#Illuminate Palette | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bahablastplz · 8 months ago

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Canvas: Hyunjin x Reader

Content: A late night with your boyfriend turns into something more as you both try something you had only talked about before; smut and fluff Warnings: p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, heavy heavy praise WC: 2500 Happy birthday Hyunjin <3

Hyunjin was painting again.

As you roll out of bed in the middle of the night, this fact is apparent. The smell of paint wafts from the living room where he has his work space set up. A large tarp on the floor, a small easel propped up and a lamp set to illuminate his latest work. Paints lay haphazardly around him, a blend of colors and shades of hues mushed across the palette. The rest of the room was dimly lit, moonlight shimmering through the curtains and shining on your boyfriend’s face. God, he was breathtaking. One paintbrush is in his mouth and the other in his hand, gliding across the canvas. The sight makes you let out a breathy laugh.

“Love?” He looks up at you now, watching your frame as you admire him from the wall. The lamp light reflects onto his dark-framed glasses when his gaze meets yours, and you smile at how the yellow and orange lights glow across his features. He smiles back. It’s a small gesture, and even though you’ve seen him smile hundreds of times the gesture warms your heart.

You cross the room in your nightgown, the cold breeze from the air-conditioning causing you to curl into yourself slightly. Hyunjin beckons to the spot on the floor beside him and you take it eagerly, body curling around him and head resting on his lap.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask him. He has the habit of sneaking away in the night, so as to not wake you, and painting until the sun starts to creep through the windows. It’s cathartic for him, a way for him to get away from his thoughts that trouble him in the night. In moments like this you love to watch him, how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips get caught between his teeth. Hyunjin was the most in his element when he had a canvas in front of him.

“Mm,” he confirms. He checks his hand to make sure no paint dirties it before he rests it on your hip, drawing soothing circles on top of your nightgown. Your head nuzzles deeper into him and you breathe in his scent, letting out a content hum.

“Did I wake you?” He asks a moment later. His hand moves effortlessly across canvas, dappling acrylic paint across a vision of flowers that was already the picture of perfection to you–but would probably take him at least a few more hours to complete. He was a perfectionist like that; he could point out every absence of color, needed highlight or small imperfection of his work that was near imperceivable to you.

“No, the bed was just cold. I wanted to see where you were,” you hum against his skin. Your words were true, of course; because you get so hot when you sleep next to your boyfriend, the house usually stays a bit chillier but you notice his absence sometimes when he leaves the bed late at night. He now wears a dark colored hoodie that swallows his features, meant for his comfort when lounging around the house like this. His pants are also meant for lounging, the gray sweatpants soft but covered in remnants of previous art projects known lovingly as his ‘painting pants.’

“Do you want me to warm you up?” You nod and crawl into his lap, nuzzling your face right into the crook of his neck. He lets out a breathy laugh underneath you, arms wrapping around your frame to bring you closer as he continues to work. After a few minutes your boyfriend leans closer to the canvas, examining a piece of his work that must have not looked right to him. This action shifts your position, however, your core now pressed right against his clothed length. You tense against him and your breath hitches slightly, and you know that he’s caught on to your arousal.

“How much longer?” You whine against him. He lets out a laugh and uses his free hand to stroke your back, long fingers moving languidly across your spine. The action is meant to soothe you but has the opposite effect, sending an electrical shock down your body and causing you to let out a small breath.

“Why, love? Are you feeling needy for me?” You nod almost embarrassingly fast. While you love watching Hyunjin paint and could for hours, you can’t help the want that settles deep in your gut that begs for his touch, his attention, and his desire to be released toward you.

“I was hoping to paint for a while more,” he confesses. You try not to let your disappointment show, but you let out a moan as the man’s hand finds your hips, pushing you harder against him. The friction that meets your core has you feeling more desperate and you buck into him and he’s smiling, and it infuriates you to know he’s intentionally trying to work you up. He has always loved seeing you pliant, needy and desperate for him, and you were unfortunately already in that state somehow. “Do you want to sit on my cock baby?” Your head reels back to look at him with wide eyes. “You can sit on my cock while I paint but you have to be good and promise not to move, okay?”

You had talked with him about cock-warming before but it was never something you had actually done. Now, it must be just past 3 a.m., and you were finally turning the hypothetical into reality–it felt unreal. You let out an affirmative sound and nod your head, and he’s maneuvering your bodies to get you set up. He repositions you so that you’re on your knees above him, slightly towering over him where he sits on the floor. He’s lifting his hips up and pushing his pants down just past his thighs, releasing his cock and pumping it one, two times. He’s hard already, and you watch him in awe as he works to pleasure himself in front of you. It’s just for a second, but enough for him to have your breath come to a stop, which is exactly what he was waiting for.

His hands find place on your waist. He’s hitching your nightgown up above your hips, leaving you bare for him. It’s no secret that sometimes you sleep without underwear on, but he smirks at you and stares in a way that leaves you feeling utterly exposed despite him having seen you like this hundreds of times. His fingers come up to your core, rubbing it and gathering your wetness to spread it around your folds. You let out a moan at the action, thankful for the contact before he’s dragging you down and placing his cock at your entrance.

He leans back on his hands and looks up at you, waiting for you to do the rest. And so you do, piercing yourself onto him and sliding down his length, inch by inch. Hyunjin was well-endowed, so to speak, so it was never an easy fit to take him but it felt pleasurable nonetheless. Finally he is fully inside you, and your breathing and each moan is completely synced with one another. A hand comes up to bring a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and the movement is so domestic and loving that it makes your heart pang in your chest.

“Beautiful,” is all he says.

He brings your nightgown back down so that it covers you up, remembering your recent complaint about being cold. Your head finds its place back on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck like it’s your home.

And, he continues painting.

You’re not sure why you’re surprised–that’s exactly what he said he was going to do. Your boyfriend has a lot of self-control and restraint that you did not, and it was especially evident when you were intimate. While you often become wrecked from the start, he would let his pleasure build up and would reel from the delayed gratification of it all.

Your knees find the ground and before you can help yourself, you put your weight on them. You’re propping yourself up, sliding up his length about halfway, before crashing back down. Your clit drags deliciously across his abdomen in the process, causing you to let out a heavy sigh of pleasure. You rock against him only one more time before strong hands find your shoulders, pushing you down hard. You try to bounce up again and find that you’re unable, his grip keeping you in place so firmly that you cannot budge despite your attempts.

“Don’t,” he scolds. His words are sharp, not laced with venom but to remind you of his earlier demands.

At this angle, his hands pushing you down causes his cock to be seated deeper inside you than before and you let out an embarrassing squeak. You feel so full, and you tell him so.

He has an idea; he grabs you and leans forward, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his torso. When he sits back down, you are now unable to give yourself the momentum needed to move your hips or rock against his length. You are fully seated on him and he is fully inside you, his arms wrapping around you and holding you flush against him as he continues his work.

It’s silent, now, with the exception of your shallow and uneven breathing. You find yourself clenching against him over and over again, reeling in the sensation of him inside you. And it’s just that–you can really feel him like this, every ridge and vein, every pulse of him inside you, and it has you feeling lightheaded.

“God, baby, you’re gushing around me,” he whispers into your hair. “Taking me so good.” His praise makes you smile and squeeze tighter around him and he groans. You feel smug to finally get him to lose his composure, but he starts spouting more praise that makes all thoughts vanish in an instant.

“So good for me, baby, you know that? Such a good pussy. You’re the love of my life, God, you were made just for me. You were made for me to love you, to hold you like this… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, meant to take my cock, yeah?” You whimper against him, the mixture of sweet nothings and sexual praise whispered to you making you feel dizzy.

It’s several more minutes before you say something, finally coming to the conclusion that you would have to be the one to initiate it further, if he would even let you.

“Please…” It’s all you can say at first.

“What, love?” He teases. He knows exactly what you want.

“Need you to move, please, Hyune… It’s too much. Need to cum,” You beg. You’re sure you sound pathetic but you can’t find it in you to care. If there’s anyone who’s not only willing but wanting to see you in your most pathetic and vulnerable states, it’s Hyunjin.

“Poor thing, does it feel that good?” His voice asks with a small lilt in it. You’re sniffling now, embarrassed about the tears starting to spill down your cheeks but so overcome in pleasure and sensitivity; you can both feel it in the ways that you clench around him unabashedly. He brings his head back to see your face, to examine your tears. He’s seen you on the verge of tears a few times while having sex from being overwhelmed by pleasure, and though it always makes his heart tighten because he’s the one that’s doing that to you, he’s the one making you feel that good, he knows it’s about time you’ve reached your limit. He wipes a stray tear away and you don’t even realize that he has dropped his paintbrush until he’s picking you up and bringing you over to the couch.

He leans back, enraptured by you, and brings you in for a sweet but messy kiss. It’s open-mouthed and hot, and it feels like you’re breathing into him and filling up his lungs. Your tongues meet and you’re covered in spit, a mixture of yours and his, and suddenly his hands are on your hips and his feet are planted strongly on the ground. He doesn’t disconnect his mouth from yours as he thrusts up into you long and hard, but any coherence is long since gone and you’re not sure you’re even kissing back anymore, instead giving loud, high-pitched moans into his mouth.

His hands move to the undersides of your thighs and he uses his strength to piston into you. In this way, you can only take what he gives but it’s more than enough, as he knows your body better than you do.

“I’m close, love,” he confesses. He lets his head fall back onto the couch but his eyes never leave yours, drinking up your scrunched up face and open-mouthed pants. It’s no surprise that you’re both close to your arrival so soon, after sitting on him for so long your pleasure feels like it’s increased tenfold.

“Me too,” you say, struggling to get the words out. You didn’t have to tell him, though. He could tell by the way you were starting to tighten around him.

“Go ahead and touch your pretty clit for me, make yourself come.” You follow his command, hand snaking down to where your bodies meet. He was right, you were absolutely soaked, and you use this wetness to shakily circle around your clit. His thrusts get harder, deeper, the way they do right before he cums. Unsurprisingly, you beat him to it, clenching all over his length and throwing your head back as you release.

He follows suit, thrusting into you a few more times before he finds his release, spilling deep inside of you. He holds you close, rutting into you now slowly and working you both through your intense orgasms. When he stills, you collapse into his arms and he holds you tight, embracing you and running a hand through your hair as he praises you. When he finally pulls you off of him you feel empty and this makes you whine. Hyunjin pulls up his sweatpants and carries you to your shared bathroom, placing you onto the sink as he runs the bath. It’s late, but you feel grimy and covered in sweat so the bath is more than welcomed.

When you look into the mirror, you can’t help but laugh. Your nightgown is covered in paint at your hips and your waist. Though he had tried to be so careful, you suppose it was the risk that came with the reward. When Hyunjin sees the target of your laughter, he joins you and apologizes sheepishly, promising to buy you another.

“It’s okay, this can just be my paint nightgown,” you joke. “I’ll wear it the next time we have sex while you’re painting.” He smiles at you affectionately, and when you finally get back to sleep it’s in his arms and your bed is warm again.

*** Masterlist Recs

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theostrophywife · 5 months ago

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curiosity killed the cat.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.

author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3

Curiosity killed the cat.

The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning.

They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in.

In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form.

To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night.

Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts.

Potato, potato.

The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up.

With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons.

The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place.

The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention.

The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.

The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow.

This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical.

As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier.

No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite.

Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming.

In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight.

“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully.

The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either.

After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.”

Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus.

“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.”

“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate.

Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled.

“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.”

The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed.

“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”

Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed.

“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.”

In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh.

You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.”

At that, Regulus purred in agreement.

From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting.

During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?”

Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes.

You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.”

From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason.

The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety.

Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was.

Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another.

Perhaps it was time to change that.

The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster.

It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you.

“How was your weekend?”

You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.

“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?”

Regulus paused. “It was…fine.”

Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order.

The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?

When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat.

“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.”

The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned.

“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate.

“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled.

Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?”

“Shut it, Nott.”

“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.”

Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.”

“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?”

“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”

Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice.

Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this.

“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?”

Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.”

You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.”

His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!”

Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.

“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.”

You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.”

“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped.

“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”

Regulus tried not to grin.

Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.”

Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.”

Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all.

Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes.

It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her.

In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved.

“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered.

The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!”

To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?”

Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.”

His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?”

Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.

If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.

So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course.

From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself.

“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly.

“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?”

“About a thousand times.”

“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?”

You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers.

“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.”

The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.”

Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus.

“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.”

He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.”

Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects.

“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter.

“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down.

You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?”

“Of course, Mr. Black.”

“Regulus is fine.”

“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.”

As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.”

You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat.

“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.”

“Which one?” you asked curiously.

Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks.

“All of them.”

Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?”

Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”

“Every single book?”

“Mhm.”

“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money.

“And I devoured every single one.”

As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.

The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads.

Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship.

“Is this seat taken?”

You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.”

Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”

“That’s Regulus to you, love.”

“I thought it was Reg.”

“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.”

“Okay, Reggie.”

He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal.

“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?”

“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.”

“My point exactly.”

“What’s wrong with oatmeal?”

“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.”

“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.”

“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?”

“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.”

Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy.

Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people.

Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.

In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.

“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.”

Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.”

“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?”

“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.”

“You’re hopeless, Regulus.”

Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.”

The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you.

“However will you live?”

“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.”

“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.”

He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.”

“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively.

Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest.

“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”

“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.”

You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.”

Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement.

As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch.

“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle.

Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.”

Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.”

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response.

Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.”

“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.”

“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.”

Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.”

Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.”

“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.”

As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.”

Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.

At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold.

“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly.

“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.”

You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons.

“This is quite lovely,” you said softly.

Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.”

You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.”

“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”

The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.”

As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.”

You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.”

“No, thank you.”

“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly.

Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises.

“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.”

Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch.

“Shall we?”

A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you.

As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow.

You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close.

“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”

Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.”

You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?”

The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.”

You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.”

The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel.

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously.

“No.”

“Then why are you staring?”

Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw.

“Because you’re beautiful.”

The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him.

“Reggie…”

The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…”

Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons.

You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?”

One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.”

Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked.

“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly.

You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back.

“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.”

“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.”

“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped.

“Why, you little twat—”

“Guys,” Regulus scolded.

Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.”

You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.”

“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.”

The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement.

“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.”

“Riddle,” warned Regulus.

Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room.

“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”

Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it.

“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.”

“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.”

“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.”

“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.”

Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?”

The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks.

“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.”

Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.”

“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.”

“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted.

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.”

Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.”

The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins.

“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch.

In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret.

“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.”

Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle.

You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you.

The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus.

Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds.

“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed.

“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?”

“Uh…the kind with wings?”

Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?”

The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family.

“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip.

“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.”

He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.”

You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.”

“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.”

There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus.

“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers.

You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?”

“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.”

A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words.

Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”

Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words.

The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take.

You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus.

Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?”

“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.”

You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.”

“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice.

Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern.

“Yes, and I heard it too.”

“Please, can you—can you just not tell Reggie?”

Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat.

“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.”

Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt.

Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again.

Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.”

Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament.

No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus.

The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed.

“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.”

Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.

“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.”

The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow.

“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.”

Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.”

To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed.

“Good night, Shadow.”

Regulus knew it was reckless.

But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.

It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better.

Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood.

At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier.

Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.

It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.

The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose.

This was not good.

This was definitely not good.

You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief.

“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?”

Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot.

But none of that mattered now.

“Don’t end our friendship.”

You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”

“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.”

You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?”

Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.”

He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.”

You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?”

Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —"

His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you.

Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?”

Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.”

“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.”

“I think I like Pansy.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.”

“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.”

You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?”

“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.”

“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.”

Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek.

Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers.

Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded.

“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.”

“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.”

Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.”

“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.”

“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.”

“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?”

You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.”

At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat.

Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?”

You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?”

Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.”

You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?

“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.”

With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.”

Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.”

When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?”

Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.”

“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back.

“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.”

“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.”

Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr.

#he's so cute my little black cat baby boy #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fic

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jaylaxies · 1 year ago

Text

TIDES AND TEMPTATION

PAIRING: siren!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, angst, mentions of kidnapping, pirates, war, blood, sirens and mer-people, mentions of nicknames, cunnilingus, breeding, unprotected sex, underwater kingdom.

WC: 5.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: happiest birthday to my love @celeste-hoon this one’s for youu <3 also hihi, angels! we’ve finally reached the last fic for this year’s kinktober! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

The sound of waves crashing against one another, the sudden buzz of urgent chatter and running, and the burn of ropes digging into the flesh of your wrists woke you up from your uncomfortable slumber of unconsciousness.

It was bright, albeit the lack of sunlight as the clouds covered the sky. You blinked once, and twice before realizing exactly where you were, your mind reeling back to what had happened over the past one day—or more. You weren’t aware of how long you had been knocked out for.

You remember going out with your friends at the sea shore, your peace interrupted by the sudden screams, the pain following soon after you saw the group of pirates trying to capture everyone in the vicinity, you weren’t an exception.

Your cries were ignored. Fighting back was of no use as they easily took control, using the rope to tie you up as they carried you into the massive blue coloured ship, your body too tired to keep up, falling limp till you reached here.

You were on the deck, tied up with a lot more people who were just as panicked if not more, yet you couldn’t spot any of your friends. The pirates were in a rush, their swords out and a sweet melody lingering in the air despite the bloodshed filled atmosphere.

You cried out, not sure as to who the pirates were fighting, but it seemed as if everyone was suddenly in a trance, which kept on breaking and emerging again as they attacked the other force.

Suddenly, a guy rushed to where you were tied up, cutting your ropes and pulling you up as you struggled against his grip, tears flowing down your cheeks with the chaos around you, no energy left in you.

The ship wasn’t in control anymore, the waves overpowered the balance, the sweet melody in the background loud enough to put you in a trance, your eyes shifting from the blue of the water to the sea cave which shone bright, embedded with the prettiest set of stones you had ever seen, along with the creatures you didn’t know existed till date.

You weren’t sure what you felt as the ship flipped completely, the screams muffled as you came in contact with the water, your eyes closing as you failed to try to swim, the coldness of water making it harder.

However, you were pulled to the side by someone, your eyes barely open to take in the sight of what looked like a tail, its scales mixed with a palette of blues, dark greens, slightest shades of purple and pink merging together to form a luminescent look.

Your eyes closed shut yet again, and the creature took you deep inside the siren caverns, helping you up on the flat surface of the emerald rock, looking at you with dark, curious eyes.

You were far from the water where the bloodshed had taken place, the pirate crew along with the prisoners long gone, devoured by the mer-people, who once looked like the prettiest entities on earth, now seemed to be no less than demons with their claws out, sharp canines on display as they munched on their new food source.

But not the siren who was with you.

He looked ethereal with the white glow around which illuminated his figure, one strand of his dark hair braided intricately, tiny flowers adorning them as he looked down at your unconscious figure with a slight tilt of his head, holding himself up on the rock, letting his tail rest in the water.

Your wet dress was now clinging to your body, beads of sand on your skin and your breathing uneven, eyes threatening to open again with distress.

He didn’t move when you opened your eyes, which were full of hurt and exhaustion, you couldn’t scream in fear. Instead, you found yourself staring back at him just as curiously, taking in the pretty moles scattered all over his body, his soft glistening pink lips with fangs peeking out and resting on them. You took notice of the dainty jewelry he had adorned, from his necklace to his ear cuffs, from his arm cuff which barely contained his muscles to the gold chain he had around his slender waist, you observed it all.

He was the prettiest creature you had ever come across.

He wondered why he was so fascinated when he was supposed to hate your kind, the kind which destroyed his kingdom.

But not you. You looked lost, scared, as if the humans didn’t show mercy to their own kinds too, he was intrigued, his heart beating faster taking in the soft glow the carven stones reflected upon you.

“Let me go,” your voice came out breathless, body shaking with the cool air around you, caressing your soaked body.

His expression didn’t change, however you could see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your plea.

He took a hold of your chin, sensing your fear heightening with his move, “what’s your name?” He asked, voice smooth as if his siren tone was trying to comply you to answer him.

Your voice came out in a whisper as you told him your name, which he repeated after you to get the pronunciation right and you suddenly felt as if your name was the prettiest thing you’d ever heard.

The small moment was ruined the second other sirens came swimming into the cavern, hissing as they saw you but they stopped the second they noticed another siren with you.

“Fuck! Let go of me,” you exasperated, not wanting to become food for the bloodthirsty creatures.

His gaze was stoic all of a sudden as he addressed them, paying your words zero attention, no traces of kindness as his loud voice boomed in the area, “touch her and you die,” he warned everyone, the fear evident in their eyes as they bowed down, swimming back into the depths of the ocean.

“How?” You breathed out, and he turned to look your way again, cupping your cheek, sudden warmth blooming in your body and you were torn, trying to decide if you wanted to hate him or not.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and you gulp, shaking your head despite knowing that you had nowhere to escape, but also slightly aware of the fact that you felt a pull towards this siren, and it scared you even further. “Don’t be difficult,” he warned.

Slowly, you parted your mouth, observing his next move. He was quick to snap open his heart shaped pendant, taking a white pearl out and placing it on your tongue, the taste buds already delighted at the sweetness the pearl harboured.

“Eat it, it’ll help you breathe in the water,” he said, eyes so dark yet shiny.

“No! What? No, I can’t go in there—” you looked horrified at the idea.

He simply looked at you, “you have nowhere else to go. So, it’s either you follow me, or you become food for the others,” he said, referring to the sirens which you had encountered a few minutes back.

He left you no choice, his gaze sharp as he waited for your answer. With a gulp, you nodded, choosing to follow him as he saved your life, finally intaking the pearl, watching him nod with the slightest upliftment of his lip.

“Come,” he extended his hand for you to take.

“Wait,” you stopped him, “what’s your name?”

“Sunghoon,” he spoke, voice rich as he finally held on to your hand, intertwining your fingers, “and you belong to me now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to react pulling you with him. Panic seeped through you, which was soon replaced by shock as you could easily breathe under the water, as said by Sunghoon, who held on to you tighter, taking you deep inside the water.

You were mesmerized by the schools of fishes around you, coral reefs of all colours decorating the sea. Nothing felt real to you anymore. It was too surreal to be real, especially the siren next to you, who had his eyes set on you.

You didn’t know what was to come.

If someone told you you’d be visiting a royal palace deep inside the sea then you would have laughed in their face.

However, now that you had actually reached such a place, trying to hold in your panic, you weren’t sure how to react, granted that you had pinched yourself a few times to wake up in case it was a dream.

Which wasn’t the case sadly.

The shock was clear on your face when the tailed guards with tridents bowed down looking at Sunghoon. The place was epitome of beauty, decorated with underwater planktons and shells, the merfolks eyed you with curiosity, to which you held on to Sunghoon’s arm tighter.

“Why are we here? Don’t tell me you’re a prince,” you said, still wondering how you got to breathe under the water, also staring at the big shell covered with foam, a few mermaids sitting there, whispering amongst themselves but it was clear that you were the topic of their gossip.

Sunghoon didn’t answer your question, taking you into a big chamber which seemed to be his room, and you stilled, thinking that maybe he did belong to the royal family.

“Jake, come here,” Sunghoon called out, revealing a siren with an elegant, green coloured tail.

He bowed down the second he was summoned in front of Sunghoon, “yes, your majesty?”

“Set up a chamber with no water. It should have the atmosphere similar to that of the land. Also arrange human clothing as per the size of my princess,” he ordered, eyes flickering towards you when he spoke the last part and Jake bowed down, leaving you both alone.

“Y—you’re actually a prince? Oh god, I can’t be staying here—and what do you mean princess?” You rambled, losing your mind, your eyes comically wide at this statement.

It must be a joke, it has to be a joke.

“Shh,” he came closer, trapping you against the wall, “I told you, you belong to me now, princess,” he spoke up in his ever so silky voice, his eyes glowing.

“But—”

“Oh, princess,” he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, “you’re cute if you think you have a choice, there’s no way to go back now, the ship is destroyed.” His voice came out deeper than you had expected, lips brushing against your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

“You know this is kidnapping, right?” You tried to argue.

“Not when you want to be here,” he retorted, looking back at you, his pointy nose caressing yours, “you can fight all you want, princess. It won’t change the fact that your heart beats fast whenever I come close to you,” he says, pulling back with a smirk and swimming away, leaving you all alone in his chamber.

You couldn’t move, as if he saw right through you when he mentioned your heartbeat, because no matter how hard you tried, even you couldn’t convince yourself that you weren’t a flustered mess around him.

You didn’t know how they managed to set up a chamber without the water but somehow it happened, and in record time too, which had you sighing with pleasure when your feet finally landed on the floor.

Meanwhile, you were conflicted again, not sure if you’d be okay alone in a room, but at the same time you didn’t wish to sleep with Sunghoon (read: you feared you’d lose control around him) but the thought didn’t bother you for long as you sat down on the big foamy bed they had arranged for you, along with myriads of clothes in all colours and patterns, majority of them consisting of silky dresses, the fabric more watery than water itself.

You half expected Sunghoon to visit you before sleeping, which didn’t happen and you couldn’t deny that it disappointed you, granted you knew no one but him.

Your feelings were all over the place, nothing felt real but you weren’t sure if the reality of being on land would be any better than the comfort you’re seeking being under the water, away from the danger as you remembered that you indeed have someone who’s willing to save you.

Yet you can’t help but want to fight him for being so unnecessarily cocky, then again, he was a prince, and a siren prince at that, you couldn’t blame him for the way he was.

Sleep came easily, especially when you were in the comfort of the foamy bed they had arranged for you while you were clad in the silkiest night slip you found in the grand closet, which again was arranged for you in record time.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but your body needed the rest, and by the time you woke up, all your little wounds and bruises were gone from the fight yesterday, not to mention how you were surrounded by a bunch of curious mermaids who were sent to take care of you, their tails had turned into legs as they entered your room.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” you spoke awkwardly, glad that they weren’t being rude to you, but they were curious about you.

“Does his highness talk to you?”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Prince Sunghoon never brings anyone back to the palace, you must be really special to him.”

All three spoke up, making your eyes go wide, “he doesn’t?” You ask and they shake their heads to confirm the statement.

You feel your cheeks beating up, trying to look elsewhere to calm down. The mermaids were nice, taking you to the royal bath first, also fetching you some human food, surprisingly the most scrumptious one you had ever consumed.

However, they were quick to leave the second Sunghoon arrived at your chamber, his tail too getting converted into long legs, his torso on display but his legs covered with a blue-green silky cloth wrapped around his waist, being the same colour as his tail.

“Slept well, princess?” He asked, approaching where you sat down on your bed.

“Don’t call me that, I won’t ever be your princess,” you breathed out.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue, face indifferent as if he was expecting this exact reaction.

He came closer, observing your face where the scratch wound had been previously, he smelled like fresh ocean breeze, the kind that makes you feel alive even on the dullest of your days, and you couldn’t help but clear your throat and look away.

“How do you have legs now?” You asked, deviating your attention, but he continued staring at your face, “don’t you have princely duties to take care of?” You asked, trying to get him to talk, but again, he continued to stare at you, his head tilting slightly as you gulped, not looking into his eyes.

“Taking care of my princess is a part of my duty,” he said as smooth as ever, leaving you speechless yet again.

You didn’t notice the necklace he had in his slender fingers, made up of prettiest shades of little shells. It was delicate, almost magical with how sparkling it looked to the eyes, “got them made from the rarest shells of the kingdom,” he spoke up, inching closer to help you wear it.

His touch was cold, juxtaposing the trail of warmth he left he left behind as he clasped it behind your neck, your eyelids fluttering close at the proximity, a shiver running down your spine as he whispered into your ear, “I found the necklace pretty, but you made it look prettier.”

It was impossible for you to stop thinking about Sunghoon it seemed, even more so when you had the prettiest necklace resting on your clavicle. It was as if the water around you had some sort of magic which made your mind drift back to the certain dark haired prince over and over again.

Maybe it was because you were in his kingdom, or maybe because he was a siren, the creature famous for its manipulative skills. Yet you knew he wasn’t using his siren voice or anything related to that when he talked to you.

Shaking your head, you focused on exploring the palace with your three new friends, the mermaids you had met earlier in the morning. The word pretty would not be enough to describe your surroundings as you observed the tiny pink seahorses moving around in a line at the back gardens of the palace.

“I see how envious everyone is, their stares could actually kill,” one of the mermaids spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys hate me?” You grimaced while asking.

“Because the prince has his eyes set on you and you only—also, we are his cousins so we don’t really like the whole idea of incest,” they explained with soft smiles.

“Oh—” you said out loud before they nudged you to look at the person who was already present in your chamber, none other than your prince.

A sudden wave of giddiness travelled down your body, leaving just as quick when you mentally reminded yourself to not fall for his antics. He was a siren chasing a human girl after all.

“Prince Sunghoon. What do I owe this pleasure for?” You ask, standing in front of his taller frame as your friends leave you in privacy, closing the door behind them as they leave.

He stood with his back facing you, and that was a dangerous sight already with his muscles flexing at every little movement of his.

To prevent this from happening (read: your mind going mush at the sight of him), you moved swiftly and situated yourself in the comfort of your big bed, his eyes observing you carefully, just like always and the action was enough for the corner of his lips to lift up ever so slightly.

“Prince and Princess should sleep together, don’t you think so, pretty?” He asked in his velvety tone.

Each time you try to step back to calm yourself, Sunghoon comes up saying something bizarre, leaving you more disoriented than before.

“W—what are you talking about? We’re not even married yet—”

“Yet. Well, I’m glad to see you being enthusiastic about it,” he mused, harbouring a lopsided grin as he neared you.

Your mouth was open as you tried to display just how against you were of the idea, “I’m not marrying you,” you confirmed.

He rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, pulling you closer effortlessly, enough for your face to be inches away from him, your legs dangling on either side of him as he stood in between your legs.

“Cute,” he chuckled, taking the authority with less to no effort, his sharp fangs on display as he grabs your neck in a swift moment, the action has you seeing stars even with the lack of pressure on his hold, other hand caressing your bottom lip with his thumb, brushing the same spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—”

“Y’know what, princess? You remind me of this little creature I came across when I visited your land. She was just like you—hissing and scratching till I got down on my knees and gave her gentle caresses on her back,” he told the story, making you freeze on spot, his voice captivating, “such a sweet kitten she was. You’re the same, so violent despite being a cute little kitten, all you need is a gentle caress—” he caressed your cheek to make a point, “to have you mewling like a kitten.”

You couldn’t stop the little whimper escaping your lips the second he said so, proving his point even further as your cheeks burned with embarrassment? Proximity? His fingers around your neck? Or the way he made you mewl exactly like a cat? You couldn’t decide.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He smirked, leaving you alone for the night, speechless as ever.

You couldn’t, for the life of you, face Sunghoon after the little stunt he pulled last night and you did everything in your power to avoid him the following day, which he found amusing as he watched you swimming away from a distance, using your pretty legs in the middle of other sirens, the necklace still wrapped around your pretty neck.

Others complained how he didn’t smile much to none, which changed when he found himself smiling with his dimples on display at the sight of his cousin mermaids giving you various sea flowers, tucking them behind your ear, which made them glow. The bioluminescence felt like magic to you as they glowed when you smiled, moving around and discovering the secrets these deep waters held, your eyes meeting Sunghoon’s for a brief second when you realized he’s watching from the balcony of his chambers. Your breath hitched, the sight of his torso never failing to get you flustered as you averted your eyes to focus on something else—anything else.

You couldn’t help but admit that you enjoyed this new life, and that you were grateful to be alive, to be saved by a certain siren who was in your mind twenty four seven, the circadian clock adjusting to your new ways of living.

You watched yourself in the big reflecting surface which served to be the mirror in your room, your skin had a newfound glow and your body looked pretty clad in the blue dress which was lighter than the air, the fabric almost felt like silky fluid.

The noise of shuffling behind you caught your attention, and you simply assumed that it would be Sunghoon who had come to visit you again, which wasn’t the case as you turned around to see an ugly siren with its claws out, reaching out to you with the most gut wrenching scream it could muster.

Your eyes widened, hands covering your ear to save your precious eardrums, crouching down to save yourself.

Maybe you said it too early, maybe this life was just a little something god had given to you before trying to snatch everything away from you, including your life. You waited for the attack, you waited for the trident to pierce your body.

Yet the attack never came.

With your body shaking, you dared to open your eyes, only to find Sunghoon with his eyes pitch black as he held on to the other siren by its neck. His grip was strong, the sound of bone crushing only made you look away in fear, “how dare you—” he spoke up, voice loud and shaking with anger, “—try to hurt my princess?” He didn’t hold back anymore, slamming his head on the floor, blood splattering everywhere, a few drops landing on his face.

Sunghoon didn’t wish to drag it long, especially when he knew that you were terrified, “clean it up,” he ordered Jake, who was quick to oblige his command.

“Princess,” Sunghoon spoke up once you were alone in the chamber, his voice gentle as you looked up at him through tears, noticing that the siren was nowhere to be found, “he’s gone, he won’t be back,” Sunghoon told you.

You stood up shaking, rushing into his arms. Sunghoon was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, the other hand resting on the back of your head, patting you gently to calm you down.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “why did he come after me?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“He wanted the crown, so—so he went after the person I cherished the most,” Sunghoon told you earnestly, trying not to kiss you the second you used the nickname.

“Please don’t lie to me,” your voice came out as a whisper, lower lip jutting out in a pout. You couldn’t resist him anymore.

He cradled your face, his fingertips soft against your skin, providing you with the warmth you had gotten so familiar with over the past few days, maybe it was the way he had protected you since the day he first laid his eyes on you, maybe it was how he never failed to express his emotions when it came to you, speaking whatever came to his mind, maybe it was how his eyes were full of love and a promise of something more.

That’s what made you want to kiss the prettiest creature you had ever met.

His touch was light as the feather, which allowed you to move swiftly as you got on your tippy toes, placing your soft lips against his rosy ones in a quick kiss.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, the tenderness lingering behind on your lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. He bit his lower lip, pulling you closer by the waist, his body pressing against yours as he pulled you into a feverish kiss, the kind that leaves you breathless, his lips slotting against yours in a perfect manner, as if puzzle pieces put together.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed out the second he separated from the kiss.

“Why? Don’t you want your princess now—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was picking you up with ease, lips on your again, his muscles flexing as he carried you to the bed, getting on top of you, giving you a second to breathe.

It was the way he stared so deeply into your eyes, it had you melting in his arms, “want you,” you admitted, “so much.”

His smile was wide, mesmerizing you to the point you had to lean on your elbow, kissing his dimpled cheek before trailing kisses down his jaw. The peck on his Adam's apple however, was enough to drive him over the edge.

You looked so pretty like this, lips glossy and eyes begging to have more of him, all of him. It was like a tune playing in the background when he dipped down to trail kisses all over your clavicle, sucking love marks all over your previously untouched skin, his fangs digging into your flesh slightly, providing you with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, your back arching as he got rougher with his approach.

His touch was electrifying as he grabbed the curve of your waist, “you’re my human, all mine,” he mumbled against your skin. If his voice was alluring for you then every inch of you was alluring for him.

Your dress was easy to remove, soon thrown on the ground, exposing your body to Sunghoon, who swears he’d worship you each day. You squeeze his bicep, holding on to him tight, his finesse showing as he takes your tits in his mouth, squeezing the other one when you moaned, no room in between you for any air to pass through.

He continued kissing lower and lower, covering the expanse of your body in a silent prayer. He was claiming you his.

Lifting your legs on his shoulder, he continued peppering kisses all over your lower abdomen, your fingers tugging on his silky roots to get a grip, pretty whines leaving your lips, telling him to stop teasing.

He couldn’t ever deny you, now sucking on your clit, tongue tasting every drop of your arousal, prodding your entrance. The brush of his nose on your clit had you shivering with need, “Hoonie,” you whispered, eyes closing at the unadulterated bliss he provided you with.

He fucked his tongue into your hole, desperate to have your taste all over him, the rings on his fingers juxtaposing the warmth of your body as he held your thighs open, his shoulders providing to be sturdy and strong for your legs.

It was too much, your hands were sweaty, now gripping on the silky sheets as you stared at the watery ceiling, which reflected the lewd image back at you—Prince Sunghoon buried in your cunt, immersed in eating you out, wanting to have every inch of his princess.

Your back arched into him, craving more of him as you felt your high approaching with the spasming of your pussy, your body not being able to handle more of his ministrations, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, lewd noises all around the room as you finally orgasmed, telling him taste all of you.

“Fuck, you’re my sweet nectar and I’m obsessed,” he muttered, coming up to push his tongue inside your mouth, the kiss deeper than ever as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You didn’t even notice when he unpinned his cloth from his waist, the delicate chain and ornaments decorating his perfectly sculpted body as you finally saw him—long, thick, and hard for you. Your mind blanked out, it wasn’t gonna fit, but you couldn’t help but whine for more.

“Make me yours,” you whispered, and he pulled you impossibly closer, as if trying to meld his body with yours, your arousal had his lips glistening, his eyes turning dark again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” he spoke in a deep breath, pumping his cock a few times, “all mine,” he pecked the corner of your mouth, chuckling as you chased for more.

And he gave you exactly that, your eager holes taking him in slowly as he pushed himself inside your warm cunt, the walls clenching around, trying to adjust to his length and for a second you forgot that you were being fucked by a siren, his cock too perfect, too big for you.

“Oh god,” you cried out as he pumped himself into you slowly, trying to fit himself into you by each thrust. You were so fucked out already, wanting to kiss Sunghoon every chance you got and you were afraid of how fast you developed feelings for your pretty siren.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl,” he praised as you took him in fully, his cock snugly fit inside you, your toes curling with the overwhelming sensation. He grabbed your hips, pistoning into you harder, faster, panting near your ear before keeping his forehead against yours in hopes of mapping out, learning and remembering every expression of yours.

Oh you looked beautiful.

The moonlight coming down from the mirror-like ceiling only casted a glow on you, making you seem even more magical than Sunghoon thought you are and you wanted this moment to last forever, his cock twitching and hitting the deepest spots in you, the spots that had your mind shutting off.

“So—so close,” you whimpered, and he held on to you tighter.

“Let go, princess. Come for me,” he said, kissing your tears of pleasure away as he too rushed to fuck you harder, making sure you felt every inch of him in your core, filling you up as you heard sweet melodies, as if you had reached heaven, you both coming undone together, holding each other with need.

He kissed your temple, caressing your cheek before placing sweet kisses all over, telling you how well you did, before saying something that made you cry out of what you’d call love.

“I used to sit on the rock staring at the moon, my mother told me I’d get my soulmate soon,” he said, looking at you softly, the look in his eyes was enough to confirm that you wanted to stay with him for life.

“And now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go, princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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neptuneiris · 2 months ago

Text

Cruel Summer (01/10)

Sunset's Bay

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: There are two sides to the city of Sunset's Bay, the rich who live in 'Crown's' and the poor who live in 'Black Waves'. What happens when a rich guy and a poor girl meet and inevitably fall in love? In the city where they live and with their status, that can't be possible.

words: 5.8k

series masterlist • next part

I wasn't sure about posting this but if you like the story I will continue with it, it all depends on how you receive it😬

in case you like it, I want to advance that the story will be a kind of forbidden love by the fact of rich and poor hehe and I have a lot prepared, basically everything is already written, I just need to structure it in a better way

this has only been an introduction to the world of Sunset's Bay, so I hope you enjoy it and the warnings will be added as I post the chapters if you like it🤗

so enjoy!

Sunset's Bay.

The hidden but mostly inhabited beach on the California Coast, with golden and white sands that slide into crystal clear waters of such a deep blue that it seems infinite.

According to Google, it is one of the most beautiful beaches in Northern California and where teenagers living in surrounding cities yearn to come every time a new summer begins.

Sunset and sunrise on these waters are beautiful, as they transform the horizon into a palette of vibrant colors, from warm shades of gold and pink to soft purple and the deep blue of night.

Every summer, the beach comes alive with exciting surfing tournaments, as well as Sunset's Pier, the midpoint of the beach where everyone mingles, transforms into charity events with live music, fireworks and lamp shows that illuminate the night with a mesmerizing light show.

Boat and yacht rides add a touch of sophistication to the coastal scene. This allows tourists to explore the waters beyond the beach, visit small islands up close and enjoy the serenity of the open sea.

But on top of all that, everything is meticulously maintained, most of it, like the clean, spacious beaches, adorned by palm trees swaying gently in the sea breeze.

And your favorite section, the volcanic stone cliffs that are distributed in specific locations on the beach, offering rocky walls as you sit on the seashore behind you and all around, emerging as natural guardians of the beach.

And from their heights, you can take in panoramic views of all the beauty of the landscape, encompassing the vast endless ocean and coastline to the endless horizon.

You always looked forward to coming here as a child when a new term at school ended and your mother was always willing to come and spend the vacations with your relatives, the Blackwoods.

They always welcomed you and your mother and together with your cousin Alysanne, you had an amazing summer.

Ever since you were little, you have always been tattooed with the memory of the sand on your feet, the salt air in your nostrils, the water enveloping you completely and the sun in full sunset caressing your whole face as you watched it on the horizon starting to descend on the shore of the beach with the cliffs behind you.

And now, that's all you know, a life in Sunset's and your frequent days at the beach.

Living with your aunt and uncle and Alysanne in a house big enough to also make room for you on the beach shore, this has been your home for exactly a year now.

And now summer has begun.

"Sam has sent a message."

You raise your gaze to Alysanne as you finish cleaning one of the tables.

"He says to meet him at the beach with the others in the evening. Do you want to go?"

You place a small smile on your lips.

"Sure."

"Table nine!"

You both turn your heads toward your boss, who looks at both of you as if he wants to kill you at any moment, and you quickly rush to serve the food, briefly wiping the sweat from your brow to keep working.

"Hurry up, Blackwood," Mr. Frey tells you reluctantly as you begin to pick up the orders on the tray.

You let out a long breath and glance at the clock briefly before going to serve, realizing that you will have to put up with this for four more hours and for the rest of the summer as well.

Unfortunately you and Alysanne have to work, as it has been for some months now at a seafood restaurant where the 'rich' people from this side of the city come to enjoy the delicious food.

And because of the summer, the work has increased. But that doesn't stop them both from having fun now that summer has begun.

So as soon as you and Alysanne finish your shift, you head home as soon as possible and start getting ready to meet your friends at the beach.

Previously going out and having fun was a problem for Alysanne's parents, your aunt and uncle were not the liberal type, but as soon as you both started working and helping them with the household expenses with what you could, they started to be more permissive and understanding.

And this is your home, the less ostentatious side of the city, but still genuine.

Once you join Sam and all the boys on the beach, you head for the small boat floating near the shore.

It is not a luxurious boat, much less can it be compared to a boat or yacht of the latest model, but it is a modest boat that has seen many summer seasons.

And it has taken them all to many spots on the beach and you have shared many anecdotes on it.

And as the boat glides through the calm waters, you and Alysanne enjoy the laughter and stories shared by the boys from the neighborhood, Sam, Daniel and Chase.

The three of them have been childhood friends of Alysanne's and when you came to live with her officially, she introduced you to them and now you all have formed a group of friends where you enjoy afternoons like these with Sam's boat and where you also go swimming and surfing all together.

The sea breeze caresses your faces and the sun slowly begins to descend as it paints the sky in warm golden tones, until the afternoon turns into night.

And on the beach, with a campfire in the center, the starry sky above and all together in a circle, you start burning marshmallows and drinking beer.

"And tell us..." speaks Daniel, watching you both curiously, "How about the slave life for the rich people?"

You and your cousin let out a small laugh.

"Slaves?" you repeat amused.

"Well yeah, come on, you said your boss... what's his name? Grey? Payne?"

"Frey," Alysanne corrects him.

"Yeah, that," he points to her, "He's a jerk or not?"

"And no concept of patience and prudence," you add.

"I imagine the ones who eat there are worse, no?" asks Chase.

Daniel snaps his fingers at him.

"Lannister?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. Jason Lannister has that vibe."

"I put him in the top one of the most hated, along with the Baratheons. And I have a feeling the Arryns do too, I don't know why," Daniel again looks at you both, "Right?"

"You work for them," Alysanne tells him amused, "Don't you know that?"

"Well, it's not like they can tell me much for cleaning their boats and yachts but... no–they're extremely nice, though..." he holds up his finger with a thoughtful expression, "Though I think there must be something wrong with them."

Alysanne lets out a snort.

"They're rich and live at Crown's, practically owning all the establishments on the beach just like the Lannisters, Baratheons, Tyrells and others leaving nothing for us, the poor ones, because they despise us," she says with an ironic but true tone "Of course there must be something wrong with them."

"One time one of them didn't leave me a tip," you say, remembering, "The Tyrell's."

Sam looks at you amused.

"Tips are not obligatory."

"Oh come on," you retort, with a touch of irony, "They're rich, they can have yachts and mansions, but can't they at least give me a five percent tip?"

"Yet it's not obligatory."

Everyone lets out a laugh.

"Yeah, it's not the nicest place to work and the customers aren't necessarily nice but the pay is good, after all," Alysanne says as she shrugs.

And that's true.

Even though it's not a good work environment, the necessity is what makes you not quit and endure as much as you can. Even though your aunt and uncle are taking care of you and taking responsibility for you, you know you can't continue that way forever.

You want to be independent, pay for your own things, especially you want to pay for college, but to do that, you have to work and now this is the job.

Besides it's useless to find work elsewhere when the owners are still the same; rich and arrogant. And you can't find work on your side of the city because the pay won't be much or maybe they won't even hire because they can't afford it.

But right now, being here enjoying the summer with your friends and your cousin, you allow yourself not to think about it and just continue to criticize the rich people.

And after many cans of beer, Chase picks up his guitar and you all together start singing in the most off-key and horrible way possible, laughing amongst everyone with the jokes filling the air, just like the heat of the flames and the aroma of roasting marshmallows.

"You had a party and didn't invite me!?"

Almost everyone together turns their heads unexpectedly toward the approaching outside voice laden with amusement and mild reproach.

And then they all see Cregan Stark with a huge grin and a bottle of beer in hand.

The guys soon start showing off at the mere sight of him, making jokes and greeting him with great enthusiasm, as Cregan greets them.

And you just watch Alysanne with a sly smile, amused by Cregan's sudden appearance, but of course, she quickly hides all traces of whatever her reaction is to seeing him, adjusting her expression to one of neutrality as she tries to appear disinterested.

But you know.

And you're amused at how she acts as if you don't know her.

Cregan Stark is the spoiled son of one of the wealthiest families in Sunset's, living in one of the most exclusive areas on the Crown's side.

His appearance reflects his status; brand name clothes, really expensive accessories, late model car and an attitude that denotes familiarity with luxury. However, despite his wealth, Cregan has proven to be different from other boys in his social environment.

Although he has access to all the luxuries, he does not carry with him the air of superiority and arrogance that many would expect from someone like him and that those of his class usually display.

In fact, Cregan became friends with Chase, who works for his family in the ports.

And it was Chase who introduced him to the group and although at first no one felt confident with him, Cregan instead of imposing his status, imposed a genuine and friendly demeanor that won the friendship of everyone in the circle.

Later everyone understood that he doesn't really enjoy being with people from the same environment as himself. The wealthy teenagers he usually hung out with, for the most part, were overly judgmental and arrogant.

So thanks to Chase, he found company with all of you, the guys from across the city who don't have a mansion and all the money in the world, but who are genuine and free of pretense.

Despite the looks people give Cregan for not understanding his choice of company, he deliberately ignores them. His parents don't say anything to him either, although he says they clearly prefer that he stop interact with you.

"I am deeply, intensely and extremely offended," he says expressing mock indignation, holding a hand to his chest, watching you incredulously but amused.

"Come on, man, don't get dramatic," Chase tells him giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

"Yeah, we're just getting warmed up," Sam encourages him.

"Besides..." says Daniel, in an exaggerated tone, "We can't send messages across the beach, us poor people have to use carrier pigeons like the olden days to get anything to you, but guess what... we're so poor we can't even afford pigeons."

Everyone lets out a laugh, enjoying Daniel's humor in implying the differences between the poor and the rich on the beach.

"Stop, seriously, why didn't you guys tell me you were doing this?" Cregan asks, taking a seat on the logs.

"I heard there's a party on your side of the beach and I figured you'd be heading over there," Chase tells him, "Which you did, didn't you?" he points to the beer in his hand.

He lets out a long breath.

"Yeah but it was pretty fucking boring."

"Boring?" you repeat incredulously, "A party with a DJ, champagne and yachts I highly doubt is boring."

"Well, not that it wasn't fun," he says looking around and observing everyone, "But I wanted this, to be with you guys, the atmosphere."

"And how did you know we were here?" asks Alysanne curious.

"I didn't exactly know," he smiles at her, "So I just decided to come and try my luck."

"Oh man, stop it or you'll make me cry," Daniel jokes, holding a hand to his heart.

"He loves us, doesn't he?" asks Sam, with a smirk.

"Yeah, he definitely loves us."

Everyone laughs and you watch discreetly as he and Alysanne start throwing their little looks at each other.

"Party with DJ and yachts? Man, if I were you, I'd be enjoying that," Sam confesses, shaking his head in a gesture of incomprehension.

"It's not big deal and people are hateful, believe me."

No one argues with him about that but you too sometimes wish you could have fun like that, have the experience of going to a beach party like the rich kids in the movies, just once.

But the time will come, someday, there are still many summers left to enjoy.

The conversation flows as the boys settle around the campfire, the warmth of the fire contrasting with the cool night breeze blowing in from the sea.

The atmosphere is filled with laughter and banter, and the relaxed beach setting becomes the perfect backdrop for a night of genuine camaraderie.

Cregan, with his carefree and genuine attitude, seems to fit right in with all fo you and that he values sincere company over superficial luxury.

And you don't know exactly how much more time passes or how many beers that Daniel brings back the theme of the rich party on the other side of the beach.

"Hey, Cregan," he says, leaning forward with a mischievous expression, "Since you're here, why don't you take us to that party? I'm sure it's not as bad as you say."

Cregan raises an eyebrow, amused but surprised.

"What?"

Something about Daniel's words clicks in everyone's head, even yours, so you quickly exchange glances with Alysanne. And Cregan notices how everyone starts to truly consider it.

"Do you guys really want to go to that party?"

"And why not?" asks Alysanne, with an grin, "I'm sure we can have fun, even if we're not part of the rich circle."

"Yeah, and besides..." adds Sam, with a persuasive tone, "It would be interesting to see what the other side of the city is like from the inside. We've never been to a party like this."

Cregan seems to think about it for a moment, looking at the boys with a mixture of doubt and amusement.

"Seriously you guys are telling me this? The rich haters?"

You shrug.

"The rich hate us too."

"And that's precisely why we want to go," Sam says, gesturing animatedly, "We want to try something different. And who knows, maybe we'll give you a good reason to have a little more fun at that party. Right, Chase?"

Everyone looks at Chase, who shrugs.

"I guess that wouldn't be bad."

"But you haven't thought this through," Cregan insists, "As soon as they see you all, they'll know you're not like them."

Everyone looks at themselves and well... he's right.

The rich, especially those who are the same age as you, have a radar to recognize someone who is just like them... or not.

But you don't blame them, since you have them too, the difference is that you don't make disgusted faces or criticize in whispers as soon as you notice.

You notice your two-piece bikini top is wrinkled and is clearly second hand, besides your worn-out sandals. Alysanne is also in the same condition as you and the boys... well, they're worse.

Sam's shirt is torn, Chase's is torn, and the clothes are visibly secondhand.

"We have better clothes at home," you tell Alysanne and she nods.

"And we take our shirts off and stay in shorts," Daniel says, in solution, "Are we at the beach or not?"

"And if something goes wrong, we can always run out and come back here," Alysanne suggests.

Everyone nods and basically watches Cregan with puppy dog eyes, hopeful that he will take you to his kind of people.

"What do you think, Cregan?"

Cregan is silent for a few seconds, his gaze sweeping over the group around him, analyzing and thinking about all the things that could go wrong. And he doesn't pass up the abandoned cat look that Daniel and Sam throw at him.

And finally, he lets out a laugh and a resigned sigh.

"All right, all right. I'll take you. But if we have a bad time, don't say I didn't warn you."

"That's what I like to hear!" exclaims Sam, raising his arms in victory.

"We won't regret it."

"We may not but the rich will."

"Thanks, Cregan," says Alysanne, patting him on the back.

You frown as you watch her gesture and also notice Cregan's confused look for a moment, but go back to watching the boys.

"Well, then let's go before I change my mind."

You put out the campfire, pick up the trash and with laughter they all very animatedly walk away from your spot on the beach, heading first towards the trash cans and then towards Cregan's car.

"You do know Cregan likes you, don't you?" you say to Alysanne, walking a little further away from the guys.

She gives you an incredulous look.

"What?"

"Oh come on and you like him too, don't deny it."

"Of course I don't."

"Of course you do."

"You're crazy."

"And you won't stand a chance if you keep treating him like just a dude."

"Oh yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

You let out a laugh, understanding that it will be difficult for her to accept and share it with you, so you give her time. The guys behind you laugh too, with the echo fading into the salty air, leaving the sea breeze and the sound of the waves behind.

The difference in locations is completely noticeable.

You leave behind the small wooden houses, the unkempt streets, the establishments where you and your friends can shop, the bicycles and old cars, to move to large neighborhoods with green grass, trees and bushes on every corner with huge luxurious houses, almost mansions with modern cars and expensive decorations.

The guys are excited and so are you, as you have never explored these sections of the beach before, which are completely exclusive and with access for the rich people.

Obviously there are entrances with booths and security guards, so Cregan's appearance alone proves he's a Stark and he's allowed in without objection.

And soon enough, you arrive at the party.

"Oh my goodness, look at this," exclaims Alysanne, wide-eyed as she takes in the scene.

"That's a Prestige F4?" asks Sam in surprise, eyeing the luxurious yacht in the distance.

"Seriously, how much money do these people have?" mutters Daniel, in shock.

"More than you'll ever have," Alysanne tells him with a smirk as you all walk onto the beach illuminated by the party lights.

"You don't know that," Chase replies to her, pretending to be offended, "Maybe someday I'll get rich and buy one of those," he points to the yachts.

"I'm very offended that you didn't invite us to your parties sooner," Daniel says to Cregan, putting a hand to his chest as if he were badly wounded, "How could you hide all this from us?"

"Don't draw too much attention to yourselves, guys," Cregan asks with a mixture of concern and amusement in his voice.

"We won't," says Sam, "We'll just enjoy ourselves apart from the others but inside, you get it?"

The music starts to get louder and soon enough, we are inside the party.

Blue and purple neon lights illuminate the white sand, creating a dazzling contrast against the night sky. Waves break gently on the shore, almost muted by the music vibrating through the air.

There is indeed a DJ from a raised platform and most of the people here dance in the center to the music, some with cocktails in hand, bottles of champagne or recording the moment on their phones.

Near the dock, several luxurious yachts are docked, all decorated with lights flashing to the rhythm of the music. There are people inside them, enjoying the party from right there.

Some people get off the yachts to join the party on the beach, while others stay on board, enjoying the view and the exclusivity it offers.

If not beer, there is a bar offering a variety of exotic drinks and gourmet appetizers, such as sushi, caviar and canapés.

And throughout the party, groups of people are spread out, chatting animatedly, laughing, toasting and dancing. There are also party games, such as beer pong and spin the bottle.

While others gather around improvised campfires farther away near the sea, where the atmosphere is more relaxed, watching the spectacle around them.

The air is permeated with the smell of sea salt mixed with expensive perfumes and the sound of laughter and music all along the beach.

It is a party that clearly reflects the wealth and status of their hosts, as well as the people present; pure spoiled kids with rich parents.

"Are we going to have fun or what!?" exclaims Sam excitedly, fully entering the party and everyone follows.

Chase convinces Cregan to be worrying since most of the people here are in their own world and he doubts drunkenly checking to see if they have the latest model Iphone or what.

And honestly you relax too as everyone here is having fun and you along with Alysanne look more presentable in nice bikinis.

They are second hand still but they are more cared for than the others you have.

Sam quickly orders drinks, surprised and excited to have gotten a bottle of champagne, then Cregan and the others take him and you and Alysanne to a more secluded spot.

You make a space for yourselves on the sand, a bit secluded from everyone, having the view of the huge luxurious houses, the cliffs in the distance and also the illuminated yachts on the dock behind you.

Pretty soon you have your beer and start enjoying yourselves just like everyone else, not worrying too much and just pretending you are one of them all.

Mingling with the rich at Sunset's pier is one thing, since the pier is the center of the entire beach and there are no prejudices there, but now pretending to be one is completely different.

You find yourself watching everyone around you when Alysanne nudges you slightly and points her gaze to a specific spot.

"Look at that."

You follow her gaze and see a group of girls.

"That bracelet is from Pandora, I saw it on Instagram."

From here you can see how their gold and silver necklaces and bracelets sparkle. Also the bikinis they have on are beautiful, certainly brand name. There is also a girl with a Guess bag and they all have the latest Iphone model in their hand.

And you turn to Alysanne with a shrug.

"Why are we judging when it should be the other way around?"

"We're not judging, we're just noticing the differences between girls like them and girls like us."

You both let out a laugh.

"You definitely want that Pandora bracelet, don't you?" you look at her amused.

"And you don't?"

The two of you continue to observe or rather admire all those rich girls who have fancy accessories when suddenly you hear a specific boast behind you.

You turn your head and see the dock, noticing how some impeccably dressed people are boarding one of the larger yachts docked near the shore.

And there they are.

You think as you make out those distinctive black, red and silver hair.

Of course they couldn't miss a party like this, the sons of the most influential families in the city, the Lannister's, Baratheon's and Targaryen's, practically the elite of Sunset's.

You've seen Cerelle, Tyshara and Loreon Lannister before on the Sunset's Pier, their red hair gives away who they are instantly. They always brag about their luxurious yachts, cars, jewelry stores and everything else they own.

Their father, Jason Lannister, has built an empire based on shipbuilding and port development.

From what you understand, his company designs and manufactures some of the most advanced and exclusive ships for the world's elite.

In addition to this, Lannister also owns a network of ports and shipyards on several coasts, allowing him to maintain a steady flow of wealth through port fees and contracts with global corporations.

This influence has given him a prominent place among the city's powerful and his family has inherited not only his fortune, but also his imposing and domineering character.

So it is no surprise that the Lannister's are typical spoiled children with clearly very wealthy parents, as are the others, especially the Baratheon's, Cassandra, Maris and Floris.

Known as much for their tanned skin and peculiar dark hair as for their arrogant attitude, they always seek to be the center of attention at any such social event.

Cassandra, the eldest, has a dominant bearing and never misses an opportunity to show off her status. She is also the best known of the daughters to go out every now and then with a boy from an important family either from the city or abroad.

Next, there is Maris, the quietest of the three and the most reserved, but still, as you have heard, just as spoiled and boastful as her older sister.

And finally, Floris, Cerelle's best friend and supposedly the most arrogant, capricious, shallow and boastful of the three.

She is the one who seems the sweetest at first glance, but her spoiled nature soon becomes evident when something doesn't go her way.

You also know that there are two other children, a daughter and a son, Ellyn and Royce, but apparently Ellyn prefers to stay at home and Royce does not live here.

Her father, Borros Baratheon, is a most important and influential shipping magnate and merchant in the region, known for his connections with outside businessmen.

He owns one of the largest commercial fleets operating along the entire Pacific coast. You don't know exactly what it's about but the guys have talked about how his company specializes in logistics and shipping goods across the ocean or something like that.

And finally, the sons of the most powerful family in the entire city and the entire country, the Targaryen's.

Viserys Targaryen is known as the most powerful man in the entire country and by extension his entire family as well. He owns one of the largest and most influential corporations in the region.

Your uncle Ben always had a kind of admiration for him, though your aunt always expressed her dislike of him, as well as the other families, for simply being other greedy money-rotters who drive up the costs of the city for all that they invest to elevate their status and leave you poor people increasingly difficult to make a living.

You honestly couldn't agree with her more, but the Targaryen's have been forging their main empire here in Sunset's for a very long time now and there is nothing that can really be done about it.

The Targaryen business empire focuses on multiple sectors, but they are best known for owning a very prestigious bank, where they serve wealthy elites and large corporations, as well as financing large scale projects, such as real estate developments, technology or even public infrastructure.

You understand that he has built and manages shopping malls, corporate skyscrapers and exclusive developments in major cities across the country, as well as high profile tourist destinations like Sunset's.

So basically all of them and him especially have total control over the financial resources of the region, as well as infrastructure and development in the most luxurious sectors.

Although Viserys and his wife Alicent are no longer seen as much at events this side of Crown's and on the pier, their influence still shapes everything that happens here.

"Hey."

Sam snaps you out of your thoughts when you feel him tap you on the shoulder and you turn your head towards him, confused and attentive.

"Hm?"

"What are you looking at?" he asks you amused, sitting down next to you and offering you a new bottle of beer.

"Oh, no, nothing, just..." you shake your head, taking the beer and not paying attention to the son's and daughter's of rich parents.

But Sam had followed your gaze before.

"I know, they're beautiful, aren't they?"

You immediately watch him intently.

"Who?"

"The yachts," he tells you as if it's obvious, "Imagine spending a whole weekend on one, just doing this..." he points to the beer and all the partying, "In the middle of the ocean."

You let out a small laugh.

"That's your biggest dream, isn't it?"

"And for the yacht to be mine, obviously," he says excitedly, turning his gaze back to the dock where they all are, "If I used to see them from afar and feel envious, now it's torture to have them so close."

You look to where he sees and he has a very good point. They could live perfectly well on one of those yachts and there would be no problem, which is also one of your dreams.

"Oh, come on Sam," you give him a friendly smack, looking at him again and you notice the gleam of longing in his eyes, "Surely your charm can make a girl from Crown's fall in love with you and let you enjoy the amazing yachts."

He looks at you incredulously.

"A Crown's girl with someone like me? Are you kidding?"

"It's not impossible," you shrug.

"Oh yeah, here at Sunset's everything is impossible if you don't live on this side of town."

And that's another good point and very true.

Daniel joins you and Sam's little group and you stop paying attention the moment you turn your gaze back towards the yachts and them specifically.

This time you focus on the Targaryen's, Helaena, Aegon and Aemond.

Surprisingly, despite being in the top tier of the wealthiest and most powerful family in the entire city and country, compared to the Lannister's, Baratheon's, Tyrell's, Arryn's, Stark's and Greyjoy's, they are not so smug, superficial and arrogant.

Although, come to think of it, the only exception is Aegon.

The eldest of the brothers, he is characteristic of his carefree and arrogant attitude. His life is summed up in parties, girls and excesses. Everyone knows him, he is the soul of the party and drives all the girls crazy.

For him, life is a game where he always wins. Sometimes he seems like the typical privileged son who has never had to strive for anything, but his power lies precisely in that.

Then there is Helaena, the only sister among the Targaryens who has a pleasant and gentle presence.

Although she is rich, the richest of them all and extremely beautiful, she doesn't abuse it, she doesn't show it off, she's not shallow or arrogant, besides she's always looking out for her siblings.

She is the kind of person who doesn't need to shout to be noticed and with just a quiet smile, she earns the respect and admiration of those around her.

You know a little about her as Chase has a little now not so secret crush on her and honestly you don't blame him, she is absolutely beautiful and even kind, which is rare due to her provenance.

And finally there's Aemond, who of all them, he's always been... different.

Where Aegon is shameless and carefree, Aemond is calculating and serious. Always impeccably dressed, with an expression that doesn't say much and keeps him at a safe distance from most.

From what you've heard, he's extremely intelligent, he's also reserved and quiet, the complete opposite of Aegon.

There is also a rumor about him about his left eye, something about an accident as a child and where he apparently wears a prosthetic.

You don't really know much about it or him but he's always been intriguing and mysterious, in a way.

You focus on him specifically, watching him from a distance, curious, as he takes a seat on the deck with an expression you can't read as it doesn't tell you much.

You watch as his short silver hair moves slightly in the wind and breeze, as well as he watches everything around him intently, to again focus on his siblings and Floris.

Floris is his girlfriend, apparently they have been dating for a few months now and have given a lot to talk about since no one expected Aemond to even date anyone.

But there they are.

You watch as Floris approaches him and takes a seat on his lap, looking radiant in a tight dress and a huge smile on her face, but he, on the other hand, remains expressionless.

Floris murmurs something in his ear, to which he responds with a slight smile, but averts his gaze to the horizon. However, she gently takes him by the jaw and leaves a soft kiss on his lips.

They begin to kiss and you look away, trying to refocus on the party and enjoying yourself here with your friends.

However, being here with all these wealthy people, especially the Targaryen's, you can't help but feel that divide about the rich and the poor at Sunset's.

You feel like you live in two different worlds, where they, the rich, live a life completely oblivious to the concerns of the people on the other side of town, in Crown's.

While you and the others work in the restaurants, clean their yachts, boats, houses and make sure their lives are comfortable.

They float above it all, the Targaryen's, Lannister's, Stark's, Baratheon's and so on, attending parties and making decisions that only benefit their own.

But you, the poor, the ones who live in Black Waters have nothing, you don't have the money, the influence or the power. Even the name of your side of town is a mockery to them, the rich, in despising even more the poor who don't have what they have.

But that's the life in Sunset's Bay.

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern hotd #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #modern aemond #modern au #aemond one eye #aemond x oc

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harrysfolklore · 6 months ago

Text

vogue beauty secrets - jacob elordi blurb

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

YN's Guide to Glowing Skin and Easy Everyday Makeup

"Hey everyone, It's YN," you said as you stood in your bathroom, face bare of any products and a comfortable top on, "I'm going to be talking you through my skincare routine and my everyday makeup look."

"Just so you guys know, it's really early over here," you said as you took out your products from your skincare bag, "My boyfriend is still sleeping I think," you smiled at the mention of him, "You might know him from his bathwater in the movie Saltburn, I don't know if you're familiar with that."

Playfully talking about each other in interviews was a really common thing for both of you and Jacob to do, and fans absolutely loved it.

"So first things first, gotta cleanse the face," you showed your cleanser to the camera and then applied it to your face smoothly and washed it off, "Now this face mask, has gotten me more compliments about my skin than anything else I've ever used, even Jacob is obsessed with it and steals it from me all the time," you couldn't help but mention him again, "So I will do a generous amount, which is like pea size for me."

You applied the face mask all over your face and waited 15 minutes to take it off and move on to your makeup.

"Before applying any makeup, we need to put sunscreen on," you showed the bottle to the camera, "I never leave the house without this, I have one in my bag at all times. It's so important."

You rubbed the product all over your face, making sure to cover every inch of your skin correctly.

"So, let's start," you grabbed your makeup bag and took your foundation out, "I'm obsessed with this illuminous silk foundation, I discovered one time I visited Jacob on the Euphoria set and I saw the makeup artists using it, it has been my go to ever since."

You grabbed your pink beauty blender and gently applied the foundation on your face, getting closer to the camera to show the process better.

"I learned how to do my makeup by watching how other people did it," you said as you applied the product on your nose, "I think I've gotten very good at it, or at least I would like to believe so."

"Now, It's time for concealer," you showed the product to the camera, "We're running low people, someone might be stealing some from me," you said as you tried to grab the most product you could and applied it under your eyes, "Okay, concealer is done, now let's do some contour."

Just as you grabbed your brush to apply the contour, you heard some noises coming from the bedroom, "Guys I think Jacob just woke up," you said as you moved the brush around your face, "So we have to be very quiet so he doesn't crash my video, okay?"

You heard the bedroom door open and some footsteps down the stairs, and you guessed that Jacob was looking for you in the kitchen.

"Alright, contour is done," you continued in a hushed tone, "Now, let's move on to blush." You picked up a peachy blush and lightly applied it to the apples of your cheeks, blending it out with your fingers. "I love this blush because it gives such a natural flush to the cheeks, perfect for everyday wear."

Next, you reached for a neutral eyeshadow palette and selected a soft brown shade. "For my everyday makeup look, I like to keep it simple on the eyes," you explained as you applied the eyeshadow to your lids, blending it into the crease. "Just a wash of color so I don't look completely dead."

"Now, for my favorite part - mascara," you exclaimed as you held up a mascara tube, "I think mascara is a game-changer. It instantly opens up your eyes and makes you look more awake."

You applied a few coats of mascara to your lashes, making sure to cover from the roots to the tips.

"YN?" you heard Jacob's voice calling for you, making you instantly laugh.

"I don't know if you guys heard, but Jacob is calling for me," you said as you checked your mascara in the mirror, "Let's ignore him until he figures out I'm here."

"Now, last but not least, lips," you said as you grabbed a nude lipstick. "I like to keep it natural with a nude shade for everyday wear." You applied the lipstick to your lips, finishing off the look.

Just on cue as you applied the last touched of lipstick, you heard the bedroom door creak open behind you. You turned around to see Jacob standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted him with a smile, trying to stifle a giggle at his sleepy state.

"Morning, love," Jacob blinked a few times, trying to wake up fully, "What are you up to?"

"I'm filming a skincare and makeup video for Vogue," you explained, motioning to the camera set up on the counter. "I was just finishing up, actually."

Jacob walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at the camera.

"Oh, am I interrupting?" he asked, glancing at the camera with a devilish grin.

"Just a little," you chuckled, "But it's okay, you can join if you want."

"Nah, I'll let you finish," Jacob leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "I'll just be in the background, quietly judging your makeup skills," he teased, earning a playful swat from you.

"Hey, I'll have you know, I've gotten pretty good at this," you said, pretending to be offended.

"I know, I know," Jacob laughed, planting another kiss on your cheek, "You always look beautiful, even without makeup," he said sweetly.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "Thank you, babe, you're really sappy," you replied softly, turning to give him a quick kiss.

"I'll let you finish your video. I'll make us some breakfast," he called out as he disappeared from view.

"Well, it looks like I've got breakfast waiting for me," you turned back to the camera, a smile still lingering on your lips, "I better wrap this up," you said to the camera, giving a little wave. "Thanks for watching, and thank you Vogue for having me, I hope some of this beauty tips are helpful for all of you. Bye!"

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hisui-dreamer · 9 months ago

Note

Can I have orange blossoms with jade leech for eternal love and marriage please? Thankyou!

is it love or just really nice flowers?

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: jade likes giving you flowers, it probably doesn't mean anything special though... right?

Tags: fluff, pining, slowish burn, eels are cowards, mentions of marriage, reader likes flowers

Word count: 1.2k+

Notes: thank you for requesting anon!! i had a lot of fun squealing when writing this one hehe

Masterlist

flower of choice: orange blossoms

orange blossoms symbolise eternal love and marriage, and they are often used in wedding ceremonies as symbols of purity and eternal love

You suppose it all started on your first Valentine’s Day in Twisted Wonderland.

As a member of the Mostro Lounge staff, you found yourself amidst the bustling atmosphere of the Mostro Lounge, where Azul's ambitious plans to capitalize on the love-filled holiday were in full swing. The lounge pulsated with the presence of couples occupying every available table.

Soft, dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, enveloping everything in an air of intimacy and mystery. The gentle hum of conversation and laughter filled the air, mingling with the smooth melodies of jazz music drifting from hidden speakers.

Couples nestled into plush velvet booths, their faces illuminated by the soft light, lost in each other's eyes and whispers. Waiters moved gracefully between tables, delivering trays adorned with exotic beverages and plates of delectable meals, their steps silent against the plush carpeting.

But what caught your eye the most were the bouquets given to significant others, adorning the tables like precious jewels. Each one was a masterpiece in its own right, meticulously selected and arranged to convey the deepest sentiments of adoration.

"It must be nice receiving flowers…" you murmured to yourself, lost in thought.

“You would like to receive flowers?”

You snapped your head around at the sound of Jade's voice, finding him with a curious expression on his face. Surprise flickered in your eyes at his question, but a smile bloomed on your lips as you considered receiving flowers from someone.

“Yeah," you replied, a hint of longing in your voice, "who wouldn't? Receiving gifts makes you feel so appreciated. Plus, who wouldn't be happy looking at something pretty?"

Jade took a moment to mull over your words, his gaze thoughtful. Eventually, he nodded in agreement. "Hmm… I see. That does sound quite lovely," he acknowledged.

The conversation was quickly cut short when new orders and tasks arrived. In the whirlwind of never-ending tasks, the conversation had slipped from your mind almost entirely, until he appeared later that week, returning from a hiking trip with a delightful surprise in tow.

"Here, Prefect," he began, his voice gentle as he produced a bouquet of orange blossoms from behind his back. "These are for you," he offered with a soft smile.

The bouquet was a sight to behold, a delicate ensemble of ivory-hued blooms that exuded an ethereal beauty. Each flower boasted star-shaped petals, arranged in a symmetrical fashion around a central cluster of stamens. These stamens, adorned with tips of yellow to orange hues, stood out like tiny flames amidst the pristine white petals, adding a touch of vibrant colour to the otherwise pure palette. With their intricate details and subtle fragrance, the orange blossoms seemed to radiate a quiet elegance, captivating all who beheld their serene charm.

You couldn't help but notice the faintest flush of pink tinting his ears, and your own heart skipped a beat in response. You were well aware of the symbolism behind orange blossoms—eternal love and marriage. But surely, Jade couldn't mean that, could he?

"You brought these for me?" you asked, a mix of surprise and delight colouring your tone.

Jade nodded, a warmth spreading through him at your delight. "Yes, I thought you might like them," he admitted softly.

As you accepted the bouquet, a rush of emotions flooded over you. The delicate scent of the orange blossoms enveloped you, filling your senses with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. Mesmerized, you found yourself unable to look away from the vibrant blooms, each one a masterpiece of nature, without a single flaw in sight.

Jade's gaze remained fixed on yours, his expression tender and sincere. It was as though he was studying your reaction with unwavering attention, and a flutter of anticipation stirred in your chest at the vulnerability he revealed.

"Thank you, Jade," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity. "These are beautiful."

A relieved smile spread across Jade's face, his eyes alight with a mixture of joy and relief. "I'm glad you like them," he murmured, his voice tinged with warmth.

Though you’re not sure why, Jade had made it a habit to always bring back a bouquet of orange blossoms for you from his hiking trips.

"It doesn't really bother me," he'd say with a closed-eye smile, "since it's on the way."

Each time he presented you with the blooms, your heart fluttered with joy. Yet, you hesitated to believe there were underlying intentions behind his gift. After all, Jade had always been kind to you, and you couldn't fathom the idea of him harbouring romantic feelings.

As the end of his third year at NRC approached, a bittersweet anticipation filled the air. The impending farewell weighed heavy on your heart, mingling with a sense of melancholy. Although Jade promised to visit during breaks and holidays, the thought of no longer seeing him every day stung with loneliness.

Summer break was nearing, and the campus was buzzing with students bidding farewells and exchanging hugs. Amidst the flurry of goodbyes, Jade sought you out, as he always did, with a bouquet of orange blossoms cradled in his arms. His smile was tinged with a hint of sadness as he approached you, and you felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him.

"These are for you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he handed the flowers to you.

You accepted the bouquet with trembling hands, the weight of the moment settling heavily upon you. The sweet fragrance of the orange blossoms enveloped you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to dispel the sorrow that threatened to consume you.

"Thank you, Jade," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion.

“I... I don’t wish for this to be the last time I give you flowers,” he confessed softly, his eyes searching yours with earnest sincerity. “Will you really not consider marriage with me?"

A heavy silence hung between you, each moment feeling weighted with unspoken words and unexpressed feelings. Then, Jade reached out to cup your cheek, guiding your gaze to meet his.

Caught off guard by his heartfelt plea, your eyes widened in astonishment. "Jade, I... I never realized... You…"

"But you knew, didn't you? You must have..." Jade's voice trembled with vulnerability. "Every flower, every gesture—it was all for you."

Your mind raced, memories flashing before your eyes like a vivid tapestry woven from moments shared together. Each bouquet, each flower—he had poured his heart into every gesture, his feelings hidden in plain sight all along.

Tears shimmered in your eyes as understanding washed over you like a gentle wave crashing upon the shore. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you realized the depth of his devotion, the sincerity of his love.

“Yes, Jade," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with certainty. "Yes, a thousand times, yes."

The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against yours in a tender, passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the sweetness of his kiss, and the promise of a love that would endure through every trial and triumph.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#jade “oh prefect likes flowers they can understand what im trying to convey... right?” leech #hehehe lovesick silly eel who does everything except confess is my favourite #✧2k! blossoming bouquets✦#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland jade leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade #twst jade x reader #twst jade leech #twst jade leech x reader

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milksnake-tea · 11 months ago

Text

━━ duty calls.

Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.

grim x gn!reaper!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit

word count: 4.2k

a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties

"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"

Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.

Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.

You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.

Bold words coming from a bringer of death.

“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.

“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”

You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”

“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”

“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.

“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.

“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.

The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.

“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.

You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”

“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”

“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”

“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.

“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”

“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”

“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.

“Let’s race.”

Casper raised a brow. “Race?”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.

It was… captivating.

“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.”

Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.

“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.

“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”

“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”

You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”

Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”

“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.

“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.

"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"

“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”

“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”

You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.

“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”

“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”

“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”

“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”

“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.

“So long, Casp!”

Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.

You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.

Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.

As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.

“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”

Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.

True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.

You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.

The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.

Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.

Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.

For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.

“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”

You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”

“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”

“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”

“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”

You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”

Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”

Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”

“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”

Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.

“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.

“I was honestly trying to forget.”

Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.

“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”

“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”

“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”

As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.

“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”

━

For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.

Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.

If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.

But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.

“...Snow.”

Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.

“He’s like snow.”

Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.

“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”

Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.

You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.

You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.

Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.

As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.

“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”

Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”

“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.

Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.

Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.

Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.

Even in defeat, he was beautiful.

You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.

“I win,” you sang mockingly.

Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.

“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”

“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.

“I don’t know, what does it mean?”

You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time.

To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.

But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.

━

The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.

You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.

For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.

Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.

When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.

Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.

He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.

The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.

However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.

Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.

But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.

The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.

Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.

Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.

As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.

Then came you.

Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.

He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?

His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.

“What do you want, Casper.”

Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.

“I…”

He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.

You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.

“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”

You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.

You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.

Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.

However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.

You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.

“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.

Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.

“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”

You hugged the plushie a little tighter.

“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”

Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Hardly anything is.”

“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”

“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”

“He won’t.”

Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.

“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”

“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”

“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”

Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.

“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”

Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.

“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”

“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”

You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”

Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.

“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”

“Mm… yeah. What about it?”

“I’d like to cash it in right now.”

“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.

Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”

You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”

Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.

In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.

“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”

His grip around you tightened.

“Please.”

You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.

“...I promise.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#a date with death #a date with death x reader #adwd #adwd x reader #adwd casper #adwd casper x reader #casper x reader #casper #x reader #y/n #reader insert #grim reaper #grim reaper x reader #archives 🏵️

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yuoimia · 11 months ago

Text

I GUESS IT WAS UNAVOIDABLE

summary: turns out you got a cold - not to worry, your boyfriend is here!

characters: alhaitham, diluc, kazuha, wanderer.

notes: new year, new theme. wc: 1.2k total, gn! reader, petnames, angsty in diluc but it fades into fluff, thought i was real funny in wanderer’s, you’re sick.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ dreamy december event masterlist

alhaitham

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You shoot him a stern look alongside your words, taking a generous sip of the warm honey water swirling in your favourite mug. Its comforting warmth immediately eases the sharp pain in your throat down to a low throb, as its aftertaste proves sweeter than the concoction yesterday night.

Alhaitham assesses you from the foot of your shared bed, his face a mixture of contemplative, exasperated, and amused. How rare, your predicament must be concerning enough to expand Alhaitham's devastatingly frugal palette of emotions. What an honour.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mutters, letting out an exasperated sigh. “It’s up to your interpretation of how I look at you, actually.”

Despite his sharp tongue and the knowledge that he’s pickpocketed this debate, leaving you nothing but suffocating gloom, the anxious face staring upon yours shows nothing but genuine worry.

“Your fever is easing,” Alhaitham notes, his voice trailing off as he watches your body shake from a particularly violent cough. “Although, I strongly suggest that you go back to sleep.”

If the cold hadn’t snatched your usual, more energised self, leaving this crippling state equivalent to lying on your deathbed (it really wasn't), then you wouldn’t have second’s hesitation in replying with a sharp response contrasting whatever Alhaitham just said.

But right now, with the decorative array of warm lights illuminating the room, it casts a spell on your tired senses as the slow song of sleep cradles you away.

diluc

No amount of your most persuasive chants is able to coax that stupid idea away from him.

Dawn Winery was one of the many sponsors for Monstadt’s annual winter markets, an exquisite yearly event composing of streets after streets lined with cosy stalls lit with soft fairy lights, late nights sprinkled with the frosty taste of freshly fallen snow as everyone stayed up as late as the moon’s guidance, laughter and cheer dancing through the night.

Wasn’t it only obvious that the stall’s demand was going to skyrocket?

Wasn’t it obvious that you would think of assisting, even if it led to seeing the cracks of dawn?

That’s what you argued earlier, about twenty minutes ago, as if you were more concerned with his rationality than your spiralling fatigue. Which, to be frank, you were.

His hand was intertwined with yours, desperately tight, strong like the gaze falling from those eyes, rimmed with the reasoning for empty tissue boxes. Those hands were squeezing an ailment into the emptiness of your veins, leaving his desolate. And that’s when you snapped. How could he give it his all if he gave it all away?

Even when you cried, even when you yelled, even when you were on the verge of giving up, Diluc never once faltered; he adapted each time to defy what gnawed you, and perhaps he will go with these silent battles to win the golden hope restorative for you both.

Midnight. That same hand clambers up, searching for yours, finally finding it and squeezing it once, for you. Only this time you squeeze it back, twice.

kazuha

Those lacy curtains awaken a myriad of joyous senses, the strengthening sunshine warmly caressing the surface of your skin, leaving a glistening glow, while the tickling breeze drifts away the last of your drowsiness through the window.

What a beautiful day, you notice as you stretch the aching muscles in your neck and shoulders. The simple sight of sunshine releases a blossoming feeling of positivity that is likely going to be engraved into the roots of your day.

As you finish up with the basic stretches and shuffle on to tackle your shared bed, taking the covers in hand and connecting them to their respective corners, something on your bedside table catches your eye.

You were mere thoughts away from the impending decision to investigate, and this part you’d like to blame Kazuha for his chosen timing to start prepping breakfast.

Not just any typical breakfast, you might add. Your favourite.

It’s instantly recognisable from the first delicate wafts seeping into the bedroom. And it’s not exactly an exaggeration when you admit that your body and mind halted. Completely ceased, flabbergasted personified.

That peculiar guest on your nightstand was all forgotten the moment you stepped foot into the kitchen.

“Good morning, sunshine,” a particular poet smiles over as you take a seat opposite the counter.

“Feeling better? I left the last of your cough medication on your bedside table so you’d remember to take it.”

He passes the plate, the masterpiece of the morning by far, almost too perfect to eat.. but then it all comes flooding in. Starting off with a few waves in the form of muffled words, and then the tsunami hits, the biggest wave, the recollection of memories.

"Ah..." is all you reply with.

Kazuha lets out a good-natured chuckle, subtly surveying you as he does. “Well, it doesn’t look like you need it, anyway.”

wanderer

One of the most eminent traits about your boyfriend was his determination—no, stubbornness—when it came to things that really shouldn’t concern him, especially if they sincerely nettled him so much. So simple that it confounded you why it never occurred to him to try and mind his own business for once. You frequently muttered under your breath how his behaviour reminded you of some toxic grandma living down the street.

Additionally, he should consider that you’re a human. A human who experienced things every other human did, for example, colds. Inevitable and terrible, but everyone had them.

Therefore, he shouldn’t treat it too seriously.

Yet here he is, sleeping in the same bed, under the same covers, just a ghost of a touch away. Promptly declining your polite request that he should spend the night in the spare bedroom as you felt particularly sniffly and probably needed a tissue permanently attached to your nose for the night.

Sleep was playing an eternal game of tag, teasing you. You don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. You’ve finished many seasons of your delusional scenarios and are now left bare of anything to entertain until dreams pulled you into its whirlpools.

The rims of your eyes water as you attempt to hold in that itching cough, blinking the tears back, but it felt like a million deluxe feathers each performing acrobatics in your throat.

“You should probably let out that cough. You’re starting to look like you’re having a breakdown.”

With more strength than anticipated, you snap to face him, but not after letting out that wheezing cough that more or less rearranges your skeletal structure. His pretty face nodding sombrely into yours.

“I’m fine,” you burst.

“And I’m the Dendro Archon,” he acknowledged, passing you a tissue. “Have you not slept at all?”

“It’s playing a game of tag,” you sniff, with a tone that conveyed, you’re not going to get it.

“Just run faster,” he recommended, pulling you into his chest before you even have the chance to process what he just said.

#genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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atlaswav · 3 months ago

Text

EMPYREAN ☾

INFO: 4385 words, dr ratio x gn!reader, college au SYNOPSIS: Art is the practice of capturing life in still motion, and yet Dr Ratio can never seem to capture your beauty in its entirety in his sketches. His waking thoughts are clouded by images of you, the bane of his existence. He hates it, but can't resist. The Gods - if there are any - are cruel. WARNINGS: none! for once! except attempted kiss. AUTHOR'S NOTE: my head hurts so bad rn and i need sleep but there were thoughts in my mind. also i think its really boring lowkey but hey! i said i'd publish something by sunday! also i think his characterisation is really off today but oh well.

Divinity wasn’t real. There were no real Gods, they didn’t exist – couldn’t. Science proved such. Miracles were situations of insurmountable luck, and no one’s fate was “ordained” like astrology maniacs liked to think.

But when Icarus fell from the great skies of myth, reaching for the sun and Gods and the heavens beyond, Veritas Ratio was sure that the gnawing terror and morbid awe that seized that man at the sight below was familiar to him. That sprawling city touched by the sublime sun, smiled upon with the benevolent God peering through the clouds whose gaze melted fragile wax.

He was sure that that fear and unprecedented awe was the same as when he first glimpsed you.

His fall, however, wasn’t graceful or worthy of any legend.

“Oh– you alright?”

“My apologies, I–” he glanced up, leaning down to immediately pick up his sketchbook which had fallen to the ground, then he froze.

“...Are you okay?”

This, he wasn’t certain. You helped him gather his supplies again, and he thought he’d never see you again – there were so many buildings and so many classes, why would he? But as if fate was stringing him along, he wound up sitting next to you for his art studies class. The class he convinced himself he needed to take for a proper education.

Icarus’ fall was met with swift demise, and he was so sure that he would too. But who was he to compare himself to legends? Even still, why else would he be stricken by the malady of your existence, if you weren’t some overwhelming beauty that his greed desired to capture?

Art, however, could not capture life as any man would like. It could never catch the way light reflected in the eyes, illuminating the soul. Neither the delicate intricacies of a smile, a twitch of muscle, a beating of a butterfly’s wings, the delicacy of life.

Try as one might, however, Dr Ratio aimed to do this, anyway. Charcoal was his chosen medium, pervading clean paper, marking intent, focus and desperation.

He remembered you casting him a smile before seating yourself beside him, and all his doubts in taking the art course dissipated from his mind – despite your literal run in moments before.

You became immersed in the artwork at your fingertips as the professor chirped about something he should’ve probably been attentive to, but to him, it was now entirely meaningless. Your cheeks lifted when you smiled, creasing the corners of your eyes. Your hair fell over your face in graceful lines that framed your features, and your hands moved with such gentle dexterity that he yearned to capture them in his drawings. Your eyes narrowed in the slightest as your brush met the canvas, mouth agape with your fixation on your art.

The charcoal snapped, and Veritas Ratio likewise snapped from his immersion, frowning at the dark lines that marred the page.

In his sketch, your eyes were obscured by a wall of smudged black ash instead of the curtain of hair that covered your features. Ratio sighed, leaning back from the desk. Your eyes were now downcast on your palette as you mixed paints.

There was a divinity in you that he yearned to capture, like sunlight in a jar. Futile, but with noble intention, he swore to himself.

Then, there were more classes. More days that passed, more instances where he observed your habits, your artwork that had you enrapt, just as he imagined his own perverse captivation with you. There were more charcoal sketches in sketchbooks that never saw the light of day, ones where your smile was too wide, didn’t meet your eyes, or didn’t carry the exact expression that yours projected.

Art could never imitate life – Veritas was simply mortal. But mortals could always dream of something divine.

There were times where he left the classroom for a moment, and he feared you might glance over at his sketchbook to see the hundreds of sketches of yourself. Smiling and frowning and focused, the end of your paintbrush sitting absently between your lips, your gaze cast to the side, small splatters of paint smudged under your eyes and on your fingers. It was unsettling. He knew it himself. There had to be an extent to his observation when it became invasive, yet he feared losing your presence without ever capturing it in still motion.

This is when a man grows desperate.

“May I draw you?”

“...draw me?” you glanced towards him, reluctantly tearing your gaze from your own work. “Why?”

“A study.”

You smiled a half smile. An expression that he was familiar with, given that you were already halfway through the semester. Still, there was nothing to your encounters but smiles of courtesy and niceties (he’d never admit that he so desired more).

“Sure. Show it to me later.”

Now, Dr Ratio discovers, there are few things that may disturb a man’s endeavours when he is enrapt in his studies. None of which affected Veritas in the slightest as his charcoal became dust on his fingers and he clicked his tongue at the material’s reluctance to bend at his will.

None of which can successfully capture the being that is you, and he isn’t sure he wants to, anymore. Art isn’t made for the eyes of greed, it’s made for the soul that yearns for the cure of the senses. Or so the greats all say, but he thinks he cannot be one of them. He couldn’t imitate life, he was versed in the calculations of life instead.

Caught in his thoughts, he taps his – new – stick of charcoal on the edge of the drawing pad, frowning at the new sketch he was pondering.

“You’re really good.” your voice echoes from behind him.

He turns abruptly to find you standing behind him, head tilted as you examine his sketches. Your nose scrunches the tiniest bit, and your eyes crinkle with a hint of mirth.

“Does my nose really look like that?”

“Of course.”

You laugh at his blunt reply. “Can I see your other drawings?”

There are over seven thousand languages that still exist in the world, and Veritas Ratio cannot think of a better, more dire way to say no than to agree completely.

“Of course.” He flips through his sketchbook quietly, letting you glimpse his insanity. You were making him lose his mind, really. He watches your expression – how your eyes widen, your lips part, your brows furrow.

“Did you do all of this since the last lesson?”

No, but he wouldn’t say that –

“No, I've been studying you for a while.”

– Or maybe he would.

Your laugh is another divine thing that he wishes he can capture. “Oh God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. You make a good muse.”

“Do I?”

He nods, biting his tongue. He doesn’t want to incriminate himself any further than he already has, and he’s already become a stalker to you.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yes. Undoubtedly.”

“Consider me flattered, then…”

“Dr Ratio. Veritas. Veritas Ratio.”

“...Veritas.”

He loves the way your lips mouth his name. He’d never say it to your face, though. This, at least, would die with him.

“Well, thank you. You may return to your painting.”

You huff a laugh. “So formal. I’m nearly done, so I don’t really have anything urgent to worry about. Meanwhile you…”

He’s inclined to agree. The professor was checking everyone’s progress the next lesson, and he still hadn’t grasped what he thought to have been perfect.

“Ah. Right.”

“Do you want me to like… pose for you or something?”

He hesitates. Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe something about morality and art and the truth, but he doesn’t care anymore. “That… would be ideal.”

“Alright, but you’ll owe me as well. Deal?”

This is how Veritas Ratio finds himself pacing his apartment, fixing his hair in the mirror, dusting the tops of the bookshelves that line the walls and polishing the kitchen counter so that each surface is devoid of any evidence of his own guilty conscience.

His anxieties were immediately multiplied hundredfold when you knocked. He waited a couple of seconds – to not seem too desperate, with his heart racing out of his chest – then finally opened the door.

You stood there, smiling with such casual ease that he found himself wanting to know everything about you.

It was absurd.

A tiny, suppressed part of him welcomed it.

“Hey, Veritas,”

There it was again, the unfamiliar way you said his name, smile widening. He decided against a verbal reply, instead nodding and guiding you into his living room.

“You’re so… clean.” you glanced about the apartment, marvelling at how almost every surface had a shine to it. But it made sense, once you saw him sitting at the couch, already observing you with the unshakeable gaze you’d felt since that first class.

You weren’t entirely oblivious to his stare, just as you weren’t unobservant with the way his cheeks dusted with pink the day before – and today, it seemed – as he made eye contact.

You smiled, and watched him blink a couple of times before turning away with a cleared throat.

“Yes. I can’t stand a mess of any sort.”

“Figured.” you shrugged, standing next to him. “So, where do you want to start? What should I do?”

He hesitated for a second before directing you to the armchair across from him. “Just sit there for now. We’ll start here.”

You complied, allowing him to hurriedly arrange the folds of your clothes and angle of your limbs with fleeting touches.

He appeared nervous, but it was endearing.

Minutes pass by in silence, faint scratching of charcoal on paper filling the space between you. The sunset’s light poured in through the balcony behind you, casting a dramatic shadow over the armchair. Purple, orange, yellow – you wondered if that scrutinising look he gave you was disapproval or awe. There was no way of telling, with his complex set of facial-expressions.

But interpreting him through guesses wasn’t how you envisioned this would play out.

You cleared your throat, but he didn't glance up. He held the sketchbook up next to you, but quickly returned to the page, making harsh lines across the page.

“So… Veritas?”

His head snapped up, stray strands of violet hair splayed across his forehead. “Yes?”

“Why did you take art?”

His eyes narrowed on you. Examining, maybe. “I felt as if I needed to. For a well rounded study, of course.”

You laughed. “Of course you did.”

At this, he paused. “What do you mean by this?”

“Your reputation on campus. You have… what, four degrees? You’re famous.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, never putting down the charcoal, but tapping it against his fingers instead. “Oh? What else have you heard?”

“Well, they say you’re insanely smart, but you’re also pretentious.”

He frowned. The way his brows scrunched was endearing. “I’m not pretentious. Everyone else is simply far underqualified.”

“They also say that you’re an elitist.” you laughed.

Concern only grew on his expression. “Do you think this of me?”

You shrugged. “I’m yet to form an opinion.”

He nodded. “Good. Wise.” he said, almost as if reassuring himself.

“...How long will this be, though? I can only sit still for so long.”

He blinked, turning to the sketchpad again. “Not too long. I promise.”

“Can we go out to dinner, afterwards?”

At this, he choked. You stifled a laugh at the renewed blush on his cheeks.

“Dinner? Why?”

“You owe me, don’t you?”

This is when he realises that he was a fool in allowing you in, to allow the muse of his most divine visions to become human.

He’s greedy, though. No one and nothing can change this. He wanted more of you. He wanted to hear each thought that crossed your mind and know each little item that occupied your attention. He wanted to dissect your mind and examine your memories and behaviours like an insect splayed under a glass, and he wanted to understand you so well that he became sick with the thought of you. But in his mind, you could do no wrong. You were so divine; with your secret smiles that held secret thoughts, and knowing glances that examined his frame with an artist’s scrutinising eye.

“Fine. Just let me finish up.”

So you stay put, and you return to the thick silence that envelops the room. The clock ticking above the armchair only taunts you as your limbs begin to ache from lack of movement.

Scratching on paper, huffs of exasperation, the occasional tearing of a page, and he finally sighs, rising from the couch. The sun had long since set, only remnants of daylight still lingering on the sky’s deep blue. The light was gone. You wondered if he’d captured the sun in his drawing, as well.

“It’s done. Not good as the professor would like, but it will do for now.” he said, running a hand – dusted with black – through his hair. His forehead was coated in splotches of black thumb prints.

You similarly rose from the armchair, stretching, and walked over to the drawing on the coffee table.

You didn’t realise this was how you looked to him. Your features were only emphasised in the dramatics of the sunset, the slight turn of your lips and curve of your cheekbones accentuated with the shadows. He’d taken artistic liberty, you realised, in painting you within the sun’s dying light.

You almost looked divine.

“Holy shit.”

“Does that hold a negative connotation?”

“Veritas, you’re crazy.”

“...negative?”

“It’s so…” you met his gaze which was already searching yours for a reaction. “It’s brilliant. It’s so, so good.”

His shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Good. Let’s go to dinner, then.” he turns to leave, but you stop him, grabbing his arm. You found that it was hard as chiselled marble, and almost want to find out exactly what’s underneath, but you dismiss the thought.

“You have something on your forehead.” you point.

He frowned, rubbing his forehead with the same hand that had been gripping the charcoal for the past hour. Smudged it even further. His forehead was thinly coated in black ash.

You sighed. “Here, let me.”

He leaned down for you to wipe the stains, hair hanging over his eyes. He smelled faintly of the library with its old books, and partly of ink with something deeper. His eyes darted around to meet anything but your gaze, long lashes fluttering, crimson red eyes matching the shade of his complexion.

You make him nervous, you confirm with delight.

“There. That’s the most of it.” you withdrew, and he stood back up quicker than you thought possible.

“Alright, dinner, then.”

“Dinner.”

“I’ll go and… wash up.”

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

He realised how much he was doomed as the sky started to pour with rain, just as the two of you stepped outdoors, beyond his apartment complex.

“How far is the place you wanted to go?” he asked you.

“Not too far. Let’s just keep walking.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you. His steps were terrifyingly large, as would make sense with his tall frame.

“So what are your interests?” he blurts out, staring at the ground as he walks.

“Well, art, obviously,”

“Yes, of course, do you think I’m dense?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I will interpret that as sarcasm.”

You laugh, and as if the heavens had heard you, the rain began to fall heavier, darkening the landscape, tingeing the air with smells of petrichor and a cold that wasn’t there before.

Ratio thought it was ironic. A pathetic fallacy of his doomed fate.

“You have to be kidding me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. “We are unfortuitous.”

“...You could’ve said unlucky.”

“I choose not to associate myself with idiots.”

You chuckle as you attempt to cover your head with your arms, running to the nearest block for shelter. The rain, however, doesn’t desist. It continues to pour until you’re both soaked through – his hair soaking wet, sticking to his forehead, white shirt clinging to his carved abdomen that you desperately try to avoid looking at.

“Should we just go back?” you move your hair out of your eyes, squinting in the relentless downpour. Through the slight shelter of the building behind you two, the rain pours heavy as ever, unlikely to cease soon.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”

“...Why didn’t you offer it first?”

Because he thought you looked good in the rain with wet hair. He wanted to remember the image – burn it into his eyelids – before he returned to sketch it. Number of things he’d never say aloud: two.

“I was waiting for you to come to that conclusion yourself.”

“Pretentious.”

“Thank you. Now can we hurry? It’s only getting heavier.”

His situation, ironically, then becomes even more perilous. A series of unfortunate events, unfolding like a train of misfortunes. First, your meeting – strikingly uncomfortable for both of you, he imagined (it certainly was for him) – then your failed attempt at dinner, interrupted by an unforgiving rain storm. He didn’t think it could get much worse. But there was always room for improvement, as he knows better than anyone, the academic that he is.

There are, now, puddles of water throughout Dr Ratio’s apartment that he hadn’t bothered to clean since you got into his shower.

You, in his shower.

He wonders if there is a God, somewhere out there, delighting in his torment. It was never supposed to devolve into such interactions, only observing you long enough to capture your beauty on the page.

He wonders if you know he is thinking about you often as he does. Thinks you’d be completely repulsed by him. This is what frightens him.

“Veritas?” your voice echoes from within the house.

He gets up from where he’s sitting in a puddle near the kitchen, racing to the bathroom at your call. Did he manage to miss something incriminating in his bathroom? He’d made sure that every surface was bare before you entered, had he not?

“Yes?”

“...This is embarrassing. Can you please get me a towel?”

This felt like one of those cliches in romantic comedies that Ratio’s colleagues liked to watch. Mindless scenes of dry humour and burlesque attempts at “comedy” he found appalling. It was happening to him, now. Spiting his academic rigidity.

“Of course. One moment.”

He tries not to think about you, standing completely bare behind the door, as he sticks a hand into the bathroom, head turned away. If you looked closer, you’d have seen the bright red shade of his ears – but to his merit, you take the towel, shutting the door, a muffled “thank you” audible through the door.

He sighs, sitting on the floor beside the bathroom.

Whatever Gods there were, were bestowing great suffering on him today.

It takes a couple minutes for you to finish up in the bathroom. Another few more for him to wash up, and another handful of minutes for you both to be seated on the couch together in awkward silence.

You wear one of Ratio’s old shirts and shorts, scrolling on your phone, and he is sitting, arms crossed, on the opposite end of the couch, staring at you again. Outside, the rain still pours in unceasing rivulets, dissipating any ideas for going out for dinner.

He thinks his clothes look far better on you than on him. Thinks that you were made for this world and its inhabitants, crafted so perfectly. Wonders what wouldn’t suit your wear, because he can’t imagine anything that you couldn’t look good in.

“Okay,” you say, turning off your phone to stare back at him, “I ordered. Should be here in about ten minutes.”

He nods, and averts his gaze.

You smile. His behaviour is amusing.

“Veritas?”

“Yes?”

“What are your greatest fears?”

“Excuse me?”

You shuffle closer, and he notes a glint in your eye that suggests mischief. Teasing, as he’d seen before. “What are you afraid of? Like, the dark?”

“Nothing.”

“Boring. Come on, there’s gotta be something.”

He frowns, brows bunching together as he stares at the wall. An easy, natural habit. “Nothing. Fear is irrational.”

“Right.” you laugh at his blatant refusal to cooperate with you.

“Am I being funny?”

“No,”

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being so… unexpectedly childish.”

“What?” he seems to prickle up with indignation. “What do you mean?”

“Your stubbornness to just answer my question, and the way you’re…” you gesture to his posture, the way his arms are folded and he glares at the wall. “Behaving. It’s childish.”

“Well, what are you afraid of? Nothing, right? It’s a stupid question.”

“I’m afraid of insects, the dark, I could go on, really,”

Veritas glares at you, meeting your eyes for a second. “Fear is stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you scared of holding eye contact?”

At this, he blinks. He turns to face you, still frowning, but his gaze flickers between your eyes and the rest of your face. Your laugh only makes him roll his eyes.

“You really can’t hold eye contact, can you?” you say through a fit of giggles. “Have you ever dated?”

“Yes, I can hold eye contact,” – but not with you, it seemed. You intimidated him – “And no, I haven’t, it’s a distraction.”

“From what I’m seeing, you can barely even be near me without blushing.”

He blushes, breathing a sigh of exasperation.

“Dr Veritas Ratio’s one fear is making eye–”

Then he grabs your shoulders, forcing you closer, and holds your gaze with such intensity that the words disappear from your lips. You blink as his stare bores into yours, crimson eyes deep, shining with something unfamiliar to you that you realise you want to decipher.

People like to say that eyes are the windows to the soul, and Veritas Ratio’s was ridden with something that burned like the sun's dying light.

It’s then that you realise how close you are to him, how his firm grip on your shoulders softens and his touch drifts to hover above your jaw, how he smelled so inviting, familiar and distant all at once, and how his lips were slightly parted, how they looked so soft –

Knocking, at the front door.

You both tear away, and he stumbles to the front door to collect your delivery.

You never regret anything more than this moment.

“Delivery.”

You nod, obscuring your face with your hair as he sets down your meal on the coffee table.

You’re both back to silence, pleasantries and common niceties as the meal passes.

Neither of you meet the other’s eye.

Time ticks away as you finish your food and clean up, wiled away by carefully weighed words and half-met glances.

He hates it.

He hates how you were looking at him with such curiosity, and he hates how he let you tease him. He also hates the delivery man for not being delayed by the rain, but he also hates himself for not ignoring the knocks on his front door.

“I think I should go now.”

Yes, that would be best. “Why? It’s still raining, you could stay.”

“Well…”

He knows your dorm is far from his apartment complex. He knows that you’ll have to trek through the rain, and yet he also knows that if you stay, he won't be able to sleep. He still has images of you – fresh in his mind – to sketch onto the page.

“It’s no trouble.”

“Okay. I’ll stay the night.”

“You can sleep in my room.”

“But–”

“Don’t argue.”

Somehow, you’re inclined to do as he says.

Time, like all things, passes too quickly and too slowly all at once. Without time, nothing exists, but with it, it’s all too agonising to live through.

This is exactly how Dr Ratio feels as he sits at the coffee table, the small space dimly illuminated by a lamp, as the entire apartment is still. You’re probably sleeping, as he reminds himself, tearing another page out of his sketchbook, unsatisfied with his own hand.

The rain was now tame, a steady rhythm to his never-ending endeavours to capture your beauty on the page.

Maybe it’s when the charcoal snaps in his hands, or maybe it’s when his lamplight flickers that he decides that capturing life in still motion is helpless – a pointless and impossible venture that can never succeed.

You’re too deific to fit into a world of his creation.

What are supposed to be your eyes – painted with fervour, but lacking depth – stare up into the ceiling as he dozes off, charcoal falling from his hand, eyes drooping closed. Slivers of moonlight cut across your painted face as he slumps onto the table, snoring softly.

—

You wake to sunlight in your eyes, blinding and harsh, and realise where you are.

It all smells like him – that scent that you can’t place that smells good, and a lingering smell of the library with all its papers. It all smells like him, and when you walk into the living room, you find that his own apartment is completely devoid of any sense of himself.

But when you find him slumped at the coffee table, lamplight still illuminating the space with its curtains drawn and rays of sunlight peering through, he’s obsessed with you.

You’re unsure what, exactly, to feel. There are abandoned pages scattered all throughout the space, and unfurling one, you recognise your own face staring back at you.

Each and every drawing is of you – your hair wet, clinging to your skin, you drowning in his clothes far too large for you, or your face painted with curiosity and entrapment.

It’s you through Veritas’ gaze, and you think that beyond all else, he made you look divine.

When Veritas Ratio wakes to his papers – all wrinkled and partly torn – sitting in front of him, neatly arranged with a note on top, realisation hits him, but he can only laugh.

“Veritas Ratio’s greatest fear: eye contact with the person he’s obsessed with. Completely irrational – even though he can draw me perfectly from memory. A shame, really. Looks like you’ll have to invite me over to pose for you again.

So you can get my eyes right, of course.”

written by @atlaswav , published 26th of August 2024

#dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #ratio x reader #hsr ratio #dr ratio #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio hsr #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #ratio hsr #ratio x you #hsr veritas #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #ratio honkai star rail #dr ratio is desperate and really stupid giggles and kicks feet #his characterisation might be so fucking off im sorry #☁️. writing

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