#blue lighting in night scenes I long for your return

[ofswordsandpens]

directors using colorful or "impossible" lighting to convey mood and meaning and beauty my beloved. directors making night scenes impossible to see for the sake of realism my beloathed.

[zyafics]

GIRL UNDER THE MOONLIGHT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe invites you out to the Druthers for a sunrise event with Sarah and his friends.

Word Count — 2.3K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, Sarah being a good sister (and considerate to you!), you being clingy and possessive of Rafe, and suggestive scenes. A continuum of this and this and this!

“She can’t be a mermaid,” Sarah announces unexpectedly.

Rafe stops what he’s doing to turn to his sister, “What?”

“I poured some water on her skin,” she diligently informs, leaning against the doorframe of his office, her arms crossed over her chest with this vindicated look. "Nothing happened. Therefore, she can’t be a mermaid.”

Rafe scoffs at Sarah’s hypothesis. “What did you do? Chuck it at her?”

“Who do you think I am?” She rolls her eyes. “I just dropped some water on her… accidentally. I even brought towels—just in case.”

“A scientist,” Rafe drawls sarcastically, returning to his work.

“Precisely.”

Rafe had nearly forgotten that little quirk about you. It’s been almost a month since your arrival, and while there have been some occasional odd moments, nothing has proved evident about your supposed mermaid abilities. Finally, Rafe tucked it in the back of his head as nothing more than a phrase—a figment of your imagination, your fantasy transcending into the natural world.

Nothing more.

“Why is this relevant?” Rafe asks stodgily, flipping through the account books of Cameron Development, his fingers trailing the edge of the sheets.

“Because now you can bring her to the sunrise trip,” Sarah declares.

It takes Rafe a second to remember what she’s referring to. A summertime tradition where Sarah and Rafe host their friends on the Druthers, taking it out to sea to stay a night and wake up before sunrise.

Sarah had tested whether you were truly a mermaid to make you a candidate for the journey.

Rafe scoffs, “So that’s what that little experiment is for,”

“I had to,” she smiles sweetly, “Didn’t want her to turn into a fish when we’re out at sea. It’ll ruin the fun.”

“My fun or yours?”

Sarah doesn’t answer, giving him a knowing wink, before departing from his office.

That night, Rafe asks you. He was getting ready for bed, turning off all the lights, before you patter your way into his doorway, shyly inviting yourself into his room. Rafe no longer is surprised by your arrival, and with a wave of a hand, he beckons you forward and you sink in his arms.

You’re always giddily, full of soul, and when Rafe has you in his arms, it amplifies. You detail him about your day—the time spent along the coastline of his estate, traveling barefoot along the empty roads, interacting with land critters. You’re always so fascinated by the mundane, the landscape and sights, but the way you go about it—it’s a soothing sound, full of bursting energy.

He can, and has, fallen asleep to it.

Knowing you’re in a good mood, Rafe decides to pop the question. He tells you about the trip, taking his yacht out, and watching the flaming palette of orange-blue light in the morning sky. He thinks you’ll enjoy it; after all, you’re a self-proclaimed mermaid with a fascination for all human derivatives.

But, for the first time, you say no.

“Why not?” Rafe asks as you lay on his chest, shaking your head at the invitation. Your nails are tracing the fabric of his shirt, drawing doodles in similar manners you would do at the bottom of the ocean floor.

“I don’t want to,” your voice is quiet and tiny as if you don’t like the idea of saying no to him.

“It’s just for one night,” Rafe assures. Perhaps you’ve gotten used to the stability of the Tannyhill estate.

You persist, declining the offer.

“It’ll be fun,” Rafe reasons, but there’s a bitterness in the way he’s pushing the topic. Truthfully, if you don’t attend, Rafe doesn’t have much incentive to join either. Yes, it’s been a long-standing tradition, but he wants to experience it with you. Ever since you entered into his life, he’s been feeling that way.

Yet, he knows he has to go. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive the Druthers, and she’s been looking forward to this all summer. Despite their bickering, he doesn’t want to let her down.

You shake your head quietly, slouching your shoulders inwards, making yourself small. It’s as if your body is physically recoiling at denying Rafe.

He doesn’t know what’s going on. You never do this. You’ve always been pliant, and obedient, agreeing to every little concoction he conspires. It’s one of the many things he adores about you; yet, for the first time, you’re being wayward.

“Are you afraid of the water?” Rafe asks gently, stroking the curve of your spine with his finger, in a way that makes you relax your muscles. He accidentally hooks it underneath the shirt—his shirt—drawing it up to expose your skin; soft, tender, and perfect.

Sarah had been right. Normally, you don’t like wearing clothes. Only when Rafe asks you to whenever you go out together, but preferably, you choose to remain as close to naked as possible. It’s too hot, you told him. You’ve gone years without clothes, and the actual barrier produces heat. The only exception, however, is if you get to wear his.

Again, you don’t answer. Your fingers coils around the loose fabric of his shirt, bundling it into a fist, as if you’re frightened by the suggestion. Rafe sees it—feels it—emulating from your body, and he stops for a second and relinquishes his touch.

“We’re just going to be on the boat. You don’t have to go into the water if you don’t want to,” Rafe reassures, hoping his words soothe something over you. He knows he’s been persistent, but he truly doesn’t want to leave you alone—not even for one night. “I’ll protect you.”

Normally, under that advisement, it would palliate all concerns; and would coaxe you into an affirmative yes. But you say nothing, and finally, with a tick of agitation pulsing through him, Rafe gently grabs your chin and lifts your tender gaze to his.

“Don’t you trust me?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip; plumped, fresh, coasted with this perpetual wetness that makes Rafe burn with desire. And you nod your head, listening, but not actively responding.

His thumb traces your lower lip, pulling down the plumpness and forcing it to split apart. Your eyes meet Rafe with a tenderness, almost hunger, while your breathing slightly stills.

You still don’t answer him.

And this time, Rafe decides to let it go.

“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

This should make you happy, for him to drop it, but the coated disappointment in his tone causes your stomach to twist. You don’t like upsetting him, don’t like the idea that you’re not meeting the standard and his needs.

“But you’ll still go?” You ask softly, gently, like an ocean breeze.

“I have to. Sarah doesn’t know how to drive,”

Your brows pinch, furrowing together. “Will there be other females there?”

“Yeah,” Rafe nods. “Some of Sarah’s girl friends.”

You purse your lips, eyes squinting. You don’t like that. You’re possessive about your mate. You understand Sarah’s his sister, and that company is natural, but with other women? Unrelated to him? It’s wrong.

You can’t stand it.

“Okay,” you murmur softly, conceding in a way that Rafe likes. “I’ll come.”

The next morning, everyone’s at the docks of the Tannyhill estate, loading onto the yacht. Sarah brought a variety of fruits and snacks, while Kelce and Topper helped her and her friends abroad. They climb up the slippery steps and enter into the cockpit, settling with their things.

You stay close to Rafe, timid among the new crowd.

Out at sea, everything is smooth sailing. Today’s a beautiful day, with steady waves, and it’s meant to last the entire week. Rafe parks the Druthers off the coast, where you can’t see Kildare anymore, save for a small coastal cove that’s within view. The boat gently bobs against the rolling tides, and the sounds of Sarah and her friends are screeching with enthusiasm as they take a swim around the yacht.

You watch from above the deck, your focus on the distance, staring at the island cove.

When Rafe slips out of the cockpit, his hand slides over your waist, snapping you out of your concentration. You lift your gaze to meet his, and the furrowed crease between your brows disappears, shoulders relaxing upon his touch.

Rafe offers you a rare, gentle smile. “You wanna swim?”

You shake your head, “Not with them.”

He likes the fact that you don’t entertain his friends, that you want him and only him. “You were waiting for me?”

You nod, leaning your head against his shoulders. “You looked busy,”

“You could’ve told me,” Rafe declares, “Better yet, you could’ve joined me.”

You huff softly, amused, as Rafe pulls you closer to his side. Again, he smells the scent of the sea—but it’s fragrance, exuding from you. His eyes drift to the direction you were looking at, “What's that?”

“Nothing,” you hum, but there’s a pang of longing. You tip your chin skyward to find his gaze once more. “Can we go inside now?”

A couple of hours later, Sarah’s right. Again. The whole crew is having dinner on the main deck, and someone accidentally spills a cup of water on your arm, but nothing happened. Rafe was ready to see something—a twinkle, a glow, or a glimmer—but it was absolute zilch. One of her friends who did it apologizes, and you chuckle softly, wiping it away with a towel, not a care in the world.

He truly doesn’t understand this mermaid business. He really doesn’t.

Maybe you’re someone who loves the sea so much, you claim it as part of your identity. You want to be closer to the ocean, to the marines, to the corals and the sea creatures that the title is merely an expression of self, rather than a true folktale.

You can’t be a mermaid, Rafe reasons, you don’t even have a tail.

Later, everyone shuffles off to their individual cabins. Rafe claimed the biggest one—because of course he did. When you step out of the small bathroom, in nothing but a large shirt of his, Rafe swallows thickly. Because most times, when you come into his room, it’s night, punctured with darkness saved for a glow of moonlight through his curtains.

Now, the cabin lights remain perpetually on, at low brightness, and it allows Rafe to see everything. He’s reminded of the tidbit from Sarah—how you hate panties—and his eyes drop to your thighs, where the shirt casually brushes mid-level, almost revealing more. His heart beats heavily, and you slowly climb onto the bed, wrapping yourself around him.

You fall asleep on his chest, as you normally do, and the weight is like a natural blanket to him. Something he knows, expects, and remembers. It tames all the raging emotions inside of him, silences all the busy thoughts, and hones in completely and only you.

During the duration of the night, while the yacht slowly rocks against the stronger currents, his hand falls on your back protectively.

Until it doesn’t.

Something doesn’t feel right; missing. His eyes slowly blink awake, drowsiness coating his features, while his eyes adjust to the low cabin lights. His hands weaved through thin air.

You’re gone.

With the door of the cabin wide open.

Consciousness strikes Rafe, and he jumps out of bed, rushing out of the cabin, and following the hallway lights to the deck. Slowly, with the rocking of the tides, Rafe climbs up the stairs, to the main deck, and finds you in the stark darkness.

Standing on the ledge.

You’re at the gap where the railing ends, allowing an opening to jump to the swim platform. You’re standing dangerously close to it, his shirt flapping against the wind, a loose hand wrapped on the safety handle.

Rafe calls your name, but you don’t turn around. He suspects you’re sleepwalking, entranced in a dream, that led you up here. Ocean calling you home, it’s evidence for his theory.

But you’re not a mermaid and you can’t survive that leap.

Cautiously, Rafe approaches you, slowly, tenderly, calling your name. He’s afraid of waking you, afraid of startling you from your dream and causing you to release and fall. With each step closer, he hears the thumping of his own heartbeat and the prize within reachable fingertips.

He’s almost there.

He’s so close.

Until you jump.

Rafe screams as he reaches the ledge, his eyes adjusting to the dark currents of the sea. Nothing is visible, not a stream of light underneath, except for the glowing reflection of the full moon bathing the dark waters.

He’s calling your name, again and again, trying to see if you’ll surface to the sound of his voice.

But nothing happens.

Rafe’s already taking off his shoes, taking off his shirt. He’s gearing up to jump in after, especially if you don’t surface within the next minute.

He’s praying. A godless man as himself, who doesn’t believe in a higher power, is begging for you to come up unscathed.

But he still sees nothing.

Until something cuts the waves, a sharp prodding sculpture that slices through the harsh currents.

A tail?

He isn’t sure if his eyes are deceiving him, especially with the drowsiness of his sleep, but he sees another cut in the ocean, this time paired with an iridescent color of a fin, scaly and glimmering.

He calls out your name once more, a little timid, a little frightened.

And you raise to the surface.

Attached to a long, kaleidoscopic tail, with skin full of scales, climbing up your shoulders and throat, you’re flipping through the water; your smile bright, eager, and real.

Rafe breathes out a sigh of disbelief.

“Holy shit,”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR MERMAID!READER: @nemesyaaa / @promiscuousg1rl / @fullofsunshineandloneliness / @erwinsvow / @perfectprettypisces / @immalosersblog / @carolinevoight / @drewswife / @skye-44 / @ggraycelynn / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @drewstarkeyspecs / @lolasangelz / @chalahyung01 / @waywardalpacaoctopus / @jjasmiineee / @chelzaa / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @walkingwithoutreason / @mega-kittyglitter-1 / @m1-na / @mattyskies / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

[whitecompri]

I NEED MORE DAD HOGS

Like what if they dad walk on on the reader and their kid doing something super cuteee and like they're dying from cuteness aggression(^o^)

Too Cute for Daddy

Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader.

Genre: Fluff

Rating: G (General Audience)

Warnings: None

A/N: Thanks for the request! It was a little shorter than I intended, but I thought the scenario turned out really cute, I hope you like it.

--*--

Sonic

Sighing tiredly, his hand reached for the doorknob, opening the door with a low creak. It was almost night, the sun casting its final rays in the sky, longing for the arrival of nighttime darkness. Sonic had just returned home after a long day fighting some of Eggman's badniks; he could hardly wait to give a long and warm hug to the two girls he loved most and then take a long nap to rest his body.

Entering the hallway, the hedgehog saw the living room light on and walked over. He leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, opening a wide smile at the sight before him.

You were sitting on the floor cross-legged, your little one in your lap, her green, curious eyes focusing on yours. Your hands gently held hers.

“Come on, sweetie… say ‘daddy’! Daddy! Daddy will be so happy, you know that?” your voice came out extremely sweet, as your hand gently swayed hers, encouraging her to try letting out her first little words.

The hedgehog swelled with pride, unable to contain it; his quills subtly bristled knowing the little one’s first word would be ‘daddy.’

Then, the little one started babbling some random, incoherent sounds, opening and closing her tiny hand against yours. Sonic felt his heart melting already just from that scene, but he didn’t expect what came next.

“Daaa… daaa… Daddy…” You opened a huge smile, happily celebrating her first word, and that’s when you heard a familiar voice gasp softly. Turning your head, you saw Sonic at the doorway.

“Hey, you’re already home, I didn’t even see you come in.” You smiled at him, letting out a nasal laugh at his expression.

The hedgehog was leaning on the frame with one hand, the other clutching the fur on his chest, his green eyes wide in surprise.

It was one of the few times in his life Sonic realized his legs were weak and shaky, his heart beating out of rhythm. He looked at you two with breathtaking affection—it was a sight to behold.

“...She said daddy!” he finally exclaimed, pulling himself together and running to you both, kneeling on the floor beside you. Without wasting a second, he leaned his forehead against yours, letting out a hoarse laugh, and that’s when you noticed something—his eyes were full of tears ready to fall, and you weren’t sure you’d seen him cry outside the day the little one was born.

“Yeah, she did... I knew you’d be happy...” You closed your eyes, sighing contentedly, and then he brought his muzzle closer to your face, planting quick kisses on your cheek. You giggled softly at his sudden outburst of affection.

Then he shifted focus, gently picking up the little one from your lap, holding her against his chest. Almost immediately, your daughter instinctively clung to his fur, practically glued to her dad.

“This is definitely one of the happiest days of my life... And I’ve had plenty of happy days.” Sonic chuckled, pressing his muzzle against his daughter’s head, inhaling her scent, sighing contentedly.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, hiding your face in the curve of his neck, enjoying the closeness and the pleasant family moment.

“You have no idea how grateful I am to have you two...” he said, voice thick with emotion, holding back tears.

“We’re the lucky ones for having you in our lives...” you whispered, your voice muffled by his blue fur.

Your family life was only just beginning, and you were certain it would bring even more happiness in the future.

Shadow

Placing the cloth on the handlebar, the hedgehog sighed, admiring his cleaning work on the motorcycle. He had spent a good while there meticulously cleaning and leaving the vehicle spotless. Now, the only thing he wanted was to rest a bit.

Putting his white gloves back on and adjusting them below his Limiter Rings, Shadow walked to the front door of the house, slowly turning the doorknob and entering. He walked toward the living room.

Immediately, his gaze focused on the couch, lit by the orange light of late afternoon—you were holding the little hedgehog girl resting on your arm, while your other hand gently held the bottle for her to feed.

The little one with black fur suckled the milk with half-closed eyes, relaxed in your comfort.

At that scene, Shadow felt a strange tightness in his chest. A warm feeling that always surrounded him when he was close to people he cared about—but especially near his family, no matter how much he’d never admit it.

“Hey, Shadow, come here.” You called softly, seeing the hedgehog standing at the living room door staring at you both. After a few more seconds of hesitation, Shadow moved through the room, calmly walking toward you, the heavy steps of his Air Shoes echoing on the wooden floor.

Then, he finally stopped in front of you. You flashed a warm smile to the stoic hedgehog. He gave a tentative smile in return, sitting beside you. His eyes still fixed on the image of his daughter feeding. And Shadow knew he’d always wonder how something so pure could exist—and above all, how he had created something so pure.

Then suddenly, the little one let go of the bottle, gazing intently into her father’s eyes with her own crimson irises. Hesitant, still unsure if he should touch her, Shadow’s hand reached out to her still-soft quills, tracing them delicately until it reached her folded little ear, the little one not looking away from him for a second.

Unexpectedly, Shadow gave a small jump. When you looked, you broke into a wide smile—the little one had gripped his finger tightly in her young but already powerful hands.

Shadow froze, his breath instantly quickened, and his heart started racing. Her touch was small, but already carried the full strength expected from the daughter of Shadow the Hedgehog.

You watched his shocked expression closely—his mouth half-open, eyes wide—and you were almost certain you saw his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

When her grip finally loosened to reach for the bottle again, his hand withdrew, trembling. The hedgehog stared at his palm for a few more seconds in awe, before letting out a low grunt, snorting, and quickly getting up from the couch, hurrying down the hallway, leaving you smiling behind, watching how deeply he’d been affected by such a simple scene and such a small gesture. It only warmed your heart to know how incredible Shadow’s heart was beneath that stubborn exterior.

Shadow walked heavily to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He spent a few seconds with his back pressed against the wooden door before sighing and heading to the sink, his heart still pounding due to the rapid succession of emotions.

He placed his hands on the sink, staring at himself in the mirror, looking at the soft expression on his face, the fast breathing, and the small, forming tears.

He could only wonder how he, the Ultimate Life Form, could be so emotionally affected by such a tiny creature—and one so much like him. Shaking his head, he turned on the faucet, splashing water on his face.

But still, he couldn’t hide the tender expression that appeared on him every time he thought of his little daughter.

“...What’s happening to me anyway?” he let out a rare, nasal laugh to himself in the bathroom. And he knew that his family’s future would be bright—and he would do everything to keep a smile on your faces and ensure you never lacked anything.

Silver

His steps were slow and tired as he stopped in front of the door, scratching the back of his neck and running his hand through his bristling quills, trying to relax after a long day. The white hedgehog opened the front door, a huge smile spreading on his face just at the thought of seeing his girls. That’s when his ears twitched and turned, picking up the sounds of cheerful laughter. Sighing contentedly at the sweet sounds of his home, Silver walked toward the living room, knowing you would be there with the little one.

Stopping suddenly, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped at the sight. His heart raced and his quills bristled all over again.

Sitting on the fluffy rug, you held the little white hedgehog in your lap. She laughed happily, her bright eyes watching some of her toys float around the room, surrounded by a faint light blue aura.

“That’s right, sweetheart! Focus... you’re doing so well!” You said softly, encouraging her to continue using her powers, moving the small objects around you both.

Silver watched the scene stunned, feeling his heart stop for a second before it began to race. He breathed heavily, taking a step forward to get closer.

“She... she’s using telekinesis?!” A wide smile spread across his muzzle, and you turned to him with a smile. “I never thought she’d have my powers...” He took another step forward.

The little one focused her golden eyes on her father, guiding a small plush toy into his hand. He grabbed the toy, his eyes shining with pride for his little one. Then he came closer, sitting down on the floor beside you. The child stopped using her powers, dropping the toys on the ground and reaching for the plush.

“It was a surprise to me too when I found out... I knew you’d love this news.” You laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The hedgehog watched with a warm expression. He couldn’t believe what he had seen, couldn’t believe that the little one was really using telekinesis for the first time.

“I can’t believe my little girl has my powers... This is amazing.” He closed his eyes with a big smile, shaking his head. Then, opening his eyes again, he laughed, picking the girl up in his arms. She began to laugh with him.

He stood up, lifting her high into the air, the little one giggling happily, loving playing with her dad.

“You made me so proud, little one, you have no idea!” His voice was filled with emotion. He spun her in the air, then hugged the tiny hedgehog tightly against his chest. He felt some tears forming but held them back for now.

You laughed quietly, watching how excited he got with the scene. And it was certain that Silver would help and guide the little one to use her powers in the best way possible. Your family life was just beginning, and it would bring many more wonderful things ahead.

Scourge

With a wide, smug grin on his face, Scourge stopped in front of the door, spinning the key around his finger and holding a grocery bag in the other hand. Humming softly, he unlocked the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him. He had been out for a few hours to buy the essentials for the week, coming back eager to see you and the little one again, wanting to spend more time with the two of you.

He went straight to the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter, putting the items in their proper places—something he had learned from you, since tidying up wasn’t exactly his thing.

Then he found it odd how quiet the house was. He should’ve heard at least some chatter or laughter from the two of you, but in fact, he didn’t hear anything. He muttered in confusion, finishing putting away the last item and heading back to the hallway.

He walked to the living room, entering—however, as soon as his foot touched the living room floor, Scourge froze in place, his blue eyes wide open.

On the couch, you slept peacefully, your breathing calm and steady, while the little one snuggled on your chest, her breathing sounds reaching Scourge’s ears, making him melt completely inside.

His heart started pounding hard at the sight, and he tried to swallow but felt a knot in his throat. For reasons he didn’t even understand, he couldn’t move, as if his body wanted to stay right there, just appreciating your faces as you both slept.

Finally, after several minutes, he broke out of what felt like a spell that had kept him in that position for so long. Not really knowing what to do, the green hedgehog simply sat in front of the couch, gently running a hand across your sleeping face, admiring how soft you were.

Then he focused his blue eyes on the peaceful expression of his daughter, running a finger across her tiny cheek, letting out a muffled chuckle at how she was even softer than you.

Suddenly, a wave of emotions overtook him. Scourge had been through a lot—done a lot of messed-up things too, many of which he even regretted—but making that little creature so identical to him, yet so perfect, was definitely something he was proud of.

And the intensity of how much he loved the two of you hurt—it hurt more than a punch to the gut. He didn’t even know he was capable of loving someone, let alone as much as he did now.

So he leaned against the couch, sighing, taking off his sunglasses and placing them on the floor beside him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, sniffling softly, holding back the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“…I promise I’ll be the best dad in the world for ya, little one.” He gently rested his hand on the child’s back, feeling her light breathing. “…And I ain’t gonna let ya down, [Y/N].” Scourge whispered softly to you, committing to be the hedgehog you deserved, always.

And so, as he fell asleep close to his family, all he wanted was to think about how wonderful the future would be—and how he’d try harder every day to be his best self and shed the arrogance that had always been part of him. He let out one last muffled chuckle as he thought that he’d definitely want more little hedgehogs to care for in the future. And just like that, the green hedgehog drifted off to sleep, close to the two of you.

[astraystayyh]

a million little stars

snippets of your relationship with minho. tooth-rooting fluff. they’re so in love your honor!!!!!!!!! (minho is drunk in two scenes but HE’S ADORABLE)

this is for my baby @rachalixie,,, happy (very late) birthday my star HOW LUCKY I AM TO KNOW YOU 😭

please consider donating to our stayblr fundraiser for gaza!! we are so so close to raising 5000 dollars for palestine!

Your hands tremble like autumn leaves as you press them to Minho’s cheeks. His eyes are glossed over as if dipped into resin, his face flushed like hibiscus petals. You're unsure if it’s from the cold or the three bottles of soju before him.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” you quickly ask, pulling the chair in front of him. The grocery store’s light reflects off his face, red and blue dancing across his pupils like flames in a fireplace.

A lazy smile forms on his lips as he blinks at the sound of your voice. Your name escapes his lips faintly, as if he’s in awe over the fact that you’re really there.

“Don’t we have classes tomorrow? And you have dance practice too. Why are you getting so drunk?” you chastise, pulling the bottle from his grasp. He lets you, laying his cheek on his arm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Minho? Won’t you answer me?” you giggle slightly, and he blinks, the grin spreading across his face like sun rays stretching across the sky.

“Did I think of you so much you suddenly appeared in front of me?” he whispers, and your heart thrashes around your ribcage only to plummet to your knees.

You met Minho in one of your psychology classes, and then at the grocery store near your home. That’s how you found out you live only three minutes apart. Minho started walking you home after class, and you attended his dance practices in return. That’s how your crush came to life.

An unrequited love, you long thought.

Now, not so much. You dare hope.

“You think of me?” you whisper, and he nods, his lips forming into a huge pout. Your eyes soften like clay at the sight.

You didn’t know Minho became this adorable when drunk. Truthfully, there are lots of things you still don’t know about him, though your infatuation feels as if it has inhabited your soul for years.

“Ah, Yn-aaah,” he suddenly drawls out, grabbing the end of your chair and pulling you closer. He does it so effortlessly it leaves you dizzy for a few seconds.

“Why are you sooo pretty, huh?” he mumbles, placing his chin on his palm.

“You’re drunk. I look like a mess right now,” you shake your head slightly, your blush now mirroring his.

“No, no, no,” he contradicts vehemently. You blink, and his face is suddenly inches away from yours. “See, your eyes… your nose…” His finger traces your features as he names them. “Your cheeks… and your lips.” His thumb grazes your lower lip, and suddenly, you’re the one who’s drunk off of his touch.

He brightens up, dropping his hand and placing his forehead on the table. “Pretty, so so pretty.”

…

“And then you kept mumbling about how pretty I am till I got you to your dorm,” you giggle, and Minho huffs slightly. He’s acting cool, but his ears betray him, turning a scorching red as you recount the night you found him drunk and alone, two months ago.

“I mean, did I lie? You are pretty,” he mumbles through a pout, one that you quickly kiss away. His lips taste of sugar and love— you dare to hope the grand feeling is reciprocated.

“You also kept yelling my name so loud that someone looked out of their window—” He silences you now, your lips struggling to meet as a fit of giggles overtakes you.

“Shh, let me kiss you,” he smiles against your lips, and you nod, sliding your hand across his jaw. His fingers graze your arm as your mouths meet again and again, and soon you’re no longer sure how much time has passed since you last spoke.

He breaks away first, the tip of his nose grazing your cheek. He brings you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your apartment is quiet for a little while, the only sound being your synced breathing.

It’s so comforting to be in his hold, to feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, his perfume cocooning your soul. You’ve liked Minho for so long that getting to embrace him still feels like a dream, even after two months of dating.

“I love you,” he suddenly whispers, and a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins at his words, butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach at how gentle he sounds.

“What?” you pull away slightly, finding him blinking furiously, a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“I love you,” he repeats, slightly louder this time, his hands cupping your cheeks securely, safely. “I really love you.”

You feel as if the entire universe is suddenly singing within your heart.

…

“Minho,” you whine slightly, trying to shake him off, but he doesn’t budge.

“Baby, I really have to pee,” you chuckle, but he shakes his head, pushing his entire weight atop you.

“Warm,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, because you’re suffocating me.”

“So my love is suffocating?” he scoffs loudly, pushing himself off you. “Do you hear that, Soonie?” he turns to the orange cat near your head. “Can you believe it?”

“If Soonie could speak, she’d complain about your sleep-talking,” you joke, placing a quick peck on the tip of his nose. It was one of Minho’s most endearing traits, one that you discovered since you moved in together, a few weeks ago.

“You have two minutes,” he narrows his eyes at you, “or else I’ll terrorize you while you pee.”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, but your smile says otherwise. It warms your heart to think that someone loves your presence so much that they’d come to crave it first thing in the morning.

You’re back in bed exactly one minute and forty-seven seconds later (courtesy of Minho’s counting). He’s quick to wrap you in his arms, your back nestled perfectly against his chest.

“You smell good,” you compliment, placing tiny kisses on the arm wrapped around your middle. You grin, recognizing hints of your soap. You smile wider when you spot goosebumps raising across his skin.

“So do you,” he mumbles into your hair. It’s the last you both speak for a few minutes. The only sounds in the room are Soonie’s occasional tired mewls and the curtains swaying before the open window.

Sounds of home.

“Honey,” Minho suddenly calls out, and you open your eyes to find a dainty necklace dangling before you. The initial M reflects the filtering sunlight.

“I’m a bit possessive,” he says, placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder. “Need everyone to know you are mine.”

“You’re very cute,” you smile softly, brushing your hair away from your shoulder. His lips graze your bare skin as he clasps the necklace in place.

“It looks good on you,” he compliments, spinning you around to look at you. “Thank you for giving me a home,” he whispers, before scattering kisses along your collarbone— they remind you of dewdrops falling atop petals at dawn, eager to reunite after a long night apart.

…

“Thank you for coming,” Chan smiles sheepishly as you stand before their table. You quickly give him a side-hug before kneeling in front of Minho.

“Is he okay?” you ask worriedly, rubbing warmth into his hands. Chan shakes his head, placing his jacket over Minho’s shoulders.

“Yeah, he just didn’t want to get into the car. He kept asking for you.”

“He’s very strong even when he’s drunk,” you giggle knowingly, memories of four years past surfacing. Back when Minho was just a crush who called you pretty while drunk.

Now he’s everything to you.

“I’ll be in the car. Just convince him to get in, please,” Chan whines, and you chuckle, sending him a thumbs-up.

“Baby,” you whisper, grazing Minho’s cheeks with your knuckles. His eyes, still glossy, peer at you, a million little stars finding refuge within their depths.

“I want Yn,” he mumbles, closing his eyes again.

“Honey, I’m Yn,” you explain while laughing, peering at him from underneath. He squints one eye at you, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Fine,” he stands up suddenly, tripping on his own two feet. You quickly hold him as his forehead rests atop your shoulder.

“Yn… I’m hiding something from my girlfriend,” he whispers, attempts to, in his drunken state. Your heart catches in your chest as you tread carefully, running your fingers through his hair.

“What is it, baby?” you ask.

“I will propose to her next week.”

“Oh,” you gasp softly, your hold on him growing limp. “Will you?”

“Yes, but it’s a secret,” he brings his finger to his lips, making a shushing motion. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You break out in loud giggles. Chan sends you a quizzical look when he spots the radiant smile across your lips— it’s only a reflection of the sun that has lodged itself into your heart.

Minho lays his head atop your lap on the drive back home. Your soul exhales in content as you gaze at your pretty Minho, your lovely Minho.

“Baby,” you whisper in his ear. He hums sweetly in response.

“Can I tell you a secret in return?” you ask and he nods eagerly. “Your girlfriend will say yes. And she loves you” sudden tears of gratitude well in your eyes, “more than she could ever express.”

[urfavfrenchgrl]

winter holidays part two

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 3k ᥫ᭡ summary: your brother's best friend is spending the winter holidays at your family manor. A group snowball fight between Theo, Mattheo, Draco, Blaise and you turns competitive. But you only have your eyes on him. ᥫ᭡ Notes: F!Reader and Theodore Nott's sister.

part one

The morning came far too soon, pulling you from the restless haze of a night spent chasing thoughts you couldn’t seem to quiet. Sleep had been elusive, slipping through your fingers each time you closed your eyes. Your mind returned, over and over, to the scene from the night before: the swing creaking gently beneath you two, the cold bite of winter softened by Mattheo’s warm presence against you.

It wasn’t the chill of the night that had kept you awake, but the memory of his gaze—heavy, searching, and impossibly close. The way snowflakes had caught in his dark curls, the silver light turning them almost ethereal. You could still feel the weight of his jacket on your shoulders, the warmth of his hands brushing against your skin as he pulled you closer. And then there was the moment before you closed the door to your room: the unspoken tension, the way his eyes lingered as though he were memorizing you.

What would have happened if you hadn’t stepped away? If you had leaned in and kissed him instead of retreating? The thought left a strange ache in your chest, one you didn’t quite know how to name. But you would never know. You told yourself that much as you wrapped your robe around you and made your way downstairs, drawn by the faint sounds of voices and the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

The warmth of the dining room was a sharp contrast to the frosty stillness outside. Theo and Mattheo were already seated at the long wooden table, the remnants of breakfast spread before them. Theo looked up as you entered, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly.

“Well, good morning,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of suspicion. “You sleep in or something?”

“Something like that,” you replied with a small smile, making your way to the pot of coffee.

“The snow’s relentless,” Theo continued, motioning toward the window. “It must’ve dumped half a meter last night. We’re practically buried.”

Your hands froze for the briefest moment, the coffee pot halfway to your cup. “Oh,” you said lightly, forcing your voice to remain steady as you poured. “I hadn’t noticed.”

But you had. You could still see the way the snow fell softly around Mattheo, dusting his shoulders as he stood in the faint moonlight, his curls catching the white like a canvas. You hadn’t forgotten, not for a second.

“You were probably too busy dreaming of who-knows-what,” Theo teased, turning his attention back to his plate.

Mattheo, silent until now, glanced at you from across the table. His dark eyes met yours briefly, unreadable as ever, before he returned to his cup. Yet even that fleeting look sent a spark of warmth through you, one that you tried and failed to ignore.

You took your seat, the memory of last night pressing against the edges of your thoughts, and the snow outside continued to fall as if the world had paused just for you.

Theo leaned back in his chair, his coffee cup in hand, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “By the way,” he said casually, as though it were an afterthought, “I invited Draco and Blaise over. They should be here soon.”

You looked up, momentarily startled. “Draco and Blaise?”

He nodded, his smirk widening. “Yeah. Thought it’d be fun to have a snowball fight. You know how Draco gets—he’s convinced he’s unbeatable.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in what might have been amusement on another day, but the tension in your chest made it impossible to muster more than a faint smile. You did know Draco and Blaise well. Not as well as Mattheo, of course, but they had always been fixtures in Theo’s life—his closest friends from his first year at Hogwarts, present at every tedious pure-blood event you’d been forced to attend, their polished airs and practiced grins as much a part of those events as the crystal chandeliers and endless glasses of elf-made wine.

Normally, the thought of a snowball fight would have made you light up. You loved the snow, loved the way it softened the edges of the world, muffling sounds and blanketing everything in quiet beauty. But this morning, the excitement refused to come. The memory of last night hung heavy over you, a weight you couldn’t quite shake, and you knew Mattheo was at the heart of it.

“Not going to jump at the chance to pelt us all with snowballs, princess?” Mattheo’s voice broke into your thoughts, a teasing lilt to his tone. He rested his elbows on the table, his sharp eyes watching you like he could see right through you.

You shrugged, forcing a neutral expression. “Maybe I’ll just watch from the sidelines. Wouldn’t want to embarrass all of you.”

Theo snorted. “Please. You? Embarrass us? Stick to your books, Y/N. This is real competition.”

Mattheo’s smirk deepened, a flicker of something playful and dangerous in his expression. “Oh, come on, Theo. Don’t be too hard on her. Maybe she’s just afraid of getting her hair messed up. Can’t have our little princess looking anything less than perfect, can we?”

Your chest tightened at the nickname. He was doing it on purpose—you knew he was. Pushing just enough to see if he could make you squirm, to see if you’d break. It wasn’t unlike him to provoke you, but today, it felt sharper, more deliberate.

“I think I’ll be fine,” you said evenly, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Besides, you seem to spend more time on your hair than I do. Wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

Theo barked out a laugh, and Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. “Touché,” he said, his voice low and amused. “Guess we’ll just have to see if you’re as quick on your feet in the snow as you are with your mouth.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding harder now, the tension between you crackling like electricity in the air. Mattheo leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself, and Theo—oblivious as ever—stood and stretched, effectively breaking the moment.

“They’ll be here any minute,” he said, heading toward the door. “Better get ready, Y/N. Unless you really do plan on sitting this one out.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. You didn’t trust yourself around Mattheo—not after last night, not with the way he was looking at you now. But the last thing you wanted was to give Theo any reason to suspect that something was amiss.

“I’ll join,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. “But don’t cry when I beat you all.”

Theo laughed, disappearing into the hall to prepare, leaving you alone with Mattheo. He watched you for a moment longer, his smirk fading slightly, his expression turning more serious.

“You sure you’re up for it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost challenging.

You looked up at him, your jaw tightening. “I’m sure.”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, and for a moment, you thought he might say something else. But then he leaned back, the smirk returning. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to miss the chance to prove me wrong.”

And with that, he stood, leaving you alone with the memory of his teasing tone and the way his gaze lingered just a second too long. The snow outside glittered in the morning sun, beautiful and blinding, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you were going to survive the day.

You changed into your warmest clothes, layering a heavy knit sweater under your winter coat and wrapping a scarf snugly around your neck. The manor’s cold halls seemed to press in around you as you made your way toward the door, boots crunching lightly against the old wooden floors. From outside, you could already hear the voices of the boys, their laughter and taunts carrying through the frosty air.

As you stepped out into the bright, snow-covered grounds, the cold bit at your cheeks, and you pulled your gloves tighter over your fingers. Theo spotted you first, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved you over. Blaise stood beside him, already armed with a snowball, his sharp features lit with mischief.

“About time,” Theo called out. “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging through the snow to join them. “I had to mentally prepare myself to carry this team.”

Blaise let out a bark of laughter. “Bold words for someone who hasn’t even thrown a snowball yet.”

On the other side of the field, Mattheo and Draco stood huddled together, the latter’s pale blonde hair catching the sunlight like a beacon. They were already strategizing, Draco gesturing animatedly while Mattheo stood with his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, watching you approach with a look that sent a shiver down your spine—one that had nothing to do with the cold.

Draco’s voice cut through the air, crisp and teasing. “You sure you can handle this, Nott? Or are you just here to cheer for your brother?”

You shot him a glare, already crouching to gather a handful of snow. “Don’t worry about me, Malfoy. Worry about yourself.”

Mattheo smirked, stepping closer to Draco as he sized you up. “Careful, princess. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail.”

Your grip on the snowball tightened, heat rising to your cheeks that you prayed looked like nothing more than the chill of the winter air. “I’ll break something, alright,” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Theo.

“Alright, alright,” Theo called out, waving his arms to signal a start. “Three against two. That means no crying when we win, Malfoy.”

“Not likely,” Draco scoffed, his grin sharp and challenging. “You’re about to learn what real strategy looks like.”

Mattheo stayed quiet, his smirk never fading as his dark eyes remained fixed on you. He crouched to gather a snowball, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he already knew this was less about the game and more about whatever invisible line the two of you kept dancing around.

The first few minutes were chaos. Snow flew through the air in every direction, shouts and laughter mingling with the crisp crackle of boots crushing snow. Blaise turned out to be a surprisingly skilled shot, his snowballs landing with precision and force, while Theo charged ahead like a bull, more focused on brute strength than aim.

You tried to keep your focus, but it was impossible not to notice Mattheo. He moved with a kind of easy confidence, dodging and throwing with an almost lazy precision that made it seem like he wasn’t even trying. And every so often, his gaze would find yours, a flicker of challenge in his eyes that sent your heart racing.

You barely had time to register your next move before Mattheo hurled a snowball straight at you, the impact hitting your shoulder with surprising precision. “That’s one!” he shouted smugly. “Better keep up, princess!”

“Don’t let him get to you!” Blaise yelled, already running to flank Draco.

But Mattheo wasn’t letting up. Every time you moved, it was as though he anticipated your steps, his snowballs striking closer and closer. His smirk only grew as you dodged one, then another, his taunts cutting through the air.

“Still think you can handle this?” he called, his tone maddeningly confident.

You bit your lip, a mix of frustration and determination coursing through you. Without thinking, you scooped up a handful of snow, taking aim.

“Watch and learn,” you muttered, letting the snowball fly.

The snowball struck Mattheo square in the face, the impact sending a puff of white powder into the air. His cocky smirk vanished as he stumbled back, momentarily stunned. For a moment, there was complete silence. Then, Blaise let out a whoop of laughter, clapping his gloved hands together.

“Did you see that?” Blaise crowed, pointing at Mattheo. “Perfect shot!”

Theo grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulders, his chest puffed out in mock pride. “That’s my sister,” he declared loudly, as if your victory was his own.

Mattheo, however, was far from amused. He brushed the snow from his face, his dark eyes narrowing as a slow, dangerous smirk replaced his earlier expression. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, his tone low and taunting. “You’re dead.”

Before you could react, Mattheo lunged, scooping up another handful of snow as he sprinted toward you.

“Oh, no, no, no!” you cried, laughing as you turned and bolted, your boots crunching through the snow.

“You better run!” Mattheo called after you, his voice laced with playful menace.

The others’ laughter faded into the background as you ran, your heart pounding in time with your footsteps. You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of Mattheo hot on your heels, his curls bouncing as he pursued you.

“Is that the best you’ve got, Riddle?” you taunted breathlessly, your voice carried by the cold winter air. “Too slow!”

Mattheo let out a bark of laughter, his pace quickening. “Oh, you’re going to regret that, little brat.”

Your boots skidded slightly as you darted toward the edge of the forest, the thick trees looming ahead. The snow was deeper here, slowing your steps as you wove between the trunks, your laughter mingling with the sound of Mattheo’s footsteps close behind.

“You can’t run forever, Y/N!” he called, his voice teasing but edged with determination.

“Maybe I can,” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder just as your foot caught on a hidden root, sending you tumbling forward into the snow.

You barely had time to react before Mattheo was on you, his weight pressing you into the ground as he pinned you beneath him.

“Gotcha,” he panted, his breath visible in the icy air.

You squirmed beneath him, the cold snow soaking through your coat, but his grip on your wrists was firm. His body hovered just above yours, his knees bracketing your hips, his face inches from yours as he caught his breath.

“You—” you started, your voice breathless, “—are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his dark eyes glittering with amusement, “are terrible at running away.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, but the playfulness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something heavier. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back to your eyes. “Do you always have to be so difficult?”

“Do you always have to be so arrogant?” you shot back, though your voice lacked its usual bite.

You tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, but it was impossible with the weight of his body pressing against yours, the snow beneath you doing little to cool the fire building between you. The world seemed to shrink, the towering trees and falling snow fading into the background as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his fingers wrapped around your wrists, the way his breath ghosted across your skin.

The corners of his mouth tugged upward, his smirk softening. “Maybe.” For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension crackling like electricity in the icy air. His eyes dropped to your lips briefly, and your heart stuttered in your chest. The snowflakes that clung to his dark curls only made him look more unreal, and you cursed yourself for how badly you wanted to close the distance.

His head dipped slightly, his breath warm against your cold skin. Your chest tightened, every nerve in your body on high alert as his lips hovered inches from yours. You also wanted to push him away, to say something that would break the spell, but you couldn’t move.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “We can’t. Theo—”

“Do you always let your brother dictate your life,” he interrupted, his voice low and rough, “or is it just when it comes to me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long. And then, before you could second-guess yourself, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was hesitant at first, as though testing the boundaries of what you would allow. But when you didn’t pull away, his hand cupped the side of your face, and the kiss deepened. It was electric—messy and hurried, but so full of unspoken desire that it left you breathless.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were dark, his breath coming in soft puffs of white in the cold air. “Can we try that again?” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost pleading.

You nodded, and he didn’t hesitate this time. His lips captured yours with an intensity that stole the breath from your lungs. This wasn’t a tentative brush or a cautious test—it was raw and unapologetic, fueled by the unspoken tension that had simmered between you for far too long. His hand slid into your hair, tangling in the strands, as he tilted your head to deepen the angle.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, a silent plea for entrance, and without thinking, you parted them for him. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your knees weak, even as you were pinned beneath him. It was intoxicating, his taste—warm and heady, like something you could drown in if you weren’t careful.

His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, as though he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The snow beneath you was cold, biting against your skin, but his kiss was fire—a scorching contrast that left you dizzy and grasping for more.

Each movement of his lips against yours, every deliberate stroke of his tongue, felt like a claim, as though he were staking a silent but undeniable ownership over the moment—and over you.

But the sharp sound of Theo’s voice echoed through the forest, shattering the moment like glass.

“Y/N! Mattheo! Where the hell are you?”

You broke apart instantly, your breaths ragged as you stared at each other, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you. Mattheo’s jaw clenched, his frustration visible, but he pushed himself up, extending a hand to help you to your feet.

As you brushed the snow from your clothes, you avoided his gaze, your cheeks burning despite the cold. Theo’s voice called out again, closer this time, and Mattheo swore under his breath.

“This isn’t over,” he said quietly, his tone firm but laced with something softer.

You didn’t trust yourself to respond, so you simply nodded, your heart still pounding as you started back toward the clearing together.

You weren’t sure what had just happened, or how you were going to face Theo—or Mattheo—after this. But one thing was certain: the line you’d both been so careful not to cross had been obliterated, and there was no going back.

[alystrin03]

Varric got up and started to light a pipe.

"You know, I have a talent for finding broken women across my path. Hawke had lost half of her family the first time I met her, and the Inquisitor was trapped in a prison, accused of killing the Divine, no less."

"So, are we now in one of your stories?"

Varric started walking towards the gunwale. Leaving their stuff aside, Rook followed him. he leaned on the railing, looking out to the ocean.

"They usually begin as ours did. A chance meeting in the filthiest bar in town, a strong young woman with a lifetime of problems, and an incredibly handsome writer in search of allies. My favorite tropes. The beginning may not be the most glamorous, but sometimes, along the way, you can find small wonders."

Rook looked where he was pointing his pipe and glimpsed wings and the bluish glow of a dragon emerging from the water in the distance. It was the first one she had seen in her whole life. The giant beast was dark blue and yellow, magnificent flying over the water edge. Varric watched as her eyes lit up and she smiled broadly, marveling at what she was seeing, and smiled at her in return. The wind was ruffling her hair, and he could feel the light was finally coming back to her. He knew that, once again, he had not made a mistake in choosing his traveling companion.

Rook leaned her elbows on the railing and leaned her head back, enjoying the afternoon sun. They had a whole journey ahead of them, full of dangers for sure, but just this once, she would enjoy the ride. The Shadow had faded for good, and this time was as good as any to learn how to walk in the light again.

----

I've just got my comm from @mooreaux and I'm literally in tears. This art shows the final scene of my origin Rook story and they have perfectly captured the mood of it

If you are curious, here is the full link

Murder (49947 words) by Alystra Chapters: 10/10

Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Viago de Riva/Rook Series: Part 1 of Birdcage - A tale of the Antivan Crows

Summary:

She wanted to believe that there was a point to it all, but she struggled to find out what it was. She had been taken off the street, which was no small thing, and the Crows had given her a home, but that didn't mean things would be easy from now on. He alone had believed in her. Only Viago had been her friend and her support during the long years of training. And there wouldn't be a single thing in this world that she wasn't willing to sacrifice to fulfill his dreams. This is the story of Alecto de Riva, from the moment she was found by pure chance until she became one of the Antivan Crows, and of what happened until, one night, she decided that she would not allow the Antaam to enslave her people anymore.

[Pre-Veilguard Origin Rook story]

[fushiguruuzzzz]

V ⊹ ࣪ ˖ For the First Time 

Series mlist 

Tags — mentions of alcohol and marijuana, Megumi being ominous asl 

Words — 1.7k 

When the scent of bitter alcohol and the piercing purple light of the LED’s illuminating the bustling frat house hit you, it was clear you’d be in for a long night. No matter how much you denied the allegations from your friends, you were perfectly aware of your rather low tolerance to alcohol. It wasn’t like it was your fault, you just weren’t a drinker! Sure you’d sip on a beverage every once in a while, occasionally take a joint if it was offered to you on nights where your mind was all too busy for the atmosphere. A party just wasn’t your usual scene, so when you did show up… you indulged. In high school, your presence was a telltale sign to pull out their cameras and hope nothing was broken. It was funny in hindsight, but the excruciating headaches and the embarrassment for the days afterwards made it less enjoyable. 

Most people had already shown up. There were many of them, scattered all around the different rooms and the expanse of the outdoors. They really went all out, though you doubted it was actually the frat boys who did the decorating. Thank goodness for sorority girls and their liking for jocks. There were faux cobwebs strewn about every corner, table, every nook and cranny. There were ghosts and spiders galore, giving the usually blank, testosterone reeking building an air of festivity. 

You glanced to Toge, Yuta, and Maki grouped around you as you made your way to the kitchen. Red solo cups decorated the tables in stacks, inviting you to take a drink. Who were you to resist? 

“We should put a GoPro on [name], document all of the stupid shit she’ll do tonight,” Panda interrupted your thoughts, followed by an overly noisy slurp of his drink. Your eyes narrowing in a glare, sneering at him. You would’ve flipped him off, had your hands not been occupied by the bottle of vodka in your hand. You weren’t that hardcore, though, it was being poured in small doses into your cup filled with fruit punch. 

“Please, if it happens it’s your fault,” Maki rolled her eyes, pushing past Panda to lean against the wall parallel to the drink table. “You just couldn’t resist the cold takeout in the fridge, huh? Now we’ve all got to deal with Kat Stratford Junior.” 

Toge sniggered, his slender hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Maybe he did it on purpose. I didn’t get good enough pictures last time,” he grinned. You made a face at him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck you. All of you,” you said, no actual heat behind your words. Yuta looked at you like a dumbfounded, kicked puppy, to which you grinned and mouthed “not you”. Turning away from them, you grumbled under your breath for a moment, retrieving your phone from your pocket. 

“Where’s Yuji?” you muttered. You were sort of looking forward to meeting his friends, especially the girl. 

“I’m going to say hi to Yuji, you guys wanna come?” you offered, returning your cell to its rightful place in your jacket. The four just gave subtle actions of decline, the shake of a head or the slight wave of a hand. 

“We’ll stick to ourselves for now,” Maki said, eyeing you over the rim of her slender glasses. “We can find you later, though!” Yuta added, that bright smile finding its way on to his face. 

You nodded, severing off from the group. You weaved through heaps of sweaty bodies and costumes that showed far too much skin, almost getting knocked over by what looked like Arthur Morgan in a speedo. Suppressing the grimace on your face, you pushed past the doors and scanned the grassy terrain for a familiar head of pink hair. 

Spotted. Pink tufts of hair peeking out of a royal blue cap, just across the yard. Luckily most people stuck to the inside of the frat, a closer proximity to the alcohol they were all desperate to get their hands on. It was much more peaceful out here, the gentle chill of the night air stark in contrast to the mugginess of inside, all of the body heat and sweat that you were far too sober to ignore. 

You approached the boy, gentle steps leading you right up to him and one other girl. You assumed it was Kugisaki, the girl he’d mentioned was one of his best friends. At least you hoped so, hoped that it was her and not someone Yuji was trying to make a move on. 

He turned around, the blurry figure of blue and yellow showing up in his peripheral. He smiled wide upon noticing you, giving a friendly wave and a “Hey!” 

“Hi,” you said, giving a polite grin and a little wave, eyeing the orange haired girl by his side. He gently nudged you closer, motioning to her. “This is Nobara, I told you about her,” he said. 

She eyed you for a moment, seeming to assess you. She took in your appearance, your energy, your facial expression. She sure stared a lot. Suddenly you wished you’d been dressed as something a little more impressive than Pete the Cat. 

“Hi, I’m [name],” you said, letting out a slightly nervous huff of laughter. You considered yourself to be relatively chill around people, not usually the awkward type unless they were, but there was something about her… 

Her assessment seemed to end, a less intense look in her eyes as a smile tugged at her lips. “I know. Yuji mentioned you. I… I love your costume,” she said, grinning. Though, it didn’t seem like she was laughing at you, just amused. You couldn’t help but laugh along, even if for just a moment. The air seemed to calm in that moment, though it was short lived for you, much to your obliviousness.

“Did your other friend not show?” you asked, turning to Yuji. Nobara glanced at him, as if she knew something you didn’t. She looked almost… anticipated? He shook his head, glancing around. “No, he’s here… where’d he go?” he thought aloud, glancing around with a perplexed look on his face. 

He seemed to spot him, his face lighting up. He jumped up and down comically, waving. “There he is. Fushiguro!” 

Your heart fucking sank. Fushiguro? Like… Megumi Fushiguro? You should’ve known. Introvert, history major, grumpy, the convenient way his name was left out of conversations… all of the signs were there, you just hadn’t taken them. 

You went stiff as a board, not daring to look behind you as the sound of approaching footsteps rang through your ears. Everything else seemed to drown out. The music, the endless chatter of drunk college kids, everything except for the steady thump of feet against the ground. His shadow approached before he did, the spikes of his hair sticking up in all directions, swaying softly with the breeze that blew by. 

“Hey. Who’s-“ he began, but his words caught in his throat. In your peripheral, you saw him turn his head in your direction. 

His eyes widened, lips parting. He was fucking blank in the mind, he felt as if the colour had drained from his face. You. It was you, standing in front of him. The person he’d been longing for since he was fifteen, the tear that hung inside his soul forever. Yet now, he had no idea what to say. It was rare that Megumi lost his composure, but he felt as though he didn’t even know what that word meant in that moment. 

You swallowed thickly. So he knew who you were, obviously. He did remember you. He was just a little shocked to see a friend from middle school again, right? In the back of your mind, you were half expecting him to get you back for that punch. You—excruciatingly slowly—turned to your side, to the empty space that had been filled by him. “Hi,” you managed to croak out. You finally got a good look at him for what felt like the very first time. He’d matured, obviously, his face more slender and defined. He wore that same spiky hairstyle, had that same look in his eye but… softer. His ears were pierced up, too, as well as his eyebrow. It suited him, it suited him too well. He was a spitting image of his past self, just more mature, more handsome, and less fiery. You were almost getting distracted now, you were sure you were staring. Luckily, Yuji (sort of?) was there to save the day. 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, smiling. “This is my friend [name]! I told you about her,” he said, but there was something that lied beneath. A boyish cockiness of sorts. Oh. He knew. He fucking knew. 

You hummed, nodding. “Yep. I’ll uh, I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get a drink.” You waved your empty cup gently in front of Yuji’s face, slithering out of his grasp and back into the frat house. A pair of eyes followed you the whole way in, their heat lingering with you even after disappearing through the door. An all too familiar, yet all too foreign gaze. 

The moment you were out of sight, Megumi seemed to snap out of his little daze. He turned back to Yuji and Nobara, and when met with the guilty looks on their faces, Yuji was hit so hard that cartoon birds started circling around his head. He was seeing stars. “What the fuck?!” Megumi gritted, though Yuji couldn’t actually answer, it seemed that Megumi had knocked him stupid. Or rather, stupider. 

The drinks went down much easier after that. Soon enough, you were doing beer pong with Yuji while a tense Megumi lingered in the background, along with Nobara who chose to sip on her overly fruity drink and observe. She got drunk on her own terms. The two of you were stumbling around, missing the damn cups every single time, your vision doubling from how much alcohol you’d ingested. It was the only thing that made Megumi’s presence less scary, less… unnerving. Damn, you really were just like your mother. Everything else was a blur, just Yuji and the bright purple lights and the ravenette boy in the corner that you just couldn’t ignore. Maybe a couple more shots and you wouldn’t be afraid. But… what were you afraid of? Him, or what he brought out in you? 

Taglist !¡ —

@meowymeowbreow @1l-ynn @kiss-my-asscheeks @missunrise @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll

Wrote ts in one sitting and didn’t proofread icl guys why am I lwk flopping smh its aight chat oh also sorry about the little mother callout thing that sorta uh… slipped!

[thepinkprincesss]

can you write something with babydaddy!jj where he like kind of abandoned r & the baby then came randomly like at 12 am at her doorstep and wins her back?

this is s1 jj!! the timeline where the pogues r really deep in the gold thing so yhat should explain why hes not there for his kid :p . p.s. sorry this is so short💔💔💔

babydaddy!jj always came back to you, or at least found his way back. in some special way that made you feel warm inside, he considered you his light— christ, you were the woman who carried and birthed his baby. you'd always be his light, through thick and thin you were the woman he'll retreat back to in the end.

so, it's no surprise when on a random friday night at one a.m. that he's at your doorstep. he's wearing his typical gray muscle shirt that's original color is beginning to fade— with a pair of cargo shorts to go along with it. of course you open it, he'd probably stopped by to do his annual three-week check-up on your shared baby that you'd started to think he forgot about. although your baby is long asleep now and you should blow him off, scold him for being absent in your babies life after during the creation of your sweet girl all he'd done was promise he'd be there, hell even hit him. he'd left you alone a quarter of your pregnancy, returning and playing 'dad' role all of a sudden once your baby was due.

you've rehearsed this exact scene in your head more times than you can count. while you were holding your babygirl for the first time and he hadn't been there, you'd lined up words that never even had been in your vocabulary to cuss him out once he came around, your anger and sadness balanced perfectly. instead of marching down to john b's where you knew he'd possibly be, you exchanged all those emotions for love and comfort for your daughter. she'd deserve that.

your face falls, as he stands on your doorstep. you’re tired, as you open the door— tired of his empty promises and tired of him coming back again and again to repeat the same cycle. but your heart skips a beat at the sight of him, a mix of anger, sadness and relief coursing through you. “come to pay us a visit?” you speak up with a quirk of your eyebrow, arms folded over your chest. he shrugs, his gaze flickering over you — taking in how your frame, now curvier, looks in those clothes, his eyes lingering a fraction longer than you would expect. “yeah. figured i’d pop by, say hello.”

he pushes his hands into his pockets, gaze drifting to the window he knows is you and your little girl’s room, before returning to your face. “she sleep?” you nod. “has been for hours.” he seems to soften at that, his eyes still looking weary yet he can’t help the warmness tugging at his heart to think of his daughter tucked up in her cosy room. he hums, nodding his head. a heavy silence falls, before he’s clearing his throat to speak. “can i come in?”you nod, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, taking in the sight of him. you step aside, the door slowly swinging open.

he gives you a smirk before stepping past, brushing against you, taking in your perfume that he can recognize from many months ago from a night he'll never forget, his hand grazing yours and sending a shiver up your spine — your body betraying you with its response. the shiver doesn’t go unnoticed by him. he feels proud of himself, at how he still affects you even after all the distance. he steps fully inside, his eyes scanning your living room as you close and lock the door behind him, watching him take a couple of lazy steps around it, running a hand over the back of the couch. “place looks different.” he speaks up, before stopping to look at you. “you get some new furniture or something?” he quirks a brow, eyeing you up.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at the small talk. you can feel his gaze roaming over your body, can see how his focus lingers in key places, causing your cheeks to flush with heat from how his blue eyes rake over your curves through your thin nightshirt. you clear your throat, forcing him to meet your gaze, though it doesn’t seem to stop him much — his gaze flickering down to your bare legs. “only difference is all our babies stuff.” you simply respond, your eyes boring into his.

he chuckles lightly, finally returning his gaze to your face and meeting his eyes with yours, holding your gaze intently. “mmm, so she gets the special treatment around here now, huh?” he murmurs, taking a small step towards you. you back up against the door without much thought, his smirk spreading on his face — clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. he takes another step. and another. he doesn’t stop until he’s in front of you, now invading your space, his body so close to yours that the fabric of your nightshirt brushes against his chest.

your breath hitches, his proximity making you dizzy. his gaze softens, his eyes drinking you in. he reaches out a hand, his thumb skimming across your lower lip, the gesture so tender that you almost forget who you’re dealing with. "course she gets special treatment, she's m'baby."

he chuckles, his laugh is soft. he leans in closer, the hand on your chin now going to grip your waist, his fingers digging into your hip. “yeah, she is.” his eyes are locked onto your own, his touch igniting a wave of familiar sensations that you'd been trying to forget for months. “she gettin' everything she needs?" he murmurs, his other hand resting against the door. he has you trapped between his arms.

“she's healthy. despite the fact her daddy been missing for months on end.” your retort is sharp, a defensive shield that you’ve built up over the months, as his hands on you and close proximity throws you momentarily off guard.

he winces at that, shaking his head. he opens his mouth, as if to say something, but stops himself. he looks torn, and for a moment, it almost makes you feel guilty. he drops his gaze, before looking up at you again, a glint of something in his eye you only just catch. a quiet moment passes, before he takes a deep breath, stepping closer, your body squished against the door as his body now presses against yours. "i ain't mean to… be gone so long, okay?"

you want to scoff at him. you want to push him off of you and tell him to leave. but the truth is that you missed him. you missed his laugh, the way he would look at you. you missed having another hand around to help with the baby, the emotional support you’d always gotten from him. you sigh, your head tilting back against the door as you look at him, your eyes searching his face — hoping to find something, anything "can't go in-n-out her life.”

he knows you’re softening. he knows he just has to keep you talking to him. he knows he just has to keep himself pressed up against you like this, his touch making you feel things you’ve tried your best to forget for so long. he watches you closely, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. “then lemme stay, darlin’. lemme stay tonight.” he murmurs, moving to trace his nose along your jaw.

you can practically feel the tension leaving your body as his words wash over you, the fight leaving your eyes. your shoulders drop and you find yourself leaning into his touch, your mind screaming at you that this was a bad idea, but your body simply responding to the way he’re touching you. “stay.” you manage, voice barely above a whisper.he speaks softly, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he ducks his head, resting his forehead against yours.

you feel every breath he takes, the scent of him filling your senses and sending your head spinning. he's so close, closer than he's been in months, and you can feel his breath warm against your skin. he closes his eyes, his voice a low rumble as he speaks again. “missed ya. missed this, missed our baby.”

with your defenses lowered and your emotional barriers crumbling, you give in to the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be close to him, needing to feel the comfort of his presence again. you nod weakly, your voice soft and vulnerable. "i missed you too. missed you and her. missed being close to you like this." you swallow hard, tilting your body towards him — silently inviting him closer.

his gaze softens as he takes in your vulnerability, the way you’re just crumbling in front of him, the way you sound like you need him as much as he needs you. he can’t help the wave of possessiveness that washes over him. he growls softly, his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you more firmly against him. “m’here now, mama.” he murmurs, his lips skimming across your exposed shoulder, a small shiver running through your body as he begins to pepper you with light kisses up your neck.

the reassurance in his tone soothed you enough, at least enough to end up on your back with him in between your legs yet again.

[dovveri]

sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

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could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

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the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

[aurorasgate]

Hello hello! I adore your writing, you truly have a gift for immersing the reader and portraying such intense emotions and beautiful scenes!

For the fall prompt event, i propose wishes + soft to rough kiss with diluc (can be nsfw if you like!)

diluc x reader | 16+ please! nothing explicit but for my own comfort since there’s some spicy implications

falling for you event (event requests closed)

ahh thank you so so much for your sweet words! it makes me really happy that you enjoy my writing and requested something for my event 🩷🥺 as always, i am but a puddle of love for this man

autumn nights at the winery always bring with them a chilling snow kissed breeze from dragonspine. cold enough your husband may very well scold you for being out in it so late if he catches you but despite his worries, it wasn’t so bad. especially on nights like tonight when you were missing diluc too much to sleep.  

the warmth of the blanket wrapped around your shoulders is reminiscent of him; his natural heat, the burning flames of his heart, that protect you from more than just the cold. after being in the study for so long it smells like him too; rich with wine, charred oak barrels and a hint of his shampoo. you tug it tighter around you as you walk through the vineyard to the cecilia garden, staring up at the stars that twinkle and shine above you.

in the moonlight, as the seasons change, the petals of the flowers draw closer together and are painted in the luminescent glow of the moon that’s so striking against the dark shadowed leaves. the world around you is lit by the moonlight but you’ve walked down this path many times before and don’t need the light to make your way to your usual spot on the gazebo that rests in the middle of the flower field.

from this particular spot on the gazebo, under a clear night sky and a nearly full moon, the dirt road leading from mond to the winery can be seen in the distance, waiting on bated breath for the familiar figure to pass by as he too often does. ready to guide diluc back to you.

sitting on the carved stone, you lean against the pillar and gather your legs to your chest and under your blanket, wondering if maybe one day the place you rest will have a lasting imprint of your longing, bit by bit wearing away with each time you settle in the same spot when you can’t sleep without your beloved by your side, when he’s putting himself in danger. no matter how capable you know your dark knight to be.

and despite your restless heart, the world around you feels calm, peaceful. just like he has worked so hard to make it. even the stars above you shine with hope and promise and when you see one falling from the sky in a streak of silver and cobalt blue, you let it take your wish of diluc’s safe and quick return with it.

you aren’t sure how long passes with your eyes on the starry sky and your daydreaming mind wandering to visions of bright red hair through your fingers, unbelievably strong arms around you, rose colored eyes burning with a love so deep it could easily consume you both, and a steady beating heart under your palms. it felt like forever in the wake of your yearning to be with him and yet like only a blinking moment has passed before your daydreams and reality become one. 

with how he suddenly appears before you, you half wonder if the unbelievably handsome man in front of you is a manifestation of your dreaming, wishing, heart. seemingly untouched by the monsters lurking in the night that he pulls from the shadows. so striking against the dark that blankets him in soft moonlight. 

but when he touches your face, the heat of his palm seeping through the leather of his gloves and warming your cool cheeks, you know without a doubt how real he is and that your wish had certainly been granted.

“what are you doing out here?” he asks, the concern in his tone reflecting back at you in his worried gaze, the brush of his thumb on your cheek melting any bit of cold you were feeling before. it’s so gentle and lingers on your skin for long after he’s moved his hand. “it’s not safe, nor warm enough-”

“i’m okay,” you promise him with a smile that meets your eyes. melting into his touch, you nuzzle your cheek against his palm, wishing it was the mix of soft and marred skin you were feeling rather than the leather that often kept his hands from your view. “and i’m not cold.” how could you be on the grounds of your home that has held more love than just the two of you share and especially now that he’s here with you. 

letting go of your blanket, you reach for the lapel of dilucs jacket and don’t give him a chance to say anything more about you being out in the night or the cold. and instead, much to your pleasure, all you only hear is the deep murmur of your name from his lips as you capture him in a soft, slow kiss. like a soothing balm to both your worries that you take great care in applying.

but it’s not long before you don’t hold back - can’t hold back now that he’s within your reach and with every touch of your lips to his, it’s only making you need him more.

diluc meets you in earnest, with the same delicate lock your lips in tender kisses. he lays you down on the messily sprawled out blanket on top of the night chilled stone of the gazebo with your legs around his waist and his hand cradling the back of your head but you don’t feel any cold with the way he presses your body to his with his other hand and with each kiss that feels more claiming than the last. that has you both burning as hot as a flame. 

your muffled noises are caught on the gentle breeze, drifting away to join the otherwise still night and it’s as though there is only the two of you in all of teyvat. as your lips grow hungrier, messier, it’s like the night above you will stretch on and on, until you’re both ready to leave this spot and prepare for another day where you may have to be apart for more than either of you would like.

but just like tonight, you would always end up back in each other's arms.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[0wlettie]

based off this tweet that kind of just hijacked my brain and now i’ve gotta jot something down for it, with my own added spin ofc; warning, messy asl and incredibly self indulgent idk man i just love reader being down bad and unhinged for the boys ;;;;

professor!rafayel x obsessed stalker!reader

you love art. though your own skills are mediocre at best, you still find joy through creating and observing.

your love for art leads you here now, in your final year of high school and on a field trip to a nearby pop up exhibit filled with rookie artists looking to showcase their works. and, as one of the few kids actually engaged in the different mediums shown and being the only senior in the class, your teacher allows you a bit more freedom to wander on your own. so you casually meander down the different exhibits, fascinated by the sculptures and different paintings you come across. there are even a few of the artists loitering about, and you have a conversation here and there with them about their pieces and other things like that. eventually, you find yourself in a small corner of the pop up, drawn in by the red velvet ropes blocking off people from getting closer, as well as the few envious and awed whispers you can pick up from nearby gossiping rookies.

curious, your eyes sway over to the area. your breath hitches and your mouth drops a little in shock at what you see.

stretched to fit the wall from top to bottom, it’s the largest painting at the pop up. half the painting is cut by dark, rolling waves, the other half covered by a jagged cliffside. moonlight reflects off the top of the ocean, the stars dotting across the sky in abstract patterns. you even think you can make out a few constellations nestled among the sparkling white dots.

you can almost hear the gentle ‘whoosh’ of the waves as they crash against the bottom of the cliff. can almost feel the sea breeze as it brushes against your cheeks, cool and akin to a lover’s caress. can almost smell the sea salt rising on the cold dark of the night. there’s a profound feeling emitting from the painting, one that surprises you in its intensity.

‘loneliness.’

the beauty you see is absolutely breathtaking, but the loneliness stands out to you the most. there’s a sorrow buried within the dark shade of the ocean, empty despite reflecting the brilliant light of the moon. a yearning found within the jagged strokes of the cliff, like it’s sitting there and waiting for someone they know won’t return. the differing shades of blue that make up the piece echo out strong notes of melancholy, and your eyes burn the longer that feeling lingers around you. tears prick the corners of your eyes and a lump forms within your throat. its visceral, the ache you feel looking at this painting. you understand intimately how crushing and all consuming that feeling of loneliness can bring.

you instantly fall in love with the painting.

your eyes flick to the plaque sitting in front. there’s no name for the painting you can see, but the artist name is printed in flowing cursive script that you easily read. ‘rafayel’ sprawls across the starch white of the card, and you have the sudden need to meet this person. to see them and figure out just what made them create such a painting like this. a painting that seems to speak directly to you.

it doesn’t take you long to search up the artist online.

rafayel qi is a few years older than you are and hails from verona. he’s a newbie in the art scene, a nobody really, but his natural talent and skills quickly make him somebody. you understand why, seeing one of his paintings first hand. what you don’t understand, however, is the lack of information about him besides his name, age and his birth city. there’s basically nothing about him on the web; no pictures, social media, no interviews or q&a’s, not even a website for him to showcase his art. nothing! it drives you insane that you can’t seem to find out anything about him, and for a week straight you try your damndest too. even begging/bribing your nerdy techie of a classmate to try and dig up something, but even she can’t find much more. which leaves you out of two hundred dollars and with no answers.

so you desperately keep your ear out while weeks turn into months and you graduate from high school. when you get the barest of news that rafayel signed with an agent and is now doing more galleries, you nearly cry from joy. you try your best to get tickets to his future galleries, but they’re all so stupidly expensive and high class that your poor wallet can’t afford to spare the money—not when you’ve got to pay for the university expenses that your scholarship can’t cover.

(and yes, you did manage to skirt by just well enough to snag the art scholarship you have. you don’t personally think you have what it takes in terms of talent, but your hard work pays off when you really set your mind to it and buckle down. your medium of choice is a bit old fashioned and tricky to maneuver, but you like the feeling of charcoal and how pretty you can make those dark smudges look. you even experiment a little when it comes to adding color to your sketches, though your various attempts are abysmal and you vow to never show anyone how bad they look.)

so you try and wait for another opportunity, stalking forums and art news websites for any other information you can possibly get your hands on. it’s here, one random wednesday afternoon while scrolling through your social feed in the university library, that you come across an article. they’re talking about up and coming artists, and your fingers are already clicking on the link before you can even think about it. it takes a moment for the page to load, but when it does, you choke your spit.

there’s a picture there to greet you, one that sets your face ablaze and makes your chest throb with how fast your heart is beating. in the lower right hand corner, you can see in tiny text words that frazzle your mind. ‘rafayel qi (left) posing with interviewer lea smith (right) in front of his newest piece.’

your eyes bounce back and forth from the painting you see to the ethereally beautiful man shooting the camera a slight smirk. his arms are crossed, one hand buried within the crook of his elbow, the other almost playfully clutching a paintbrush. his hair looks artfully tousled, colored a pretty purple that compliments the strange color of his eyes that you can just barely make out from behind the screen of your phone. you still aren’t sure what color they are, and no matter how many times you crop and zoom in, you can’t be certain if they’re purple or blue. fitted in an unbuttoned white shirt and tight black slacks that emphasize the length of his legs and the tight shape of his waist, with flawless pale skin and an unfairly pretty face, you know that you’re immediately gone.

the need coursing through you to finally meet this man is intense. you feel as if you’re about to shake out of your skin the longer you look at the photo, and you don’t hesitate to download it and crop out the lady, until it’s just rafayel staring back at you. you immediately switch back to the article and read through it, taking your time to admire the newest piece to his collection before rereading the article a few times—just to really cement the information in your mind. as lame and bland as the questions are, you feel as if you’re accomplishing something anyway. the little information you get paints a picture of the artist that’s captured your attention so thoroughly. of rafayel, who is hands down the most gorgeous person you’ve ever come across.

it becomes sort of a…compulsion, after that. you use that picture you’ve gotten as your home and lockscreen. and your idle time outside of school work and your part time job is spent endlessly searching for more crumbs. as the months morph into a year, then two, your collection of rafayel pictures grows exponentially. the artist chooses to somewhat engage with the outside world more, and you honestly can’t be more grateful. you don’t get many interviews after that, unfortunately, so your information is still limited even now. but still! any piece you gather feels like a win, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem.

you know he’s a pisces and that his birthday is march 6th. you know that he never officially went to any art school, and that he’s got a natural gift for picking apart color swatches and shades. you know that he’s charismatic enough to carry conversations, and while you can see someone playful peak through his aloof demeanor every now and again, he more often than not stays distant when being interviewed. you know that he truly has a passion for art of any kind, and that his own speaks deeply for him. he continuously paints about lemuria, the recently discovered ancient ruins of a civilization long thought to be a myth. you know he holds that place close to him, based off the haunting and sorrowful energy radiating from his works, but the why of it still escapes you.

you think you know him as well as a certified stranger can, and it gnaws at you that you don’t know more. you feel like a beast, really, with how much you hunger for more of him. with how strong the desire to meet with him, to speak to him is. it frightens you, these intense feelings you have. but that fear easily gets pushed to the wayside whenever you catch a glimpse of rafayel’s picture in your phone, or when you happen to catch sight of a lake or ocean wide enough for the reflection to glimmer underneath the sun. there’s just something about him that captivates you entirely, and you have no choice but to give in to that desire to be near him. but he rarely makes physical appearances outside of private galas and exhibits. so you’re stuck watching him through your screen, constantly checking for updates or idly staring at his pretty face captured in various subtle expressions.

you glance at your phone screen as you stick close to the walls of the university hallway. it’s a picture of him, caught in a side profile and wearing an expensive dark blue suit. a candid caught by a fansite you’ve been following—a fansite that takes commissions for a hefty price. a price you were more than willing to pay two weeks ago. as bad a financial decision that was, it still makes you happy regardless. you’ve got two brand new pictures of rafayel, two pictures that only you have access too. it’s like you were the one to take those pictures, if you really think about it.

because you feel like it, you flick open your phone and look at the second picture you paid for. rafayel’s face is turned to the side and some of his hair is obscuring his eyes, so you still can’t determine the damn color, but the visual of his defined and exposed collarbone more than make up for it. you sigh a little, a smile curling up the corner of your lip as you click your phone closed. you shake it a little and wait for it to briefly light up, sighing again when you get another glimpse of the first photo.

looking at rafayel so early in the morning is like a shot of espresso for you. this particular course—art theory & critical studies—is one that’s criminally early, and you’re dead fucking tired from being up the night prior reading the latest article about rafayel. nothing new for you was found, but it’s hard for you to ignore things like that, not when there’s a chance you could find out something new. you notice the time and grimace a bit, picking up your slow walk to more of a power walk/light jog mix.

you’re on your way to class now, and while you aren’t exactly late, you will be if you don’t hurry. it’s the beginning of your third year at university and while you feel like your artistic sense has grown, you still don’t feel super confident in your work. not enough to want to deal with professor kim and his harsh critiques and boring lectures. but, unfortunately, if you want to continue being in school at such a steep discount, you have to follow the rules and guidelines to your scholarship. so here you are, power walking into class with a grim look on your face more suitable for a soldier rather than a uni student.

you walk so fast in your haste that you actually end up tripping over the lip of the door to class. your phone slips out of your hand like it was especially greased for you to drop, and it clatters to the floor with a loud noise. the sound immediately draws stares to you, and you can feel your face burn from embarrassment. and because your day can’t get any worse, you watch as your phone slides across the ground until they land at an unfamiliar pair of loafers. you frown, eyes trailing up mile long legs clad in brown slacks. up, up, up your eyes go until you land on a face you never imagined you’d see in person.

you swear that everyone in the room can hear how your heartbeat stutter and stops, like the dying engine of a motor as you stare into the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. you understand why you’ve never been able to place the color now, the bright blue of rafayel’s iris mingles with a soft pink, producing a hypnotizing effect as he blinks. you’re suddenly reminded of sunsets; of those moments right before the sun fully peeks over the horizon, the sky blazing in various hues of purple, pink and blue.

embarrassingly, you find that your throat is completely dry as you watch him glance down. with a raised eyebrow and a decidedly unamused quirk of his lip, he bends down and picks up your phone. your jerk forward, but it’s already too late because as soon as your phone jostles, your screen lights up and rafayel is faced with your lock screen.

he freezes in place, the look in his eyes going unreadable as he stares down at his own photo.

your entire body tenses, and you feel like the entire class is staring at you two, which only serves to make you even more nervous. you didn’t think this day would come. never in your life would you have imagined seeing him here if all places, in your uni class. and dressed like that? a smart brown suit that molds to his lean figure, black leather gloves, sparkling silver glasses and small black gauges to top off the look. you think you might actually just keel over and die—either from the fear, embarrassment or the sudden wash of horny thoughts flooding your mind. you honestly don’t know which one you’d prefer.

he finally moves what feels like years later, but was in actuality only a few moments of awkward silence. you’re expecting him to be grossed out, maybe even a little scared and uncomfortable. it can’t feel good to come across a complete stranger and see that they have you saved as their lockscreen, like some creepy fan. what you aren’t expecting, however, is the smug curl of his lips. his eyes flick to meet yours, and your rapidly pounding heart stops at the look he gives you. full of something dark and hot enough to make you twitch.

‘you dropped this, miss…?’ he easily hands over the phone, bending down slightly like…like he wants to get a better look at you. the musical lilt of his voice turns the slightest bit playful as he lightly cocks his head to the side. it’s a cheeky gesture, and you awkwardly fumble for your phone, keeping his stare the entire time. your fingers brush against his skin and you can’t fight off the shiver that travels down your spine and up your arms, goosebumps raising long your skin. you go to take your hand back, but you freeze when you can feel the slightest hint of resistance. he raises an eyebrow, and you nearly short circuit at the sight of his pretty eyes staring at you over the slouch of the silver frames hanging low on his nose.

right, your name. he’s asking…oh my god fucking rafayel qi is asking for your name—

‘[✦].’ you shakily tell him, and your phone easily goes with you next time you pull. he hums, eyes giving you a full once over before standing to his full height. he gives you a smile, the expression polite and distant as he nods. his entire body language screams professionally cold, but the stare he gives you is the complete opposite.

‘alright then, have a seat miss [✦]. class is about to start.’

your brain turns to complete mush, and you move on autopilot as your name in his voice echoes in your mind. before you realize it, your seated in the front row of the lecture hall. it’s only after rafayel introduces himself to the class, after he begins a powerpoint on art theory and what it means, after you’ve been dazedly staring at him for nearly half the class, do you finally understand what this means.

rafayel is here, teaching your uni course on art theory.

rafayel is going to be your professor.

yah so, uh, this is a thing i hope ya’ll like it >_< i really like how this turned out and am v proud of it so maybe this will get a part two ??? we’ll see, but for now enjoy this lil bit !!

i am a 18+ blog so if you follow and are a minor/ ageless you will be blocked

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Epilogue: Sweet Taste

prev | masterlist

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: How it all boiled down.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 1k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: mentioned death, violence, weapons

a/n: and with this, we've reached the end of supercharged!! that is surreal to me🤯here's a reminder to those of you who may have already reblogged the masterlist to keep on your blog for reference (I'm honoured!), you may want to reblog it again now it's completed so all the links are there! since reblogged posts aren't updated on this wonderful site lol🤡 I also want to give a sincere thank you to everyone who had read, especially those who left even a single comment, reblog, tag or ask. this story was a lot of work but also a lot of fun and I'm so happy now I finally shared it! to hear anyone enjoyed it makes it all worth it😊you guys are the absolute best! I hope you enjoyed the ride, though there's still the epilogue to go👀 let me know what your favourite moment of this series has been!💜💜

“More information has emerged after celebrated hero, Bolt, was found murdered in his home yesterday. Another beloved hero, Monsoon, also fell in the same battle.

“The anonymous attackers, who many theorists have already connected with the lair attacked by a monster earlier the same day, have sent several records to our studio, apparently taken from Bolt’s home. They have… requested that we display these on air.”

The screen cut away from the reporter’s face to a series of photographs. Weapons laid out, one by one, labelled in Namjoon’s handwriting with the locations they were stolen from, and the purpose each one served.

Next, a map with several red crosses marked on it; the places Bolt had attacked, and several more he planned to. Your home was one of them.

There were other files on the drive Jin had mailed to them. Detailing Bolt’s plans, his building of weapons and allowing them to be used to justify his ‘confiscation’. Jin had been careful not to record too much, but it painted a grim picture nonetheless. Had Bolt been preparing to rule the city?

You knew there would be people out there who would never shake their star-studded image of Bolt. But there would be others ready to see him for the monster he was. All that mattered was that you had all shaken up the grip he held over this city.

The last clip that jumped on screen was from only the night before. Of course, Bolt had cameras. And, in the end, it had turned out to be most useful to you.

“Flush out the rats and they’ll have nowhere left to run.”

The dark, fuzzy image shifted into static. The next voice was your own.

“You did this to me.”

Another cut.

“You were nothing before I gave them to you…”

It faded to black again. Good. It was past time for the people to start questioning the man they had idolised for too long. The man who would have thrown their lives away, too, the moment they happened to be in his way.

The reporter’s face returned, looking grave.

“This has left citizens wondering: who was Bolt really? Was he truly as heroic as he seemed?

“But it remains to be seen how we can stay safe in the wake of his demise.

“Next up, we report from the scene of a spate of attacks in the early hours since the hero’s death was announced. And stay tuned to hear from the families who say their loved ones died needlessly when working for Bolt-”

The screen flashed off and you turned to find Hope lowering the remote, hand on hip.

“Good to know the tv still works!” he beamed.

Snorting, you followed him over to the kitchen. The table had been set upright again. All in all, the scene was only partially being lit by the hole in the roof, most of which Jimin had already pieced back together.

An intimidating amount of dust and debris remained to be cleared, but you were sure Yoongi would just hide it by making the space look extra bright and fresh until someone could be bothered to pick up a vacuum cleaner (which may well be buried itself).

Oh yes – Yoongi. You were sure he would be playing his usual lighting tricks again… once he was strong enough. After seeing to Bolt’s fate, he was the first place you had all run to. Hobi and V had already been at his side. You remembered the crushing dread in your chest at seeing their faces, the tightness with which you squeezed Jungkook’s hand.

All you had to do to quell the memory of that feeling was cast your eyes over your white-haired friend. He sat at the table, sagging a little wearily onto his elbows, but grinning begrudgingly up at a giggling Jin and Jimin.

He was alright.

Jungkook sat across from the injured Yoongi, staring just as intently. You knew the protective fire that burned in him for his team, because the same one lived in you. And you had walked through that fire enough times, finally ending up on the right side of it.

Sliding into the seat beside him, you wordlessly put your hand on his back. Let it drift to circle his waist.

Jungkook’s fingers loosened their death grip on his mug, gaze shifting to you. You felt his sigh more than heard it, his back relaxing where you held it. Together you shared a smile.

Although perhaps it wasn’t quite as private as you first thought, because a second later Jin was thumping another mug loudly onto the tabletop. Jumping, you sheepishly turned away from Jungkook and accepted the drink Jin pushed towards you.

“Right!” The eldest clapped his hands to gather attention now that you were all here. “Y/N and I have made some good progress checking inventory. The ceiling seems to be… looking up!” (you all groaned as he erupted into his squeaky laugh) “We’ll be settled back in in no time – with no one to bother us.”

“Quite,” Namjoon agreed. For perhaps the first time, when he turned to face you, you were certain you read pride there. “With Bolt and Monsoon out of the picture, we’ll let Pheonix take their place.”

“So, nothing much to worry about at all!” Jimin chimed in, to a round of chuckles. Even Namjoon gave him an indulgent smile.

A grin of your own on your face, you sipped your drink, welcoming its flavour which nestled beside the sweet taste of revenge curled in your gut. Even with a gap letting fresh air in through the roof, you felt warm all over. Mostly from the heat of the arm pressed against yours.

You couldn’t imagine keeping your distance from Jungkook ever again. Having been victim of his fierce fight so many times, you knew you could always rely on it now he stood by your side.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey💜What was your favourite moment?

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[dahliakbs]

Batfam x Reader: Unexpected Trip To The Future

❥synopsis: You sneak out of the house to hang out with your long time bff only to be caught in the cross fire and forcibly ripped away from your family.

✷

Here you sat alone around the small camp fire, su itrrounded by the endless heaps of trash you'd found that were still of use. The night sky shone a prominent blue colour with the clouds being seen far off in the distance.

The air around you was calm and quiet and seeing as how you were the only human being left on this earth it'd be weird if you all of a sudden started hearing noises.

On nights like this you'd sit around the camp fire and think back to the life you'd lived before the accident occured.

You'd always reminisce back to the day you first came to the manor. Bright eyed and filled with joy and enthusiasm, your closest friend Richard Grayson obviously sharing the same enthusiasm as you.

The two of you were know to be quite inseparable, always being seen together no matter the circumstance. The only times you weren't with each other were when Dick had to go out on patrol, reluctantly leaving you in the cold and dark manor by yourself.

Even though at the time you understood why he had to leave you didn't want him to. Back then it was your clingy behavior that got you into the accident.

Both of you having lost your parents at such a young age had left you yearning for some kind of affection and Dick felt the same way. So at any moment of the day you two would be together, playing whatever games you two could come up with until Bruce came home.

But since you two were together every second of the day you didn't see why you weren't allowed to go out on patrol with them. So when you were sat at home by yourself waiting for Dick to come home you'd just decided that if he wasn't gonna come to you you were gonna come to him.

On that night you'd snuck out of the manor, Alfred having not noticed since you escaped through your bedroom window.

You'd somehow squired one the tracking devices B used to know your precise locations and used it to find your way, arriving in less than ten seconds.

"Dick- I mean Robin I'm here!" You yelled out as soon as you made it to the scene. Having not noticed the intense battle going on between your father figure and the joker.

"N/n what are you doing here?" you could see his eyes light up under the mask as he quickly sprinted of the battle field towards you, arms opened wide and awaiting your hug.

You'd returned it quickly, holding out your hands towards him in a silly manner.

"Don't tell B but I snuck out to come see you, I stole one of his tracking thingies and now here I am" you showed off the gadget in your hands to a wide eyed Dick.

"Wait you stole it?!" He exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention towards the two of you.

"Keep quiet or else you'll get me in trouble-"

"What do we have here" Joker suddenly appeared behind Dick, roughly pushing him out of the way to get a good look at you.

"What's a little thing like you doing out here, did you come to say hi to your old uncle Joker?" he asked, you liked down to his hand. Noticing the strange gun he held in his hand. It looked like any regular gun, just deformed and reeking of a strange acidy smell.

"Get away from them" Dick jumped towards the Joker only to be harshly side kicked away from the two of you.

"Well since your here" he grabbed onto your arm, harshly yanking you closer towards him before flashing his deranged yellow smile at you.

His eyes held a mischievous look in them, bloodshot and looking down towards you as if you were nothing more than a puny joke to him.

"I've been meaning to test this thing out and you seem to be quite eager to help your ole uncle J, right?" He asked, pointing the gun in some random direction and pulling the trigger.

The gun shot out a murky green colour, the murky green forming into a circular portal that led to somewhere unknown.

The panic set in for you as you noticed the smile in his face grow to inhuman proportions. Harshly trying to jerk yourself away from him as you called out for anyone's help.

"Someone help me, anyone" your eyes turned blurry with tears as you turned to Bruce then to Dick for help.

"Daddy please help me" you cried out before you felt yourself being thrown towards the portal.

The last thing you saw before being thrown into you the green portal was Bruce chasing after you, wearing an expression you could only describe as scared and desperate. Calling out to you before you were fully submerged inside the portal.

Immediately feeling your body be transported throughout time and space before finally ending up in the wasteland you currently resided in.

The wasteland being the ruins of the former crime city known as Gotham City. Apparently the world had gone to ruins a little after you'd gone to the future, leaving behind a vast dry land ready to be taken over by mother nature.

And all you could think of as you reminisced and watched over this forgotten city were the regrets you had, you just wanted to see your family one last time.

Seeing that expression on Bruce's face really shook you to your core, you didn't think he'd even cared that much about you until you saw how desperate he looked that night.

One of the biggest regrets you had was not being able to see Dick's face one last time, to atleast be able to see his expression before you left him and all you do about it now was cry and look up to the night sky. Hoping that if there was a god out there that they would send you back to the family you belonged to.

Hoping that if you'd finally be able to confess to tell Dick about the silly feelings you had for him when you were both so young. Or maybe hoping to finally spend some time with your cold and hurt guardian.

And as if someone was really out there listening to your pleas you saw a familiar murky green colour fill up the space between you and the campfire.

Immediately lighting up the small space you were in.

A couple seconds of staring at it later you heard someone speak from the other side before s figure emerged from the portal.

?

"Richard is that you?" You asked the figure. They looked exactly identical to him, only difference was that this person was much taller and looked around the same age as you. His suit was very different, instead of the bright red, green and yellow he wore when he was younger he instead sported a black and blue skin tight suit.

The figure kept walking closer, expression slowly crumbling as they inched closer and closer towards you before they stopped Infront you. Taking off their mask to get a better look at you.

"It's time to go home n/n" his voice trembled as he forced the words out of his mouth. He crouched down in front of you, placing his arms underneath your legs and hoisting you into the air without giving you a chance to think to much in the situation.

He hurriedly passed through the portal, almost as if he was trying to get you away from the cursed wasteland as soon as possible. A wave of nausea overcoming before you emerged in the other side.

The intense feeling forcing you into a deep slumber before you could even get to see what was on the other side of the portal.

[thefandomdirtymind]

The small favor

18 +

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Prequel : The Haircut

Sanji / OPLA Masterlist and Coming Soon 

A/N IMPORTANT: My first Smut fic in a very long time and damn I'm rusty. But, I hope you will still like it and I swear to improve myself with descriptive action scene.

Warning : Smut, mention of masturbation, unprotected sex, oral ( Fem receiving) , praising, vanilla sex, fluff

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

If you enjoy my story please let me know.

---

The moon, bright and full, was high in his sky. The supper was over for a long time ago now and the crew of the Merry going was all asleep, dreaming of battle, new territory to draw, a table full of food, adventure or of being reunited with an old friend.

But, you couldn’t sleep. The sound of the wave crashing against the boat, the light of the moon piercing through your window, the loud snoring duel between Zoro and Luffy and finally your brain who just couldn’t stop to think.

Turning on your other side for the fifth time, you let out a loud sigh. It was the third night in a row you couldn’t sleep. You had tried various techniques, from a marvelous tea prepared by Sanji, to sleeping outside. But neither the tea, things that seem to shock the best chef of the east blue, nor the traditional method had succeeded.

Getting down from your hammock, resolute to finally sleep, you exited without a sound your room. Making your way to a particular door, you slowly knock, guilt twisting your gust.

It didn’t take long for Sanji to open the door, even if you could tell by the state of his hair and simple black boxer he was wearing that he, on the contrary of you, was deeply in dreamland just a few minutes ago. 

“ Y/N, everything is okay darling ? “ He asked, a yawn on his lips. 

“ I can’t sleep again “ You confessed, your eyes admiring the view of his half naked body.  

“ Oh then we will try another tea, I wrote a recipe here, I had some idea of why the one before didn’t work but…“  The blond reply, returning in the room, letting the door open behind him. 

“ No Sanji, I need another small favor in fact “ You reply, following him in the room, closing the door behind you. 

 “ Everything you need mon coeur” The man replied, now clearly curious.

Traveling the small space between you, your gaze never leaving his, you slowly put your hand on his chest, lifting them slowly, brushing his skin with your fingertip until finally you join them behind his neck.

“ Sanji…please fuck me “ You softly ask. 

In an instant, you felt the hard wall press behind your back and his strong hands on your hips pinning you in place, his lips lingering only few minimeter of yours. 

“ I thought you would never ask” He groaned, taking possession of your lips.

The kisses of Sanji’s were exactly like him, passionate but gentle. Every move of his lips over yours, every exchange of breath or flip of his tongues against yours make you shiver or moan of pleasure. When his hands, like in a ballet in harmonie with his mouth, were exploring the soft skin of your breast under your still clothes body. 

Leaving your face to pepper kiss the valley between your neck and your shoulder. You felt one of his hands slide slowly between your legs, his thumb already rubbing in slow circles your clit. 

“ You're already so wet” He smiled, kissing the column of your throat  “ Did you start without me ? “ 

“I tried to masturbate, it didn't work out” You confessed, as you caressed the surface of his back, leaving yourself some kisses on his broad shoulders, your eyes heavy with lust. 

“ Then I will have to try, don’t you think, Prunelle de mes yeux *. Maybe I wasn’t enough in your mind"  (* Apple of my eye) 

Putting down your pants alongside your panties. He seductively left a last kiss on your lips before kneeling before you, his thumb traveling lazily between the lips of your pussy before teasing your clit.

Licking you first with long strokes with the flat of his tongue, moaning when your fingers buried himself on his golden hair. He then proceeds to alterne with the tip of his tongue creating a devilish prequel to the main course.  

After a while his tongue seems everywhere, driving you crazy, eating you out like if you were the best meal of his life. Sanji took his time to suck your clit as his finger was sliding in you in a pace you could only think as delicious torture. 

As promised, your mind had cleared everythings who’s isn’t related to him and the pleasure he slowly build in your belly. 

“ Oh fuck, soo good, Sanji please more…more…” You whine, your knees shaking as his two fingers pushed further in you.

Still pin at the wall with his large hand on your stomach. Your hands in his hair, trying to keep your sanity. You could feel him smile against the flushed skin of your thigh as the speed of his finger increased and he kissed once more your pussy with his open mouth, reducing you as a babbling mess. 

“ Sanji I…Sanji !” You cried, becoming temporarily mute as the pressure built in your body and your orgasm struck you like lightning, making your knees buckled.

Catching you up before you fell on the floor, Sanji brought you to his desk, sitting you on the plane surface. 

“ Y/N can you spread your legs a little?” He gently asked. 

“ Sanji I will need a minute here” You laugh, still coming down from the previous orgasm. 

“ I know darling I only want to engrave in my brain how you look so beautiful half naked and pleasure high spread on my desk.” He replies, smiling, his lips still glossy of your juice.

“ You’re a pervert “ You joked, spreading your legs for him to see. 

“ Say the girl who wake me up to be fuck until she fall asleep “ He responded, inserting himself between your legs as he bring you closer to the edge for a toe curling kiss ,removing in a fluid moves his boxer, letting him totally naked.

You took the time, as he broke your embrace to extract you from your tank top, to admire, again, the splendors of all his physique. Not that you hadn’t noticed before, you had eyes of course and the man fully dressed was already worth being seen. But having him like that, smiling, as his muscular body overlooks yours, his cock already erect just for you, makes you so happy to have insomnia that night.

Advancing your hand to take his cock, smoothly initiating a move of up and down, you smiled when you heard him moan in the crock of your neck. 

“ Is that good ? “

You didn’t hear the response he muttered,  but as his hand stopped yours to push the tips of his dick on your entrance, you decided that you truly didn’t care.

Thrusting at a slow pace, letting your body adjust to him, the best cook of the east blue was clearly starting to lose the battles with his self-control when your hips joined him in the movement in a way more high cadence. Moaning your name like a prayer, sucking your nipples like if they were made of candy, his hand shaking slightly, he gladly followed your change of regime, making you back arch and welcoming every one of your whine and moan like if they were gift from a goddess herself. 

“ Yes, like that, please just like that Yes” You praised him, your second orgasm near. 

“ Yes Madam” Sanji groaned on your lips with his damn proud smile,rubbing your clit. “ But i’m not done with you yet” 

Your forehead pressed against his, your eyes closed, you exploded for the second time that night.

Your brain, still in a blissful fog, became sadly aware of the hollowed sensation in your pussy when he removed his dick as well as the trail of open mouth kisses Sanji left on your breast before helping you get down off the desk. 

Turning you around, exposing your ass in just the right angle. You loudly gasped when he filled you again, making you wonder if you didn’t get yourself a new addiction. But, if you did, you wouldn’t be alone. Sanji, behind you was a total mess, his breath frantic, thrusting in you like he found in your warm core a new religion beside, of course,the food. 

As your nail was scratching small strides in the wax on his dark wood desk , leaving him physically something to remember that night, you could feel his own orgasm coming.

“ So…so close mon coeur '' He moaned, before letting out a groan of satisfaction as the pleasure finally took him.  

Crying your last moans, your breath panting, you felt his chest trapping you against the wood panel as he slowly regained his composure, whispering sweet praise in your ear.

 “ You know what mon coeur, forget the tea, I will exhaust you everytime you can’t sleep“ 

—

Press against Sanji's chest in his small hammock, your eyes heavy from fatigue, you smiled. 

“ Thank you for the favor” You laugh, yawning.   

“ Anytime Madam” Sanji quietly laughed, his own eyes closing, as you both drifted in the better sleep you had. 

[sophrosynesworld]

The Night Shift (Pt. 4)

Part One:

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains content that may be distressing for some readers, including scenes involving hospitals, blood/gore, vomiting, major caffeine addiction issues and a severely injured child. Also, my only medical knowledge is from tv shows. So enjoy.

A soft, rhythmic knock echoes against the wall, pulling you from the edge of sleep. You squint into the harsh hallway lights, your makeshift nap spot feeling less isolated. "Is someone dying?" you mumble, your voice rasping with exhaustion. A few interns hurry past, giggling at the gurney you’ve claimed as your temporary bed.

"I’m afraid it might be you," Airi’s voice teases. Stepping toward you with her usual mix of concern and humor. She nudges your feet off the bed, and you groan, sitting up as she hands you a large cup. Airi sits next to you, resting her feet. A quick glance at your beverage makes your stomach churn—the murky color and chemical stench hit you before the liquid even does.

"How long?" you ask, hesitating as you lift the cup to your lips. You take a cautious sip and immediately gag, the bitterness clinging to your throat. "Oh, fucking hell. What’s in this?" you sputter, coughing violently as you slam a fist against your chest, glaring at her.

"A few spoonfuls of instant espresso, a can of extra-strength Riot Rush, a splash of cola we found in the breakroom, and I threw in some of my cold brew for good luck," Airi lists off, grinning at your suffering.

Before you can respond, the overhead system crackles, announcing an emergency code orange. Near-capacity. Perfect.

"How long?" you ask again, setting the cup down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Airi glances at her watch. "You had about 45 minutes. I’m sorry, you couldn't sleep longer. We have a unit five minutes out."

You nod, resigned. With a deep breath, you pick up the vile concoction and down it in one go. Airi cheers you on with exaggerated disgust as you finish, your face twisting in discomfort. You slam the cup down, raising your hands in mock victory before sliding off the gurney.

"Let’s go," you mutter, scanning your ID against the door. The lock clicks open, and with a sigh, you step into the chaos that waits beyond.

Airi keeps pace beside you as you enter the emergency room. The beds spill into the hallways, patients lying shoulder to shoulder, a grim sea of bandages, blood, and pain.

"How many?" you ask, though the answer is obvious.

"Too many."

You push through another set of doors, weaving past nurses and doctors scrambling to keep up. You sidestep a young man clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers, and a mother trying to soothe her crying child despite her own wounds.

Airi notices a man sit up, erupting into a coughing fit. She grabs a blue vomit bag and hands it to him just in time for him to spew black chunks into it.

"Look who’s up from her cat nap," a sneering voice cuts in from behind you. You turn slowly, already dreading the encounter, locking eyes with Haruto. His icy blue gaze holds yours for a second before he dismisses a nurse with a huff and returns to his chart.

"Maybe when you heal as many patients as I do, with the success rate I have, you’ll get to take breaks too," you quip, flashing him a sweet smile. You know it’s salt on an open wound.

His lips twitch with irritation. "Success rate?" he scoffs, stepping closer, his laugh cold. "It’s easy to be perfect when you’re cheating with your little quirk."

"Right. Because your healing quirk is so much cooler than mine," you counter, not backing down. "I don’t have time for this. I’m needed in the pit."

His jaw clenches at your words. "One day, that quirk of yours is going to fail you. And when it does, everyone will see how useless you are as a real doctor."

You force a tight-lipped smile, your pulse quickening. "I’d be more concerned about keeping your patients alive, Haruto." Turning away, you dismiss him, heading back toward the patient area. You can feel his glare burning into your back, but you don’t care. You don't have time to compare dick sizes.

"Incoming!" someone shouts as you break into a sprint, throwing on a yellow PPE gown and gloves, running to the entrance.

Two paramedics rush in, rattling off stats. The boy on the stretcher is small and ghostly pale, a metal rod impaling his abdomen. His mother stumbles in beside them, nearly collapsing as she tries to keep up, tears streaming down her face.

"We’ve got a six-year-old male, impaled by a metal rod," one of the paramedics reports, breathless. "Severe blood loss, BP’s dropping fast, showing signs of hypovolemic shock. Where do you want us?"

"Bay 3," you bark, your voice cutting through the chaos. You help guide the gurney through the crowded hallway, pushing past panicked staff and injured patients.

In the trauma bay, blood soaks the sheets beneath the boy. His face is nearly as white as the metal protruding from his body.

"Stabilize the rod," you order, your voice sharp. "We can’t remove it until we control the bleeding."

A student nurse stands trembling, her needle shaking, eyes wide with fear. “The veins keep blowing,” she stammers. “They’re too small.”

“Think!” you snap, your voice sharp but focused. “You know what to do.”

She hesitates, then asks, “Can I go through the leg?”

“Intraosseous vascular access,” you correct her firmly. “And yes, that’s the right move. Have you ever done one before?”

Another nurse, Coda, steps forward. “I have,” he says without hesitation.

“Good,” you nod, offering a quick smile. “Kaede, watch him closely.”

You glance down at your patient—his pulse is weak, his breaths shallow. Time is running out. You begin to guide the ultrasound across his abdomen, but your quirk hums beneath your skin, begging to be used.

You hesitate for just a second before placing your hands on either side of the wound. Your quirk flares to life, raw energy crackling through your fingers. You’re exhausted, on the verge of collapse, but you don’t have a choice. Not now.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you pour your quirk into his torn muscles, shredded arteries, and ruptured organs, desperately trying to buy him enough time for surgery. His vitals flicker on the monitor, heartbeats struggling to hold steady.

"Come on, buddy," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. "Stay with me."

The damage is worse than you thought. Blood is pooling inside him, choking his lungs. Something you would have noticed with the ultrasound. Your quirk fights to keep pace, but you’re losing ground. Still, you push harder, ignoring the toll it takes on your body. You can’t stop. Not when he’s this close to slipping away.

A scream erupts from the doorway, shattering your concentration. You whip your head around just in time to see his mother living through the worst moments of her life, fighting desperately against the nurses trying to pull her from the room. Her cries are heart-wrenching, and for a brief second, your gaze locks with hers. Desperation floods her eyes, causing your chest to tighten.

The machines suddenly scream to life, alarms blaring as his stats drop. The room erupts into chaos. Nurses scramble, shouting vitals and instructions, but the noise fades to the background as panic creeps up your spine.

Focus.

You tear your eyes away from the mother and force yourself to confront the reality before you—you can feel his heart slowing beneath your hands, each faint thump weaker than the last. His tiny body is fragile, and you can sense the life slipping away from him, barely holding on.

You push harder, willing every last drop of your energy into stabilizing him. Your quirk surges painfully, overextending to the point of exhaustion. Every muscle in your body trembles, but you keep going, fighting against time itself.

With one final, desperate push, the chaotic beeping begins to slow, the erratic rhythm leveling out. You exhale shakily, relief washing over you as the boy’s vitals stabilize.

"Someone find me a surgeon!" you shout, your voice hoarse.

As the nurses prepare him for surgery, you stumble back, the adrenaline draining from your system. Your stomach twists, and before you know it, you’re vomiting near the doorway, gasping for breath.

Rina kneels beside you, her voice soft. "That bad, huh?" She hands you a blue puke bag with a grim smile. Loose red strands of hair escape from her ponytail.

"Worse," you admit, dry heaving.

Rina wraps an arm around you, helping you to your standup. "Come on. You need a break."

She guides you to the break room, where you collapse into a chair. She walks off telling you to give her a second. A few minutes later, she hands you some coffee and medicine.

"Take it easy, you can't be risky like that every time." she lightly scolds before returning to her patients.

As you sip the stale hospital coffee, the TV catches your eye. It’s a live news feed of a hero battle. The city skyline is unmistakable, but what makes your heart drop is the hero on screen—Dynamight.

He’s in the middle of the city, explosions erupting from his palms as he charges toward a massive, grotesque monster tearing through the city. Your heart pounds in your chest, your eyes glued to the screen as he dodges a swipe from the creature, countering with a devastating blast that leaves smoke and debris in its wake.

But something’s wrong.

The camera zooms in just as the monster's arm whips around, faster than Bakugo can react. It slams into him with a sickening force, sending him flying across the road and into a nearby building. Smoke fills the air around him, but nothing happens.

“Katsuki…” you whisper, gripping the arm of the chair. Another wave of nausea rolls though you as the reporter’s voice echoes in your ears.

“It looks like Dynamight has taken a pretty serious hit—he's not getting up. We… we will keep you updated on his condition as we get word."

Your stomach twists into knots, worse than before. You’re frozen, staring at the screen, begging him to move, to stand up, to prove he's alive. But the feed cuts to another shot, the fight continuing without him.

Just as you’re about to reach for your phone, an urgent voice breaks through your focus. “I have a 56-year-old female with 3rd degree burns, are you ready?”

Your head snaps up to see a nurse standing in the doorway, her face flushed. You're not. But there’s no time.

With a heavy heart, you force yourself to stand, grabbing your ID badge from the table. You cast one last glance at the TV, hoping for a miracle, but the screen has already shifted to another scene.

"Nurse, I need another Riot Rush."

Next Part:

Author's Note: I just want to thank you all for the nice comments on my last post. It really meant the world to me. I have so many ideas for the two of you, it's not even funny.

Tags @simplyraeblue @moonfloweronmars @kalulakunundrum @froggy-crystal @msjaeger

[quinnysnursery]

[👻🎥] you're an angel & i'm a dog | sam and colby one-shot

paring : little!colby brock x cg!sam golbach

summary : the comfort to the hurt (sequel to bad dog)

warning/extra tid-bits : healing from an emotionally and physically abusive relationship, lots of tears, panic attack, nightmares

word count : 1431

divider credit : umm i found all the photos on pinterest :3 (x's on the bottom are by @saradika-graphics)

a/n : i'm aware the lyrics don't perfectly fit the scenes but i tried my best okay guys (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl!)

You’re an Angel,

Sam had stopped by for a surprise visit, Colby was ecstatic, Jennifer was not.

It started out fine. Sure, Colby knew he was in for the scolding of his life when Sam returned to LA but he missed Sam way too much to be worried about the impending punishments he’d receive.

Jennifer managed to make it to the second night of Sam’s stay before chucking yet another glass at the man in an act of blind rage. Sam heard from the upstairs guest room- of course, and called the cops.

That’s what got them here.

I’m a Dog

Colby choked out a sob, clinging onto the blonde man’s hand as red and blue lights flashed around the neighborhood. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you colbs.” Sam assured, keeping his best friend within arms reach.

Both men’s statements had already been taken, and the EMT’s had already cleared Colby of any physical damage. An arrest had been made and that was it, Colby’s daily nightmare was over. Jennifer Akins was arrested for domestic violence against Colby Brock.

The brunette man knew he should’ve been happy about it, ecstatic even.

But as Sam cleaned up the shattered glass on the floor and a now-regressed Colby sat on the marble countertops, he couldn’t help but feel a new sense of loneliness. Sure, Jennifer was probably the shittiest caregiver in the world…but she was Colby’s caregiver.

She was the first person who called Colby “her little one”. The first person to read him bedtime stories. She was his first caregiver, and Colby missed her.

Or you're a dog 

Sam knew the little sitting in front of him had seen enough for a lifetime. His heart broke for his friend, had Sam known the horrors that were Jessica’s actions, he would’ve done everything in his power to keep Colby in LA.

The dark-haired little yawned, reminding Sam that he was supposed to be responsible for his best friend. 

“Tired?” Sam asked gently, his heart breaking as Colby flinched at the silence being broken. Colby nodded sheepishly, earning a small hum of acknowledgement from the blonde.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed.” Sam smiled, offering his hand to the little. Colby blinked at him, confused- it had been forever since Colby was put to bed by someone else.

Sam figured as much, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care how long it took for Colby to be comfortable receiving love, Sam would be by his side every step of the way.

and I'm your man

Healing a traumatized little was easier said than done, that became incredibly clear within the first week of moving Colby back into him and Sam’s LA home.

“No!” Colby yelled, pushing Sam’s gentle hands away. Sam was only trying to stop him from tugging at his hair, but that didn’t matter to the little- at least not right now. Colby didn’t want comfort, comfort still wasn’t something the little was used too. It was unfamiliar, unfamiliarity was scary.

“Buddy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” The blonde tried explaining, both men falling victim to frustrated tears. Colby choked out a sob, hitting the couch cushion next to him. “Colbs, can we use gentle hands?” Sam tried, keeping his hands to himself this time. The little sniffled, pausing as he processed the words said to him.

If Colby wasn’t using gentle hands, was he using mean hands? This thought made the little want to curl up in shame. 

Jennifer used mean hands, was Colby just as bad as her?

You believe me like a god

Despite the meltdowns and countless tear-stained shirts, Sam wasn’t giving up. Colby needed him, or maybe Sam needed Colby to know he was worthy of love. 

Pure, unconditional love.

“Is it good?” Sam smiled at the little who was humming happily to himself, chocolate ice cream dripping onto the tesla’s leather seats. That didn’t matter though, Colby had a genuine smile on his face. “Mhm!” The little beamed.

The car ride home was filled with plenty of unapologetic giggles. 

That night as Sam was about to slip out of Colby’s room, under the assumption that the little sprawled out next to him had been asleep since the final bedtime story, the blonde haired man heard a sleepy voice call out. 

“Sammy, ‘tay…” 

So he did.

I'll destroy you like I am

Colby knocked repeatedly on his best friend’s room door, panicked tears flooding down his cheeks. “Come in!” Sam called from behind the door, unaware of the brown-haired man’s emotional state.

“S-Sam,” Colby choked out, his headspace taunting him. He wanted to slip, he needed to slip but right as he went too- he’d had a flashback. Resulting in his current panicked state.

Sam instantly sprung into action, “Hey…hey, what’s going on?” He asked, knitting his brows together as he stood up off his bed. The blonde wasted no time helping his friend sit down, “Deep breathes.” He reminded the taller man.

A sob caught in Colby’s throat, “I-I don’t want her back.” He thought out loud. It didn’t take Sam long to figure out who Colby was speaking about, “She’s not coming back, I promise.” He soothed. 

Colby nodded, trusting his friend’s words as truth, Sam hadn’t ever lied to him before.

When Colby finally calmed, he found himself lying atop Sam’s bed, the blonde running gentle fingers through his hair. “M’ sorry I bothered you.” The little mumbled, voice hoarse from sobbing just moments prior. 

“You didn’t bother me,” Sam reassured, “I’m really proud of you for coming to get me.”

I'm sorry I'm the one you love

Sam smiled proudly as he peaked at the crayon-drawing that the brown-haired little was working on, mac and cheese boiling on the stove behind him. “Is that Jake and Johnnie?” The blonde joked, earning a lighthearted whine from Colby.

“Noooo,” The little drew out, “...’s us.” Colby shyly smiled, despite the bundle of nerves in his stomach. Sam beamed, both internally and externally. “Me and you?” He asked, despite knowing the answer. Colby nodded meekly, “M’ sorry, ‘s not that good-” 

“Nono!” Sam quickly disagreed, bending slightly to meet the little’s eyes. “It’s perfect, should we put it on the fridge?” He asked, his heart fluttering as he saw a twinkle of the old childlike wonder that little Colby used to have in the brown-haired man's eyes. “Yeah!” Colby excitedly chirped.

Both boys worked together to hang the drawing, Sam holding the paper against the cool metal and Colby placing the magnet they’d bought from the Stanley Hotel almost 5 years ago down to hold it in place.

Sam wrapped his arms around the little, mumbling about how it looked “perfect”

No one will ever love me like you again.

Colby’s legs carried him before he could recognize what was happening. He’d had a nightmare, which wasn’t uncommon but that didn’t make them any less scary.

This one had been just like the rest, Jennifer somehow taking Colby away from Sam.

It dawned on Colby as he passed a window that it was late, maybe around 3:00 am. That didn’t stop him though, the little marched right through Sam’s bedroom door- tears falling down his cheeks.

“D-Dada,” He called out, much to little to chicken out of giving Sam such an important title. The blonde man woke up immediately to the sound of someone in his room, his heart instantly calming when he realized it was Colby. “Hey bud…what’s going on?” He asked, opening up the covers- allowing the little to slide into his arms. 

Colby simply sniffled, wiping his red eyes. “Bad dream?” Sam theorized, earning a painful whimper from the little. Sam cooed with sympathy, brushing the little’s hair in a soothing motion.

“I’ve got you, it was just’a dream.” He reassured, rubbing circles into his distressed friend’s back. “Don’ wanna go with Jenny, wanna ‘tay with dada…” Colby sniffled, his breathing hitching as he spoke. Sam paused just for a second, his own eyes welling with tears.

Dada.

Colby trusted him enough to give him that title.

“Dada’s not gonna let anything happen to you bud,” Sam kissed the top of his head, “Tomorrow we’ll take up and have pancakes, and you won’t ever have to go back with her.” He added, holding his boy close.

After a plethora of different reassurances and a promise that they'd get ice cream again, Colby fell fast asleep in Sam’s arms- knowing he wouldn’t have to live in fear of Jennifer, because his dada wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

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