#feeling our color favoritism shifting again

[gurlgallade]

TBH I think one of the keys to writing a fun Blue is keeping the word "boisterous" in the back of your mind the whole time.

[kooyabooya]

GAMBIT

m reader x tzuyu // 9k words

The thing about risk takers, you see, is the fact that you tell them to stop multiple times - and they never do. 

At every turn of the hands on the clock, here lies Chou Tzuyu, in her most casual form imaginable. One leg on the other with an arm outward to the head of the couch cushions. She’s got her face at this inquisitive angle; pure innocence, slant lips nearing a sly grin while she’s put through an earful from her manager: 

“You’re on your last set of legs, and I hope to god that this story doesn’t break out in the ringers of the press come tomorrow morning.” 

Nothing could scrounge up the loss of professionalism, draining away from the slips in the shut door frame. Because the challenges become more complicated than the other, and this one might just be the tip of the iceberg. 

“Well then,” Tzuyu starts, and in typical Tzuyu fashion: sweetly and unbothered. “Let’s just have our fingers crossed that no one around here is willing to leak that out to the public.” 

Tzuyu’s manager glances towards your direction, matching the same eyebrow with theirs in pure confusion as to what this conversation was boiling down to. You almost feel bad, but fortunate enough to not be stuck in their position. Dealing with Tzuyu’s bullshit on a day to day basis, growing a gloomy shade in their hair that shouldn’t be there for another twenty to thirty years; luckily, that hasn’t happened to you, at least not yet. 

In the years of service that you’ve had with the agency, you’ve had the fair pleasure in confiding with different individuals amongst the growing industry, to different waves of success. Sana? A world beater that has cameras flashing everywhere she goes. Mina? An absolute angel sent from heaven, well fit into the standards of fame. Those two amongst your clients might as well be considered your favorites - and the list that follows after is a very reputable asset to have. 

But Tzuyu? That is a blank area that has still yet to be defined. 

Something about Chou Tzuyu around these doors and offices has everyone turning their heads in the other direction - because you know from experience in this industry - for someone like her that’s bound for stardom with that one of one face and the age that she’s at will be the kind of story that’s not following the script. She’s one of the most genuine, kind-hearted, and beautiful souls that everyone envies to an extent; moreso jumping over cars and off of cliffs to have a mere inkling of notice from her, a scale tipped in the balance to love or hate her persona at the same time. Every now and then she sweeps you up in that whirlwind too, but who can blame you for getting lost in her charming features?

And you find it to be amazing at how she remains so stoic. Color yourself impressed, or bewitched even, you’re also reminded why this little project of hers hasn’t been brought out to the world. 

“So remind me again,” you’re saying, settling yourself around the office, scooching your way past Tzuyu to take the open spot left vacant on the couch, “Tzu over here was caught with what?” 

The observing of Tzuyu doesn’t stop there, unfortunately, limit testing on how dire this present situation actually is - with those long, glossy locks that rest right past her shoulders and in front of her chest, beautifully so like a sculpture bust; the threaded eyebrows, and those long eyelashes. Then, there’s the dimple - and her baby blue outfit, the heels, the jewelry, snug with the curves of her body, she’s meant to be the main event, the sole person who can shift the atmosphere in just a few steps-

Tzuyu’s manager, sadly, isn’t one to play games however. 

Another quirk of the brow gets thrown, and they hit you with a crinkle from the bridge of their eyebrows, inward lips as if anything said from this point on would be held against themselves. 

So you smile, and play the cool guy vibe, mirroring Tzuyu’s seating position in the exact same way down to the wiggling foot. “Well?” 

A file gets thrown to the coffee table in the middle of you three, and a phone is up in the air - unlocked and everything when it lands in between your hands. It’s already on the photos app, and when you’re zooming in to get a closer look at all of the pictures from what you can see from the date in the top portion of the screen - from last weekend, and you’re doing the exact same expression as her manager. 

“It was supposed to be a breaker event for little ‘miss perfect’ over here,” Tzuyu’s manager starts, laser focused like he thinks you’re going to ask her yourself if the contents in the phone were actually hers - which might not make the situation better. Look, you’ve got to keep it cool and stay professional, since that’s your job - especially since Tzuyu’s also young, not by much, but it still feels all the same. Sure, you could challenge that, but why would you? Every time you look at Tzuyu, she can see that there’s not a single thought past your eyes. “I leave her with Sullyoon for thirty minutes at this event and I-” 

You turn your head towards Tzuyu again to which she gives you the side eye after looking at the phone in your hand, and somehow you just know. 

Tzuyu’s manager flips open the file, filled with a good stack of pictures. He spreads them out all over the table, much like finding a specific still from this gallery that stands out. You’re staring, closer, the photos match up in the phone too and- 

Shit. 

That’s the only word that you can think of, but the meaning and intent could be taken in either one of two ways. As for the thoughts circling around your head?

There’s hardly any. Almost nothing. 

“Okay,” you say, face still unfazed; a skill in itself that took a god awful amount of time to get down perfectly, but still, holy shit. Now you’re seeing why the agency is doing everything in their power to keep this under wraps. You can’t even believe the pictures that show Tzuyu exposed with no clothes at all, clearly tattered up in marks and scratches and ran through from whoever was the person that took the pictures in the first place. There’s her thighs stacked on top of each other with pointe feet, her abs are soaked in fresh spurts of cum, the way that her head is crestfallen to the right side as she tries to cover her face, how she smiles at the corner of her mouth; she’s made for the cameras - and you could see the literal sex that she emits from the stills, every profane term in the book or in your vocabulary culminated into one person - but this is the line of work you’ve put yourself in, as you can feel the two pairs of eyes staring at you from the both of them, waiting for an answer. 

You toss the phone off to the side, and get your fingertips on the pictures, examining them with wandering eyes. And with the calm and composed demeanor you could craft within seconds, you say: “I don’t see what’s the problem here.” 

Nothing flies with Tzuyu’s manager at this point when it comes to you. “Watch the attitude now,” he leads, overbearing. 

“What he said,” Tzuyu doubles one second after, a wisp of hair falling to the front of her face, grinning behind the thin curtain of her strands, “Watch the attitude.” 

You exchange glances between Tzuyu and her manager, clearly in shock at how they’re figuratively double-teaming against you. Tzuyu’s always had a knack for being upbeat and funny, flirty would also be a way to put it, but she’s made that her own thing, her label - the press wasn’t kidding when they said in between the lines that this woman here was going to turn the world on its head, to make anyone from anywhere fall to the ground just to have them acknowledged in her good graces - many will die when granted the opportunity - but it's one of those days that has you wondering why she’s more forward, and obvious, that equation is still getting solved by the second. 

“Done,” you say after, giving in to their demands; it’s still difficult to learn and determine what kind of tale she’s willing to write today and you’re still seeing whether it's a good idea to play along to what’s forming. “What else do we know about her and-”

“Sullyoon’s already had her discussion earlier,” Tzuyu answers right away, combing her hand through her hair, watching her fingers disappear within those coffee bean locks that’s effortlessly charming. “As for me, that’s still yet to be determined. Which also got me thinking: it can’t be that bad as it sounds the way that you’re suggesting it.”

You’re also seeing the attitude that Tzuyu’s showing through her words and how she feels about the entire situation as a whole before you and her manager could even dive into the more complicated bits within the first five minutes of walking into the room. It’s like in her case file written in parentheses: ‘known to be a hot head, and a bit self-obsessed’ - considering her arrogance at times, but her charms make up for it. She can be one or the other, or even both. It’s how she grins: simply desirable. Once she’s put her name out there for the rest of the world, and not even for the industry, the scandals won’t even touch her going forward. She’ll be untouched while you are at the bottom picking up the scraps and taking the damage. 

“The punishment for Sullyoon is a lot more lenient because of me,” says Tzuyu’s manager, but his gaze gets back on her, hand on hip in clear and utter disappointment with the shake of his head. “And Haewon’s already not having it with the incident with Bae. Now with this, it’s a complete clusterfuck of events, so I just-  ugh, it’s a lot.” 

“Sorry to hear that,” you apologize, a hand up but the look on your face shares little to no care about the manager’s pain as of this moment. “And for the record, I feel like we had this conversation before, no?” 

“You’re her advisor, dipshit.” Tzuyu’s manager grits, ball forming at the fist, “That’s the reason why I brought you on board with her in the first place. Isn’t that supposed to be your job to, y’know, advise?” 

“You’re the manager, and might I add the correction: her manager,” you shoot back retortfully, “Maybe you should keep a close monitor on our lovely, budding starlet here from the get-go?” 

Tzuyu stifles a laugh, causing both your eyes and her manager’s to do this form of joint attention on her, and hiding away in the plane of her medium-sized hand, “What?” you both say to her, and it comes off as comical. 

“Nothing,” she muses, lifting a leg up over her opposite one this time, leaning deeper into the cushions of the couch, eyebrows up in the horizon of her forehead, beaming. “I just thrive amongst the bickering you two are having over my career.” 

“See?” And Tzuyu looks away from your rolling eyes, “I put it in the file in bullet points. She’s not ready for this kind of pressure and lifestyle, and do you really want me to go through the list of the incidents she’s already put herself through to serve your memory?” 

“I would find it best for you not to remind me of everything up until now.” Tzuyu’s manager shuts down the question, spinning his phone in hand between the fingers, “Please don’t-” 

“DUI charges, social media backlash because of a vape laying in her lap in one of the pictures, smoking out late at night with Ryujin and Yuna,” You’re listing out the events anyway, because Tzuyu’s manager can easily tell that you’re the kind of person to not really give a shit about these kinds of things. It’s not you being put under the spotlight - this microscope that’s always being picked off with a pair of tweezers - how one influencer’s words could brainwash the general public into rubbing their palms with a pair of tangerines. They’ll always follow, to some extent; and for Tzuyu, that’s the kind of power she wants to have - to get people talking about her and not stop there. 

“So do you want me to keep going?” You ask again, clearly caring little to none as Tzuyu examines her personal stills, head tilted when she picks up one of the photos. “And may I remind you that she’s got a gala event to attend to in the midst of all this, so let me ask you this boss,” you say, and you can see the flared nostrils coming from Tzuyu’s manager, “How do you want to go about this?” 

Tzuyu’s manager freezes, phone vibrating in record time like crazy. He’s taking a few seconds to strategize the next move, what’s the next course of necessary action. Keeping Tzuyu here is the worst idea, because that breeds into speculation. Compounding that, there’s also the monumental effort of keeping these pictures on the table in her phone on the down low, which may be impossible at this point, given with the insiders circling around like moles in the organization. 

“The event isn’t for another hour and a half or so,” Tzuyu’s manager announces, eyes darting back and forth from the phone to you two sitting on the couch, pulling his lips upward at the exchange of messages. “Fuck this industry sometimes,” he groans, “You do things here and there and don’t expect the treatment to be - goddamit, Haewon’s calling me again about Sullyoon,” he says, phone to the side of his head when he answers. “Hey, Haewon. No, I uh- I’m here with Tzu and- yeah, I’ll come over right now to see the situation.” He pulls his phone away from his ear, button pressed on mute, “Sorry, but you know where I’m going with this here.” 

“Don’t be,” says Tzuyu. There’s some tension in the air, like a flare set off in the dead of the night - how her head turns slightly towards your direction, smile laced with a purpose - and she cocks her head off to the side as her manager starts to make his way out the room. “We’re not leaving yet as it is.” 

Her manager pauses, in between the open doorway. His phone is right back into his ear, nodding along to Haewon on the other end of the line, eyes lapping side to side and back between the two of you - because it’s his job, and he can’t get away from that fact regardless. 

“That’s still up in the air, you know,” he says towards you, clearly hurt by the tone you gave earlier; insulted might be one better word to put it, but he knows that you know better and you’re just acting like this out of spite. “Don’t know how long this will take, but pray that I’ll be back before we have to go.” 

Once the door closes - much like a kingdom raising up their drawbridge, a safe with all the locks in the world clicking into place - holding you and Tzuyu prisoner in this vacuum of space, this could be hell, or it might be heaven. Tzuyu clicks her tongue, gets it under the front portion of her bottom teeth, at a molar, studying you as if you’re a centerpiece or painting hung up on the room; this girl is clearly unreadable. 

“Tzu,” you call out to her, keeping the ambiance chill - whilst maintaining some form of lead in this hurricane of tension. It doesn’t also help that the sun is right at the ocean, kissing along the horizon towards the beach, a wonderful mixture of hues between orange and dark blue and purple clashing in the sky, the lights are on in the neighboring skyscrapers - a view that can serve as the last sight for someone before falling off fifty plus stories - and in the midst of all that calming pictures, she’s still looking at you. 

She leans over, dress wrinkling in all the right creases. Don’t look now, or else that’ll be the end of you, as she blinks dotingly, lashes fluttering and with that sugary tone of hers, she just says: “Yes?” 

“What gave you the compelling idea to have an entire album of a cock in your mouth. Not only that, but the fact that Sullyoon was also in on this too? Especially when she’s three years younger than you, her senior? Like what-” 

“You’re making it sound like I fucked up?” Tzuyu says, an eyebrow raised in curiosity, the innocence isn’t doing her any justice compared to the hard evidence found in her phone. “Of course I know what I was doing, and believe me, this would only speed up the process a little more.” 

“What process?” 

“To get me out there into the real world.” 

She giggles when the crease of your eyebrows knitting together comes back into the frame of your face, leaning over while she sinks back into the couch, hands fiddling with the red ribbon that was attached to her dress. The eerie sound of your name being recited from the proper pronunciation meshing into hums. She’s observing your posture, much like her normal act persists - staying quiet but acknowledging others when needed. You hate how much of a sweetheart she is at times, because it’s all a setup for a bleeding edge that eventually comes to life sooner or later. 

“I’ll keep it real,” you’re starting again, “You did fuck up. And you fucked up bad. It’ll be a miracle if this doesn’t get out, but I’m not holding my breath for you, and-” 

Tzuyu just keeps staring. With that gaze of hers, she’s still trying to get a read - from the hem of your jacket or at the peak of your ruffled hair, it might be easy to tell that in some way: she’s into you.

“Okay, in simple terms, you’ll live.” With that said, you shouldn’t be silently suffering with a potential breakout star of an actress, so you’ll hang strong against her glance. This was something that you enjoyed doing from the multiple meetings and screenings. “We could honestly set this up to be a hush money agreement with whoever managed to get these pictures in the first place -  your fault, might I add - but anyways, all of this should go away, if we play our cards right. No need for you to come forward to address the rumors, that’s why you have people like us to deal the damage. All you have to do here is just - uhm - well, be Tzuyu.” 

Tzuyu appears intrigued, finding a small crack in your impenetrable armor, a rarity at times but also is aware that it might be a minor slip-up. “Be Tzuyu? What do you mean by that?” 

You flash a look at her, but she’s one to double down, eyes squinting - she’s capitalizing on your mistake. “There’s a proper term for this,” she says, “and maybe um, pretty would be one to suffice?” 

“I’m not trying to sound afraid,” you say, calmly. “There’s two choices between right and wrong. Then there’s the respect, and also being sensible. You have to treat this career like it’s your life.” And you didn’t say professional, because that word is the last resort; a rescue rope only to be used in the most dire situations. 

“I want this life.” The admission, something nestling underneath the parts of her sentence, a slow-burning being soaking behind those soiled eyes. Tzuyu then scoots over, gets closer to you, tips her chin to further the examination. “I have what it takes to be professional. You’re just afraid to say it to my face.” 

“Welp, you caught me,” you say, knotting your fingers in between themselves just to keep yourself from doing anything rash, maybe walking out of the room to leave her alone would be the best move, instead of letting your thoughts get the best of you and pinning her body flat on the couch. “Seriously, doing things like this will only kill your chances of making it big even before you start.” 

Common sense appears to be dissipating out the clear windows. And now Tzuyu is the one who’s taking full advantage, bursting your personal bubble - the way that she shimmies her way across the cushions, so mindful of how she moves her body at every curve and nick in her limbs; you can hear your own heartbeat quickening, like you’re hiding in a locker and she’s about to tamper with the dial to get the door open - and she’s about face to you, hand ghosting the upper profiles of your chest where your shoulders are at. She’s not that tall from a height standpoint, but sitting down, she’s matching your build bit by bit. 

“It’ll happen, regardless,” says Tzuyu, face with a wide grin. “That’s why people like you are working hard to make sure that things like these don’t happen again. Especially in the long run.” 

“You’re really going all out today, are you?” You exclaim after closely assessing, holding our ground against her. “Might I add that you might also ruin Sullyoon’s career after yours is out of our hands?” 

“She’s a tough girl,” says Tzuyu, flatly, as if the prospect itself is something to laugh about. Tzuyu is a silent killer, shown in her signs of arrogance which shouldn’t be enticing to you, but they are, and in every way possible. “And like I told you, I’ll keep doing shit like this because I want to. You can hide away all you want, when it’s clear in your eyes that you want me just as bad as I want you.” 

“And what do you propose here?” 

“I’m telling you that the way you sound right now turns me on, genius.” 

It comes in a black flash, much like you staring down the hole of a double-barreled shotgun; or your head getting pushed into a tub of ice cold water. You can see the stars in her eyes, each and every one of them an alternate reality of their own between you and Tzuyu, sparkling with so much light. “Who’s saying that fucking a client was on the cards?” 

And Tzuyu chuckles at that, on cue like it's some cheeky sitcom. “Don’t get stupid with me,” she says, and she’s raining fire down from above. “Everyone already has said the same thing at least once or more.” 

Your eyes land on the clock hanging above the room, then they dart to the closed door. “He’s not gonna be back anytime soon, is he?” 

“Haewon’s office is at least five floors down, and the elevator apparently hasn’t been working all day..” 

“Some luck.” 

“I can make my own.” 

“I hope you know that this is a really bad path you’re going down to.” You’re deterring, but it's a lazy attempt at best, no point in shying away - because you’re not scared of Tzuyu, and you never were, mentioning the fact that she’s radioactive in her own rights. She’s equipped with an arsenal of tricks and quirks, but you’ve got your own brandished within that noggin of yours. A hand is on her thigh, trailing up to the hip, and she looks down to take the hint, scooting closer. “You’ve got some nerve, testing me like this, and you have no idea what you just signed up for.” 

“Do you have to be this serious?” Tzuyu’s hand finds yours, slipping up against the fine silk across the palm of your hand. “I’m one for keeping things simple here,” she’s telling you, watching your eyes as your fingers get rumpled over the fabric, venom lacing your nerves before you even realize it. It’ll get reactive really quick, but you stand your ground. “About the sex, don’t overcomplicate-” 

“Why would I overcomplicate something with the likes of you?” you’re asking her, and you watch as her hand finds the knot tied at the nape of her neck, unraveling it, where you see her bra. It’s no help that she’s sliding her dress down to her panties and thighs, the covers being unleashed with every inch opening up to the air. “We’re on track here, and I think I’m getting warmer here.” 

This is something serious, much like a public execution at the hands of her just strolling on by - people stopping in their tracks just to get a good look of that face, that body, so this might be some form of armageddon - but Tzuyu’s dress gets discarded somewhere in the office, to a corner where it won’t be seen on her until you’re fully done with her. Everything in your head is flowing like a whitewater river, a burning urge that gets beyond just the sexual aspect of it. So you’ll get your knees deep: 

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” you ask, and examine. The sense of being normal and professional has long gone out the way. But oh. Oh, she knows what she wants, and you’ll have the fine luxury to give that to her, because it’s what you signed up for: twist the words and her body in every way that you see fit, to fill people in on what their crown jewel of a woman is up to. “Dreaming of that one day where someone will just tell you straight: I want to fuck you. Well Tzu, today’s your lucky day.” 

Tzuyu tenses, eyes appearing like glitter, holding your hand where it stays on the rise of her hip. “I’ve never seen you this talkative outside office hours.” 

“I converse like this on the regular.” You’ve got the experience, and the hours under your belt, you’re holding the other end of the rope in her burgeoning career - if she fucks up the next time, you’re also gone along with her, too. “Now, are you gonna keep talking, or are we going to talk business?” 

Tzuyu is so good for you, in more ways than one. It’s in her eyes, the way that she tilts her head off to the side, when you’ve pushed her up against the cushions as far as you could take her, hair spilling over to her covered breasts, keeping her gaze locked with yours when you’ve sunk to the bottom of the couch - the low light of the sunset makes way for the night sky, moonlight breaking through that captures her face, illuminating the fine mold of her cheekbones, her teeth break past her lips, and she smiles a bit like practice for the waves of flashes out on the red carpet - she relaxes, feels the lace of her panties slide off her thighs like nothing. Undeniably gorgeous, is one way to put it, she’s dirty, she’s every single thing; oh god, the staring, when you look up between her legs, mouth hanging low, chest puffed up in anticipation of the relieving pressure. 

“Many people have tried to test me, get rid of the fun in what I do with my manager and such,” Tzuyu says. “But I knew-” Her hands find yours, sliding up the sides of her outer thighs, holding them in place when you start to lean in. “You didn’t do anything about it, and I liked how you were with me, to set me right, without the changes of rules.” 

“Had it been anyone else,” you acclaim, mouth leaving hot and wet kisses across the inner portion of her thigh; she’s got a hand in your hair with no intention of letting you go. 

“You,” Tzuyu says the singular syllable, reduced to just very minimal words, much like she’s being scolded. But the confession let out is like a padlock finally breaking under the pressures of the wrench: “I’ve always wanted you. I promise and fuck- I’ll be good.” 

There’s actually no way she said- 

The words that spilled out her mouth flew over your head for a short second, a minor blowback in the swing of things - but then again, why are you playing it safe with Tzuyu in the first place? There’s no need, and you’ve got to make that apparent to her; you’ve got your hands on her long legs, spreading your hand out on the skin, she’s got a hand sliding down to her glistening pussy, but she reels back when you’ve beat her to it, and Tzuyu hisses, hiding a whine, “Baby…” 

You pause, hike her up on the couch higher, focus slinging to her face, and her dead-eyed stare slams right alongside yours. 

“Tzuyu,” you’re saying, when you’ve managed to say her name that’s caught in between your vocal folds - it’s a little rushed, no exhale behind it, and a bit tattered - but there’s her demeanor, the tightness swirling in the air between you two. She’s only a few years younger - and that alone could be worse - you’ve got the better position, the better wits of how things work, the implications - and maybe you were a pawn in her game all along, there’s really no telling. 

“Love it,” she exhales, voice tripping when you dip your mouth down to her other pair of lips, “when you say my name,” she’s needy, fingers curling to your head to satiate the sensation a bit longer. Legitimately, fuck, she might end your career, make you a martyr for the whole office to witness, and she could be the one to do all that. “Baby, your fucking mouth.” 

The gaze never wavers on her, hunting - her dainty fingers are gripping the cushions, fibers of muscle moving in ways much so she would be defending herself; she’s used to giving orders and due compliance, but knows where she stands in certain situations. She could be the primary catalyst of what’s happening right now, but you’ve got full control: a green light going off in the back of your mind. There’s no turning back now, foot to the floor, bases fully loaded. She won’t- She won’t last a week in this life by playing it by the rules. 

“Need me that bad?” You ask, face twisting devilishly. Some things in this line of work have taught you that people have to be selfish at times, and you’ll fall face-first into that. “Watch and learn, sweetheart. Don’t even think about getting your hands on me.” 

Tzuyu’s lip is caught between her upper teeth, rolls her eyes, nodding profusely - it’s gonna take more than that. You see her lidded eyes, spread her apart further, “We listening?” 

“No- touching,” she sighs. This girl is soaked - the refreshing taste of her cunt on the pad of your tongue, and you’ll keep indulging. You’ve got yourself in that open space between her legs, she’s sputtering out nonsense, pulling her thighs in to combat against your hands - “Please, just- please, do this one thing for me, I swear-” 

She’s waving the flag up high in the air, and of course you’re going to take this into account. This is someone who is going to make headlines wherever she goes, has people do things that would lead into major or second-hand embarrassment, so you lean down to her aching pussy - across the folds, and her clit, so slick for you, she’s sighing a lot more louder this time - and she’ll let you mold her into any shape you want her to be, let your tongue do the talking: “Right there, yes-” she’s relaxing into your hands and face, giving you the praise she’d never thought she’d say to you ever, like some act of contrition that will absolve her actions - wow, and you’re wondering of the lucky fucker who took the pictures of her and Sullyoon got the same luxury as you’re getting right now. “Fuck, oh honey-” 

You’re paying no mind to how her hips are wiggling across your face, desperate for a sense of friction, fighting every urge to not dig her nails into your hair and get your tongue even deeper where you can send it - but you keep her legs spread, and she could almost rip into the cushions on the couch, grip tight enough to choke- 

“Taste so good,” you mutter, off to the side of her leaking slit, listening as the chorus of Tzuyu’s moans crescendo a bit before dropping in silence. “Look at you, being so good for me.” 

“Shit, you’re gonna- you’re gonna make me-” 

Whether she’s able to tell you or not, you know it all the same. Her flawless face is so torn to the fine points - faltering in every aspect of perfection, that apex, you’re working her there, warmer, and warmer-

But you pull from the tops of her thighs, shove your nose right down to her clit. Stay right fucking here, and don’t even think about moving a muscle; sometimes there’s no need to say things verbally - but the implication stands - when Tzuyu finally lets go into the heat of your mouth. 

You can be lenient, maybe have her rest in the grace period, but there’s a schedule still drawn up on the board, and the sand in the hourglass is still seeping through the middle. “I’d like to keep this up,” you tell her, cleaning up the slick spread across your lips - that fine nectar, easy to say that you’re addicted, but that’s old news. “But must I remind you that you’ve got an image to protect at this gala you’ve got in an hour?” 

“Can- Can I have my turn now?” Tzuyu asks, sitting up on the couch now, hands fast to her backside, unlatching the clips of her bra, slides out of it like it’s nothing. You’ve got your jacket discarded on her manager’s desk, hands to the buckle. Tools are being laid out here amongst you two, and Tzuyu keeps her eyes trained on you, chest rising and falling - watching the noticeable bulge appearing in your boxers. “Please, I can help - just need your cock-” 

“Do you always like to rush these things?” You ask her - pushing her back as her arms just float in the air - she’s beautiful, gorgeous, and wanting; the notion alone would already be disregarded if it wasn’t for the sensible form of structure in your head. It’s in that dimple of hers, that sly grin, those eyes, she’s a personification of eye candy: you’ll keep staring for as long as she’d like you to. “No need to answer that, but,” and you laugh in between for a slight second, “You’re really pushy today.” 

“Please, baby.” That gaze, eyes trained up with her bit lip, she’s dangerous. “For me.” 

You don’t say anything, but with a simple nod, and her fingers are fast to the elastic. 

You also like how she’s willing to follow, to listen. She’s good with her hands, she’s been trained to handle PR questions with the flick of her wrist, programmed to take information and internalize it - she’s flawless enough to stand with the other clients, even when you’re the first to make the move in kissing her, capture her mouth with yours. It’s a bit cute when she’s caught off guard, sucking the air out of her, yielding to your touch.  She’s smiling against your lips, and that’s the laced venom you’ve been cautious of. 

The grip gets let go from the back of her head, retreating, panting, the taste of her lips mixed with yours. She helped clean off the remnants of her pussy on your tongue and she’s licking her lips again wanting more. “Give me some kind of feedback. A demand. Anything,” you command, fingers dancing along her chin when she looks up so innocently. “I think you’ll ask nicely, so prove it.” 

She doesn’t even think twice about it. “I want you,” she’s coming in and out of focus in her eyes, way past the point of no return, staring at you while she’s keeping you magnetized to her hands, slowly dragging along the skin of your cock, “to fuck me, put this cock inside my pretty little pussy, and use me to cum all over-” 

Her face does it for you, shattering right in front of your eyes, wanting smile, pupils blown - you snake your arms around her back, press her down to the couch - there’s a beauty behind the sneakiness of this, the thrill of being found out, the risks taken to take advantage of someone to your own liking, let the thrums of your heartbeat be the only thing to hear within yourself - but Tzuyu goes quiet, she’s so pliant and wet that doesn’t really need any words to come out of her, just the noises when- 

“Fuck.” 

When you slide your aching cock into her cunt, slowly, painstakingly strategic, and the feeling was too much to bear for her. 

“God-” 

You draw back and snap your hips into her - a statement made, an opening in the woven threads to rip a hole in -  you’ve got a hand quick to her parting mouth, hushing her, pinning her. “Go any louder,” you’re hissing, lowly, trying to not think about the fucking clench her cunt makes around you, “Go any louder, and you’re just asking to get caught. We can’t have that, can we?” This is something new, something absolutely obscene, hiding away in the office of her manager’s - keeping a secret that nobody should be able to tell, besides you two. “Did you realize how much of a slut you are when I saw those pictures?” 

Tzuyu’s breasts wobble on the upstrokes, bouncing along while leaking all over your length. The thought of damage control is still in play, to not have her completely ruined for the red carpet in the next hour or so - but you’ll take the secrecy, construct a fake picture to ensure that will not have anyone look a second time. Nobody will know how good Tzuyu’s wrapped around you, that hot and tight cunt, a hand now wrapped around her neck, pressing down but not too much- 

A thumb is in between her lips. “Speak up.” 

“Yes- I know, fuck, it was- a mistake.” She’s choking up the words from the hand on her throat, barely enough to produce the sounds through her vocal folds, chasing for that relief that she desperately needs - “It was stupid, but,” she’s unmoving with her reasons, fervor standing strong, it’s irking - you’ve got to fuck this attitude out of her - “That doesn’t matter, please, your cock, keep fucking, right there, that’s the spot, I’ll be good, I’ll cum for you, make you not worry about-” 

“You keep talking like this and I’ll make you shut up myself.” 

She spills a line of expletives that get mixed up with the slaps of her hips with yours, but there’s one outlier - maybe two - that captures your ears. 

“I didn’t make him cum inside me, but I’ll let you do it if you want.” 

“Yeah, not happening, babe. Not like this.”

Tzuyu mewls and whimpers when you give her one good, impaling hit inside her cunt, let your cockhead rest right beneath the womb where it aches. It doesn’t help her case when she’s shaking her head in refusal, denying. You’re chuckling as she tries to shimmy out of your grasp, the sound reverberating around the room, in relief, or awe would be a way to put it. Stepping into this office was a little bit out of your way, just popping your head in to get a quick word before going on with whatever was on the agenda - until this whirlwind of events coming from her changed all that. “Please. Can you do that? I want it, I want you, so bad. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen from me again - please, if you just-” 

Luckily, everyone’s gone from the office for today - because she’s way louder than you would’ve expected - you ram your cock inside her pussy, without any care for her begging and pleading - there’s also not ruining her appearance, but you’ll pull something out of your ass or she will to cover it up. You’ve made your mark in twisting people’s words around, shifting the angles that way you’re not the one taking up the heat. Conjuring up whatever you could that might rival a con artist’s whole life. But this is also another thing: if Tzuyu’s manager walks in right now, you could prime the whole act onto her and she’ll be gone. 

“You can keep asking, begging, offering, whatever it is that you want.” It’s hard to forget that you’re on the clock, the provisos informed, lines that were drawn up from the start; you could cut it some slack, maybe for someone like her, who really knows. “I’ll keep fucking you up as long as I like, but you’re not getting me to cum up all inside you.” She tilts her head back, and you sweep down to the column of her neck, get a mark on it, not too hard. “Want it to be easy? Just keep screaming, nobody will hear you.” 

Wishing that this moment here in the room to last forever might be a tall ask. From the exchange of hitched breaths coming out of your lips and hers, to the slaps still stable in pace, bottoming her out as her ankles finally latch onto the small of your back, holding you in place - someone could walk in the room now and know without question as to what you’re doing to her - maybe with the sea of cameras at this event later will take notice as to the damage you’ve done to- 

“Inside. Please, nobody has to know. Just us.” Fuck, this girl is testing your mental tenacity, exersizing every impluse that you’ve unleashed of every dirty thought you’ve had since working with her. She could convince you with words, the magma emitting from her voice, sounding low, goes so well in tandem with her moans. “Maybe if you keep this up, I’ll let you knock me up whenever you want, wherever you want, however you want.” 

“You- Tzuyu, you- fuck-” 

“That would be so hot, you know? To use my tight pussy as your personal cumdump - shit - even the manager won’t take up on the offer, so you’re the next one in line.” 

The defiling theory alone is very, very tempting. She’s not like this when there’s a camera or journalist waiting for a slip up to pen the story - you’re still in the driver's seat, keeping it level, thinking of some substance for guidance. You’ve been in this position before, and you’ve learned. 

So: 

“I’d be honored,” you say to her, pressing a hand down her breast, grasping, pulling your cock out to do a few measly slaps along her sensitive clit to show her you’re not playing around, “So far you’ve been convincing, but you’re still new to this. A few stupid acts early on will ruin you down the line, so watch yourself.” 

In the meetings, you remember the firm tone when asked for your personal take towards a proposed plan - coming off as abrasive because that’s how gritty this industry really is without showing it - Tzuyu’s incidents have been nothing short of interesting, talking down on her for acting like a complete dumbass - but she loves the degrading, the harsh compliments. This is something that she wants, and you’d be happy to let the media eat her up alive for it. 

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that just to sway me,” you keep going, twist the knife to where it hurts: “You’re not the first one, let me tell you that, Tzuyu. And I can assure you: you certainly won’t be the last.” Hands on her hips, and you fuck in - it doesn’t get any simpler than that. “Don’t test me with that attitude, because I’ll make you change it in an instant.” 

Her entire body is like a noose, a live wire on a bomb that’s about to reach zero - she’s gripping and convulsing around your cock, you’ve got her to be this way, “Please,” pleads Tzuyu, the utterances and vowels and consonants all collapsing like some domino effect, eyes flapping shut, and the sounds of obscenity seem to get better every passing second, “You’re gonna make me- make me fucking cum, oh god-” 

She’s got so much potential to shake the industry up, not since Sana first came around and did some damage to you. Mina was also the same, and could match up with Sana if the universe allowed it. No one is ready for what Tzuyu has to offer, no fan could scream and break down crying let alone a photoshoot capture the beauty she carries with that face of hers, and that body, every part is sculpted to immaculate perfection, the flex in her abs when you thrust down, catch the arch in her back with an arm, get your forehead with hers, the scaffolding finally losing it’s last limbs of support at the ground level, hand quick to the hard bud of her nipple-

“Cum all over this cock, Tzu,” you’re sighing, leaning down to coax her with a kiss, and she’s got a hand raked through your hair again. “Cum for me. Do it. No shying away from me this time.” 

And like you’ve observed before, the mental note much like a callback, she’s so easy to comply; it's in how your mouth works over her, cunt so slippery hot in friction with your cock sliding in with no problem whatsoever, this is everything to you - and Tzuyu’s body goes limp, holding in a noise in her lungs. It’s a high-pitched ‘fuck’ followed with a murmur of your name, muddled with ‘baby, oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-’ 

You’ll leave a mark for someone else to notice, the shade with enough bite that could be covered up with a little foundation, let her ride out the peak of her high. “Breathe, Tzuyu. There we go, nice and easy, soak up my cock with that pussy of yours. Jesus.” 

Tzuyu picks up on things fast, and she’s reduced to a various spill of words. She’s a shuddering mess, sinking her hips down to get a lasting feeling of your cock when you pull out - but she’s quick to get up, hands fast to your thighs; leaning down, a swift lick up on the underside. Her makeup is a bit battered, chest slick and light pink from all the marks you put; she hollows her cheeks, has a little bit of fun, and you start to sink. 

“Tzu.” 

She gives no response, lowering her mouth past the halfway point, eyes lidded, but weighted with intent, appalled; her cheek blows up unintentionally, lathering up your cock in her spit, and your head falls back to the crown of the seat. She’s unsure with what she’s doing, you’re tensing and untensing in the lower half, but complaining is the last thing you’ll do. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say, gritting your teeth when Tzuyu reaches down a spot near the base, tongue grazing at a vein, where the head of your cock is staring down the hollow of her throat, a slight clench. She could care less with the curses leaving your mouth, it just tells her she’s doing something right. “Do whatever you want, and I’ll owe you next time. Fuck-” 

It does some form of numbers in your head when her eyes lock onto yours, smiling with half a cock in her mouth, quick to shut you up. 

Her mouth is amazing - and that could be an understatement. She’s holding you at the base, where the angle of your cock is tied down between her fingers. You let her take control for a bit, try to see if she can do it herself - but you’ll play the role of guidance again, because that’s what you do, help out in ways that make her have the moment - so you lean forward, hand fast to the back of her head, and you feel her jaw go slack, muffle the choking sound coming out of her open mouth- 

“Fuck, Tzuyu,” you grit, the name alone of hers is an easy impulse to keep doing; you’ve got her hair in this makeshift ponytail, out of the way when she continues to bob her head up and down the length. It was a boring day for you anyway, but at least you’ve made it up to have the prospecting breakout actress strip her clothes down and get on her knees in her manager’s office. “Just keep- yeah, okay, there we- ugh, shit-” 

She mumbles a brief phrase of a ‘mhm’, mouth wide open, salivating, nudging your cockhead down into her throat before pulling back up for another wisp of air - her index and thumb are wrapped around the bottom of your shaft, closing her eyes as the contraction literally leaves you breathless - all the way down into her throat, holding her up with her hair as much as you can- 

Yet the sound that rips from the cavity in your chest, it’s loud enough for someone to hear down the hallway, probably someone from the floor below to pick up on the commotion too. 

Tzuyu’s mouth lets out this sobbed out sound, coughing and inhaling your cock when you cum down her throat - she can’t swallow it all, you think, but you forget her ambition at times when she holds herself, eventually pulling back - eyes glossy and full of impurity, burning irises that mimic Sana’s when she also- 

“God-” you manage to choke out, fixated on the image of Tzuyu cleaning her face up with a small stream of your cum leaking out the corner of her lip. But, you’re satisfied. You’ll let her take the credit for now.

It also doesn’t help when she’s got a finger circling her slicked lips, tilting her head when she hollows her cheeks again around her fingertip. She knows she’s hot, how dirty she can get - and she’d let you do anything and everything from the fucking on the floor to railing her on the walls, because she’s got her own center of gravity with her being, that’s just how it is. 

You can’t help when you’ve pulled her back to your space, catching her lips, since that’s the only logical thing to do with her, and she’ll accept it. “Mmph. I just- you, you-”

“Yeah?” You’re saying, face in your hands when you keep kissing her. “Something to say?” 

“My mouth- you?” 

“And what about it?” 

“Your cum. You just-” 

“I overheard Sana talk to you about her story with me the other day, figured I’d just do it anyway.” 

The tone in your voice is a clear contrast to all the filthy stuff you were telling just a few minutes ago, it’s still crotchety, but a little more lighter than usual - like everything that was a worry suddenly just washed away, and all of a sudden Tzuyu’s quick to get your neck corralled with her arms, leaning for another kiss, the hums alone are delightful, pushing hysterical a bit. 

“I hate you,” she says, a chaste peck to your cheek when you’ve got her ass on top of your forearms, carrying her. She’s laying out a few suggestions, but you’re telling her that the gala could wait, to waste more time to explore her body, more and more. ‘That’s a lie, by the way, but I’m sure you knew that.” 

Shutting her up is a viable option, but she’s right on the jump with that one ahead of you - so she kisses you, why bother putting up a fight against that?

-

The car ride on the way to the gala premiere is nothing short in terms of quiet. Some chatter is being thrown around with you and the driver, since Tzuyu’s manager also had the unfortunate task of bringing some swinger that’s already made a name for herself with the company, per instructions given by Jihyo; you remember hearing it past the open door to your office, named Kim so-and-so on the files. Maybe it was Jennie or Jiwon, or was the name beginning with a letter D? 

“I think the boss man is convinced with your lobbying,” Tzuyu says under her breath. Like you, she’s managed to clean up her appearance - scent still fresh of sex, her hair still a bit rattled, but is trying to repair as much as she can. You can’t keep your gaze off of her; how the headlights from the oncoming cars illuminate through her eyes, handing you her hair band because it doesn’t match up with the look. 

“I mean, if you already asked him what you asked me, and he still refused,” chuckling when you’re looking out the window towards the sidewalk, trailing the crowd of people lining up around the venue, “That should give you enough prose to ask me, since I was next in line.” 

Tzuyu just laughs, dipping her head down - she’s infectious, without even putting effort into trying. You’re seeing why she’s bound to be a topic once she’s put herself out there, and - sure, you could draft up a file with all of that content in a heartbeat. Needless to say, you’ll be one of the many fans. 

“It was supposed to be sarcastic commentary,” Tzuyu tuts, combing her hair over to one side - at the left shoulder, turning her back towards you with the red strands of her dress untied. She peeks over before looking away, fingers fast to knot the ends for a snug fit, pat her collarbones down before tilting down to place a small kiss on her nape. “But on a serious note: do you really think you can handle my little fiasco?” 

You notice that the cars ahead start to slow down, file in line with security personnel stationed along the street, managing traffic. A whole lot of commotion going outside with the photo area, photographers getting ready with their cameras and flashes angled toward the cars, and thank God that the windows are tinted for good reason, brows furrowing in assessing the sea of different media outlets in attendance. 

Tzuyu flows her hair forward, a last minute touch up as she takes a deep breath to calm her mind. You’re playing the stand-in role of bodyguard, checking every side of the car to make sure that things are right in place, avoiding any form of fuck up that might pop up in the next few minutes or so. 

Just when a worker from the red carpet event approaches the door, a buzz vibrates on your thigh. One check later and it’s Tzuyu’s manager. With no hesitation, you answer: 

“Yeah. Oh, okay. Okay. Right, you got it.” 

“I’m trusting you with her. Please don’t fuck this up.” 

“I won’t,” you say, in a melancholic tone to which Tzuyu smirks at. “Good luck with Dahyun? I forgot her name, but it is Dahyun, is it?” 

“Don’t push your luck here, bye.” 

Once that’s gone out of the way, you move over to wave a hand to the worker, signaling a two in your hand to let them know of the delay. After touching bases. You settle back into the backseat, watch as Tzuyu observes from the window, taking in the sight of what she’s dedicated a good portion of her life towards - to thrive in the glares of publicity, get engulfed in the growing flames of fame. She can do a whole lot more than just stand still and look pretty, and you’ll help her there along the way. 

“Still think this is a lot to handle?” You ask, peering over her shoulder, causing her to twist back around to face you. “To be fair, you were pretty nervous when we brought up the incident earlier, so I’m just checking up on you.” 

Tzuyu simply stares, again. Her face may appear blank, but her eyes and the subtle quirk at the corner of her lips tell a different tale entirely. There’s also that sly dimple too, man, she’s too good for you to the point where it’s bad. So what if people already caught wind of her story, you’ve got the contingencies, the fallback if things go south; she got herself into this mess, and you know what you signed up for. 

“They all can go to hell if it comes my way,” says Tzuyu, face falling forward, leaning for a kiss. “Where’s the risk if you don’t run into a cyclone head on?” 

When she gets forward with a hand on the door handle, opening up to reveal herself to the world, you shake your head at her, because that’s another point of discovery to add to her growing list of character: she’ll be the face of this company in record time as long as she keeps acting this way, and you wouldn’t mind staying by her side for whatever is in store. 

Right before she goes any further down the capet, she twirls around on that singular heel on the sidewalk, facing you when you scan the screaming audience, landing your eyes on Tzuyu again - in all of her beauty and elegance, you’ll keep admiring no matter how far or close you are to her. 

An outreaching hand, the simplest gesture, and she asks: “So, are you ready tonight?” 

-

a/n: @co-reborn surprise! not really lol, but this fic is slightly dedicated to them. thank you taking time to read as always <3

[talesofesther]

a touch of emotion

Connor x Reader

Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.

A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3

Masterlist

"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.

"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."

A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.

He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.

Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.

"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."

Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.

And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.

Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.

You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?

"You okay?"

Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.

You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.

"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.

"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.

You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."

There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.

"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.

"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.

Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.

Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.

It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.

How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?

Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.

Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.

"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.

Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.

"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."

It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.

"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"

"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.

You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.

When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.

Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.

Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.

You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.

Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.

"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."

Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.

As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

[izvmimi]

cw: children, dad!aizawa to eri, single mom!reader with a named daughter, fluff. repost.

“Hi, just wanted to introduce myself! I’m ___, our daughters play together sometimes.”

Aizawa looks blankly at you, heavy-lidded eyes trying to comprehend what you’ve just told him so matter-of-factly.

Daughter… daughter? He doesn’t have a daughter, he thinks, but he’s at the park, and you, standing before him, are convinced he belongs to one of the children running around, tripping on wood chips and making their way down the slide, and then he remembers once his eyes settle on her.

Yes, Eri. His daughter.

She’s almost eight now, and is still small enough for her age that she looks about six, the same approximate age as the bright-eyed girl holding on to her hand, and practically jumping up and down. The little girl has been pulling Aizawa’s not-really-daughter, up and down the jungle gym for the past twenty minutes, and Aizawa has only just realized that it’s the same girl every time. He’s been lost in thought, mind attuned only to immediate danger, not the shenanigans of small kids.

Perhaps he’s doing a bad job at this dad thing. How could he not have noticed?

“Hello, nice to meet you,” he says quickly, and you offer him a smile that is a little too understanding for his comfort. Can you read his thoughts? 

Aizawa distracts himself from further psychological tangents. He points.

“The one right there?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod and turn to face them.

“Yes. Her name’s Akari.”

Aizawa glances at you again as you watch the children, wondering if he should say something about the kanji, if it includes the characters for the color red or the one for bright. Eri’s favorite dress is red. Should he try to make a joke? Is that what parents do to connect?

“Ah,” is all he manages to say.

“Eri is a very sweet girl,” you say. Aizawa realizes he should have introduced Eri properly as well, but you’ve filled in the gap.

“Yes, she is,” he replies. You look at him again, more intentionally this time, and Aizawa can feel himself tense up. He doesn’t know why. Perhaps it’s the earnest nature he can feel radiating from you, an innate friendliness he’s uncomfortable with. He doesn’t know.

“Can I set up a play date sometime?” you ask. “Akari is terribly fond of her and she’s been a bit more lonely recently.”

You aren’t disclosing the fact that her father has been out of the picture for a while. Why pour yourself out to this stranger?

“Sure.”

And that’s that.

Eri arrives a few days later, the widest smile on her face, at your doorstep, Aizawa standing close behind her. He doesn’t look any less tired, or any less out of it, but encourages her in a gentle voice to go off and play. She nods, and Akari is bold as ever, dragging Eri in as quickly as possible. You laugh as you get out of the two girls’ way before they run you over.

Aizawa remains at the entrance, his hands in his pockets. You try to think of something else to say to this man of few words, and he tries to as well. 

“… Would you like to come in? I have tea,” you offer. “Akari is probably showing her all of her dolls and toys in the back room, if you’re wondering.”

Aizawa opens his mouth, and you are certain he’ll say no.

He hesitates.

“Sure,” he says again.

There’s something in the air you feel shift as he crosses the threshold of your home, an odd sensation in your shoulders that fades by the time he takes off his shoes.

A feeling that he’s here in a way that’s more permanent than an afternoon tea.

Something you don’t yet understand but portends something new.

[writteninkat]

printed in crimson | Bakugou x Reader

synopsis: Your problems? One, you like Katsuki Bakugou, but he's the personification of a red flag. And two, you like to see how red the flag can get.

warnings: toxic relationship, smut, asshole katsuki, dumbass reader

wc: 3.9k

a/n: not proofread

navigation

Katsuki pushes your head on the mattress, fucking you roughly as he chases his own high. Your cunt clenched at his rough treatment, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He chants, tightening his grasp on yoyr hair. "God this pussy loves me." Gasping, he lifts your hips up in the air, letting go of your strands as he sharply slaps your ass, using some of his quirk.

The area blooms with heat as your orgasm catches you offguard, your walls clamping down at the desperate man behind you. He bottoms inside you, voice raspy and deep as he reaches his own high, half his body falling on you.

"Get the fuck off me." You bite out, pushing yourself from under him. As your actions push his cock out of you, the feeling of his load dripping down your thighs make you shiver.

Walking towards your bathroom, you try your best to ignore the tenderness between your legs. You grit your teeth together just as you walk in, slamming the door behind you.

You face your mirror, immediately pissed at the marks he left all over your neck and torso. Bitten and bruised, you touch on the particularly swollen part on your shoulder. You remember him sinking his teeth there after you rode him so hard and fast your abs ached.

Clicking your tongue, you step under the shower, letting the warmth of the water ease you back into a peaceful state of mind.

"You lying bitch." Momo's eyebrows are knitted in fury, her gazed casted on your neck. Everyone else in the table follows her line of sight, a series of disappointed groans and tired sighs erupting from them.

You brings your hand up to cover the spot, rolling your eyes. "I thought I'd be better at color correcting now." You mumble.

Ochaco crosses her arms in dismay, glaring at you.

"Oh, come on, guys! I'm sorry, I made an honest mistake!" You whine, "This is the last time, I promise!"

"How the hell do you mistakenly fuck Katsuki Bakugou?" Momo chastises, her glare feeling like multiple knives stabbing you in the same place. Just in different angles. And they're all on fire.

"Look, our agencies had a meeting, the both of us were the last ones to leave the room-"

"So you fucked him?" Momo summarizes.

Before you even get a word out, Izuku cuts in. "Isn't it weird how Kacchan is very vocal about his hate for you and yet he still goes back everytime your paths cross?"

"I think 'hate' is too much of a strong word." Tsuyu voices her thoughts.

"No it's not. And if you think it is, you can shove that opinion up your ass. He hates me and I hate him. That's just simple facts." You frown, heart softening at the sight of Tsuyu dejected.

You hold your hand up at her, "Sorry- sorry Tsu. I just- it's been a rough week." You sigh.

"You mean a rough night?" Tenya cackles, making you shift your glare at him.

"That's one, Iida." You bite out.

"You claim you hate him, yet you still bed him." Shoto points out, sipping on his green tea. "I wonder why that is."

Yet again, right before you could defend yourself, your friends begin to jump at you.

"It's cause her favorite color's red." Momo jokes.

Ochaco shakes her head, "No, I'm pretty sure she once claimed to be a flagpole."

Kyoka, who's been silent all this time, spits her drink. "Nah, nah. She just likes to see how red the flag gets." She laughs, punching soft jabs at your arm as you glare at her.

"Alright, you know what! I'm not gonna stand for this!" You slam your palms on the table, standing from your seat. "I'm a good person, alright?! If I every treat you like shit, then that's on you. You provoked me."

Shoto raises a brow at you. "And what does it mean if you tolerate being treated like shit?"

The table is silent for a moment before your narrow your eyes at the hero, "Shut the fuck up and drink your tea." You sneer, sitting back down, crossing your arms and legs.

Just as the topic shifts to another, the cafe's bell rings, announcing someone's arrival. Your eyes train to the sound, widening at the sight of familiar red hair. His eyes scan the room before falling on your table, a wide, spiky smile stretching across his face. "Hey guys! Didn't know you all would be here!"

"Hey Eiji!" You smile back at him, allowing him to engulf you in a big hug.

A hand appears on his bicep, squeezing it tightly. "Hands to yourself." Katsuki's voice rumbles from behind the red head.

"Don't tell him what to do." You glower at the blond, arms tightening around his best friend's waist in defiance. You look up at Eijiro with wide, pleading eyes. "Hug me, Eij." You pout.

You can feel everyone's stares at you as Eijirou raises a brow in question. You ignore the fuming Katsuki behind him, softly squeezing his back in encouragement. Eijirou sighs, gently pushing you away. "Sorry babe, I don't wanna get in between whatever bullshit you and Bakubro are into."

Your table cackles as you roll your eyes at the red head.

"I have work to finish." You take your bag and your drink as it's still halfway full. "I'll see you guys soon." Without making eyecontact with anyone, you swiftly leave the cafe.

You take out a cigarette from your purse, keeping it between your mouth as you blindly search for your lighter. "Fuck." You curse, turning a corner. Now away from curious eyes, you begin shuffling throigh the numerous shit inside your little purse until a hand grabs your shoulder.

Immediately out into fight mode, you grab onto the person's forearm, about to throw them into a body slam but their actions are quick. You're spun around and slammed into the wall behind you, your eyes falling on familiar vermilion orbs.

"What do you want, Katsuki?" Your eyes narrowed and tone sharp, you attempt to break free from his hold, but the numerous times you've tried this in bed reminds you you're simply wasting your energy.

"You ignore me after the night we had? You hurt my feelings, princess." He smirks, moving his head towards you. "Don't fucking call me that." You spit. "And so what if I do? You don't control me."

"A few nights together tells me I do, actually."

Your nape burns at his statement.

"Keep talking like that and I'll remind you just how flammable your penthouse is." Your threat falls on deaf ears as he presses his body against yours. His lips press against your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell. "You gotta stop using this shit." He plucks the cigarette out of your mouth, crushing it between his fingers.

"I take it cause of you. You stress me the fuck out." Your menacing look is exchanged with a raised brow.

"And you think that little attitude of yours doesn't give me headaches?" He scoffs, apparently appalled by this personality of yours he's already familiar with.

You smile sweetly, "Your prettiest headache, right?"

Katsuki freezes at your question, surprisingly stumped before it resumes to his usual frown. He lets go of you, his fierce stare stuck on you for a few moments before he clicks his tongue and walks away.

"Hell's his problem?" You mutter, taking your pack of cigarettes once more. As you hold a stick between your fingers, you stare at it for a moment, nibbling on your lip in contemplation before sighing. You place the stick back inside the pack, returning it inside your purse before leaving the narrow alley.

The hero's gala is filled with sparkling dresses and pressed suits. You're stuck in a conversation with some foreigner hero, laughing and nodding at the right time, and only talking when you actually listen to whatever he's saying.

You can't help but scan the room for a familiar blond. Yeah, the invitation said you could bring a plus one, but he won't actually bring someone, right? He simply isn't the type.

"And how is hero work here in Japan? Ever thought of moving to a different country?" You look up at the hero in question. "I enjoy the work I do here, so no, I've never thought to emigrate, but maybe I will in the future. We never know." You shrug your shoulders, chuckling as he and the other heroes around you laugh boisterously.

You space out, their voices muffled as you swirl the wine in your glass. Bringing it up your lips, you're about to tilt it up when you hear a familiar name from behind you.

"-Bakugou. Or, Dynamight." A feminine voice introduces.

"Of course I know Dynamight! He's one of my favorite heros!" An older male voice replies loudly.

You furrow your brows, turning around. Just as expected, you come face to face with Katsuki. The suit looks impeccable on him, buttons fighting for their lives to keep the shirt closed and the arm sleeves barely containing his meaty biceps.

His eyes drop on yours, bored and uninterested. Your stare shifts to the beautiful brunette in his arms. Unsure whether it's jealousy or anger, or simply just hurt and betrayal that's making your blood boil, you softly excuse yourself from the guests around you.

Without another look back, you make your way to the balcony, taking a deep breath of the cold night air.

Annoyed.

Exactly, I'm annoyed to see him. His face is annoying, that's why I was pissy.

You're really just convincing yourself at this point.

Looking out into the mountain ranges that overlooks the balcony, you feel a sense of calm and peace. The tranquility lasts for only a minute until it's shattered once more by the familiar scent of sweet caramel.

"Who'd the unlucky guy you brought?" He asks, taking up the space beside you. Huffing in annoyance, you roll your eyes at nothing.

"For your information, if I did bring anyone tonight, it'd be the best night of their life."

Katsuki furrows his brows, glancing at you with confusion written all over his space. "You, on the other hand, seems to have made it your goal to ruin that poor girl's night." You face him, memorizing his fazed expression before turning back towards the double doors.

"She's beautiful, make sure she enjoys the party."

And with that, you step away from him. Except you try/ to, when he grabs your wrist, spinning you back around.

"Why didn't you bring a date?" You raise a brow at his question, rolling your eyes as you attempt to free your wrist from his grasp.

"Is it any of your business? Let go!" You demand, pulling your wrist from him as hard as you can. Katsuki doesn't budge, his chest rising and falling furiously as his eyes penetrate yours.

"Katsuki, I said let go-"

"Did you want it to be me?" He asks, shoving his face towards yours.

"You- what?" You tilt your head in confusion, "No!" You lie. "Of course not!"

"Liar."

Fury swirls in your stomach as you raise your hand, slapping him across the face. His grip loosens, taken aback.

You stand there, one arm suspended in the air and the other folded against your chest. A red mark begins to bloom on his cheek.

Swallowing harshly, you take him by his collar, pulling him against you as you press your lips together. Immediately, Katsuki kisses back feverishly, hands moving all over your body. One hand squeezes your waist while the other grabs your ass, pulling your ody towards his. He backs you up against the balustrade, both hands moving up your sides, embracing tightly you as if you were gonna slip from his arms any second.

You run your hands up his chest, scratching your nails up his nape until they bury themselves into his hair. His tongue dances with yours in a consuming, desperate song. He tastes of sweet wine and chocolate, your senses hightening, making your head grow light.

He pulls away, your breaths clashing with each other as you you look up into his eyes. They scream with devastation and anguish, it makes you question everything he's done to you in the past.

His hands begin to frantically undo his belt, your eyes widening as you look behind him. The curtains were drawn to cover the glass doors, probably to hide the fact that this balcony existed. But it'll only take one swipe and everyone inside would see the both of you in this state.

"Katsuki, I don't think-"

"Shut the fuck up and open your legs." He growls, using his thigh to part them. The second he makes contact with your pulsing cunt, all reason flies out your brain through a needy moan.

You look down between the both of you, watching him pump his cock once, twice, spreading his precum all over his member before he positions himself to be right infront of your hole.

You nibble on your lower lip, allowing him to push your panties to the side. Without wasting another moment, Katsuki thrusts his entire length inside you, your teeth drawing blood as you struggle to stay quiet. Katsuki softly brushes his thumb against your cheek, pressing on your lip for you to let go.

"Red looks amazing on you." He says, eyeing the blood staining your lip. Without pausing his hips, he lowers his lips down to yours, tongue peeking out as he brushes it against the crimson.

"Fuck, you make me crazy." He mutters, pulling back. He grabs the backs of your thighs, pulling them to his hips as he fucks you harder, faster.

You grab onto his shoulder for support, digging your nails onto his shoulder as your back arches. "Fuck yeah, fuck yeah Katsuki." You breathe out, slowly leaning back. Your hair bounces and trickles behind you until they're completely hanging off.

"God, this pussy should be classified as a drug." He grunts, his pace rougher now. "Can't seem to fucking quit it."

The balustrade can only be so wide, it can only accompany your ass and lower back. As you try to pull yourself back up, Katsuki wraps his hand around your throat, pushing you back.

"Katsuki!" You manage to breathe out, his grip straining. "I'm gonna fall!" You wheeze, clawing at his arm as he continues to fuck you with abandon.

"Imagine that." He smirks, leaning over. "Once I let go, you fall fifty feet. Legs still wide open and my cum dripping out of you."

Your eyes widen as the blond bites and nips at your chest, pulling the dress down to reveal your breasts. He takes a nipple inside your mouth, sucking on it harshly as his gaze glue themselves on you. Your eyelids flutter and your walls clamp down on his cock, the stimulation burning a fire of euphoria in your belly.

"Like that, huh? Like it when I hold your life in my hand?" He chuckles darkly, repeating his action to your other tit. The slapping of his skin against yours fill the balcony, the erotic sound filling your head with bliss as you forget about the life or death situation the hero has put you in, chasing your own high instead.

"That's it, fucking come for me princess." He pinches your clit, ripping an orgasm out of you. Your thighs clench together around his hips as your head tips over. You watch the world in an upside down manner as waves upon waves of ecstacy drift throughout your body.

As the feeling recedes, you're being pulled from danger and dropped onto the floor, the sticky and warm feeling of cum dripping down your inner thighs.

"Asshole." You growl at the blond fixing his pants.

You follow him, pulling your panties and dress back in place before holding onto the railings for support as you begin to stand up.

Katsuki stares at you for a moment, eyes looking desperate, as if he wants to say something, before averting his gaze. He clears his throat, clenching his hand into a fist then walks off without a word, leaving you in the balcony.

It's cold.

You're alone.

And you feel like crap.

You lean on the railing for a moment, wondering to yourself why you can't leave whatever this relationship you have with Katsuki. It isn't healthy at all.

You want a man who'll cook breakfast for you after sex, someone who'll clean you up and give you snuggles. Someone who cares about what you think and say.

"Oh, hey you." Your head flicks up at the new voice, your sights one Shinsou as he exits the ballroom. His hair is combed back, a simple suit on and in his hand is a sparkling glass of champagne.

"Ah, hey." You wipe off the tear you didn't realize fell. You turn around, a weak attempt to hide your welling eyes from him.

"You okay?" He asks, taking over the space Katsuki had just stood in before fucking you up.

"Ah, yeah. I'm fine." You chuckle nervously, pressing your lips together as you continue wiping off multiple tears that stream down on their own.

Shinsou stares at you before turning his gaze towards the mountains.

It's still quiet and peaceful. Shinsou doesn't disrupt the tranquility like Katsuki does. And he doesn't push or order you to tell him what's on your mind—he simply just stands there, waiting for you to finish.

"Actually-" You sniff, "I'm not okay."

"I gathered that." He takes a sip of his champagne.

You chuckle at your pathetic state, fidgeting.

"I keep going for shitty guys." Your lower lip wobbles, "And I don't know why. My therapist says they're simply my pattern, but I can never understand the root cause of it." You squint, remembering all the painful memories of the jerks you used to date. And the one jerk you can't seem to let go of.

"Maybe it's cause you think you don't deserve better." Shinsou places his now empty glass on the marble balustrade, turning his head towards you. "What is it you want?"

You look into the distance, your teeth playing with your lower lip as the pain from before resurfaces.

"I want a good guy. Someone who takes care of me, listens to me. Someone who shuts the fuck up for once." You chuckle, turning to Shinsou.

The man already has his body facing directly at you, flashing you a rare smile. "And Katsuki Bakugou isn't that for you."

Your brows curl in disappointment, "But I want him-"

Shinsou softly places his thumb on your lips, effectively shutting you up. "Leave him alone before the big man up there takes away that choice."

Your eyes widen, hand moving to your belly.

"You're an amazing woman. You'll find the right person to... shut the fuck up and listens to you." His smile grows wider before he takes his hand back, stepping away from you and returning inside.

You blink once, twice, before letting out a tired sigh. Just as you're about to return inside, you notice a piece of paper underneath Shinsou's empty champagne glass.

He'd scribbled his number on it. When? You have no idea. But he must have inserted it while you were busy gazing at nothing. You pull it off, inspecting it.

Should I take this chance? Call him tomorrow, maybe?

"He'll bore you." A deep and gravelly voice you know all too well sounds from behind you, making you freeze. The paper is plucked from your fingers as Katsuki moves toward you, his face right beside yours. The both of you look at the numbers scribbled on the paper.

"And you deserve someone who'll keep you on your toes."

"Being in a healthy relationship wouldn't be boring, it'd be peaceful." You say, trying to convince yourself.

"You don't want peace, princess. You wanna see the red flags in shapes of hearts." He whispers into your ear, making you swallow hard.

"You're not a fucking carnival, Katsuki." You grit out.

"But you love the rides I offer." He chuckles, making your head snap towards him.

"Shinsou will treat me the way I deserve." You defend.

"He won't treat you the way you want, princess. How you truly want it. You go with him and ten years later you're sitting at home taking care of one and a half kids, with a white picket fence around your house as you wait for Mind Control to get home." He talks as if he can see the future. "Is that what you want?"

The picture he painted terrifies you.

Your eyes return to the paper in the blond's grasp.

"I'll answer that for you." He whispers, pressing a kiss against your neck as multiple tiny explosions go off on his palm, effectively burning the small paper.

He wraps an arm around your center, pulling your body onto his as he licks your neck. "You're never getting rid of me, princess. I'm gonna ruin your life the same way you ruined mine."

"You just hate progression, don't you?" Momo raises a brow as she stares at the marks on your neck. You didn't bother to cover them up this time—she'll still be able to spot them.

"More like she's regressing." Tenya jabs, making you pinch his side. He exclaims in pain, going on a tangent about how you shouldn't do that while you tune him out, looking out through the glass window.

"I'm bored." You yawn.

"And Katsuki Bakugou isn't the game you wanna play." Kiyoka deadpans, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I beg to differ. I simply haven't learned the cheat codes yet." You smile, taking your iced caramel macchiato.

"I'll tell you the codes—unplug the damn game and get another one." Izuku sighs tiredly, leaning back into his seat. "I swear, one day you're gonna end up killing the dude cause you found out he fucked a different girl."

You giggle, leaning into Tenya, taking a sip out of your coffee.

"And you didn't give Shinsou a chance?" Tsuyu asks, taking a bite out of her cake. The corners of your lips pull into a frown as you shake your head. "Nah, I memorized his number and sent him a text last night. We're meeting for drinks later."

Momo's eyes widen as Ochako looks at you with bewilderment. "What-" Ochako stutters, "I'm confused. Are the both of you going on a date?"

"What? No!" You giggle, "We're having drinks as friends! Thought maybe I should expand my circle. I don't wanna keep getting shit from you guys." You roll your eyes.

"Uhuh..." Izuku draws out, "And how does Kacchan feel about this?"

"He doesn't need to know." You place a finger against your lips.

Momo's eyebrows raise, impressed by your reply. "You're learning a lot from him, huh? Doesn't seem like something I want you to be doing."

You simply shrug, returning your gaze outside as you tilt your head up. Past the waving leaves of the trees, is a window. You smirk as you think about how Katsuki must take you for an idiot. Your phone vibrates beside you and you lift it, the screen instantly lighting up to show a notification form 'settings' with the settings picture on the side. You smile, clicking on it.

Settings: Since when did you notice?

You: Ever since we got here.

You: Stick to being a hero, Katsuki. You're not very good at trailing people.

Settings: Shut the fuck up

Your turn your phone off before returning your attention to your friends, butterflies erupting in your stomach, extremely excited at what's to come in the near future.

Sure thing is, you won't be taking care of one and a half babies for sure.

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do You Need to Let Go Of?

Hello beautiful people! Today is Saturday aka Saturn Day. In honor of Saturn Day, the day associated with banishment, protection and responsibility. Today is the day we let go of what no longer serves us; the day where we can no longer ignore what sits heavy on our spirits. So without further ado, please choose your Saturn.

**If you really loved this topic then you should book a reading with me, please read my guidelines and then message me privately! Also, if you had received a reading from me, don’t be afraid to leave a little feedback! Please and thank you in advance. 🫶🫶🫶

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)

PILE ONE: “No More Mr. Nice Guy” is what I heard. I feel like you tend to have a lot of love & compassion for people. This doesn’t necessarily translate over to the other person/people though. You need to stop being so nice, Pile One. I think you have a lot of growing up to do. There is good and bad in everyone but what really matters is how this person makes you feel. Stop caring about the feelings of other people if you aren’t going to take yourself into consideration. This is why you always get taken advantage of. It’s okay to be a moody bitch sometimes. Having a sunny disposition 24/7 just isn’t realistic. Don’t act naive when you know the truth about certain situations. Move intentionally and with wisdom. If you don’t think they won’t do that, think again.

Cards Used: The Star, King of Cups, 7 of Cups, The Fool, The Moon, The Tower, Judgment.

PILE TWO: The movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind may resonate with you. I feel like you need to let go of your ex, seriously. You don’t have to forget about them but you do need to move past this person. They have caused much turmoil in your life, especially when it comes to your mental health. They could have indirectly negatively affected your finances as well. But there is someone else who is on the horizon. They want you to see the bigger picture. They want to show you better. If you have been writing notes about what you would like to see in your future partner, expect for these qualities to show up in someone that will soon approach you. They have a beautiful, colorful aura and they will let you shine. Your ex fucked you up bad but you can recover from this. Don’t be afraid to see what love has in store for you, my love.

Cards Used: King of Cups, The Magician, 2 of Cups (RX), The Star, The High Priestess, 5 of Wands, Judgment, Strength, The Fool.

PILE THREE: You’re a Virgo/Sagittarius, aren’t you? You don’t have to know and control everything, honey. Let go of the need to be involved in everything. You have been neglecting your soul’s needs. You have a lot of potential to grow but you don’t know how to accept help nor do you allow yourself to just be. You’re so uptight and burnt out right now. It would benefit you to just walk away from stress-inducing situations. If you know you can’t take that extra shift at work, why even bother? Who are you trying to please? You are making it hard for yourself to maneuver through this world peacefully because you do not know how to enjoy what’s in front of you. If only you could see the beauty of your labor. Slow down. Why are you going so hard for? You’re so used to making things happen that you get frustrated when things don’t work out your way. A word of advice: Please just allow time to do its thing. Don’t work against it.

Cards Used: The Sun (RX), Ace of Cups, Strength, 2 of Discs (RX), King of Wands, 7 of Wands (RX), 3 of Discs, 10 of Swords, The Magician, The Hierophant.

PILE FOUR: Christmastime must be your favorite time of the year, huh? I feel like you could also have a strong connection to Mariah Carey as well. Her book is on my mind heavy as I’m reading for you. I feel like you are so used to dysfunctional relationships. You have the tendency to move fast with people. I’m going to hold your hand when I say this, they ain’t going nowhere! Let go of your lovebombing tendencies and show up as your real self. I don’t think you see this as that but it is. You don’t seem to be big on communication. I don’t think you had the best role models for any kind of relationship so you just do what you know. But this does not translate well with other people, which results in chaos. Unpack why you interact with others the way that you do. You too, have a lot of growing up to do, my friend.

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, King of Swords, Queen of Cups (RX), Four of Wands (RX), Ace of Wands (RX), The High Priestess, 8 of Wands, 3 of Cups.

PILE FIVE: “Shut up and dance.” No seriously, shut up and dance. I feel like you are someone that refuses to be seen dancing in public or just in general. There is no need to feel like that. Let go of your shyness, babe. I feel like you actually have good dance moves, you just don’t want to be seen for some reason. Dancing will help you get more comfortable in the spotlight. You have gotten too comfortable in your little bubble. The next time someone asks you to dance, accept the offer (especially if it’s zydeco, salsa or kompa 🙈). You’re never too cute to dance, pookie.

Cards Used: The Hermit, Knight of Discs, The Chariot, 6 of Wands, The Empress, King of Discs (RX).

PILE SIX: Why are you wasting your time arguing with everyone? You need to master the art of preserving your energy. Let go of the need to prove yourself/defend yourself to other people. You exist just like everyone else on this planet but somehow you always end up in a verbal altercation. Is it worth it? I’m sure there’s plenty of alternative options you could choose. Just walking away could do you some good. You are the type of person to catch someone in a lie. Instead of cursing them out, you could just laugh in their face or block them. You could channel this energy into something else. It is normal to experience anger. But just know that you could always get in trouble if you never control it properly. Get a handle on your emotions. Be more logical & cutthroat. I think you definitely could benefit from taking the high road. Your soul is tired. Give it up, babe.

Cards Used: Knight of Swords, Queen of Swords, The Lovers, 8 of Cups, Ace of Swords, The Hermit, Justice, The Moon, The Star.

[surielstea]

Strings Attached

Based on this request.

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has had a crush on Helion for awhile now but feels inadequate when compared to the partners he brings to bed.

Warnings: fluff | Suggestive | Slight angst

3.3k words

The giggling in the room next to mine has me fighting back from hurling my guts out.

Helion was with yet another female tonight— perhaps multiple based on the sound emitting through the walls. Some part of me felt anger, everyone who was interested in the male seemed to get the chance to roll in the sheets with the High Lord while I sat in my room alone, trying to ignore the obnoxious thudding of the headboard against the connecting wall.

I put a sound shield over his room for him, he seemed to forget half the time which left me restless and annoyed.

Finally, at peace with the quiet, I release a soft sigh and my head comes down onto my pillow. The brunette that he led into his room tonight was particularly gorgeous, with long dark locks and beautiful caramel-colored skin. She was from the Summer court, cousin to the Day court. She looked like she'd been bathed in the sun, like not a single cloud had ever settled over her.

I was from the night court.

Born in the hewn city and fleeing the court entirely when Amarantha was defeated after those long years Under the Mountain.

It was noticeable I didn't belong in this court, this palace, the libraries, or the shops. I'd get looks of all sorts from strangers or other court members who thought it best for me to return to where I came from.

Helion made me his second in command after a few years of serving as his emissary. I've been with him for nearly a decade now and my feelings towards the high lord have yet to fizzle away. He's my best friend, yet I couldn't help imagining something more than just being on the sidelines, I wanted to be looked at the way he gazed at potential partners, wanted to be touched, and loved the way the females rave about as they're leaving the palace.

In between thoughts I manage to slip into a gentle sleep, a light slumber that I could easily be startled from. The large bed felt empty like I was drowning in it, like I needed someone next to me to make sure I didn't fall through the mattress.

________

I was standing at my workbench, bright light shining down onto my most recent invention. I peered through my magnifying glass at the inner mechanics, making sure all the gears shifted with each other as they spun. I've been fiddling with the small device for a while now but haven't been able to get it just right. "Let's try this again," I mumble before pressing the button atop the small cube. It makes a quiet beep and my brows shoot up. "Testing," I say into the microphone of the cube.

"You're so smart, starlight." A familiar voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the High Lord. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." He hums and I flush, taking my eyes away from the handsome male and back to my invention. He walks over to me, the warmth of his skin radiating onto me. "What is it?" He tilts his head as he peers over my shoulder.

"A recording device," I say, glancing at him— which I realize was a bad idea because, Cauldron, he was so close. "If it works, we'll be able to start recording audio to put in our libraries for people who can't read,"  I explain and a soft smile curves his full lips.

"Genius." He hums. "It's not finished yet." I wave him off and press the button atop the recording device and set it down.

"Did you need something?" I turned to him fully, he wasn't wearing his crown or any golden jewelry, just glowing dark skin contrasted with his clean white robe. "I can't pester my favorite emissary?" He arches a brow, and my heartbeat quickens.

"I'm your only emissary." I remind him, cleaning up my workspace as he toys with a pair of miniature tweezers, his calloused hands seemingly too large to even hold the tool. "That doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." He mumbles, concentrating on picking up an even smaller screw from the desk with the tweezers.

"Helion," I pluck the tool from his hands and he pouts dramatically at me. "I was only going to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner, but you seem busy." He knocks on the wood as a farewell and takes a few steps away. "Wait," I look to him. "I could eat." I shrug and a wide smile spreads over his sharp features. "Follow me then."

Helion leads me down the halls of the palace, I still marveled at the beauty of this place despite living here for nearly a decade now. The high ceilings held up by large pillars, the floor-to-ceiling windows putting the Court outside on display in a decoration of its own, the crystal clear lake that spreads on the right side of the residence reflects the moonlight right onto the white palace, making it reflect and shimmer like a sun.

"Amilia?" Helion calls as we enter the long dining hall lit by golden chandeliers and tall, skinny candles. "Yes, my lord?" A kitchen maid scuffs into the room with bright green eyes and large voluminous curls. "I have a guest joining me for dinner, we'll need the table set for three." He informs and the maid bows her head with a soft smile. "Right away Lord Helion." She turns on her heel and shuffles towards the kitchen. "Thank you!" The male hums as she disappears behind the swinging doors.

"Three plates?" I ask curiously, coming up to his side. "Not just us?" I say and he looks at me with raised brows. "I have another courtier coming to meet with me from the Dawn court, but I'd be happy to cancel so it's just us." He offers and I shake my head, hair swishing with the movement. "That's alright, I won't disrupt your schedule." I brushed him off, even if a buried part of me felt disappointed. It's been some time since I had some alone time with Helion, he always seemed to be busy as High Lord— or spell cleaver.

I walked over to the table and took up the seat I always sat in, directly beside the head of the table, where Helion planted himself. A maid came over and poured both of us glasses of white wine. I thank her and she nods before skittering away.

The doors to the dining hall open and both Helion and I look up to spot a butler accompanying a gorgeous female clad in lilac and rose-colored robes that draped over her full frame in long sweeping motions. Her deep brown hair was combed up into an intricate style, and the golden bangles at her wrists clanked against each other as she walked in like she owned the place. "Lady Basu." Helion stands with a polite tone. "Please, my lord; call me Imara." She begs of him in a delicate voice. Is she the courtier from Dawn?

"Then you can call me Helion." The Lord gives her a seductive smile. I was going to need more wine.

Dinner was utterly delicious if it weren't for my need to hold back gags every time the two in front of me obnoxiously flirted, I watched as she noticeably stared at him while wrapping her perfect lips around her fork. They weren't even discussing anything pertaining to the courts, perhaps I was blinded by jealousy but what was the point of this female being here if she wasn't going to mention where her court lies with alliances?

"Amilia?" I call the maid, neither of them notice but the female shuffles over to me with an inquisitive expression. "Can I have some more wine?" I ask her. She nods her head and pours the pitcher until my glass is full again. "You know what, I think I'll just take this." I reach for the decanter and her brows raise slightly but she allows me to have the pitcher before I put it down onto the table. Helion looks at me with creased brows but I don't say anything.

"Are you enjoying the food Imara?" The high lord hums. "I've had better things in my mouth." She teased and I nearly choked. "Is that right?" Helion's reply only makes me drink deeper from the goblet, chugging down the rest of the liquid until I'm refilling the glass again.

The flirting grows so insufferable that I have to take a deep breath to control myself from yelling at them to keep it in their pants or take it to the bedroom. So instead I stand up, grabbing my wine glass, my chair loudly scraping against the floor.

"You okay?" Helion looks to me concerned. "Fine, just tired." I brush him off. "I think I might turn in early," I add and he only nods. "Sweet dreams, starlight." He hums. "Good to meet you Imari," I give her a wave. "You as well." She smiles at me even though she's been glaring at me all meal like I was a threat, as if Helion would ever choose me over some drop-dead gorgeous female offering herself so openly to him.

Helion's fingers intertwined with mine and I look at him curiously, his warm hand somehow heating the entirety of my body right down to my very bones. "Get good rest, alright?" He smiles sadly and I get the feeling that he wasn't originally going to say that, that he’s holding back.

"I should be the one telling you that." I joke as I drop his hand but he doesn't laugh, instead, he looks at me with something tender and wanting, that gaze that makes butterflies awaken in my stomach. I ignore it, giving him a nod before spinning on my heel and walking towards the doors, thanking the cooks and maids on my way out without another word.

______

My hangover was pounding into my skull as I stood at the kitchen counter, peeling an orange as my negligent breakfast. Luckily the morning was quiet, the bird’s song flowing in through the open windows, goldfinches perched on the aspen trees outside.

I hum along to the familiar tune with a gentle smile at the tranquility of it, everything going so smoothly until the smell of ginger and honey floats into the room and I know Helion has entered.

"Starlight," He grins widely as he approaches, his hands behind his back like he's hiding something. I narrow my eyes at him skeptically, wondering what it was he kept tucked away from my vision. "How are you so awake?" I sighed with a slow blink. "It's daytime," He looks to the window. "Should I not be awake?" He arches a brow. I shake my head and return to peeling the rind from my fruit.

"Have a good night?" I tilt my head. "Eh," He shrugs and I scoff, a small smile forming on my lips at his dissatisfaction, something like precedence blooming in my chest.

"I have something for you." He bounces slightly on his heels and I look at him unamused, my migraine slowly fizzling away as he gazes at me. "Do you now?" I tilt my head and he nods, pulling his hands from behind his back and revealing a small black box meant for jewelry. "I felt bad last night, you seemed upset so I got you these at the markets this morning." He explains before cracking open the lid of the velvet box and revealing a stunning pair of earrings. A clear sunstone gem framed by gold plates, the stone dangling from a golden clasp.

My brows raised as I looked between him and the expensive gift. "Helion I can't take this," I shake my head. "Sure you can." He urges me. "You can’t just give me things because I'm the slightest bit upset." I sigh, taking the box from him. "Sure I can." He reiterates and a small smile forms over my features. "Thank you," I say, taking the earrings out of their box right then and there before sliding them into my earlobes.

He smiles and tucks my hair behind my pointed ears. The male grins cheekily and I look at him, with stained cheeks. "What?" I cross my arms over my chest. "You're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He states proudly. I chuckle and tear my gaze away from him, his expression falls. "I'm serious, you are." He nods his head and I only shake my head and continue to peel the tangerine.

"No, I am not." I toss the rind in the trash, trying to ignore the fact that the air in the room has gotten noticeably thicker. "Do you think I'd lie about such things?" He seems genuine which only makes me want to laugh more.

"You lie to me all the time." I shrug and he looks at me like I've gone crazy. "Nonsense, name a time." He commands and I roll my eyes. "Just yesterday you told me I'd make the perfect high lady for the day court." I remind and he twists his lips to the side. "That doesn't sound like me." He shakes his head. I deadpan at him before removing the small invention I've been working on from the pocket of my dress and pressing the button on the bottom.

"Testing," My voice emits from it, louder than planned and all too close to the microphone. "You're so smart starlight," another voice sounds from the speakers of the cube. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." It quoted and I glared at him before turning off the invention and putting it back into my pocket. "It works!" He says excitedly and I glare at him.

"Alright fine, so I did say that but still; I didn't lie." He argues and I huff out a grumble of curses. "I'm a truthful male." He drones as I return to picking the spongey white excess along with the fruit of my orange. "No, you're a flirt," I grumble. "Can't I be both?" He shrugs and I shake my head. "No, not if you're telling me I'm the most beautiful girl you've ever seen whilst bedding females ten times prettier than me." I defend and his jaw falls slack, slightly taken aback at my prepared remark. "But they're not prettier than you." He admits and I avoid his gaze that seemed to be analyzing every move I made.

"Stop lying." I grit out and he releases a sigh, his arms coming to either side of my waist, trapping me between his muscular frame and the counter.

"I'm not. You're out of my league." He says breathlessly as if he couldn't believe it. I turn to look at him, my brows pulled tensely. "Then why can't I be one of them?" I utter and he blinks. "One of what?" He asks, his dark brows quirking together. "One of the females you take to bed, if I'm. So beautiful then why haven't you shown it?"

The look on his face was pure shock, his ears perked up at the sound of vulnerability coming from me. I begin to grow embarrassed at what I just confessed.

"Starlight," He sighs, looking down at me with remorseful eyes. "Those partners mean nothing, there's no emotion. I'm simply admiring an art piece, there's no strings attached." He explains and I wait for him to tell me whatever art I am isn't good enough.

"I don't want that with you." He confesses and I swore my heart stopped.

I look up at him with tears welling in my eyes. I wasn't ready to confess and didn't have the confrontation skills to tell him how I truly felt. I swallow thickly and nod. "I understand," I mutter, dipping my head down. His large hand comes up to cup my cheek, tilting my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. "I want the strings attached, with you, is what I mean." He explains and I blink a few times to make sure the make that stands in front of me is real.

"What are you saying?" I need clarification, what does that make us, what can I bear to him without showing my soul in its entirety?

"I'm saying that I want you, for a lot longer than just a night." His hand slips from my cheek to curl around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking along my jaw. "Helion," I warn and his eyes are soft, this is real, he wants this as much as I do. "I know it's unprofessional but—" He begins to argue and I lunge upward, slinging my arms over his shoulders and planting my lips onto his.

He stumbles back, his other hand coming to my hips as he immediately kisses me back. I smile against the feel of it. Gods, he tasted like honey. I pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as I balance on my toes just so I can reach up to him. He hums against my lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I admit and his eyes gleam with pure affection.

"I have some idea." He reassured me before dipping down again and this time taking my mouth entirely, my lower back pressed against the counter behind me, his hands dipped down, sliding along every inch of my body until finding purchase at my thighs and hoisting me up onto the counter, my legs immediately wrapping around his torso as he pried my mouth open with his tongue and I allow him to explore every inch, I've dreamed of this, fantasized of this. Every male I've ever been with never amounted to what could've been with Helion, and now I have it and I was never going to give it up.

My hands go into his hair, dragging through the black locks as he presses his wanting hips into mine. I begin to work at the top of his robes, dipping it off his shoulder. He backs away with a restrained movement. "We can wait." He pants out. "We can go slow," he reassured, staring at me with every ounce of self-discipline he possessed. "I don't want to wait," I shake my head. "I need you now," I add and a smile curves his lips— then a soft gasp releases from his lips, looking at the center of my chest with creased brows.

A sudden sort of devotion overwhelms my body and I look down, spotting a golden string, sprouting from my abdomen and tethering directly to his. "Mate," I mumble, the only thought racing through my head. My body heats at the realization and when he pulls me into a kiss this time it's pure adoration, in every movement he holds utmost love and respect.

"You're my mate," I mumble into his mouth and he nods with a smirk on his lips. "Wait—" I say and he immediately rears back. I turn to look beside me, the freshly peeled orange untouched on its plate. I pick the fruit up and split it into two. "Eat." I hold the tangerine out toward him. His expression turns into something tender and he takes the fruit, taking no time to consume the citrusy fruit, handing me the other half and beckoning me to eat too. I smile and peel one slice off and pop it into my mouth.

A sudden smell of arousal takes over the space and as soon as I swallow down the slice his lips are on mine, his hands pulling me closer, kissing me deeper, harder. He tasted of citrus and that fact fueled every nerve in my body. Mates, we're mated. His tongue enters my mouth again and the mating frenzy seems to take him full throttle. He winnows us into his quarters, carrying me towards his bed.

Something told me we wouldn't be leaving this bedroom for weeks.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx

[sycamorelibrary754]

Come Home To Me

Summary: After returning home to the Avengers Compound from separate solo missions, Wanda learns the meaning behind one of your tattoos is more than what it seems.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Avenger!Reader.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: None

A/N: Behold, my first attempt at writing a fic. I'm pleased with the end result, so I'm being brave & posting it. Shoutout to @yelenasdiary for encouraging me to give it a go. 💜

The soft glow of morning light gently filtered through the window of Wanda's bedroom, casting a warm and serene ambiance as we cozied beneath the covers. You mentally thanked Tony for his thoughtfulness in installing blackout curtains. Wanda's crimson magic gracefully wove around the fabric, embracing the room in a comforting cloak of darkness.

You had both returned from solo no-contact missions the night before. Usually, you did your best to keep in touch when both of you were on separate missions, even if it was only an emoji to let the other know that you were there. Without that contact, you both felt like ships lost at sea with nothing to anchor you. 

Wanda was the first to arrive home. After her debriefing with Fury, she was determined to stay awake for your impending arrival. 

As Natasha strolled by Wanda on her way to her room, she shot her a sly grin. "No training tomorrow," she announced, without breaking her stride or waiting for a response.

Wanda spun around, facing the Black Widow as she strode purposefully past her toward the compound kitchen. "Why?

Nat didn't even bother turning around as she called out in response, "You know why."

Upon returning to her room after a long day, Wanda slipped into her soft, lavender-colored pajamas. She picked up the remote and turned on her well-loved episode of the Dick Van Dyke show. It was the one where Laura gets locked in the bank vault, a scene she had watched countless times before, but it never failed to bring her comfort. The familiar jokes and the warmth of the characters made her feel like she was in the company of old friends, a feeling she cherished, especially when she was on her own.

An hour passed before the Quinjet gently descended onto the compound's grounds. With exhaustion weighing heavily on me, I navigated my way to the debriefing, then to the Med Bay, where I received a few minor stitches on my leg, and finally to my room for a quick shower. When I finally reached Wanda's room, the only sound that greeted me as I slowly pushed open the door was the familiar laugh track of her favorite show emanating from the television. The glow from the screencast a soft illumination over Wanda's sleeping form nestled under the covers. I carefully made my way to my side of the bed and quietly curled up next to her. Her eyes slowly opened as she stirred to reveal my exhausted yet affectionate smile.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you greeted warmly.

"Welcome home," Wanda whispered, her voice filled with warmth and relief.

"Right back at you," you murmured, tenderly tracing your hand along her cheek.

After such a long time without her touch, you had almost forgotten the feeling of not sleeping alone. When you finally came together for a gentle kiss, it felt like time stood still. It wasn't out of desperation but a deep contentment as you finally felt complete again.

"Come on, my love, it's time to return to dreamland. It's way past our bedtime," you whispered as you switched off the TV and snuggled under the covers together.

"We have the day off tomorrow," Wanda softly mumbled, her Sokovian accent adding a touch of warmth to her weary voice. As you found solace in her embrace, the day's weariness faded, and you drifted off to sleep, your hands and hearts intertwined.

*^~^*

As you lie in bed, Wanda traces the intricate outlines of the tattoos that adorn your right arm. They deeply fascinate her as they tell a story she's eager to unravel.

"What's the significance of the owl?" she asked, piercing the heavy silence.

"What?" Your gaze shifts to meet her captivating green eyes.

“The owl tattoo on your forearm.” Wanda reiterated.

“In Ancient Greece, the owl was considered the companion of Athena, the goddess of wisdom. It was believed to symbolize protection, and if an owl flew over Greek soldiers before a battle, they took it as a sign of impending victory,” you explained. “Fascinating, right?”

As you glance down at the tattoo on your arm, Wanda nods in understanding while you gently trace your fingers over the intricate ink design.

There's another reason," you whisper so softly that Wanda almost misses it. "When I'm on a mission without you, it reminds me that I'll always find my way back to you. No matter where I am, I'll be victorious and come home to you.

Wanda gently reaches out and takes your face in her hands, her fingers tracing a soothing path across your skin. A warm, comforting sensation follows in the wake of her touch as if her magic is trailing around your head, easing the inner turmoil of your mind. As her eyes meet yours, they exude a gentle reassurance that says, "It's okay, you can trust me." At that moment, she can hear the unspoken questions in your mind, doubting about sharing so much.

“I love you with all my heart,” Wanda declared. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

"I love you too," you respond with a smile.

After a few weeks, Wanda geared up for a crucial mission alongside Nat and Bucky. They aimed to infiltrate a clandestine Hydra facility, conducting experimental activities related to new technology. While Wanda had encountered similar technologies in the past, the prospect of facing it again was unsettling, evoking vivid memories of her time in Hydra facilities with Pietro. As the team pressed on, the only sound that penetrated Wanda's thoughts was Nat's announcement that they were nearing their target and Bucky sharing another anecdote from his 1940s escapades in Brooklyn with Steve.

Missing you, Wanda absentmindedly reaches into the front pocket of her suit and feels the creases of a folded-up note against her fingertips. Removing it slowly, she recognizes your chicken scratch handwriting that you despise but that she finds adorable. 

Come home to me, Wanda. 

Forever my love,

Y/N

As Wanda opened the small black box, she was met with the sight of an exquisitely ornate silver owl ring nestled inside. With a hint of edginess and an air of elegance, she discreetly slid the ring onto her right finger. It glided into place effortlessly, almost as if it had been waiting for her all along. That spot became its permanent home from that moment onward, unwavering through any mission or circumstance. While you had your owl, she had hers.

The rest of the team might see it as just a piece of jewelry, but Nat always catches Wanda stealing glances at the ring during briefings, especially when you're not around. And Yelena still can't figure out why she couldn't borrow it for a date night with Kate. To your enchanting witch, it's not just a ring. It's a constant reminder of your love—a silent vow to find your way back to each other's arms.

[natsgrave]

TOLERATE IT | elizabeth olsen

while you were out building other worlds, where was i? you assume i'm fine, but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins? ( story inspired by @taylorswift song bcs i love her sm ) i'm not sure if someone else already wrote something like this or what, but if you see a story quite similar to this, let me know so i could give them a proper credit. thankyou!! ( colored wording would be the lyrics ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime!! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV Lizzie and I had been together for five years. We met in college, fell deeply in love, and spent countless nights talking about our dreams and aspirations. We were each other's rock, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But how can a perfect relationship turn into a toxic one where we barely talk anymore?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low

I don't know what happened. I don't know how to fix it, it that I didn't even know exist. One second we were fine then the next, we're like strangers.

All I could do is sit here and watch her read the script for her new movie. Reading with her head low and sitting far away from me, almost as if I have a disease. As if there's an invisible wall between us.

We would always sit in silence, her pretending to watch TV or read books, but the tension between us was palpable. I know she could feel my eyes on her, but she never spared me a glance. It was as if she was avoiding me intentionally.

Minutes ticked by, and I decided to make her food. After making anchovy, I gently touch her on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and looked up to find me standing next to her, holding out a plate.

"I made you your favorite," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Anchovy toast."

Lizzie took the plate from my hand, "Thank you." she replied before looking back at the script once again.

I simply nodded and sat down where I originally sitting, and focused on my own hands folded in my lap with a sigh.

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes close. I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do, you're so much older and wiser

I woke up around five in the morning, the sun hadn't completely risen yet, but the little lighting shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. My gaze fell upon my girlfriend, who lay beside me sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring me comfort.

As I lay in bed, I couldn't help but watch my partner, Lizzie, sleeping peacefully beside me. I stayed there, watching her for a moment and appreciate the sight before me. But despite the serenity of the scene, I still felt a pang of sadness in my heart.

Lizzie had always been a restless sleeper, constantly shifting positions throughout the night and sometimes even talking in her sleep. But tonight, she was lying completely still, her face calm and relaxed. If someone saw it, they would instantly let it go and think that she's in a deep slumber but I'm not just someone.

I know the truth.

She was pretending to be asleep and it felt like she didn't want to wake up beside me, like she is simply tolerating my presence.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid, use my best colors for your portrait

They were small things I did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. Always wait by the door every day to greet her, to offer and show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work. I would always stand there, gazing out into the evening sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of my lover making her way home from work. It didn't matter what time it was, or how tired I am after a long day, I always made sure to be there, waiting for Lizzie.

I even took painting classes as it seemed to ease my mind. I poured all of my emotions into my painting, using every color in the palette to capture the beauty of Lizzie's face. I spent hours each day working on the portrait, trying to convey the depth of my feelings for her and I'd use my best colors for her portraits.

Lay the table with the fancy shit, and watch you tolerate it

I had always been a perfectionist when it comes to cooking and entertaining. I would always spent hours in the kitchen, preparing elaborate meals and setting beautiful tables for my lover. I would carefully select the finest ingredients, meticulously prepare each dish, and arrange the table with exquisite linens, flowers, and candles.

I'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with best cutlery and yet again, no matter how hard I tried, she never seemed to appreciate my efforts. All Lizzie gave back were strained smiles, small and almost whispered hums, and nods in acknowledgment of my attempts, and a whisper of "thanks," as she shoveled the food into her mouth, barely taking the time to taste or savor any of it.

she seemed to simply… tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now, tell me I've got it wrong somehow

Despite my best efforts to communicate openly and honestly with Lizzie, I felt like she wasn't really listening to me, and it made me feel invisible. I began to wonder if I was overthinking everything, if maybe I was the one who was misinterpreting our interactions. Maybe I was being too sensitive, too needy.

Maybe I was the one who was crazy, paranoid.

I felt so alone, so lost, and so unsure of what to do.

I know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

I began to feel like I was living in a dream world where everything I created was invisible to everyone else. It was as if I was speaking a language that nobody understood, except for my own echoes in mind.

"Liz," I said with a trembling voice, "I've been giving everything I have to make you happy, but it feels like you don't see or appreciate it anymore. I feel taken for granted."

My choice of words caught her off guard, she paused for a moment before responding. "Y/N, I never asked you to do all these things for me. I don't need grand gestures to feel loved, I thought you knew that."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this really what our relationship had become? A constant stream of argument and neglect?

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized the disconnect between our expectations. I had been trying so hard to show her love in a way that I thought she would appreciate, but it had only pushed us further apart.

And it happen, I finally snapped.

I felt a surge of anger and frustration well up inside of me.

Why was I putting so much effort into something that seemed to bring her no joy? Why did I care so deeply about pleasing someone who didn't seem to care about me at all?

I knew, I couldn't keep living this way, constantly pouring my heart and soul into something that brought me nothing but pain and disappointment. I realized that no matter how much I gave, Lizzie would never truly reciprocate and still, I constantly yearn for someone who clearly did not want me.

With a heavy heart, I packed my bags. Our relationship had become toxic, with me constantly sacrificing myself for someone who didn't appreciate me. I knew it was time to leave, before I lost any more pieces of myself.

Before leaving, I took a one last look, the last thing I want to remember was the way Elizabeth used to laugh at my jokes, enjoy our food, take me out on dates. The last thing I want to remember was how she used to love my presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

[fuselsstuff]

Its the season, baby.

“So, not like that." Tommy chuckles and puts his coffee down on the little table. It’s a sunny day in California, and he and Evan are both having a day off. They started the morning in Tommy's favorite little bakery, just down the street from his house. “Coffee should be coffee, Evan, not sugar with coffee flavor.”

“It's an Americano with like a pump of vanilla and a pinch of sugar; I thought we could spice up your coffee order just a little,” Buck grins. “And maybe I was too embarrassed to order a regular dark roast drip for you,” he almost whispers the last part as if he were actually embarrassed.

“What can I say? I like my men sweet and my coffee dark, Evan.” Tommy smiles and takes a sip from his coffee-flavored drink anyway, watching his partner blush over the brim of his cup.

“You’re lucky, your words are sweeter than your taste,” Buck returned softly, not able to hide his smile.

Several weeks later, beginning of October

Tommy loved mornings with Evan; he grew quite fond of their bakery time when Evan spent the night at his house or the times when he picked up his partner from Crew breakfast after the 118s shift. Most times he even stayed for a coffee and Bobby's pancakes. There was just something about the feeling of starting the day together, either just the two of them or with family and friends, that made Tommy feel relaxed and excited at the same time. Relaxed because of the comfort it brought to him and excited for the day to come.

Today though, Evan was out early with Eddie; they were searching for a birthday present for Chris. So Tommy was on his own after Eddie picked Evan up; he decided it was a good day to check out the new coffeeshop near the Loft. It's called the wired monk, a little place wedged between two giant buildings, with colorful windows and trivia nights on Wednesdays.

So here he is, on the patio, enjoying his coffee, reading the newspaper the place provided, and letting the fall sun shine on his head. And yes, he should have known this would happen, but still, he is caught off guard when a shadow falls on his paper, and he looks up to see the sheepish, grinning face of his partner towering over him.

"Well, well, well, if that isn’t a frothy, sugary, creamy coffee, I see, or should I say coffee-flavored drink?

“Its..uhm..its pumkin spice season, Evan.”

“I just don’t understand; you gave me shit for my coffee orders for months, and now you’re here, drinking the most basic drink of all time, and your excuse is, its pumkin spice season?”

To both of their surprise, it's Eddie who breaks the banter between the two as he walks around the corner, starring down on his phone. “Yo Buck, the shop doesn’t open for another hour; you want to get a coffee before..." he looks up. "Oh, hey, Tommy, is this a PSL? Oh myy, finally it’s the season again. Buck, find us some chairs. I get us the good stuff.

@theheadfangirl and her frothy, sugary coffees, i love you friend;D

[vaulthistorian]

With You Nearby.

Summary: Spending a nice evening by the fire with Joshua, and things get a little out of hand.

CW: Really none, readers gender/identity is not specified. No NSFW, but alluded to.

~~~

The stars in the sky reminded you of the path you were on. The glimmering light that freckled the dark blanket of the vast expanse beyond made you feel less alone on these colder nights. The Mojave rarely got cold, but the odd times you'd hit a dead zone in radiation the temperature would drop.

You were glad for your cloak and armor, it weighed you down and added some warmth to your body.

Of course you'd not come alone, as was evident by the shuffling on the rock across from you. But oftentimes the warmth of another couldn't stop you from feeling singled out by the horrors of the world that persist to taunt you. They exist for no other reason than to cause you pain.

"Falling asleep on me?" The near baritone voice of your favorite Mormon survivalist. His tone was scratchy, the lack of water from Zion left him quieter than usual, as he had less strength to cast his voice.

You tilted your head, catching him in your view as you lay on the cool rock ground, a hint of a smile gracing your lips.

"Thinking."

He hummed in response, gripping two stones between his hands and striking them together. The crashing rocks sending sparks toward a small pile of sticks and grass that you'd accumulated over the course of your journey.

He exhaled shortly when the sparks caught on some dried patches of grass, little flickers of warmth rising up from the heart and catching on.

"We'll be warm tonight." He said as he sat, his eyes looking across the fire at you. In the darkness you couldn't see his eye color, on the flames that rose and danced within the snare of his intense gaze.

Although you still liked to think of the sea blue gaze that you'd catch along the dusty roads back to a place you'd dared to call home.

Joshua was alright to follow you, he didn't protest when you brought him from Zion, and when you saw to it that his people made a sayve journey back to their refuge. Then he decided he'd follow, wherever you led he would not hesitate. Not like he used to. He was no coward.

"Get closer." Joshua broke the silence again when he noticed your shivers in the warm glow the fire cast over the pale light.

You couldn't help thinking if he meant for you to get closer to the fire or him. In any sense, he meant the fire.

You shuffled a bit closer, bringing your feet toward the lapping flames and they selflessly warmed your flesh.

"It should only be a little longer, then we can get off our feet and rest in proper beds." You said to Joshua, your hands locking around your knees in a curled position.

"As long as we make pace." Joshua relaxed with the fire going, taking out his bible from the rucksack he'd come to carry for you. Despite it having gone through a lot, it held on, allowing Joshua to hold the leather in his hands once more.

He was peaceful when he read, the atmosphere was not too tough, but not too loose. You were content with him.

The sounds of critters rummaging in the night had you shifting, crawling to the right of Joshua, the other side of the rucksack. His gaze flicked from his book to you as you drew closer. He didn't say anything, but opened an arm invitingly so that you may come closer.

"What are you reading?" You asked him softly. You didn't always care, and yet you knew he enjoyed sharing from time to time.

"Job 1:20 forward." He replied simply, feeling you press into his side, your body seeking out his warmth. Joshua wrapped his arm around your shoulder, keeping his hand curled loosely so it did not touch you.

"Would you like me to read it to you?" He asked softly, tilting his head a bit and showing you the passage.

You shuffled and brought your hand to his chest. "Mm, no thanks, I'd rather just watch you." You teased, your finger lightly guiding his head toward you.

"Oh, would you? Don't want a late night bible story?" He asked back as your fingers came up to his jaw, running the pad of your thumb over the warm bandages.

"You could... Say some other things to me, but I don't know if the bible is the right thing." You teased and stroked his chin, and he discarded the book gently down onto the Mojave dune. His arms wrapped around you, dipping you down against the ground and leaning against your ear.

"You know how I'd love to do that..." He pressed his mouth right beside your ear, situating himself between your hips.

You situated yourself and pulled your duster off, teasing your fingers under his vest, against his bandages. "Who else is gonna sleep with you out here? I'm sure the big man upstairs wouldn't mind." You teased, feeling his hands drag you a smidge closer to his hips.

Joshua bristled with a sense of excitement, and he willed himself to believe you were right. He kissed your cheek, then your mouth, and brought your hips into his lap to undo your belt.

"Let's hope you're right..."

[earthchica]

ungodly hour / three

joel miller x black! reader

summary: you are living with joel again, and you both get to see the baby for the first time.

warning: fluff, slight angst, pregnancy, ultrasound, jealousy & possessiveness, age gap, language, nicknames.

__ series masterlist

You groaned into your pillow while attempting to shield your eyes from the sunlight seeping through the blinds.

Shifting to the other side of the bed, you glanced at your watch to check the time. 

It was 7:00 am.

Slowly rising and rubbing your eyes, you adjusted to the surroundings, realizing you were back living with Joel.

Joel suggested you move back in, and you agreed to stay only until the baby was born. 

The experience has been awkward but manageable, with both of you skirting around the unspoken tension.

With a dramatic sigh, you rolled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom to kickstart your morning routine.

You let your long, thick locs down from the bun you had it, and you ran your fingers through each one.

You then got dressed into an oversized brown button-up shirt and paired it with some well-loved low-cut jeans, and my brown boots.

You headed downstairs to grab your keys and saw a little note from Joel.

You were a little disappointed that he didn't wait for you to go to the dining hall but you two used to do that when you were a couple.

You guessed he didn't want to make you feel weird or whatever. With a sigh, you grabbed your keys and jacket before heading out.

Once you were inside the dining hall, you immediately got yourself some breakfast.

You spotted Joel in a denim button-up shirt paired with his favorite worn-out jeans and boots, sipping on coffee and engrossed in a book.

"Good Morning, Joel," You greeted him warmly, and he looked up with a glint in his eyes, returning the smile.

"Morning, darling. Sorry...I don't wait for you, I had to do something for someone" Joel said, and you nodded, sitting down at the table with him.

"It's okay...no need to apologize." You said with a small smile before eating.

You both enjoyed your breakfast together in a comfortable silence until finished.

"Oh, damn...almost forgot to tell you I have a check-up with Charles today. So after our duties, do you want to tag along?" You asked.

Joel nodded with excitement in his eyes, getting up from the table which surprised you.

"Of course, we'll head over there after. Is that okay?" He asked and you nodded, grabbing your jacket before leaving with him.

Upon arriving at the greenhouse, you devoted your time to cultivating vegetables, fruits, and various plants.

You found great joy in this work, as it served as a therapeutic retreat from the stresses of life.

The vibrant colors of the fruits and the fresh scent of herbs always lift your spirits.

You looked up from where you were standing and smiled at Cameron.

He was a guy who also worked in the greenhouse, he was always sweet and thoughtful.

Cameron busied himself by watering the plants and checking the soil, his enthusiasm contagious.

You were about to head out to meet Joel but you paused as Cameron rushed up, and called your name.

"Hey, before you go could you help me with something real quick?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"Sure, what do you need?" You replied, walking over to him. He pointed to a row of potted herbs that seemed to be struggling.

"I can't figure out what's wrong with these. I've tried adjusting the watering schedule and checked for pests, but they still look wilted."

You examined the plants closely, your mind running through possible causes.

"Let's check the roots," You suggested. "Sometimes, the problem lies beneath the surface."

Together, you both carefully lifted one of the plants from its pot, revealing a tangled mess of roots that had outgrown their container.

"Ah, root-bound," You said, nodding. "They need more space to grow. You should report them in larger containers."

Cameron grinned appreciatively. "Thanks! I knew you'd have the solution. So um, I was wondering if you weren't bus-" His words were interrupted by Joel.

"Don't you even fucking try it," Joel remarked, stepping inside with a determined expression that caused you to roll your eyes.

"Oh, Joel. Hey, man" Cameron stuttered nervously.

"Whatever you were about to ask her, it's not happening." He says, placing his hand on the lower of your back.

"Joel?" You interjected, glancing at him with annoyance.

"Well, I apologize, but rumor has it that you two broke up. Is that incorrect?"

There was a moment of silence before you addressed the situation.

"Yes, that's true, but Joel and I are sorting things out.-" Then Joel barged in with some words that were better left unspoken.

"Yeah, and she's carrying my kid. So there's no way you stand a chance with her," Joel disclosed, prompting Cameron to widen his eyes as he glanced at your growing baby bump.

"Oh, uh, okay. Best of luck to both of you then," he muttered, walking away with an air of resignation.

Joel couldn't hide his amusement as he observed Cameron retreating to tend to the plants. He then turned to you, noticing your annoyance.

"What the hell was that?" You asked as soon as you both left the greenhouse, hands on your hips, expecting an explanation.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Joel responded, walking off, and you followed him to the clinic.

"Oh, Joel, you know what the hell I'm talking about. You have no right to act like a fucking jealous asshole" You commented while watching him stop in front of the clinic doors.

"I know and I'm sorry, darling." He said with a sigh. You shook your head as you both stood there in silence.

"Did you really mean what you said...about us sorting things out?" he asked, shifting the conversation while running his hand through his hair.

"I don't know Joel," You said, heading into the clinic, and you took a seat, anticipating your name being called.

Joel came in shortly after and took a seat beside you, giving you a perplexing look that you couldn't quite decipher.

You rolled your eyes and decided to flip through an old magazine on the nearby side table.

A few minutes went by...

"What the hell is taking so long?" Joel nervously inquired, tapping his leg and checking his broken watch repeatedly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anxious behavior. It is kind of weird and sweet seeing him like this.

"Joel, are you okay?" You asked, glancing at him and he briefly looked at you before focusing ahead.

"Yup...I'm fine, why do you ask?" Joel replied, still fidgeting with his leg.

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's because you keep shaking your leg like you're in a hurry to use the restroom or something!"

Joel attempted to stop but to no avail which made you giggle a little.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit nervous," he admitted, offering a shy smile. You reassured him by holding his hand tightly.

"Everything will be fine, Joel. Just relax!" You comforted him, and his leg gradually ceased its movements, bringing smiles to both of you.

__

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of the machine filling the silence.

You lay down on the examination table with Joel standing beside you, offering a reassuring smile.

You felt a flutter of butterflies in your chest when he did that. Charles walked in with a relaxed demeanor.

"Hey, you two," he greeted you and Joel with warmth, and you both returned the gesture.

"Are you both ready to see your little one?" he inquired, and you nodded in response.

"Alright" He smiled and applied the cool gel to your belly, causing you to shiver slightly from the sensation.

As he moved the transducer across your skin, the screen flickered to life.

You both stared in anticipation, breaths held, until finally, the image became clear.

There, amidst the grainy black and white, was a tiny, pulsing heart.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached for Joel's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Wow!" He exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen. You looked up at Joel and noticed tears streaming down his face.

"That's our baby?" he asked and you nodded. "Yes, that's our baby,"

"The baby is healthy. I recommend you continue doing what you’re doing. Other than that, I’ll see you both at your next check-up," Charles said as he rose from his chair.

"Thank you," Joel and I responded in unison, shaking his hand. Before he exited the room, he handed me a picture of the ultrasound.

You smiled down at it, unaware that Joel was standing right beside you.

"I can't wait to meet her or him," Joel said, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the side of your forehead.

He seemed oblivious to his actions until you cleared your throat and looked up at him pointedly.

"Oh, sorry. Um, uh, let’s go home," he stammered, hurrying out of the room.

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You couldn't believe he still had that effect on you.

"Yeah," You nodded, even though he had already exited. You had to get yourself together before leaving the ultrasound room.

tags

@orcasoul

@joeldjarin

[five-and-dimes]

Sunflower

This is a continuation of Mountain Sound and will make fare more sense if you read that first.

For Dreamling Week Day 3: Painting

Read on AO3

Dream takes his time planning his gift for Hob. As outcasts amongst werewolves and vampires alike, all they had was each other. Almost every day was spent side by side, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. However, it made surprises difficult.

But this is something Dream has wanted to do for Hob for so long, and their transition deeper into the mountains provides the perfect opportunity to hide things in the shuffle. Despite the unfortunate circumstances of their move, there is something fun about it as well. A break in the routine they had fallen into for the past decade or so. They spend a few weeks hiking and exploring, searching for a spot that would suit them. Traversing caverns and rocky outposts and hollow trees. It had been Hob’s idea to combine multiple spots.

“Why limit ourselves to a single building?” he had explained excitedly, gesturing at the forest around them, “We can have it all! Build a shelter among the trees and use the caves for the colder months, build a treehouse, maybe dig a burrow for storage!” On and on he’d spoken, everywhere he turned he saw a place they could make a home, a place they could take up space for the life they wanted. Dream simply listened fondly, and vowed to give Hob everything he could possibly want. 

With the decision made, they began gathering supplies, which gave Dream a chance to sneak away the things he needed for his gift. Hob would not find it unusual for Dream to purchase paints from the nearest town, being the avid painter that he was, but the sheer amount he needed would be suspicious. So he buys the colors he will need in multiple trips, hiding them amongst the tools and linens and lanterns that they needed. He takes advantage of Hob’s own idea and shifts into a wolf to dig a deep burrow in the forest, stashing the piles of paint where Hob would not find them. 

It takes nearly a year for them to fully settle once more. They finally bid their previous home farewell and move deeper into the mountains to hide from the world as best they can. They had built a new house beside a rocky outpost, nestled between tree and stone. A nearby cave is filled with various supplies, a place to keep cool in the height of summer and keep warm in the depths of winter. Hob even keeps his word and builds a small treehouse. There are no windows, keeping the sunlight out for Hob’s safety, but the walls are thin enough that in the daytime the sounds of songbirds can be heard easily.

Ironically, they spend the first night after completing their move outside. Dream and Hob run through the landscape that is their new home, Dream even shifting to tackle Hob to the ground, too lost in their shared joy to feel insecure about his wolf form. Leaves kicked up around them as they wrestled playfully, laughter and happy yips echoing through the night. They only return to settle in to sleep inside the house when the sky begins to lighten. In the doorway, Hob looks over his shoulder, a sad smile on his face that Dream is familiar with as he takes one last moment to watch the sky brighten with the light of a sun he can no longer see.

On the very first night they meant, he had told Dream that it was the only thing he hated about being a vampire. That he could never again stand in the sun.

Now, years later, Dream has a plan.

About a month after the move, Hob expressed wanting to go into town. One of the drawbacks to their new location was being farther from the nearest human encampment, but it was unfortunately necessary to increase their safety. 

“I didn’t realize how beat up our tools got from all the building,” he sighed, nearly pouting, “I mean, they’re still fine for fixing things around the house I guess, but I was hoping to do some decorating.” One of Hob’s favorite hobbies was woodcarving, engraving intricate patterns into their door frames and bedposts, or making small figurines to adorn their shelves. Dream could see how the dents and chips in his tools would make it more difficult to carve the details he was so fond of. 

“Plus, I wouldn’t mind snooping a bit more to see if I can’t find some new books on protection spells,” he added. Their new dwellings had a few protection charms, but it was difficult to find enchantments that would keep out other werewolves and vampires without harming the werewolf and vampire that lived there. “Would you like to come with me?” he asked.

“Hmm,” Dream moved nonchalantly, winding his arms around Hob’s neck as he admitted, “I would not mind some time to myself. If. That would not offend you.”

“Never,” Hob responded immediately, with a genuine smile, “I know you. And I love you.”

“Forgive me if that still startles me,” Dream tries to sound joking, but the honesty bleeds through.

Hob doesn’t mind. “Nothing to forgive,” he promises, giving him a light kiss on the lips. “Might be about a week, with the new travel time. That alright?”

Perfect. That would give him plenty of time. 

“Of course,” he responds lightly, concealing his excitement.

The next evening, after a kiss goodbye, Hob speeds off down the mountain and, as soon as his figure disappears from sight, Dream heads inside to get to work. He has time, but that doesn’t mean he can dally. 

He starts by moving the furniture out of their bedroom. There’s not too much in there to begin with, so the process doesn’t take long. The wardrobe and chest they use for storage are moved into a side room that had been ambiguously assigned the title of ‘study’, which was used more as a catchall for their various hobbies and interests they had accumulated over the years. Once the room is empty, Dream gets started laying plaster over the nooks and crannies of the wood paneled walls, running a wide blade over it meticulously until the walls are smooth and even. 

It takes a day for the plaster to dry, and Dream spends that time fetching his paints and mixing them carefully. He sits cross-legged in the middle of the room, occasionally stepping outside to hold his brush up to the sky, comparing the colors and adjusting until they are as perfect as he can make them. 

By the third day he is already nervous. Logically he knows he has plenty of time, but what if Hob comes home early? What if it takes too long to dry? What if the colors look wrong once they are dry and he has to start over? He forgoes sleep and food in favor of painting, coating the walls as quickly as he can without sacrificing the smoothness of the gradient. 

The fifth day, he has moved on to a smaller brush, the background dry enough for him to add details on top of it, shadows and highlights, feathery strokes of white, perfect circles glowing against the waves of color. Dream stands on two chests stacked on top of each other to carefully put the finishing touches on the ceiling.

On the sixth day, it is done. Everything should be dry by tomorrow, when Hob is due to return, and he’s set up the room exactly as he wants. With nothing left to do, Dream shifts, curls up in the very center of the room with his nose tucked under his tail, and worries some more.

What if Hob didn’t like it? What if it upset him? What if he was mad that Dream transformed a whole room in their new home without consulting him? What if he laughed at Dream for being so stupid, for thinking this could possibly be enough in return for all that Hob has given him?

They do not have an anniversary, per say. Even when they have kept calendars, neither felt the need to try to trace back exactly when they met, or exactly when they got together. But every year, when the leaves are just starting to turn like they had on the day they collided together, Hob will pluck a vibrant leaf from the ground and smile.

“Ah,” he will say, a warm smile on his face, “Another year together.” And then he will kiss Dream gently and hold his hand, and Dream will be reminded just how lucky he is. 

He doesn’t know how he could ever express all the love he feels for Hob. The gratitude and the joy and the peace he’s found with him. But he wants to try. He hopes Hob will see that he is trying.

When Dream hears Hob approaching in the distance late the next night he has to immediately return to his human form, because Hob is incessant in his teasing whenever he sees Dream’s tail wag without his permission. Regardless, he can tell by Hob’s face that Dream’s joy at his return is obvious. Despite both of them having spent so much time alone- despite Dream still needing occasional solitude- neither could bear to be apart for long. So while a week may not be long to some, they still run to each other as soon as they are in sight. Their bodies collide, and they take a long moment to simply embrace before they manage to pull back enough to kiss. 

“Welcome home, beloved,” Dream whispered against Hob’s lips.

“Good to be back,” Hob grinned. Once they disentangle themselves, Hob picks up the bags he had dropped in his enthusiasm, “Got a good haul this time. Better tools for repairs, and also splurged on some specialty tools for myself,” he grinned apologetically, but Dream only smiled.

“I think you deserve high quality materials for your craft,” he insisted. Privately, he also felt it only fair considering the amount of paints Dream himself had ‘splurged’ on.

Hob gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll be sure to make you something nice.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, as though he knew a secret Dream didn’t. But before Dream could question him, he continued, “I also found a couple of interesting tomes. Not sure if they’ll be any use to us, but I figured it was still worth going through together. You always had a better grasp of all that magic nonsense.” 

“Hm, we’ll see what we can find,” Dream agreed, reaching out to take one of Hob’s bags as they made their way inside. As they deposit Hob’s things in the common area, Dream inhales deeply, filled with anxiety. He opens his mouth, but pauses. Should he wait? Should he let Hob unwind first before springing this on him? Was it too sudden? He had spent so much time worrying about it not being enough, but maybe it was too much and Hob would be annoyed, especially after his long journey-

“Hey.” 

Dream nearly jumped, Hob’s voice breaking through his thoughts. Hob smiled gently, “You alright, love? You seem tense.”

Swallowing, Dream steeled himself before blurting out, “I have a gift for you.”

Hob blinked in surprise before breaking into a grin, “A gift? Really?” He had a look of excitement on his face like a child, even as he stated, “You didn’t have to get me anything!”

“I know,” Dream smiled, “I wanted to.” Reaching out, he laced their fingers together, pulling Hob towards the bedroom. Outside the door, Dream released his hand, nudging his back to push him forward. Hob raised an eyebrow, but then turned to open the door.

The first wall Hob sees when he walks in nearly makes him flinch. The painted sky in front of him is so detailed and meticulous, he had felt as though he had somehow stepped outside into a sun he sometimes fears he has forgotten. The entire wall is a deep blue, a few wispy clouds breaking up the wall of color, but doing nothing to obscure the bright, pale sun in the center.. 

For a long, long moment, all Hob can do is stare. When he finally begins to turn to look at Dream, his breath hitches as he sees the next wall to his left. This one is more vibrant and colorful, the blue of the previous wall bleeding over before darkening. The sun on this wall is lower, mid morning or early evening perhaps. 

He knows he is crying, but he doesn’t care, whipping around to see the wall behind him. This one also starts with the blue of the afternoon wall, but the gradient is more dramatic. Blue to purple to vibrant reds and oranges, clouds catching every color along their edges. The sun is a darker yellow, a half circle at the base of the floorboards. Sunset. Or, he supposes, sunrise. 

When he finally turns to look back at Dream, he sees blues and reds and purples connecting the walls, the sun painted on the back of the door, not a complete circle, but higher than the previous. Hob feels like a child as he finds himself spinning in place, seeing the way all four walls are connected, a perfect gradient of daytimes. He’s still crying, but he’s so happy, and it is in a moment of glee that he tips his head back and sees one more sun.

Directly above him, pale blue and a sun nearly white with its brightness, only the faintest yellow glow around it. An iron ring holding a circle of candles has been painted white and hangs from the ceiling in the center of the sun, illuminating it even more. High noon on a summer day.

Hob is surrounded by all the daytimes he has missed for so long. 

He allows himself a moment to glance at the rest of the room. There is a pile of pillows and furs in the center, and a tray on the floor with a vase of flowers, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. There are a few lanterns carefully placed around the room to keep it lit as brightly as possible, but the rest of the room is empty, no furniture to obscure the paintings of the sky. By the time he finally turns to face Dream again, he feels like he might combust from love and happiness.

Which makes it all the more ridiculous that Dream looks nervous, wringing his hands in front of him and chewing on his lip.

“I know you miss the sunshine,” he says softly, “and… and I know this isn’t the same, I know it doesn’t truly make up for it, but, but I thought, maybe-”

Dream’s supernatural strength is the only thing that keeps them standing when Hob crashes into him, hands framing his face to kiss him fiercely. Dream wraps his arms around his shoulder, smiling shyly into the kiss, and Hob only pulls away because of the laughter bubbling in his chest. He giggles, so overwhelmed with joy.

“No sun could compare to the light you bring to my life,” he whispers against Dream’s lips, “But I will admit, this room is a close second.”

“You like it, then?” Dream asks, his smiling widening ever so slightly.

Hob laughs again, because what sort of question is that? He loves this ridiculous man so very much, “I love it nearly as much as I love you.”

Dream melts against him, all nervousness gone, “I would bring you the real sun if I could.”

“I don’t need it,” Hob rests their foreheads together and tightens his embrace, “I have everything I need right here.” Pulling back almost reluctantly, Hob looked at Dream so softly, “Dearheart-”

Dream is so full of love he is nearly nauseous with it, like his body can’t contain it and all he can do is interrupt with a breathless exhale, “Marry me.”

Hob’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, and Dream rushes to say more, “I know it doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, wouldn’t really change anything, but I love you so much, I… I want to call you husband.”

There is a long pause, and Dream is almost ready to take it all back, but then Hob is laughing, and peppering his face with kisses, “You absolute twat,” he laughs, voice full of affection, “If you had just given me two seconds-” 

Stepping back, Hob took a moment to rifle through his pockets. Then he is taking one of Dream’s hands and bending down onto one knee. 

“I had a whole speech planned,” he says, trying to pout but smiling too wide for it to be effective. In his other hand, he is holding a beautiful wooden ring. The soft reddish-brown of rosewood, smoothed and polished, with a small chip of sapphire embedded in it, “I even went through the trouble of making this myself because every jeweler kept trying to talk me into silver.” 

Dream barked out a watery laugh, and that was when he realized he was crying. Hob giggled with him, leaning to place a kiss on his knuckles, “So. I know you asked first, technically,” he said with fond annoyance, “But I’ll say yes to your proposal if you say yes to mine,” he squeezed his hand, holding the ring a little higher, “Deal?”

There is too much love in his body, he fears he might burst with it, and so Dream thinks Hob will forgive him for the way he tackles him, toppling them both to the ground as he wraps his arms around him and kisses him deeply. “Yes,” he whispers against his lips, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Yes,” Hob replies in return, kissing him back. Eventually they pull apart long enough for Hob to slip the ring on Dream’s finger, a perfect fit. Dream stares down at it in wonder. 

“Definitely better than silver,” he teases, Hob smacking at him playfully. “I suppose in fairness I will not insist on being married in a church.”

“You are a menace,” Hob rolls over to pin Dream beneath his body.

“Till death do us part,” Dream smiles.

Hob leans down to kiss him again, “Not if I can help it.”

[meet-you-at-the-north-star]

Before Sunrise

Dick Winters x night owl! reader

Summary: morning cuddles. that’s it that’s the plot

Notes: the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed

Word count: 1018

I felt a sense of dizziness and then the unmistakable unpleasant sensation that comes with an abrupt awakening. Despite how dark the room was, I could barely keep my eyes open for a more than a second.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake you” a sweet whisper came from the darkness.

“Dick?” I held out my hand towards his side of the mattress and he immediately took it. “Is the sun even out yet…?”

He quietly chuckled. “Not yet, actually. A bit early even for me.”

I groaned and weakly attempted to pull him close to me by his arm. “Can you stay until I fall back asleep?”

“Of course” He shuffled closer, the chaotic sound of sheets shifting about heaven to my ears at that moment.

I somehow managed to meet him in the middle of the bed, snuggling up against him, my head coming to rest on his chest.

His left arm wrapped gently around my waist, his right coming to stroke my hair. He planted a slow kiss on my forehead and I hugged him tighter, enjoying his warm presence surrounding me again.

“Do you want to watch the sunrise?” He was still whispering, but an hint of excitement now colored his voice.

I looked at him. My eyes felt a little less heavy and had finally begun to get accustomed to the dark. He was smiling and looking fondly at me.

“Sure, alright” I nodded, pulling myself up on my elbows and turning onto my back so I could look towards the window. “It’s not like I get many chances to”

“Wait, I have a better idea” He smirked.

I shot him a questioning look. In response, he just stood up and scooped me into his arms. After a few steps, he quickly set the curtains aside and with an effortless kick moved the armchair from the foot of the bed directly under the window.

Only then he sat down, allowing me to fully lean on him but holding me close in the way that always made me feel so safe, to prevent me from falling.

I put my arms around his neck, legs lazily falling over his own and the chair’s armrest. Outside the window, the sky was colored with soft shades of pink and orange that were growing more and more intense.

I laid my head in the crane of his neck, feeling his ever steady heartbeat vibrate on my skin.

“I promise it won’t take long” He said gently stroking my shoulder with the outside of his fingers. His tone turned worried: “Are you cold? Do you need me to get you a blanket?”

“Not at all darling, this is fine” I smiled against his collarbone, knowing that he could feel that too. “Actually, I’m more than happy with my current situation”

“Mmm is that so?” He teased.

“Oh yeah” I Insisted. “You make a very comfy chair”

His laugh reverberated all through his chest and he gave me a little squeeze to show his appreciation.

“I could think of worse ways to start my day too” He suddenly raised up my chin and leaned down to capture my lips with his. The kiss was soft and sweet like the rest of our morning.

“I love you” He said when it was over, an inch from my lips, noses almost touching. His eyes were open and limpid.

As much as I was used to hear him say that from time to time now, my heart still dropped. It was always an event.

“I love you too” I cupped his cheek with my right hand, losing myself in the moment and into the water-green eyes of the man that I loved.

At this point, I had almost forgotten that I’d ever been accidentally woken up way too early for my tastes. I laid my head back on my favorite neck spot with a happy sigh, hand grabbing his shirt to nuzzle even closer to him.

“Keep your eyes open, I wouldn’t want you to miss it”

“Yessir” I said, jokingly bringing my right hand to my temple in a salute.

“Is that mockery I hear in your voice, private? You know I won’t stand for that” He feigned outrage, sounding entirely amused.

“Oh yeah?” I grinned. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Mmm I’ll have to think of an appropriate punishment” He snuck his hand under my pajama shirt and slowly moved it up and down my side, his touch on my naked skin making me shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Not that I mind your idea of punishment, major, but if you keep this up I might be too distracted to notice the sunrise” I chuckled and he laughed with me.

“That’s right, I’m sorry” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

We stayed quiet and focused our attention on what was happening outside the window. The sky was now brimming with beautiful shades of color and it didn’t take long for the sun to finally appear over the horizon, and I sat up straight so I could properly admire it.

I was left speechless. Being a certified night owl I hadn't seen many sunrises in my life, but I felt that this one was quite extraordinary. Or maybe it was being in his arms that made it feel so.

“It’s so beautiful” I breathed.

When I finally glanced back at him, I found his gaze already on me, admiring my every reaction instead of the natural spectacle in front of us. “Almost as beautiful as you”

I felt myself blushing red like it was our first date. “You’re lucky I already married you or I would have needed to propose to you after that”

He laughed. “Well, for what it’s worth, I would have said yes”

“Good for you” I joked, finishing the sentence with a yawn I couldn’t hide.

He took notice: “Don’t tell me you still want to go back to sleep after that”

“Oh yes, I do” I smirked. “And you’re coming with me”

[anantaru]

✦ ۫ 𑄼ల۫  ۪ DEC 8TH — FAVORITE WINTER ACTIVITIES

featuring: heizou, childe, xiao, albedo, diluc, itto, scaramouche, al-haitham x gn! reader

genre: fluff, crack ૮⍝◠ ·̫ ◠⍝ა | event.

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

decorating the house

for heizou and you it was important to decorate and celebrate a warm and warm-hearted christmas vibe, the atmosphere being filled with both kindness and compassion, symbolizing your love to each other and the new season.

"how does this look?"

heizou held a dainty figurine in his hand, symbolizing an angel, wrapped in a white little garment as he held it on to the drawer next to the big christmas tree, being unsure if it would fit.

"I love it! it fits the white ornaments on our tree."

your glowing face was definitely better than the wintery season itself, the sides of your lips were split in an enticing smile as you walked towards him.

"i love the sound of 'our' tree."

flabbergasted with joy and delight he put the small figurine on the desk so he could place his hands on your waist, drawing you closer.

a kiss, only one, saying more than one thousand words, that threw you off reality, feeling like your feet barely touched the ground anymore.

upon pulling away, you held his cheeks in your palms, continuing, "we should continue to decorate." grabbing the silver ribbons and glitter off the table you tried to pull away from his grasp as he hooked his hand into you.

watching him with a confused expression, you continued, "there‘s still things to do on the tree."

"OUR tree, don't mess it up now."

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

ice fishing

with ajax having an immense advantage surrounding this particular hobby— due to his father and him spending lots of time ice fishing together when he was little, he made it his duty to show you all the little tricks he had up his sleeve.

"wait, hold it like this."

your fingers were desperately cramping around the fishing rod, your hands struggling as he took them in his palm, wiggling you into the right direction.

"see, isn't that better?" his warm breath on your cheeks surely made you experience another familiar feeling, your smile being wide as you drew your eyes to him, thankful. "you're right."

"father and i always came here on the exact same spot, he showed me everything I'm showing you right now."

of course, you knew ajax was a big family person, his family was everything he had with you counting as a member of it as well.

the first time you met his parents you could still remember how excited he was, contentment warmed him from within when you were gradually opening up to them, laughing at each others jokes. He was so proud.

proceeding to let out some line from the fishing rod— so you could set the hook much further, you eagerly listened to the stories ajax would tell you about his childhood.

between the physical cold of the wintry day in snezhnaya, you shared each others company. An icy beauty was roaming, gently, a white sparkle as fine as any crystal would be when it began to snow, making the day very much more beautiful.

✦ 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

sledding

with a puffy winter coat, xiao and you decided to go out sledding, well, not quite.

you actually had that brilliant idea and xiao followed suit, he wanted to make sure nothing was happening and that you weren't going to catch a cold, as if he could prevent that in the first place.

"are you sure you aren't too cold? we can still go back."

there it was again, your laugh echoed through the icy area as you turned around to watch xiao place the sled on the ground, his brows being slightly scrunched together in thought.

"i'm fine, are you ready though?" obviously, teasing him was one of your favorite things to practice, xiao never went sledding before and he was quite fond of the idea to share a new experience with his s/o.

"why shouldn't i be?" embarrassingly shifting his weight from side to side, he crossed his arms over his body, the cold air continuing to color his cheeks in a red hue.

"nothing nothing, we should start the fun!"

sledding every cold season comes and goes, but doing it with your s/o sure leaves its own impression, one that will always be remembered within high esteem.

with the sled down, you could feel the spine chilling wind run across your bodies when you sank onto the ground with xiao following suit.

you were sitting right in between his legs, he wanted it that way even though you had suggested to change positions, xiao still wanted you to sit particularly like that so he could drape his body over yours.

upon sliding down your faces changed with yours glistering in joy and excitement, you were pretty high up the hill, meaning that the sled was far faster than you had expected.

screaming and laughing you snuggled into xiao who held his breath because he didn't know what to do or what to say, nuzzling himself into your body and watching you well up with happiness.

it brought him a ray of happiness as well, seeing you like this.

✦ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎

ice skating

you were moving in tandem with the crystal cold on you, albedo holding your hand as the both of you skated over the frozen lake in mondstadt.

if there was beauty in teyvat, it was here, in this moment, together with every weight lifted off your soul, it felt as if you were floating with him by your side.

"how are you so good at this albedo? you said it's your first time."

it was somehow hilarious how your boyfriend seemed to literally know everything by heart, even hobbies he had never tried nor thought about before.

"it is actually quite simple, the mass of the ice is nearly perfectly constructed to hold the people of mondstadt." yeah, that wasn't what you meant but you decided not to press the conversation any further, more so would he end up telling you all about the mass and construction of ice.

either way, those little quirks surely made you fall in love in the first place, albedo's fluffy hair was engulfed by the icy air, hiding significant features of his handsome face.

with your hand tightly shut around his, you continued to dance around the ice and albedo was barely able to conceal his delight. Of course, he was always itching to learn and experience new things and now, doing that, together with you?

truly the best way to greet the cold season.

�� 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

wrapping presents

every year, gifts were an exchange being made by friends and family, naturally diluc and you were quite entranced by the idea of sending various little goodies to your close ones, or at least, you were.

truth is, he could be a bit overwhelmed with it, when it came to gifting someone something he wasn't the most creative one either, really, he was struggling his butt off so he was happy to at least have you by his side.

"jean will love this homemade bread and hand written letter, I'm sure of it."

with that you looped a golden and red string over the packaged gift, placing it to the other already done goodies you had been working on earlier.

your eyes next, fell to diluc who was surprisingly struggling, his fingers were clumsily squeezing the wrapping paper over a dusty notebook.

"who is this gift for?"

curiosity caught the best off you as you rested your head against your palm, watching diluc add an ungodly amount of wrapping paper to the small book.

"kaeya."

how emotionless he let that name out, maybe he was too focused or he didn't want to talk about it. "you're gifting kaeya an old notebook?"

"it was my fathers, he should have it."

the next sight was adorable in your eyes, whenever diluc would get embarrassed his cheeks would flush red, sometimes the color would fade incredibly strong that it rivaled his hair.

"aw, that's so nice of you master diluc."

laughing and smiling, you rose up to wiggle yourself into his lap at last. Your boyfriend of course, let you, adoring nothing more than being close to you as you continued to watch him finish up kaeya's gift:

the gift he told you he wanted to wrap up himself.

✦ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

building a snowman

"this is stupid."

lets be honest here, you knew scaramouche wasn't fond of the idea of quote on quote playing in the snow, yet you still desperately wanted to build a snowman right in front of your home to uplift everyone's mood on the new developing season.

"come on, don't be a dealbreaker, you promised."

his eyes rolled in the back of his head as you spoke, but he didn't say anything, an annoyed groan was the last word you could perceive as he nearly finished the bottom of the snowman.

you could swore you saw a tiny sprinkle of a smile on him, maybe you were delusional but there was something that made it difficult for scaramouche to simply walk away or complain to you more.

"I'm only doing this for you so you better be thankful."

his focus was completely on you now, crystalized eyes watching you and waiting for some sort of reaction, or answer.

"i know and i‘m grateful for you."

knowing full on well it will make him flustered, you added a small giggle to your words as you brought your attention back to the headless snowman, attempting to grab onto the finished head.

"wait, let me do this." every person needed a harbor, a secure attachment and for scaramouche there was never a person like this, before you.

so even though he still despised the idea of building something as time consuming and stupid as a snowman— which will melt anyways, he wanted to at least try and show you that he was serious about another thing.

with a tiny bit of your help he settled the snowball on top of the body, you came prepared and added a tiny red scarf and a hat with scaramouche holding onto the carrot and two buttons.

in an attempt to give them to you, you turned away, beckoning him to do it himself as he followed with a deep sigh.

he was a bit rough at first so you had to make sure he wouldn't destroy the head of the snowman with his brute strength, but after careful guidance the both of you backed away to watch your craft it its full glory.

"our own creation."

with that, you wiggled your fingers into his. This sentence meant a lot to him, reminding him of a string of pain, with his eyes holding something akin to freedom.

✦ 𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

baking cookies

"DON'T TOUCH THIS ITTO IT‘S HOT!"

your screaming fell on deaf ears as itto grabbed onto the hot plate on the kitchen counter, squealing out upon making contact with it and almost throwing all of the cookies on the ground.

"ow, what the fuck?!"

with the way he was smacking the plate away, some of the cookies broke into tiny pieces as you sighed out at what your clumsy boyfriend had just did.

"noooo, we need to do it again now."

you weren't getting frustrated that often with itto's little schemes, in all honesty, you were used to it and quite accustomed to whatever measures you had to take to bath out whatever he would do or let happen.

"i didn't mean to, i swear"! worry was written all across his face with his brows being tightly scrunched together, anxiety wrinkles tickling on his forehead.

"i know, i know, lets do it again."

rubbing your eyes you walked over to your boyfriend who had an expression akin to someone who just saw a ghost as you placed your hands onto his cheeks, playfully squeezing the flesh.

"you need to concentrate."

his lips trembled as happiness threw itself at him like a comet, nodding frantically at your words as a newfound dedication swelled within him.

"okay, lets do this!"

breathing out a long sigh while shaking your head, you grabbed onto the big bowl from beforehand to start over, itto following your every step like a lost puppy who didn't know any better.

with being already familiar with the recipe, it didn't take you long to finish the dough, just a few ingredients being missing before you could go on to prepare them for the oven again.

"you know." he suddenly spoke, taking the sugar off the counter to hand it over to you with a overly confident smirk on his lips.

"what if i *did* do it on purpose to spend more time with you?"

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

stargazing + winter camping

under the darkened sky, between the clouds, in their usual mesmerizing appearence, the glow of the stars were prancing through the transparent clouds and illuminated the world within.

al-haitham and you were nuzzled together in both heavy winter coats and a couple of blankets, sipping on a cup of tea he had prepared as you gazed away.

it was intimate, but not in a sexual way, simply in a pure, soul blooming way you sadly weren‘t able to experience all the time with the both of you being busy on a daily basis.

"did you hear about the story of teyvat and their three moons?"

his warm hand was seeking you as he looped his arm over your shoulders, drawing you close.

"no, what is it about?" even though he would deny it, al-haitham had a way with words and on how to explain certain things, quite contradicting as the akademiya‘s scribe, yet it made him the perfect story teller in your eyes.

"once there were three moon sisters, named aria, sonnet and canon living in a lunar palace."

"sounds like a fairy tale." raising your brow with a giggle you nudged yourself closer to him with al-haitham‘s eyes glued to the sky.

"it might be, but who knows? the sky is endless."

you could see the stars twinkling in his unique colored eyes. No words have been spoken for a while, the proximity filled with pure calmness as the cold air was signifying the start of a new season.

©2022 anantaru do not copy, share, translate

[eatmangoesnekkid]

Lovemaking/Fucking as a Regenerative Practice for Women and Other Female Bodied People to Share With their Beloved of Any Gender:

I truly believe that a slow, thoughtful, openhearted, tuned in lover can just as effective as years of therapy. This is probably one of my top 3 favorite sexual arts to channel and translate about. And I know that the uninitiated read the word "fucking" and may tense up and think derogatory things. But real "fucking" is not careless or thoughtless. It is built-up or ongoing non-mechanistic primal desire--the hot, wet, sticky, dripping, stealthy, lusty, passionate heat and hunger that more easier accessed in new relationships but can nurtured or revived in long-term ones. It is our cells and tissues way of craving depth--before thought. It is actually quite divine and prayerful to be able to access this state when your mind is empty and heart is open towards your lover. Begin threading your life with more slow relaxing energy. Have a love affair with mindfulness and distill more presence in your life, like through a meditation practice, chanting, or listening to soulful music like gospel music as a passionate, holy, primal frequency that instinctively calibrates you into deep feeling. Embarking on the journey to living a slower life will greatly support you in your unrepressed lovemaking and healing arts in the future. You may find yourself naturally divesting from distractions like celebrity culture without much effort.

As you start to get familiar with and play in different colors and intensities of this regenerative practice, be sure to open your mouth, open your back throat, which opens your cervix, your metaphysical heart, and streams down even more heavenly love energy into your hands and body. Love is the healing energy, you see and when you begin to embody more love, your hands and body become portals to healing/regeneration. A lover being connected to or inside your body regenerates them over and over again, in different ways. To be a Love Goddess or Sex Priestess, means that you have generous access to your innate healing energy to shift an experience. In the female form, this is your creamy lubrication that's not just confined to your pussy, but also in your throat, ass, hands, underarms, areolas, nipples, heart, I mean- your whole body and its abundance of pheromones become oceanic.

A woman's body arcs open wide as pure water quenching every cellular thirst.

When making love/fucking, you want to also simultaneously transfer or transmute some of your arousal, desire, and heat towards the stagnant inflamed parts of your lover. Let's say your beloved lover has stagnant eyes or chronic migraines. As you climb onto or straddle your lover's lap, as you sit your ass on lover's thighs, and invite this person to suck your breasts (not that you say words, but feel the desire and intention), you then transfer that heightened arch-back energy into your lover's face by lovingly massaging and kissing and speaking life into their eyes or scalp out loud (your voice/ranges of sound is also regenerative), stimulating their energy to flow which is what creates their new body narratives. Also you don't just work where the pain site or stagnation issue is location. Also work on the extremities of your Beloved like their feet, hands, calves, etc.

Basically you are finding ways to touch and speak life into their entire body depending upon what position your body is arcing open inside of. Sitting on their face? Lovely--also massage and knead their calves while sitting to bring heat, warmth, lymph and blood flow happiness into lower extremities. For people who have body challenges, the extremities are usually more tight and cold which support eye and migraine issues and the like. You do this while being touched/sucked on (be sure to grasp/massage the nape of the neck too for greater energy unlocking) and it's this beautiful dance and transference of energy that orbits and volleys back and forth between you and your lover. It’s how you can help drain the depressive energy stored in lover’s body over the years as well. This is an advanced practice.

If you are truly connected to divine feminine, you never have to be afraid, particularly if a depth of love is present in your relationship connection. None of us will ever be all “healed” or unblemished in this 3D reality —it’s impossible and we can still share our bodies with our imperfect lovers who may be having a hard time or going through some shit for very long time and actually be of service to them. After any kind of lovemaking/fucking, be sure to go outside on grass or sand or in water on the same or next day and shake your body vigorously while barefoot and lightly clothed. When we make love or fuck, our bodies are used as portals to give, receive, exchange or extract energy. Sex is the deepest energy work, the nastier and more unrestrictive and un-egoic, the better the medicine.

You can do this same act for knee pain and anything else. As you kiss and grip your lover's body (while taking caution and care around the pain spot), you send that arousal, love, care, and desire energy, maybe you even see or feel golden, violent, or green healing and send it into the knee and the surrounding areas. You speak love into the knee and the surrounding areas, almost like you are wanting to penetrate or be penetrated by it. Penetrative (giving/receiving) energy when love is present is deeply healing for all bodies. There is so many layers and viscosities that we get to play in when it comes to healing and regeneration, where lovemaking becomes artful and a much needed 'hands on, hands inside' skillset.

When you become sensitive to energy, and aware of what it means to have a female body in your every day life, you can place your hand on lover's spine and bring an immediate shift in their reality. You can do the same thing for your child or father. You are not trying heal or fix ANYTHING--you are merely allowing your body to be that portal to love/creation it was divinely oriented to be.

But with lovemaking/fucking, that same innocent energy is extraordinarily heightened into larger and more robust erotic energy to be orbited between two lovers with open hearts and undernourished egos. While doctors can be incredibly valuable, there is also something mystical that melts and swells in you that can do what no physician can. It’s incumbent that you lay down what you no longer need to carry and access those deep states that allow you to live your highest potential and help your loved ones do the same. -India Ame'ye, Author