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theyluvlyss · 11 months ago

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𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

─────────────────────

What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...

but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.

also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@junknstufff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

3,877

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

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operationladybug · 7 days ago

Text

What were your favorite wintertime activities as a child? What upcoming holidays do you celebrate? How do you celebrate? ❄️ Reblog and share in the tags.

“Hi. Please take a moment to read this. I am writing a post on behalf of @suad-khaled whose fundraiser has been stagnating and has only reached 50% despite her fundraising for several months. Suad has been verified by @/nabulsi and also by @northgazaupdates, you can read more about her and her struggles in the tag here.

Suad is an engineer who after graduating with top marks was also working as a university lecturer in her university. Just before the October 7th's accelerated genocide, she also found she was pregnant and was ready to also start this new chapter of her life.

Since the genocide, she and her husband have been displaced multiple times, escaping bombing narrowly in the process. In June she gave birth to baby Khaled and then immediately had to move to a tent with him. Suad and her baby both have been sick this year and her infant has suffered from malnutrition and chest infections in the first year of his life. The doctor recommended nebulising sessions for baby Khaled because of his chest infection and allergies which also ate into the family's limited funds.

Right now, despite facing constant hunger Suad is deeply worried about being able to afford diapers and formula for Khaled. Prices have quadrupled; a pack of 36 diapers now costs $50, and a can of formula is $13. Buying cheaper formula caused baby Khaled's health to worsen. This is also baby Khaled's first winter and he needs winter clothes.

Please, please support Suad and baby Khaled and help their fundraiser reach completion so that they are able to survive and evacuate from Gaza.”

(Thank you for the help with creating this post! I did not have the brain energy to come up with the right words, so this was written by a friend of a friend.)

💙 Reblog, Queue, Share 💙

Tagging for reach under the cut:

@sliceofdyke @littlegermanboy @g00ngala @grillwizard @graciouswings @sillymeter @palestine-donation-links @palestinegenocide @palestine-info-uncensored @gazavetters @gaza-evacuation-funds @zhuiren @weltenwellen @xinakwans @egberts @kropotkindersurprise @niqabisinparis @pukicho @paper-mario-wiki @queenie-says-free-palestine @tamamita @ultimatedirk @astrolavas @atalienart @bob-belcher @beebeedibapbeediboop @botan @buggachat @bi-trans-alliance @cassandrajean @creativepromptsforwriting @crimson-chains @colormush @drawingden @daily-prompts @design-art-architecture @develop-your-oc @discount-supervillain @evermore-fashion @enenkaydoodles @eliotbaum @elasticitymudflap @fyblackwomenart @fannyrosie @fuckyeahgravityfalls @filmgifs @greelin @gawki @ghiblisdaily • Sorry to be a bother!

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yiiyiiwrites · 2 months ago

Text

🍁 | Autumn Equinox | Azriel

Summary: you’ve been mated to Azriel for over a year now, but it’s your first time celebrating the autumn equinox outside your home court. Azriel tries his best to make it a good one 2075words

Azriel x Autumn court reader

Also Have one for [Cassian] & [Eris] & Lucien coming soon

[Acotar masterlist]

The autumn equinox used to be your favourite celebration, now it just reminded you of everything you’d lost. A bitter sweet holiday you wasn't sure if you could do each year.

You may have gained your fated lover, your other half but you’d given up your home and family.

There wasn’t any other way, you knew that. The moment you’d stumbled upon the shadow singer in the golden forests of autumn was the final fraying thread snapping.

If you didn’t hurt Azriel by your own hands, Beron would make an example of you and use you in what ever way to break the bond. To snuff out any flickering ember that remained for your mate.

So you were as sly as a fox, crawling under the overgrown hedges of molten brown thorns keeping you in the court.

Your mother understood, she packed your things as sobs shook her whole body. Even now as you closed your eyes, you could smell the tendrils of her smokey caramelised scent and the undertones of cinnamon washing over you as if she were embracing you for the last time again.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, dark wisp falling away from caressing your cheek. For a moment you imagined the touch of your mother's hand warming your cheek.

Azriel sighed as you sunk into his embrace, his presence more frequent the days leading to the equinox. You’d refused to hold him the first few days after you caught the mark on the calendar, afraid your touch would burn him.

Velaris offered a similar bout of weather that reminded you of home. The nights growing longer, colder and you were thankful there was still a little scrap of heritage you could clutch onto.

Your magic however seemed to be like a fizzling firework in the night court. Touch running hot and cold, that you didn’t stand close to your mate for months as you got used to the warmer seasons.

The restraint you’d built since your arrival dulled your flames. You no longer needed to apologise for scorching holes in Azriel’s sleeve or slapping the fiery embers from the fabric a bit too harshly as you tried to it stop marring his skin.

In the beginning he’d gifted you a pair of leather gloves, but that increased the distance between you both. You wondered why the gods had strung you two together in the beginning, everything you were, summoned painful memories for Azriel. The simple action of holding his hand reminded you why, why you needed to cage the flame to offer him a semblance of the same affection he gave to you.

"I have something for you," he said, nose tracing your jaw and pulling you out of your thoughts.

The cold crept in as he slipped away, the winter breeze pushing the stray strands of hair out out of your face. You breathed in, another wave of smokey scents and sweet aromas tipped with oak prickling the warmth beneath your fingertips. Turning around to meet your mate, you took a step back.

In his gloved hands laid a whicker hamper, tartan blanket sticking out of the box. You gasped, adding another step back. No wonder you could smell their scents. "You saw my mother?" Your voice trembled, hands diving into your coat pocket, fists clenching as you tried to expel the overpowering scents that even mingled with his shadows.

He nodded, ever the cool and controlled mate, never raising his voice or moving too fast as if he'd spook a fox in Autumn. "Yes, it's customary to exchange gifts," Azriel said, pulling the blanket out of the hamper and rolling it out on the ground, he stilled. "Isn't it?" His hazel eyes snapped up to yours, shadows freezing under the curve of his wings.

You couldn't fight the smile, nodding down at him kneeling beside the hamper. He patted the space opposite him and that damned tether tugged you closer. "Yes Az, exchanging gifts are customary but I did not get my family any." You didn't see the point, there was no way you'd be able to step in Autumn without dire consequences.

"That's fine, I did." He shrugged, laying a pumpkin pie in front of you, steam curling off the brown pastry.

A tradition in your family to gift handmade presents to each other during the autumn equinox. Your mothers famous, pumpkin pie, honey tea and spiced apples.

"You got gifts for my family?" You asked, scooting closer to Azriel who didn't offer you a glance, his attention on the contents in the hamper. "What did you get my father?" You leant forwards dipping your head and tried catching his gaze. "My father hates you and you gave him gift?"

"I got him a hunting knife." He said it like it was the most logical thing, as if your father would not be thinking of gutting him with it. His shadows seemed to follow your line of thought, a dark wisp pushing you back to sit.

"Is that why you met with my mother instead?" You laughed, even though you wanted to cry at the thought of your mate stepping into autumn for a spec of your happiness and his own demise.

Azriel finally let his gaze fall on you, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. Always searching you before he decided what words to choose. "You're mother actually requested for me." His ears tinged a darker shade, hand scratching the back of his neck.

It was odd to think of your mother with him, you knew she'd be gentle and careful in her approach. Something you thought Azriel didn't receive much of in way of interaction. You also wondered what she thought of your mate, hoping she didn't worry and didn't judge alone from his stony features.

The grey cable knit sweater (the one you'd knit him last year) hugged his muscular arms, bicep flexing at his movement that you forget for a second what he said. A wave of your mother's scent hit you like a whip and brought you back.

"How the Gods does my mother manage to request your presence?"

"Well, she knows a lady in winter, that knows a lady in day and knows..." he trailed off the sentence, stumbling over his words trying to grasp the order of whatever your mother had told him. Trust your mother to use her network of gossips to send word to Velaris in order to find your mate.

"And how many ladies do you know?"

"Many," he smirked leaning in to you, "the only lady that matters is you though." His lips pressed against yours, warmth spreading through your chest as his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer.

You smirked, storing away the memory so that you could show Feyre later and make your mate sweat about his duties to a high lady that didn't matter.

"Smooth, I bet my mother saw right through you." You said, tracing your swollen lips. You leant across Azriel's lap and plucked a ruby red apple from the hamper, teeth sinking into the shiny skin.

"Your mother probably thinks we're an equal match. How many guards did you court till you made it to me?" His lip twitched, fingers pinching your thigh for another swift attack. You swatted him way, squealing as his shadows skimmed the small slip of skin where your top had rode up over your hip.

It were true, you'd worked your way through nearly every division of the autumn army in the hopes of finding someone who wasn't just focused on following the high lords every word. What else were you supposed to do for five hundred years?

"I'd be quiet if I were you, recon I could get a rank higher than you back in autumn.” You swatted the curling wisps out of your face, sending them hissing back to their master.

"I doubt your mother would approve."

You didn’t argue with him on that, knowing that your mother was never fond of any suitor you’d brought home before.

“I take it these are from them?” You asked, lifting a small wooden box out of the hamper. A yellowing envelope stuck to the lid and sealed with red wax. You ripped the letter and scanned over your mother’s cursive writing.

The usual sentimental words she’d say to you around the table whilst you thanked the gods of harvest for giving you all good things and planting new seeds of regrowth and learning. At the very bottom below her signature however was a blurred splotchy mess, as if she’d written it last minute and folded the paper.

I hope this equinox brings you many blessings and offers you new fields to plant your own seeds. May you nurture the connection between you and your fated. My daughter you’ve been blessed, as have I now that I know you will be loved and safe.

Azriel peered over your shoulder, “I think she likes me,” he said, cutting a second piece of pumpkin pie and shoving it in his mouth.

“Just thank the stars you didn’t meet my father.” Now that you were banished from autumn, you doubted that you’d see him again. Too proud of his home to step out of tradition.

He hummed in agreement, pouring a cup of honey tea and setting it down in front of you. The view from the house of wind's balcony was your favourite, always bringing a smile to your face and reminding you that you could find beauty in any court. You did miss Autumn, but Velaris had grown on you, the constant stars blinking in the inky sky each night.

A small fire flickered in a homemade pit, copper bowl keeping it contained. Peeling the overlapping cloth, you traced the knitted mittens. Charcoal grey yarn that looked like liquid mercury woven together with softer orange, the two colours a symbol of your union with Azriel. Picking them up from the box, you slipped them into your pocket, freezing as something dropped out of one the mittens. A dark wisp dove out from its owner and caught the small object.

The shadows held it up and twisted it in front you, a fox figurine carved from wood and painted orange and beige. Tiny brushstrokes imitating fur, looking oddly like the fox you had as a child. A gift from your younger sister, you'd left your other figurines back in Autumn and hated yourself for it ever since. Least you had one now.

Azriel was silent as ever, watching you intently.

"My mother didn't give you anything? I mean I know I am gift enough Az," you said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder to yours.

His head dipped, Shadows concealing his face. "She did, wouldn't let me leave till I finished a pumpkin pie she made. Your sister made me a little fox of my own." Thats when you noticed the tiny wood carved fox pendent on a thin string around his neck, dark ink peeking out underneath it.

"Oh god's Az, don't let your enemies hear you say that. If that's all it takes." And by the looks of it, he'd enjoyed it so much, he was half way through the pumpkin pie from the hamper.

Cool metal met your fingertips as you lifted the cloth again, your reflection staring back at you in the silver blade. "I take it this gift is for both of us," you joked, Azriel picked it up and turned the hilt in his hand. A red stone embedded in the pommel, a scripture you couldn't quite make out on the hilt.

"Hunting knife, a few centuries old," he said glancing at your furrowed brows. "Look the hilts worn, the leather binding it, is coming away. Blade needs sharpening too, must have been in your family for a long time." He passed the knife back, blade pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

You wrapped it back in the cloth, sandwiching it between the thick layers. "No idea why he'd give me that old thing," you mumbled, slamming the box shut. You were never one to use a knife, more inclined to using your magic and merging it with autumn's fighting techniques.

"No idea, just don't gut me with it in my sleep."

"Never," you gasped. "Just remember good behaviour or its a blunt blade my dear."

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii

#acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic

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nxuvillette · 11 months ago

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“BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE!”

SPENDING CHRISTMAS W/ TR MEN

synopsis: spending the holidays with your boyfriend is like a dream come true.

❥- including : baji keisuke, kazutora hanemiya, chifuyu matsuno

❥- note : decided to write something sweet for christmas coming up !! also new theme.. so new post colors :> ! i hope you guys enjoy, reblogs are appreciated <;3.

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, fluff, christmas activities, mentions of food (baji + chifuyu), use of pet names (babe , baby , princess), tooth rotting fluff.

♡ BAJI KEISUKE

you were honestly super excited that baji suggested building gingerbread houses together for christmas. you had seen many couples partake in the activity and now that you were in a relationship, you wanted to try it out.

baji came over with all of the supplies you needed. he even suggested that you two make little gingerbread men to live in your little houses together. he honestly thought it was super fun decorating their faces with different gumdrops and drawing on their smiles with delicious frosting. it was fun. both of you were having such a fun time doing it that you made multiple gingerbread men and you had even made them girlfriends to have. baji thought it was a cute addition.

it was all fun and games until you and baji got to the house making part.

neither of you expected it to be so complicated and so.. messy. there was frosting all over your fingers and the parts of the houses kept collapsing or caving in whenever you moved your fingers away. there were a few times that he thought it would stick together, but in the end, he was met with the same fate of the pieces falling apart and onto the placemat on the table.

although it wasn’t you thought it would be, you two were still having fun. you would both laugh whenever a piece of the houses would rip over or when the pieces of candy wouldn’t stick long enough. it was hilarious to both of you, so that’s why you continued trying to perfect the houses. baji kept making the same comment that the gingerbread men can’t be homeless and even if the house was falling apart they needed a roof over their heads. you had to agree with him on that.

after almost two hours of working, you both got your houses into decent condition. it was messy and didn’t look anything like the picture on the box, but you still had so much fun regardless. you two were honestly proud that you didn’t give up halfway through and throw them away.

“well, we did our best!” baji exclaimed, popping one of the many gumdrops into his mouth.

you couldn’t help but laugh at how they looked, but what he said was true. “i agree!” you then came over beside him to take a photo of the houses.

baji snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. he dragged his thumb along the corner of your lip to wipe off the excess frosting. “had a little somethin’ there..” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss onto you.

you couldn’t hide your grin, brushing your fingers through his hair. he honestly loved when you did that. your fingers always felt so nice threaded through his locks, brushing against his scalp. he could fall asleep like that if he wanted to. “i love you..” you whispered, looking into his chocolate brown eyes.

he squeezed your body against him, bringing you closer. “i love you more, baby, don’t you forget that.” he intertwined his fingers with yours, spreading his warmth onto your hand.

♡ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

it was actually your idea to go out and see christmas lights with kazutora. there was a festival that was planning a lighting ceremony and you decided to go with him. both of you were really excited, considering it was your first christmas together as a couple.

you bundled up in your winter clothes. it was going to be a chilly night, but neither of you minded the cold if it meant you got to be together when you saw the lights. it wasn’t a far drive at all and there were a lot of people who were waiting to see the christmas tree shine. the sheer winter wind nipped at your exposed skin, which brought you closer to your boyfriend. kazutora had a tight hold on your body, making sure that you weren’t shivering. he’d hate to see you feeling any kind of cold.

soon enough, the tree was lit. multicolored lights were laced around the trees branches, making them twinkle in your eyes. kazutora couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you gleaming like a small child at the pretty tree. you looked so cute. he just couldn’t help but admire you in the glow of the lights.

you then walked along the sidewalks, pointing at the different trees and bushes that had lights strung along their leaves. you and kazutora had even taken a few photos along the way. he loved nothing more than to spend time with you, even if that meant his toes were numb. you never failed to make him happy and that’s why spending holidays with you felt so special. you made them just a little more exciting than it usually would be.

kazutora held your hand as you both viewed the different houses in the neighborhood. some people had decorated their houses beautifully. “baby, look! that snowman is adorable!” you pointed at the glowing decor with a smile on your face.

he chuckled when his eyes focused on it. he had an image flow into his head. it was of you and him together in the future when you had your own house together. you’d be decorating the front yard with too many lights to count and you would have the brightest house on the block. he could never say no to you.

“looks cute, princess, just like you.” he kissed your cheek, making your face turn warm from the sudden contact.

you shivered at the sudden gust of wind that danced through the air. the temperature had dropped even lower than it had originally started at during the beginning of the evening. “i don’t mean to c-cut it short but can we go home? i-i’m freezing!” you looked at your boyfriend apologetically.

kazutora draped his arm around your shoulder, pecking your lips in the process. “of course, babe. maybe we can make some hot chocolate when we get home, yeah?” he nodded, to which you agreed eagerly.

♡ CHIFUYU MATSUNO

you were excited that evening to spend time with your boyfriend for a little christmas date. he had been talking about it for weeks. chifuyu planned every little thing and he was so ecstatic to have you come over and be with him. he had even gotten you both matching pajamas to snuggle up in.

when you arrived, you were hit with the aroma of food and you saw what your boyfriend had done for you.

chifuyu had bought an abundance of snacks and drinks for you two. he had quite literally gone all out for you and it made you so happy. there hadn’t been a single man in your life that would do something like that for you. it honestly made you fall for chifuyu even harder than you already had before. he had this smile on his face and he looked so handsome in his pajamas.. even if there was a snowman on the shirt.

the two of you cuddled up on the couch with many blankets and watched classic christmas movies together. the food he brought was honestly great too. pizza, cookies, candy canes, he had even made hot chocolate with those extra large marshmallows that could hardly fit in the mug. it was absolutely perfect.

with the food and how late it was, you found yourself becoming sleepy. you had quite the busy day and relaxing with chifuyu was only making you want to drift off and sleep for as long as you could. he could sense by your hums and droopy eyes that you were indeed exhausted, so he decided to take you upstairs to his room so you could both retire for the evening in there.

“tired, huh?” chifuyu asked, lying down beside you in bed.

you had your eyes closed, but you nodded in response. “yeah.. i was so busy today..” you scooched closer to your boyfriend to feel his arms wrap around your body.

he pecked the top of your head, tucking you underneath his chin so you were resting against his chest. he smiled to himself at your sleepy form. you were so cute. there were so many reasons for him to love you, and this was just one of them. “goodnight, baby.. i love you.” he rested his chin atop the crown of your head.

a light snore came from your lips, making him laugh through his nose. he couldn’t imagine spending christmas with anyone else but you by his side.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x you #baji keisuke x reader #baji x reader #baji fluff #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora x reader #kazutora fluff #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff

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wheels-of-despair · 10 months ago

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The Best $7 Eddie Munson Ever Spent Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: In the fall of 1983, Eddie bought something he thought was cool… but he didn't realize how important it was until a year later. Contains: Uncle Wayne, shopping, time-jumping, snuggles, a little bit of Eddie and Evil Woman's early days. Words: 1.3k

The best $7 Eddie Munson ever spent was at a thrift store just outside of Hawkins, Indiana, in the fall of 1983.

But he didn't know it until a year later.

The night before his Uncle Wayne disappeared for Thanksgiving - the man had worked overtime on every holiday he could, since he'd determined that Eddie could take care of himself - he slapped $40 on the kitchen table between their TV dinners.

"Wha'sis for?" Eddie asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Eddie swallowed and repeated, "What's this for?"

"Sales everywhere on Friday. Go get yourself a new coat, it's supposed to be a bad winter. And a pair of gloves that still has the damn fingers in them. Looks like I'm raisin' a hobo."

"Does not," Eddie mumbled as he swirled his fork around the pasta in his bowl. He liked his old coat… even though it was faded. And coming apart at the seams in a few places. And the cuffs were so frayed, every time he tried putting it on, his fingers got caught in the threads. And there was that hole from when he'd gotten caught on a chain-link fence during a high-speed getaway. But he'd patched it! And the gloves he'd cut the fingers out of were cool!

Wayne looked up from the piece of bread he was buttering to give his nephew a pointed stare.

"Fine," Eddie gave in. "Thanks, Uncle Wayne."

"Yeah, yeah." The old man's eyes twinkled as he waved off his nephew's thanks and took another bite.

Being a practical and frugal-minded teen, Eddie started the search for a coat at his favorite thrift store.

"Hey, kid," greeted George, the store's owner, who barely looked up from the battered Tupperware he was sticking price tags on. "Just got a pile of 8-tracks, haven't even priced 'em yet, you interested?"

"Business before pleasure," Eddie grinned at the gray-haired man. "I come seeking winter-wear."

"Winter-wear, huh? Good call. Heard it's gonna be a rough one."

"Yeah, that's what my uncle said, too," Eddie nodded.

"Check the back wall, might be somethin' back there that'll fit ya."

"Thanks!" Eddie carefully treaded through the crowded aisles of discarded treasures and found the wall of outerwear. He flipped through cheap plastic hangers holding neon windbreakers, matted fake fur, and load of crunchy raincoats that reeked of cheaper cigarettes than his. And then… he found it.

It was long, and black, and it was way too big for him.

But when he put it on and turned around, it swished around his calves and made him feel like a vampire in a cloak.

Eddie walked to the grubby mirror leaned up against the wall and checked himself out. It was whole. Almost new, even. It was warm, and he could easily fit it on over the lighter leather jacket and battle vest he wore year-round. He lifted his arms out, and the fabric rippled to his sides. He reached for the edges and pulled them away from his body, holding them out to see just how big the coat was.

It made him look like a bat.

He lifted the paper price tag attached to a button-hole by a string.

$10? Sold.

He twirled in the mirror, watching the fabric rustle and sway around him like a creature of the night. He held up an arm to cover his mouth, like he was hiding his fangs. Yep. This is it. This is the one.

He took it off and draped it over his shoulder, deciding to see if any cool t-shirts had arrived since last he'd looked. He sorted through the rack quickly. Nothing new, but you can't win 'em all.

Eddie returned to the front with the coat, and George laughed when he spotted it. "Kid, I could fit five of you in that thing."

"I like it," Eddie grinned. "It's roomy. How 'bout those 8-tracks?"

George heaved the box full of newly acquired 8-tracks onto the counter so Eddie could dig through them. It was mostly show tunes and Christmas music, but he enjoyed the hunt nonetheless.

"Nothin'?" George asked when Eddie looked up.

Eddie shook his head. "A Partridge Family Christmas isn't really my style."

George laughed and scribbled ".50 each" on the flap of the cardboard box. "Will you find a spot for that in the front window?"

"Yessir." Eddie picked up the hefty box and walked it to the front of the store. He moved some creepy dolls and nudged a red tricycle aside to make room, placed the box down with the price facing the window, and returned to the counter.

"Just the coat, then?"

"Yessir."

"$7."

"$7?" Doesn't the tag say $10?

"That thing takes up too much room. I can fit four more in its place."

Eddie grinned and passed his cash to the man behind the counter.

"I'd ask if you want a bag, but I don't think I have any I could fit that monstrosity in," George teased as he handed Eddie his change.

"Thanks, George," Eddie laughed and collected his coat. "See ya soon."

"Stay warm, kid."

The morning Wayne came home from his long and tiring holiday stretch, he found far more change than he'd expected on the table, two pairs of new gloves… and a hulking mass of black draped over the back of a chair.

Wayne picked up the coat and held it out in front of him, marveling at its size. Well, it was warm, didn't have any holes in it, and clearly hadn't cost an arm and a leg. He folded it and put it back where he found it, spotting a note underneath the cash.

"Coat was $7. It'll come in handy when I finally become a vampire."

Wayne snorted.

"Gloves were buy one, get one free. I can show you how to cut the fingers out of yours if you want to look as cool as me."

He rolled his eyes at the boy snoring down the hall, put down the note, and started getting ready for bed.

"Why is it so fucking cold? I'm freezing my balls off."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend of three months in the Hawkins High parking lot. Most of the sensible students went on inside when it was this cold, but his girl - who hated this place as much as he did - decided to stick it out with him outside until the bell rang and forced them in.

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Her eyes rolled and her teeth chattered.

He checked his watch - seven minutes before the bell - and took one last drag off his cigarette. He exhaled as he dropped the butt on the ground and put it out with a twist of his boot.

"Wanna go in?"

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. Stubborn.

"C'mere, then." Eddie unbuttoned the massive black coat he'd bought the year before - now decorated with band buttons on the lapels - and held it open to her. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Come on," he urged.

She looked at him suspiciously. Shit, was this weird? Was inviting your girl into a coat cocoon more of a six-month thing? And then she walked into him. He wrapped his arms and his coat around them both and felt her relax against him almost instantly. She slowly slid her arms around his middle and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Oh god, oh god, did she just nuzzle her cheek into him?!?

Eddie was glad she couldn't see the grin on his face. He tilted his head down and let his hair fall around his face so no one else could see it either. He leaned his cheek against her head and inhaled the scent of her, closing his eyes and wishing the bell would never ring so they could stay just like this forever.

What had George said the day he bought this coat? That he could fit five people in there?

Eddie was quite happy with just two.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

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tropes-and-tales · 9 months ago

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You'd Be Surprised

For the super-late Winter Prompts (2023 Edition)! The master list can be found here!

This one was requested by the patient @justreblogginfics!

"From Sad Christmas prompts: #9 (being dumped before the holidays) with Beau "Cyclone" Simpson"

CW: Light angst (talk of infidelity).

Word Count: 1841

Vice Admiral Beau Simpson is deep in thought, lost in the pile of reports and memos on his desk when a soft knock at his door draws him out of his focus.

“Come in,” he calls out, and the door opens to admit you.

TOPGUN, Beau often says, runs on its support staff—many of them civilians, like you. Tech support, human resources, finance and accounting…it all keeps the machinery running smoothly so he and his pilots can focus on training, on missions, on testing new tech.

It’s always a balancing act, working with the civilian support corp. There’s a level of respect, of course, but he can’t quite ask his HR representative to drop and give him a hundred push-ups if his pension paperwork is wrong. Beau has to walk the fine line of being professional without being a drill sergeant, and sometimes he struggles.

He’s never struggled with you, though.

You’re pretty, but Beau is mostly immune to pretty women, since he’s always put his career above relationships and dating. You’re funny, but no one would ever accuse Beau of having much of a sense of humor.

No—with you, it was your competence that caught his eye first. You’re that rare blend of book-smart, experienced, and emotionally apt. You have an aura of wisdom, a whole cool-and-collected schtick that seems to act on those around you. You run your department as well as Beau runs TOPGUN, but you manage to inspire your team without the threat of calisthenics.

You’re the sharpest person Beau has ever met, and if he’s mostly immune to pretty women, he’s an absolute goner around smart ones. He’s been in love with you since the day he sat in one of your meetings and watched you corral a bunch of egomaniac, hot-headed career military men without breaking a sweat.

The only issue? You’re engaged.

You’ve been engaged for as long as Beau has known you. Engaged to a grunt in the Coast Guard, the mediocre sort of man that Beau has seen a thousand times in the military: enlisted because of some vague, Hollywood-fed misplaced notion of bad-assery, does the bare minimum, barely managed to rise to the rank of petty officer. For all your amazing traits, your relationship seems to be a blind spot to you, because no matter what angle Beau examines it from, he can’t for the life of him see why you bother.

He tried to draw you out, just the once. The two of you had been holding a working dinner in his office, and the conversation had drifted into the personal over dim sum. Beau had pointed his chopsticks in the direction of your left hand, made a mild joke about the Coast Guard not paying your fiance enough to afford a bigger diamond.

He felt like shit immediately afterwards, the way your face fell at the comment, the way you tucked your hand away on your lap and replied with something slightly defensive. But then you added, almost to yourself, that at least you’d gotten a ring, finally, so Beau guessed that there was an entire roiling ocean beneath your calm façade.

Still, he apologized that night, then again the next day, and then again at least three more times before you had smiled at him and told him not to worry about it.

The two of you have been on firm footing ever since, like Beau’s fumbling joke never happened—and he loves that about you too, how you move past things, how you don’t hold a grudge.

But now, as you enter his office, he can immediately tell that something is off. You look just the same, but that calming aura of yours feels off. It’s like big spiky thorns of some emotion (Anger? Frustration?) are threaded through, and it follows you like a storm cloud as you set a sheaf of paperwork in front of him.

Beau arches his eyebrows at you, but you miss the gesture. A beat later, he asks, “everything alright?”

“Fine, sir.” It comes out terse, bitten-off, like you’re clenching your jaw.

“You sure?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Beau watches you for a beat longer, but you only stare back at him, impassive, so he turns to the paperwork. That’s when he notices it, and he’s not sure how he didn’t notice it immediately because it’s been the proverbial stone in his craw since he fell for you.

Your left ring finger is bare. The cheap-looking metal band, the paltry diamond—it’s missing. There’s nothing there but the faintest line, a stripe of skin slightly paler than your usual skin tone.

You notice when he notices. He glances up and meets your gaze, and it’s no longer impassive. There’s an entire novel written in your expression: pain and anger and sadness, and a hint of challenge to see how he might react or what he may say.

If you’re expecting him to make another joke in poor taste, he disappoints you. He gestures at the chair across from him and offers for you to sit, and then he asks again, far softer, “is everything alright?”

You sit down, but you don’t answer him other than offering a faint shake of your head.

“You want to talk about it?”

Another shake of the head. “No, sir, but thank you.”

“You sure?”

That makes you smile, even for a brief second. “I don’t think relationship woes fall under the purview of a vice admiral.”

Beau smiles back at you. “You’d be surprised.”

You shake your head again, but you lift your hands in a helpless gesture before they fall back into your lap. “Nothing much to say, really. He was cheating, and he had been for a long time. I have no idea how I never noticed it.”

If anyone would have ever questioned the selflessness of Beau’s love for you, this would prove it to them. At your news, he doesn’t feel relief for you to be single finally, and he doesn’t feel vindication that his bad impression of your fiancé was proven right. He only feels a low-burning fury at the man for hurting you. Beau, at his core, wants you to be happy…even if it isn’t with him.

But he’d love to be the one to make you happy, all the same.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, earnest. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You shrug but don’t add more, and Beau can guess at part of your angst. The holidays are mere weeks away, and you are an unabashed Christmas-lover. You love nothing more than all the cliched stuff: baking and decorating and wearing ugly sweaters and drinking spiced wine while Bing Crosby croons in the background. It’s your time of the year, but now? Now you’re facing it single and devastated by being cheated on.

Beau hates to see you looking so sad now, so he adds, “want me to pull some strings and get him posted somewhere terrible?”

It does the trick: it makes you smile again. “He loves the ocean. Hence the Coast Guard. Nowhere is terrible for him.”

“Atlantic Area has Station Chicago. As far from an ocean as a guy can get in the States.”

Your smile widens. “He does hate the Midwest.”

“Say the word and I’ll make a call.”

“How fast can you get him there? I’d really love to see his Christmas fucked up, y’know? Since he fucked up mine.”

It startles a laugh out of Beau. He’s never heard you swear before, and he’s never heard you express any emotion even in the vicinity of vengeance. Despite the circumstances, he finds he likes it. There’s a bit of fire to you, and he never would have guessed at it before.

“Don’t let him fuck up your holiday season,” he says. “Not to sound like some best friend in a Hallmark movie, but he’s not worth it.”

That startles a laugh out of you. “And how do you know about the tropes of a Hallmark movie, exactly?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The smile on your face turns soft. “I suppose I can skip the dramatic post-breakup haircut and rally for the sake of Yuletide cheer.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, and the nickname slides out of his mouth so easily that he doesn’t even notice until the words hit you. He sees your eyes widen the barest fraction, your smile turning a fraction uncertain around the edges, but you don’t say anything so the moment passes and you turn to the business at hand.

You walk him through the preliminary budget reports you and your team pulled together. Beau makes up for the awkward moment by asking more questions than usual, asking about certain earmarks and program details. You answer each question with your usual cool competence, but when he chances a look at you, you have the same soft, slightly uncertain smile on your face.

You noted the nickname. Beau knows you won’t forget it anytime soon. A lesser man might despair at showing his cards right out of the gate, but Beau didn’t become a vice admiral by waffling about what he wants.

He wants you. He’s wanted you since he first started working with you. No sense in pretending otherwise. Coy games of cat-and-mouse are for Hallmark movies and children. He’s a grown man, and you’re a grown woman, and he will respect your need to recover from your disappointing engagement ending, but he won’t pretend that he isn’t interested, once you’re ready.

Once the reports are reviewed, signed, and rubber-stamped, he hands them back to you. You take them, stand up, and you start to turn towards the door, but he stops you by asking, “are you still planning on going to Warlock’s holiday party?”

That same soft smile with a hint of hesitation before you shrug, then nod.

“I thought I might skip it. Stay home with a tub of ice cream, you know? But maybe I’m rallying faster than I thought I would,” you tell him.

“I’m glad to hear it. I hope you can make it.”

Another nod and you turn to leave, but when you lay your hand on the doorknob, you pause and turn back to face him.

“Thank you, sir. I…appreciate it.”

“Beau.” He says it softly, like if he barks it out as an order, he might scare you away. It isn’t mandatory that you call him “sir” like you do—you’ve always just extended that level of respect—but the two of you have just shared a moment, and he’s loathed to let you feel like you’re on uneven footing.

When you’re ready, and when Beau makes his move, he wants to make sure you’re absolutely clear on this point: you’re equals, and he’s not a vice admiral but just a man, and you’re not a member of staff but just a woman.

“You can call me Beau,” he adds, and then you do—you nod, and you say his name, and it makes that soft smile on your face bloom into something brighter.

#beau simpson #beau simpson imagine #beau cyclone simpson #cyclone simpson #cyclone simpson imagine #cyclone imagine #top gun maverick #winter prompts 2023 #tropes and tales

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artbyanca · 9 months ago

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The triumph of spring.

I'm so happy I managed to get this done in time for Mărțișor☺️

In Romanian Mărțișor is the name for the holiday of the 1st of March; the traditional name for the month of March and the talisman made out of red and white threads twisted together and with various lucky charms attached, that are exchanged on the 1st and worn during the month of March. A long time ago I illustrated the legend of the hero that freed the sun and kept wanting to do some of the other legends about Mărțișor.

Winter had reigned over world for a long time, putting the Earth to sleep and fobidding anything from growing, when a young girl appeared. She wondered the empty woods searching for her fate when, one day, she came across a snowdrop flower bursting through the snow beneath a dry thornbush. She decided to help the flower thrive and cleared the thorns and snow. The Winter queen was angered by the snowdrop's defiance of her rule and sent a blizzard to kill it. The girl did not allow that to happen and covered the little flower with her hands. She did not budge for 9 days, though the lashing of the winds bloodied her hands. Though the blizzard raged, the warmth of her blood awoke the Earth from his slumber. He declared the time time of Winter passed and crowned the girl the new queen of the world, giving her the name Spring.

#mărțișor #romanisme #romanian folklore #romanian traditions #folklore #folklore and rock'n'roll #legend #spring #winter #snowdrop #illustration #pen and ink #drawing #art #artists on tumblr

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tj-dragonblade · 5 months ago

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Dreamling Fic Masterpost

In honor of Dreamling Week, here's an updated masterpost of everything I've written for them so far, split into SFW and NSFW. Each section is arranged oldest to newest. Links go to Tumblr posts, and each Tumblr fic post has the direct AO3 link also.

You can also find me HERE on AO3.

(Read More for length so it's not ridiculous when pinned)

💕🌼The Fluff and Assorted Other Offerings🌦️❤️‍🩹 If it's rated M there is a brief spicy passage somewhere in the fic but not enough to warrant the full E

Use Your Words Rated T, ~2500 words Hob finds mistletoe hung in the bar. Dream is. Insistent. That they adhere to tradition.

Old Acquaintance Rated G, ~800 words It’s New Year’s Eve at the New Inn, and Dream and Hob are on the same page

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: velvet Rated G, 165 words One of Hob's favorite things about Dream

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: memory Rated G, ~230 words Dream is distracted by a memory

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: thread Rated G, ~200 words Hob loves his grey hair

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: daydream Rated T, ~800 words Hob's daydreams are not the only distracting ones

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: enthusiasm Rated G, ~200 words Enthusiasm is one of Hob's defining traits

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: trust Rated T, ~1500 words Dream finds Hob cooking for him (aka The Spicy Omelettes one)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: grass Rated G, ~330 words A date in Fiddler's Green

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: fireplace Rated G, ~170 words Generic hearth metaphor

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: strong Rated T, ~3400 words Dream helps a drunken Hob get home (aka The Drunken Confessions one)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: teach Rated T, ~520 words Dream teaches Hob how to summon him; self-immolation discouraged

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: vague Rated M, 465 words Sometimes Dream speaks vaguely. Sometimes he is Very Direct

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: glasses Rated T, ~330 words Sometimes Hob wears Glasses

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: yesterday Rated G, ~470 words Time works different in the Dreaming

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: recovery Rated T, ~2900 words Dream is dating; Hob works hard to just be a good friend while watching it fall apart (aka The Thessaly Breakup fic)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: friend Rated T, ~1800 words Dream contemplates friendship, Hob, and the blurring of boundaries

In the Morning Light Rated T, ~1960 words Dream visits Hob on a rainy morning

Anticipation Rated T, ~700 words Dream chooses Hob’s Halloween costume (spoiler alert: it's the Wavemother's robe from BG3)

Untitled Knight Hob/King Dream Scene Rated M, ~1300 words A synopsis-plus-scene-draft of a potential Knight Hob and King Dream AU that in all likelihood I will never actually go back to, but I like what's here so it goes on the masterlist

The Keeper and the Traveler Rated G, ~1700 words Not-Exactly-Human AU. A campfire folktale about finding what you didn’t know you were searching for, or something like that. Inspired by Nightwish's 'The Islander'

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm Rated M, ~6900 words It’s winter in London and Hob is interested in sharing various cold-weather human experiences with his distinctly-not-human boyfriend

Shampoo Rated G, ~550 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Scent'. Big changes also mean small changes, and sometimes a loss can bring gain as well

London Fog Rated M, ~3500 words Sequel to Caribbean Sunset. Human AU. Dream does his best to ignore Possibilities while he copes with returning from holiday

Before I Go Rated G, ~850 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Evening'. A Season-of-Mists-style leave-taking visit, some time later in their relationship

Vogue Rated M, ~750 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Photography'. Human AU. Dream comes home and Hob greets him with a camera.

☂️The Umbrella Boys series, a Human AU☂️ A Sweet Romance Beginning in a Queue Rated T, ~4500 words 🎶Bus stop, wet day, he’s there, I say, ‘Please share my umbrella’🎶 Love Rain Down On Me Rated M, ~2300 words 5 times those Three Little Words go unspoken, and one time they do not.

Chaos and Calm Rated G, ~1550 words Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.

🔥🌶️The Spice and the Smut🌶️🔥 (aka The Stuff You Hide in the Pantry at Work For) 😉😘

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: snack Rated E, ~1800 words Hob comes home to find Dream waiting from him in the traditional murder-widow robe

Built For You Rated E, ~820 words Hob questions Dream on some particulars of his waking world anatomy

Insatiable Rated E, ~3100 words Dream gets rimmed and railed within an inch of his life

Of Cutoff Shorts and Classic Cars Rated E, ~4300 words Hob has made some very distinct wardrobe choices on a hot day. Dream approves.

Little Indulgences Rated E, ~1000 words A spot of fun with lingerie and sex toys

Caribbean Sunset Rated E, ~5500 words Human AU. Hob hooks up with a beautiful stranger on a Caribbean cruise

My Song Can But Borrow Your Grace Rated E, ~6800 words Fanfic for Flatter the Mountain Tops by Teejaystumbles (linked in the post). Dragon AU. Hob wants Dream in dragon form to fuck him while he stays in human form; Dream is beginning to see there’s more to it than just a size kink.

Appreciation Rated E, ~4300 words Sequel to Anticipation. Hob wears the costume (the Wavemother's Robe from BG3); Dream has his fun.

On the Edge of a Waking Dream Rated M, ~3900 words Monsterfucktober Bingo Square 'Ghost'. Human AU. Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one

The Beauty of the Beast Rated E, ~3100 words Monsterfucktober Bingo Square 'Were-creature'. Recently-turned werewolf Hob wants to protect Dream from this new side of him. Dream is. Not interested in being protected.

Ambrosia Rated E, ~4000 words An exercise in celebrating the human messiness (and messy humanness) that Dream finds so attractive in Hob

Customer Service Rated E, ~4500 words For the Dreamling Week 2024 June 5 prompt 'Dirty'. Human AU. Mechanic Hob's just trying to fix the rich guy's Porsche but the rich guy is looking at Hob like he's a five-course meal

#Dreamling #Sandman #Dreamling Week 2024 #Masterpost #TJs Fics

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rebouks · 10 months ago

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Robin’s first day at school after the winter holidays was just like any other; painful, overwhelming, and slightly boring.

There was a myriad of reasons he didn’t want to be here, but Oscar and Courtney were adamant it was somehow important-.. and mandatory, so Robin didn’t have a choice. They’d become immune to his avoidant shenanigans over time too, no longer were they so easily fooled, even when he’d made himself sick on purpose.

He’d given up eventually, the worried glances they’d exchange each morning proving to be as tiresome as school itself. Pretending to be fine was better than being shipped off to some snooty shrink again; one who wouldn’t believe him anyway, who couldn’t even imagine the nonsense he was subject to on a daily basis, despite their fancy certificates hanging behind their fancy desks.

Robin was completely mute whilst at school, save for the odd whisper to Jude or sometimes Jacob, if necessary-.. but never Juniper. She was too condescending with her concern and far too obvious. He wanted to fade into obscurity, not be thrust into the limelight by an overzealous cousin trying to do the “right” thing by speaking on his behalf.

He’d resorted to telling her off in the end, her lip quivering as he explained how she was only making things worse. Robin wasn’t sure what had surprised her more, the fact that he was so vehemently opposed to being defended, or that he’d spoken to her at all. She’d acquiesced though, so that was something.

The only person he spoke to properly was nurse Wiles, or Silvia, as she insisted at this point. The cacophony of voices and Robin’s general disdain for being trapped in this hellish building for six hours a day usually resulted in a pounding headache and a disgusting, dissolvable aspirin; he was her most frequent visitor, discounting the child that was practically allergic to everything in sight.

He kept to himself as much as he could, scrawling out enough work to avoid being pulled up and listening to music wherever he could. He had a solid collection of tiny I-pod shuffles and headphones by now, enough to rotate between classes as they inevitably wound up being seized by exasperated adults.

His favourite deception were the decoy headphones, their obnoxious size drawing immediate attention and victorious confiscation. He’d huff and hand them over in defeat, only to thread a smaller more inconspicuous pair beneath his shirt and tuck them under his thick, curly mop as soon as their backs were turned; they were none the wiser, content with their perceived punishment. Robin thought teachers were supposed to be smart…

Though Robin’s long tangle of curls were useful in some ways, they also drew their fair share of unwanted attention. As if being provoked, shoved, tripped, and called “Mutey” wasn’t enough, he was often referred to as a girl, particularly by the other boys.

He wasn’t entirely sure why it was so hilarious, or why it never got old, especially since it was painfully obvious by now that he didn’t give a shit. He was used to being the proverbial punching bag. Being as different as he was obviously made him an easy target, almost as though he had a bullseye permanently woven into the fabric of his jumper.

He’d surmised that they had their reasons for picking on him though; some had parents who were just as cruel, some had none at all, some were desperate to fit in, and some were just too stupid to know any better.

Either way, Robin had decided a long time ago that he’d rather they mithered him with their so-called bullying than risk upsetting some poor schmuck who wasn’t privy to the concealed insecurities that diluted their venomous words and wicked laughter.

Most of Robin’s classes were raucous, yet dull. He could barely hear himself think over the combined clamour of diligent workers and class clowns, and since he could usually glean the answers to any questions from his classmates or the teachers themselves, he never saw much point in trying.

He knew it probably wasn’t great to miss out on the “working out” part of the work, but it was too hard to concentrate even if he’d wanted to. Oscar always helped him with his homework after dinner anyway, so a least he wasn’t going to end up completely lacking in the brain cell department-.. hopefully.

Swimming lessons and PE weren’t so bad, but art was his favourite class of all. Most people got too caught up in what they were doing to daydream noisily or obsess over potentially incorrect answers. There was no right or wrong when it came to creation, and Robin was actually good at drawing, painting, or whatever else his sticky fingers fancied throwing together.

His art teacher even let him wear his headphones during class too, so he’d get to sit at the back of the room in a blissful cocoon of loud music and pencil shavings, wishing every period were this laid back.

All in all, school was utter shite; and at the end of each terrible day when the bell finally rang, Robin was beyond glad that it was over.

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #jude moya #levi sears #we're baaaaaaaaack #i've missed my babies!!#'cept some of em aren't babies anymore #poor lil ginger guy rlly can't be arsed with school.. ough #;-;#twbullying

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withoutyouimsaskia · 5 months ago

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Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 7)

GIF: Originally posted by @kimdokjas

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Nudity. Kissing. Language. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex.

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Hello there! What a long time this chapter has been in the making. There was an entire week where I had limited time and an even more limited internet connection but I promise I haven't abandoned this story. On a less grovelling note, how good is Dead Boy Detectives? Let me know in the comments what your favourite moment was in the show if you've seen it. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

There's sunlight on your face. It filters past your closed eyelids, rousing you unforgivingly from the tranquil dreamscape you had been wandering through.

You frown, a disgruntled yet pitiful noise issuing from the back of your throat.

Did you get in that late last night that you forgot to close your curtains?

It had been a nostalgic dream - a long and winding path that tracked the edge of a cliff that you walked in sturdy brown boots. An aquamarine sea to your right and a multicoloured floral field to your left, the salt and petal scents of both welcomed with each inhale. The bracing air had ruffled the looser sections of your clothes and threaded through your splayed fingers.

Every detail was exactly as it had been in your childhood summer holidays to the coast. Warmth and adventure and fun. Which is precisely why you are reluctant to leave.

You've passed the threshold into waking however and no amount of stubbornness can aid you. To ease your passage, you use the heels of both hands to cover your eyes from the obnoxious light.

The movement shifts the air around you, alerting you to another strange thing: the absence of your pyjamas. You hardly ever slept naked, and definitely not in the winter months. Come to think of it, these were not your sheets either. They felt far too sleek against your bare skin to be your trusty cotton ones…

You freeze.

Whose bed were you in?

Your mind is flailing like someone unable to swim who has fallen into a body of water as you try to remember, adrenal glands preparing you for potential danger with a hefty bloodstream-bound jolt, carried effectively by a stampeding heart rate.

Your eyelids snap open as muscles lock.

More disarray enters the mix when you find the source of the sunshine.

There's a sky above you awash with vibrant pinks and oranges. A couple of clouds drift in front of the burning orb, alleviating the intensity of the sunrise enough that you don't have to squint for long.

How was it possible that you were both outside and lying on a bed? Where the fuck were you?

The recollections finally break through the surface of your memory lake when you see him.

Morpheus.

The King of Dreams and Nightmares. Your soulmate.

Your body relaxes and the rising tension disperses.

His position has changed from the one he had taken before you fell asleep; he now sits beside you, studying you with those gorgeous universe-containing eyes. It's a much less predatory stare than the others previously directed towards you but the power within him is still palpable.

The beauty he possesses is overwhelming too; just like how it did with the night sky and aurora behind him, this sunrise is making him breath-taking. The rosy light is accentuating every inch of skin on show, from the angular features of his face to the toned bare chest that expands and contracts with controlled breaths.

"Good morning my soulmate," he says, his deep voice even huskier from not being used overnight.

"Hi," you reply timidly, gaze forced down by the weight of his.

He doesn't seem to like this shyness for he reaches out, tracing two fingertips in circles above your sternum, right over your soul. You're surprised when there is no pain, in fact, you shiver enjoyably from the simple touch.

You wish the same absence of pain could be said for the lower half of your body.

With much muscular discomfort, you roll onto your side and push yourself to sitting. The majority of it is set deep in your legs, right at the top where your femur bones meet your hip sockets, and radiating through your hamstrings. There are also internal twinges left over from fingering and penetration. The collective tenderness is understandable given all that transpired last night. All the pleasure that had flowed between you, those configurations that your body had never been put into before. Ones you dearly hoped to be put in again soon.

"How long have you been watching me?" You ask teasingly.

"Since you began to sleep."

Your smile falters, worry mounting at the inference that you had kept him awake. Had you been snoring? Twitching? Sleep talking?

You reach for his left hand that rests atop the dark sheets. "You must be exhausted."

That same duo of fingertips brush tantalisingly across your bottom lip. "Your concern is touching, dearest, but I do not require sleep."

"Oh." Your lungs deflate with a whoosh. "I guess that makes sense. People must need dreams all the time."

"Precisely," he praises, his tone smooth and seductive as he cups your face in his hand. "And there are many other ways in which I can find respite and rejuvenation."

He pounces on you then, claiming your mouth with a deep kiss. You go boneless when his tongue slips past the boundary of your pouted lips, enveloping you in his intoxicating warmth.

Morpheus kisses you until you are completely pliant; becoming putty in his talented hands. And when he pulls back, his attention goes straight to your eyes. He looks back and forth between each one like he is checking for something, as if the kiss was his way of dosing you up and he is confirming if it has kicked in.

Your mind certainly feels high enough for it to be true. You stare back at him, his irises become darker and darker the longer you look, until you can see your face reflected in the black-mirror eyes.

You seem different. Not just consumed with lust either. There's something else. A confidence. One more formidable than the type you make use of in your everyday life. It lurks beneath your flushed skin, enlivened by his presence.

Instinct takes over as you slip your arms around him and pull him in for a slow and sensual kiss. From crown to nape your fingers glide through his glossy locks, left even more messy from the activities of last night, and then take a path down his back.

His muscles are steel cables under your palms, conducting heat to pass from his body to yours. You breathe heavily from it as images of your prior shared intimacy flash by like a slideshow, turning you on even further.

Lips part company and Morpheus' mouth is suddenly sucking on your earlobe, pressing on your throat.

You are caught between a whimper and a moan.

"Louder," he commands, the rumbling timbre next to your ear making you obey noisily without conscious thought.

"Good. Again."

He nips at the skin over your jugular and your moan further increases in decibels.

"Such sweet noises," he comments between the open mouthed kisses he is stamping along your collarbones. "All because of how I touch you."

His hands find your breasts next, securing one in each. A firm massage has your back arching to lean further into the cradle of his fingers.

He lets go and leans in to hover over your left breast, his breath unexpectedly cool against your skin. His attention flicks up to your flushed face, to the bottom lip caught between your teeth. You want to further explore this kind of play. Hinting at your desires, you edge closer.

Morpheus' smirk is fiendish and there's such promise in those black eyes yet you want to make sure he follows through.

"Please."

"As you wish, my soulmate."

A drawn out groan warps your vocal cords once he seals his lips over the nipple and lightly takes the other between a thumb and forefinger. More of this too, you decide while he lavishes you with mind bending attentions - rhythmically suckling and pinching until your body is covered in a sheen of sweat and you can barely hold yourself upright. After, Morpheus gathers you into his arms and you delight in his luscious scent as your breathing normalises.

"So that makes you feel rested?" You ask softly.

He strokes over your soul again. "Indeed. It was exceptionally restorative, although I would like more, if you are willing."

The glint in his eyes, a quality becoming all too familiar since your official introduction, swiftly undoes the work you had done to calm your breaths. You consider the tempting notion of sharing more intimacy with him, but cannot ignore the self-care that you missed when you let yourself fall asleep in his hold directly after finishing yesterday.

"I think I need to have a shower before we do anything more. Would you care to join me?"

His pink lips quirk with a semblance of a smile. "I believe it would be counterproductive for me to accompany you, given your goal."

"Suit yourself." You plant a playful kiss on his cheek and throw back the covers with a flourish. Your assured, bouncing movements are soon halted however for you are unaware of where to go next. You peek back over your shoulder.

"Umm, where's the bathroom?"

Morpheus inclines his head towards a door that definitely did not exist a second ago.

"Just through there. I trust you will find everything that you require."

He's not wrong. The well-proportioned ensuite is furnished with everything you could possibly want for cleaning and grooming.

The colour palette of the adjoining chamber extends to touch this room too; predominantly black, with accents of pale stone for smaller details like the mirror frame and the soap dish. The stand out feature is the floor. A black marble with flecks of silver that twinkle like stars under the moody lighting. It's as if you are walking on a night sky.

Firstly, you wash your face first to remove the glowy makeup you had put on especially for the award event, then slide the ruby ring off your finger and leave it on the glossy porcelain of the sink before stepping into the shower cubicle.

You are considerate of the time spent under the water, motivated by the thought of Morpheus sitting naked on the bed not 20 feet away.

You're not ashamed to admit that you are impatient to have him inside of you again. To see that passion and darkness ignited within him. Be consensually dominated and consumed by him. And perhaps try out some other forms of stimulation on him. You decide you will ask more about his desires when you're done in here.

As you dry off using a white, fluffy towel, the rubbing and bending helps to alleviate some of the stiffness - something you know will serve you well when you are back on the bed.

You swap the towel for a bath robe and move to stand in front of the mirror. Using the reflective glass, you brush your teeth and apply some products from the assortment lined up neatly in the wall mounted cupboard.

Cleanliness restored and mood soaring, you open the door to return to your soulmate.

He's sitting on the bed like you had anticipated, however he is no longer naked. Quite the opposite in fact. All of his skin is covered except for his head and hands.

Morpheus stands as soon as he sees you, the manoeuvre showing off the flowing nature of the floor-length coat he has donned. You've never seen a coat quite like it; the sentiment reinforced even further by the constellations that appear to shimmer within its lining. He looks so ethereal and poised in it. Kingly.

Leaning into the formality even further, he clasps his hands in front of his torso and then proceeds to speak.

"I'm afraid that something has arisen that requires my attention. I will have to leave for a while."

"That's alright. Give me two minutes and I'll get dressed and come with you."

You begin to remove the bath robe as you walk towards him, undoing the tie with a quick tug. A shake of his head stops you from shedding the garment entirely.

"That won't be necessary." His hands sneak around your waist to pull you closer. "Your body will still be acclimating to the soul bond. You should rest. Rehydrate. Eat."

He gestures to a cloche covered plate and lidded jug atop a newly conjured bedside table.

Honestly, even though the proverbial wind has been knocked out of your sails, you cannot hold on to that disappointment for very long. The consideration he is showing is very endearing and it's hardly surprising given the dutiful aftercare he provided for you last night.

"Okay. I'll stay here."

He kisses you then, possessively gripping the base of your skull so he can get his fill for the time being.

"I will not be long," he whispers.

He leaves you standing at the foot of the bed.

You go to the bedside table. The metal of the cloche humorously warps your image like the mirrors of a funhouse as you lift it from its position. A platter made of the same material supports a bowl of natural yoghurt topped with tropical fruits and a plate of toast slices slathered with creamy honey.

You don't feel a particular urge to consume either yet decide to do so regardless. It has been a long time since you had last eaten. As you take a bite of the golden bread, you think of all the events that have happened to get you here in this room. The intense encounter that had taken you and Morpheus from strangers to soulmates in a matter of hours.

The forces that had been pushing you towards him - nagging sensations, like a series of itches you couldn't quite reach, making you go outside for a cigarette.

How you had met the beings who had orchestrated the whole thing; the resolve bestowed by their counsel smoothing away your doubts.

His determination to unlock whatever had been dormant within you; in the moment you had been certain that your soul was going to be obliterated, revealed instead to be a rearrangement. Just thinking of it is enough of a push to do as he suggested and rest. You had been through a lot.

After downing a large glass of orange juice decanted from the squat jug, you remove your bath robe. Shadows fall over the bed to block out the mid-morning sun when you tuck yourself back under the covers.

The scent of your soulmate is imbued within the sumptuous fabric, making it all too easy to fall into light sleep, even inspiring a dream while there.

A wet dream.

It's unbearable when you wake. You want Morpheus to come back right away. You want to touch him, to let him touch you. With a frustrated groan, you kick off the covers and redress in the robe, turning your attention to tidying up the pile of your clothes to distract from the horniness. You fold the items neatly and put them in the drawers of the bedside table. The box of cigarettes and lighter, you stash under the coat.

It's no use, not in the long term; you are irreversibly riled up, heat stirring agonisingly between your legs so when you hear Morpheus opening the door you pretty much run across the room to him.

You can see from the lust in his eyes that he is as affected as you.

"I saw your dream, my soulmate," he says intensely as he draws you into his personal space. "You have quite the imagination."

Your cheeks burn with equal parts lust and embarrassment.

His body heat is just as feverish - the ferocity of it permeating through your bath robe makes the fabric feel much thinner than it actually is.

He leans to whisper by your ear. "Would you like to make it a reality?"

Your knees go weak, at the question and the ghost-like touches of his words against the shell of your ear.

"Yes. Morpheus, please."

He captures your lips with a bruising kiss, simultaneously baring your body and his own using a mix of confident movements and form shaping.

You secure your hands on his shoulders in readiness, only breaking the kiss so you can jump into his arms. He then spins you around so your ass meets the polished wood of the door.

Broken groans echo around the chamber as Morpheus makes the dream fully come to life, filling you with a fluid thrust.

His eyes are circles of night sky while he waits for you to adjust, redistributing your weight ever so slightly so he can press his palm over your soul.

It remains there until you both reach climax.

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

Morpheus cleans you like he did before and then you recline side by side on the bed.

"Do you feel happy?" He asks with sudden seriousness while stroking the skin made taut by the spasming muscles of your thighs.

You would have thought it been obvious from the size of the giddy grin on your face yet you play along anyway. "Yes."

"And safe?"

"Of course, Morpheus." You reassuringly interlink your fingers with his, adding, "You could just cheat, you know?"

His chin tilts up, lips pouting. "I could, however I prefer to hear you confirm it out loud."

You laugh.

Saccharine. That is how this moment feels with the post-orgasm tingles and the endearing nature of his statement. He is utterly perfect for you.

You brush a probing fingertip over his soul.

"I still can't feel your emotions."

It is his turn to squeeze your hand comfortingly. "It's been less than a day."

You nod, casting away the despondent thought entirely by asking a subject changing question.

"What would you like to do now?"

He answers immediately, "I would like to stay right here."

You consider this, your focus shifting away from his face, up over his shoulder to the exit.

"What if someone needs you, comes looking for you? There are people out there, right?"

You're fishing for details, blatantly so, but you cannot deny that you are intrigued by the kingdom beyond the door that you had just so energetically fucked against.

Morpheus shifts to block your line of sight, possessively cupping your face in one of his dexterous hands.

"No one can find us here. We will not be interrupted, and I can sense when something is amiss."

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

Days pass in a similar fashion. You wake under an invigorating sunrise with your soulmate's blown-iris gaze fixed on your face. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, generating shudders of arousal, in turn propelling you to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You wash and brush your teeth and go back to Morpheus. He fucks you until you can barely move and then leaves you for a few hours while you, in his words: 'rest'.

With your appetite still stunted you cajole yourself into eating and drinking, and wait for Morpheus to return, whereupon you fuck again.

It's a honeymoon phase you reason initially, but when the pattern shows signs of sustaining, when it reaches a week without leaving his chambers you decide to take action.

You had stopped asking if you could accompany him on his mysterious errands after the third rebuttal; perhaps a mistake on your part. And with the emotional connection between you still a no-show from your end, there is no other way of finding out why your partner keeps saying no.

You ask for a slower session. One that won't render you completely exhausted and aching, and therefore physically able to go with him. Not that you disclose this as a reason. You don't need to give any; Morpheus obliges, all too willing to please you.

His zealousness makes you feel guilty for your quasi-deception but something really is afoot. You cannot ignore it any longer.

The sex is euphoric. Beautiful. He brings you to the edge of tears with his gentleness, drawing several orgasms from you. There's even enough time for you to stimulate him with your hands and mouth - something you had been longing to do since the first night.

After, your question waits in the wings as you cuddle. His demeanour is a twin of yours, relaxed and satiated. The way his blue eyes stare at you, it's pure adoration you see in them. Surely he cannot deny you this time.

An hour elapses and then Morpheus stands, clothes appearing on his lithe frame. He announces his intentions.

"There are duties that I must attend to."

You sit up and say with a smile, "Please can I come with you this time?"

"No."

His terse reply is so far removed from the blissful look that had been written all over his perfect features seconds prior that your stomach drops along with your smile.

"Why not?" Your voice is unexpectedly small.

He zones in on this vocal change. "You seem troubled, Y/N."

If you were to be totally transparent, you would tell him that this scenario was starting to bear many of the signs of an abduction. It takes you a good thirty seconds to summon the courage to reply; not wanting to offend nor sadden your soulmate.

You huff out a nervous laugh. "I can't help feeling a little kidnapped."

His eyebrows narrow a fraction. "I did tell you that I would bring you to the Dreaming."

"Okay, how about I re-phrase that. I feel kind of trapped here."

"Are these chambers not to your liking?"

That burgeoning sense of nausea is starting to run deeper. He is deflecting. Expertly so.

You point at the door. "What I don't like is that there is a whole world out there and you seem determined to keep me from it."

The temperature in the room dips as the ceiling-sky sun is blocked out by a conglomerate of greying clouds.

"It is not safe for you outside this room," he says with a controlled cadence.

"I don't believe that. I know for a fact that you are one of the most powerful beings in the universe. What is the real reason you don't want me to accompany you?"

"Because it is not your place to do so."

You blink in shock.

The sweetness of the recent lovemaking is long gone, a bitter taste taking its place. You attempt to translate the subtext of that last statement: Not your place?

Is it because you are human? Does he think you are lesser than him?

You need to hear it from his lips.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He swallows, a fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

"I need to leave."

He's moving towards the door with quick strides. You're out of the bed, throwing on the bath robe as you desperately try to find a way to keep him talking.

"What if I had refused to go with you that night?"

No sooner are the words out your mouth, does the sky above you turn black. Morpheus spins around, eyes equally as dark as he coolly states, "Then you would have suffered."

He stands squarely in front of the door.

"You felt a semblance of it. The instant I touched your skin with mine. Even if you had protested, I would have brought you here regardless. It was imperative that I complete the ritual, and it had to be done in the Dreaming where my power is at its most potent."

Potent power indeed, for there are pulsing shadows leading away from his boot clad feet despite the absence of a sun to cast them. Never before have you been so aware of his preternatural identity. He's Eldritch personified; you suppress the flicker of fear it kindles.

"Your soul would have kept screaming, driving you to insanity. I protected you. Just as I am trying to protect you now by locking you in here."

The repellent taste of bile spews into your dry mouth. He said locked in.

You try a last ditch attempt to appeal to the softer nature that you know is within him, reaching for his hand.

"I just want to help people. Help you, your kingdom, your dreamers. The Fates said I would."

"Is that what they told you?" He says derisively, a dark smile stretching his lips as silver flashes in those nightmarish eyes. "I am disgusted that they gave you such a fantasy."

It would have taken an army's worth of self-control to not shrink away from him with that display. You drop his hand.

In that moment, as he blocks you from getting to the door of your cage, it occurs to you that despite the physical proximity, that this is furthest you have felt from him since he took your hand on that rain covered street.

It's as if a crevasse has opened up between you, leaving you standing on either side. So far apart. The risk of falling into the frozen chasm making it too frightening for you to try and reach him. Not that he would let you.

You know it as soon as he says his next sentence, his tone as flat as the emotion in his eyes.

"You should rest. I will return later."

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

"Cause they watch us in sleep. And the language that we speak. And the secrets that we keep to ourselves in our dreams, in our dreams."

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riaki · 11 months ago

Text

knitted hearts | kento nanami x reader

pt.3 of christmas event! i wrote this for u genie ily 🤍 cw: established relationship, he (over)works at that financing company from before, two (2) petnames

the lights are still on.

that's the first thing kento immediately notices when he gets back; the office clocked him overtime, and so he's late. regrettably, again.

in the past, whenever that's happened, he'd have sent you a text beforehand and came home to a dark apartment; eaten something quick before getting into bed and slipping beneath the soft covers where your resting warmth melts away the stress of the day between his shoulders and his eyebrows.

tonight is different, it seems. the city buzzes with a quiet hum, light snowfall blanketing the roofs and muffling the sound. the holiday season is in full swing; normally, he wouldn't care to know. or remember. if not for the lame decorations around his workplace and the chocolate advent calendar you've been diligently (force) feeding him every night, he wouldn't've noticed at all.

he closes the door quietly behind him, careful not to make excess noise in case you're asleep as he slips his shoes off and hangs his jacket up. after all, you might've just been absentminded or tired, and forgot to switch the lights off. and you blame him for being lost to time.

it's quiet in the house; not dead silent, though. there's soft, ambient winter jazz flowing from somewhere in the house, and the faint sound of the fridge humming, paired with something that's baking in the oven. the scent of soft vanilla and orange settles gently over his shoulders, as if to welcome him home. his half finished coffee sits in a porcelain mug on the stained counter; you'd accidentally made too much for him, leaving you with a puddle of bitter caffeine that couldn't even be finished with your combined efforts. you'd promised him you would chug it over text, but clearly that didn't happen.

he's ready to go through the motions of a quiet night spent unwinding alone when he hears your voice— after endless hours of aching at a desk, clacking away on a mechanical keyboard in the dreariest environment imaginable, it soothes him like no vacation fantasy he's ever known.

"nami? is that you?" you called. your voice is coming from the shared bedroom; you sound tired, and kento can just imagine the sleepy look on your face. he's never been inclined to use the words 'cute' or 'pretty' to describe someone before, but if he had to choose, then he'd use them for you.

he walks down the length of the hallway, undoing his tie and gently tugging it off his neck as he reaches the threshold to your room. the air is warm and soft; it seems so much easier to breathe the closer you are. like the crushing weight of work he puts on his lungs dissipates into a cloud of melting frost.

"i'm home, sweetheart." he's surprised at how rough his own voice sounds; it's almost unfamiliar. he needs your rejuvenating touch; at least, that's what he decides the instant he sees you. you're sitting right in the middle of the mattress, something lumpy, tacky, red and green bundled up in your lap. with something between a sinking realization and a fluttering in his chest he recognizes it as the sweater you've been making for him. you're finishing it up, it seems, from the formerly-wide bundle of soft thread that's been reduced to a meek little crimson string on the white sheets.

it's one of your new interests. you seem to be taking up a lot of those, lately; kento feels as though it's his fault, for never having the time to take you out. yet you're always so patient despite his busy schedule, adjusting to portion out a chunk of time from your own just to accommodate for him. it's unfair, and so one night he vowed to do more for you over a glass of red wine and a fancy white table cloth, freshly cleaned and pressed. that was one of the rare times he'd been able to take you out like you really deserved. "and don't call me by my last name. you're allowed to use my given," he sighs, rather exasperated, but you both know there's only affection behind it.

you perk up, a bright look in your eyes that melts the last of the frost buried in his chest and beneath his eyes. he crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt a few to let himself breathe. and he doesn't miss the way your eyes linger, so he clears his throat, and you spring to action.

"i finished your sweater, ken. can you put it on?" you ask eagerly, and he's briefly reminded of a young boy with pink hair like raspberry chocolate and a golden retriever demeanor. a soft feeling pushes at the back of his heart, sending mushy gushiness through his veins at the sight.

you scoot close, holding it up for him to examine. in all honesty, it's not terrible; you get an A for effort, at the very least. the five reindeer look more like those urban folklore creatures, and the tree looks as though it could use seven more centuries under the sun-- but other than that, it's a perfect first try.

"i'd love to, darling, but i..." he doesn't get to finish, because you seem to wilt a little, and it already feels like that crushing burden over his diaphragm is back, but this time it's exceedingly and guiltily unpleasant, so he retracts his words.

"alright." he succumbs with a tired sigh, letting his eyes flutter shut and removing his glasses to rub the spot where the frame has been digging into his skin; normally you'd do it for him, but you're busy adjusting the fluffy pom poms (he didn't see those before) on the sweater's cuffs, so he does it himself.

he hears the tell tale shift of the soft bedding and he opens his eyes again, only to be met with a very expectant look on your face.

"put your hands up."

"...pardon?" a small amount of resistance to your antics is always present, at first. by now he knows you expect it. but this time, it may be much worse.

"you heard me! arms to the sky." he likes your laugh, a lot. it jingles like a gentle wind chime.

"i can put it on myself. i'm not a child," he says, a little cross, but you're undeterred. as per usual. not like he minds.

"please?"

kento doesn't particularly view himself as a man with a great many ambitious, or zealous ideals. still, he isn't a pushover and has a strong resolve. unfortunately for him (fortunately for you), when it comes to you, it doesn't take much for him to crumble. if you willed it, he'd get down at your feet.

with resignation, he kneels down on one leg, as if you're about to knight him. he waits patiently, holding his arms up, and he can practically feel your giddy smile.

soon enough, you're slipping it over his tangled blonde hair— with a little bit of effort and a lot of scratchy fabric. it's too big here and too tight there, hanging off his shoulders oddly and the sleeves are uneven. but it's cute, too-- in the way that a toddler's crayon doodles are endearing, so are your amateur efforts. what matters to him the most, is that you've handmade it for him.

nothing an industry company factory could achieve.

"so? how do you like it?" you prompt as you start to mess with the collar, pinching and pulling the fabric so that it suits his form appropriately. he doesn't ever remember you asking for his size, but you seem to know it anyway.

"it's warm," is his only input. he knows you'll complain— but it's fun to hear you whine.

you frown. "is that all?" there it is— a small, sweet little pout; the minute down tilt of your lips. your fingers dance over his collarbone as you pull the collar of his button up over the rim, and his breath hitches in his throat. kento wonders if you can feel his heartbeat or notice the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

before you— or he— knows it, he's pulling you down to sit on the knee that's still propped up, catching you by the rest and meeting you halfway to press a gentle kiss to your lips. he's met with a muffled sound of surprise that quickly melts into a laugh; he can feel you smile against his lips and he wants to devour it.

"so i take it you like it?" you whispered as you lean in, hands leaving the unwieldy sweater to thread through his hair, messing it up to your heart's content after he slicked it to the side. you taste sweet, like chocolate and caramel-- he must've missed the advent sweet for today.

his only response is a small hum— you can feel the vibration, so you chuckle again and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away breathless from the kiss to knock your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. there's an undeniable well of warmth behind your gorgeous irises; if he had the time, he'd get himself lost in them.

"good, because i have socks on the backburner and you'll be getting a scarf next."

whenever the lights are off, kento knows you've gone to bed already, without him. but he thinks he could get used to scratchy, hand-knit clothing if it means they'll always be on and waiting for him after a long day of dreaming in front of a desk, all about your smile.

not proofread my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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