#❝... what are you staring at?❞﹙ic.﹚

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall. 

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him? 

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis. 

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck. 

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What. 

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him. 

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page. 

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead. 

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze. 

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows. 

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it. 

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with  overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss. 

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there... 

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking. 

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her. 

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily. 

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there. 

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.  She was simply...stunning. 

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible. 

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.  

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word. 

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring. 

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this? 

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck. 

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back. 

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words. 

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath. 

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows. 

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth. 

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows. 

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word. 

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

[somestarsburntoobrightly]

I love when this post comes around again.

Also, I visit Quebec often and my french is ABYSMAL. I can read it fine, and kinda understand others a bit if they talk slow enough, but actually saying the words? Forget it.

Still some people are aholes about it but a lot of people will do their best to try to work with you. Or better yet: teach you. So when I say I died laughing at the 'un sac' story it's because it is one of the only things in french that I will always know how to say and never forget the meaning of because that many cashiers have explained it to me.

Also one time I was trying to find ice and I went around the grocery at least 5 times trying to find it. No dice. So, I approached an employee. First one french only, second one french only and I don't know why I didn't just pull out my phone and show them the french word, but they knew I needed help so they went and got a third employee...also no english so idk what any of us were thinking that day. At this point though, I'm desperate and my Spanish is miles better then my french so I say "¿Hablas Español?".

Ladies and gentleman, he was so excited I'd asked. I was so excited this was going to work out. Neither of us were fluent but I was confident we'd do okay.

He says "¿Que estás buscando?" I say "Estoy buscando-" and I could not for the life of me remember the word for ice. I know I know this word for absolute certain but cannot for the life of me remember it. So I said "lo siento... no recuerdo la palabra...uhhhhhh. Oh! Helado sin leche"(Ice cream no milk).

Blank stare, because yeah that was not the most clear. So I tried again "uhhhh...agua está frio. muy, muy, muy frio."

He says "¿Quieres hielo?"

I goddamn facepalmed.

Thanks to his impressive comprehension, he goes into the back and brings me my bag of ice. I thank him profusely, he thanks me for practicing. And now I will never forget that word again.

for chinese new year they get all these famous actors and comedians together and they do a lil show and one of the comedians was like “i was in a hotel in america once and there was a mouse in my room so i called reception except i forgot the english word for mouse so instead i said ‘you know tom and jerry? jerry is here’

[amazinglyashy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?

(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)

Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3

LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street

Xavier -

He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.

There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.

He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.

So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.

He can't help it.

He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-

And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?

You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.

Zayne -

Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.

He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.

He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.

You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.

If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-

Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.

Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.

Rafayel -

He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.

If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.

He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.

The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.

He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.

He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-

And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.

Sylus -

I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.

Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-

But you knew.

You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.

For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.

No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.

Just a bit.

Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.

"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."

[wonderjanga]

Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring

Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)

Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.

Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.

Then, there was this kid.

Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*

Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”

Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”

Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*

Little Girl: *shrugs*

Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”

Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”

Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”

Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*

Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”

Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”

Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*

Little Girl: “You did?”

Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”

Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”

Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”

Little Girl: “That’s sad.”

Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”

Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”

Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”

Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”

Marvel: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”

Little Girl: “Really?”

Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”

Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”

Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”

Little Girl: “Huh?”

Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”

Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*

Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”

Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*

Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*

Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”

Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”

Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”

Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”

Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”

So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.

Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.

[daisymbin]

promise me ice cream! - jeon wonwoo

warnings: slightly insecure wonwoo?

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: drunk confessions, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve 223 of yall following me but thank you 🥺

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

your best friend, wonwoo is sprawled on the bed, looking more like a puddle of drunk affection than his usual composed self. he's clinging onto you, he wedges your leg in between his own; hugging it like it was a bolster as his head rests on your lap as if it were a pillow, his arms wrapped around your leg, not wanting to let go as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his gaze is hazy, eyes blinking slowly as he stares up at you, his lips curving into a drunken smile, “you're so pretty.” he says as you chuckle while you run your hands through his hair; messaging his head a little to relieve the potential headache.

“why'd you drink so much tonight?” you asked, “its not like you, you're not usually like this.” wonwoo lets out a deep sigh at your question, “you were talking to jun all night and…i dont know, i just didn't like it. i got jealous. it's like…you’ll never pick me.” he says with a pout, eyes closing shut. “jealous? of jun?” you frown, trying to make sense of his words. if only he knew, “don't be silly, you know i talk to jun all the time but you'll always be my best friend. there's nothing to be jealous about.” you reassured. “& i’ll always pick you.”

“you're breaking my heart.” wonwoo mumbles so soft, you almost would have missed it if it weren't for a drunk wonwoo clinging onto you for dear life, heightening all your senses & leaving your heart beating so fast. “what do you mean, wonwoo?” 

"you’re my favorite person," he says, his voice soft and slow, like he’s trying to convince himself of something. "i don’t know if i’ll ever be your favorite, but... you're my favorite." his hand gently strokes the inside of your thigh, sending shiver down your spine. his fingers light against your skin as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of being this close.

you smile as you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. you’re a little amused yet also, a little taken aback by the way he’s acting; he's never been like this. you gently run your fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to sleep even though you're sure he’s already half asleep. & maybe you're also just taking advantage of the situation and being a little selfish; having him like this.

"i’m just me," he continues, voice drowsy and laced with alcohol. "i’m just wonwoo, you know? just regular, plain ol' wonwoo. but you're... you're perfect. sparkly. i don’t even know why you ever looked my way years ago, let alone be friends with me.”

you laugh softly, but it’s mixed with a hint of sadness, wondering how he could ever think that about himself. "you’re not just wonwoo, you know that, right? you’re more than that."

wonwoo shakes his head, but his grip on your leg tightens. "no, no, no. i’m just me. i’m just wonwoo, and you’re... you’re so pretty and you're so kind. you're such a good person...so much better than I'll ever be. that's why you would never like someone like me."

his words sting more than they should, but you can tell he's too drunk to mean them fully, right? that's what you hoped for at least. you want to tell him how wrong he is, how much you care for him, but instead, you sit in the quiet, letting him speak his mind as he clings onto you, his drunken ramblings the only thing filling the space between you two.

after a moment, he sits up a little, his gaze suddenly lighting up with a burst of energy. "ice cream," he says, as if it’s the most important thing in the world right now. "we should go on an ice cream date. right now. let’s go."

you glance at him, blinking in surprise at the sudden contrast. it’s already past 4AM and he’s drunk, this is not the time for an ice cream run date. "wonwoo," you say softly, trying to get him to focus. "it’s really late. we’re not going for ice cream right now, okay?"

he looks up at you with wide, sad, hopeful eyes, and you can’t help but find it endearing, even if it’s a little ridiculous. "why not?" he asks, his pout deepening, and his grip on your leg tightening again as he drags himself impossibly closer to you. "i want to go on an ice cream date with you, please?” 

you laugh, though it's full of affection and fondness. "wonwoo, you’re drunk & it’s really late. we’re not going anywhere. you can’t go out for ice cream right now, I don't think you can even walk straight, did you forget how I had to haul you back here?"

he pouts even harder, his lower lip trembling slightly & he almost look as if he’s about to start crying any time as he sits back and crosses his arms, looking like a grumpy child. "but i want ice cream. now. i’m hungry."

you can’t help but smile at his stubbornness. "we’ll go tomorrow, okay?" you promise. "i’ll take you out on an ice cream date tomorrow. I'll even let you pick all the flavours you want, even if its 5 of them."

wonwoo tilts his head to the side, staring at you with a suspicious frown. "tomorrow? don’t lie…i’m only asking you now because… this is a dream, you wouldnt reject me in my dream, would you?" he asks, his voice filled with doubt. "because i know you won’t really take me for ice cream tomorrow when I wake up. you don’t like me like that. you’re just humoring me."

"wonwoo, i promise, tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream," you reassure him, your voice gentle and warm as you stroke his hair again, trying to comfort him.

but wonwoo still looks disappointed and doubtful, his shoulders slump. "tomorrow will never come. this is all a dream. you’ll wake up, and i’ll be... i’ll be just me. plain wonwoo. i won’t be good enough for you. you will never pick me.”

your heart aches at the way he’s talking. he doesn’t believe that you like him, doesn’t believe in this moment, in the promise of tomorrow. "wonwoo, i’m not going anywhere," you say, taking his hand in yours. "i'll be right here when you open your eyes when the sun rises & i'll tell you all the reasons why you're more than enough. i really do like you, I love you, and tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream. i promise."

he looks down at your hand, still not fully convinced. "promise?" he asks, his voice small and fragile.

"promise," you say firmly, hands finding his as you lock your pinky around his.

wonwoo hesitates for a moment, then sighs, his expression softening. "okay...okay," he murmurs, closing his eyes as he rests his head back on your lap, your hands instinctively go back to playing with his hair, he's completely content now. "ice cream date tomorrow. i’ll wait for tomorrow...even if it doesn't happen it's okay..at least im laying on your lap now…at least you’re playing with my hair now…at least now i know what it's like to hear you say you like me too.”

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, watching him drift off to sleep in your lap. even though he’s drunk and unsure, you know he believes you somewhere deep down. & tomorrow, you’ll take him for ice cream, just like you promised. and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, he’ll realize how much you really do care about him, & how much you really do love him.

[dollyhyuckii]

FALLING IN LOVE WITH MINGYU

mingyu! x fem!reader ⋆୨୧˚

wc—934 ⋆୨୧˚

cw-kissing, everything is lowercase on purpose ⋆୨୧˚

an-please remember make sure to vote!!(i really like how this came out so I hope you all enjoy! reblogs and likes really help!!) ⋆୨୧˚

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆

you and mingyu have known each other for years, and everyone always thought you two would make a cute couple. but you both always shrugged it off as just being “best friends.” one afternoon, as the two of you sit in the park, you catch yourself staring at him. you had no idea why, but your heart started racing, and your mind goes completely blank when mingyu looks over.

“are you okay?” he asks, smirking.

you stammers, “uh, yeah, i just… i don’t know why, but every time i look at you, my brain just kind of… blanks out.” you laugh nervously. “i think I’m going a little crazy.”

mingyu chuckles and nudges your shoulder playfully. “well, you’re always a little crazy.”

but your heart skips a beat, and you wonder if maybe it’s something more.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

that evening, you both were sitting at your kitchen counter, eating ice cream straight from the tub. mingyu tells a silly joke, one that’s not even that funny, but you finding yourself laughing. it’s a little laugh that catches you off guard, and you can’t help but shake your head in disbelief. how did he become so endearing?

mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “what’s with that sigh?”

“nothing,” you say, smiling softly. “you’re just…”

he raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but you just shake your head. you realized you couldn’t explain it without sounding ridiculous.

୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

a few weeks pass, and you and mingyu are walking home from a late movie. it’s one of those perfect nights, stars scattered across the sky. out of nowhere, you blurted out, “this is really awkward, but i know i told you i wasn’t looking for love… but i kinda fell in love.”

mingyu stops in his tracks, his eyes widening. “with… who?”

you shrug, playing it cool, trying to mask your embarrassment. “i don’t know… maybe you?”

the look in his eyes softens, and you feel a flicker of hope. “well,” he says quietly, “maybe i’d take

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

the next time you both are together, your studying at a coffee shop. it’s one of those cozy, rainy days, and mingyu is buried in his book. you looks over at him, feeling your heart swell, and you suddenly blurt out, “can i love you?”

mingyu blinks, taken aback. he slowly looks up from his book, and a small smile plays on his lips. “i think… i’d really like that”

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

it’s a lazy sunday, and your both sprawled out on mingyu couch watching tv. you rests your head on his shoulder, feeling a surge of warmth you can’t explain. without thinking, you murmured, “i just… adore you.”

mingyu turns his head slightly, his face close to yours. he whispers back, “i adore you too.” you both share a quiet moment, neither of you needing to say anything more.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ you both decide to go on a spontaneous road trip. it’s late, and mingyu is yawning every few minutes as he drives. you notices his eyes drooping and says, “hey, pull over. i can take over for you.”

he looks at you, grateful but reluctant. “are you sure? you haven’t slept either.”

you nodded, determined. “i want you to be safe.”

as you drive, you glance over to see him sleeping soundly beside you. you smile, your heart fluttering at how peaceful he looks.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ back home, you tried to convince yourself that you were not really in love with mingyu. you mutters to yourself, “no, i’m not in love with him. i mean, yes, thinking about hurting him makes me want to throw myself into traffic, but that doesn’t mean anything, right?”

your friends laugh, but they knew deep down that  you were not fooling anyone, least of yourself .

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

one evening, your both watching a movie on your couch. you had fell asleep halfway through, your head drooping onto his shoulder. he smiles softly, reaching for the throw blanket nearby and draping it over you. he adjusts himself to make sure you were comfortable, realizing just how much he cares for you.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

one night, as you two were camping under the stars, you thought mingyu had

fallen asleep. you let out a sigh and whispered, “i think i might be in love with you, mingyu.” you feel a weight lift from your chest, assuming he can’t hear you .

but to your surprise, mingyu shifts and murmurs, “i might be in love with you too.” you freeze , your heart racing, as he reaches out to hold your hand.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

the next day, your back home, sitting on your porch. you both talk about everything and nothing, but somehow, the conversation drifts to the relationship. without thinking, you lean in and kiss him, soft and slow. when the both of you pull back, mingyu looks stunned.

you laughed nervously, stepping back. “um, okay. yeah, that’s not a normal kiss. i definitely love you.”

he grins, pulling you close again. “good, because i love you too.”

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

after months of tiptoeing around the feelings, mingyu finally calls you to meet at your favorite park. when you arrive, he looks nervous, fidgeting with his hands.

“i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this,” he says softly. i love you,. more than i ever thought possible.”

you feel tears prick in your eyes as you smile , stepping into his arms. “i love you too, mingyu. i think i always have.”

your friendship gradually blossoms into something more, filled with quiet, tender moments and unspoken confessions. and as you both walk hand in hand, you both realize that sometimes, the best love stories start as friendships.

.୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚ .୨୧⋆ ˚

[bomber-grl]

What being their crush is like

Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)

Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha

Naruto Uzumaki

An absolute fool for you

The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy

Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team

If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him

(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)

He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor

Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)

He’d be so open about liking you

Well, when he’s not around you

He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in

And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental

Like what

Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage

Literally +1000 points

Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you

How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date

If you are even slightly hesitant to respond

Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off

Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what

Then one day you end up accepting

Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine

[insert you going home and finding it]

Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly

But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless

If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off

It’s up to you to break the ice

Sakura Haruno

Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness

It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character

She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating

You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people

That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-

She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces

Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything

E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help

Maybe a little too willing at times

Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter

Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you

It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)

Either way you’re catching strays

Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when

Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match

It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her

She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it

When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too

I can’t even deny that

Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)

And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments

Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small

Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf

Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts

And she does

She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto

She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there

If you like her back and know it- that’s that

But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept

Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it

Sasuke Uchiha

He acts super neutral towards you

Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon

He’s sasuke

So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you

Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever

(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)

He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent

It’s honestly confusing sometimes

When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it

(Or so he tells himself)

He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you

Like not even joking

But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare

And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto

Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff

(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are

Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival

Again, super confusing.

The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something

Then he’d walk away

You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks

He ain’t fooling nobody

He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -

Yea.

So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess

Not likely

Which is what you thought

Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really

It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else

It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room

You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you

You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser

Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out

It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing

He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long

Just a few lines (if any)

There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said

Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it

-

A/n: got a tad carried away

[lou-struck]

At the Top

Keigo Takami/ Hawks x reader

W.C~ 2k

~ Your date at the Fair turns from a questionable experience to a full-blown disaster when you and your online date get stranded at the top of the Ferris Wheel.

With the fair in town, you thought that spending the afternoon eating ridiculously sounding fair food, playing games, and riding the rides sounded like a picture-perfect first-date idea. But that's the problem with being a romantic.

You tend to get your hopes up…

"So… Are you having a good time so far?" the man sitting across from you asks for the 9th time this evening. The two of you had matched on a dating app a few weeks ago, and after many late nights of texting that filled your stomach with butterflies and heart with hope, you finally took the step and asked if he would like to actually go out.

But the evening has been less than ideal. Your date, although good-looking, clearly has some serious baggage from his last relationship that even your 'I can fix him' mindset wants to turn away from. 

He has refused to go on ride after ride after ride with you, claiming that he and his friends rode all of them last year and thought they were just a waste of time. And he turned his nose up at any of the mouthwateringly atrocious fair food you wanted to try out and dragged you to the only place on the fairgrounds that sold smoothie bowls, which may be delicious, but they are something you could eat any other day whilst cheddar cheese flavored ice cream is not.

You try to hide your frown as you spin the deep purple, soupy concoction with your spoon as you stare across at your dark haired date and tell him what you think is a convincing lie, "Yes, I'm having a great time. Thank you for the acai bowl."

"Don't mention it," he chuckles, wiping his berry-dusted chin with his sleeve. "I'm glad I was able to find us something in this place that was organic. All that deep-fried garbage they sell at the other stalls is repulsing."

"Maybe," you say, stirring your bowl even more, really not wanting to engage in any kind of debate with this guy. You take a bite of your bowl, and while it is good, you hate that it costs the same as half a tank of gas. 

Luckily, your date paid for that. 

Just getting up and leaving is always an option, but there is still hope that things can turn around, or at least you'll have a decent bad date story to tell your friends when the night is over.

"How about we go on the Ferris wheel?" he says at last, boredly scraping the button of his paper bowl with his spoon. 

"Really?" you say, thankful that you are finally able to go on one freaking ride on this date. Maybe you were being too critical of your date…

"Why not?" he says, "I didn't go on that one yet."

oh…

~

When you like someone, the idea of being wedged together on the Ferris wheel is something straight out of a romance movie, But when the already little spark of attraction you are feeling for your date has been drowned and smothered by the murky waters of his overflowing ego, the act is tortuous. 

Despite the little legroom in your pod, your date has decided to take up most of it with his wide stance; his obvious manspreading gets more and more stifling as you rise slowly into the air. The multicolored light bulbs of the wheel flicker, and you wonder briefly if that is normal.

It's getting a bit cold up here, isn't it?" he asks with a sly smile. It's honestly not cold at all; in fact, the warm air is kinda stuffy. Before you can say anything, his arm slings over your shoulder, and you dig your nails into your palm; it doesn't feel right; you know how you feel when you are attracted to someone, and this is not it.

The flash of a camera phone catches your attention and you blink away the spots in your vision. 

"Oh, that's perfect," he chuckles, looking at the selfie he just took of the both of you. "I'll send it to you and we can set it for our lock screens."

"Don't you think it's a little soon for that?" you ask, now wondering what kinda psycho you are trapped on this ride with.

"Hey, when you know you know Baby Cakes," he says with an almost hallmark channel level of confidence as he looks at the photo with a delusional smile. "Oh, we look great. I gotta send this photo to my Mom; she is gonna love you."

"Oh… how nice," you say dryly. You feel sick… in that moment, you decide that when you touch down on solid ground, you are going to get the hell out of dodge and take a cab home and leave this guy in the dust.  

The ride reaches its peak, and you sigh; at least you only have a few minutes left of this tortuous experience.  

"Hey, have you ever kissed someone at the top of a Ferris wheel before?" he asks, leaning in close. 

"Not really my thing," you say, scooting as far away from him as you can. But in the little car, you can't really go far. 

"Oh come on, don't be so shy, y/n, I don't ~" he starts to say when the ride suddenly jolts to a stop. Your little pod rocking back and forth."

"What was that?" he asks, getting a bit out of your bubble to look around. His lack of proximity makes you sigh in relief before realizing that you are stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel with this dude. 

Hopefully he doesn't try anything…

"Oh my god, oh my god, we're gonna die," he says, completely freaking out. "This is all your fault, y/n." He glares at you with tears streaming down your face as snot pours from his nose as he rocks the cart back and forth. 

You are speechless and have no idea what to do at this moment. All you can hope is that your date won't pee himself next to you in this little pod. 

You look down at the pavement; at least if you fall, you won't have to deal with this guy anymore…

Suddenly, a red feather whizzes by your face. You follow it with your eyes. Turning your head, you come face-to-face with the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

Bright golden eyes staring into yours warmly from behind a yellow visor. Crimson wings beat softly in the air. "Hey there, you look like you could use a hand."

"H-hawks." Your date says addressing the pro hero. "Thank God you're here. Please get me down."

"No problem, folks, I'll get you down; it looks like that machine down there is a little jammed, so you'll have to bear with me." His feathers harden as they whittle away at the steel safety harness that keeps you trapped in the air. 

"Now, don't move, all right? I had to cut the beam to get you guys out of here, so hang tight in those seat belts." He looks at you and holds out a hand. "how about I start with you? Wanna get back on solid ground?"

You smile. "So badly." His hand has a pleasant warmth through it, but right before a hero can gently take you out of your seat. The bench starts to swing rapidly.

"No!" your date screams, unbuckling his seatbelt. "don't take them, take me." he stands and lunges towards the Pro Hero, only to be halted in the air by a cluster of feathers latching to his clothing. 

His arm pushes you off balance, and you slip, letting out a yelp as you wonder if this is the end. Frightfully, you imagine yourself becoming one with the pavement below, the worst end to the worst date of your life. 

Strong arms are quick to grab you, and you are pulled into the safety of the winged hero's chest. "Don't worry, I gotcha," he says softly; the world beneath you makes your head spin. "Hey… Don't look down, you're safe. What's your name?" 

The unwavering care in his voice calms you, and you answer. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the feathers bringing your date down to the ground and setting him on the pavement with an unceremonious plop.

"Serves him right," you mutter, "This has been the worst first date of my life."

"Don't tell me there's gonna be a second." He jokes as his feathers start to free the other passengers, setting them on the ground; he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and winks, "Just between you and me, I think you can do way better than that guy."

Your cheeks heat under the hero's surprisingly flirty banter, and you realize that you are still nestled comfortably in his arms, high above the ground. But instead of feeling worried, you feel strangely comfortable. Your stomach seems to flutter as you are brought down to earth. 

"There you go," he says gently, placing you on solid ground. Although you are safe and sound, you can't help but feel a little disappointed that your short time with the Pro hero has to end so soon. 

"Thank you for helping me out up there," you say, remembering your manners. 

"It was my pleasure," he says; his golden gaze flickers from you to behind you and narrows. "Hey, I hope I'm not crossing a line or anything, but it looks like you may need a bit more saving." He gestures over to your still-sniveling date, who doesn't seem to notice you at all. 

"Ugh, where were you three hours ago?" you chuckle dryly. 

Your little comment sends him into a fit of laughter so hard he has to remove his visor to wipe tears from his eyes. "Sorry, I guess that saving your life was the best I could do."

"And you call yourself a hero," you shake your head and fight the smile on your lips. 

"Can I make it up to you?" he asks earnestly. "My patrol ends in a few, so I could take you home or somewhere else, maybe grab some food."

Your brain shorts out for a moment as you are shocked by this unexpected turn of events. 

Is he flirting with you?

This is Hawks, one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and he is offering to take you to get food.

"It seems like you are going above and beyond the call of duty," you comment, watching as he tucks his wings to his back. 

"Well, it just seems right," he says honestly. "You look like you need a better day, and I'm starving. So what do you say? Wanna use me as a good old-fashioned rebound?"

The corners of your lips turn upward. "I would."

"Perfect, then let me work my magic, and we can get out of here." he smiles, the toothy grin looking much more natural than the ones you see plastered on the magazine covers. He turns and walks over to a sidekick in an elastic red suit. "Hey, this one is a bit shaken up, so I'm gonna help them home; you got everything handled over here, right?"

They nod, and he turns on a dime, walking over to you with a poorly concealed pep in his step. "Are you ready to go?" 

You nod eagerly. And motions for you to hang on tight to him. Although just a few minutes ago, you were disgusted at the idea of even brushing knuckles with your previous date, being in the arms of the hero is comfortable. 

He launches the two of you into the air, and the wind tickles your face. Leaving your sniveling date in the dust. 

"So where to first?" he yells above the breeze. 

"There's a really good fried chicken food truck near my place if you want to try it out?" you say after a bit of thought. 

His gaze fills with affection, and his laughter rises with his wings. "Oh, I think we are gonna get along just fine."

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @sleepyyshroom @anjodedesgostoeerros @isaacdaknight @qardasngan @dog55teeth @atigerandabear

[dannybo0]

Oh my sigma!😂 You’re on a roll with those rizzles and gyatts! Skibidi dop dop, keep the party going!🎉🤣 Sounds like you’re having a blast with all those rizzles and gyatts! Just keep on rizzing, my friend!🤣💃BOIII WHAT U SAY ABOUT PHONK💀 +infinite aura +infinite testosterone +infinite noradrenaline 💀💀💀 *TRANSFORM TO PACKGOD* BOI SHUT YOU BOI Ass boi ICE CREAM AHH HAIR BLUE ICE HAIR AHH AHH 💀 ENGLIS OR ESPANOIS BLUD 💀🥶 blud this is so fricking tuff 🗿🍷💀💀 *ENTERS TROLFACE CRASHOUT MODE* 💀 only in balkans 💀🍷 german stare💀💀🗿🍷😤🙏😐🫱 BOI. if my thuggalicious comment doesn’t make you atleast smile, YOUR FROM BRAZIL XD. sussy baka wont laugh at my true rizzy comedy. 🤣 WELP. off to die! 🤷‍♂️ REEEEE 😂😐 🫱 BOI! that sussy baka is only from ohio. the toilets are near, quick! hide the kai cenat!*inhales* BOI ! 😐 🫱 🫱 What the SHAGGY Super saiyan is this my bruh! like 🅱️OI this made me go like sheeeesh 🤣 😐 🫱 🫱 🫱 Reddit nation! and you gotta listen to the Talk Tuah!hahaha 😂😂😂 Tee hee Rick astley outside you know da rules and so do I!!???! za WARUDO heehee Michael Jackson✨WHO TOOK THE MUFFINS OUT OF THE FREEZER UWU ✨.

Nyen - The Legend Of The Boob

[emmylksblog]

ONE STEP AT A TIME // Héctor Fort

summary: after a big fight, you’re feeling like a total fraud but still show up to Hector’s game. Emotions run high, but a sweet moment brings you back together. based on this request.

genre: slight angst, fluff

warnings: none

a/n: hey girlies! 💅 it's been a while since i last posted, where did the time go? life got hectic with uni and all that grown-up stuff that i just went survival mode for a while 😰 but i’m back tryna be consistent 🫶🏻

The final whistle echoes through the stadium, and as the crowd begins to disperse, you make your way to the players’ exit, weaving through clusters of fans. Your heart pounds, a mix of worry and anticipation tightening your chest.

You finally catch sight of Hector, walking off the field with a noticeable limp. He’s putting on a brave face, smiling politely at fans, but you notice the tension around his eyes, the way he tries to mask his discomfort.

“Hector!” you call out, your voice getting lost in the hum of the crowd. He turns at the sound of your voice, eyes searching for a moment until they land on you. His expression shifts—first surprise, then something softer, almost relieved. He takes a few hesitant steps toward you, and you close the gap.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be here,” he says, his voice warm but guarded. He tries to meet your gaze, but his eyes flicker with hesitation, as if he’s unsure of what to say after days of silence between you.

“Of course I came,” you reply, keeping your tone steady, though your heart feels heavy with everything left unsaid. You glance down at his leg, noticing how he shifts his weight to avoid putting too much pressure on it. “Are you okay? That looked pretty rough.”

He chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, just a bit bruised. The medics insisted I sit out the rest of the game, but it’s not as bad as it looks.”

Your eyes linger on his leg, catching every wince and grimace he tries to hide. “Come on, let me take you home,” you offer, voice gentle but firm. He hesitates, looking like he’s about to refuse, but something in your expression makes him nod.

The car ride is quiet, the city lights casting soft shadows across his face as he stares out the window, lost in thought. You steal a few glances his way, trying to read him, feeling the weight of unspoken words between you. Your heart aches to explain everything, to ease his worry, but the words feel stuck, too fragile to break the silence yet.

When you finally arrive at his apartment, he takes a step out of the car, flinching slightly as he shifts his weight. You reach out instinctively, offering your arm for support. He gives you a small, grateful smile, and you both walk inside, each step slow and careful.

Inside, you help him ease onto the couch, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh as he stretches his leg out. Without a word, you head to the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack and a towel. Kneeling beside him, you press the cold pack gently to his injury, your hands moving carefully, focused on not causing him any more pain.

He watches you quietly, his gaze lingering on your face. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice carrying a hint of something vulnerable. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You pause, glancing up at him, your fingers still on the ice pack. “I wanted to be here,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. You drop your gaze, suddenly feeling exposed. “I know I haven’t been around much. And I’m sorry.”

His brows knit together, and he studies you with a mixture of concern and confusion. “What’s going on?” he asks gently. “You’ve been so distant, I thought… I don’t know, that you needed space or maybe… I was making things harder for you.”

You feel a pang in your chest, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like to admit. You try to find the right words, the ones that will explain everything without unraveling you completely. “It’s… it’s not you,” you say finally, glancing down at his hand resting on his knee.

Your fingers brush against his in a brief, hesitant movement before you pull back. “I just… I feel like a fraud sometimes. Like I’m constantly putting on a face for everyone, and I don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore. And I didn’t want to bring you into that.”

He’s silent for a moment, his gaze steady and unwavering. Then, he reaches out, his hand covering yours in a gentle but firm grip. “You’re not a fraud,” he says, his tone soft yet resolute. “And even if you don’t believe that right now, I do. I see you—all of you. And I’m here because I want to be, not because of some version you think I expect.”

Your breath catches, the weight of his words sinking in. You look away, blinking back the emotions threatening to spill over. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing, grounding motion.

For a long moment, you sit in silence, letting his words sink in, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours. Slowly, you look up, meeting his gaze, feeling a flicker of relief settle in your chest.

“I just… I don’t want to let you down,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he leans back, still holding your hand. “You could never let me down,” he says, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “We’re in this together, okay? Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you feel the last of your walls begin to crumble. Without thinking, you lean forward, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his arm come around you in a steady, comforting embrace. He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push for more. He simply holds you, his presence a quiet reassurance that, no matter how messy things get, he’s here.

You stay there for a while, the tension between you slowly dissolving, replaced by the familiar warmth of his closeness. After what feels like an eternity, Hector pulls back slightly, tilting your chin up gently with his fingers so you’re looking into his eyes.

“I care about you,” he says softly, sincerity etched on his face. “You’re not alone in this.”

In that moment, you feel everything you’ve been holding onto begin to lift, replaced by the quiet, steady assurance of his love. You’re about to say something, to thank him, when he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. The tenderness of the gesture sends warmth flooding through you, solidifying the connection that had felt frayed just moments before.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. And as you lean into him again, you know that together, you’ll find your way through the chaos, one step at a time.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Tears to Shed

This is based on Tears to Shed from the Corpse Bride. Where Alastor accidentally marries the reader. The only problem is Alastor doesn't want to marry anyone. TW: Angst, Hurt, Sorrow, Illusions to Suicide but you can't die in hell unless it's angelic steel; Alastor is well Alastor, Mimzy is Alastors partner in this. <I am open to writing a part 2 if yall like this> @willowaudreykeyes helped me edit!

The day Alastor slipped the ring onto your finger seemed to shake the whole world with the weight of fated lovers. He was a striking figure, with caramel skin glinting beneath the sun, eyes alight, and a vigorous appetite for power and immortality. But beneath the surface, a shadow lingered: his heart was not free but tied to Mimzy, that star of the city, resplendent with the possibilities of influence and status among humans.

But in that very moment, as your eyes caught the gleam of the ring, you could almost think he chose you. You were, after all, wearing his ring, and he had said those vows with such passion as if some unseen force bound your destinies. 

But then time unraveled, and the truth trickled in like a cold, silent mist: Alastor wanted neither you nor Mimzy. He wanted to be free and live a life unencumbered by chains called commitment. He wanted power and to be feared above all others in his realm.

You had been heartbroken, perched up on the roof of a falling building in Hell, looking out at the fire spreading to the horizon. Never a fan of red and black, you'd always enjoyed blue and silver. The licks of flames danced like lost souls, taunting your self-worth.

You did, indeed, feel the gravity of your life in that moment-the corpse bride, once a loving beauty, now a demon cloaked by yearning and solitude: Alastor had brought one spark of hope into your heart only to cast it down into the dark. The pain of betrayal and the weight of your new existence as a demon were crushing you, threatening to consume the last remnants of your humanity.

You remembered that cold, starless night when he slid the ring onto your finger. For the beat of a moment, you were complete, while today, you are the broken pieces of what you once were: a beautiful woman full of life and a longing to be loved. But now, the truth stared you in the face: he was trapped, and you were the specter haunting his every step, it would appear.

You'd found Alastor begging for Mimzy's help only hours before. The scene had played like an echo in your mind, a foreign sound that twisted your insides. You'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in the shake of his voice. Beneath the bluster of a power-hungry fool, he was just a man desperate to be free of the tethers of a promise he had never wanted to make. And you, you were the one who had been used as a pawn in their twisted game of power and love.

As the reality fell in your heart like ashes, your friends emerged from the shadows: Nero, the imp, and Arianna, the succubus. Their loyalty to you puts a soothing wave over your spirit of fire and ice. They pressed themselves against your sides, the heat from their bodies contrasting with the chill of your skin and the despair that began to wrap around you as time passed.

They stared at the scene before you, knowing this was their doing. Had they not encouraged you to keep Alastor in your life, to guide and mentor you in a fantasy of mortals and demons in love, you wouldn't be like this on the brink of unleashing your powers on all of Hell once again, just as you had on the day you had died.

"What does that wispy little brat have that you don't have double?" Nero's voice was soft yet managed to cut through the fog in your brain. The gentle touch of his hand to yours was akin to a lifeline for a moment.

Arianna leaned in, her eyes aglow with wild affection. "She can't hold a candle to the beauty of your smile!" she said, in words that were an attempt at stitching the pieces of your heart together.

"Yeah, how about a pulse?" You snorted, the venom of bitterness thick in your voice as you stared at the fiery scene below your chosen hideout. You just felt like an antique compared with the sweet Mimzy.

"Overrated by a mile!" Nero chipped in, his voice light yet grave, as he sat by your side with a mutual understanding of the pain you are experiencing.

"Overfed!" Arianna cut in with a snort, her tail flicking in outrage.

"Overblown!" Nero exclaimed, with echoes of laughter resounding around the darkening space. Then he turned to Arianna, who nodded with full vigor. For a moment, their eyes shone with playfulness as they looked at you, hope alighting in their pupils.

"If he only knew the you that we know," they chorused in unison, gripping your hands tight. Their faces held pride with a touch of pain, but they held steady on one thing: their unity in support of you.

Arianna played with the ring on your left hand, smirking with mischief and love. "And the little silly creature isn't wearing his ring!"

Nero playfully elbowed you. "And she doesn't play piano!"

"Or dance or sing! No, she doesn't compare!" they chortled, their voices rising like some haunting melody.

But the shadows of doubt clung to you like a second skin. "But she still breathes air," you muttered; the weight of your reality fell again.

"Who cares?" they chorused, still enthusiastic, though you knew they were growing tired of your self-doubt.

"Unimportant!" Nero insisted, scrambling onto your shoulder, his small frame reassuring.

“Overblown!" Arianna echoed with whimsical reassurance, wrapping her tail gently around your arm.

"If only he could see how special you can be. If only he knew you that we know," they said in one accord, a mantra to which you were no longer sure you believed.

You stood, peeling yourself gently from the tangle of friends. Your undead eyes threatened to spill over with tears as you swayed on the precipice of despair, humming a mournful tune. Closer to the edge of the building you sat atop, the seductive allure of the fall whispered promises of nothing, for you could not die here.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain. If you cut me with a knife, it's still the same." You flourish the blade hidden in your garter, the cold steel calling to your mind your immortality. The use of it on Alastor flashed across your mind a spark of the most dangerous kind. You chase the thought away, turning back to your lament. The struggle between your desire for revenge and your lingering love for Alastor was tearing you apart, threatening to push you over the edge of sanity.

"And I know her heart is beating, and I know that I am dead. Yet the pain here that I feel, please try and tell me it's not real." You turned your gaze to your friends, their faces dimly lit by the firey light of hell, then fell back from the rooftop, landing softly within a coffin overflowing with blue and silver roses, the delicate petals wrapping you in a sorrow growing only larger by the minute.

"And yet, it would seem I still have a tear to shed." Your eyes, no longer shining bright, now blazed with the bitter salt of lost love, lost on the one with whom you had believed you shared. Yet time was a thief and saved little space for sorrow. Nero and Arianna were already down to your level, their eyes afire with determination in jarring contrast with the despair flooding your heart.

Nero was first to huddle beside you, his face lined with concern and encouragement. "The only redeeming feature of that little creature is that she's alive!"

Arianna joined him, her cheeks flushed from the hurried descent. "Yeah, it's overrated!" she chimed in, light in tone but weighted with the depth of unsaid meaning.

Nero nodded vigorously, nudging you gently as he gestured to the world beyond. "Yeah, even overblown!"

Arianna smirked, crossing her arms in a very defiant pose, even going so far as to tilt her chin upward in some kind of dare for you to say otherwise. "Everybody knows that’s just a temporary state, which is cured very quickly when we meet our fate!"

Nero's grin widened as he helped you sit up, your surroundings—a darkened alleyway��looming on like some sort of forgotten lover's heart. "Who cares?

Arianna wrapped her arm around your waist, the touch grounding and warm. "Unimportant!" she insisted, dismissing the weight of your sorrow with a wave of her hand.

Nero tugged your good hand with newly formed determination, pulling you toward the busy streets, back into the folds of society. "Overrated!"

Arianna toyed with your hair before flashing a mischievous wink over the mask of worried tension she knew was building the more they danced around your feelings. "Overblown!"

The pair sparkled brightly as they laughed-a stark difference amidst the cowering crowds shrinking away from you, the infamous Corpse Bride, the dainty specter who wielded more souls than damn near Lucifer himself.

"If only he could see how special you could be, if only he knew you, that we know!" Their words of encouragement merely cut through your heart like daggers.

You merely shook your head, a deepening frown as the shadows danced in your eyes, before pulling away and meandering to drift across the streets. A melancholy tune tumbled from your lips as those who'd dare to follow quickly began to wither into roses of silver and blue, scattered remnants of what once was. As you approached the next street, your lament started again, an echoing whisper.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain; in the ice or in the sun, it's all the same." You breezed by a café with candles on its tables casting their golden light into the night air, and without even batting an eyelash, you blew them out, embracing the darkness like an old friend.

Your eyes closed, knowing, sans sight, that you were the most significant threat this Hellscape had ever known. Your heart clutched, and your sorrow blossomed into a dark storm that sent those who knew your power scurrying back into the shadows, fear etched upon their faces.

"Yet I feel my heart is aching; though it doesn't beat, it's breaking, and the pain here that I feel, please, try and tell me it's not real." As your eyes fluttered open, the street transformed before you: what once was vibrant red and black now lay cloaked in shades of blue and silver- your wailing, weaving a tapestry of despair, draped over the once bustling scenery.

"I know that I'm dead, yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed." Your voice was barely heard, and there was a broken murmur as you made your way to your house. The chill of the stone outside was like the weight of your grief. Climbing the stairs with sluggish motions, you sat at your piano bench and stared onto the keys, the swell of your sorrow deep.

Nero and Arianna watched you, their faces heavy with what was not said, too much pain entering them as it had the rest of hell when you started your lament. They knew all too well that you only called upon your full banshee powers when the weight of despair bore too much, even that they could not fix it.

You laid your fingers against the keys, and the weight of silence fell. You pressed a key, and the note sang out to resound as one deep ache in your soul, for Alastor would go back to the world of the living, leave you for another, and leave you a shadow.

The sob, so fragile yet mighty, ripped itself free from your lips and unleashed a storm into the very pits of hell. Your wail pierced the night, a chorus of anguish, seeing as you were Y/N, the Corpse Bride, or better yet, a banshee of ill fate, rivaling the voice of Lilith herself.

The roses that danced around your abode shook with solemn trembles at the harmonization of keys to a requiem of lost love. And you, still lost between the planes of life and death, celebrated being the Harbinger of Sorrow.

[thetxtdevil]

Strawberry Dreams

Blueberry Boy!Kai x Strawberry Shortcake!Reader

summary: Kai knows a girl and he knows that no one is sweeter. She's got that special touch.

content: nsfw/mdni short thoughts, aphrodisiac body, fem.reader, innocent reader+kai kinda corrupting each other, oral (f. & m. rec), breeding kink, descriptions of cum, cum eating, missionary, riding

word count: 900

In Strawberryland where all the people are happy and a little fruity. A big plump strawberry cottage sits in a green meadow and across was a just as big blueberry house. Cute, shy, Blueberry Boy Kai, sits and waits watching your house. Waiting until his best friend opens her red and white striped curtains and unlock the top of her front dutch door, and like clock work you did. "Hi Kai!" "Hi y/n!!!" You're Strawberry Shortcake, you are Kai's best friend in the world and the most popular girl of the place. You wave to all your friends while riding your bike all through town and to your bakery booth. While Blueberry Kai follows you close behind. Your booth is open 5 days a week at the Strawberryland Farmers' Market and Kai is always there to help you set up.

On your free days you were consistently making your strawberry shortcake desserts while Kai strums his guitar on your pink fluffy rug in your very red living room. "Mmm Kai you need to try this!" The blueberry boy is swift on his feet prepared to grab a spoon to try your new icing, but he stops once he sees your fingers stretched out in front of him. His form bends down to lick your fingers getting more than a taste of your icing. His agrees that the icing tastes really good, but something felt odd... he felt different... Hungry, not in his stomach, hunger burned in his chest down to his groin. Kai's blue eyes study your focused face attention back on your pastry. The next events happens fast, you gasp feeling something soft and wet licking your neck. You look down only to see a fluff of the blueberry boy's sapphire hair. Now you were questioning this same new feeling something weird yet felt good...

Poor, poor strawberry you, you didn't know that your strawberry nature was an aphrodisiac. Now that your blueberry boy had a taste, he's addicted. A whole pandora's box of smut and so on...

Your booth had a late start that Monday when you asked help to bring up the canopy. Kai walks up behind you raising his arms successfully creating a cover for your little shop, but then you feel something poking you. You turn around with worried eyes only to be faced with a predatory stare from Kai. Leading him to fuck you under the table of the booth. Once you begged him to stop because you needed to start business he respectfully stops, but he never leaves his spot under the table. Finding relief to eat you out while you try so hard to give the greatest customer service.

You were an aphrodisiac, but your slick was something more to Blueberry Kai. A sweet taste of fresh strawberries that strike his sweet tooth just right. His long tongue explored your folds intently, learning fast what soft parts have you shaking.

But who knew your best friend would make you just as obsessive. It seemed like Blueberry Kai's scent became stronger every sexual encounter you two had. He had an earthy scent that smelled close to a childhood memory made you feel warm inside. His cheeks turned the brightest pink every kiss you gave. Head lowering down to what seemed like a chronically erected dick, you soon found another addiction, his purple blueberry scone flavored cum. So sweet yet a little salty, you'd do anything to hear his whimpered moans and to get your tongue a shade of his lilac cum.

"Come on, Shortcake, what's taking you so long?" You bite your tongue as your hear your lemony friend call out. "B-berry I was supposed to go out with my friends today." However you were far from ready to go out, at that moment your legs were over Kai's shoulders while he was balls deep in you. "Come on, sweet, just one more." it will be 3 more until that blueberry is tired and you can go hangout with your friends

Let me take it a step further and mention Kai's new found breeding kink and loving the idea of a strawberry/blueberry hybrid child. You're making a pie with a mini version of him with purple hair, that's what he envisions when he sees you all creampied with his cum. You make Kai want to do it again and again when you whine out of arousal every time he pushes his sweet cum back in your cunt.

A sweet picnic turned into a make-out session. You two bike down the road eventually turning into a dirt path next to a big lake. Laying a gingham blanket on the plush emerald grass, shaded by the trees that encapsulate the area. You sit close to the Blueberry Boy, feeding him a triangular cut jelly sandwich. Oops, some jelly is left on his lip, you lick it off. Leading to a kiss, to an open mouth kiss, his tongue gets a taste of you quickly reminded of the fact that you're a walking aphrodisiac. Kai picks you up to put you on his lap, not wasting time to have you watching the small waves of the water while riding his big cock. :')

This goes to show that Blueberry Boy Kai and Strawberry Shortcake you are a very fluffy couple. So sweet just like your names, but please PLEASE don't have Kai get too close to you or you will be split into two strawberries.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🍓 🫐

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling, @incogrio, @biteyoubiteme

[needforspeed161]

Just seen this on TikTok and- AHHHH IM CRYING ABOUT THESE OLD GAY PILOTS AGAIN. So I wrote a quick little Drabble!

“Maverick”

The brunette turned, setting down a grease covered wrench as he wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder.

Ducking below the wing of his beloved P-51 he’d been busting his ass to work on.

“Who is it dad?” Bradley’s head poked around the opposite side of the plane as he fixed his mustache.

“Tom-….what’r…..” the shorter man was interrupted by a pair of arms coming out to hug him tightly. As soft sobs were left in the junction between his neck and shoulder.

“Hey Tom….its okay, what’s going on?”

“Uncle Ice?” Bradley cocked his head, concerned bubbling in his stomach as he seen the picture laid out before him.

“Hey baby bird, could you grab your uncle some water? He’s gonna need it” Mav asked, and so Bradley was off, heading into the trailer parked inside the hangar that Maverick called home.

“Cmon Tommy, talk to me” he muttered, rubbing slow circles on his back.

“I’m so sorry….I’m sorry I wasted so much time, I feel so stupid!” Ice spit out, coughing into his elbow before meeting his wingman’s eyes.

“Ice whatr you-“

“What kind of a fool was I…..”

“A-a fool? Cmon don’t talk like that you’re-“

Ices eyes, blue and true as the ocean laid out before them so many times before….locked onto Mavericks green ones, like the horizon line between sea and land meeting as their carrier approached home.

“What kind of a fool was I, to have married her, and not waited for you” the blondes hands came up to cradle the shorter pilots face. Thumbs brushing away newly formed tears on the others part now.

“I-I don’t understand” Maverick was crying now, holding onto Ices wrists with gentle hands.

“Maybe this will enlighten you, you beautiful idiot”

Through two sets of tears their lips finally met. Waves crashed against a grassy shoreline, they were home….

Mavericks arms slung around the back of Ices shoulders. Slotting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. As tears continued to fall from both sets of eyes.

“I gave up on the idea of you ever wanting me…” Maverick whispered, resting his forehead against the blondes.

“Pete….sweetheart, I always wanted you….I was just so fucking scared….I didn’t know how to show it, so I decided to be the best wingman and friend you could have ever asked for. Because it’s all I knew how to do….its all I was ever allowed to be….”

“I understand…..it’s okay”

“It’s not….I wasted so much time Pete….so many of our years….”

“You didn’t”

Maverick wiped away Ices tears, smiling up at him with that huge dopey grin that the blonde came to know and love over the years.

“Even though I couldn’t kiss you, or hold you for as long as I wanted, or tell you I loved you….I got to see your eyes light up when I made a stupid joke, I got to see you shake your head when Goose and I would do something incredibly stupid. I got to sit out on the tarmac with you under the stars for hours and talk about everything and nothing. I got to be right by your side on dangerous missions. I got to fly through the pink and orange sky above the sea with you. I got to be the first person waiting for you on shore when we couldn’t go together and vice versa….we’ve been inseparable since….i mean if you really think about it we’ve basically been an old married couple since the 80’s”

They both chuckled, Ice running his hands through Mavericks dark hair. “This is true….but I still don’t want to waste another second not being able to kiss you…or hold you, or tell you just how much you mean to me….and how much I both love and hate those cowboy boots”

“Hey cmon now” Mav faked a wince. “The boots are golden and you know it!”

“Hangman owes me 20 bucks” Bradley interrupted, holding a bottle of water, leaning up against a toolbox as both men stared at him.

“You placed a bet about my love life?” The darker haired man questioned as they both approached him. Ice grabbing the bottle of water.

“I knew it all along….I do have eyes yknow? And you two weren’t exactly discreet.” Bradley snickered, fixing his own hair. “Hangman said it could never happen, I told him I wouldn’t be

Surprised if the whole Sarah thing was just a lavender marriage”

“So you and hangman are on talking terms now?” Ice spoke this time, resting his hand on the small of Mavericks back as he drank some water.

Bradley’s cheeks turned pink for a moment and his eyes fell down to his feet. “Well….you could say that….”

“And now you owe me 20 bucks darling” the older blonde placed a small kiss on Mavericks cheek.

Bradley froze. “Wait what?! You two placed a bet on MY love life?”

“To be fair I thought you two hated eachother” Mav chimed in, flipping his wallet open and handing the spoils to the victor.

“To be fair, everyone thought we hated eachother”

“This is true”

Bradley’s jaw was about to the floor as the two men before him discussed the topic amongst themselves. Beginning to walk towards the plane and past a very confused Bradley.

“Welp baby goose, it looks like the apple don’t fall far”

“Dad, I love you, but we’re not even biologically related….HOW CAN THE APPLE- yknow what…Nevermind”

Ice let out a small laugh. “Hope you don’t mind seeing more of me these days kiddo” wrapping an arm around Bradley’s neck as smiles painted on everyone’s face.

[corruptedcodelines]

It took him a long time to process the information, a cold sinking dread icing over his core as he started to realize just what all of this meant.

He... he was just... pieces?

He... was he even truly a Program at all then? Or just... a parasite stealing a body?

Why... why was he even able to function if this was the truth?

He looked away, staring down at his (were... try truly his at all...?) Hands as a feeling of... emptiness echoed in his core. He... hated it. Hated this feeling. He wished he could tear it out and crush it in his fingers till the voxels fell from his hands. Was any of these feelings truly even his? This... Tron... he could control what he saw... what he felt... his directives... he could alter everything just by living. His hands shook.

Hands. Clawed hands.

Were they even truly his?

He shoved the processes back into his core, hating the way they twisted and writhed.

Words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"You. Didn't... mean... to... hurt. Why? I... do not... function... punishment... natural..."

Clu would punish him... if he was here to see his glitching... his imperfection.

Why... did she allow it? Justify it?

Not in Kansas

@corruptedcodelines

Was this how Dorothy felt when she arrived in Oz? At least Munchkinland had more color.

Runa looked up at the sign that read Flynn’s. At least that seemed the same compared to the dystopian landscape around her. She had to have been dreaming. All the stress got to her and she took a nap at the arcade. That had to explain the blink and you miss it sudden landscape change from the computer desk to a dark, abandoned room. Runa pinched the skin on her arm under her leather jacket. No, that wasn’t working. Seeing a reflective surface, she rushed over to see her reflection. No, everything seemed normal to her. Her purple hair was still tied back, and she was still her regular, pale self. This had to be a very lucid dream. That had to be the only explanation.

Runa ran back inside Flynn’s and sunk down to the ground. She curled in on herself as she tried to form her thoughts. This was too much. All of it was too much.

Everything was too much.

She cried as she hugged herself. She wanted her family. Why couldn’t they be here? If this was really a dream, why couldn’t they be here?!

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

Color Spectrum Duo Origins Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run

Part 1

Rating: Teen

Romantic Relationships: None

Cw: Minor swearing and alluding to Killer’s prior act of cannibalism

Synopsis: Color runs. A Killer chases.

Word Count: 1, 844

His opponent yelped, diving to the side just before Killer could reach them.

“Hang on! Can’t we just—fuck!” The skeleton rolled in the snow, a knife impaling the ground and sizzling through the quickly vaporized ice seconds where their torso had been.

“Sorry, I’d rather make LOVE,” Killer jokes, “not love.”

They kicked themselves back onto their feet, but it was too late. Killer had gotten close enough to pull them into an Encounter.

Usually, monster culture etiquette dictates an Encounter is commenced with cordiality. Souls are sacred, the very essence of a monster, the culmination of their entire beings, Souls and Intent could arguably be defined as the true heart of monsters. Folkways then are guided with a caution always for the fragile magical constructs.

His Intent is sharp and vicious, his magic wrenches his victim’s Soul from their chest and pulls it out to hover before them.

Killer disregards their alarmed, pained cry, determination burning him from the inside out. His magic pulses through his body when he sprints and spins his blade in his gloved palm.

A quick Check to reveal what exactly this interloper’s intentions are, and then lights out. The knife in his fisted palm glows an ominous crimson as he holds it aloft, prepared to strike—

—Only to falter at the Soul’s unusual appearance; cordate but not inverted, a pearlescent ivory center outlined by blinding colors rapidly shifting from one to the other — and the information that flickers before him.

* COLOR ATK 0 DEF 0

*A skeleton who absorbed six of the seven human Soul Traits.

*He’s a weak vessel in the wrong place at the wrong time.

*LV 1 HP 0/0

To survive, you need to adapt within a moment’s notice. To process any and all changes in the environment around you. To fight and defend yourself effectively even with limited information. To do anything and everything to survive without hesitation.

It was a lesson hard taught. Years of agony and torture and suffering his cruel teacher, but this lesson of utmost survival was ingrained into his Soul itself.

Never falter.

Never doubt his superior.

Never surrender unless brought to heel.

And yet, the momentum of his clenched fist stuttered. His thoughts ground to a halt as he absorbed this information. It echoes in his mind, his record player Soul spinning and crackling in wild red-white circles as he stares, frozen.

Something about it it’s not him it’s not him this is real this is real has a cold, tight grip around his Soul.

*A weak vessel in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No, no, no, that’s not possible. Killer was – this is just another – it had to be a trick. A game. A ploy, or, or challenge of some kind! Why—?!

Suffocating fear floods his body like he’d been dunked in an icy river and he shuts down, looped tape of orotund voices splitting his skull open and blasting from his irate scribbled mess of a Soul.

Killer faltered.

The interloper side-steps, narrowly missing Killer’s full-bodied lurch, and bolts, yanking his Soul back but it’s not a true monster Soul, right side up like a human’s and glows polychromatic like the flames to flee the Encounter, gunning for the inner forest.

His mind catches up to his failure before his staggering body could and once more, poleaxing fear withers him out and fixes him in place, even as his mind screams through the voices that he’s in danger and won’t survive—!

But Survival was not an option. It was a must.

Do what it takes to endure must outlast must persist failure is not an option

They are a Killer. It’s all that they know.

And they must never lose a hunt.

They take off after him.

Color curses as he dives behind a snow bank. Sanguine knives pierce the ground beside him and he lets out more colorful (he could already hear his friend’s snickers) curses.

He yelps when a knife with seething Intent flies through the flames pouring out his skull and thuds into a tree in front of him.

He flings himself back onto his feet and nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get away, stumbling over a rock hidden by puffs in the snow. His misstep is punished with a knife piercing his shoulder, and he hisses at the flare of pain the scrape against his glenohumeral joint sparks.

Color slides, ignoring the ache of dropping to one knee and bends the other back for support and evokes a blaster, the draconic vestige materializes on his right hand and its jaw unhinges, mana crackling before it surges out as a powerful rainbow blast. Once it’s fired it dematerializes as quickly as it had appeared.

He hears a startled noise but can’t make out if anything else is said. Already he’s back on his heels and pivots before bolting away once more.

As he runs, he curses how a previously pleasant day of landscape photography could have spiraled so far out of control so quickly.

Hysterical laughter bubbles in the back of his throat. His chest heaves with the exertion but he can’t teleport out, he needs to find the liminal space he entered through to get back to the Omega Timeline. The special portals hidden by Core are accessible only to those they’ve granted the Codes to. He just needed to get to the “door” and he’s home free.

If he could outrun the cannibal chasing him and survive long enough to make it, that is.

“You totally gotta go to this AU! He said,” Color sarcastically intones while replaying Epic’s earlier words. “It’s sanctioned by the Stars,” he pants, sweat dripping down his skull while his Soul frantically pounds in his chest, “and I heard it’s got the most beautiful forest, he said. Nothing could possibly go wrong, he said!”

He pauses mid rant to hunch over with his hands on his patellae, gulping down air he doesn’t need to soothe his frenzied mana.

Frightening snarls are followed by blades whirling passed him and impaling the snow.

“AAAaaaand we’re running again!” Color yelps and books it.

“Epic, I swear if I live through this, I’m gonna kick you right in the damn shin,” Color growled.

Apparently a supposedly pleasant, positive AU has cannibals running around. Why not? It’s just Color’s luck.

He needed to put as much distance between himself and his lethal assailant as he could.

On their end the Killer doesn’t let up on their assault. They pull knives from their jacket pockets and continue to throw dagger after dagger after the skeleton in a rapid fire series of attacks. If their prey slips even a bit one would land. They noticed how physical attacks incur minimal damage. Attacks laced with magic, rippling with malicious Intent, however, make their frightened prey stumble and keen in pain. Their victim is unusual, an abomination to the natural order of all things Chara’s giggle is a whisper “Sounds familiar” but they are a skilled hunter.

All prey have weaknesses to exploit.

They don’t care if this NPC or test from Nightmare or whatever the stars-damned fuck this “skeleton” is. They will not be the one who suffers, not this time.

With the taste of iron, of blood and their own ashes from their burned insides on their tongue, they persist. They are Unnas, spirit indestructible, and if they wish for him to die, then he will die.

With their newfound clarity they shift tactics. The hybrid summons their blaster and pours all the wrath and anguish they carry into the blast. Their blaster mirrors their own hateful countenance, Determination grows from black rivers to floods that pour out their sockets and mouths, cooking up their insides and boiling their marrow as they burn alive.

Blaster and evoker both unhinge their jaws and roar a deafening scream.

The moment the air burned with tangible hatred, Color drops, flinging himself to the snowy ground a fraction of a second just in time. The blast misses him, eviscerating instead several acres of forest.

Color’s Soul aches at the devastation. All that beautiful scenery, gone. Obliterated out of nothing but sheer misdirected hatred.

His mourning lightens when his eye spots a strange ripple in the air ahead of him, visible only to him.

He brightens, Soul lighting up with hope once more. That was the door!

Color plants both hands by his skull and kicks his legs up, flipping himself upright and lunges forward. Almost there, almost there, almost there!

His hand reaches for the translucent Codes shifting and humming within the liminal space.

Only for the sight of his freedom to be ripped from his visage as a katana impales him, sinking into his scapula and breaking through his sternum.

Color chokes on fire, his eyelight flaring and flames spiraling in pain. The cruel Intent tears through his mana network, buzzing angrily and disrupting his magic in its attempt to subdue and kill kill kill.

Blinded by pain, Color reacts on instinct.

He whirls around while the Killer closes in, another katana in hand, and with a slitted eyelight evokes his blaster. Firing right at the strange target hovering in front of the cannibal’s chest.

It lands, and Color is unprepared for the way the sound that it tears from his assailant shrieks through the forest, shrill visceral agony cracking in an anguished scream.

The impact blasts them back, skittering and tumbling several feet away onto their chest.

It…it made no sense…Color trembled, shaken by the sound and adrenaline and his instincts howling for him to run. His Intent was to protect himself, why were they spasming and mana flaring like he’d taken a shot at their Soul…?

Color stills with horrified realization as the cannibal’s claws dig into the snow and they slowly start crawling towards him. Despite their continued choking, hacking up splatters of bitter, black fluid, they force their trembling body towards him.

The strange, erratically spinning lines of crimson and ivory magic…that was their Soul.

And Color had shot his magic, powered by several human Traits, right at it.

Horrified revulsion simmers in his nonexistent gut and he doesn’t know what to do, wanting to apologize but knowing letting his guard down would mean his permanent end. He could escape, freedom was right there, right behind him. All he had to do was step through and he’d be out of the AU.

But then they lift their skull to stare at him. Voided sockets with ink-like fluid pouring out, stare into Color’s singular wide eye.

There’s not an ounce of hatred that he felt in the attacks prior. It’s empty and black. In those eyes there was no fear, only resignation. And yet they still crawl towards him, knife clasped in a shivering claw.

Color reaches out, mouth parted to say something, but before he can reach out something intangible shoves him and he falls through the door, the portal closing behind him and seals the exit locked.

The last he sees before he falls through it to the Omega Timeline are those empty eyes.

[slutforwwewomen]

Vampires Aren’t Real…”

summary - You just had a match with Rhea Ripley, during the match, after Rhea hit you so hard it busted your lip, she licked the blood off her hands and fingers. Backstage, you asked her why she decided to do that.

Warnings - Blood, Suggestive Explicit Content, Choking, Gagging and all that good stuff! (No smut! If you guys like this one, I’ll make a part two with smut. 😉)

You currently are in a match against the Women’s World Champion, Rhea Ripley, for her title.

Rhea had punched you so hard, she busted your lip. You saw a devious look on her face when the blood started running.

Almost as if she…did it on purpose?

She rolled back in the ring, right in front of the camera, and licked her fingers and hand of your blood.

Rhea had done this before of course, but she looked like she enjoyed that a bit too much.

You finally get back up to your feet, rolling in the ring yourself.

You tried to punch her, but she blocked you, grabbing your fist.

“You’re to weak..” She says to me.

She twisted your arm, bending you ways the human body shouldn’t bend.

You let out a blood curdling scream.

Blood still running down your busted open lip.

You probably need stitches for it.

She slowly, but strongly pushes you down to the ground on your knees. Overpowering you completely.

Rhea has an intense glare on her face as she looks down at you, slightly tilting her head and smirking.

Then…

She head-buts you.

She picks your weak body off the ground and lifts you up for the riptide.

Rhea pins you with her famous pin, and…

1…2…3.

You’re layed flat out on the mat. Out of breath, eyes closed.

Rhea rolls off top of you, sitting on the ground with that same grin on her face.

As the ref brings Rhea her title, she stands up, takes it and walks back over to you, leaning down over your face.

She reached out, grabbed your hair to hold your head steady, and wiped your face with the title.

You squirm in pain, Rhea literally shoving the cold and rigid surface on your open gash.

She pulls the now bloody title back, and grins at it for a split second. Like she physically enjoys doing this to you.

She brings the title to her face and licks your blood off it.

“What the fuck.” You mumble out.

She starts laughing hysterically before backing up and exiting the ring.

All 3 matches you’ve had, she’s made you bleed and you’ve spotted her licking the blood off of herself.

But this…this was different.

After she walks to the back, you exit a minute or two after her, your legs wobbly from the riptide you just took.

You get to the back, walking to the locker room.

One of the medical workers comes up to you and asks to check your lip but you tell them you’ll check back later.

All you wanna do is get changed into something comfortable and get the drying blood off of your face.

As you enter the locker room, you’re met with Rhea.

She’s sitting on the bench, just staring.

“Good job out there.” She says to me, nonchalantly.

“Thanks.” You say to her, slightly smiling.

You walk to your cubby in the locker room, grabbing your bag so you can clean off in the bathroom and get changed.

You turn around and now, Rhea and you are face to face.

She’s holding a wet napkin.

“Can I?” She asks. Motioning to the napkin.

You nod your head.

She places one hand on the side of your head, and brings the other with the cold napkin in hand up to your lip.

You flinch at first due to the sting.

She gently wipes it off, being as careful as possible.

“Rhea.” You say.

“Hmm?” She pulls back to look at you. Removing her hand and throwing the bloody napkin away.

“What was that out there? The whole…blood thing.” You say.

Her face, inches away from yours.

You feel a sense of coldness radiating in the room now.

Rhea doesn’t answer your question.

She just inches closer to you.

And closer…

Your eyes widen.

What is she doing?

She presses up against you. Moving her face in the crook of your neck.

You feel her suddenly…smell you?

She pushes harder against you.

Her body.

Suddenly cold as ice.

“Do you believe in Vampires..?” She asks you.

“Why- are you asking me that?” You breathily ask.

She pulls back from the crook of your neck.

“Just answer me.” She says.

“I like the idea of them…I think they’re cool, but they don’t exist.” You say.

“Wrong.” Rhea says.

What is she talking about?

Rhea leans into your neck once more.

She licks the side of your neck.

“Shit!” You blurt out. “Rhea, what if someone comes in here! The doors open!” You say to her.

Suddenly, you feel a rush of wind.

A blink of the eye.

Somehow the door is now shut.

Rhea pressed against you exactly the same as before. As if time hasn’t passed.

Oh my god.

“Holy shit.” You blurt out again.

“I’m gonna ask you again. Do you believe in Vampires?” She says to me.

“I- I can’t…What’s going on. Rhea, what- what was that.” I ask her, now freaked out as ever.

You wonder if you’re having a nightmare or something.

“No. You’re not having a nightmare.” She says to me.

What the fuck. How did she know what you were thinking?

Rhea suddenly takes her hand and places it around your neck.

Slowly squeezing.

“Out of everyone I’ve tasted…you by far are the best tasting human.”

“Shit, Rhea, please…don’t hurt me.” You say to her.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I wouldn’t dream of it.” She says, even though you feel her grip tighten even more.

But…as she tightened her grip, you can feel yourself growing wet.

You look at Rhea, dead in the eyes. The mood changing between you two. You were scared just a moment ago, but now…you were as horny as ever.

She suddenly leans into you, kissing your lips.

You close your eyes. She removes her hand from your throat, now moving it down your sides.

You kiss her back, as passionately as possible.

The wound on your lip, burning, as you two make out.

But you liked it.

You liked how you felt.

You could taste your own blood.

Rhea pulls away to look at you.

Rhea leans back into your neck, but this time…she connects her mouth to it.

At first she was just giving a regular hickey, and then…

She bit you.

You groaned in pain, but the pain subsided into pleasure.

You could feel her actually drinking your blood.

You fucking love it.

You feel Rheas hands sliding down onto your boobs, finally reaching them. Each time she takes a swallow of your blood, she squeezes your breasts.

She pulls back from your neck once more.

Her face, covered in blood.

You feel the blood dripping down your neck.

She takes her fingers and wipes it off your neck.

“Open your mouth.” She says in a demanding tone.

You do what she says, and open your mouth.

She shoves her fingers in your mouth, wiping the blood on your tongue and she pushed her fingers down your throat.

You slightly gag at this sensation, but fuck do you like it.

She pulls her fingers back out and you close your eyes for a moment due to exhaustion.

You feel her let go and back away from your body.

You open your eyes then one moment she’s there.

The next, she’s gone.

( AN - Hellooo! Once again, I’m new to writing. I didn’t have time to proof read so if there is anything missing or misspelled, that’s my fault! Any tips and advice is much appreciated! 💋)