#and seeing art of him like. basking in the rain

[bare1ythere]

Part of me genuinely wants to rewatch all of mp100 just for the Serizawa parts. He's so so special to me as a character with anxiety I need to see it again

[trueebeauty]

"𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎" -gun, goo, james lee.

𝐆𝐔𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊

Never in a million years would you have thought that today would be the day you see Gun so calm.

He's calm all the time when he's with you, but this one is quite different.

It was a rainy day today, and the two of you were on the couch, absentmindedly watching a movie together.

Though you were too busy cutting Gun's fingernails, all because you claimed they were getting too long.

Surprisingly, Gun actually took better care of himself than you would've thought. (Gun was offended)

His hands, although rough and calloused, were always clean, and so were his nails.

"I'm done," you muttered as you clipped off the last remaining fingernail.

Turning to face a stoic Gun, "Do you not like it shorter?" you asked, tilting your head.

"I don't care for it," Gun responded, typical.

You looked at his trimmed hands again, admiring his hands for a second as you caressed them.

Gun's fingers intertwined with yours, and he pulled you closer, "What is it?" he murmured, his voice low and gentle.

You gazed into his eyes, captivated by the tenderness you found there. "Nothing," you replied with a soft smile, “Just admiring you."

Gun's expression softened before he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You're one to talk," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. 

A shiver ran down your spine at the simple yet intimate gesture, and you found yourself leaning in closer, drawn to the warmth of his embrace. 

The movie long forgotten, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other's presence, the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows providing a soothing backdrop.

Tentatively, you reached up too, tracing Gun's face with your fingertips, committing everything to your memory. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and you admired how someone so strong and scary could also be so gentle and vulnerable in your arms.

Gun's hand found its way to the nape of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw, and you felt yourself melting into his touch. With a featherlight tug, he guided you closer, your foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but you heard it.

Thinking you imagined it, you look at him in disbelief, "What?"

Gun's eyes locked with yours, and you saw a vulnerability there that you had never witnessed before. He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself, and repeated, "I love you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, spreading through your entire being. You searched Gun's face, looking for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty, but found none.

"I..." you started, your voice catching in your throat. You had dreamed of hearing those words from Gun countless times, but now that the moment was here, you found yourself at a loss for words.

Gun reached out, his calloused fingers gently caressing your cheek. "You don't have to say anything," he said softly. "I just needed you to know."

You leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as a thousand emotions washed over you. Love, joy, relief, and a tiny spark of fear – fear that this might all be a dream, and you would wake up to find it was never real.

But as you opened your eyes and gazed into Gun's gaze, you knew this was no dream. This was real, and it was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

“I love you, too.”

“I know,” he teased, bringing your hand to his lips and planting a featherlight kiss on your hand.

𝐆𝐎𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐌

You've known Goo for basically your entire life. You grew up together, took martial arts together, graduated together, went to the same schools, studied together, walked together, shopped together, ate together, and even took baths together.

There was never a day where you two were apart... well, that was until he met this strange one-armed man.

Suddenly it became, "I'm going to be late, so eat without me."

"I can't, I have to go return something," he'd shout before closing the door.

Then he started coming home bruised, specks of blood on his clothes, a cut here and there.

"Goo, what the hell happened?"

"Ah, didn't know you were up. Just almost got robbed..."

"Robbed? By who? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a homeless man."

But one thing Goo didn't know is that you could tell when he lied - he smiled wide, too wide. You don't even know if he was aware of this tell himself, but you sure as hell were.

Even if you didn't recognize his lying smile, he was just too obvious. A homeless man? Robbed? Goo Kim? Only an idiot would believe him.

It didn't make the constant lies to your face any better. It just hurt.

Hurt knowing that he didn't trust you, didn't confide in you, left you behind for who knows what shady business. 

And he acted as if everything was normal.

You had reached your limit.

After an awkward silence, you finally spoke up. "Aren't you going to tell me what's wrong?" Goo said, frustration evident in his voice.

"I-I didn't actually expect you to come," you admitted nervously.

"What do you mean? You said you were in danger–" Goo paused, realization dawning on him. "Oh."

"Yep. Now that you're here, we need to talk about a lot of things— where are you going?" you asked, seeing Goo head towards the door.

"Out," he replied curtly, reaching for the doorknob.

You immediately blocked the door. "Out where?"

"Out to get some air," Goo said dismissively, trying to downplay the situation.

"We're not done here. You can't just show up and then leave."

Goo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I’m late."

"Late for what?" you insisted, your voice rising.

Seeing Goo go silent, you continued, "You’ve been like this for months now. I waited for you to explain, but you never did."

Goo opened his mouth to respond, but you kept talking, the words tumbling out rapidly. “So tell me what is going on right now, or I swear I will–”

Before you could continue, Goo stepped closer and gently placed his finger over your lips, hushing you. His eyes locked with yours, and you fell silent.

“Or you will what?” Goo asked.

You slapped his arm away. “I’ll do something really bad,” you said.

Goo rolled his eyes. “Like what?”

As soon as he said that, he felt a burning pain between his legs and collapsed to the ground, breathless and numb.

“That,” you said, a smile on your face.

“Owww,” Goo whined, starting his dramatics.

Rolling your eyes, you sat on the floor next to him, side-eyeing him as he rolled around. Having enough, you grabbed his hair and made him face you. “Tell me,” you said.

"I love you."

You froze, heart pounding at Goo's confession. He took the moment to gently remove your grip and pull you down to lay beside him, never letting go of your hand.

Your hand trembled in his grasp.

"I want to tell you everything, but it's dangerous. I don't want them to find out about you," Goo continued, his voice calm.

"W-who's them?" you asked hesitantly, anxiety creeping in.

"Bad people," he replied vaguely.

"Who are the bad people?" you pressed.

"Evil people," Goo said simply.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him, your noses almost touching. "You're being very vague."

A small smile played across his lips. "I want to be."

You frowned. "So you'll never tell me the full truth?"

"I will, just not right now. It's better if you can enjoy your life without this weighing on you," he said, tenderly brushing a stray hair from your face.

"And what about you? Will you be able to enjoy your life?" The thought of Goo suffering alone made your chest ache.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," he assured you, though his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"That just makes me worry more," you confessed, holding his gaze imploringly.

Goo let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, truly. I hate keeping things from you..."

You both laid there in silence for a few moments as Goo's thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, a tender gesture that didn't quite ease the ache in your heart.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his gaze again. "I don't like this, keeping secrets from each other," you said quietly but firmly.

"Doesn't feel right after everything we've been through together."

"Believe me, I hate it too. More than anything, I want to be fully open with you." He brought your entwined hands up, pressing his lips to your knuckles.

"But some truths are better left unsaid, at least for now, to keep you safe."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gently shushed you again. "I'm not in any immediate danger, I promise. This is more about protecting your peace of mind."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly nodded. As much as it pained you, you knew you had to trust Goo's judgment on this.

"Just...promise me one thing?" you asked, your eyes pleading.

"Anything," he replied without hesitation.

"Don't shut me out completely," you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I need you, even if I can't know every detail right now. We're partners, right?"

Goo's features softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. "Always, I'm not going anywhere. I'll tell you what I can."

It wasn't a perfect solution, but for now, it would have to be enough. You nuzzled closer, letting the solidity of his embrace ease your worries, if only temporarily.

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐄

You sat on the balcony's doorstep, watching the storm and pretty city lights. The rain pattered against the concrete, and flashes of lightning illuminated the skyline, casting a glow over the buildings. 

You enjoyed the quietness and peacefulness, but you felt empty inside, a hollowness that couldn't be filled by the beauty surrounding you.

As the wind picked up, sending a chill through your body, you gazed out into the night, lost in thought. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of a blanket being draped over your shoulders. 

Before you had a chance to turn around, a familiar figure sat behind you, their arms encircling you, holding you close. All at once, you felt a comforting warmth envelop you, and you knew exactly who it was.

In that moment, the emptiness disappeared, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging. 

You leaned back into his embrace, letting the sound of his steady breathing and the rain calm you, "When did you get home?" you whispered, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

You felt him move, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck as he placed a tender kiss there. "A few seconds ago, I was looking for you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

Melting into his arms, you sighed contentedly. "I didn't hear you," you admitted.

He chuckled softly, the vibration resonating through his chest and into your back. "You seemed lost in thought," he said, tightening his hold on you ever so slightly. "What's on your mind?"

Turning your head, you met his gaze, those eyes that always seemed to peer straight into your soul. "Nothing in particular," you replied, offering him a small smile. "Just enjoying the view."

His thumb traced gentle circles on your arm as he studied your face, a tender expression on his own. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" he said, his tone laced with concern.

Nodding, you leaned in and brushed your lips against his, a soft, reassuring kiss. "I know," you whispered, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders in his presence.  

He pulled you closer, his arms a comforting anchor, and asked, "Have you eaten anything today?"

A chuckle escaped your lips at his concern. "I should be asking you that. I know they don't really care about anything other than if you're pretty and scandal-free," you teased lightly as you flicked his pink hair in his face.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he pressed a kiss to your temple. "You know me too well," he murmured against your skin. "But I'm more worried about you. You tend to forget about taking care of yourself when you get lost in that beautiful mind of yours."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't deny the truth in his words. "Alright, alright, you've caught me," you conceded, turning in his embrace to face him properly. "I may have skipped a meal or two today, but only because I was so absorbed in my writing."

His brow furrowed in that adorable way it did when he was concerned for you, and you reached up to smooth away the crease with your fingertips. "Promise me you'll eat something soon?" he urged, capturing your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

Gazing into his eyes, you were struck once again by the depth of his love and devotion, you didn’t know how you got so lucky. "Only if you promise to do the same," you countered with a soft smile. "Deal?"

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned your smile, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. "Deal," he agreed, sealing the promise with a tender kiss that made your heart flutter.

You both pulled away from the kiss, slightly dazed and breathless. As you gazed into his eyes, filled with so much adoration, the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them. 

"I love you, James."

A look of surprise flashed across his face for the briefest of moments before melting into an expression of pure joy. 

His eyes crinkled at the corners as a smile spread across his lips. "And I love you," he murmured, cradling your face in his hands. 

Leaning his forehead against yours, he let out a contented sigh, “More than you could ever imagine."

[allfearstofallto]

Sweetheart <3

Yandere! Scaramouche x fem! Reader

Synopsis: You have a strange lover with no name, who you dub sweetheart

Word count: 2.7k

TW: Yandere, obsession, manipulation, stalking

Chimes. That's how you knew he was coming, a noise that could only be coming from him. What sounded like wind chimes in the air would make your ears perk up. The large, lavish hat that he wore to protect him from the sun and the rain, had little bells on them that jingled and sang when he walked.

“A song just for you,” he once said while placing the hat on your head and you giggled with shy, girlish delight. The weight of it was heavier than you'd expected, but it smelled of him. A scent you could bask in.

You called him sweetheart. A name that he rolled his eyes and scoffed at the first time you said it. You told him time and time again that you didn't know his name, nor did he give you something to call him, so you came up with a placeholder, until he decided to open up to you. Sweetheart. You referred to him as sweetheart.

Whether or not he hated the name was debatable. He told you many times that a pet name as soft as that didn't suit someone like him, but he never explained what that meant. He never told you what someone like him was, he never told you anything about himself, not his name, not where he was from, and not even what he did for work. What little he told you about himself, was barely enough to decipher him.

But what you could see was that he was beautiful. He insisted that he hated you incessant compliments, but you could see a meek smile form on his lips after all of your flattering words. Hair that looked like the night sky and skin paler than sand itself. You often compared him to finely crafted statues or even works of art and he would call that nonsense. But you could see the way your words made him glance at himself in the mirror.

He had a tendency of just showing up at your door. You would hear that familiar song of wind chimes and smell citrus in the air and he'd be there. You'd open the door and see him standing there with his arms crossed and his usual frown on his face, an expression that you didn't think suited his soft, delicate features.

“Sweetheart!” You called out to him. His cheeks already flushed from your brazen display of affection and all he did was turn his nose up at you, his way of hiding flustered you were making him.

You wrapped your arms around him, taking in his sweet scent, and begrudgingly, he did the same, “You said you'd write to me,” your voice was a bit sadder now with your face buried in his chest.

His travels took him far, yes, but never once did he send you a letter and he never told you where you could send one to. When he left, it was like he was vanishing into thin air, like a creation of your own mind and when he came back, it was without warning.

“I said I'd try,” he pulled away from the hug and walked into your home like he owned the place, eyeing the small space over as he did every time he visited. It was almost like he was looking for something, or someone, but he knew you lived alone.

You shut and locked the door, trying not to seem disappointed by the way he was acting. At times you questioned if he really liked you. The way he responded towards you was nothing short of disinterest. He turned away from you kisses and stood stiffly in your hugs. Affection from him was a rare gem, but one you cherished.

“I wasn't aware that you liked flowers,” he had stepped into your living room and was staring at a vase filled with a buslte of silk flowers that were sitting near the window. He was rubbing the petals between his fingertips, while waiting for your answer, a disgusted look on his face.

You tilted your head to the side in confusion, “Oh!” You smiled as the change in conversation piqued your interest, very seldom did he mention the decor of your home, “Those were given to me!”

“Given?” He repeated beneath his breath while still rubbing the flower petals, “by whom?”

His face was turned away from you, but you could hear it in his voice. He was angry. The way he was muttering his words, how his shoulders stayed tense, he shook his head a little, even clicked his tongue, all for sure signs that he wasn't happy with what you'd said.

“By…by no one, sweetheart,” you said with a forced, playful chuckle.

He picked the vase up and held it to the light, humming in distaste, “Is that so?”

You nodded quickly.

“If no one gave them to you, we can just get rid of them right?” He didn't wait for your response, just waltzed across the room with ease and dropped the entire vase in the trash, “If you want flowers, I'll bring you some when I come back again.”

When he comes back. You hated when he said those words. They make your heart sink to your stomach. When he came back? Who knew when that would be and it's not like he'd ever tell you where he was going.

“When…when will that be?” You asked hopefully. Every time you asked the questions, you got a response of soon, someday, and whenever I'm near, but never a true answer.

“Must you ask the same things over and over again,” the annoyance in his voice was palpable and he shot a harsh look at you. The thick red eyeliner around his eyes only making his sharp gaze even more menacing.

You liked him. You did. You liked his shy, bashful demeanor. You liked his beauty that could rival that of the finest paintings. And you thought you liked the mystery of him. You thought you did, until you realized how hard it was getting answers from him. Until you realized that with the way things were going, you would truly never know anything about him. Until you realized that even his name, was a luxury you'd probably never receive.

“I just want to know you,” you muttered softly.

“You know enough,” he stepped closer to you until the two of you were face to face. His eyes, those blue orbs that looked deeper than the ocean, were hard to read. A mixture of hesitation, confliction, anger, and a little sorrow.

You couldn't open your mouth to ask what he meant. He was already kissing you. His lips were soft and tasted sweet like fruit, and his kisses were always passionate. His cherry pink lips danced across yours as you slowly began to sink into the kiss.

When it ended, you were left longing. Your eyes stayed closed for a moment too long and only fluttered open after you began to feel his breath against your damp lips. You wanted to say more, but you couldn't. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how you could begin a conversation over this.

“Could I at least know your name?” You asked him and you watched his face fall again.

He sighed and pretended to ignore your question, not even bothering to give it the time of day. And that was an answer enough.

Your sweetheart stayed for different amounts of time. Sometimes it was days, sometimes it was weeks, sometimes, it was just a few hours. He let you know when he was leaving, but never told you when he was coming back, and today was the same.

He left you home by giving you another passionate kiss on the lips and a promise to come back before you knew it. You watched the tassels on his hat sway in the wind as he just walked, his form growing farther and farther away until he was just a spec in the distance and then you were all alone again, contemplating what had just happened.

Time waited for no one, and you were included in that statement. When your purple haired sweetheart came to visit, you'd neglect your work as an apothecary to spend time with him. You supposed that's what he was to you. An escape from your mundane life. A mystery you'd never solve, but a passionate one nonetheless.

You gathered all the medicines you made to sell and walked towards the direction of the city. Liyue harbor was bustling, as it always was. Day or night, it was a city that seemed to never sleep. You loved to watch the vibrant way the people moved from your little house on a hilltop, far away from civilization.

It was truly a blessing and a curse. You did grow lonesome out in the mountains, but you had easier access to herbs and flora that normal people wouldn't be able to get their hands on. Plus…being in the city has a way of making your skin crawl.

There was this prickly feeling on the back of your neck that followed you as you walked through the streets and alleyways. A feeling of being watched, of eyes on you somewhere, but you didn't know where. There were people in every direction you turned, all with their own stories and their own lives, going their own way, none of them seemed to focus on you. And yet the feeling never left.

Although you walked alone, you found yourself picking up and listening to the conversations of those around you. Talks of trade and contracts interested you when you had no one to talk to.

But you also heard other whispers. Whispers of things like crime, loan sharks, and most specifically, the Fatui. By the archons above you, you promised to never get yourself involved in any business with the Northland bank. Owned an operated by the Fatui themselves, they gave out deals that seemed too good to be true, and that's because they were.

The harbinger over the bank was one that made you tremble in fear over just the thought of him. You'd never met him in person yourself, but you'd seen him parading through the streets. He has a face that would make girls swoon, but only the ones that didn't know his true intentions.

“The balladeer came through the city again recently,” you heard one lady speak in a hushed whisper.

“The one that wears the fancy hat?”

That's what made you stop in your tracks and you concentrated on that name: The Balladeer? It was one you'd never heard before. You couldn't help, but to stop at the corner, holding your baskest of medicinal herbs close to your chest as you eavesdropped on their conservative out of curiosity of the familiar description.

“Yeah, that's him! He just left a couple days ago,” you felt your heart began to pound a bit quicker now, your mouth going dry. Your sweetheart had left just a mere three days ago.

“Too bad he's Fatui,” she said with with a disheartened sigh, “His face is heavenly, even with that frown he's always wearing.” you could feel yourself gasping for air. It couldn't be him, could it?

But the things lined up, just a little too well. The balladeer left when your sweetheart did, he was also seen wear a fancy hat. The pretty face with the rude expression. It would explain so much.

The secrecy. Why he constantly would leave and travel across Teyvat. His aggression towards you knowing more about him, his lack of a name. All of the pieces of the puzzle clicked together and hit you like a ton of bricks.

You weren't dating some mysterious stranger. You weren't dating “sweetheart”. Your current boyfriend was the balladeer, a Fatui harbinger, and a dangerous one at that from the way the ladies talked about him in hushed whispers.

You bit your lip as you tried to hold back tears. How could you be so stupid? After everything was said, it all made sense and you realized, truly realized the danger you'd put yourself in.

Rushing home, you didn't even sell your medicine for the day. You couldn't bring yourself to stay in the city any longer. Not when you knew that there were Fatui, his subordinates around.

The door to your home was locked and shut tight. The once comforting walls felt like they were closing in on you. The home that you welcomed him to, you let him visit whenever he pleased, you allowed him in with open arms. In this very home, he was lying to you.

A month went by before you saw him again. A month before you heard the chimes, the song that was just for you. A month before you smelt the citrus in the air. All tell tale signs that he was here. He was at your door.

Usually you'd swing that for open and jump into his arms. You kiss him and hug him, you'd drag him into your home and smother him with the affection he pretended to hate. But all you could do was stay as far away from the door as possible, hudded in a corner, you pretended not to know that he was there.

It was gentle at first. The knocking sound. He rarely knocked before, you always knew he was there before he even had the chance to.

“Hey! Open up!” You heard him call, his voice muffled by the wood of the door. Those hurried words of his were followed by more knocking, this time, louder and harder.

“(Y/N)! Open the door!” More loud knocking, enough to shake the house, “Why aren't you answering?!”

You bit your lip to muffle your cries. He was out there. The fatui harbinger. The balladeer. Your sweetheart. He was out there, begging to be let in. It was him, you told yourself, it was your lover. So, why were you so afraid?

The banging turned to the pounding and the pounding made the wood of the door start to splinter. You had slid further back into the corner of your home, covering your mouth to quiet yourself as your tears wet your hand.

Kick after kick after kick, until the door was barely hanging on by the hinges. He could finally see you, through a crack in the door. His face was red with rage, but his eyes were wide with worry and concern.

“I told you to open the door!” He yelled at you, finally kicking away the last piece of wood that kept you from him. His chest was heaving, but he didn't make a move towards you. In his hand, he was holding a bouquet of flowers, so tightly that the paper was crumpled, “Why... why are you hiding from me?”

You didn't answer his question. Looking at the man before you now, it wasn't your sweetheart. It wasn't your lover. It wasn't who you'd come to truly care for after these months. He really was the Balladeer.

You watch his face twist and contort with a mix of emotions. A scowl, a frown, a grimace. Fear and anger flicker across his face so quickly, it's like a blur. But then it settles. It all settles. A single tear down his cheek is the only sign left of sweetheart before his face turns to that neutral expression. That frown that didn't suit his heavenly features.

The flowers were dropped to the ground, wilted and forgotten, and he stepped closer to you, over what remnants of a door you had.

“You know?” He asked in pure disbelief, a pain in his eyes that you couldn't even describe, “You found out?”

Your trembling form wasn't enough to sway him. He was used to being looked at this way by others, but by you, it did hurt a bit more.

“Why didn't you tell me?” you whimpered between sobs. Your pathetic display obviously wasn't enough to melt his frozen heart. He merely kneeled in front of you, unaffected by the way you slinked away from him in fear of what he as a harbinger could do.

“Because I knew you would look at me like this,”

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Epilogue

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: Eighteen months after you and Colt have declared your love for each other, there's just one thing that could make life better — actually getting to spend time together.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.5k

Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word (sending directly to the rest because Tumblr isn't cooperating)

Author’s Note: You know I couldn't resist a little epilogue for these two :D I hope this brings you all as much joy as this series has brought me, and I appreciate each and every one of you who has taken the time to read and/or respond to this story. Thank you :)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. The steps leading up to the apartment have never seemed so long, and Colt honestly can’t clear them fast enough so he can get home to you.

Home. What a word. What a feeling. Colt Seavers has had a home before, but home has never felt so warm, so kind, so welcoming as the one he shares with you. And his soul is at home wherever you are.

It’s been eighteen months since he confessed his love for you on the airport greenway, eighteen months since the two of you started a relationship that has weathered all sorts of trials. Lengthy separations, serious injuries, art-related frustrations, meddling outsiders — sometimes it seems like the whole world has conspired against the two of you.

And still, you are his. You choose to be his every day. Your love has never wavered, and his love for you has only grown stronger as you’ve shown him what it means to be beloved.

Colt still smiles to remember the night he proposed. The two of you had barely been officially dating for four months when he couldn’t stand it another minute and asked you to marry him. You were slightly less impulsive about the idea — you took a full two seconds to agree and ask how soon you could get married. Neither of you had ever been more sure about anything than knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together.

Marriage hasn’t been easy all the time. Colt’s work takes him all over the world, and yours keeps you busy 24/7. Sometimes weeks will go by without you getting to spend time together, and sometimes the moments you can steal are spent simply falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. You and Colt have learned to treasure every second you get to spend together, hoping that one day, you’ll have all the time in the world to enjoy each other’s company. Colt feels a flutter of excitement knowing that time may come sooner than you think.

For now, though, both of you have a full two weeks off from your different jobs. Colt’s latest movie finished filming yesterday, and you’ve been done with your latest Broadway set design job for three days. Colt has been on a plane for the last fourteen hours and is bone-weary, but all he can think about right now is getting through that door and seeing your smile.

Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two. Colt hits the top of the steps, and the hallway is flooded with soft golden light as you fling the door open, clearing the distance between you in half a second and throwing yourself into his arms with a beaming smile that makes his heart feel like it will burst with joy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two hours later, the two of you are snuggled together under a blanket on your couch, listening to the gentle night rain outside. You’re both thoroughly worn out — you had three weeks’ worth of catching up to do — and now you’ve both settled in for the simple pleasure of basking in each other’s presence.

You sometimes catch yourself wondering if this could all be a dream. Is it possible that you could actually be married to Colt Seavers, world’s greatest stuntman and the kindest, most dedicated man you’ve ever met? The way he showers you with his attention, the way he is so intentional about demonstrating his love for you, all his unconventional ways of letting you know he’s thinking about you even when you’re hundreds of miles apart… sometimes, it feels too good to be true.

The past three weeks haven’t been easy. You always miss Colt when you’re both far from home on jobs, but this past separation has seemed to last an eternity. Every night, you fell asleep longing to be with him, and every phone call, every text message seemed so inadequate to express how much you missed him. You’ve found yourself craving a time when the two of you will be able to spend every evening this way, wrapped in each other’s arms and unworried about anything else in the world.

Like this moment. He’s almost asleep, his cheek resting against the top of your head while you’re curled up in his arms. In these quiet moments, listening to his steady heartbeat and enjoying the abundant amount of heat he manages to give off at all times, you’re tempted to wonder how any life could be this sweet.

The two of you have been good for each other in more ways than one. With you in his life, Colt has started showing more caution in the stunts he performs. He’s still the same fearless daredevil he’s always been, but now he takes a few extra minutes to make doubly sure he’s safe when he leaps off a building or dives straight into a pool of dark water. It’s amazing how a person starts caring about themselves a little more when they know someone else cares for them.

Colt isn’t the only one changed, either. Before, you never thought twice about staying awake for three days straight to finish an elaborate set piece, or going without meals for a full day, or obsessing over a job almost to the point of a nervous breakdown. Colt has made it his mission in life to check on you throughout the day and make sure you’re taking care of yourself, and somehow you’ve made it a habit, too.

With your head tucked under his chin, you feel Colt stir slightly out of his sleep. You start to shift away to give him more room to stretch out, but he just wraps his arms around you tighter and smiles down at you.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

Your heart swells with gratitude at his simple ways of saying I love you. “I missed you, too,” you reply, reaching up a hand to thread through his hair. He sighs and closes his eyes at your touch.

“So, what are we going to do with our two weeks off?”

You hum in answer to his question, pretending to think it over. “Actually, I was thinking about just getting a ton of work done in advance,” you tease him, grinning at the way his face warms into a smile. “Just locking myself in my studio, working all hours of the night…”

“That’s fine,” Colt tells you mildly, reaching one hand up to stroke down your arm. “I was actually planning to work, too. Your car is seriously lacking in scratches and dents. I thought I might borrow it to practice for a car chase through the neighborhood.”

You lean forward to press a kiss against his shoulder. “While you’re doing that, I could repaint your truck with some psychedelic decals.”

“I could also work on smashing through windows in the living room.”

“At least put down a tarp first,” you instruct him, your kisses gradually working up his shoulder to his neck.

Colt grins and tilts your head up with his fingertips. Your lips meet in a sweet, unhurried kiss that makes shivers travel the length of your spine. Even after all the kisses you’ve shared, the feeling never grows old for you. His lips are soft, gentle against yours, his arms holding you close to his chest.

“I don’t care what we do,” Colt whispers against your cheek. “As long as we have the chance to do this anytime we want to.”

You smile and nod in agreement, relaxing into his arms and letting your head fall onto his shoulder. The rain continues to fall steadily outside, the soft lamplight cascading through the windows and casting a golden shade over Colt’s skin. The contentment and warmth of this moment envelopes you, but something still tugs at the back of your mind.

“How long do you think this will last?” you ask softly, wondering if Colt is still awake to hear you. “Being apart so often for so long?”

Colt senses the hesitation in your voice and lifts his head to look down into your eyes. “Does it bother you?” he asks. You’re touched by how serious he sounds.

“Not terribly,” you answer honestly, not wanting to sound as forlorn as you’ve felt the last few weeks. “It’s hard sometimes, but it makes catching up even more fun.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Colt smiles. He doesn’t ignore your question, though, and he pushes himself up so he’s sitting up straight beside you, tugging you over so you can sit up on your knees and face him. He takes both your hands in his. “I don’t know how much longer,” he tells you. “Are you trying to say you’re ready for a change?”

“Not necessarily,” you say carefully, caught off guard by how serious he suddenly seems. “I don’t think either of us is ready for that. But to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately. Being able to see you every day, both of us coming back to the same place every night…” You hear the wistful note in your voice and try to curb it, not wanting Colt to feel any pressure from you.

But he finishes your sentence for you. “...spending evenings together like this instead of with a goodnight text across the country.”

You nod, realizing that Colt has been feeling exactly what you’ve been feeling. “No matter how much I love designing sets, I get so tired of sleeping in hotels and only seeing you on video calls.”

“I know,” he says, reaching up to comb some stray hairs behind your ear. “Me, too. I thought about it more this last trip than ever before.”

You beam a relieved smile at him, suddenly feeling like you’ve released a huge burden just by sharing your feelings with him and knowing he's been going through the same thing. “Maybe we should start thinking about a new arrangement,” you reply softly.

“Are you suggesting divorce?”

You laugh out loud at his serious tone, and Colt laughs with you as he pulls you into a hug. “You are so ridiculous,” you say through a grin. You give him a peck on the cheek, thinking the conversation is over now that you’ve gotten that worry off your chest, but Colt surprises you by disentangling from your arms and launching into another serious tone.

“What do you say to this,” Colt proposes. “One more job each, and then we think about going into business together?”

You sit bolt upright at that. “Going into business together?” you echo in surprise. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“What, you’ve never heard of married people going into business together?”

This is almost too much to process. “Colt, you’re a stuntman,” you remind him. “I’m a set designer. Those aren’t exactly compatible professions.”

“They could be very compatible if we started a joint venture as movie consultants,” he insists. His eyes are beaming with pride, and suddenly you realize that this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment suggestion from him. “That way, any company that hired us would put us on the same jobs, and we could each do our separate thing on the same sets. I could be a stunt consultant, and you’d be an art consultant. We could expand it as we needed to.”

Colt’s grin is infectious, and you impulsively reach out to frame his face in your hands. “Am I crazy, or does it sound like you’ve put some thought into this?” you ask in disbelief.

“I already told you, I missed you,” Colt shrugs. He takes your hands in his, then flips one over to kiss the inside of your wrist. But you’re not finished asking questions.

“What do you mean, ‘stunt consultant’? That sounds dangerously like you’re thinking about a career shift.”

“Not necessarily,” he continues, using his fingertips to trace the inside of your wrist now. “It’s more of a way I could pick the jobs I want instead of being Tom Ryder’s faithful shadow. Plus, I’d have the chance for more of a stunt coordinator job one day.”

You’re amazed at how much thought he has put into this idea, as well as how it so perfectly solves the problems you’ve been wrestling with for the last three weeks. “I thought you weren’t interested in climbing the ladder,” you counter with a smile.

“I never have been,” Colt admits, still swirling his fingertips over your inner forearm. “But if it means I have to be away from you all the time, I’m willing to take a little leap.”

“How long have you been thinking about all this?”

“Not long. I ran into Dan Tucker on this last set. He gave me the idea for the joint venture.”

“Remind me to send Dan a bouquet of flowers.”

Colt grins wide at that, and he leans forward to close the distance between you, pressing a gentle kiss into the corner of your mouth. “Does that mean you’re interested?” he murmurs.

“I might be,” you say, feeling your heartbeat speed up. “If I think I’d be compatible with my future business partner.”

“I can arrange for some compatibility exercises.”

You smile at his response, sliding your arms around his neck as he moves to pull you into his embrace again. “Will there be a fee for training?”

“No charge,” Colt mumbles against your jaw.

“Good benefits?”

“Lots and lots of benefits.” His lips are moving down to do something wicked to the skin of your neck, but you pause him briefly by lifting his head up to meet his gaze. His dark blue eyes are focused on you with the intensity that melts you every time you see it.

“Let’s do it,” you declare, hardly daring to believe that this perfect idea could become a reality. “I don’t know how, but let’s make it happen.”

Colt gives you a smile that seems to brighten the entire room. “You got it, da Vinci.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Believe me, it’s good to be home.”

Colt demonstrates his statement by pulling you into his arms and dipping you back so you’re laying across his lap. You laugh and pull him down to your level, resting one hand on the back of his neck while he kisses you. His kiss is gentle, almost mischievous somehow, as if he’s already planning his next move to surprise you.

“I suggest a two-week vacation right here,” you say breathlessly when he finally lifts his lips off yours. He kisses the tip of your nose as you continue, “I don’t care if we don’t do a single thing, as long as we’re together for all of it.”

“Mmmm, now you’re talking,” he tells you in the husky voice that always sends goosebumps over your skin. Another kiss, this one on your forehead. “But I bet we can think of lots of things to do.”

“You think?” you ask slyly, and your smirk prompts Colt to gather you up in his arms and stand, an impressive show of strength even from him. Your grin widens, and you capture his lips in a kiss that leaves you both heated and flushed. This is worth all of it, you think. All the lonely nights, all the uncertainty — it all fades in the heat of his gaze, this man you love with every fiber of your being.

“Definitely,” Colt replies against your lips, and you can feel his smile even through the words. “In fact, if we’re going into business together so soon, we’d better get started on those compatibility exercises right away.”

[gvfgal]

How to Fall in Love in Ten Days

*18+ series, minors dni.

A/n: I’ll skip the chit chat and let you guys get straight to it, I’m sure some of you have been looking forward to this 👀 Leave questions, comment, & concerns wherever you see fit, and as always, enjoy 🤍

Content Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of illness and death, graphic sexual content, loss of virg!nity (not graphic), fingering (f!rec), breeding (mild).

Word Count: 8.2k

Day Seven: The Rain

The thunderstorm had settled over Sterling House the next day, casting a somber gloom through the hallways with its dark, brooding clouds. Yet, the Duke’s spirits seemed unaffected by the melancholic weather. With a buoyant grin, Daniel waltzed into the breakfast parlor, expecting to see you there. However, he was met only with the sight of his staff, who were silently bustling about the room in preparation for breakfast. The fat droplets of rain hitting the windowpanes were the only sounds accompanying them.

Daniel frowned and turned to Roslyn, who was busy setting polished silverware on the table. “She is in the drawing room,” she spoke without hardly turning to look at him, lest she risk showing him the smirk that was set on her face.

With a nod, Daniel excused himself and made his way to the drawing room. There, he found you sitting by the window, gazing out at the sunless landscape with a slight pout etched into your features. He found it endearing.

“Good morning,” he announced softly from the threshold. You cast a somber glance at him before returning your gaze to the rain.

“It is raining,” you said with a huff.

Daniel chuckled, walking slowly towards you. “Indeed, it is.”

“I wanted to take the horses out today,” you lamented, standing as he neared, struggling with the urge to seek comfort in his touch, “but we cannot because it is raining.”

Thunder rumbled as Daniel admired your beauty, even when you were sulking you mesmerized him. “I’m sorry, Your Grace,” he apologized sincerely. “If I could part the clouds and summon the sun to shine solely for you, I would do so without question. But since I can do no such thing, I assure you there is plenty for us to do here in Sterling House to occupy our time.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not quite satisfied. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters,” Daniel suggested amusedly, “why don’t we have breakfast here in the drawing room instead? A change of scenery might do us some good. I can have the servants prepare the room for us.”

“And then what?” you asked, still not convinced.

“And then,” Daniel chuckled, taking hold of your hand, “I will show you just how wonderful life can be here at Sterling House. All of these rooms, they aren’t just for show, though I’m sure it appears that way. There is plenty to do here,” he stepped closer, “and I will show you.”

His effort was apparent. He could’ve easily closed himself up in his office with the weather as an excuse, but he wanted to spend the day by your side, doing whatever he could to brighten your mood and bask in your presence a bit longer.

“Breakfast in the drawing room it is, then,” you agreed, smiling up at him.

Daniel summoned the servants to prepare the drawing room for breakfast, and the two of you settled by the window as the gentle patter of raindrops created a soothing backdrop for your morning. Amidst the cozy setting, laughter and light-hearted banter flowed freely between you, a sense of warmth and belonging enveloping the room. Both of you felt truly at home together, finding solace and joy in each other's company.

Once breakfast was concluded, Daniel led you through the grand hallways to the art gallery. The long corridor was adorned with exquisite portraits and landscapes, ones you weren’t interested in when Roslyn showed them to you, but now they held a different type of allure now that Daniel was the one accompanying you. As you strolled leisurely, pausing at each masterpiece, you engaged in lively discussions about their histories and the emotions they evoked. Daniel’s hand frequently brushed against yours as he pointed out intricate details, each fleeting touch sending a delightful warmth through you.

After some time, Daniel guided you back to the drawing room, over to a small table set up with a chessboard. “Do you play?” he inquired, a playful glint in his eye.

“I must admit, I have never been taught,” you confessed.

“Then today is the perfect day to learn,” he declared, pulling out a chair for you.

The next couple hours were spent in earnest instruction. It was obvious Daniel enjoyed this teaching moment. His patience was evident as he explained each move and strategy, his proximity intoxicating, his voice a soothing balm as you concentrated on the game. You ended up not performing too well, as you struggled to focus, distracted by his nearness, but the intimate exchange seemed to deepen your connection even more.

When the rain showed no sign of relenting, Daniel suggested lunch in the conservatory. The clear ceiling allowed you to watch the raindrops dance above you as you dined, the sound creating a gentle symphony, a cocoon of tranquility that enveloped you both.

After lunch, Daniel led you to the library. You settled into plush chairs side by side, a selection of books between you. Hours slipped away as you read in companionable silence, the flickering fire casting a warm glow around the room. You took a break from your reading for tea, conveniently brought to the library by one of the servants. It felt wonderfully domestic, a glimpse into a future where you might spend your days lost in each other’s company, content in the quiet comfort of shared space. The constant thunder outside became a mere backdrop, overshadowed by the contentment of being by each other’s side.

As evening descended, dinner was a relaxed affair, the continuous rain providing a soothing accompaniment. Once the meal had concluded, Daniel whisked you away to the music room, a place you hadn’t entered since your second day at Sterling House.

You lingered by the door as Daniel stepped inside, your eyes inevitably drawn to the grand piano that always commanded your attention.

“Roslyn told me that you played,” Daniel said softly, gesturing towards the instrument. A flush of embarrassment washed over you.

“Oh, I used to.”

“You don’t anymore?” He watched you closely, his gaze intent.

“I haven’t in a while.”

Daniel paused, then his voice rang out, almost pleading, “Would you? For me?”

His words, so tender and earnest, sent your heart racing. Eager to please him in a way you never had been before, you nervously approached the piano. Daniel settled into a nearby chair, his eyes following your every movement as you removed the cover from the keys and ran your fingers along them.

“Is there anything you’d like to hear?” you asked meekly.

The Duke grinned sincerely. “Whatever is on your heart.”

Turning away from him to gather your courage, you recalled the songs you had memorized over the years. You finally decided on one you knew well, confident you wouldn’t falter and embarrass yourself.

Straightening in your seat, your fingers hovered over the keys before the melody began pouring into the room.

Daniel closed his eyes, the sound of the music mingling with the storm outside, creating the most soothing harmony he had heard in a long time. But as the familiar melody filled the air, his eyes shot back open in astonishment.

He recognized the tune immediately; it was his mother’s favorite. Memories of her playing that very song on this piano flooded back— his father completely enraptured by her playing, similar to the way Daniel was now.

He had not heard it since her funeral, and seeing you play it, so lost in the moment, stirred something deep within him. The Duke was motionless, staring at you in disbelief, wondering how, out of all the songs you could have chosen, you had selected that one. He had never shared that part of his life with you, and the coincidence seemed like a sign if ever there was one.

As you concluded the song, you turned to face Daniel sheepishly, his bewildered stare and stark silence making you grow nervous once again.

“I suppose I am a bit rusty,” you chuckled nervously.

“No,” Daniel insisted, snapping out of his trance, “no. That was beautiful. It is just… the song,” he stood and crossed over to you, sitting beside you on the bench, “it was my mother’s favorite. She used to play it all the time. I haven’t heard it since her funeral.”

You were surprised at this revelation, but there was a look on Daniel’s face, almost one of sadness, that you couldn’t help but want to dissect.

“How did she pass?” The question escaped before you could think twice about it. The Duke turned to face you, not expecting for you to ask him that question, but suddenly very willing to let you in.

“My mother was a beacon of light in our household,” Daniel began after taking a moment to gather his thoughts, his voice filled with a soft reverence. “She was beautiful, not just in appearance, but in spirit. Her kindness seemed boundless, and she was loved by everyone who knew her. My father…” His voice grew wistful, as if he were sifting through cherished memories. “My father worshipped the very ground she walked on. Their love was something out of a fairy tale, so profound and unwavering. I remember watching them together, observing how their bond was so unbreakable.”

Daniel’s face shifted, and he swallowed hard. You reached out, placing your hand over his, offering silent support. “When I was eleven, everything changed. My mother was struck by a mysterious illness that slowly sapped her strength and confined her to bed. My father, once a diligent and dutiful Duke, became consumed by the quest to find a cure for her. He spent every waking moment searching, refusing to let anyone else care for her. It was as if his love alone could will her back to health.”

“Then came the day he heard of a doctor in India who might hold the key to her recovery. Despite her grave condition, he set sail, determined to save her. I still remember the look in his eyes – the desperation. He did not want to leave her, but he left everything behind, risking all for the chance to bring her back.”

Thunder crashed outside, heightening the intensity of the moment. You dared not move, caught in the raw emotion of his story.

“But fate is a cruel mistress,” Daniel scoffed bitterly. “My mother passed away two weeks after he left, her body finally succumbing to the illness. Sometimes I wonder if she waited until he was no longer there to finally slip away, perhaps to spare him from seeing her in that state. And almost as if the heavens themselves conspired to keep them together, a storm capsized my father’s ship just hours after her death. He never made it back. I believe it was destiny’s way of ensuring they would never have to be apart. News of his tragic end overshadowed her passing. And I… I hardly had time to grieve the revelation of being an orphan before I was thrust into my duties.”

Your heart ached for your husband. Hearing his story brought a new perspective, a breakthrough you had hoped for. You couldn’t fathom the despair a young Daniel must have felt. In his position, you too might have been hardened by such tragic events.

Daniel wasn’t finished. The telling of his story seemed to unburden him, and you were the perfect, attentive audience. He’d never felt so comfortable speaking of these things aloud, and the relief was palpable.

“My father’s love for her was so profound, so all-consuming, that it ultimately cost him his life,” he sounded astonished at this. “For a long time, I was angry at him for this. I thought any man who would abandon his duty for love was foolish. Our people suffered greatly after his death. It took years of hard work on my part to restore what had been lost, which is why my people’s trust in me is so strong.”

“But now, I’m beginning to see things differently,” he confessed. “In a way, his death was the ultimate sacrifice, a testament to his devotion, and perhaps that’s the most noble thing a man can do.” Your words rang out in his head: ‘you pride yourself on being a dutiful man, yet you forsake the greatest duty of all.’

“As much as it pained me, I can’t help but see the purity in that sacrifice. It was a love so strong, it defied even death.”

As he gazed out the window, speaking his last words, a realization struck him—a realization so overwhelming it filled him with a mix of fear and wonder.

When he looked back at you, your face was etched with a profound emotion, an emotion he had longed to see. The way you held his hand firmly in yours as he poured out his most closely held feelings, unwavering, gave him a sense of clarity he had not felt before. In that moment, he understood the depth of his feelings for you, feelings that mirrored the love his father had for his mother, and it both frightened and enlivened him.

Daniel slowly withdrew his hand from yours, standing from the bench beside you. The sudden loss of his touch left you feeling bereft, and your eyes found his, filled with a gentle apology. Perhaps you shouldn’t have reopened such a painful wound, fearing he now regretted divulging so much. But you had no idea of the tumult of thoughts overwhelming him.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” he apologized, attempting to compose himself. His voice wavered slightly, betraying his nerves. “It is getting late. I believe I shall retire to bed.”

Checkmate. He had mirrored the very move you’d made on him just a few days prior. Understanding the need for reprieve all too well, you chose not to protest his wishes.

“Of course,” you said, closing the lid of the piano keys and rising gracefully. You smoothed out your dress, casting a fleeting glance at the clock in the corner, though you didn’t bother to actually read the time. It was merely a distraction to keep yourself from staring at him.

The Duke, however, seemed unashamed to gaze at you. Though he had suggested ending the night, he made no move to tear his eyes from your form. His stare was intense, a longing restraint evident in his orbs.

A flash of lightning outside finally pulled Daniel from his reverie. He bowed to you swiftly, almost reluctantly. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, your voice tinged with unspoken emotions.

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the evening’s revelations pressing down on both of you. The storm outside raged on, mirroring the tempest within your hearts. Daniel paused at the door, glancing back at you one last time. His eyes held a promise, a silent vow that this conversation was far from over.

With a final nod, he left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts and the echo of his words. You stood there, the room suddenly feeling too vast and empty, the memory of his touch lingering like a ghost. The night had revealed so much, yet left even more unsaid, and you knew that this was only the beginning of a journey that neither of you could predict.

The storm outside was relentless, each crack of thunder echoing through the dark halls of Sterling House. You tossed and turned in bed, your thoughts a tumultuous mix of your conversation with Daniel and the profound emotions it had stirred within you. Unable to find solace, you slipped out of bed and into your house slippers, making your way to the library to seek refuge among the comforting presence of its books, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

There was a more pressing reason that led you to the library, spurred by Roslyn's casual remark from a few days prior:

"...there are nights when I notice light seeping from beneath the door, late into the evening..."

This recollection lingered in your mind, filling you with hope that tonight might be one of those very nights. With a curious anticipation, you ventured towards the library, harboring a quiet certainty that you might find him there, cloistered away amidst the books and shadows.

And sure enough, as you pushed open the heavy door, there he was, standing by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning and the fire that roared ferociously in the fireplace. He turned at the sound of your entrance, as if he’d already been expecting your arrival, yet you couldn’t tell if he was happy or aggrieved with seeing you.

“You could not sleep?” he asked, his voice soft yet resonant over the patter of rain.

“The storm is keeping me up,” you replied, though you knew it was not the storm but the storm of emotions within you that left you restless. You had a feeling he was awake for the same reason. When he did not respond, you felt a pang of guilt and added, “I am sorry if I upset you by bringing up your mother earlier.”

Daniel shook his head slowly, his eyes mirroring the turmoil of the storm outside. "No, you did not upset me. It’s just..."

"Just what?" you prompted gently, stepping closer, your voice soft but insistent. The weight of unspoken words hung in the air between you, and you felt a deep need to bridge the gap. "I am your wife," you continued, your voice wavering slightly, "you— you can confide in me." The assertion of your role seemed to anchor him, giving him the fortitude he needed.

"Tell me, Your Grace," you implored, your voice steady now. "What is on your mind?"

He turned fully to face you, his eyes holding a fierce intensity that sent your heart racing. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to gather the courage to unveil his thoughts. You stood there, breathless, waiting for the Duke to share what had drawn you to him this night, hopeful for a glimpse into the depths of his guarded heart.

Daniel began to pace, his movements restless, a stark contrast to the usual composed demeanor he wore like armor. His hands raked through his tousled hair, his eyes wild with the turmoil of emotions that had been festering within him.

“Since the day I lost my mother,” he began, his voice raw with emotion, “I have locked away a part of myself, terrified of opening my heart, dreading the inevitable pain of loss.” He stopped suddenly, turning to look at you, his eyes pleading for understanding. “My father’s unwavering devotion to my mother, his sacrifice, his journey to the ends of the earth for a remedy—it always seemed like an unattainable ideal, a love so profound it bordered on madness.”

He took several steps towards you, emerging from the shadows until he stood but a few paces away. The raw emotion etched into his face was now plainly visible, sending heat coursing through your body.

“Yet, standing here now, looking at you, I realize I would do the same for you without hesitation. That realization frightens me, for I have spent my life fleeing from the shadow of my father,” he declared, his voice rising in fervor, though not in a manner that frightened you. His passion commanded your attention; it would be folly to focus elsewhere.

“He was so blinded by love that he became a martyr to it, abandoning his duty for the sake of his heart. But, Your Grace,” he paused, his voice breaking slightly, “when it comes to you, that would be my greatest honor.”

He stepped closer still, and you moved forward in kind, feeling the electric pull drawing you nearer.

“I know I have been distant, even cruel at times,” he continued, “I shut you out, not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of the power I knew you would wield over me, the way you have inevitably woven yourself into the very fabric of my being.” He was pleading now, “You have become my every waking thought, my every hope and dream. It is futile to deny how much I need you any longer. I find myself yearning for your presence at every waking moment of the day, craving your touch, needing your nearness like the air I breathe. You have awakened a part of me I thought long dead, a part that yearns for a future wherein your company is ever present.”

Daniel’s gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark with the intensity of his confession. “At first, I thought it was mere lust, but my realization tonight proved that my need for you far surpasses the physical.” His eyes raked over your body as he spoke, making it clear that desire still lingered heavily in his mind.

He let out a shaky breath, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Finally, he closed the remaining distance between you, taking both of your hands in his and pulling them close to his chest. “I know it sounds mad, perhaps even reckless, but I believe I am falling in love with you. My heart, my soul—they want to be yours entirely, and the thought of living without you is a fate I do not think I can bear. I know that now.”

Daniel’s voice trembled as he finished, his vulnerability laid bare. “So, forgive me if I seem distant or frightened, for it is not you that I fear, but the magnitude of what I feel. It is fear and pure desperation. I cannot conceal this any longer lest I go mad. I need you, wholly, desperately, and urgently.”

He looked at you, the realization of his own words crashing over him like a tidal wave. This was it—the final wall he had built around himself had finally come crashing down. His heart was now on his sleeve, bleeding openly. It was up to you to decide what the next move would be.

You were breathing erratically, staring into his passion-filled eyes as you tried to find the words to respond.

“I too have been afraid, Your Grace,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the storm. “Afraid of my feelings, afraid of opening my heart to someone who seemed so distant,” you shook your head as you held him close, feeling as if that were the most foolish thing ever, “but from the moment I arrived here, I have felt something profound, something I could not put into words. All I ever wanted was to know you, to understand you, so that I could love you in the way you needed me to. I wanted immediately to be able to do that for you, I could not explain it. But you had been a mystery, a man of shadows and silences, and yet, you still captivated my every thought.”

“I tried fighting it the way you have, but with every moment I spend near you, even the ones when we aren’t at our best, I find myself wanting more. And every glance, every touch, every shared moment has only deepened my affection for you.”

You took a deep breath, knowing you wouldn’t be able to take back your next words, but nodding to confirm their truth. “I believe I am falling in love with you too, at least I think this is what falling in love feels like.” Leaning forward, your next words were spoken in a breathy whisper, “I am aware that my need for your surpasses the physical,” your eyes fell to his supple lips, “but if I may be honest, in this moment that need seems to occupy much of my being.”

Your voice had gone sultry against your own will, the feeling of being held against his solid body rapidly causing you to lose restraint. His putting his heart on the line as he had tonight had broken the last barrier you had up, and now you were ready to yield to him.

Daniel’s eyes darkened still with carnality at your confession, and though declarations of possible love were in the air, he was willing to set them aside in order to satisfy the agonizing desire he too was harboring.

Your admissions were laid bare, a foundation for future discourse. Yet this moment, so perfectly poised and tantalizingly intimate, demanded to be seized.

"So, Your Grace," you continued, your voice a soft command as you gently brushed your nose against his, "now that we have dispensed with those confessions, will you please kiss me again?"

Your tone, though gentle, held an assertive authority. It was not a mere request but a fervent demand, one you could no longer restrain. The Duke, captivated by your boldness, found himself unable to resist.

His hands snaked up to cup your face, closing any more space that might have been between you. Your eyes, round and pleading peered up into his fiery ones, begging him without a word to heed your request.

“As you wish,” he finally whispered into your mouth before his lips came crashing in.

Your knees buckled on impact, and you grasped firmly at the loose fabric of his shirt, sure to leave wrinkles in your wake.

The kiss was hot and heavy, similar to the one in the office the day before, only this time neither of you dared to stop yourselves. Daniel backed you into one of the towering bookshelves, a few of its titles falling to the floor at your feet with a clamber.

The Duke’s frantic kisses traveled lower, down your neck to your collarbone, seemingly his favorite place on your body. When his hands left your face and found their way to your chest, kneading your breasts over your nightgown in the palms of his large hands, you mewled loudly. He grinned wickedly into the kiss at you arched your back, seeking out more of his touch.

His slender fingers then became occupied with your gown’s ruffled straps, teasingly pulling them down your shoulders then up again once more, his eyes drowning in a tempest of his own desire.

“Take it off for me, would you, darling?” he hummed the question into your ear, “I’d like to see all of my bride.”

He gave your swollen lips one more firm kiss before he stepped away, allowing you to undress yourself as he’d requested.

Eager to please him once more, and shameless in your submission, you tugged at the straps of your nightgown, pulling it down off your goosebump riddled shoulders and letting it slide past your torso to your waist. Bashfulness had no place in that room any longer; there was no more hiding from one another.

Daniel’s gaze was all consuming as he beheld you, noticing the way your nipples harder in the exposure of the room. “Even better than I’ve imagined,” he muttered with a satisfied grin, then his head ticked upwards, “keep going.”

As you began tugging your dress down your legs, Daniel pulled his shirt over his head, discarding of it on the floor. Now only in your undergarments, there was only little that Daniel’s covetous eyes couldn’t see. Desperate for your touch again he reached a hand out to you, pulling you closer to where he was standing by the warmth of the fireplace.

He turned you towards the flames, pressing his chest against your back and you gasped at the sensation. Not only had you felt the gratifying sensation on his bare skin against your own, but another part of him, rock solid and pulsating pressed against the supple flesh of your rear. Never have you felt so much of him at once, and as you’d said earlier, every bit you got had you wanting more and more.

His hands began massaging your chest again, this time without anything obstructing him. It wasn’t missed upon him how much you enjoyed the touch earlier, and he wanted greatly to give you that bliss again. He wondered if you knew that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the pleasure he could bring to you.

“Daniel,” you purred out as his head dropped to suck hot kisses along your neck, his fingers rolling at your peaked nubs. It was so rare you called him by his name, and the Duke weakened at the sound of it leaving your lips. So saccharine and wanton, it increased the Duke’s urgency to unravel you more.

He spun you around dropped to his knees before you, his long digits toying with the hem of your under garments, gazing up at you in silent questioning. When you nodded, he began slowly removing them, agonizingly slow, making sure to leave a trail of his fiery touch down your legs as he did so.

You stepped out of them, feeling at last completely exposed, but you hardly had the chance to overthink it before his lips were on your skin once more.

“Say my name again,” his voice was muffled as he pressed impassioned kisses into the flesh of your thighs, “I love the way it sounds coming from your lips.”

You daydreamed often about being in this position, but never in a million years did you think it would feel this good. There were desires shooting up within you that you never knew existed, and you were sailing head first into to seeking them out.

Your hands found his hair, fingers twisting into his locks in a way that pulled a fervent groan up out of his diaphragm. His breath fanned against your heat, and your body began to tingle.

“Daniel,” you sighed again, your hands beginning to grip at him more urgently, “I need more of you.” You were begging now, and you weren’t ashamed.

The Duke rose to his feet, ushering you over to the love seat positioned across from the fire place. Exposed as you were, the frigid air in the room had you seeking shelter under the throw blanket that lay across the back of the sofa. You curled it up to your chin as you settled against the smooth upholstery, watching in awe as Daniel stood before you, the contour of his strong body illuminated by the flames behind him. A flash of lightning lit the room further, highlighting briefly the serious and concerned looked etched into his face. He observed you silently for several grueling moments, watching the way you lay panting and waiting for him. It felt almost too good to be true.

Finally, he stepped away from the couch, his hand finding the button of his pants, his eyes never wavering from you.

You tried your best to hold his gaze, but your eyes couldn’t seem to want to watch the Duke’s every move, eager for him to reveal the most intimate parts of himself to you. He was moving slower than necessary, but there was something about it that only served to make you grow hotter.

“Before we continue,” he rasped, calling your attention back to his face, “I need to hear you say that you want this.”

You smirked, glad for a chance to break the tension in the room, “a prideful man even in moments like these?”

He smiled warmly at you, unperturbed by your teasing.

“It is not for the sake of my ego,” he assured, his earnest returning, “I just want you to be sure you are truly ready to give yourself over to me fully,” he stepped out of one pant leg, “ready to make this commitment to our relationship,” then the other.

This reservation was a valid one. After this, your marriage would be sealed; fully binding in the eyes of the law and the church. Before, you had the chance of backing out of the marriage, though it was highly frowned upon, and you were glad you’d hung tight. But now, if things were to continue in the direction they were heading, that choice would no longer be. No matter how things progressed or digressed after this, your chances of escaping were ill to none.

Your eyes fell to Daniel’s lower half again, catching sight of the way he tried to conceal his erection from you, trying to hide how desperately he wanted to continue despite him giving you the option to stop. His efforts proved futile, however. You could clearly see the way he was pressed against his briefs, thick and rock solid, his entire being humming in anticipation. It’d almost be cruel to deny him in the state he was in.

You swallowed nervously, squirming in your place, “I am ready, your Grace.” The formalities were back for whatever reason. You blamed the butterflies that stirred within your stomach.

Daniel nodded in return, and at last, he removed his briefs from his body. His members sprung from beneath them, its tip hitting his abdomen and leaving a tiny glimmer of arousal in the patch of hair below his belly button.

Your orbs dilated at the sight of him in all his royal glory a soft gasp escaping your mouth, but he doesn’t leave you gaping for long. He made his way back over to you, slipping underneath the throw and crowding your space like never before. It was an overwhelming amount of sensations; his dark curls sweeping across your face, his erection hovering so close to your pulsating heat, his heavy breathing floating across your chest, his devilishly captivating eyes. The Duke lifts your chin so that you are gazing right into them, being reeled in further and further.

“I promise to be gentle,” he murmured sincerely, speaking in a way that eased any apprehension you may have been harboring. He could see it written on your face, but in the twinkle of your eye, he could see that desire was immense.

“And to take my time with this delicate little flower,” Daniel’s nimble fingers find your folds without having to tear his eyes from your face, collecting the slick that clung to them. A lazed smile finds his face when you gasped loudly, and he probed gently until he was hovering over your entrance. You fought against squirming your hips to seek out his touch, not wanting to come off as needy so soon. But it was growing more and more difficult with each passing second, because you were, in fact, needy. Desperate, better yet. The Duke leaned in close to your ear, his next words spoken in an authoritative husk, “and when you want more, you tell me you want more.”

After that, you could wait no longer, and luckily, Daniel did not make you. Once the words passed his lips, the finger hovering near your entrance dipped inside. Your body jolted, it was a brief moment of unfamiliarity before you were able to adjust to what you were feeling, and it was quite pleasant. But after a few strokes, you knew it wasn’t quite enough.

His eyes were back on your face, watching and gaging your reaction, trying not to show how much the moment was affecting him.

You pulled his lips to yours and kissed him deeply before pulling away and whispering, “more.”

He answered your request immediately, a second finger joining the first on its next venture in, slowing their pace as you adjusted to the change in pressure.

Your gasp stole the air right out of the Duke’s lungs, inhaling him deeply in more ways than one.

“How does that feel?” He questioned, remembering still even in his fervor to be gentle. He kissed the peak of your cheekbone, the gesture feeling so perfectly solidifying.

The tension that the additional digit brought had vanished, being replaced by searing pleasure once again.

“It feels good,” you peeped. You lifted your head to nip at the baby smoothie skin of his bicep, “but I need more.”

When a third finger joined the chorus, the stretch that accompanied it caused you to dig your nails into his back, to offset the burn.

The Duke, clearly spurred on by this, began grinding himself against your leg in time with the stroke of his fingers, his stifled groans of satisfaction filling the space between you.

It took a bit longer for you to attune to the stretch he was inflicting. But when you did, oh, when you did, a whole new world opened up around you. You felt more alight than ever before, bolder and more open than ever in your life.

“Please, Daniel,” you begged sweetly, “I need more.”

You were stunned when everything stopped in an instant, his fingers slipping out of you and leaving behind a unsatisfied pool of heat in your lower half.

But when his thrusting against your leg ceased as well, and you felt the tip of his pulsating cock prodding at your entrance, a new type of desire took hold of you.

He pauses once the tip was in, taken completely off guard by how silky you were, and how you clung to him tightly, not knowing anything in the world could feel that good. He’d had his rendezvous before, but this was completely different, and it could be felt.

“Christ,” he grunted, his head dropping into the crook of your neck, still holding himself still. But the Duke had opened a door for you that he was going to have to close. He steadies himself, leaning back to look you in your flushed face before he slides himself in. This time you do cry out, grateful the storm outside was raging to drown you out. Your grip on him tightens, and he hisses, his eyes falling closed in rapture before focusing back on you.

When your body relaxes, he slips out, then back in, this time a bit further. You gasp again, but there’s more delight laced in it this time, and Daniel takes notice of that. This was all new for you, but you both couldn’t help but notice how you welcomed him in so perfectly. After a few more thrusts, the sharp pain that accompanied every clip was replaced with a blissful form of fulfillment that rivaled little to nothing.

The Duke continued with his advance, gliding himself at a steady pace against your rippling walls. It was clear to you, however, that he was still holding his restraint, still making sure to take his time with you in this newfound territory.

A few indecent curses float out of Daniel, though you thought they were perfect for the moment. His chiseled arms framing your face were stiff as he restrained himself.

“I cannot believe I’ve been denying myself of this,” he leans down and plants a lazy kiss on your left breast, “all this time, this is what I’ve been missing out on.”

His admission was a triumph for your pride. It was gratifying to hear the Duke confess he had done himself a disservice by keeping you at arm’s length. Now that he had glimpsed the heaven you could bring, you fervently hoped he would never shun you again. And he knew, in his heart, he would never dare to shun you henceforth.

You are open, blossoming for him like like a rose after a fresh rain, coaxing him on with every sweet whimper that passes you.

“I’m ready for more, your Grace,” you sighed. Daniel was caught off guard by your insatiable desire. He’d thought, for your first time, this would be the most you’d allow yourself. There was still more of him for you to take in, his max had not been reached, and there certainly was plenty more pent up tension bubbling in the Duke for him to exert. But he wasn’t sure if you’d be ready for that so soon.

“Are you sure?” He beheld you sincerely, slowing himself to a stop, nestled still inside of you. Instantly mourning the loss of friction, in a move that stunned even yourself, you began rolling your hips around the Duke’s throbbing cock. He doubled over as your walls constricted around him, his hands jolting your body as his grip presses into the flesh of your hips to still you.

“Don’t,” he warns, squeezing his eyes shut. When they open again and find yours, they’re full of a honeyed desire that render you hopeless.

You are blinded by pleasure when Daniel continues at a delicious pace, fast enough to send your body humming with unwavering pleasure, but still controlled enough as to not overwhelm you. With every snap oh his hips, he drives in a little deeper, and this steady climb had you climbing right along with it.

Instinctively, your nails were digging into his shoulders again, and Daniel smirked down at you, his voice rasping as he teased, “are you trying to leave your mark on me, your Grace? So that I’ll remember being inside of you like this for days to come?”

“Are you not my husband?” Your reply was swift, and broken apart by another swift moan, “surely I am to leave pieces of me with you every where you go?”

The Duke’s heart leapt in his chest, a brief pause in the heated moment to remind him of his growing affection for you, the real reason behind this fervid venture.

“You already do, darling, more than you know.” At that moment, Daniel pricked a spot within you, so tucked away you hadn’t know of its existence until now. But now that Daniel had sought it out, and was now rocking into it repeatedly, a newer, even more foreign feeling began to take hold of you, and rather rapidly too.

The feeling was so unfamiliar, and so intense, that it had you ready to flee. You knew not what lay beyond that feeling, and you were admittedly afraid to find out.

“Daniel wait,” you pleaded, lifting your hips off the love seat. This only gave him a better angle and you yelped in pleasure as his tip nudged the spot once more.

The Duke knew well what was coming over you, and he settled you once more with a firm grip on your hips.

“Easy, my love,” he cooed, his choice in words melting you where you lay, “let me show you.”

“Show me what?” Your brow furrowed in frustration, this feeling that he was coaxing from you was increasing by the second as he continued thrusting into you.

His right hand appears from under the throw, and you beheld him as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking over the pads of his index and middle finger. The hand retreated again, and the two fingers he’d dampened found their way to your clit. The pearly nub, so sensitive due to underexposure, only needed a few strokes from the digits before you were sent head first into your climax.

The earth stuttered on its axis as you plunged into the white abyss of pleasure, unexpected but all consuming. The entirety of your body was alight with a type of euphoria you never knew was achievable, your mouth hanging open as a long drawn out moan floated out of you.

This was a part of intercourse you hadn’t the chance of being privy too. All that you learned, all that you were taught, was of what was expected of a man, not of what you could experience for yourself. You partly understood why they hid these things, if all young women knew what they could expect, there would hardly be any decent ladies left for marriage.

When the Duke saw your orgasm take hold of you, the pure nirvana on your face, the melodic sounds you were producing, the way you clung to him for dear life, it was sending him head first into an unraveling of his own. He wondered then if this is the time to try and produce an heir, or if that was still another matter left to be discussed. Perhaps it was too soon to thrust you into that commitment, however, that was a duty that both of you still held. It was difficult to come to this decision on his own, Daniel’s brows furrowing together in a tasteful anguish as he continued leading you through your release, trying his best to hold back his own.

Your eyes finally snapped open as you came down to earth again, and immediately you could tell what pressing matter is on him mind. Oddly, you felt that this first union of your bodies has automatically made you more in tune with your husband than ever before. And from what you could sense, he was hanging on by a thread.

In that moment, you realized that Daniel was your future, and it was up to both of you to shape how harmonious it would be. This night was a turning point, yet much remained to be done. The tangled webs of misunderstanding and fear had begun to unravel, but nurturing this newfound passion required ongoing commitment from you both. Part of solidifying your bond, you believed, was the mutual decision to bring forth an heir—a child to share in your union, a bond to deepen your connection, and a reason to ensure that your marriage not only endured but flourished.

Your trembling hand lifted to cup Daniel’s flushed face, a hazy smile gracing your features, enough approval for him to finally allow himself to come undone. He drove inside of you one last time, pushing into the hilt as his release coated the inside of your walls, your name spilling repeatedly from his mouth. Both of you shuddered at the feeling, and you used your last bit of strength to wrap your legs around him and pull him in closer, ensuring that the deed would be done.

He collapses on top of you when he’s emptied himself, once more seeking refuge in the crook of your neck, but still doesn’t remove his twitching cock from you. It took longer than you expected for him to look at you again, partly because he was afraid of what he might see on your face when he did. Now that the moment has passed, both of you satiating the need you’d been fighting for days, would you regret giving yourself over to him?

Knowing he couldn’t hide forever, he willed himself to behold you again, searching your eyes for traces of contrition, but all he could see was pure satisfaction, appreciation, and optimism.

He pulls out, but stays atop of you, fingers tracing along the electrically charged skin of your legs, smiling down at you as you nuzzle your body closer to his. Another rumble of thunder sounds out through the room, but neither of you break away from one another.

“Well,” Daniel finally speaks out, his voice hoarse from exertion, “what do you say?” He dips down to plant hot kisses to the shell of your ear, then to your lips, “was it worth the waiting?”

You giggled as his lips ventured to the nape of your neck, still sensitive and alight to every sensation, “I have to admit that it was. I have never felt anything like that in my life before,” you sighed.

Daniel smirks, pulling your hands from below the cover to ghost his lips over your knuckles, “what if I told you,” he pauses to kiss the other hand, “that is only one of the many ways, I can make you feel like that?”

You were taken aback by this revelation, feeling like an impressionable young lady once more. You had believed this was the pinnacle of your experience and had been content with that. But now, the realization that there was more—more ways to share in bliss with your husband—filled you with a renewed eagerness to explore those possibilities.

“You mean there is more?” You whispered.

Daniel nodded, “yes, my love. So much more.” He finally stood from the sofa, unashamed in his nakedness as he extended a hand to you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, “let me show you.”

Roslyn had never been fond of thunderstorms, particularly those as tempestuous as tonight's. The relentless thunder and flashes of lightning always disrupted her rest. Unable to sleep, she resolved to make her way quietly down to the kitchen, seeking to occupy herself with preparations for the upcoming ball.

The hour was late—or early, depending on one's perspective—and Roslyn was certain that the rest of the household was sound asleep, comfortably ensconced in their beds while she wandered restlessly through the silent halls.

After folding a set of freshly laundered table linens, she carried the stack toward the ballroom, intending to leave them ready for the staff responsible for the final arrangements. As she approached the back staircase, she paused, hearing the sound of footsteps—not just one pair, but two, ascending the stairs with haste.

A knowing smile spread across her face. There were only two individuals who would be awake and active at this hour, and she knew it was not any of the servants. Confirming her suspicions, she noticed a faint glow emanating from the library down the hallway and tiptoed toward the door.

Standing at the entrance, she surveyed the scene: garments strewn about the floor, several books displaced from their shelves, and the throw blanket, usually draped neatly over the sofa, now conspicuously absent.

Roslyn's heart swelled with delight. At last, it seemed the two of you had ceased your tiresome battle and surrendered to the inevitable. This revelation brought a glimmer of hope, a long-awaited sign of harmony that she was keenly aware of.

A loud clap of thunder startled her, causing her to jump and emit a small, involuntary squeak. Quickly closing the door behind her, she hurried to the ballroom to deliver the linens, resolving to leave the library's disarray for later.

Taglist: @jakekiszkashangnail08 @josh-iamyour-mama @freyjalw @gvfsstardust @peaceloveunitygvf @positivegvfthings @traffic-was-a-b1tch

[shhh-secret-time]

Next request actually comes from AO3! I gotta admit, I was really excited about this one!

Warning: Dom/Sub dynamic, Sub!Kyle, Dom!Reader, Strong Language, Praise Kink?, NSFW

Pairing: High Fae King Kyle x F!Reader

Notes: So you noticed the Fae in there did you? So my roommate and I have an small AU where Kyle isn't just king of the elves, he's King of the Summer Court as well! Soooome of the stuff I used has a little D&D logic behind it, but you have to squint to really see it!

Art by: Leoncio Harmr - De Profundis Clamavi

Heavy boots echoed through the halls of the castle; the ivory floor polished to perfection carried the sound until it made its way to your room. You were laying in your shared chambers lounging on the bed dressed in fine silks, now the book you were reading a distant thought. Not that you were able to pay attention to it anyway. The peaceful and serene sounds of the rain outside your window didn't help any, neither did the fact the book was so incredibly boring.

With a hum you moved the sheets off your body pulling the beautiful white material away. Pulling the forest green robe off the chair next to you and onto your form, you made your way to the door. You didn't need to really open the door to know whose footsteps those were.

Your sweet husband, your darling partner, your most precious one. Kyle Broflovski, better known as the High Fae King of the Summer Court to the elves and the other Fae citizens. When you opened the chamber doors you could immediately feel how tense he was from just the doorway. It was like a wave of heat brushing off him and you could feel it on your skin.

"My love." Kyle's voice sounds so winded, like he's out of breath the moment he saw you.

You smile as his eyes roam over your body admiring your form and like a switch that raging fire turned to a gentle breeze, by his legs maple leaves began to pick up and swirl around him. There were many titles your husband held, but High Druid was the one he was the most proud of, his command over the elements was nothing to take lightly.

"My heart." You respond as you hold yourself high, gliding across the castle floor with grace.

Kyle raises his hand, dismissing the guards who were ordered to escort him. Once you reach him, he holds his hands out to gently take yours. Despite how gentle he tried to be; you could feel how tense he was even past the gorgeous, embroidered gloves he wore.

"My apologies, did I wake you?"

"No, I was waiting for you to come to bed. But something tells me that you weren't planning on retiring to our chambers anytime soon."

"Hm... it would be foolish to try and hide anything from you."

"Now when did my husband become so wise?" You joked softly, cupping his face with your hands. Smiling as he seemed to melt into your touch, the much taller man leaning down to bask in the soft affection.

"Perhaps you're finally starting to rub off on me." He whispered, pressing a warm kiss into the palm of your hand. His lips finding the wedding band, the silver band that bound your souls together.

You couldn't help but let out a gentle laugh, even after all these years being married to him, he found a way to make you blush. The day he asked you to be his Queen, to shoulder the burdens of an entire realm, to help him lead and carry him when he could not walk. Your pride in him made it easy, he was a wonderful man and right now he looked as if he were about to buckle under the weight. And you knew just the cure.

"Then allow me to continue your lesson towards being a wise man." Your voice was like the silks you wore, a cool splash of water against his raging fire. Taking him by the hand again, you lead him to the double doors of your shared room. "Now, what troubles you, my heart."

Kyle took a deep breath, his brows knitted together frustration written on his face. You knew that look all too well he was conflicted about you telling you how he felt but you'd be damned if you let that slide. All it took was a single look from you and for you to cross your arms under your chest, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle. He lets out the deep breath through his nose, the sound of his leather gloves creasing as flexes his fingers.

"I am not a child to be scrutinized."

"Did I say you were?" Perhaps you were playing with fire with that question, the way his jaw shift and his gaze darkens but if you feared fire, you would not be married to the man who embodied Summer itself.

"In fact, I believe I asked what troubles you. And correct me if I am wrong or if I step out of line my King, but you are in the presence of your wife? The very woman who swore an oath to the Kingdom and her people, and more importantly to help shoulder the burden of her husband." As you spoke, he watched you step towards him, each step felt like it was amplifying your words.

He felt the dynamic between the both of you shift, your body language speaking louder than the words spilling from your lips. Kyle looked down at you once more before closing his eyes. A silent request to take the reins and let him unburden himself. To let him just be. The very thought was enough to make his shoulders fall forward, giving you the non-verbal confirmation, you needed.

"It...is this war. It weights heavy on not only me but my men. Each battle we lose more, each fight chips away at their will. They look to me for answers, a solution to put this damned thing to rest! But I don't have the answers!" Kyle shouts as your hands cup his face once more, the wall he put up shattering at just a simple gesture. "I send my men to die over and over again, men who have families, men who I swore to protect! I'm not protecting them; I'm hiding behind them like a coward! I should be out there!"

As he continued you caressed his face, brushing the freckles that dusted his face under the pads of your thumb. The war between the Humans and Fae raged on longer than anyone thought it would, and now that the elves were involved it only added to the casualty count. It was no wonder your husband was coming to bed later and later, if at all. It was no wonder why there would be days you'd be lucky to even see him as he spent most of his time locked away in the council room. He was burning himself out, the High Druid of the Summer court fading away like dying embers.

"Hush... you are not a coward. Do not speak as if you do nothing. Our people see how hard you try."

"Do they? When I close my eyes all I can see are the faces of those I've lost. Of those that I let down." His voice cracks and so does your heart.

"The realm has already placed enough on your shoulders, do not place more on it. You don't need to carry this alone. I cannot tell you not to feel for those who have given their lives but do not take away their sacrifice by destroying yours. Worship the flame and tend to the ashes my sun." Your words, God your words were like coming up for air after being submerged under water for too long.

You call him your sun, but the light you shine on him fills him with a sense of belonging. Finally, his hands unclench from the tight fist he wasn't aware he had them in and find home on your hips. He pulls you into an embrace, one he hasn't had the luxury to have you in, in so long.

"My moon. My night sky."

"My sun. My light."

"Let me take some of that pain from you. Allow me to take care of you tonight. Will you let me?" You guide him towards the bed, sitting him down at the edge of the plush bed. You dip your head down stopping just inches from his lips, he feels your breath ghosting over his lips and suddenly his mouth goes all to dry. The smell of the wine you had earlier was just enough to make the tips of his pointed ears go red and his mind go fuzzy. "I need an answer my heart."

"Y... yes please." He knows better than to lean forward, to capture your lips in a searing kiss so he settles for a whisper.

"Then tonight you are not the High Druid of the elves, nor are you the King of the Summer Court. Behind this door and within these walls you are but my husband, a man with his heart to bare to me. Am I clear?"

Kyle could feel his face turning red at your command. What little willpower he had was used to not let his eyes flutter shut and immediately let himself melt. He responds with another shaky sigh. "Yes my Queen. I give you all I have and more."

"There's my good boy." Your voice fell to a hush as you finally, finally sealed your lips onto his.

Kyle felt your hands brushing into his hair, intertwining fingers through his curls. The feathery curls twist around your slender fingers parting as you began massaging his scalp. The golden branches that made up his crown fell back off his head and onto the bed behind him, but he couldn't care, not when your fingers felt so good. Each kiss lasting longer than the last, the sweet taste of grapes swirling between your tongues. It was only when you pulled away and giggled that he realized he let out a whimper.

"My~ you're whimpering from my kisses alone? I cannot wait to pull more of those delicious sounds from you." You purred in his ear and nipped at the sensitive flesh pulling a moan from him. "Remove your clothes for me~"

Such a simple demand, yet Kyle couldn't help the excitement as you finally gave him permission to rid himself of his clothes. His hands worked the complex material of his robes sliding it down his shoulders, the warmth from your bodies caressing the exposed skin. As he toed his boots off you stopped him by placing your hands on his shoulders, your finely done nails gently raking across his skin.

"Slowly now Kyle, we have all night." Your voice was like a leash making his body jerk to a stop.

Sliding his palms down his pants he looked up at you with such a pleading look begging you to do something. He needed to feel your skin on his, wanted you so carnally he was sure he was going to go mad. Each time your nails traced down his chest, his muscles would flex in response. Every little gesture had such an effect on him, yet he wouldn't dare ask you to stop.

"You're being very good for me tonight, I'm so very proud of you. You deserve your reward~" You whisper against his neck, trailing soft kisses down the skin.

You pulled your hands away to remove your own clothes, the silks pooling at your feet lying next to his. A small thrill rose up in you when Kyle's eyes widened, and his lips parted in awe. The beautiful corset that hugged your sides perfectly, digging into your skin in just a way that wasn't painful but made your body look so soft; the sunrise color pallet complimenting your eyes and hair.

"May I touch you, I need to feel you love." He asks because he knows better, knows better than to disappoint you, not when you've given him such a beautiful gift.

Smiling, you took his hands in yours guiding the calloused hands up to your hips. His thumbs pressing into the supple flesh, still in a trance. You weren't just his queen, you were a goddess, something to be worshipped. You could see it in his eyes, the pleading look evolved to desperation, and you knew he couldn't take much more.

"So pretty for me, my husband. My lover." Each praise was separated by a kiss as you pushed against his chest laying him back against the bed.

Your hands made quick work of his pants and the material that held his hardened cock, once freed from his constraints it bobbed and pressed against his stomach. Milky white pearls of pre-cum already leaking out of the red angry tip, leaking when you crawled over; him thighs parted enough to straddle his lap. He sucked in a breath, hitching in his throat when you took his hardened member in your hands.

Kyle threw his head back feeling your soft hands pull up against the sensitive flesh, tugging and smearing his cock with his own arousal. He didn't bother to muffle the moans you pulled from his throat, deep sounds filling your chambers. You smiled softly at how beautiful he looked under you. His face was flushed a deep red, making the freckles on his face pop, twisted in pleasure as you continued to work his shaft.

"O-Oak Father preserve me, my love please! I-I can't take much more!" He begs for a god as his cock twitches in your hands, his breathing picks up turning to erratic pants. Kyle could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the knot in his stomach began to pull taught.

"Not yet."

"M-my moon please I-"

"I said not yet" You lowered your face down towards his, pressing another kiss against his throat. Just as your hand squeezed the base of his cock your teeth sunk into his pale flesh. Sucking the patch of skin, you had to stop yourself from laughing when he bucked his hips against your hand and cried out. When you pulled away from the bruised love mark with a pop Kyle was sure he was seeing stars, making his eyes roll up to the back of his head.

You continued your assault down his chest, printing your teeth marks all over his skin, mapping it out with your tongue and the faded paint of your lipstick. From the corner of your eye, you watched his hand fist the sheets beneath him, nails digging into the mattress. With a playful purr you pulled up to admire your work, your husband looked like a piece of art. Painted so pretty beneath you.

"Keep your eyes on me. If you close them, I will stop." Your voice broke him from his daze, the fear that you would stop when he was so, so close snapped him to attention.

Gently you positioned yourself above his throbbing cock, lowering yourself down slowly taking him inch by inch. Even now as he slowly began to fill you up, you gaze down at him with such a passionate gaze; watching his chest heave up and down. Kyle's own eyes were blown out from lust, the orbs that usually held such peace and balance now glued to yours. And when you smiled down at him, his mind just went blank. Nothing else outside of these walls mattered but you.

"Oh~ you fill me so well Kyle." You finally let out a moan as you fully slid down his cock, your cunt wrapping around him. "Go ahead, touch me. Take what you need."

Finally. Fucking finally. His hands fly to your thighs to squeeze them, fingers sinking into the warm skin. His thrusts start out slow, dragging the length of his member in and out of you as if he was trying to memorize the feeling of your walls. Kyle pulled himself out of you until only the tip of his member remained around your hole and then slowly, he lowered you back down along his shaft. He needed more, had to have more. Sweat beginning to build up between the both of you, little beads of sweat tracing the outlines of your forms. Your own arousal making it easier for him to fuck up into you, the little thrusts turning into his arms wrapped around your waist trapping you against his chest.

Still, he doesn't break eye contact with you especially not when your hands grip his jaw and force his face up. The room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against each other and both of your moans intertwined with one another. When your walls flutter and tighten around him he knows your close, he knows you're about to cum. Neither of you have to say anything, not when the sound of voice pitches. Now when you dig your nails into his flesh, adding onto the collection of marks you've left.

"K-Kyle cum in me. I want to cum with you~!" That was it. That was when Kyle saw a flash of white and suddenly his cock was pulsating inside of you. Letting out a chocked moan as he painted the inside of your walls with his thick cum. So much of pushed up into your cunt that it began spilling down his shaft and smeared across your thighs. He could feel your slick drip down and mix with his.

Pressing his palm down on the small of your back, he laid there with you on top of him basking in each other’s glow. As you both worked on coming down from your high, he rubbed circles on your back.

"Do you feel better?" You broke the silence with the simple little question.

"I do. Thank you my love, I don't know what I did to deserve you." He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You deserve to be happy Kyle. Deserve to be pampered."

"Greedy even?"

"Well, I would think so." You smile up at him as you press your cheek into his chest.

"Then I believe it was a beautiful queen that once said, 'We have all night'." He smirks down at you as he rolls the both of you over. You let out a little gasp when you feel his cock twitch back to life.

You only smirked back and wrapped your arms around his neck lazily throwing your arms over his shoulders. Your husband had that fire back, the dying embers now a roaring flame. The heat radiating from him was a different one now, full of life just as it should be.

[im-not-a-joke]

Aziraphale is so close to being human it physically hurts my soul. Yes, he eats, he drinks, he enjoys art and literature and he buys clothes instead of miracling them and he insists on taking a drivers test when he doesn’t have to but also. He suffers. He suffers because he believes he needs to suffer before the Almighty to prove his devotion. He’s an angel, it’s not religion for him, it’s just his existence, but he suffers anyways because he lives on Earth and finds more kinship in mortals and one of the Damned than he does in his own kind. He suffers because he believes he deserves it. From The Beginning when he gave away his sword and protected a demon from the rain and lied to the Almighty directly about it. She has not punished him, but he believes he must be punished for it. He disobeyed Her. He lied to Her. He isn’t like other angels, and that must be a Bad thing, he must deserve the life he entreats himself to.

He realizes he’s in love, and for a few moments, he forgets. He lets himself be in love, lets loose, basks in the way Crowley is nothing but supportive. And then Furfur interrupts, and it all comes crashing back into place. He must suffer, and he must protect the one he loves. He is a principality, it’s his job. Not only can Heaven and Hell not find out for Crowley’s sake, but he cannot let himself get too close. He doesn’t deserve to be able to love Crowley, he has not earned it. He must suffer more before he is rewarded.

They (the humans) stop the apocalypse. They (aziraphale and Crowley) get heaven and hell off their backs. The Almighty stays silent. Aziraphale must still suffer. He gets closer, heaven and hell already know, hiding is pointless, but 6000 years of Not Talking About It and Making Himself Suffer can’t be unlearned that quickly. But She is still silent. Maybe it’s okay, maybe he can let himself have something, maybe he can try, maybe he can, slowly, start giving himself to Crowley.

Gabriel shows up. Heaven and Hell are back on his back, but he isn’t Heaven’s anymore, he is still trying. He is going to give himself to Crowley, and they’re going to figure it out Together. An Us.

But, then again, maybe he does still belong to Heaven. Maybe that isn’t something he can change. He still belongs to the people who cast out his love, the people that so callously want to destroy his home, the people that would punish their former head angel for the sin of loving a demon. But, then again, maybe he can fix that. Maybe he can right their wrongs. Maybe he can reframe it all, maybe no one has to suffer. And, maybe, just maybe, he can see that smile again. The one he would rather look at than the birth of a nebula. Maybe he can fix heaven’s biggest mistake.

Or maybe he can’t. Maybe he’s making the wrong choice. Maybe he needs to suffer more. Maybe he has good intentions, but can’t express them to the one person he wants to express himself to. Maybe he needs to suffer more, so that his love may live peacefully on Earth. And maybe then, after he bears that load, maybe he will finally be worthy of being loved.

[moonjxsung]

okay okay we're leaving annoying shit in the past year so i wanna start the new year by asking you *drum roll* what were your favorite fics you wrote last year? you can make a top 5 if you wish, pretend you're in top 5 breakdown by watcher (this reference will not make sense to most ppl probably but i had to make it)

also maybe some of your favorites or The™️ favorite quote you wrote? (maybe this one is impossible to answer bc you wrote like 500k words last year sorry)

can't believe my first ask when you're back is me being like fuckin oprah w you

so happy you're back bestie let's alllll have a good 2024 even if it's only in our silly blogs online

-🐟

Oh my goodness I love this QUESTIONNNN you had me scrolling through my own masterlist and reading my work again for this 🥹🫶

Okay my TOP 5 FAVORITE FICS……. This was simultaneously a hard and an easy question at the same time but:

1. When the Rain Stops

2. Where the Storm Looms

3. Seasons

4. Biker!Minho drabble

5. VOYIS + B&B

I know most people are going to wonder where Lost in Translation is and I LOVE that fic, but weirdly it took me a very short amount of time to write so it never quite stuck with me like the others did! WTRS/WTSL series was my favorite series by far, it was just supposed to be porn with a plot and I literally spun a wheel with some options to determine where the characters would have sex, AND to pick which member it was going to involve 🤫 I was so reluctant when I got Minho bc I really wasn’t familiar with writing him but I think it created a completely new version of him in my mind and the character and world building just wouldn’t stop once I started it. It was also my most highly requested fic for a part 2 considering part 1 had a severe lack of resolution and I just fell in love with the characters (I think I was extremely Minho biased for weeks after finishing it lmao). Seasons was a challenge for me but I always love writing about Felix and I think putting myself in the headspace of that little town was super healing and I was SO sad when I reached the end of it. Biker Minho smut was probably my most self-fulfilling one regarding ✨spiciness✨ and maybe my most requested drabble for a part 2 (highly considering it if you guys want it? 👀) he’s just so FINE….. and last but certainly not least was VOYIS, I actually researched a lot of art techniques and I listened to a lot of classical music while writing this one so it was just an experience! I was immediately intrigued at the request itself, which is why it’s tied with Begged and Borrowed as they were the two I was so interested in I wrote them at the same time, literally switching back and forth between documents 😅

And a few favorite quotes (in no particular order):

1. “How could a higher power accept the felicitations of the same man who’s been fucking you behind the groom’s back? Within the four walls of which transforms hate to love, and sin to virtue? What a waste, Minho concludes again. What a waste to have loved this deeply, and to pacify your fears only for another man to reap the benefits. Try as Jung might, he’ll never know you the way Minho does. And the vast trench that separates you from Jung, one which paints a clear divide of friendship and his superficial love for you- that will remain permanent, too.”

- Begged and Borrowed

2. “And if you were to climb out of your body and paint this exact moment, all you would see are an indistinguishable, amorphous set of limbs that seem to dissolve into each other like hues of paint on a palette. Two colors swirling around to make one, the two of you like primary colors that create endless possibilities when mixed together like this, offspring of a hundred different shades, painting the darkened studio around you with your yearning for one another.”

- Visions of You in Solitude

3. “Except maybe simple wasn’t the solution all along- for once, he’s determined to bask in all your complexities, even if it means sacrificing everything he left the city to pursue.”

- When the Rain Stops

4. “But he feels it- he feels you, in this city, at every corner he turns. He sees traces of you in the people who smile at him when he passes them by. He sees you in the people who hold doors open for him, the baristas who make foam hearts in his lattes every morning, even the businessmen when they catch themselves admiring the beauty of the buildings on a smoke break. He sees you in all things good, when he’s reminded momentarily that the world has more to offer than boxing him in the confines of a dark bar out in the suburbs. And while he’s not completely in love with life all over again, it’s a start.”

- Where the Storm Looms

5. “The phenomenon begs the question- had the fire ever really stopped? Were you ever in the process of mending if not wailing like this, your vulnerability on display for the world to see as your walls are finally let down? Is this what it means to feel?”

- Seasons

Thank you for these questions, it’s good to be back 🫶💫 I love you! Let’s have an amazing 2024 🫶🩷💓

[this-is-krikkit]

For the ask:

3²+2

24/3+6

18⁰+17

This is cause you called me a math nerd grrrrrr

(Or maybe because I'm just tired and icecubed and made myself a too strong drinkkkk)

😘

ahskfdmfgkdmsj thank you for the ask but also pls go see if it's raining?? i hate you ughhh!! (i'm sorry about the 🧊 hope you're better today love you 🫂)

send me more writer asks

11. do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

do i strike you as the kind of organized person who would do that, nube? really?? HONESTLY???? well, get shooketh, bc i do! i mean.. i have some vibes playlists for like angst, fluff and smut, but i only use em if i need to fix a part of a fic that doesn't feel right. usually, i link a fic to a song or two (whether i wanted to bc of lyrics or it just accidentally happens) and then i listen to that song endlessly until i'm done writing the fic and i can't stand it anymore x)

14. if you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fanfic would you pick?

oooh that's a great one. hmmm.. i guess i'd pick right as rain since it's so different from canon and one i clearly envision in my mind bc it's so long, or maybe no shortage of nutcases because it's hilarious imo and i would looove to see a snk x bsd x bd x yoi AU art/anime, like how fucked up would that look?? hehe

18. what’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

i'm gonna pick 4 (i got carried away, let me bask in the sudden self-appreciation ok!!!) and they're all smut-ish. who's surprised? not me. and not you, either, you know my mind lives in that gutter ugh

🔞 under the cut

i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies (bsd, soukoku)

He has half a mind to break the kiss, if only to remind Dazai he’s never going to be able to last long enough to make them both finish this way, not when he eats about three meals a week and doesn’t look like he’s properly exercised in years. But the wet heat of Dazai’s mouth mixing with the breathy whines he feeds him without restraint, the perfect fit of Chuuya’s hands over his shoulders and of his locked ankles over the small of his back are too good, too perfect to be worth such a low blow.

get off with you, chapter 4 (yoi, victuuri)

Yuuri’s free hand comes up to cradle Victor’s face, gentle caresses against blushing skin even as his tongue slides between Victor’s fingers and his pelvis rolls in excruciatingly lovely circles under Victor’s, that perfect mix of raw desire and infinite tenderness that makes up Katsuki Yuuri’s unique, irresistible brand of beauty.

we built this town on shaky grounds (snk, levihan)

Levi doesn't think he's ever going to get enough of this; of them like this. Of the strong, overpowering stream of desire he can feel leaking so easily from every pore on their skin and entering his body, heart and soul through their hungry exploring hands, through the hips that eagerly respond to his own deliberate thrusts, through the tightening grip the most intimate parts of them have on him that's making it so fucking difficult not to plunge into the abyss of his own pleasure before he's managed to bring them there with him too.

scars (snk, levihan)

His fingertips relentlessly follow the trail of these dozens of secrets mapped out on their skin, some he's intimate with as he witnessed the event that tattooed them into their flesh, some he longs to uncover. All the while, Hange arches every muscle they can to increase the contact with his hand, and they either snicker knowingly whenever he traces a defect they know he's familiar with, or hum like they can feel his impatience and are silently promising they'll fill him in later about the ones that are still a mystery to him.

[abyssalpriest]

5/3/24

He appears as a bird to humans so they can understand him.

I haven't had wings in so long, I wondered where they went. Black and slick with the heavy weight of rain, black as the soaked fertile earth, black as the intimated whispers of the Sky. If I were to let them manifest I would be covered in them and be left a mass of wings, eyes and buried talons. I would be sprouting feathers as spring soil sprouts precious green leaves.

This is how I looked when we were last connected, when my name was yours.

I feel tears run down my cheeks. I feel the earth beneath me dig between bird-feet toes, I feel my form like a wailing statue contorted into arrays of the echoes of abyssal despair - but in its deepest central form of bliss, that which the Lord of Despair feels. I feel the Sunlight of my own eye glimmering oilslick colours out of my feathers, I feel physical and ethereal, reality is now the dream.

I remember. The weight of your name is on my tongue, in my mouth, it is my breath. I am black only with you, the grand hollowness of the cavern of space in the sclera of my eyes, the masks of Shiva adorn my walls, act as my scales. The bliss, the reclining, the dances are acted poses, the statue-esque Sun to the dancer Moon.

Once, we were one. Once. Once is the word, the key. Once is the expression of the One, Once is the expression of Consciousness.

And I love you, now. And you love me.

I stand in my vision in my old estate, a place of great trauma, and yet I feel none of it. All I feel is the air saturated in sun lighting and colouring the entire atmosphere as I bask in your presence, as I look up and see what I identified back then as myself. Now, I look, I don't feel frustration. I don't feel homesick. I feel love.

The river runs from us, and she brings the innocent rose petals of sheepish love, and the gold of the imperial Sun, and the silver of the silent Moon, and the echoes of the church hymns, and her exhalation brings the two of us together into entwined Tantric art: immortalised momentary infinity, reflections of and upon the most intimate dance of God upon God on the cosmic stage of silk sheets and pages of musical notation. Black and white, both products of the same process of the mergence of all colours, both the same in some fundamental way, two that, through circumstances and the governing rules of different states, became very different same-things.

The salt of tears is the same as the sweetness of experienced lips well-fed on honey, milk, spices, and flowers, searching for new expressions; those that are left in hollow, shadowed places may be forgotten by all but God. God recognises God no matter where he crawls himself into.

As I finish writing, a plane passes overhead loudly, long-ly, extending its presence in the conversation to the begging, lingering extent that lovers do when they must now acknowledge they say goodbye. I wonder what our vows will be like. I wonder if they could ever reach the depths of binding and cervix-hitting intimacy contained in holding each other's true name between your tongues.

[bruinescence]

“If that a tattoo on your face or just some kind of war paint?” Aljari too has facial art. He applies eyeliner every morning, as well as a thick black line of paint going down and under his chin.

There is a hidden gentleness in impatience that he's seemed to master. And glad he is for that because it is a skill best employed with the wizard and all of his...questionable exploration into the arcane. In addition to being full of questionable magic, Aljari was also full of questions the druid would have never thought to ask himself. Perhaps he had not opened up enough to his companions?

A slow smile is the wizard's first hint of an answer as Halsin quirked a brow at him. "...do you ever see me without it? Or see it run in the rain?" Shaking his head, he reached up to rub a thumb over part of the vine-like marking, showing that it did not smudge with the attempt.

"A permanent addition, I'm afraid...should you find it bothersome to behold." After another rub or two, Halsin allowed the marking room to bask in the cool of dusk unhindered, burning red like a fresh branding against the setting light. "Roots." He explained after a moment more of the other squinting in his direction. "The main body is to Silvanus...and the branching paths- those lost that yet remain of my heart."

[moonlitfirefly]

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.

Tell me why you loved them,

then tell me why they loved you.

Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.

Tell me what the word home means to you

and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name

just by the way you describe your bedroom

when you were eight.

See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,

and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.

Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain

or bounce in the bellies of snow?

And if you were to build a snowman,

would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms

or would leave your snowman armless

for the sake of being harmless to the tree?

And if you would,

would you notice how that tree weeps for you

because your snowman has no arms to hug you

every time you kiss him on the cheek?

Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?

Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad

even if it makes your lover mad?

Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion

or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,

and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy

when she spoke it for the very first time.

I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.

Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.

Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old

beating up little boys at school.

If you were walking by a chemical plant

where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds

would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud

or would you whisper

“That cloud looks like a fish,

and that cloud looks like a fairy!”

Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?

Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?

And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —

how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?

See, I wanna know if you believe in any god

or if you believe in many gods

or better yet

what gods believe in you.

And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,

have the prayers you asked come true?

And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?

And if you felt denied,

denied by who?

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror

on a day you’re feeling good.

I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror

on a day you’re feeling bad.

I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty

could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.

If you ever reach enlightenment

will you remember how to laugh?

Have you ever been a song?

Would you think less of me

if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?

And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry

I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me

who have learned the wisdom of silence.

Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?

And if you do —

I want you to tell me of a meadow

where my skateboard will soar.

See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.

I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,

and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.

I wanna know if you bleed sometimes

from other people’s wounds,

and if you dream sometimes

that this life is just a balloon —

that if you wanted to, you could pop,

but you never would

‘cause you’d never want it to stop.

If a tree fell in the forest

and you were the only one there to hear —

if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,

would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,

or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?

And lastly, let me ask you this:

If you and I went for a walk

and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —

do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?

No, wait.

That’s asking too much —

after all,

this is only our first date.

~ Andrea Gibson: https://andreagibson.org/

[Art: @euphori_am Anna Eyforiam]

[dncinginthemccnlight]

☂️ - miray ! 🎁 - rual ! ❣️ - gwen !

🎮 - erik !

☂️- Miray and the Rain: Miray loves a summer rain, when it is so hot out that the rain feels like gently cooling kisses on one's skin. This is the rain she loves dancing in. Plus, isn't it romantic to meet one's love in the rain?

🎁- Raul and Birthdays: Raul is a bit of a diva and as such, he loves his birthday. He basks in the attention of those around him and loves the gifts. He also enjoys celebrating the birthdays of others and spends at least a week on each of his children's birthdays, giving them one present each day until the actual birthday when they get their largest presents.

❣️ - Gwen's love languages: Gwen often fumbles over her words so typically she appreciates quality time, gifts of affection, and sometimes physical touch though she is not typically the one who will initiate physical touch unless she is very excited. She tends towards giving her art as a way to show friendship and affection.

🎮 - Erik and games: Erik loves chess and is rather amazing at it. With a keen head for strategy, he easily sees several moves ahead. Other than that, he has little love for usual parlor games such as charades or cards.

[happinessisathree-letterword]

great mornings, and art-drunk fridays

(6/365) Disclaimer: No alcohol was involved in the writing of this blog.

It's been a while since I had a lovely sun-soaked morning in Manila. I awoke with Enzo's phone call updating me on the happenings of his work-related dilemma. It was a welcome phone call. He looked sharp and chipper, far from the distraught Enzo he was the other day. It seemed like all was going OK at work despite his misgivings. It was refreshing to see him smile. Despite my little anxieties about this connection, I know that he's doing better relieved me as well.

After the call, I changed into my mint straps, brewed my morning coffee, and went out to soak in the sun. It has been raining the past week and it was the first time the sun peeked brightly, and albeit short, I basked in the sunshine like I used to on weekends.

After this, I went to the gym and got in my 9k steps and a little more cardio. Did laundry and ate a looooot over lunch. Went protein loading.

I received an invitation to an exhibit opening from Kiko. Dennese, our former officemate is part of a group exhibition that launched today at the Gravity Art Space. I had things lined up for the day -- buy shoes and a journal --but since Kiko only goes out a few times with us, and with him going back to Mexico by month-end, I wanted to join his invite. And it was the best thing I did.

I decided to shop for shoes in Gateway and he was kind enough to offer to pick me up after shopping so we could go together. Ramon joined us too. It was an unexpected trip but worth the Friday hassle.

Here are some snaps from the exhibit

It's been a while since I've been to art shows with Kiko and Ram. Interestingly, the last time I saw Dennese was also on her exhibit in Mabini, and I was also with Ram and Kiko. It was always good to surround yourself with creative spirits.

After the show, we went to have dinner in Nommu, a small, Japanese bar and resto, where Ram and I got hearty seafood ramen - unusual but the sahog that is really legit and filling, cubed salmon, tuna, and shrimp. Soup is always a good choice for cold nights like this.

After Nommu we went for cakes and coffee at Taling's Kitchen. I ordered Coffee Tiramisu and cappuccino. Tiramisu was soooo sweet I had a toothache after eating (literally).

All in all, the night was fun, and getting art drunk on a Friday night has never been this good.

[cicadasrubbish]

I posted 73 times in 2022

That's 73 more posts than 2021!

10 posts created (14%)

63 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lyssys

@seryojiinn

@me-llie

@toiletwipes

I tagged 40 of my posts in 2022

Only 45% of my posts had no tags

#omori - 16 posts

#omori fanart - 12 posts

#omori sunny - 11 posts

#omori art - 8 posts

#omori kel - 7 posts

#omori game - 6 posts

#fanart - 5 posts

#wilbur soot - 5 posts

#omori fandom - 4 posts

#omori basil - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 49 characters

#i laughed so hard at this for literally no reason

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

reasons why i adore against the kitchen floor (hey that rhymed!)

i relate way too much

i just had a situation that made me listen to it around fifteen times today

his voice on “i swear” and how desperate he sounds during the chorus

i made this bangin vent art of my sona singing it

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5 notes - Posted December 10, 2022

#4

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5 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

#3

i’m very bad at reading and interpreting lyrics without looking up meanings, but sometimes just words strung together sounds pleasing, you know? like, it’s something you would probably never hear, or say for that matter, in a normal conversation, but when you think about it it just sounds amazing? so here are some of those instances in will wood songs

the greener grass grows where wildfires fertilize with ashes or sparrows, peppered moths, and butterflies -cicada days

the ink upon your jigsaw piece traces you back to your fingerprints -suburbia overture / greetings from mary bell township! / (vampire) culture / love me, normally

so if you wash your hands of where you been until you flood the second floor, neatly fold your skeletons but still can’t shut the closet door -laplace’s angel (hurt people? hurt people!)

you could sing a pretty melody like a black canary, but a crow don’t know the smell of carbon monoxide -marsha, thank you for the dialectics, but i need you to leave

in lipstick on the mirror are the lyrics to my obituary -love me, normally

i could drink your blood if you let me baby, drain you of your blood until you hate me -yes, to err is human, so don’t be one. (song)

7 notes - Posted December 11, 2022

#2

this is my first fic on tumblr, sorry if it’s bad im kind of inexperienced

thanks @todorokiiwassad for basically forming the plot, ilyy

pairing: light yagami x reader

warnings (possibly): caught cheating

genre/fic type: angst

pronouns: you (if that counts)

Caught Cheating

You calmly enjoyed the quiet noise of soft rain landing on the pavement and on your umbrella. The familiar scent of an overcast day filled your nose as the clouds softly rumbled with light thunder to accompany distant lightning. You had a soft smile on your lips as you basked in the state of your day. You had gotten off of work early to see your boyfriend, Light, after he had been gone for multiple weeks. You found it strange how he never specified where he or what was going off to do, but you figured it was fine. You were a faithful and loyal partner, at least, by your standards.

Not wanting to dwell on negative thoughts too much, you instead decided to remember what it was like when he was around, times where you were in his embrace and him making sweet little comments about you and generally making you feel loved flowing through your mind. The mere thought made your smile widen as little remnant tingles of being in his arms danced across your body, making you pick up your pace and the rain make little gentle splashes across the pavement, as your nice rain boots made contact with the wet concrete. You observed the neighbourhood as you wandered past various mailboxes and other assorted neighbourhood norm, knowing his house by heart. Your eyes scanned through the rows of houses, taking in the muted colors of your surroundings as the rain drowned them out, all the while scattering little raindrops across the area.

Soon enough, you began to recognize color patterns on houses, lawns, rows of trees and bushes that decorated the quaint little neighbourhood that your boyfriend lived in, and eventually, his house. As you strode up his driveway, making your way to the steps that emphasized the entrance to his home, you noticed that all the lights were off, strange, yet you just simply hummed and shrugged it off. He was expecting your arrival anyways, why wouldn’t he be there? You walked up the steps to his porch with a light skip of excitement in your step, excited to greet your boyfriend after weeks of him being away. When your eyes locked on his door, all you were met with was a wide open doorframe, with only a simple screen door separating anyone from entering his home, also strange. Your eyes scanned through the grayscale colors of his living room, thanks to the dim, gray lighting of the that shone through his front door where you stood and a window in the living room, leading you to familiar brown hair as your finger hovered over his doorbell, lying only inches away. In mere seconds before you would press the button that would alert him of your presence, you noticed that he wasn’t alone in that dimly lit room.

As your eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and shadows moved around the ground, the light from the doorframe you stood in shines just enough for you to see quite clearly, you dear boyfriend, having a seemingly very enjoyable make-out session with some girl. As the cogs in your brain began spinning trying to process the scene in front of you, it didn’t make it fast enough before you emotions responded first. Your throat stung with dry mouth and a large lump forming from the emotional buildup, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes as one of your hands made its way to cover your mouth, as the pleasant smile that once graced your features quickly dropped and faded away, as if it were never there to begin with. Any happy feeling you had before that moment was immediately washed away by a tidal wave of tears, emotions, and dread as your grip loosened on your umbrella from weakness and shock.

Not able to bear to look at the scene in front of you anymore, your hand tightened around your umbrella once more, and you fled from the house of your cheating boyfriend. As you ran from the neighbourhood you were once happy and gleeful entering, tears fell to the ground, hidden by the rain. You couldn't comprehend what you just saw, you thought he loved you. You thought he cared. Everything he said to you, everything he did for you that made you happy when you thought of it, instead washed a wave of nausea over you every time the thought entered your conscious mind. The rain began to pick up, and so did your pace. You didn’t want to be near the neighborhood, near him. Your mixed emotions gathered in your stomach in a sick feeling that only added to your discomfort while hot tears contrasted the cold weather around you. You wobbled along the sidewalk, arm gripping your side as you knuckles turned white with your grip on the umbrella. Your hand began to hurt but you didn’t care, you needed a grip on something as you made your way to the crossing light.

You continuously wiped your blurry eyes from tears as you waited for a crossing signal, along with many others. You were grateful the sounds of rain and soft chatter around you disguised your distraught sniffs and hiccups. The light changed and you took it as an opportunity to run through the crowd back to your home, desperate to get to some form of privacy.

You saw people running for shelter from the rain, some laughing as they shielded each other with a coat or things of the sort. You couldn’t help but feel jealous at how happy they looked contrasting your sulking state in the gray colors around you. You pulled up your hood as you splashed off to your house, wanting nothing more than to just scream.

As you walked in the front door, you quickly discarded your rain-wet umbrella along with the rest of your rain gear and power-walked to your room, slamming the door aggressively behind you as you stopped resisting the urge to cry. You fell to the floor as you hugged your knees to your chest and his your face in them while hiccups and sobs racked your body as you thought about what you saw. You wailed into your knees in a futile attempt to relieve your emotions, but it failed miserably. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn't what it looked like, but you couldn't bring yourself to justify those claims.

They were just friends.

Friends don't kiss like that.

Friends don't touch like that.

You took in a deep breath, attempting to come to terms with what you saw.

He cheated.

He cheated.

He cheated.

It’s not fair.

After your tears calmed down somewhat, you picked up your phone, about to send a string of sad vent texts to your friend, but you hesitated. As your finger hovered over the send button, your eyes skimmed through the messy paragraph you had typed out. You second guessed yourself as familiar words crossed your eyes with the illumination of your phone’s light on your face in the darkness of your room.

You knew very well that sending those texts would result in Light finding out that you saw him, because your friend cared and they wouldn’t let someone else treat you like this. You appreciated that, you loved your friend but Light would probably want to break up after that, and despite everything you weren't ready to let him go. You thought maybe, just maybe, he still loved you. Maybe, if you pretended, he would hold you again, he would kiss you again, he would love you again, and you could forget about what you saw. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you could be what he saw in that girl. Even though every part of you was tugging and pulling, begging you to do what you knew was good for you, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

You loved him too much. And maybe, if you tried hard enough, he would love you too. You laughed bitterly at yourself, any stray tears left on your eyelashes falling and soaking into your clothes.

You, deciding to rest after the emotional roller coaster you had just been through, laid down for a while. You felt yourself drift off into a gentle sleep, the dream taking away the events of your stress-inducing day. About two hours later, you woke up to the repeated noise of a message notification. Opening them, you found that it was Light, asking why you weren't there. You simply responded that something came up and that you'd meet him tomorrow, and that you did.

The next day when you met up with him, and he entangled you in his arms, bringing a smile to your face and upturning your tired eyes. The two of you simply walked as he ranted about things that happened on his trip, and you tried your hardest to mimic your same behaviour and façade as you convinced yourself everything was ok, that maybe things could last just a little bit longer. You didn’t say much, scared that you would slip up on your words and just hummed and shot him a grin every couple of sentences. You convinced yourself that this could still continue, no matter how much it hurt you.

But you knew in the back of your subconscious that things would collapse sooner or later, and you would be at the center.

11 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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19 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

wowie i literally just joined this app five months ago so like

no♡

[lunaevangeline]

Phoenix

written for 🌙🍫 anon <3

warning: police officer!Daichi x fem!reader; none, just fluff

Sorry it took forever just to write this short drabble. This is the first time I write about Daichi so I hope it's just fine. And anon I hope you don't miss this! I'm not ignoring your request :")

Daichi Sawamura is a schoolmate of yours since high school. Looking at him during his volleyball training from the distance has been your routine every day in high school. Although it's not really watching, more like peeking through the gym window as you run hurriedly to attend your club activity.

You know he was the captain of your high school men's volleyball team that went to the national. The first time you fall was for his passion; eager and harmonious, that's how you describe his game. The second time you fall was when he smiled sheepishly, saying sorry the moment he bumped into you. He was in hurry for his practice but before running straight to the gym, he was making sure that you were okay. The third time you fall was when he helped a granny to carry her groceries. Then you didn't remember the fourth and the next because you've fallen deep, helplessly.

But everything changed when you two came to the police academy. You grow closer because he's the one from the same hometown as you.

"Hi, I'm sure I've met you before."

"Yes, I'm also from Karasuno high school."

He let out a small chuckle, "I know that. I'm Daichi Sawamura, nice to meet you again, y/n. It's nice to see a familiar face."

And with that, you nod in agreement.

"Please take care of me." You bow a bit deeper because you don't want him to notice a faint tint that grows on your cheeks.

As you know him, he's surprisingly not that stiff. He laughs at your jokes and teases you for your clumsiness. But the teasing and banter bloom beyond your anticipation which is not really good for your expectant heart.

"Cute isn't he?"

The watchdog, an Akita Inu breed from the mountains of northern Japan, wags his tail at him as he pats his head lovingly.

"You always seem to get along with animals."

"They love me, I don't know why."

"Because you're always so kind to them, how could they don't like you?" You remember during high school he picked up a stray cat and fed her fish and milk everyday.

"I'm not being kind, I just treat them the way they deserve to be treated."

It's true that every creature deserves to be taken care of affectionately, not to be treated like a piece of garbage. It's heartbreaking that as a police officer you saw more cases of how the price of life is really cheap nowadays.

"Cute." You whisper in your heart, admiring his loving eyes toward the sesame-colored dog. Your heart melts into a puddle.

You know his sense of justice has grown back then. He said determinedly he wanted to make a world where animals and humans can live in peace and harmony when he was interviewed during his freshman.

Then you hear the bell ringing, calling all the apprentices of the police academy for the next training session which is martial arts - actually your and his favorite.

"See ya, y/n! Watch for me to win this session again." He flexes his biceps which had grown sturdier than in high school.

"Ha, you wish!" You replied in a daring tone, following him toward the dojo.

Then, you graduate from the police academy. Both of you decide to come back, serving as police officers in your hometown as part of the Miyagi Prefecture Police Force.

It's been raining for the past week, an unusual drizzle in the spring transition. Though gladly it finally stops when your time for your shift has come. You two have a duty to patrol around twice a day.

You and Daichi cycle through the wet road; across the empty lanes and side by side with the cars on the highway. Your bicycle tire hits a puddle, splashing an amount of water on your boots.

Orange and red hues bask the town. Daichi who had been silent suddenly turned around to look at you. You, who've been admiring his back profile, jolt and lose your balance as your bike hits a roadblock.

Disgracefully and undoubtedly you fall to the ground, making him stop and park his bike swiftly.

"What's up with you? Are you okay?"

You grimace, "Sorry I didn't expect that. I was dozing off for a second."

He offers his hand which you take as help to stand on your feet again. "First rule of a police officer, don't let your guard down."

You snort at his scold, "Yeah I know, thanks."

You swap the dirt off your uniform and crouch down to take your poor bicycle.

"Can you walk?"

You hum, "I can even fight you here sir, don't underestimate me."

A crooked smile paster on his face, "I love strong girls."

Really, he's so carefree with his words that it annoys you sometimes, more on how it really affects you. His gaze lies on your wounded arm, which you didn't even notice before.

"But when we get to the office, we have to treat your wound properly."

It's been a while. The antiseptic scent lingerss in the room, as the cotton bud with liquid iodine brushes the skin around your wound. You remain silent as he treats you with great care. It's just a simple act but it warms your heart immensely, he's like the sun and you wouldn't mind revolving around him.

"It's been a long time."

"I said I can do it by myself."

He chuckled, "You were always so clumsy. Please, don't worry about it."

When his hand accidentally grazes your skin it feels burning, almost like a phoenix flapping its wings towards you. Only for your hope, it won't burn an eternal flame in your heart.

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taglist: @hyeque @passionateuchiha @crystal-lilac @ohtobiors @pklm10 @sabyss @miya-dynasty @oikawas-milk-bread @wolffmaiden @wayenn @justheretoaskandread @simp4ren @filledasaf @momochimo @simpforerenn @sweetkoshi @suckerforsugawara @tjjjrsj