#and the fact that he's thinking about tea pots at all

[thcmcnstcr-a]

Breaking news, guy who just did a dab can't stop thinking about tea pots

[moonstruckme]

would you write a part two to whimsy!reader totally knowing remus’ secret? i feel like r would be so sweet and casual about it that remus would cry

Thanks for requesting!

cw: post-moon werewolf Remus, mention of blood and wounds (no description)

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.4k words

The boys usually send you away this time of month. They try to be subtle about it, encouraging you to go visit your family or sleep over at a friend’s house, but you’re not one to let the full moon pass you by without notice. It didn’t take long for the pattern to reveal itself. 

Still, you don’t argue when James gifts you tickets for you and a friend to see a band you like out of town. You know they’re all most comfortable doing things the way they always have, and you worry that letting slip what you know would do more harm than good; Remus would be anxious and upset, and the other boys would only be doing more damage control than they’re used to with you around. So, you let the full moon pass you by without complaint. 

The next day, however, when you know James and Sirius will have gone to work and left Remus to rest and heal, you sneak into your apartment. 

The fact of Remus’ ailing is immediately obvious; the boys’ things are strewn all over the place, evidence of James’ and Sirius’ running about without Remus to pick up after them. There’s a pot of half-eaten stew that’s been left to cool and congeal on the stove, an abandoned roll of bandages on the coffee table, and the entire apartment smells like disinfectant and heartache. 

When you find Remus in the bedroom, your heart aches, too. He’s sleeping, but even in rest his face is pinched with discomfort, and there are several bandages visible above where the bedsheets rest halfway up his torso. It’s about what you expected, but it still makes your eyes burn. 

You try to let him sleep as long as possible, working with the environment first. You open a few windows to get out the smell and let in the new day, clean the common spaces, start your lavender incense burning in the bedroom. You’re brewing tea when Remus pads into the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Oh.” He startles to see you. “You’re back.” 

You’re startled, too. “Hi, I’m sorry,” you say, hurrying over to the windows to shut them. “Did I wake you? Is it too cold in here?” 

“No.” Remus looks wary, watching you flit about the living room like he’s not sure he’s actually woken up. “It’s nice. When did you get home?” 

“Just this morning. I didn’t see the sense in staying another night, and anyway I wanted to be with you.” You make your way back around the room to him, taking his jaw gently in your hand. His skin is warm to the touch. “How are you feeling, lovely?” 

You feel more than see Remus’ face tighten. “I’m alright. How are you?” 

You let him go, giving him a small smile. “Better now that I’m back with you, thanks for asking.” You go back to the stove to stir your pot. “If you’re warm, you don’t need to keep that blanket on for me. I’ve already seen the bandages.” 

You hear his quiet intake of breath, and then a few moments later the sound of the blanket dropping to the floor. 

“Are you in the mood for some tea?” you ask without turning around. “If you want to get back in bed, I could bring it to you there. I don’t imagine standing is very kind to your legs right now.” 

You’ve been reading up on wolf versus human anatomy. If Remus’ transformations work the way you think they do, the bones in his heels and legs would have to either break or otherwise shorten and elongate to create the legs a wolf needs; you can’t imagine it’s a painless process, or that he’s not still feeling the effects of it now, so soon after the moon.

For a dense handful of moments, Remus lingers on the edge of the kitchen. But soon you hear his footsteps, heavier than usual in a way that makes your stomach hurt, go back towards the bedroom. You finish making his tea and bring it to him with a few pieces of his chocolate. 

He’s sitting up at the edge of the bed, propped up on pillows and watching the smoke curl up from your incense with a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Hi,” you say softly. He accepts the tea and chocolate with a quiet thanks. “Do you think it might help things if I opened the curtains? Some sunlight might be good for you.” 

Remus hums his assent. Everything becomes crisper once you let the light in. Remus’ dark circles and the blood visible through his bandages, but also the healthy flush to his cheeks and the strength of his body beneath the dressings. 

“What is this?” Remus asks you, sipping his tea. 

“Bay leaves. It’s for pain relief. It helps more if you put it directly on the wounds, but I didn’t think you’d want to mess with your dressings any more.” 

He nods. Sighs. “Come here, dove. Come sit.” 

You’re eager to comply. You round the bed to avoid crawling over him, settling against the pillows beside your boyfriend with your shoulder touching his. A support, if he needs it. 

“What’s the incense for?” he asks. 

“It’s lavender. It’s also good for pain, but I thought it might help you sleep as well.” 

Remus nods again. He turns to you, his eyes some mixture of distressed and resigned. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asks. “Why did you come home?” 

“Remus,” you say gently, “we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” 

His brows hook in the middle, a small crumbling. “But you know already.” 

You cradle his face in your hand. Your voice is soft. “Yeah.” 

You pull Remus towards your chest when he starts weeping. He dampens your shirt while you comb your fingers through the hair at his nape, saying nothing. Steam wafts up from his tea until it doesn’t, but that’s okay; you’ll make him another cup when he’s ready. 

James and Sirius are surprised to find you when they come home. 

“Angel—” 

“Shh.” You cover one of Remus’ ears with your hand, his head in your lap. “He’s hardly slept all day.” 

James lowers his voice, setting his bag down on the floor. “When did you get here?” 

“This morning.” 

“But you were supposed to be away until tomorrow afternoon.” Sirius climbs up onto the bed. His expression goes tender as he looks down upon Remus’ sleeping face, and the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle.

You card your hand through Remus’ hair. “I didn’t want to be away from him,” you admit softly. “I understand why you want to do things without me on the night it happens, but I’d like to help before and afterwards at least.” 

Sirius’ brow pinches, his eyes narrowing cautiously. 

“When what happens?” James asks you. 

You speak softly, not wanting the words to potentially agitate Remus in his sleep. “The transformation.” 

There’s a thick pause. 

“Who told you?” Sirius asks. 

“No one had to tell me.” 

There’s a quiet chuckle from the end of the bed. James kicks his shoes off, crawling up the covers to meet you. “I told you she knew.” He gives you a kiss, soft and syrupy sweet. “Thanks for looking after him for us, sweetheart.” 

Remus grunts, coming awake. “James,” he groans. “Your knee is on my leg.” 

“Oh. Sorry, love.” James moves, then bends down to give Remus a kiss of his own. “Did our angel take good care of you today?” 

“Better than this.” 

“That’s the moon talking,” Sirius says flippantly, though the hand he uses to rub Remus’ shoulder is exceedingly gentle. “That’s something you’ll learn as we go along, gorgeous. He loves us, really.” 

You feel your brows pinch. “I thought he was as nice as always today.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters, but the look he gives Sirius is teasing. 

James gives Remus another kiss, standing. “I’ll get you some of your soup.” 

“Oh, I…” You give him a sheepish look. “I washed that down the sink. It got left out, the meat was bad. There’s tea on the stove that should help him heal faster, though, if you want to get some of that.” 

James and Sirius stare at you. 

“Seems like we should’ve brought you in on this a lot sooner,” Sirius says after a moment. 

You shrug. Remus mumbles something that sounds like agreement.

[pastryfication]

Can you please do Oscar x reader, who's birthday is coming up but she doesn't want to celebrate or acknowledge it?

I'm that way. My birthday is on the 30th. 🥺

happy birthday!!! i hope you have an amazing day, love xx

this is my gift to you ❤️🥳

birthday celebrations | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

content warnings: oscar being the perfect boyfriend.

you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of your blanket cocooning you against the world outside.

you snuggle deeper into the bed, just wanting to hide. today is your birthday, a day you’ve dreaded for as long as you can remember. birthdays have never been your thing—too much fuss, too many expectations. you’d rather it pass like any other day, quiet and unremarkable. but your boyfriend has other plans.

you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. curiosity piques, and you pull yourself out of bed, padding softly to the source of the noise.

and there he is, oscar, standing by the stove, a look of concentration on his face as he prepares your favorite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and jam. he turns, catching sight of you, and his face lights up with a smile that melts your reluctance just a little.

“happy birthday, love,” he says, coming over to kiss your forehead. you try to protest, to remind him that you don’t want a big deal made out of today, but he hushes you gently.

“just a simple breakfast,” he insists, guiding you to the table.

breakfast is a cozy affair, the two of you sitting close together at the small kitchen table. the pancakes are perfect, made exactly like you love them, and the berries are sweet and fresh. oscar keeps the conversation light, steering clear of any mention of birthdays or celebrations. he knows you too well, and it makes your heart swell with gratitude.

after breakfast, oscar insists on a lazy morning. he pulls you back to bed, rewrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and his arms. the two of you spend hours cuddling, watching your favorite shows, and simply enjoying each other's company. his constant attention and gentle touches make you feel cherished, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren't so bad when spent like this.

the day slowly unfolds in a series of small, thoughtful gestures. oscar dotes on you, bringing you tea while you read and stealing kisses when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. he suggests a walk in the park, knowing how much you love the feel of the sun on your face and the rustle of leaves underfoot, and you walk hand in hand through your favourite park.

as the evening approaches, you start to worry about what he might have planned. you’ve made it clear you don’t want a party, and oscar has always respected your wishes, but birthdays make you wary. he sees the tension in your shoulders and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“i know you don’t want a big celebration,” he murmurs into your ear, “but i thought a quiet dinner with a few of your closest friends might be nice. just us, no fuss.”

you turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. all you see is his genuine desire to make you happy, and it softens your resolve. you nod, agreeing to the dinner, trusting that he’ll keep it simple.

when your friends arrive, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, just as oscar promised. there’s no grand entrance nor any loud singing, just the comfort of familiar faces and easy conversation. you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening more than you expected. the dinner is delicious, the laughter infectious. you catch oscar’s eye across the table, and he gives you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

as the night winds down, and your friends start to leave, you realize that today hasn’t been so bad. in fact, it’s been kind of wonderful. oscar walks you to bed, his hand in yours, and you snuggle into his side, feeling a contentment you hadn’t anticipated.

“thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“for what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“for making today special,” you reply, “without making it too much.”

he smiles, pulling you closer. “anything for you, my love.”

and as you drift off to sleep, you think that maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t so terrible after all.

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SW Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose

[dreadsuitsamus]

Cute Aggression With Your Bleach Man Headcanons

author's note: this all started bc i wanted to bite kensei. also all of the banners you see in this post were created by the wonderful @actuallysaiyan!!! please give bacon lots of love, as she deserves every bit of it 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x gn!reader, grimmjow jeagerjaquez x gn!reader, renji abarai x gn!reader, byakuya kuchiki x gn!reader, kūgo ginjō x gn!reader

warnings: biting, grimmjow, mentions of alcohol, overall it's just fluff

Kensei is no stranger to receiving bites from partners. His big, muscled, veiny arms are just about the perfect target for anybody’s cute aggression!

So, surprisingly, it doesn't really bother him

This doesn't mean he understands, however

“Why are you like this?” He murmurs as you bite his bicep, having come up out of nowhere as he innocently reads in his armchair

It's not like you can be blamed!! He's the one wearing a compression tank top that makes him look a thousand times more delicious than he already is!!!

“‘ike ‘at?” Your teeth are still firmly latched into his flesh, but he does find the fact you're trying to still make conversation with him cute, and he kisses your temple before resuming his reading

Kensei Muguruma is soft and it's all your fault

And what's all his fault is being sleeveless all the time, thus provoking you!

He won't admit it, but he actually really loves when you bite him

You think he's cute :3

Admittedly, you don't often get cute aggression when you're with Grimmjow

Biting is often reserved for… Different feelings

But sometimes he's just the most adorable thing in this entire world, particularly when he's minding his own business, the demon on his shoulder having a nap and your teeth just itch for him

He's watching a movie, twirling a toothpick between his lips and is fully invested in the plot

You, however, are fully tuned into just how good his forearms look

You pounce right on him, your sharp teeth catching right onto one of those leanly muscled forearms

Your bite is rather strong, though it isn't as if Grimm doesn't deserve it

“Oi!” Grimm leaves the toothpick between his teeth as he uses his strong fingers to push your lower jaw together and release the bite. “Take me to dinner first!”

You're forced off of him quickly, and your boyfriend quickly tackles you to the floor

His bites can't exactly be chalked up to ‘cute’ aggression, though they’re certainly belligerent

Not that you mind these different feelings from him

As much as Renji tries to be cool and collected, he fails at it

The man is a bit of a klutz, and when he gets embarrassed he turns an adorable shade of pink!

So he sees more than his fair share of cute aggression from you

And goodness he doesn't get it. Which only spurs you on further!

It's movie night, and Renji’s decided to get fancy and make the popcorn on the stovetop rather than do the usual microwave popcorn

He's humming to himself, the kernels popping as if to his beat and he can't help but shimmy his hips a bit

He has got to spend less time on TikTok; he's had the same song in his head for days!

“Twin? Where have you been?” He sings, swinging his hips like they don't lie

There's a giggle from the doorway and Renji swings around, eyes wide and he knocks the lid from the pot in his haste

Popcorn begins to fly everywhere, and Renji’s socked foot slips on a bit of oil he spilled and subsequently forgot about, slamming right onto the floor

Your chest fills with love and you curl your fists before jumping on him, squeezing his face into your chest as hard as you can while layering kiss after kiss on him

The sore butt isn't very nice, but he decides he can make peace with it!

Cute isn't the first thing that comes to mind when you see your darling husband. Handsome, certainly. Refined, even. A big dork, absolutely!

Though it's during an evening tea time on the terrace when you first look at him and feel such… positive emotions that it makes your teeth clench and hands ache to pinch and squish his cheeks

He's beside you on the swing, having a sip from his teacup as the warm sun sets. His hair is silky and long, his lashes practically kissing his pale skin as he enjoys the warm tea

Your hands are already clasped together, fingers laced tightly. Byakuya can't help but run his thumb over your wedding band; it's a Kuchiki family heirloom and it's never looked better than right on your finger

And you'll swear on your life that when you brought his hand to your lips, it was just for a kiss to his knuckles

But your jaw had other plans, and that's when you oh so gently bite his hand. It isn't for long, and you do place an apologetic kiss after!

And then you realize yourself right after, and look up to find steel blue eyes staring at you with quizzical undertones

“What on earth are you doing?”

Laughing nervously, heat flushes the back of your neck. “I… I don't know. You looked so… so cute and sweet that I couldn't help myself.”

“Hm. Consider yourself, should this urge rise again. Such behavior is unbecoming of a Kuchiki, as you are aware.”

An attempt to hide how flustered and perhaps even pleased he is behind his next draw of tea is fruitless versus the pastel pink on the bridge of his nose

Despite living in a constant state of bastard, you find that Kūgo is often quite adorable!

He pouts rather habitually, though he doesn't always mean to

Whether he's rolling out pasta dough or working on his latest charcoal drawing, his lips press together in his bout of concentration, and sometimes the little pink tip of his tongue peeks out too

He loves to be on the receiving end of your overwhelming positive feelings so much that you almost think he does these things intentionally

But he's a bad actor, so it can't ever be anything but genuine

You hear some rustling downstairs and check the time: Kūgo must be home from his night out with his friends

You round the corner to see him sitting halfway up the stairs, his long body stretching out as he reaches towards you with a dopey smile on his face; he's plastered

And you want to be angry! He promised not to get drunk; you're set to have brunch with your parents tomorrow, and he's quite the bitch when he's hungover!

But then he makes the grabby hands and that pout comes to his lips, and his big brown eyes are so sad now too

“You're so cute, I wanna die.” You hop down to his level and crush him in a hug, swaying side to side as you coo, blowing a raspberry on his cheek too

Kūgo giggles at that, his cheeks turning red as he begs you to stop!

Which, of course, only continues the cycle! It takes ten minutes before you can finally get up to bed!

He's not quite as cute when he's hungover, but there's still enough of something precious in the man's pathetic, self-inflicted misery to earn him a kiss on the cheek

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: According to Baghra, there is only one person who can save her son. You—his first love and a witch who can control the powers of the Darkling. Aleksander becomes a prisoner of the Sun Summoner and King Nikolai, and you are to control and watch over him as he works for his redemption... but does he have the strength and will to continue fighting? And while everyone is busy saving Ravka from Fjerda and Shu Han, you're busy saving Aleksander from himself. Even though he doesn't want you around anymore... Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

"I don't like this," Nikolai grumbles as he, Baghra, and Alina walk deeper into the forest near Ulensk. "Wouldn't it be easier for us to just kill him?"

Alina tenses as she hears the howling of wolves nearby. She weakens her ball of light slightly and instinctively approaches Baghr. Ever since they destroyed the fold, Fjerda and Shu Han have become... more daring in their travels near the border. Something Aleksander had warned her about. She didn't want to risk running into one of the Fjerdan's stray troops.

"We are not like him. He deserves one last chance before we get rid of him." Nikolai sighs and nods. They walk in silence for a few more minutes until they finally reach a small clearing. Baghra stands, staring at one spot.

"Shine more brightly." She orders Alina and kneels down.

Baghra takes out a dagger and cuts her hand. She smears her blood across the leaves, mumbling words under her breath in old Ravkan. Alina and Nikolai look at each other uncertainly when suddenly the branches of the surrounding trees grow. They connect with each other, creating an impenetrable wall around the three of them. Nikolai reaches for his sword, and Alina instinctively reaches into her pocket for her amplifier. The fog thickens around them and the ground shakes slightly as a small wooden hut rises from beneath it.

"I'll go first." Baghra announces and stands up.

"No. We're all going together."

"She's probably not a big fan of yours, Sankta Alina." Baghra sneers, sending the girl a mocking look. "I better get her ready for you."

Alina stubbornly follows Baghra, ignoring her words and disapproving look. Nikolai reluctantly joins the two women, and so the three of them cross the threshold of the small hut.

They enter a living room full of bookshelves and various crystals. A fire burns in the fireplace, and the air smells of lavender from the incense burning on a table covered with various pots, magnifying glasses, and metal tools. The candles burn a little brighter when the door behind them suddenly closes with a loud bang.

"Millennium, and you haven't learnt to knock? Besides, I thought you hated draught." Baghra rolls her eyes at your mocking voice.

You push past the uninvited guests and sit down at the table. You sip your tea and throw the crystal into the cauldron, then set it over the fire burning in your fireplace.

"You probably know what my son has been up to lately?"

"Aleksander has always been an ambitious man. I thought we were all aware of that fact." Alina feels an unpleasant pang in her chest when you use the Darkling's true name when you refer to him. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted feelings.

"You call the creation and expansion of the fold ambitious?" Alina asks you, irritated. Baghra elbows her in the ribs, but she ignores it completely, giving you a stern, appraising look.

"And you probably think that destroying it was ambitious, right, little sunbeam?" You mock her without even looking at her. Alina doesn't like it at all.

"That was the right thing to do. That was needed to be done."

"Anything that helps you sleep better at night, sunshine. But you realise that now the Fjerdans and the rest will be entering Ravka as if it were their own land, right? If you think the fold was a problem for Grisha, just wait until all the kidnapping, rape, and experimentation on your people begins. I'd love to see what desperate move you will make next when you realise that your problems are only beginning, oh holy Sankta Alina of the Fold."

"I'm not here to discuss Ravka's future with you."

"You shouldn't be here at all." You state, and yawn boredly. You go to the fireplace and take your pot. You put it on the table and stir the dissolved crystal. You prepare a form to pour the mass, but first you add a few leaves and flowers to the substance.

"We need your help. With maintaining control over Aleksander."

"Oh really? Do you remember that time you told me to fuck off because I was of no use to you or your son?" You remind her, smirking as she clenches her teeth and fists, barely controlling her anger. "Besides, Aleksander has never been the submissive type... did it stay that way, Sankta Alina?" You almost laugh as you see the girl blush madly as she can't find her tongue at your comment.

"I… we never…"

"Oh really? Well, my mistake. And your loss." You say, winking at her and giving her a wolfish grin. Baghra clears her throat, drawing your attention for a moment.

"If you don't help us, they will kill him." You frown, setting down all your tools and turning to face the trio. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you carefully choose your next words.

“And remind me, why should I care?”

"I thought you liked your immortality." Baghra nods at your necklace. You wrap your hand around the small heart and swallow, examining her carefully.

"He told you?" You ask in shock, looking at the old woman.

"Of course not. It's Aleksander. I found out on my own." You roll your eyes and fold your arms at her accusatory tone of voice.

"Don't blame him for something you taught him yourself." You respond calmly, giving her a pointed, hard look. Baghra tenses and looks away from you to the crystals hanging above your table. The tension in the room is palpable as you both reminisce about old times.

Maybe centuries ago you managed to break through the wall Aleksander had placed around his heart and see the real him, but just as long ago as you gained access to the deepest and darkest part of him, you lost it long ago and quickly.

"Will you go with us?" Baghra growls, not meeting your eyes. You swallow hardly, thinking about it. You knew that there would come a time to right the wrongs of your past; you just didn't think it would happen so soon. Although, was 500 years a short time?

"And do I have another choice in this situation?" You sigh, knowing full well that it was time for you to join this great war the Summoners were leading.

Ravka needed you.

Aleksander needed you.

“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, placing small kisses on his neck—everywhere you can reach without taking your head off his shoulder.

You and Aleksander lie in the tent, listening to the crickets play their nightly tunes around you. You curl up against him, taking in his warmth as you both catch your breath after completing some... quite enjoyable and pleasant activities.

“How soft your skin is... just as if I were wearing the finest silk.” You snort at his words and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. You stroke his cheek with your hand, ignoring the prickly two-day stubble on his face, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

"Not that I don't appreciate your ability to fire off compliments so quickly, but I really want to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

Aleksander sighs heavily and pulls you to him. He kisses you full of passion and ardour, as if you hadn't just given yourself over to each other's desires a few minutes ago. You sigh quietly, allowing him to distract you for a moment with a heated kiss as he climbs on top of you again, trapping you in the cage of his arms.

You place your hands on his chest and reluctantly pull away from his kiss. You pull him closer to you so he rests his forehead against yours, and you inhale his scent, enjoying his closeness.

"I still remember my question, how about you?"

He sighs, playing with your hair. He closes his eyes and gives you one last, short kiss before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You sigh, lying pressed against his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. Aleksander plays with your hair, drawing patterns on your scalp with his fingers. He gathers his thoughts, pulling you closer to him and swallows hard before finally speaking again.

"I saw Ulla." You frown, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gently trace patterns on his arm with your fingertips, watching him closely as he mentions his sister.

"How is she?"

"Besides the fact that that idiot broke her heart? Very… lonely from what she told me." You sigh and press a kiss on his shoulder. He gives you a small half-smile and runs a hand through your hair.

"She needs time to heal. You'll see, you'll complain again that she and I spend too much time at the fairs and by the lakes and that she's stealing me from you." You joke, hoping to hear him chuckle, but he just sighs deeply, still haunted by thoughts of his sister.

"I asked her to return. To me. To us." He says thoughtfully and unconsciously tightens his grip on you, as if he were afraid that you might slip out of his arms at any moment.

"She didn't agree, I assume?" You ask quietly, cupping his cheek in your hand and stroking it tenderly with your thumb.

You want to give him all the physical closeness he needs. Give him every little reassurance that for now you're staying and you're not going anywhere. Or at least you hope to stay with him a little longer...

"Every person close to me, whether from my family or not, eventually leaves me. And never comes back. I'm afraid it'll be the same with her. I've buried a lot of brothers and sisters... but Ulla... it's different with her. I've taken care of her since she was a child. From the very beginning. I know she won't live as long as I, but... I'm sick of everyone leaving me."

"Ulla loves you. She won't leave you for long… I hope so."

"And would you come back to me? If we somehow got separated... would you return if I asked you to?" He asks, looking at you carefully.

In a heartbeat. You think about it, but you don't tell him. You don't want to give him false hope. Instead, you press lazy kisses along the column of his neck and jaw.

"Depends on how passionately you would ask me to…" You whisper seductively against his ear. A smirk appears on his face, and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a wicked, suggestive look.

“Greedy little thing.” He mumbles, nuzzling your cheek. His lips descend to your neck, where he sucks a hickey. You moan, exposing more of your neck to him and grinding against him.

“That’s why you love me.” You whine as he pushes you onto your back and presses his chest against yours. He cups your cheek in his hand, staring at you as if he’s trying to memorise and engrave every little detail of your face into his memory.

"I love you for more than that, little witch…" He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

A shiver of desire courses through you again. You pull him to you and kiss him passionately, digging your fingers into his shoulder as his hand wanders below your collarbone and cups your breast. He massages and kneads your body, plays with your nipple, and all you can think about is how good you feel under him, how he makes you experience pleasure so intense that you doubt you'll find it with anyone else.

You don't want to look for anything else. You want to be under him forever, intoxicated by the touch of his soft lips and rough hands as he takes you apart into tiny pieces, showing you the secrets of unimaginable and immense pleasure that makes you feel like you can't breathe anymore.

And you find yourself wanting to stop breathing if it meant that you would stay with him forever.

"From where exactly did you get your powers? Grisha are born that way, what about you? Has your family been witches for generations?" The young king of Ravka's question tears you from your thoughts.

"Why this curiosity, Your Highness?" You reply teasingly, watching him closely as you all rode horses to the capital.

You had been on the road for a few days now, and you were now leading them to one special place. Alina and Baghra, when they weren't giving you suspicious glances, were whispering to each other. Meanwhile Nikolai was trying to keep you occupied with conversation. He turned out to be a pleasant traveling companion. Not like certain women.

"A good king should take an interest in his subjects and know what kind of people live within the walls of his kingdom." His simple answer surprises you a little. The kings of his dynasty had a... completely different approach to this. Your years had taught you to distrust all monarchs, but this young king really did seem different from them all. You wondered how quickly he would fall.

"I am not your subject. I may live in Ravka, but neither I nor my family have ever sworn allegiance to the kings frim your dynasty. And we don't intend to."

"I see… so a free spirit? A woman of the world, as they call it?" You chuckle at this, shaking your head gently.

"You could say that. We sleep where we have comfortable moss under our heads, under the open sky with the stars as our guardians. I and the witches of my tribe are one with nature, with the earth, with what grows and dies on it. We are the guardians of the circle of life."

"However, not all of them decide to be in this cycle of life and follow it." Baghra points this out scathingly. You turn in your saddle to look at her for a moment.

"My immortality is no problem for Mother Nature, Baghra. Neither is yours. Nor is Aleksander's, or your little saint's. But it is in my care that the whole world does not suddenly become immortal. There is a worse evil in your shadows than you, volcra or nichevo'ya. And if I could go back in time, I would do the exact same thing… maybe just in a different way."

You shift your gaze from the old woman to the lakes before you, leading your horse onto a side path. You were not far from your destination place. You close your eyes and sigh, trying not to bring up any more memories of your past... any memories of HIM.

Yet, no matter how many years you have lived, you have never been able to contain your burning feeling of regret whenever you remembered what happened between you and Shadow Summoner.

"So? From where did you get your powers?" Nikolai pursues the topic, wanting to know the answer to his question. You run a hand through your hair and pull the hood over your head, realizing you won't get far without an answer. Autumn was coming. Cold autumn.

"The witches' coven I belong to accepts a new member every 100 years. In exchange for the powers the new witch receives from Mother Nature, she must sacrifice something."

"So what did you sacrifice? Your mortality?"

"No. She has sacrificed her ability to lie. She can only tell the truth. But do not be deceived. Even without that, she can conceal part of the truth and mislead you." Baghra answers for you. You roll your eyes at her, scanning the area. You smile when you see a familiar pine tree.

"I had a reason to do that. It was not an act of cunning on my part. I had to unless... that's not important now. Besides, I am far from a master like you, Baghra." You hear Nikolai chucklea softly as you speed up your horse. You reach the tree and dismount, sighing in relief as your feet touch the ground.

You walk to the tree and lean your hand against it. You grab one of the crystals you keep in your pocket and the dagger. You make a hole in the tree's bark and insert the crystal. You whisper a few words under your breath and sigh, feeling the wind on your skin. The water in the lake splits in half. You turn around with a small smile on your lips.

"Hello Ulla." You greet Aleksander's sister with a smile, watching Baghra turning pale from the corner of your eye as she faces the daughter she abandoned ages ago.

Best day of your life.

"How is he?" You ask Aleksander's sister when she returns from the cell they're keeping him in. The brown-haired one snorts, jumping onto your bed and taking your glass of whisky from you.

Today, your little group finally made it to the capital. The first thing Ulla did was visit her brother. She looked older than the last time you saw her. Streaks of grey hair were starting to appear on her head, and you swear you saw a few wrinkles on her face. Time had done its thing to her. Your heart ached at the thought that in 300 years, she might not be here anymore...

"Angry, frustrated, resigned. At first, I didn't recognise him at all. Those scars... and he... he doesn't have that twinkle in his eyes like he used to. Like... like he doesn't care anymore. He was excited to see me, but this... this isn't the same Aleksander he was before. I felt like a stranger was standing before me, not Sasha. Baghra was right. Something's wrong with him."

"I'll kill their little saint. And your mother." You growl completely mad at them both because of the state they brought Aleksander to and get out of your bed. You go to the closet and put on one of your grey coats, ignoring the mischievous look Ulla gives you.

"You still love him, don't you?" You roll your eyes at her and shove your hands into your pockets, making sure you have a few crystals there in case you need to use your magic.

"I forgot how much you love coming up with your conspiracy theories. Which by the way are very annoying."

"You're not answering my question." She replies with a smirk. She walks over to you and gently smooths your hair. You snort, pushing her hands away, knowing full well that she's getting you ready to meet her brother.

"It's no secret that I care about him. We spent a good few years together, almost a century if I remember correctly. Is it possible to just forget about someone like that?"

"I don't think so. You should have seen his reaction when I told him you came here with me. I thought he had a heart attack." You groan at her words, disbelieving that she was actually playing matchmaker between you and her brother right now.

"You told him?!"

"You go to him anyway. What's the problem?" She replies indignantly, walking back to your bed and laying down on it. You roll your eyes at her, and with a wave of your hand, the pillow she had under her head disappears. Ulla shouts at you angrily, and you quickly materialise the pillow in your hands and throw it at the woman.

"Because of you, I lost all the element of surprise that I could have used on him to get some information!" You growl at her angrily, grabbing and throwing away the pillow she threw at you. You jump on the bed and pin her to the mattress, laughing at her as she growls, trying to get out from under you.

"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you how he reacted to that!!" She screams from under the pillow you've started to smother her with. You lift the pillow enough to look at her face.

"How? He made those big, puppy eyes of his and asked you to free him from his cell so he could run to me and give in to his long-held passion and feelings?" You mock her as you climb off of her. You lean against the wooden bedpost, watching her try to catch her breath.

"More or less… he asked what you looked like, how you were, if we had met before… if you were with someone." She says maliciously, giving you a big, sly, wolfish smile.

"You're joking, right?" You ask her, trying to hide your surprise under a neutral, bored tone.

"No. Our Sasha wanted to know if you had someone for his place."

"Is that exactly how he put it in words?"

"Well… maybe not." She replies after a moment, running a hand through her hair. You sigh, shaking your head at her in disbelief. So many years, and sometimes she still behaved like a child.

"Ulla." You growl at her and reach for the pillow again.

"Okay, okay. No need to be violent. He asked if Baghra had also sent for you, so that you could fly in on your magic broom and stab him in the heart once and for all, or if you had found yourself a new more intersting toy, but hey, at least he was interested and asked!"

"Poor consolation."

"You know how Sasha is." You sigh in resignation at this. You bite your lip so hard that you taste your own blood on your tongue. You promised yourself that you wouldn't get your hopes up… Aleksander and you were a long-finished affair. No matter what his sister thought.

"I know him too good to have any illusion that he sees me as anything more than an enemy and a traitor." You answer and get out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to meet him.

"Where are you going?!"

"To him! A day without tormenting him is a wasted day!" You shout over your shoulder and close the door behind you.

You walk lazily through the corridors of the Grand Palace, as if deliberately prolonging the moment of seeing Aleksander, and head towards the second building in the royal courtyard. You sigh again as the majestic panorama of the Little Palace unfolds before you.

Looking at the beautiful, imposing building, you reluctantly recall the plans your Shadow Summoner made centuries ago.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming up behind him as he sits at one of the tables in the library of the town you’re staying in for a few nights.

Aleksander bounces slightly in his chair and quickly shoves his sketchbook and art supplies into his bag. You frown, wondering what he's hiding from you, when he turns to you with that damn distracting smirk on his face.

"Nothing important, milaya. Were you looking for me? Do you need anything?" He asks and walks over to you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead tenderly before he wraps his arm around your waist and starts leading you out of the library.

"Your mother was looking for you. She needs babysitters for Ulla again." You say, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent. You wrinkle your nose at the familiar scent of burning metal and sweat from his work at the forge. He laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him, making sure you don't pull away from him despite everything.

"I know, I need to take a bath. But I hope you will help me?"

"Taking a bath?" You ask suggestively, laughing as he blushes all shyly and looks at you nervously.

"No!" He almost screams and buryes his face in your hair with a groan as you continue to laugh at him. "Taking care of Ulla."

"Always. But first…" you start and reach into his bag. You pick out his sketchbook and run forward, looking for the page he was working on so furiously in the library before you spoke.

“Y/N, no!” Aleksander shouts and runs after you. A few long strides of his, and you’re pinned to the ground by him. You laugh and struggle under him, but your struggle is futile. He quickly rips the sketchbook out of your hands and puts it somewhere safe before he pins your wrists to the ground. "You can't look into it without my permission. It is... personal."

"Sorry, handsome." You say and kiss his blushing cheek. You giggle as he lets go and climbs off of you. Before he can stand up, you snuggle into his back and wrap your arms around him. Your nose brushes his ear as you whisper quietly. "But you're so secretive lately… you know I don't like to not know what's in that pretty little head of yours. If you don't want to talk, then don't, but I just want to know if everything's okay and if there's nothing steaming up under your skull."

"I'm fine… I just... I will tell you in our room in tavern." You nod at his words and grab his hand. He gives you a small smile as you both walk through town, ignoring the looks you get from passersby who witness your little skirmish.

Once you're there, Ulla runs straight to Aleksander, wrapping her little arms tightly around his legs. The little one cries into his pants, sobbing that she thought you had abandoned her. The sight breaks your heart and makes you want to cut Baghra up and roast him into little pieces.

Aleksander abandons his bag and embraces the girl in a tight embrace. He goes to one of the single beds and tries to calm her down, whispering soft words of reassurance into her ear that he will never leave her. You sigh and pick up Aleksander's bag. You put it back on the hanger and briefly consider peeking in.

You abandon the idea and head back to the two of them to join in the group hug. You silently worry about what your "boyfriend" might have come up with. You're afraid it'll be something for your ring finger.

A moment later, as Ulla falls asleep with her head on your lap, Aleksander returns with dinner for the three of you. His sketchbook is tucked under his arm.

"I want to show you something." He whispers and sets the food on the nightstand next to your double bed. He crouches down next to the sinle bed where the two of you are and opens the book. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands shaking as you take the leather-bound book from him.

"What is this?" You ask, looking closely at the outline of a grand building. It looked almost like a palace.

"I... I know this life isn't one of the best we could have... but it's still one of the best I've ever had. Of course it's all thanks to you and Ulla. I... I have a proposition before me. A very serious one. If I play my cards right, I'd like to build a place for the three of us. And for the other Grisha who are in need of their own safe place. Can you imagine? No more working in some shitty places, no more hiding our identity... it could be really nice, right?"

You sigh, gently placing Ulla's head on the pillow. You take Aleksander's hand and lead him to your bed. You both sit up slowly as you think about everything he's just told you.

"That... would be nice. But... Aleksander, this is a palace. The king would never agree; you know how he feels about us. Tell me you're not getting involved in anything dangerous." You sigh and place your hand on his cheek. He buries his face in your palm and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses a kiss to your temple before burying his nose in your hair.

"I'll be fine… but I'm tired of hiding. It's time to come out of the shadows… start using my powers and do something good not only for us, but for the other Grisha. Too many of us have died because of their stupidity."

"And I don't want your name added to that long list. Ulla needs you, and I'd rather have you alive with me, too." You mumble into his neck, holding on to him tighter.

"Is this your way of saying that you love me?" He asks teasingly, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers.

"That's my way of telling you that if you die, I'll find some damn spell or some other way to bring you back to life just so I can skin you for being such an idiot to get yourself killed."You growl quietly so as not to wake up Ulla and pull away from him to look into his eyes. Aleksander swallows, realising how true your words are.

"I'm not leaving you… not on purpose. I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I promise." He whispers and kisses you sweetly, softly, thus sealing his promise.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you. You fall onto the mattress on your back with him above you and surrender to the blissful feeling of his arms around you.

You try to enjoy this as long as you can.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door to his cell. Sankta Alina and her king Nikolai have taken pity on him enough to set up cells for him in his former general's quarters. Of course, only after they've thoroughly searched the room. Such a petty act of malice.

You take one deep breath and enter the chamber.

It's dark there. Terribly dark. You can barely see your fingers as you close the door behind you. You reach for the crystal in your pocket and pull it out, holding it like a torch. You mutter the appropriate spell under your breath, and suddenly light emanates from the gem. You sigh as you see Aleksander standing just outside the bars, already staring at you intently.

"Aleksander." You whisper, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling you get from looking at the scars on his face and the fact that he hasn't spoken or made a fucking move yet. Not even for an inch. You doubt if he even blinks once since you entered. The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate you and scare you away. "Did they cut out your tongue?" You scoff, walking up to him and giving him an equally crazy, psychopathic look.

"Will you ever learn how to knock?"

"You seem to be very aware of my presence even before I open this door. Unless you have so many guests here that you simply cannot tear yourself away from these bars?"

"Too much lately." He hisses in irritation through clenched teeth, at which you roll your eyes.

"Hmm… good thing I'm not your guest." You say sarcastically and wave your hand, teleporting one of the chairs from his cell/chamber to the other side of the bars. You sit comfortably in front of him with the light-emitting crystals in your lap and just look at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I guess if I don't do this, you'll never get out of here, so there you go. Why are you here?" He asks after a long moment of silence, sighing as he finally gives up.

"I have been given a task by Their Royal Highnesses." You scoff, watching as the frown on his forehead deepens as he ponders the hidden meaning behind your words. "Aren't you curious what it might be?"

"With their brains? No big deal, I suppose." He mocks them and steps away from the bars. He pours himself a glass of whisky and sits down at a table with maps spread out on it. You raise an eyebrow at how... convenient he is. You don't remember the guest room they assigned you having such comforts.

"Yet they have locked you up here… without powers I suppose? I cannot feel your shadows." You see his fingers tighten angrily around the glass. You make a mental note that this is clearly not a pleasant topic for him.

"Still have that pendant?" He asks, nodding at you when he spots your heart-shaped pendant. You tense up and pull your knees to your chest, blocking his view of the necklace.

"Apparently. Would I be here if I didn't have it?" You answer carefully, fully aware of the game you're playing with Aleksander now. Everything you said was meant to hurt the other, to prove that you weren't impressed at all by being in the other's presence again. Even if you both had some... strong feelings at the sight of the other, you wouldn't admit it.

All that mattered now was who would win and hit the hardest, breaking the mask of indifference that you both tried so hard to keep on your faces... although his eyes tell you a little that your presence here isn't so irritating and indifferent to him at all.

"Of course not. After all you don't have a heart of your own."

You smile, trying not to show how his words really affected you. You internally regret that he went from being the person you trusted with all your worries to someone you wouldn't let see even a glimmer of pain in your eyes.

"Ouch. That hurt. And here I tried to be nice and inform you that for now on I am your guard and I oversee your resocialization process."

"I beg you pardon?" He asks in shock as you casually play with the gem in your hands. Aleksander watches closely as the light from it reflects off your fingers, face, chin, cheeks, lips…

"Just like you heard, honey. We'll be spending more time together again, aren't you happy?" You reply with a mocking smile and watch him carefully, gauging how he reacts to this new message.

"Resocialization? Does the fact that I wanted to help Grisha make me some kind of criminal from Ketterdam?"

"Words of Sankta Alina, not mine. Your ex probably doesn't like you very much. And from what I heard, you started destroying villages. You know who used such practices, right?" At the reference to his mother, he becomes even more gloomy. You get the feeling that if he could still control his shadows, he would at that very moment engulf the room in total darkness.

"Alina is not my ex." He merely comments as he adjusts the fastenings of his all-black kefta.

"My bad."

He stares at you for a long moment. You feel your skin burn where his eyes linger a little longer. You take advantage of that time to watch him too, searching for any slight changes in him since you last saw him.

"You, of all people, are supposed to lead me to the good, righteous path? This is ridiculous." You snort, also amused by the absurdity of this situation. Out of the two of you, N had always been the more... righteous one. Ironically, you were the one who was supposed to dig up the last remnants of his morality.

"Well, for some reason they want you alive. And they want you to cooperate. I'm supposed to be… a go-between in all of this mess."

"More like an infernal messenger of the devil." You smile, shaking your head. Aleksander tries to ignore the slight flutter in his heart and the pleasant warmth spreading through him as he witnesses your smile again.

"You always knew how to give me such beautiful compliments."

"They are desperate, aren't they? Destroying the fold didn't help and now they don't know what to do and want my advice? Tell your masters it's too late now." He says, returning to the main topic. He stands up from the war table, and you see him heading deeper into his chambers, probably his bedroom. With a wave of your hand, you close the door in his face before he has a chance to leave the room.

"You know very well that I have no master over me." You tell him, standing up from the chair as he slowly turns to face you.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you Y/N?" He asks, slowly approaching you. You shiver when you hear your name on his tongue. You clench your hands behind you as he slowly approaches you. The tension in the room is immense as you both stand as close to the bars as you can.

"Well, apparently neither do you." You whisper, trying to ignore the way he smelled so wonderful, how in an instant his closeness and the warmth he radiated made you feel at home again. How much you wanted to sink back into his arms and his sheets…

"Why are you here?" He asks, but is met only by your silence and a cold gaze that almost makes him tremble. "Don't you have other things on your mind? You're not going to tell me that this is only for my sake? I know perfectly well that you wouldn't return if I asked you. So why did you listen to my mother and also bring Ulla?"

"You don't know if I would come back. You never asked." You respond, your voice barely above a quiet purr. There’s a long silence after your words. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the bars—dangerously close to your cheek.

"And are you surprised?"

"No. Actually, I am not."

You examine the scars on his face and barely manage to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between the bars and tracing them with your fingertips. Aleksander holds his breath, his lips twitching as he resists any movement under your watchful gaze.

He fights with himself not to reach for you and brush his fingers against your soft, velvety skin, or check that you're actually here in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, reminding him how dangerous you are and that he can't trust you like he did. Which doesn't change the fact that he wants it so much.

"Gently, Ivan." You frown, not understanding what he means.

"What..." You're not allowed to finish. You feel your heartbeat slow down, and you slip into unconsciousness, only noticing the red and black kefta of one of his heartrenders out of the corner of your eye.

Your vision blurs, you slowly fall asleep, and all you can see before you collapse into the heartrender's arms are Aleksander's black eyes.

The son of a bitch ordered one of his men to put you to sleep and carry you out of his cell. Bastard.

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen greet their s/o after a long tour

requested by anon: "I have a request for you : How would Seventeen react seeing you after a long time (like them being on tour, they come back and have a moment with you) ?"

notes: i liked this one a lot haha. might make an entire oneshot for one or two members if you guys end up liking it too....?

masterlist

seungcheol:

won't touch you until he's washed off the sweat and the exhaustion n the airport smell. his phone keeps vibrating with messages from members and managers and staff but he ignores all of it in favour of curling up in bed with you, asking you to tell him about everything you've done while he was away, despite you having told him everything through facetimes throughout the tour, purely bc he loves hearing your voice in person after so long

jeonghan:

collapses into your arms like all the tension is leaving his limbs all at once. cries into your shirt, tells you that he's missed you so much and he felt like he was going to positively disintegrate. whines if you laugh and call him out bc you've seen videos of him having the time of his life during tour. you have to carry him around for the rest of the day bc he will Not let go of you 

joshua:

greets you with the cheesiest grin and a "i'm home, sweetheart", fully expecting you to say "welcome home" all romance novel-style back to him. always asks for you to set up a bubble bath for him, accidentally falls asleep in it 80% of the time bc it's so warm n relaxing and has to be woken up before he disappears under the bubbles. kisses you long and soft and sweet because God, he's missed you so much

junhui:

meets up with you the day after coming back from tour bc he was basically knocked out the minute he went home n his head touched the pillow. holds your hand over the table of the coffee shop you've found yourself in, staring at you with heart eyes the entire time bc it's been so long since he's seen you in real life and he thinks you're even more beautiful than the last time he saw you

hoshi:

texts you the minute!!! the plane!!! lands!!! to let you know he's home. opens the door noisily and stands in the hallway with his arms open wide for you to just run into him and engulf him in a hug. cups your cheeks and kisses you long and hard, before pulling away to tell you he's missed you so much before leaning in to kiss you again. and again. and again and again and the door is still open but he's home and that's all that matters

wonwoo:

asks you all teasingly if you've missed him when you meet up on the agreed date three days after he's landed as you bound up to him all giddy in the park. but of course, he's missed you too, so much, and he can't take his eyes away from you as you walk hand in hand through the trees, smiling at the sound of your laugh and the warmth of your hand in his and the incredible fact that he's with you, in person, once more

woozi:

you're knocking on the door of his studio two days after he came back, bc of course he was still going to be working after coming back from an exhausting tour. lets you pull up a chair beside him to watch him work on his compositions, your hand resting on his knee, his eyes occasionally flicking to yours and giving you a smile. it's a quiet, non-dramatic thing, but it suits you well, and by his silence you can tell how glad he is to be back home to you

minghao:

you're brewing a pot of his favourite tea when he opens the door, and there's incense burning somewhere in the apartment and it's the most calm he's seen in ages. wants to wash up first so he doesn't smell so icky to you but you pull him into a chair and hand him the freshly brewed tea, insisting that he takes a moment to just sit and let time flow past him. he's smiling, softly, lovingly, because wow, he's missed you so much. 

mingyu:

does this whole dramatic fake-crying display with you the moment you open the door of your apartment after he's come back to korea as he wails rlly loudly and collapses into you while you pat his back and make equally loud sobbing sounds. tells you all the new ways the members bullied him on tour (even tho you've heard all of them already through his outraged texts) and falls asleep on your shoulder on the sofa, exhausted, but so, so comforted to be by your side again

dokyeom:

comes home with a loud clatter of keys and a joyous shout, running to find where you are. accidentally has a game of hide and seek w you bc he thinks you're in the kitchen and the bathroom and the bedroom and anywhere but the living room. finds you eventually, cries out "catch me!" before running to you and throwing his arms around you, making you fall back down onto the sofa you'd just stood up from. keeps his head in the crook of your shoulder for a solid five minutes, glad to be home to you

seungkwan:

the minute he's back in korea, he's booked a date in the next week to meet up with you bc he is just too exhausted and looks way too dishevelled to see you fresh off the plane. talks with you over coffee one fresh morning, eyes bright, hands waving animatedly, because he loves carats and he loves you. and getting to share one of his loves with his other?? for him, nothing in the world can beat that. 

vernon:

wakes up the night after he's landed to you blowing up his phone w texts bc he fell asleep right after coming home and completely forgot to tell you he'd landed. you're (jokingly) mad bc you had to find out through the news, but he makes up for it by knocking on your door not even an hour later, smiling like an idiot, asking if you'll forgive him if he cuddles you for the rest of the night. which you do, falling asleep in his arms with his fingers massaging your scalp soothingly. 

chan:

as soon as he gets home, he meets eyes with you as you're standing at the end of the hallway and suddenly you're both dropping whatever you're holding and running towards each other before colliding and falling together, arms wrapped tight around each other. he tried to lift you up and spin you around, but you crashed into him so forcefully that his knees buckled and he just held you on the floor, laughing, crying, so happy to be with you again. 

request guidelines

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober 21

Alt: Rainy Day

Pairing: Loki x gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, cuddling, pet names (my love), not beta read

Summary: When your plans for a walk get ruined, you and your boyfriend decide to have a lazy afternoon instead. Word count: 886

A/N: You don't need to have read day 11 for this (it's just a drabble!). I chose this alt because today is Stormy night and i think they follow on nicely. - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Rain pitter-pattered against the window of your apartment, rivulets of water streaming down the glass in hurried patterns.

You huff against the pane. Your breath catches on the surface of the glass making it go cloudy with condensation. The sound of the rain was soothing but the cold made you shiver. Not for long, however, as a blanket was soon draped over your shoulders. You glanced up from your seat, smiling as you met the emerald eyes of your boyfriend.

"Hey you," You chuckle as Loki’s arms wrap around you. You peck his cheek softly and he hums, squeezing you tighter. "Think we may have to raincheck our walk."

"Oh dear, what a shame." Loki smirks into your neck and you know he's not even remotely sorry. Your boyfriend prefers the indoors to the outdoors. He only went on the short walks around your apartment with you because you liked doing it. And it wasn't exactly a difficult task to go on a walk.

But Loki much preferred the rainy days with you. He never used to enjoy the rain but now he knew it meant keeping you close and keeping warm and he wished the rain would never stopped.

"My love, come to the living room." Loki pleaded softly, tugging you away from the window.

"Why? What's there?" You tease, stepping backwards and following him, his arms still wrapped around you.

"More blankets," Loki murmurs. "And fresh tea."

You enter the living room and see the display for yourself, giggling slightly with excitement and you're heart warming. Loki could be so effortlessly romantic when he wanted to be. There was a comforter piled high on the sofa with another two blankets and pillows like a poor attempt at a blanket fort. Steam billowed from a teapot on the coffee table, two mugs, a small jug of milk and a pot of sugar nestled beside it. It looked like heaven.

"All this for me?" You said sweetly, pecking his cheek again.

"All for you." Loki confirms before snapping his fingers loudly. The large unused candle on the coffee table springs to life, the flame flickering wildly and then settling to a soft crackle.

Your heart skips with delight. It looks so utterly cosy and it doesn't take you long to start dragging Loki to the sofa, burying under the blankets and settling next to him with a dreamy sigh. Loki chuckles at your soft expression and pours two mugs of tea, settling back into the sofa with a pleased smile.

"Do you like all of these pillows and blankets, my love?" He asks, peering at your face hidden in the blankets over his mug.

"They're comfy." You cosy up next to him, looking up at him from his shoulder with big, round eyes.

Loki bites back a smile. "But?" He presses.

"But," you continue with a cheeky smile. "I'd love for you to read to me too. That'd make it perfect."

Loki’s cheeks grow pink and his green eyes glimmer with joy. He waves a hand and his book apparates into his palm. Loki all but throws his mug back onto the table, freeing up his other arm to wrap around you again, bringing you closer to his chest. You chuckle as you settle onto his shoulder, curling against him under the blankets.

Loki hurriedly updates you on his book so that you know some of the characters and context, despite the fact you only care about resting on him and listening to his voice. Shortly after Loki begins to read to you, he begins to feel a little self conscious. It's only when he stops and you look at him begging him to continue that he concedes.

"You have a beautiful voice." You murmur, rubbing your face into his shirt. There was something about the cosy warmth that made you feel slightly sleepy.

"You think so?" Loki presses a tender kiss to your head, grateful you can't see how bright his cheeks are burning.

"Mmhmm," you hum, breathing in that gentle pine smell you've come to love. "I like hearing it. I thought you did too."

Loki grins down at you with a scoff. "Thank you, my love."

Your body shudders when you giggle. "I couldn't help but get one little dig. Besides, I think your voice is soothing."

"Is that a hint to continue?"

You look up at him with a beaming, albeit sleepy, smile. "Please."

Loki continues to read aloud to you, eventually stroking your head soothingly once he'd settled into a rythymn. That didn’t make you stay awake much longer; your eyes fluttered against his shirt and you short, soft breaths breathed in his scent. You fell asleep with a soft smile on your features that Loki didn't see for over an hour. He was too wrapped up in the story, focusing on reading to you unaware that you'd dozed off in his arms.

When he finally did notice, he couldn't tell if he should be offended or feel incredibly loved (leaning towards the latter). He kissed your head again and continued to read in silence next to you, letting you nap on him. His heart fluttered anytime you'd stir or huff particularly loudly in your sleep. Days like this were his favourite.

He'd have to ask Thor for favours more often.

[budbuddnbuddy]

Little obey me headcanons (pt 5)

A/n: God it’s been a while since I put out one of these things. Apologies yall, finals are terrifying but thankfully I passed all my classes, so yay! Anyways same thing as usual, though this one is mostly world building, so enjoy!

MC has an entire kitchen in their room. Bit weird to think of yes, but I just saw the dinning table in their room and the stuff behind it and it was the first thing that came to mind, the whole room is basically like an apartment but it’s no where near as big as the other brothers rooms. Also did you know that they had an entire kettle in their room???

Okay maybes it’s not a kettle more like a tea pot but you get the point, MC kitchen in room canon./hj

Mammon is infact not above stealing your stuff, has he sold any of it? No. Will you ever be getting it back? Also no. It’s been 4 years Mammon, MC wants their hoodie back.

RAD is basically the Harvard of the Devildom, of course there are other Ivy League schools throughout the realm, all ranked high in various categories and filled with various species, but if you really want to be a high ranking deadly demon then going to RAD is practically an requirement.

If you ever watched Steven Universe, you’d know that Garnet can give kisses that let you see into the future for a brief period of time. Barbatos can basically do the same thing, and can choose the amount of time that it lasts for, ranging from 3 hours to 4 days.

However it’s been MILLIONS upon MILLIONS of years since he’s done this and he’s never told anyone about it besides Diavolo, well until you of course. Just keep it a secret between the 3 of you all, will you?

Demon possession is in fact real, it’s sort of like a fucked up version of fusion, all the abilities and talents that you have can be accessed by your possessor, the strength that the two of you have is combined since like 93% of humans have no magic and it’s deadly wether you’re a human or a demon them punches are going to hit hard. Sloth demons are mainly the ones who have this ability.

If you ever get so lucky to the point where you get to me any of the Royals you MUST kiss their hand, it’s considered extremely rude and informal not to do so, doesn’t matter if it’s a woman, man, or a being with no hands at all and just a bunch of tentacles. You better find a way to kiss that damn hand. MC finds out about this by pure accident.

“Ah- Lord Diavolo, I’m sorry I didn’t even realize you were there.”

“Haha, no worries! It’s not common for most to not recognize me when I’m in the room!”

“Here, allow me to make it up to you…” *Smooch*

“…”

Typically Diavolo is very neutral when it comes to formal greetings since he technically gets them like every week but there was something about it being you giving him kisses on his hand that make him feel “butterflies in his stomach” as humans say.

Ever since then he’s demanded that you give him hand kisses every time you swag by the the Demon King’s castle, with a blush on his face of course.

There’s a three headed version of almost everything in the Devildom, it’s not just Cerberus, there’s three headed butterflies, cats, raccoons, rats (much to Barbatos dismay), and of course demons. No one knows exactly why, but most speculate it probably has something to do with the air.

No one is letting you die, there’s too many things that they want from you, too many things they want to give you, yet so little time to do so. You can scream at them, hate them forever, never talk to them again, but please for the love of god. Just don’t die.

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Fourteen - Feast

1,063 words

@noblehouseofgay

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

The phone rang once before his brother picked up. “Reg?”

“Don’t laugh,” Regulus warned him. He blew out a breath, looking at the ingredients laid out on the table. “I want to cook dinner for James.”

There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the phone.

“Sirius?”

There was a quiet clicking sound. “Yeah, sorry, I had it on mute for a second.”

Regulus’s eyes narrowed. “You were laughing at me.”

“No!” Sirius claimed. “Well. Okay, a little bit. Reggie, you know you’re wonderful at a lot of things, right? Like, absolutely brilliant.”

“…yes, I know.”

“Right,” Sirius agreed. “So, you know, you don’t have to worry about the fact that you shouldn’t try to cook. You love James too much to give him food poisoning.”

“Sirius!” Regulus growled. “I got all of the ingredients for the chili his mom used to make him from his email. But he didn’t email himself the recipe, and I’m hopeless at this kind of stuff, but it’s her birthday today and I know he misses her so I’m trying to make the meal she always made him.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Sirius replied. “Okay, now I do feel bad for laughing at you. Do you want me to text you the recipe or do you want me to talk you through it?”

“I’ll manage if you text it,” Regulus said, though in all honesty he wasn’t sure.

“Alright. Call me if you need help.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”

Two hours later - thankfully - he had a pot of chili on the stove simmering.

Exactly on time, there was a knock on the front door.

Regulus glanced anxiously at the chili before going to open it, standing back so that Remus could come inside. “Did you get everything?”

“Yeah, Sirius actually made most of it,” Remus replied, bringing the large, insulated bag to the kitchen. “Because he’s better at it. He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Regulus frowned, making a mental note to yell at his brother later. Or maybe to thank him. Maybe both, now that he thought about it. “Okay, help me set it up.”

“I know, I’m doing it,” Remus mumbled, already setting the containers down. “Okay, so -” he tapped each container as he spoke. “Homemade bread, cookies, tea, and mini cakes from Effie because she’d already made some and wanted James to have them when she heard what we were doing.”

Regulus nodded. “How did you get cakes from Mrs. Potter?”

“She hadn’t left for her cruise yet and Sirius was talking to her over the phone. He got them last night.”

He was definitely going to yell at his brother. Sirius wasn’t allowed to be thoughtful without telling him.

“And he called me sweet,” Regulus grumbled, setting everything nicely on plates. He surveyed the table when they were done, looking over everything. “I think it looks okay.”

“It looks great, Reg. Like a little feast,” Remus told him. He held up the bag. “I’m going to go before James gets here, but don’t panic, okay? You did a great job, he’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, okay.” Regulus tried not to sound anxious. “See you later.”

Remus stepped forward and gave him a quick hug. “Don’t panic.”

“I’m not,” Regulus insisted. ‘”Go home. I’ll text you later.”

The apartment felt too quiet once Remus had left. Regulus knew James would be home any minute now.

He lit candles to improve the atmosphere. Then he stirred the chili. Then he forced himself to take some deep breaths.

Eventually - finally - he heard the sound of James’s key in the door.

Regulus met him in the entryway. “James! How was work? How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” James replied, giving him a tired smile. “I called mom, wished her a happy birthday.”

“You’ll see her after her cruise,” Regulus reminded him, hating the sadness lingering over James.

James nodded. “I know. I’m happy for her, she’s really excited about the cruise.”

He’s smiling, but Regulus knows that today has been hard for him. He’s used to spending the day with his parents, and the change has been taking a toll on him for a couple of days now.

James, for all of his spontaneity and impulsivity, has routines he relies on. And spending his parents birthdays with them is one of them.

“It was a good gift,” Regulus replied. He tugged on the edge of his shirt, a little nervous. “Um. I made dinner.”

James gave him a curious look. “You made it?”

“Um. Yeah,” Regulus nodded, fully anxious now. “I made it.”

“I’m sure it’s wonderful,” James smiled, wrapping him in a hug and kissing his forehead. “Thank you for making dinner, love.”

Regulus takes another deep breath before grabbing James’s hand and leading him into the kitchen. “I knew today might be hard for you, so I asked Sirius and Remus to make some things your mom makes. And I made the chili. I got - um, I got the ingredients list from your computer and Sirius sent me the recipe. It might taste a little bit off, because I made it myself, and I’m not really a good cook.” He risked glancing at James then, and immediately panicked. “Oh, James - I’m so sorry. I’m - I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Regulus apologized, watching a tear fall down James’s cheek.

Of course this was a dumb idea. He’s probably just made James miss her more. “I’ll - I’ll order takeout, we don’t have to-”

“No,” James shook his head, giving Regulus a warm smile. “No, Reg, this is - this is incredible. I’m so grateful.”

Regulus felt like he could breathe again. “Really? You’re not upset?”

James shook his head again. “I’m so thankful. I love you so much. Do you know that? I love you.”

Regulus grinned at the words, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know.” He stepped closer, gently wiping the tears from James’s skin. “I love you. You’re really not upset?”

“I’m really not,” James reassured him. He pulled Regulus’s chair out for him. “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”

“Of course I did,” Regulus replied. He watched James smile as he took in all of the familiar foods.

The chili, thankfully, tasted perfect. And Regulus watched James smile without any sadness for the first time in days.

[junedenim]

yesterday still leaking through the roof

what comes after the storm

warnings: angst, smut, fluff, blowie, piv, cream filling (ew, i hate that i wrote it like that), etc.

word count: 4.3k

The air was bitter. You're not sure you ever felt anything as bitter before. The air was cold and your shoulder was too. In fact, both you and Alex's shoulders were cold toward one another. 

The night before had been rough—a jumbled pile of words. You ripped at one another, tore one another down, pulled each other apart, and then went to bed. After your restless sleep, where you awoke before him, you had little idea what to do next. The argument was so long and about so much that by the end you weren't even sure what you were fighting over anymore you were just fighting.

You had gotten out of bed and made coffee. Part of you wanted to be spiteful and only make enough for yourself, but you left some for him. You took your mug over to the couch and turned on the TV to a quiet volume, not that you were listening anyway, you were just thinking. It was a cluttered confusion, a mix of rehashing the night before and what you would say to him when he woke up.

You took small sips and waited. Then, he walked out, rubbing his eyes and pulling at his sweatpants. His feet were covered in the fuzzy socks that you got him for Christmas last year. He didn't look for you but he stopped at the coffee pot and seemed to notice you had left some for him. An olive branch you'd hope he'd take.

You hoped he'd speak first because even with all this extra time on your hands, you have little idea of what to say to him. He pads around the kitchen for a while, slowly pouring his coffee and looking around for something to eat. He grabs a banana, peels it, and eats it at the kitchen counter.

The gap between you two feels wider than just the distance from the couch to the kitchen counter. It feels like two different universes and you never felt that way with Alex, never in this house. A house that feels so warm, even when it's freezing and the heat isn't on.

He throws the banana peel away and picks up his coffee. He walks at a turtle speed like he's trying to decide which direction he should go in. You watch his feet, covered in that soft fuzz. They're headed toward you.

Alex sits down on the couch with a sigh. He takes a sip of his coffee. You look at him staring straight ahead at the TV as if you were a ghost, completely non-existent in this room. "What's on?" He asks, gesturing toward the television.

"I don't know." You could be saying it about everything you're feeling right now, all those feelings lingering in the room. You can't tell if his question is his version of an olive branch or if last night wasn't as big of a deal to him as it was to you. But you know that isn't true because he yelled so unlike himself last night. He was mad. You were mad. The house was mad. Everything felt like it was falling apart and now you're both just lying in the rubble, unsure what to do with this mess.

But you love this mess, even with all the wreckage. You look at him, his brown eyes staring directly away from you like he can't bear to see your eyes. He once said your eyes made him fall to pieces. He couldn't concentrate when looking into them because he couldn't do anything but look into them. It was such an emotional description from a man, unlike anything you had ever heard before. It had made sense to you before because you felt it when he looked at you. This overwhelming, unbearable feeling beating through your chest. Now, it weighs heavy, an anchor pulling your heart down to your stomach.

His eyes flick down to his coffee mug. You follow his line of vision. His finger traces around the circumference of the mug. It's the one that your dad gave him. It was dumb and dorky, the kind of gift a dad would get when he has no idea what to get someone, and it says "Let it Tea" on it because Alex is a musician and Alex is British. You laughed at it but Alex loved it. After he got it he rather emotionally told you that he loved it because it made him feel like he was a part of the family. He drinks out of it every morning.

"I don't know what to say," you tell him. "I've sat here for over an hour and I don't know what to say, Al."

He nods. His eyes were downcast, stuck in thought, looking for the answers in the cloud in his coffee. "Neither do I." He brought the mug up to his lips, sipping out of it slowly.

You place your empty mug on the coffee table and turn the TV off, not needing the murmur of it in the background. "You won't even look at me." You felt like he might never look at you again, not completely, not directly in the eyes with all that loving sincerity he holds toward you. The last time he looked at you it was bitter. It was hurtful and mean and sorrowful. Nothing about it felt like love.

He put his mug down and rubbed his hand over his face and hair as if he were trying to scrub everything away and uncover the truth somewhere inside him. "Do you want me to look at you?" You wonder if he asks because he knows the way he looks will be the same as last night and nothing has changed for him. It all still hurts.

"Yeah," you say because, even if it's painful, you'll know how he feels. It's terrifying that you have to question it.

He moves slowly, everything methodically as he lifts himself up and Alex's eyes finally meet yours. They're not bitter, but they're not loving either. They're something else: unreadable. "I'm done fighting," he announces. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I." He snickers at this, which is fair enough. You were the one who started the fight, but he was the one who kept dragging it out, who kept coming up with more reasons to stay up and fight for another hour. "Are you trying to start a fight now?" You snap at him.

He quiets himself and nods a potential apology. He leans back against the couch and crosses his arms. "I'm tired," he says, scrubbing away at his left eye.

You lean back too, slouching down into the cushions, tugging the blanket up to your chin. "Me too."

He places his hand on your shoulder, startling you. Your body grows goosebumps. You feel a rash grow underneath his handprint. "Go back to bed."

You shake your head. "No. I've been up for too long. I'm thinking too much."

"About what?" His face has changed. To the unfamiliar eye, his face looks neutral, but to you—the one who knows each pattern inside and out—he's frowning. You know each other through and through, crawled around in the muck together, and bathed in the sun, yet, at this moment it feels like he might not know you at all. Like it's your first fight all over again. This feels like it has ripped you apart but you don't want it to tear the two of you apart. His face drowns in the worry that you might think that.

You lay your head on his hand, turning your head to give a kiss to the back of his hand. It's a sacred imprint, designed to burn itself into his skin. "Like I've messed everything up."

He shakes his head. "Not everything."

His denial isn't full coverage. You know yourself that you can't deny blame for some of last night's words. You laugh, "Alright then almost everything."

Alex leans closer down to you. His head rests on the back of the couch beside you. Still, the only part of you that he touches is your shoulder on his hand with your cheek resting against him. It feels like holding heaven in the palm of your hand. He furrows his brow, squinting with worry that he might squish it between his fingers. 

He hums. Everything is so close but so far. His lips smack together in a cruel form of temptation. He painfully smiles as if you're twisting a knife inside him. "I love you." It's simple. It's always been. It isn't your shared touch that keeps you connected, it's that love balancing on a string in between you too. Like the man on the wire crossing back and forth from each of you.

You close your eyes. You breathe to take in the words, smelling the bitterness melting if only enough to thaw the space between you and him. "I love you too," you whisper back. Because that'll never fade. You can yell and bitch and fight to the death with one another but that'll be the only thing that'll remain when you both go.

He sighs, releasing a weight from the depths of him. His hand lifts, rubbing against your cheek with a tenderness that would make even the coldest of people crack open and cry. "We're not going to fight anymore," he vows.

You laugh because it's wishful thinking. You love each other so much that's why you'll fight. "Yeah, right," you remark.

He chuckles, one "Ha" at a time, his chest rising slightly. "At least not today. I don't want to do it today."

You nod in agreement. Your head turns to kiss the palm of his hand. Your fingers wrap around the wrist, holding his hand to your chest. "What do you want to do today?" It's salacious as you move his hand to hover above your nipple, tempting him to squeeze your breast.

"Aren't you tired?" He asks as he comes closer and closer. You shake your head with a smile. "Too cold?" You shake again. He inches closer. "Too angry?" You shake again. He inches closer. "Too hungry?" You shake again. He inches closer. "Too tired?"

"You already said—" His lips are the finest feeling of them all. It makes you understand why lips were invented, solely for his to touch yours. It's divine. His hand comes back to your cheek and he holds it tight, desperate to keep a hold of you and never let go. There would never be a reason to let go of this. 

His body overtakes you, covering you, consuming you. His hands move down, smoothing down your body like you're a stick of butter melting in his hands. He grips the sides of you, squeezing your hips. You wrap your legs around him, pushing him into you. You'd absorb him if you could, take him into you, and force him to stay there forever, not that he'd mind one bit.

He pushes his arms under you, stuffing them in the space between your back and the couch cushions. He raises you up gradually like this is a ballet and you've died in his arms. He kneels on the couch as you wrap your arms around his neck. He places one foot on the floor before fully lifting you. It's far more romantic-seeming than when you usually have sex but every time his body meets yours it is romantic.

The air around you is freezing but his body against your skin is the bonfire that keeps you alive. Alex moves quickly to escape the cold air. He lays you onto your unmade bed, covering you once more.

Even though the temperature gives you frostbite, you break away from kissing him to take his shirt off before taking off your own. This captures him even more. His eyes are dark and glazed staring down at your breasts. Your nipples are hard from the cold air and his dick is hard. It's easy to tell through his sweatpants.

He doesn't move his mouth to your boobs right away, instead taking a bite out of your neck. His hands, which are somehow warm, move up from your waist, scratching along your ribcage before squeezing your boob in his hand. The surprise when he takes your nipple in between his fingers makes you moan and you feel him smile against your neck. 

"See. I know how to make it up to you," he says. He tends to get really cocky during sex. Every sound that ripples out of you helps him stand up straight and spurs him on to get more of those sounds out of your lips. You don't mind, in fact, it probably turns you on more. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

You shush him and take to running your fingers through his hair. He moves his mouth down, stopping momentarily to kiss your collarbone twice before his lips land on your other breast. He likes this the most because he says he can't do it in public, which you still find funny because he can't do a lot of things to you in public, but he reasons he can grab your ass in public and no one will care, well, except your mother, who caught him grabbing your ass one time. She didn't care either but Alex was mortified by it.

"Al," you say. He hums against your areola. "I'm cold."

He lifts himself, looking dazed as if he was hypnotized by your breasts. "Get under the covers, love."

You sit up, crawling upward to the head of the bed. He takes the opportunity to slap your ass because it's right there, still covered in your pajama bottoms and you know he can't resist. You don't even deem a glance back at him, rolling your eyes as you pull the blanket down.

"Take your pants off first," he instructs.

You smile as you sit up against the headboard and pull the blankets over your lap. He stands with his hands on his hips at the foot of the bed. "You take your pants off first," you counter.

Alex slaps his forehead. "Oh, no, another argument!" He's so dramatic but can't play the role to save his life, already breaking character to chuckle to himself.

"Shut up," you say as you reach down to your waistband and pull both your bottoms and your underwear off. He catches a glimpse of your underwear as you toss the clothes off the side of the bed, but you hide your valuables under the blanket.

In one swipe, he takes his sweatpants off before tackling you at the top of the bed. The blanket separates you as he begins to kiss you again. "Get under," you tell him, lifting the blanket on his side of the bed.

He rolls over, tucking himself in. You lay side-by-side until he situates himself before you move over to lay on top of him. "Hi," he says as he pets your hair down on your head.

You kiss his bare chest, starting at his throat and working your way down the column of him, stopping briefly at the sternum, checking in on his pecks, before riding down his stomach and stopping to lift the blanket behind you. You cover both you and his dick to allow some precious alone time.

"Oh, come on," he says, "I want to see you do it."

You hold the blanket down to prevent him from lifting it. You touch his shaft and he shivers under the touch of your cold hands. "Sorry."

"No, no, feels good," he promises. He's always had a desire for painful pleasure. He won't say it flat-out but he likes the torturous feeling when you leave him waiting, when you turn him on and refuse further release, when he suffers all day. He could very well relieve himself but he chooses not to because it doesn't feel as good as this. Nothing comes close to the payoff.

You kiss the head and slide your tongue back and forth over to slit, something that makes him tense up. You cover the head with your mouth and suck on it making him breathe through his teeth. You cover him with your hands, rounding the palm, making love to just the top part of his dick.

"I feel like I'm a teenager again," he says with a slight laugh to his tone.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because you're hiding on the blanket," he says, tapping the top of your head softly over the covers. "I feel like we're playing it safe in case my mum walks into the room. Guess we should've done this last time we were at my parents' place."

You let go of him and peek out from the covers, only revealing your face. "We said we're never going to talk about that again."

He lifts his hands up in defense. "Sorry, sorry." But he's laughing, so amused by how much it gets under your skin. It gets under his skin too, freaks him out that the last time you visited his parents his mum walked in on you topless on top of her son. You thank god every day that you weren't completely in the throes of sex yet, just on your way to getting there. 

Alex reaches out to touch your cheek but you go back into your blanket cave, returning to your holy grail. You touch him and quickly take him into your mouth. It takes Alex off-guard. It makes him moan. Loudly. You smile into his dick. You push down to reach the bottom of him, to rub your nose along the skin of his pelvis. He's so lovely.

You can hear him scrunch his hands on the sheets of the bed. This would usually be the part during the blowjob where he would take ahold of your hair but he can't do that and now he's desperate to find something else to grip onto, to keep him from floating away.

You remove your mouth from him with a pop. You run your hand up and down his junk before he says, "Get on top of me now. Please." It's said in despair, so deeply in need of that release that it's hurting him inside. "Come on out now."

His hand snakes under the blankets and grabs your arm, pulling you up out of the covers. You crawl upward to meet his lips, kissing him briefly if only to give him a small taste of himself. "Do you want me to be on top?" He asks because this is about you too, even if he's about to burst inside, he feels shameful for not giving you the same pleasure.

You'd like to please him too but the blowjob was your groveling and maybe having him be on top and do all the work will be his groveling. You nod and flip off of him onto your back. He joins you soon after, trying his best at foreplay, even if it's rushed as he kisses your neck and runs his cock through your folds.

But then he makes it slow, sliding into you at just the right speed to both savour it and want to claw him alive. You put your hands on his back and slide them over his shoulders to pull him in closer, bringing him to you, bringing him into you. You want this all the time. "I've decided," you say.

"Decided what?" He asks you, a moan tipping off the end of his sentence as he reaches the bottom of you. He tucks his head into your neck to hold onto some of this comfort because you're not sure either of you will ever feel this warm again.

"We're going to live like this," you say as you kiss the top of his head. You love him like this. When he curls up to you like this and isn't afraid to feel small. He told you once he liked the feeling of you holding him, of breathing in your perfume after a whole day of wearing it and falling asleep, forgetting about anything else. It tends to happen when he's out all day and just makes it home in time before you turn off all the lights with the exception of the living room lamp, which you always leave on for him. You said to him it means I love you just in a different language.

He chuckles into you. "With me inside you?"

"Yeah," you smile, biting your lip and trying to hide it, even though there is no one else here to see it. "Isn't it the best feeling in the world?"

You know he's smiling as he kisses one small kiss on the side of your neck. "I think so. Who wouldn't want to be this close to you?" He lifts his head to look down at you. He looks so clearly into your eyes that you almost think he's X-raying you.

You laugh. "A lot of people. But that's why it's only for you." You tap the tip of his nose and he squishes it up, carving a million lines into it. He's the cutest thing ever and you think you might die right here, underneath him in the most glorious way a person can go.

"Only for me," he says to himself like some comforting mantra. It helps a lot after the words said the night before. This is an assured thing no matter what you hurl at one another, there's no leaving this behind.

Alex drops his head back down and you sigh because it's so nice but impatience is growing. "Al." He hums. "Can you fuck me now and do that later?"

He laughs, rather boisterously. His hips buck slightly as he's so turned on by the vulgarity you’re spewing. He lifts himself, towering over you. "Alright, missy."

He begins to thrust in your established rhythm, one you set in stone many fuckings ago. It's perfect because he knows exactly how to start, exactly how to spur you on, and have you clinging for more.

You circle your arms around his neck and pull him closer for body heat. You moan up to his ear and cause him to buck harder, always hitting the right spot. He's got it down so good it's a science and it kind of blows your mind how good you both are at this. Sex was never hard and you had experienced some bad sex in your lifetime, especially right before you met him. You once asked him if it was weird that the first time you knew you'd spend the rest of your life with him was when he made you come. He said no because he knows he's just that good in bed. You rolled your eyes and he became serious and said that's when he felt it too because nothing could ever be better than this.

He pushes further, quickening the pace. You can tell he wants this to last longer but he's so eager for that release. So, you command him, "Harder."

And when he says, "Fuck" in return, you can tell you picked the right path. It's not rough but it isn't gentle lovemaking. It's about release now for both of you. He knows exactly what's right as he slides his hand down in between and plays you just right, moving his fingers along your clit.

You moan again and he groans. It's close. Everything is close. He does everything to make you tense up and let go first because that's the way he likes it. He pinches your clit in between his fingers and you never thought that would feel so pleasurable until he did it and you were throwing your head back and coming.

That's right around when he grunts and decides he's had enough for himself and he lets go, emptying into you. He pants and drops his head back into the crook of your neck. "I love doing that," Alex says.

You giggle and drop your hand on the back of his head. "Good. Me too."

The room feels hot now with how fast you both moved and how fast you both are breathing now. You stay tangled with him buried deep in your cave and you scratch the back of his head to give him that final pleasure.

It's quiet for a while minus the recovery panting and the sound of your fingers moving through his hair. At one point you think he falls asleep. At another point, you think you fall asleep. But then he lifts his head and says, "I guess it's time for me to take myself out of you."

"It's fine," you say with the hope of him staying there a little longer.

But he removes himself anyway and tells you, "I gotta pee, love." He rushes off to the bathroom while you laugh, feeling him spill from you. You guess you have to get up too.

You go into the bathroom while he is still peeing, his head thrown back with pleasure so similar to when he comes that it makes you laugh, alerting him of your presence. "Toilet paper," you say as you stand behind his bare body and reach around for a few sheets.

He nods and finishes up while you rub the dripping mess off of you. "Don't like me hanging around in you all day." He doesn't mind, other than the fact he likes when he fucks you, and some of his cum from the last time is still in there.

You throw the mess away as he moves to brush his teeth. "I have other things to do today."

Alex suggestively smirks. "Like what?"

You shrug. "Eat breakfast."

"Hm, what do you want?"

"I don't know. You can decide."

He smiles so bright you think a spark might fly off his teeth. "Okay."

You’re both nude, well, minus those fuzzy socks still on Alex’s feet. Maybe you’ll talk about last night later but for now, this is fine.

*

a/n: i'm done school!! well, for a month, but i plan to be writing a whole lot more as much as the holiday season will allow. i have one long fic idea that i am writing now that i hope will be out before christmas but we'll see. anyway, thanks!

[metalomagnetic]

Hi metalo! How are you? Hope your injury is getting better.

I wanted to ask if you had any scenes for Cannis Major, where V sees Sirius making an effort to support or show care to V. Like when Sirius tried to make tea for him when he was pissed off. Or took him to Black Manor and shared his childhood with him and maybe any other time where Sirius is obviously in love and showing it (whether V realises it or not)

Unfortunately, my injury got worse, but now it's slowly getting better again. I don't know what beef life has with me, but I hope it gives me some relief, eventually.

Let me look in my folder of all the deleted Canis Major scenes! I'm pretty sure I wrote something about the tea scene! Please don't mind if it's rough, I struggle to edit properly today.

There it is! Hope you enjoy it, even if it is a bit whimsy.

***

When he enters the house, he hears loud banging from the kitchen; he just managed to get his anger under control, but it's awakening again when he goes to investigate and see the mess- no, the destruction- Sirius managed, and in such a short time, too.

Pots, pans, plates, thrown around everywhere. Even the cutlery drawer is open and ravaged.

It puts Voldemort on edge, that part of his brain that cannot stand disorder.

"What are you doing?"

Sirius kicks a cabinet with his foot, trying to close it. It won't, because he shoved too many things inside it.

"I'm making you tea," he barks. "But your furniture refuses to cooperate."

Voldemort's dark mood vanishes, on the spot. Suddenly, the mess doesn't make him want to strangle Sirius, but amuses him, instead.

He's most amused that Sirius thought a cup of tea would calm Voldemort's anger, as if he's a moody old grandmother only appeased by tea and jam.

Bellatrix is the same; when she notices he is tired, or displeased, she offers him tea. But even she has the good sense not to think of it when Voldemort is in a rage.

Yet the fact that Sirius attempted it, nevertheless, that he wanted to lighten Voldemort's mood...

And it's not because he fears Voldemort's anger, no. This isn't motivated by fear.

"Go on, then. Make tea."

He tries. It only makes Voldemort smile wider. He doesn't know why this makes him smile, this level of incompetence was never something to amuse him, but Sirius- well, everything looks good on Sirius, even failing to boil water.

Sirius is a talented portioneer, but somehow it doesn't translate to the kitchen, even if these skills usually overlap. Perhaps this is the first time he is actually using a stove, because it seems to confuse him greatly.

"Spoiled, rich brat," Voldemort mutters, but it's with fondness, instead of his usual disdain for purebloods raised in luxury, with house elves to serve their every need.

He takes pity on Sirius- and on his kitchen- so he takes over, removing Sirius from the stove before he burns down the house.

When he serves the tea, and he's done cleaning up, Sirius frowns at his cup.

"I don't understand how you make it so good."

He remembers Sirius claiming he isn't a fan of tea, unless it's spiked with alcohol. But that was long ago, when they only just met.

These days, Sirius never refuses when Voldemort offers, even if he only adds a splash of milk to it, and not an ounce of vodka.

"It's made with love," Voldemort drawls, and Sirius rolls his eyes.

He watches Sirius enjoy the beverage. Voldemort doesn't quite taste his own. Hasn't, in a long time, but he still enjoys it because at least it's hot, and it warms him, even if there's only a hint of flavour, like it's the case with everything he eats or drinks.

He finds himself wondering, in case Sirius would have managed brewing it, if Voldemort would have tasted something, then. If he'd have found it better, if some Sirius-like essence would have transferred to the tea, and made Voldemort actually taste it.

[ghostieyanyan]

If you don’t mind, which yandere twst boys do you see being most likely to exploit a mentally exhausted prefect to kidnap them?

To clarify, I think it can be argued that the prefect would be absolutely done with NRC after six life-or-death situations due to the overblots on top of being forced to adapt to education system of another world and putting up with the quality of students at NRC. You can’t tell me that a school full of villains would treat the only magicless student well. That just screams prime opportunity to manipulate the prefect into leaving NRC to go somewhere “safer” with one of the boys.

Once again, I’m just curious about your thoughts so don’t feel pressured to respond!

yes yes yes!!!

poor perfect tired to the bone from crowly and the other students. if only there was a knight and shining armor that can come and save them.

No longer an accidentally post! But I mean it did help me finish it lol

~Mental-Exhausted!Mc~

Yan!Riddle x mc

Yan!Leona x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Yan!Lilia x mc

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, drug use (shrink potion), abusive behavior, chains, collar, gag, parenthood (gender-neutual), gritting teeth(?) (I know some people hate it so ill put it in here), not a lot of proof-reads,

~~~~~

Riddle

yes, riddle was the first overblot (technically) and after his overblot, he felt awful about how he behaved. he was supposed to look after Heartslaybu but he ended up becoming his mother. he hated himself for that.

So now, not only is he taking better care of his dorm, with the help of his dorm. but whenever he sees you, he tries his best to check up on you.

How are you? Do you need help with any school assignments? etc.

they all had sweet intents at first but over time, you started to look drain.. like the life was sucked right out of you. when he asked ace and deuce, they confirmed that you were just tired of all the overblots and being crowley's lap dog. if only he knew how to help you...

at first he asked, trey and cater about how he should help you. they were mature enough to know, right?

cater, being cater, teased him on "having a crush on the perfect" or how he phrased it "oooohhh you are down bad!! lol" whatever that means...

Trey said that maybe ask the perfect if they do need help. but Riddle knows the perfect, they'll say they're fine even when they're not..

riddle felt lost and swallowed his pride as he dials his mother's number.

his mother was furious with the fact that riddle was facing an issue he cant fix himself but what she said about perfect shocked him.

"well.. maybe if this perfect isn't as perfect as their title, maybe they don't belong in Night Raven College!"

with that... the call ended.

now that he wasn't being held by his mother's strings, he saw red...! no one talks about his perfect like that! but.. she has a point.. (which makes him more frustrated) if perfect is miserable here... maybe they shouldn't be attending NRC. but where would they go...?

when he thought about that, he realized he didn't really want to be away from you... you mean too much to him.

so later that day, he requested you to join him in his room, he need to talk to you. you agreed cause why would you be cautious with someone you trust, plus you were too tired to worry about how strange the request was. he gave you tea and asked if you were okay.. you said yes, just stressed with some classes and drank you tea. it tasted... off.

you feel yourself shrinking.. you were shrinking!

you looked at riddle and he was just smiling at you! he picked you up and placed you into a tea pot.

"it'll be okay, my dear. once i graduate and get us a nice home, we'll live our happy lives away from this stress and... toxic poison. But for now, you'll have to behave. i love you, my dear"

~~~~~

Leona

Whether you noticed him or not, Leona watches you run back and forth, from hallway to hallway. Kinda like a mouse running around for food but also staying hidden. Sometimes your running around helps him sleep or just ease him to a zen.

He'd normally wouldn't bat an eye because you're just a lap dog for that crow. But after time has past. He watched as you get slower, more exhausted. like you're pushing to prove something. It ercked him more than he would like. It hit too close to home for him.

When he finally was able to approach you on the matter, you looked like your soul was taken from you. Something within just snapped. He had enough of this. He made the call and suddenly, savanaclaw students came to your side and dragged you to leona's room. If you try to resist, Leona lucky told them to not hurt you too badly. But accidents happens. With their rough handling, you blacked out.

You wake up with a pretty collar around your neck and a chain attach to it? You look around and this is not your ramshackle room. You tried to sit up for a better look and get quick pulled down by the chain collar. It nearly broke your neck! But Leona would say you're being dramatic.

"Quick moving, im trying to sleep.."

You looked and saw Leona. He was laying on your chest and his legs were holding your legs down. He was like a strange weighted blanket. He wasn't in his school uniform but looks like he's in home attire?

"Where are we, leona..?"

You said, scared cause your literally in the hands of a lion that could kill you really quick..

He ears twitched and he looked up at you, bored. But he let out a smirk.

"Were home~"

It took you a minute to process what he said... home? Apparently your confused was evident on your face and leona let out a long sigh. He moved or above you, pining you down.

"Were at Sunset Savanna palace and WE are both gonna be staying here until I can trust you'll be a good obedient herbivore and stay by my side."

You were lost for words and unconsciously started to struggle under leona. Trying to push him off, kicking your legs, he got really annoyed when you accidentally pinched his tail with the bed and your foot.

His retaliation was to slam you down, knocking the wind out of your lungs. As you were gasping for air, he bit you really hard on your throat. You let out a silent scream. You thought you were going to die. This was your last moment of life.

Leona eventually let's go but quickly replacing his fangs with his hand.

"You WILL be obedient... do I make myself clear.."

That wasn't a question.. it was a demand.

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hardly noticed you.. PERIOD.

He's busy not only taking care of scarabia but also their housewarden. While his housewarden takes the credit.. he hated it. And the fact his housewarden is so happy go lucky to him too. Makes his blood boil!!

Jamil truly believed that no one would feel his pain, his struggles.. because everyone sees Kalim "success" before anything!

You and Jamil were in the housewarden meeting, well on the outside of the office during the meeting. Jamil had to be there because Kalim and you were there for Crowley...

You both had a quick moment until you asked him hows he been? He lends his head back against the wall and sighs. You laugh at his actions.

"I get that, hehe"

His eye twitched.

"Do you now..?"

"Heh.. I really do. I'm here for Crowley, even tho he's the Headmage. He's like a spoiled brat with responsibility... and HE knowing more about this world, and the work he does for it, more than I do. But nooo... he still gives it to me!"

Jamil stares at you as you vent about your stress and struggles in NRC. He honestly thought that your life is harder than his! How on the seven do you-?

The doors to the office opens and you and jamil both stand up. The other housewardens walked off and kalim ran to jamil, like a parent picking up their kid in kindergarten.

Jamil sighs, seeing kalim's face makes him exhausting... he quickly looks at you, not turning his head to not make it obvious. You were walking into Crowley's office as he hands you a big stack of papers. He practically saw the light in your eyes fade... he HAS to do something.. but what?

A few days past and he just watched you get more exhausted. The more he watches you the more his feelings for you grows. And the more he watched you get degraded the more he wants to set the world on fire for you..

You couldn't hold a conversation as long as you use to now! What is Crowley making you do?

His hand balled into fist. Then he get an idea.. he's always wanted to do this but never thought about it, there will be come changes to the plan with you in it but it could work!

It was in the evening and he stopped by the Ramshackle dorm. With shaking hands he knocked. He can't believe he's gonna do it.

You answer and he quick took out a cloth from his pocket and covered your mouth. Your struggles were pointless with his strength and your muffled screams wasn't going to be heard by anyone since you practically lived in the middle of nowhere. You went limp and he smile grew.

You woke up, chained, gaged, and blindfolded. You didn't know where you were you were so scared.. but you hear foot steps...

"Good morning, my little desert flower~ im sorry I had to contain you like this, I can't risk anymore seeing you. But once we leave the Isle of Sages, ill let you see."

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia has been watching you since that first day you came here. How much chaos your presence cause, not including Grims presence, was amazing.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something for you after that first day.

Whenever you're doing anything, he watches. And if hes busy, he has his bats watch you instead. They'll report any and everything about you. Including the dark circles appear under your eyes.

To say he was a little pissed... was an understandment. How dare the Crow hurt someone he cared for..

Lilia had half a mind to just get rid of Crowley with a big display of his remand.. but his kids will be scar so probably not.

He'd would think about if for a bit and told himself, why not just take you to live in Briar Valley? You could live there and he'd support you and care for you. You have a caring personal type with how much you take care of those first years.

You'll make a perfect parent...

Lilia stopped by Ramshackle dorm for a "surprised visit". You thought his strange behavior was just lilia being a strange guy? Meanwhile lilia felt like he was young again when he's with you. He felt shy and anxious. He was all fidgety and not making 100% eye contact with you.

Oh by the seven, you stir something within him and its not unwelcomed.

"Lilia? I don't mean to be rude but.. umm... why are you here..? You kinda came at a bad time.. Crowley has some paper work he wants me to fill out for him.."

Lilia fidgeting stop and if you had his super hear, you'd hear him grit his teeth for a moment.

He flips around suddenly and gets a unsettling smile.

"I came because I just remembered a old story and I wanted to tell someone before it slips my mind!"

You stared at Lilia but nodded for him to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you about the story of the Thorn Fairy? And how she put a curse on this cute little human~?"

With every word he spoke, he got closer to you.. you tried to make some distance but it quickly was put to a halt when lilia grabbed your arm.

"L-ilia.. You're hurting me.."

You tried to pull away but nothing can compete with Lilia's strength.

"Did I also tell you that with skill and focus, a powerful mage, can change the effect of such a powerful spell~?"

You're particularly trembling at this point. He got up really close to you and he shows you a small sewing needle.

"I promise, it won't be too long. Just long enough for everyone to stop looking for you~"

{I didn’t give Lilia an art piece because I drew something similar already}

[piastriesque]

stuck on us fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x reader

⤷warnings: none

⤷summary: fernando struggles after you both broke up

⤷word count: 731

note: sorry for any mistakes!

Fernando sighed. Why did he have to wake up just at that moment? He knew that even if he succeeded in falling asleep, he wouldn’t return to that pleasant dream. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall the scene. The man sighed once again. He stared at the left side of the bed. The mattress didn’t bend from the weight of someone's body. He moved a little closer, as he usually did, to kiss you good morning. Unfortunately, there was no familiar face resting on the pillow. Nor was there a trace of your scent. The only noticeable, albeit subtle, smell was that of washing powder. He still couldn't get over the fact that for some time your face had only haunted him in his dreams.

After he finally managed to get out of bed, he decided to make himself a coffee. You didn't like coffee, you preferred tea. Even so, you only drank a glass of water in the morning because you had read that one shouldn't drink caffeine right after waking up. You were selective regarding healthy habits, but you stuck to that. In the morning, you cooked breakfast together. Now and then one person would cook to surprise the other, but you usually got up at a similar time. Then you ate together, discussing your plans for today and joking around. Sometimes he was the only one who ate if you had to get up early that day because you weren't able to swallow anything before 8 am. In this case, he made sure you took food with you to work. Sometimes… Damn, Why was he doing it again? Why did he keep bringing it up, why did he keep thinking about it? Who cares what you had for breakfast? He certainly shouldn't anymore. Maybe at that very moment, you were having breakfast with your new, stupid… You were probably smiling brightly while… Ugh.

After morning coffee and breakfast, Fernando was about to take a shower. He was choosing what to wear. He was just about to grab a random black T-shirt when he saw one with an Aston Martin logo. It wasn't his, but yours. It was a little too big for you. You wondered if he purposely picked such a size, but he always evaded the answer by laughing. (It didn't matter now, but he could admit that he did it on purpose. He knew you would look great in it.) Why didn't you take it with you? What should he do with it now? Fernando sat in an armchair and stared at the T-shirt for some time, immersed in his thoughts. He finally got up, threw it in the closet, and went to wash up, hoping the hot water would clarify the situation.

Fernando headed towards the living room in search of something, unfortunately, as soon as he crossed the threshold, he forgot what. He stood in the middle of the room and looked around with the false hope that he would remember why he had come here. Instead, he thought about how empty the place seemed after you moved out. All the decorations, the flowers in pots and vases, the hair ties you left in random places, after a while ceased to attract his attention, they were something ordinary to him. Now that you took them with you, he realized how positively they contributed to the atmosphere of the house. Sure, it was still nice and well-kept, but it wasn't a home. Just a house.

The Spaniard wondered what you were doing now. At this point, he regretted that you were a very private person, and he couldn't check social media to find out anything. If the situation were reversed, you would have no problem learning something about him from the internet. He wondered if you were thinking about him too. At least occasionally. Even if you didn't miss him, maybe, at least out of curiosity, you occasionally looked at his Instagram. Or perhaps you've closed the chapter completely and haven't looked back.

Isn't it strange that someone who at one point was in every nook of every word, every page of your story, is now just a previous chapter? It seems that the only thing that is forever is change. He laughed lightly at what cheesy sentences were coming into his mind.

“Happy anniversary, I guess,” he said to himself.

[yelenasdiary]

Maybe for Fluff Friday. Any chance of seeing maybe y/n overworking herself to the point of exhaustion, forgetting to get her vaccines and ending up with the flu but insists on working through. Cue Natasha stepping in to take care of her to the surprise of the team since Nat’s been cold towards her ever since she joined the Avengers not long ago?

Holiday Spirit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Avenger! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Christmas was approaching and with the stress of being an Avenger and trying to remember to keep up with things outside of work such as vaccinations, you became sick with the last person you thought would take it soon themselves to take care of you.

Warnings:Fluff/Comfort, No Warnings | 1.1K

AC:Something a little different for the holidays! Thank you for sending this 🥰

Holiday Special Masterlist

It wasn't like you to forget to keep up with your vaccinations but this year just slipped through your fingers, apparently there were more aliens wanting to threaten earth than ever before. You were able to get most yearly vaccinations but missed one that you now wish you didn't forget. 

With Christmas just a week away, you come down with the flu. Body aches, blocked nose, headaches, fever, sore throat, chills, congestion & fatigue all rolled into one, taking its toll on you, but you swore not to let it stop you from doing your job. Since joining the Avengers, you've worked your arse off in training and missions to prove yourself to the team. Everybody loved and trusted you, there wasn't any reason to prove yourself but you never felt like everybody was on board with you joining the team. 

Natasha Romanoff, aka, Black Widow. She was rather cold towards you, sly looks thrown your way whenever you spoke up in mission briefings, barely taking to you whenever working together and would often leave the room shortly after you entered. Everybody told you that Nat just takes some time to warm up, to adjust to a new member and that she'd come around eventually but that was well over six months ago and you were sure the assassin just simply didn't like you. 

You started your day with a hot mug of tea, something you always enjoyed better whenever you were sick, you had some oatmeal for breakfast before hitting the gym for a very slow and painful training session before taking a hot shower that felt like heaven on your aching body. Next it was time to catch up on a load of mission reports that you'd been too busy to get too, you made another tea and made yourself as comfortable as you could be in the compounds study. 

It wasn't long until your eyes got heavy and you were struggling to keep your head up, weak and tired you began to feel how exhausted and burnt out your body was. Natasha had watched you all morning, following her eyes at your stupidity for not spending the day in bed. She noticed that you hadn't eaten since breakfast and decided to make you something. 

"Since when did you cook something that wasn't microwaveable?" Clint asked when he saw Natasha stirring a large pot of soup on the stove. Nat rolled her eyes, "Y/n's sick" she replied. Clint frowned slightly, "so you're making them soup?" He asked.

"Soup helps, they're sick, pretty sure it adds up" the assassin spoke rather bluntly.

Clint quickly picked up that Nat wasn't open for discussion on the topic, she had never expressed her thoughts about you besides the fact she didn't think the team needed a new member but Clint knew that Natasha was impressed with your skills, she just wouldn't admit it. 

"Okay, enough of that, get up" you heard Natasha's voice behind you. 

"Huh? Oh, no, I have so much left to do" you replied, trying to shake the tiredness in your voice. 

"You're not doing anybody any favours by working yourself to the ground. You're sick, you've got the flu. Let your body rest" she explained before placing a bowl of hot soup in front of you, "eat this then it's off to bed" she added. You felt rather confused on her odd behavior, why out of everybody did Natasha care that you were sick? 

"Thanks Nat, I really appreciate this but I'm not really hungry" you slightly pushed the bowl to the side. 

"You've barely eaten, this isn't up for discussion" Natasha replied sternly, her arms crossed over her chest. From what you could smell through your stuffy nose, the soup smelt delicious and made your stomach grumble. You looked up at Natasha who wasn't going to take no for an answer, grabbed the spoon and started eating. 

The warm goodness hitting the back of your throat gave an almost instant relief to your swollen tonsils and it had just enough spice to it that you felt your nose begin to run. Natasha handed you a tissue and placed some cold and flu tablets on the table before taking a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room. She watched to make sure you eat everything you could that was in the bowl. Wiping your mouth on a fresh issue, you looked over to the redhead. 

"Thank you, I guess I really needed that" you smiled softly. 

"Your body needs rest, why are you fighting that?" Natasha asked.

"I've never left a silly cold get the better of me, besides I have things I need to catch up on" you explained but Natasha could see through your words. 

"You've already earned your spot in the team y/n, you don't have to prove yourself" she spoke, your eyes dropped to the unfinished mission report in front of you. 

"But I do" you replied, "to you, I do" you added. Natasha frowned at your honesty, "you have nothing to prove to me, not anymore" 

Slowly, your eyes looked up at her trying to read if she was just saying that to make you feel better. "You've ignored everybody telling you to stay in bed and recover, you've ignored your body's need for rest, you put everything else before yourself. You work hard, you train hard, you don't leave anybody behind, for once, let somebody take care of you" the assassin went on. 

"If I'm being honest, Nat, I've always felt like you don't like me or even what me on the team" you replied before blowing your nose and downing two tablets, washing them down with water. 

"Maybe it's just holiday spirit from all the decorations you and Wanda put up but, I don't hate you. I worried that maybe the team wasn't a good fit for you, that you could be off enjoying your life, but I was wrong and I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. Now will you please just go get some rest?"

Your eyes dropped back to the mission report once more, sighing as you felt defeat. "The reports will still be there when you're better" Natasha reminded you as she stood up, her hand reaching for yours, "I'm not taking no for an answer" she added. 

——

"Whoever made this needs to make it again!" Steve commented before taking another mouthful of soup, Tony nodded in agreement. 

"Nat made it for Y/n" Clint replied, cleaning one of his newly made arrows. 

"Yeah right" Thor chuckled, Tony agreeing with him. 

"Have you seen Y/n all afternoon?" Clint asked the others with a raised brow, they shook their heads, "Nat made them go to bed, she's out right now getting other things for them" the archer added. 

"Sounds like Natasha finally found some holiday spirit" Wanda smiled softly.

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[it-happened-one-fic]

Special Delivery - Wriothesley

Author Notes: It has been a journey in learning how to spell this man's name. This fic honestly just sort of happened. I didn't have a song I listened to while I wrote it and didn't really exactly have an idea either, outside of the fact that I've always though guys should get flowers just like girls. After all, flowers are pretty. I leave it up to you to decide what sort of flower was gifted here though. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Fluff/ Flirtation/ Teasing

Word Count: 1308

Just as it was with other nations, there were many, many different jobs and positions that one could hold in Fontaine.

But yours was very unique.

It wasn’t that you were anything nearly so grandiose as the receptionist to the revered Iudex or the widely-beloved Archon. And you also didn’t work for the Spina de Rosula or The Steambird.

No. You didn’t hold a position quite that illustrious. Instead, you were a delivery person.

You delivered ingredients, bandages, medicine, and, yes, even teas to the infamous Fortress of Meropide. After all, while such commodities were the norm of the Overworld, finding the same goods at the bottom of the sea was hardly possible. So you delivered them. Sometimes making two to three runs between the sunny upper side of Fontaine and the dark prison hidden in the depths.

 Your delivery runs were always waited for with bated breath by the people within the massive prison complex. Especially when the denizens of the depths knew you were going to be bringing special commodities, such as books for Sigewinne sent from Monsieur Neuvillette himself.

You strolled through the metal hallways with purpose as you went to make your final delivery for the day, and no one looked twice as you marched right up to the warden’s office and went in with barely even a pause.

Most inmates had no clue as to what you might be delivering to the duke who guarded these halls. You almost always had to make a stop at his office, though, and most preferred not to think too hard about what might be in the box you were carrying.

But, despite their fears, you held nothing quite so terrifying as what they might suspect. In fact, the box you held against your hip always held the exact same thing. Namely, tea.

To be fair, he usually requested an assortment of varying teas, but the regularity of his orders was somewhat concerning, and it might be worth mentioning to Sigewinne as to whether excessive consumption of tea could be detrimental to his health.

You walked up the steps silently as you entered the well-appointed office that you were now quite used to. Though you did have to wonder where the man in question hid his doubtlessly impressive tea stash since all the shelves of his bookcases were filled with books.

“There you are,” Wriothesley’s pale eyes immediately lifted from where he’d been looking at a stack of papers so that he was looking up to where you’d appeared at the top of the staircase as he stood from behind his desk. Almost like he’d been waiting for you. Or rather, more than likely, his beloved tea.

He walked around the desk with a slight smile as he met you halfway and accepted the box from your arm before immediately sitting it down so that he might peer inside at its contents. And you waited patiently as his gaze scanned container after container of fine tea and tea blends, nodding approvingly at certain intervals before he at last looked your way once more, “Perfect as always.”

There was a subtly teasing lilt to his voice that had you smiling before you shifted and revealed what you’d been hiding behind your back with that hand that had not been occupied by tea.

“Special delivery,” You announced cheerily as Wriothesley’s gaze darted between the potted plant in your hand and you. His expression shifting amusingly from curiosity to confusion.

After a brief moment of silence, he sighed, almost as if surrendering, “Y/n, you’re gonna have to help me here. I’m not the most well-versed in the language of flowers, but is this some form of hate mail from the House of Hearth or something?”

You rolled your eyes before handing the fully bloomed flower to him, “No, Sigewinne’s been telling me about how you’ve been staying holed up in your office, and you’ve mentioned that you rarely get to see flowers since you’re usually stuck down here in the fortress. I bought this for you to try and brighten the place up,” You gestured widely to the room as you finished, still smiling at the man who continued to stare at you.

“So you bought this for me?” He clarified with raised eyebrows, causing you to nod in amusement before you saw the glimmer that entered his eyes at your wordless response. A small, childish part of you whispered that you never should’ve entertained the thought of buying him a gift, but you ignored such thoughts.

Instead, you focused on the man in front of you as you braced for whatever it was he was going to say next.

“Well, something coming as a gift from you certainly is a ‘special delivery,’ but I must say, you’ve done what most can’t. You’ve surprised me, Y/n.” He paused, eyeing you closely, before pressing a hand to his chest with a grin slipping onto his face, “I never expected you to try and woo me.”

Somehow, you weren’t even surprised by his words as you leaned relaxedly against his desk and sat the gift down, causing the flower to bob lightly. “And what makes you think that this is me wooing you?”

He leaned forward, that grin still on his face as he spoke once more, “Isn’t that what gifts of flowers usually mean?”

Unperturbed by his teasing, you tilted your head, “Weren’t you the one who just implied that this plant was flower-coded hate mail to start with? And flowers are common get-well-soon gifts anyway; they don’t necessarily have anything to do with romance or wooing.”

“But I’m not sick,” He was quick to point out his apparently good health almost immediately. Straightening with an almost smug grin that had you shaking your head slightly.

You smiled at him innocently, though, automatically reminding him of Siegwinne’s concerns regarding his habit of holing himself up in his office, “But Sigewinne is worried.” 

He mimicked your motions, propping against the desk and half-caging you in with his body but still leaving your escape open, “Is this why you've been delivering such especially high-quality teas?”

You grinned slightly, despite yourself, at the man before you gestured lightly to the now abandoned box that sat on his desk next to him, “That’s the brand you always request, Lord Duke.”

His title slipped off your tongue easily, and you stared at each other silently. Wearing matching grins and similarly bright eyes as you each waited for the other one to make the next move.

After a moment, though, he shrugged and leaned back. Seemingly giving up even though that tell-tale glimmer still hadn’t left his eyes, “If you say so. I still find it suspicious, though.”

You held out his receipt for the delivery, watching as he took and signed it obediently before handing it back over. You accepted the slip of paper, having to actually tug it out of his hand as his gaze held yours with that persistently amused smile. But this was becoming a steadily more common set of interactions with you. A careful dance of teasing that he almost always slipped some form of flirtation into. 

You were still smiling as you finally managed to free the paper from his grasp without it tearing and without having to grasp it with both hands and yank it out of his hand, “Duly noted.”

He snorted slightly at your words but didn’t respond, and with that you were on your way. Not stopping until you were outside of his office and being greeted by Sigewinne.

“Did he like the flower?” The Melusine’s eyes were wide with giddy curiosity, and you paused. 

A smile flickered across your face as thought back to Wriotheseley’s amused grin, teasing tone, and glimmering eyes before you nodded, feeling oddly satisfied with yourself, “You know, I believe he did.”