleared your throat. “What would such training entail?”

“Daily training with the High Lady. Practicing techniques. Learning the scope of these powers. It would be difficult, tiring work, as no one has seen an empath for a very, very long time.”

His voice got softer by the end, a melancholic lilt to it. 

“And in return?”

“In return, I sleep soundly knowing one of my enemies did not get an empath in their ranks. And that a wingless female has some control over her powers.”

There it was.

He choked briefly on the word. Wingless. 

The word came from his mouth like venom, Azriel visibly flinching in the wake of it. You had kept your eyes on Azriel since the motion, your eyes moving over his icy exterior, taking in every part of him. His body screamed hypervigilance, his muscles not even twitching in your presence until Rhys had said it.

But his eyes screamed with need. They were practically hypnotic the way they called to you. Something about them felt so familiar, the brown ring around his iris melting into green, strokes of warm gold bridging the gap in color. They were beautiful eyes. Something stirred in you at them - a deep sadness, an impossible weight in your chest leaving you stranded.

But buried somewhere amidst the grief and despair in his eyes laid a small drop of hope that was so strong it nearly consumed you.

Perhaps that is why you agreed to go with them. 

A hope induced decision.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites

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Series taglist: @doodlebugg16-blog @ceoofyearning @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @willowpains @anarchiii

Thanks for reading ❣️

[lxfinty]

┊𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

xavier thorpe ; wednesday

pairing: jealous!xavier thorpe x bestfriend!fem!reader 

warnings: light hearted, extremely cheesy & overplayed crush confession, miscommunication trope at it’s finest (let’s be honest, xavier is somehow great at both communicating and not talking at all), light swearing

request: n/a

summary:  after telling him that you were asked to the dance at your school in jericho, xavier gets all butthurt.

a/n: I think this takes place after the whole monster situation, but he doesn’t like wednesday. also, don’t ask how wednesday, xavier, and y/n interact/are connected in all of this, idk either...

character credit: wednesday series

w/c: 1.2k

“I don’t even understand why you're being all grumpy right now,” you sigh as you trail behind your bestfriend. 

You’re just leaving the Weathervane café and following Xavier towards the woods, meaning you’re probably heading to his little art shack. Everything was going as it usually does – you guys laughing and catching up over your separate drinks – when he suddenly got really quiet and wanted to leave.

“Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence anymore, seeming to be in his own head right now.

You glance at his back, his usually tall stature now hunched in on itself. He keeps running his hand through his hair as it falls in his face, which is when you notice that he’s missing the black hair tie that usually sits on his wrist.

Putting a little pep in your step to get beside him, you hold out your own wrist. Upon it lays a hair tie; the same black type that he usually keeps for himself. You started carrying them after noticing how often he sets them down beside him, only to forget doing so and abandoning them altogether.

He halts his movements before glancing at the band adorning your wrist. He stares at it for a few seconds before his gaze trails up at your face, where he stares at you for a few more. 

You guys are always comfortable around each other, you’ve been friends for a while now, so eye contact is not something you struggle with…but there was something different about the way he is currently looking at you. Like he’s analyzing you. Studying you. Looking past what lays upon your expression and trying to survey your thoughts.

You try to hold his stare, but after a bit your face starts to heat up and the moment feels way too intense, so you divert your gaze to your shoes, the tips almost touching the tips of his own.

You hear the soft sigh fall from his lips before you see his retreating steps. After a few seconds, you fall back in line, trailing behind him once again.

–

After a few more silent minutes, you reach his art studio. He opens the door for you, though still not looking at you directly, before walking in himself. He immediately finds his closest pencil and sketchbook, making little to no sounds as he sits at his desk and begins scribbling away.

You sit on the stool that accompanies a large painting canvas and watch as he frustratingly works the pencil into the paper, smudging lead with his fingers in an unrecognizable design.

After a while, the silence is almost too much to bear.

“Seriously Xavier, what is wrong with you?”

“Everything apparently,” he said abruptly while slamming down his pencil on the multi-color covered table top, “enough to not even be an option anymore.”

You squint at him, completely distraught by his sudden outburst.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” 

Completely lost about where this attitude even came from, you run back the conversation you were having back at Weathervane: your wellbeing, school, an upcoming dance, the guy who asked you to said upcoming dance…

Bingo.

“Are you mad about me getting asked to a school dance?” You questioned, a hint of accusation to your voice. 

“Yes, okay! I’m mad you got asked to your little dance at normie school!” Xavier exclaimed, standing up and looking down at you. 

It takes all but two seconds before you're standing as well, mixed emotions of confusion and anger boiling inside you.

“Why would you be fucking upset! If anything you should be happy that your best friend is actually liked by someone for once.” You said in an exasperated tone. Why would your closest friend be upset about you finally getting attention from someone…unless he thinks you don’t deserve it.

“Well I’m not fucking happy.” He says while looking you straight in the eyes before sitting back in his chair, placing his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“Why not?” At this point, anything he said would probably end with you in tears, your heart broken, or both.

“Because I wanted to take you,” he says in a soft voice before running both hands through his hair and turning to face you. “Because I want to take you,” he reiterates. 

You gape at him, eyes and lips slightly widened as you find the words to say. 

To be honest, you have had feelings for Xavier for a while. When you first saw him, you thought he was an attractive guy. His long hair compliments his face so well, who wouldn’t? But it wasn’t until you started connecting that your feelings for him truly blossomed. You loved his artsy side, he was always surprising you with drawings and paintings he made of you, alongside ones he made simply to impress you with his “bring drawings to life” ability. He was always there to cheer you up if something was upsetting you at school, and he would constantly call or text you to see how you’re doing.

After all that gaping, the only thing you could think to say was “why would you want to do that?”

He gave a small chuckle-ish sigh before replying, “have I not been obvious, because I swear everyone else could see how much I like you except you.”

Thinking back at it now, yeah the man was super obvious, but that doesn’t mean you actually believe it..

“Seriously, Y/N. I know I’m being super obvious in my flirting tactics, but that’s just because I think you like me back. I mean obviously not if you’re going to a dance with someone else, but I-”

“Who said I’m going with somebody else?” You cut him off mid rant.

“The guy-.”

“If you would’ve actually let me finish my story instead of getting all jealous and gloomy, you would have heard me say that I didn’t even say yes.” You look at him with a slight smirk. “Matter of fact, I don’t think I even like anyone fro-”

“I knew it.”

“From my school. Xavier you seriously need to let a girl finish her storytimes,” you shake your head and softly laugh before looking back up at him.

The smile you’ve come to adore is finally resting upon his face once again.

“So…you want to take me to the dance,” you tease.

“I do,” he says as if it’s a simple fact.

“Are you gonna ask or…? Because I’ve got other options to weigh if this is gonna take all da-.”

He rushes towards you and envelopes you in a hug, though this one feels different than the ones you usually share.

“Would you allow me the great honor of taking you to your normie school dance?” He finishes as he sets you back upright and grazes his thumb over your cheek.

“I would love to go,” you smile up at him, leaning into his touch slightly.

“With me though, right? The other dudes are completely out of the picture?”

“Only with you,” you giggle at his playful antics. “Just you.”

Completely ignoring the story, I am currently obsessed with Xavier Thorpe and my close friends list on Instagram has been suffering with edits for days.

I no longer support Percy Hynes White and will no longer take request for Xavier Thorpe.

[azrielsdove]

Softly: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smuttttt, 18+. This is just a short, smutty fic for my az babies out there <3

***

You hadn’t been around many Illyrians before. You remember the first time you saw Azriel, how wide your eyes had gotten at the sight of the large wings behind him. You had never seen anything like that, anything so dangerously beautiful.

You had been shelving books in your little shop when he had come in. You had turned with a wide smile to greet your new customer, faltering as you took him in. Everything about him was big. You had trailed your eyes over his body before remembering your role here. You cleared your throat and put the smile back on, asking “How can I help you today?” He seemed to have not noticed your reaction to him, or was pretending he didn’t notice.

“I’m looking for a specific book, I was told you may have it here?” Azriel had responded, pulling out a piece of paper with a title and author. You had nodded and disappeared to find it for him. When you brought it back, he had given you a thankful smile and left rather quickly after.

You wanted to see him again.

Much to your pleasant surprise, Azriel began frequenting your little bookstore. You didn’t have too much traffic and sometimes he’d stay for hours talking to you. You started to consider him one of your dearest friends, looking forward to seeing his shadows enter your business.

As time went on your feelings grew for the Shadowsinger. You felt called to him. You started to need to see him, getting anxious whenever it had been a few days since his last visit. You only hoped Azriel hadn’t noticed your change towards him. You knew he would never feel the same way.

Years had gone by since your first meeting, and Az still visited you at least once a week, often more. He had started coming closer to close, helping you lock up and walk you home. You would invite him in occasionally, the two of you staying up late talking and drinking. Those were your favorite nights.

It was a night much like that when everything changed.

You admit you had a bit too much wine to drink that night, but it had been a particularly stressful week with your shop. A sudden increase in clientele had been excellent for your business in theory, yet in practice you weren’t prepared for all the new customers. You had struggled to keep stock, having to turn away many disappointed and angry faeries. Tonight you just wanted to drink and forget about all those problems.

You laughed as Azriel told you a story about his brother Cassian, tipping back more wine. You were probably sitting a bit too close to him on the sofa, but he didn’t seem to mind. You watched the way his eyes lit up as he spoke of his brothers, the way color tinted his cheeks when he revealed something embarrassing. You saw the way his shadows would swirl excitedly when he talked about something dangerous, and you loved the way his wings fluttered with them.

Oh, those wings.

They were one of your favorite parts of Azriel. You loved the way they would catch the sun, brown and red light shining through. You loved the way they reacted to his emotions, how you could tell what he was feeling that day depending on his wings. You loved how they hung strong on his back, giving him that deadly appearance.

You wanted to lick them.

You didn’t think as you reached a hand out and lightly stroked the edge of the wing closest to you. You didn’t even realize what you had done until you noticed Azriel go rigid, his story ending abruptly. You straightened up immediately, your cheeks going red. “Oh, Az I-i’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that without even asking. Did I hurt you?” You asked, embarrassed at your actions. He shook his head, refusing to look at you. “I don’t know anything about Illyrians. Was that rude? Oh I am so sorry!” You rushed out, feeling hot tears of humiliation fill your eyes.

Azriel quickly looked at you when he heard the break in your voice, spotting your tears as they spilled out of your eyes. “Hey, no, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” He said comfortingly, reaching over to brush your tears away. You ducked your head, focusing on your glass of wine.

“They’re just beautiful.” You whispered. “I wanted to know what they felt like.” You slowly looked up to him, asking; “Can I touch them again?” Azriels eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally he nodded, saying; “Softly.” You broke into a giddy smile and set your wine glass down on the table. You carefully reached your hand out, stroking the wing in the same spot. You let your fingers brush over their softness, wanting to feel every inch of them.

You were so caught up in memorizing the feel of Azriels wings against your fingers that you didn’t notice the way his hand gripped the armrest of your sofa. You rubbed down a particularly sensitive spot on his wings, stilling your motions as you heard him let out a heated groan. You looked into his eyes, shocked to see them blown wide with lust. “Az?” You asked curiously, confused as to what was happening.

“Do you know what touching an Illyrians wings feels like for us?” He asked, voice deep. You shook your head as you removed your fingers from him, wondering if you had hurt him in some way. He turned to you, leaning close. Your body was caged under Azriels, your heart going a million beats a minute. “It feels like this.” He spoke lowly, running his fingers over your neck. You gasped at his touch, heat flowing through your body. He seemed to enjoy your reaction, a small smile coming onto his face.

You had imagined a situation like this so many times before, so many nights with your hand between your thighs. Nothing compared to having Azriels hands on you, and all he had done was touch your neck. You were fucked.

You felt like he could read your mind as his smile widened and he leaned down to press a light kiss to the place his fingers had just moved from. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. “I’ve wanted to touch you for years now.” He whispered over your skin, one hand falling to press your hip down into the couch. You gave a soft moan at his words, desire ripping through your body. You didn’t think twice before you reached up and ran your fingers over his wings again.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.” You breathed out, his hand tightening on your hip. Azriel wrapped his other hand around your throat, forcing your eyes to look into his.

“Do it again.” He ground out, a low moan ripping through him as you ran your fingers down the ridges again. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He said before sliding his lips over yours.

The kiss was passionate, needy, searing. It was everything you wanted and more. You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, the other running down his wings again and again. You gasped when he ground down into you, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You. Were. Fucked.

The hand on your hip slid under your waistband, finding you over your underwear. He chuckled darkly against your mouth when he felt the wetness seeping through. “All for me?” He asked, kissing you harder. Azriel slipped his fingers under the delicate lace, running them up and down, teasing you.

“Az,” you moaned out, pushing your hips into his touch. He pulled away and smiled down at you, enjoying the lust all over your face.

“What do you say, my needy girl?” His voice was hot, dangerous. You were going to explode if he didn’t touch you.

“Please, Az,” You breathed, his fingers toying with you. “Please touch me.”

At those words his fingers plunged into you, your back arching off the couch as you threw your head back. Fuck. The hand on your throat angled your head back to look at him, a smirk on his face. “Now now, I want to look at those pretty eyes when I make you cum.”

Oh gods. Oh gods. You were done for. You were done for. Azriel moved the palm of his hand so it was rubbing against you, heightened the pleasure you were feeling. You couldn’t help as moan after moan spilled from your lips, the coil tightening in your stomach. You were so close, so close.

Azriel flicked his fingers inside of you once more and you came with a scream, shaking under him. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” He murmured, kissing your neck, your ears, your face as his fingers helped you through your high. He stopped once you let out a cry of overstimulation, pulling his fingers out of you before popping them in his mouth.

Fucking. Hell.

“Az, if you don’t fuck me right this second i’m going to lose my mind.” You said, your words dripping with desire. His eyes darkened as he leaned over you, the hand on your throat tightening.

“I don’t believe you give out the commands here,” was all he said before attacking your lips with his again. Your hands were all over him, on his chest, on his wings, desperately undoing his pants. You slid him out once you got the ties undone, groaning at the thick length in your hand.

“Az,” you moaned again, pressing your hips into his. “Please.”

“Please what?” He teased, dragging his tip through your folds. You grabbed his head and pulled him down to you, kissing him with as much desire as you could muster.

“Fuck me.” You whispered against his lips, a cry coming from you a second later as he began to push in. Gods, he was so big.

“That’s it, that’s it. You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He moaned as he sunk down into you, inch by inch. Once he bottomed out he took a moment for both of you to catch your breath.

You raised your hand, running a finger down his wings again. “Please move, Azriel.” You gasped out, feeling his body push into yours at your touch.

“As you wish.” He answered, pulling out before thrusting all the way back in. You couldn’t help the scream that tore from you. You dug your nails into his back, your other hand still playing with his wing. He began biting and sucking on your neck, relishing the moans you were giving him. “I won’t last much longer if you keep doing that.” He ground out as you ran your fingers down his wings again.

“Good. I want you to cum in me.” You breathed against his skin, a particularly strong bite settling on your neck as he took in your words. Az picked up speed, hand sliding between your legs to circle you. You began moaning his name like a prayer, unable to think anything else. He brought your eyes down to look at his again, fucking you through another orgasm. You scratched your nails on his wing and he came a second after you, spilling into you with a roar.

You both laid there for a few minutes, breathing heavily and processing what you just did. You began to worry that he was going to regret it, that it was a drunken mistake, that he was never going to want to see you again. Azriel pulled out of you slowly, watching as his cum dripped from you.

“I don’t know if I can go without seeing this everyday for the rest of my life.” He said, voice deadly serious. Your eyes widened at his words, your heart soaring. You rose to your knees, pressing your hands to his chest as you lightly kissed him.

“Then make me yours, Shadowsinger.” You said against his lips, a smile breaking out on his face. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back down on the couch, kissing all over your face.

“You’re already mine.”

***

This was just a short little thing to breakup the angsty ones i’ve been writing! I needed something a little easy haha. Please give me all your feedback! My requests are open as well if theres anything you guys want specifically <3

[zmbiesuga]

TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader

sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?

warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty

notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so

"I'm not wearin' 'em."

"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"

Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.

It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.

Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:

"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."

You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.

After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.

"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.

"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"

Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.

"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."

And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.

"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."

Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.

"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"

"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."

Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.

"What was that?" you ask.

"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."

"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"

"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."

You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."

Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.

It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...

You.

The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.

You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"

"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."

[just-some-random-blogger]

i was reading your fics, and was reading one where daemon is going up against cregan a little bit. i got this idea, cregan giving the reader a direwolf puppy as a gift. daemon makes a snide comment about it and cregan just turns to him, telling him that your enjoying your new pet, and who knows, maybe one day cregan will give you puppies.

daemon seethes as cregan walks away, acting as if he didn't just imply he was gonna breed you.

Puppy Love

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: Ever since you came of age, you became the jewel of the court and your father turned down proposal after proposal, knowing if the man didn't want your massive dowry, they wanted to claim and corrupt your beauty and kind nature. And the only reason why your father hasn't chewed up the all too friendly dragon prince, was because he was doing most of his job for him. And anyway, your father knew you were too kind to think his attentions to you were anything more than friendly.

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, 'too kind' reader, jealous!daemon, smitten!cregan, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: first of all, i have written quite a few fics were I've added cregan as uh an opponent for daemon so HAHHAH im not sure which one you mean, though I have an inkling it's Wish I Was Her (this is not a p2 of this btw) second of all, /: cregan dumb for giving away a direwolf to some rando dafaq. third of all, i really want do a take on a 'traditionally feminine reader' since i normally dont do that lol so im tryna make reader fit the period more, without making her a damsel in distress. wish me luck Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony

You straighten the brown paper in one hand while you fiddle with the wax seal that was on it moments ago. You snort through your nostrils, beaming at the ink on the the letter, eager to both reach the end of the page, and not wanting the words to end at all.

Daemon, who had been walking with purpose, forgets where he was going along the way when he spots you. You, the giggling lady, sat comfortably on the stone blocks that separated the garden and the hall.

The prince's stoic demeanor melts into an expression similar to yours when you smile at what you were reading. What were you reading? A letter? A letter from-

Quickly, the realization of what kind of letters a lady such as yourself would be receiving that would cause you to giggle like that makes his expression splat into annoyance.

With twice as much purpose, he struts over to you and calls out your name. You immediately avert your gaze, smile widening at the sight of him.

Good.

"My prince," you speak, bowing your head just as Daemon reaches you.

Daemon raises his brows and drops his lips, eyeing the paper in your hand, "a good read?"

You release a chuckle at the expression he pulls, "a very good read. I say Alaric is as good with the quill as he," you point to the paper, "harks to me how good he is with the blade."

He grunts, "Alaric." Where has he heard that tatty name before?

You chuckle as you watch Daemon stiffen. He places his hands behind him, slowly walking to the other side of the block you were sat on, sitting there across you, "which moronic suitor is he again?"

You drop your letter on your lap, tilting your head at the fuming prince, who now had his arms crossed. "Alaric," you start with a chuckle, "is my darling cousin, Anna's, son."

Ahh, Daemon blinks, that's why his name is familiar.

You snort, "he has merely just turned ten and one, your grace."

He clears his throat.

"Do you not recall rejecting my offer to attend the boy's nameday?" you speak through an amused grin.

"I've never cared for namedays," he trails off, crossing his arms.

You laugh. He turns to you because of it. How could he not when your laugh was like that? Your being beams in amusement, glowing like a star. It makes the prince emit a soft chuckle.

"If I didn't know any better," you say in between catching your breath, "I'd you were jealous of a child, my prince."

You catch the small smile on Daemon's face as he pretends to be offended, "and I'd say you've been reading too much."

Very suddenly, you gasp and point at him, making him pull his head back and his expression drop. His concern drops when you say, "is that a blush I see? Ooh!"

Daemon's arms loosen at your words. As if eager to make your words true, he begins to feel his body burn. Damn body.

You gasp the second time before throwing your head back in laughter, "I do say," you sigh, "scarlet suits you well."

Daemon rolls his eyes and shakes his head as he stands from his spot.

"Well, I mean, it is one of the colors of your house."

"Yes," he drops his hands to the side and walks over to you, "and I should well ought to make it your own."

And though Daemon smirks when he says this, your brows furrow at the thought. His vanilla baby.

"It would be pointless to try and convince my father to change anything about our house."

He sighs as you refold your paper, trapping a waxen seal in its center, and move to stand next to him, "in our actual house, I had to argue with him to change our drapes."

"No," Daemon says in shock, as if he actually cared.

"Yes!" you shake your head, "it was terrible! I had to remind him that I was now the woman of the house."

"Oh, that does sound terrible," Daemon huffs, eyes widening. He watches you as you believe in his empathy. He watches as you smile at his disingenuous words. Two beasts rip at him from within.

Normally, naïveté and slow-wittedness were traits that repelled him, especially in its womanly form, as it was drawn from the sheltered nature ladies like yourself were bred into. The dragon in him found this dull and all too conforming. He liked the burn from the whores, who would snarl if you took more than what you paid for.

Yet this personal brand of innocent on you was dizzying to him. One beast wanted to protect the purity within you, while the other wanted to taint it until all remained was him.

"And yes-" you take a moment to continue, "those were my mother's beloved drapes but... they had not been changed since her passing."

Daemon presses his lips together when you turn to the ground with a solemn expression. He does not get a moment to share the semblance of comfort in which he was capable of, because you quickly smile at him the way you always do and comfort yourself, "it is good to remember those who have passed, but they would not want for us to mourn them too long."

For once, he responds with honesty, "they would not, no."

The moment you smile at his words, your attention is taken from the prince.

You are called by a servant, who tells you there is a man waiting for you in the main hall. You courteously thank the servant and turn to Daemon, "thank you for ke-"

"I will escort you to your visitor," Daemon smiles, though not a real one.

You return a genuine one nevertheless, "I am grateful, but I do not wish to bother you, nor take up more of the time you already so graciously offered me."

Daemon takes your hand and pulls you near him with little regard, "you dare dictate what I do and do not with my time?"

You press your lips as you body collides with him.

"As though you were my wife?"

You clench your jaw, unintending to overstep, "my prince, I did not mean for it-"

"Yes, well," he cuts you off, "let us meet this moron who wishes to meet you."

"You know," you smile, "it may well not be a suitor."

Daemon chuckles, "I'm surprised you even caught onto that."

"Well, how could I not?" you chuckle, "when you were just jealous a child!"

He loses his smug expression. He scoffs into a chuckle as you laugh at him. "Oh very good," Daemon rolls his eyes and slowly claps his hand, "I'll give you credit. I did not expect that."

But what he very much did expect was that your audience was sought by a suitor; one large, slobbering dog of a suitor.

Very truly, Daemon's grumbling was merited, for why were you so enamored by the wolf-man and this overgrown rat-pup he bought with him?

He scoffs as you coo at the furry creature for the hundredth time, and for what? For doing absolutely nothing but expose its incompetence to walk in a fucking straight line?

And what's more, for every time the degenerate baby wolf toppled over, you tugged at its master's arm and pointed, leaning into him as you laughed and expressed jovial sentiments over the creature.

The prince rolls his eyes from the armchair he was sat on.

What was so impressive about a dog? There were dozens of strays outside the walls. He could get you twenty right now. A dragon egg should have elicited such a response from you, not this.

"Oh, dear Cregan-"

Gods, dear Cregan, she says.

"-your pup is a ray of sunshine on this chilly day," you speak.

Daemon watches you smile angelically at the large man with muddy dark hair and wiry curls. He watches as the cretin bares his teeth at you like a wolf does its prey, and you mistake it for genuinely, as always.

"If you are cold, my lady," Cregan says, removing the brown pelt on his shoulders, "then allow me to warm you."

Daemon straightens where he was slouched.

You recoil at Cregan's generosity, raising your hands as you shake them, "oh, my lord, I could not possibly accept the clothes on your back."

You watch as Cregan's rosy cheeks pull up with his smile, "then would you prefer I give you one your own?"

Cregan put on his fur again. You open your mouth to speak, but it is Daemon's voice that sounds, "she would rather you fuck off back to the North, dog."

You still at Daemon's words, promptly turning to him with a hardened expression of disbelief, "my prince-"

"And you best take your defective animal with you," he adds, grimacing at the wolf-pup chewing at a ball of wound fabric.

"Prince Daemon," you call tersely.

Daemon turns to you, expression unable to melt with the presence of that oaf on your side.

"Please do not speak for me as though your sentiments and mine own are one and the same," you calmly say.

Daemon scoffs. Cregan chuckles.

You turn to Cregan with a guilty expression, "I apologize on the behalf of ill-contrived words against you, Lord Cregan."

"No, you don't," Daemon quips as he stands, "don't fucking-"

"I appreciate your sentiment, my lady," Cregan ignores the whimpers of the lizard prince, "though you needn't worry yourself, for I am not wounded by words from the likes of him."

"The likes of me?" Daemon sneers as he storms over.

You turn to Daemon, suddenly at your side. Your eyes widen at the fury on his features. You hands instinctively come to his arm when he appears as though he is about to lunge at Cregan.

Cregan watches you do this, watches you calm the hot blooded fiend. Part of him burns in a shade green at your shared familiarity, but he is more amused by the fact you turn to him with a concerned look, nonverbally expressing your concerns that you, in fact, to not want him to pound your prince if he attempts anything. And so he laughs.

Cregan laughs and takes a step back, allowing you to step between them and push Daemon away in return.

Daemon's ire is fueled further, "what, you halfbreed?!"

You grunt as you turn back to Cregan, relieved he was smiling and not partaking in the hotheadedness the other man was.

"Did you fuck your wolf yourself to offer the pup to her?"

You recoil at the grotesque notion. You cannot stop yourself from calling out the prince's name in anger and bewilderment, "Daemon!"

Cregan laughs. It draws your attention. You sigh, "Cregan, I beg your par-"

"No!" Daemon barks, peering down at you, "he's come here on the intent of you bearing his pups, girl, and you'd so readily drop on your knees for him?!"

"He's brought one pup, Daemon!" you quip pulling away from him as you shake your head, "and I have no intentions of keeping the little wolf," you turn to Cregan, "for I have no such capabilities nor capacities to care for one!"

Daemon grinds his teeth. You heave.

Good enough.

The prince finds slight catharsis in your words. His anger does not fade however, because Cregan's grin is as wide as ever.

"Actually," Cregan raises his hands casually, "I have spoken to your father about the pup and he said he would accept it, for I am also giving you one of my servants as an aid."

The two men watch as you perk at the idea.

"Oh!," you gasp in disbelief, "so..." you break into a wide smile, "I can keep the wolf?!"

Cregan laughs as he nods, "and even better, you can name it."

Daemon is appalled by your next actions.

You run and throw yourself onto Cregan, sealing him into a hug for a moment before pulling back in realization your actions were most indecent.

Cregan however prevents you from pulling away too far, hands coming to your waist as he smiles down at you. He speaks with a lopsided grin, "I have been meaning to bring you the pup ever since we spoke about my pregnant wolf when you visited me in the North."

When you what?

"Will your dear Luna not mourn the loss of her puppy?"

LUNA?

Cregan chuckles, pulling his hands away from you, not because he wanted to, but because, between the two of them, he was currently the more amicable in your eyes, and he was not about to ruin that, "I assure you, she will fair fine, as she is preoccupied with three more at home."

You frown, stepping back from Cregan to turn to the pup, not at all seeing the twitching face of your prince, "still... I must not let him be forgotten by her mother and likewise."

Cregan smiles at the sentiment, "you have a kind heart, my lady," he takes your hand, "I would be glad to bring my wolves to your home whenever you want."

You are horrified by the notion, "oh please, it would be much better if I came to you."

Cregan nods, lips in a smirk, "I shall await then."

You seemed to be caught off-guard by the fact you unwittingly just made plans with the Stark.

And you had meant to explain you could not simply agree to his offer, but you were distracted by the string of High Valyrian being spewed into the air, paired by the loud sound of the prince marching out of the room.

[tired-biscuit]

Fwb with yuuji who has always been your pretty sunshine kind gentle best friend. You expect the same care and silliness as he fucks you into the mattress and boy do you get it. But you also get incredibly skillful hands, lithe rough fingers curving perfectly inside you, unexpected bites in the curve of your shoulder, some mumbling about how pretty you look with his marks all over. You've never seen him like this, so beautiful and wet and flushed and high on you

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

divider credits: @/benkeibear

i think he goes out for a couple of drinks with some of his mates and then shows up at your doorstep, visibly tipsy and with that insufferably pretty smile on his face that immediately persuades you to invite him in.

despite being under the influence of alcohol, he’s still respectful. he places his sneakers next to your own as neatly as he’s able after he kicks them off in the hallway and watches you with blurry eyes as you step in front of him to unzip his winter jacket.

he snickers — boyishly so — when your hands touch his shoulders so that you can undress him, and doesn’t really provide a reason as to why he’s wound up at your place in the middle of the night. always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he just tells you that he’s missed his girl, that’s all.

his cheeks are flushed pink as he calls you his. if it’s from the booze or from the chill outside, you’re unsure. so when you reach out to touch his face, he perks up and leans into it instead; kind of like a little kitty cat would rub against the hand of its owner.

he kisses the inside of your palm. your wrist. he’s so touchy when he’s buzzed and your skin smells nice, he notes, kind of like you’ve just showered. is that the reason why your hair is damp and you’ve got nothing else on but one of his t-shirts that you stole from him years ago; back when things weren’t as complicated between you and you were just friends, minus the benefits? probably.

you lean into him when his cold lips touch your skin, on instinct or because your heart tells you to do so — maybe both. he’s cold because the winter outside is harsh at this time of year, and because he had to stand in line to get you the pastry you like from the 24/7 bakery across the street, but now he’s growing warm fast, all over actually.

oh shit, the pastry!

“i got you a lil’ something,” he mumbles, speech slurred and easy-going as he’s reaching for his jacket so that he can rummage for the paper bag he’s about 85% percent sure he’d stuffed in his pocket after leaving the bakery.

however before he can, you’re on him. you kiss him gently out of gratitude for coming over not just for sex and because of the plain affection you hold for him, but he doesn’t expect it, so his back ends up pressing against the door with a soft thud.

they’re slow, the kisses. every minute of it feels like a millennium and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your tongue glides across his front teeth in that laggard way that heats his blood to higher temperatures, urging him to open his mouth wider. so he does, letting you taste the liquor.

it’s bitter but also kind of sweet — he must have taken a bite out of that ‘little something’ that he’s bought for you, it seems. nevertheless, saliva gets exchanged, your hands start to roam over his chest. his heart beats so fast during the entirety of it that it makes him groan into your mouth in a way that tickles your lips with the vibration the sound provokes.

your breathing grows quicker, meanwhile he’s already panting. he’s clumsy, his back is slightly hunched as he reaches down to grab the hem of your shirt and tries to tug it up so that he can touch naked skin instead. the bulge in his pants has become so prominent by now — it keeps pressing against your thigh whenever he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer.

“sorry, you’re just so—” he trails off, biting back a rather pathetic whimper when your hand wraps around the ridge of his cock. it twitches instantly under your touch, though only he can tell because of the denim that’s in the way. “you make me feel so… hot.”

his forehead is covered with a thin film of sweat as he rests it against your own. poor guy, he gets worked up so fast.

it’s the reason why you can barely contain the smile that’s tugging the corners of your lips upwards as you murmur, “you make me feel really hot, too, yuuji.”

it’s the truth. you’re feeling the heat in your tummy, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy because of the warm wetness steadily gathering there. your pulse is pounding in your ears with thrill.

and how couldn’t it? you’re still fairly new to this entire friends with benefits thing; every time you get down to business, it’s like an entire new world has opened for the both of you. you’ve known him for years, sure, but when the clothes come off, you’ve still got so much to learn about each other.

and it shows. as you look up at him, you realise that there is an entirely new side of your best friend staring back at you through hooded eyes and too-big pupils.

yuuji is needy, open, vulnerable. horny enough to fuck you on the floor in the middle of your hallway if you as much as said the word, but so caring that he’ll wait until morning if you’d rather have him be sober for it.

though judging by the way how your fingers are unbuckling his belt now, he guesses it’ll be the former.

[thepeonysbackup]

"Just one round.."

Alastor x Human!Reader

Summary: You wanted to get out some frustration, thinking a roleplay scenario would help your needs. But you didn't expect the sigil to summon a deal maker.

Part two

Request: Yes/No

[Warning, pure horny. A rough idea that popped into my head.]

Slammed back first against a sudden pentagram on the floor of your apartment, disheveled comfy clothes shifted and ripped off by the thick black tentacles pooling out of the lines in the floor, you let a shriek out as the appendages curled and coiled around you. They slithered and slid across your skin, feeling hot, almost boiling as they worked your supple flesh, kneading, and groping with a desperate clutch as you writhed against them feverishly. You never thought the summoning spell would work, wondering how many weeks it had been since you'd tried to summon them. It had been nearly a month, but how you ended up walking right into them at the perfect moment in the middle of the night was a mystery.

Each appendage glowed a subtle green, wrapping tighter around your legs and thighs, closer, closer, and closer to your mound that was merely covered by a pair of loose cotton panties. Once noticed, they were torn to shreads, your heat now free to the open air which erupted a squeak of surprise from your lips. "W-woah! Woah, woah wa-wait, wait a minute! Slow down, time-out!" A voice, graced with static tickled your ear everso slightly, interrupting your protesting almost immediately. "Why struggle? Cause my dear isn't this what you wanted? Wanted to be taken? Like what you had so deliciously begged for when you started that ritual?" The voice was salivating, seething through their teeth it seemed, gasping out their words as if it were a game. How charming they sounded even so. "How all you wanted was to be enraptured by something your disgusting little mind couldn't even comprehend. Something so foul that all you'd need would be.. Only.. one.. round...~" You whimpered at his voice as it dipped in tone, eyes widening as you tugged at your restraints, pathetically really because you could barely move from the lewd position you were being pinned in. "I could.." He drawled, a thinner tentacle trailing over your breast tugged at the fabric covering them before it merely started to roll and envelope one of your plump peaks. "Provide that experience if...-"

You cut him off, "Fuck- Please, yes yes, whatever you want-" You shouted aloud, head lulling to the side on the floor as your back arched with need into the feeling, your eyes finally noticing a pair of reddened boots beside you as well as a cane. As your eyes blearily drug up the figure you noticed his red suit with its white trim, monocle adorning his right eye as an ever present grin was plastered on his face. He looked more then amused with this situation to your shock. Weren't demons suppose to enjoy this kind of thing?

"Anything?" He cheerily inquired to you while tapping his cane against your face, head turning so that you'd see him better as he leaned over to peer down at you like one would to a bug. "Anything! Anything, please!!" You begged harder, voice void of any shame, you were such a needy little thing.

His silence made you shudder, a sudden feeling between your thighs rubbing perfect circles against your lower lips that edged you to moan wantonly before jutting your hips forward as a rather long piece of paper appeared before you and a quill hovered about. Now, one of your hands were free to take hold of the pen and you didn't waste a single second before signing it. "It's a deal then."

[slvttyplum]

suguru was the ceo of this big company, what company you ask? couldn’t be bothered to tell you, all i know is.. he favors you.

god he favors you so much, you’re like a refreshing mint after eating, a cold glass of water after working out, you were everything.

that’s why he was fucking you, and didn’t care who knew.

knowing you had a goal in mind he didn’t care, he was going to help you get there. yeah you worked three work levels from him, but he never cared.

instead, he coddled you, made sure you were okay, made sure you ate, made sure your body was always satisfied.

if he had to go down on you three times to make you cum… he would do that, although your body was sensitive and responded to his touch… everytime.

even when you weren’t supposed to.

in a meeting and you give him some papers, your finger grazes his, immediate eye contact to see if he noticed, he did.

now you’re looking over the room to see if anyone else noticed, they didn’t, yet you still felt embarrassed.

you were just an employee, so why couldn’t he treat you as such? everyone knew that he catered to you and spoiled you, and they hated you for it.

why were you out of all people getting a months paid leave? or getting out of work early? or pastry baskets?

suguru knew that there were mumurs and whispers about the both of, but he didn’t care, you were always top priority.

he couldn’t see himself doing this for anyone else… but you, it wasn’t because of how attractive you were, or how you handled work.

he truly believed it was because he loved you, but that’s besides the point.

the true point was, you were always in front of his mind like a car in the driveway, you never left.

and god that body of yours, the way his eyes trailed over your body every time you walked away was something special.

all he could think about was trailing his big hands over your curves and tasting you, fucking you, taking in all of you.

yes you’ve done it all before, but he needed more, something of substances.

the way you tried to his your moans when he got under your skirt, pulled down your panties and lid his tongue all around your clit.

it was sexy, his dick would be pressing against his pants, standing up and bending you over, entering inside your tight wet walls.

your tiny moans and protest on how the both of you should’ve be doing this because he was your body, he didn’t give a fuck.

he wanted you, only you, to take him in, to tell him how good you felt from his dick, and how no one else knew your spots like him.

before he would fuck you, you would come into his office with a bright smile on your face and he’ll ask you how you were, a brief conversation about your boyfriend.

your ex boyfriend of course, in those tiny conversations, he could tell how unhappy you were, how you were putting on a front.

and how you only got this job because it paid more, hours pushing on your back it’s hard to get a good sleep routine.

his eyebrows furrowed, the fuck? absolutely not, a smart, beautiful young woman like yourself shouldn’t be having all these hours.

he immediately changed your schedule and started paying you double, a shock to you of course but deciding not to mention it.

form that day forward he moved you two positions up, he would’ve moved you up more but he didn’t want to get complaints from the board about unethical practices.

he didn’t care if you didn’t want anything more than just a fuck and working for him, he would stay in his position and do all he could to cater to you.

[jester-lover]

May I please ask for a Jamil, Leona and Azul with a female reader, where the reader is a secret admirer of them and has been giving them secret little gifts with cheesy love notes throughout the year and has always acted like "That's so corny, why would I ever do such a thing-" if they are ever around hearing about the gifts- just trying to throw them off the trail the whole time because they are too embarrassed to admit they have been crushing on them this whole time- and maybe the receiver of said gifts figuring out who it is one day- thank you!

Secret Admirer

Feat/ Jamil, Leona, Azul

CW/ Female reader, fluff, insecurities, shyness, embarrassment

Jamil

Jamil wholeheartedly thinks someone’s messing with him at first

That is, until the little gifts and notes get more personal

When he starts finding bottles of his favorite hair oil, little compliments about his basketball skills, and pocket-sized bug spray, he knows it’s someone who knows him

At one point, Jamil couldn’t believe someone would care for him, but this mindset was quickly taken over by his desire to lavish the attention this stranger gave him

He feels like he’s in the spotlight; someone cares for him the most, and the thought brings a blush to his cheeks and a flaming desire in his heart to find the person who is giving him these tokens

Jamil almost can’t believe it's been you this whole time, but the surprise washes away into a form of pure delight he hasn’t felt in ages

He most definitely catches you slipping something onto his side table or getting something in the mail that has strikingly similar handwriting to yours

Either way, he quickly tells you he knows, stumbling over his words as he tells you he feels the same way

Jamil finds your immediate denial and slow acceptance of the fact that you’re caught to be a beautiful sight and knows he’ll treasure you above anything else

“I know it’s you…I’m glad I’ve been getting such sweet attention from someone I love just as much…”

Leona

Leona knows from the first letter

While he figured out that you were his secret admirer from day 1, most likely from the fact that the paper smelled just like you, he keeps a facade of stupidity on toy with you 

He waves around the little pink notes and gifts almost cartoonishly, chuckling to himself as he watches you stammer on about how cringe-worthy such loud declarations of affection are

He keeps every trinket, letter, and preservable good you get him, keeping it in a box carefully hidden in his dorm 

(because God forbid anyone thinks he’s gone soft)

One day, when he knows you're catching on to his knowledge, he presents you with the box and tells you how he knew from the beginning and that he feels the same way about you

“Who knew you could be such a poet, Herbivore? Way better than the other poet I know…”

Azul

You would think he would know too, but he’s deluded himself into thinking you’d never like him back and that it’s one of the twins messing with him

But then, as he thinks about when he’s finding the little charms and notes, he realizes the twins would be working at those times and unable to plant them

Then, he starts thinking about how, whenever he brings up the admirer with you, you immediately start denying or shying away from the topic

(He’s pacing around his office at this point)

Azul most definitely sends out Jade to keep a close eye on you, and when he reports back confirming your role as Azul’s secret admirer, he practically melts

Not only does he plan out how he’ll tell you he knows, he has you presented with a special VIP offer to eat at the lounge

This is, of course, so he can get you alone

Half way through his planned speech, he starts bumbling on about how he can’t believe it and how he’d love to be your partner and take care of you

“O-of course I knew this the entire time! I just didn’t say so because I-I quite enjoyed the attention…”

[yestrday]

hihi! may i suggest the 2nd years’ reaction to a teasing but easily flustered darling? they’re like a mix of a hiyakasudere (teasedere) and a dandere. long story short, it’s kinda like “oooo you want to kiss me so bad aha” to “WAIT WHY ARE YOU GETTING SO CLOSE” kinda thingy + don’t forget to take care of yourself! don’t forget to drink water and get some rest! :)

hoooly shit this has been in my drafts for so long and i finally had a sudden spark of inspiration to finally finish it. i'm so sorry anon you've waited a terribly long time

now, for the moments where your yandere harem is not-so-yandere and relatively normal-looking

you might like: yan! academy genshin second years

you thought that you'd get to share a nice lunch with your dear friend albedo after he invited you to a nice secluded spot for the both of you to spend lunch together. the food was definitely nice— this is albedo we're talking about after all— but you couldn't help but find yourself pouting. all he had been doing all lunch was sketch away at his papers.

hmph. you think. shouldn't he give me a bit of his attention?

hoping to sneak some sort of reaction out of him, you inch closer to his drawings. he’s never had a problem with you looking at his unfinished work and yet his strong but gentle hand reach out and firmly root you to your position. “don’t move,” he mutters. and then a long period of silence follows, but this time his eyes study every inch of your face and body.

"don't you think you're starin' at me a bit too much?" you croon, flashing one of your mischievous grins at the ever stoic student with the hope of alleviating some of the awkardness you feel. "someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“maybe i do,” he hums. “what about it?” it’s so nonchalant that it’d pass through anyone’s ears as a joke, but you’re so hyper-aware of everything right now that the blush starts rising to your cheeks, gaping at him with an open mouth.

“wh– what?!” you hate how squeaky your voice is.

“oh nothing,” he resumes back to his sketching before he gives you a glance over and smirks at you. “don’t you think you’re blushing too much? someone might think you have a crush on me.”

“a– albedo!”

no one knows how xiao lets you get away with how overly touchy you are. you’re not exactly what they’d imagine to be hanging around xiao. you smile too much, flirt and tease with people, and you drag the boy around to places almost embarassing to be seen at. but xiao follows anyway. one moment he’ll go: “hmph. and why should i?” but when you pout and just whine about going with another boy, he’s immediately latching onto your arm.

you’re aware of how differently xiao treats you and to be honest, you’re a little bit smug. you like to exert your power over him time to time. pushing a little too close or trailing your fingers up his surprisingly toned muscles just to tease him.

“you’re shameful,” he’d huff and look away, but you’re delighted at how his porcelain face turns into a bright cherry shade and continue teasing him anyway.

xiao is aware of this power you have over him, but he doesn’t stop you. he likes this warm and fluttery feeling you overwhelm him with. still, it’d be nice if he could change the tables for a moment and make you stutter and blush instead.

this musing of his is shelved away in his mind until an impromptu study date comes up. poring over your textbooks for the upcoming quiz, you snack away on some nuts to help you concentrate. when xiao looks up, he sees some crumbs on you’re too focused to notice. absentmindedly, he reaches over the table and slides a finger to wipe away the crumbs. you take this the wrong.

“wh- what are you doing?!” you squeak, face blaring red. “we’re studying, you know!”

he hushes you. “hold still.”

he brings the finger to his mouth and licks up the food, confused at your shock and embarassment but no questioning it. he sits back down and resumes his studies while you spend the rest of the session covering your face with a book and fanning your face. xiao remains ever oblivious as he focuses on passing the test, unaware that his wish has already been granted.

kazuha takes your flirtatious advances seriously, because well, romance and love must be taken seriously. somewhere in the back of his mind he can sense that you’re just joking... still, let kazuha delude himself for a tiny bit.

all flirty remarks of yours are responded with sincere and genuine exclamations of love which has you blushing and running away with every encounter with him. you don’t even know why you bother anymore, but perhaps it’s the urge to see the ever so calm and serene kazuha lose his composure because of you.

it’s for the sake of blushy kazuha! you pump yourself up before pushing open the classroom doors. the boy idles by the window sill, away from the chatter of your classmates. your presence immediately has him perking up and smiling at you from across the room. you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

be still, be confident. you’re gonna get him today! 

“hi kazu~” you grin, sauntering over to him with brimming confidence. “your most favorite person is here!” you open your mouth, planning to pour out another set of cheesy pick-up lines and compliments, but kazuha reacts quicker.

“indeed, you are here right now,” he says in nigh reverence. he takes a stray lock from your hair and twirls it around his finger. “i’ve missed you over the weekend, you know?” he kisses it and smiles at you. the morning sun lights his face aglow, and the wind brushing past the window makes his hair flutter along with your heart. “oh, [your name]? you’re redder than a maple leaf.”

steam puffs out of your ears at being called out, and you stumble back, glaring at him. “i-i’ll get you one day, kazu! i swear i will!” and when you make a tactical retreat, kazuha only laughs to himself before fondly kissing the finger that held your lock of hair so tenderly.

you honestly thought that thoma would be the easily flustered type, but he's really not. it's always the same reaction out of him: you flirt, he stops, stares, and his lips crack into a brilliant yet amused smile. your charms, that have flawlessly worked on both me and women, are received like an elder brother witnessing their sibling's antics.

it makes your blood boil! really! the audacity of this guy to just shrug off your remarks when you're already growing desperate to get a reaction out of him! you up your charisma, bat your lashes more, but no, nada! it makes you a bit insecure— juuuust a little. is your allure starting to wane?

you're sulkily poking at your lunchbox, too caught up with your little dilemma to actually eat. thoma notices from across you, and his brows pinch together in concern as he regards your expression.

"is everything okay, [your name]?" he asks softly, placing a gentle hand on yours to let you know he's there. "you don't seem to have an appetite today. is the lunchbox i made not up to your liking?"

you might be sulking, but archon forbid you make thoma think his cooking wasn't up to standard! you frantically shake your head, before settling down and letting out a sigh.

"thoma~" you let out a whine, grasping his hand on yours with both of yours. you pout as prettily as you can, letting the lips you meticulously glossed this morning do their job, bat your lashes, and doing everything and anything you can in your power to turn it up a hundred times more. "be honest with me. do you find me pretty at all?"

his eyes widen at the question. "o– of course, i do, [your name]! there's no one in this school who doesn't find you attractive." something dark flickers in his eyes for a moment as he mutters lowly. "believe me."

that shadow disappears as soon as it comes, and squeezes your hands reassuringly. "more than just being attractive, i like you for who you are." his soft green eyes crease downward in a fond look, and you think your heart is racing a hundred miles per second. "i'm here with you, aren't i?"

you do your utmost best to respond, but your tongue fails you. your brain has short-circuited, and you can barely hear anything than the pounding of your heart and the muffled worried calls of your name. you slump in your seat, steam coming out of your brain and dizzy from the heartburn. you are defeated at your game.

there are advantages and disadvantages to flirting with the scaramouche. when you shoot him one of your teasing remarks or sidle a bit too close to his side, the people around you look at you like you're crazy.

and you are. you're crazy obsessed with his reactions, how sardonic and dry-humor they are but so cute and feisty. so what if his glares keep getting scarier and scarier, if his lips curl up in a sneer whenever he sees you. you don't waste a single moment in trying to get a reaction out of him!

"hey, scara~♪" your head pops out from the corner while he's busy with his locker, and glances at you before resuming with his work. "you're as cute as ever as always!"

"and i can see that you still insist on being annoying," he says plainly, before slamming his locker shut and fixing you with his signature dirty glare. "when will you stop bothering me, or do i have to put up with your nonsense until graduation?"

"only if you'll have me~"

"idiot," he scoffs. "to be disturbing me like this day in and day out. you have some nerve, [last name]. are you really that keen on breaking my peace? or—" he studies your face carefully, before a smug smile breaks out on his lips. "are you really that obsessed with me?"

your mind blanks out at the sudden accusation and you can feel the heat rising in your face. "o–obsessed with you? don't be absurd! i– you– you're not the only one, you know! don't get too full of yourself." your face reddens further as his smirk only grows, and you stomp your foot childishly. "believe me!"

"tut, tut, [last name]. you won't get further in this society if you wear your hearts on a sleeve like that. but don't worry." he lifts your chin up with a slender finger, and as much as that knowing grin of his is humiliating, you can't help but appreciate how alluring the expression is on him. "since you're so obsessed with me, i don't mind letting a commoner like you live under my care when the time calls for it."