#he wasn’t even trying to hide his true colors | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hazelfoureyes · 8 months ago

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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania

˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 ˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦

Alastor demands you tell him what you’d consider a nice date, which makes a surprisingly lovely time in the library. Dancing leads to… not dancing and a minor rearranging of your guts. And finally, you try to shame Alastor out of Mania and Alastor finds himself having to explain, well, Alastor.

「warnings/promises: Smut, guts➡️rearranged, kinda dub➡️con cuz Alastor still doesn’t listen, but funnily enough neither do you?, lots of interrupting each other, Luci’s hat, you’re down so fucking bad lmao」

🎶 minors DNI 🎵

Angel was live blogging everything you said when you recounted what happened to you after returning to the hotel.

“Wait there’s a character limit, I gotta make a new post.” He was wiping actual tears from his eyes, “Fuck this is funny.”

“Hmmph,” Alastor offered a small noise from his end of the sofa. Neither of you had mentioned or even referenced the sex. There was a strange feeling between you that it didn’t happen so it didn’t need a discussion. But also that it had absolutely happened, as Alastor’s hands found renewed vigor in their search for you when in public and private and your body seemed to respond in kind. You’d still occasionally move his hand off of you, but there was a pulse of electricity every time. When his hand would come to rest on your upper thigh while seated beside each other in the common areas, you let it linger. What harm was it? Heaven wasn’t fucking watching.

Everything aside, the sex had done nothing to dispel his interest. Perhaps you’d only made it worse, for both of you.

By midweek you found the sling useless, happily tossing it aside and beginning gentle stretches. That was more progress than you'd made in your main task.

Every morning you woke up beside Alastor, every day you had him in your orbit, every night you fell asleep feet from him.

Had Mania not taken him he would be a prime candidate for showing the virtue of true love. He was already fucking there, a captive audience. But that wasn’t how it worked. Cupid-induced manic love could never be true. Nothing you created was true, really. But atleast with Eros or Agape you could still have added the notion of true love to the mix. His heart would still be receptive and open to the idea. The way he was now, you could proselytize until you were blue in the face and he’d still think manic love was true love.

An unintended consequence of living with Alastor was discovering you both had quite a bit in common, as much as that information irked you. He enjoyed horror movies such as ‘Dracula’, you enjoyed horror movies as well, just newer ones. Ones in color. He could cook quite well, something you enjoyed to do. And his taste in music was actually lovely. You had assumed he listened to screams on a 7 hour loop.

Actually, upon closer inspection, Alastor was nothing like you had initially assumed. While he had shown you he was capable of terrifying feats of strength and power, he was also remarkably gentle. Every time you descended the stairs his hand was barely felt as it hovered at your elbow ready to save you.

Early in the week you fell asleep watching the group play a board game, somehow redemption related, and awoke with his coat laid over your body. When you thanked him, he just smiled and continued enjoying watching Niffty hide the play money.

You were finding yourself more and more wishing the arrow had never fallen. If you’d just met him as you fell, perhaps you would be staring into that portal home. There were definitely worse options around. Even his imposing height had begun to…not bother you, perhaps was the best way to say it.

Or his large hands. There was a safety in the way they rested on your back. Speaking of…

Your throat ran dry when he leaned into you, one of those hands sliding across your thigh, and asked against your ear, “Ready to go?”

He had to have seen you licking your lips to unstick your teeth. With a nod, he stood and offered a hand to you.

You both were already out of the elevator and walking to your room when he slowed, coming to stop just in front of you.

His room, fucking hell.

“You know, I was thinking,” he wasn’t looking as he spoke to you, which was odd given how often he stared at you. “If you’re going to be here with me from now on-��

You opened your mouth to argue but he put his hand up, “I’d like to know the things you enjoy doing with your romantic interests.” His smile was almost pure, you could tell he was genuinely asking.

“Well I don’t have any so, why would you care?”

“No things you enjoy?”

“No romantic interests.”

His head lolled to the side, “Sometimes I think you say things just to bother me.”

You did.

“I do.”

You thought if you kept being rude maybe you could keep him at an arm’s length. Not get too attached. You’d been kind to people you didn’t like before and eventually you started to like them. This was that. But opposite.

He stared down at you, taking a step closer. You took one back. That smile shifted from pure to sinister, his eyes half lidded. You could almost see the thoughts playing on his face.

“Alastor-,” your back hit the elevator doors. The pounding of your heart when he brought his face to yours drowned out the sounds of the button being pressed. When the doors opened you fell backward with a yelp, but a strong arm caught you by the waist.

“You have twelve floors.” His hand hit the first floor button, “You can share with me your idea of a quality date. Or I can show everyone,” that clawed hand came to your neck, sliding down the evidence of your pounding heart, “how pretty you scream.”

As soon as the doors closed you were pressed against the elevator wall, right leg pulled up and around his waist. “You wouldn’t dare.” You had meant it to sound strong but instead it was half whispered with a shaky voice.

He popped a button off your blouse, “Maybe!” Warm mouth now on your neck, his tongue ran over your pulse, “I wonder if everyone is still in the lobby.”

Over his shoulder you watched the numbers counting down. The hand that cut off the button slid down to your bottoms, slipping under the waistband.

On the 3rd floor the elevator stopped. When the doors opened a demon you didn’t recognize was standing there, eyes wide and mouth open. He didn’t make a move to enter, Alastor looking over his shoulder and sharing what you could only assume was a death glare. The flickering lights were a giveaway to his anger.

His fingers dipped down and cupped your sex, hot palm pressing into your folds.

The doors closed again and you watched the second floor light up. A finger bent and pressed into you.

A nibble at your ear, “You know I’ll win, regardless.”

He was right. Which was the smaller defeat? Humiliation or just telling the bastard your idea of a nice time?

“Books. Drinks.” You squeaked, the first floor lamp now aglow. His hand pulled away just as the doors opened.

Expecting him to gloat you were surprised he just hit the 10th floor button. The library.

He opened the door for you. The library’s main area had two reading chairs bookending a long antique sofa. You took the chair furthest from the door, hearing the door lock.

With a snap, the entire bar with Husk included seemed to fall three inches out of thin air.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Husk looked around, already annoyed, “You coulda just fucking asked for drinks to bring with you. You know cups are portable, right?”

It was nice, actually. Husk poured, you both read. There was an unnecessary fireplace crackling behind you. Cozy. And it got cozier and warmer the more you drank. Your shields softened as the glasses emptied.

Your book was good, but as you felt the alcohol hit you were reminded of the last time you’d gotten a little past tipsy. Sneakily, but not at all, your eyes wandered over to Alastor.

His legs were crossed, but you could remember looking down and seeing them spread open beneath you. Open. Did many people see him like you had? Had his talk about a disinterest in sex actually been a trick to intrigue you? It hadn’t worked, you genuinely didn’t care what his preferences were. If anything it made you less likely to make a pass.

Your eyes wandered down his slender neck to his wide shoulders. Less than a week ago your arms were resting there. Further down, you remembered that soft bit of fur at the base of his cock, a small trail from his belly button.

Husk watched your face turn pink, “You good?” Your head whipped around, looking confused. “You’re getting red.”

Oh. I was just thinking about my pussy drowning in Alastor’s cum.

No, obviously not!

Alastor’s eyes left his book and found yours. They were so red; his eyes, not your cheeks. No one in heaven had such wicked an appearance. When you didn’t reply, busy staring back at Alastor, Husk groaned, “Aah fuck.”

“What are you reading?” You asked, clearly able to see the book title from where you sat.

Alastor held it up, “Oliver Twist.”

“Never read it.”

You had read it.

Setting your book down, you tried to walk as straight as a line as you could to him. You took the book from his hands and sat down on his lap, back against his chest, before picking it up again. “What page are we on?”

“You can leave, Husker.” Alastor didn’t even look at Husk when he said it, eyes still on your face.

When the door closed and Alastor could lock it with a snap, he uncrossed his legs. “Would you like to start over dear? From the beginning.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Can we?” You leaned your head onto his shoulder. When had he become so comfortable…?

“We can.” The book was set aside, his left hand pulling your chin up, “I think we skipped a few chapters before.”

You opened your mouth, “I don’t like kissing.”

“You will.”

The front part of your brain dissolved, you were sure of it. Your decision making abilities were entirely eradicated as his lips pressed into yours. Fuck, maybe even your basic motor skills had been fried, his tongue swiping across your mouth before you just—opened. Your hips ground down into his lap, and you felt his smile widen against your lips.

“Stop smiling. I just like warm bodies.” You reached for the book and opened it to the first page, “and you’re so fucking warm.”

He began to read, but between the rumble of his chest, his voice in your ear, and the heat of his body, you fell asleep.

No matter. Alastor just hummed. With a summoning of his shadow you both sank into your shared bed, where he continued reading with you against his chest.

You dreamt about home. About red eyes and warmth.

Was it so bad, being in hell? Sure you had a fucking deer demon as guard dog but it seemed his mania was … not so terrible. Honestly he seemed relatively normal now. He would wander off for significant lengths of time, even leaving in the mornings while you were still lazing about. A kiss to your hand was the indicator he would be popping off somewhere.

Alastor still wouldn’t let Lucifer alone with you, but otherwise everything was okay. You’d even come to enjoy certain aspects of his possessiveness. That ever present hand, for example. Even when it wasn’t on you, you could still almost feel it. It had become second nature now.

The week was actually peaceful. Your pain was entirely gone, you could move about freely. Despite that Alastor still would press up behind you and offer to help dress you. An offer you declined, but every time he asked you paused longer and longer before saying no.

Alastor was happy to find you in the library toward the end of the week, you having wandered off when he was called away. He summoned a confused but pissed off Husk again, who was midway through making someone else’s drink. He set it aside, pouring Alastor his whiskey. You decided against drinking, you knew you always made poor decisions. Like sleeping.

Delighted by the impressive collection you found a non-fiction and settled into the same large chair.

“Reading is a virtue.” He said to himself yet out-loud, taking a seat and setting the radio on from across the room. Etta James. ‘Somethings got a hold of me.’

“A little past your time, isn’t it?” You smiled, you liked songs about love. Not because of who you were, you just liked the idea of someone so enamored they have to make art.

He laughed, “Nosey little bird, have you been asking about me?”

Well shit. You had forgotten to play dumb. The past couple weeks you had casually inquired about Alastor from the other staff members. A modest collection of facts to help you better understand the man. A quick recovery. “Know your enemy!”

He cackled, “Sun Tzu! What does Cupid need ‘The Art of War’ for?!”

What, did he expect you to only read romance novels and Roman mythos? “You can’t make a shadow without light. In fact,” you put the book down, “The Greeks thought Cupid was a child of War and Beauty.”

Okay well, Greek mythos is a little different than their Roman counterpart’s. So. There.

Alastor watched you leaning over the arm of the chair, no sign of pain as you did so. Your injury must have mended well. “Do you have parents?” He asked, genuinely wondering how your kind were created.

“No, we're just… made. And then sent off on assignments.”

“You must be terribly busy, just one person for all of earth.” If Alastor could pull some limbs and find out more from anyone but you, he would, but unfortunately no one but Vaggie would know anything about you and he had a feeling her time in heaven was never spent thinking about love.

“Oh, actually not so much! When I’m with humans I can travel around without worrying about the concept of time at all. But it takes a toll.” Or so you were told. There were never two Cupids at one time so you couldn’t really ask your predecessors. Alastor’s brows rose, unsure how exactly a Cupid could be taxed if they didn’t feel pain and couldn’t be hurt. “Every trip to Earth weakens us. Until our bodies just, I guess, give out.” A smile crept across your face, unsure what expression you were supposed to be making.

“Is it just Earth? Or,” he lowered the radio volume with just a glance, “Every time you leave heaven?” It would take a great effort to not notice the weight suddenly blanketing the library. Silence was heavy with what he was really asking you. Would remaining here kill you?

It was a great question. Wow he’s really good at this. It almost seemed like he gave a shit. No one had ever asked you about your creation, about your work. It was nice. Even from him. Maybe especially from him.

You had never been to hell, so you couldn’t be sure, but, “I think it’s a human-world time-thing. But I guess we’ll find out!” Another misplaced smile before you awkwardly leaned back and picked up the book.

While you hadn’t noticed the slip up you had made, Alastor had. “I suppose we will.”

You would find out, because you wouldn’t be returning to heaven. He was glad you, even if unconsciously, understood that. And perhaps you could live forever if you never returned to earth.

When the song ended, you offered one of your own.

Alastor was pleasantly surprised to hear you request Nat King Cole’s ‘It’s almost like being in love’.

Standing, he offered you his hand for a dance. “Ugh I hate this cheesy shit.” You said it but stood anyway, putting your hands in his.

Alastor laughed, swaying side to side, “Not a fan of romance? Has Cupid never been in love?”

Those were two seperate things. How could you explain? “Drug dealers number one rule. Never get high off your own supply. That would be—.”

Lonely. Pathetic.

“A bad idea.” His cheek rested on your head. It was a shockingly tender act. “Can you understand? Why would I want something I made. What’s special about that?”

“And what of true love? It isn’t made by you, yes?” Asked into your hair.

“Yeah but when will I ever find the time to make a connection worthwhile. Winners and Angels are gluttons for choice, I am obviously built for a fun time not a long time.” Which you were…fine with. Yeah. I mean, what choice did you have? “And I don’t want to force it…so…” you trailed off. The rest didn’t matter.

He nodded, suppressing another laugh. “I see. Well, allow me to give you something you inspired, how about that? Not made. Would you say no, my muse?”

Inspired? Like a song? “Ha, what have I inspired in you, heathen.”

Alastor stopped dancing, his hand pulling your face up for a kiss which took you by surprise.

“Seriousl-,” Husk mercifully disappeared in a flash of neon green.

You couldn’t remember exactly how it happened, much like many of the moments you surrendered to Alastor. It was so fast and he was so strong, his hands large and confident in how they moved you. Before you knew it you were bent over the sofa’s arm getting fucked so hard your leg was shaking and your stomach nauseous.

This was much better than songs or art or whatever you inspired in others. You were gasping with every breath, the action somehow heightening the sensations. The little huffs and groans your body was pulling from him had your heart racing.

His cock was smashing your womb into your guts, the entire organ suddenly feeling like a new pleasure spot. Every jolt to your cervix made a novel kind of bliss pool in your stomach.

You cried, head empty as he completely left your heat before bottoming out again, “Stop, Alastor. Stop.” A strained moan, hands gripping the wooden sofa arm, “stop, stop, fuuuuck.”

He was pulling out too far and too fast, hitting back too hard and too deep. Your cunt felt swollen around him, your entrance so soft and wet he didn’t need precision to sink back in.

“Does it hurt?” He said quickly on the down beat of his thrust.

“Nngh no.”

“Theeen, no.”

Alastor pulled you up by your chin, back bending as he titled your mouth to his. Despite your mouth hanging open with your tongue out as salacious as you’d ever been, you told him, “I really don’t kiss during sex.”

The look in his downcast eyes sent a shiver along your spine, a power there you couldn’t push against, “You do now, my dear.”

When in hell, you supposed. You didn’t even try to argue, accepting his tongue wrapping around yours and exploring your mouth while his dick churned up your insides. Full from top to bottom. Full of Alastor. Safe. Wanted. Needed.

You pulled away when there was an overwhelming bone-deep sensation spilling through your hips and down your thighs. The muscles felt weak there, and you had an urge to runaway from it but Alastor held you still.

A scream of ecstasy as both legs shook violently, you finally got your hands free orgasm but to your shock it didn’t stop. As it appeared to wane, it just started mounting again. By the third roll, Alastor came with a push so deep your chest fell over the arm of the sofa. If not for the hands bruising your hips, you would have fallen off entirely.

The ache in your stomach began immediately, you’d have thought someone had been punching you in the gut. Well, more literally than they had been. When you groaned and complained to Alastor about what he had done, he pulled you up by your waist.

You were drawn into him, back to his chest again with your body between those long legs. His hands came to your stomach. Alastor massaged deep circles into your abdomen.

“Does that help?” His high voice lowered, husky and kind into your ear. You nodded, the pressure relieved the discomfort.

You wondered if he was used to taller demons than your shorter heavenly form, or perhaps he wasn’t used to anyone at all. Maybe sinners had more room than you did.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Believe it or not,” probably not, “I’m never trying to hurt you.”

Was it terrible you actually did believe him? Yes he was a serial killer, and considered one of the most cruel overlords in recent memory. But he was always gentle when his hands were on you. Flits of memories of him washing your feet came back to you.

“I know perhaps,” his hands kept moving, your back already stuck to his with well earned sweat, “I have at times been easily incensed.”

You nodded quickly.

“But, It’s just,” you heard him swallow hard, “ah I absolutely hate this,” He whispered it to himself. “I’m just scared you’ll leave before I’ve managed to convince you how much happier I can make you here.”

It’s not that it was funny, necessarily, but the very idea hell could be happier than Heaven was laughable. It was Heaven. It was made to be happy. It existed purely to please.

The smile faded from your face. Well, for the winners. It was made to please the winners. It wasn’t made for you, but you still got much enjoyment. You had…sex. Great sex. Not held aloft in a radio tower great, but…You always came. Everyone did. Wasn’t that the point of it?

Wasn’t that the point?

What was the point?

A warm and lonely bed is better than an empty one alone. So.

Well, your bed was always warm and never lonely in hell now that you’d been “moved”.

You had… Hobbies. You liked swimming.

Okay well the hotel had a pool. And yes, if you weren’t running off to earth on command you’d have more energy for hobbies.

What were you thinking about this for again?

You gathered the scraps of your relevant thoughts, “Happiness isn’t being confined to a hotel, Alastor.”

“As soon as you show me you won’t leave me, I won’t care where you go. As long as you’re safe.” One of his hands left your stomach to stroke your cheek, “I’m just waiting for you to realize what I already know.”

If Alastor were to ease his grip on you, could you enjoy yourself? Well, more than you did. But it was more than that, you had to admit you hated the idea of losing, of just running away. “I don’t like giving up.”

His laugh was quiet but it rocked you as his chest moved. “Darling they threw you to hell and told you you’re not allowed to leave unless you do homework. Giving up what? Being a servant to heaven?”

If he had said it a couple weeks prior, you would have left the room indignant. But now, settled against his hot skin and being so softly touched, it sounded like tough love.

“I don’t belong here though.” You were talking to yourself. So many excuses.

His arms wrapped around your chest to hug you into him, “You belong wherever I am.” His cheek pressed against yours, “I won’t let you go.”

A threat. A threat you leaned into and warmed yourself with. A threat a quiet part of you hoped he kept his word on.

You were getting too comfortable. Every morning you woke up to Alastor curled into your body, holding you tightly to him and you found yourself smiling before your consciousness clicked on. At some point in the last week he grabbed your chin and kissed you good night and suddenly every time he left your side you allowed a kiss to your cheek before he parted. What was worse was how you’d talk in bed about your recent reads and what happened the few hours you weren’t with each other.

The thing that made you realize you were getting honestly too deep was when you went to go to bed early and actually took the elevator past your floor, walked all the way to his station and told him good night. You’d made it to his chair and were leaning down for your kiss when your face fell flat.

He asked what was wrong but you shook your head. A poorly faked smile offered to him.

You sat in your bed. His bed. Your bed?

You sat in bed and wondered how to press forward. Two months, nearly, you’d been in hell. At this rate surely heaven had made a replacement. If you could make it back quickly you could still keep your place.

A decision was made, you’d never confronted Alastor head on. You had misunderstood his illusion of you. But maybe if you just forced it into his thick skull he’d been controlled and puppeted by an arrow, not his free will, he would abandon it to save his pride.

Knees to your chest, why were you crying again? Did you want to go home?

No, you wanted to curl into his stupid fucking lap and listen to him hum his stupid old, forgotten songs. You wanted to dance while Husk groaned and rolled his eyes. You wanted to feel loved.

But you weren’t made to want things. And Alastor didn’t love you.

Okay, one more night to enjoy yourself before you pissed him off so much he kicked you out of his bed. Or took such a turn into obsession he never let you leave the room again, allowing you to shirk responsibility for not returning to heaven.

When you turned the handle there was resistance, the door pushing in.

“Alastor? Done already?” He’d seemed busy earlier.

He closed the door and locked it. Oh. A blush. The sound of a locking door had come to mean certain things to you.

“You seemed bothered.” His thumb wiped where your tears had already dried, “What ever is the problem? Did someone upset you? Some neck I should wring?” You shook your head no. His other hand came to join in holding your face, those goddamned red eyes melting you to nothing, “Some limbs I should snap?” He took a step toward you and you took two back, hands holding his wrists. Another no. “Or some cheeks I should kiss?”

Stop crying.

An eager nod. “Don’t cry, my love.” Soft lips catching your tears, thin fingers wiping them away. He kept walking forward and you kept walking back until your legs hit the bed.

One more night, just in case. In case he forfeits the mania.

You kissed his neck, startling him. “Rare form. Did you need some more intimate attention, darling?” You tried to avoid initiating, never knowing what he wanted or when, never wanting to enjoy his touch too much. “I could indulge you.”

What you wanted was to be reduced so thoroughly to just a physical creature by way of pleasure that your mind disconnected from your brain. Fucked dumb, as people said. Alastor wouldn’t know what that meant but you were confident he’d enjoy sussing out the finer details of the meaning if it meant your full surrender.

You bit down on his neck, getting you pushed onto the bed in return. “I need overindulgence. I don’t wanna feel anything tonight but you.” You should practice your manners, for heaven's sake. “Please.”

There it was again. That look that turned your bones to jelly and your brain to cotton; that downcast half lidded stare as he towered over you that promised to devour you whole. His hand pulled at his bow tie and loosened his collar, knees on the bed as his legs spread you open at the thighs.

“Good girl.”

No punishment or inspiration, just that mental numbness that turned off all your worries. We’re you making stupid faces? We’re your sounds embarrassing? Didn’t matter. You didn’t care. You clung to his body like you’d fall apart without his skin on yours. Because you would, in some fashion.

Every gap between your bodies felt like room for doubt. So you filled them with flesh and sighs and moans.

With his height difference you were smothered by him when in traditional heaven-approved missionary, but you liked lying on top. Your head only made it to his chest when your hips were positioned above his cock. You could go slack and let him move you on and off himself. You had been lying when you said you preferred to not move or make noise, but you’d learned he got harder and more feral when you let him manipulate your body any way he pleased.

He smelled like sweat and leather, probably from the chairs in the lobby. No one sweats in heaven, this seemed like a mistake now. You’d have to be sure to not wash your clothes after you left hell, or else you’d forget his scent.

After finishing, he was surprised to find you still clinging to his torso, arms under his armpits and hooked onto his shoulders. He offered to pull out and let you lie down but you just held on tighter in response. He glanced around the room, soft light and softer music on the radio. Your quiver and bow rested against the armoire, practically dusty. He asked if you were alright, a hand coming to your back with large claws gently scratching.

“Yeah I will be.” you lifted your head, waiting.

Both of his eyebrows rose, unsure what you were waiting on.

Complete surrender. “Good night kiss.” You had to stretch to meet his lips before settling back into his chest, “okay bore me to sleep with your day, sinner.” He gladly did, you falling asleep yet again to the sound of his slow heartbeat and the rumble of his words.

You awoke nauseous, already knowing your day was going to fucking suck and it’d be your own fault. The idea of approaching Alastor and initiating the conversation felt impossible, your feet became stone when you thought of it.

The coward’s option. Wait for time alone and then pace the library until he came to find you.

After an hour or so he did, smile brightening as he entered. “Should I summon the bar?”

You shook your head no, struggling to speak. He sat in his chair, book still on the small side table.

Heart pounding, you considered doing this another day or week or maybe year but knew you’d already lost so much time. “Alastor, I need to talk to you about my task.”

He snapped the book shut, eyes not leaving his hands. “Oh?”

“I need to leave the hotel or at least need serious time alone with someone. I need to change someone’s heart on true love. I can’t go home—,” you were cut off, Alastor standing quickly.

“Home?”

“Alastor.” You stood your ground even as his spine stretched and antlers widened.

“Your home is wherever I am.” A pained smile now, something akin to hurt in his eyes that did damage to you too. “Ah. So last night— and people say I’m cruel.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!”

A snap, his anger and desperation eclipsing his pain, “Why don’t you ever listen-,”

Your turn to cut him off, “Because you’re under a spell! You act so fucking tough like you’re in control all the time. But you’re not! It’s just the effect of the arrow.”

He laughed, but you kept going, “Don’t act like you’re sooo strong you can fight the effects of my shot. You don’t fucking love me. Not really, not naturally. It was an accident. You’re just— it’s been made by me. I don’t want it. I want something real and true.”

“My feelings are true, just let me speak. I can make you understand if you’d just listen to me.” Pupils like pins, teeth somehow sharper.

“Alastor you can’t have true love. Nothing triggered by my arrows can ever be true.”

Another ring of laughter, “Tell me then how your true love is different than mine, Oh Wise Cupid.”

You huffed, “Don’t talk down to me, radio demon. True love means caring deeply for someone else that occupies your heart and mind-,” he opened his mouth, looking around the room for where you found the audacity but you snapped twice to get his attention back, “not just that! You put them first without fear because if they truly love you they would never take advantage of that. It’s trusting them with the most fragile parts of yourself. It's a best friend. Someone who makes you feel like a better version of you, makes you want to always be improving yourself.”

Alastor was still smug, staring at you from his unnervingly demonic height, “Lovely! Last question, expert, is true love ever one sided?”

You thought for a beat, “It can be.”

He hummed, body swiftly resuming his smaller but, again, still too tall scale, antlers remaining fierce as his sinister smile dropped to just a small upward turn of his lips. “I see. You’ve truly enlightened me. I believe you.” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on you.

You rolled your eyes and licked your lips to go off when a portal opened beside you.

Heaven was just beyond the shining circle.

You looked from Alastor to the circular doorway, taking small steps towards it. Your hand pressed through, confusion wiping your own smugness off your face.

Alastor began a mocking slow clap. “I’ve been convinced. Happy now? Task complete.”

“But- the love Mania causes…It clouds the mind, you can’t even process the idea of true love properly.” You searched the floor for some clarity.

His hands stopped, eyebrows meeting his bangs as a laugh that started typically but quickly morphed into maniacal filled the room. You just kept pushing your hand in and out of the portal. Alastor finally quieted, antlers fully drawn back into little prongs. He stared at you. A shiver as his smile reached his ears. That look again. You took a deep breath, ready to be eaten.

“Your little arrow didn’t pierce me, you glorious fool. It literally fell into my pocket. I was never under the effects of your magic. I said that many times.” He straightened out his suit jacket, “Very plainly, might I add. You just never listened to me. So sure you knew better than I did.”

You sputtered, too many thoughts trying to express themselves, “Why did you act like that then?!”

“Because I wanted you. Something something first sight, as I recall the adage goes.” He crossed his arms and looked at his claws, “Perhaps my love happens to be manic by default. I am a murderous overlord, darling.”

All the energy left your body, shoulders relaxing. “Oh.”

“So, here I am,” he opened his arms, “trusting you to not hurt me any further today. Does that fall into your narrow view of true love?”

A good question. You shifted your weight onto your other foot, looking back at heaven. You could see the shining gates.

He sighed and brought his arms down, “I can’t promise how long I’ll let you stand there and look at anything other than me.”

A warning.

A deep breath, another shift onto your other foot again as you shook the anxiety out of your hands before finally making eye contact with him, “Well, eldritch horror, prove it.”

You heard the door lock from across the room.

You decided heaven could wait. It took about two days before they seemed to notice you hadn’t entered the portal, which closed on its own some time between Alastor pushing you onto the floor and you begging him for more. Luckily St. Peter wasn’t privy to your escapades.

It was a fact Sera was aware you had completed your task, because a knock came to the library door on that second day after you did so. Entering without waiting for a reply, which was brave, Lucifer and his hat popped into the room.

“Heeeey giiiirl. I got a message from heaven asking what’s the hold up, worried you were incapacitated.”

From your seat in Alastor’s lap you lowered your book, “How nice of them to suddenly care about my well-being.” You brought the book back up, “Little late.”

He nodded, “Uh huh, uh huh. Yeah I can understand that. Sooo,” his fingers tapped the door, “What should I reply with?”

Alastor turned the page and hummed a reply, “Finders Keepers.”

ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan

@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re

@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp

@sugurubabe , @zzzykiek , @phamtasic

#alastor smut #alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader smut

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voxslays · 3 days ago

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HAZBIN MEN AS DADS

Featuring >>> Adam, Alastor, Angel Dust (Anthony), Lucifer, Husk, Vox, & Valentino x Reader (Separately) as fathers.

(not proofread if that wasn’t obvious lol)

Adam:

Total boy dad. I can see him with a little girl, (let’s be honest, his daughter would 100% become an exorcist and take over after he retires as commander (if he ever retires lol)), but he would turn his son into the the next exorcist commander.

Adam is definitely a bit misogynistic…and no matter what you do, atleast a little bit of that would be passed down to your child. If Adam had a son (not him already having two other sons…), he would start training him at a very young age. (Kinda like the career tributes from the hunger games if yk what I mean.)

With a girl, I can 100% see him being overly protective TO THE EXTREME. He’s the type to scare off teenage boys lol.

Alastor:

Is probably the best dad on this list (except for Luci ofc.) Is super protective of his family. Would not let your baby out of his sight for the first few weeks. Would offer to help you with the baby when it wakes up crying late at night.

Is totally a girl dad. He would willingly play dress up and have tea parties with her in her room…but it will not be mentioned outside of there. When going out for an outing, he would dress her up to match his colors—red & black—and give you a few extra minutes to get ready.

The two of you want some alone time? He’ll ask Rosie. If she’s busy he is forcing either Husk or Niffty to watch the child. Alastor also most definitely keeps your young, innocent child away from Angel Dust for ‘reasons’ he doesn’t want to elaborate on. Your child will inherit his powers and will be almost as strong as him one day!

Husk:

Okay…so first of all, the elephant in the room. His alcoholism. I don’t think Husk would completely stop drinking, but would tone it down for the sake of you and your child. When he’s drinking/drunk, he would make sure he wasn’t around your child, not wanting that kid to see the ‘real’ him.

He would totally be a girl dad. He would completely deny it but we all know it’s true. Like Alastor, if your daughter wanted him to dress up, have a tea party with him, etc. I think it would take a little more convincing than Alastor but in the end he would do it.

Would be overly protective. ESPECIALLY AROUND ALASTOR. Husk would make sure that your child was atleast six feet away from the deer demon at all times. Husk obviously has lots of experience with Alastor as a person, so he of all people knows that Alastor could (and maybe would???) manipulate his spawn into a deal.

Angel Dust:

Angel is extremely excited…but…He is nervous. VERY anxious.

Angel would be a good dad, but he is worried about his deal with Val. Who knows what Val would do if he found out he was in another relationship…let alone with a child! When the child in question is born, he does everything in his power to hide them from Val.

If Val found out, he would be pissed. After calming down (barely), he would try to get your child under contract to punish Angel. Therefore, Angel is obviously very protective. Angel would teach your child how to be street-smart and survive on the streets of hell. Your child would learn from Angel’s mistakes.

Lucifer:

WHAT? HES GONNA BE A DAD (again)!? He is so stoked. Before the baby is even born they have everything they could ever want. Anything for his little duckling.

Your child would be homeschooled, but not by you. By the most well-known and well-educated members of Hell’s society. Your child is truly getting a million dollar education. Oh! And if your child decides to get a higher education after high school? It’s already taken care of. Lucifer makes sure that there are schools ready to take your child to college before your baby even turns two!

For some characters, I feel like they would either be girl dads or boy dads, but Lucifer could truly be either. With a little girl, I could totally see him playing dress up or Barbies with her, no problem! With a boy, same thing.

Vox:

Your child hit the jackpot. I mean…who wouldn’t want the richest overlord in all of pride to be their father? I just pray the kid doesn’t come out looking like a leapfrog or iPad…

Your child would be an iPad kid (vPad?) They would have all the newest technology and toys, they wouldn’t even know what to do with it all! Seriously though, this kid 100% has a playroom just filled with all the toys Vox either made or bought for them. He definitely spoils them (and you).

Your kid is a nepo baby. As they get into their teenage years, Vox would make sure they started to gain fame. Whether it’s by singing or acting (or both), or becoming a powerful overlord like himself, Vox would help them reach that.

Both you and Vox would make sure that your baby is supervised around Val and Velvette, if Vox even lets the kid around Valentino. He does NOT want Valentino trying to swindle them into a deal.

Valentino:

Bestie...What were you thinking? Let’s be honest. Valentino would not be the greatest dad. Definitely not the worst, but not great.

He would 100% leave your kid unsupervised. You’d better always be watching because he definitely isn’t. Speaking of supervision, Val would just randomly bring your child into his studio…When the two of you are spending ‘time’ together, he would either get Vel or Vox to watch the baby, or one of the souls he has under contract. Is surprisingly overprotective.

Val would teach make sure your child knows Spanish, threatening to ‘disown the brat’ if they refused. Luckily, you are there to stop Valentino from going off on your baby. Your child definitely learns a few Spanish swears from him.

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hxney-lemcn · 6 days ago

Text

How Was Your Day? — Cater Diamond x gn! reader

summery: you help Cater open up to you a bit more.

tw: hurt/comfort.

wc: 1.1k

Master List

It was so silly. You felt like you were living the most cliche scenario in the world. You had a crush on your best friend. Could you really be blamed? Not only was Cater drop dead gorgeous, but he always made you feel included and seen. There was just one thing that itched at you. You wished he would open up to you a bit more. No matter what, there felt like a barrier between you both, something that kept you from getting any closer to seeing the full painting that was Cater Diamond. You could only really see the surface, the pretty colors and beautiful framing, hiding the gritty reality that laid beneath.

You wanted to dig deeper, to truly dissect the meaning behind Cater. He was your friend, and you felt foolish that you fell for the glitz and the glamor instead of his true self. Or that’s how you felt at least. You had managed to catch glimpses of his softer moments, moments where you were feeling down. Where he’d dim down his outgoing personality and try to make you laugh with either memes he found or acting silly. And if that didn’t work? He’d listen to your complaints, only giving advice if you ask.

It was only a glimpse, though, as those moments seemed far and few in between. Putting on his cheery smile and flash of the camera. Maybe you were being selfish, but it almost hurt, knowing that Cater didn’t seem to trust you enough to show you all of himself when he’s seen you at your worst. That he can see you cry and complain, but thinks you’d mind if he did the same. You only wanted to be there for him like he was for you, to show him that he wasn’t a problem, even if he wasn’t super bubbly or outgoing.

It seemed like you were going to get what you wished sooner than you expected.

You hadn’t meant to stumble upon him in such a vulnerable moment. You just wanted to spend some time with your bestie/crush, knocking on his door before entering. You paused midstep, noticing a lump under the blankets on Cater’s bed, ginger hair barely peeking out.

“Cater?” You called out cautiously, clicking the door closed behind you. He only shuffled further into his cocoon, not acknowledging your presence. Gosh, as much as you wanted him to open up, you were unsure of how to proceed, but one thing was for sure. You were not just going to let him stew alone.

So as gracefully as you could (quite awkwardly in all honesty), you took a seat next to where he laid, hand hesitantly reaching out to pat his form. No words were said as you stroked Cater’s back, trying to think of what to say or ask.

”Do you want to talk about it?” You settled on asking.

”I’m sorry,” Cater mumbled, you could barely hear it through the thick fabric that covered him.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked softly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

It was silent for a few seconds before Cater mumbled brokenly, “I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

You felt your heart break, a heavy pit filling your stomach. Cater shouldn’t hold his feelings in like this, especially when he has people willing to lend a shoulder…like you.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” You replied without hesitation. “I care about you, Cater. If you’re ever feeling down you can always come to me, I’ll always be here for you.”

Cater was hesitant to peek his head out of the safety of his blankets, but the sweetness of your words had his chest aching, a bittersweet feeling spreading through him. On one hand, you were saying things he had longed to hear for so long, but on the other it felt completely wrong for you to see him as anything else but happy and cheerful.

His emerald eyes peaked at you, the lower half of his face still covered, red locks of hair falling in his face, “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” You scolded gently. “Am I a burden when I’m not feeling good?”

”Of course not,” Cater frowned from beneath the blanket.

“So what makes you the exception?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cater opened his mouth, reflexively ready to insult himself…but he couldn’t actually think of a proper rebuttal. You had actually managed to stump him. He looked so disheartened and hopeful at the same time.

“Even if I don’t actually like all the things I say I do? Even though I lie to you all about who I am?”

“Even then,” You agreed, scrounging any confidence you had left in you, you raised a shaky hand to run it through his hair. It seemed like that was the right thing to do as Cater’s eyes shut in a look of bliss, unconsciously leaning his head into your hand.

“Y’know you don’t have to lie about all that stuff, right?” You asked softly, scratching his scalp gently. “Who cares if you like spicy over sweet, it won’t change how much I love you.”

“Thank you,” Cater murmured with a content sigh, nuzzling his head into your thigh, soaking in your affection.

“Of course,” You murmured back, admiring the way his hair framed his face so prettily…only to be surprised when his perfectly manicured hand reached out from beneath the blankets and wrapped around your torso, dragging you to lay down beside him. You felt your face flush from being so close, his faint freckles more visible from this distance.

“I…” Cater spoke out, tongue thick with emotion. Those three words you said so easily felt like a ton of bricks that he just couldn’t cough up, but he wanted to oh so desperately at that moment. You watched on in concern as Cater’s face contorted into what looked semi-painful, like he was struggling with a thought.

”I love you too,” Cater managed to push out, eyeing you with anxiety and vulnerability. Your eyes widened, before it clicked that you had said those words mere minutes ago, you hadn’t even realized those words slipped past your lips, but you had meant them wholeheartedly.

You relaxed in his hold, resting your head on his shoulder, “Hmmm, well too bad I love you more.”

Cater let out a short giggle, nuzzling into your hair, the both of you drowning in butterflies. It was a rainy moment turned sunny, the two of you basking in the glow of the other's love. Sure, the problem wasn’t solved and Cater would still have to work on opening up to you, but it was a start, and you’d be by his side supporting him through all his ups and downs.

#❥ • my works #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst wonderland x reader #cater diamond x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #cater diamond #x reader

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nxuvillette · 1 year ago

Text

“BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE!”

SPENDING CHRISTMAS W/ TR MEN

synopsis: spending the holidays with your boyfriend is like a dream come true.

❥- including : baji keisuke, kazutora hanemiya, chifuyu matsuno

❥- note : decided to write something sweet for christmas coming up !! also new theme.. so new post colors :> ! i hope you guys enjoy, reblogs are appreciated <;3.

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, fluff, christmas activities, mentions of food (baji + chifuyu), use of pet names (babe , baby , princess), tooth rotting fluff.

♡ BAJI KEISUKE

you were honestly super excited that baji suggested building gingerbread houses together for christmas. you had seen many couples partake in the activity and now that you were in a relationship, you wanted to try it out.

baji came over with all of the supplies you needed. he even suggested that you two make little gingerbread men to live in your little houses together. he honestly thought it was super fun decorating their faces with different gumdrops and drawing on their smiles with delicious frosting. it was fun. both of you were having such a fun time doing it that you made multiple gingerbread men and you had even made them girlfriends to have. baji thought it was a cute addition.

it was all fun and games until you and baji got to the house making part.

neither of you expected it to be so complicated and so.. messy. there was frosting all over your fingers and the parts of the houses kept collapsing or caving in whenever you moved your fingers away. there were a few times that he thought it would stick together, but in the end, he was met with the same fate of the pieces falling apart and onto the placemat on the table.

although it wasn’t you thought it would be, you two were still having fun. you would both laugh whenever a piece of the houses would rip over or when the pieces of candy wouldn’t stick long enough. it was hilarious to both of you, so that’s why you continued trying to perfect the houses. baji kept making the same comment that the gingerbread men can’t be homeless and even if the house was falling apart they needed a roof over their heads. you had to agree with him on that.

after almost two hours of working, you both got your houses into decent condition. it was messy and didn’t look anything like the picture on the box, but you still had so much fun regardless. you two were honestly proud that you didn’t give up halfway through and throw them away.

“well, we did our best!” baji exclaimed, popping one of the many gumdrops into his mouth.

you couldn’t help but laugh at how they looked, but what he said was true. “i agree!” you then came over beside him to take a photo of the houses.

baji snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. he dragged his thumb along the corner of your lip to wipe off the excess frosting. “had a little somethin’ there..” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss onto you.

you couldn’t hide your grin, brushing your fingers through his hair. he honestly loved when you did that. your fingers always felt so nice threaded through his locks, brushing against his scalp. he could fall asleep like that if he wanted to. “i love you..” you whispered, looking into his chocolate brown eyes.

he squeezed your body against him, bringing you closer. “i love you more, baby, don’t you forget that.” he intertwined his fingers with yours, spreading his warmth onto your hand.

♡ KAZUTORA HANEMIYA

it was actually your idea to go out and see christmas lights with kazutora. there was a festival that was planning a lighting ceremony and you decided to go with him. both of you were really excited, considering it was your first christmas together as a couple.

you bundled up in your winter clothes. it was going to be a chilly night, but neither of you minded the cold if it meant you got to be together when you saw the lights. it wasn’t a far drive at all and there were a lot of people who were waiting to see the christmas tree shine. the sheer winter wind nipped at your exposed skin, which brought you closer to your boyfriend. kazutora had a tight hold on your body, making sure that you weren’t shivering. he’d hate to see you feeling any kind of cold.

soon enough, the tree was lit. multicolored lights were laced around the trees branches, making them twinkle in your eyes. kazutora couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you gleaming like a small child at the pretty tree. you looked so cute. he just couldn’t help but admire you in the glow of the lights.

you then walked along the sidewalks, pointing at the different trees and bushes that had lights strung along their leaves. you and kazutora had even taken a few photos along the way. he loved nothing more than to spend time with you, even if that meant his toes were numb. you never failed to make him happy and that’s why spending holidays with you felt so special. you made them just a little more exciting than it usually would be.

kazutora held your hand as you both viewed the different houses in the neighborhood. some people had decorated their houses beautifully. “baby, look! that snowman is adorable!” you pointed at the glowing decor with a smile on your face.

he chuckled when his eyes focused on it. he had an image flow into his head. it was of you and him together in the future when you had your own house together. you’d be decorating the front yard with too many lights to count and you would have the brightest house on the block. he could never say no to you.

“looks cute, princess, just like you.” he kissed your cheek, making your face turn warm from the sudden contact.

you shivered at the sudden gust of wind that danced through the air. the temperature had dropped even lower than it had originally started at during the beginning of the evening. “i don’t mean to c-cut it short but can we go home? i-i’m freezing!” you looked at your boyfriend apologetically.

kazutora draped his arm around your shoulder, pecking your lips in the process. “of course, babe. maybe we can make some hot chocolate when we get home, yeah?” he nodded, to which you agreed eagerly.

♡ CHIFUYU MATSUNO

you were excited that evening to spend time with your boyfriend for a little christmas date. he had been talking about it for weeks. chifuyu planned every little thing and he was so ecstatic to have you come over and be with him. he had even gotten you both matching pajamas to snuggle up in.

when you arrived, you were hit with the aroma of food and you saw what your boyfriend had done for you.

chifuyu had bought an abundance of snacks and drinks for you two. he had quite literally gone all out for you and it made you so happy. there hadn’t been a single man in your life that would do something like that for you. it honestly made you fall for chifuyu even harder than you already had before. he had this smile on his face and he looked so handsome in his pajamas.. even if there was a snowman on the shirt.

the two of you cuddled up on the couch with many blankets and watched classic christmas movies together. the food he brought was honestly great too. pizza, cookies, candy canes, he had even made hot chocolate with those extra large marshmallows that could hardly fit in the mug. it was absolutely perfect.

with the food and how late it was, you found yourself becoming sleepy. you had quite the busy day and relaxing with chifuyu was only making you want to drift off and sleep for as long as you could. he could sense by your hums and droopy eyes that you were indeed exhausted, so he decided to take you upstairs to his room so you could both retire for the evening in there.

“tired, huh?” chifuyu asked, lying down beside you in bed.

you had your eyes closed, but you nodded in response. “yeah.. i was so busy today..” you scooched closer to your boyfriend to feel his arms wrap around your body.

he pecked the top of your head, tucking you underneath his chin so you were resting against his chest. he smiled to himself at your sleepy form. you were so cute. there were so many reasons for him to love you, and this was just one of them. “goodnight, baby.. i love you.” he rested his chin atop the crown of your head.

a light snore came from your lips, making him laugh through his nose. he couldn’t imagine spending christmas with anyone else but you by his side.

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ official work !#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x you #baji keisuke x reader #baji x reader #baji fluff #kazutora hanemiya x reader #kazutora x reader #kazutora fluff #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu fluff

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calliopeslyrics · 5 months ago

Text

the wonder of you

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Ares!reader

word count: 5.9k

warnings: none :)

summary: capture the flag is a big deal to you, too bad luke keeps trying to distract you.

There’s a scent of fear and something stronger in the air when you step foot onto the field, your armor clad body already sweaty under the sweltering summer sun. Everyone is mingling, talking amongst their teams though the snippets of conversation you caught were about anything but Capture the Flag.

Army….monsters….Kronos

There was something else on everyone's minds these past couple of weeks, the lingering anxiety over a war that was supposedly brewing unbeknownst to anyone in Camp Half Blood and Mount Olympus. The oracle had given a cryptic prophecy, though the exact words were lost within the translations from story to story depending on the camper you asked.

Some of the Hermes children had heard that there was a host body that was slowly resurrecting the titan king himself, slowly gathering bits and pieces of bodies in order to resurrect his body. Mr. D was quick to shut that rumor down, threatening the next person who spread another rumor with a month’s worth of chores.

Other children of Apollo theorized that the oracle was not speaking of a war but another sibling rivalry between the gods, the kind that had Zeus throwing tantrums in the form of thunderstorms and Poseidon flooding cities out of pure pettiness. The only son of Poseidon was also quick to shut that idea down, claiming his own dreamless nights as proof that the gods were fine and didn’t need help.

Regardless of who you asked, the unspoken worries were evident - a war among the gods was brewing. A shiver went down your spine at the mere thought of fighting a war with these campers - most of them too young to even drive yet but not young enough to wield a sword, to kill and die for a taste of glory.

A horn sounded and both teams roared in response, clanking their weapons against their shields in response to the horn. Beside you, Clarisse clanged her spear against the ground, the familiar crackling of electricity stemming from the tip. A gift from your father, the god of War, though lately his true colors had been showing.

Ares had been silent these past couple of months, hiding away from the prayers and pleas of his children for Gods know what. It wasn’t unlike him to be absent in his children’s lives but this type of silence was worrying, especially for the god who loved to taunt. The Aphrodite cabin had the same trouble, and the only common theory both cabins could come up with was that Ares and Aprodite were swindling together.

But days turned to weeks and when the weeks turned to months, both cabins suspected there was something more sinister happening. Ares was never at the forefront of a battlefield, but he was always present when a fight was happening. And if he wasn’t showing up for the brawls within Camp Half Blood, you could only guess what bigger fight your father was preparing for in Mount Olympus.

The sound of Chiron’s monotonous voice pulled you out of your worried thoughts. It was the same as every year, with him repeating the rules of Capture the Flag and putting emphasis on the no maiming rule with a pointed glare. Your team murmured in response, unhappy with the calling out of who was responsible for last year’s punishment. Though it was partially your fault for targeting the new kid from the Apollo cabin, Chiron’s rules were the last thing on your mind.

You’ve been having vivid dreams for the past couple of days - dreams that felt so real you were unsure if you were living through them or not. No one knew of them, not even Chiron or Mr. D. You weren’t sure why you were hiding these dreams from everyone, perhaps in fear of what exactly your dreams entailed or in fear of what will happen after they’re revealed.

A battlefield stood before you, barren yet the wind that blew past you sounded eerily like the clanging of swords against shields. If you listened closely, you could hear commands being shouted in ancient greek. The ground was stained with the blood of men who were born and died long before Camp Half Blood was founded - when wild men and beasts fought on the same land.

The land before you came alive, the ground soaking with blood as the sound of shattering bones and groans of agony echoed throughout the space. Somewhere above you a vulture circled the air, hissing in warning. Everything within you was warning you of something - a monster of some sort, maybe from the depth of Tartarus.

Bones rattled around you, bodies with missing bones and parts forming into a legion. Skulls found a spine which found femurs and humeruses. One by one, soldiers stood in formation until an army of the undead was complete. A soldier clad in armor stood before you, armor polished and muscled body - a general of some sorts or maybe someone higher in command.

Primal fear coursed through your body as he glowered down at you, shadows casting over his face. You knew who he was, what this person was capable of doing. Scars littered this body, deep slashes and shallow cuts adorning along the arms and legs of the soldier but the face was completely clean - as if no one could come close.

The lord of bloodshed, the curse of mortals incarnate, the god of war - Ares.

You kneeled before your father, bowing your head slightly to the ground in greeting. He barely glanced in your direction, an acknowledgement and dismissal. ``You’re not ready,” he said gruffly, smoke puffing out of his mouth. You scrunched your nose in distaste at the cloud of smoke, the smell of burnt cigarettes lingering in the air.

Ares was never much of a talker, more of a man that spoke with fists and blood than words. Violence was his specialty, as it was with you and Clarisse and all of your half blooded siblings. But still, the bluntness of his words never ceased to have you stewing in a bad mood for the next few days and you found that you’ve inherited his harsh way with words.

“You’ve ignored me for so long, what make you think I’ll listen to your opinion of my readiness?” You scoffed, a little too boldly for your father’s liking. You stayed on your knees, though you raised your gaze to the god of war. His jaw clenched and his hand curled into a fist at the disrespect, but he didn’t strike.

Ares ignored your question, hardened eyes gazing past you. His focus was somewhere else, analyzing the battlefield with the gaze of an experienced general. Centuries of war and bloodshed flashed through his face - regret, anger, pain flickering in his eyes.

You’ve never seen your father experience such emotions in a short amount of time. He was always hot headed, with a clenched jaw and sharp tongue that often got himself in more trouble than he could handle. But he was never remorseful, never apologized for what he said or did or hurt.

“I know when my soldiers are ready,” he said, voice laced with the sternness of a general. You tried to mask your face with a mask of boredom, though his words stung. Soldiers, not children. Even after being claimed you could never get your father’s approval, not even after all this time.

Still, you were your father’s daughter - you’re stubborn and hot headed and brash. Backing away from fights was not your strong suit, so you stood up on your own accord and straightened your back. “I’m ready,” you said confidently, maybe too confidently for someone who loses sleep over nightmares.

Ares barely gave you a passing glance, a half scoff escaping his lips. More smoke filled the air and burned your lungs, but you didn’t complain. Ares didn’t like whiny losers. “You’re weak - worthless,” he grunted, the grip on his spear tightening. The muscles in his arms bulged at the slightest movement, and it took every part of you to avoid staring at the deep gashes along his biceps. “Not even close to reaching your potential.”

You scowled at his words, at the cold bluntness in his tone. Never in your life had someone speak to you that way, with such little interest. “I’m not sure I’m following…” you said, daring to glance away from your father. The vulture at his feet stared at you, its beady eyes staring deep into your soul and very being.

“The greatest warriors didn’t need an extra push from their parents to be as great as they are now,” Ares said gruffly, . The soldiers behind him didn’t even budge from their positions, unfazed of the dispute before them. Maybe their physical forms were present but they needed directions in order to move, as if they were nothing more than puppets for your father to use as he pleased.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. You didn’t like how Ares was speaking to you, like you were benched for your lack of participation. Sure, you haven’t gone on an extreme quest to gain greatness in a while but you’ve been beating your own record at target practice with all the weapons available.

“Achilles was training under Chiron before he fought in the Trojan War,” you pointed out. You remembered Chiron’s bedtime stories to the younger campers, of all the heroes he’d trained centuries ago. The Athena cabin had hosted a trivia night a couple months ago, and the Ares cabin had gotten a decent amount of points in the Ancient Battlegrounds and Armory topics.

Ares rolled his eyes at the mention of the Greek hero. It was clear his grudge against the Greek army still hadn’t faded away even after all these years. “And then he refused to challenge Hector because he was too cowardly to fight,” he added snarkily, disgust evident on his face.

You searched your brain for more heroes, more stories that had victory in some sort of way. Death, failure, cursed forever, there weren’t many, and you hated your ancestry for that. “Didn’t Heracules have multiple trainers?” you crossed your arms. You had also recalled the countless stories of Greek heroes Chiron had drilled into your heads.

Ares clicked his tongue, as if he suddenly remembered the name. You are sure that he didn’t even remember your name, though you tried not to think negatively about the deity before you. “Ah, was that before or after he slaughtered his family and cowardly ran away from his actions,” he tilted his head, glaring down at you with the same beady eyes as the vulture. He shared the same wild look in his eyes, the patience to wait for death to strike his prey.

A shiver ran down your spine, though you held his stare. You wondered if he could sense the confusion and hesitation within you,or if he counted it as fear. If they both made an adrenaline course through your veins, did it really matter?

Did this conversation even matter? Slight annoyance surged through you, at this useless dream your father decided to join. He’d been silent for so long only to come back and talk about how worthless you are. “Why are you telling me this? What’s the point?” you asked, exhaustion evident in your tone. You supposed having a war of attrition with the god of war wouldn’t go well on your part. A small part of you knew that your father thought the same.

For once, Ares didn’t scoff or roll his eyes at your question. He seemed surprised at your question, as evident by the slight raise of an eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t used to being questioned, or maybe he expected more of a fight from you. “Every hero has a weakness. It’s inevitable.” he said sternly.

You faltered. Was that what this was all about? Weakness? A small pang of hurt echoed in your chest - did Ares think you were that weak? Was he so concerned about your mortality that he had to warn you to be extra safe?

“I don’t have a weakness,” you huffed, crossing your arms stubbornly. You prided yourself in handing out more punches than receiving them, especially when sibling rivalry peaks during competitive seasons. “Achilles had his heel and pride, Heracules was a coward, Jason was unloyal. But I’m not like them - I’m better-”

“You’re not,” Ares interrupted, his spear crackling with power. You stared at the sheer power your father held, even in his mortal form he still exuded raw power and authority. If this much power made your body tremble, you could only imagine how Zeus was. “But I don’t want you to be exploited,” he said.

You faltered at his words. Ares cared, in his sick and twisted way, about you. He didn’t want his own kin to share the same fate as the reckless heroes from the past, not when he has greater expectations. Something like pride swelled within you - the same pride that killed Achilles. “I won’t let anyone close enough to exploit my weakness.”

“Keep it that way,” Ares nodded in what seemed like approval. You wondered if he would ever utter the words I’m proud of you in his lifetime, or if this was as close as you would get. You didn’t bother asking, not wanting to push your luck with your father.

With a click of its beak, the vulture took to the sky, circling you from above. Ares turned his attention to the army of dead soldiers and gave them a salute. The soldiers saluted back and turned to their heels, slowly walking back into the very dirt that had buried them for centuries.

The smell of smoke and burning flesh burned your nose and lungs, but you could still sense Ares somewhere. He wasn’t gone yet but he was leaving, just like that. Panic swarmed your head, he couldn’t leave not when he’s been missing for weeks now. “Wait! Don’t go!” You called out, taking a step forward. Your foot stayed stuck in the dirt, keeping you in place as you struggled to walk towards the god of war. “Please! Don’t leave!”

The desperation in your voice must’ve been evident because Ares turned around, giving you an almost sympathetic look. It looked equally as intimidating as his war face, canines on display and wild eyes staring right at you. Perhaps it wasn’t a look of sympathy but of mercy, the kind you give to a soldier choking on their own blood on the battlefield before ending his misery.

“I’ll be back when you win,” Ares promised. His spear crackled once more in response before he disappeared completely, leaving nothing but giant footprints in his place.

A hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts, and you jumped at the sudden attention. Beside you was your half sister Clairesse, her shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders to prominently display her tanned arms. Her muscles flexed with each movement, her casual movements turned into threatening actions.

“You ready?” Clairesse asked, her eyes practically glittening with excitement. She had also had some dreams, though hers were more promising. Apparently Clairesse had seen your father and promised him victory for today’s game. Ares gave her no response, but the determined look in your sister’s eyes gave you confidence for today’s game.

You nodded, schooling your face into a look of confidence despite the sweat that slipped down your face. Gods, you hated the heat more than the miserable cold that winter always brought. You tried not to think about Ares’ words to you - when you win. Another giant weight on your shoulders, as if this wasn’t enough. “Did Dad give you any sign this morning?” you asked, glancing over at your team.

There seemed to be more campers this year than any other - a sign that Chrion took as the Gods accepting more of their children into their lives. While some demigods were excited to be claimed, others were weary of the sudden change of heart of the once negligent Olympians. You didn’t complain, though. The Ares cabin had been thriving with the influx of newly claimed siblings and as a result, your team seemed bigger than it was last year.

Clairesse shifted her weight from one foot to another, the only hint of nervousness she’d show. You took her silence as a no and moved your attention to your armor, double checking each strap and handle to avoid the awkwardness of the conversation.

The children of Ares were never good with their words, preferring to show their emotions through physical means regardless of how lighthearted the emotions really were. It was as much as a gift as it was a curse, and you could only blame your cowardly father for granting you emotional instability as part of your heritage.

Your armor was strapped tight, hanging onto your body as the worn leather burned in the sunlight. It was centuries old, scratches and slight holes denting through the front layer, though you doubted you’d need the protection. The center of your leather plated chestpiece spray painted red, as if your team’s intimidating aura wasn’t enough to indicate which side you were on.

Across from you was the opposing team, their leather armor marked in blue as they stood in perfect formation. They were always the more organized team between you two, thanks to their team leaders that kept everyone in shape just for this moment. Amongst the crowd of young campers, you could spot Luke standing front and center, flanked by Annabeth Chase of the Athena cabin.

You could see the girl point to her temple, giving Luke a knowing smile and nod of approval at something he had said. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Luke in his armor, his helmet barely covering his face that you knew had a determined look. He always took Capture the Flag as seriously as any other child of Ares and Athena, always determined to prove himself again and again as the best swordsman and maybe something more.

As if sensing your stare, Luke glanced over Annabeth’s shoulder, a small smile creeping onto his face as he caught your gaze. You flushed at his gaze but blamed the heat. Luke was more of a headache to you than a friend, though he was one of the older campers that was more similar in age to you than anyone else.

You smiled back at Luke, cracking your knuckles in response and pointing at Luke in case he didn’t get the hint. Luke chuckled, his helmet shaking slightly at your threat. A sense of pride filled your chest at making Luke break the character of the serious camp counselor of the Hermes cabin, a feat only few could claim as a success.

As usual, the Aphrodite cabin was in charge of leading the opponents frontline men away from the flag, taking them as far as they could before raising suspicion. Those who could charmspeak or change appearances were spread out within your ranks while the others followed their head camper’s lead towards your fake flag.

Your cabin, the Ares cabin, was on the front lines, as always. Armed with magic weapons and a madness that could only happen during the heat of battle, the children of Ares were always theIf anyone could get past the Athenan and Hermes children. The brutes of Cabin 5, you called yourselves with pride.

Clarisse glanced over at you, smirking at you as everyone got into position. Her spear crackled with electricity, the prominent tip glowing in warning and promise of pain. “Don’t get cold feet now,” she teased, her voice full of confidence. Her eyes seemed to glow with excitement, the mere thought of knocking down campers without repercussion always gave the children of Ares more of a reason to look forward to this event - this time even more so.

Today was a big deal, both to the reigning champs of the previous years and the reigning losers of your team. Today, you’d turn the tide, claiming victory over capturing the flag for the first time in three years. Your cabin needed to win, you needed to win. The Ares cabin needed to prove themselves worthy of your father’s attention once more after that embarrassing loss the year before to the huntresses of Artemis.

You remembered the way your father ignored every prayer and offering sent to him, how the Ares Cabin became the laughing stock of camp once your siblings started to lose at even the most basic camp games. Capture the Flag, sparring exercises, even sharpening your weapons seemed to be a harder task than usual.

You knew your role, it was the same one as last year and the year before that - find Luke and prevent him from advancing. It was easier said than done - children of Hermes were always the first to race across the map, quick and nimble on their feet. And you knew Luke would lead his group towards your side of the forest, using his winged shoes to give him the advantage of speed.

The sound of a horn sounded for a second time - the final warning before the game would start- and you sucked in a small breath as you heard the distant rumbling of your siblings and teammates racing to their positions. While Clarisse and the rest of the more aggressive demigods cut a clear path to the blue team’s site, you’d take a detour towards Luke’s site and keep him distracted until your team claimed victory.

Easier said than done.

Without a second to spare, you sprinted towards Luke’s direction, following him into the entrance of the forest. He was already way ahead of you, zig zagging through the trees and brush as you ran behind him, laughing mockingly at your speed. The fluttering of his winged shoes trailed ahead, almost a distant sound until you could catch up - another rub in your face at your slowness.

Luke’s red Converse was the only thing you could spot, a red blur that left you constantly looking around. Gods, he was fast. One second he was straight ahead then he was cutting left through the lake, his voice echoing from one side of the forest to the other.

You huffed at Luke’s speed but continued forward, your feet carrying you as fast as you could go towards the red shoes. Your armor bounced against your body, clashing against your own sword as you gained speed towards the bright red just up ahead.

Right as you approached the lake, you frowned. There was silence, an eerie emptiness surrounding you as if there was no one around. You held your breath, waiting for the flapping of the winged shoes to appear for you to follow once more, but the only other sound that accompanied you was the water gently crashing upon the shore. It was as if Luke was never there, the sand and rocks beneath your feet undisturbed save for your footprints.

A branch snapped somewhere behind you and you whirled around, sword in hand as you scanned your surroundings. There was no way Luke led you to a separate area, an alternate plan to the one your team had created. You grit your teeth in annoyance, blaming Annabeth Chase for thinking of a way to counter your plan.

Another branch snapped on your left and you turned around again, your sword humming to life at your growing annoyance. This couldn’t be Luke, he wasn’t the type to stalk and hide his opponents. Whoever this was, they were treating you like prey, as if you were the lesser one in this fight. If you couldn’t get a hit on this person, your heating sword would at least throw this person off your trail for a bit.

The next thing you knew, you were tackled to the ground, rolling into the lake with the attacker. Their arms wrapped around your back, holding you tightly against their body as you thrashed against their hold, cursing in Greek with every breath you could get out. You exchanged a series of punches and kicks with your attacker, both of you hitting the hard ground with each tumble you took until you finally landed into the water.

With a grunt, you lunged at the person, revenge the only thing on your mind. You toppled over the person, gripping their neck and giving it a threatening squeeze with all your strength. You didn’t care much for the rules, not when this punk - whoever they were - decided to embarrass you during your hunt.

“If I knew this was how you’d react to getting tripped, I would’ve done it sooner,” the culprit crooned, and you sneered at the amused tone of their voice. This had to be one of the Stoll brothers, you’d know that annoying tone anywhere. With no gentleness, you tugged their helmet off, not caring that your nails were basically scratching at their face. It’d be the least of their worries once you’re done with them.

Instead of meeting the gaze of one of the annoying Stoll brothers, you stared at Luke Castellan - your biggest headache in all of Camp Half Blood. With a scowl, you tossed Luke’s helmet at his face, ignoring the way your heart pounded wildly at his carefree smirk as he caught his helmet with one hand.

Gods, if he were some other camper they would’ve gotten a beating from you just for talking to you like that. But Luke? He was the exception, always. You don’t know when he started to be the only person you could tolerate, maybe it was when he first beat you at the sword fighting arena, maybe it was when you landed a blow to his face the first time you fought and he laughed at the bruise that formed days later.

All you did know is that he was just another person that annoyed you and maybe even a friend.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for that move, Castellan.” you warned, letting your hands drop to your side as you rose from the water. He only gave you a roll of his eyes and grinned at your words, as if he knew that he’d always be off the hook when it came to you. Without another word, you searched for your sword, hands searching along the shore at your feet for your blade.

Besides your quick temper, the only other gift you had gotten from your father was a sword that grew hot with your mood. It was efficient when you were in a bad mood, which hardly happened when you were teasing Luke during the games. He was your weakness, and a small part of you hated yourself for having one in the beginning.

The greatest heroes never had weaknesses, you told yourself. You reminded yourself of your conversation with Ares - Achilles, Hercules, Jason. They were arrogant and disrespected the gods. You were better than that, better than all of them combined. You had to be.

“All’s fair in love and war, right?” He smirked as he rose from the water, carefully wringing the water from his soaking curls. His armor and clothes clung to his body, giving you the exact shape of his arms, his chest, his everything. You bit the inside of your cheek from saying stupid and turned your attention to your missing sword.

It must’ve fallen from your grip while you were tumbling along the shore, humming somewhere beneath your feet. You felt the warmth of your blade and let out a small sigh of relief when you finally retrieved it, your blade slowly cooling with your mood. You’d have to clean it once you got back to your cabin, you thought more to yourself as you shook some of the water off of your sword. Maybe the Hephestus cabin can help with that, you thought bitterly.

“Too bad I don’t love you then,” you replied smoothly, wringing the water out of your hair. You tried to ignore the soaking feeling of your clothes sticking to your body and the added weight to your armor. Love was such a strong word, the most similar to your most commonly said word hate. Was all truly fair in love and war, even after everything your own father had gone through for the goddess of love?

Luke stayed silent, as if he didn’t have a response for once. You both let the drip, drip, drip of the water fall from your clothes, filling the silence. For once, you didn’t mind the quiet. There was something comforting in it, like you both didn’t need to say anything in order to keep each other company.

“You realize we’re the only ones here because our teams are trying to get us together, right?” Luke said, hands on his hips as he wrung the water out of his own clothes. You tried to ignore how close his shirt was to his torso, clingy desperately onto his toned chest and arms. Luke’s own cheeks flushed, whether from the fall or your attention you didn't know, but you didn’t comment on it.

You shrugged, huffing out a disbelieving laugh. You’d suspected that your teammates were up to something when they started to push for you to take a path on your own instead of leading your own unit like usual. But when Clarisse brought up that you wouldn’t need the campers to find Luke, you agreed. It seemed like a good point at the time but looking back, you could definitely see why she was so pushy to get you to go on a separate route where only Luke would be.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked, raising a brow at Luke. You busied yourself with the straps of your armor, checking the already tied straps for imaginary tears and rips along the fabric. Your hands shook at his words, at the implication of what he’s saying, at what your teams are plotting for both of you.

There was no way Luke caught onto this plan before you, not when he’s busy tending to claimed and unclaimed children most of the day. Not when he’s the first person to rise in the morning and the last to go to bed, going as far as to wish you goodnight while you finish your nightly workout. Not when his spot is always beside yours during the campfire sing-a-long and volunteers to be your partner during sparring lessons.

There was just no way, you told yourself. Luke is a headache, and nothing more.

As if he was reading your thoughts, Luke gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes at him. He was so annoying, with his stupid smirk and disarming laugh, but a small part of you didn’t mind that it was always directed towards you.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” he asked with a huff, cheeks reddened at your obliviousness - or was that from the heat? The more you teased and talked to Luke the more the lines blurred between you two. Did friends always make your heart skip a beat, especially when they made eye contact with you?

You shrugged, not trusting your own voice to carry an air of nonchalant when you didn’t even feel relaxed. The last thing you needed was to give Luke another reason to poke fun at you until you turned red.

“Go out with me,” he said softly, eyes full of hope. His teasing tone was gone, even his smirk was completely wiped. For a moment, you saw Luke’s true feelings, his mask wiped from his face for once - completely vulnerable and utterly smitten for a daughter of Ares.

You hummed in response, your own heart pounding wildly at his words. Was this what you wanted to hear after months of pining and teasing, of lingering glances and touches? You knew the answer, you knew what you wanted to say so badly.

But the game came first, you needed this win before you could do anything else in your life. There’d be no point in trying to live your life if Ares didn’t acknowledge you again. “Go out with me, what?” you asked, desperately trying to stall for time. Your team should’ve gotten the flag already, so why are they taking so long to come back?

“Please,” he breathed out, wasting no time by playing along. Your heart skipped a beat at his willingness to ask so softly and sweetly. Luke was too good for you, always the first one to lend a hand and the last one to ask for something in return.

You didn’t know how to phrase the words I’d like to. Everything within you was made to destroy, crafted with bloodied knuckles and never ending bruises. You were not sweet by any means, hardly like the smooth talking Aphrodite cabin or the eloquently spoken Apollo cabin. You were everything everyone hated about Ares, more fluent in violence than anything else.

But if Ares could find solace in the laughter loving goddess even if his scarred hands were harsher than her softened ones, you supposed you could find solace in Luke Castellan too.

Somewhere in the distance, people screamed in victory and a horn sounded. The thundering sound of weapons clanking against shields came closer and closer. Among the trees, you could spot a blue flag held up high as surrounding campers cheered and barked in celebration. Your team had gotten the flag - the Ares cabin had redeemed themselves once more.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you watched your half siblings celebrate in victory. Among the already forming crowd was Clarisse, electric spear in the air as she let out a war cry. The campers with red painted armor followed her cry and raised their own weapons in the air, the sound of dozens of demigods yelling out echoing throughout the forest.

“Ask me that tomorrow,” you said softly, fixing your gaze back to Luke. The softness in his features were replaced with confusion, his brows furrowing and a small frown tugging at his lips instead of his smile. It took almost all of your willpower not to laugh at the sudden change of his expression.

“Tomorrow?” he sighed in disbelief, defeat in his eyes at your statement. You nodded, amused at his deflated look. He looked so small like this, his personality completely different from the carefree and easy going guy that strolls through camp. It didn’t suit him, you wanted him to smile again, to give you that love stricken face you mistakenly took for teasing. “Don’t play with me, just answer the question.”

“I believe you’ll be busy with kitchen duty tonight,” you said with a smile, nodding towards your team. Clairesse was still waving the stolen flag in the air with the echoes of cheers surrounding her. Right behind your team, Annabeth looked defeated, rubbing at her face as she talked to Percy Jackson about who knows what. The son of Poseidon glanced over at you and Luke and gave you a thumbs up, as if he were also part of this plan. You didn’t doubt it. “So ask me again tomorrow.”

Luke smiled at your statement, newfound hope gleaming in his eyes as you made your way to your siblings. They roared in excitement, lifting the flag and some hitting their helmets against yours in celebration.

You laughed for the first time in a long while, a new sense of freeing happiness and excitement washing over you. There was something new in the air, at least between Luke and you, and it was a four lettered word that started with the letter L.

#luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo series #daughter of ares #ares greek god #greek mythology #luke pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #idiots in love

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thefoxtherapist · 6 months ago

Note

Hi again!! I hope your well after your surgery and is recovering well.

Could I request another Jiyan x male reader where reader has a conditions called Heterochromia. Where in reader has two different eye color but he hides it by using contract lens but one day Jiyan find out?

How would he react to seeing readers Heterochromia eyes?

Sorry for requesting another one, I really like Jiyan but there aren't much story's about him and I really like your writing!!

Hi! I don't mind at all! Please feel free to request as much as you want, I'm happy to write!

My recovery is going well, I was even able to go out today. Still in quite a bit of pain though so I'm taking things slow.

I hope you like the fic!

There were a plethora of reasons you had decided to hide your true eye colours. But at the end of the day, it just became something you were used to doing. Wake up early, insert the plain coloured lenses, and call it a day. It was a routine for you.

The first night you’d spent by the general’s side, you woke up with sore eyes, having forgotten to take the contact lenses out before sleeping. But you passed off the irritation, shrugging off Jiyan’s concern as you retired to your own lodging to locate your eye drops.

That too was a reason perhaps. How far you’d gotten into your relationship with Jiyan, lying for whatever reason. Telling the truth after all this time almost felt wrong, it was an uncomfortable feeling. You didn’t want to lie to somebody you cared about, but the alternative was to admit you had been lying.

“Hello.”

You froze when you heard his voice behind you, your lens case in your hand, eyes free from the suffocating contacts. Your name fell from his lips as he stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. “Hey, Jiyan.” You replied, but you didn’t look at him, even as he approached you from behind.

“You ran off, did I upset you?”

You shook your head with a slight laugh, trying to ease the tension you felt. Jiyan wasn’t the kind of man to waste time, and he didn’t waste time rounding where you sat to stand in front of you instead. He always preferred face to face communication, you knew that.

He looked down at you and you knew you couldn’t hide your eyes. You averted your gaze from his, but you could feel his golden gaze on your face. A soft hum escaped the general, you knew he noticed. He was too observant not to have.

But Jiyan didn’t say anything.

Jiyan uncrossed his arms, his touch was gentle as he stroked your cheek, gently bringing your face up so you would look at him. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip as he tilted his head at you, his smile was soft, a look of soft admiration that was quickly becoming reserved for you.

“You’re so handsome.”

His compliment was quiet and genuine as he stroked your face. You should have known this would be the last thing Jiyan cared about. Appearances were only so surface level, they meant little in comparison to his opinion of your character.

You closed your contact case, setting it aside, you then stood up. He took a step back, giving you room to come chest to chest with him. His hand remained on your face and you rested yours over his.

Jiyan’s lips were soft as you took the opportunity to kiss him in the quiet morning.

#wuthering waves x reader #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #jiyan wuwa #m!reader #༻Tenebris #༻Stygian #fun fact i have a form of heterochromia lol

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bri-cheeses · 6 months ago

Text

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 629 |

“Is this your shirt?”

Barty looked up as Regulus’ confused tone filled the space between them, turning off his phone as Regulus pinched a tee between his thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light. It was a light cream color that Barty could admit would look extremely out of place in his closet, an odd bright spot against his band tees and general dark ensemble of clothes.

“No, it’s Evan’s,” he said breezily. Never mind the fact that it was in his apartment, despite Evan living… not in Barty’s apartment.

Regulus let the shirt drop to the floor and wrinkled his nose. “Then what’s it doing in here?”

He tucked his legs up, sitting sideways against the back of the couch, and tilted his head at Barty.

“Oh, you know—” Barty unlocked his phone and went back to scrolling— “he just leaves things here sometimes.”

“Like his shirt?” Regulus asked skeptically.

“Well, he does have other clothes here.” A bit of an understatement, considering Barty had an entire drawer dedicated to Evan’s clothes alone, but Reg didn’t need to know that. “So it’s not like he was just walking around shirtless.”

Not that Barty would complain about seeing that, though.

“Ignoring the fact that you two are entirely too codependent, what were you even doing in the first place that caused his shirt to be left on your floor?”

Barty doubted Regulus really wanted to know the answer to that. He raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, still looking at his phone. “Things happen.”

“Things?”

Barty flicked an unimpressed gaze up at Regulus, who was staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. If Regulus truly hadn’t figured it out by now, Barty wasn’t going to help him.

“Yeah, things. Showering, spilling something on your shirt… do us a favor and pick whichever puts your mind at ease.”

Regulus sighed. “Why’re you being so vague?”

“Why’re you being so nosy?”

Barty swore that Regulus actually rolled his eyes.

“Can you just spare me the dramatics and tell me why Evan’s shirt is currently lying on the floor by your couch?”

Regulus was staring him down now, clearly intent on getting an answer. Barty didn’t particularly feel like giving it, but he supposed it would be easier in the long run to tell him now instead of getting hounded about it for the rest of today.

So Barty held eye contact with Regulus as he flatly replied, “It was getting too hot in here.”

Well, no one could accuse him of lying, at the very least.

“And why couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?”

Barty simply sighed and went back to his phone.

“Because it’s not necessarily your business what Evan and I get up to when you’re not around.” If only Regulus knew how true that really was.

“I suppose that’s fine, considering I’m not entirely sure that I even want to know. Unless the police are involved and I need to pay your bail. But also… he has clothes at your place?”

Barty didn’t see how Regulus hadn’t put the pieces together yet. It’s not like him and Evan were actively trying to hide it or anything. What’s more, Regulus was a pretty smart guy who should’ve realized what was going on between his two friends ages ago. Barty just figured that James’s general obliviousness must’ve been rubbing off on Regulus.

“Yes, he does. Why, are you jealous? I can get you a drawer too, if you want,” he offered.

Regulus looked around the room, unimpressed.

“I’m good, actually,” he said. “What I was getting at is that you and Evan are way too close of friends to be healthy.”

Barty just smirked at his phone.

That was certainly one way of putting it.

#they were both in bad moods if you couldn’t tell #Barty because Evan had to leave pretty early that morning and so he had barely seen him all day #and Regulus because James was on a business trip #i love their friendship so much because I feel like interactions between them when they’re both in bad moods would just be so so funny #rosekiller #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #regulus black #rosekiller microfic #my microfics

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rachalixie · 2 years ago

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the best man - part I

your best friend's getting married, and you're the maid of honor. minho is the best man. you're just trying your best to not let him get under your skin. pt II

warnings: lee minho x she/her!reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 1.4k

one could say that lee minho was a thorn in your side, but he wasn’t enough for that. he’s maybe a bump. a small bump in the road you’ve been driving on, a constant presence but not enough to make a difference to your wheels if you drive over it. enough for you to notice but not enough for you to swerve to avoid.

he’s friends with your friends, so naturally, he’s around a lot. ever since your best friend got engaged to his best friend, jisung, he’s been around even more. in a few short months he’s gone from someone you nod at from the bar at group outings to the person you bump shoulders with when wedding planning in a tiny kitchen. from a person who’s number you didn’t have saved in groupchats to having a personalized contact complete with emojis. with him as jisung’s best man and you as the maid of honor, you’ve frequently been on opposing sides of friendly arguments about the cake, the flowers, the music that should be played. you’re convinced that he disagrees with you just to rile you up, he’s never passionate about his side and always sways to what you and your friend want in the end, he just does it for the entertainment.

you wish you found it annoying instead of endearing. that would make things simpler.

but it was in planning their surprise bachelor-slash-bachelorette party (you knew those two would never be able to separate enough for an entire night) that you got to know him well. in between choosing the types of shots you want to serve and the perfect cheesy crowns for them to wear, you learn that he has three cats that he loves more than himself, he’s really sweet underneath his teasing exterior, and that he’s a gentleman that always opens doors for you and gives you his jacket when he sends you home at night after being there for longer than you planned for. he likes to cook and he’s a dancer who once had big dreams but found his true passion in teaching it. he likes to work out but complains about it every time and he’s kind of the biggest dork you’ve ever met.

he grows on you like moss, the healthy green squishy kind, slowly taking over your roots until he’s become a part of your day to day life. you’ve come to expect daily weather updates, selfies with his cats, and mindless banter from the time you wake up until the time your head hits your pillow at night.

the actual night of the party goes off without a hitch, with drinks flowing and sappy speeches that have you wiping your tears discreetly to not ruin your makeup. you’ve both curated the perfect playlist, invited only the essential people you know the almost-married couple would want there, and made an entire table of snacks that got devoured before you can blink. you meet minho’s eyes from across the room several times throughout the night, a hidden meaning you can’t place hiding in his gaze before he looks away every time. it leaves you with a feeling of longing that you don’t let yourself think about for too long. the maid of honor and the best man? that’s too cliche, even for you.

you don’t see him again until the day of the wedding, where you both leave your respective dressing rooms at the same time to get ready to walk down the aisle and take your places at the altar.

“you clean up well,” you tease, running a finger down the lapel of his tuxedo. it’s midnight blue, the color that jisung has chosen to compliment the flushed pink of the bridesmaid’s dresses. it compliments his honeyed skin almost too well, the contrast making him look like he’s about to walk a red carpet instead of the off-white runner lining the wedding hall floor. the flower buttoned to his chest matches the ones in your bouquet.

“it’s been known to happen from time to time,” his tone is teasing but his smile is soft as he takes you in, winking at you when you raise an eyebrow at him. “you don’t look so bad, yourself.”

you look down at your flowers with a small smile, still not knowing how to take his compliments after all these months.

“shall we?” he holds his arm out to you and you take it, calming your nerves before stepping through the doors to the sea of people in the room. he walks you down the aisle, steps in line with yours despite his legs being longer, and it feels right, being there with him.

he drops you off at your designated spot and you’re glad; you’re not sure if you would have remembered where to stand otherwise. you’re both beaming as jisung walks down the aisle, steps a little too eager and smile a little too wide. it warms your heart how happy he is to be married to your best friend. the same best friend who next glides down the aisle in a show of practiced elegance, steps timed perfectly to the wedding march playing.

you meet eyes with minho once they’re situated, blown away again by him in the new warm lighting that he’s shrouded under. his hair is glinting in the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling, and his smile despite being on display for everyone feels like it’s just for you. you’re so distracted by him in his damn tuxedo that you almost miss when your friend starts her vows. by the time she’s done, both the bride and groom are nearly sobbing, and jisung has to choke out his own vows before dragging her into a watery kiss before the officiant can tell him to. the whole room breaks into laughter, softening into awh’s when he pulls back with a heart shaped smile.

the rest of the day is a blur. you take photos, make speeches at the reception, change into comfortable shoes, eat the cake that’s just been cut, and by the time you finally sit down to watch the first dance you feel like you’ve been standing for days. is this what it’s like to get married? doesn’t seem like it’s worth the trouble.

“dance with me?” minho says, interrupting your internal monologue and making the smile return to your face. his hand is held out towards you, palm up, and you take it in yours without a second thought. a chance to dance with the most handsome guy in the room? no way you’re going to pass that up, even if your feet feel like they’re on fire.

he guides you to the dance floor, stopping a few feet from the happy couple and bumping his free fist against jisung’s shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. you twine your hands together behind his neck and smile at him.

“all this planning and i never learned how to slow dance,” you say, voice low as you try not to let the embarrassment wash over you.

“don’t worry, darling,” he tugs you closer, the name he calls you bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i can lead you.”

and lead he does. he twirls you around the dance floor, the bottom of your dress swinging around your feet as he gracefully makes it look like you know what you’re doing. you let him move you, your limbs pliant as he sways your hips in his grip. the two of you somehow look like the most practiced couple there because of him.

the song switches to something faster and more upbeat, but he doesn’t let you go. in fact, he pulls you in even closer, whispering in your ear about how he loves the song before guiding you to dance with him again.

the night ends with the two of you in the hotel elevator, on the way up to your respective rooms on the same floor. without warning, his hand goes to hit the stop button and the elevator jerks to a still, making your heart beat race.

“what the hell?” you almost yell, too shocked to be mad. he moves into your space, placing warm hands on your cheeks.

“am i reading this wrong?” he whispers, eyes flickering between your own and your lips. it falls into place like jenga bricks, messy and out of your control but not completely unexpected - this attraction between you? he feels it too.

“no,” you whisper back, melting as he finally seals his lips against yours.

turns out the maid of honor with the best man isn’t too cliche after all.

part II

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids scenarios

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dedef7890 · 2 months ago

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Everyday fluff, that's good, right?

Don't hesitate to leave comments to give me your opinions :) Comments motivate me to write more, and allow me to listen to your opinions and feelings to write things that please you :)

Satoru Gojo x Reader ( Girlfriend )

–––

It wasn’t every day that Gojo had a day off, and you were well aware of that, but honestly, you also knew that it was today or never. A few weeks ago, he had thrown away your boots, thinking they were in too bad of a condition and that you wouldn’t wear them anymore. It just so happened that on that very day, you had wanted to wear that specific pair. Honestly, Gojo’s face, all confused at first, then realizing what he’d done and trying to hide his mistake, was pretty funny. The way he almost seemed to feel bad despite attempting to appear nonchalant about it made it even better.

But the bottom line was, you no longer had your boots.

And you needed boots.

Which led you here with Gojo, in the bustling Shibuya mall, alive with the energy of civilians. Everywhere you looked, children followed their parents, others strayed off a bit, and you were pretty sure you had seen a married couple having a public argument. You even had to pull Gojo away from a candy store because he lingered too long. “We’ll come back once we’re done,” you had promised him, already regretting that commitment a little. Anyway, the shop windows sparkled under the artificial light, the brightness almost overwhelming after a few seconds, to the point of being unpleasant. You blinked, feeling the light burn your retinas as people passed by in a constant dance of movement. The shoe store that caught your interest was tucked away in a quieter corner of the mall, far from the bustling crowds, probably because there weren’t many people shopping in luxury stores. The two of you were isolated from the frantic masses. The contrast between the hustle of the mall and this quiet, intimate moment was striking.

You had just tried on a pair of boots—simple yet elegant, perfect for the season. You tapped your foot on the ground, considering how the shoes felt, and noted that they seemed a little roomy, making you think about trying a smaller size just to compare. You stood in front of a mirror, carefully assessing how the boots affected your overall silhouette. Your hair, neatly tied in a ponytail, swayed gently as you turned slightly from side to side, trying to get a better angle to appreciate the details of the shoes.

You glanced at your boyfriend. Honestly, you wanted Gojo’s opinion, but you already knew that he wasn’t exactly the most objective when it came to you.

Actually, he was never objective with you.

Your eyes shifted toward Gojo, who stood leaning against a wall, arms crossed, a slightly goofy smile on his face. You already knew that asking for his opinion was pointless. With him, objectivity didn’t exist. You turned toward him, hoping for a moderate reaction, maybe a simple comment about the color or style. “What do you think of these? They’re a bit different from the old ones,” you said.

You didn’t even get a chance to finish your sentence before you saw the playful gleam in Gojo’s eyes. A gleam you knew all too well. Before he even spoke, you raised your hand, trying to stop him.

“No… don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you said with a resigned sigh.

But it was too late. Gojo approached you with that mischievous, almost childish smile that betrayed his true intentions.

“I’ll buy them for you if you do a little spin, just to show me how well they fit,” he said.

You exhaled noisily.

You knew very well that Gojo had never been capable of giving an impartial opinion when it came to you. To him, everything you wore was perfect. But at that particular moment, you needed a solid answer. You wanted to know if these boots could really replace your old ones.

“Honestly,” you said, crossing your arms, “what do you think of the boots?”

Gojo raised an eyebrow as if the question itself was absurd. He leaned slightly toward you, his lips stretching into an even wider smile, clearly amused by his inability to give a serious response.

“If you want my opinion, I prefer you without shoes,” he said.

You let out an exasperated sigh but couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Satoru, I’m serious. These boots. Yes or no?”

Gojo pretended to think seriously, pursing his lips, but his eyes still sparkled with that constant amusement.

“They’re… fine, I guess? But, you know, you could buy two different pairs and wear them together. That’d be more fun,” he said with a laugh.

You shot him a look that clearly said, Why did I bring you with me?

He straightened up, stretched his arms behind his head, and let out an exaggerated sigh, as if the entire process of shopping was exhausting him, even though he had barely moved.

“Well, you know what? No matter what you choose, I’ll buy those shoes for you. Pick several pairs if you want. It’s on me. And then, we’ll go get those candies you promised. Deal?” he said, flashing that disarming grin that always made it hard to stay frustrated with him for long.

You blinked once, twice, weighing his offer. It wasn’t that you couldn’t afford the shoes yourself, but there was something endearing about how Gojo, with all his power and wealth, still found joy in these small, silly gestures. Rolling your eyes but smiling, you finally nodded, deciding to take advantage of the situation.

“Fine,” you said, half-laughing at his enthusiasm. “But don’t blame me if I take forever to choose.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, leaning against the wall again, hands deep in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself.

So, you ended up grabbing two more pairs of shoes, one more elegant and sleek, another more comfortable for everyday wear. If Gojo was offering, why not? You approached the cashier, balancing the boxes in your arms, while Gojo trailed behind, whistling lightly, clearly pleased that his bribe of candies had worked.

When you reached the register, you set the boxes down with a quiet thud, and the cashier began scanning them, oblivious to the silent conversation between you and Gojo. He stood beside you, still whistling, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his expression the epitome of nonchalance. But as the cashier rang up the items and the total flashed on the screen—an absurd amount typical of luxury stores—you couldn’t help but wince slightly. It wasn’t like Gojo would bat an eye at the cost, but still, the sheer number made you feel just a tiny bit guilty.

“Will that be cash or card?” the cashier asked, looking at you as if assuming you were the one who would pay.

You smirked, an idea forming in your mind, and without hesitation, you replied, “My husband will pay.”

Beside you, Gojo, who had been idly checking his phone, froze mid-scroll. His head snapped up so fast you were almost surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash. His sunglasses obscured his eyes, but you could still sense the shock radiating from him. Husband? The word seemed to hang in the air between you for a split second, heavier than you had expected it to be. You could practically feel his mind trying to process what you had just said.

“…Husband?” he murmured softly, as if testing the word, more to himself than to you.

You said nothing, biting your lip to hide the grin threatening to break out. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to wrap his mind around the label. He blinked, slowly at first, then faster, a mix of confusion and amusement crossing his features. Finally, a slow smile spread across his face, a smug, satisfied expression you knew all too well.

“Well,” he said, drawing out the word, clearly enjoying the moment, “if my wife says so…”

With that, he pulled out his card and handed it to the cashier, who remained blissfully unaware of the little game playing out between you two. As the transaction was completed, Gojo leaned down slightly, his voice low but laced with amusement as he whispered, “You know, you calling me your husband just made my whole day.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a laugh. “Don’t get used to it, Satoru. It was just for fun.”

“Oh, I’m definitely getting used to it,” he replied, his grin widening as he grabbed the shopping bags and started walking ahead of you toward the exit.

You followed behind, shaking your head but unable to suppress the smile creeping across your face. Gojo was insufferable sometimes—arrogant, playful, always pushing your buttons—but you wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything. There was something oddly comforting about his presence, even when he was being his usual over-the-top self.

As the two of you made your way out of the store and back into the bright, bustling mall, Gojo’s whistling resumed, and you realized he was now in an even better mood than before. The thought of heading back to the candy store lingered in the air, and you knew there was no way you could avoid it now.

“Alright, alright,” you said, surrendering to the inevitable. “Let’s go get your candy. I did promise, after all.”

Gojo’s face lit up, and he immediately quickened his pace, practically dragging you through the mall like an excited child. “You won’t regret this!” he said, his tone filled with that same infectious energy he always carried.

As you were whisked past more shop windows, you couldn’t help but reflect on the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, one of the most powerful exorcists in the world casually dragging you through a crowded mall, all for some sweets. And yet, in the midst of all the chaos, it felt strangely… normal.

After a short walk, you reached the candy store Gojo had been eyeing earlier, and as expected, he dove in with all the enthusiasm you’d come to expect from him. You watched, half-amused, half-exasperated, as he carefully selected an assortment of candies, his face a picture of concentration as if this were the most important task in the world.

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you said, leaning against the counter as he filled a bag to the brim.

“Hey, I don’t get to do this every day,” he replied without looking up, his tone light but tinged with that same playful arrogance.

You chuckled softly. “True, I guess.”

Once he had finally gathered his stash, Gojo paid for the sweets—still beaming, of course—and the two of you made your way out of the store. The mall’s bright lights and bustling crowds still surrounded you, but as Gojo happily munched on his candy, something about the moment felt intimate, as though the rest of the world had faded away.

It wasn’t the kind of grand, romantic gesture most people would expect from a relationship, but with Gojo, it was perfect in its own weird way.

“So,” Gojo said around a mouthful of candy, “now that I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal, what’s next? More shopping? Fancy lunch? Or do you just want to keep calling me your husband?”

You laughed, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. “Let’s start with lunch, and then we’ll see.”

Gojo grinned, popping another candy into his mouth. “Sounds like a plan, Mrs Gojo"

And despite yourself, despite knowing that he’d probably tease you about it for weeks, you found that you didn’t really mind the sound of that title at all.

He seems genuinely pleased, maybe even a little too pleased.

#gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru x you

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months ago

Note

Marrying Thor but being in love with Loki. Have her go to Loki’s room at wedding night so he can finish what his brother failed to…if yu know what i mean

Old work I dug from my wip, I hope you enjoy it <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, infidelity, oral (f receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Sometimes, life doesn’t go according to plan. Sometimes, it rains and you have to wear a cloak over the pretty dress you wanted to wear that day. Sometimes, you get a terrible headache and have to go to bed early. Sometimes, for political reasons, you have to put duty before heart matters.

One is the heir to the throne, the future king…and the other one is the king of your heart.

Your father had forged this arrangement with Odin in secret, with hopes of uniting realms. Though such alliances through marriage were nothing new, neither you nor Thor had been consulted beforehand. You were quick to voice your displeasure to your respective parents, but they didn’t care. You and Thor were going to marry.

Your future husband didn’t care too much. Duty was duty.

Loki, however, had a different perspective. When the news of the marriage got to his ears, he was furious.

He didn’t show up to the marriage, which was expected and better that way. No one wants to see the person they love marrying another.

After the ceremony, you snuck out of Thor’s quarters and ventured to Loki’s. You were mindful of the guards all around the palace, knowing that if you were seen there would be consequences.

You knocked on his door, your fist delicate against the thick wood. You could hear some shuffling, followed by footsteps coming to the door. He was out of his day clothes and wearing a dark green soft, silk shirt and lounge pants.

The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk when he saw you in your delicate robe and hair undone, cascading down your back in loose waves caused by your wedding hairstyle. ‘’What do we have here? The future queen of Asgard sneaking from her dear husband’s bed on her wedding night. Marital troubles already?’’

You fought the envy to roll your eyes at his remark. ‘’I braved the guards to see you, don’t leaving me standing in the corridor.’’

Loki stepped aside and you walked in, closing the door behind you. Inside, everything looked the same as it always did; the bed was perfectly made, the thick curtains were shut and shielding the room from the glow of the moon, and the desk was stacked with parchment papers and bits of used charcoal.

‘’Don’t you have better things to do than clandestinely visit your dear husband’s brother in the middle of the night?’’ Loki's voice was laced with a bitter edge as he spoke, his back turned to you as he walked back to the velvet green couch he was sitting on before you interrupted his reading.

You couldn't help but respond with a touch of sarcasm, trying to break through the tension that hung in the room. ‘’Like listening to Thor’s snores that could make a trumpet sound quiet?’’

You walked over to the couch and took a seat beside him with your back against the cushioned armrest. It wasn’t very lady-like to sit with your feet on the couch, but no one was there to scold you. The red silk of your robe contrasted with the jewel tone of the couch, a silent reminder that you shouldn’t be there. Red was Thor’s color.

‘’How was the bedding ceremony?’’ The prince set the book he was reading on the table, his head turned from you to hide how he truly felt about the thought of you and Thor having sex.

Shifting uncomfortably, you casted your eyes down. ‘’Can we not talk about that—’’

Loki ghosted his hand slowly up your ankle, shin, then stopped right below your knee. ‘’Does he touch you like I do?’’

The answer was easy.

You wouldn’t call Thor selfish, but when it came to sex, his performances weren’t what you would expect from a god. The rumors were true, even a good dick doesn’t guarantee you good sex. No foreplay or any kind of fun, just plain old missionary…for five minutes. The liters of Asgardian Ale he had drank during the wedding celebration were possible to blame for that terrible experience. Hopefully it won’t always be like that.

With Loki, sex was completely different. He knew your body like the back of his hand, the exact ways that had your back aching and screaming. And there was a connection that just wasn't there with Thor.

You shook your head.

Loki laughed, genuinely amused from hearing of his brother's incompetence. ‘’You have no idea how hilarious it is. Thor, the mighty God of Thunder and heir to the throne, failed to satisfy his wife on his wedding night.’’

‘’I knew it would amuse you. Knowing there’s something you’re more skilled at than him.’’

A sly smirk played on the prince’s lips, flattered by your compliment. ‘’Tell me more.’’

‘’Don’t be greedy.’’ Your eyes longed on him, how beautiful he looked in the glow of the lamp.

‘’Me?’’ Loki leaned back on the couch, his eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light. ‘’The only thing I’m greedy for is sitting right in front of me and wearing a color that’s far too overpowering for her complexion.’’

His words only strengthened your guilt for taking the hand of a man you didn't love. It was killing you inside to know you'll never get to hold Loki's hand arm in the gardens or kiss him in front of the inhabitants of Asgard.

Turning a blind eye to your new marital status, you let your fingers glide down along the lapel of your robe, and traced teasingly the seam of your belt-tie. ‘’Shall I take it off?’’ you said in a near whisper.

‘’And what of your new husband?’’

‘’He’s sleeping until morning.’’ You pulled at the belt-tie and undid the knot, letting the silk slowly fall and expose your breasts.

A silent growl caught in Loki's throat. He's mouthed and worshiped those so many times, yet he was still in awe every time you undressed.

Without withdrawing his eyes from you, he made the robe vanish with a snap of his fingers, leaving you completely bare on his emerald green couch. ‘’Green looks better on you.’’ He delicately grabbed your ankles, and spread your legs before crawling between them.

A sigh left your lips when he kissed the insides of your thighs, giving attention to what had been neglected in Thor’s quarters. Loki was right, no man touched you like he did. He looked up at you as he kissed higher and higher on your skin, making the situation more sensual. You bit down your lip when he

placed a loving kiss against your sensitive clit, and grip his dark curls as his tongue swirled and suckled your sensitive bud.

‘’Ahh, Loki!’’

His name was the only one on your tongue, echoing through the wall of his bed chamber and down the corridor.

—

Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife @amithesimpoffandoms @acornacreacure @chaotic-fangirl-blog @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation @aabananaa @starrrslove @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan @yourfavdummy @laylasbunbunny @slytherhoes @pedrosprincess @luvvtxinityy @Eddiefrickenmunson @wandaswigglywoos @mikaelsonsstuff @tcddszn @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @popeheywardssecretgf @kattybug @loverofdrewstarkey @sl4sh3rfuck3r @luci1fer @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @t-candy @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @mymultiveres @hopeurokays @not-liah @beth-gallagher22 @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336 @arinexeisnotworking @rubyliquor @Danniackerman @angelxxrose @angelxxrose @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe @hoeforsirius @secretsthathauntus @sarcasm-and-stiles @buckyswhxre @niktwazny303

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki x reader #loki marvel #loki odinson #marvel #marvel imagine

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

Text

Trials of Change

Ghost overhears Soap and a couple of recruits complaining about him and decides maybe he does need to be fixed.

Ghost had never been happier honestly. Really. He and Soap had been dating for… two months, four days and, he checked the time, six glorious hours.

Maybe that happiness made him blind. Foolish or even just stuipd.

Ghost slipped into the room where the other people were. It wasn’t on purpose that he was undetectable. His natural state of being was… well… Ghost.

So he heard the conversation.

Price hummed. “How’s it going with him?”

Soap smiled. “Oh, he’s great.”

“Is he planning on wearing the mask less?”

Ghost internally winced. He understood Price was just asking out of concern. Price was one of the first people to understand that Ghost and Simon were both different people and the exact same.

Soap shrugged. “Don’t know. I wish he would.”

Ghost knew that was true so he didn’t mind it, but he decided to wait a second and not announce his presence. He just sat back to listen.

“Thank God.” One of the rookies piped up. Ghost tensed and glared at them, though they couldn’t feel it unfortunately. “Tired of him walking around all scary. We were all hoping he’d get better when you guys started dating.”

Ghost didn’t understand.

Better? What did they mean better? He was happier. Wasn’t that enough?

Soap looked rueful. “Yeah. I’d like that too. He spooks me sometimes.”

Ghost felt his heart just drop. He was sure if he strained he could hear the sound of it snapping. Ice shards being sent off everywhere. After a moment, he decided to stay where he was. Safe and sound.

As everyone seemed to list off his transgressions.

Did they know he was there and deciding to mess with him? It was right up Soap’s alley, but the rookies usually feared him enough to stay quiet. He doubted they would pick up on what was going on fast enough.

“Please make him wear something with color.”

Soap shrugged. “His closet is nothing but black.”

“Tell him to put something besides his music on.”

Soap rebutted that one too. “He hates my music and you guys don’t get a vote.”

Then the complaints came a bit faster.

“Make him actually talk to people.”

“And stop hiding in his room. It’s a bit creepy at this point.”

“Also why can’t he ever make friends on base?”

“Anger issues. He’s constantly getting pissed for no reason.”

“Please make him take off the mask.”

“And stop staring.”

“And also please stop letting him out at night.”

“Why are you breaking curfew to see him out at night?” Soap remarked, crossing his arms. The recruits cringed and quickly found something interesting in the room to stare at. That’s when Ghost made his escape.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew people wanted him to change. Always something off putting. It had been like that since he started wearing long sleeves at all time to hide bruises and sleeping through class because his dad kept him awake all night.

But this was new. Did Soap want him to change?

Of course he did.

“Better”

What did better mean?

Soap had been asking him questions lately. Simple things. How was your day? How are you feeling? What do you feel like doing? And Ghost would answer honestly. The bad days had definitely decreased. Ghost enjoyed being around the 141 more. He thought he had been talking more. Just to the 141, Alex, Farah, Alejandro and Rodolfo, but really who else did he need? They all saw him as he was and he thought that was enough.

Apparently not.

Apparently that was not better.

Well, he had a list of things that he could be better at now. Ghost felt stupid. A silly teen trying to keep their boyfriend around.

For a moment, he thought of forgetting this conversation happened. Of taking what Soap would give him and waiting to be abandoned when Soap realized that Ghost was incapable of being what he wanted. But already, he knew this would poison everything. Anytime Soap put his scarf around Ghost because he ran so much colder than his angry Scott or when he asked him to take his mask off when they were alone or every time he introduced him to someone new, he’d wonder if it was somehow a way to change him.

Could he just break up with him? It was the smartest and easiest thing. Shove Soap out of his life and stay exactly where he is. But that meant not having Soap. No more late night tea trips with someone by his side. He’d no longer be there to put hickeys on his neck that he’d grumble about and then secretly like. All the jokes and stolen clothes and the touch. He had forgotten how nice it was to have someone touch him. To put his head on someone’s chest (he hated weight on him because it reminded him of the dirt from the coffin) and hear their heartbeat. Nice and steady and sweet.

Fuck, Ghost couldn’t give that up. He’d also never be able to drink enough of it in to get his fill. So he’d have to be… better.

Maybe he could start small. It was silly, but color was probably the easiest. Wear something besides black.

He didn’t own anything not black.

Fucking hell.

Ghost took a deep breath. Maybe he could start with… music? When did they even play music? During exfil occasionally if Nik was driving? But he didn’t have a mission with Soap for the next few weeks so he could see it regardless.

Anger issues? Yeah, Ghost had them but he didn’t think he ever blew up for no reason. Maybe his reactions were occasionally over the top, but he never hit anyone. Never hit objects near them to show he could either. His last meltdown was months ago and he had, with shockingly no protest but still with a very hurt pride, apologized to the person.

Goddamnit, he just needed a starting place. That’s all. So color it fucking was.

Ghost went to Gaz, hesitant and nervous, but he was the only person he could really ask about this without it being suspicious since he wasn’t there.

“Hey, Garrick.”

Gaz looked up from what he was reading. “Riley!” He liked that about Gaz. When he had first referred to him as Kyle, Gaz had called him Simon. If he used his rank, Gaz responded with his rank. Ghost had learned to stick to last name or callsign with him. They felt more like equals than most of the other people on base.

“Can you help me with something?”

Gaz sat up. “A mission?”

“Where can I get… clothing?”

Gaz paused. “You… The Ghost… want me to help you with shopping?”

Ghost nodded awkwardly. “Yeah… Can we go… shopping?”

Gaz slowly stood up. “Why?”

“I’m going to try changing my style.”

“Why?”

“Just… want to try something… different?”

Gaz frowned and Simon remembered why he didn’t usually go to Gaz for assistance. They could see straight through him. Every time. “You want to try something… different? Why? You’ve never changed in the years I’ve known you.”

Ghost just shrugged awkwardly.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Gaz stood up and pulled his shoes on. “What are you searching for?”

“Something with… color?”

Gaz frowned but obliged. He couldn’t bring Ghost to a mall, worried the people would get him worked up. So instead, he brought him to a strip of stores and picked the most abandoned one. Gaz didn’t really do much, having a feeling he was more playing moral support for whatever breakdown this was. It wasn’t… completely uncommon for Ghost to get the urge to do things. Almost like a mania. However it was never something as simple as this.

He gave Ghost’s a thumbs up when the man grabbed a blue hoodie. Dark blue, so still in theme. Then he grabbed a camo green and ruby red. Nothing but hoodies.

“You going to stick with your normal dark color scheme?” It was a genuine question from Gaz, who was worried about him. Also, depending the answer, it would be easier to help him find things.

Ghost wondered if this was… different enough. “Can you pick something that… isn’t?”

Gaz tilted his head and looked around. He found a polo shirt in a softer green color. “Do you want to try it on before buying it? Make sure you’re comfortable.”

Ghost bounced between his feet, debating. “Yeah.” He found a dressing room and slowly slipped off his black hoodie. The mirror was there. His arm tattoos covered the scars there, but he still felt nervous.

Now his shirt.

Just… take off the shirt.

Take it off.

Ghost pulled it over his head in a rush but he still caught himself in the stupid mirror.

Ugly scarring.

Did Soap not like those? Ghost had tried things to make them fade. Balms and creams and keeping them clean. They were still there. Dark, thick lines. Giant pieces of flesh that were marred for one reason or another.

What if Soap hated those too? Ghost certainly did. It’s why he stayed covered up.

He pulled the new shirt on and didn’t look at himself. The fabric was… fine. Not the best, but fine. The color looked weird against his pale skin.

This was stupid. Again, the feeling of being a teen girl appeared. Was this childish? Of course it was.

He bought the clothing anyway, even though it made his skin crawl.

Gaz smiled at him once they were back in the car. “I’m proud of you.”

Ghost nodded. “Thanks, Gaz.”

“No problem, Ghost.”

Ghost grabbed food and hid in his room to eat. He perched on his desk.

Soap arrived moments later and smiled, sitting on Ghost’s desk chair so they were right next to each other. “Hey, haven’t seen you today.”

“Went out.”

“You went out? By yourself?” Soap sounded so shocked.

Ghost shrugged. “I had Gaz with me.”

“That’s nice! I’m glad you’re doing that.” Soap smiled at him. “Have fun?”

Ghost thought about it. Honestly, when he wasn’t focused on what they were doing, it wasn’t too bad. Hanging out with Gaz, even if they didn’t really talk much, was pretty fun.

“Get anything?”

“More hoodies since you keep stealing mine.”

Soap smiled. “Hell yeah. It’s not my fault you have better taste in hoodies. They’re always so soft and big and smell like you.”

“They’re big because they’re meant to fit me.”

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek. After having to deal with the people at the store, Soap’s presence was honestly a bit of a balm to his frayed nerves.

Until he thought of why he had gone out.

“Are you content with me?”

Soap paused, looking a bit confused. “Simon, I’m happy with you. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. Just wondering.”

Johnny hummed. “Take your mask off for me.”

Simon did. He wanted to be what Johnny expected. To change how he was supposed to. Callused fingers ran over his cheekbones. Touching his jaw.

“Beautiful.”

Wrong.

“Did something happen?” Soap was too perceptive.

“No.”

Soap frowned and leaned up, kissing him more. “Alright. Ye won’t talk to me. I won’t push ya.” He cupped his face. “Just talk to me when you’re ready then.”

Ghost frowned. “Nothing wrong. But I will if anything comes up.”

Soap smiled. “All I ask.”

The next time they were in the car, Ghost put on some pop music. It wasn’t what he’d normally listen to. It was just a random list of the top 100 hits. Soap noticed and looked at him oddly. “Where’s your normal rock music?”

Ghost normally made a radio each time they were going to do something together. All of it heavy rock music or metalcore. That was… bad though. Price called it his angry mix and he was trying to not do that. Not to be like that.

Be different.

“Wanted to change it up?” It came out too much like a question.

Soap frowned. He liked all types of music just fine, but Ghost didn’t. Ghost was predictable. Ghost only “Changed it up” when on leave when he listened to classical music. A fact only Soap got to know.

“You’re acting different.”

Ghost shrugged and focused on driving. The other guys seemed on edge now Something was clearly off about him now. It made everyone nervous.

It was exacerbated when Ghost wore colors at the next taskforce meeting. Even Gaz, who had been there when he bought it, looked very uncomfortable when he wore a soft shade of red hoodie and medical mask instead of his balaclava. They all kept glancing over and… looking confused.

Ghost looked at Soap. He ignored that his skin prickled at the attention and the change. That the fabric was itchy against his skin. Or that being so exposed made him want to die right there. None of that quite mattered as much as Soap’s expression. He didn’t look pleased at all. No excitement that Ghost tried to be different. Just… a strange look.

Ghost felt sick. He felt nauseous.

Soap cornered him after the meeting and took him to his bedroom.

Ghost felt like a kid, just sitting on his bed as Soap stared at him.

“I was just trying to be what you wanted.” Simon admitted, yanking the hoodie off. “I heard you and the recruits complaining about me. I just… wanted you to like me.”

Johnny paused and softened. “Simon. I’m sorry. I was letting them complain because you’re their boss. Which I shouldn’t have. Gotta so caught up in you being Ghost, my Lt, I let them disrespect Simon, my boyfriend.” He sank down, getting on his knees in front of him. “All of this… Making yourself so uncomfortable and forcing yourself to change… You tried to do for me?”

Ghost winced. “It’s pathetic. I know. Just…”

Johnny laughed and pulled the medical mask down to kiss him. “Mo chroí. It’s not pathetic. I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve cleared it up for you.” He kissed him a few more times. “I love your angry music and your dark clothing and the fact you only casually show your face to me. And I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Simon relaxed a little. “Keep going.”

Johnny laughed. “Alright. I like that you’re mean to recruits because you want them to toughen up. You don’t listen when anyone suggests anything because you know you’re going to ignore it and I find it fun. Especially because you listen to me. I like that you’re a little pretentious about your music and that I get to wear your black hoodies. That you have two pairs of pants and that’s all you wear. On leave, I love that you wear a ton of rings. That you’re grouchy in the mornings even though you get up at 5 am when working. I love you, Simon.”

Simon pulled them back so they were laying in bed and Soap continued without a beat. “I love that you wake up at 2 am and make you tea and me a cup of coffee. Love that you sneak into my room all the time and that you steal the blankets. I-”

Simon kissed him. “Alright. You can stop now. I get it.”

“I can keep going. Anytime you want me to.” Johnny promised. “Also, I tore into them later. I wanted you to know. Made fun of all of them.”

Simon laughed and relaxed more into the bed, feeling Johnny pepper kisses on him. “Love you too.”

#johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #ghostsoap #soapghost #simon ghost riley #soap cod #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii

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geo-winchester · 9 months ago

Note

HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY!!!! Wish you the best and an amazing day!!

From your prompt list, can I request

7. And at every table, I’ll save you a seat.

With Taron?

BY MY SIDE

A/N: hi love! I’m so sorry this took me a lot of time to write! But I wasn’t in my greatest moment, I hope this is what you expect and I hope that you like it! Thank you so much for your wishes and I hope that you’ll have a great day!

———————

When you were a kid, you never imagine that you were going to see your best friend on the big screen, you always knew that Taron’s big dream was to be a movie star, and you were so proud and so happy to see his dream comes true, but you were also afraid of how this would change your relationship, but he proved you that anything changed between the two of you, he invites you to some of his red carpets, he called you when he got choose for new role. But you also have to admitted that you have a crush on him that you always tried to hide, you’re heart race with every smile he gave at you, or every time he brought coffee at your work, and you start to notice that in every dinner you have with your friends he always had a seat saved next to him for you, but you knew it was all in your head and you didn’t want to mess up your friendship so you start to avoid him, trying to calm your feelings, and you thought you finally get it until you open the door and you met his eyes, he was wet from the rain that was falling.

-Taron? Jesus your soaking, get in before you catch a cold- he follow your orders, before he said anything you went to the other room, you get back with a towel and a bathrobe, he look at you confused making you shrugged -I don’t have anything else, you can put this while your clothes gets dry- he nod and got inside the bathroom.

As he was in the bathroom you tried to calm yourself down by putting some coffee on, when he got out you heard him going to the laundry and a little while later the dryer going on, you couldn’t help but giggle when you saw him in the bathrobe.

-I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh but purple is really your color- he rolled his eyes -do you want some coffee?.

-Yes please- he said, the two of you stayed completely silent as the two of you drank from your cups.

-Taron…

-Yn- you talk at the same time making you giggled -you go first- he said.

-Why are you here? I thought you were training for the role you got- you said.

-I was, but… why are you avoiding me?

-What? Why do you say that?

-Because lately every time I asked you out you said you been really busy with work, but I met Jenn at the gym and she told me that everything at your work it’s been really calm, so why?- he asked with a puppy look

-It 's nothing…

-how it could be nothing? You've been avoiding me for weeks and you said it’s nothing- he said.

-It’s something stupid- you said.

-Obviously not…

-I thought I was falling for you- you finally said.

-what?

-You see, it’s stupid, I mean look at me, I’m nothing special, you have a ton of pretty good looking girls that you work with, and I… I am just a normal girl that is your friend so yeah I know it’s stupid to even think that I have a shot- you said.

-You are in love with me?- he asked.

-I try not to…

-don’t…

-don’t mess with me Taron- you said -I’m know I’m not your type, I’m not one of those models you go out with, I’m just me, I’m not go out much, I read, I work and I’m just normal- you said -and I know this couldn’t happen…

-You’re wrong- he said as he make you look at him -You’re smart, you make me laugh, you’re beautiful even when you wear those crazy sweaters for all those festive days, I love when you try to be sensitive at something but sometimes you have difficult to express sorry so it’s kind of funny how you act- you rolled your eyes- you know me and I know everything about you- you look at him unsure of his answer- of course I’m saying the truth, I know your favorite food, I know that you hate olives and you are allergic to peanut, I know that you love when it rains but not just because of the smell in the air, but because you feel like your in twilight, and I know I love you and I been in love with you since I was in fifth grade when you get in to the music class and start to sing girls just want to have fun.

-And how do you know this will work? How do you know that this won’t blow up everything?

-I don’t know that- he said as he got closed to you and clean a small tear from your cheek- but i can tell you what I know, I know I want to be with you and only you- he said as he got so close to you that you can felt his breath before he finally crash his lips on yours -and as Taylor Swift once said “and on every table I’ll save you a sit”- he said making you laugh.

That moment sometimes feel like a long time ago, you like to said that after that day everything went smoothly but every time he was a away for a movie or he has to go on a tour and of course there were those dumbs fights, but there were also the good moments, the first night you spend together, when you decide to move in together, when he propose and your wedding, you also remember his reaction when you found out you were pregnant with your first child and how good of a father he was. Today was an important day for him, he was nomine to the golden globes. When you get inside the room you could see the excitement and the nervous in his eyes, you whistle to catch his attention.

-Too much?- he asked as he turned around, you shook your head in response.

-Your tie is a little crooked, let me help you- you walk to him, and start to fix his tie -Nervous?

-A little, I mean I know this is something great but I can’t help to think what if I didn’t win?

-Well you’ll have to found a new wife- you joked making him laugh -Hey, nothing would change If you loose, people would recognize how amazing work you did, and even if you loose, you’ll still have us- he kiss you -that and you can have a consolation prize when we get home- he smirk.

-And what if I win…

-Well Mr. Egerton, we have the house to ourselves, we can do whatever you want.

-God now I really want to win- he said, making you laugh.

The two of you were having a lot of fun at the event, with all the jokes and the conversation you had with all the other actors on the table, you saw that Taron was a little more relax, until they start to announce the category for best actor, he took your hand when the camera focus him, you felt the grip of your hand getting stronger, when he was called as the winner he bring you in to a big hug and kiss you before he walk to the stage.

-Oh God, this is… wow, I don’t believe it, love I won- he said making everyone laugh -I want to thank to all the crew of this amazing movie, Mathew thank you for give me this chance, my mom and my sisters who are watching with my beautiful kids, and to my beautiful wife, thank you for be there for me, even before we knew this was for ever, you always been my best friend and you always been by my side in every moment I know you always be there just as I’ll be there for you, I love you and our beautiful family, this wouldn’t happen without you, I love you- he said, you kiss him the minute he got in to the table.

-I love you too- you said.

-I know we said we’ll have the house to ourselves but I really want to share this with the kids…- you didn’t let him finish, you gave him a kiss.

-I can eat a burger and celebrate on our own.

-Let’s go and have our own celebration- he said as he gave you a quick kiss.

#taron egerton x reader #taron x reader #taron imagine #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #eggsy unwin x reader #jimmy keene x reader

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