#honestly this is beautiful and i would love more to it!

[indelicateink]

THANK YOU prev, i was wondering if anyone else was seeing this. if I zoom in, it’s not the iris that’s moving I think—i think it’s the reflections flickering?

now. either those candles are super bright and going crazy (unlikely?); or being an actual film set and having entire people whose profession this is, i can admit yeah they set up lights that have some flicker to them (could be could be), OR: they could not keep their goddamn fingers off it and this is cgi that is giving us those anime eyes (possible)

and i feel like i’m the only one not loving how they cgi the actors’ eyes in this show lol. the pupils, okay—I totally get that: no problem. that adds value given the prosthetics. allowing the contacts to have an autonomic response brings some realness—and powerful emotion—to the work; it is also awesome for conveying things like You Have Just Pissed Off A Vampire, et al.

but sometimes the pupil dilation takes me out of it. they are adding *emotion* to the actor’s performance and taking away a little…agency? intimate artistic input?…and I feel like I’m standing just on the edge of the uncanny valley. —but this is a horror property. i’m rolling with it.

but where I do feel quite alone with my discomfort lol is with what they’ve done with armand’s eyes? i’m probably incorrect, but i can’t escape the feeling it was something that was fallen into when there was viewer backlash to armand’s eyes being so very orange in the s1 reveal: that they took it, but pivoted, and said Okay So No We Say This Was Intentional—Armand Is Special: for his eyes, they actually glow in times of arousal and are more moderate in times of calm. and if that’s the case—pivoting—hand to god I wish they’d just toned down the color and we would have rolled with it, because it’s tv, and creative changes happen all the time from season to season and the audience honestly doesn’t gaf beyond going “oh hey” and moving tf on

and if that’s the case, it was almost as if they couldn’t leave his eyes alone at only that. and the next thing—i just. at first I thought it was a mistake in the cgi, and then i slowly accepted the intentionality.

they give only armand nystagmus, rapid uncontrollable eye movements. (frank langella and pruitt taylor vince have nystagmus—except in armand it is super exaggerated.) again, like armand’s glowing orange eyes, they only move like this during times of his very heightened emotion. and uh…again: it’s a horror property (okay sure go for it, make him a very special supernatural boy) vs someone else layering emotion on top of an actor’s performance (ehhh do not love). the movement is so very exaggerated that, to me, it’s wildly in danger of parody (like the glowing orange eyes, which themselves had already slipped into affectionate fan parody), but so far the fandom has been very accepting. and to me, because nystagmus is a real thing in people that here is so wildly exaggerated here when he “monsters out,” it’s nails on a chalkboard. but i’m trying to accept it over time.

and then. then they subtly played with lestat’s eye color. did we decide that was to be a gentle indicator of dreamstat, to set him apart even more? i’m not mad at it (and hey, at least it is surely a practical effect), but when i’m already grumpy about them fucking with their eyes, i can’t not not notice that they are, once again, fucking with eyes here lol. but whatever with this one. if they stop fucking around with it now, i’m chill.

the daniel thing was kinda fun. at this point in my grumpiness i’m just like fuck it, nothing matters, give him magic colored eyes like an x-men mutant lol, i will just let it wash over me. maybe they’ll shape-shift next. i will recite The Litany Against Being A Book Purist like i’m paul atreides undergoing torture like the histrionic purist that i am lol

anyway, lestat’s eyes here are very beautiful. if they fucked with them with cgi i’ll be illogically grumpy about it. if it is a practical effect i will, irrationally, be very chill with it. (did you know the replicants’ eyes in blade runner were a practical effect?? fucking awesome.) I don’t know. something something being in the room with the actor during the performance vs enhancing his performance later via software. i’m just so goddamn pleased they’re not glowing.

I don’t know how to caption this but the amount of times I rewinded Lestat’s reaction when Louis steps closer is alarming

[bluefootedbooby]

Hey you, I wanted to request jinx x reader, imagine that the reader is Jinx's girlfriend who is wearing a short, low-cut dress just to tease her and in the end Jinx fucks the reader on her bench with the strap?

beautiful.

jinx x f!reader

cw: strap on, squirting, tit play, slapping, tummy bulge

you twirled around in the mirror, smiling looking at the shortly cut dress clinging to your body. The cheeks of your ass poking out.

in the reflection behind you, you catch a sight at Jinx staring at you in awe. you turn around to smile at her.

“like? was planning to wear it out for clubbing.”

“you… in that?! baby you know this club isn’t private!”

“yeah but it’s cute right?”

“it’s hot ask fuck!”

jinx stepped closer feeling the black velvet fabric. “yeah… no, this dress is for my eyes only.”

you giggle, leaning into her touch as she peaks down the low-cut top at your tits just barely concealed.

“no way… nah… all mine.”

her index finger pulls down the velvety fabric causing your breast to expose.

“mmph! jinx!”

she is in awe, her eyes just staring at your tits, braless and exposed. her lips kiss at your chest, licking your sternum and the flesh above your tit. jinx smiles, her eyes looking up to you. “oh this was never meant for the club, huh~?” you cheekily shake your head, rocking on your heels with your hands behind your back. jinx’s fingers trail at your thighs, lifting the fabric.

“no panties! sheeeeesh toots…”

——

jinx had you sitting on her work bench, the dress barely need but still remained on even with your tits out and the bottom of it rolled up to your stomach. jinx, who was between your legs with the tip of her electric blue dildo kissing your sensitive clit, snickered seeing how you jumped and your hole clenched up feeling any sort of touch.

“baby… please…”

you whine out, she was surprised you were eager rather than nervous at her seven inch dildo, especially when you two normally used five. jinx gave your tit a gentle squeeze before slapping it.

“please what? cmon… use that fucking mouth of yours.”

you went to speak before jinx’s lips slammed into you cutting off any thoughts you were having.

“mmph!” you whine out, when she pulls away she holds at your chin.

“c’mon? use your words!” it was starting to get humiliating! everytime you tried to speak she would ram her lips into yours cutting off any thought until you just couldn’t take it.

“fuck me! please! please! fuck! jinx!”

and before you could even prepare you felt maybe three inches ram into your needy cunt as you moaned out. your hands going to her twin braids, giving them a firm yank. fuck you were so stimulated it didn’t take long until you could fit all seven of those lovely inches, jinx’s hips connecting deep into yours as she leaned you against the counter of her workbench. the cold metal stung like hell but it only added to the pleasure as her hand wrapped your neck.

“yeah, atta girl… fuck! swallowing her up…”

jinx rested her palm on the skin above your pussy feeling the bobbing motion of her fake cock.

“oh shit…” it honestly made her stop! feeling herself in you might’ve made her cum then and there. she was silent for a while as she felt the toy going in and out. she withdrew her hand and watched the tiny bulge of it in your abdomen. jinx would go slow, seeing it dance around in your guts before ramming hard and fast! using you like the pretty girl you are. eventually jinx snapped back with her witty remarks.

“ya like that? like me deep inside you? maybe i should get a bigger one!” not that her words registered much to you, only quick nods and ‘uh huh’s escaping your drooling mouth. you felt a playful slap along your cheek.

“hey! respond when i’m talking to ya! before i pull out… and neither of us want that!”

“mmph! yeah… yeah… nine inches.. fuck i could take twelve if you needed me to��. ah..”

jinx slammed deeper, pressing your lower abdomen causing you to whine and moan more. oh she knew you were getting there… especially when the slapping noises turned wetter and looking down between the two of you seeing the mess you were making all over each other as you squirted!

“fuck! y/n, i didn’t know you could do that!! fuck…”

your head lifts to see but she forces it down to look at her instead. “nuh-uh… only look at me. you’re about to cum right? i know you are about to… yeah. cum right now, cmon!” your gut swirled, moaning and whining feeling the toy pressed right on your cervix desperate to get inside you more. your eyes rolled back, jinx’s thumb massaging your sensitive and neglected clit. within a flash you were unraveling right there! squirting out your needy fluid and coating the strap in honey.

jinx pulled out, seeing the long string of your juice connecting you two still. she smiled seeing just how much was inside you!

as you laid against the counter jinx removed the strap before climbing on you and kissing your swollen lips. “you did so good~ and don’t worry about the mess… was really hot. you’ve never done that before?”

“no… ah… never.”

“well, i’m gonna make sure you’re doing it more! it felt good right?”

“yes! duh…”

jinx laugh, kissing your cheek when she had slapped you.

“mmm… i love ya, and this cute dress… sorry you didn’t get to keep it on very long, huh”

you smile, lifting your head to kiss her jaw.

“i love you too.

[insidekatmind]

Movie~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18, smut, masturbation, english is not my first language.

You’re sitting on the couch with Levi Colwill beside you, the soft lighting in your home creating the perfect atmosphere. The movie you picked is playing on the screen, but it’s clear from the start that neither of you is truly interested in watching it. Levi is sitting close to you, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body and catch the faint, fresh, woody scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a blanket.

"So…" you begin, trying to focus on the plot. "What do you think of the movie so far?"

He raises an eyebrow and flashes a small smile, the kind of smile that makes you melt a little. "The movie? Oh yeah, the movie…" he teases, leaning slightly back against the couch. "Honestly, I can’t follow it. And it’s your fault."

Your heart skips a beat. "My fault? How is it my fault?"

Levi leans a little closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you forget everything else. "Because you’re here next to me. How am I supposed to focus on a movie with you this close?"

You can’t help but laugh, even though the sound comes out a bit shaky. "You’re really good with words, aren’t you?"

"Only when I’m with the right person." His voice is soft now, and before you can respond, you feel his hand lightly brush against yours, as delicate as a feather. "Can I?"

You nod, and that small gesture seems to be all the permission he needs. He leans in and kisses you, slowly at first, as if making sure it’s what you wanted. His lips are soft and warm against yours, and every thought of the movie, the outside world, vanishes in an instant.

The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate. You find your hands sliding behind his neck, while his hold on your waist tightens ever so slightly. Between kisses, he chuckles softly, a low, intimate sound that makes you smile.

"Maybe we should turn off the movie," he suggests with a smirk.

You shake your head, amused. "Why? I thought you were into the plot."

"Into it? Sure," he says, but he doesn’t even glance at the screen. His eyes stay fixed on you as he lightly brushes his fingers against your cheek. "But there’s a much more interesting storyline right here."

You laugh again, but then he kisses you once more, and the world seems to stop. Time loses all meaning, and you’re aware of nothing but him: the way he touches you, the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only thing that matters.

After a while, you find yourself curled up against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "You know," you say softly, "I didn’t expect the evening to turn out like this."

"Me neither," he admits, his hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair. "But I’m glad it did."

"So am I," you reply, a warm, sweet feeling blooming in your chest.

And there, on the couch, with the movie still playing unnoticed in the background, you realize there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

You looked at each other for a moment and then kissed again. You leaned on him while Levi gently and sensually lowered his hand into your skirt and moved his panties to the side by adding a finger in your pussy and you moaned in the kiss.

"So wet" He murmured as he kissed your neck and left you some signs of love.

You closed your eyes as you felt he added another finger.

"It’s so beautiful" you murmured to open your eyes and put your hands in her hair while caressing them as you were busy watching her arm full of tattoos moving as her fingers came in and out of you.

You groaned as you were excited even more by seeing his arm covered in tattoos.

He raised his head and noticed it and began to chew jokingly your ear making you moan.

"Do you like my tattoos? You would touch them real" he said in his ear and your pussy squeezed his fingers more making him giggle as she kissed your neck.

"So perfect and everything for me" Levi murmurs at every kiss he left on your neck as you began to trace his tattoos while you groaned feeling his fingers pumping more and more inside of you.

With a single shot you came and he sicchia your cum making you moan how sexy it was.

He smiled and kissed you.

[elvensorceress]

saturday snippet of longing and pining and being completely unaware of your own feelings! (feelings are hard, okay)

@tizniz @hippolotamus @livinginsunnyhell @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @thelikesofus @monsterrae1 @ronordmann @wh0rebehavi0r @epicbuddieficrecs @chaosandwolves @singitforthegirls @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @sofa-king-lame @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @blutterlie @sazanahashi @smilingbuckley @inell @bekkachaos @evaneds @rainbow-nerdss 💕

more of this 🥰

"I don’t know how anyone could not want you.”

Buck stares at him again with that piercing, soul-rending gaze that skewers directly through Eddie’s chest. But then Buck closes his eyes and shakes his head with a sardonic huff. “He’s straight. So. Doesn’t really work that way.”

Probably says something that Eddie’s first thought is, why not?

Why would it matter? Who would even care about sexuality if it were Buck offering his heart? Attraction is made up bullshit anyway. Who actually looks at someone and wants them when you know nothing about each other? Who wants to fuck just because they think someone is good looking? No one falls in love at first sight. It’s romanticized, telenovela fiction. And people lying to themselves because they’re lonely or want attention or orgasms or whatever. 

There’s a lot you can convince yourself of when you’re lonely, heartbroken, afraid you’ll die alone, afraid you’re a failure as a person, a husband, a partner. There’s a lot someone might do to be what other people want. There’s a lot that gets cut out and tucked away in order to be what you’re supposed to. 

All the more reason Eddie judges and dislikes anyone Buck dates. He’s totally justified. None of them get him and they don’t adequately appreciate him at all and Buck deserves all the love in the universe. At the very least, he deserves someone who will love him just as much and just as fiercely as Buck loves them. 

“Weren’t you ‘straight’ until Tommy?” Eddie asks. “Or— not that it was dependent on him, not that he did anything— but you thought you were straight until you realized you liked him. Right?” 

Buck looks at him, stares too hard at him for far too long and it makes goosebumps wash all over Eddie’s skin. The hair on the back of his neck prickles and swishing, churning flips through his stomach. 

“Yeah,” Buck answers quietly. “I don’t think that’s the case here though. Doesn’t matter. It’s not— It’s late. Too late. It’s really too late. We should sleep.”

Yeah. They should. Eddie has a long day of more packing to do tomorrow and another long distance tour with the realtor. Even if thoughts are whirling in his head. Too many thoughts. 

How does Buck know it’s unrequited? How does he know what he’s feeling now if he didn’t before? Did something change? How the hell would Tommy supposedly know if Buck didn’t know? 

How does Buck feel when he likes someone? 

How does anyone feel when they like someone? How do you know if you do? Is there supposed to be something you feel when you’re looking at someone beautiful? How would you know they’re beautiful if all you know about them is how they look? 

How do you feel anything for someone? Especially if you don’t know them? People say sex is better with someone you love, but is that more romanticized bullshit lies? Probably not. Sex is overrated honestly. It’s fine. Mostly. Just. Not what everyone seems to say it is. Nothing earth shattering or life changing. Nothing all that intimate either. Not technically. It’s just distant, avoidant, using each other for a moment of relief. He and Shannon did it so they didn’t have to talk. When they didn’t want to talk or actually be close. They didn’t have to go on dates or bare their souls or anything. They could just take off some clothes. 

Isn’t that what everyone does? Isn’t that the difference between dating someone versus being friends with them? 

Is it supposed to be different? Is that why people like sex? Because it’s different for them? 

Does anyone actually feel the kinds of intense, fervent, passionate emotions that people make up stories about? Isn’t romance just another fantasy? Like fairy tale magic and otherworldly phenomena? Like dragons and unicorns and mythical creatures? It’s a nice fantasy, but still a fantasy. None of it is real. 

Love isn’t sex or attraction or beautiful people being beautiful. None of that is love. 

Love is sacrifice. Connection. It’s blood and battle and being torn apart. Giving up everything because there’s no alternative. Because you’re not whole anymore without the person you love. They’re part of you. So losing them is losing yourself. 

Is that all love is? Loss? 

Eddie reaches out and holds onto Buck’s shoulder. They should sleep. He’s tired, too. But there’s heaviness in his chest and a swirl of despair whirlpooling inside him. It’s small now, but it’s been growing and he needs to hold onto Buck. 

When it’s not enough to just grip his shoulder, Eddie lets his hand slide down until it’s again resting on Buck’s chest and he can gently rub back and forth a few times. He hopes it’s comforting. He hopes Buck knows he’s not alone. Eddie won’t let him be alone. Someone will love Buck the way he should be. 

A wave of envious aching crashes through Eddie’s chest and he swallows hard. Buck should be loved. Buck is loved. Maybe not the way he wants. But Eddie loves him. Every beat, every breath, every single shred of his soul holds love for Buck. It might not be enough, but it is there. Eddie would love him until Buck finds someone he wants who loves him properly. 

Eddie would love him after that, too. Even when Buck is happy and settled and doesn’t need him anymore. 

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and holds it tightly as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t turn back around. And he doesn’t let go. 

Eddie just wants to inch closer and hold tighter. 

There’s something faded, slipping away like tides and wet sand through his fingers. 

Why can’t he keep this?

Why can’t this be the answer? Why can’t Eddie love him the way he wants? Why can’t Buck love Eddie this way? Why can’t they be in love with each other? 

[pret-boy]

I'll just answer these straight up because NOBODY LIKES ME!

1. Anywhere with my bf is great but I would love an arcade date. I wanna beat his ass at games. Or get my ass beat. Either way it's fun.

2. I just listen to mentally ill Vocaloid producers and Japanese twinks given musical talent please don't ask me anything like this again.

3. Being accepted unconditionally.

4. Taken I love my boytoy malewife husband I keep him in a small enclosure.

5. Many because I'm very very arospec and I "crush" on people for like 3 hours max and move on. So it's like a fun movie experience to me. If we're talking crushes that lasted at least a week that'd be like... six as far as I remember. People I've dated included.

6. People who are the opposite of me. I like women who are cool and collected and don't fuck with me (and older ideally) and men who are sad wet cats and would die if I looked at someone else. I've only dated the latter though. But generally I also really like people who have a darker aesthetic (regardless of personality) because I have a cutesy aesthetic and visually those are fucking awesome together.

7. Extremely. I speedrun crushes. I will crush on someone 30 minutes into knowing them (happened with my ex btw) and lose the crush the next day. I don't even know if they count as crushes they're like just a fun little thing to spice up an otherwise boring day for me.

8. I honestly don't care. I'd like something wholesome and fluffy though, like festive movies. Christmas movies yay!

9. Sunflowers and lilies.

10. Neither you nor I know. No one does. Divine inspiration strikes me at random. I don't know what a musical note even is but I composed and played a short tune for my ex on our anniversary out of fucking NOWHERE because I wanted to surprise him.

11. Idk.

12. Anything and everything really but giving I'm more of a quality time and words of affirmation person (with acts of service on the side), receiving I like quality time too.

13. My bf's been calling me "darling" lately and it really melts me like fucking butter. So cute.

14. No.

15. Not at the moment actually. I've been busy so I haven't gotten into any new media and my old fictional crushes fizzled out. Does my bf's oc count? I'm obsessed with them.

16. Both are good I'm not picky. If I had to pick, quiet. It's cuter. Yeah boy quiet down. I like men who know their place and shut the fuck up. I really liked this guy in my class who sat next to me and this other girl and we would yap the whole time while he sat there with his knees pressed together and hands folded in his lap like a good little Victorian maiden, not even uttering a single word. Like yep thats a good man right there. Keep that up.

17. Every man I relate to is bisexual. Because I said so.

18. My boyfriend. Pizza.

19. Can't let the hoes know my music taste lest I scare them.

20. Idk. I get a lot. I guess my boyfriend saying I'm scary and he finds it hot is the best recent one.

21. ALL WHEN YOU'RE MY BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE'S CUTE AS HELL!!!! But in general I love cheek kisses. I'm a serial cheek kisser. Toxic masculinity be damned my boy (me) can kiss his friends on their cheeks and hold them affectionately.

22. Back.

23. I won't say because it's an instant giveaway to who I am fr. I'm like the only man that insane about him.

24. NOTHING THAT BRINGS ME PLEASURE MAKES ME FEEL GUILT! I AM HEDONISTIC AND FREE!

25. I love PDA. Not hardcore making out in public or some shit but y'know.

26. Gently? Also with jokes and if I'm upset because of someone, hate on them and tell me you will hex them and they're ugly and doomed to die alone while I'm beautiful and a winner and god's favorite (all very true btw). I love envisioning my opps' downfalls.

27. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE! PLAYFUL BULLYING! PUTTING MY BELOVEDS IN A CAGE! BEING INSANE! YAPPING ABOUT THEM 24/7! MAKING THEM SCARED! MAKING THEM CRY! WAITING FOR THEM TO COME BACK WHEN THEY'RE BUSY! MAKING TIME FOR THEM! SENDING THEM THINGS THAT REMIND ME OF THEM! TELLING THEM ABOUT MY FATHER (I FUCKING HATE MY FATHER)! And of course comforting them and making them feel safe. Also beating the shit out of my loved one's enemies (for real) and praying on their misery. I have a lot of loving sadism in my heart but also I'm a sweetheart angel who loves people unconditionally and doesn't know what the word grudge means. Unless you're mean to my loved ones then I'll fucking kill you.

28. Both. Whatever my bf wanna be I'll be the opposite I'm a very accomodating and flexible man.

29. I love sad wet cat pathetic loser men so much I wish they were real.

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[vigilskeep]

Can we hear about the soap opera style second de riva?

oh sure

she’s the human mage daughter of the previous talon de riva and she’s also illario’s arranged married wife

viago killed her dad in order to replace him. she’s not angry abt this, actively. (she doubts anyone who had met her father could be angry about it.) but there IS underlying tension, how could there not be? viago could have killed her too, and instead has in some ways become like a brother to her. but in another world where he hadn’t gotten there first, house de riva might have been hers

illario did not want to marry her, she was picked out for him by caterina, to strengthen their house ties. to illario, it reads like an insult: she’s not a match meant for a future first talon, she was passed over and disinherited in her own house. she’s also a mage, which despite all caterina’s claims of it being a new era under the new divine and house dellamorte moving with the times, he suspects would be used against their branch of the family inheriting anything. he didn’t even want to get married in the first place, because he’s a chronic flirt here for a good time. and nobody is dragging lucanis back from tevinter to make him get married like he’s a pawn you can afford to sacrifice

his dissatisfaction means he continues to be a chronic flirt, with other people, after they’re married. she’s professionally humiliated, which is as good as personally humiliated for a crow; charm and beauty were skillsets of hers, she can’t even win over her own husband when it’s required to maintain the alliance in treviso, and everyone knows it? viago’s furious because it’s an insult to house de riva’s honour, too. (he’s being a protective big brother. which would be nice, if he could express it or indeed if he had acted on some of those instincts before agreeing to her being married off. read the contents of these brackets in teia’s voice.) all this is why she is still referred to as a de riva, because she kind of went back home to soothe tensions but without actually getting a divorce

she was obviously normal and rational about all of this, as she always is, a good, composed, collected crow, who has never lost her cool in training or on contracts or with her own father’s murdered body before her very eyes. she would like to clarify that the above events had no effect on her eventually lashing out at a certain antaam patrol and setting several things both metaphorically and very literally on fire. unrelated.

lucanis, on his return, immediately knows exactly what illario was like about it and is intensely mortified on behalf of his family, because he is a man with Romantic Standards. she thinks this is endearing and restrains herself from playing on his heartstrings about it too often. the deeply obvious thing to do here is have them fall in love for drama, that would be the maximum soap opera move, and to be clear i DO think it’s funny for illario to suddenly decide he does actually want his wife as soon as lucanis wants her, but honestly i just want lucanis to have one decent family relationship and this is how i can make that happen by force of will. and now not only is illario’s own wife siding with lucanis in the power struggle, but lucanis is replacing illario with her! we actually don’t need romance to make this deranged

thus i’m still debating the most amusing option on the veilguard team to sweep illario’s wife off her feet. i would love to see where almost any of them are going with this. emmrich, for example. and davrin with lucanis’ sister-in-law is obviously amazing (though i actually don’t think he’d go for a wealthy married human woman, i think he’s got more sense and/or self respect 😭). ultimately neve absolutely has a noir detective’s prerogative to win over a femme fatale with a rich husband who doesn’t treat her right so she would get dibs

[n0ahsebastians]

you can be all i got...

this is a little bit of a softer fic. i wanted to save the smut/sexual content for some other things i'm planning to write hehe

this was a request from someone so this is dedicated to that person <3

i hope you all enjoy this one, it's just pure fluff and softness <3

It was happening again. She was feeling worthless about herself, about this relationship. It happened every few months. At least it used to. It was more common now, with him being gone on tour and the band blowing up over the last couple years. She was in her head, her thoughts were scaring her. She really wanted this to work. It was working, or at least she had hoped it was. 

He was coming home tonight. It was their last show of the year and she was so excited to finally see him again. She was off work for the day, trying to keep herself busy from the awful thoughts floating through her head. What would she say to him? How was she supposed to tell him she was feeling awful about their relationship again? How was she supposed to explain to him that her friends talked about them as if she wasn’t in the room? She told him once and he told her to ignore them, that it meant nothing to him. She was important to him, more important than people talking stupidly about their relationship. It was childish honestly.

The front door opened while she was busy cleaning the dishes and she didn’t hear him come in. He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. She nearly dropped the dishes in the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, feeling her heart nearly plummet out of her chest. He chuckled, pressing his face into the nape of her neck. 

“Hi baby.”

“You scared me.” She had soap on her hands but rested them over his as he swayed them back and forth. 

“Sorry,” he kissed her cheek and then the top of her head. She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth against the back of her neck, the weight of him against her back comforting her. She could feel his lips against her temple, his breathing slow and calm as he held her. 

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, reaching for a towel to dry her hands. She turned in his grasp to face him, looking up at his so tired eyes and the dark circles that accumulated underneath him. She wanted to kiss away the lines in his forehead and take away all his tiredness. Everything that was bothering him, or maybe everything that was bothering her. 

“Missed you more.” He kissed her softly, pressing her gently against the counter, his hands around her waist. He could feel the tears falling against her cheeks gently. He pulled away from her, resting their foreheads together. 

“What’s wrong, love?”

She wanted to tell him but she didn’t want him to think she was being ridiculous. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way about them. To the public eye, and even to their friends, she had always been “the older woman”. 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…I’m happy you’re home.” 

“Something else’s wrong,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs along her cheekbones. She wouldn’t look at him, she couldn’t. It’s not that she felt any shame in them being together, she never had. But looking at him right now, in this very moment, seemed like it would just break her. 

“Will you look at me please?” 

No, she thought, I can’t look at you, it hurts too much. 

But she did. She looked into his eyes again, those eyes that were always so full of love and adoration for her. For their relationship, for everything that she was. She loved him, she did. But it was eating away at her, the thoughts of him leaving her, the thoughts of him thinking this wasn’t working anymore. 

“Talk to me,” he rested his forehead against hers again, listening to her soft breathing and feeling the warmth of her body against his. 

“I’m just…people are talking again, you know? About us.”

“So?”

Noah never felt the same way as everyone else did about them. When they first met, the band was just starting out, just making a break for themselves. He knew even then she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She wasn’t even much older than him; 6 years was nothing to him. To her it was a constant battle she was fighting everyday. 

“That doesn’t bother you?” 

“Why should it? They’re all assholes anyways.”

He was right of course. That didn’t change how she felt about any of it however. The reassurance was there but the thoughts wouldn’t leave.

“How can I make you understand that I don’t give a shit what all those people think about us? What your friends think? I don’t care. I really don’t. I love you, nothing’s going to change that. I’ve always loved you.” 

She wrapped her hands around his wrists, sniffling at his words. He was so sweet, the kindest person she had ever been with, probably ever in her life. She was so tired of feeling this way but it was hard. It was hard to put the thoughts aside even when he was saying how much he loved her and cared about them.

“Noah…”

“I love you. I need you to hear me right now, okay? I need you to listen to what I’m saying.” 

She nodded slowly, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. 

“You’re the love of my life. I don’t care if people think you’re too old for me, that doesn’t fucking matter to me, okay? You’re everything to me, I love you. I knew I loved you when I saw you planning our shows with Matt at the venues and I knew I loved you when you told me your favorite movie was ‘10 Things’. I loved you the first time we kissed and when you told me your favorite song of ours was ‘Careful What You Wish For’.”

“That’s a lot of times to realize you love someone,” she chuckled and looked down at the floor again. 

“Those were all the times I fell in love with you over and over again. Everything I saw you doing, saying, telling my friends, I knew I loved you every time. And it made me fall in love with you even more.”

She was crying now. She loved this man so much. She loved absolutely everything about him and more. 

“I love you,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheeks in her hands. 

“I love you so much, you have no idea.”

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, his lips soft against hers. He held her close as if she might disappear in his very grasp. Nothing else seemed to matter to either of them at that very moment in time, just the two of them in the four walls of their shared home. 

“I have something for you,” he says against her lips, giving her a small peck before reaching into his jacket pocket. A small box was retrieved and her lips parted at the sight of it. She didn’t want to look too much into it, but if it was what she thought…

“Noah…are you…?”

“I told you you mean everything to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.” 

He opened the box. A silver band with a small diamond nestled on top was inside. She felt her breath shudder, the diamond reflecting off the kitchen light above them. It was so simple but so beautiful. Almost a reflection of their relationship. Simple yet beautiful. 

“Marry me,” he voice shakes as he says the words, the words he’d been planning to ask for weeks. It was all he could think about during the last few weeks of the tour. 

“Are…are you s-serious?” she whispers, her hands shaking as she reaches for the small box. 

“Yes, so serious.” 

She laughs gently and it’s music to his ears. He’s in love with her, so deeply in love with her. He could not think of a better woman to spend his life with. It was her, it’s always been her.

“Yes,” she breathes, not even realizing she’d said the word. She’d say yes in a million universes to this man if she could. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes, of course, yes, I’ll…fucking marry you, Noah.” 

Their kiss is deep, saying a thousand more things than words ever could. It’s the words she wished she could say to all those fucking people ever doubted their relationship, all those people who ever said he would leave her for someone younger. It was everything he had told her to reassure her and more. It was everything. 

“I love you so much, baby,” he whispered, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her chin, everywhere that he could to make sure she knew how loved she was by him. 

“I love you, this is…wow.”

He placed the small band on her ring finger, watching the way it slid perfectly along the digit. 

“I measured one of your rings before I left,” he admitted, interlocking their fingers together to feel the band against his own skin.

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“How long have you been planning this for?”

“A few weeks, maybe like…two months.”

Her eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline. 

“You’ve been planning to ask me to marry you for two months?”

He shrugged, the corner of his lips moving up into a smirk. 

“You’re something else, Sebastian, you know that?”

“You love me.”

She did. “Yeah…yeah I do.”

[melliemell]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT.. POCKY GAME WITH THE BSD CAST (preferably Ranpo and Dazai, feel free to add whoever u want!!) MAKE IT ROMANTIC TOO PLZ I CANT GET THIS IDEA OUT OF MY HEAD🙏🙏🙏

LOTS OF LOVE - an anon who lost their glasses

👀👀this... this was too fun to write ohmygod you have no idea

Now you've managed to get me stuck on thoughts of silly little moments with those losers too aaAAAAAA I gotchu nonnie, you ask and I deliver😌

BSD Cast ft. Pocky Game

(Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Chuuya; high-key suggestive, blame them not me)

Dazai

“It’s a very delicate procedure.”

“Mmm, big boy business, I see.”

“Shush. Good students listen to their sensei first and give smartass remarks later. Now…” 

 It would be Dazai’s idea, not surprising in the slightest. The thing is, he’d be very convincing about this, all sweet smiles and an offhand remark how cute it’d be ‘cause couples are supposed to do sappy things, duh. An innocent enough suggestion, one you found amusing but nothing to bat an eye about. 

Until you add Dazai’s complete disregard for social norms and he’d be pulling those things out in the most embarrassing, inconvenient places he could think of. Mostly to annoy you, secondly to see how red in the face you’d get if he put you in a compromising situation. And oh boy do those happen often. 

One moment you’d be in the middle of discussing important work matters with Atsushi, the next Dazai’s sliding up in your personal space, pocky already hanging at his lips. Worst is he’d act as though this is your average activity, batting his lashes all sweetly at you as he waited. If you snap the pocky with your hand instead he’d react as though it was his heart you just crushed, you cruel beauty of his.

It’s all fine though, things considered. So long as he does get his kiss in the end. Behind some privacy this time.

Ranpo

No. Do not engage with this man in a pocky game, he will be an absolute menace about it.

Unlikely to suggest it himself as it means he’d have to share his snacks with you. Could be convinced if informed of the chance of getting free smooches though. But he’d whine about it, probably already munching on the pack you bought as you were explaining the rules to him.

In the case of you managing to save some for the actual thing…

“Yeah, yeah, can you get on with it? I wanna play already.”

Ranpo does not, in fact, play. The moment you get in place, both of you biting onto your respective side, Ranpo all but throws away any and all rule-information you gave. Who needs those? Only losers, that’s who.

He’s already bitten off almost the entirety of the pocky, lips finding yours a second later as his he pulls you in, hands smashing up your cheeks on both sides. You can practinally hear him munching on the chocolate which makes this all the more hilarious. Talk about mixed priorities. 

Second try goes just as the first one; any illusions of a game forgotten as you were pretty sure Ranpo’s impatience wasn’t quite something you were equipt for…

The third and final chance (last pocky, unfortunately he ate the rest) wasn’t really a chance, honestly. Not when you could just push him back on the couch and kiss him stupid as you climbed atop. 

He might get the remaining pocky later. Maybe.

Fyodor

“How charming.”

Would be amused by the whole thing. Unexpectedly easy to convince, and it gets even weirder as he calmly complies with the rules, nodding patiently. Before you know it you’re staring down at each other, one pocky distance between you two.

Not the type to rush into things, letting you get closer to him instead. Expect a lot of raised eyebrows and chaste kisses as you get through the whole pack. Did you think this was a one go thing? Silly you. A happy, satisfied partner is a compliant one, after all. Little things like this cost him nothing, but could bring a smile on your face. Why would he waste an opportunity like that?

Unlikely to push things further… but just as unlikely to stop you from leaving a few more kisses on him. One or two at the edge of his lips. One accidentally finding its way on his jaw. A trail of feathery brushes down his throat and soon he’d be getting the memo pretty well. 

You can’t help it. There’s something about Fyodor’s damned calmness that always leads to this. Maybe it’s the presence of character; something solid and secure before you that always manages to crawl under your skin. You’d be pulling at his shirt and trousers before you know it, pocky game entirely forgotten.

Chuuya

This one’s a trickie.

Chuuya’d be split between wanting to give in to your sillies, but also… why? Why this? Why not go to that nice and fancy restaurant he talked to you about? The one with the molten chocolate cakes; he’d treat you to all the sweets in the world if you’d ask him. 

Embarrassed at first, and trying his best to sneakily pull himself out of the situation. Until you finally manage to corner him, pocky box in hand and a roguish glint in your eyes.

Maybe it was his dignity, or maybe he was playing too much into the tough guy persona. But the moment you sat him down, a winner’s determination written all over your face– oh, no. Hell no, this was on.

Forget about any cute couple moments. Oh nono, it was all narrowed eyes and prolonged stares of intense analysis, each trying to predict the others’ move. One wrong decision, just the slightest distraction and–

Before Chuuya had you round the waist, rolling you suddenly on the bed as a panicked yelp flew from your lips. The absolute ass. And he’d be laughing about it too, looking down at your sprawled form with the goofiest smile, trying to bite into his lower lip to stifle yet another fit. 

“You all good, sweets? Guess ya lost this round.”

And you’d pull him down, your breath ghosting over his widening grin.

“We’ll see about that.”

[rebelssvy]

savior

kirishima x reader

✧.*

LABELS; fluff, a LITTLE TINY BIT OF ANGST, he saves your life. and you unknowingly start his.

you fell in love with him after he saved your life.

red riot had always caught your eye on tv. being all handsome and manly, you would be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on the hero.

never did you think he would save you. being held at gun point after being stuck in a minor robbery. he jumped into action. stuffing himself between you and the bullet.

but he was just doing his job.

the shock from the events caused you to pass out as soon as you realized you were still alive.

little did you think that when you woke up, he would be sitting at the foot of your hospital bed.

“hello.” you spoke in a cautions tone. sitting up slightly.

you examined him. there was no way this was real. maybe they drugged you up too much and you were hallucinating.

“hi.” he said flashing you a smile. he was prettier in person. still manly, but now that you could see all his features. you realized he was more human then you could imagine.

“why are you here?” you asked him calmly. maybe you were dying and the nurses knew this was your last wish. you thought to yourself

his cheeks grew a tinted red. subtle, but you picked up on it.

“do you do this with every girl you save?” you asked in a joking tone. giggling to yourself.

you knew how vulnerable you looked right now, it was embarrassing really. sporting the gown, all hooked up to tubes. it was excessive.

“no i don’t.” he chuckled out. straightening his posture in his chair before continuing.

“this is going to sound so weird, but just trust me for a second….” he spoke with hesitation. unsure of what he was going to say.

“can i please have your number. i think your gorgeous, beautiful, anything you could think of i think you are.” he said staring directly at you.

you were in shock. the air in your lungs left without you knowing it.

you had to collect yourself before responding.

“i think it’s the least i could do, considering you saved my life..” you spoke honestly. hoping you wouldn’t mess up your chance.

kirishimas face grew into a huge smile.

in actuality he wanted to tell you what he had actually been thinking, he had trained his entire life for a moment like this.

and he was pretty sure saving you was his sole reason he was put on the earth.

✧.*·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ✧.*·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱

- UGHHH HES SO BABY GIRLLL 😍😍

[leqclerc]

I honestly can’t believe I’m making a post like this but it’s impossible to pretend it’s just another race weekend and my life is continuing on as normal when it’s not.

Last night I lost my beloved dad, completely unexpectedly. He wasn’t battling an ongoing illness, but thankfully it wasn’t a tragic accident – his body just shut down and he never woke up from his afternoon nap. Just like that, gone far too soon and unfairly young.

I’m a very private and honestly quite shy and introverted person and I always tried to keep my private life from bleeding over excessively onto here, or my online persona in general, as online communities, and particularly the fandom here on Tumblr, though not always perfect, are my means of escape, a way to channel my passion, and all the intense feelings that come from following F1. But I can’t bear to say nothing about this at all and pretend all is well, when a big part of my F1 watching rituals was my dad.

There’s just three of us in our immediate family: me, my mom, and my dad. We functioned as a trio, as a close-knit team. It wasn’t always perfect, but we complemented each other; balanced each other out. When I got too high-strung or stressed he’d offer solace, advice, his sharp wit and incredible sense of humour.

Whenever we were at home we’d sit down and watch the races together. He wasn’t as deeply invested as I was – which sometimes irked me, like when he’d doze off in the middle of a “boring” race – but he was very knowledgable. He knew who my favourites were, of course, and always kept an eye out for them, how they were doing. It was incredible to have someone to react with, to discuss with, to talk strategy with, to laugh with. For the past ten years it’s been our ritual. We’d get the snacks out, get the broadcast on, and watch together. A lot of my feverish liveblogs were created during these watch sessions. He was there as I experienced some of the most beautiful and heartbreaking moments in the sport. He knew how much it meant to me and even if he wasn’t as much of a fan as I was, he did it all because he knew how much it meant to me. He knew I would check the schedule and we’d plan our family Saturday shopping trips around the calendar, as much as we could, so we’d always be back in time for qualifying. He was there with me for every race, even the early morning ones. When we weren’t at home and I had to watch the race “in the wild” he’d do everything to facilitate that. When we were apart and couldn’t watch together he’d text me about the races, or talk it over later on a phone call.

Over the past two years we visited Monaco and Maranello together, and I couldn’t be more grateful that he insisted on it, even when we had to travel far, even when it wasn’t convenient and we were about to take it off the list. He always found a way to make things work – for me. Because he knew I cared and he knew it would make me happy, that they were my little dream trips. Me and my mom were his whole world and he always did everything to put us first, to make sure we felt it.

I feel empty and numb. I lost a piece of myself that I can never ever get back. I lost an incredible dad and a true, loyal friend. I’m grateful for all the moments we shared and heartbroken for the ones that will never be. We were supposed to have so much more time. Watching races will never be the same again. Nothing will ever be the same again. I will miss him more than words could ever express. I love you, I miss you.

[rahuratna]

I honestly needed a moment to appreciate just HOW MUCH you poured into this story. I'm going to start by saying that this is such an incredibly evocative take on a 'grey' version of Nanami. It captures the essence of who he'd be without being bound to duty and sacrifice: Nanami the hedonist. I can't believe I just typed that, lol, and thank you for allowing me to do that, truly.

Firstly, the choice of 'The Tempest' as the play they are watching is wonderful. The idea of freedom from constraints, whether physical or not, ties in so beautifully with the Dorian Grey AU idea. Nanami's union with the reader later becomes exactly this, a means to break free from the chains that tie him to the past and prevent him from healing fully. He becomes a hedonist in the fullest sense, but without the pathos and sordid nature of the character of Dorian Grey. Nanami, instead, returns to a scarred self that is more whole and beautiful for its truth.

Kat, just writing this out is making me realise how marvelously you've pulled this off.

Furthermore, there's something so rich and lush in your writing of this one. Your story is packed with sensuous detail, such as the way their anticipation and excitement reaches a crescendo during the course of the play. I love the way that was written, and I felt every moment of it, that familiar sensation of knowing someone you admire and desire could, in all likelihood, become your lover. That entire scene is just injected with that specific type of electric longing.

Then there was the conversation between them, echoing so beautifully some of the interactions between Dorian and Basil in the book. While Basil falls under Dorian's spell (and is wholly wretched because of it) here we see your take on a reversal of roles, where Nanami becomes entranced with the reader, enough to allow her into his inner sanctum, not so much the show of trust as a means to relieve himself of the burden he has been carrying.

This is where your portrayal of his character shines: he never loses his quiet fortitude, his desire for something better for himself, a way out of the labyrinth that eternal beauty would give him. Nanami would never be satisfied with that status quo, even as a 'grey' character. His need to be seen as his true and authentic self would always win.

Then there's the intimate scene between them. Phewwwwww. Kat. The passion between them was off the charts and in a FULLY MIRRORED BEDROOM of all things. Thank you for this blessing. 😭

But again, I have to delve deeper into that and marvel, once again, at the thought you put into the symbolism here. He makes her look at herself, and him in his scarred form, a complete and TRUE union, since a mirror shows you all your flaws and your beauty, in unrelenting detail.

And the final scene, in which she looks up at the mirror and sees their lovemaking in all its glory, her realisation at that point that what they are creating is beautiful for the truth and purity of its form, the most intimate of acts without concealment or the deception of an enchanted portrait, is such a fulfilling end to this stunning  tale.

Kat, thank you for giving me such a glorious read this evening. I took my time and relished every moment of it.

A "The Picture of Dorian Gray"!- inspired Nanami fic in two acts (From my Jjk Penny Dreadful Series-here)

*°࿐ Synopsis: After a harrowing escape from the hell of Shibuya, Nanami Kento finds a dark, twisted method to conceal the deep wounds forever etched on his flesh and spirit. He relocates to Malaysia, shedding his former identity in search of s fresh start, driven by the allure of an hedonistic lifestyle. He quickly resigns himself to a solitary existence, prioritising secrecy above all else's -that is, until one evening at the theatre, when your paths fatefully cross. What will happen next in this unfolding tale of tragedy and rebirth?

*°࿐Tags: Act 2- Nsfw + dark content (Katoptronophilia- mirror kink, softdom!nanami, fem! masturbation, pinv, breeding kink, graphic description of scar and injuries)

This work is part of the SPOOKINKY 2024 event hosted by @tsukimefuku 🖤

"Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic (...)Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing." -Oscar Wilde

࿐✧˖*° Fic Moodboard here✧˖*°࿐

Beneath the dim, flickering glow of the bakery where you work everyday, you move like a shadow, wiping the counter where the day’s sweet offerings linger—croissants, chocolate éclairs—fragrant remnants of a life half-lived. The scent clings to you, comforting yet oppressive, as you linger on the past. A year has passed since you fled into this quiet corner of Malaysia, seeking escape, yearning for the hum of the ocean outside your window. Here, in the solitude of this bakery, you’ve become a ghost—part of the background, invisible to all but the clock and the empty tables.

Yet tonight, something stirs deep within you. At the end of your shift, you return to your cozy apartment, heading to your bedroom to let your fingers graze the golden ticket on your nightstand, a silent promise of a dream that has been lingering in your personal space for weeks: The Tempest. Tonight, the magic of Shakespeare’s world will finally become your own. You slip into the emerald night dress you bought for this occasion, catching a fleeting glimpse of a brand new woman reborn in the mirror, staring back with a defiant gaze.

…

The air of the theater hums with electricity as you step inside, your dress shimmering like a forest at dusk. Eyes turn, glances linger. The crowd falls into a hush, a soft murmur ripples through the room. You feel their gaze��a strange, unknown sensation, both exhilarating and disquieting- you’re definitely not used to being the focus of the attention around you. As you navigate the rows to your seat, eager to find yours and hide among the crowd of faces, a chill runs down your spine. There, across the balcony, a familiar figure watches you—a tall, elegant man, poised in a timeless black tuxedo.The tailored jacket hugs his athletic frame,  the deep midnight black fabric contrasting strikingly with his fair complexion. A white pocket square elegantly peeks out from the breast pocket, while a finely knotted bow tie adds a sophisticated touch. His reserved nature, shadowed by a hint of intrigue, seems to enchant every woman in the auditorium, inviting curiosity from all who cross his path. With an air of mystery that surrounds him, he garners attention effortlessly, embodying both charm and enigma in every subtle movement.

It’s him—Mr. Nanami, the enigmatic man who has haunted the bakery for months. Always at his corner table, always with a book in hand, always distant, as though carved from some distant age. His gaze is now fixed on you, unblinking, his caramel eyes drinking in every movement you make. Even among the crowd, he is a statue, an artifact of mystery, his blonde hair gleaming under the theater’s lights, his presence too immense to ignore.

«If by your Art, my dearest father, you have

put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,

But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,

Dashes the fire out.»

The character of Miranda finally speaks, signalling the start of the play. Lights go off, the world fading into darkness around you, but his gaze never wavers. It pulses between you, an electric current that thrums in your chest. Even as the actors bring the stage to life, Nanami’s attention is all on you. His eyes trace the delicate curve of your neck, they notice the way the silk of your dress clings to your feminine figure—every movement, every breath amplified. In the silence between the scenes, memories of brief encounters in the bakery flood both of your minds—small gestures, the fleeting brush of hands as you served his command. Every mundane act now seems to acquire a deeper meaning, hinting at the long buried electricity now resurfacing in all of its power.

The actors' words echo in your mind, their tale of rediscovery mirroring your own. You feel the thread between you and Nanami tighten with each passing scene. Your heartrate is accelerates inexplicably, his hands itch imperceptibly. By the play's end, the applause is drowned by the weight of his gaze, a fleeting glance that feels like an unspoken invitation. The crowd fades, and you are lost in the depths of his eyes—amber pools that seem to hold unspeakable secrets. What darkness lingers behind them? What truths lie hidden beneath his composed exterior?

In that moment, you are both spectator and part of the story, caught between the stage and the gaze of the man who watches you from the shadows, as if you are both part of the same forgotten tale.

The applause swells, a rising tide of sound that drowns everything around you. The faces blur, the claps echo like thunder, and your senses are swept into the frenzy. Yet, goosebumps rise along your exposed back, a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold. In the midst of chaos, your consciousness fails to identify the tall figure slipping quietly behind you, a shadow stretching long across your seat. But your body doesn't: every fiber of your being tenses in alert, time stretching as if waiting for something to happen at any moment.

Nanami’s hand lingers for a heartbeat before resting on your shoulder, a firm, yet gentle touch. The unexpected pressure makes you gasp, the sound barely a whisper.

"Mr. Nanami... What a surprise," you murmur, turning to face him, your voice trembling like a prayer as you feign surprise. His name spills from your lips, the remnants of the performance still thick in the air.

"Good evening, Mrs... I apologize for the intrusion," he says, his tone softer than you expected. "I saw you in the crowd and... I couldn't resist."

His apology is followed by a smile—small, sincere, and unlike the elusive stranger you’ve come to know. You blink in disbelief, caught off guard by this sudden warmth.

"Good evening," you reply, your words stammered. "No need to apologize. I’m glad you noticed me." Beneath the surface, you are deeply surprised by the fact that he did really recognize you, a simple waitress, a face everyone easily forgets.

He chuckles softly, eyes flickering with interest as he watches you. "The actors were amazing tonight, weren't they?" he continues, easing into the conversation. " Yes, indeed” you answer “I've always been fond of drama... the way music, scenery, poetry, and dance all blend into one living thing."

He catches the spark igniting your eyes as you speak, lost in your own enthusiasm. "Yes, I think it's the perfect kind of art... a fusion of all forms. A single experience woven from many threads."

He watches you, entranced by your remarkable passion for arts. Nanami always secretly thought you looked beautiful, admiring your kind nature from afar while you served tables at the bakey. But tonight he can't help feeling drawn to your every movement, noticing every detail of you, the most attractive woman he has ever laid eyes on in a while. Suddenly a low chuckle escapes him, catching you by surprise: "A real aesthete, aren’t you? I think I’ve finally found a worthy companion for my abstract musings." He muses.

You smile back, amused by the compliment. "So…you are... an ‘aesthete’ too?" you ask playfully.

"Ah... I prefer the term hedonist. There's a difference. An aesthete merely appreciates beauty for its own sake. A hedonist seeks to immerse themselves in it, to live for the pleasure it brings. Do you understand?" He smiles wryly.

You nod, half-missing the full meaning. "It makes sense to me... though 'hedonism' isn't a word you hear much these days."

At your remark, something flickers in his eyes—a momentary hesitation. His gaze drifts away, as though lost in a distant thought. Then he snaps back,as shaken from a dream.

"I have a question for you," he says, his voice now heavier. "Since you’re so drawn to this kind of topic... what do you think? Does life imitate art, or is it art that imitates life?"

You blink, caught off guard. His question is as profound as it is unsettling. Sensing your confusion, he continues, voice tightening with a quiet vulnerability.

"I know it sounds tautological... contradictory, even. But these thoughts are born from years of reflection, of trying to make sense of life."

He pauses, and for a moment, the air between you thickens with unspoken tension. The weight of his words settles around you, and you sense his inner battle—fear of revealing too much.

"Life is indeed the most intricate of masterpieces," you say softly, your voice soothing the strain in his words. "But I believe we create it. We choose the colors, the shapes, the shadows of our existence."

His eyes soften, a long, silent moment passing between you. Then, as though the walls around him have cracked, he sighs, and his words spill out.

"I’ve always had a special sensitivity... but my past... it hardened me, consumed me. I spent years hiding from it, burying my feelings beneath logic and calculation. And when I finally faced those demons, I realized..." He trails off, the confession hanging between you.

You wait, breath held, as he collects his thoughts. "I thought the pleasures of art and literature were gone forever. I thought I had lost them. But then..." He falters again, lost in the depths of his own emotions.

You try to simplify his cryptic confession. "So... you retired early and moved to Malaysia, didn't you? It's not something to be ashamed of, it's common practice here, Malaysia is such a dreamy place. I myself have left everything behind and fled here…" You try to make him feel at ease, failing to notice the deeper meaning behind his words.

His lips curled up in a faint smile, a touch of sadness in his eyes. How could such a pure soul like yours grasp the horrors hidden behind his elegant appearance? "Yes... escaping a life I didn’t recognize anymore seemed the only choice I had a year ago."

You smile back, unaware of the weight of his past, yet moved by his vulnerability. "It seems like we both needed to escape something,then" you say gently.

He watches you intensely, and for a moment, the shadows of his past flicker in his gaze, along if something else- quiet admiration for your spontaneous genuineness. Then, without warning, he clears his throat, inviting you to continue your discussion elsewhere:

"I hope you won’t misunderstand," he says, his voice low and hesitant. "But...would you join me for a drink tonight? I’d love to continue this conversation... and perhaps share a book with you. If you'd allow me."

You accept without hesitation, the thrill of the unknown surging through you. Walking side by side along the moonlit shore, your steps are light, the air thick with possibility. The evening unfolds before you, a path leading to an unseen discovery, your heart fluttering, unaware of the darkness that lurks just beyond the light of the moon, reflected inside his golden irises.

The ebony door creaks open, a haunting sound that reverberates through the dimly lit corridor as Nanami, with an air of quiet dignity, unlocks the entrance to his home, his quiet sanctuary. Leaning forward, he flicks the light switch, and with a courteous gesture, steps aside, allowing you to cross the threshold. Click. A warm, golden light floods the space, spilling like liquid amber into the darkness, inviting you into the treasure trove that is Nanami's home.

As you step inside, the musty scent of aged books mingles with a faint undertone of turpentine, whisking you away to a distant realm where art and literature reign supreme. The air is thick with stories untold, whispers of creativity echoing off the walls. Each available inch of wall space is claimed by an eclectic mix of paintings, their colors vibrant against the deep shadows. Books of every genre crowd every angle of the refined, tastefully furnished open space that stretches before you. Your eyes widen, your jaw drops; you are mesmerized, trying to absorb every intricate detail of this artistic sanctuary.

"I hope this is to your liking," Nanami's amused chuckle pulls you from your reverie, his voice like a gentle breeze stirring the still air.

"This... all of this... is yours? The paintings, the books, the antiques? How...?" You stammer, incredulous, as you survey the vast collection that feels both intimate and monumental.

"Yes," he replies, a contemplative smile gracing his lips as he leans against the doorframe, the shadows dancing across his features. "This collection is my legacy, the thing I’m most proud of..." His voice trails off, and as you admire his possessions, you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you, filled with a blend of longing and admiration. In his mind, your figure blurs with the contours of the most graceful of Aphrodites, the missing piece of his collection, the first soul to step into his sanctuary after a long, lonely stretch of time. He watches you spin around his living room, a vision of grace in a flowing dress that clings to your curves like a delicate drapery on a marble statue.

He could grow accustomed to this sight, to you... And in that fateful moment, he lowers his guard, granting you access to the most secluded part of his soul, a realm he has shielded jealously over the years. "Why don’t you take a tour of the house while I pour us a drink? What do you prefer: Cabernet or Whiskey?" he asks, his genuine smile like a rare gem in the dim light.

"Thank you, I’d like to explore your collection further… as for the drink… you choose, surprise me," you reply chuckling mischievously, a thrilling tension crackling in the air as your eyes lock with his, an electric connection that sends shivers down your spine.

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you venture deeper into the labyrinthine layout, navigating narrow corridors flanked by towering shelves that groan under the weight of Nanami's extensive collection. Each step draws you further into his world, a place where dreams and memories intertwine.

As you explore, you ascend the stairs to the first floor, stumbling upon a cozy library. A plush, crimson armchair beckons you, piled high with dog-eared paperbacks and a precarious tower of art monographs. The adjacent bookshelf stands as a shrine to literary giants—Austen, Dickens, Joyce—their timeless works nestled alongside a first edition of Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea."

You are about to descend when something catches your eye: A door at the end of the corridor is slightly ajar, challenges you, invites your curiosity. A thrill courses through you, an all-consuming desire to uncover the mystery hidden within. Drawn by an unseen force, you approach, your heart racing as your trembling hand hovers over the doorknob. With a gentle push, you swing the door open, and a sudden burst of light slices through the darkness, momentarily blinding you. As your vision clears, you find yourself staring at your own reflection, an astonished figure in a green dress, caught in the web of shadows.

Stepping further into the room, you realize you’ve entered Nanami's peculiar bedroom. A quilted round bed dominates the space, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors that create a dizzying effect, reflecting your image endlessly in the dim light. Your gaze travels, and you find a portrait hanging on the wall—a blond man who looks strikingly like Nanami, but marred by burn scars that crisscross his body like a roadmap of pain, telling a story of flames that once ravaged his skin. His eyes, a deep, piercing gold, seem to harbor the weight of those infernos, a flicker of fire still smoldering within.

“Is this... Nanami?” you whisper to yourself, disbelief coursing through you.

"So you found out..." a faint, emotionless voice emerges from the shadows, and you immediately turn: Nanami stands on the threshold, his attractive features marred by a mask of suffering and resignation. He holds a single book in his hands: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

"Nanami... I didn’t mean to intrude. The door was slightly open, and I..." you stammer, searching for an excuse. " But…What is this? Who is the man in the portrait?" you finally manage to ask, your voice trembling with confusion.

His gaze drops to the floor, a deep sadness enveloping him. "I wanted to lend you this book…maybe it would have helped you better comprehend this situation of mine. I’ve always related to Wilde’s work…and its Preface holds everything I’ve painfully learnt about life” his words ring hollow in your ears, emptied of any meaning. “This portrait... It represents the state of my soul. This... is what I really look like." His voice is heavy with truth, and the weight of his words hangs in the air like a dark cloud.

A storm of questions swirls in your mind, casting you into a sea of panic, while your gaze flashes between him and the man of the picture "This...  it can't be real. Nanami, what really happened? What is this story about?"

"Please, listen to me..." he interrupts, his tone now urgent, demanding your full attention. "Over a year ago, I was involved in an accident in Shibuya,on the night of Halloween and got severely injured. I barely managed to survive, but half of my body was burned, damaged irreparably..."

He takes a step closer, his expression lost as he struggles to share his truth. "When I woke up in a hospital bed, I took a look in the mirror, and realized I would have never been the same man I was.” He pauses, trying to steady his accelerated breath “ seeing my condition, an old friend of mine decided to set off, travelling the world for weeks in search of a way to restore my appearance. And I thought he had returned victorious at first, when he proposed to me an ancient curse allowing me to channel all of my pain and ugliness into that portrait. So I ended up switching places with the man now hanging above my bed. My friend helped me escape to start anew in this secluded place of Earth, but the truth is that this was never meant to be a blessing…with time I fell prey of the illusion of my appearance, trapping myself in a cage of mirrors, constantly afraid to see my real aspect resurfacing…I’ve been such a fool to forget the real nature of this expedient: a curse will always be always a curse"

He retreats, hiding behind a wall of shame and guilt. "I don’t expect you to understand. You know nothing of the world of sorcery from which I came... and...I wouldn't blame you if you turned your back at me now, pointing at me like a devil…"

As he fights to suppress the lump in his throat, you stand in front of him, your knees threatening to give in at every word spilling from his mouth. But it's in this moment that you see his true nature for the first time—a broken man, whose defenses are now crumbling under the weight of his long-buried secrets. "I’ve missed my chance with you, I cannot hide from the monster I’ve become," he whispers, his voice cracking with guilt and regret.

Without thinking, you step forward, closing the distance between you. Nanami's breath hitches as your hesitant hand cups his chiseled jaw, grounding him in the moment. It is high time to free him from the demons of his past.  "Destroy the picture, Nanami... don’t let that portrait weigh down your soul any longer." 

Your words provoke an earthquake into Nanami's world: his eyes widen, meeting the compassionate determination in your gaze. "And this doesn't change anything, I’m not leaving…You don’t have to hide anymore, not from me," you say softly, knowing in your heart that this moment could be the key to unlocking the darkness that has held him captive for far too long.

…

His resolve wavers as he gazes upon your lips, mere inches away from his, a tantalizing promise lingering in the air. The last thread of self-control snaps when you pull him closer, pressing your curves against his sculpted form. In that intoxicating moment, he crashes his mouth to yours, a desperate kiss that spills forth your insecurities in a breathless plea for understanding. Lips collide, and the world fades, leaving just the two of you suspended in a cocoon of time and space. 

Fingers roam restlessly, exploring, dancing over each other’s bodies in a fervent embrace, like lightning illuminating a starless sky with passion's raw energy. The kiss deepens, heats, igniting flames of longing as he pins you against the cool surface of the mirror, your bare back shivering at the sudden chill. He looms over you, strong and commanding, tension rippling through his broad shoulders before he seizes the lower edge of a golden-framed picture, throwing it to the ground with a shattering crash. 

The echo reverberates through the room, breaking the spell that held you. As the cursed image lies in shards, you blink to find the real Nanami before you, a man sculpted by both fire and fate, his scars merely facets of a twisted charm. He holds his breath, waiting for your response, his vulnerability laid bare in the depths of his eyes. 

You stay silent at first. Your trembling fingers deftly start to unbutton his shirt, tracing a path from fine fabric to the rough, fibrous tissue of his burned skin. “You look even more handsome in my eyes now,Nanami... ripped at every edge but still holding your original charm, like the finest masterpiece” you finally speak, voice thick with emotion “you’re strong, you can heal. Let me help you, please... let me…” The weight of your invitation hangs in the air, a siren's call that stirs something deep within him. He hesitantly captures your wandering hand, “Are you sure?” he asks, his forehead resting against yours, a silent confession of both uncertainty and deep care. 

In answer, you push his shirt off his shoulders, your hands gliding over the contours of his biceps, igniting a wildfire in his chest long thought extinguished. You offer him compassion and heartfelt affection, and in that moment, he feels worthy of love again. “I am sure, Nanami… give me all of you without restraints tonight…show me you’re willing to start anew” 

“Fuck,” he gasps, his hands gripping your waist, spinning you around to face the mirror. “See how stunning you look? You are too much for me now,do you understand it?” He desperately spits out through gritted teeth “but if you choose to give yourself to me tonight, know that there will be no turning back. I won’t accept being left alone tomorrow...” His breath tickles your neck as he nibbles at your soft skin, pulling back to meet your gaze with a gravity that sends shivers down your spine. “What do you say? Do you accept my condition?” 

“Yes,” you simply breathe out, eyes locked on the reflection before you, feeling small yet cherished in his powerful embrace. “I guess I am the luckiest of  men, then…” His warm breath cascades over the delicate flesh behind your ear, a relieved smile curling against your skin as you tremble between his arms. 

“I could hold you like this forever…” he whispers, tracing the line of your spine with his index finger. His hands find the thin straps of your dress, gently coaxing them down your shoulders. The silky fabric slips away, pooling at your feet, revealing you in all your glory. “You are a masterpiece here, the most exquisite work of art I have ever seen.”

His gaze drifts to the mirror, breathless as he drinks in the sight of your curves, fingers exploring the valley between your breasts, brushing against your hardened nipples with a soft touch that ignites a deep groan from his throat. “Look at you; I’m going to worship every inch of your delicious body tonight, just like a painter brushing the pure canvas in front of him, I will paint your body with pleasure and reverence” With a confident caress, his hand glides down, cupping your sex, igniting a spark of longing that makes your breath hitch. 

“Nanami,” your voice is a prayer, each syllable infused with need as he parts your folds, cool air colliding with your now exposed clit. His experienced fingers start to explore your womanhood and a shiver dances along your spine “So soft,so wet for me already… keep those beautiful eyes open for me,I want you to watch as we create a work of art of pleasure tonight.” his other hand cups your chin, preventing you from looking away from your entwined image.

He moves with purpose, fingers drawing delicate circles on your sensitive nub, escalating your breaths into gasps. “You know, I’ve always believed that sex is a form of art—the highest, perhaps. The sensations it creates, the way bodies merge in a symphony of unbridled passion…” His rhythm quickens, pressure mounting until you scream his name, your body arching as waves of pleasure crash over you. 

“Let it happen, just like that, give in to it, feel the way your body yearns for mine” he encourages you, guiding you throughout your climax with his confident ministrations. “Look at you now,” he cups your jaw, tilting your head to see the beauty of your flushed cheeks and wild hair. “You are alive… the essence of beauty.” His kisses scatter across your skin, igniting every nerve, his hardness pressing against your plush curves, a testament to his hunger. 

His veiny hands unfasten his belt, pulling down his elegant pants to reveal himself to you: a glorious display of manhood, standing proud and ready in the mirror facing you. The base is girthy, the long shaft crossed by a single bluish vein up to the swollen tip, already for glistening with precum “look what your beauty does to me” his hips jacks forward instinctively as he notices the hunger in your eyes “Ready?” he asks once more, searching your gaze for any hint of doubt before entering you slowly from behind, his eyes locked on yours in the reflective surface, watching as pleasure and pain intertwine on your face. 

He’s barely halfway in but you already feel him everywhere, a melding of flesh and desire driving you mad as he fills you completely. A strangled groan escapes him. “fuck, you're too tight… "His eyes flutter shut as he revels in the sensation of your snug channel stretching apart for him, sweaty pearls coaxes his forehead, brows furrowed in concentration “you were made for me.” He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your intoxicating scent as he stills for a moment, savoring the connection of your entwined bodies. 

When his hips begin to move, there is no gentleness—only a primal need. He slams against you, each thrust sending you gasping against the mirror, fingers clutching the golden frame for support. Your body turned into a canvas painted with pleasure: head tilted back, throat exposed, breasts heaving with each  fervent thrust, trembling legs on the brink of surrender.  The smacking sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberates, a wild melody echoing in the room as you surrender to the rhythm of ecstasy, bodies swaying in perfect synchronicity. 

Together, you reach the precipice of bliss. The mirror captures the art of your union, an abstract painting of two entwined souls—calling out each other’s names, your bodies slick and sticky, pressed together in a tender embrace. In that moment, you know that this is more than just a union of bodies; it is a celebration of art, love, and the unyielding spirit of desire.

 Nanami’s eyes roll back as he feels you envelop him in a fierce grip, but he forces his gaze open, eager to witness the masterpiece unfolding before him. “I'm almost there…” He announces, grunting in your ear as he surrenders to your magic. Warm spurts of his very essence paint your walls white, making you his in the most primal of ways. He groans in pride and delight when the glass reflects the lewd sight of his overflowing seed dripping down your leg. Turning to face him, a loving smile dances upon both of your lips, the calm after a storm. “That was incredible, my diamond… thank you for sharing this masterpiece with me,” he murmurs, placing gentle kisses upon your closed eyelids, the warmth of his damp hair brushing against your forehead. “You’ve shown me that with you, I can finally find my way back to beauty.” He nuzzles your noses together, laughter bubbling forth as he regards you with a playful glint in his eye. “But I fear I need more from you tonight… are you ready for another round?”

You nod, a spark reigniting within you, a shared yearning to delve deeper into the connection that has blossomed between you in the stillness of the night. Without warning, he lifts you off the ground, effortlessly cradling you in his arms, bridal-style, and carries you toward his round bed, laying you down upon the luxurious velvet sheets. The sensation takes your breath away, and you gaze up at him, wide-eyed with wonder.

He kneels at your feet, crawling onto the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along your calves, thighs, and stomach, until he reaches your lips. For a moment, he pauses, studying your moonlit features, before pushing himself into your inviting warmth once more. This time, there is no urgency; instead, he makes love to you with a tenderness that transcends flesh, his thrusts slow and deep, punctuated by soft kisses and feather-light caresses. You gaze upward at the mirror hanging from the ceiling, capturing your supine figure beneath his muscled torso, tensing with every intimate movement.

In that sacred moment of Epiphany, the truth unfurls before you: together, you and Nanami create a beauty that has always eluded you both, a beauty that defies the boundaries of time and space, a masterpiece beyond convention. You were each other’s missing piece. Each creak of the bed beneath you resonates with magic, a spell binding you to this moment of bliss and rebirth, witnessed by every mirror surrounding you.

“We are art,” you lean in and whisper into his ear, your voice filled with newfound conviction, as the night wraps around you like a cloak, and the shadows dance in celebration of your fateful union.

Thanks for reading this far!🙏

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated 💕

Don't repost my works without permission.

[ronearoundblindly]

https://www.tiktok.com/@yeuyeutp/video/7417104012320754977?_t=8pwVPUhpxbq&_r=1

I thought this is so cute! Which Cevans characters are letting you swatch your makeup on them? I can already tell with characters like Lloyd, he’s gonna be like ‘fuck that shit’ 😭😂 Ransom is gonna whine like he always does for sure ‘Why are you putting this sparkly shit on me 😡🤬’

Link here. Sorry this took so long, but I finally got the inspiration to answer this one while sifting through asks! Warning for an f-bomb or two. No, it was not avoidable. We shall call this the "Black Friday Shopping Edition" of Who Would...

James Mace

Honestly finds it all useless and dumb. Thinks you're beautiful without all this sh*t on your face. Abhors glitter and will riot if you get it on him at any time. Rants about all the plastic packaging and how it's bad for the environment.

Curtis Everett

He cannot believe the prices. Curtis is incapable of walking around the store without pointing out this $25 thing that's--turns tube over--"POINT FIVE FLUID OUNCES?! Honey, just no."

You strategically stand in front of the $45 products while nudging him out of the store. Come back alone or with a friend. Curtis is not your man for this.

Jimmy Dobyne

Fucking no. Not for the same reasons as Mace and Curtis though. Jimmy thinks you look magnificent when you do your makeup (he doesn't prefer it, mind, but he appreciates the final result) but has zero interest in knowing how the sausage is made. You go shop. You take your time in the bathroom or at the mirror. He isn't there for those stages.

Johnny Storm

Antsy. Fiddles around testing out the skin and haircare stuff for men. Bit obsessed with colognes. Needs to know you're opinion on what suits him. He will let you swatch on his hand and arm but will not necessary stay put while you make your decisions. Possibly spends more money than you sometimes. Definitely tries new products more than you do, not really searching for his favorite or the best, just like new and is a product whore.

Jake Jensen

Jake, my beloved, is fascinated by the various textures and tries to spot the super subtle color differences. He's always genuine about which things he prefers--hates sticky textures--and wants you to feel as lovely as he finds you all the time. Jake will even clean up his arm then start over to swatch your top choices beside each other, remembering which brand and colors they were. He is wildly amused by the names of lipsticks and nail polishes specifically. He kinda wants that job.

Lloyd Hansen

Loudly announces what will make you look whorish, the asshole. Everything is described as looking nice while you cry from how good he's fucking you or looking hot smeared on your face and his dick. Doesn't give a shit about price or whatever; he's not paying for it.

Ari Levinson

He's distracted but around. Follows you casually. Will answer questions and give his opinion when prompted. Has too much hair to swatch on him though. Will randomly put his arm around your shoulders, kiss your temple, and say "whatever you want." Insists on paying, even if his eyes bug-out momentarily.

Ransom Drysdale

You are correct: he will not allow sparkly shit on his person. In fact, he's too bored to stick around when it's not him shopping. Ran is extremely vocal and particular about what looks great on you and what's meh. Refuses to let you buy the meh things. I will say, he is deeply appreciative of the final result. Loves when you are all dolled up and beaming happy. Doesn't show it really, but he's smug as hell with you on his arm looking so fine...

Andy Barber

He has opinions, but he is not a palette. Andy throws a wary glance your way when he notices the prices or that there are several of the same type of product in your basket. There are very rare instances where he's goofy and in the mood to be playful with you, so Andy has been known to put a vivid or dark shade of lipstick on himself when you're turned away and then play it off until you notice. He thinks it's utterly hilarious to smear it on you with kisses in those moment. Adorable jerk...

Steve Rogers

Everything is a palette, and all the colors remind him of some sort of art. I mean, this guy thinks you are art. Steve can't help but imagine what you're thinking of wearing with the makeup, he knows complimentary colors and shading, and he's the best of most worlds in this scenario.

Bucky Barnes

Buck gets an enormous kick out of this, really leans into his preening, theatrical side. Swatch all over him, he doesn't care. Bucky also will gently help you apply makeup, cupping your chin in his hand while gliding that lip gloss you're interested over your bottom lip. He mimics pressing and pouting so you spread it around. I mean...I don't know how this guy makes everything both loving and sensual but goddamn do I believe he does.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[winchesterwild78]

Twinkle Lights

Master List

Characters: Reader x Male companion

Warnings: Cheating, (I don’t condone it, but let’s be honest it does happen), forbidden love, angst, language, masturbation, light smut.

A/N: Just a quick story that came to me. Honestly the male companion could be anyone. When I wrote it I thought about Jensen, and some of his characters he plays. I didn’t want to name the male, I wanted you, the reader, to decide who he was. Happy reading. 

*This one got a little long…sorry not sorry.*

Word Count: 5890

All work is my own, don’t take it or copy it. Reblogs, likes, and feedback are always welcomed.

Minors DNI 18+

Reader’s POV: 

It was a chilly December morning, so the warm liquid of the latte I drank warmed me up. I sat at the small table in the back of the coffee shop waiting for the man who answered my ad. I had recently gotten engaged and I wanted to reach out to my father to let him know. The only problem was, I didn’t know who he was, well not really. 

My mother and him weren’t married when she got pregnant with me. I had pictures and some things to go on, but not much. My sister encouraged me to put out an ad to see if anyone could help me locate him. My fiance, Aaron, was less than thrilled.

“I don’t understand why this is so important to you that you have to put the wedding on hold to find a man who abandoned you before you were born.”  I sighed, “He didn’t abandon me, mom and him broke up before she knew she was pregnant. He was gone by the time she found out and she couldn’t find him. I need him to know I exist. I have to know if he wants to be in my life. Before we move on to our next chapter I have to complete that one.” Aaron sighed, “Well you know how I feel about this.” I sat in stunned silence, “I know, but this is something I have to do.”

I received an email reply to my ad a few days ago. The man said he had information that might help locate my father. So we agreed to meet at this coffee shop. 

I sat drinking my latte as my mind raced with thoughts and nerves. The sound of the bell above the door pulled me from my thoughts. In walked a tall, incredibly handsome man. His hair slightly longer, but perfectly styled, his beard trimmed and outlined his strong jawline. His eyes a beautiful shade of green and his eyelashes long and brushed against his cheeks when he blinked. His shoulders were broad which made his shirt stretch slightly across his chest, revealing a perfectly toned body. I bit my lip and my breath caught in my throat. This man was sex on two bowed legs.

I made eye contact with him and held my breath. Oh god, please don’t let this be who I’m meeting today. 

He continued to walk over to me. “Y/N?” “Yes, hi. Thank you for meeting me today. Please have a seat.”

He sat across from me and we talked about what I knew about my dad. I showed him the pictures and he shared what he knew about him. 

“So this is Michael Baker. He worked with my father for about 15 years. He was like an uncle to me. We’ve kept in touch over the years. His wife just recently passed away, he has two children, a boy, Jacob and a girl, Savannah. Well I guess three.” He nodded at me. 

“Wow, so I have more siblings. Do you happen to know where he is now, or a phone number? I would love to reach out to him.” 

“Yeah, I have his address and number.” He wrote the address down and his number. 

I took the paper, shaking. How was I going to start this conversation? Would he want me, would he even talk to me?

That’s when I felt a hand on mine. I looked up into his green eyes, so full of compassion, “Want me to stay while you call him?” I bit my lip and nodded. 

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. My breath caught in my throat. The ringing of the phone echoed in my ear. “Hello?” I heard a deep, male voice say. 

I let out the breath I was holding, “Um, hi. My name is Y/N, you don’t know me, but I believe you knew my mother, Y/M/N.""Wow, yeah I knew her years ago. How is she?” “Oh um, she passed away. I’m sorry.” I felt a hand holding mine, a light squeeze encouraging me to continue. 

“Oh darlin’ I’m sorry to hear that. Your mama was a very special woman.” “Thank you.” My heart was beating so loudly in my ears everything around me was muffled. I took a deep breath and said everything I needed to in one breath, before I lost my nerve. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I wanted to find you. You see, I’m your daughter. Mom was pregnant with me when the two of you split. She didn’t know she was pregnant until after, and she tried to find you, but couldn’t. I’m not expecting anything from you, but I just had to make sure you knew I existed before I got married and started that part of my life.” I finally took a breath. 

The line was silent. I was terrified. “Mr. Baker? Are you still there?” “Yeah, I’m still here. Wow, so Y/M/N was pregnant. What’s your name again?” 

My voice soft, “Y/N.” “That was her mother’s name. Very beautiful name.” 

We continued talking and made a plan for me to drive to meet him. He couldn’t drive due to a leg injury, so I offered to drive to him. 

When I hung up I looked at the man sitting across from me, “Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.” We stood and he pulled me into a hug. His arms were strong, and held me tight. “Good luck, Y/N, and congratulations on your engagement. Please tell your father hello for me.” I nodded and he left. 

I called Aaron and told him I found my father and was planning a trip out to meet him. “This is foolish. You’re wasting time and money on this. You talked to him, why can’t you get the closure you need over the phone?” My heart sank. Walking out of the coffee shop on the phone, the tears started to fall. 

“Aaron, this is something I need to do. Please support me in this. I’ve always supported you.” “Do what you need to do, but remember our engagement party is next week. You need to be home for that.” I wiped the tears away, “I will.” 

I climbed in my car and cried. I was torn between meeting my father and being here with my fiancé. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing the right thing. 

Green Eyes POV:

I may have held onto her a little longer than I should. Seeing her so vulnerable but so brave did something to me. She was beautiful, and kind. Her eyes are the perfect shade of y/e/c. She’s engaged and I’m with someone, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how she bit her lip when she was nervous or how she fidgeted the whole time she was on the phone. 

When we said our goodbyes I saw her exit the coffee shop on the phone. No doubt planning the trip with her fiancé. Then I noticed her in her car, crying. 

Oh it broke my heart. I couldn’t help myself, but I walked to her car and lightly tapped on the window. 

Turning around in surprise, she wiped her tears away. “Hey, are you okay?” I asked as she rolled down her window. “I will be. Thank you. Aaron isn’t happy with me going on the trip, so I have to decide to stay or go alone. I don’t know what to do. I want to meet my father, but Aaron thinks it’s a waste.” 

I touched her arm, “Darlin’ if it’s something that will help bring you peace, then it’s not a waste of time. Why don’t I go with you? I know the area well, and I’d love to see Mike again.” 

She looked stunned, “I can’t ask you to do that. Besides, your girlfriend wouldn’t like you traveling across the country with some random woman.” “She’ll be fine, besides she’s on a girls trip. So, what do you say? We can split everything, gas, food, hotel.” 

“Okay, let’s do it. Here’s my address. Be there in about an hour and I’ll be ready.” 

I nodded and took her address. My fingers lightly brushed her hand and I shivered. 

Reader’s POV: 

An hour later I was sitting with my bags packed and reeling from the last argument I had with Aaron. He was pissed that I agreed to travel with a stranger. I told him it was safer to travel with him than alone. Before Aaron left he said he hoped my father was worth the arguing he and I were doing, and the strain it was causing in our relationship. I scoffed, “it’s only causing strain because you’re letting it. He’s my father for fucks sake. You have no idea what it feels like to not know where you came from. Now that I have an opportunity to find out, I’m going to take it. You, as my fiancé, should be supportive.” He turned on his heels and stormed out. 

I sat waiting and then I heard the rumble of the car. I looked up and saw the most gorgeous car I’d ever seen. She was sleek, black and from the looks of her, well taken care of. 

I walked to the driveway as he exited the car. “She’s beautiful.” I said as I stepped closer with my bags. “Thank you, she’s my pride and joy, my Baby.” He said as he took my bags. 

I smiled and nodded. Climbing in the front seat I ran my fingers over the beautiful black leather seats. She was breathtaking. When he climbed in the driver’s seat he saw me and smiled. “Are you ready?” I nodded and he backed out of the driveway. 

The total drive was going to take a little over ten hours. Since it was December, we had to be careful of the cold temperatures, and potential ice and snow on the roads. 

We passed the time talking, listening to music, and taking in the sights. He was so easy to talk to, and his laugh was amazing, especially when he’d tilt his head back and it came from his belly. 

I wouldn’t admit it, but being with him was easy, and in another life I could see myself with him. 

Green Eyes POV: 

I could tell when I picked her up she had a lot on her mind. She looked like she had been crying again. No doubt another argument with her fiance. Then she saw my Baby. The way her eyes lit up, the way her fingers danced over the leather, had my mind racing. Once we were on the road we talked, she loves the same music I do, and her smile could light up the darkest night. She was stunning. 

I wouldn’t admit it, but being with her was easy, and in another life I could see myself with her.

As the hours ticked by I was getting tired, and I could tell he was too. I lightly touched his arm, “You know we should probably stop for the night, grab a bite to eat and sleep.” He nodded and found a nice hotel to stop at for the night. 

He came back to the car with a key, “They had one room available, but it has two beds. I hope this is okay. If not, I can sleep out here. It’s no problem.” 

I touched his arm, “No, it’s perfect. I’m not going to let you sleep out here. Let’s get settled and grab something to eat.” 

I took the room key and he grabbed the bags. Walking into the room, it was nice and clean. There were two queen beds, a small television and a small table to the side. He placed my bag on the bed furthest from the door. I smiled slightly when I saw it. 

I sent Aaron a text to let him know we stopped for the night.

Me: Hey, just wanted to let you know we are halfway through the trip. We stopped for the night to eat and sleep. Back on the road tomorrow. I love you.

Aaron: Are you sharing a room?

I scoffed, really. This was the only thing he said?

Me: Yes, it was the only room available, but there are two beds and I’m sleeping alone. For your information he offered to sleep in his car so I/you weren’t uncomfortable. 

Aaron: So why isn’t he?

Me: Because I was not going to let him sleep in a fucking car, Aaron! Jesus, we are sleeping in separate beds. Don’t you trust me?

Aaron: I don’t know what to think anymore. 

Me: Wow, okay. We’ve been together for 4 years and I’ve never given you a reason to doubt my commitment. This is crazy. I’m going to eat, take a shower and go to bed. Good night, Aaron. I love you.

Aaron: Good night. 

My heart sunk, I can’t believe he’d think I’d throw away what we have. 

We went to a diner in town and ate dinner. I chuckled when he ordered two kinds of pie. “You gonna eat both of those?” I asked with a grin. He smirked, “Nope, we are”, and handed me a fork. After dinner and the pies we went back to the room. 

“Hey, I’m gonna jump in the shower if you don’t mind.” I looked at him as I got my pajamas and clean panties out of my bag. “No, darlin’, it’s all yours.” 

I nodded and walked in the bathroom, closing the door behind me. 

The hot water cascading around me was a welcomed feeling. It was chilly outside and I needed to just release the stress of the day. I washed my hair and body. Stepping out of the shower I wrapped my hair in a towel, dried off my body and pulled on my clothes. Looking in the mirror I realized the pajamas I brought weren’t ones I typically wear around mixed company. The shorts were short, and the top was thin, leaving not much to the imagination. I took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. I hope I didn’t make him uncomfortable. 

Walking into the room, the steam from the bathroom followed me out. His eyes flicked up and I saw him look over my body then quickly looked away. 

“Shower’s all yours if you want. The water pressure was amazing.” I said as I took my hair out of the towel. I stood with my back to him, brushing my hair. 

As he walked past me to go into the bathroom I noticed his tense jaw. I was worried I made him uncomfortable, so I crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up and under my chin. 

I heard the shower turn on, then the bathroom door opened. He walked out without a shirt on. “Forgot my clothes.” He turned and looked at me in the bed. He chuckled, “Cold?” I just nodded. My breath quickened as I took in his body. 

My thighs clenched together. Ugh! I’m not going to survive this. I heard his belt hit the floor and I could only assume his pants too. I started to fantasize about the rest of his body. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s with someone and I’m engaged. Stop fantasizing about him. Then I heard a sound from the bathroom that confused and excited me.

Green Eyes POV:

God she’s beautiful, and those pajamas, fuck! Her perfect ass and perky nipples, just teasing me. The way she looked at me when I went back in the room. God I could take her right there. I felt myself getting aroused. My cock, straining against my pants. I needed a release. After removing my clothes, my hard cock sprang free and the pink head was covered in precum. 

I climbed in the shower, flashes of her body, her lips, her perfect body in my head. I fantasized about being with her. I took my cock in my hand and the feeling pulled a moan from my lips. This was wrong, I shouldn’t be fantasizing about her, but fuck I couldn’t help it. I pumped my cock, slow at first, but as the images of her played in my head like a record my movements became faster, more urgent. I was panting and moaning her name. Biting my lip to try to contain the noise. I was chasing my release with images of her under me, on her knees and her lips kissing mine. When my release hit, it hit hard. I grunted and spilled my seed all over the tile wall. 

I should feel ashamed, but something in me stirred. I didn’t feel ashamed, I felt unrepentant. 

Reader’s POV:

As I laid in the bed, thighs still clenched together I heard noises from the bathroom. At first I wasn’t sure what it was. Then I realized he was masturbating. A blush formed over my cheeks. I tried not to listen to such an intimate moment, but I couldn’t stop myself. I felt the arousal start to pool in between my thighs. My panties soaked. My hand found its way to the hem of my shorts and panties. I slipped my hand in and gently started to touch myself. I was soaked, and my clit was throbbing with need. Every grunt and moan from him, pulled a moan from me. I thought I heard him whisper my name, but the sound of my blood pumping in my ears was starting to drown him out. I continued rubbing my clit, and sliding my fingers in and out of my wet pussy. I was close to my release. 

I started rubbing faster, moving my hips in rhythm with my fingers. My pointer and middle finger on either side of my clit, rubbing it, faster and faster. My other hand found my hardened nipples. I pinched and pulled as I got closer and closer. I heard his grunts come faster, so I knew he was close. “Oh fuck, yes!” I whispered as my release hit. My body shaking and my walls clenching around nothing as my release flowed through my body. As I slid my hand out I heard the water turn off. 

He came out of the bathroom, hair wet, no shirt and gray sweatpants on. His cheeks slightly flushed, and I know he noticed mine were too. I wasn’t sure if he heard me, but if he did he didn’t mention it. 

He climbed in his bed, leaned over to face me and to turn off his lamp, “Good night, sweetheart.” My heart fluttered, “Good night.” 

I laid back staring at the ceiling. My mind raced with thoughts of what I had just done. Guilt creeped in, but I quickly pushed it away. It’s not like I slept with him. It was just a fantasy. I had no idea he was facing the same turmoil I was. 

The next morning the sun peeked through the crack in the curtains and left a ray of light across his face. I noticed freckles peppering his face and flecks of gray in his beard. He was gorgeous, even asleep. 

I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to change. After taking off my pajamas I realized I left my shirt on the bed. I put on my pants, and bra and slipped out of the bathroom. I glanced at his bed, his eyes shut. I walked to the foot of my bed and grabbed my shirt, darting into the bathroom to finish getting dressed. I let out the breath I was holding. I don’t know what I would have done if he woke up. 

Green Eyes POV:

I woke up early, seeing her still asleep. Her blanket had slipped off, exposing her legs and curvy body. My mind flashed back to last night and a little guilt seeped in my heart. I cared about my girlfriend, but damn was she something else. I noticed she started to wake up so I pretended to be asleep. 

She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I heard the door open and saw her look out. I closed my eyes enough to make it look like I was asleep. Then she came out of the bathroom in her bra and pants. God she was sexy. Her curves and body filling out her bra and jeans. I saw her grab her shirt and hurry back in the bathroom. I bit my lip. 

I waited a few minutes to “wake up” once she got back in the room.

Coming back into the room I noticed he was still asleep. He stirred a few minutes later and stretched. I tried to look away when I noticed his morning situation, but my god was he, gifted. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” His sleepy, gruff voice broke the silence. I swallowed, “Good morning to you.” I smiled. As I turned away, he adjusted himself. “I’m gonna get dressed, we can grab breakfast and hit the road if you’d like.” 

I was putting on my sock and shoes, “Yeah, that would be great, thanks.” He grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom. When he came out he was dressed, except for his shirt. 

Fuck! This man is going to be the death of me. I felt my cheeks flush red with heat. I turned away and started to pack, hoping he didn’t see me. Once packed I grabbed my bag and was starting to carry it out of the room. He stopped me, “No, darlin’, let me carry that.” He took it in his hand and slung it over his shoulder, then he grabbed his. Walking out to the car, he dropped them in the trunk. 

We double checked we had everything and turned in the key. “Ready?” He asked. I nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.” 

Grabbing a quick breakfast we were on the road within an hour. There was about 5 hours left. I checked the weather and saw snow was coming this evening where my father lived. “Hey, it looks like around my dad’s there is snow coming in tonight. I hope it’s not too much. I don’t want you to get stuck up there with me.”

He turned his head quickly. Almost like he was offended. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, and if we get snowed in then so be it.” 

My heart raced, my eyes met his, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t want to cause you issues with your girl.” He just nodded and kept his eyes on the road.

A silence filled the car. I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled out my book and started to read. He turned on the radio, softly, and I read. About 3 hours later he pulled into a gas station. “I need to stretch and fill her up. Need anything?” I closed my book, “I’ll get out and stretch too, I’ll grab drinks and snacks.” He nodded and I grabbed my purse, walking into the gas station. 

I went to the restroom and grabbed some snacks and a few things to drink. As I approached the cash register I looked to the right and saw some mini pies. I smiled and grabbed a few. I paid for my purchases and went to the car. 

He came back a few minutes later and slid in the driver’s seat. “I got drinks and snacks. I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I took a chance and got some things I like. Oh and I got you some mini pies.” 

His head turned and he looked at me with a smirk, “You got me pie?” I nodded and smiled. He grabbed the bag and started digging through it. I giggled as he pulled out the pies. “Wow, sweetheart, thank you.” 

The next thing I knew he pulled me to him and kissed me. He pulled back quickly, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Shit! I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on his chest, “Hey, it’s okay. I promise.” 

He nodded, turned his body and started the car. I noticed his jaw was tight and his frame rigid. My heart ached. 

His lips were so soft against mine and that kiss sent electricity straight through me. Aaron had never kissed me like that, and I’d never felt that when he kissed me.

The rest of the drive to my father’s house was pretty quiet. I was thankful it was only a few hours. The tension in the car was building. 

Pulling into my father’s driveway I anxiety started to build. My hands trembled, and I fidgeted. I felt his hand on mine. I looked over at him and he smiled softly, “He’s going to love you so much, sweetheart. Just be yourself.” 

I nodded and opened my door. He stayed in the car as I approached the front porch. I took a deep breath, knocked softly and the door opened. Standing before me was my father. I knew right away I had his eyes and nose. 

“Y/N?” I nodded. He threw his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. I let out the breath I was holding. When he let me go, he looked at me, “You look just like your mother. So beautiful.” “Thank you.” 

“Would you like to come in? What about your friend in the car?” I nodded, turned and motioned for him to come in. As he approached, my father instantly recognized him. He pulled him into a hug. “Man, look at you. All grown up. You look so much like your father. It’s great to see you.” 

We all walked in and I noticed the pictures around the house. I could only assume the pictures were of his children and his late wife. Then my father spoke, “Wait, Y/N, you said you were engaged. Are you two engaged?” In unison we both said no. 

My father looked bewildered. I explained everything to him. “Well, I sure am glad you reached out. If I had known about you I would have been in your life. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

“It’s okay. I know mom wanted to tell you. She said she reached out to your sister, but she told her she didn’t know where you were.” My father shook his head, “She never did like our relationship. My sister was always trying to hook me up with her best friend. When your mother and I split I went back home. She knew where I was.” He hung his head, “Damn, all this time I could have known you, maybe been married to your mom.” 

“Did you love her?” I asked him. His face tight, “More than anything. She was the love of my life.” 

The next few days I spent with my father and met my brother and sister. It was an amazing time, except for the tension between myself and my companion. 

I couldn’t figure out what I did, or what happened. The next morning, the day before we were supposed to leave, I sat on my dad’s porch sipping a coffee, thinking. I didn’t hear the door open. My dad stepped out, “Hey kiddo, everything okay?” 

I looked up, “Yeah, well I’m not sure. My fiance, Aaron and I have barely spoken since our last fight, and to be honest I’m confused.” My father gently touched my shoulder, “Confused about your fiance, or perhaps another man?” He motioned his head towards the house. 

I took a deep breath, “I just met him, he’s got a girlfriend and I’m engaged, but…” “But you can’t stop thinking about the possibilities?” I nodded. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but some fatherly advice, follow your heart. If something feels right, you’ll know, and if something feels off, you’ll know it.” 

I stood up and hugged him, “Thanks, dad.” He smiled and pulled me tight, “You’re welcome baby girl.” 

Later that night we all decided to go to the Christmas light festival in town. Walking beside him, I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and when the wind blew just right I could smell his cologne. I inhaled deeply, taking it in. My dad, sister, brother and their families walked ahead of us. 

The laughter of other people surrounding us. I finally got the courage to talk to him. “Hey, is everything okay? Things just seem off.” “Yeah, everything is okay. I just feel bad for kissing you. I know you’re engaged.” 

I gently touched his arm, “Hey, it’s okay. That kiss was..” I stopped myself and looked in his eyes. He stepped closer. Our bodies close, his fingers lightly brushing against mine. “That kiss was what?” He asked, eyes locked on mine. 

I bit my lip, “That kiss was perfect.” I whispered. He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting mine, “Tell me to stop.” I stood there, “No.” His lips landed on mine. The kiss was soft at first, then his hands went into my hair and he deepened the kiss. I moaned into his mouth.

The kiss was absolutely magical and full of so much passion and need. As we pulled back from each other, I saw his eyes full of so much love. The twinkle lights above us casting a halo of color around him. I knew I wanted him, I knew this was who I was meant to be with. 

We made it back to our room, clothes were shed and he began kissing down my body. Taking my nipples in his mouth as his fingers played my body like a grand piano. His body hovering over mine, “Tell me to stop.” He whispered. “Don’t” 

That was all the permission he needed. He pushed inside me, and the days of want and tension just melted away. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss brought us closer together. Our bodies tangled together for hours, whispers and promises made in the middle of the passion. Both of us forgetting the commitment we made to another person. At that moment it was just us. 

We both fell asleep in each other’s arms. Around 3am his phone went off, and I glanced at it, seeing his girlfriend’s name and a message that read: “Hey baby. I got home early. I hope your trip is going well. I can’t wait for you to get home. I love you.” 

My heart sank. He’s not mine and I’m not his. We can’t be together. We’ve both betrayed the other people in our lives. I looked over at him. His eyes closed, for the first time since that first night, his jaw relaxed, and he had a slight smile on his face. 

My heart sank. I knew what I had to do. I cried the whole time.

Green Eyes POV:

The light of the sun peeked through the slightly opened curtain. I stretched and reached for her. Last night was perfect, she was perfect. When I reached for her, the bed was empty, cold. On her pillow a note. My heart sank.

By the time you read this I’ll be gone. These past few days with you have been amazing. Last night felt like nothing I’d ever felt before. You and I both are committed to other people, and I can’t come into your life and ruin that. I’m supposed to be getting married, and now I’m just confused. I know if I stay the feelings I’m feeling won’t let me walk away from you. I can’t, no I won’t make you decide between me or her. You’re an incredible man and I honestly wish things were different. I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry. You deserve so much more than a letter. I just wish I could give it to you, but I can’t. Please take care of yourself, and I’ll always be grateful for you and the time we’ve spent together. 

Forever,

Y/N

I took a deep breath. She was gone. I packed my stuff up and headed back home. The drive home was quiet, but oh so loud. Thoughts of us, of last night, of the first night, the whole trip played in my head. 

Reader’s POV: 

I hated leaving him. I just knew if I stayed I’d never leave him. Stepping out of the airport back home I felt the cold air cut right through me. I walked back into my house and dropped my bags. I sat on the couch and cried. Letting all the emotions I’d been holding in, out. 

A few days later I was standing in the middle of a restaurant, surrounded by most of Aaron’s friends and some of mine for our engagement party. My sister was here and she pulled me to the side. “Sweetie, are you okay? You’re here, but you’re not.” I just looked at her and broke down.

She pulled me into the bathroom and I told her everything. She held me tight, “Oh sweetie, it sounds like you fell in love with him. Why are you going through with this engagement? I can see you’re not happy.” 

My phone kept ringing. I looked at the caller ID, it was him. I silenced it. It rang again, and again I declined the call. He kept calling. My sister looked at me, “Honey, answer it. Hear him out. If he wanted to just walk away he wouldn’t be calling you.” 

When the phone rang again I answered it. “You have to stop calling me. I’m at my engagement party.” “Sweetheart, please.” “I can’t. Aaron didn’t do anything wrong, your girlfriend didn’t do anything wrong. We did. I did.” 

“I’ll walk away from you darlin’ if you can tell me you don’t love me.” My breath hitched. The tears started to fall. My sister put her hand on my shoulder. “I uh..” 

“Sweetheart, don’t cry, please. Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away.” I looked at my sister, “I need some air.” She helped me out the backdoor of the restaurant. My hands were shaking as I held the phone.

“I want you to know I don’t regret what we did, baby. I’ve never felt what I felt with you. I broke up with my girlfriend too. Not because of us, well not completely because of us. We had been drifting apart, it was mutual. I just thought you should know that.” I sobbed harder. “Please stop. I can’t do this. I’m supposed to be getting married.” 

He sighed, “I understand, I’m sorry darlin’. I hope you have an amazing life full of the love you deserve. I’ll let you go.” My heart broke. “No, wait, please.” A silence filled the air. “By the way, you look beautiful tonight. That dress fits you perfectly.” My breath hitched. I looked up and saw him standing near the corner of the building. 

I ran to him, threw my arms around him and held him. “Tell me you don’t love me, Y/N.” “I can’t, because I do.” He lifted my chin and kissed my lips, deepening the kiss. “Good, because I love you too.” 

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[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- alwaysxlarrie -

[1]

Sparks of euphoria shot through his veins, which made it very hard for him to refrain from making loud noises, such as shouting victoriously; he didn’t want to reagitate Harry’s migraine. He resigned to just give Harry a wide smile, poked his dimple, and told him he was happy to help, instead. It was a far cry from how he actually wanted to react, but. Such was life. 

As he peeked over at the dry erase board, he made a vow to, as long as he was able to, always have a sweet message written on it for Harry.

“you’ve got a smile that shines as bright as a full moon on a dark night. i hope you never run out of reasons to smile.”

[2]

When Harry goes back to the library a few hours later to see if he’d left his headphones on the table, he doesn’t end up finding them. Instead, he finds something much, much better. He finds a note from Louis and one of Louis’ hoodies. The note says ‘don’t worry, curly, i have your headphones! they’re safe and sound with me :) i’ll bring them to the next meeting, no worries. I got you xo’

So, no, Harry won’t be able to use his headphones for the next week. And yes, it will suck major ass. 

But. 

He’ll have Louis’ hoodie that’s absolutely magnificently coated in his delicious scent, a handwritten note from Louis, and him telling Harry that he’s got him. 

Harry knows that it can’t be love; it’s too early and too fast for it to be love, but. 

It’s definitely something.

[3]

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he scratches the tip of his nose as he offers, “um, yes. That’s me. I’m sorry, have we met?”

The man bites his bottom lip as he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m Louis, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, as well.” Harry reaches a hand out, figuring that even if he doesn’t know who this beautiful man is, it would be a felony to not offer his hand. In marriage. Or a formal handshake. Either or, really.

When their hands touch, a spark shoots up Harry’s hand straight to his spine, making him shiver. Louis seems to notice the effect their handshake has on Harry when he raises his eyebrow. After he squeezes his hand one last time, Louis releases it and puts his hands in his pockets.

[4]

“Do you have any fruits you want in it specifically, or are you okay with all of them going in?” Harry asked. His eyes were on Louis, and his fingers were already moving to open the tupperware with excited impatience.

“Honestly I’m sure whatever you decide to give me will be perfect, bub.” Louis assured him before winking and darting off, yelling to Niall that he wanted to get a few more minutes of practice in before they sat down for a proper snack. 

Harry’s fingers were trembling from the rush of adrenaline, scrambling to find the perfect pieces from each baggie to add to Louis’ little fruit salad; there couldn’t be any black seeds in the watermelon pieces, no brown on the apple slices, no wrinkly grapes, and none of the honeydew melon could be too hard. To Harry, the salad would be Louis’ introduction of how good of a friend and provider Harry could be, and therefore, it had to be perfect.

Answers below...

[1] i swear i could give you everything

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.

[2] you give me feelings that i adore

Harry doesn’t mean to fall in love with Louis’ scent when they first meet after the Alpha joins Harry's study group, but after Harry leaves a sweater behind by accident and it comes back smelling like Louis, he can’t really help it. Nor can he really help continuing to leave his things behind in hopes that Louis will take them home and drench them in his wonderful, mouth-watering scent. He just has to hope Louis will play along.

Or, 5 times Louis scents Harry's things and the 1 time Harry returns the gesture.

[3] you are my destiny (you are the reason that i still believe)

Being a new employee at a company means that you have to learn to brush off the shitty bosses, shitty coworkers, and not getting the credit you actually deserve for things. At least, that's been Harry Styles' experience. Coworkers who steal his ideas in pursuit of getting praise and a raise, and a boss who's indifferent at best and condescending at worst. Harry has learned to expect this reality for the foreseeable future. He's accepted it.

What he hadn't expected was for Louis Tomlinson to waltz into their company, and his life, and change around everything he thought he knew about fate. -- A Cinderella AU.

[4] wanna wake up with you and say baby let's do it all over again

“Alright, I did some Googling and I think I’ve figured out what your thing is.” Niall announced as he walked into their kitchen.

“My thing?”

“Sorry, is that an offensive way to refer to it?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I’d probably be able to give you a better answer if I knew what you were talking about, though.”

“Harry, it’s okay. This is a safe space.”

“No, it’s not. You throw cheese puffs at me any time I walk around naked.”

“Okay.” Niall tilted his head in acknowledgement, then corrected himself. “It’s a safe space for things I deem acceptable.”

“Of course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “So, what’s the thing?”

“Your service,” Niall flailed his hands in the air for a few seconds, “thing.”

“My service,” Harry paused to mimic Niall’s hand movements, “thing?”

“Yes.”

[lilmarshie]

A Chance Encounter | B. Barnes x Reader

Entangled Fates, Chapter One

A Victorian Era AU

Y/N - your name

Bucky, a young aristocrat, attends a prestigious ball, feeling out of place among the opulence and superficiality. The lace and opulence was far too much for his liking. He wanted to spend more time outdoors in his element rather than holed up inside attending a party.

Y/N, a brilliant but underprivileged scholar, manages to secure an invitation to the ball through a benefactor, hoping to make important connections for your future. This was going to be monumental for your future career and you were very fortunate to be able to attend such a prestigious gathering.

You arrived promptly at 7pm on the dot, dressed in a beautiful maroon and navy dress, that sparkled ever so slightly in the dim light of the building. The ball was being held in a sprawling home on a few acres. It had a tall, pitched roof featuring brickwork and decorative tiled hallways throughout the home. The home also boasted massive ornate fireplaces in every room, a beautiful front porch, and gorgeous stained glass windows. A butler, was there to greet you at the door, ushering you into the grand foyer and over to two massive doors that led into a lavish but cozy ballroom. There were sprawls of people standing in what seemed to be every corner of the room. Mingling amongst each other, while servants catered to the whims of the partygoers.

Amidst the crowd, you locked eyes with a man who had dark chocolate brown hair which was neatly slicked back. He was dressed in a meticulously pressed dark gray suit that accentuated his features. You locked eyes briefly with this man before turning away embarrassment visible on your face. You knew that you didn’t fit in here but you needed to do this for the sake of your future.

You went to go and grab a place of pastries and a cup of tea to keep your mind occupied. “I don’t need to get involved in whatever this man does. He may be strikingly good looking but I can’t get involved.” You think, as you wander off to a nearby table, the plate in your hands filled to the brim with the delicious treats. You noticed that this man kept his eyes on you the entire time. He began to make his way over to you. “Ahem.” The man says, as you swallow a bite of one of the pastries. “I wanted to introduce myself. I haven’t seen you around before. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.” He says, with a huge grin. His hand was extended to shake hands with yours. You reach over the table and shake his hand with a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” You say, as you shake his hand warmly.

“How are you enjoying everything?” Bucky asks, his hands now clasped in his lap as he watches you intently. “It’s been very nice to be invited here. I never thought I would ever be able to attend an event such as this.” You say, with a wistful sigh. “This is honestly a dream come true. I am but a simple scholar and I have dreamed of a moment such as this.” You say, as you drink a sip of tea that was swiftly brought to you by one of the many attentive servants. “I’m very glad to hear that, y/n.” Bucky says, as he takes a sip of tea as well. His brown eyes twinkling in the low light. He was contemplating whether or not to tell you why he was there before clearing his throat softly.

“How about we step outside to continue our conversation? I’m quite enjoying myself here with you. And I’d love to get to know you better.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his cup of tea before standing up and extending his arm out towards yours. Nodding, you link arms with Bucky’s and make your way outside, into the cold London air. Bucky leads you out into the porch and you sit next to him on one of the benches outside. The dim oil lamps faintly lighting up the space between you.

Over the next couple of hours, Bucky shares with you his thoughts about what’s going on with society, his dreams about the future, and business opportunities that he has awaiting him. You mention that your benefactor has secured the invitation for the ball tonight as well as helped you become the scholar that you are today. Without them, you confessed, you would be in a far worse situation.

As the evening draws to a close, Bucky makes a promise to meet again, with you, at a later date. He takes down your address and with a kiss to your hand, and once more to your cheek, promises to write to you soon. Before disappearing back inside to the swarms of partygoers.

You were eager to meetup with Bucky again however that meeting would occur. James Buchanan Barnes has captivated you in ways that you never imagined. And you were awaiting that moment with anticipation.

Little did you know, that Bucky went home that night happier and hopeful, than he’s ever been.

[mr-celestial-writings]

Charity

Day 1: Party

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Male! Husband! Reader

Summary: It's time for the Wayne's yearly Christmas Charity Gala. Bruce had a feeling it would be a good one, Especially since he was surrounded by his kids and you.

DC MASTERLIST! CELESTIAL'S 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

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Laughter and idle chatter filled the ballroom. Silver and Gold Decorations were strung from the ceiling and walls.

Joy and the Christmas Spirit filled the air. It Brought a soft smile to Bruce's face.

He saw Damian with Jon, snacking at the Buffet table. Clark and Lois were catching up with Oliver and Dinah. The rest of his kids were scattered around the ballroom, thinking that Bruce didn't realize they were causing trouble.

In his opinion, the most beautiful sight was not the snow falling outside or the beautiful decorations. No, to Bruce, the most beautiful sight was right next to him.

You, [Name], His wonderful husband.

You were dressed in the most beautiful, white suit. It had light blue snowflakes embordered in it. It reminded Bruce of you're wedding day. You were just has handsome as you were then.

You were holding onto his arm, also looking out over the event. The lights shimmered in your eyes, only making Bruce swoon harder.

Bruce gently nudged you, "You look wonderful tonight, my love."

You looked at Bruce, smiling softly, "And you, my dear, are handsome as ever." You replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Bruce chuckled, "I have to go down there, socialize. Alfred's orders. If only I had a handsome man to make it bearable." He teased.

"Yes, Bruce, If only." You said, gently taking his hand and leading him downstairs.

You always made interacting with people bearable. You made everything bearable for Bruce. Maybe that's why he didn't try to sneak out of the Gala with Jason.

You smiled softly at him as you two approached a few socialites. They tended to be more generous when Bruce spoke to them.

Bruce knew you, you knew you didn't care about the chatter. You tended to only speak to the socialites when spoken to. Honestly, Bruce couldn't blame you. He low-key respected your ability to tune in and out of conversations on a whim.

He couldn't help but glance at you every now and then, taking in the sight of you in your suit. Taking in the sight of you.

You were... amazing. Bruce found that he really lucked out with you. You cared not for his money or status, you saw through his himbo act... You saw... Him.

Bruce could never be more thankful for you, especially now as you stood by his side.

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a/n: I, as a Gay Man, need to start writing more x male reader content. I apologize for my failures. Anyways, Here's my first entry for my Christmas Writing Challenge.