#ah well old habits

[imagine-shenanigans]

hi! i LOVE you goap x reader fic. seriously, ITS SO GOOD OMG. i love the characterisation and how you write the dark content stuff. anyways, before i run up the word count i wanted to ask- do you have a update schedule for the fic? i seriously devoured the new chapter is not even funny 😭😭😭

IM CRYIN AND DIPPING YOU TENDERLY IN THE MOONLIGHT FRFR.

the fucking outpour of support and love has been insane on this fic like im not even kidding when i say i expected like maybe ten kudos max until i got further into the fic/itd been up awhile. it feels like being scruffed like a cat and held up high in the fandom. fucking insane.

anyway to actually answer your question before I go back to bed for a couple hours I do not have a schedule! I'll elaborate more and put a tldr lol. But I've found personally trying to keep a deadline has a negative effect on my writing, so what I've instead been doing is making myself write two chapters worth before i post one, or I at least have to have most of the second chapter outlined. So chapter 3 was posted after I figured out exactly how I want chapter 4 to go and got like. 1k into it. so chapter 4 will be posted when I get either all of 5 written or most of it outlined! Depends on the content of the chapter ngl

Since chapter 4 is gonna be like. all fucking porn I know theres nothjng I'll have to retcon/rearrange in 3 lmao

tldr- no i dont have a schedule, but i do make up for it with my insane ramblings on here and also in the fic itself teehee 💖

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

And now, some quick summaries of each below the cut:

Before the Last Petal Falls

A character study on Scarlet Briar; who she was, who she became, and how she got from point A to point B. Told from the fractured perspective of a mastermind who died burning the world she once used to love. Warnings for character death, blood, psychological horror, severe dissociation, unreality, and other related topics.

Hello World

Ceara returns to Lornar's Pass to fix another wrong of her past. Her steam creatures are still running amok even after all these years, and she's going to put an end to that-- one way or another. What she doesn't expect is to see just how far her creations have come. Maybe the dreams she once held weren't so far out of reach after all.

I Saw You Burning Like a Fallen Star

Set partway through Secrets of the Obscure, once Saoirse and Pirkko find themselves in Nayos for the first time. The more things change, the more they stay the same-- but sometimes new scenery can bring a fresh perspective, too, even on all the things you thought you knew.

The Illusion of Choice

Only one dragon remains; the great beast of the jungle, Mordremoth. Ceara knows now that it's all gone exactly according to its plan, but she never knew just how deeply they've all fallen into its claws. Nothing could have prepared her for what comes next. Mordremoth knows what her friends don't: Ceara's always been a monster... And now she knows it, too. Warnings for blood, death, implied cannibalism and psychological horror.

Every Genius's Dream

After living in an old Aetherblade Hideout for years in relative peace, Ceara has gotten quite used to turning away unexpected-- and generally unwanted-- guests. But this time the answer isn't quite so simple. One of the Commander's friends is knocking, and this one actually seems sincere. Or: Taimi and Scarlet finally have a much-needed talk about their history and where to go from here.

Loose Ends

Commander Pirkko doesn't get it. Saoirse could have killed her. Why did Scarlet's ghost stop her? What did she care? The spirit is a contradiction in every possible way, and her motives make Pirkko's head hurt. But as it turns out, the ghost doesn't intend to leave her without answers-- even if they aren't quite what she expects to hear. Warnings for dissociation, abstract violence, and unreality.

A Match Made in Hell

Ceara and Saoirse have no idea who these people camping on their front lawn are, but they aren't impressed. Gendarren Fields is supposed to be the middle of nowhere, what's their business here? Worse yet, they're weirdly perceptive of the pair and won't give any answers... And then the Commander shows up. That's when they know things are about to get interesting. Or: Ceara and Saoirse try to break into the Ward's camp at the beginning of Secrets of the Obscure and get a little bit more than they bargained for. Warnings for death, violence, and mild horror.

[bizarrelovetriangel]

missing you.

mdni. 18+ only. not for the kids, pls look away. male masturbation. panty sniffing. pillow humping. pervy caleb. caleb and reader/mc are in a relationship.

hello i'm joining caleb-the-panty-sniffer club and this is my contribution. please enjoy.

inspired by these arts: x, x, x

You were out of town for hunters business, and Caleb volunteered to check up on your house. While he's at it, might as well do some cleaning too.

But he gets a little distracted.

Last week, during your video call, you mentioned to Caleb that your team has been requested to go to a certain city that's been having Wanderer problems. The mission is estimated to last for about five to seven days, and you expressed concern about your newest plants that require to be watered at least every two to three days, which might die without your care.

So of course, Caleb is there to take away your worries. He promised to go to Linkon City in the middle of the week to make sure your plants get the nutrients they need.

Now here he is, inside your apartment's living room, putting away the objects that you'd left scattered all over the place. He imagined you putting things in your luggage at the very last minute before leaving for your trip. You've always done that when you were younger, and it seems old habits die hard.

Back when you were little, once you finish shoving plushies in your bag, deeming them to be absolutely necessary, you'd come to him so he can help you close the zippers.

This time, you didn't forget to take your plushies either. The Sunny Apple that he won with you at the claw machine was gone, which means it's probably keeping you company right now. The thought of you cuddling with the grumpy-looking apple puts a smile on his face.

After watering your plants, Caleb moved on to cleaning the kitchen. Your place isn't really messy; there are just several objects that were out of place, so there's not much work for him.

The last area that he took care of was the bedroom, where he will be sleeping for the rest of the week. The moment he entered your room, he was consumed by the smell of your signature perfume. If he were to close his eyes, it would feel as if you were there.

The scent also made him feel lonely. It's been days since he last saw you, as both of your jobs robbed you of each other's physical presence. Fortunately, once you return from your hunting trip, you two get to spend a few days together, so he's looking forward to it.

Caleb studied the collage of personal pictures you have on the wall, not too far from your nightstand. A lot of them are you and him from various age, a couple are of you and Zayne, plus a recent one with Caleb between you and the doctor.

There are also photographs of you with your coworkers, including the silver-haired guy that you're often partnered with. In all the group pictures, he's always, always next to you.

He's the one that's seeing all the cute expressions you're making right now.

Caleb shakes the jealous thoughts out of his head and lies down on your bed. It's the afternoon, just around the time for the sun to set. He's not sleepy at all, but the warmth and softness of your bed, combined with your fragrant scent, is just so alluring, his body was obligated to sink into it.

"Hmm? What's this?"

Caleb's left hand got a hold of something that you'd forgotten to either put in your luggage or put in the dirty laundry.

Something soft.

Something red.

His fingers grasped the material and held it above his face so he could see what it is.

"Ah...."

His face instantly feels warm at the sight of your underwear. Red panties.

He had seen you wear this before. He also remembers, quite vividly, him sliding it off your legs before pressing his lips and tongue at your core like a starving predator.

He rememebered how you felt. How you tasted.

His mouth watered.

His cock hardened.

His fingers twitched as he lowered his hand towards his face. Caleb closed his eyes and pressed the panty against his nose.

"Fuck..."

His other hand rose to his chest as heat from his rushing blood spread across his body, down to his stomach, through his hips, and pooled between his thighs.

His mind replayed the memory of you resting your back against the bed's headboard, your fingers tangled through his hair while his face is buried between your thighs.

Caleb rubbed his cock over his gray sweatpants, thinking of the face you make as his tongue drives you on edge.

He took another whiff of the red underwear and stained his own boxers as he become even more aroused.

His hips thrusted up as he stroke himself faster, pretending it was your hand that was touching him.

He pictured your mouth around his cock, cheeks flushed, eyes filled with lust as they flicker back to his, making sure he was feeling good. Your eyes would get teary when he'd lose restraints and put himself deeper in your mouth.

A groan comes out between his lips. He pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, smearing his pre-cum all over his aching cock before running his hand up and down, slowly, just like how you like to start and finish.

He needed you, so bad. But you weren't there.

He was surrounded by your scent.

He was on your bed.

Licking his lips, Caleb turned over and buried his face on one of your pillows.

He grinds his cock on your bedsheet, imagining that you were underneath him, crying out his name with pleasure with your honeyed voice that he'll never get tired of hearing even in the after life.

"N- not enough.... it's not enough..." He was pumping his cock while humping your bed, yet he was only getting harder.

It feels like he was going to burst but couldn't.

Caleb threw off his shirt as the sweat from all his movement and body heat made his clothes uncomfortably stuck to his skin.

Despite his tensed body, his hold on your underwear was gentle, as if it was your actual body.

He sniffed the red panty once again before moving it down to his lips. His tongue ran over the crotch, and his cock throbbed. He could almost taste you, as if you were actually there.

He whispered your name with desperation, right hand grasping the bedsheet, needing to feel you against him.

Letting out a ragged breath, he took another pillow and placed it under his hips. Caleb closed his eyes and a moan escapes his lips at the friction.

He immediately set a brutal pace, rutting against your pillow while his closed eyes sees your figure, taking him in deep and tight. You're scratching his back and mewling against his ear as he pounds into you so hard that the world is shaking.

Sweat causes his body to glisten while your bed quakes from all of his movements.

He didn't - or rather, couldn't, silence his moans as the red fabric was wrapped around his cock. He ran it up and down before spreading it over the pillow and grinding against it.

It wasn't you, but it still felt heavenly.

"Fuck. fuck.... so good..."

He was close.

Faster. Harder.

Caleb increased his speed on humping your bed, feeling his body tightening up.

Ring ring ring.

"W- what?!"

He jumped at the sound of his own phone ringing. Someone was calling him. More importantly, it was the special ringtone for you.

Luckily, it wasn't a video call. He'd usually prefer a video call so he can see your lovely face, no matter the time of the day, but today.... might not be a good idea.

"F-fuck." He was absolutely not in the right state to talk to you clearly.

Decline?

No, he couldn't.

He could never.

"Heya, pip-squeak," he breathes out slowly, carefully, as if his heart isn't racing. "Missed me already?" he asks playfully, as if he wasn't the one that was fucking your panties right now.

"Yeah, I do. I have to hold my bags by myself because Caleb isn't around."

"So nice to hear that you're thinking about me." He grins, while his hips continued to move with caution so you wouldn't detect any of the lewd noises he was making.

"Well, yeah.... I do miss you, Caleb." you replied softly, setting the jokes aside. "I'm so far away from Linkon. It's so different here, and it just feels lonely. I guess I'm just feeling homesick..."

You're feeling homesick and you're thinking of him. It's just like when he goes to Skyhaven. He was always thinking of you. The one that he comes home to.

"Caleb..."

The way you said his name caused his stomach to flutter, and his cock to twitch.

Fuck.

Your voice.

"Caleb."

"Mhmmmm..."

With your panty wrapped around his cock, he thrusted deeply into the pillow as if was you. Over and over and over again.

"Caleb..."

He's so close.

Faster.

Deeper.

"Caleb?"

The bed was shaking and screeching from how hard he was going. He'd forgotten about everything.

"Hnnngg,,,"

"Caleb!"

Not a second after you called out his name, Caleb reached his climax. The panty was shoved in his mouth to muffle out the whimpers that fell from his drooling mouth.

He came hard, all over your pillow and spilled onto the bedsheet, some in his hips and stomach.

"Caleb?"

His eyes opened widely as if he'd just woken up from a trance. "Yes, honey?"

"Are you okay? Did you hear what I said? Are you busy?"

He gulped. "I'm good, pip-squeak. I'm already at your place, just... cleaning up, so that it's all nice and pretty when you get back in two days. You should hurry back or else your plants might die from missing you too much."

"Just my plants? You don't miss me?"

On, you have no idea.

"Hmph. I guess I won't give you any of the souvenirs I bought for you."

You are so cute and so precious.

He wants to kiss you so badly.

"Why don't you come home so you can see out how badly I need you..... next to me..." he adds the last part quickly.

Caleb could practically hear you smile at the other line, causing the ends of his own lips to curl up with joy, eyes brightening as he thinks of your face.

"I'm coming home soon. Wait for me, Caleb."

"I'll wait for as long as you need me."

Once the call ended, Caleb sighs loudly and slumps on the bed, wincing at the wet mess he made.

Now he has even more cleaning up to do.

///////

You paused as you entered your bedroom after enjoying the brunch that Caleb cooked for you upon your arrival at your sweet home.

"You changed my bedsheets?"

"It was starting to get a little dusty. You're welcome."

[suiana]

yandere! ex yakuza that is... surprisingly a really good househusband. he can cook, he can clean, and most importantly he absolutely freaking loves you.

yeah, he might have a whole back of tattoos and a few scars- oh! and the history of beating up people (he swears he's changed) and going to jail is there too...

but he's your househusband now!

that's right. you're the one making money while he stays home cleaning, making cute little dishes, going shopping for house essentials... what? he's comfortable with this dynamic! if you want to be independent go ahead! if you're happy he's happy!

it's actually such a change from his previous lifestyle, one where he not only led a whole gang of yakuza members into war and was like, the legendary top dog who would dominate others bla bla bla backstory stuff.

but you know, that life just isn't for him anymore. he's thrown that yakuza lifestyle away. it's just not part of who he is anymore. not after meeting you at least. you really changed him and he's grateful for that❤️

unfortunately you can take the yakuza out of the environment but the yakuza will always stay inside of him or whatever the saying is i don't fucking remember.

so your dreams of having a cute househusband are crushed because this man CANNOT for the life of him look #cute. how can you expect him to look cute?? not with that wardrobe full of suits he isn't. also he wears sunglasses indoors??? and what's with the weird stick he carries around??

anyway, did you hear? there's a sale going on! he knows how stressed you've been with work so he'll take it upon himself to cook you a delicious meal (that's definitely not laced with sleeping pills) so that you can have a peaceful night for once! that's right, you're also getting a massage and he'll even play with your hair until you fall asleep in his arms! now doesn't that sound enticing?

and when you eventually wake up late for work he'll tell you that your boss gave you a paid week off. yay! more time to spend with him! threaten? what no. he didn't threaten your boss, what nonsense are you spouting!

...

well he certainly doesn't look cute but he definitely acts cute. like when how he gets all excited over a sale or a discount happening. he acts like an old auntie sometimes, it's actually so funny.

but let's not forget that this man is still an ex yakuza. he definitely retains his old habits, like i was saying just now. and it obviously has to be ten times worse when you're out with him or something and you get hit on-

"honey no! you can't hit random people with your stick!"

"he was staring at your ass 🤬"

...so that's what the stick was for...

erm... well, now you don't know whether to be angry or to swoon over him. ah whatever! let's just go home!

because once you're home, this man will stop at nothing to make you forget all about his weirdly... violent behaviors towards others.

[velarisdusk]

The Hand That Holds

Azriel x Reader

word count: 5k content: [ explicit sexual content, explicit language, insinuated past domestic abuse, reader has a pos ex, physical fight, blood ] summary: You and Azriel visit a bakery in Velaris, but tension rises when your ex-boyfriend tries to provoke him. author's note: WOOOOOO FINALLY got around to this!!! i got this request a while back and im so sad it took me this long because i LOVED this one and i think yall will too :D as always, thank you lyla for the beta MWAH <333 ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The chill of the winter morning nipped at your cheeks as you leaned into Azriel’s side, your hands tucked deep into your pockets for warmth. Velaris was still waking up, the streets quiet save for the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots and the occasional hum of conversation from the city’s early risers. 

Azriel walked beside you, his wings tucked in tight against his back, his scarf pulled up over his nose to block the cold. He looked uncharacteristically cozy, wrapped in layers of dark wool and leather—a far cry from his usual battle leathers. You smirked at the sight, biting back the urge to tease him. 

“Stop staring,” he muttered, though his hazel eyes were bright with amusement. 

“I’m not,” you said, feigning innocence. “I’m just admiring how approachable you look. Someone might mistake you for friendly.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, his gloved hand brushing yours as he reached for the door of a new bakery. The scent of sugar and cinnamon spilled out as he held it open for you, and you stepped inside with a shiver of relief. 

The line wasn’t long, but the buzz of excitement was palpable—Velaris had been abuzz about this place for weeks, and you were curious to see if it lived up to the hype. Azriel stepped in behind you, the singular shadow that didn’t shy from the sun curling lazily around his shoulders as he scanned the small shop with practiced ease.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” you teased, nudging him gently.

“Old habits,” he said with a shrug. But his gaze softened as he looked down at you, his voice dipping low enough for only you to hear. “Regardless, it’s always good to–”

“Check your exits—I know,” you rolled your eyes playfully. But the soft, warm smile on his face made warmth blossom in your chest. Before you could tease him about how he always looked like he was plotting your rescue, the door chimed again behind you. 

The voice that followed froze you in place.

“Well, well. Isn’t this a surprise?”

It was like ice had slid down your spine. You turned slowly, already knowing who you’d find, and there he was: your ex, Adrian.

He looked almost exactly as you remembered him—tall, lean, with the same self-assured smirk that used to make your stomach twist. Now it only made your skin crawl. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. 

Adrian’s smirk didn’t falter as he spread his arms in mock surprise. “Same as you, I imagine. Grabbing breakfast on this fine, frigid morning. You’ve got good taste though—this bakery’s supposed to be the best in town.” His eyes, dark with amusement, stayed locked on you, deliberately ignoring the male at your side. 

Azriel shifted, a subtle movement that you felt more than saw, and the warmth of his arm across your back steadied you. You cleared your throat, gesturing between the two males. “Adrian, this is Azriel, my boyfriend.”

At that, Adrian finally acknowledged Azriel, his gaze sweeping over him with exaggerated disinterest. “Ah, the High Lord’s lapdog,” he drawled, a cruel glint in his eye as he let the words hang in the air. “I should’ve guessed.”

Azriel didn’t so much as blink, his expression unreadable, though the subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed his irritation. The shadow that had once draped itself lazily across his shoulders now twisted and writhed, mirroring the tension he refused to show. 

You stiffened, the familiar twinge of frustration rising in your chest. You shot Adrian a sharp look. “Watch your mouth. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adrian sneered. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve always craved proximity to power, but I never thought you’d stoop so low for the High Lord’s lackey.” He looked at Azriel now. “You know, she used to–”

Before he could finish, a soft but firm throat-clearing interrupted the tension. You met the gaze of a female fae with skin the color of a summer sky, delicate silver patterns swirling faintly across her arms. Her green eyes flickered with mild annoyance, looking pointedly behind you. You blinked, realizing with a start that the line had moved up. 

You turned, giving a tight, awkward smile to her. The momentary distraction was enough to snap the edge off the conversation, but you could still feel Azriel’s muscles taut beneath his shirt, his posture subtly bristling with tension. You cleared your throat and turned back to face Adrian, forcing a calmness to your voice. “Adrian, I’m not interested in rehashing old memories. It’s over. I’ve moved on.”

He let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your attempt to diffuse the situation. “Oh, I know. But it’s hard not to wonder if…” His eyes flickered over to Azriel again, a smirk tugging at his lips. “She always liked a good challenge. Always liked playing the game.”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze cool and unflinching as he stared back at Adrian. There was no hint of anger in his eyes—only something darker, something more dangerous. The air around him felt charged, and you could feel the subtle pressure of his presence wrapping around you. He’d let Adrian speak, but it was clear he was no longer willing to let this slide. 

Your ex, clearly oblivious to the things Azriel could do to him, leaned in closer, his voice dropping low, as if speaking just to you. “You know, I always had a thing for your little… habits.”

“Adrian–” you started, but Azriel’s fingers tightened around your waist, as if to say, No, let him dig his own grave. 

He only glanced at you with that same arrogant smirk, spoke in that same smug tone. “You always did like the idea of playing the perfect little girlfriend, didn’t you? Pretending to be someone you’re not just to fit in. I’m certain the High Lord and his court see straight through you. How this one doesn’t is beyond me. Maybe he’s too caught up in your little act to notice.”

You stiffened, anger flashing through you. You met Adrian’s eyes head-on, your voice steady but cold. “You don’t know anything about me, Adrian. You never did. All you cared about was making me bend to your will, acting like you could tell me who I was.”

Adrian snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “Right. That’s exactly why you couldn’t stand up for yourself. Too afraid to rock the boat, too afraid to leave without your damned brother keeping me from you while you emptied out our apartment. That’s the real reason you’re with him now, isn’t it? Because he gives you the approval you crave.”

You felt your breath catch, a sharp sting of frustration and anger at the way Adrian twisted things. But Azriel didn’t intervene, giving you the room to defend yourself the way he knew you could. But his body still radiated that quiet, dangerous presence that was undeniably his. 

“I didn’t stay with you because I needed approval. I stayed because I was hoping you’d change, but it never happened. I was hoping you’d actually care about me, but you never did.” The words tumbled out, raw and real, but with a finality to them. Azriel’s gaze didn’t leave Adrian. 

But Adrian wasn’t done yet. “Sure, keep pretending like you didn’t thrive on being the good little girlfriend. You think you’re some born-again female because you fuck people in high places now?”

Before you could respond, Adrian’s voice rose, becoming louder, enough for the few other patrons in the bakery to glance over curiously. You could feel the heat of their stares on you, the attention making your skin crawl. 

Azriel’s posture shifted then, like a predator slowly unfurling from his calm stance. You were at the front of the line now, the barista eyeing the three of you warily. 

Azriel gave a soft chuckle, breaking the tension just a little. His voice, when it came, was unexpectedly warm—almost too friendly. “Go ahead and order, sweetheart. I’ll just get to know Adrian here a bit more.” His smile was polite, but there was something in his tone, something laced with a quiet, lethal amusement when he faced Adrian and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been looking forward to it with how much I’ve heard about you.”

You blinked at him, unsure if he was serious, but with a last glance at the two males—Azriel now steering Adrian toward the door, his grim firm but controlled—you turned away and approached the barista to place your order. You could feel Adrian’s eyes still on your back, but you chose to ignore them, focusing instead on the extensive menu.

You’d placed your order, a cappuccino and cinnamon roll for yourself, an espresso and a chocolate croissant for Az. When you turned around, you found Azriel still standing by Adrian, the two of them in an almost eerily calm conversation. But Azriel… Azriel smiled at you as soon as your eyes met, his expression softening in a way that made your heart skip a beat. He waved you away, the motion casual as he gestured toward the tables. “Find us a seat,” you heard his muffled voice through the glass, all smooth charm. “I’ll be right there.”

Something in the way Azriel held himself, with perfect composure, put you on edge as you walked toward the tables, though you could still see them through the large glass windows.

From where you sat, you could only see Adrian’s face, flushed with color, but Azriel’s back was all you could make out. The conversation escalated, Adrian’s voice sharp and biting, though the exact words eluded you. It became painfully clear that whatever advantage Adrian thought he held, Azriel had turned it on its head. 

Your order was brought over by the short green faerie you’d spoken to earlier. With a smile and thanks, you lifted the paper cup to your lips, taking a slow sip. You tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t a situation about to boil over. But just as you brought your cup to your lips again, you saw Azriel—without warning—turn his body and slam his fist into Adrian’s face with a speed and force that made the entire room fall silent.

Your breath hitched as Adrian staggered backward, his nose already swelling, his eyes wide with shock. It wasn’t just the punch itself; it was the sheer precision of it. Azriel’s strike was so clean, so practiced. You knew it was far from the first time he’d thrown a punch, but seeing it land with such brutal efficiency… it was something else entirely. 

You shot up in your seat, stomach twisting at the sight, but a part of you was oddly satisfied with the outcome. Adrian’s shock was clear, but it quickly turned to rage as he wiped at the blood now dripping from his nose. For a moment, it seemed like time froze—Azriel’s stillness, Adrian’s growing anger, the tense air between them. You were frozen too, watching with wide eyes, heart thundering in your chest. 

But then, Adrian lunged forward, swinging his fist toward Azriel. You flinched as you saw it coming, but Azriel didn’t even flinch. He easily dodged the punch, his movements fluid and effortless. His posture was relaxed, almost bored, as he watched Adrian stumble forward, completely outmatched. 

Adrian’s face twisted with fury. He spoke with a sneer on his lips, and whatever he’d spat at Azriel made his fist come crashing into his jaw, sending Adrian flying backward. Adrian stumbled, but he was still standing, glaring up at Azriel with burning hatred. 

But Azriel didn’t let him regain his balance. He closed the distance in seconds, landing blow after blow with calculated precision. Each punch seemed to push Adrian further back, his attempts to retaliate nothing more than desperate swings Azriel easily evaded. 

The bakery fell silent, the only sound the sickening thud of Azriel’s punches landing with brutal accuracy. Adrian’s face was already swollen, blood staining his lips, but the fire in his eyes didn’t die. He staggered, trying to find his footing, but Azriel was relentless.

You couldn’t watch it anymore. Your heart raced, stomach churning with a sick mix of fear and adrenaline. You shot up from your seat, your hands trembling as you rushed toward the door.

“Azriel, stop!” you yelled, your voice shaky but desperate. You hadn’t even made it a step outside before Azriel’s voice cracked like a whip. 

“Enough!” The command was sharp. “You’d do well to watch your fucking mouth.”

You stepped into the cold air, the door swinging shut behind you. Adrian’s back was to you as Azriel loomed over him, towering like a predator who’d cornered its prey. The sight of Adrian’s battered face only made you more frantic. 

You couldn’t stand this. “Azriel, please, this is enough. Let him go,” you said, your voice trembling but insistent. 

Adrian, seething, spat a mouthful of blood onto the white snow with a sickening splat, his eyes not leaving yours. He grinned through the bloodstained mess, his voice dripping with venom. “The way you’re shaking, darling, sounds an awful lot like the noises you’d make when I fucked you.”

The words hit like a slap and anger burned in your chest. Without a second thought, you kicked him hard in the knee, sending Adrian crashing to the ground with a grunt of pain. Azriel took a slow step back, his expression unreadable. He held out his arm, a quiet invitation for you to take it. 

Without hesitation, you slipped your arm through his, feeling the calming presence of his warmth and strength, his shadow dancing around you too now. Together, you walked back into the bakery, your eyes lingering on Adrian as he writhed on the ground, nursing his knee. 

The bakery was quiet when you walked back in, but you ignored the looks from the other patrons, your focus entirely on Azriel. You reached the table where your coffees were still steaming and your pastries still warm. You grabbed your cup, hands trembling slightly, though the anger in your chest was beginning to settle. Azriel gathered the rest and you left the bakery arm in arm. The door swung closed behind you with a soft chime. As you stepped back out into the cold, you noticed that Adrian was gone. 

What remained were the footprints he’d left behind, the snow disturbed in jagged lines, and the dark spots of blood every few feet. A chill that had nothing to do with the weather crept over you as you and Azriel walked the other way. 

When you and Azriel landed at the House of Wind, his hand moved to the small of your back, his touch a silent reassurance. 

He opened the door, and as you stepped inside, the warmth of the House hit you like a wave, the sharpness of the cold outside vanishing. Azriel shut the door behind you, the world outside fading away as he turned to face you. The flickering light of the fire illuminated his sharp features, casting shadows that seemed to dance with his every movement. 

“Do you want to talk about what just happened?” you asked, your voice low, almost hesitant. 

Azriel didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered to the firelight, his shadows stirring lazily around him as if they reflected the storm brewing in his mind. The weight of his silence settled between you, heavy and charged. 

Your chest tightened. “What did he say to you?” you pressed softly, searching his face. “To make you—”

Before you could finish, Azriel closed the distance in one swift step, backing you against the door as his shadows swept your drinks and pastries into some unseen pocket of shadowed space. The breath hitched in your throat as his hands planted firmly on either side of your head, caging you in. His wings flared slightly though his movements remained measured. 

He was so close now, his dark gaze burning into yours, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, rough whisper, with a smirk that never ceased to send a shiver down your spine. “Do you really want to know?”

Your mouth went dry, but you nodded, unable to find your voice. 

Azriel’s eyes swept over you, lingering on your lips for a beat too long. He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “He told me things about you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with restrained intensity. “Intimate things. Like the sounds you make… when your neck is bitten.”

His teeth scraped lightly against the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips. His shadows curled around your ankles, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressed against yours. 

Azriel’s lips hovered there for a moment, his breath fanning over your skin as you shivered. His teeth scraped again, a little harder this time, and when your breath caught, his lips curved faintly. He trailed his mouth down the column of your throat, his tongue flicking over your pulse point as if savoring every reaction he coaxed from you. 

“He said you’d melt,” Azriel murmured, his voice low and rough, the edge of it sending a shiver through you. “That you’d fall apart the moment someone got close enough to really touch you. Do you know how much I hated hearing that from him?”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, half for balance and half to anchor yourself against the tension coiling through your body. “Azriel–” you started, but his name came out more like a sigh than a protest. 

“He thought he knew you.” His hand skimmed up your arm, his touch almost reverent. He paused when he reached your jaw, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth, tugging lightly at your bottom lip. “Thought he’d learned all your secrets. But he doesn’t know you like I do, does he?”

His shadows curled tighter, slithering up your calves and around your waist, as if to hold you in place. Azriel tilted your head back with a soft but firm touch, his eyes dark as they locked with yours. 

“Does he know,” he continued, his thumb grazing along your throat now, “how your breath hitches when I do this?” His lips followed the path of his thumb, placing a lingering kiss at the hollow of your throat. 

Your body betrayed you, your chest rising sharply at the sensation. Azriel’s smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering in his gaze as his hands moved to grip your hips. He pulled you flush against him, letting you feel the solid strength of him.

“Does he know the way you tremble,” Azriel murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “when someone takes their time with you? When every touch is intentional?”

His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs tracing teasing patterns along your ribs. You couldn’t stop the small noise that escaped you, half frustration, half need, and Azriel rewarded it with another scrape of his teeth against your skin, this time just beneath your ear.

“He said you liked to be bitten,” Azriel whispered, his tone dark and thick with purpose. “But I don’t think he ever did it quite right, did he? Not the way I do.”

His lips found the curve of your shoulder, his teeth pressing into the tender flesh there—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your knees go weak. A soft sound escaped you, and Azriel growled in approval, pulling back just enough to look at you. 

Your lips were parted, your breath uneven, and his eyes darkened further as they drank in the sight of you. “No,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “He didn’t know you at all.”

Azriel leaned in again, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was utterly consuming. His hands roamed your body now, each touch a promise, each movement pushing you further into the haze of him. 

The kiss broke only when you were gasping for air, your head spinning as his fingers skimmed the curve of your waist. Your fingers curled into his shoulders, your nails digging into the leather of his jacket as he moved lower, his mouth tracing a path down your throat. 

“He told me,” Azriel murmured against your skin, “how your body would arch when someone dragged their hands down your sides. How you’d shiver—yeah, just like that, sweetheart.” His hands followed the line of your body, his thumbs pressing into the curves of your hips. Your breath caught yet again, and his shadows tightened their grip, mirroring his hold on you as they coiled tighter around your legs and waist. 

“Do you know what else he said?” Azriel’s voice was dark now, the edge of it razor-sharp. His mouth hovered just above your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. “He thought he knew every part of you.” He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and his free hand moved to cup your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. “But he never learned how to make you come undone the way I do.”

His thumb brushed over your lips, his darkened gaze fixed on your face as his other hand trailed lower, unzipping your winter coat as it went. Your heart pounded as his cold fingers toyed with the hem of your sweater. “He said,” Azriel leaned in, his nose grazing yours, “the sounds you made when someone’s fingers slid inside of you were unforgettable.”

His fingers slipped beneath your sweater now, brushing the bare skin of your stomach. “As if I don’t already know,” he laughed dryly. “As if I haven’t touched every inch of you, memorized every gasp, every shiver.” Azriel’s other hand splayed over your hip, his touch firm, grounding. 

“I know,” he murmured, “how your body reacts when I press here–” His hand slid lower, his fingers grazing the sensitive curve of your waist before trailing just above the waistband of your pants. “And how your back arches when I fuck my tongue into you just right.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears as he lifted his head. His gaze pinned you in place—already held by the shadows, but his eyes alone could have kept you rooted where you stood. The smirk on his lips was devastating, pulling something deep inside of you.

“And I know,” he said, his voice a seductive growl, “that no one else could ever make you feel like this—not with just words, not without even touching you.” 

His mouth crashed against yours, swallowing the soft sound that escaped your lips, and any thought of Adrian—or the rest of the world—vanished entirely. His hands were everywhere, a firm grip on your waist, pulling you closer, his body radiating through every layer of clothing. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely-contained hunger in his touch, and it only made the need in you grow more desperate. His lips moved with slow, consuming pressure, as if savoring the familiarity of you, each kiss deeper than the last. Your breath came in shaky bursts, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him even closer, if that was even possible.

You felt his battle-worn hands slide from your waist, roughened from years of wielding blades, reaching down to grip the hem of your pants. Undoing the buttons, he felt the fabric of the leggings you wore underneath stretch at his touch, the tightness only making him more insistent as he tugged. The chill of Velaris’s winter bit at the air, and though he’d been the one to insist you bundle up, he now cursed every layer between his skin and yours.

Azriel’s breath was a low rasp against your skin as he hovered just inches from you, his fingertips brushing against the curve of your body. The cold stone of the wall pressed into your back, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him.

“Adrian told me…” His voice was thick, barely a whisper as it vibrated through your chest. His fingers traced over you through the thin fabric of your underwear, a silent command that had you arching instinctively toward him. “He told me you make the most beautiful, soft little sound—that you can’t hide the way your whole body shudders—when I press just right.”

He didn’t wait for a response, the air between you thick with something unspoken as his fingers slid beneath the fabric. The quiet scrape of his knuckles against your skin was enough to make your heart pound harder, but it was his words, his quiet murmurings that drove the ache deeper. 

“But I know better. You’re not quiet,” he breathed, his voice dark with something that bordered on satisfaction. “I know how you react—how you cry out and tremble when my fingers move inside of you.”

His thumb circled lightly, teasing, before pressing firmer, a rhythm that had you gasping for more, your hands gripping him for stability. It was almost cruel, how he seemed to know exactly how far to push before he pulled back, watching you with that same unreadable expression, his eyes dark with desire. 

“You let me feel it all,” he said, the words punctuating each movement. Without warning, his fingers plunged deep. A sharp cry tore from your throat, the sound raw and unguarded, echoing in the small space between you. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a low, almost reverent growl. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Let me feel how much you crave it.”

The pace of his fingers quickened, each movement calculated to drive you wild, to unravel you with each press and curl. His thumb brushed against the sensitive spot at the heel of your body, and your entire form trembled under his touch. Your grip on him tightened, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, but it was his control over the rhythm, his ability to play you like an instrument, that had your body surging toward him helplessly. 

Azriel drove his fingers deeper, harder, a steady rhythm that made your body tense, your mind slipping, thoughts scattering. Your breath caught, your chest heaving as you gasped, unable to control the sound that escaped you. “Please, Azriel…” The words barely left your mouth before another cry followed, the pressure building too fast, too much. 

He didn’t slow, didn’t stop. Instead, he bent closer, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured darkly, “I know exactly how you fall apart. How to touch you, how to fuck you, how to make you cry and beg.” His thumb circled before he pressed in harder, a movement that had your knees weak and your head spinning.

“You feel that? Feel how perfect you are for me? How badly you want this, how badly you need me inside you?”

You whimpered, barely able to form words. “I—I need you… please…”

“I know, baby, I know.” A breathless laugh escaped him, his fingers moving with relentless speed, their slick rhythm filling the air. “I know you can’t control how needy you get for me.”

You cried out again, in frustration this time, your body pulling against him. “Azriel… please,” you whined. “Say whatever the hell gets you off, just please don’t stop, don’t leave me like this.”

His lips ghosted over your skin. “I won’t stop,” he breathed. “But you need to tell me what you want.”

Your body was already shaking, your voice trembling with need. “Please, I—I can’t take it anymore. Please, Azriel… make me come.”

He groaned low in his throat, his pace quickening impossibly, matching the frantic rhythm of your breaths. “That’s it,” he muttered. “Beg for me, tell me how much you need it.” His fingers curled again, making you gasp, your back arching as he pushed you toward the edge. 

The tension coiled impossibly tight, and every stroke of his fingers sent a wave of heat coursing through you. His name tumbled from your lips, broken and breathless, as your fingers fisted in his hair. “Az—please, I’m so close—please, please, please–”

“I know,” he murmured, voice like velvet over steel, his forehead pressed against yours as he watched every expression flicker across your face. “I can feel it. The way you start to clench around my fingers–”

His words sent you spiraling, a raw sound breaking from you as the pressure shattered, heat rippling through every nerve so fiercely you thought your legs might give beneath you. He caught you, his free hand gripping your waist, holding you steady as he continued to work you through it, his fingers relentless, dragging out every last tremor until you sagged against him, boneless and breathless. 

“That’s my girl,” he said softly, his tone laced with pride, his lips brushing over your temple. His scent—smoked amber and shadowed pine, edged faintly with steel—enveloped you, his fingers retreating with an excruciating slowness that had your breath hitching one last time. 

When the haze cleared, your head fell to his shoulder, your breaths mingling in the charged silence between you. His hands steadied at your hips, his warmth pressing into you as though he had no intention of letting go. Slowly, his touch shifted, gathering you close, and you knew—without a word exchanged—that the couch would offer no reprieve from the unspoken promises lingering in his heated gaze. 

[slytherinshua]

BROUGHT THE HEAT BACK

genre. vampire au/bthb au. established relationship. warnings. sunghoon is very jealous. profanity. kissing. slightly suggestive maybe. reader wears a dress. pairing. vampire!sunghoon x fem!witch!reader. wc. 1k. request. no. a/n. bthb is probably one of their best mvs ever it was so well made like omg?? giving tim burton film vibes esp at the end and every scene was just so stunning, obv it gave me fic ideas ksdjks. written esp for @blue-jisungs @hursheys and @loserlvrss

“Jesus, fuck, Sunghoon—” You shrieked when you entered your apartment, not expecting your boyfriend to be hanging from the ceiling, eyes staring at the door. He floated down to the floor, not moving a muscle. You were used to his… supernatural way of moving around by now, but you hadn’t expected him to jumpscare you like that.

“What did I say about hanging from the ceiling?” You muttered, brushing your coat off. Sunghoon slid over to you, hovering over your shoulder, eyes piercing your cheek. You figured something must be up. He didn’t act so vampirish unless he was pissed, reverting back to his old habits of hundreds of years.

“What did I say about going out without telling me?” He grunted in response, a very evident scowl etched on his face.

Ah, that’s why he was pissed.

“I did tell you, dumbass.” You slid your heels off next, padding your bare feet over to your shared bedroom. Sunghoon followed you, still too lazy to use his legs. 

“You didn’t say you’d be going in that outfit.” He countered, scarlet eyes shining brighter with his annoyance. 

“Seriously? I thought I looked pretty.” You huffed, grabbing one of his hoodies draped over a chair and glancing at the full-length mirror. You quite liked the dress you had picked out. Sure, it was a little revealing for your taste, but you wanted to try something different. All your friends were going to be dressing up nice. The dresses in your wardrobe were all gloomy colours and long-sleeves; very witchy thanks to your profession. 

The dark vermillion stained dress was sleeveless, adorned with jewels and a slit on the leg. You had bought it the week previously with your friend after trying it on and falling in love with how it looked. The colour reminded you of Sunghoon’s eyes. 

“You do look pretty. That’s the problem.” He muttered, biting his lip with his fang.

“There’s no need to be jealous, babe. I wasn’t looking at anyone else.” You assured him, pulling his black hoodie over your head. 

“People were looking at you, though. And for the record, I’m not jealous.” He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed as he too looked at the mirror, seeing the obvious absence of his reflection next to you. He hated that. Why did he always feel invisible?   

“Whatever you say.” A hint of a smile played on your lips. No matter how annoyed and angry Sunghoon got, you were never intimidated by him. He couldn’t hide the fact that he was secretly a softie. You pulled on his arm, and as he held no resistance, his body fell perfectly into your arms. 

“Geez, you’re burning up. Sure you’re not a little jealous?” You giggled, feeling his forehead and cheeks. Although they didn’t hold any colour, they were warm to the touch. You knew enough about vampires to know feelings of jealousy made their stolen blood boil. Literally. You had focused on vampires in your witch studies. 

“The room is just hot.” He made up an excuse, dipping away from your reach before you could see that he was lying. You shook your head, amused at him. He pursed his lips, taking a seat on the bed and avoiding eye contact with you out of spite.

You slid the dress off under his hoodie and grabbed a pair of pyjama pants to put on instead. His clothes were always the perfect amount of oversized on you, plus the added bonus of smelling just like him. It was like you were wrapped in a warm hug at all times.

“Burn it.” Sunghoon’s voice broke the silence in the room. You turned back around to him, quickly figuring out that he meant the dress.

“Good grief, you’re ridiculous—” You started to protest, but seeing his serious look painted in his eyes, you figured it was probably best to not test him when he was sensitive. You picked up the dress, using a simple spell to burst it into flames.

“Happy?” 

He nodded, satisfied. He tilted his head, and you felt a tug on your sleeve; his sorcery yanking you gently, a silent plead to come sit with him. You complied, knowing already what would get his mind off the burning jealousy he was feeling.

“Need your kisses now, hm?” You ruffled his hair lovingly, enjoying the grumpy expression on his face. Sliding his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose, you drew closer to his face. He couldn’t wait a second longer to taste your lips, his scorching possessiveness creeping in every cold vein of his body, heat shuddering through his skin.

He was annoyed at you and how you occupied his every thought. He just couldn’t get you out of his head, whether you were by his side or away from him. His entire life had turned upside down the second you walked in and trampled all over his heart. Now, he was stuck, inexplicable feelings swallowing him whole. He wasn’t used to it. No one else had such a big effect on him. He loved you too much.

He poured out his frustration into the kiss, fangs nipping at your lips, one hand holding the side of your neck to pull you closer. It wasn’t enough. Even as his tongue melted with yours, it wasn’t enough. He still felt the jealousy creeping up his spine, the thought of other guys seeing you look so pretty distressing his mind. 

You pulled apart for air, the eagerness of Sunghoon’s kiss depleting your breath quickly. He peppered kisses to your face and neck as you rested, tracing over every inch of skin he could reach as if to dispel any doubt that you were his. 

“Still burning up.” You mumbled to yourself, feeling the skin of his neck and shoulder junction. You smiled, wondering how many kisses it would take to cool him off again. Something was telling you that you would be there for a while.

↳ enhypen taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,, @delcakoo,,

@kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @nicholasluvbot,, @dimplewonie,,

@50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,,

@forever-atiny

[writingbluerose]

one more draconic feature | malleus draconia x reader

summary : you've invited Malleus to hang around by your dorm to enjoy each other's companies. Who would've known it ended with you exploring something else instead

warnings : SUGGESTIVE!! like some kissing shit but it's on another level lol ( as well as I can write it lol, I... can't write these stuff too well, but practice makes perfect ^^ )

a / n : this one is based on another comic I saw and also it could be read as another version to this drabble I made some time ago! Enjoy :3

The sun was already up and proud in the sky, giving the birds a chance to sing merrily from their place on top of the branches outside. It was around the end of February, the events at VDC were still a bit fresh but you had resumed your everyday life as always.

Today though, it was a particularly nice and peaceful day. In the now quiet Ramshackle dorm lounge ( after Grim has decided to go into your room to take a "very well deserved nap" ) a figure was sitting relaxed, in their element, on one of the old couches. And that figure was none other than Malleus Draconia. He had been invited by you to spend time together as the VDC had taken most of your time, becoming busier and busier by the day. And come on now, who was he to deny such a request from his beloved? Besides, he's told you many times, the books you've found sitting all dusty and forgotten in this dorm were some of the best pieces of literature he's ever read in his stay at this school, so for him it was a double win.

After some time of waiting, Malleus' ears picked up the faintest sound of footsteps coming in his direction, and then- “Hey there Hornton!” At the sound of your voice, Malleus chuckled and closed his book with a thud “Even now still calling me by the same endearing nickname. You're one of a kind my dear” You gave him a huffed laugh before coming to rest next to him “I didn't interrupt your reading again did I?” Your eyes met his in a quick exchange before he slowly shook his head in reassurance, “No of course not, don't worry about it. I must admit that even I sometimes am not aware of my surroundings, especially when I'm doing something I really am engrossed in” His hand rested on your head before giving you a pat and returning to his book once again. Both of you sat there in silence and after what seemed like an eternity Malleus had noticed you started fidgeting with your fingers, your leg slowly bouncing. A habit of yours he had picked up in the early days you've met, indicating that you were either nervous about something or itching to do something you were not supposed to. The fae's eyes followed your movements a little more before asking : “What is it you're itching to do hm? Are you looking to touch my horns again?” If you could look past the book, you'd be able to see his big smirk hidden behind the hard cover. “No! No! It's not that it's just...mmh — your eyes trailed to the floor, your leg not stopping its bouncing — I was just thinking about your horns. You told me long ago that your horns are a big part of who you are, it kinda represents your family right?” “Indeed so. Our horns are also a very sensible spot, it is the source of our magic, a vital point. Should they break... — his eyes narrowed — well you wouldn't want to know what would happen would you now?” You shook your head at his words before staring at him for a little while “You have other features right? As in, other features akin to a dragon's... I mean you have the eyes, the tail, I wonder if your tongue also looks like one...— ah but nevermind me!” Your mumbling abruptly came to an end after taking a look at Malleus and his shocked expression. What went through that little adorable head of yours hm? Malleus thought. “Well anyway! You know that does remind me of that one story I listened to one of Professor's Trein class...” Quickly loosing yourself in your explanations you failed to notice how Malleus was still looking at you with now a more mischievous expression, his smirk growing into a grin behind his book.

Closing it, not too hard so you wouldn't get startled, his arm slowly started to move towards your chin to grab it, which you failed to notice, still speaking, face red as beet. “Are you truly that curious?” His fingers grabbed your chin ( a bit too hard you would've liked to say ) and forcefully turned your face to his for you to be met with a sight that many people would consider the moment they're about to go to the after life ;

You heard a low growl and an almost mute hissss... as Malleus' mouth opened, revealing his white, long and sharp fangs as his tongue slithered out, long, forked at the tip and flickering through the air, his drool sticking to it and coming down his chin, eyes gleaming down at you like a snake who just caught a delicious prey. You gulped down before leaving a tiny shriek, your form trembling in his hold.

He closed his mouth, tongue licking his lips as his hand came to clean off the drool on his chin. The prince smiled down at you, “Well, did I satisfy your curiosity now, my love?” The tone in his voice left you knowing that he wanted to do much more, but after all, a predator usually waits for its prey's most vulnerable moment. “I-I uhh...uhmmm” He let out a loud snort “So? Is this enough to intimidate you? I'd be hard to believe after all these overblots you've faced” That damn teasing bastard. You signed, stopped, and inhaled again before saying : “Y-you looked... pretty... neat” Voice cracking, not being able to get his expression out of your mind, refusing to look your boyfriend in the eye.

One, two minutes passed before Malleus let out a thunderous laugh, amused and enjoying your reactions to the fullest. “My and here I thought I had frightened you! I must admit, teasing you has become one of my favorite activities to do!” You let out a loud 'HAH!' as if offended, though you both knew there was no venom behind the gesture“You didn't think I was done, do you?” “Wh-h-hey! Malleus!!” The fae prince's hands came to grab your waist pulling you into his lap, his eyes and movements giving an open space to a, new, primal feeling. His fingers found your shirt, unbuttoning it so he'd be given a clear view to your shoulders ; A moment passed before you felt his tongue slowly licking from the shoulder and stopping right under your chin. And he bit down, hard, making you let out a high pitched moan in pleasure. His mouth didn't leave your shoulder yet, and when he felt the first drop of blood coming out, his pupils dilated as he started sucking and licking until he left a deep mark “I haven't even done half the things I wish to do” So he said

His lips quickly found yours, kissing rough and passionate, forked tongue licking your lips asking for entrance. You hadn't dared to tease him or refuse his request, you know better than to do so at this moment. So when you parted his lips welcoming him in your warmth, Malleus let out a groan making you moan into the kiss in return. Grabbing him by his shoulders to steady yourself, his forked tongue hadn't missed a spot. It was so long and fuck did it feel so good it hasn't even been a full minute until you felt drool dropping down at the corners of your mouth.

Without realizing it, your hands went upper and upper until they found the base of his horns. You grabbed at it so hard that Malleus down right growled. So deep it could've come down as a threat for others, but when his hands grabbed your wrists keeping them in place for a split second, before going down to grip your waist, you understood his message : 'Don't you dare take your hands off' so you didn't. In fact, you gripped harder, fingers rising once again on the form of his horns, that's when Malleus parted his lips and moaned, husky and low.

His fingers went lower and lower on your tights, he didn't continue to kiss you right away, instead he came closer, panting in each other's mouths, needy and desperate for more. “Mal... we can't, we can't do this...” Your hands came down to hold his face and the fae closed his eyes at the contact, “Beloved, you cannot lie and tell me you don't wish for this as much as I do. Or do you truly not?” Avoiding his gaze, you inhaled a sharp breath. Of course you wanted to. “I- I do Malleus, fuck, of course I do” “Then please allow me” He lifted you up and positioned you on your back on the couch undoing the buttons of your shirt just a bit more, so he could get a peak at your chest.

He kissed you on your lips, then traveled down to your neck, kissing slowly and softly down to your chest, fingers gripping and pressing at your skin leaving more tiny love bites in his wake, ears picking up the faintest of whimpers and tiny moans. Smirking, he continued to press kisses down to your chest, moaning at the same time with you when your hands came to rest on his horns again. His eyes found yours, pupils dilated and face flushed, and for the first time you had spotted a new glint to them. One that only presented a raw feeling of lust and need. When he spoke, his voice sounded more excited then he intended to let on : “I hope you're ready my love, for I won't hold back in the slightest”

Oh goodness, you were in it for now that's for sure

© writingbluerose 2025

[cyberpunkgyu]

Moonstruck — P.SH ✧.*

summary: when your boyfriend won’t stop staring at you or sunghoon falling deeply in love

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: not proofread!!

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

sunghoon loves you. there’s no doubt in that.

you are his first love, and hopes to be his last.

sometimes he gets so immersed in his thoughts about the future, and you’re a huge part of it. he wants to marry you one day, loving the thought of being with you for the rest of his life. growing old with you, through thick and thin, and till death do us part.

he would have never thought in his life that he’d be this in love with someone. of course, he knew the concept of it, he did grow up in a loving household, his parents always giving their all to their kids, and to each other. he always felt warm and safe.

and that’s what he felt when he’s with you.

not only that, but your love for him felt overflowing. to him, you were the embodiment of beauty and love.

“i missed you.” arms wrapped around his waist as soon as he entered your studio apartment, giving the boy a soft squeeze as he tried to take his shoes off with his own feet, not wanting to even let you go for just a second.

a cute smile on displayed on his plump lips, his arms hugging you back. he then gently pulled you, your feet dangling as he walked to your bed which wasn’t too far from the door. he plopped you down before pressing his lips against yours, basically caging you around him. “i missed you too, precious. you have no idea.”

you giggled against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his lips. “wait, wait. before i forget.” you pulled away from the kiss, though he stole a quick peck before moving to sit on the edge of your bed, helping you up.

“what is it?”

you slightly jogged to your fridge before taking out a tiramisu cake, your boyfriend’s favorite, which you had made earlier in the morning as you wanted to surprise him with it. surprisingly it turned out well, feeling a bit proud of yourself. baking was never really your thing, but you wanted to gave it a try instead of just buying it at a local bakery, to make it more special.

“ta dah!” you grinned as you placed it on the circle dining table, sunghoon, who had got up looking down at the cake, a surprised expression on his face, lips parted.

“woah. you made all this? i didn’t you could bake.”

“well, i don’t. but i wanted to try it out because i knew it’s your favorite. don’t have high expectations though! i know it’s probably not the best but it turned out okay.”

sunghoon felt his heart skip a beat, gulping at the sudden feeling, his eyes not leaving you. the way you smile while showing him the tiramisu made him feel as if he was floating. how can he not fall in love over and over again if that’s how you treat him? you make him feel so loved.

he loves you so much that he will do everything for you. if there were an alternative universe out there, he wishes that he’ll still be with you. if reincarnation is a real thing, which sunghoon still thinks about from time to time when he’s deep in his thoughts, he hopes that you’ll both find each other, one way or another.

“hoon?” he shook his head to snap himself out, seeing you look at him with such concern, causing his heart to melt.

god, he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you.

“ah, yeah. let’s go try it.” he smiled tenderly before walking to one of your kitchen cabinets, knowing where everything was as your place was basically his second home.

grabbing plates and utensils for you both, he cut up one for you first, a habit that he formed after he began dating you, before placing a slice for himself. sunghoon quickly pulled one of the chairs for you to sit on, being the gentleman he is. it truly warms your heart whenever he does things like this, as it makes you feel so loved.

he sat down next to you, stabbing a piece into his fork before doing a "cheers" with you, trying the dessert. you watched him take a bite before you did, waiting for any reactions. his brows furrowed as he ate, and a low hum soon followed. "woah! this is really good! good job."

"you think so? i'm glad. i made a lot so you better finish it." you jokingly threatened your boyfriend before eating some more of the tiramisu, pleasantly surprised by your own creation. sunghoon's eyes remained on you as he ate, his eyes twinkling, gaze full of adoration.

he doesn’t realize how much he smiles when he’s around you. pretty sure he only smiles when he is around you. sure he’d smile to others as a kind gesture, but even that was a rare sight, though with you it was different. it was genuine.

he let out a low chuckle when he noticed a small cream from the cake on the corner if your lips, making you look up at him in confusion. “cute.” he mumbled and mindlessly wiped the cream off with his thumb, catching you off guard. your eyes looked up at him, cheeks heating up.

even after months (almost a year) of being in a relationship with him, he never fails to make you shy.

sunghoon licks it off his thumb before he leaned closer to you, lips hovering over yours. your heart felt loud in your ears.

“you have no idea how crazy you’re making me feel.” he whispered with a low and hushed tone. soon his lips pressed against yours, your hand dropping the fork down your plate before you placed it on his arm, kissing the boy back.

his lips felt so warm and gentle against yours. the sweet taste from your lips drove him even crazier, gently biting the bottom of your lips.

he finally pulled away, wanting to give you some time to breathe, though his forehead remained pressed against yours, his hand on your cheek. “what’s gotten into you?” you mumbled shyly, lips swollen and pink.

his eyebrow raised at your question, “what do you mean? can i not kiss my girlfriend?”

“not that… of course you can. just… i don’t know.” gosh, seeing you all shy made him feel some type of way.

“i just really love you. i’m so in love with you, precious.”

you didn’t think your cheeks could get even redder than it was, looking down bashfully.

“well, i want you to know that i really love you too hoon.” you smiled warmly, slowly looking up at him,

his fangs now on display as he grinned, “i’m glad. cause i am never letting you go.”

“sounds good to me.”

sunghoon doesn’t waste anymore time and pressed his lips back against yours, heart and mind filled with nothing else but you.

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ so, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel...

type of post: blurbs characters: trey, vil, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, kissing in vil's part, lilia's is a little suggestive, I can't help myself, not proofread author's note: I've wanted to do an isekai thing for a while, and I do love a good plot twist ;3

So, you've been isekai'd into a romance novel.

The only way to get home? You have to play the part of the protagonist until the novel ends.

There's just one problem, though: you're not into the love interest.

Not at all.

What's worse: you're starting to fall for a side character.

➼ His Best Friend

You started dozing off while your friend was helping you write an essay.

It was for one of those old romance novels about rich people in the English countryside, and you couldn't stand it. You knew you were going to fail when you fell asleep in your chair, thinking that you'd just cram the next day, except...

...Instead of your room, you wake up on a picturesque hill, inside the book you'd been studying.

You hear someone shouting, and you stand. There's a boy coming towards you, yelling a name you don't-

Oh, oh no.

That's the protagonist's name. Which means that can only be-

"There you are!" Riddle Rosehearts, the love interest of the novel, storms up to you.

"Your friends have been worried sick, you know! We've been looking everywhere! You've embarrassed me in front of the entire county!"

You blink, trying to remember what your friend had told you about this book:

The shouting boy, Riddle, is the love interest. Your love interest.

But it doesn't start out the way- in the beginning, he and the protagonist cannot stand each other. He's hotheaded, strict, and has no interest in love. Over the course of the book, the protagonist teaches him to let go and enjoy life, and blah blah blah...

...Yeah, you have no interest in doing any of that. "Enemies to lovers" isn't really your cup of tea.

But if it's the only way out... you can pretend.

"I... fell asleep," you say. This only seems to make Riddle more frustrated.

"You will come back at once, and apologize to my house and to my guests. Else it'll be off with your head!"

He turns and begins marching back to the estate. You roll your eyes and follow him. You're going to have to put up with this for months?

Well... maybe not.

He leads you through the back door, not wanting to "upset the guests any further", and tells you to wait for him in the kitchen.

Great. Just great.

You watch Riddle straighten his tie and walk into the parlor to speak with the guests, prim and proper as ever. Eye roll.

The door opens- not the door to the parlor, but the one you'd just come from. You turn with a curious look.

"Oh!" another boy says. "I apologize, I wasn't... expecting anyone."

After a moment, it hits you- this is the love interest's sensible childhood friend, so unimportant in the plot that he was cut from the movie adaptation entirely.

You raise an eyebrow. "No, it's alright. Beats getting yelled at,"

He blinks, confused by your wording, and then smiles. You know you shouldn't be thinking these things, but it's sort of cute. What was his name, again?

"Ah... I suppose Riddle found you, then?"

"You suppose correctly,"

"Heh," he crosses his arms. "I apologize on his behalf. He was just... worried."

Wonderful. This is the part where he tells the protagonist about the love interest's sad backstory, isn't it?

"I don't really want to talk about him right now," you say. "Honestly, I'd rather hear more about you."

His smile falters, and he seems a little... well, taken aback. As if no one has ever asked him about himself.

"I... I suppose we haven't been properly introduced, have we?" he mutters, adjusting his glasses in nervous habit. You remember reading that. It was cute.

"My name is Trey Clover. My family owns the bakery in town, but I'm afraid it's not as glamorous as this."

He means the Rosehearts' manor. You could care less about that.

"You bake?"

"...I do," Trey says. "You eat?"

It's a stupid joke, but it makes you smile.

You nod, and he goes back outside, returning with a basket.

"These are for the guests..." he says, taking a pastry out of the basket. "...But they won't notice if one is missing."

You accept the treat. "Rulebreaker, are you?"

Trey's face flushes, but he laughs it off.

"Certainly not. Rule-breaking is a dangerous pastime in this household,"

And yet, he did it for you.

You smile back.

Suddenly, Riddle's temper isn't going to be the only difficult thing about playing this part...

➼ His Rival

With a movie adaptation on the way and a permanent spot on the bestseller's list, you had great expectations for this little book.

You'd heard nothing but praise. Even your family members had recommended it to you, saying that it was right up your alley, and they thought you'd love it.

So, finally, you buy the book (which is WAY too expensive), make yourself a warm drink, get cozy in bed, and...

And... it's terrible. It's completely unrealistic! It's downright boring!

Disappointed, you put it down, turn off the light, and try to sleep it off.

Try to, because you wake up disgruntled and groggy, and not in your bed. In fact, you're not in a bed at all.

"There you are!" a voice comes from above you.

You look to see a short, panicked lavender-haired boy. "Where have you been?! You're on in five!"

You rub your eyes. "Huh?"

"Didja hit your head or 'somethin? If we don't get you back on stage, my boss is gonna-"

"Going to what, Epel?" a colder, stronger voice carries across the hall. You both turn to see a meticulously dressed man with a stern look on him, and not a single hair out of place.

...Shit. You know where you are.

This is the romance book you'd been reading!

"S-sorry, Mr. Schoenheit," Epel says. "But it's their fault! They're the one who ran off!"

"I know that," Vil Schoenheit, the antagonist of the story, says. He narrows his eyes. "I'm not surprised our little potato has already quit. Couldn't handle the pressure, hm?"

You blink- oh, no.

You're the protagonist- the normal, nobody student who was ~randomly~ chosen to be the lead in a romantic drama, even though they've never acted a day in their lives.

"I-I just-"

"Enough of that," Vil says sternly. "Now, get up. These costumes aren't cheap, and you're dirtying yours on the floor."

He escorts you out of the hall and back onto set, Epel not far behind.

"Places!" someone shouts, and Epel nudges you into position on the sound stage.

"Remember, you don't say anything in this scene," he whispers, covering his headset mic. "Just look like you're in love. And make the kiss believable!"

Your eyes widen. "The WH-"

"Quiet on set!" the director yells, and Epel hurries away. "Action!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as the doors fly open and the book's love interest, actor Neige Leblanche, runs on set. His outfit is simple but glamorous, his eyes wide with emotion, his dark hair lightly tousled.

Horrifically, he's wearing a generous amount of lip gloss. So are you.

"My love!" he cries out, running up the steps toward you. You watch in horror as he gets closer and throws his arms around you, and just as you're about to have the dramatic, impassioned kiss the book has been leading you to, you push him off.

The director stares. Neige's eyes widen. Epel smacks his forehead.

The rest of the set is silent.

Finally, you feel a cool hand wrapping around your wrist, and suddenly, you're outside again.

"Have you lost your mind?" Vil hisses, his grip on you tightening. "You are making a fool out of all of us. You're an embarrassment to this production, and you should have never even..."

He stops, mid-rant, when he sees your eyes watering.

"...Don't you dare make me feel sorry for you,"

You sniffle, and he sighs. He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs at your eyes, careful not to smudge the stage makeup.

"You're going to ruin someone's hard work like that, you know," he murmurs. "Now, what are you crying about? Isn't this what you want?"

You shake your head. You must look absolutely miserable, because he isn't even a little mad anymore.

"...You're ridiculous," he mutters, tucking the handkerchief away with a faint smile. "But I can't say I blame you. I wouldn't want to kiss him, either."

You take a deep breath, and then return his smile. How can someone so sweet be a villain?

Vil lets the moment linger. His eyes dart to the stage doors behind you, then back to you, and then he holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, and then he kisses you.

It doesn't last for long, but it's enough to leave you dazed when he pulls away.

"...Your lip gloss is smudged," he comments, and then he walks back to set without another word.

...Perhaps this book is more interesting than you'd thought.

➼ His Father

When your friend started gushing about this new dark romance book she finished, you thought she was just reading a bunch of tropes off a page.

Fae court? Handsome, mysterious, brooding princes? A tall, dark, possessive love interest? Sure.

You promise you'll try it, and she takes that as a "yes", leaving the book on your desk. It goes untouched.

You wake up in a dark forest. For a moment, you think you're still dreaming- until a thorn pricks your finger, drawing blood, and you realize this is very, very real.

You can see a medieval castle off in the distance, and to your horror, you realize where you are.

"No... this isn't happening..." you mutter to yourself.

"What isn't happening?"

You jump at the sudden noise, and turn on your heels to see someone behind you. How you missed him, you're not sure. He's pale, his hair is striped pink, and his eyes are almost glowing.

"Not from here, are you?" he says with a smile. "You must be tired. Come, Lord Malleus' home is always open to guests."

This is the weirdest stranger danger situation you've ever been in. This small gentleman has fangs.

He chuckles. "Don't let appearances fool you. We're quite hospitable!"

You think about it- you could stay in the forest, and die of a slow and agonizing death, either by starvation or mauling, or you could play the part, return to the castle, fall in love with the tall love interest, and have his babies.

...Honestly, hypothermia doesn't sound too bad.

But you also know that the book has to end eventually. And when it does, you'll get spit out. Maybe.

You're in the mood for taking chances.

The castle is just as grand and old as your friend had described it. The food is just as strange, the court just as intimidating.

Strangely, though, she never mentioned any short, pink-haired fae, apparently named Lilia Vanrouge.

"Enjoying the view, are you?" he asks, having caught you staring.

You quickly look back at your own plate. "It's just, um... well... I was wondering about your relationship to the prince,"

He winks, as if to say "nice save".

"He's... well, a foster son, of sorts. Think of it however you'd please,"

"Are you comfortable?" the prince in question asks, his eyes showing genuine concern.

You shrug. "...I guess so,"

"How does one get so lost they end up in Briar Valley, anyway?" one of his knights, Silver, asks in a soft tone.

"AND HOW CAN WE BE SURE THEY AREN'T AN ASSASSIN SENT TO HARM OUR LIEGE?!" the other, Sebek, says in a less-soft tone.

"Oh, nonsense," Lilia says. "Malleus likes them. Don't you, Malleus?"

The prince nods. Oh, brother.

"How nice. Perhaps you two should rendezvous after dinner? To get to know each other better, hm?"

You stare down Lilia, practically begging him to shut up. You want to shake him and shout "Stop trying to set me up with your weird kid!!!!!"

Sebek looks appalled at the very idea. "BUT- MASTER LILIA- THEY CANNOT BE TRUSTED! I CANNOT ALLOW THIS!"

Thank you, Sebek!!! you think.

"Yeah, um... you know, I'm kind of tired, so..." you say. "Maybe tomorrow? Or next week? Or, um, whenever. You know."

Sebek visibly relaxes at that, and Silver raises an eyebrow.

"Of course," Malleus says. "I will have the finest room arranged for you at once."

And he did. This world may be stuck in ye olde medieval fantasy times, but man, what money can't buy...

As you look around the exquisite room, you hear a knock at the door.

Lilia comes in without waiting for an answer. "Enjoying the room, I hope?"

You sigh.

"Did Malleus send you?"

He chuckles, and takes a seat on your bed. "I am his keeper, he is not mine. I just wanted to see how you were faring,"

"I'm fine," you turn back to the wall, pretending to look at a tapestry. The sight of him on your bed is... distracting, to say the least.

"Hm..." Lilia hums. "...I would like to apologize for overstepping at dinner. I did not mean to imply anything. We're rather isolated here, and Malleus has been lonely..."

It makes sense, of course. He's only looking out for his... strange, sort-of son. Still...

"And you're not?" you ask.

Lilia doesn't have a response for that. You turn around to gauge his expression, and he's smiling.

"Khee hee. You're a clever little thing. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were flirting,"

Now, it's your turn to not respond. He's caught you, and he knows it.

Your heart beats with something like excitement as he stands and closes the door.

"But I suppose I have all night to figure it out,"

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

AN: Annnd we're back! Buckle up guys, because if you thought Nancy was fucking up before you have no idea lolololol

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [Three weeks had gone by since the holidays. I was starting to see less of Vanessa, who was constantly busy with her work]

Nancy Narrates: [I tried my to hide how much I missed her around but I was certain my yearning was written all over my face]

Queenie: [hums absently] The holiday issue of the foundation’s newsletter is late. No surprise, it was late last year as well.

Queenie: Did you fire your stylist, Nancy? You’re not even coordinated with your husband and sons, it’s as if they’ve plucked a stranger off the street and had you pose together.

Geoffrey: With all due respect, Nancy looks amazing. She always does. She puts a great deal of effort into how she presents herself in front of the press.

Queenie: Looking the part is the point, Geoffrey. Regardless if she is standing CEO, she is a wife and mother first. I've mentioned this to her countless times, it’s as though she's still a little girl.

Geoffrey: [whispers] Hey. You looked amazing, Nancy. You always do.

Jonathan: Can we play in the courtyard, Grandma?

Queenie: Of course you can, my darling. I was just looking over your holiday photos, and you looked so very handsome, Jonathan.

Malcolm: And me? What about me!

Queenie: [frowns] Where on Earth did you get this...this girlish necklace from?

Malcolm: Mommy’s best friend got it for me for Christmas.

Queenie: [rolls eyes] Ah. Right. The movie star.

Malcolm: Auntie V isn’t a movie star.

Queenie: And who exactly is Auntie V?

Jonathan: Mommy’s friend from school, Auntie Vanessa.

Queenie: Villareal?

Nancy: I- D-didn’t you boys want to play in the um, in the courtyard?

Queenie: Geoffrey. I trust that you are doing your part by keeping your wife aligned with the values of our faith, yes? I’d hate to see her fall into old habits.

[phone rings]

Vanessa: Hello?

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi Nancy. How are you, love?

Nancy: Miserable. I’m having breakfast at my mother’s. [chuckles softly]

Vanessa: Oh fuck. [laughs] That sucks, I’m sorry babes.

Nancy: [sighs] I miss you.

Vanessa: I miss you too.

Nancy: When can I see you again?

Vanessa: Soon. I have a business trip in DSV. I’ll be gone a few days.

Nancy: A few days? You’ll miss my birthday..

Vanessa: Trust me, that’s the last thing I want. But you know how it is with work.

Nancy: [hesitates] You don’t suppose- I don’t want to impose but...maybe I could come with you?

Vanessa: Come with me on my work trip?

Nancy: I know how to keep myself busy. I won’t interfere with your work- whatever it is. But I’d like to spend my birthday together. It’s the only thing I want. Please.

Vanessa: Well, when you sound so sweet like that, how could I ever refuse?

-

Geoffrey: So, you’ll be gone a week.

Nancy: Right. You know Judy. Every day is an event.

Geoffrey: Vanessa too, right?

Nancy: Well...yes, of course. Just my two best friends celebrating my birthday with me.

Geoffrey: Right. Yeah.

Nancy: Oh, and I’ve already told the boys we can all celebrate together when I’m back. I told them not to fuss about it, I promise I won’t be too partied out.

Geoffrey: Nancy?

Geoffrey: Are you having an affair?

Nancy: W-what did you just say to me?

Geoffrey: I said, are you having an affair?

Nancy: [voice tremors] W-why? Why are you asking me that?

Geoffrey: I saw the marks, Nance. I wasn’t sure, at first, but I saw them. On the inside of your thigh on our anniversary. They look like hickies. And I kept thinking about when you came home late from work in tears...but you never said why. Is there someone else? Another man? Another...

Nancy: Oh my god- no! No, Geoffrey! I’d never- I’ve always bruised easily, you know that. I could have bruised myself at work, on site. And that night.. I know that I’m not a good wife. I know I’ve been away from home. I’m trying to do better. I am. You know that. But I am not having an affair of all things.

Geoffrey: But I saw them, Nance...

Nancy: [whimpers] You are the only man I’ve ever loved. Please...please believe that. I need you to believe it.

Geoffrey: Nancy..

Nancy: I love you so much. I do.

Geoffrey: [exhales] Nancy-

[car horn beeps]

Nancy: That’s Vanessa. Should I send her away? I could stay home, if you want.

Geoffrey: [frowns] If I want?

Nancy: I don’t have to go. I can stay.

Geoffrey: You should go.

Nancy: Are you sure, Geoffrey?

Geoffrey: if that’s what you want.

Nancy: [gently] I love you.

Vanessa: Ready?

Nancy: Yes. I’m ready.

[thebestsetter]

Kuroo has always had a bad hair.

Ever since he was a kid, one of his main physical traits is his atrocious bed hair. He wakes up like that because of how hard he presses his pillows to his ears while he sleeps, so it's not really a habit he can change easily. Also, he has never had a problem with it, especially because his pretty wife, you, said it's one of your favorite parts of him.

You always talk about how you love his hair, even if you still call him "rooster head" sometimes. You love to pet it, you love the shape, the color and everything involving his hair. Not even he is capable of understanding the "attraction" you feel for it, so he just enjoys it.

So yeah, he doesn't really hate his hair, and overtime, he learned how to keep it more "tamed" and "behaved". So he thought his hair problems were over. No more bad hair days.

Well, he thought.

"Stupid... hair tie...." Kuroo murmured, voice coming out muffled because of the pink butterfly pin with glitter that was on his mouth. His eyes held a look of extreme concentration, akin to a hunter aiming for a deer in the middle of the woods.

He was serious. In fact, he had never been so serious in his life. Because this wasn't any occasion. It was the first time you had ever let him dress up your 5 year old daughter for school. He couldn't mess this up.

Her hair needed to be perfect. He just seemed to forget he had never braided a hair before in his life.

"Daddy, are you alright?" His little girl asked, feet moving around and hands on her lap, waiting patiently for her dad to finish the "amazing hairstyle" he promised her.

If only she knew.

"Yeah, sweetheart!" Tetsuro said, drops of sweat running down his forehead. "Just wait a little more!" He said, taking his phone off his pocket while still holding a lock of hair and still with the butterfly pin in his mouth.

He then started watching a video on youtube. It's title was "How to make a braid with only 3 steps".

"Ah, so it's actually done with 3 locks of hair, not only 2!"

He then began treading his daughter's hair with such precision that it was scary. His eyes were focused and it seemed like he couldn't pay attention to anything else. It was only him, the hair ties, and the hair. Nothing else.

After a while, things were actually going somewhere.

No way. He was almost getting it finished!

"Tetsu, honey, are you guys ready?" He heard you calling from the kitchen

"One sec, love!" Kuroo shouted back. "Now I just need to do this and... AHA! My masterpiece is ready!"

"How do I look, daddy?" His daughter asked, smiling brightly at him. Even if she had some missing teeth, Kuroo swore it was the prettiest smile he had ever seen in his life. Of course it was. It was just like your's, afterall.

"You look amazing sweetie. Like a real princess! You're your dad's princess, you know that, right?"

"Thank you dad!" She smiled again, hugging him strongly. He hug her back, careful not to touch her hair in the process. He couldn't ruin his hard work!

"Now, why don't we go show mama how great you look, hm?" He crouched down and smiled at her

"Of course! Let's go dad!" She laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him downstairs.

She really was the cutest kid Kuroo has ever seen.

"Okay sweetheart, close your eyes!" Kuroo said, peeking from the kitchen's door. "Our daughter wants to surprise you with her amazing hair - the one I braided, of course"

"Sure, Tetsu! I can't wait to see this great work of art!" You giggled, using a sarcatic tone.

I mean, look at his hair. He couldn't have an experience with braiding. It was clear the hair would look utterly horrible.

"Hey, I sensed that sarcasm!" He said, which made you giggle "Mind you, she loved it!"

"If you say so. I'm gonna close my eyes now!" You smiled, putting your hands on front of your eyes to show them you wouldn't cheat and open your eyes

"No peaking, mama!" You heard your daughter saying, her little footsteps making you realize she entered the kitchen.

"Yeah, no peaking!" Kuroo agreed.

Gosh, they really were the same.

"Okay, okay! I'm not gonna peek"

"Now, I'm gonna count to three and say 'now'. Then you can open your eyes!" Kuroo said, voice showing how excited he was

"Okay!" You smiled

"1..."

You were really starting to think he did a great job. He looked so proud of it, after all!

"2..."

You heard your daughter giggling in the background. Maybe you really judged your husband wrong. Maybe he did know how to braid hairs.

"3..."

You were sure it would be at least decent. If it was, then you'd let your daughter wear it to school. If they were both happy, why not?

"Now!"

You then remove your hands from your face and open your eyes, meeting the most...

Atrocious braid you've ever seen.

"She's not going like that to school." You deadpanned, looking at the hair and wondering why he thought this looked good. Had he never seen a braid before in his life?

"HUH? WHY NOT?" Kuroo shouted, his chest that was once proudly puffed up now deflating

"Why not, mama?" Your daughter started tearing up, looking up at you with big, pleading eyes.

"It looks..." terrible. Is what you really wanted to say.

But looking at your the sad faces of your family members, you didn't find the strength to do so. And so, with a sigh, you smiled and said

"Too good! Other kids will be jealous!"

"For a moment there I thought you were judging my hairstyling habilities!" Kuroo laughed, that obnoxious laugh of his that you loved so much echoing through the halls

"Oh!" Your daughter also laughed, the same way her dad did "There's no problem! I can tell dad to do their hairstyles too!"

"Great idea, sweetie!" Kuroo agreed with her, eyes sparkling up

"I think... it's better if you don't"

"What do you mean by that?" Kuroo asked, looking straight at you with a very sad face.

"Just... you don't seem to have a talent with hairs."

"But you told me you love my hair!" Tetsuro pouted

"I do. And I love you, too!" You kissed his nose, making him smirk at you.

"Not enough. What about... here?"

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the lips. It was full of all the love and passion he held for you and the family you both created together.

"Ewww, daddy and mommy are kissing! Gross!" Your daughter put her tongue out and did a "throwing up" mimic, making you both laugh.

"Now, let's take you to school, sweetheart!"

You smiled, leading both your husband and your daughter to the car.

You really loved your family, even if Kuroo didn't know how to deal with hairs sometimes.

You wonder if he would "get along" better with his son's hair. The son that he still doesn't know is in your belly right now.

Well, he still has 7 months to practice for when the time comes.

~ A/N: FINALLY WROTE A REQUEST!! It was so fun writing this omG. I love healthy families 💕. ALSO, first hq fic!! 🥳🥳

Masterlist

[insomniac-dot-ink]

WANTED

You find the advert face down on the table. You’re picking up after your grandma. She insists her mind is sharp as a tack but her empty tea cups and loose handkerchiefs and day-old newspapers litter every surface. You scan the paper, and a part of you is sure there aren’t any more jobs like this.

The paper is yesterday’s paper and the various jobs match LinkedIn. Nannying and dog walker and kitchen staff. The advert, the one, is stark against the others. You read the tiny printed words over and over, always getting stuck on the word WANTED.

Your friends told you not to go: what kind of job asks you to meet in the middle of the woods? What kind of jobs has no website or contact info? What kind of jobs were advertised in the goddamn paper? You friends wouldn’t get it.

Anastasia, your best friend since third class, tells you to keep your “Find My Phone” on and call when you get there. She really wouldn’t get it. Your grandma tells you that this is the world, the other version of it, and you are her granddaughter. So go.

You walk the three and a half miles in your high heels. This job probably wouldn’t even expect high heels, but old habits die hard. You were once convinced in college your girlfriend cast a curse on you, the sleepless nights and a relentless rash proved it. Now that you’re an adult, an adult-adult, you don't think so anymore. If anything was a witch’s spell, it was LinkedIn. Hours and hours of youth wasted on the same go-around.

5 years of experience and 3 different references and no street parking but the bus is only a block away. You can walk, right? Unpaid overtime and shaving your legs to go sit for an hour in an uncomfortable plastic chair. That’s an unusual last name, is it a family one? Ah. I see.

You can walk for a long while. Your heels slup, slup, slup in the soupy ground and it takes you longer than you’d like to look around. The street lights dwindle. The trees gather. The path disappears. The woods are thick and unfamiliar and an iron fence rises in the distance. Despite the late summer heat, the air smells of frost. Maybe Anastasia was right–whether you are your grandmother’s descendent or not.

She comes out of the woods on rail-thin chicken legs. Her skirt is short, cut at a horizontal angle, and she looks like where the punk scene from the 80s went to die. She has a studded leather jacket and bleach-blonde asymmetrical hair. You shove your hands in your stupid suit jacket and check the skies. Half-moon, just risen, you’re right on time.

“You here for the advert?”

“It’s half-moon, isn’t it?” You say back and flash her a tight smile. You have a sudden sinking feeling about her ability to write you a paycheck. 

She looks you up and down. “Spirit?”

“Ghoul.” You shrug. “Yaga?” She sticks out one of her stalky chicken legs. “Servant of one. Two gens back. On my father’s side.” Your strained smile gentles. “I’m Katie. You?” Her smile sharpens in response. “Stephanie. Come on, let’s take a walk.” “Was that a real advert, Stephanie?” You saddle up beside her despite yourself. “Cause if you’re just here to pull my leg, know that I'm pretty hard to put down.” She lets out a harsh laugh that sounds like it hurts. “I’m counting on it.” She winks. “Now, not sure I know your line so well, what’s the difference between a ghoul and a spirit?” What is a spirit or ghoul? What was a gig worker or a salaried one? Perhaps a whole length away. Stephanie pushes a bush aside to reveal a hole in the iron fence and leads you through. The grass turns from wild heather to manicured green and you emerge into a field of rolling hills. Your skin prickles. You might be hard to kill, but maybe not to capture. You stay low to the ground.

“Can I be paid upfront?” Her breath smells of winter frost and fresh-turned soil. “You down that bad?”

You survey the trimmed grasses and gentle slopes, the unnatural prickle spreads through your skin to your bone. A house rises in the far-distance, and you swallow thickly. “Is this some Scooby Doo shit?”

“Come on.” She pushes your shoulder. “I’ll pay upfront. The only real question is if you’ve got a pair of lungs on you.” You toss your ponytail back. “For as long as you like. But, I gotta ask, are there really not any free banshees right now?” Stephanie’s smile falters for the first time. “Old world is dying,” she snorts. “Or just buried deep enough to feel that way.” “We’re still here.” “Still here.” She slips you two hundred and takes you to the side of a small lake. The water is murky and the edges form an unnatural drop. She hands you a lightweight dress, gauzy and impossibly white, and you wrinkle your nose. You looked back and forth between the far-distant house and the lake.

It took you the whole walk to place the gate and the house and the land: The Turnpikes. Built almost seven generations back and larger than ever. You couldn’t imagine. The old world was dying, but you supposed it was also just right there. You put the dress on and kick your heels off. Gathering your stuff, Stephanie gives you a big thumbs up and backs away. You take a deep breath, you don't need many, but you had a feeling it would count.

A light in the far-distant window turns on. You see your grandma in your mind’s eye, her tangled green hair and wicked little smiles. All this for two hundred? But ghoul isn't a banshee. You jump in feet first.

The wet and the cold and the dank water with no memory swallows you. You submerge in the tiny manmade lake, and when you come out, you come out screaming.

The fear of ghouls is an ancient one–something hard to kill. That can walk forever, fight forever, go Without forever. And you think, as you toss your head back, drip water, and let your lungs rattle in your chest, that you might scream forever too.

For two hundred bucks, a ghoul can be a banshee and a world can be made old and new and when you scream, you can scream until you’re made real again.

FIN

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

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[pshaven]

enhypen making YOU lose nnn ?

OUUUUHHHHH. this is good. i love this. ur mind needs to be studied

cw! fwb with heeseung, established relationship with jay and sunghoon, riding, oral (f & m receiving), doggy, reader gets called slutty girl, princess, jay brat tamer hehe, hoon is evil, lmk if i missed anything!

이희승 heeseung ᥫ᭡

as you’re heeseung’s number one fuck buddy… well, he’s not very ecstatic about your decision to join the nnn challenge. he thought it’d be okay at first– he has other people to attend to while you’re busy. he actually discovered something new about himself thanks to your personal challenge: he can only go a few days without you. he really did try to distract himself with other hookups but they just aren’t you! no pussy felt like yours, and no one moaned his name the same like you do. so now he has his own personal challenge: to make you lose nnn! he thinks it’d be a piece of cake, really. because have you seen him? how can you resist him?

turns out pretty well, much to his dismay. he disguises his mission as an innocent “wanna watch some movies tonight?” to come over. you, in skimpy top and flimsy shorts that you typically like to wear when staying in. he thinks– knows– he’ll have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. and you’ve always been such a good girl, so you’ll obey him this time again, right? 

it starts off with just a hand on your thigh, and even though you give him a side eye he pretends he doesn’t notice, eyes too focused on whatever movie you decided to put on. he notices when your thighs tense each time his hand inches close to your clothed cunt, and it’s so slow– you guys have probably burned through two movies already but heeseung wants to take his time, see how long you can really resist him. 

you’re doing too well, and the space in his pants is beginning to tighten up the more you tense your thighs… he swears he can feel the heat radiate off your cunt, he knows you’re wet… you just have to be! by the third movie, he’s done playing around with you and grabs the remote out of your hand, “how ‘bout i give you something else to hold?”

“knew i could get you to cave- ah, shit!” heeseung cursed, hands on your waist as you bounce up and down on his cock. you whine, nails scratching his chest to leave marks that will definitely last for days. 

“i hate you!” you squeal at one particular thrust when he bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. his eyes are focused on your entrance taking his length in, brows furrowed in concentration as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “heh, not enough or you wouldn’t be cumming on me right now.”

박종성 jay ᥫ᭡

he is such a good sport about it, honestly. he’s an amazing boyfriend, at that! he makes sure he avoids doing anything particularly sexy around you (but let’s be for real, anything he does is sexy). he encourages you and does his best to avoid any particular advances that you put on him during no nut november because he knows that once he reciprocates it, it’s over for you. so you do get a lot of no’s and don’t even think about it throughout the month… but he thinks you’ll thank him by the end of the month.

wrong. you’re extra bratty in particular today (november 27th), trying to tease him and tempt him when you rub your palm against his bulge during game night with the other members. he has a good poker face… for maybe ten minutes until he’s rock hard in his sweats underneath the blanket that you both are sharing. you’re stifling your giggles behind his back, occasionally popping in some commentary of the game so the members don’t get too suspicious on why you’re so quiet. 

old habits die hard, so how else is he supposed to act when you’re being bratty? 

“you only had three more days left, princess,” jay taunts in your ear, his hand on your back to bend you over the sink counter. you whine, but you shaking your ass tells him exactly what you wanted. “guess this slutty pussy just can’t live without me, huh?” 

you nod your head repeatedly, “mhm! can’t get enough- wan’ your cock now~” you moan when he slides down your bottoms, hand slapping your ass in the process. he’s a weak man for you, and honestly he’s been dying without your warmth around him for almost an entire month so he’s impatient as well.

jay reaches for your neck, lifting your head up towards him so that your back is arching. “could’ve just stayed a good girl and lasted the whole month,” he mutters into your shoulder as he slides himself in your tight entrance, both of you releasing a long sigh of relief.

심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡

okay… he definitely set himself up for failure when he proposed that you both do the nnn challenge together. he thought it would be soooo funny and easy! not even twenty four hours passed and he already regretted it, seeing you prance around in some cute shorts that leaves half your ass hanging out and a loose shirt that clearly shows your perky nipples. he really hates having a roommate that is as hot as you– maybe nnn wouldn’t be such a challenge then.

you’re determined to get your assignment done as you sit on the couch next to jake, typing away at your laptop while he merely scrolls through his phone, occasionally (every five seconds actually) staring at your tits through your t-shirt like he has x-ray vision. he clears his throat, mindlessly letting some random tiktok play as he begins to zone out, letting his mind think about him wrapping his lips around your pert nipples as he rubs you through your stupid excuse that you call a pair of shorts. 

“you’re hard.”  you comment after hearing the same tiktok play for over seven times. “it’s like you want to lose no nut november?” you tease before shifting your attention back to your laptop. jake clears his throat again, shifting in his seat when your words snap him out of his daze. “want to help me lose?”

“slutty girl- ah fuck- can’t say no to some dick, yeah?” jake muses as you choke down on his cock, saliva dripping out from the corner of your lips. you moan around him, your hand around his length tightening a bit at his words that causes him to curse underneath his breath. 

you go particularly deep, a small reward for him when his fingers inside you speed up. he has you on all fours on the couch, his long arm reaching your cunt as he scissors his fingers inside of you. if he’s going to lose, he’ll lose with you. “f-fuck, you’re so good ‘n so wet for me, huh?” he taunts, your juices squelching from his fingers and sloppy mouth working on his cock.

“oh, you cummin’ already? roomie… didn’t know you were this sensitive. so cute,” he hums, slowing his fingers down as he works you through your orgasm. but he’s talking as if he isn’t five seconds away from cumming down your throat.

박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡

he thinks it’s cute you want to do the nnn challenge! but he also thinks it’s cute that you think you can resist him for an entire month. the exact opposite of jay– he makes it his personal mission to make you lose. he’s such a bad boyfriend, making you exceptionally horny, especially the first night after you tell him about your little goal to accomplish this challenge. he’s playing with you in bed, the hands on your waist not so discreetly creeping up to your chest. you have to physically detach his hands away from you so you don’t start acting up. 

the next morning is even worse– he’s stepping out of the shower and into your shared bedroom with only a towel that is barely hanging on his waistline. your mouth goes dry, your attention completely stolen away from your phone and onto sunghoon. “you sick bastard,” you curse under your breath, but it doesn’t go unheard by your sneaky boyfriend. “you could just… i dunno, lose right now,” he mumbles, going over to you as he nuzzles your neck. you’re doing much better than he thought when you push him away with a stern and determined look on your face. 

but in the end, he’s always right. and you give in like a child who’s offered some more playtime if they complete their homework. but he really didn’t expect you to give in when he’s doing something so basic, cooking dinner for you when you come back late from uni or work. but it gives him an ego boost either way. 

“can’t believe you got turned on from me cooking,” he snickers as he lifts his head up from in between your thighs. you roll your eyes, your grip on his hair tightening as you pull him back into your cunt. “i-it was the domestic-ness of it, okay? just shut up and make me lose already,” you pout. 

he groans, sliding his fingers inside of you with ease, thanks to his own work. “you already did… approximately one minute ago. but i guess i can make you lose twice,” he grins before he latches his mouth onto your sensitive bud.

[avocado-writing]

Oh maybe dp+w poly with sick reader? Nothing too angsty but I love the idea of having those two as your nurses when you’re out of commission for a few days 😭

You simply cannot stop shivering. It’s been racking your body like this for hours. It feels like your fucking skeleton is trying to escape, your teeth chattering in a way which would be almost comical if it didn’t fucking suck.

This morning you didn’t wake up feeling great, and your boys noticed. Logan can always smell when something is wrong, which Wade never tires of mocking him over (“what is it girl? Is there trouble at the old mill?” “Fuck off, Wilson.”) so when you had a slight temperature change, he was immediately at your side, rough hand on your forehead.

“You okay, bub?” voice quiet. Intimate. Concerned. You’d waved him away.

“Yeah, I’ll get some OJ and take it easy. Probably a seasonal thing, don’t even worry about it.”

Wade had cocked his head to the side. “If you’re not well, pookie, we can stay here. We can go and kill people any day. We only get one of you.”

But you knew they’d been trying to make a habit of sorting out local crime, proving they were good guys (you knew they were. They just needed to show it to themselves, it seemed) so you’d waved them off.

That had been a mistake. As soon as they walk in, stinking of blood and exhausted to the bone, a dual look of horror crosses their faces.

“Ah, fuck,” mutters Logan. He’s by your side at an instant, sliding his hands under your blanket in order to lift you into his lap. Fuck, he’s like a hot water bottle - you immediately snuggle into his chest to feel the warmth. “Baby, we shouldn’t have left you.”

Wade closes in, moving a finger side to side so that you follow it with your eyes. “Are you okay, sweetheart? How many handsome men do you see?”

“Two,” you chuckle, and Wade makes a show of tutting.

“Well you’re wrong there. Let’s be honest, only one of us is likely to win PEOPLE’s sexiest man alive award again, honey.”

You’re not sure what he means but he makes you smile, anyway.

“Wade, you’re handsome.”

“And you’re sick. I’m gonna go and get you some chicken soup, then we’re gonna sit here and watch that absolutely terrible show you like all night,” he announces, reaching over to give you a kiss on the forehead. “Haha, ew. Sweaty. I still love you though. Hold down the fort, peanut.” He reaches over to kiss Logan on the forehead too, who is remarkably accepting of it.

“Love you.” You hum as he peels off his suit and grabs some sweatpants, before moving your head to look up at Logan. “Love you too.”

Logan mutters it back, his lips buried into your crown, like he can will you better with the force of his affection.

Maybe, between them, they just might.

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[cheralith]

APARTMENT 345 — INTERLUDE : SMOKE

feat. karasu tabito || wc: 1.3k contains: fem!reader, no pronouns used, alcohol consumption, smoking, cigarette kiss (indirect kiss) a/n: this isn't relevant to the storyline dw, this is just more of a slice of life kind of thing series masterlist

If there is one singular thing that Karasu Tabito hated about the city—it's that no matter how brightly the city lights glow, they'll never live up to the true shine of the stars in the sky.

They cannot make constellations like Aries nor shine as brightly as the star Sirius; and unlike the stars, the city lights only fester stories of the mundane, everyday life. The uniformity of them almost unsettles him, how lined up the street lamps are or how monotone the many taillights of cars shine that frustrated red during evening rush hour.

Karasu takes a sip of his beer, the bitter aftertaste making his lips smack. He leans on the balcony, taking in the air of the new day that's just shy of an hour old. Most people have gone to bed, the liveliness of the city going to rest itself with only a few shy lights still twinkling about. The loft has a rather vast view of the west side of the city, and the fact that the JFU building is situated near the heart of it serves as a reminder of his work-life every time he looks out the balcony window.

He stares at it, the darkened steel grey building that stands menacingly to him. Karasu has gotten used to its intimidation over the years, but it still greets him with a harsh glare every morning, reminding him of what's to come once he steps foot inside it.

The newest project hasn't been doing well. He's never gotten harshly reprimanded by his bosses, his status being rather well-known in the building, but his team has and the guilt weighs down on his shoulders.

He's their senior—he's supposed to be taking care of them and keeping them on track. The interns especially have gotten rather sharp scoldings from the superiors above them, a clear use of power play just to keep them in their place. A week has paid its dues, inching him closer and closer to the deadline despite the fact that only a third of the project is completed.

Karasu lifts the cigarette pinched between his fingers, breathing in the sharp coolness of its menthol taking over the maltiness from the beer, his chest a little icy. He sniffs, nose itching.

A hiss of smoke draws from chapped lips, the bits of stress from the workday being pulled out of him with every blow. Karasu takes another drag, balancing the cigarette on his lips as he swishes the beer can, taking in the sounds of the night the city whispers to him.

"Seven Stars? You've got good taste," a voice calls from behind.

Karasu jumps, turning around at the sound of your voice so nearby. His elbow knocks over the pack situated on the railing, revealing his dirty little habit clear as day to you. Smoke drafts from his nose, almost embarrassingly so.

You close the balcony door behind you, laughing softly as Karasu scrambles to pick up the box.

"Shit darlin', you sure can scare the wits outta a man," he mutters, hiding the box with his foot and the cigarette behind his back.

"I already saw, don't try to hide it from me," you say. You crouch down, pushing his slipper away and picking up the pack of cigarettes.

A shame you saw him in such a state like this. Karasu always wanted you to see the better, more resistant side of him, not the one that delved into bad habits like this.

Your hand sticks out to offer him the pack, only for you to playfully pull it away when Karasu tries to take it. He raises a brow. You give him a grin.

"Lemme have one," you state.

"Ah nah," Karasu shakes his head, trying to swipe at them again, but you only crane it further from his reach. "You shouldn't be doin' stuff like this—"

"Don't coddle me like a kid," you warn with a light pout. "You're only a few months older. You don't think I've dabbled in this before?"

He sighs, giving up, not wanting to offend you. "Fine. But just one."

"Are you trying to be frugal?" a tease in your voice melds its way through. "They did just up the tax on these things."

He clicks his tongue. "No, I just don't want you to pick up a habit like this."

"I can handle a cig or two every once in a while," you mutter, pulling one out of the box and handing it back to him, placing it between your lips. Karasu tucks it away in his pajama pant pocket for safekeeping. "I need one anyway, with how work went today."

Victims of the corporate world often know that there was this shared struggle and quiet understanding of trying to keep your sanity as best as possible within the walls of grey. It wasn't the first time Karasu had seen you exhausted from work, especially in consideration that you came home rather later than everyone else.

Karasu reveals back the cigarette from behind his back. No point in trying to hide it now. He juts it between his lips, sucking it in as you toy with the lighter situated from the table, sparks flashing about.

"Was it your boss again?" he asks, recalling your complaints about one of the older male higher-ups you had an irk with. "The stubby, balding one?"

"Not quite. One of the interns deleted a major query and we had to spend the rest of the day trying to recover it," you roll your eyes, still struggling with the lighter. "Why won't this—"

Karasu takes it from your hands and tries an attempt at getting a flicker, only to be faced with the same dull sparks. He holds the body up to the light, only to find it nearly out of lighter fluid. "I must've used it all up. Sorry 'bout that, lemme see if I've got a spare in my room."

"Hold on," you interrupt, sticking a hand out in front of him before he can take a step back into the loft. "I've got a better idea."

He quirks up a brow, cigarette also flicking up in curiosity. You motion for him to come closer, as if you were about to tell him a secret. Karasu leans forward, moving to lend his ear, but instead you gently compress your cigarette between your fingers and place its clean tip to his own glowing one, the heat of his transferring to yours.

He has to fight a hitched breath, choking down a cough at the abrupt motion. His fingers move to hold his cigarette into place before he can accidentally drop it, watching as ash sanctions itself between the two sticks, sharing the warmth. You hold yours there for a moment, just keeping still as you watch for smoke to rise from them.

Karasu is frozen into place, focusing his gaze onto the closeness of you to him rather than the kiss of the two cigarettes. Your eyelashes just barely flutter against your cheeks, eyes half-dimmed from the prodding of sleep. Your lips plush against the orange filter paper. How you blink so slowly, like a cat in affection, when you wait for your cigarette to properly be lit.

A shy tendril of grey vines out from the two after a moment, and you pull away from him, Karasu feeling the coldness of the night once more. Dryness envelopes his throat when he swallows—he doesn't think its from the tobacco.

He watches intently as you inhale, deep and slow, basking in the taste of it before you just barely open the cavern of your lips and let the smoke draw out from them, a silent hush of wind escaping you. You sigh contently, feeling the menthol ice over your lungs.

Karasu takes another drag of his own, just admiring at your relaxing state when you close your eyes and let the damage do its work. You open them eventually, a glaze over your eyes, a quiet acknowledgement of "thank you" to him for letting you indulge.

A one-beat chuckle escapes him before you and he lean over the balcony together, just silently taking in the nightlife. You hum a tune, just something to break the quiet.

The city lights seem to glow a little more intently now, Karasu thinks, admiring the gentle glow of yellow and orange they cast upon your face.

a/n: for that one anon who wanted a bit more of the cigarette kiss mentioned in the headcanons :] a rather self-indulgent piece, i can't lie, also bc i felt bad for how short karasu’s chapter was compared to otoya’s

i think these interludes will just come and go; little tidbits of their life that aren't vastly a part of the plot but rather just bits and pieces of their domestic life. would you guys still like to be tagged in these? may have to update the taglist if so hmm

[insanity6666]

Molten hearts

You receive a gift from Vulkan, and you panic. (A little)

“Vulkan? You called for me?” You spoke up as you entered his workshop, the words had taken a moment to form as you had to consciously keep from adding ‘Lord’ before his name. Like breaking an old habit. You tried, though, because he had asked and always seemed a little sad whenever you addressed him title first.

You didn’t expect the large man with glowing fiery eyes to be capable of the ‘sad puppy’ look, but you also didn’t expect to be chosen as one of his personal remembrancers, let alone to become his friend.

‘At least,’ you think as you wander deeper inside, nodding at a few of Vulkans sons as they mingled in the workshop as well, ‘I’m fairly certain we’re friends. Probably.’ It would certainly be presumptuous, but more than anything it would be embarrassing if you turned out to be wrong. It didn’t help that he was kind and polite to everyone, but you liked to think you got special attention sometimes.

The thought made your cheeks warm, but the heat of the forge covered that up nicely. Thankfully. You breathed in the heated air, tasting the ash and the tinge of metal, the smell of molten alloys and sweat that seemed to fill the room more than air. You sensed it before you even caught sight of who you were looking for, towering over his sons like a great burning mountain. But instead of the terrifying aura of power and sense of impending, inescapable death, it was comforting. Like nothing could touch you as long as you stayed close, not danger, not cold, not even the cruel words of others.

“Ah! There you are.” His already glowing eyes seemed to burn all the brighter when they caught sight of you. “I didn’t pull you from anything, did I?” He asked, seemingly genuinely concerned. You smiled up at him, his concern for you warming you more than the forge ever could.

“I was just finishing up when you called,” You said, giving a customary bow. He looked disapproving, but you gave him a cheeky grin. He may be happy to waive social etiquette, but you refused to forgo at least the basics. Especially because he is, technically, your boss and most definitely your superior in all other things.

“I’m glad, I would hate to be scolded for interrupting your work again. You are a terrifying force when agitated.” he spoke, a rumbling laugh blooming from his chest. You gaped at him, straightening up and crossing your arms, formality forgotten.

“You scared me! I was handling molten glass! You of all people should know how dangerous that is.” You huffed, more flustered than irritated. You remembered when he had entered your own workshop, back on your home planet, and had managed to sneak up on you while you had melted the sand and minerals to attempt to create something new. You had been so absorbed in your work you hadn’t noticed the giant stranger standing far to close just behind you. You fell deeper into the memory, sinking into it like a soothing bath.

So, when you had turned, you had been rightfully startled, and nearly caused a small fire and did cause you to lose what you had been working on. He hadn’t even had a chance to apologise before you had all but verbally ripped his throat out for being so careless, risking not only the safety and well-being of both of them, but ruining your project and causing damages. As you had to wait until the glass cooled enough for you to clean up and had to go through your safety checks, that had essentially ended your work day, which had cut through your good mood quicker than any weapon ever could. You had been in the zone, too!

It took far too long until you paused long enough to realise the person you were eviscerating was not only a monolith of a man, but also the hero of your home system and an incredibly powerful and important person within not only your own system, now, but also the entire Imperium they had recently joined. You had expected to be reprimanded, or killed, or suffer some terrible punishment for daring to speak out against him.

But Vulkan, as he had introduced himself some time later, only apologised. His head bowed not only because he had to, to better look at you, but also from the proper abash of a well-earned scolding. He looked truly ashamed of himself, and implored that he must do something to make up for it. Figuring he wasn’t going to kill you, but unsure what to do, you said the first thing that came to mind.

‘Help me clean up this mess’ You had told him, and to your surprise he hadn’t said a word against it, only nodding eagerly and together you set to work. As you instructed him on the proper procedures of cleaning up glass, he had begun to ask questions about your craft, which you had happily answered. It hadn’t taken long before the mess was cleaned and you had worked through the paperwork. To your mounting surprise, he had stayed, and invited you to a meal as an apology. When you had tried to argue, he had already helped clean up the mess, he had simply shaken his head and spoken with all the seriousness that one would speak for battle.

“That was simply righting my mistake for the damages, I owe you a proper apology for scaring you.” You hadn’t really understood, but had agreed. A few weeks later, he had asked you to join his people as a remembrancer -an artist and recorder of deeds, as you understood it- and shortly after you had your own room and workshop aboard his ship.

You rose from the memory as his laugh echoed through the room, his head tilted back, showing his throat as a bead of sweat trailed down the cords of muscle and tendons, following the collarbone before disappearing from view underneath his tunic.

Quickly, you forced your gaze up to his face as he returned his own to you, and you pouted. 

“For someone you consider so scary, you seem to take great pleasure in teasing me.” You said, grabbing a hairclip and moving to put your hair up. You had let it down on the walk here, but now you realise you should have left it up.

“While I would dare not try to displease you, I can admit I admire your strength of spirit, and the fire in your eyes that does not dim in my presence.” He spoke the words gently, and you let the smile bloom on your lips even as you lower your eyes, choosing to focus on securing your hair rather than the flutter of your heart. You knew, had seen time and time again, how baseline humans and even his own sons had recoiled and withered when standing before him. You seem to be one of the few who had little to no issue treating him like… well, a person. A powerful person who is technically your superior, yes, but a person nonetheless.

“You flatter me.” You say, lowering your hands from your hair and looking up at him again. So busy you were with your hair, you didn’t notice his expression before he managed to school it into something cooler and calmer. “Now, is there a reason you called? Or did you just miss me?” You teased, causing a bright smile to light up his face, and breathe out another soft laugh.

“And missing you is not reason enough?” He returned, before his smile turned bashful and he turned to pick up a simple, flat wooden box from the table he stood near. “But to answer your question, I made a gift for you. A token, to express my admiration for you and gratefulness for your company.” He held out the box, and you couldn’t blame the forge room for the heat in your cheeks. 

Feeling flushed and an unexpected rush of timidness, among something else, you carefully reach out to accept the gift. The box itself was plain, but well made, stained and polished to a shine. You idly trace along the edge, sending a quick, grateful smile up towards him before you opened to see the contents-

And froze.

Sitting, nestled innocently in velvet, was a circlet. A thick gold band, a complete circle that would sit perfectly upon your head, over your hair. A mix of Nocturnean style and your own cultures, a perfect balance. A beautiful blend. While the overall design was simple, it was still ornate, the patterns, jewels and inlays were exquisite and made more opulent than anything any of your people -not even the royal family- could ever dream of possessing. 

It was also a symbol of marriage.

‘Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.’ you chanted as you stared down at the offering. Tilting the box slightly, as though changing the perspective will somehow turn it into anything other than what it clearly was, but all it did was make it catch the light and make it look even more wondrous. ‘Don’t. Panic.’

“Is it not to your liking?” Vulkan’s voice, usually so calm and warm and strong, was now quiet and fragile. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was afraid.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide as you looked at him, and saw his expression. The way his expression fell... The disappointment was bad enough, but you swore you saw something akin to heartbreak in his face.

‘Panic.’

“No! That’s not-” You rush to comfort, to abolish those thoughts, the words scrambling just as you did, stepping forward to rest a hand on his forearm. “I just- this is…” Stars above, do you tell him? That he had essentially asked for your hand? No, not ‘essentially’. He had. By your own culture. Not his. You know that, but does he? You don’t think so. He didn’t say the words, or court you, or anything like that. Not even by his own culture, or the Imperial Way, as you had checked in idle curiosity (and no other reason) and by all accounts this did just seem like a genuine gift. 

“I’ve never been given… anything like this.” You explain, looking down at the gift. Wondrous and damning. “You’ve caught me quite flustered. I don’t… I don’t have the words for how special this is.” You look up at him again, and you let a genuine smile lift your lips as you shove all the implications into a corner of your mind to be dealt with later. It’s just a gift. Just a brilliant, lovely gift with implications only you know. 

“It’s perfect.” You admit, far too close to being an acceptance of the proposal. If anyone from your home had heard you, they would immediately assume (correctly, in any other circumstance) that you had accepted his offer and were now engaged.

‘Though…’ you look down at the cause of your internal struggle, lifting your hand from Vulkans arm to trail a finger along the velvet near the circlet, not even daring to touch it. ‘This could be considered both an engagement circlet and marriage diadem in the same breath.’

You shove that thought away along with the others, and the quickly piling realisations, implications and possibilities of what is happening right now. You suppose you will just have to let your heart quietly break after this, but for now you can manage.

“It is?” He perks up, and the joyous smile he gave you… you decided then that it was worth it. “I have seen many of the women of your planet adorned in similar headwear, I was worried it was not to your style, as I had never seen you wear one.”

His words confirmed your suspicions. That confirmation was accompanied by the shattering of your hope, and your heart. Foolish and traitorous, both.

He stepped forward, closing the small space you had managed to gain with your retreat. Carefully, gently, he reached over your shoulder and felt a small tug on your hair as he removed the hair clip you had used to put up your hair. Then, delicately, with something you could almost call reverence, he plucked the circlet from its bed and softly placed it upon your head. You stood frozen, unable to wrangle your emotions into some form of compliance as your mind reeled at his actions and their unspoken meaning. A meaning only you knew, only you understood, and so the meaning was nothing even as your heart cried otherwise.

“I was worried it wouldn’t fit,” He hummed, looking over his work and you in equal measure, before smiling. “It suits you. You look,” you swore he almost paused, “beautiful.”

“It sits well.” You said quietly, your whole existence buzzing and numb all at once, “It’s perfect.” You say again, sealing your fate.

“Perfect.” He agreed, with a soft smile. You returned it, and hoped that you hid both the awkwardness and the pain in the knowledge that his actions and his intent were far disconnected to what you knew and associated with the gestures and words.

“I have nothing to give you!” You say, with a sudden, horrified realisation. It is also a relief, as it is a change in subject and something she can focus on instead. Vulkan, the bastard, only chuckled at your panic and rested a hand on your shoulder, though it practically engulfed it.

“No need. I made this with no intention of anything in return.”

‘What you said could be either incredibly romantic or incredibly rude, you know’ you think, almost delirious with the whiplash of emotions and heel-point-turns of the mood in the last few minutes. You give a slight scowl, which only makes his own smile widen.

“Hm… well, I shall endeavour to make you something in turn, regardless.” You declare, practically daring him to refute you, all the while ignoring the implications of your own words, determined to remain friendly and behave properly. You can break down later, in the privacy of your room. For now, you just need to get through this.

“If that is what you wish, then I shall look forward to whatever you give me.” He said, and stepped back. It gave you breathing room, whether he realised it or not. Either way, you were grateful. 

“On that note, I really should get back to work…” You say the words, but make no move to actually leave. You knew that they were fast approaching another conflict, and despite feeling off kilter with everything, you were loath to leave your Primarchs company so quickly.

“I should as well.” Vulkan agreed, also making no move to actually return to work.

‘What are we, teenagers?’ You thought, biting back a chuff of laughter.

“How busy will you be?” You ask, taking the initiative. He gave his workbench a considering look at your words, a considering hum rolling from him.

“If all goes well, I should be finished in time for a late last-meal.” He declares, looking a little disappointed. You masked your own, and gave a nod. War waits for no one, and you will not be so selfish as to make him choose between preparing for battle and keeping you company, would not let your own petty desires risk not only the success and safety of the Primarch, but his sons and the people they seek to save as well.

“Then how about a drink afterwards? If you are not too tired.” You offer instead.

“For you? Never.” He declares, but you raise a brow at him.

“A bold declaration. You would risk your health right before battle? Sleep deprivation is nothing to shrug at.” You warn, your concern for him warred with the joy that he would be willing to risk it to spend time with you.

“You forget, my dear, that I am a Primarch. I can stay awake for days without any loss to my mental faculties. And you did offer.” He retorted as he leaned against his workbench and crossed his arms.

“At your discretion, I would not have you risk your own well-being just to indulge me.” You counter, a grin breaking your attempt to be stern. He gave another of his sweet, deep chuckles, and straightened as he stepped forward. For one mad moment, you thought he was going to reach out to you. For what, you daren’t imagine and pretend to have no idea as to why.

“Very well. I promise that if I am tired, I shall send you a message to reschedule. Agreed?” He asked, and you rewarded him with a bright smile and nodded your agreement.

“Of course. I shall hopefully see you later, then.” You stepped back to give a bow, careful of the new weight adorning your head. Once you straightened, you gave a quick wave as he offered his own farewells, and you calmly walked to the door.

You walked, calmly, out into the halls, through the corridors, down the passageways, and calmly, calmly, walked into your private quarters. You focused on locking the door. Then, you turned and walked over to your desk. Carefully, calmly, take the diadem off your head. And carefully, calmly, put it back into its velvet bed. You took a few steps to your bed. Calmly, calmly, sat down. 

You grabbed a pillow.

And screamed into it.

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A gift for @kit-williams, @beckyninja, @bleedingichorhearts, @jaghatai-khock, @pluvio-tea, @moodymisty, @thethronezone and all the others who got me into the 40k romance and AU part of tumblr. You bastards.