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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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All In 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: I'm tryna rotate as much as possible.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Margot. She’s talkative but kind. She guides you through everything with patience. Tells you when to close your eyes and look up, how to hold your head, when to pucker your lips. She even explains exactly what she’s doing and why she’s doing it. Despite her demeanour, you still feel utterly stupid. Rather, you feel inadequate.

Another woman shows up shortly after, as a brush traces the line of your cheek. She introduces herself as Darla, she has a whole rack of dresses lined up for you. Another inward cringe threatens to compress your lungs.

As Darla presents you with options, you find it hard to breathe. It’s all so overwhelming, especially as a third woman, Erica, appears to do your hair, and a fourth, Nia, to tend to your nails. You could faint as you’re pushed, pulled, and prodded from all sides.

“I like the red,” Margot suggests as you hem and haw.

The dresses are all nice but you don’t even know what you’re picking it for. Honestly, none of them suit you. Too much skin for your liking. Not that that stays much; your comfort is jeans and baggy tees.

Erika hums, “what about the teal, lovey? I do think you’d look marvelous with those cutouts.”

“Yes, it is a pretty colour. You have the complexion for it,” Darla remarks.

They’re all so nice but there’s something pitying in their voices. You feel like a child. You don’t belong here. You especially don’t belong with Bucky, apparently, he knows that too. Why else would he have these women plucking and picking at you?

Margot finishes and brings you a mirror. As you see yourself, you blanch. It’s not bad. In fact, she’s done better than you could ever manage but you don’t look like yourself. You don’t feel like yourself. If he wants you to be someone else, you don’t think you can do that.

You feel yourself shrinking. Your shoulders slump and you wilt, stuttering but unable to say a word. Margot touches your shoulder.

“What is it? Hon, have I done something wrong?”

“No, no,” you croak and bring your hands to your throat, “it’s nice. Really nice but... I need some air.”

“Of course, Darl, Nia,” she shoos away the stylist pinning your hair, “let her up.”

The women back off and the fourth watches you from the rack, still holding a sparkly black get-up. You search the room and swiftly head for the door. You let yourself into the hall, fanning yourself with your half-done acrylics. You’re happy at least they aren’t long.

You pace back and forth, watching your feet pass over the pattern of the hotel carpet. You can run. You could just leave right now. The thought only makes your stomach hurt. No, you can’t. Not after he’s gone to all this trouble. You’d hate to seem ungrateful.

You continue your incessant laps back and forth outside the door. You hear footfalls from around the corner and pause. You should go back in before someone sees you. You grab the handle. Shoot, it’s locked. You wiggle it as a shadow appears at the end of the hall. You gulp and peer down.

It’s him. You lean on the door and face Bucky. He wears a dark blue jacket over a black shirt and black pants. There’s patterning sewn into his jacket, subtle spirals all around. His dark hair his combed back to the ends flip out behind his ears and his dark beard glints with silver strands, a patch more obvious on his chin. He’s strikingly handsome. So much so, you can’t understand why you’re there.

His brows form a vee as he nears and he tilts his head, a tick in his cheek, “what’s going on, doll?”

“Um, just... locked out,” you turn the handle again to emphasize your point.

“No, what’s....” he looks at you and gestures up and down with his hand, “no, this won’t do.”

You blink and pout. After all that and you’re not good enough. He raps on the door with his knuckles and there’s some scuffing from inside before Margot opens it. She steps back to let you in and greets Bucky by name.

“This isn’t what I wanted,” he urges you ahead of him, his hand firmly around your arm, “it’s too much. She doesn’t need all this. I told you, just a little enhancement. I don’t want her looking like a Barbie.”

“Sorry, sir, it’s... standard.”

“Doll,” he stops you with him as he plants himself near the racks of dresses. The women watch him anxiously. “What do you think? The make up; you like it?”

You peer around and stare at Margot. She worked so hard and it isn’t that it’s bad work. She made you look gorgeous but you just don’t like all the layers. You slant your mouth one way then the other.

“Be honest,” he insists.

“I... It’s pretty but a bit... heavy?” You eke out.

“I agree,” he lets you go, “I appreciate the hard work, Marg, but I want to see her natural beauty shining. And these dresses...” he turns, “these aren’t right. I said light. I said... Mm, no. Doll, what’s your favourite colour?”

He faces you as you stand in shock. You feel horrible that he’s reproaching them like this. They’ve done all this for you and he’s just going down a list of everything wrong.

“Erm, purple, I guess but--”

“Darla, get her something purple. Lavender? Lilac?” He looks at you for confirmation and you just nod. You won’t correct him. “Erica, finish her hair, something a bit less... stuffy. Margot, clean her face up. Nia, the nails are looking good.” He turns to you and takes you by the shoulders, “and you, all you gotta do is be your cute little self, alright?”

You gulp and nod. You don’t know what to say. He saves you from a response as he brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and your cheeks flame at the awareness of your audience. He pulls back and caresses your cheek before parts completely.

He checks his watch, “don’t got all night.”

He marches off, leaving you dumbfounded. He’s like a hurricane, coming in and blowing everything out of sorts. You look around guiltily.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Margot assures with a smile, “come, let’s get you fixed up, dahling.”

She beckons you over and sits you back down. You give your hand back to Nia to finish the manicure as Erica once more goes to work on your hair. You stare at the wall and let out a nervous sigh.

“That’s cute,” Margot says, “the way he looks at you.”

“Hm, yeah,” Erica agrees, “he definitely has the eyes for ya.”

You close your eyes as Margot gently wipes away the make up with a cool cloth from a package. You shrug, trying not to move too much, “he’s nice. He... did all this. Just for me. I... I didn’t ask for it. I’m sorry he didn’t like it.”

“No, baby,” Nia says, “this isn’t about us. It’s about you. What do you like?”

You open your eyes again and frown. That’s a good question. You lower your gaze to your lap and exhale heavily.

“I’m figuring it out,” you murmur, “I don’t... I don’t get out much.”

“Oh, this must be so exciting for you,” Erica trills, “oh, how fun.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” Nia adds, “don’t be nervous. Just enjoy yourself.”

“Can’t be that hard,” Margot clucks, “on a handsome man’s arm, pretty as a bow,” she cleans her brushes as she talks, “it’ll be a great night. I’m thinking...” she peruses her chest of makeup, “natural tones. A dewy look. Natural, subtle.”

“Okay, uh, yeah,” you agree, “that sounds nice.”

“Hmmph,” Erica hums, “she’s a sweetie, isn’t she, ladies?”

“Nicer than the last one,” Nia cackles.

You stiffen and shift in the chair. You look at the nail tech then Margot as she compares a tube to your face and shakes her head. You push your lip against your teeth and let it flick out.

“Last one?” You whisper.

The women share a look and smile, “well, Mr. Barnes is notorious. Surely, you know.”

“Oh,” you think of the headlines you scrolled through online, “well, yes, I know. I guess... I didn’t catch what you meant.”

“Enjoy it. I’m sure you’ll get a few pretty baubles out of it,” Nia says, “and some memories to long for when you’re old like us.”

“Old,” Margot scoffs, “speak for yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I know. I’m just... another girl.”

“Oh, dahling,” Margot intones, “but he seems really fond of you, doesn’t he? Maybe he’ll keep ya around a bit longer, eh?”

You just sit there. You knew better than to believe it was anything but the obvious but it’s still a hard pill to swallow. You stare blindly ahead as Margot remoisturizes your skin.

“Didn’t mean to upset you,” Margot says.

“I’m not, I just...” you swallow, “I’m nervous.”

“Mm, nervous? Well, I think that’s what the bar is for. Erica, fetch some of that rose. She needs a glass, Stat.”

Your mouth opens to protest but you think better of it. You’ve already caused them enough trouble. You thank them instead and try not to let your shame burn through. They know why you’re there and they’ve left no doubt in you of the same.

“Make sure to pour me some too,” Margot chirps.

🃏

You stop after one glass. It makes your inside bubbly and eases the tension just enough that you’re not jittering. You feel better but still not certain.

The women confirm your fears. This isn’t going to last. It’s not like you didn’t expect as much but hearing it is all the more real. You’re going to have to come up with yet another lie to tell. This one will hurt the most because it will be at least halfway true; you’re still a loser.

You’ll try to take their advice. You’ll enjoy this night; this once in a lifetime experience. You don’t think you’ll ever be in a casino again in your life. They’re not for you. All of this is just above you. It’s better suited to someone like your sister. You can’t help but wonder why it isn’t Roxie here.

The clock ticks. Well, not truly. The digital numbers count down the minutes as you linger in the suite alone. The gaggle of women left only a few minutes ago but not without a promise that you’re happy. You are, at least with all they did for you.

You approach the mirror, almost shying away from your own reflection. You look nice. You might even call yourself pretty. Your eyes look more brilliant with the subtle lining and the precisely coated lashes; not too heavy. And your lips, shiny but natural, your cheeks dewy with a hint of colour to them.

And the dress. Lavender satin with crystals embedded in the fabric, lines of smaller ones interconnecting the larger stones. You turn and check your figure. You look grown up. It’s ridiculous to think but you do. The heels help, not too high but enough to define your legs.

You turn and tear your gaze away from the mirror. You don’t want to be vain. Besides, you probably don’t look that good. You just look better than usual. The comparison is enough to skew your perception.

As you teeter on the heels, waiting, for what, you don’t exactly know. You can surmise what it will all lead to. What he intends. You can’t deny it any longer. A man doesn’t do all this for altruistic mean and even you aren’t that pitiful. Well, you hope not.

A knock at the door trips you up. Your heart lurches. You’re not ready. But it’s getting late and you know it’s inevitable. You can’t move or speak. You just stare towards the door.

You hear it open. You blink a Bucky’s shadow appears on the carpet and he strides into your sight. Your eyes meet his and his blue irises sparkle as he sees you. He stops and put his hand to his chest. His forehead lines and he bites his lip.

“Wow, doll,” he rasps breathily and slowly steps forward, “you look...”

You press your hands to your sides and give a toothy expression, not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. Sweat speckles along your neck as his gaze bores into you. You’re even more self-conscious as he closes in.

“I don’t know,” you murmur.

“What don’t you know?” He asks as he reaches for you and takes your hand. He draws you near, “huh? Look at you, doll.” He purrs, “you look spectacular.” His other hand grazes down your side and he squeezes your hip as he holds you at arm’s length and ogles you, “mm, damn. You wanna know what I know?”

You peer up at him from beneath your lashes, “what?”

“That you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m a lucky man to have you walking the floor with me tonight,” he drops your hand and frames your other hip, drawing you to him, “I have half a mind to keep you up in this room.”

You choke. Your lower lip trembles and you shake your head, “that’s nice but...” you look away.

“But? You don’t believe me, doll? You think I’d lie?” He challenges.

“N-no, I didn’t say—but--- before---” you sputter and put your hands on his forearms, “there were others and they were prettier.”

“Doll, don’t worry about before. This is now. You aren’t them and I’m telling you, you are beautiful,” he trails his hand up and nudges your chin. You look at him again, your cheeks shaking as you try to smile. “Here.”

He takes your hand, his eyes clinging to yours as he watches you. You can’t look away. Not this time. He leads your hand up his jacket and slips it beneath. He presses it to his chest. You feel the taut muscle beneath and something else.

“You got my heart racing, doll,” he growls. “That ain’t a lie.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #all in #he's a charmer isn't he #marvel #winter soldier #avengers #mcu #captain america

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kuroosdarling · 1 year ago

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POSITIONS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. sanji vinsmoke !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : sanji always liked missionary, but he was eager to broaden his horizons with you once you give him a proper taste.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. brief mention of blood (this man & his nosebleeds) mentions of creampie, overall vanilla sex — wc : 500 words

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : starting to post my fics that are just sitting in my drafts. i asked risu which character to post first and here we are with sanji <33 enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)♡*.ﾟ

sanji always loved to take you in missionary. there was something so special to him about seeing your pretty face, slotting his body on top of yours and being as close as possible.

loved pressing his forehead against yours to gaze into your eyes. or better yet, when you carefully push back his slightly damp bangs out of his eyes so you could see his face better.

loved to wrap his arms behind your back, pulling you towards him to press your chests together — utterly driving him insane when he feels your nipples brushing against his.

above all, he loved seeing your precious face. intently watching each beautiful expression morph into bliss as he drove you closer to your pleasure, using your reactions to guide his way there for you.

but one day, you insist on changing positions.

he wasn’t so sure, in fact, he hasn’t ever done anything besides missionary so he didn’t even know how to go about it. but luckily, he had you to show him the way.

it started when you climbed into his lap, effectively kickstarting his old habits. after the initial gush of blood coming out of his nose and a few overly enthusiastic compliments — he simmered back down the moment you slid down on his cock.

it took him a second to try to not come instantly, but the way you were perched up in his lap, your chest directly in front of his face, your hands delicately resting on his shoulders — he couldn’t help it.

but he always had so much more to give you.

he soon realized that maybe new positions were a good thing. a different way for him to worship and love your body. his tongue running all over your chest, circling around your nipples as you bounced on his cock.

it was truly heaven watching you use him to get yourself off. your soft mewls fired up his core, driving his hips up further to meet yours. there was no way he’d want to stop having you like this. it might have even taken over as his new favorite position.

but something else overcomes him when he has you on all fours. the way you look so beautiful presenting yourself for him has his mind going drunk with satisfaction.

knowing that only he could ever have you like this, driving himself further into your warm cunt, deeper than he has ever gone — has him losing his control.

he’s still sweet, but there’s an edge to it now. his hips erratically snapping against you. he feels so high, so overwhelmed with the control you graciously gave him.

it’ll even have him reaching over to take one of his cigarettes, smoking it while his thrusts never falter. the view he has is one of the best ones he’s ever seen. screw the all blue, this right here was his life’s dream.

being able to admire your body from any angle is a new game he adamantly wants to play. so expect him to try and throw you in any position at any time. he has a lot of new things he wants to explore now that he knows how willing you are to help him.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#sanji vinsmoke #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut

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tinytinyblogs · 4 months ago

Note

Can you please do Stray kids members how they would act around the female 9th member

Welcome To The Team!

Skz has a new member and they trying to get close to you, too.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬I apologize for the delay in fulfilling this request—I’ve been quite overwhelmed with a lot on my plate and feeling exhausted. However, I’m here now and ready to assist. I genuinely appreciate receiving feedback and requests from all of you, and it always makes me happy to help. Wishing you all a wonderful day!

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Chan

Meeting Chan for the first time feels effortless and comfortable. As the leader of the group, it’s only natural for Chan to take on the role of being the bridge between you and the rest of the members. True to his gentle nature, he has an uncanny ability to dissolve any awkwardness right from the start. There's something about the way he carries himself—calm and approachable—that instantly puts you at ease. Even if you tend to feel nervous around new people, his presence reassures you. It's as if he knows exactly how you're feeling, intuitively recognizing any discomfort you might have. What stands out most is how he helps you connect with others, easing you into the group dynamic without making it feel forced. He doesn't just leave you to fend for yourself but subtly helps guide the conversation, making sure you don't feel left out. It's his attentiveness that truly makes a difference. He’s always checking in with you, making sure you're comfortable, and adjusting the interaction to suit your pace. Chan’s genuine care and effortless charm create a space where meeting new people no longer feels daunting but enjoyable and even fun.

As you grow closer to Chan, his care and affection become more evident with each passing day. What started as a gentle and considerate friendship blossoms into something even more meaningful as he lets his affectionate side shine through. He enjoys being at the heart of the group, craving connection not just with the other members but with you in particular. It’s subtle at first—small gestures like sitting closer to you or casually brushing against your arm—but soon, he becomes more open with his warmth. Out of nowhere, he’ll wrap you in a hug, a gesture that feels both comforting and familiar. His eyes often linger on you, not in an intrusive way, but in a way that makes you feel truly seen. There’s an unspoken admiration in the way he watches you, as if he’s quietly appreciating every little habit and detail about you that makes you unique. Whether you’re laughing at a joke or lost in thought, Chan’s attention is always there, taking it all in. Sometimes, he would gently caress your hair, a soft, caring gesture that immediately made you feel more at home. His tone was always soft and considerate, and he'd ask questions to make sure you were okay: “Are you feeling alright? Are you comfortable? Is there anything bothering you?”

And while he’s affectionate, his care goes deeper than just hugs and soft looks. Chan isn't afraid to speak up when something’s wrong, giving you a playful scolding or a serious talk when he feels it’s necessary. His gentle reprimands come from a place of genuine concern, always with the intention of helping you grow or stay on the right path. But no matter the situation, he’s never far when you’re in need. If you're feeling down or overwhelmed, Chan is there in an instant, offering support and encouragement, making sure you know that you don’t have to face anything alone. Through it all, his affection and care create a sense of security, making you feel valued, protected, and understood. His gentle encouragement helped you find your place within the team, and he made it clear that you belonged. With Chan by your side, you never felt out of place or like an outsider; instead, he created an environment where you could flourish and grow, surrounded by the unwavering support of someone who genuinely cared. His thoughtful presence helped smooth out any initial awkwardness, allowing you to build a strong connection with the group and become part of the family.

Minho

Minho, being naturally the most reserved person in the group, approaches new situations and people with quiet caution. During your first meeting, he doesn’t say much beyond a polite, brief self-introduction. He tends to stay on the outskirts of conversations, observing everything around him with his sharp, thoughtful eyes. It's clear that he prefers to take his time, watching and absorbing the energy of new people before diving in. With you, it's no different—he doesn’t rush to interact, opting instead to silently evaluate and adjust to your presence. In those early moments, you may notice him sitting quietly or exchanging a few words when necessary, but his true nature lies in how carefully he observes everything. He’s taking note of the dynamics and your habits, making sense of the situation before he fully steps in. Minho’s approach to connecting is slow and deliberate. It’s his way of giving himself time to feel comfortable.

After some time, you’ll start to notice subtle changes. Slowly but surely, he begins to make his way into your world. At first, it’s small—he’ll join in on a group conversation where you’re involved, adding a comment or two, enough to make his presence felt but without drawing too much attention. Little by little, these moments grow more frequent. You start seeing him join in on light small talk, his words carefully chosen but meaningful. Over time, the walls he had built around himself start to lower. What began as casual contributions to group discussions evolves into more personal interactions. One day, you realize he’s seeking you out on his own, initiating conversations that aren’t just polite but thoughtful and genuine. As you grow closer to Minho, his reserved nature starts to melt away, revealing a more playful, talkative side. He begins to open up, often filling the space with his teasing and lighthearted jokes. He loves to mess with you, whether it's by cracking jokes or poking fun at you just to get a reaction.

He has a way of spotting you from across the room and coming over to talk, even if it's about something completely random—he doesn't mind, as long as he has your attention. When it comes to helping you with dance practice, Minho’s patience and focus shine through. He’s always ready to offer guidance, paying extra attention to your steps and making sure you’re on the right track. He’s supportive but never misses an opportunity to play around, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he’ll warn you, “One more wrong step, and I’ll tickle you,” his playful glare letting you know he’s only half-serious. His combination of care and teasing makes the time spent with him both productive and fun, and it’s clear that he enjoys every moment of being around you. Even though he claims not to be a fan of physical touch, it's obvious that when it comes to you, that's far from the truth. His hands always seem to find their way around you—whether it’s a casual arm over your shoulder or a playful nudge. His actions speak louder than his words, and it’s clear that he enjoys being close to you, even if he won’t admit it.

Changbin

When you first meet Changbin, he greets you with a wide, infectious grin that instantly sets the tone for your interaction. It's clear from the start that he’s the most enthusiastic about meeting you, his excitement practically buzzing through the air. With his high-energy personality, he makes you feel immediately welcome, creating a warm atmosphere where it’s impossible to feel out of place. His positivity is contagious, and you quickly realize that with Changbin, there’s no room for awkwardness or hesitation. From that very first moment, you feel like you can lean on him. He has an effortless way of breaking the ice, making you feel comfortable despite the newness of it all. His easygoing nature shines through as he pulls you into conversations, introduces you to others, and helps you find your footing in the group. It's like he’s taking you under his wing, ensuring that you don’t feel like a stranger for long. His knack for building connections isn’t just limited to himself—he goes out of his way to help you become friends with the others, acting as the bridge that brings everyone together.

Changbin’s energy and enthusiasm create a space where you feel seen, appreciated, and instantly part of the group dynamic. Even during your first meeting, he makes you feel like you belong, as if being around him is the most natural thing in the world. Changbin had a genuine warmth about him, and though he was incredibly talkative, he was also incredibly thoughtful. He knew exactly where to draw the line, never pushing you too far outside your comfort zone. While he loved engaging with you and pulling you into conversations, he also had a strong sense of awareness about when to step back. If he noticed you growing tired or if the conversation began to lose its flow, he’d gracefully shift gears or allow you the space to take a break. As your bond with Changbin deepens, your interactions become a blend of playful mischief and genuine affection. You both find yourselves constantly teasing each other, exchanging nicknames, and engaging in spirited play fights.

Changbin often jokes about your height, laughingly declaring, “We’re definitely the shorty duo—don’t even try to deny it!” His light-hearted teasing and the friendly banter become a hallmark of your relationship, creating a dynamic where fun and laughter are always just around the corner. But beneath all the playful antics, Changbin's true nature shines through. When you’re feeling down or going through a tough time, he’s quick to shift his focus from fun to support. His primary goal becomes making you smile and bringing joy back into your day, no matter what it takes. Whether it’s through a silly joke, a heartfelt gesture, or just being there to listen, Changbin demonstrates that his care goes beyond just playful interactions. It’s this balance—between the fun, carefree side and the thoughtful, caring side—that makes your friendship with Changbin so special. No matter how much teasing or play-fighting there is, you know that when it really matters, he’s someone you can count on to brighten your day and be there for you, offering both laughter and support.

Hyunjin

When you first meet Hyunjin, he may come across as somewhat shy and reserved. He tends to keep his conversations brief and polite, not wanting to intrude or make a fuss. This initial reticence is part of his nature, and while he may not be very talkative at the beginning, he remains courteous and respectful. Hyunjin’s sensitivity can sometimes lead to misunderstandings, especially when you're still getting to know each other. This might result in a few minor disagreements or awkward moments as you both navigate the nuances of your interactions. These initial conflicts are often a result of miscommunications rather than any real friction. However, as you both spend more time together and become more familiar with each other, these early misunderstandings will gradually dissipate. Hyunjin’s true, warmer side will begin to emerge, revealing his more open and engaging personality. As you both get to know each other better, the initial shyness gives way to a deeper connection, allowing for a more comfortable and genuine friendship to develop.

Once you've had the chance to warm up and move past the initial awkwardness or silly disagreements with Hyunjin, he’s quick to make amends by engaging with you on a more personal level. He’ll start asking about your hobbies, interests, and what you enjoy doing in your free time. This genuine curiosity helps bridge the gap between you, and as you discover common interests and shared passions, you’ll find that your connection deepens. As you both open up to each other, Hyunjin becomes more expressive and involved. He’s eager to share his creative thoughts and ideas with you, enjoying the process of exploring and learning together. Whether it’s working on a project, diving into a new hobby, or just discussing your favorite topics, he takes pleasure in collaborating and spending time with you. His enthusiasm for sharing his new discoveries means that you become his go-to person for exciting news or fresh ideas.

Hyunjin’s approach to friendship is rooted in a desire to connect and grow together. He loves finding new ways to explore and learn, and he values having someone to share these experiences with. When he comes across something new or inspiring, you’re always the first person he wants to tell. This constant sharing and collaborative spirit make your relationship with him not only more meaningful but also filled with creativity and mutual support. "Don’t be silly—I told you to wear mine,” he says with a playful smile, tossing his hat in your direction. Sharing is something he truly enjoys, and he’s always happy to offer advice or lend a helping hand whenever you need it. His willingness to share extends beyond just material things; he also values open communication and turns to you whenever he needs someone to talk to. Whether he's seeking guidance, sharing a personal thought, or just needing a listening ear, he feels comfortable confiding in you, appreciating the support and understanding you provide.

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tarotwithavi · 2 years ago

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You from the eyes of your future lover/future spouse

Read part 1 here

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

For my female audience , I'll be using she/her pronouns in this post.

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Pile 1

When I'm with her, I feel an overwhelming sense of strength and confidence, as if I could conquer any challenge that comes my way. She embodies everything that brings me joy and fulfillment. Being in her presence makes me feel like the luckiest person in the world because I have her by my side. Her mere existence has the power to make my wildest dreams a reality. Not only does she inspire me to reach for the stars, but she also motivates me to become a better version of myself. Her influence pushes me to strive for greatness in all aspects of life. Just knowing that she is there for me, supporting me, and believing in me, helps me heal wounds that were never caused by her. Her presence alone has a transformative effect on my well-being, bringing me solace and restoration. If her love were poison, I would willingly drink it without hesitation or remorse. Such is the depth of my devotion and the extent to which I value her affection. I yearn to be of assistance to her, to be a reliable pillar she can lean on. I aspire to be her rock, her unwavering support, providing comfort and strength whenever she needs it. Being with her fills me with an indescribable sense of empowerment and joy. She is my beacon of happiness, encouraging me to strive for greatness and inspiring me to become the best version of myself. Her love and presence heal me in ways I never thought possible, and I am eager to reciprocate by being her steadfast support and ally.

Pile 2

Describing her is a challenging task, for she possesses a depth that transcends the confines of ordinary words. She carries an aura that attracts wealth and prosperity wherever she ventures, as if they were faithful companions by her side. From a distance, she appears strong and bold, yet I sense a vulnerable little girl hiding within her, fearful of the harshness this world can wield. She has distanced herself from those around her, for nobody has truly comprehended her essence. No one has made an earnest effort to unravel the intricate puzzle of her being. My deepest desire is to be the one who unravels that enigma, the person who embraces the challenge of understanding her complexities. I yearn to discover every missing piece and gently place it in its rightful position, completing the beautiful picture that is her. I want to penetrate the walls she has built, to listen to her unspoken fears and insecurities, and to offer solace and understanding. By becoming the person who comprehends her deepest self, I hope to bridge the gap between her and the world that often fails to perceive her true nature. I want to be the companion who supports her unconditionally, providing comfort and encouragement as she navigates through life's labyrinth. It is my aspiration to create an environment where she can fully express herself, knowing that she is truly seen, heard, and appreciated.

Pile 3

The moment our eyes met, I was immediately captivated by her essence, as if an invisible force had bound my heart to hers. Prior to meeting her, I had been skeptical of love at first sight, dismissing it as a mere romantic notion. However, in her presence, all doubts were washed away by the sheer brilliance of her beauty. She has bewitched me completely, leaving no room for retreat. Even if her allure leads to my demise, I would embrace it willingly, for the privilege of experiencing her presence outweighs any consequences. Her presence has an intoxicating effect on me, causing me to lose my composure in the most enchanting way. It is as if she holds the power to unravel the layers of my soul, igniting a fire within me that I cannot control. My hands yearn to touch her, to explore every corner of her body, as if searching for an uncharted territory that only she possesses. Every flaw she may perceive within herself, I view as perfect imperfections, enhancing her unique beauty and making her all the more irresistible. Words fail to fully express the depth of my admiration for her. She is a work of art, a masterpiece without blemish in my eyes. I am eager to shower her with praise, to extol every facet of her being, and to make her feel cherished beyond measure. In her presence, I find myself stripped of pretenses and laid bare, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. It is an indescribable sensation, this all-consuming affection, where reason and logic are overshadowed by an overwhelming desire to be closer to her. She has become the center of my universe, a gravitational force pulling me toward her. To love her is to lose myself willingly, surrendering to the magnetic power she holds over me.

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cloudzoro · 6 months ago

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I saw your post about jinbe being top 3 strawhats in bed and I was wondering what the full ranking is??? love the jinbe appreciation by the way 🤭🤤

Personally, my top 3 would be Zoro, Robin and Jinbe! 🥰

JINBE FUCKERS UNITE!!!

personally, I don't think people are gonna agree with my ranking, but my full ranking from best to worst in bed is:

1. Jinbe

He is so big and loving. You know he just won't stop until you're satisfied. He'd stretch you out so well and fill you up nicely while cooing sweet words at you until you practically melt in his arms. He'd take such good care of you. He's the oldest strawhat (other than Brook ofc.) so he's experienced in life and in love. He's so mature and knows what he's doing.

2. Robin

Similar to Jinbe, Robin would take care of you so well. Her power also has endless sexual possibilities. She would just give you orgasm after orgasm with her hands, tongue and strap. She just gives off an air of trust and acceptance. She can let her guard down with you and vice versa. Her stamina is crazy too. SHES SO FINE, NICO ROBIN I WANT YOU SO BAD.

3. Franky

You're telling me he hasn't upgraded that dick? I bet he's got attachments in shapes and sizes for you. He could make you crazy sex toys explicitly suited for your pussy. He'd have you in tears from overstimulation. He's also, imo the least insecure strawhat. He's confident in himself and his abilities.

4. Zoro

My man my man my man. He's prefers to show you how he feels as oppose to telling you. He also likes to flex his physical strength in bed by twisting you into all sorts of positions. He does take care of you well but sometimes he's a bit clueless as to what to do so you have to guide him. He's a himbo stereotype. hes pretty inexperienced before you so you gotta teach him what you like but once he picks it up it's all good. I know his stamina goes CRAZY. Whatever you want, whenever you want.

5. Nami

What she lack in experience she makes up for with enthusiasm. She does have a tendency to get overwhelmed and rush things. She needs help learning how to take her time. She loves helping you get off though. She'd never leave you unsatisfied. She's likes to receive as much as she gives.

6. Sanji

Similar to Nami. He has his specialties (eating pussy) and what he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm (sometimes a little too much enthusiasm). He's devoted, thinks it's criminal if he cums more times than you. I feel like he also tends to rush into things, he gets too ahead of himself. His recovery time is crazy though, he can cum like 3/4 times before he needs a real breather to get hard again. He gets minus points for not knowing where the clit is unless you guide him to it.

7. Brook

I'm sure if you gave him a strap he'd be a good time but like...he doesn't have genitals, or a tongue, or flesh so his fingers would hurt. Given the correct tools he could be fun though.

8. Usopp

No confidence, below average dick, virgin. He could probably make you some cool toys though

9. Luffy

it's not I think he's worse in bed that Usopp, I just can't see him in a sexual situation at all. I just can't lewd the captain sorry 😭

#jinbe 🤤🤤🤤#i need to write for him #and i KNOW franky is freaky #one piece smut #one piece x reader #strawhats x reader #fem!reader

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raainberry · 10 months ago

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I’m so glad you got lost

Jihyo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - helping a damsel in distress like in the old times still works like a charm (you’re a security guard at a music festival and Jihyo appreciates both your help and looks)

worcount - 2.9K

T/W - none i think, but like cute summer vibes, first meeting, sweet moments, you’re whipped for her, the usual stuff

A/N - lowkey struggled, tried to get a bit out of my comfort zone by adding a little more desc but not mad at how it turned out

The outdoor festival Jihyo and her friends chose to spend their weekend at was a success. The atmosphere was vibrant, fun and exciting, the music was good, the food was even better, but perfection is just never possible.

Something had to go wrong or else it wouldn’t fun.

Losing a few people in a friend group as large as hers is understandable and not uncommon. It’s expected, maybe even fate, but only losing one? Now it just felt like luck was involved and there wasn’t any on her side as Jihyo found herself to be that one lost friend.

She tried to scan the elated faces surrounding her for signs of more familiar ones in vain. She could feel a sense of mild unease creeping over her as the crowd seemed to grow denser, making it all the more difficult to locate anything familiar by the minute.

She was slowly feeling herself losing grip over the situation when a gentle hand found its way to her shoulder.

The sudden contact startled her though, and she turned to see who it belonged to. Last thing she expected to face was a warm, comforting smile.

"Hi! You look like you’re on a mission,” you chuckled. “Need a little help?" you offered over the loud music.

Jihyo’s eyes quickly noticed your attire, and if the black and bulky clothes you wore didn’t make it evident enough, the “security” arm band did enough on its own. She’s never been more thankful for assistance in her life, and a flicker of relief crossed her features as she nodded.

"I'm looking for my friends, there’s no service and it's getting a bit overwhelming.” she explained, her voice barely audible.

You nodded understandingly, and gestured for her to follow you. With practiced ease, you navigated through the crowd while Jihyo trailed close.

Your familiarity with the festival grounds seemed to guide you effortlessly, and maybe it was the distress she was in, mixed with the fact that you jumped in to save her when no one seemed to care—maybe the uniform had its hand in as well, but… You looked pretty cute.

The soft and warm smile, the gentle and protective gaze as you looked back at her every once in a while, making sure she followed suit—and the hand… The way your hand brushed against her exposed skin as you guided her; never daring to rest it on her arm, her back…

The subtle spark your touch ignited didn’t go unnoticed on your end either.

In fact it was very much felt. Though you were focused on getting your job done, part of your attention was monopolised by her appearance.

Jihyo, a name you had yet to learn, was certainly one of the prettiest sights this weekend outdoors offered. The make up she wore was flattering, highlighting features you found to be among your favorite in people. They looked even better on her.

You crossed eyes with her brown ones a few times on your way over to the security post. The hints of worry as she looked around tugged at your heart, feeling a sudden need to protect her beyond the way your duty called for.

“Let's see if we can spot them from here." You said, holding on to the bit of professionalism left in you before helping her up the ladder to reach the small elevated shed.

It was a sort of temporary lifguard tower imitation. Your colleagues referred to it as a base to make it sound fancier—which you mocked them for multiple times—but part of you hesitated to use the word in case it would impress the damsel you’d brought over.

You judged against it though, something your future self would be thankful for, and instead guided the woman up to the railing surrounding it.

The vantage point offered a broad view over the better half of the festival, and her eyes wasted no time in scanning the animated sea of festival-goers.

You joined the search only a second later, snapping yourself out of the micro-trance her sculpted arm sent you in when she brought her hand up to shield her eyes.

You don’t know how long it took, if the silence as your gaze flitted from one cluster of people to another was awkward or not; but she ended reuniting with her friends.

Their shouts for her as they noticed her up the tower from the ground taught you her name, and you had a hard time tellibg whether your smile was because of how funny their desperate waving looked from up there, or because of the way her name fit every idea of her your mind had managed to come up with.

A wave of relief washed over Jihyo, and you were sure to never forget that grateful smile she sent you before rushing to friends.

Who knows how they got separated. The thought was very much far out of line, but you were glad she got lost.

—

As the day melted into the night, the festival began to wind down, and the crowd started to thin out.

Jihyo and her friends made their way towards the exit, with the day's excitement still clinging to their spirits. A bunch of memories were made that day, all ranking in their own degree of wholesomeness.

The smile on Jihyo’s lips was subtle, her mind lost in the remnants of her emotions as she walked surrounded by the people she cared so much about.

Their intensity was exhausting, and little did she know this festival had just one more thing to make her feel, and her friends were very much happy to help with that.

As the group approached the exit, they spotted you there, your attentive gaze scanning the departing crowd. A quiet presence amidst the festival's crescendo.

Jeongyeon, her most daring friend couldn't resist her own playful nature as she hurried to tease Jihyo, "Look, your savior’s still on duty.” Her elbow nudged into her best friend’s back a couple times as her messing around soon received back up.

“Why don't we go and say thank you for helping you?" Sana giggled, not bothering to wait for an answer from anyone, much less Jihyo as she made her way over to you.

The sight of a bubbly woman darting towards you was enough to get you on alert. Sana was oblivious to the walls you’d put up, and the ease with which she knocked them down was alarming.

You guessed her charm had a lot to do with it, but recognizing her as one of Jihyo’s friends from earlier did most of the job. As soon as you did, your gaze was quick to find the rest of the group approaching you.

Among them stood Jihyo, who stayed silent as they expressed their appreciation for your assistance earlier in the day.

Half their words didn’t make it to your brain, which was crazy considering there wasn’t many. In the moment, you found Jihyo’s silence to be much more interesting and important than anything else.

Teasing words and drunk people needing guidance could wait, you had an opportunity to take.

Your eyes met, and the sparks you caught in them were undoubtedly fueled by each other’s lingering effects ghosting over your skin. It seemed you could communicate without uttering a word, but you still needed her friends to make anything of this miracle.

The two of you exchanged numbers amidst the playful teasing of her friends, their laughter and banter serving as a backdrop to this tentative yet promising connection.

As she struggled to type in the right numbers in the correct order in your phone, Jihyo could only thank the moon for hiding the blush burning into her cheeks at the thought of everything this could lead to…

—

Well, back to square one apparently. Although the year it took to get there brought some wonderful changes.

“I can’t believe I’m back here again…” You sighed in disbelief over the situation.

You knew history repeats itself or whatever, and sure the romance you’ve built with Jihyo was one for the books, but damn… Losing your friends twice at the same festival is just too much.

While the situation kind of annoyed you, Jihyo seemed amused by it, laughing as she turned to you after a quick scan of the area. “Y/n, stop whining, it’s like a full circle moment, isn’t that fun?”

“Okay, but how do you lose eight people at once, I don’t understand.” You whined even more, frustrated, but the feeling was weak compared to the smile that cracked through your façade when you met your girlfriend’s pretty eyes.

They had a mischievous twinkle in them as she suggested, “Okay, let’s use your useless height. Let me climb on your shoulders,” she tapped on them and you lowered yourself down. “I’ll see if they’re anywhere near.”

“If that’s what you wanted all along you could have just said so.” You mumbled. “Didn’t have to lose everyone…”

A playful grin tugged at the corner of her lips as you caught her shameless one. You couldn’t resist her infectious joy. It only took you a few seconds to secure Jihyo onto your shoulders, and you went on to navigate through the scattered sea of people, laughter blending with the distant music.

"See them yet?" You asked after a while of weaving through the crowd. Jihyo shook her head, her hair swaying with the motion. "No," she frowned, gaze sweeping over the people’s head in search of the same familiar faces.

Apparently you took that as a sign to let her down, and she found out when you suddenly stopped in your tracks, crouching down to make her step down safely. Key word was sudden; Jihyo was not ready for the drop and ended up reaching for your hair out of survival instinct, accidentally tugging on it.

That hurt, naturally, so you let out a half genuine whine and brought a soothing hand to the top of your head as she tried to do some damage control. She’d made it down unharmed, but at what cost.

“Oh, baby I’m sorry—” She laughed through her apology, and although you didn’t doubt her concern, her laughter did make the mocking come out on top.

Her hands tried to convince you otherwise, gently brushing your hair away from your face. You felt a rush of warmth as Jihyo's fingers brushed against your skin, her touch sending that same old shiver down your spine.

Despite her obvious amusement, there was an undeniable tenderness in her actions as she cupped your chin, her gaze scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. You couldn’t help but lean into her touch, appreciating how close she was.

“You should have warned me, did it actually hurt?” She asked and you pouted your lips in hopes to get a healing kiss from her own.

“Kind of.” You said, but she only gave you a few mocking giggles, making you sulk even more.

“I’m really sorry.” Jihyo's laughter was infectious, filling the air with joy as she peppered kisses all over you. You could feel the pain fading with each one of them. Each touch of her lips against your head, your forehead, spilling over your temples…

Placebo effect or the healing power of love, whichever it was, it worked.

It was in moments like these, where you stood together, lost in your own little world, that you realized how grateful you were for her and the love and warmth she’d brought into your life.

“Well, there you are!” A familiar voice you recognized as Nayeon’s pulled your eyes off each other, finding the rest of the group trailing behind her. “We’ve been looking everywhere, stop wandering off!”

“Yeah, or just get a room. No one wants to see this.” Jeongyeon gestured to the two of you, waving her hand around in a way that pulled a laugh out of everyone.

You only shared an amused look with Jihyo, a silent understanding prompting the two of you to playfully stick your tongues out in response, brushing off the harmless teasing.

—

Jihyo is competitive.

You knew that by now and learned the hard way. The only reason you don’t cry when she renders you bankrupt in Monopoly is because you’re cut from the same cloth.

She’d found her match in more ways than one, and her friends were oh so delighted, taking any opportunity to turn games into a true and free show by putting the two of you on opposite teams.

“You don’t stand a chance.” You told Jihyo, grabbing the cornbags from the friendly festival-goers who’d put up the game and turned it into a side attraction.

Trashtalk isn’t the most loving kind of talk, but the two of you kept it playful and harmless, taking it as a form of bonding.

“I love you.” Jihyo answered, ignoring your words, and her knowing look startling you into a horrifying realisation.

How could you forget about the pre-game vows…

“Right, I love you too.” You smiled, quickly going over to her side in order to lay a shy kiss on her cheek. The gesture pulled a few aw’s and laughs from the small crowd around, but you could very well distinguish your friend’s teasing as you went back to your side.

The game started shortly after with Jihyo opening it. She never went easy on you, and neither did you, to everyone’s pleasure.

The way you bickered, trying to destabilize and distract each other in each round was a highlight of a lot of people’s night.

While you tried to stay civil, only sticking to playful taunts and harmless cheating claims, your girlfriend went as far as stealing one of your bags.

Honestly you weren’t mad she did it, you were only mad you didn’t do it first because the point she made with it was counted by the appointed referee, along with the crowd’s approval.

It was everything but fairplay, but it was a good time. A memory you’d cherish for a long time.

“Congratulations, Hyo.” You shook her hand and she chuckled at you formal greeting. “I hope you know I let you win.”

Her laugh resonated amidst people’s cheers and playful protests from the ones who’d been cheering for you.

The smile on your face stuck around even when she landed a playful swat on your shoulder. If it weren’t her you’d be sulking like never before. She was the only one you’d be glad to lose against.

—

The chaotic search earlier didn’t teach you anything. That same evening you wandered off again, although this time you did at least agree on a place to meet back at.

As the night slowly settled in the sky, moon and stars rising to offer a gentle lighting support to the ones the festival offered, the two of you embarked on a stroll around the grounds you were still familiar with somehow.

Hands clinging to the other, fingers intertwined and shared giggles marked the way you’d remember the moment.

After a while, you walked into a quieter, more secluded area where nature seemed to hush the lively music still blasting from the stages afar.

The playful twinkle in your eye was hard to miss and stay indifferent to for Jihyo as you sat down, arms wide open and inviting.

You recognized the grin she sent you before ignoring the arms she was actually dying to feel around her. She went to sit next to you instead, prompting your shoulders to sink down with your arms.

“Why are you so mean to me today…” You sighed, wonder dramatically evident on tour face.

Jihyo chuckled, a soothing sound that brought more comfort to the bubble you were immersing yourselves in. “I’m not mean, you just made it really easy for me to tease you,” she shrugged, eyes wiping her nonchalant words with the affection they held for you.

Your smile returned when she carried herself into your lap shortly after, shifting herself to comfortably rest her back against your chest.

A quiet conversation eased itself between the two of you, soft and shy words reminiscent of the path you’d shared together so far as you mindlessly cuddled her; your gentle swaying a soothing rhythm.

“Do you remember when we met here?” Your voice sounded a little more nostalgic than you meant as you spoke.

Jihyo’s gaze softened on the flowers standing in the grass she was picking at. “Of course I do. It was only a year ago.”

“Feels longer, though, no?” You asked, wondering if she felt the same for a few seconds. The bond you’d developed was so strong, sometimes you forgot it was only your 8th month together coming up.

Everything was still so fresh, yet intense in the most perfect way. You could only hope she was on the same page.

“It does.” She admitted quietly. “It’s a little scary to think about sometimes.”

You recognized the nerves in the small laugh she let out, and you focused on softening the patterns your fingers caressed over her upper arm as she continued. “I mean… I was hopeful when I gave you my number, but I really didn’t think it’d amount to anything close to what we have.”

A small smile tugged at your lips upon hearing her words. It was enough reassurance for your heart. “You know, I never told you this, but… I thought this then and I think it now; I’m so glad you got lost that day.”

Her giggles sounded amazing breaking the peace and quiet you were getting used to, and she suddenly sat up to look at you in an amused kind of disbelief.

“Seriously?”

“I’m sorry, but you looked so pretty, and your smile almost made me faint; what else was I supposed to think?”

“Really?” She said slyly, poking at your chest. “What else happened?”

“Well, there’s not much. We barely spoke and acknowledged each other for like ten minutes tops.” You reminded, and the truth only made her roll her eyes before bringing you in for a kiss.

Her sudden impulse led you to share a quick, tender kiss, something you almost considered a moment of weakness when you pulled away on instinct, expecting the girls’ banter and teasing.

You could only laugh at each other when you realized you were alone. Happiness bubbled between the two of you, pushing Jihyo to draw you back into a sweet, deeper kiss.

It didn’t last long though, as your embrace soon got interrupted by the sudden burst of fireworks further away.

Right, that’s what you’d wandered off for this time.

#twice x reader #jihyo x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #jihyo fluff #park jihyo #twice jihyo

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drewharrisonwriter · 4 months ago

Text

On the Mend - Ch 6: She's Here!

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Your daughter is here and you don't have a name for her yet.

Word count: 1,359

A/N: This is it! This wraps it up! Thank you for reading this story, I appreciate you all. 💜

Tagging these wonderful people: @tuquoquebrute @vickie5446 @softiedingo @theoraekenslover for this final update. You people are amazing! 😭

The car swerved slightly as Joel turned onto the main road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He glanced over at her, sweat beading on her forehead, her hands clutching her swollen belly with each sharp breath she took. Every contraction seemed to tighten its grip on her, making her wince, and he hated the helplessness he felt watching her in pain.

“Hang on, darlin’. We’re almost there,” Joel said, his voice strained but calm. He reached over to squeeze her hand briefly before pulling out his phone to dial Tommy’s number.

She was panting through the pain, squeezing his hand back as best she could, grateful for his presence even if everything else felt like it was falling apart. She watched him with blurry eyes as he spoke quickly into the phone.

“Tommy, it’s happening—yeah, we’re on the way to the hospital now,” Joel said, his voice laced with urgency. “Just... keep an eye on Sarah, alright? I’ll call when I can, maybe you can bring her up when things settle down.”

He paused, listening to Tommy’s response, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Thanks, Tommy. I’ll keep you posted.”

As he hung up, she turned to him, her face flushed and tired. “Thank you, Joel. I know this is... a lot.”

Joel shook his head, glancing over at her with a soft, concerned expression. “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to.”

She nodded, though she didn’t quite believe it—not entirely. Another contraction hit, and she groaned, her head falling back against the seat as she tried to breathe through it.

“What if... what if something happens to me?” she blurted out between breaths, her voice trembling with fear. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... if something happens, and I don’t make it, what’s going to happen to our baby? I don’t want her to grow up alone, like I did.”

Joel’s heart sank, and he reached over to squeeze her hand tighter, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. “Hey, none of that talk, okay? You’re gonna be fine. But even if—no, when you’re fine—she’s not gonna be alone, alright? She’s got you, she’s got me, and she’s got Sarah. You’ve got family now.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears spilling out despite her best efforts to hold them back. “But I... I never wanted to burden you with this, Joel. You made it clear you didn’t want a future with me, and I get that. But I’m scared, and I didn’t know how to...”

“Stop,” Joel interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here now. You and this baby—our baby—you’re not a burden. I’ve got you, darlin’.”

She nodded, but the fear didn’t fully dissipate. Still, there was comfort in his words, in the warmth of his hand holding hers. Another contraction hit, and she bit her lip, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing as they neared the hospital.

–

By the time they pulled into the emergency entrance, she was groaning with each step, her legs wide as she waddled through the doors. She could feel the baby’s head engaging, an overwhelming pressure that made her eyes water.

Joel was right beside her, guiding her with a firm but gentle grip on her arm. “Hang on, darlin’. You’re almost there.”

She could barely hear him through the pain, her mind focused solely on the urgency of getting the baby out. The nurses quickly ushered them into a room, and the doctor was there within minutes.

“Let’s get you checked, sweetheart,” the doctor said, helping her onto the bed. She barely had time to register the cold of the stirrups before the doctor’s voice broke through. “You’re fully dilated. This baby’s ready to come now.”

Her breath hitched, and she glanced at Joel, who was already at her side, holding her hand as another contraction ripped through her. “Wai–wha–No meds?” she managed to gasp.

The doctor shook her head. “No time, I’m afraid. But you’ve got this, okay? Just listen to your body.”

Joel leaned in, his forehead pressed gently against hers. “You can do this, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

She nodded, though every instinct screamed at her to panic. The pain was sharp, intense, and she clenched her teeth as she bore down, pushing with all the strength she had left.

“Oh, God, Joel!” she cried out, feeling the stretch, the burn as the baby’s head began to crown. “I swear, this kid has your big ol’ Miller head...”

Joel’s chuckle was half-pained, half-amused. “You can blame my momma for that one, darlin’. She always said we had the biggest and hardest heads in Texas.”

She let out a strangled laugh that quickly turned into another scream. “Yeah, well, this one’s ripping me apart! Goddammit, Joel, you’re never touching me again!”

Joel squeezed her hand, wincing as she nearly crushed his fingers, but he couldn’t help the smile that broke through his worry. “Let’s put a pin on that, darlin’.”

The doctor’s voice cut through the chaos. “One more big push, mama. You’re almost there.”

With a final, guttural scream, she pushed with everything she had left. The room seemed to blur, time slowing as she felt the baby slide free, the sudden release of pressure followed by the sweetest sound she’d ever heard—the wailing cry of their newborn daughter.

The doctor quickly placed the baby on her chest, and she sobbed, overwhelmed by the tiny, squirming miracle in her arms. Joel leaned over, his eyes wet with tears as he looked down at their daughter, his expression a mix of awe and pride.

“She’s here,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “You did it, darlin’. She’s perfect.”

She looked up at him, her own tears blurring her vision as she gazed at their daughter.

—

The next few hours were a blur of emotions—tears, laughter, and the quiet joy of holding their newborn daughter for the first time. Joel never left her side, even as they cleaned both her and the baby up.

Later, as the room quieted and the adrenaline began to wear off, they found themselves just staring at their baby girl, trying to come up with a name. They tossed around ideas, but nothing felt quite right.

“How about Harper?” Joel suggested, running a gentle finger along the baby’s tiny hand.

She scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “I don’t know... It’s cute, but it doesn’t feel like her.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully, staring down at their daughter. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s... I don’t know. She’s something else.”

Before they could debate further, the door opened, and Tommy stepped in with Sarah, who bounced excitedly on her heels. “Hey, y’all. Someone’s been waiting to meet her little sister.”

Sarah rushed over to the bed, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at the baby. “Is this her? Is Ellie here?”

Both new parents froze, exchanging glances. Sarah’s question hung in the air, sweet and innocent, but it seemed to have struck them deeply.

“Ellie?” Joel repeated, his voice soft.

Sarah nodded eagerly. “Yeah! That’s what I want to call her.”

All three adults laughed. She looked at Joel, who was already smiling down at their baby. “Ellie,” she murmured, testing the name on her tongue. “I like it.”

Joel nodded, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Me too. Ellie Miller... It’s perfect.”

Sarah beamed, leaning in to kiss her baby sister’s head. “Hi, Ellie. I’m your big sister.”

They watched the tender moment, their hearts full as they took in the sight of their girls together.

Joel leaned closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they both watched Sarah and Ellie bond. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his voice a low whisper just for her. “I don’t know what the future looks like, but... I know I want it to look like this.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder, “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Me too.”

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earthlybeam · 1 month ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/earthlybeam/769459260336881664/httpswwwtumblrcomearthlybeam7694011649975091?source=share

Hello. It's great.🥰💕 Is it possible for you to add more elves or characters to this request? (For example, other elves you wrote)

↓

Legolas, Elrohir, Elladan, Erestor, celeborn Versions are below. At the bottom of this post, I’ll leave link to of the last one featuring Mirkwood elves Feren, Meludir, Galion elros.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

Yandere/Dark Elf Legolas x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

𖧧 Legolas, with his keen elven senses and deep emotional connection to the world, would find himself utterly captivated by the presence of the fairy reader. To him, you’re not just beautiful—you’re ethereal, a creature of magic that even the most ancient songs of the elves could not capture. His obsession begins quietly, admiring you from afar, but it quickly becomes all-encompassing. Every moment he spends away from you is an eternity, and every word you speak to someone else stirs a jealousy in him that he cannot suppress.

𖧧 Legolas believes the world is far too dangerous for someone as delicate and magical as you. The shadows of Middle-earth, the wars, the greed of men—all of it threatens to tarnish the beauty of your existence. He uses this reasoning to keep you close, never allowing you to stray far from his sight. His words are sweet but laced with unyielding control “The world outside does not deserve your light, meleth nîn. Only I can ensure you are safe.”

𖧧 Isolation as a Form of Love He would gradually isolate you, not out of malice but because he truly believes he is the only one capable of understanding and appreciating you. He would take you deep into the heart of Mirkwood or another secluded haven, creating a sanctuary just for you. Every aspect of your surroundings would be tailored to your liking, but you would find yourself entirely dependent on him.

𖧧 Legolas’s control over you wouldn’t always be overt. He would gently guide your choices, framing his manipulation as concern. If you expressed a desire to explore the wider world, his face would fall, his voice soft and pleading “Do not leave me, my star. The world out there is cruel, and I cannot bear to lose you to it.”

𖧧 Fierce Jealousy if Anyone who dares approach you would feel the weight of Legolas’s jealousy. His calm, composed demeanor would shift into something darker when he feels his claim on you is threatened. His sharp eyes would narrow, and his words would become cold and cutting “You waste your time with others who cannot even begin to understand you. Return to me, where you belong.”

𖧧 Darker Displays of Affection In private, Legolas’s affection would border on suffocating. He would cradle you in his arms, his voice filled with a desperate intensity “You are mine, forever. No one else will ever love you as I do.” He would press fervent kisses to your face and neck, his grip on you firm, as if afraid you might vanish from his grasp.

𖧧 Legolas is deeply skilled at balancing his dark possessiveness with moments of overwhelming tenderness. He would bring you gifts—delicate flowers, shimmering stones, and other treasures he collects during his travels. He would present them to you with soft smiles, but his words would carry an undertone of need “I found this for you, meleth nîn. Do you see how I think of you always?”

𖧧 The Obsession with Your Magic As a fairy, your connection to nature and magic would fascinate and enthrall him. He would often sit silently, watching you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. If you use your magic, he would be in awe, but also possessive, feeling as though your abilities were something he must protect—something no one else should witness.

𖧧 Physical Possession as Legolas’s need to have you close manifests in physical ways. He insists on holding your hand whenever you walk together, his grip unyielding. He loves to touch your hair, often braiding it with flowers he’s picked, whispering how your beauty humbles him. However, his touch can sometimes feel almost desperate, as though he fears losing you if he lets go.

𖧧 Violent Tendencies Toward Threats Should anyone threaten or attempt to harm you, Legolas would shed all pretense of calm. His skill as a warrior would transform into something terrifying. He would eliminate the threat without hesitation, his piercing gaze and unrelenting precision a clear warning to anyone who might think of crossing him again.

𖧧 Emotional Manipulation If you ever challenge his possessiveness or express a desire for more freedom, Legolas would turn to emotional manipulation. His voice would break, his eyes filled with sorrow “Do you not see how deeply I love you? Everything I do is for you. Without you, I am nothing.”

𖧧 Legolas’s dark love for you is a mix of genuine adoration and an overpowering need for control. He cannot fathom a life without you, and his every action reflects this. Whether through tender gestures, whispered promises, or unyielding possession, he is determined to keep you by his side, no matter the cost.

𖧧 Legolas would often speak of eternity, of how your souls are entwined and meant to be together forever. He would promise you that even after the world changes, even after the time of the elves has passed, his love for you would endure “You are my everything, meleth nîn. The stars will fade, the forests will wither, but my love for you will never die.” In his dark, yandere state, Legolas’s love is a consuming fire—intense, unwavering, and terrifying in its depth. Yet beneath the darkness, there remains a glimmer of the elf who simply wants to cherish and protect the one he loves most in the world.

𖧧 Legolas would be endlessly fascinated by your fairy wings, treating them as sacred and beautiful. He would spend hours marveling at their colors, texture, and delicate movement. He insists on helping you groom them, using the excuse that they are too precious to be left unattended. His touch is both reverent and possessive, his fingers lingering a little too long as he smooths out the edges or untangles strands caught in your feathers.

𖧧 While he is gentle with your wings, there’s a darker undertone to his care. He sees them as a symbol of your freedom, something he desires to bind to himself. He would often whisper, “These wings are too perfect for the cruel world—they should carry you only to me.”

𖧧 Legolas will often wrap his arms around you from behind, pulling your wings flush against his chest as if claiming them. His fingers would trace the base of your wings where they meet your back, a possessive gesture that sends shivers down your spine.

𖧧 In public, Legolas would be subtly protective but in private, his need for physical closeness becomes overwhelming. He always ensures he is touching you in some way—whether it’s holding your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, or resting his forehead against your shoulder while his arms cage you in.

𖧧 His kisses are deep and all-consuming. They leave no room for doubt about his feelings. His lips would trail from your mouth to your neck, always hovering near the curve of your shoulders where your wings start. He sees this area as uniquely yours and uniquely his to adore.

𖧧 If you’re seated together, he’ll pull you onto his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. If you protest or try to move, his grip tightens slightly. He murmurs, “I cannot let you go. Not now, not ever.”

𖧧 Legolas would weave delicate, intricate braids into your hair, often incorporating small feathers or leaves he finds in the forest, symbolizing his bond with you. These tokens of nature are his way of marking you as his.

𖧧 He insists on sleeping beside you, his body curled protectively around yours. His hand often rests on your wing or the small of your back, a silent reminder of his claim. He sleeps lightly, waking instantly if you shift or try to leave his side.

𖧧 Legolas is highly territorial. He reacts coldly to anyone who even glances at you too long. If another elf expresses admiration for your wings or your beauty, Legolas’s dark side flares. While his exterior remains calm, there’s a burning intensity in his gaze, and he ensures the offending elf is kept far from you.

𖧧 Legolas crafts a special space for you within the forests of Mirkwood, a sanctuary that only he can enter. While it’s beautiful and serene, it’s also a gilded cage. He insists it’s for your safety, whispering, “The world outside is cruel. Here, you’re protected… here, you’re mine.”

𖧧 He carefully watches your every movement, memorizing your habits and preferences. He uses this knowledge to anticipate your needs, always offering what you want before you ask. This might seem sweet at first, but over time, it becomes clear that he’s keeping meticulous control over every aspect of your life.

𖧧 He dislikes it when you interact with others, even your fellow fairies. If you must spend time away from him, he lingers nearby, watching from the shadow , ensuring no one gets too close.

𖧧 Legolas uses physical affection as both comfort and a reminder of his dominance. When you seem restless or distant, he pulls you into his embrace, holding you so tightly it’s almost suffocating. He murmurs sweet nothings in Sindarin, his voice low and soothing, “You belong with me, meleth nîn.”

𖧧 His love for your wings leads him to kiss them often, a possessive act that feels intimate and intense. He trails his lips along their edges, whispering how perfect and ethereal you are, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.

𖧧 If you ever try to resist his advances or question his possessiveness, he becomes eerily calm. His voice softens, but his words carry a quiet menace: “You don’t understand, do you? I’m the only one who can truly protect you. The only one who loves you as you deserve.”

𖧧 Legolas sees you as fragile and delicate, despite your own strength. He insists on accompanying you everywhere, even if it’s just a short walk in the woods. He keeps his bow and quiver ready at all times, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any potential threats.

𖧧 If you ever get hurt, no matter how minor, he becomes frantic. His hands shake as he tends to your wounds, his voice breaking as he whispers, “This world is too cruel for someone like you. I won’t let it harm you again.”

𖧧 Over time, his protectiveness becomes suffocating. He starts discouraging you from flying too far, insisting it’s dangerous. He grounds you in more ways than one, using his love as both a shield and a cage.

𖧧 Legolas constantly reminds you that his love for you is eternal. He sees your bond as something that transcends time and space. “We are bound, you and I,” he says, his voice filled with both tenderness and a chilling certainty. “Not even death could part us.”

𖧧 His gestures of love are both beautiful and overwhelming. He carves intricate wooden sculptures of your wings, sings hauntingly beautiful songs about your bond, and writes poems about your beauty. Yet all these acts carry an undertone of obsession—his love is a flame that consumes everything in its path.

𖧧 To Legolas, you are not just a companion or lover. You are his muse, his obsession, and the center of his world. And he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side, even if it means clipping your wings to ensure you never leave him.

ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ

⭐️𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓱𝓲𝓻

Yandere/Dark Elf elrohir x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

✧ Elrohir’s fascination with you would begin innocently—his admiration for your ethereal beauty and magical presence would seem pure. However, this admiration would quickly turn obsessive. His deep love and admiration for your fairy-like grace would warp into an insatiable need to possess every aspect of you. Your laughter, your scent, the light in your eyes—all of it would become things he craves, things he believes should belong to him alone.

✧ Unyielding Protection As a dark version of himself, Elrohir’s protective nature would grow extreme. Any threat to you—real or imagined—would spark an immediate and merciless reaction. He would eliminate any potential danger with cold precision, ensuring no harm could ever reach you. To him, even his brother Elladan might seem like a rival or a threat, and his protective instincts would drive him to isolate you from everyone, including family.

✧ Elrohir would see the world as too dangerous for you, your delicate fairy nature too precious and fragile to be exposed to its harshness. He would insist on keeping you close at all times, often in places he deems “safe.” Whether it’s a hidden sanctuary deep in Rivendell or a secluded glade in the woods, these places would become your gilded cage, crafted by him to keep you away from anything he fears might hurt—or take—you away.

✧ Subtle Control Though his love is obsessive, Elrohir would initially cloak his control in kindness. He would subtly manipulate your choices, making you believe that staying close to him is what you truly want. But as his dark tendencies grow stronger, he would begin to exert more overt control, dictating what you wear, where you go, and who you see. He would justify this as “ensuring your happiness” or “protecting your freedom,” while in reality, he’s ensuring no one else can influence you but him.

✧ Elrohir’s jealousy would be as cold and sharp as a blade. If anyone even looked at you with admiration, he would see it as an affront to his claim on you. He wouldn’t lash out openly but would ensure the offender disappears—either banished from his presence or worse. To him, no one else has the right to so much as dream of you.

✧ Elrohir’s love would manifest in overwhelming gestures. He’d shower you with gifts—rare jewels, enchanted items, or delicately crafted things that reflect his adoration for you. But every gift would come with a possessive undertone, a reminder that these treasures are from him, and they symbolize your bond. He’d often remind you that no one else could offer you the love and devotion he does.

✧ Intense Physical Affection His physical affection would be intense and all-encompassing. He’d hold you tightly, almost as if he feared you might vanish if he loosened his grip. His kisses would be deep and consuming, laced with an almost desperate need to reaffirm his claim on you. These moments might feel romantic at first, but they’d quickly take on a suffocating edge, revealing his need to dominate every part of your heart and soul.

✧ Elrohir’s confessions of love would be both poetic and chilling. He’d speak of how you are the light in his otherwise dark world, the one being who gives him purpose. But there would be an undertone of obsession in his words, a belief that you are his alone. He might whisper things like, “You are my starlight, my sanctuary. Without you, I am nothing—and without me, you are lost.”

✧ Consequence of Defiance If you ever tried to resist his control or leave him, Elrohir’s dark side would fully emerge. His normally soft and composed demeanor would vanish, replaced by cold fury and unrelenting determination. He would make it clear that escape is not an option. “You belong to me,” he would say, his voice low and unyielding. “You cannot run from me, for I would find you no matter where you go.”

✧ The Line Between Love and Possession In his heart, Elrohir would truly believe that everything he does is for your sake. He would see his obsessive control and suffocating love as the ultimate expression of devotion. To him, your bond transcends choice or consent—it is fate, unbreakable and eternal. Even as his actions grow darker, he would justify them in the name of love, believing that no one else could ever love or protect you as he does.

✧ Private Intensity Behind closed doors, Elrohir’s affection would be overwhelming. He would pour all of his emotions into your shared moments, whether through whispered words of devotion or intense, consuming embraces. He would cherish every second with you, but his adoration would carry an edge of possessiveness that makes his love feel more like a binding vow than a gift.

✧ A Dangerous Protector While Elrohir’s dark love would often manifest in possessiveness, it would also make him an unrelenting protector. Any true threat to your safety would be met with swift and deadly action. He would not hesitate to strike down anyone who dared to harm or even approach you without his approval. His protective instincts, while born of love, would leave a trail of destruction in their wake.

✧ Elrohir would see your relationship as eternal, unbreakable by anything or anyone. He would frequently speak of “forever,” not as a promise but as a statement of fact. To him, you are his destiny, his one true love, and he would do anything to ensure that you remain by his side for all eternity—whether you want to or not.

✧ Elrohir's physical affection is intense and consuming, always leaving you feeling overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his devotion. He's drawn to your delicate, otherworldly form like a moth to a flame. Your wings-so fragile and luminescent-are his greatest fascination. He's obsessed with their beauty and the way they shimmer in the light, often running his fingers over the edges with a reverence that borders on obsession.

✧ Elrohir makes it his responsibility to care for your wings. He gently brushes them, ensuring they remain pristine and free from harm. If you're ever injured, he's the first to notice, tending to your wounds with a tenderness that contrasts with the dark possessiveness in his gaze. But his care comes at a price: he won't let anyone else even glance at your wings, seeing them as a part of you that belongs only to him.

✧ When Elrohir holds you, it's as if he's trying to fuse your soul with his. His arms wrap around you tightly, his hands tracing the curve of your back with a possessive touch. He's careful with your wings, always mindful not to damage them, but his grip on the rest of you is unyielding. To him, holding you this way is a reminder that you're his and no one else's.

✧ Elrohir worships you with every touch and gesture. He kneels before you, his hands cradling your face or resting on your wings as if you're a divine being sent to him alone. He often kisses the tips of your wings, murmuring words of devotion in Elvish as his lips graze the fragile edges. These moments are both tender and unnerving, as his love feels more like a claim than a gift.

✧ Elrohir insists on being close to you at all times, often resting his head against your shoulder or wrapping his arms around your waist while you sit together. His presence is inescapable, his hands always finding their way to your arms, your hair, or the base of your wings. He craves the warmth of your body, needing the physical connection to reassure himself that you're still his.

✧ Restrained Passion Though his love for you is fiery and consuming, Elrohir is careful when it comes to your wings. He knows how delicate they are and handles them with the utmost care, but this restraint only amplifies the intensity of his affection elsewhere. He kisses you deeply and possessively, his hands gripping your waist or shoulders as though he's trying to anchor you to him.

✧ In private, Elrohir's affection becomes even more overwhelming. He whispers sweet but dark words in your ear, his hands stroking your wings as he tells you how much he loves and needs you. He might say things like, "Your wings are the light of my existence, but it's your heart I crave the most. You were made for me, and I will never let you go."

✧ Elrohir is fiercely protective of you, especially your wings. He refuses to let anyone near you, even if their intentions are innocent. If anyone so much as brushes against your wings, his calm demeanor vanishes, replaced by cold, simmering fury. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure that no one else can touch what he sees as his alone.

✧ To keep you safe, Elrohir constructs a hidden sanctuary just for the two of you. This place is designed to accommodate your wings, with wide, open spaces for you to stretch them and soft perches where you can rest. Every detail is meticulously planned, but it's all done to keep you isolated, away from prying eyes and potential threats.

✧ Possessive Displays of Affection Elrohir loves to touch your wings in public, not just as an act of affection but as a way to assert his claim. He'll run his fingers along the edges or rest his hand on your back, just below your wings, letting everyone know that you're his. These gestures are subtle yet unmistakable, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that you belong to him.

✧ Dark Devotion His care for you borders on reverence, but it's tinged with a dark intensity that can be suffocating. Elrohir sees your wings as a symbol of your beauty and uniqueness, something that sets you apart and makes you his perfect match. He would go to any lengths to protect and preserve them, even if it means keeping you away from the world.

✧ Eternal Love and Possession Elrohir frequently speaks of your eternity together, his voice filled with both love and an unyielding determination. He believes your wings are a part of your soul, and by cherishing them, he's cherishing you.

"You are my starlight," he might say, tracing the edges of your wings with his fingers. "And I will guard this light until the end of time. You are mine, now and forever."

ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ

⚔️𝓔𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓷

Yandere/Dark Elf Elladan x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

⭒ Obsessive Love and Possessive Tendencies as Dark Elladan’s love for you is consuming and overwhelming, transforming him into a possessive guardian of your existence. He views you as a radiant, ethereal being whose light belongs solely to him. His obsession manifests in the way he watches over you, memorizing every detail about your life. From the tone of your voice to the way your wings shimmer in the moonlight, no aspect of you escapes his intense focus.

⭒ Elladan is convinced that the world is too dangerous for someone as delicate and otherworldly as you. He would use his charm and cunning to gradually isolate you, convincing you it’s for your safety. Whether it’s Orcs, Men, or even other Elves, he sees everyone as a potential threat to your purity. Rivendell becomes your gilded cage, a sanctuary where no one but Elladan and his chosen few can approach you.

⭒ Elladan’s playful, carefree nature from his lighter self twists into a more manipulative version. He decides what you eat, where you go, and who you speak to, all under the guise of ensuring your comfort and security. If you question his decisions, he brushes off your concerns with soothing words or sharp remarks about the dangers of the outside world.

⭒ Dark Playfulness with a Dangerous Edge While Elladan retains his mischievous streak, it becomes laced with a darker intent. He might tease you about how fragile you are or how easily someone else might try to steal you away, but there’s an underlying menace to his words. He enjoys watching you squirm under his possessive gaze, yet his affection never wanes—it only deepens, becoming almost suffocating.

⭒ Elladan’s affection is no longer the lighthearted smothering of his usual self. Now, every kiss, every embrace, feels like a declaration of ownership. He pulls you close, his grip firm, as though afraid you might vanish if he lets go. His kisses are deep and lingering, filled with a passion that borders on desperation. He whispers words like “Mine” and “You belong to me” against your skin, reaffirming his claim on you.

⭒ Jealousy and Ruthless Elimination of Rivals as Elladan is not one to tolerate any form of competition. If someone else dares to show interest in you or even gazes at you for too long, they become a target of his wrath. While his actions are subtle, they are devastating—an Orc ambush on the road, a sudden reassignment far from Rivendell. To Elladan, it’s not cruelty; it’s justice for anyone who dares to challenge his bond with you.

⭒ Calm but Dangerous When Upset If you defy him or try to escape his control, Elladan’s usual calm demeanor turns chilling. His voice drops to a quiet, menacing tone, his eyes dark with an intensity that makes it clear there’s no point in resisting him. “You think you can leave me?” he might say, his fingers brushing your cheek with deceptive gentleness. “You belong here. With me. Always.”

⭒ Elladan’s penchant for banter becomes darker and more pointed. He enjoys teasing you in a way that reminds you of how deeply tied to him you are. Comments like “Where would you go without me? The wilds would swallow you whole” or “Don’t you know I’m the only one who can truly keep you safe?” slip from his lips with a sly smile.

⭒ Elladan’s protectiveness borders on paranoia. He’s haunted by the memory of his mother, Celebrian, being taken and tormented. This trauma fuels his need to keep you close at all times, never letting you venture far without his supervision. Even a short walk alone becomes a battle of wills, with Elladan insisting it’s far too dangerous.

⭒ Tender Moments Turn Intense Though his love is dark and obsessive, Elladan is still capable of tender moments. When you are hurt or upset, he tends to you with a gentle touch, his concern genuine. However, his tenderness often takes a possessive turn as he uses your vulnerability to draw you closer to him. “See?” he murmurs as he bandages a wound. “You need me. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

⭒ Punishment as a Form of Devotion If you ever push too far—attempt to flee, reject his affection, or openly defy him—Elladan’s patience snaps. His punishments are never physical but emotional, isolating you further or withholding his usual warmth to make you regret your actions. He believes this is for your own good, a way to teach you that life without him is unbearable.

⭒ A Deep Fear of Losing You Beneath Elladan’s dark obsession lies a deep-rooted fear of losing you. The idea of you being taken from him, as his mother was, drives his every action. Even in his darkest moments, his love for you remains the foundation of his behavior—twisted, suffocating, and unyielding. “I would burn the world to keep you safe,” he tells you with a fervent gleam in his eyes. And you believe him.

⭒ Elladan’s need to be close to you can feel overwhelming. He insists on sleeping curled around you, his arms and legs tangled with yours while his hands rest protectively on your wings. Even when awake, he stays close enough that his presence feels inescapable, his touch constant and grounding, as if to remind you that you can’t leave him.

⭒ In his darkest moments, Elladan’s love takes on an almost sinister edge. As he strokes your wings, his voice drops to a quiet, unyielding tone: “I would destroy this world to keep you safe, my love. No one else will have you, not while I live. If you ever leave me…” His words trail off, but the weight of his promise lingers, heavy and chilling.

⭒ Elladan is utterly captivated by your wings, seeing them as the most beautiful and delicate part of you. They symbolize your ethereal nature and remind him of how different—and precious—you are compared to anyone else. He often reaches out to touch them, his fingers brushing gently against their fragile, shimmering surface, murmuring about how they’re a part of you no one else should dare to admire. He’ll make a habit of preening your wings himself, treating the act as an intimate ritual that only he is allowed to perform.

⭒ Elladan’s physical affection is overwhelming and constant, designed to remind you that you are his. He loves to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His touch is firm yet reverent, as though he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go. When he kisses you, it’s slow and consuming, as if he’s trying to pour all his love—and his claim—into every movement.

⭒ Your wings are delicate, and Elladan uses that as an excuse to carry you everywhere he deems too dangerous for you to tread on your own. He lifts you effortlessly into his arms, holding you close as if shielding you from the world. “You don’t need to walk when I’m here,” he says softly, brushing his lips against your temple. He particularly enjoys moments where you rest your head against his chest, your wings fluttering faintly as you relax in his embrace.

⭒ Elladan makes tending to your wings his sacred duty. He carefully cleans and smooths them, ensuring they remain unblemished and perfect. These moments are deeply intimate, with Elladan whispering soft words of adoration as he works. “You are a vision of light,” he murmurs, his hands gentle yet possessive. If anyone else even suggests touching your wings, Elladan’s playful nature vanishes, replaced by a cold, territorial glare.

⭒ Elladan’s touch is ever-present, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he’s not holding onto you. Whether it’s a hand resting possessively on your waist, his fingers threading through your hair, or his arms encircling you from behind, Elladan ensures you’re always within his reach. He especially loves trailing his fingers along the edges of your wings, marveling at their beauty and fragility.

⭒ Elladan’s kisses are an extension of his obsession, a way for him to claim you over and over again. He often cups your face in his hands, pulling you into deep, lingering kisses that leave you breathless. When he’s feeling particularly possessive, he’ll press kisses along your neck, shoulders, and the base of your wings, whispering promises of devotion between each one.

⭒ Elladan is fiercely protective of your wings, treating any threat to them as a personal offense. If you’re in danger, he places himself between you and the threat, his sword drawn and his expression deadly. Afterward, he checks your wings meticulously, his hands trembling slightly as he ensures they’re unharmed. If they’re injured, even slightly, his rage is uncontrollable—he’ll hunt down whoever or whatever caused.

⭒ Elladan often uses his strength to keep you close, holding you in place when you try to pull away. If you’re upset or resisting his affection, he’ll wrap his arms around you tightly, murmuring soothing words in your ear. “Shhh, my star,” he whispers. “Don’t fight me. I only want to keep you safe.” His hold is firm but never painful, though the possessiveness behind it is undeniable.

⭒ When you’re frightened or upset, Elladan becomes uncharacteristically gentle, his dark obsession momentarily overshadowed by genuine care. He’ll guide you into his arms, wrapping you in his cloak to shield your wings from any chill. His hands stroke your back and wings with a tenderness that almost feels out of place, his voice soft as he whispers reassurances. “You have nothing to fear,” he says. “Not when I’m here to protect you.”

⭒ Elladan loves to leave subtle marks of his affection on you—not bruises or anything that would harm you, but small, lingering touches that remind you of him. He might braid small flowers into your hair and wings, saying they symbolize how he sees you: beautiful, delicate, and entirely his. He also loves to kiss the base of your wings, leaving the faintest sensation of his presence there.

⭒ When you’re resting, Elladan insists on holding you close, his body curled protectively around yours. Your wings are carefully tucked into his embrace, and he makes sure they’re free of any pressure or discomfort. He’ll murmur soft words of love and devotion as you drift off to sleep, his hand trailing along your back and wings in soothing strokes.

⭒ To Elladan, your wings are sacred, and he treats them as such. He often kneels behind you, tracing their delicate patterns with a mix of awe and possessiveness. “You are beyond anything I could have imagined,” he whispers, his voice tinged with both reverence and obsession. His worshipful treatment of your wings becomes another way for him to express his undying devotion.

⭒ Even in the midst of battle or danger, Elladan finds ways to express his love. If you’re injured, he becomes a whirlwind of deadly precision, cutting down anyone or anything that threatens you before turning his full attention to your wounds. He carefully tends to your wings, his hands steady despite the fury still burning in his eyes. “I’ll never let anything harm you again,” he vows, his voice low and fierce.

ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ

📚𝓔𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻

Yandere/Dark Elf erestor x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

✎ Erestor’s sharp mind, typically dedicated to strategy and problem-solving, becomes consumed by you. As a fairy, your ethereal nature fascinates him beyond reason. He memorizes your every movement, expression, and habit, cataloging them with the same meticulousness he applies to organizing Rivendell’s library. You become the centerpiece of his thoughts, an intricate puzzle he is determined to solve and possess entirely.

✎ Erestor views Rivendell—and the world beyond—as rife with threats to your delicate beauty and unique spirit. He takes it upon himself to “shield” you, using his influence and intelligence to ensure no one has the chance to get too close. He might subtly undermine relationships or tasks that demand your attention away from him, presenting his actions as logical solutions for your safety and well-being.

✎ Intellectual Manipulation With his dry wit and logical demeanor, Erestor has a way of twisting conversations to suit his ends. If you express a desire for freedom or independence, he’ll counter with rational arguments, using your own words and feelings against you. His tone remains calm and measured, but there’s an underlying intensity to his logic that leaves you questioning your own desires.

✎ Erestor doesn’t overtly forbid you from seeing others but instead orchestrates situations that make solitude—and his company—the more appealing option. He may invite you to the library for long discussions or leave thoughtful notes that demonstrate how deeply he understands you, creating a sense that no one else could possibly connect with you as he does.

✎ Erestor takes control of your surroundings with an almost imperceptible finesse. Your favorite books suddenly appear on your bedside table, your preferred flowers are always in bloom near your window, and your schedules mysteriously align with his. These gestures, though thoughtful, are calculated moves to keep you within his grasp.

✎ Erestor’s reserved nature makes his affection all the more intense when it manifests. His love comes in subtle, possessive gestures: a hand lingering on your shoulder, his gaze locking onto yours a moment too long, or a quiet murmur of your name laced with reverence. Each interaction feels like a promise that you are his and no one else’s.

✎ Dark Humor and Sarcasm When it comes to others who might admire you, Erestor’s dry sense of humor takes on a cutting edge. He might comment on their shortcomings in a way that seems lighthearted but carries a clear warning: they are beneath his notice and yours. His sarcasm becomes a weapon to belittle potential rivals without overt hostility.

✎ Relentless Devotion In private, Erestor’s love borders on suffocating. He insists on knowing your thoughts and feelings, claiming it’s to better understand you. He’ll whisper promises of eternal devotion, his voice a mix of tenderness and quiet intensity: “You are mine, in mind and spirit. No force in Arda could take you from me.”

✎ Anger as Ice, Not Fire When angered or jealous, Erestor doesn’t lash out. Instead, his rage is cold and calculated. He distances himself emotionally, withholding his usual warmth while quietly orchestrating events to punish those who crossed him—or you. His icy demeanor during these times is more unsettling than any outburst.

✎ Erestor expresses his affection through carefully chosen gifts that serve as reminders of his claim over you. A rare, beautifully bound book inscribed with a personal note; a necklace with a pendant shaped like a fairy’s wing; or even a secret alcove in the library filled with items he knows you’ll love. Each gift comes with a sense of unspoken ownership.

✎ Jealousy and Control Even the smallest perceived threat to his connection with you triggers his jealousy. If another Elf or being shows interest, Erestor intervenes with quiet but ruthless efficiency. He may ruin their reputation, reassign them elsewhere in Rivendell, or subtly manipulate circumstances to ensure they stay far away.

✎ Erestor is not one for spontaneous displays of love; every touch, kiss, or embrace is deliberate and meaningful. When he pulls you close, it’s with a firmness that leaves no doubt of his control. He may press you against a library wall, his calm exterior giving way to an undercurrent of hunger as he murmurs, “You are my greatest obsession.”

✎ Punishment through Silence If you defy or upset him, Erestor’s response is cold withdrawal. He won’t argue or raise his voice but will retreat into an icy silence that leaves you desperate for his attention. When he finally relents, it’s with a calculated show of forgiveness that reinforces his dominance: “I can’t stay angry with you, even when you test my patience.”

✎ A Prison Disguised as Paradise as Erestor creates an environment so tailored to your desires that it feels like a dream, but it’s also a cage. He ensures you’re surrounded by comfort and beauty, but every aspect of your life is subtly controlled by him. You may not notice the bars until it’s too late to escape.

✎ Unwavering Devotion to “Forever” as Erestor’s obsession transcends mortal limits. To him, your connection is eternal, and he will do whatever it takes to ensure you remain by his side. His whispers of love often carry a chilling finality: “We were meant to endure together, through all the ages of the world. There is no life for you without me.”

✎ Erestor is utterly captivated by your wings, seeing them as the most exquisite part of your being. He often finds excuses to examine them under the guise of “ensuring their safety.” His fingers, cool and deliberate, trace the veins of your wings with reverence, murmuring about their perfection. He is careful, almost tender, but the intensity in his gaze reveals the darker undercurrent of his obsession.

✎ Erestor insists on personally overseeing the care of your wings, providing rare balms and oils to maintain their ethereal glow. However, this “care” often feels suffocating, as he restricts your movements to ensure no harm befalls them. He subtly discourages you from flying, citing dangers that only he, in his wisdom, can foresee. Your wings become both a source of his adoration and a justification for his control.

✎ Erestor’s touches are firm and calculated, designed to leave no doubt that you belong to him. He often places a hand on your shoulder or waist in public, a silent declaration to others that you are under his protection. In private, his affection is more intense—his hands resting on your wings, holding you close as if anchoring you to him.

✎ Affection with a Hint of Dominance When Erestor kisses you, it’s never impulsive. Each kiss is a deliberate act, slow and consuming, as if he’s memorizing the taste of your lips. He often holds the base of your wings gently while he kisses you, a gesture that is both protective and possessive, reminding you of his unwavering control.

✎ Erestor’s acts of service are deeply personal and intimate. He meticulously prepares special resting cushions designed to accommodate your wings, ensuring they are never strained or damaged. He even crafts a private garden filled with soft, flowering vines that mimic the feeling of flight, but only he is allowed to accompany you there.

✎ Erestor often finds ways to draw attention to your wings, praising their beauty in his quiet, intense manner. He might compose poetry comparing their shimmer to the starlight, whispering it to you in the library. However, his admiration is always tinged with a darker possessiveness: “No one else could ever truly appreciate their splendor as I do.”

✎ Under the guise of concern, Erestor controls nearly every aspect of your care. He insists on inspecting your wings after any outing, running his hands over them to “check for damage” while subtly reinforcing your reliance on him. If you resist his care, his calm demeanor falters, replaced by a cold, commanding tone: “You do not understand the dangers, but I do. Trust me.”

✎ Erestor often wraps you in his arms, holding you against him in a way that presses your wings to his chest. These embraces are both comforting and confining, a reminder of his dominance. He murmurs soft, possessive words against your hair: “You are my light in this world. No one else will ever touch you as I do.”

✎ Delicate Worship of Her Wings At night, Erestor’s affection for your wings becomes almost ritualistic. He gently cleans and massages them with rare oils he procures from far-off lands, his touch lingering as he whispers about their beauty. His tone is reverent, but the intensity of his gaze betrays his darker longing to ensure that no one else could ever admire them as he does.

✎ Restrained Passion Though reserved by nature, Erestor’s affection for you occasionally breaks through in moments of unrestrained passion. He’ll press you against the shelves of the library or a quiet alcove, his hands cradling your wings as he kisses you deeply. His careful restraint keeps him from harming your wings, but the intensity of his touch leaves no doubt of his claim over you.

✎ Erestor uses your wings as a justification to limit your interactions with others. He insists that others wouldn’t understand the delicate care they require and that only he is capable of protecting them. If someone dares to compliment your wings, his mood shifts immediately, his sharp wit cutting them down with icy sarcasm.

✎ Erestor ensures you are surrounded by beauty and luxury, but everything is designed to keep you close. He creates a sanctuary where your wings are celebrated but also confined—a private library, a garden only you can access, all spaces where he is your sole companion.

✎ Possessive Words His declarations of love often focus on your wings as a symbol of your uniqueness. He whispers in your ear with a mix of reverence and obsession: “Your wings are a treasure, as are you. No one else could ever deserve their beauty—or yours.”

✎ Punishment through Neglect If you defy him, Erestor’s punishment is subtle but devastating. He withdraws his care, refusing to tend to your wings or offer his usual attentiveness. The absence of his affection leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed, a reminder of how deeply you rely on him. When he finally relents, his touch is more possessive than ever, a silent warning against future defiance.

✎ Erestor’s obsession with your wings reflects his belief that you are a creature meant to be cherished and protected—for eternity. He views his role in your life as sacred, and his dark devotion ensures that he will never allow you to leave his side. His voice is calm but unyielding as he vows “You are mine, for now and always. No one else will ever know your worth as I do.”

ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

Yandere/Dark Elf celeborn x Female Fairy Reader Headcanons

𖣂 Celeborn’s deep love for you, the fairy, would become all-consuming, and in this dark version of himself, it would warp his noble traits. His initial admiration for your ethereal beauty would turn into an obsessive desire to keep you in his domain forever. Celeborn would obsess over every little detail about you—your mannerisms, your voice, the way you flutter through the trees in Lothlórien. Everything about you would be perfect in his eyes, and he’d believe that no one else should ever have the privilege of witnessing your magic.

𖣂 Celeborn’s protective instincts would evolve into controlling behavior. He would keep you close, always by his side, ensuring that no one, not even the wind, could harm you. His realm, Lothlórien, would become your gilded cage. He’d forbid you from leaving the borders of his kingdom, believing that the outside world is too dangerous for someone as delicate as you. Celeborn would justify his actions as love, as an attempt to keep you safe, though you would feel more and more like a prisoner.

𖣂 Manipulative Gentlemen Despite his controlling nature, Celeborn would maintain his composed, dignified manner when interacting with you. He’d charm you with his wisdom, acting as the perfect gentleman, but there’s a darkness lurking behind those kind eyes. His words would be sweet but subtly manipulative. He would speak of your shared future, of forever, constantly reaffirming that you belong to him, even as he limits your freedom.

𖣂 Benevolent Tyranny He would lavish you with gifts, but these gifts would be laced with control. He might present you with beautiful, rare flowers from Lothlórien, but they’d always be in bloom under his careful watch, never allowing anyone else to touch or admire them. His love would feel smothering at times, as every action would be done in the name of keeping you safe and happy, but always at the cost of your independence.

𖣂 Jealousy in Silence as Celeborn’s jealousy would not be expressed in fits of rage, but in subtle, quiet acts of dominance. If another male elf so much as looked at you, Celeborn would appear almost immediately, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder or at your waist. His gaze would be sharp, calculating, silently warning others to keep their distance. Any attempt to talk to you would be interrupted, either by him stepping in or by a sudden, seemingly accidental change in the environment—a leaf dropping, the wind shifting—enough to send a silent, threatening message.

𖣂 Silent Watcher Celeborn would always be nearby, watching you, but never letting you know how closely. When you think you’re alone, he would be hidden, his eyes never leaving you. He’d memorize your every movement, and no action would go unnoticed. He believes that this is his duty, to watch over you, ensuring no harm comes your way. But it would feel less like protection and more like an invasion of your privacy.

𖣂 Possessive Affection When Celeborn expresses his love for you, it would be overwhelming and possessive. His compliments would border on obsessive, telling you that you are his, that you are the only thing that matters in his world. He’d often speak of his undying affection, saying things like, “You are my heart, my only love. I would protect you from all things, even from the world itself.” His actions would match his words—each touch would be tender, but it would feel like he’s marking you as his, ensuring that no one else can claim you.

𖣂 Romantic in the Darkest Way as Celeborn’s romantic gestures would be grand, but dark. He might take you on a walk under the stars in the Golden Wood, but the entire time, he’d be watching you, making sure you don’t speak to anyone else. When you share a quiet moment, he might lean in close and whisper in your ear, “My love for you transcends time. Nothing, not even death, will tear us apart.” His love, though beautifully worded, would start to feel like a trap, binding you to him eternally.

𖣂 Celeborn, knowing the pain of losing loved ones throughout his long life, would project his loneliness onto you. He would convince himself that you are the one being who can fill the void in his heart, the one soul that can stand by him forever. He’d be willing to do anything to keep you at his side—no matter the cost to you. The idea of losing you would break him, and he’d go to great lengths to ensure that never happens.

𖣂 Rejection of Independence While Celeborn would still respect your autonomy in front of others, in private, he would chip away at your independence. He’d express his distaste for the world outside Lothlórien, painting it as dangerous and corrupt, convincing you that the only place you truly belong is with him. Slowly, he’d aim to reshape your entire identity, until you see yourself as part of him—inseparable, bound to his side for all eternity.

𖣂 Manipulating Your Affection Whenever you express affection for him, Celeborn would bask in it, but it would also feed his obsession. He would grow addicted to your love, becoming more desperate each time you return his feelings. He’d want more, wanting to feel the depth of your affection constantly, always ensuring that you are emotionally dependent on him. If you ever tried to pull away or express doubt, he would turn colder, his usually calm demeanor shifting to something more intense, his voice carrying an edge that would make you realize just how deeply he feels about you—his possession, his love, his everything.

𖣂 Celeborn’s loyalty to Lothlórien would extend to you, but in a way that traps you within its borders. He’d say, “Lothlórien is a safe haven, my love. A sanctuary where nothing can harm you, where you will never know pain or loss again.” But in truth, it would be his prison for you both, a gilded cage that he would never allow you to leave. The beauty of Lothlórien, its shimmering woods and tranquil waters, would mask the suffocating isolation that Celeborn would subject you to, all in the name of love. In this darker version of Celeborn, his feelings for you would run so deep that they twist into something darker and more possessive, wrapped in the guise of protection and eternal love.

𖣂 Celeborn’s touch would be both tender and intense, as if claiming you without words. His hands would gently stroke your wings, caressing the delicate membranes with reverence, though always with a possessive undertone. He’d often trace the intricate patterns on your wings, as if memorizing them, his fingers lingering a little too long, his gaze too intense. His touch would be careful yet possessive, making it clear that your wings—so unique and beautiful—are something he holds dear, and no one else should ever admire them the way he does.

𖣂 Shielding Your Wings As a fairy, your wings would be one of your most prized and vulnerable features. Celeborn’s protective instincts would kick into overdrive whenever he’s around you. He would make sure that your wings are shielded from harm, constantly positioning himself between you and potential dangers. In the privacy of Lothlórien, he’d insist on carrying you if you grow tired, gently lifting you in his arms so that your wings are never strained. He’d often delicately fold them around you, wrapping them in his own presence as a way to shelter you from the world outside.

𖣂 Jealousy Over Your Wings If anyone shows even the slightest interest in your wings, Celeborn’s protective nature would flare up. He’d subtly, but fiercely, position himself between you and the observer, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder, the touch a silent warning. “Your wings are for me to admire, my love,” he might whisper softly in your ear, making it clear that he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else appreciating their beauty. His obsession with your wings would be all-consuming, as if they were his to care for, to treasure, and no one else’s.

𖣂 When Celeborn gives you affection, it’s always with a degree of control. He would press kisses along the base of your wings, his lips brushing gently against the delicate points where they meet your back. He’d admire the way your wings flutter when he does so, his eyes softening, but there’s always an air of ownership in the way he holds you, as if you’re his to cherish and protect, and no one else’s. While his kisses would be gentle, there’s an underlying tension—a constant reminder that you belong to him, even in these intimate moments.

𖣂 Celeborn, with his love for the natural beauty of the world, would take great care in grooming your wings. He might sit behind you, brushing through the feathers with a careful hand, making sure they stay pristine and perfect, taking a personal interest in your comfort. He’d insist that only he should touch your wings in such an intimate way, brushing away any debris or imperfections that could mar their beauty. The act of grooming would be both a sign of his affection and his control over you—after all, no one else could ever care for your wings the way he does.

𖣂 Soft, Protective Restraints When Celeborn feels a surge of possessiveness, especially in private, he might hold your wings still with an almost imperceptible, yet firm grip, as if reminding you that they are his responsibility, his to keep safe. His hands would run along your wings in a manner that feels both possessive and affectionate—keeping you in place, but always in the gentlest of ways. He would often murmur words of love and protection as he holds you, his voice warm yet intense, reinforcing his belief that your wings, like you, are something precious he must shield.

𖣂 Long, Enveloping Hugs as Celeborn’s affection would manifest in long, enveloping embraces where his arms wrap around you fully, pulling you close to him. His chest would press against your back, and his hands would hover over your wings, gently cupping them to protect them as you lean into him. The closeness would be comforting, but there’s an ever-present feeling of being held too tightly. His love for you, though tender, would never let you go, and every time you try to pull away, his grip would tighten, though not out of malice, but from a need to keep you within his reach.

𖣂 His Own Personal World Celeborn would try to create a world where it’s just you and him, isolated from the distractions of the outside world. He’d make sure to keep your wings safe by building you a secluded sanctuary deep within Lothlórien, a hidden grove where only he could find you. In this space, your wings would be free to stretch and flutter without fear, but always under his watchful eye. He would be there to greet you with soft touches, brushing his fingers against your wings as if marking them as his own. Here, you’d be surrounded by his love—and his control—where you’d feel the weight of both.

𖣂 Celeborn would regard your wings as the most precious part of you, seeing them as symbols of your beauty and grace. When he gives you gifts, they would often be things that reflect the ethereal quality of your wings—silk scarves, fine threads, or precious stones that he’d delicately place on your wings. The idea of you wearing these gifts would please him immensely, and when he sees you wearing something he’s given you, it would feel like an extension of his affection for you, even though it would reinforce the idea that you belong to him.

𖣂 Celeborn’s protection of your wings would be symbolic of his larger desire to control every aspect of your life. When you venture outside Lothlórien, he would go to great lengths to ensure that your wings are always shielded—whether it be with a veil of magic or simply by positioning himself next to you to prevent any accidental harm. His obsession would make him insist on carrying you when you need to fly, always making sure that you’re never out of his sight. He would claim that it’s for your own safety, but deep down, you would begin to feel that it’s just one more way he is tying you to him.

ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ ၄၃ ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ꕤ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ꕤ

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overtaken-stream · 11 months ago

Text

Where On3 Will St4nd

King The Wildfire x F!Lunarian!Reader

100+ Followers Special!! I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE SUPPORT!! <3 (This was posted so late oml) This bad boy has been cooking in my drafts for close to a year and a half it feels like, it is very much burnt to a crisp. Thank you anon who asked me about King meeting another of his race! This would not be here without you <3

Also, sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

word count: 8.9k

Warnings: incorrect cultural description(?)/practices(?), Self-harm(Burns), Imprisonment, Timeline is a mess don't come at me.

( The Land of a Demon )

Onigashima is an intimidating island; the smell of ash penetrates every corner of the scene where a battlefield will unfold. There are no flowers to add color to the brown mud and grey rocks, no snowflakes to grace the island or land on the red mist. The only thriving presence is the skull, where the fire emanates—the lair of a wrongdoer rotting and resting in this sinful place.

The skull, or rather, the rock resembling a creature much like the one on Thriller Bark—Oars, to be exact—was its name. But even he, the Junior, paled in comparison to the Skull Dome. No human could have sculpted it; giants, maybe, but even then, there are doubts.

It was formidable for you to step into the den of a beast earlier than expected, where you would be alone and defenseless. The dreadful aura the place is emitting is fitting for an Emperor of the sea. The deeper you went, the lighter you felt, the fearsome and overwhelming feeling was replaced by the intimidating, and may I say, strict walls you can find in the Wano Kuni, or the Flower Capital to be more exact, the only thing Onigashima lacks is the malnourishment that comes with Shoguns' rule, the exhausted faces of workers, the food prices and the dirtied outskirts. The separation of morals between the Wano Kuni and Onigashima shows clearly in the environment, it's like stepping into a completely different world, detached by the innocent victims who got birthed in this tangle of knotted rope, a mess, a sculptor done masterfully by manipulators of different social hierarchies. It's an art piece that took lives. A work in progress.

Their happiness depends on us. The ones who took it in the first place. The pirates.

We are the only people who bleed flames and light up the shadowed space that is Wano.

Soon.

...Soon.

After the worrying incident of the crew splitting apart yet again to get Sanji back and despite your worries for the polite cook- you were among the majority who continued traveling toward Wano. The plan was for you to become a Geisha working alongside Robin to get selected by the Shogun, but at last, the paths split and here you were in the den of beasts.

There was little chance of concealing your true identity in Wano; the absence of hair dyes posed a challenge. However, with strategic tying, the Obi belt effectively concealed the main factors that could give you away. The uncomfortable sensation is so familiar that you've learned to master not showing the everlasting pain on your face. The lightened makeup applied by the elderly further masks your skin, with red lips complementing your Obi and velvety gloves. The black hue of your flower kimono, snug tightly to your legs, hinders your pace, restraining you from keeping up with other women who, despite being more nervous, are less experienced in the field of treachery. Tonight, it will be challenging to differentiate professionals from novices, and you vow to take advantage.

The occasionally beautiful scenery inside the castle fails to comfort you amidst the fast-beating hearts; it is unsettling. The empty halls, guided by one of Kaido's puppets, make everyone dizzy with the maze-like walls—plain, hard to remember its turns.

In what way did the he turn last time?

The candles dwindle in plain sight as the floor creaks, accommodating the heavy steps of someone on the other side of the hallway. The sound becomes more vivid as it picks up pace, running past your group from the other side of the wall, capturing the attention of a soldier who turns and continues guiding with an anxious face.

It's only when the others, approximately ten pairs of feet, follow suit that you realize the commotion beside the separation. Judging by the soldier's expression, it seems to be a normal occurrence. However, you do not halt your steps; you continue to motionlessly follow, much like a sheep. It turns out the other women have the same idea.

There's an Oni free of its cage.

Debris falls from the shaking ceiling onto your shoulders. You wipe the black fabric clean, huffing as you quicken your pace, gently pushing the ladies to make way. The man, with spiky brown hair, takes another turn to the right this time.

``Sir, how far are you going to make us walk? Do you want us to be gasping for breath when we entertain our customers?`` You ask in a monotone voice, the impatience underlines your words, while your facial expression is the same as the one you entered with.

The soldier angles his neck to look up at you before his expression turns sour.

Lazy sons of bitches are too tired to answer a simple question. Tsk.

Your eye twitches as you await his answer. Not minding the spooked expressions of the ladies.

``Just above this floor.``

You only take your eyes off of him when the dark wood stairs come into view. It's been twenty years since the Beast Pirates invaded Wano Kuni and the history of Onigashima, they left a mark that will be impossible to remove. The residue of red that has maintained its place on the stairs is proof of that, who knows how many more illicit and barbaric things this place... This Country has witnessed. Who knows how many more will be lost.

Yet, people ignore it for their safety, geisha act no differently, even if they feel the warmth of a body no longer on the bottom of their okobo, they don't look down. For their security. Though you seem to be unable to look up, whoever the unfortunate victim was, you wish them a peaceful afterlife.

You hold in what anger you have, clenching your fists onto the sides of your kimono. There will come a time for you to spill it.

Soon.

...Soon.

A dreadful feeling emanates within the group, snapping you out of your daydreams. You didn't mean to get lost in your head, but the moment you let the fabric loose, the double door opens, and the women hurry their way to spots alongside every wall, unhappiness settling in their guts. They put their knees onto the soft purple cushions. Your eyes travel over the shamisen lying beside the cushion you were supposed to rest on. The three-stringed instrument you pick up seems to be brand new—unused and unprepared. However, even as you fix the strings, you feel relieved. Kyo Mai is a slow dance with complicated steps, and your confined wings always disturb your enactment. You were supposed to play the instrument and stay hidden among the performers, even with your snow-white hair and height.

The door opens right after everybody picks up their fans, you hid away in the background with the shamisen now in the proper hold.

(Away from the intimidating aura the girls seem to be spooked of. They don't break under the pressure. They repeat what was practiced.)

Here they come.

The All-Stars.

( Eyes That Follow )

From the three goliaths that were sitting and having an exchange, you've decided that Queen was the worst out of all of them. His immense and twisted pride shows even during his interactions with the women currently swarming his sides, the sadism that chokes the air out of every woman doesn't reach the beasts.

He calls it... “Flirting” it's not obvious to the naked eye but the girls feel uncomfortable, even when they smile, you can tell. It's for survival they smile. It's for survival they nod their heads as Queen throws compliments at a woman who isn't here. Komurasaki.

You feel sorry for the girl, to have Queen captivated was horrifying. You hold hope that Komurasaki will never meet him in person, even as your eyes continue to wander over Queen, for he, even if the filthiest of the All-Stars, was the most social one. A star scientist. It's when Queen starts practicing his singing talent that one of them calls.

``Oi.``

You straighten up. From on top Jack, The Drought looks down at you.

``Could you start the music already?`` His unreacting eyes only leave your face when you answer with an apology. It was obvious he was trying to silence Queen.

As you pull the shamisen closer to your body, you can hear the blond's offended complaints soon be replaced by the excitement when he realizes the Geishas' standings.

``Well, aren't you a beauty with white hair of yours, musician? Though no one will beat my Komurasaki! That bastard Shogun! Such a shame.``

You aren't sure what he pulls out of his pocket—a paper of some kind? A picture. You thought maybe some information would leak out of their mouths, yet the only conversations you hear are Queen's complaints and praises towards the women. Lost in your own mind, studies continue to mix. Is Kaido awarding his men before the festival? It seems unlikely, but unfortunately, that might be the case.

As you begin the melody of "Crane Wedding," there isn't another noise except Queen's malicious giggles interrupting you. That is until the sounds of squeaking leather picks up in the trapped room. You fix your eyes on the instrument while somebody else's eyes drill into your face, past your cosmetics and the flawless kimono. They don't move from your face; in fact, you might even think they are staring past your soul. You can feel their eyes travel to your neck, covered by the geisha's makeup. They stare, and you don't dare to look up meet meet them.

The pleasant music of yours doesn't halt as a geisha brings in the food, throwing a quick and nervous glance your way, but soon she too turns towards one of the three men who called her, leaving you alone with that crushing stare. The time stretches along with the performance; the short melody now feels like a loop of endless tactics put together. Lovely notes turn into a disgusting mess of mud inside your mind, plugging your ears and forcing you to hear the way your heart speeds up, noticing his eyes cling onto the darker color not peeking from under the makeup. You're nervous, as are the dancing geisha, whose only audience is Queen at this point. It's soon when the second, heavy pair of eyes turn towards you, but this one is much quicker to leave you be.

That must have been Jack.

King. He's the one that continues to stare.

The corner of your lips twitches after the realization. You try to keep away from falling and dissecting below his gaze. It lasts even after the dance was finished, his red eyes hold you hostage for the most part, even when you get up and do what your teacher, a sweet old lady has taught you.

It's fear, not of him, but rather afraid of him finding out what no outsider should know.

It's doubt, he is doubting you. Suspecting you, yet he asks no question. He only stares you down like a predator when you finally meet his crimson eyes. Your (E/C) eyes reflect his fully leathered top half.

You aren't afraid of him, no you can't be, you've faced many opponents in your 25 years of living, and you've gone through the suffering even the strongest men cannot withstand.

You are a Straw hat.

You are part of a future Pirate Kings crew. You cannot be intimidated by a mere second in command. You hold your head up high.

It turns out to be the right action that causes him to back down slowly, surely you are let go from the muddy waters.

( Eye to Eye )

The sunrise began as Jack got up, and soon Queen followed him. After his callouts to King, who threw an audible shut-up in his way but did not move from the spot he was standing, Queen wasn't convinced until Jack bulldozed through the door opening and intentionally dragged Queen out of the way.

The poker face you've kept up so far slips when King calls every woman out of the room except you. You can feel Haki building its way through your veins, but you don't jump to conclusions, even as he gets closer to you with a towering height difference, his latex and bands stay unmelted when the fire on his back explodes, little sparks jumping towards you, who is by now trapped between the wall and the giant. You can feel the hot sparks on your clothing land and extinguish themselves, The conclusion is slow beneath his red eyes that are staring at you so angrily, any other emotion so hard to read beneath the mask that thoroughly covers every part of his body, the folded black wings are no exception.

Besides blocking your means of escape, he has yet to do anything physically, the temperature in the room rises with how fast the heat is produced on his back. The fire is so familiar you might even get lost in it, in the old times, when fewer shit stains were roaming the planet. It makes you sweat underneath all the tight clothes you're wearing, especially on your back where the wings have started to ruffle, trying to let some air into its layers to no avail.

You wish you had talent in observation haki to determine what he was going to do next.

You flinch when his right arm raises from where it slept beside his thighs, it slowly gets closer to your frozen form, even if you try to lean away, there is no point, you realize. You are tall, but as both of you stand beside each other, He towers over you, but his intention isn't to intimidate you. The instinct is your strong suit and your weakest point.

You can feel the leather wipe away at your excessive makeup, from your cheek to your platysma his hand travels with a heavy heart on its sleeve.

If King was anyone other than King, you would have slapped it away.

If only he didn't share traits you are so familiar with.

If only you didn't share traits he is so familiar with.

You can feel the cosmetics dragging and staining his gloves, wiping away half of your disguise easily, thanks to the heat, he keeps a note of your half-disguised face with calculating... Wide eyes. The other half of your face, one that stayed untouched, must be melting.

It's the shaky puffs of air released from his mask that gives him away, the sudden rise in temperature in an already hot room, it must almost be 40°C, yet he does not budge.

Is he relieved...? Enthusiastic much...?

Not a word is said when he takes his arm away, now covered in white. You can see the way the pupils shake, you are sure he can see yours too, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips of yours must be a giveaway.

The wings.

The eternal inferno.

A laugh escapes in the room-turned-oven, a nervous laugh of a feminine voice. You must be in shock to have fallen so low. Not even trying are you?

In a world that ought to hunt your kind down, to exterminate the past, the world that succeeded in destroying your kind, you don't feel alone. Or... You will no longer.

In the fervor, the mask comes off, leaving his sweat-covered face uncovered for you to see.

(``What tells that you are the only survivor?`` King used to ask himself back in his younger years before he made it clear how erroneous that question was, not to mention unlikely. It a proof of his childish innocence and the improvement. If more of his kind existed, they would be in the hands of the Government, doing god knows what to them. It always made the locked space of memories in his subconscious bubble up and boil over in quiet rages and liquor-companied nights. As he looks at your somewhat clean face, he is comforted by the pitiless thought that, by some luck, someone else managed to survive the hell he also went through. He wishes he could feel at ease, but he has to be sure. He has to eliminate every doubt in his mind.)

It's not out of intimacy and lust that he asks an inappropriate question to your calmed self about stripping. The surprised look in your eyes indicates a misunderstanding of his intentions. It's only mutual trust that guides him to do what he does next. Slowly but surely, he tries to pull his mask off, letting the tight piece tug at his scalp as he sets his hair free. Only when the temperature doesn't change, even when his skin feels the air, does he let the fire return to its original size.

King The Wildfire, only looks down at your complicated emotions. Even if he does not remember the company of his people, he would truly be a fool not to recognize his own biology. Though he doesn't hold onto hope, suspicion still lingers in his red eyes. It differs from your beaming laugh full of shallow happiness, representing more of a nervous tick than anything. It's been so long since he has heard a laugh not accompanied by sadistic undertones—exploiter gifters who dared to approach him—and the liquor Kaido keeps so close during his episodes.

``... I apologize for the heat."

You smile with somewhat shocked eyes looking up at him. ``...You know, it's been a while since I've felt the excitement of my kind.`` a nervous sigh you let out lead the conversation.

`` you don't have to apologize.``

``Yes... I-`` He has forgotten many unique reflexes with time. For this instance, it doesn't pains him. Every day he forgets what distinguishes the instincts of Lunarians, for he feels less of his kind.

He counts it as a sin, a shameful part of adulting, a side effect of having to live among the likes of Kaido's men, therefore his choice.

You acknowledge his position with his back turned to the door, sitting down cross-legged as he mentions for you to do the same. You obey, his wings hovering over you and hiding your figure from the outside world.

He asks once more to turn your back to him. You try to find any joke to fit in the thick air of nervous glances, but you find none. The unconscious mutual loyalty the both of you have towards one another is born by the shared traits, of family. Of shared pain.

You take the Obi belt in your hands and off of your waist.

He has many questions he cannot get out of his mouth, but for now, he keeps quiet. He is sure you have no intention of reliving the hell on earth that is the past.

You turn your back to a beast with the pattern of a face on its back.

As you take the black fabric of your kimono off, layer by layer the cold bites at your wet body, and the salty smell lets out into the heated air, though none of you care for the odor. You drop the kimono just below your belly button and let the relief that comes with letting your wings flex and take hold.

With a fast-beating heart, King watches.

It's in a haze that he reaches out to your back, his fingers connecting to the shoulders where the wings come from, sending a shiver down your sweat-covered spine, they're smaller he thinks, more fragile than him, though there is no difference in the power of flame and healing when it comes to genders. She could make them bigger when required. They aren't fragile, they are as powerful as his, but the size difference makes it easy to tickle his instincts, long forgotten and left in the past, starving for attention. His hands run over your coracoid, trying to find the place where the feathers meet the skin, attempting to find the evidence that you are real.

He barely hears your name, caught in the view of the wings turning from black to dark blue at different angles. Though he doesn't answer, he has already shown you enough of himself, it is no longer essential. King will do just fine.

The wings are erogenous, however, even if you shiver under the sensitive touches, no lust taints the special moment between the survivors.

``(Y/N).`` you spell out your name.

By instinct, his fire becomes ablaze when his hand sneaks up your humerus, lingering touches ruffling your feathers as the fire licks at your ungroomed wing. It lights the reflective white strands of hair that escaped from Geiko Shimada. The warmth on your back is comforting to the point where you lean your wings into it. Finally, you light the eternal flame, his hand engulfed in your flames goes undamaged. It extracts and attracts the fire from his hand into the center of your spine, causing the fire to grow and spread onto your wing feathers.

Looking back you're met with what you would call, a confused face of King whose features have been caught in the yellow glow of a fire that you are able to control.

King only stares at your almost nude form with a wrinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

( Guard )

In the way King shelters you, with him beside you and you hidden in the massive wing as he walks into his chambers, you would be wrong if you said you aren't anxious. Happy but skeptical. You doubt he'll hurt you, but the mask locking away his facial structures works as an intimidation factor.

The click of a lock on his door is the only sound that disturbs the silence. Now you are in his territory, his nest.

``King?`` you turn around to look at him.

``Where did you come from.`` It's scary how quickly and unnoticeably he changes his mood. But it is probably because the enthusiasm has passed and questions have started to surface, what you thought to be a nice welcome, turns into icy bars locking you out of your getaway, just like earlier. His red eyes leave a permanent mark on your (E/C) ones.

Where did you come from. that's not a question. Questions don't make you feel as if the warmth has left your body and sent shivers down your spine. They don't drag you down the lone caves and lock up your respiratory system.

Questions aren't meant to stop time. But the way both of you aren't moving, they might as well.

You have to be careful with every word and syllable you mutter. ``I've come fro-``

``How are you alive.``

``I-``

You barely have time to finish your answers before he's asking another one, slowly he steps toward you. In the dark, his leather shines, but as you take another step back you cannot help but glance at his wings. How the moonlight seems to bend with each curve of his feathers, sinking into the crevices and lightening them up in a blue hue, similar to you, but unlike the yellow glow, King's replaced by the white. You can't help but be deprived.

There is only one sentence that is louder than the rumble coming from within him. The declaration you acknowledge within all the noise clogging your ears.

You don't feel the suffocation of this situation, nor do you hear King's voice anymore. The pressure (Despite the windows being open) comes from the claustrophobic chamber. Your wings stay close to your back. The masked face looks down on your kimono, his pupils have seemed to freeze on your form, and the angry aura that he emits is all but a facade of defense. His jaw is moving but all you can hear is a rumble that pours out deep from his chest, it's incredibly loud yet deaf to the ears of normal humans, the volume that should shake walls only quiver your brain.

The moonlight seems to cage you in, showing your footsteps to a starved predator, it's the devil's eye that replaces the moon, with red pupils that stare you down. He overshadows your form, sending warnings throughout your system-

The possessiveness only sends shivers down your spine.

(Fight or flight?)

From somewhere far away, a boy with a straw hat on his face lifts his head from where it's laying in a hammock, letting the yellow straws that are incapable of being split slowly drop onto his bandaged chest. The rough feel of the same material wraps around his forehead trapping a few black strands of hair with it.

He grumbles, the ache in his limbs starting to become much more obvious, with half-lidded eyes Luffy looks up from the opening of the hammock, letting his head peek over at the sleeping skeleton currently knocked out in the same way Luffy was supposed to be.

Something's happening.

He is sure of it, but with grogginess biting away his consciousness, he has no energy left to chase after that feeling, he turns his stiff body the other way, peeking from the left he comes face to face with the man who is a family member in all but blood, who he got back just a few hours ago.

He smiles and lies back down, from the position he is in, a window the size of his head stays open, it shows the moon and the stars twinkling their way into existence.

He wonders what others must be up to, are they watching the moon with him? Basking in its glow like a tiger?

He hates that he has to keep them waiting, but it was necessary.

Soon.

...Soon he'll be there.

Wait for him... A little more!-

( Domain )

There's something cataclysmic lurking in the walls of his chambers, causing your ears to bleed. The shackles rattle loudly next to your helix as you scratch at your ear, only making the headache worse. The heavy pull of sea stone brings down your mood. Rough exterior already leaving its mark on your hands

The mirror rests across the bed, compelling the disheveled mess of yourself to face the view. Hair strands fall on the sides of your face, greasy with gel, and your face—oh God, your face—appears smudged, as if the color is melting away. The swollen eyes that signal a newly awakened person squint to see your reflection.

The clothes are still on your body despite being passed out on the enormous bed of a murderer, a killer, and a tyrant's sidekick last night. Another ridiculous error to add to the imaginary board.

Back when King unleashed the color of the Supreme King on your cornered self you didn't dare fight back, and the shackles were here in the form of consequence to your conclusion.

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the window next to the mirror. The bars on the outside really make you feel at home. The decor set a scene suggesting no man had ever lived there. Occasional scratches marked the floor, and the specially modified bed, along with what you could only guess was a closet, were all tailored to fit his taste. Gothic undertones and a taste reminiscent of some old king's private quarters defined his preferences. You could barely discern the detailing on the bed and the strangely designed closet colored in black and gold. The dominating dark blue swallowed any light that entered the room, and there was a door to your left, likely leading to the bathroom.

The quiet morning was disturbed by the entrance of King, he stands in front of the same door you remember entering last night.

You feel quite disgusted.

``I didn't expect you to be awake.`` For a moment before you passed out, you didn't either.

The uneasy eyes meet kings' as time stills. Dragging out the undesirable connection. It only serves to tug your heart down to your gut. The happy moment, the relief and sorrow for the past nothing but a distant memory in the dark shadows of a realm not your own.

He moves closer to your bed, hands dropping what seems to be extra clothes near your feet. The man doesn't flinch as you push your legs closer to your torso and away from him. The rejection is disregarded.

``You should change.`` Carefully you nod your head.

``The bathroom is over there.``His stern voice shakes the weak walls of your mind as he turns his back on you before walking over to the entrance.

You can't help but let out a shaky breath as the door is locked and you're left alone with thoughts you can not connect no matter how hard you try, it only serves to make tremors run up your spine and into your fingertips, it's a dread invading a carefully maintained flesh you tried to protect with the hands of a child once. The deep noise your restraints produce was nothing but a ghost of your past just a couple of days ago. The weight on your wrists burns. The crackle is deafening and bone-shaking. There's no one else to hear you.

``... I need...`` Time to think, to process. Your lips shiver.

The soft white walls are nothing but an illusion. You wonder if the blue-colored room of a beast is a delusion.

The eyes and the goggles flash before you, white coats accompanied by bloodlust run over your thoughts.

Breathe.

You push your knees off of the bed, sweat traveling down your face, the cold is in no way a comfort.

The warm water is what tempts you to tread the wooden floor.

( Lone Wolf )

The water is hot against your skin as the shower head lets the boiling droplets escape freely from the metal, and steam coats the world in the lightest tints. King brings the ache you've long forgotten existed ever since the smile of a boy with the straw hat lit your life full of shadow. You wish you could be happy in the burning downpour, you deserve it, however, the inferno on your back heals the drawbacks, leaving no trace of your accomplishments which took more than a couple of burns to earn.

And you wonder what have you done to earn this.

The happiness of no longer carrying the guilt was relieving, even if it lasted for a couple of minutes.

As a little lady you would wish for a knight to come and take you away to the land of dreams, make the walls just a bit more colorful and alive in the world that burns dreams. The warm hands would he have, the soft look and the shine in his eyes, the wings on his back, and the fire that would put the sun to shame with its flames. The honey on his lips and the daisies in your hair.

The desires were harmless, they gave you hope, something a human would have.

(You can still taste the metal. You can feel the debris fall and you hear their landing making the ground of pure white shake.

Your instincts would only let you run. Would only make you avoid the black broken bricks covered in glitter. Shining green from the light and smoke.

You have no idea what exploded. You won't want to know.

That night, the girl left that place and its guards to be doomed into oblivion.

That night, a knight was left without his princess.)

The sizzling sound you feel is draining you of the energy you might need, it's a waste yet the fire on your back regenerates the lost skin again, again and again. Until you give in and stop the shower, only for the shackles to be felt around your hands. Your wings are open, fully on display.

Sensing the burns in your bones, you wonder what would have happened if you were more close to the explosion of the past, wonder if it would have been better as the water droplets fall from your wet face.

It's fairer than facing the reality that complicates the fragile string of truths once again.

Hands clenched into fists and fire growing ever hotter on your back, you wonder if you are patient enough for this, no longer does a little girl await for saving. She doesn't need to anymore. Someone else might.

It brings up a question. Can you be the light needed for one's darkest times?

You walk out of the shower with a hot back and bloody palms, the fire burns brightly above the feathers. You can only hope to fuel it forever. You keep the wings close, your captor closer.

No longer will you be truly alone.

( Purity )

If there's one thing you've learned as a child, it's that they aim for the stars, with no plan in mind and ambition in their belly, only a brave few truly make it into the sky and those who could not are left with clipped wings and broken dreams. Fragile to the point they crash onto the soil and shatter, never to be put together again.

It makes you proud that your captain never crashed down, that his wings were never clipped, you're sure that the thoughtlessness was enough to boost him to reach beyond the stars.

Before, you wondered if you were able to grab onto the lights that looked down on you during the night. Now you live to see it come true.

However, where you succeeded some failed.

And so King came crashing down with the one who put his wings back together, feather by feather, vigorous and more dreadful than ever.

He split the skies until it cried.

You refuse to allow him to recite Kaidou's doing to you. Day after day in the dark and cold chamber, your fire brightens the dark and continuously burns on your back, never once diminishing.

Nobody is allowed that pleasure.

( Prison )

Getting used to a closed environment comes naturally, as much as you hate to admit it. The dim walls are a new addition to your view, which is no longer full of white coats and a bright enclosure. The heavy shackles are much harder to familiarize with.

In a cold chamber time moves fast.

Your only interaction with the outside world is King, dark and broody, full of confidence and gentleness, he treats you as if you're fragility itself. You won't beg for a way out, you never did, humiliation over naught is an intense feeling to swallow. He's careful with his words, careful in the way he acts and reconnects with his instincts right by your side.

Day after day his visits keep a consistent schedule, with two plates of food and loneliness in his belly he strives to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with you, speaking only a few words of insight. There's fire on your back yet, it does nothing to protect you from the coldness he brings. Wings stay close to your back, never truly opening in the cage. The words he says don't carry the weight of a man born for death.

One wants to lower your walls while shackling you with his, to the point that the invisible distance strains you, he is full of drought and he craves to end the famine.

Time passes and the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the heavier its weight on your shoulders grows. You destruct yourself for a question you're not ready to hear the answer to. The pressure leads to an opening to form.

It's said in an outlandish way, heart swelling with numbness and hate tingling your fingers. Your eyes stare onward, beyond the figure meeting them.

``What are you achieving?`` Why have you caged me? Weren't you in my position once upon a time?

It stops him dead in the tracks. His eyes don't widen yet his mouth does in a way that seems robotic. The air stills, only the noise of crackling fire could be heard, heavy and rich with the enigma the man was created to be.

Why did you choose kaidou?

You want to ask.

``...Nothing. I achieve nothing.`` you ignore the strict undertone and drink the tea he brought not too long ago. It conceals the wary gulp.

``I would never have taken you for a liar.`` An intense sound is created as he slices the distance between you two with his flight, black wings ajar. a sharp feather rests near your throat. You have to be attentive. Careful to not snap the thick rope that holds his pieces together.

Blood seeps out of the cut.

``Why do you wish for death?``

``You could have murdered me the night we met.`` It's too late for your soul to perish. His reasoning for keeping you alive is clear to you.

His hand, clenching the root of a dangerously pointed feather shakes with the conflicted emotion.

Your back lights and the cut is healed.

He cannot do it, not to his kind. With a quiet grunt, King backs off to leave the chamber, his feather crumbled and abandoned on the cold wood.

Every night is spent alone on a bed made for your kind, it's just that this night feels full of plain dismay and sorrow.

The past does not visit tonight.

( The Other Side )

Your words penetrate him, though he doesn't indicate. The conversation is buried in the depths of ash, fire blooms inside of him, it rages and burns, and wherever he steps the smoke trails after him.

``Haven't you walked the same path?``

His subordinates are seated around a large table, smiles and crevices on their face.

``Do you not know darkness?``

He does. He is intimate with it.

``The hopelessness of being someones plaything?``

He can feel the heat of the past catching up to him, engulfing him in the ball of flame and strapping him on a table. He knows how it feels to be burned to oblivion, the only peace he has known. Words of madness leave his lips, everyone, including himself knows that it's empty threats, for he stands on the other side of the glass. Nothing but a guinea pig

``I know that you know it too. We walked the same path.``

He would have grabbed anyone's hand if only they reached out. It just so happened that he grabbed someone who could change the world, for the better or for worse.

He looks at the barren wasteland of Onigashima.

Was it truly a choice when your options were between freedom and its absence?

He finds that time flies swiftly when sailing. It halts when on the land.

(He has never belonged to either.)

``Why do you recite history?``

He comes to a conclusion, one of selfishness and fear. Clenched fist heats up, he does not pay attention to the rising temperature.

He craves his kind. The hopelessness is the reason he captured you.

His teeth grind against one another. He isn't on the level of humans, his superior biology won't let him stoop that low, but he finds that mentally, he and them are cut from the same cloth. Other's consequences directed him to repeat what he feared.

The thought has long since passed.

King finds it hard to care about them.

But you are entirely foreign. He can taste the smoke of Punk Hazard.

You try again and again. Lightly scratching at the metaphorical walls of him until your hands grab his heart softly, ripping the veins and staining your hands with his blood.

Your mouth only forages for the food King fetches. He wonders about you and the possibilities of it all until the voice he has gotten used to brings him back to earth, you do nothing to cushion his fall, only stalling his drop with words he feels entirely uncomfortable to understand. For the reason that he had no one to share it with.

``There's a saying about them`` You say, looking oblivious with the plate resting on your knees, mouth cooling down the food.

``A man is wolf to man.`` He gets it, King is sure he will hear your voice saying it whenever the existence of The Celestials get brought up.

``I'm glad you aren't one.``

For a moment King thinks about the blood he spilled, the curses his shoulders withstand and the beginning of it all, the things he has seen himself do, and replies.

``I could say the same.``

You can see his face, swatted with shadows even without the mask, crack, and the hidden comfort dawns on his face.

The soup in your hands is warm like the sunlight, the mask he gripped whenever entering the room rests on the bed, no longer present in his claws.

A path reveals itself to the two of you.

(There's a flower that blooms only in cold surroundings, It feeds from the ground and awaits the warmth of the sun, from the grey clouds and falling snow, the light peeks through.)

( No Regrets )

Through the window, you can smell the madness in the air, it's evident in the way King comes in while the walls around you shake with the rhythms of Queen's performance.

Your heart follows along with the melody without your consent. After all, there is not much to do with the man that you have come to accept. The walls are nothing against the booming voice of a man too loud and apathetic. But within the confines of the castle, the tense atmosphere can be felt with the help of King. Every step he takes and grunt that follows brings forth his thoughts and instincts, there's something in the air. Teetering on the edges of your mind.

The Lunarian gets closer to you, finally reaching down to your level. For minutes he stares at you, taking in your features as if you'd disappear. The leather flexes as his left-hand holds your wrist.

The red eyes don't move away. Neither do yours.

The metal spikes on his mask gleam. His eyes tell a story as his head drops down, gloved fingers sliding over the rough material of your cuffs.

Time is ticking, and you are waiting for him to succumb to temptation and finally make a move for both's sake.

King's face tilts up with a heavy sigh in tow to look at you, only for a soft smile to greet him. The cuffs are warm around your skin and cold to the room.

After all, the sun speaks of your captain's arrival.

It doesn't take many days for King to return with the key in between his fingers and no fire on his back. Your smile greets his eyes, and the knowing grin settles on your dark skin, yet the maliciousness is nowhere to be found between your lips.

Ever since his release, King has never felt at peace, perhaps he can only close the distance.

(A glimpse of sunlight was all the flower needed to rise from the frozen land.)

The heavy cuffs harshly meet the floor.

( Reunion )

The smoke is filling your lungs, the familiarity making your heart clench and bring forth a cough. The walls are stained with blood, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you let the sounds of battle lead your wings; feeling the air make way for you is a sensation missed. The chunks of limbs and lifeless bodies are nothing but a blur in your vision. The battle has long begun, and your release from the King's chamber is far too late.

A cunning smile flashes in your mind, long black hair, and rosy cheeks decorate the memory.

``Better late than never.`` Her composed voice would say, accompanied by her icy and all-knowing stare.

Suddenly, a blue light shines through the castle wall ahead, accompanied by the noise of a gigantic object impacting from the other side. With a single flap of your wings, you pick up speed, aiming to breach the barrier. Your tough feathers shield your body as you slam into and shatter the wall's material. Unscathed, your eyes adjust to the bright figure standing on your left, emanating a stunning light that brings life to its surroundings, leaving your eyes wide. You notice a trail of smoke to your right.

You get a better look at him as the surroundings clear up.

``S-Sanji?!`` You feel quite happy to know that his issue has been resolved, judging from the way his face brightens and stands on the ground of Wano's borders. Although he always lights up near the opposite sex.

``(Y/N)-Chan?!`` His matted blond hair is a detail you only notice with the advanced eyesight your kind seems to possess. The bloody lip and his bruised forehead made him quite a sight. Although the swelling is nowhere to be seen.

You can try to make the words of delight resurface in your mouth, it's always nice to let others know of your feelings, though sometimes it sure gets hard to pull them out from the bottom of your heart.

``I'm glad to see you here!`` it lets the burden on your shoulders lighten.

Sanji responds the way you except him to.

``(Y/N)-Chwaaan!!~♡ It's been so long since I last saw you!`` No longer able to contain the love in his body, the hearts burst from his very soul. Happiness fuels his wiggly movements. ``Oh, how I missed you!~``

A large smile stretches your lips, dry as a desert. ``It's nice to have you back!-``

You could have said more, but the time has already run out.

There's water leaking from the floor above, a loud shriek is heard and your back is met with a cold, menacing look from who seems to be Sanji's opponent.

The reflexes kick in, sinking into your veins, moving you out of the threat of a mechanism falling on top of you.

You'r gaze falls on the Beast. His eyes meet yours.

There's a glimmer of familiarity in his eye.

``Out of the way!`` Sanji's yell warns before the foe swings his oversized arms once more.

The amount of force needed for your wings to fly backward is more than necessary, though the opponent's swings seem to be getting swift at every dodge, the heat produced on your back strengthens your arms and then fists, and you look for an opening to get one hit in, but for a second you can see the furious blue eyes tell you his whole story, the desperation of a man becoming more clear to recognize...

You decide that this is not your battle... The heat is diminished.

( A Change )

The short encounter with the cook was not for naught, his instructions led you directed to a stadium full of warriors ready to risk their lives for a nation that has only its history to live for.

Within enemies, there are familiar faces mixed in, who are also fighting alongside you. With Kaido fighting Luffy and Sanji taking on Queen, it's only logical to assume that the first mate would go for the top of the food chain.

There's so much to do, yet the responsibility does not intimidate your kind.

You're left to protect the survivors of a war already won.

The aftermath was nothing more than a reunion for your crew.

( Hello )

The victory comes and brings midnight with it, cheers and smiles bloom on the warriors' faces as you breathe heavily, and everyone starts to tend to their wounds, burns and deep slashes are nothing compared to what they've achieved. Pirate crews are no exception, they rest and gain the energy they'll need for the morning, until then it seems that you're the only one with stamina left.

The fire on your back grows small until it vanishes completely.

Of course, after Kiado's defeat, warriors took advantage of the weakened Beast Pirates and imprisoned those who could still stand, albeit their dreams were and still are drowning in pieces far too small to see or collect. It's evident that they hold no hope for the future.

But there's a link connecting you to one of them.

You walk near the exit door, watching as men talk among each other and discuss their next step, whatever that may be. Your semblance to that man does not get mentioned by anyone after all, they have not seen his face, but the single glance from Zoro as he stayed awake for 5 seconds is enough for you to tense up, you wonder when it will be brought up. Zoro might have fallen asleep but your heart stayed heavy next to him.

It's a dangerous idea you have, suspicious even, though they must understand, Luffy's intelligence, Nami's smile, Robins's knowledge, Usopp's understanding nature, Chopper's innocent outlook, Franky's family ties, Brook's dedication, Sanji's acceptance, and Zoro's strict attitude. If a word got out, you'd have to face your friends, have to rip a bandaid off of an old wound and hold in a cry. You just have to wonder when?

Yet you still head towards the Udon Prison, consequences last in your mind, the night sky looks down upon you, the stars begging you to go back, however the dark clouds hide them away.

The night air feels nice on your skin, even as you stand above the walls keeping in the Beasts. You can tell that no one is awake, exhaustion haunts the air as you leap down on the dry ground. Mad Scientist Queen is lying face down, covered in bandages that soil the dirt underneath him red, you're glad that his snores are loud enough to hide your wings' shuffling.

The sudden chill runs up your spine and alerts your senses, face tilting sideways, you look at a disheveled man standing over you from behind.

``Hello again, King.`` He thinks of your eyes and how beautiful they look under the moonlight. Your beauty would put Luna to shame.

Your greeting is dismissed.

``Why are you here?`` His dry mouth can barely open to question you.

``To see you of course.`` This time he keeps his mouth shut. Yet his eyes observe your appearance, the dirt, and blood that soaks your Kimono.

To see him after a loss, in a state such as this is a crime that would be punished by death. You're the only exception to the rule that didn't exist yesterday.

``Let's take a seat.`` He hasn't even noticed you move into the center of the prison, too busy trying to keep all the blood inside his body to not flat-line. The bandages are not doing much, and the fire he used in his battle has extinguished itself. All his strength was used up and you wish to see him in this state? There are no words left for him to speak, so he takes the seat next to you. His knee touches yours, the intimacy is foreign.

``This calls for a celebration, don't you think? I grabbed us some booze.``

The liquor bottle nudges him and he takes it with no complaints. The reasoning for others' celebration is obvious, dethroning an emperor is a big feat for anybody.

``After all, a God has awakened.`` King knows.

His eyelids are closed yet he can see the vague silhouette of JoyBoy, the godly form only brings bitterness to his tongue, so he tries to drown it with the smoky taste of beer, which accomplishes little.

``I was mistaken.`` with Kaidou. Regret fills him.

He isn't angry at his loss as much as he is irritated.

``You were.`` The moonlight shines down on both of you. The silence is deafening, nothing but your heartbeats are heard.

``I was saved by that man.`` His head looks up at you, and each of his limbs freezes at the implication. The misery and hopelessness engulf the surroundings. He thinks about nothing except the straw hat with a red ribbon.

``I see... So you're apart of his family?``

``I am.`` the soft look in your eyes makes him envy you.

``...Are you happy?`` He doesn't know what he will do if you respond negatively. King already imprisoned you, took your independence, and chained you to him, yet you didn't burn out, How will he treat you?

``I am, were you not?`` with Kaidou? He doesn't have a straight answer, so he only responds with silence. This was a question he thinks you know the answer to.

It isn't until your hand grabs his cheeks that he opens his eyes in surprise, also realizing he closed them.

``What is that look?`` The strict tone in your voice is nostalgic. He tries to direct the conversation elsewhere, however his mind is flooded with the feeling of your warm hand on his face.

``The marines will come.``

``They'll come for you too, you know.`` You respond with the warning, the Navy isn't known for mercy after all, they'll go after the cause too.

``I don't want that... I don't... I don't want to be alone.`` You add, sheepish of your request, is it too much to ask? You have friends who you consider as family, but King is... Different.

King also does not want to be the sole survivor of his race, he has carried that burden for long enough and now that he had a taste of his people, he wishes to not go back.

``You won't be.`` It's the only promise he'll keep, for your sake and his.

For this, he will have to leave the prison.

``Stay alive for me.`` You beg and he complies.

It all starts with your wing enveloping his form, the soft heat from your contact, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his cheek.

( See You Later )

It ends with a promise and an escape into the night.

With you in the company of your friends on the Thousand Sunny.

And with him on top of a waterfall, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as he holds the leftover newspaper, the ship descends down the mountain and leaps into the ocean next to the koi fish.

He finds your smile now meters away, he gazes with a newfound meaning to his life.

#one piece #anime #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the wildfire x reader #one piece x reader #one piece spoilers #wano arc #wano spoilers #wano kuni #one piece wano #beast pirates #.my writing.

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bucketchevy · 3 months ago

Text

König - Single father

Pairings: singlefather!König x fem!reader (she/her) -> only brief mention of Ms

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: Brief mention of bullying

Summary: König, a recently divorced single father, takes his daughter to her first day of school, where he meets her new teacher.

Word count: 1078 words

A/N: Likes and reblogs are welcomed! Copying and reposts are not! My posts are only avaible on Tumblr!

Credits: Thanks to @anitalenia for both dividers :)

"All set, Ellie?" König asked, checking the contents of his daugther backpack one last time. It was her first day of school and he wanted to make sure she had everything she needed. "Yep!" She answered with a bright smile, that warmed Königs heart.

König smiled back at her, her enthusiasm easing some of the tension he felt. "Good," he said softly. "Let's get going then." He took her hand as they stepped out of the car. Ellie skipped along beside him, her exitement contagious.

As they walked toward the school entrance, König couldnt't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He remembered his own first day of school, but his memories weren't nearly as joyful. Back then, he'd been nervous, unsure and overwhelmed by the other kids. But Ellie—she was different. Confident. Bright. He hoped her experience would be nothing like his.

They passed through the busy halls, filled with parents and children. König kept a steady hand on Ellie, guiding her through the crowd. He could feel the familiar dicomfort rising in his chest—too many people, too much noise—but he pushed it down.

His ex-wife used to handle these things, but after their recent divorce, it was now his job.

Ellie tugged on his hand, bringing him out of his thoughts. "Come on, Papa! We have to find my class!" she urged, her eyes wide with exitement.

König chuckled softly, "Alright, alright. Let's not keep your teacher waiting." He scanned the hallways, searching for the right room number.

Finally, they reached the classroom door. König paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He pushed the door open, revealing a room full of children already settling in—some smiling and chatting, others clinging to their parents with nervous tears in their eyes.

Ellie squeezed his hand, her exitement wavering just a bit as she took in the new enviroment. König crouched down beside her, looking her in the eyes. "You're going to do great, Ellie. I know it. I'll be right here when school's over, okay?"

Ellie nodded, her bright smile returning. "Okay, Papa."

König stood back up, glancing over at you, who was busy organizing supplies at your desk. You noticed them and walked over with a warm smile. "You must be Ellen! And you must be Mr. Brunner," you greeted, offering a friendly hand.

König shook your hand, nodding his head in a polite manner. "Yes, that's right. I'm König Brunner and this is Ellie."

You knelt down to Ellie's level, your smile warm and reassuring. "Hi, Ellen! I'm Ms. y/n and I'll be your teacher this year. I've been so exited to meet you and all your new classmates."

Ellie beamed back at her, her earlier nervousness fading. "Hi, Ms. y/n!" She said with her typical, sweet voice.

You chuckled softly and stood back up, turning to König. "It's great to meet you two. If you ever need anything or have any questions, feel free to reach out."

König smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

Then you pointed to the cubbies lining the wall. "Ellen, why don't you find your cubby and you can put your backpack there? After that, you can join the other kids on the rug and in a few minutes we'll start our morning routine."

Ellie eagerly nodded and hurried over to find her name on the cubbies. König watched her, feeling a surge of pride as she integrated seamlessly into the classroom environment.

König watched Ellie as she found her cubby, his heart swelling with pride at how quickly she was adapting. She was so brave, so full of life—everything he wished he'd been at her age.

Ellie walked back to him, her eyes shining with exitement. "Papa, I'm all set!" she called out, bouncing on her toes.

König crouched down to meet her at eye level once more. "I see that," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You're going to have an amazing day, my little Zuckermäusschen." He used the nickname with a gentle grin.

Ellie giggled at the sound of it, her cheeks flushing with happiness. "Bye, Papa!" I'll see you after school!" she said, giving him a tight hug.

König hugged her back, holding on for just a moment longer than usual. "I'll be right here, when you're done," he whispered, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.

Ellie pulled back, her face glowing with excitement. "I love you, Papa!"

"I love you too, Zuckermäusschen," König said softly as he stood up.

With one last smile and a wave, Ellie turned to join her classmates, fitting right in as she sat down on the rug.

König felt a pang in his chest. His little girl was growing up, taking her first big step toward independence.

He shifted his focus back to you, who was now returning to your desk, chatting briefly with another parent before refocusing on the kids. There was something about you that caught his attention—maybe it was the way you interacted with the children, so warm and approachable. You excuded a calm confidence that put him at ease.

König found himself lingering near the classroom door, unsure why he wasn't ready to leave just yet. His eyes followed you, as you moved around the room, your energy fucused, yet kind. You seemed patient but firm, the kind of teacher who really cared. There was a gentleness in the way you spoke to the kids. He could tell his little girl would be in good hands.

He shifted awkwardly, feeling out of place and a bit uncertain of his own reaction. It wasn't often he found himself noticing someone like this, especially after his divorce.

Before he could dwell on it too long, you caugth his eye again. You gave him a friendly nod, as if sensing his hesitaion to leave. He cleared his throat, realizing he'd been standing there longer than necessary-

"Well," he began, forcing himself to step closer to the door, "I should probably head out. Thank you again."

You smiled, your eyes warm and understanding. "No problem, Mr. Brunner. I'm sure Ellen's going to have a great year."

König nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else—something lighter. "Yeah... I hope so."

With one last glance at Ellie, who was now engaged with her classmates, König finally turned to leave.

#könig #cod #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #konig #call of duty

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emsgwenstan · 8 months ago

Text

Knowing what goes unsaid

(Larissa Weems x fem reader). Angst

Words: 2k? Idk

Warnings: alcohol.

Notes: I haven’t been writing much, I know this isn’t great but I need to post something. Hardly edited so apologies In advance.

She knows. She knows how I feel. She can see it in the way I look at her, the way I gaze at her. She knows that my body magnetises to hers, she knows that the reason I’m always taking off my coat around her isn’t because I’m simply ‘hot’, it’s because of the blush, the constant undeniable blush that kisses my cheeks, gives me away every time I’m in her presence.

She can see it in the way I admire her, constantly, always complimenting her style, her hair, her make up, her nails, her jewellery, her clothes, her perfume, her shoes, all the things I can on the outside, but I wish she could see all the things I see on the inside, her personality, her mind, her sweetness, her stubbornness, her love, her kindness, her wit, her drive and protectiveness, but how do I say say that and not sound like a total freak?

She can be standing on a podium and have everyone whipped, completely in awe of her, wrapped around her little finger…well, she definitely has the effect on me. She can do anything, or perhaps nothing at all and I will still find her the most interesting and important person in a room, sitting in the weathervane just minding her own business, walking in the sunshine every afternoon at 4:30pm on the dot, even if it’s raining or gloomy out she still manages to be outdoors even if it’s only for a short while. I adore her, all of her, every little thing, but I’m not as daft to believe she feels the same.

The first time I realised, the very first moment I came to the conclusion that I didn’t just care for her as a friend, was when I found her at the lake one night, completely wasted, completely exhausted and completely out of it. I didn’t even utter a word, nor did I question the reason of her state, I simply took her cheeks in my palms and stared into her drunken, dazed, piercing, blue eyes, even then as a mess she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I took her hand in mine, feeling the softness of her touch, feeling her warmth radiating into my own skin. I guided her back to her office, cleaning up a broken glass and disposing of the empty bottles of wine. She stood still as if she would break if she moved, even just a little, tears were threatening to spill from swollen eyes down cold flushed cheeks.

As I returned to her, I grasped the thick cream coat draped over her shoulders and pulled it off, lightly tossing it onto the back of a nearby chair. Stood deadly quiet in front of her, the air of the room was filled with rather loud emotions, her breathing was shallow yet sharp, controlled but unsober. She was tired, she was sad and she was lonely, I reached for her earrings and I unclasped them relieving her of the tension, as well as her necklace, bracelet and watch, cupping the back of her hand I raised it to the space between us and put the jewellery in her palm, a silent plea for her to turn in and go to bed.

As I took the step towards the door, she reached out and stoped me, my wrist was held in a tight grip, that in itself was a plea on her behalf. I saw in her face what she wanted, the expression I will never forget. ‘Please don’t leave’. Is what she conveyed, letting a tear roll down her porcelain skin, stepping back I raised my hand to her face wipped it away, I told her with my own eyes ‘I can’t, I can’t because I won’t leave’. She let go and watched as I walked away.

I wanted to stay, I wanted to show her I’m here, I’ve always been here, but alas my heart couldn’t handle the overwhelming feeling that I can’t have her. Days, weeks, months passed without a single word of that night, but we knew, each and every moment we saw each other from that day it was different, a new understanding, a new appreciation, a safe atmosphere, a distant longing. I know she knows. She can see it in the way I try to avoid her, she can see it in the way I’m softly spoken when addressing her in an almost timid manner.

Next was the rave’in, it was the first time I had ever been so affected by someone’s beauty, as a chaperone I didn’t think I would find much personal enjoyment out of the night, yet when she walked through the doors adorning a slim red dress and elbow length gloves I could have sworn that my heart skipped a beat, I could feel my chest aching, I could feel my soul reaching for her. She looked at me once that whole night, her superficial smile faded and cheeks tinged with a pink hue, I almost missed it due to the low lighting of the hall and once again no words were uttered out loud, but I could tell what she was feeling, I felt it too.

More weeks passed and time slowed, each day dragging on longer taunting me with the fact that my days mean nothing, my mornings, my afternoons, my nights, my lonely, quiet nights. Time knew to, it knew that I yearned for her, it knew that I knew she was also lonely and longing, not necessarily for me, but for someone…anyone. It seems that the lord of dreaming knew too, my restless nights only consisted of her, turns out the waking world is just reality, not dreams, because if they were I’d be awaking to the smell of hot tea and the sweet aroma of her silver spun hair, I’d roll over in silk sheets to find a beautifully bound book held in slender hands with red fingernails carefully spreading the pages open and a woman who was carved from marble blissfully unaware of my drowsy smile.

She is beautiful, she is blithe, she is grace and she is the epitome of all things breathtaking, I don’t just mean the exterior, the facade of professionalism, the mask, I see her, I see her as she is, as she always has been. Today is when she let it slip, her meticulously curated front fell, only a little, but enough for me to see something was wrong, she was breaking. Sitting in the conference room with the entirety of nevermores staff, her shoulders were tense, her brows lightly furrowed and eyes almost unrecognisable without the usual glint of optimism, every time she needed to speak she would swallow hard as if trying to rid a lump in her throat before stuttering out somewhat cohesive responses.

She didn’t want to be there. In fact the second the meeting adjourned she picked up her phone, paperwork and cold coffee cup and made her way back to her office without a glance back at the room. I saw her body sway haphazardly as she reached her large wooden doors, I started to second guess following her, I didn’t know what I was doing, I didn’t know why I felt the need to trail so awkwardly behind her, but something in me needed to make sure she was ok.

When I arrived at her once again closed doors, I raised my fist in the air ready to knock and took a deep breath, what exactly I was readying myself for at the time, I had no idea. Drawing back about to strike the wood with my knuckles a rather frantic student came bolting down the corridor. “Miss y/l/n! Please! There’s a pack of wear wolfs fighting in the quad and you’re the first teacher I found.” A very puffed Enid Sinclair breathed out.

I turned on the spot, immediately she lead the way, I could see over the railing the four boys who were tackling each other in the mud, seems that a down pour took place when in the meeting. Running down the stairs in a hurry, I told her to stay under shelter and not risk getting involved, a look of warning was given to all surrounding students as they watched the commotion. A deep breath. “Hey!” I shouted, only one of the boys looked to see who it was. Then and there I took it upon myself to do what I just said not to, get involved.

I marched into the rain and b-lined to the commotion. “Stop it, for god sake!” At this point I was just blatantly annoyed, putting myself in the line of fire I reached out and pulled two of the boy’s shirt collars and ripped them apart standing between the two. “Pull yourselves together! Your parents don’t pay your tuition for you to pull this crap!” I yelled. I stepped past the two and stood in front of the next boys who were still, pathetically might I add, punching on. I didn’t say a word, but quickly did they stop.

A stern expression was sent their way and the looks I received in return were nothing short of apologetic and anxious glances, they all know what’s to come, however I can’t be bothered to make a mess of the rest of the day. “Shower, Dinner and dorm. Do you all understand?” I asked the boys, nods and ‘yes Miss’s, erupted quietly and quickly before they scurried off to their appointed tasks. “Back to the dining hall, now.” I said to all the other lurking kids.

It’s really starting to pour down, the morning sunshine completely gone and replaced with cold showers and gloomy skies. Seeing I’m already soaked to the bone i thought I may as-well take a moment to enjoy it, except when I raised my head, I saw her, hands clamped to the railing, a somewhat frightened look on her face and the realisation that she’d been seen. I stared at her, I could see in her eyes that she was torn, even from this far away.

She whipped around and sauntered away. I know she knows. I didn’t waste time, I trudged back through the mud and made it to the stairs, after taking a few steps I removed my shoes and carried them the rest of the way, every hurried step along the freezing stones, was another step closer to her. The second I made it to her office I dropped my shoes and opened the door without knocking.

She was there. Her back turned towards me staring out the large window behind her desk, her head bowed slightly and hands hugging onto her torso. I stood rooted in place dripping wet and heavily breathing. “Larissa.” I said quietly, her head raised and arms dropped to her side, she peered over her shoulder to glance at me, her body following, turning to fully gaze at me.

‘Please’.

I didn’t take my eyes off hers. Not even when she took a step and a step back, second guessing herself. Not even when she finally decided to let go and stride directly towards me, not until she reached to my face with her warm hands and kissed me. I know she knows. She knows… that I know.

“I love you.”

———

@sabraaabra

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #principle weems #wednesday #gwenchrist(ie)#larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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vampiric-tempt · 1 year ago

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Kinktober | 06

≡ edging | kung lao x gn!reader *ੈ✩‧₊˚

tw ➤ nsfw, edging, jealous kung lao, hickeys

a/n: sorry for posting this two days late! There's no excuse, I just didn't feel like writing it till now lol

❥・*。"Hey, what was that out there!" Kung Lao asks, following behind you as you entered your shared room.

"What was what, Kung Lao?"

Kung Lao rolls his eyes, placing his hat down onto the nightstand. "Why did you let Johnny flirt with you, you know how I am!"

"And you know how Johnny is!" You throw your hands up in exaggeration. "You know I wasn't moved by any of it, there's nothing to worry about babe."

Kung Lao grumbles and grabs onto your wrist, pulling your hips together. "I know...I just don't like it."

You roll your eyes playfully, splaying your hands against his chest. "I like it when you're jealous, it's cute."

"Cute? I'm not cute, I'm hot."

You chuckle at your lover's words and lean forward to kiss him. An appreciative hum leaves Kung Lao's throat, his hands pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. You could feel Kung Lao guiding you toward the bed as your lips intimately danced with each other. His body moving over yours as your back hit the bed.

Kung Lao pulls away, a smirk on his face. "I should remind you who you belong to, y/n." He ducks his head to your neck, brushing his lips against your jaw down to your collarbone. You instinctively lean your head back as Kung Lao begins to bite and tease your sensitive skin.

You gasp as his teeth bite your skin repeatedly and Kung Lao couldn't help, but smile into your neck. He kept up his teasing until he was sure he had littered your entire neck of hickeys. He leaned back with a sense a pride. "These hickeys look good on you." He says.

He gives you another quick kiss before pulling back to help the both of you undress. Your clothes now tossed aside, he eagerly positions you toward his hips. Without warning, he begins to push himself slowly into you, his head stretching your walls as he goes deeper.

"Oh my god." Your hands grasp at his forearms. "Fuck, it feels so big."

Kung Lao grunts and begins to set a slow, but rough pace. His hips slamming into yours with each thrust so sensually. You moaned tossing your head back into the sheets, Kung Lao's thrusts making you see stars with how good he was fucking you.

He continued to fuck you, his eyes watching how you furrowed your brows and parted your lips slightly, overwhelmed by his thrusts. He could tell you were nearing your climax as his name left your mouth like prayers, nails digging into his forearm.

However, Kung Lao slowed his movements even more, preventing your climax from reaching.

"Kung Lao," You whined. "Please."

"I don't think you deserve it though." He smirks, beginning to thrusts again.

"Fuuuck," You curse, "You're s-such an asshole- mhmp~" You moan.

Kung Lao continued this for nearly an hour, continuously making you near your end, only to stop and do it all over again. He admired the sight of tears staining your face and the way you could barely mutter a word.

"C'mon baby, who do you belong to again?" Kung Lao coos.

"Y-you, I belong to-" You moaned, feeling his dick hit a particular spot within you.

"Use your words baby."

"I belong to you Kung Lao!" You cried, an utter mess beneath him. "Please, p-please let me cum! I need it so bad!"

"That's right," Kung Lao grunts, feeling his climax also nearing. "You think you've been good f'me?"

"Yes! Yes yes, I've been very good!" You whine, thighs shaking from his torture.

"F-fuck, yeah you've been good," Kung Lao groans, "Cum for me y/n."

You gasp, tossing your head back as Kung Lao finally allows your orgasm to course through, the orgasm much more intense from his constant edging. He thrusts a few more times before cumming soon after you, plopping down beside you as you both tried to catch your breathes.

You smacked him with what little strength you had. "Asshole." You muttered.

He smiles and pulls you into his arms, placing his chin on top of your head. "Ahh, but you love me."

“Whatever.”

╰┈➤ other kinktober 2023 mk1 works

#mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 x reader #kinktober 2023 #gender neutral reader #mdni #mk x reader #kung lao x reader #kung lao smut

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muffinsin · 1 year ago

Note

hello, asian anon again! could you do dimitrescu sisters (mainly cassandra because i love her and she’s mommy) reaction to their girlfriend being autistic? she has a habit of sticking a bit of her tongue out when she isn’t speaking or doesn’t want to talk, also fiddles with her fingers as a sign of overstimulation. she isn’t all there, and has trouble understanding things that go on around her. she also has a very tiny frame, and has trouble staying still. :p

Of course! :)

there’s another post about an autistic s/o, which has a bit of a different prompt, I’ll link it here :)

Masterlists

Bela

She thinks you’re absolutely adorable. Her tiny, precious little human

She knows you very well, and pays attention to you at all times

She knows what to look out for with you, and if she doesn’t, she tries her best to learn

Bela loves coddling you, and looking after you

She also likes to playfully tease you sometimes. Especially when you don’t catch on immediately

When you stick your tongue out sometimes, Bela likes to playfully tease you sometimes

She watches you for a little bit, her own tongue poking out sometimes just as she watches you

She doesn’t mean to copy you, she just does sometimes, and when you catch on, it makes you laugh

Eventually, she decides to remind you of your tongue tip peeking out

“Careful, little one”, she teases with a giggle, the tip of her nail poking your tongue tip

It never fails to make her laugh fondly at you when your tongue slips back inside

She thinks you’re so cute

Bela catches onto whether you feel like talking or not quite fast

Either way, she doesn’t mind, she’s just happy to spend time with you

Often she likes to keep you near her while she works

She won’t mind the background noise of you fiddling with something, she’s plenty used to staying focused despite distractions, all thanks to her younger sisters

Even when you hum along to songs or fiddle with pencils, Bela stays focused, and merely keeps you a little closer

She likes- even though she won’t admit it- to use you as a bit of a teddy bear while she works

When you don’t feel like talking, she easily takes control of the conversation by talking of her day and work, her ever expanding list of hobbies and knowledge

Sometimes, she will merely tuck herself in bed and read to you

At other times, she likes basking in the silence with you

Having to handle her sisters nearly all day, every day, can be quite exhausting at times

Of course, she loves them. What she doesn’t love, is their constant bickering, their loud voices and words clashing against another

Then, with you, she appreciates the silence

It allows her to rest, her migraine to lessen again

Bela is a big fan of a comfortable silence between the two of you

She doesn’t need words necessarily

Often, Bela notices your early signs of feeling overstimulated before you do

Your fingers, and your quickened heartbeat, the scent surrounding you

Gently, her hand hovers over yours when she notices you fiddle with your fingers

“Come here, little one”

Then, with a comforting smile and a reassuring nod from you, she slips her hand in yours

She doesn’t mind you playing with her fingers, nor does she stop you should you begin playing with her dress between your fingertips

Gently, she guides you from what overwhelms you, into a quiet room or even her room

Bela is very careful with you. She doesn’t want to overstep

With your approval, she wraps her arms around you and helps you calm down

She speaks gently, and smiles happily when you start feeling a little calmer

Lastly, she finds it adorable when you’re clueless as to what’s going on

However, she doesn’t dwell on this for long, and doesn’t keep you in the dark

Bela is very perceptive and doesn’t at all mind explaining what is going on

Cassandra

While she doesn’t always understand you, Cassandra does her best to learn for you

She knows a vast amount of things about you already, and is quite perceptive as it comes to you

You are, after all, her (literally-) tiny human

She always looks out for you, and always will

Upon being told by you that you are autistic, she’s a little confused. She hasn’t heard of it, unsurprisingly, and assumes it means worried, given your worried expression

Therefore, her response to being told you are autistic is the following:

“About what? Is it the staff?”

You can’t help but giggle at her, and it makes her turn her head slightly to hide her blush

Perhaps it means happy, then?

“I’m autistic to hear that!”, she says instead. You only laugh more

Now Cassandra is really confused

When you explain it to her, she still isn’t quite sure why you’ve told her

It doesn’t make a difference to her, and frankly, isn’t sure whether it’s supposed to make a difference. You’re still her little sunshine, are you not?

Cassandra just smiles and shrugs, then proceeds to cuddle you and talk about her weapons

She knows to predict your mood, sometimes

For example, Cassandra is excellent at telling whether you prefer to stay quiet, to engage in conversation, or to bask in silence altogether

All three are not an issue

Cassandra loves monologuing. She could do it for hours to no end, and will gladly start with it when she notices, you want her to talk while staying quiet yourself

She’ll ramble about her weapons; her favorites and what they are best used for

About her hunts, how she successfully took down her prey and dragged it back to the castle. What her favorite prey is

Secret spots in the castle and forest, some that she shares with you, others that are only hers

Her sisters, how Cassandra is fed up with Bela’s bossiness and Daniela’s delusion, yet loves both of them dearly

And the even basement, albeit in little detail to spare you them

Sometimes, she will engage you by saying things like “right?” “You think that’s good?” “Cool, huh?”

She doesn’t expect verbal responses at all. Cassandra herself isn’t the best with her words at times and prefers quietness

She thinks it’s adorable when she monologues and you look at her, your tongue poking out

After a few minutes of letting this amuse her, she can’t help but trap the tip of your tongue between her thumb and index finger

Your surprised squeak is music to her ears

“You’re adorable, little mouse”, she only comments

With a kiss to your nose, she lets go of your tongue again and continues talking

Upon noticing you feel like talking, she will eagerly lay her head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat and words

At times, she will ask questions to show she is still interested

At other times this is clear by her large grin and shining eyes

It doesn’t matter to her what you talk about. She’s just happy to listen

Her favourite topics, of course, are ones that are especially interesting to both of you

Such as the outside or her sisters. She loves asking you about both and grins whenever you reassure her, she is your favorite

Some might call this pettiness, but really, it isn’t

As the middle child, Cassandra likes to hear you love only her and she is your definite favourite among her sisters

While you talk, she likes to cuddle and play with the fabric of your sleeve, or bump her head against your arm to silently ask for head pats or scratches

Of course, there are times it’s entirely quiet

These might be Cassandra’s favourites, though

She especially loves when your tongue pokes out again

She doesn’t correct it or let you know, she just giggles from time to time

You’re so precious to her

She enjoys to lay in bed together or bask in the sun, to merely have her hand- ungloved even- held by you

She can’t help but giggle whenever you start fiddling with her fingers. Her hands, though large and strong from wielding her weapons, are quite sensitive

When you dip your fingertip between her index and ring finger or run it up their sides, she squirms. She’s quite ticklish there

Cassandra isn’t the best at words, often. Even more so when it comes to you. She loves you so much, she just doesn’t know how to say it properly

She prefers to show you, and likes the quiet times to simply relax

Her days are often hectic and chaotic, with loud and desperate screams reaching her ears as she tortures her newest victims

These quiet times with you are precious to her

They allow her to calm down again, often enough to fall asleep, even

Cassandra notices immediately when you begin to feel overwhelmed

While she also notices how you fiddle with your fingers, your heartbeat is a giveaway

She’s a fierce huntress and immediately picks up on it and swarms to your side

Sometimes, this is enough to calm you again. At other times, she will go farther to ensure your comfort

It doesn’t limit her what overwhelms you, she will calm you down again

When you’re being talked to by a staff member, she simply snarls at them, her tall frame behind you, practically towering over you as she says

“She’s done talking now. Scurry off.”

It isn’t a request, but a demand. A warning. Everyone follows it, too

Although, her boldness sometimes makes you blush. She doesn’t mind

She grins triumphantly when they stop pestering you and offers you to spend some time with her instead

She usually gets overstimulated by too many things happening at once, so her go-to whenever you feel similar, is to take you with her and allow you to step back a bit

She makes you tell her what made you this uncomfortable, and tries her best to help you in any way she can

Cassandra knows, you often struggle to understand what is happening in your surroundings

Though, truly? Neither does Cassandra

She tends to focus on one thing and neglect everything else. Often, both of you are clueless

She’ll just stare at you when the two of you suddenly witness her sisters or staff members bickering, having been unaware of the rising tension in the room

She only shrugs, and holds your hand. She urges you to simply enjoy the show even if both of you lack context

At least, you aren’t alone. Cassandra is as clueless as you as it comes to such things, especially social settings

Often the two of you must ask Daniela or Bela to explain what is going on

Cassandra adores your inability to stay still. She thinks it’s the cutest thing and enjoys playfully wrestling to see if she can make you stay still a bit

Really, again Cassandra is the same. She too has trouble staying still and in place for long. She just has so much energy, and doesn’t like being still

When standing, she often sways and moves her hands,

When she sits, her leg bounces sometimes or she gets up altogether to swarm around

Even in bed, she likes to trace the sheets a little and turn about a few times until she’s asleep

She doesn’t fault you for not staying still, though likes to call you her little, human bouncing ball

And she wouldn’t change it for the world

Daniela

Daniela knows you, and pays attention to you. More than you think she does

Often, she is underestimated. Often, it’s believed she is dismissive

People couldn’t be more wrong. Daniela is incredibly perceptive, maybe the most perceptive out of her sisters

She picks up on all your small habits

When you tell her you’re autistic, she doesn’t understand what the word means. Upon explaining yourself, she just giggles

You silly goose, she already knew all about that!

She just kisses you and smiles. Definitions don’t mean all that much to her. You’re you. And she loves you. That’s all that matters to her

Daniela is an energetic little thing, and very talkative

At the same time she knows, there are times you’d rather stay silent

She clarifies, often, whether you want it to be silent, or merely want to stay quiet yourself

Daniela doesn’t at all mind being the only one to talk

She’s so energetic and talks so fast, often she doesn’t leave room for others to talk anyway!

She tells you of her favourite and current books, the fairytales and dragons, the princess and knights, the bodyguards and the lovers

She tells you of fictional battles and names of her favorite characters

She tells you of her latest pranks on her sisters, such as how she put a mouse in Bela’s soup and it splashed around and blood-soup was splashed all over her sister’s face when the mouse started moving

How Bela grabbed her by the collar of her dress and made her face the wall for numerous minutes to “think about what she’s done” and how boring that was

Or how Cassandra chased her around when Daniela dipped her sickle in syrup and teased her for licking it clean

She tells you of the gardens and her plans, and she eagerly pulls you along as she keeps rambling while talking you on a walk

For quiet times, Daniela loves to snuggle up and read quietly

Though she will sometimes ask you to play with her hair by rubbing her cheek against your hand

This is a good way to calm this little ball of energy down, too, so that often you find her napping with her head on your lap, the silence having lulled her to sleep

You don’t wake her, and when she opens her eyes again, she has new energy to let out on you and her sisters

Daniela thinks it’s adorable when your tongue peeks out, too!

She always coos at you, and can’t help but aww for a few seconds at the blush that follows

You’re such a cute little thing!

Daniela often sticks her tongue out without noticing, such as when she reads or concentrates

Should she tease you about yours, these are good opportunities to tease her right back

Daniela merely giggles when you do and slips her tongue back inside

Unbeknownst to many, Daniela is great in social settings

She’s a social butterfly, really, even though her vision is a little clouded by the unrealistic settings she knows from her books

Daniela doesn’t mind telling you what’s going on around the two of you- she loves it, even

With her, you always find out what happens first, things that you’d never pick up on even

She gasps at sarcastic comments you don’t notice, tells you about subtle glances and gestures, and fills you in on the drama she picks up on her everyday life

Often, Daniela likes to encourage you to watch the drama unfold with her

She enjoys to pull you on her lap- her own little teddy bear of a girlfriend- and predict when drama begins to happen

Somehow, she can always tell

“Oooooh I think she’s gonna drop the b-word!”, she likes to whisper excitedly in your ear

#cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #resident evil village #asian anon

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