#i did not bother w shading and all that

[mvrdermeharder]

As promised… here’s my character design for 20+ Isagi w an undercut and tattoo sleeve💙

Tagging those who’ve said they’ll be waiting for it @scara-simp69 @zendersenders @someprettyname 🫶

Sidenote: if anyone speaks japanese please please please let me know if i used the correct translation and kanji!!

I looked it up in japanese dictionaries but i’m not sure if it’s correct or not…

[taruruchi]

Keeping promises? (Part 2 of this post)

Notes under the cut!

YES I FINALLY FINISHED IT RAHHHHHHH 19 DAYS AFTER MY BIRTHDAYSJNDJDKD Anyway. The whole necklace thing is a reference to Azul's chat from the lessons!

Shading gave me an aneurysm but at least it's done. My favorite part is the chibis tho so I hope everyone enjoys that <3 Even made Azul go :3 as a treat

Edit: @jewelulu I forgot u wanted me to tag u when I post art, so sorry 😔😔 But yeah new art :D

[eroselless]

UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES

summary => Request: Could you write a one-shot about Charles’ girlfriend wearing one his Ferrari jerseys or like his merch w his name on it and he fucks her with it on? [2.1k]

[charles leclerc x reader]

warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut 

note: I’ve had this request in my inbox for so long and I’ve been absolutely itching to get this out. I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers so I changed it a bit to fit with the idea that I ended up rolling with.

School’s out until July so if anyone has anything they want written, send it in :) Hope you guys enjoy this first Charles request! 

You groan at the sound of urgent knocking at your door. Groggily, you pull yourself from your bed and make your way to the door. You don’t bother switching on the lights, neon signs from outside streaming light through your half-closed blinds, making patterns on the carpeted floor. The digital clock above the stove reads 3.27 am. You peek through the peephole, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Charles, shifting from one foot to the other. You swing the door open, a yawn pulling your jaw open. You squint at him, the light becoming too much for your eyes.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” you question as Charles rubs the back of his neck. His hair is dishevelled and his cheeks are a light shade of pink. 

“I, uh, I lost my keys and my phone while I was out and I can’t get into my apartment,” He explains sheepishly. You sigh, shaking your head in mild irritation. You step aside to let him in.

“You owe me big time for waking me up at this ungodly hour.” You state, trailing behind him after locking the door. He chuckles a soft ‘of course, chérie’ before heading into your room. He makes a beeline for your closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off of his designated shelf. He pulls them on before reaching back and tugging off his shirt. 

“How exactly did you manage to lose both your keys and your phone in one night?" you call from outside, a hint of amusement in your voice. He shakes his head. "Long story," He replies vaguely. 

He makes his way out, switching on a floor lamp by your bed. His eyes are on you as you collapse on the bed with an exasperated sigh. You roll away from him, facing towards the opposite side of the room. You pull the sheet up to your chest, making sure to keep some for him when he tucks himself next to you. His gaze trails over your figure in the dim light, eyes catching the big 16 and Leclerc written across the back of your oversized, overworn t-shirt. He cocks his head to the side, blinking a few times, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Are you sleeping in my race shirt?” He teases, not having noticed it earlier. You turn at the sound of his voice, letting out a sleep mhmm. Your eyes are heavy, threatening to pull you quickly back into a deep sleep. The look you share is charged with something that makes you grow warm. A familiar feeling blooms in your tummy, a feeling not typically felt towards your best friend. He narrows his eyes at you and you can see a fire beginning to build in his cerulean eyes. He stares at your body, probably longer than he should.

You’re the image of a goddess as you lay on your back innocently, hair sprawled around you, almost like a halo. He can’t help but admire the red fabric against your skin or how it clung to every curve of your body. He can see the dark material of your underwear, poking out slightly from under the t-shirt. His eyes settle on the valley between your breasts and how your nipples have pebbled against the cold air. 

A shiver runs through him as he tears his gaze away from you. He rubs at his arms, turning away from you as he does. He clears his throat, setting his watch and wallet on your bedside table.

“Are you cold at all? Do you need another blanket?” 

You mumble a quiet no, reaching a hand across the bed. He watches as you make a grabby motion with your hand, beckoning into bed. He hesitates for a moment, suddenly self-conscious of what he is wearing, or rather, lack thereof. His pants are hung low on his hips and his shirt lays on the floor by your dresser. He bites his lip as he slips in next to you. His eyes widen slightly as you grab his arm, pulling him into you. It’s not like this was an odd occurrence, having years of comfort between each other. But his mind always seemed to wander, wondering how you’d feel without the barrier of clothes between you. He adored how you proudly wore HIS name in support during races. Here, the red fabric of your shirt contrasts with the white of your sheets, it feels so much more intimate. He couldn’t get the image of how good you looked with your back to him, his name sitting between your shoulder blades. 

You can feel him tense up as you settle under him, his head lying on your chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the goosebumps blooming across your skin as the cold air drifts through the sheets. He has to stop himself from letting his hands (and his mouth) wander over the fabric of the shirt. 

It seems to him like you’re drifting back into sleep as he lays wide awake. He feels your hands wander over the large expanse of his back, your touch sending goosebumps down his spine. Your fingers take their time feeling over every mole and scar littered over his skin. You knead his thick muscles, a rumble escaping Charles’s lips as you dip your fingers in every dip and hill. His breath is hot on your skin as he shoves his head in the crook of your neck. 

Your eyes don’t feel as heavy when your hands find their way closer to the waistband of his pants. They settle there for a moment before you decide to slip a finger under it, pulling at it and releasing it. It snaps against his skin, a yelp escaping him. 

He lets out a laugh, quick fingers poking at your side. You thrash under him, howls of laughter bouncing off the walls. He blows raspberries into the thin skin of your neck, only causing you to squirm further. 

The energy slips from the room as you both stop to catch your breath. He’s suspended over you, supporting himself with his arms on either side of your head. The fire you’d seen earlier burns in his eyes as he looks down at you. It burns at the line you’re both afraid to step over, knowing full well that if it burns it away completely, there’ll be no going back. His eyes are locked on yours. They’re dark, their usual blue now as dark as a storming sea. Your eyes trace over the curve of his cupid’s bow and flicker up to his eyes once again. 

The warmth in your lower belly returns as he leans down and presses a tantalizingly slow kiss on your jaw. His hand cups the back of your thighs and you're suddenly hyperaware of the thin and increasingly wet fabric of your underwear. You let out a quick breath as he drags his lips over the column of your neck. The hand that isn’t supporting him slides up your body and under your shirt, gently grazing at your ribcage. You slip a hand away from his body, meeting his under your t-shirt. Sliding it higher, you bring his hand up to your breast. His fingers pinch teasingly at your puffed-up nipples, pulling a whine from your lips. 

“Charles…” you moan out, eyes opening and meeting his as he pulls away. Your eyes meet, the room going quiet again. 

In an instant, his mouth is on yours, tongue swirling with yours. You can taste hints of tequila on his tongue, no doubt the reason why he lost his keys and phone. He moves to sit on his heels and you follow his lips, already intoxicated with them. 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you snugly onto his lap as he settles at the head of the bed. The bulge in his pants is pressed deliciously against your crotch. You let out a gasp as he grips tight onto your hips, moving you over his hard-on. 

“You look so pretty in Ferrari red,” he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your neck. The pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline. A smile tugs softly at your lips. 

He hesitates as his fingers drop to the waistband of your underwear. He fiddles slightly with the fabric, mimicking what you had done earlier and snapping it gently over your skin. You felt a gasp get pulled from your chest as his hands began to move under the fabric, pressing into the bundle of nerves at your very center. Your voice comes out in broken fragments:

”Charlie, please…” you beg.

You don’t quite know what you're asking for. For so long, you’d unconsciously ached for him. Your own fingers would find their way into your underwear and with your eyes squeezed shut, you’d try to imagine that they were his. His touch now feels almost overwhelming. You crave the weight of his body pressing you down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your most sensitive parts —

“Fuck,” he cries out, hips bucking up into yours. He squeezes at your breast, biting at your nipple over the fabric. You go to pull the shirt off, needing to feel his lips on your skin when he stops you, eyes hazy and glazed over with lust.

“No,” he says shaking his head. “Leave it on.” his fingers now travel downwards, pressing at your clit through your wet panties. You take in a sharp breath, head falling back. He circles it, thumb and pointer finger pinching at it slightly. 

“Need more,” you slur. He meets your gaze, a soft pink adorning his cheeks.

“Need my cock, mon coeur?” You nod instantly. You go up on your knees, giving him the chance to pull his sweatpants just enough to free his cock. It taps gently at your stomach, precum already beading at its tip. You draw your finger over its slit, a thin sting appearing as you pull away. Charles lets out a groan under you, eyes swimming with desire.

You climb off quickly, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor. Charles can’t take his eyes off of you as you swing a leg over his lap, his hands going to take hold of your thighs. His eyes float to where your grab him and bottom out on his cock. The squeeze you give him is so much better than he had anticipated. His mouth falls open as you take him in fully, he can’t believe he’s gone this long without ever feeling you all around him. You grind your hips against his, setting a rhythm. 

“t’es une si bonne fille, tu me prends tout entier,” he groans. such a good girl, taking all of me. His hands feel like they have nowhere to go but to the globes of your tits as they bounce deliciously in front of him. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, twisting it and pulling it up. Your tits burst out from under the fabric, nipples pebbling at the cold breeze in the air. He wraps his lips around them, teeth teasing them gently. Your back arches at the feeling, only pressing them further into his face. He was hooked how the fabric of the shirt ripples over your chest and the taste of your skin on his tongue.

“P-putain..” he whimpers, coming up for air. He lets out grunt as he plants his feet on the bed, lifting his hips fucking into you with force. Your lips part as the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates through the room. His hands go to your ass, fingers digging into the suple flesh as he rocks you against him. Your hands take refuge on his chest, gasping as he hits your sweet spot. You feel so full with him as he continues to move at a steady pace. 

He brings his lips up to yours, groaning softly against your panting lips. It only spurrs you further, circling your hips to meet his as he continued to rutting his hips up into you. You can feel your orgasm nearing, a wave of pleasure coming over you. It envelops you, suffocating you as it crashes down. 

Charles can’t hold it any longer, lifting you off of him as strings of cum spill from his cock, coating his stomach. You sit on his thighs, just beyond the reach of the spurts. He looks incredible, cheeks red, lips swollen, chest heaving. You feel like you’re under a spell as you drag a finger through the warm cum on his stomach and tuck it between your lips. His eyes seem to sparkle, a new flame appearing suddenly in them.

“Can we go again?” his voice cuts through the suddenly silence in the room. With an innocent meeting of eyes, there is only one response that can escape you lips. There’s a grin playing on your lips, finger still caught between your teeth. An astounding answer echoes through the room with no words spoken, it has the two of you tossing around the sheets until the sun comes up. You’re gonna have to wear his name more often.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

art cred: maichiatto62 (x)

☦︎synopsis: you get chased by a dark and undetermined figure in the woods, and run toward a dreadful castle that houses a seemingly kind man, will you stay awhile?

☦︎genre: smut w/plot

☦︎tags: vampiric hypnotism, mentions of blood, biting, corruption, dialogue heavy, degradation “whore” , loss of virginity, cunnalingus, creampie, mirror

☦︎wrd cnt: 2.2k

☦︎a/n: vampires and gothic literature is my favorite so this was a dream to write and I hope anyone reading enjoys!

Twigs and thistle snap under your feet as you walk through the fruit berring bushes, feeling the low laying leaves scratch your ankles.

You lost track of time and try to find your group, you probably should have skipped this hiking trip. Or at least wore shorts that covered your knees. The night drew upon your haggard form quite quickly, and the temperature dropped significantly.

You tried your best to find the light of the campfire you knew was there before you left.

After a few minutes of silent walking, besides your rummaging footsteps, you hear a loud thud somewhere behind you.

Your back straightened up like a rod, “Hello?” Your voice echos slightly, bouncing off the trees and up toward the stars. You prayed like hell it was one of your friends, coming to your salvation.

When nobody answered you after your third call out, you kept walking.

You heard another loud noise, as if a bolder dropped straight into a big pile of leaves, trembling the ground you stood on.

Frozen in fear, like a deer, you stand in the middle of a plot of dirt surrounded by the thick trees and shrub.

Your eyes open wide and your hands balled up in fists, you survey the area until you find the source of the sound.

A tree, wounded with a big chunk missing from the side.

It still stood tall, but reckoned to snap if it had been torn just a few more inches towards the unbent side.

You wondered who could have caused such destruction, or rather what.

You would find out soon enough, when you examine the tree to find streaks of blood scattered over earthen hide.

Following the trail you discovered the remains of some animal.

Well that’s what you think it was, it had been mangled and torn in such a brutal manner there was no way to identify exactly what it could have been.

As you tried your best to figure it out, a black shadow stalked you from afar.

Red orbs visible with stillness behind a tree, slowly growing larger in your view as it approached. The dimness of the atmosphere cloaked it well.

You stepped back, shoes muddied and heavy as you ran. You ran until you saw the nearest source of light, not bothered to look behind you to whatever was chasing.

Your labored breath became cold and dryed out your throat.

You ran and ran until you found a rather tall and lucrative looking building, somewhat of a mansion or moreso fitting of a castle.

Where the hell did that come from? You’ve never seen anything like it before in all the times you’d hiked in these woods.

You didn’t have much time to question it, but ran right to the door.

It was slightly crept open, so you figured it must have been some kind of open house or exhibit.

You rushed in, shutting the grand door.

As you caught your breath, you almost screamed when you heard a man’s voice right behind you. Who you somehow didn’t see when first stepping in, as if he’d appeared from thin air.

“Good evening.” The man said, burning candle in his hand.

You turned before he could even finish his greeting, a look of utter terror in your eyes.

“Are you well dear? You’re bleeding”

You didn’t even notice, but your knees had been scrapped and dripping blood halfway down your shins.

His eyes lit a shade of red barely able to be detected, or maybe it was just the reflection of the flame? You were quite scared and paranoid after all.

“Oh- I’m so sorry, The door was open and I didn’t know anyone was here- Someone was chasing me.”

“Oh my, are you alright? Come, let me offer you safety tonight.” He beckoned you to follow him, the rays of the small flame from the wax stick guiding you as he most graciously offered you a safe heaven in his home.

You looked around at the torchlit walls, it felt dark and cold throughout the entire place.

He walked you up 2 flight of stairs, his pace was quite constant throughout, almost like he was floating on each step.

You soon arrived into a hallway full of paintings adorning the walls, hand painted it seemed. So beautiful you had to point it out.

“You have a lovely home- is this artwork all yours?” You ask.

“Yes. I have quite a bit of spare time on my hands, so I much enjoy art.” He answered. The man’s voice was deep and mellow.

You walked down the red carpet hallway to the room all the way to the end, it seemed to be one of the many dozens.

There was a large canopy bed lined with dark lace and wooden upholstery.

“Please, spend the night here until morning. I wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”

Before you could even agree to his much eager assistance, he walked over to a box near the fireplace side table and pulled out several glass vials and bandages.

You walked toward him, and sat down per his instruction.

“Thank you- You’ve been so kind to me. Why?”

He chuckled, kneeling down to your level and applying an ointment to the cloth.

“Why? How ever could I turn away such a frightening young lady at my door. There are dangerous things in those woods.”

His tone sounded very concerned, but horrifyingly casual.

“What is your name Sir? If it’s okay to ask.”

“It’s perfectly okay. You can call me Blade.”

“Blade…Nice to meet you” What a strange name.

“Likewise. Now please, allow me.”

You nod, before he dabs a stinging oil to your knee. One by one.

He handles you well, gently.

His cold hands held your calves as he bandaged up your wounds.

He gets up from his knelt position, seeming even taller than he is when he stands from this view.

His long black hair was so dark it seemed blue, ends dipped in a color that resembled the shade of holly berries.

He sat down on the chair opposite of you, his face framed by the fireplaces glow behind him now.

“So tell me dear, what exactly happened?” His voice dripping in concern.

“I…really don’t know. I got lost hiking with my group and I tried to find them, but then I kept hearing weird noise in the forest and I thought it could be them looking for me. But-“

You stopped, reliving the sequence you just ran from.

He waited patiently for you to continue, his sculpture like face and rich eyes giving you their utmost attention.

“I saw blood, and a dead animal, I think a wolf or something could have done it. But there was a man- in the woods. It kept staring at me and getting close. So I ran for a while until I found your- castle?” You chuckle a little, the term house seemed beneath such a grand sanctuary.

“Maybe a werewolf?” The man said, giving you an amused chuckle. He waves his hand, “But anyways…That all sounds very frightening, I’m glad you found me.”

You nod, “As am I” you assure.

Whatever it was you are safe now y/n, very safe.” He took your hands into his own, giving them a positive squeeze with smiling eyes.

You nodded, but soon a hitch in your throat appeared and you felt like your stomach got kicked.

“I never told you my name.”

A smile appeared on his face, “Smart girl.”

His eyes glowed the same shade of sanguine you saw in the forest, chasing you. You could see two sharp teeth sticking past his upper lip, his smirk revealing to you his true identity.

You quickly get up, startled enough to drop the chair behind you and fall back onto the bed.

“Who are you-“ You scream, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he stood slowly and walked toward you.

“I already told you that, didn’t I?.”

He cupped your face, making you look straight up at him.

“Please- don’t hurt me.” You plead, tears now falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks.

“Hurt you? I just tended to your wounds, why do you think I’ll harm you dear?” His voice sounds even lower at this point, and his eyes fiery.

You kick back your leg and retreat further back into the bed, almost yelling, “You’re a vampire-!”

“And your blood smells so deliciously decadent…I almost couldn’t resist tasting you a moment ago.” He crawls toward your frame, his large hands making deep prints into the mattress.

His eyes seemed to glow in a pattern, the color deepening snd glowing slowly as he got toward you.

Your body felt weak, as if magnetic to him. Almost willing to amuse him.

“What are- what are you doing to me-“

“I haven’t done a thing. I’m just increasing the magnitude of your emotions dear. Whatever you feel at this moment is your utmost desire spilling out every orafice in your body.”

You felt your mind whirl, your body get hotter with every inch he grew closer to you.

He soon wrapped his palms behind your back, seating you in his lap.

You felt an animalistic urge settle upon you, breathing even heavier than when you ran away from him earlier.

He grazed his hand up and down your legs, taking off your shoes and socks, rubbing the sore soles of your feet.

“You must get more comfortable my dear, you seem less tense, good.” He says, slowly pressing his lips to yours as you hold his shoulder.

His tongue found yours, warm in contrast to the rest of him; tangling itself in a waltz.

He nipped at your bottom lip and pricked it, tugging at it and licking the blood that drew from it with his tongue. “Virgin blood…You are truly magnificent.”

You felt your face heat up more than your body, his presence making you feel an insatiable hunger for lust.

“Blade- please…I feel-“

“Concupiscent? I can tell, y/n”, he said, his hand trailing up to your thigh and rubbing your heat through your shorts.

You roll your hips at his touch, a small mewl escaping you.

He picks you up and plops you down further back on the bed, your head hitting the pillow softly as his large frame hovers above your body.

“I can be very thorough in relieving your…lustful desires.”

“Please- yes…” You softly gasp, feeling his lips close to your neck before they kiss you.

Hungrily he rips your top apart, as if it were made of paper.

You quiver at his touch, fear set aside and now unrelentingly yearning for all of him.

“You need not worry…I will take, good, good care of you.”

You nod, watching him soon trail his lips down to your exposed chest.

He circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple, taking it entirely in his mouth to hear you moan out; the other in his hand, his hips grinding to meet your heat as he grinds into you through the fabrics keeping you apart.

“You are a marveling beauty.” He adds, his hands finding the hem of your shorts and pulling them right down, along with your panties.

He pulled back, holding your legs apart and examining every part of you, taking in the view of his next meal.

He watched you shyly try to look away, smirking when he saw how utterly messy your cunt was, glistening and dripping juices down to the sheets.

He didn’t waste much time after that, kissing your inner thigh before planting one on your clit.

He made the most deep, sinful noises as he lapped at your cunt, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he inserts two long and slender fingers inside you.

He seemed to almost gain more pleasure from sucking on your clit than you did, almost.

You reacted like a beast in heat, legs trembling and hands gripping the sheets as your thighs pressed the sides of his face to pull him deeper into you.

You came faster than ever before. Blade sucked every drop out of you, wiping the corner of his mouth before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

He kissed you once more, not biting this time. Yet.

Without giving you time to recoup- he shed his clothing and slapped his cock on your folds, slipping it inbetween them to get it ready for you.

“I need to taste you dear…truly taste you.”

“M-my blood?” You ask, feeling even weaker and more lustful.

“Yes” he whispers close to your lips, “You will let me drink from you, won’t you, my little temptress?”

You nod- pulling him close to you as if you’d wither without him.

“You are such an eager woman. I quite like that.” He says, before pushing his entire length deep, deep inside you. You groan, eyebrows furrowed harshly as you experience such a reveling sensation.

“Fuck-“ He breathes, “You’re so tight…do you ache for me so deep? You’re sucking me in so much…such a naughty whore you are.”

He moved in and out slowly, making you feel every vein and along his shaft.

You could feel his breathe on your chest, and soon his teeth.

He sinked them into the top of your breast, sucking the blood out of you ferociously as he rutted inside you faster now, making you cry out as tears rolled down your face in pleasure.

“Ah- Blade!…”

“It will only hurt for a moment…I’ll fuck you so deeply you won’t dare to forget it.” He spouts, his mouth dripping with your blood before going back in to take more.

You quickly notice a mirror behind Blade, you haven’t noticed it before but he wasn’t in it of course. All your blurry vision could attest was your spread apart pussy, gaping with a thick hole as you watched yourself be torn apart in the most delicious way, blood dripping down to your nipple, soon to be licked up from Blade tongue, as your body moved with the rhythm of the bed; snapping out of your trance once you heard his suckling.

He whimpered and moaned as he drank, gripping your ass harder as he thrusted into you at a pace you could nearly pass out from.

So much of your cum created a ring around his cock, squelching noises filled the room and muffled the crackling of the wood in the fire.

His grasp on the fat of your ass deepened, possessiveness overwhelming him.

“You’re mine now. You don’t belong in those treacherous woods, you will stay right here.” He commanded, imaging all the ways he’d ruin your perfect pussy, wrapped around him so well he was convinced you were destined to take him, to be his and his only to fuck, eat, and fill.

In response to his hold, you clenched your walls around him tighter until you felt warm fluid rush into your womb, nodding to his wishes profusely as you release together in the romantically gothic room, your breath huffing as you came down from an intense high.

Blade on the other hand, well the stamina of a vampire is quite impressive.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[ghostlygeto]

let me be your mirror | astarion

pairing: astarion x gn!tav / reader

warnings: spoilers for early romance w astarion, fluff, kind of follows canon dialogue, reader pining hard, reader is an artist this has been done with this exact scenario surely, astarion calls reader “darling”, “my sweet”, also “dove” which isn’t canon, reader and astarion aren’t really together but i mean. yeah they are. not proof read!!!!!

word count: 1.1k

you had been drawing astarion for much longer than you’d care to admit. though the dates scribbled on the bottom of each page betrayed you, exposing that you had drawn astarion close to every day for a month.

it started off innocently, you drew all of your party members when you had first met them. you were stressed and overwhelmed with your situation at hand, the tadpole snugly sat behind your eye squirming to remind you of your devastating truth: you’d soon become a mindflayer if you couldn’t find a cure. on nights you couldn’t sleep or mornings you’d woken up early, you found yourself drawing. it had always been a way you’d let off your steam, now was no exception.

when the stress of your situation died down, as did your drawings of your now friends. you had a couple day’s worth of gale and lae’zel, and probably a week of shadowheart. but astarion? it seemed every time your tool of choice hit the paper he had been the outcome.

you weren’t ashamed of it by any means. astarion is a gorgeous man, blood sucking monster or not. his eyes captivated you (as proven by the amount of drawings of them alone), and his voice had your attention like no other. if the nature of things were any different, you might be willing to confess you were in love with him.

so when the night came and everyone had fallen asleep but the two of you, and astarion had let it slip that he hadn’t seen his reflection in two hundred years, your heart broke. he didn’t know the way his curls hooked around his ears, or the way the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly when he’d successfully kill a goblin. and his eyes, gods his eyes. you’d have to be dense to miss the way they light up at the very sight of you. knowing he didn’t get to enjoy the very things you adore about him devastated you.

“what color were they before?” you asked, arms wrapped tightly around your legs to hug them close to your chest. “your eyes, before you were turned.” your cheek pressed against your knee as you looked to him.

“my eyes?” astarion sounded surprised you’d asked him such a thing. “i don’t..i don’t remember.”

that felt like the final nail in your coffin. your heart ached more for him now that it had before, if that were even possible. if he didn’t remember his eye color, his hair color was probably long forgotten as well. it felt impossible to wrap your head around, you knew the shade of your eyes and tone of your hair by heart. the idea of forgetting it, well, you were sure you’d have to be dead to forget.

“what’s going on in that head of yours, darling?” his tone almost made you forget your sadness. it seemed anytime he spoke to you now his words were laced with honey, drawing you in and sticking to you.

“you haven’t seen yourself in two decades,” you repeat his previous words back to him, “you hardly remember your own face, is that not the least bit devastating to you?”

astarion hesitated before replying to you, trying to chose his words carefully. “of course it is. but there’s nothing i can do to change it, so why bother being upset?”

you chewed the inside of your cheek. of course you had the solution. you had probably close to twenty drawings of his face alone that could provide him some solace about the entire thing. but what if he thought you were weird for it? none of them knew of your little hobby, he could expose it to the others and they could cast you out for invading their privacy. and well, your infatuation toward him was nothing short of romantic. you weren’t sure he needed to know that, but exposing your drawings to him would make it clear.

“i can feel your tadpole wriggling around, what’s wrong, my sweet?” his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you finally managed to speak.

“let me be your mirror,” you offered, raising your head from your knees. you could practically see his thought process, and you didn’t miss the small smirk on his face. “what do you want to know?”

“i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” astarion held his usual cocky tone for a moment, but for a second it faultered. “what you see.”

“close your eyes,” he obeyed, wondering what it was exactly you were making him close them for. it wasn’t until he heard shuffling in your tent beside him that he opened them and called out to you confused.

“what are you doing? what in your tent could ever allow you to be my mirror?”

“hush, would you?” you roll your eyes at him as you step out from your shelter and back toward him. you took a deep breath before sitting back down next to him, offering him the pile of papers. “here.”

for the first time since you had met him, astarion was speechless. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from you, maybe a few put together compliments for him to tease you about before leaving the conversation at that. but this? he had no idea that you could draw, let alone that you’d use such a talent to draw someone like him.

“i know it might be weird, sorry,” you hide your face from him, afraid of his reaction. “i’m sure it might not be comforting to know someone you had barely known until recently has been drawing you for-”

“i don’t find it weird,” he interrupted you, gently grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, “look at me,” guiding your eyes to his, astarion offered you a smile. not a cocky smile or his usual smirk, but rather a real smile. one you weren’t sure you’d seen from him before. “thank you…for this. they’re beautiful. and i…i could never express my gratitude to you,”

you removed your chin from his hold and waved your hand at him, dismissing his words. “don’t say all that astarion. you make an amazing muse, it’d be criminal of me to not make use of that.” you chose to pretend the burning in your cheeks had been from the fire and not the blooming embarrassment.

“criminal, hm?” it didn’t take long for the astarion you had grown attached to to return, smirk plastered on his face. he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours before speaking again, his voice low and almost sultry, “well we wouldn’t want you to get arrested again, now would we, dove?”

“you ruined the moment, astarion,” you huff, pulling your legs back to your chest to rest your head on your knees again. “it’s getting late. we should sleep.”

astarion nodded, standing from his place and offering you his hand to help you up. “yes, i’d hate for a lack of sleep to ruin your muse,” he teased again, handing you back your drawings. “i’ll see you in the morning, darling.”

reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated !!

[prettiestlovergirl]

SWEET

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; oral (f. receiving); hickeys; kitchen quickie; slightly sub! mattheo riddle; french! mattheo riddle.

concept: an afternoon of baking ends in you covered in a mess your boyfriend, mattheo riddle, is more than willing to help you clean up.

a/n: one of my lovely lovely anons helped me come up with this idea hehe. inspired by me, accidentally covering myself in edible glitter when baking. some idea credit to bratetteprincess who just recently did a latina! reader baking w/luke castellan fic! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

everybody in your house knew that sunday mornings were for your baking.

after two years of begging and pleading with all of your professors, you were given permission to use the kitchens one day a week in order to bake to your hearts desire.

you always liked to experiment with new things. various dyes that stained your hands different shades, new flavors that made your hair smell for days, edible flowers that made you gag.

today, though, you might have gotten just a teensy tiny bit carried away with your current experiment: edible glitter.

you'd been desperately craving carrot cupcakes but after you'd made and decorated them, they just looked so... boring. after glancing around the blissfully empty kitchen, you spotted it: the silver edible glitter just begging to be used.

you pressed the pump once over the baking tray, watching happily as a cloud of glitter flew out and created a glittery sheen over the cream cheese frosting.

long story short, 15 minutes later your cupcakes were perfect and you were absolutely covered in edible glitter.

you'd been in the middle of sliding your pretty pink apron off when your boyfriend, mattheo, came in to bother check up on you. mattheo was practically fucking addicted to you.

he couldn't stand not being around you for more than an hour, and when he was with you? his hands were all over you, constantly touching, grabbing, rubbing, or squeezing some part of your body. not that you really minded, you were just as obsessed with him.

"wow, ma douce (my sweet), did an arts and crafts shop throw up on you?" he asked, his usual teasing smirk on lips as he wrapped his arm around you. he nuzzled his face into your neck, not caring about the glitter transferring to his clothes. "what are you even doing with glitter? thought you were baking." he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"it's edible glitter. my cupcakes looked so boring n i ran out of those carrot n bunny sprinkles i love so... i tried something new." you shrugged, sticking your lower lip out in a pout as you set your glitter covered apron down on the counter.

"edible, huh?" mattheo asked, eyes now locked on the shimmering skin above your collarbone. "mhm." you nodded, not paying much attention to your boyfriend as you attempted to try and clean up your mess.

you paused your actions as he leaned down and took a nice, long lick up from your collarbone to your jaw. you let out a soft gasp while he groaned instantly at the sugar taste, admiring how your skin shined now with both the glitter and his saliva.

"mattheo..." you breathed, your voice a soft whine as he drew his tongue back down. "mattheo, i have to clean up, it's part of my deal with the professors." you whined, trying to move from his grip that only seemed to tighten as you shifted.

he thrived on the sounds of your pretty little whimpers, already getting drunk on the one little taste he had of you. he'd never been so down bad for anyone before, but with you? he couldn't help but want to touch you, taste you, 24/7.

"we are cleaning up, ma douce (my sweet). 'm helping you clean up all this glitter first, you got a big clump right there." he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin and sucking harshly on it, drawing another whimper from your lips.

he sucked on the skin, drawing moan after moan out of you until he could see the beginnings of a pretty purple bruise. "there we go, all gone." he hummed, his hands finding their way up to your chest and squeezing your boobs gently.

you mewled softly as he squeezed, biting your lower lip as he kissed and sucked purple marks all over your neck. you squeezed your thighs together tightly, feeling the wetness pool in your panties.

normally, you'd be upset with the number of hickeys he left, but the way his lips moved in sync with his hands made you a little distracted.

he moved away from your neck, now kissing and swiping his tongue over the skin down your arms. he left the occasional bite mark as he moved, your fingers now digging into his scalp as your breathing got heavy.

"mm, mattheo, now you've got some glitter on you." you pouted, dipping your own head down to lick up the newly transferred glitter. you traced your name on his neck with your tongue, leaving your own series of hickeys on his neck.

"fuck." he groaned, hands still massaging your boobs over your clothes while you suck his neck and paint it varying shades of purple and green.

"you should use this glitter more often." he murmured, to which you simply nodded instantly. you grazed your teeth over his pulse point, giggling softly as he let out his own soft whine. "y'know, i think you've got some more glitter down further. hop up on the counter, yeah? want to check it out." he grunted.

you pushed the cooling rack holding your sparkly cupcakes to the side before lifting yourself up onto the counter. "really want to make sure we get it all off." mattheo hummed, lifting your ass up a bit and dragging your shorts and panties down your legs.

he knelt down before you, pressing a few soft kisses up both of your legs before being face to face with your drooling cunt. "ma douce, douce ange (my sweet, sweet angel)" he crooned, taking a long lick through your puffy folds and watching as your toes curled in pleasure.

"fuck, it's even sweeter than the glitter." he groaned, dipping his tongue right back into your pussy. your head lolled back, teeth trapping your lower lip roughly while your hand gripped the back of his head.

he pinched your clit between his teeth and his tongue before rubbing his tongue back and forth rapidly. he relished in the way your back arched and your moans got louder and louder.

you thanked god for the soundproofed kitchens as you bucked your hips against his face. "mattheo, fuck, mattheo!" you whimpered, his name sounding like heaven from your lips.

his tongue continued to work your sensitive clit as you moaned for more, begged for him to move faster. "god, fuck yes, fuck!" you whined, gripping at his curls tightly while he continued to flick his tongue against your puffy bundle of nerves.

"shit, fuck, mattheo, 'm gonna- fuck!" you moaned, nearly collapsing back on the counter as you came roughly on his tongue and chin. he licked and lapped at your pussy, going until he got every single drop and your legs were quivering from the overstimulation.

he let you catch your breath before eventually helping you back up. you got redressed and together, you picked up the kitchen and got your cupcakes onto your pretty little platter.

later that afternoon, you and mattheo snuggled up together on the couch in the common room, chatting away about whatever nonsense you felt like chatting about.

when your friends came in, their eyes widened in confusion at the sight of you: you were both still coated in glitter with hickeys all over your necks, and you even had bite marks on your arms.

"jesus, did you get into a fight with a sparkly vampire?"

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Eight - Sparkling diamond

♡♡♡

Benedict joined his sister, Eloise, out in the garden again long after the other had gone to bed. She was smoking on the swing like last time.

As Benedict takes a seat on the opposite swing, she passes him the cigarette. He takes it.

"I found bits of your sketchbook in the fireplace," Eloise says.

"Are you spying on me now?"

"You'd actually have to be interesting for me to bother spying on you," she chuckles.

"The drawings in that sketchbook were abominable," he says firmly. "I could not stand to look at them."

"I believe that is why they call it a sketchbook." Eloise looks at them. "I write in my diary, which is not the same as wiring in my novel."

Benedict chuckles.

"It must be very difficult to want something and not be able to get it."

"Eloise..."

"If you enjoy drawing but need practise, then practise," she goes on. "Hire a drawing master. Find a young lady to act impressed."

You cross his mind. However, he doesn't want you to act impressed. He wants you to be impressed by his work. Genuinely so.

"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky. Some of us cannot.

"Look no further than Lady Whistledown. She possesses a huge talent for writing, and yet she must hide away and publish under a false name."

"Yes, because if anyone knew who Whistledown truly was, she'd be strung up for what she said," Benedict states.

"That is not my point. Whistledown is a woman, therefore she has nothing, and still she writes. You're a man, therefore you have everything. You are able to do whatever you want. So do it. Be bold."

Eloise envies her brothers.

"At least that way I can live vicariously through you." She rises to leave.

"Eloise... are you Lady Whistledown?" Benedict asks.

Eloise laughs.

"You're an accomplished writer, always scribbling in that diary of yours. You certainly know everyone else's business. You have more opinions than anyone else I know in London. You would have my full support and admiration either way, sister."

Elosie laughs again.

"So... is it you?"

"No." She looks at him. "Though if it were... do you honestly think that I'd admit it?"

Elosie heads back inside.

Benedict is left with his thoughts.

♡♡♡

The ballroom was elegantly designed. Soft shades to light up the room. You find yourself without a dance partner, however.

Prince Friedrich was in the middle of a dance with Cressida Cowper.

The duke was standing sternly off to the side with Lady Danbury. They appeared to be talking quietly, though judging by the stern faces, it was not a pleasant conversation.

You find yourself gently, and you admire the room. Benedict wasn't here. You couldn't see him at all.

That is not to say you had gone unnoticed. You glance to your left and find a perfectly suitable gentleman looking your way. You smile softly and turn your gaze away.

Tactics of flirtation were not completely out of your power.

Before anyone could make a move, however, the doors at the top of the stairs opened. It wasn't so much the doors that caught everyones attention, more like who had come through them.

You swear you all breath left you when your eyes landed on Daphne coming down the stairs with her mother. She was wearing the most beautiful silver gown you had ever seen, and her hair was beautifully done. She looked like, well, a princess.

In her hand was a feather fan. It went beautifully with her attire. She began to descend the stairs.

All eyes were on her.

Prince Friedrich was at the bottom of the stairs. Not once did he look away. You watch with interest as Daphne gets closer, closer, and closer to him.

The prince leaves Cressida's side to meet Daphne at the bottom stair.

The duke does not move.

Daphne stops.

"Miss Bridgerton, I simply musylt have your first dance." He speaks to her softly.

"It would be an honour, your highness." She curtsies.

A moment passes between them, and then you watch as Daphne drops her fan. Just like that, the prince kneels down to pick it up.

The prince kneeled.

You don't even realise the soft gasp you let out as you watch.

Prince Friedrich offers her the fan, and she takes it. She smiles at him and then gives the fun to her mother as she takes the prince hand.

They dance.

The duke leaves. Though he turns back to look at Daphne before he goes.

In the words of Lady Whistledown, why settle for a duke when one can have a prince?

♡♡♡

The invitation to attend the boxing match came from Anthony Bridgerton. You were rather pleasantly surprised by his invitation.

Anthony apparently needed some help to keep his mother quiet about finding a wife for himself.

You laughed.

You follow the siblings until they reach the prince. He approaches Daphne, but greets you, also. You curtsy.

Anthony then offers you his arm. "Shall we?"

You chuckle and take it, allowing him to lead you over to some seats. As you settle, you turn to the eldest Bridgerton.

"Where are you brothers?" You ask.

"My brothers? Currently talking to one of the fighters." He gestures to the edge of the ring where you spot Colin and Benedict.

You don't even notice you're smiling.

"You and my brother seem to have grown rather close." Anthony points out, looking at you.

"I can assure you there is nothing untoward. Your brother is my friend, as are you all now." You smile at him.

Anthony chuckles.

"Benedict seems to have a lot on his mind at the moment. I am not one to get in the way of someone's business."

"Smart woman," Anthony chuckles.

You nudge his arm lightly and wait for the fight to begin.

As the match is announced to begin, the other brothers find their way to you and Anthony. Benedict looks rather surprised to see you. "I had no idea you were attending."

"Your brother invited me to keep your mother off his back. It seems that is all I'm good for." You chuckle.

"No true, but appreciated none the less," Benedict comments.

You smile, and he takes the empty seat beside you. It does not go unnoticed that you keep your arm looped with Anthony's. He doesn't comment on it.

The fight is intense. You gasp with every hard punch. The men around you cheer on their victor.

You had never witnessed such a match before, and you would be lying if you said you were not somewhat into it.

As the crowd stands, you stand with them and cheer along with the Bridgerton brothers. William Mondrich was their friend, and he was putting up hell of a good fight.

Benedict finds it amusing how excited you seem to be.

Mondrich wins!

You cheer along with the brothers. You laugh at the excitement. It was a thrilling match, indeed.

Anthony helps you down from your seat and speaks close to your ear so you can hear him. "We're off to collect our winnings. I shall see to it you get home right after."

You nod and thank him. As he leaves to fetch his earrings, Benedict turns to you.

"Did you enjoy that?"

You chuckle. "I did. Surprisingly."

"I must say, I did not expect to see you in attendance."

"I am full of surprises."

Benedict looks at you quietly for a moment. "Yes. You are."

You smile and look away. However, his gaze lingers on you for a bit.

Later, the Bridgertons see to it that you get home safely before they head off to the club. A place for the gentlemen only.

Anthony helps you up into the carriage and thanks you for humouring him today. Yo return the gesture and wave as the carriage leaves.

Colin has to nudge Benedict out of his thoughts.

♡♡♡

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[seullovesme]

need your attention » nakamura kazuha

pairing ⥬ kazuha x f!reader

genre ⥬ fluff

summary ⥬ you pay the le sserafim girls a visit after one of their stages and your time spent with a certain member was misunderstood by kazuha

sorry to my dear anon who requested this, ive been neglecting this for so long 😞

the attention of the le sserafim girls was caught when a member of the staff quite loudly questioned you, asking who you were and why you were trying to get inside.

the first one to recognize you was eunchae, she was surprised to see you and got the attention of the leader sitting beside her, telling her to tell the staff to let you in. "unnie! look it's y/n, tell them to let her in!"

the other girls heard your name and turned to see you standing at the door with a face mask on being talked to by some staff. chaewon got up and rushed to go and assist you while the members all smiled at each other.

she pulled the face mask off your face and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to where everyone had been sitting and she sat you right beside sakura before claiming her spot beside yunjin.

"y/n!" the eldest cheered as she hugged you as tight as possible, making your face turn a shade of red as you felt the air leave your lungs. "hey, stop hogging her!" eunchae yelled as she also lunged toward you and you yelped when she squeezed you too.

"guys stop! look at her, she's gonna pop!" they both let go of you to take a peek at your face and you gasped for air. "one more second and you may have actually suffocated me." you say in between small breaths, smiling at the affection of your friends.

"not our fault, where have you been? we missed you!" sakura said, going in for a much softer hug. you took your eyes off her and glanced at kazuha who was crossing her arms, looking disinterested. did she not miss you at all? you looked away and coughed as you noticed that the rest were all patiently waiting for your response, wondering if they saw you peek at the ballerina.

"w-well, i've been busy working at this new company and i actually got paid yesterday, so i was hoping that i could treat you guys out for dinner!" when you made the offer, the girls all got up and began squealing in excitement. it was nice finally seeing them again, you enjoyed watching them be so up and active, just being so cheerful. especially zuha.

but she didn't get up like the rest of them had. she just kept sulking in her seat. you could tell something was off about her and that she was thinking really deeply, but you chose not to say anything. you knew that she would tell you what was bothering her sooner or later, she always let you know what was on her mind.

they began discussing places to go and what foods they were craving. you watched them happily, ecstatic that you were able to treat them after all the times they treated you. you continued sneaking glances to kazuha, hoping to catch her looking at you as well, but her eyes were locked onto sakura. you turned to sakura and realized she had been talking to you.

"mm? sorry, say that again i wasn't listening." you laughed nervously and rubbed your neck.

"oh i was just asking if you had any preferences like what kind of food you wanted, or if there were any restaurants you were interested in going to."

you shook your head in response. "no, it's up to you guys. i'm not picky." sakura nodded and went back to chatting after you gave a small smile.

you looked back to where kazuha was sitting, but she was gone. you searched the room for her, eventually spotting her sitting at a vanity, mindlessly going through her phone. thinking back, she didn't have any input about food. was she not hungry?

you got up and walked over to her, hoping this was the chance to talk with her one on one and hopefully ask her to go out sometime, just the two of you. she didn't look up from her phone when you stood there awkwardly, sort of ignoring you.

"hi." you were going insane on the inside, your braincells going into a code red as you lost the ability to think of what to say. she put down her phone and made eye contact with you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue.

you cleared your throat. "so... did you not have any food suggestions? where do you want to go?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

"hm. i don't know, why don't you ask kura unnie?" she said while she broke eye contact, picking at a thread on her shirt.

"what?"

"you should ask kura unnie, sure seems like she has a lot to talk to you about." she mumbled the last sentence, but you heard it clearly. you spun her chair to face you directly.

"what's going on? is everything okay, kazuha? you can talk to me, you know i'll hear you out." zuha sighed and leaned back in her chair as she crossed her arms. you pulled up a stool and when you seated yourself, you were a little shorter than her. you put a hand on her knee and gently stroked it as an attempt to comfort her.

"well, she's been hogging all your attention and you didn't give any to me. you didn't even say anything to me until now." she just looked away, embarrassed to have admitted her need for your attention out loud. "but i guess i understand, she's really pretty and all. honestly, i guess i'm.. glad she feels the same." she finishes hesitantly, her words lacking sincerity.

with the way you couldn't understand what she was talking about, it was like she was speaking another language. who feels the same about what? and she just wanted your attention? you blushed at the fact that kazuha flat out said that she was upset you didn't give her attention. she was adorable.

"what do you mean? sakura feels the same? about what?" you questioned.

"don't play dumb, i can tell you like sakura!"

you tried not to, but you laughed. "i do not like sakura, where did you get this from?" kazuha huffed and pouted, annoyed by your reaction.

"you were all over her earlier! you were basically giving her heart eyes." you scoffed at her response, rolling your eyes with a smile.

"heart eyes? all over her? oh please, we had two conversations."

"what about when she hugged you? you seemed to enjoy it a little too much."

"she was squeezing the life out of me, what do you mean?! plus, eunchae hugged me as well."

"well," she thought about another argument, but she didn't have anything else to say. "whatever." she went back to playing with the thread on her shirt, feeling kind of silly because you were right after all. there wasn't anything weird about what you were doing her member, but it still bothered her. just watching you talk to her when you hadn't even tried to talk to her once this entire time affected her tremendously. she felt frustrated with all these mixed feelings.

and you could tell. you saw that she was bothered, and she was even saying it out right that she was upset about your interactions with your other japanese friend. the only thing was that you knew how she felt. "zuha, you don't think you're a tad bit jealous?"

it was her turn to scoff. "jealous? of what? the fact that you like kura unnie and not me? pshh, no way." kazuha frowned slightly because she was, and it was making her say these stupid things. curse her stupid heart and it's stupid feelings.

"oh, kazuha." you lifted her chin, initiating eye contact but she just pouted, scared to look you in the eye.

"i told you, i don't like sakura that way. in fact, it's quite the opposite." she finally gave in and stared into the windows of your soul.

"she is pretty," you observed the twitch in her eyebrow when you said that. "but i think you are the prettiest girl out of everyone in the world." her jaw just fell and she watched the corners of your lips curl up.

"i'm sorry i didn't give you any attention. i know i usually do so i understand why you were bothered. you weren't used to it, were you?" kazuha shook her head, and you smiled as she eased up the tension in her muscles. you just needed to let her know that you understood, that's all.

"how about this, i give you my undivided attention for as long as you want this upcoming saturday, just us. does that sound better?" you offered and she was dumbfounded.

she uncrossed her arms and nervously rubbed her palms on her thighs, feeling the heat of your gaze cause her to sweat a bit. "are you.. asking me out?" you just nodded and watched as kazuha's eyes lit up. she clapped her hands together and flashed her sweet smile, and it felt like you were watching an angel spread it wings for the first time. it was just a beautiful sight to see.

"then yes! it sounds much better." she took the hand you had resting on her knee and held it tightly. you swooned over her touch, enjoying the way she shined. "i don't want any other girls to have you, you're all mine."

you raised one eyebrow at her words which kazuha picked up as you teasing her, and she hit your shoulder in response. you snickered, interlocking your fingers with hers and tugging her, pulling her up to stand. you gave her another smile and brought her back to the girls who were finalizing their choices.

you sat where zuha was sitting previously and pulled her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her waist. the four of them turn to you two and carried on with planning like it was the usual. because it was, it was always you and kazuha, kazuha and you.

everyone knew you and zuha were like two peas in a pod, and it seemed that the only ones didn't were the people in question.

literally took me so long to finish one fic, wtf is wrong with me rn😒

[frenziedfireworks]

Book Exchange

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary : You read quite a risque book next to your best friend and the next few days are filled with lots of tension.

CW : SMUT, f!reader, 18+ Characters, Praise/Degradation, fingering (f! receiving), breeding kink, possessive!seb (if u squint), lots of teasing & cheesy petnames

A/N : I thought of this idea a few days ago and have been working hard on it LMAO. I love the game and have such bad brainrot - if anyone has requests for the hogwarts legacy characters.. send them my way <3

Sebastian and you had been close for a long time. I mean with everything you two had gone through it was only plausible. He was your rock, best friend, and maybe.. secret crush. He didn’t need to know about that though! Besides, you would never want to ruin what the two of you had. 

“You’re staring. What’s wrong?” Sebastian’s voice took you out of a daydream. You shook your head as the boy raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just was thinking about the potions essay.” Sebastian groaned, throwing his face into the couch pillow.

“Don’t remind me. This is supposed to be our break, you know.” 

He was right. For it being Christmas break it didn’t feel as much. All of your professors were going overboard with the homework as if a few weeks off would make your brain go smooth. You had barely any time to read or venture around with the looming thought of essays.

“It is quite tedious. I don’t get why they continue to add even more work.” 

“Beats me. I think they just like to watch us suffer. Either way, I still don’t like them. I’m taking a nap.” Sebastian adjusted himself over the couch, laying his legs across your lap. You smiled as you rested your hands on his limbs, looking at his relaxed face. He was quite beautiful when he wasn’t talking himself up or making snarky remarks. Not that you would tell him that, you would never hear the end of it. 

‘Does dear Y/N really think I’m beautiful? Am I like your little swan, my love’ 

You shuddered at the thought and rolled your eyes. He would. With this time alone, or more so, without Seb bothering you to death you looked around and took out your book. Nobody would catch you this late and it wouldn’t hurt to read.. It made you nervous thinking about if Sebastian woke up and caught you with such a scandalous book but you couldn’t help yourself. You had always secretly loved dirty literature. You’d go into a quaint bookshop where your friend, Agatha, had a hidden section for women like you. The scandalous and degenerative novels. 

His fingers trailed down her bodice, lips making their way down her neck. Their breaths combined as he yanked at the last remaining garments. 

You held your breath. You knew you were finally getting to the good part.

“Darling, you are ravishing. Look at you, such a smart and pretty girl, open all for me..” His hands circled her neck, pulling her ever closer. “Say it. Go on.” She shuddered at his domineering voice.

“Merlin’s beard.” Sebastian grumbled as he adjusted his back. 

You had almost screamed, shuffling your book into your bag. Sebastian was just as shocked, holding his chest as if he had just had a heart attack.

“I think I’ve just died. What in the world did you jump for?” Sebastian breathed out, hand rubbing at his eyes.

You calmed yourself, rubbing soothing circles into his leg. 

“Sorry. You moving scared me, I was out of it.” You gave him a small smile hoping that he wouldn’t pry anymore in his sleepy state. He just hummed and closed his eyes.

“Right. Try not to jump next time I wake up, yeah?” A half smirk made his way onto his face. You only nodded, continuing to fidget for the next few minutes. Maybe reading improper literature in the halls wasn’t your best idea.

—

It had been a few days since that incident and you and Sebastian were out and about. He had decided that going on a walk would ‘clear your minds’ before going back to the hell that was classwork. You had to admit that seeing his nose and cheeks tinge with a lovely shade of red was worth freezing your ass off. 

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence, his eyes wandering across the fields of snow. It was gorgeous but you couldn’t help but think that your view of him was much more of a sight.

“It is.” You murmured, watching as he turned to meet your eyes. He gave you a small smile, one he reserved for moments like these. The calm and kind Sebastian, the unprotected one that he let almost no one see. You liked this Sebastian. It made you feel special. He let you in to see his vulnerabilities and you felt like you could melt away in them.

“It’s getting late, you know. Wouldn’t want to get in trouble getting back after curfew.” His tall frame ushered behind you and weaved his arm around your chest. His head laid against yours and you swore Medusa had turned you to stone. You took a few slow breaths trying to calm your racing heart and finally spoke.

“A few more minutes couldn’t hurt Seb.”

His lips lingered by your ear and his scent engulfed you.

“Trying to get us in trouble? Such a naughty girl.” 

Your whole body lit up in flames. Sebastian was a flirt but he had never said something so brazen before. There was no way in hell he was doing that on purpose, he had to be trying to get a rise out of you or something.

“Oh shut up. You’re one to talk.” Your voice cracked and suddenly your shoes looked very interesting. 

“Heh. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Let’s get back.” Sebastian smacked your back and began walking away without a second word. Your mouth was almost on the ground. You would kill him if he didn’t kill you with his comments first.

—

Things had turned back to normal after your little moment. Well as normal as it could be. The comments he made still lived in the back of your head and got louder as you tried to sleep at night. 

You had tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, dirty thoughts of Sebastian plaguing away. His large and calloused hands making their way down your body. His broad chest caging you against the bed as his fingers yanked at your undergarments. God was it insufferable. You finally got up and looked around the room for your bag. You desperately needed release or something to take your mind off the impurities of Sebastian.

Perfect. 

Your hand pulled at your book and you settled down into bed again. It couldn’t hurt to finish the novel and at least there was no prying eyes while you were alone.

—

There was a bang against the door waking you up from your much needed sleep. You raised your head from the comfort of your pillows with a loud groan hoping it was enough to get whoever it was to go away.

“Sebastian has been annoying the shit out of me for hours, Y/N. I cannot take him for much longer and he has been begging for you. Can you please come take care of your boyfriend?” Imelda’s voice echoed through the dorm halls.

“He isn’t my boyfriend!” You moaned as you got up to get dressed. Leave it to Sebastian to keep you up all night and wake you up early.

“Yeah and I’m not good at Quidditch! Just keep him out of my sight!” She barged away, a few profanities leaving her mouth.

You begrudgingly made your way through the halls of the common room to be met with the puppy dog eyes of your best friend.

“Y/N finally! I was starting to think you’d never wake up!” Sebastian automatically took your arm in his and led you over to one of the empty couches.

“Wish I hadn’t. Wouldn’t have to deal with your ugly face then.” Sebastian mocked offense and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say. I have a busy day planned for us.” 

The boy went over his need for a few potion ingredients, something about losing a bet with Ominis and how you would accompany him to Hogsmeade. You just nodded along, half asleep as he continued to dawdle. 

“So then when I get that all done- Y/N are you even listening to me?” His hand shook at your form and you rubbed at your eyes.

“Yeah, your potion for Ominis and everything. I got it Seb. Let’s just get it over with.” You stretched and motioned for him to get walking.

“Jeez, someone didn’t sleep well. Nothing a few butterbeers can’t cure though.”

—

Half of the day you spent standing behind as Sebastian bought things. He even went and bought a few new sweaters with your ‘much needed approval’ as he put it. It was quite funny seeing him strike a pose or two whenever he tried on a new outfit. In your mind though Sebastian was handsome enough to pull off a garbage bag if he wanted to.

“Now we can go get those much earned butterbeers.” His cheery disposition made you grin as he tugged you along to the Three Broomsticks. You two quickly made your way over to ‘your table’.

“Oh if it isn’t trouble. I was starting to miss you two.” Sirona plopped down two butterbeers and grinned. “On the house today.” She walked away as you both spouted your thanks and got to drinking.

“Today wasn’t too bad was it?” Sebastian asked.

His hair was a bit askew and his new green sweater made his eyes blend with the caramel color of the drink. He was absolutely breathtaking. 

“Yeah, not too shabby. You like pulling me around?” You joked. Sebastian’s fingers brushed against yours on the table and he sent you a look you had never seen before.

“Oh trust me there’s a few other things I’d like to pull you into.” 

Your mouth went agape and it felt like you had just walked across hot coals. 

“You-” 

Sirona interrupted the two of you with a smack to the table. 

“The two of you best leave, have to close early I’m afraid. One of my dear friends fell ill.”

Your brain had barely processed the words before the two of you were being shooed out the door and Sebastian was walking you back to the castle.

“She was in a rush. I’ve never seen her so concerned. I hope everything will be alright.” Sebastian filled the empty void with words but you couldn’t pay attention. The heat along your core still flamed as you took each step. How much longer was he going to keep up this charade?

—

You were having a major sense of deja-vu. Your eyes circled the drapes of your bed as your thoughts ran wild with Sebastian. Again. A plan had to be made because there was no way you could continue to be in his presence with the comments and tension. Would you tell him your feelings? No. Could you flirt back? Not to save your life. Whatever could you do.. You punched your pillow in defeat and got up looking for your book. You rummaged through your bag when something caught your eye. There was a book in there that hadn’t belonged to you. You brought it into the light and your soul left your body.

It was a scandalous novel. A new one that you had not yet read or bought. You peeled the cover open and a card dropped into your lap.

‘You don’t need to read these sinful books to get what you’re looking for. Although it was quite hot to see you do such a lewd thing right in front of me. You’ve got balls. Enjoy this one, yeah? Maybe we can even act it out once you’re done.’

If it was possible to die of embarrassment you would already be ten feet underground. Sebastian had caught you that night and enjoyed it. Who knew how long he had sat there and watched you squirm as you read the words. Not only that but he had the gall to buy you another and write such a cheeky note. Your body hummed with electricity at the thought of reenacting such stories with Sebastian. 

You had a book to read.

—

You practically ran down the corridor stairs in the morning. You had come up with a perfect plan to corner him in his own game. Your mouth formed into a devious grin as you spotted Sebastian. Slowly, you approached him and ran your finger over the back of his neck. His eyes raised and his cheeks were dusted with a sheen of rose. You gave him a casual smile and sat down.

“Morning Seb. Any plans for today?” You asked as you laid your legs across his lap and stretched your back revealing just a tiny bit of your stomach. His grip on your thighs got just a tad tighter. 

“I-Uh no. You have anything in mind?” 

“Quite a few things actually. You game?” You rubbed at his hand, attempting to connect the dots with his freckles. You could hear his uneven breathing from the other side of the couch and that only fed into your newfound confidence. You tapped against his hand again.

“I said are you game or not?” Your voice commanded and his hues widened like saucers. 

“Of course. When would I not be?” He exasperated and dug his nails harder into your flesh.

“Mm.. good boy. That’s what I thought. Come on then.” You couldn’t help but chuckle as you heard the tiny gasp leave his mouth. It wasn’t even seconds before he was in tow following you like a mother hen.

You cackled silently to yourself when you made your way to the front door of the Great Hall and turned. Sebastian had never looked so confused nor dissatisfied in his life.

“I’m starving!” You made your way down to your usual seats and watched as his sulky attitude got worse. His grip on his poor spoon would soon break it if he wasn’t careful.

“Your plans are to eat? That’s it?” His voice was deep and annoyed, dark eyes following the movement of your lips. Seeing him like this made you uncomfortable. Not in a bad way of course, but more so extremely turned on. 

“Yeah? Like I said I was hungry. Thought we could go out and play gobstones-“

“You think you’re fucking funny?” His grip was suddenly not on the spoon but your shoulder, lips lingering on your ear.

“I think I’m fucking hilarious.” You whispered under your breath. That was obviously the wrong move because he ripped at your shoulder, practically dragging you out of the hall.

“Fucking brat. Think you’re funny. I’ll show you fucking funny.” Sebastian grumbled as he shoveled you down the Undercroft stairs. Your core clenched at his snide remark and part of you hoped that he really was angry. Maybe he would finally stop dancing around the subject of you two.

Sebastian’s hand pushed you against a pillar as the other slammed next to your head. He had perfectly sandwiched you beneath him, his dark eyes watching your every move. 

“Not talking much anymore, are you?” His breath danced against your face, nose nudging against yours.

“Kiss me already.” You groaned and Sebastian took action. His mouth was everywhere at once. Dangerous kisses were pressed against your neck and jawline, his teeth rubbing against the flesh enough to leave red marks. He moved slowly as if you were prey, his eyes watching the way you squirmed under his gaze. 

“You’re lucky I want to kiss you. I wouldn’t be giving you it so easily otherwise.” His face melted into your own, tongue prodding its way into your cavern. His hands roamed your body earnestly pulling at almost anything he could touch. Your whole body was jolting from the little touches, feeling as though he had made you anew. 

“Seb-” You moaned as his hands ran beneath your shirt. It was tantalizing the way he rubbed the plush of your stomach, eyes pleading you to take off the garment. You could only nod in consent before he had thrown it halfway across the room. His hues took your form in, tongue wetting his lips. 

“You’re fucking beautiful. I’m going to ruin you.” His hands worked at the hooks of your bra and he raised an eyebrow in confirmation. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came surging from but you moved his hands and trailed it slowly down your body. Part of you wanted to hide but it was too late for that. He had already seen you and besides, you had been imagining this for quite some time. 

“God. Look at you.” Sebastian shoveled his hair back and dove in. His lips circled your nipple, teeth tugging at it just enough to make you yap. 

“Fuck! Sebastian please.” Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued to lap and massage your tits. He looked absolutely sinful making eye contact with you from such an angle. 

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” His hand came down to slap your tit and an equally evil grin appeared as he heard your moan. 

“P-Please. Put your hands on me.” Wanton moans passed your lips as he continued to indulge in his pleasures.

“My hands are already on you. See?” You could practically see his ego soaring as he kneaded your breasts. 

“More.” 

“More? Aren’t you demanding?” Sebastian mocked as his fingers trailed your waistband. He pulled at the soft material and danced on a fine line of barely touching you. He was slow and agonizing as he pulled at the buttons of your skirt, continuously glancing to watch your reactions.

“Sebastian, please. I need you.” Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt getting even more agitated by the second. His hands swatted yours away and quickly stripped away the cloth.

“You’re a greedy little thing. I swear I could’ve thought you were teasing me not even ten minutes ago. Now I have you pliant and needy. Should I really give you what you want?”

Your hands splayed against his bare chest and there was nothing more you wanted to do than to be one with him. A sudden primal desire to be as close as humanly possible and feel his muscles convulse against you. You knew that Sebastian wanted to hear you beg and you would give him whatever he wanted.

“Please. I’m begging you. I’ll be good.” You choked back a moan as Sebastian ripped your outfit off at the seams. Your underwear and skirt pulled away in one swift move and his hands rubbed deliciously at your inner thighs.

“Gonna be my good girl, Y/N? Gonna give me what I’ve been craving?” Sebastian hovered his hand over your core for a few seconds to let his words seep in. Your body yearned for his touch and you couldn’t help the way you bucked into him.

“Yes! I’ll be your good girl.” You practically yelled as his fingers finally dipped through your folds. He hummed in response and leaned back in to kiss you. His teasing had come to a stop when you felt his first digit slowly push into your heat.

“Oh fuck!” Your head fell against the pillar and your arms shook against his back. 

“You’re so fucking tight. I can’t wait to be inside of you.” Sebastian began plunging in and out, his pace brutal. You had thanked Merlin that Ominis was busy because you were sure anyone coming near the Undercroft entrance could hear your screams. You could feel the string in your stomach becoming tighter by the second and Sebastian noticed too. He picked up the pace and added another digit making your eyes cross. 

“Who makes you feel like this?” Sebastian grunted as his thumb rubbed at your nub pushing you even closer to the edge. Your hands gripped to his form for dear life as your orgasm finally hit.

“You! Fucking hell. Sebastian, all you!” Your head rested against his shoulder as he continued to pump his fingers in and out to prolong your high. 

He gave you a few seconds before withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his lips. If you hadn’t just came you were sure you would’ve from the sight alone. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You whispered as he pushed his boxers down and his hard cock slapped against his stomach. The sight alone made you drool. 

“It’s all your fault.” Sebastian chuckled and swiped his fingers across your slit. You jolted in his hold and watched him in a trance as he used your slick to pump his cock. You had never seen a more erotic view in your life.

“I’m gonna fuck the life out of you now. Okay?” Sebastian’s words knocked any air out of your lungs. He was so vulgar and yet you felt yourself convulsing around nothing, wishing for nothing more than to be pummeled by the man.

A small please passed your lips before he was frenzied. He snapped his hips into yours, not even waiting for you to adjust as he got to work. It felt as if you were a rag doll being thrown around with the animalistic pace he set. Every spot within you was on fire and if it kept it up you would explode.

“F-Fuck Seb! So good.” Your back knocked against the pillar as he groaned.

“Fuck yeah. Only I can make you feel like this.” His grip was sure to leave bruises. Not that you really minded. If anything it only added to your pleasure.

“I can feel you tightening princess. Is the little slut gonna cum again?” His wicked words made you gasp and lose your composure. Your body shook as you came, Sebastian still impaling you on his cock in search for his high. You could tell he was close from his unintelligible groans and praises.

“Fuck! Good girl. Take it.” Sebastian’s dark eyes closed shut as he leaned his head onto you. His hot seed filled you up and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing.

Sebastian pulled out of your wet heat, both of you whining in the process. His eyes shot up to yours and he grinned.

“That was so fucking good. I’ve wanted that for so long.” 

You could only laugh and nod in agreement.

“Me too. Does that mean we’re done with the charade of being best friends?” You looked around the room for your top as he hummed.

“Yeah. Reckon my girlfriend deserves a proper date now.”

“I would sure hope so after getting my brains fucked out!” 

Laughter filled the Undercroft as the two of you redressed. Maybe you would read more dirty literature in the halls if it led to this.

[pumpkinbxtch]

heyy! I was wondering if you could do a hc for jason x daughter of Neptune like a beach date and it end with the Neptune girl having a full collection of shells and Jason taking care of her? If that makes sense?! 💗💗

beach day w my baby | headcanons

— jason grace x daughter of neptune!reader

☆ radiostar is playing: sunburn by almost monday…!

warnings: language, as usual I think. a/n: hey beautiful person how you're doing? ofc makes sense so put your sunglasses on girl, we're having a beach day!

Jason couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day than taking you to the beach. Sure, it seemed a bit cliché for a daughter of Neptune, but you couldn’t deny that you missed being near the sea, especially when everyone at Camp Jupiter saw you as just a bad omen. Jason wished it could be like at Camp Half-Blood, where the kids of the Big Three were almost too respected.

You reached for his hand, and he put those thoughts aside. He wanted to focus on you today and have a good time.

For your day at the beach...

Jason carried the backpack with all the essentials, double-checking everything before you left:

- Sunscreen? Check. Maybe it didn’t bother you or him, but he had to protect both of your skin.

- Towels to dry off? Check.

- An inflatable donut? It wasn’t for you, it was for him. He’s a good swimmer, but he wanted to relax too (which clearly didn’t happen).

- And finally, a small net bag.

- water

- snacks

- a protector for his glasses

- a change of clothes for both.

You’d probably drag him through the sand and play with him in the water. Jason held you tightly by the waist, and you smiled in that special way you only did when you were near the water... and him.

He was sweating from the heat and also because you made him nervous. How long have you been his girlfriend? He lost count (okay, he knows exactly, but it’s been long enough for him to be used to it).

He’s a shrimp if he doesn’t protect himself, but even with sunscreen, his face had pink spots.

You took him to a deeper spot with the help of an air bubble, showing him places he could never have seen without you.

Kissing underwater.

Putting sunscreen on each other. Jason always shyly asked when he got near places that might bother you with his hands.

When you were taking a break in the shade on your towels, he would direct a breeze toward you. No heatwave would threaten you.

He kept both of you hydrated.

Then you smiled and reached into the bag for the one thing you begged him to bring: your net bag. “Be right back,” you giggled anxiously and ran off before your boyfriend could say anything. Jason tried to stay put but ended up going with you.

“Look at this!” you squealed, holding up a shell to Jason’s eye level. The comparison was clear because that shell was a shade of blue similar to his eyes. Jason framed the view with his hands.

“Are there shells that color?” You shrugged and tossed it into the net to keep searching until you had a big collection.

Tired, you sat at the edge of the shore, where the tide just touched your toes, and Jason mimicked you. He kissed your forehead and smiled warmly as the sun began to set.

You held the net up, admiring the diversity and beauty of something so simple, then hugged it to your chest, looking a bit sad.

“Something wrong?” your boyfriend asked, noticing your heaviness and thinking you might have hurt yourself.

“Nothing,” you said, standing up and shaking the sand off your legs. “I’m going to put them back where they belong.”

He found it strange. If you’d put so much effort into collecting them, why return them?

“I’m afraid my father will get mad at me for taking something so precious,” you explained, “or that guy Grover will chase me for damaging the ecosystem,” you added with a more genuine laugh.

So, Jason helped you spread out what you had collected. You didn’t feel bad about doing the right thing; quite the opposite.

“All set?” Jason called a few meters away, and you nodded. He noticed you were holding something in your hand and asked with his eyes.

You extended your hand, revealing the unusual shell with the same eye color as Jason. “I know my dad won’t be mad if I take just one,” you said, taking Jason’s hand. He smiled and carried you bridal-style to the showers to wash off the sand.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Hi, darling! Sorry for the bother, first and foremost. I've seen a similar post of yours before so I would like to see ur take on Cruella!Reader x Vil if it interests you enough. Their duo would really be smthng, especially w/ such distinct & contrasting personalities. I would love to see it platonic. Have fun & thanks!

Add a Little more Flair

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

A/n: ackk you’re so sweet Anonnie, I didn’t expect being called a darling (๑>◡<๑) and the fic you might be talking about is Beauty in Chaos! Genre: Fluff Pairing: None (Platonic Vil & Gn Reader) Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards. The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers! Masterlist

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

If there was a dormitory you were most suited for, it was Pomefiore, you just felt at home in the luxurious vibe of it, while in your world before, you were someone who got by and was financially stable enough to buy the latest fashion trends of outfits, in this world you had a tiny bit of problem with that.

With no income to take out from, the thaumarks you’re given could only be used for necessities that could sustain you and Grim, any extras would be used to renovate Ramshackle. You were fine with it of course; however, you knew your worth and hoped that the extra overtime you had to put in due to Crowley’s incompetence would soon be recognized and rewarded. He was fortunate you hadn't filed a complaint.

When you first met Vil, you didn’t expect him to look this divine at all, he was the epitome of beauty! However, you knew that he could use a bit of glitz in his taste in fashion, you would expect someone like him to choose colors that truly highlighted his features, rather than the bland shades that made him blend in with all the "Potatoes."

“You know,” You spoke, breaking the tension that was marinating in the living room of Pomefiore, the reason you were there was because Epel decided to invite you to play cards with him, Ace and Deuce, using some new game cards from his hometown that his grandmother gave him, but didn’t expect that Vil would be around and not doing any housewarden duties outside.

“What is it?” Vil glanced down, surprised by your sheer audacity to stop him from scolding Epel for inviting you and the others without his permission. “You’re gorgeous” you blurt out as you touch the helm of his sleeve “But would it hurt you to add a little more flair to your outfits?” you let his sleeves go. Vil’s eyes narrowed “What do you mean by that?” he questioned further, crossing his arms as his eyebrows furrowed, not expecting you to give constructive criticism on his outfit, especially since all he’s wearing is his dormitory’s robe, what’s wrong with it? , but he’ll bite, he’s curious about what you have to say.

“There’s no rule against adding a personal touch to your uniform,” you said, your hand gently clasping his wrist as you pulled him closer, your eyes fixated on the luxurious silk fabric. “You could incorporate some elegant jewelry,” you suggested, your voice trailing off as you imagined the possibilities. “And how about a stylish fur coat? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” He was growing increasingly confused by your mixed-up words. Did you want him to add jewelry? Wouldn’t that overshadow his face if he wore fancy jewelry or a fur coat? Who are you? Crewel?

“If you’d let me, I’d be thrilled to sketch a design to make Pomefiore’s uniform more lavish!” you exclaim, your earlier composure giving way to enthusiastic fangirl excitement.

“Hey- dude- I don’t think” Epel was going to grab your shoulder, but you ducked down on your bag, opening it and pulling out a sketchbook. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity Epel!” you said, eyes twinkling, “Pomefiore is one of the most eye-catching dormitories I’ve seen out of all the dormitories, it'll be nice if I could find a way to make all of your designs more outstanding”

Hearing that made Vil huff almost proudly, “Well, with a compliment like that” he drawls out, eyes closing as he presses his hand on his head, “If you could present to me a “lavishing” design of an outfit, then you’re free to do so,”

Epel stares at you out of shock, along with your two other friends, even Grim is surprised. “I didn’t expect you to have such a …” Epel tried to find the right word while looking shocked, But Rook popped out of nowhere and finished his sentence. “passionné for beauty?”

“Gah!” Epel squeaks out, while you are busy sketching a quick sketch of your inspiration. “Bonjour” he greets, eyes scanning everyone as he goes beside Vil, who is intently watching. “My, the sketch on the other side shows experience in their work” he compliments you, as his eyes tear off from your book to Vil, “If the outfit they sketch fancies you” he says, as he backs away, creating a bit of distance to fully admire Vil, who glanced at him “Would you consider changing the design of our fair uniforms? Roi du Poison?”

“That’ll depend” he sighs, while he was intrigued that you immediately went to work in front of him, he has an inkling of suspicion that you were related to Crewel in some way, one of the professors that helps him with the creations of designs.

“Here” You shoved the sketch into his hand, and he grabbed it, scanning the piece of work you created, he’s impressed, this looked rather beautiful he’ll give you that, but with how big you made the fur that was wrapped around the host’s shoulder, (which he thinks might be him due to the hairstyle)  you made him look like some kind of beast, which irked him, remembering how Leona is. Overall, the colors that were added were solely complimenting and making the individual dorm robes prettier.

“While I certainly think that the… furs are lovely” he says, looking at you while you look back at him with sparkling eyes, as if you’re waiting for his approval, for some reason, he couldn’t say what he’s about to say to your face, sighing in defeat, he hands you back your notebook. “How about you give me a physical design of this?”

“Really?” you nearly jump as you grab your notebook, closing it swiftly, but freezing up as you stare at him, a nervous smile etched to your face “I… don’t have the materials”

“I know,” Vil said, extending his hand expectantly. A student promptly placed Vil’s wallet into his palm. “That’s why I’ll be sponsoring you for the silk and equipment you’ll need,”

Rook watched the entire exchange with a gentle smile, pleasantly surprised that Vil hadn't rejected the idea outright. Vil was known for his discerning standards and rarely entertained notions he deemed absurd. As Rook tapped his chin thoughtfully and gazed intently at Vil, he wondered if Vil genuinely desired a fur scarf, or if it was a test of your sincerity in your admiration for the Pomefiore Dormitory. New designs were always welcome in Pomefiore, but the housewarden had high expectations for anything that adorned his dorm. As long as they met his exacting standards and were deemed beautiful in his eyes, they had a chance.

“Are you sure about this?” You felt guilty as Vil showed you a credit card, was he going to let you run around with it? It’s a black card too!

Seemingly reading your mind, Vil scoffed. “You’re mistaken if you think I’ll just hand this over to you,” he said, seeing your hand twitch toward the scarf only for it to be pulled away and slipped back into the dark purple wallet. “I’ll be accompanying you to the mall,” he declared. Epel, wide-eyed, gasped, “What?” and quickly went besides you instead of staying behind.

“I doubt you’d know what fabric our dormitory use,” he remarks before shushing you when you were about to speak, knowing that you were about to say the exact fabric that it uses “And even if you do, you don’t have any expenses to create one”

“But-“ he glares at you, effectively shutting you up, he knows you were planning to appeal to him that you can buy the fabric on your own, and while that was what you were planning to do, it wasn’t to max out the credit card, but it’s to avoid burdening Vil.

“I will come with you, no questions asked,” he finishes, turning away, “Also please find an appropriate attire for that, we’ll leave in Friday “As he leaves you stood there dumbfounded, you turned your head to Epel, who looked as shock as you.

“…. I don’t have an appropriate attire to wear for Friday”

“That’s what you’re worried about!?”

The day you were anticipating with Vil wracked your nerves either way, your wardrobe wasn’t exactly befitting you, especially with your will to look as impressive as you are currently, which isn’t as impressive as one thinks.

You only had a few shirts, and some pants that Crowley bought you during his time of vacation the blinding color of bright orange and light blue made your eyes sore, and that design…

You gulp, grabbing it, your uniform’s pants were already dirty, and you would either suck it up and go like this or smell bad, a “pick your poison” type of choice.

“What in the world are you wearing.” Is what Vil said the moment he knocked on your door, expecting a decent outfit instead of whatever monstrosity you decided to assault his eyes with.

“It’s not that bad” you jab, not wanting to look down at all as you tried your best to at least make the colors work but it became a rainbow of disaster instead.

“You’re not going to go out with me in that outfit” he pushes you back in,  as a flurry of protest came out, Grim was currently out with Ace and Deuce, talking about going on a hangout without you as revenge for going to the mall with Vil only. The moment Vil reached your bedroom, you sat down on your bed with a huff, “Surely you’re just creating a mockery of me with how horrendous that outfit is” he said, glaring at the wardrobe as he opened it, only to reveal… nothing. His eyes widen at the sad aura the inside was letting out, it almost looks depressing. “You weren’t just making it up” he droops a bit as you stand up, “my uniform is in the laundry I haven’t cleaned it up” You sigh, feeling embarrassed by the lack of finesse. Vil sighs exasperatedly, offering his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose “I have spare clothing that would look better on you” he extends his hand for you to take easier, which you do, not wanting Vil to come dragging you out.

Strolling back to Pomefiore with his hand on yours, he immediately goes to his bedroom, opening his own wardrobe, which has its own room.

Vil checked on the plastered tags on each outfit, these were what he had worn long ago, surely there was one that would fit your vibe and whole aesthetic, as you watched from behind him, Vil’s attention diverted to a black outfit that would fit your figure, he promptly takes it out, giving it to you. “Here”

Your eyes fixated on the black outfit that Vil pulled out, feeling a magnetic pull on it as you grabbed the outfit, “I’ll try it on” you declared before Vil could even say anything, a faint smile was now plastered on his face as he chuckles “Very well” he liked people who didn’t question his taste, and much more if they understood that what he picked was simple phenomenal, it fits you.  He couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering since this time you didn’t question or debate him with his taste.

Which made him wonder if he wanted your approval?

The moment he walks out of the wardrobe room, you start to dress up, pushing the fabric down, to smoothening the wrinkles off your outfit. To others the outfit might be extreme considering you’re not going to a fancy party, just going to the mall to go on a shopping spree. However, to you and Vil, looking your best no matter what situation it was crucial.

You stared at the huge mirror in front of you, humming while you thought it looked great however something was missing, more specifically… you look around hand touching each fabric as you feel something soft, eyes widening out of mirth as you grab it out of the hanger, your expression beams as you wrap it around yourself.

“A scarf! Perfect!” You squealed out as you looked at yourself, now you look fantastic!

Vil on the other hand was sitting down, fixing his face with light makeup, the fabric had a subtle sheen, catching the light with every movement, and the jacket's sharp lines accentuated his impeccable taste. Complementing the suit was a silk tie in a deeper shade of violet, perfectly knotted and adding a touch of luxury to his ensemble. It fits him, hopefully your unique taste made your body and face stand out as well as his does.

Although, in his mind, when it comes to elegance, both the body, face, and the attire they’d be wearing speak volumes of what kind of person one truly is.

“I’m done” his thoughts were cut briefly as his eyes darted to where you were, he blinked in surprise at how you looked. The outfit you were wearing was perfect, it made you look elegant, as well as the fur scarf that was draped on your shoulders, he didn’t even think that he had one hiding in his wardrobe, and is that…

“Are those some of my jewels?” he chuckles, standing up and walking over to you. As he pushes your hair back, admiring the intricate design of the earrings you picked out. You’ve outdone even his expectations.

You earned his respect, unaware of his admiration for your taste you sheepishly grin, “You don’t mind right?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers as Vil shook his head. “Nope, I trusted my judgment to let you pick your own clothing after giving you that outfit”

He pats your head before stopping himself, not wanting to ruin the hairstyle you picked out for yourself, “I didn’t expect us to both be wearing something extravagant just to go on a shopping spree” You laughed, nudging his arm “Please, the employees might think we’re millionaires” you joked, making Vil laugh with you. “I am a worldwide known model, they’ll know that, for you though,” he hums, thinking about the possible scandal, which he prepared thoroughly for, as he walks over to his phone, grabbing it. “I decided to go to the mall my father frequents,” he adds, tapping his phone as he texts his driver. “My reputation won’t be scandalized with that mall, since it is often frequented by businessmen and ambassadors”

You nod in acknowledgment, excited to go to a mall with such high profiled people around. “Alright, I’m fine with that” You tap the heels of your feet, trying to fit the shoes that you picked out better, you’re pleasantly surprised that Vil almost had all the sizes, man or woman, which is great.

The moment you went out of Night Raven, Epel went to meet up to you, he looked a bit flustered seeing you in such an outfit that it looked almost natural. He was going to check If Vil was going to drag you but didn’t realize that you wanted to do this in the first place, the bracelet you were wearing, the lipstick and light make up you placed on your face fluctuated your prettiness, making Epel look pale in comparison to you. Rook on the other hand, spouted compliment after compliment to you and Vil, how you two looked like partners in crime, Vil’s nose crinkled as he sighs.

“Enough with the pointless compliments Rook, I appreciate it” he stops Rook, who obediently went silent, a small smile on his lips plastered on his face.  “We’re running late, take care of the dormitory in the meantime”

“Oh, Roi du Poison, I apologize for keeping you,” he says as he walks closer, touching Vil’s hand and placing a kiss on it. “Have fun on your trip, I’ll make sure to keep Pomefiore in flawless shape once you’re back”

Vil nods as he opens the door to the back seat, letting you go in first before he does. The driver greets both of you with a good morning before Vil instructs him to drive.

You had a mirror with you as you reapplied a bit of your chipped makeup because Epel hugged you tightly to the point some of your makeup stained his uniform, hopefully, the foundation you used was easy to take off, worried for your friend’s outfit.

During the whole ride to the mall, you and Vil were silent, both busy with your own thing, the driver who thought you might be Vil’s lover started to feel uneasy that he might have gotten it wrong, happy that he didn’t decide to pry into Vil’s life.

After the ride, you and Vil managed to arrive at the mall safely, your eyes once again sparkling as your heels tap on the pristine floor, the whole vibe of the mall screams luxury, with well-known brands from all over the world spreading out. Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and Prada are on the first floor already. “Wow” you gasp out while Vil smiles, no matter how many times he has gone here already, the architectural designs of the building never fail to impress him either way, the mix of nature and intricate designs, it made him feel at home sometimes.

Too bad you’re only around here to buy fabrics for the creation of the uniform you desire. “Where should we go from here?” you asked, eyes tearing away from admiring and back to Vil’s face.

Vil hums as he walks forward, not looking behind since he knows you’ll follow, like a chick to a mother hen. “Since we’re already here” he trails, “might as well buy something for you”

“What?” your eyes widen, buying, here? Sure, you could do that in your world before, but currently, you don’t have a cent to your name as Vil only gave you a dismissive wave. “Think of it as repayment for helping me snap out of my Overblot” he says, hoping that this adventure of yours wouldn’t look like he’s always going to give out charity.

“Also” he adds, staring down at you realizing the stark contrast of your horrendous outfit to the one he recommended you in, “I rather see you in decent outfits than that monstrous combination you had due to your limited wardrobe” “Fair” you said, nodding at that outfit you had to force yourself to wear.

Half of the day was spent with you and Vil idly picking dresses, outfits that would fit you, ranging from what you can wear for outside, inside, formal and others. Vil seemed to have said less about your unique taste, realizing how much you love synthetic fur, similar to Crewel.

“Are you related to Crewel?” he asked since you two recently just finished a shopping spree, with him carrying your bags since he could never let you carry Them, you carried a few bags, but most of it was carried by him, you, who was munching on the parfait you ordered. “No” you flat out said, if you were related to him, he would have given you plenty of outfits instead of leaving you with one uniform and a few other uniforms such as PE pants and shirt.

“Your taste in outfit reminded me of his” Vil hums out, taking a bite of the banana cue desert. “Oh please, if he was truly related to me,” you add, pointing the spoon at Vil, “You think I would have to wear that blinding orange, blue pants with matching maroon colored shirt?”

Vil laughed pushing the spoon down with his spoon “Seriously” he chuckled, hiding his lap using his hand. “You’re hopeless with that outfit, I’m glad I dragged you here”

You smile softly, liking the way that he relaxed around you. You and Vil were like two peas in a pod. After taking a quick break, you grabbed the sketchbook you had out, looking at the fabric you needed and how much you needed. Vil stared at the sketchbook before guiding you up to the last floor, where they sell fabric. “Is this where the fabric for Pomefiore was bought?” you asked, curious if that’s how expensive it would be if that was true, imagining the expenses already made you dizzy.

“Of course, not” he flat out said, making you droop “Then what’s our trip for here?” you complained, unsure if you want to use any other type of fabric if you’re truly set out in changing the form of their attires.

“Fret not” he says rather confidently, “The fabric here is more top-notch than ours,” he says “If you manage to create a fascinating example of your sketch, then I’ll try contributing extra money to have the headmaster let us handle the major changes,” he says, causing you to think about it more deeply. If you could do a good job in this, then your desired outfit will come true!

Nodding to Vil, you went ahead and went inside the store to get the necessary things you need. It only took you about an hour to pick as the employee is ecstatic to see the Vil Schoenheit buy from them. After finishing, Vil was already having trouble carrying the plethora of bags, so you two decided to sit down for a second, as he calls for the driver.

The driver immediately went to aid both of you, sweat dropping when he saw how many bags you and Vil had, is that even going to fit the trunk?

Miraculously the driver managed to get it all in, with minimal struggling, he should get a raise for his hard work as he smiles proudly at Vil, who gives him a tip for his work. “Good job, my father compensates you fairly, yes?” he asked as he went in, the driver pocketing the money as he nodded. “Yes sir, thank you for trusting me in your endeavor,” he said, as he started the car, quite happy that Vil was like his father, nice and sweet.

The moment they reached the Night Raven College’s parking lot, Vil already had a few students called out, specifically Rook and Epel, who was surprised by the number of bags. “Some of them shall be distributed to the Pomefiore students” he states, Epel is surprised remaining as he received an article of clothing, this is… a clothing from Prada?!

You who went out looking pretty as ever went to hug Epel who hugged back, but he just showed you the contents of the bag. “What is this?!” he asked, hoping that it wasn’t your money or you who coerced Vil to buy such expensive clothing.

“I didn’t! that’s all your housewarden’s doing” you teased, ruffling Epel’s hair. While Vil went to speak with the other students, handing them distinctive clothing that he put a lot of thought into buying, the driver went to give you the fabric and designs you had bought.  Carrying it, you walk to Vil. “Vil” you called out, catching Vil’s attention almost immediately, you seemed to struggle carrying the heavy bag so he advised Rook to carry it, which he did without complaining. “Thank you” You were starting to take off the gold jewelry you were wearing since you are planning to go back to your Ramshackle, thinking about how you left it locked all day, plus you wanted to start working on designing.

Vil stops you as he sighs “Just keep it, wear it whenever we go out” he adds before touching your cheek and giving it a pinch “It suits you, get some rest, I’ll be taking my rest as well” he advises, making you smile. “Sure, Good night Vil,” you said as you took off your heels, feeling the sole of your feet throb from all that walking. “Rook, you don’t mind escorting them back right?” Vil said, as Rook nodded, “Of course Roi du Poison” he looked down at you “You don’t mind me right Trickster?” he said softly, you laughed slightly“Of course not,” you said, as you were going to rest for awhile at first, but Epel seemed to have noticed that your legs were starting to hurt, he goes to take his shoes off, giving it to you. “Here, your feet looked bad” he mutters, as you watch him kneel down, grabbing your leg. “Oh!” you jolt at the sudden gentlemanly behavior of your friend, who seemed flustered having to do this. “Thank you, Epel,” you said, after he finished you ruffled his hair making him whine “Hey!” As you bid farewell to the Pomefiore students and the housewarden, Rook was silent throughout the way back to Ramshackle, he stood there, as you checked to see if the door was still unlocked, and to your surprise, It was unlocked, upon opening it you see Grim who was playing cards with Ace and Deuce. “Took you long enough!” Ace glared at you, clearly disdained at the idea that you had to be gone the whole day. “Grim was crying the whole time you were gone” Deuce teased as he placed the +4 uno card down, making both your friends whine and throw the Uno cards down. “I quit!” Ace huffs, clearly annoyed that Deuce was kind of good with this. You chuckle as Rook goes inside, “Bonjour” he greets them once again with a smile, seeing the heavy bag, the trio went to clean the table in order to make way for the bag.

“Merci” Rook says softly, as he lets the bag go. Grim already went to look inside, expecting tuna but all he saw was fabric. “What is this?” he whined as you sigh, sitting down on the couch, and planting your head on the soft pillow. “You were there when I asked Vil to let me design the robes right?” “Yeah” Ace nods, scratching the back of his neck, “I thought you were joking?” he admitted, making you laugh. “That’s ridiculous,” you said, as Rook smiled. “I admire your resilience Trickster” he turns around “I hope to see the fruits of your labor soon” he adds as he waves goodbye, to you and your friends, not wanting to intrude further. You sigh, realizing that you showed your project to Vil way too early, not thinking about the amount of hard labor you’ll have to do, while you’re happy with the outfits he bought you aren’t exactly sure if the payment matches the labor you’ll be doing.

Realizing your little problem as if he’s a mind reader, Ace sighs “We can help you if you want” he offers, making you glance at him, Deuce didn’t seem to be bothered by the idea. “I agree,” he adds “It’ll be payment for helping us on the overblot last time”

Grim who huffed, crossing his arms while he flops his ears “I guess it’s fine by me too”

“You guys…” you smile, jumping on them as you hug them tightly, “Thank you so much” you said, happy that they were friends you could rely on.

So, in a few weeks, you had help, making the workload much easier, the design had to be tweaked and you went to Pomefiore just to measure Vil’s width, height, and length, taking an extra robe for reference too.

You truly made your friends go ragged, Ace looked like he’s on death’s door with how he’s been cutting fabric, and measuring it, while Deuce helped you with knitting, and Grim, whose tiny paws were starting to get tired of holding your sketchbook.

After a whole month of nonstop grinding, you were happy that schoolwork was lenient as well, with the professors busy preparing for other events, and guiding each individual club.

The moment your past sleepless nights finally paid off as the design you created came to life, your eyes sparkled, falling down on the floor, making Ace catch you. “Hey! Careful!” he scolds you, but you just laugh. ‘It’s done” you said, feeling exhaustion creeping into your system, “Hey… Call Vil I’m going to…” before you can even finish the sentence, your vision goes black.

The only things you felt were being carried, placed on something soft, as you drift into sleep.

After a few hours, you heard talking, making you stir up from your sleep. “… the fabric is nice..” you heard as you regained your senses, with Vil already tracing his fingers on your finest creation. You jolt awake, and the sudden sit up made your head ache. “Don’t move” Vil said, noticing you’re finally awake as he walks towards you, giving you water. “You…” he glares at you, eyebrows knitting in frustration. “I never set a deadline” he said apprehensively, “So why in the sevens did you have to push yourself that hard?”

You scratch your cheek sheepishly “Sorry, I thought that if I don’t finish it within a month you would forget” you admit, knowing that Vil’s expectations were high you truly didn’t want to disappoint him.

Vil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose once again when he felt a migraine coming. “You did a great job,” he says, making you jolt cause that compliment was out of nowhere “But if you created the outfit with moderation” he adds, standing up from kneeling to go to your eye level, “I wouldn’t feel guilty for having high expectations for you.

“Wait, do you mean?” you frown, your hard work would go to waste if he disregarded it. “The outfit is fascinating, however, I cannot just implement such a complicated design”

You were close to crying, all that work just for nothing. “However” Vil added with haste “I could wear this in occasion” he said, “Like foundation day, I’ll keep this” It was rare for Vil to stumble over his words, placing a hand on your head, “So, don’t cry, you did great, splendid even” Feeling relief wash over you, you lean to the pat, “Thank you”

[biolumien]

and with it, a gentle place...

pt 3 to the samurai!hoshina fic. pt 1 and pt 2 are here.

notes: happy hoshina episode.

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader i dont think any warnings apply but if there are, please let me know ;-; word count: 1359

as it turned out, being the wife of a samurai was far more boring than you could have ever imagined. your life was largely consumed by general diplomacy and far more paperwork. your husband was gone frequently, often complaining about some kind of diplomacy with the narumi clan. 

it left you with hardly anything to do, in any case. 

or well, you could stare languidly out into the distance. that was something you did quite frequently, staring stormily out into beautiful gardens in tedium. you supposed you could technically throw a fit, throw something at a wall, or start acting irrationally–but that might besmirch your newlywed husband’s reputation for most diplomacy. 

so you settled for your naginata.

you spent most of your waking hours in the gardens of your new home, practicing diligently till your movements became a slow and elaborate kind of dance. as new lady of the house, it was your duty, your responsibility, or so you had been told, to defend the house in case it ever came under attack. and the weakened hoshina clan, with a dent in its beautiful, gilded reputation, may come with no shortage of enemies or people who wanted to take advantage of the rapidly forming power vacuum. 

you doubted any real assassination attempt on the new lord of the house would happen, but you trained anyway. you wondered why, as you slashed downwards in a circle, why you would bother with defending a man who was a total stranger to you. why go to the effort? why exist in this loop of tedium and boredom, with so little reward? for a husband who was so busy in his diplomacy efforts that he couldn’t spend time with you? but then again, why did it bother you that he never had time for you? you’d never wanted to be married to him in the first place!

you lower your naginata, letting the blade touch the floor. 

“so you’re the lady of the house!” 

a voice startles you out of your reverie.

your husband is standing next to a younger man, his eyes widened with excitement. his hair was a startling shade of almost white, dressed in shades of soft green. his obi is a dark purple. 

“you’re getting quite good at that,” soshiro says, stepping down to meet you. his kosode is in a dark purple again, layered with a black kataginu vest over top. he cut an intimidating figure, in any case, and he bows to you with a measured smile. “the naginata, i mean. i’m quite flattered you’re putting your all into this.” 

“of course,” you respond, your voice as sweet as honey, edged with venom. “it’s my duty, of course, as the lady of the house now. who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

“oh, him? pardon my manners.” soshiro laughs, but you can’t quite figure out what’s funny. “this is one of my retainers. ichikawa reno. reno, this is my wife. i told you about her already on the way here.”

“nice–nice to meet you,” reno says, bowing to you. “i wanted to meet you!”

you lower your naginata to your side. 

“why?” you ask. “i mean, pardon me.” you laugh, raising your sleeve to your mouth to hide the smile. “i just thought that most samurai of your stations would not bother.”

“well–even so, i’m not most samurai,” reno says, and you laugh at the absurdity of that statement, fully. his face flushes a little bit, and you reach out to pat him on the head.

“don’t worry about that, ichikawa. i am quite flattered you deigned to introduce yourself to me.” you smile, and reno nods. 

“of course.” 

“now, now, reno,” soshiro says, patting reno on the shoulder. “why don’t you give me and my wife some privacy for a second?”

“okay,” reno says, bowing to soshiro, and then to you before rushing off.

you watch reno leave, a soft huff leaving your lips.

“nice kid,” you say. 

“our families have been allied for generations,” soshiro says, watching reno run off as well. “he has the  weight of expectation upon his back, too, as the youngest.”

“mm. i see. so what is it you wanted to talk to me about, then?” you ask. “you’re so rarely in the house these days, i’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

“please, dear,” soshiro says. “i’m not trying to avoid you.”

you can’t even tell if he’s being honest.

“discussions with the narumi clan grow sour, mostly because i have no stomach for their son, who, coincidentally, also has no stomach for me! can you believe it?” soshiro laughs, raising a hand to push back his hair. 

“... i suppose you don’t want to hear my actual answer.”

“not quite,” soshiro amends. “you have a fairly nasty look on your face.”

“do i?” you smile. 

“hm.” soshiro watches you, staring down at your naginata. “do you want to spar?”

“spar?” you raise an eyebrow. “what would a samurai such as yourself want to do with sparring with his wife?”

“can’t this samurai be curious about what kinds of things his wife gets up to?” soshiro asks innocently, but draws his katana from his belt, unsheathing it and holding it in front of him in a prepared stance. in response, you hold your naginata at your side, ready as well.

“i stare out into your estate’s gardens,” you say. “and sometimes i do embroidery. and other times, i train alone.” and other times, i wish i had taken that dagger and killed you after all–better to have been known for that than to fade away like this. you choose not to say that. 

“i see.” soshiro’s gaze flits for a moment.

“why do you ask?” you say.

“just curious. like i said,” soshiro says. he takes a breath. “but whenever you’re ready.”

as soon as the words leave his mouth, you spin your naginata forward, sweeping the blade downwards. he catches it just barely with his katana, parrying the blow. you realize in a small thrill that you have a farther reach than him–that he has to actively fight to close the distance in front of you. he raises his katana, bearing down hard against the handle of your naginata as you flip it upwards.

“not bad,” he says.

you furrow your brow, pushing him off before you whirl your spear again, forcing his hand to the side.

“it’s been monotonous training,” you respond, whirling your spear for another hit. he deflects it, moving in to strike, but you push him back. 

“isn’t it better, then, that i spar with you? as a skilled opponent?” soshiro manages to close the distance yet again, his face and his blade dangerously close to yours.

“you’re a skilled samurai,” you retort, pushing him away again, but just barely. “i think that’s hardly fair, going up against me.”

“come of it,” soshiro responds, feinting for a second–you move to block, but he swings upwards instead, and you startle backward. “there are assassins aplenty that might try to kill you, and doubtlessly far more skilled than even me. i just want you–”

“you know, i’m getting awfully tired–”

as you step forward, spinning the naginata downwards–you watch as soshiro prepares to parry whatever side blow might be coming next–and then you throw the naginata ever so gently, closing the distance to grasp his wakizashi where it remains at his side. soshiro exhales. 

“--of what everyone says they want for me.” you pull his wakizashi from his belt, unsheathing it. 

it’s silent for a moment, save for your heaving breaths and the sound of birdsong. 

would he let you kill him?

you drop the blade soon after thinking the thought, leaning down to pick up your naginata.

“i think we’ve done enough,” you say. “i will return to my quarters.”

you wonder why your face feels so hot as you turn away. you wonder why you wish he would have lowered his blade and kissed you. you raise a hand to your lips, tracing your bottom lip with a finger. 

you hate the way your heart wants to move for him. 

you do. you do hate it. right?

[dootznbootz]

LOVED the Vengeance saga, hated Calypso's song I'm sorry

**is being creepy and obsessive over a man who's clearly in distress and doesn't like her, as well as she ACTIVELY keeps him on her island for SEVEN YEARS against his will** "W-Well my love is just too much for you"

I get she didn't rape him in EPIC, but she was still terrible towards him and washing down to "her love was just too much for him" is a bit iffy to me :((

Honestly? I think "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" is actually fantastic in showing HOW Manipulative and selfish she is.

She's doing a "Woe is me" with her loneliness, she is still somewhat putting the "blame" on Odysseus with her "My love being too much for you, sorry that you can't handle it", when it's straight up not taking no for an answer, she even constantly speaks over Odysseus. Yeah, she's "not sorry".

Even with her beautiful voice, (wonderful job Barbara Wangui!) and sweet melody, it's like she IS supposed to be this "perfect paradise, song, goddess, etc."

What really bothers me is Epic Odysseus' "I love you...Just not in the way you want me to".

I think there either needs to be more apprehension in his voice when he says that. Maybe even in Calypso's tangent, he realizes "oh shit, she's making the island do shit. oh think quick to calm her down." and then having to say "Not in the way you want me to." to still make it clear that he's leaving.

I hope we get an explanation from Jay for his wording here? Because while Odysseus did appreciate Calypso helping him heal and recover from being at sea without food and water for a while AND most likely injuries in general, like...He Never loved her.

In some ways, I almost wish we got a bit more of the Odyssey for his answer. As Calypso, basically mocks Penelope and "why do you wanna go back to her? She will age and I won't. this place is perfect. I am perfect."

And then Odysseus being like "...You're an immortal goddess, ofc, she can't compare to you. She will age and go old. But I will stop at nothing to get back home. I've already been through so much shit, if it means going home, I can go through more."

[...] But if you only knew, down deep, what pains you’d stay right here, preside in our house with me and be immortal. Much as you long to see your wife, the one you pine for all your days … and yet I just might claim to be nothing less than she, neither in face nor figure. Hardly right, is it, for mortal woman to rival immortal goddess? How, in build? in beauty?” “Ah great goddess,” worldly Odysseus answered, “don’t be angry with me, please. All that you say is true, how well I know. Look at my wise Penelope. She falls far short of you, your beauty, stature. She is mortal after all and you, you never age or die … Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days— to travel home and see the dawn of my return. And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wine-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total— bring the trial on!”

(Book 5, Fagles)

Puttng in Fitzgerald's too because I wike it :3

"[...] If you could see it all, before you go -All the adversity you face at sea- you would stay here, and guard this house, and be immortal- though you've wanted her forever, that bride for whom you pine each day. Can I be less desirable than she is? Less interesting? Less beautiful? Can mortals compare with goddesses in grace and form?" To this the strategist Odysseus answered: "My lady goddess, here is no cause for anger. My quiet Penelope-- how well I know--would seem a shade before your majesty, death and old age being unknown to you, while she must die. Yet, it is true, each day I long for home, long for the sight of my home. If any god has marked me out again for shipwreck, my tough heart can undergo it. What hardship have I not long since endured at sea, in battle! Let the trial come."

Even his usage of just simply defending Penelope by saying "My Wise Penelope" and how he's still saying "Yep! You are a goddess! Penelope is mortal... I'm still going home!"

This is something I find interesting with Epic Odysseus on Ogygia: After he speaks of Penelope the first few times in "Love in Paradise". He doesn't really talk about her on Ogygia again. Even at the ending of "Love in Paradise", when he's about to "close his eyes", he doesn't speak of Penelope or anything. Which is like, his one driving force for living at this point, in the Odyssey and the Musical. He's just wracked by grief, when it's mostly the fact that he's fucking TRAPPED and can't leave to go HOME.

It makes me wonder if for Epic Odysseus, he is trying to not mention Penelope as much to keep Calypso's anger at bay. Especially when you think of how in the source material, Calypso mocks Penelope and he has to carefully word things to not anger her as a goddess yet still make it clear that he will leave. He wants to leave and he doesn't care if there's more shit he has to deal with. He has to try.

Or maybe it's a spell of some sort. idk. Especially as we have Odysseus once more singing about Penelope and how much he longs for her once he's off Ogygia. Just a thought :P

I almost get this weird vibe that Epic is making Circe more of a "villain" than Calypso (which yes. Circe did coerce Odysseus in the Odyssey and was trying to in Epic. I literally wrote a whole essay about it.) But like, in comparison, Circe in Epic is not nearly as bad as Calypso in Epic. Same in the Odyssey. Like Circe DOES eventually become an "ally" after Odysseus begs her to let him leave, Calypso had to be FORCED to let him go. IN BOTH EPIC AND THE ODYSSEY.

idk. funky feelings :/

[lovelykrystal]

🎀 study session ...!

cw ... modern!college au, established relationship, cunnilingus, finger fucking, degradation (term slut used), basically smut w/o plot?, reader uses afab terms, horny appreciation for scaras fingers bc yes <33

synopsis ... scara is studying and finds you having some trouble getting yourself off... so he helps you ;)

just pure smutty indulgence bc im a horny mf. requests are open bc i love hearing yalls thoughts :3 also,, this is the first smut ive written in literal YEARS so im rlly sorry if it's not the best ajhsksjs, hope you degenerates enjoy it just as much as i did writing it tho <3

scaramouche had been studying recently for an upcoming final in one of his classes, his notes scattered across his desk as he looked over all of them. he sighs begrudgingly, why did classes have to be so annoying? he really didn't have a choice however, with nahida having convinced him to attend because, quote unquote, "maybe it could help him make friends". he didn't need any anyways; he already had you. you were enough for him in his eyes.

he had some headphones on, hoping to help him focus on his studies. he heard a few muffled sounds coming from your side of the room, but didn't bother to look over to you as he needed to keep focused. he had assumed you were just on call with one of your friends, most likely venti or someone else he found just as annoying.

it wasn't until he heard a quiet whimper through his headphones that pulled him out of his thoughts, turning to face the white separation wall that divided your areas, put in place so that scara wouldn't be bothered when you had friends over. he stood up out of his rolling desk chair, walking over to the wall as he stepped around the corner, before laying his eyes on your fucked out face, as you bit into your shirt to silent your moans while you rubbed your clit and fucked yourself on your fingers in an attempt to pleasure yourself, but it wasn't enough; you needed his fingers. ever since you first felt them inside of you, your own could never compare.

when you finally noticed his presence, a surprised gasp filled your chest as your cheeks flushed a hot shade of pink from embarrassment.

"I-I thought you were studying!" you spoke almost in a whimper, your voice clinging to a higher pitch as your fingers immediately stopped moving, whining quietly from the loss of pleasure.

"you think I can focus on that shit when all I can hear is your moans from the other side of the room?" scaramouche spoke in an annoyed tone, but the dark lust that flooded his eyes could tell you otherwise. he was going to fuck you properly, make it so that you couldn't fathom trying to please yourself on your own, so you could only be satisfied with his fingers and his only.

"you having some trouble down here?" he spoke tauntingly, as if reading your mind. he stepped closer to your bed, a smirk painting his lips as you shuddered, the sight of him alone making you wetter by the second.

"I bet all you could think about were my fingers, huh?" he teased on, his fingers trailing down your leg to your needy cunt, a breathy sigh leaving your lips as he easily slotted himself between your plump thighs. his fingers spread your pussy lips, ghosting just barely above your clit, waiting for a response from those sweet lips of yours that he just loved to steal the breath from.

"y-yes...," a small whimper leaving your mouth as you spoke, and that was enough for him. his fingers brushed against your cunt while he leaned down to lick your bottom lip, pressing you into an open mouthed kiss as his index and middle finger gently rubbed your clit in tight circles before dipping them into your drenched hole. he ate up every moan and plea that left your lips, enjoying every second of being the source of your pleasurable sounds.

once he pulled back from your lips, he curled his fingers in just the right way that sent a shudder up your spine, arching your back as you let out a moan from his fingers pressing against your sweet spot just perfectly. he laughed softly at the sight, slipping back and leaning his head down towards your wet pussy.

"what, are you that desperate for my fingers, slut?" he laughed to himself, his breath hot against your cunt, kissing it softly before giving it a small kitten lick to see your reaction. a whine of desperation spilled from your mouth as one of your hands shot down to tangle your fingers into his dark hair, your legs threatening to close around his head. he used his free hand to press your thighs back down, looking up at you with a stern look that made you absolutely melt against his touch. he smirked when you easily submitted to him, growing hard in his own pants just from the sight of it. flattening his tongue, he licked a line from your hole to your clit as his fingers continued to busily fuck into your tight walls.

your head fell back against the pillow of your bed, his actions pulling moan after moan from you as your hand in his hair allowed you to mindlessly grind your hips up against his mouth helplessly. sucking on your clit as he kept finger fucking into your wet hole, you could almost feel him smirk against your pussy as you felt the knot of pleasure tighten in your core. he could tell you were close, just as your legs were shaking, your hips stuttering as your orgasm overcame you - a loud, lewd moan drawn from your lips as scaramouche continued to thrust his fingers in and out of your hole to help you ride out your ecstasy. he could almost cum untouched in his tightening pants only from the view of your pretty, fucked out face as you grinded your hips against his mouth, but he had other plans.

as you finished while he lapped up your release, he sat up from between your legs, leaning down to capture you in a kiss, mixed with the bitter taste of your cum on his tongue. he grinded his clothed dick against your cunt, a grunt leaving his lips as he pulled back to finally take a good look at the beautifully lustful mess he had turned you into.

'Fuck studying', he thought, the only thing he was gonna study right now was your delicious body, and he was gonna make you cum on his cock until you passed out tonight...

© lovelykrystal 2023 • do not plagiarize, repost or copy my works.

[mvrdermeharder]

Kaiser-goal analysis part 1:

Okay this has been on my mind for a while and I want to get it out real quick

it wasn’t quick, i’m still editing this TWO DAYS LATER

[This is not the analysis I’ve said I wanted to write about Kaiser’s fucked up relationships, I still didn’t get started on that… But I’ll tag you @fyeahkainess since this “little” summary of Kaiser’s goals has a lot to do w kainess, so I thought it might interest you anyways…]

So, most of the goal celebrations in bllk include players giving each other physical affection, or getting close to each other.

And I guess there’s Rin’s latest goal, which is a kinda-nuts-but-still-strangely-endearing moment where he unintentionally bonds with the other crazies of pxg.

But we also have some strikers who did not get a so called “cute celebratory moment” after their goal: Noa against Barcha, Kunigami against Barcha and Manshine, Chigiri against BM

HOWEVER

These players have only scored once or twice

(Ik chigiri scored against manshine and ubers too, but we did not see the what kind of celebration happened after it)

So then we have Kaiser, who scored one goal in every game, each getting more and more impressive from a technical and difficulty standpoint, and yet… there’s less and less directly affirmative celebration going on after each one

So I’ll try to make sense of that if I can…

First goal:

Everything goes according to Kaiser’s plan,

Ness is the one who assists,

Kaiser is very satisfied with the goal,

The pose oozes confidence, there is an ominous, untouchable quality about it (the strong shading and artistic composition of the panel also helps), it’s hard to imagine anyone trying to approach him for a hug or something

Others admire/acknowledge his talent from afar (Isagi’s and Noa’s comments have the most weight, but other players are in awe as well)

And what we see afterwards is Kaiser getting a high five from Ness -> quick and brief physical contact, which based on Kaiser’s facial expression, only seems like an indulgence to let Ness have something.

Still, Kaiser lets him close, and keeps his body turned towards him in an open, relaxed position. And I would really like to highlight it: Ness is the only one he lets close, even if the other BM players actually contributed to the goal as well (I’ll elaborate on this later)

Second goal:

Everything goes according to Kaiser’s plan,

Ness assists,

Kaiser is satisfied with the goal,

The pose - while still full of confidence and satisfaction - is much less intimidating. I could actually imagine other players getting close to celebrate, he seems far less unapproachable here. It’s the goal itself that gives him that untouchable vibe instead of the pose.

Which is why still, other players acknowledge his skills only from a distance.

Although a high five or other physical contact is absent this time, Kaiser keeps facing Ness and even approaches him. This greatly contrasts with how he keeps his back to Isagi, only turning to him in a cocky manner to tease and belittle.

And it all makes sense: in ch 243 Kaiser says how his goal is “to send all the worlds soccer players to the depths of despair” in ch 261 he expresses that he doesn’t know how to receive kindness, it’s easier to be a target of malice, and that he enjoys being an untouchable impossibility that brings despair.

So of course he doesn’t celebrate his goals with other players. Instead, seeing their shocked face and broken spirit is the celebration itself. That is the reason why he’s so weirded out by Isagi being all fired up instead of hopeless. It’s uncomfortable for Kaiser, who is still on his high from the goal and the reaction it evokes. It’s like a slap in the face that drops him from his happiest state.

He later expresses how Isagi’s behavior when faced with the impossible is not normal in ch 207. We see how it bothers him greatly as it goes against everything that he exists for. So he starts fixating on Isagi even more in the next match, to crush him as to finally feel satisfied and get affirmation for himself. Because seeing others broken after his victory is the only thing making him feel human, it’s the only thing that makes him feel good for once, so obviously, he needs to see Isagi fall in line. In the next game however…

Third goal:

Isagi is the one who starts the play, Kaiser simply steals the ball -> he doesn’t have control over the plans and playmaking,

Ness does not contribute,

Kaiser hates that the only possibility for his goal had to start with Isagi’s plans, it goes against his own esteemed self worth, thus he’s not proud of it at all.

After his goal, we see him obviously pissed off but still holding it together if only barely: his expressions and eyes are mostly covered by his hair, but when we see them they are nothing but furious and frustrated.

While other players are shocked by the impossible goal and acknowledge it - again, from a distance - Kaiser does not take satisfaction from it.

So what we see afterwards is a Kaiser who is doing his best to mask his frustration, with the only one daring to approach being an overjoyed Ness. And well, from Ness’ viewpoint, so far he has has received “affection” when Kaiser is on a high from an incredible goal, and this one was the most impressive and difficult one yet, so obviously they could celebrate this together right? Maybe in a way that lets him even closer to Kaiser?

In ch 243 he says “at some point his dream became mine”, but I think there is much more to this… In my opinion he’s just as exited about seeing Kaiser happier than ever and possibly being allowed to be close to him, as he’s exited about the goal itself. Because remember, we have NEVER seen Ness initiate physical contact. Kaiser is the one does, but only rarely: when he’s feeling the most assured in his existence = after scoring a mind-blowing goal that Ness’ pass sets him up to. (More on all of this later in the post…)

But unlike before, Kaiser does not face him after the goal, he keeps his back to him, and then viciously snaps as he can’t bear Ness voicing out (what he himself considers) as failure.

There is a sharp 180 in Kaiser’s behavior that’s obvious: he does not want to face Ness, only does so to reprimand him, and when he’s done with that (the circled panel above) he immediately turns away from him to face Isagi instead

After he declared how much he needs to see Isagi lose to him, this newest goal only contributed to the opposite of that. So now he feels even worse, needs to bury Isagi and the threat he poses to his existence even more urgently. This takes up all of his attention and focus.

And imo he does not bother to reward Ness with attention for another additional reason: Ness did not assist or contribute to the play. Kaiser only keeps him close so that he could have someone to pass to him and create a path to score. It’s very likely he’s INTENTIONALLY giving the most affection to Ness only after scoring with his help. Essentially love bombing him to encourage Ness’ cravings for making a goal possible, so that he could get to see Kaiser at his happiest, at his most open-to-affection-state. Which all benefits Kaiser.

(Alright I’m sorry, I swear I will post the continuation tomorrow, but this is already so long, and i’m still not finished w putting my thoughts together regarding the fourth goal… Because boy oh boy there are even more stuff to analyze with the Magnus goal…

So rn I’m posting this as a part 1, as I just can’t bear to have it in my drafts any longer)

Edit! Read part 2 here, and part 3 here.

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

TWO | the first life

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.7k SUMMARY: While on a supply run with Aaron, Daryl is eager to learn more about you. Getting pieces of you and your story then propels him to revisit your history to determine the best way to make it up to you. It goes awry when he discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. WARNINGS: Angst. Fluff is only in the childhood flashback. Uses scenes from S05EP16 SETTING: Pre-Negan Alexandria and Pre-Apocalypse A/N: omfg sorry for the late update i’ve been busy taking care of my college requirements and i took driving classes HAHSNDHDHAJA anyway hope u guys like this one

     Daryl Dixon was a man who was wired to function solely on just destination—get to it, do it, and leave it. It confused him that a part of him now ran on motivation. It was not the drive to operate that confounded him, but that he was always eager to return. 

     To you. To see you. 

     And if he’s lucky, maybe even speak to you. It bothered Daryl that the last real conversation you had was the first time you spoke since ever. There never seemed to be an opportunity anymore, and if there was, you always seemed like you were in a hurry or that you were busy as if you had a nine-to-five corporate job you had to tend to.

     He knew you were somewhat avoiding him, whether you knew it or not. 

     Right now, Daryl was focused on one thing—getting food for the community. Coming back to you was a close second. Even as Aaron made conversation, you were all he could think about. How he’d initiate a conversation without starting one. 

     The longer he listened to Aaron, the more he thought of ways he could bring you up: That girl, how’s she been? No, it’s too upfront. 

     “You okay?” asked his friend. 

     Daryl perked up. “Hm? Ah, m’sorry, just distracted.”

     “You wanna ask me something,” Aaron guessed as they kept walking. 

     “Yeah, I… Wanted to ask ‘bout Eric. Er—how is he?” Daryl worried Aaron would catch on, but it was clear he loved talking about his beloved. His enthusiasm for Eric reminded Daryl of your spirit back when he first met you when he was all but six.

     A bright smile broke on Aaron’s face as Daryl opened a wired gate. Aaron’s smile stayed as he talked about Eric. “Says he misses being out here with me. I do, too and…”

     Daryl swung the gate open, entering the deserted courtyard, thinking only of you while Aaron talked about Eric. It wasn’t that Daryl didn’t care—he did, but it wasn’t exactly easy to act like he did when his mind did him a grizzly favor bringing you up every single time. How much older you looked…

     He felt he missed a great deal of your life, and he was hoping he’d get to see more of it now that you’d reunited. If only you just weren’t so damn hard to reach then—

     “You ever felt that way about anyone before?” Aaron asked him as he followed from behind. He could sense the question in Daryl’s eyes. If he knew Daryl wasn’t listening, he didn’t give him too much for it. “Love, I mean.”

     He hadn’t heard of that word in a long time. In fact, he thinks the first time he ever learned of the word was decades ago.

     “That Dixon kid spells trouble.”

     It was your father’s routine to comment on your then next door neighbors whenever he visited you at your grandparents’ home in Georgia. It was usually that specific combination, but it also differed each day. Sometimes, he was talking about the younger kid, while sometimes the older one.

     It mattered to you a lot. You knew them more than just trouble. You were keen on making sure your family never found out you had a crush on ‘that Dixon kid.’ 

     The first time you met Daryl, you were instantly hooked by his eyes. To you, it was the greatest shade of blue you’ve ever seen. You were just settling in your grandparents’ home, saddened to spend your childhood away from your parents as they worked in the city. They figured it wasn’t exactly the best place to raise a child, so they sent you to the scorching land that is rural Georgia, in the safety of your grandparents’ care.

     You hated the Georgia heat, hated that you had to say goodbye to your friends in the city. That is until you saw that charming fella, sporting worn out overalls as he rode his bike away from home. 

     You just had butterflies fluttering in your belly. At first, you thought he had pepper or some sort of dirt just above his lips, but you learned the hard way that it was only a mole, but that’s another story for later.

     Rejection from a crush is usually a direction to stay away. To you, however, you were only more interested in getting close to the much shorter kid. You planned on befriending him first, then riding a horse to a faraway castle to get married second. 

     The first time Daryl met you, he despised you. He loathed you, even. Hated the way you wore your hair in braids and the way you couldn’t take a hint even if he tried. It was on the first day of first grade, only on the way to school.

     He always sat alone by the window in the school bus, his lunch nothing but a juice carton he could fit in his tiny pocket. You had sat down next to the boy, his feet barely enough to reach the floor. 

     “Y’know, you’re gonna starve if you call that your lunch later,” you told him.

     He only scowlded at you in response, ignoring you to watch the world pass by the window. 

     You smiled at him nonetheless. As far as you were concerned, you liked this boy. You knew right then that you would be safe in his company. “I’m [Y/N]. You are?”

     No response. You let that go on for a while—just sitting right next to each other as he watched the small world pass him by, acting as if you weren’t even there. Unapologetically, you touched the surface of his face just above his lips, trying to swipe away the supposed dirt stain.

     “What’d ‘ya do that for?”

     “You have something on your face! I couldn’t just let you go to school with that,” you argued. You could almost see it: the kids laughing and pointing at him all because he forgot to wipe off a stain from his face! You were just concerned is all.

     The boy wiped at his cheek with his hand, only to realize what you were referring to. “Heavens to Betsy! S’just a mole I’ve had since I’s a baby!”

     “Great! We’re making conversation.” You smile at the boy. “You’ve gotta think it’s silly that I know about your mole and not your name.”

     “Not gonna. Yer piddlin’, talkin’ so loud ‘ya could piss off the Pope, actin’ lower than a snake's belly in a wagon rut!”

     You frown, confused at his Southern lingo “Piss of the Pope? Lower than a snake’s what?”

     His frown dissolved. “What, yer not from around here or somethin’?”

     He was relieved to see your smile return, glad to not have pissed you off to send you running back to whichever father you had who, he assumed, probably had a shotgun. 

     “Yeah! I’m from Brooklyn.”

     The boy grunted, crossing his arms. “You’ve got an awful lot to say for someone who just moved.”

     “Oh, I only have this much to say to people I like.”

     “Well, I don’t like you,” he interjected.

     You only smiled as you unzipped your bag to pull out another smaller bag. “Didn’t say you had to, because I can make you!”

     Before he could argue, you tore your sandwich in half, handing one half to him and keeping one the other for yourself to munch on. “Try it,” you tell him.

     “How do I know ya ain’t trynna poison me?”

     Rolling your eyes, you took a bite from the snack. You handed it to him insistently. “I’m still alive.”

     “Yeah, but—”

     “Just try it!”

     Daryl’s never had enough good things in his life that your sandwich appeared to be more of a threat than a peace offering. He was used to getting the shortest end of the stick, or not even any.

     He opened his mouth to debate against it, but he gave in. One bite in and something told you he hasn’t had something quite like it for the past year. You decided right then and there that you wanted to be the one who could put a smile on his face.

     “This—sh’good.” The young boy admitted in between loud chewing. “You made this?”

     “Meemaw did,” you replied, grinning as you ate your own half. “I’ve got more snacks in my bag, if you wanna share them later. But I need to know your name first!”

     The bus came to a halt. It was the first time you looked at him clearly, and him you. “I’m Daryl.”

     That night, he was all you could think of. The blue-eyed little boy who you were determined to make yours. His pretty nose, his funny walk, his everything. You weren’t particularly secretive with your feelings, bringing a sandwich for him after you asked your grandma to pack you two every day. 

     It wasn’t just the sandwiches, though. You’d often pester him, asking if he’d ever want to marry you one day, to which he’d respond with, “Ew, never!”

     “Daryl,” you called to him as he ran away from you, retreating back to his house.

     “What?” he turned back to yell.

     Grinning, you braced yourself for his outburst of anger. You made it a hobby to rile Daryl on your quest to make him yours. “I loooove you!”

     “No!” he spat back, running even faster back to his house. You laughed the entire time, thinking of when he’d eventually wear down and say it back. Little did your young self know, she’d be able to turn the tables around in just a decade. But that’s a story for another time.

     Little Daryl, on the other hand, lay in bed, staring at the ceiling racking his mind on ways he could get rid of you. That day, he was guilty of something grave, something dangerous. Thieves are born once they do the honor of their first theft, and you were just unlucky enough to be Daryl's first victim, having done you the untimely inconvenience of stealing your heart. That day was the first of many lives he would lead.

  ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     “I dunno, I was young. But I guess I did, once,” Daryl said after recounting his earliest memory he had of you: stubborn, ambitious, and determined. “Whatever it was, I screwed it up.”

     “Screwed up how?” Aaron asked, and Daryl wondered if you had opened up about your past to the guy. He wishes he’d brought you up in the conversation earlier on so that it wouldn’t be suspicious for him to suddenly talk about you after he’d just given a glimpse into his history.

     “Drove her away when I drove away,” Daryl said lightly. He was relieved to find a confused Aaron, but more so when they reached a couple of cargo containers lined up in an organized fashion marked with the text: How the harvest gets home. 

     Aaron wanted to ask, but his interest was piqued by the promise of food to take home. They made their way through the gap between the two containers, eager to give it a look. Daryl noticed the two cans hanging by the sides before he followed suit, but he followed anyway. 

     The pair climbed up the short length of stairs, pleased to find more containers.

     “Huh,” Aaron chuckled, enthused about what awaited behind the doors. The can on the door was certainly appetizing. “Woah…”

     Daryl watched as Aaron mused about the container, who bent down to loot his pack for a tool to obtain another license plate, this time from Alaska—K4Z 816, with the subtext ‘The Last Frontier.’ There was definitely something… Strange and unsettling about the place. However, the promise of something to bring back weighed more than the thought of coming empty-handed. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

     “Hey, listen,” Aaron called out, triumphant while Daryl explored the small space enclosed by the containers. “I don’t like giving up either. But… The guy is in a red poncho. You could see him from miles away. We’ve got a lot of miles here, and no sign of him.”

     The lock of the container caught Daryl’s attention.

     Aaron began to walk over to Daryl after getting a new addition to his collection. “We’ve come away with… A trailer full of cans. I’d say that’s a good trip!”

     The pair stopped in front of one of the containers. Daryl bent down to tinker with the lock, eager to get out of there to return to you. “Here you go.”

     The archer was already picturing the many things he wanted to do when he saw you again, and the ways he could approach you. Daryl grunted as he swung the handle open.

     The choice to open the door was certainly a choice, albeit an absolutely fatal one. Wires snapped from all directions as the door slid open upwards. There were no cans inside of the container, no. The pair jumped in horror as they were met by the gruesome sight of the dead, some impaled by a hook and some able to chase freedom. 

     One by one, all of the doors swung open to reveal the very same scene in front of them. The pair dashed out of the scene upon discovering their mission was a total bust. 

     The walkers were already pouring out into the open space, blocking their only way out. Daryl plunged his knife down one of the walkers making its way to him, its groans speaking only of its lethal appetite. Aaron, on the other hand, made a weapon out of the license plate he’d just looted, smashing it against the temple of a walker twice until its head split open.

     “Over here!” Aaron yelled to Daryl, pointing to the space under one of the containers. The archer followed Aaron in a haste and for the first time in a long while, Daryl feared death. 

     He felt his heart beat faster every passing second that the dead clawed their way to them, crawling with an undying thirst for their flesh. He wondered if you’d miss him if he were to die now, if you’d look for him…

     No. There was no way in damn hell he’d die without explaining himself at least twice. That’s right—twice. And even possibly more just so you’d take him back. He’d make it up to you. Daryl stole one glance at the walker crawling towards him with a ‘W’ blatantly itched on its forehead before obtaining a long metal chain as a weapon.

     The troubled pair hurriedly got out of the small space, with Daryl whipped the chain on three incoming walkers, ruthlessly determined to get out of there. He was already drafting a plan in his head: get out of there, get to you, talk to you. He was no longer going to spend more time waiting around for the right time, if there even was such a thing.

     He plunged his dagger deep into the head of the walker that had gotten ahold of Aaron’s bag before running out together. Aaron wasted no time slicing the head of a walker clean with his own machete, eager to be out of there as soon as possible. He did the same for another one coming his way.

     Holy shit, was it terrifying having to push through the walking dead as if it were just a mosh pit in a concert. The two couldn’t even begin to catch their breath as they jumped into the same door of a car, especially as a head of a walker just peeped inside in time when Aaron made to shut the door close. He had to do it multiple times until the head was crushed enough for him to finally close it.

     The shelter of the car was no use, though. Walkers gathered from all sides, clamoring to get inside. They both knew it wouldn’t hold and would eventually give up. For sure, more walkers would be drawn by the commotion, curious to get a piece of what was inside the damn car.

     “Glass will hold for a while, right?” Aaron asked, observing the crowd of hands and brutal groans from the dead on all sides of the car’s windows.

     “Maybe,” Daryl replied, still holding a dagger in his hand. Daryl thought of ways he could salvage this mission for the sake of returning to you. “Maybe we can make it so they can't see us. In a couple hours, somethin’ will come by, they’ll follow it out. There’s gotta be somethin’ in here we can use to block the view.”

     Aaron began to rummage through the compartments. “We can cut up these seats.”

     He only found an eerie warning written on a crumpled sheet of paper in one of the cup holders, stating, ‘TRAP. BAD PEOPLE COMING. DON’T STAY.’

     Aaron showed it to Daryl, who could only think of how damn helpful it would have been three minutes ago. Just like that, he was drained of the hope he could ever return to you. 

     They sat there for a while like that, hopeless. Daryl chuckled.

     “What?” Aaron asked.

     “I came out here to… Not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this feels like me… Than back in them houses. That’s pretty messed up, huh?”

     “You were trying,” he assured Daryl.

     “Can I tell ya somethin’?”

     Aaron nodded. “Lay it on me.”

     “[Y/N]... I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s—er—the one I been thinkin’ of back there when ya asked me if I’ve ever felt it before. I did. I… I thought I’d never even see her again, so I put her in the back of my mind ‘cause the last time I did, I ruined her for good. I thought she was livin’ the perfect life I always pictured for her if I left, thought she was better off. Then I met her and… Shit, I’m an asshole.”

     Aaron sat there, taking in everything Daryl had just told him. You had shared a fair piece of your history to him, entrusting him with a small part of your past you thought you’d never end up facing again. He knew of a first love that broke your heart, knew you have your fair share of regrets and grudges. He just didn’t expect it to be Daryl Dixon.

     “I see.” Aaron only nodded. “She used to be my partner out on these runs, yknow.”

     “Yeah?” Daryl asked, intrigued. He was never able to learn much about you for the past week, having been cautious about who he could and could not ask. “Why’d it stop?”

     “Well…” Aaron sighed, his eyes focused on the unsightly crowd of dead clamoring to break the glass. “I don’t think it’s my story to tell.”

   �� “You don’t think we’re gonna die in here?” Daryl asked with a smirk.

     “Yeah, I don’t. We’re both gonna get out of here and you’ll ask her about it and she’ll tell you.” Aaron looked around the windows. “You’ve got a lot to know. It wasn’t easy for her back then.”

     “Right.”

     “Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own by the barn. Storm hit and you led your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back.”

     Daryl could only give him a hopeless smile.

     “You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in a poncho,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have given up. You didn’t.”

     Daryl licked his lips before pulling out a cigar and placing it between his teeth. He didn’t mind having a heroic end anymore, because it meant earning him at least an ounce of redemption. It would be a sort of repentance for what he’d done to you all those years. “I’ll go.”

     Aaron looked back up to him, confused.

     Daryl had to explain as he lit his cigarette.  “I’ll lead them out. You make a break for the fence.”

     “No, no, no,” said Aaron. “This was my fault.”

     “It wasn’t a question.” He’d made up his mind. Daryl took away the cigarette from his mouth for a moment. “And this ain’t your decision. It ain’t nobody’s fault. Just let me finish my smoke first.”

     Aaron looked at Daryl, and he was sure the archer did not want to die just yet. He wasn’t gonna let that happen to his friend. “No. You don’t draw them away. We fight.”

     And fight they did, braving the outside. It was simply luck that the man in the red poncho happened to be their very savior, and he was just looking for the man that led them to shelter.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

     Any half-sane man should have been concerned with the matter at hand—the crime scene unfolding before him. Rick stood there, blood the main component of his gait, having just executed the community’s only doctor.

     And yet Daryl couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, couldn’t help but stop the questions running in his head: Is she alrigh’? What is she thinkin’ right now? Is she okay? Is she fine?

     When your eyes met his, we raised his brow in question. You only looked down, avoiding his look. You always did that. You’ve been avoiding him. This time, he let it slide. After all, you did just witness a murder.

     For a while after that, you continued to avoid him. He let you. Maybe because he wanted you to, but eventually he grew tired of it. A couple of nights after the incident, he decided he’d take matters into his own hands with you.

     Daryl watched you from below. You were on watch duty at this hour of the night, manning the gates in the event a threat presented itself.

     You were so lost in thought you almost fell off the wooden watch tower when someone offered you a sandwich. 

     “I don’t think ya should be on watch if ya didn’t even catch me climbin’ up here,” the archer said, his hand outstretched with a wrapped sandwich in hand. “Made it myself.”

     “Sorry, I was just…”

     “Avoidin’ me?” he asked.

     “What?” you asked back with a nervous laugh that faded into silent confession. You took the sandwich, scrutinizing it with a nostalgic burn in your chest. This has happened before, but you didn’t want to ask him about it or bring it up in any way at all.

     Daryl looked into the distance, the night sky with a lot more stars than he could recall from when he left. “Stars are brighter nowadays, huh?”

     You’re grateful he was kind enough to give you a break from the subject. But he wasn’t trying to change it. He was just thinking of the night he left… “Light pollution’s gone down, so… Yay apocalypse?”

     His gaze returned back to you, and you wanted to beat yourself up for feeling that familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach like you did back when the only thing you felt for him was love. “Ya ain’t gonna try it? S’gonna get cold.”

     “How do I know you’re not gonna—?”

     This time, Daryl took the bread from your hands to take a bite. “Poison ya? I’m still alive.”

     You took the sandwich with a laugh. “I was gonna say drug me into liking you.”

     “Don’t need drugs for that.” Daryl gave you that same old damned smile he did, and suddenly the air smelled like the leather seats of your parents’ car that you stole. You held his stare, but you refused to return the smile. 

     “I should go,” you told him, shoving the bread to his chest as you rushed down the ladder. You heard Daryl’s frustrated and confused grunt while you were hurrying down. 

     By the time you got down, Daryl was just close behind. “[Y/N|,” he called out calmly.     “Goodnight, Daryl.” You felt the tears prickle in your eyes. You refused to face him, you just felt the fire in your legs propelling you forward, pushing you to run home. It was all so familiar, everything he did. You hated the way you felt so stupidly attached… You were an idiot. You’d give in, and everything would just go like it did back then.     “[Y/N],” he called out once more, this time with the slightest hint of indignation. He just wanted to talk to you so he could say his piece, would that be so bad? “Stop, damn it.”

     You heard his footsteps getting louder and closer just as he grabbed you by your wrist, purposeful yet so gentle like he always was whenever he touched you back then. Your heart was beyond just beating quickly. You were sure it would eventually break through your bones and run free.     You didn’t even realize your face was wet with tears until Daryl wiped it off for you. You were seventeen all over again, crying to him and asking him to take you with him if he was going to leave. You were nine once more, crying yourself to sleep after moving away. 

     “I can’t,” you utter out.     “Can’t what? Tell me.” His eyes were hungry for answers, but you didn’t even know either. You just knew you couldn’t stand to see him anymore. It broke your heart, because you thought that if you would ever run into him again, you would be okay. That you would have moved on, and you could remain civil. So many words you wanted to tell him. 

     You swat his hand away. “I can’t keep talking to you just because you’re here. I can’t—can’t keep pretending that you’re—you—that what happened for around thirty fucking years ago is no longer bothering me, because I know damn full well that it is and it always will! And you being here I… I just… I can’t!”

     “Ya want me to go?” he asked, gentle as ever.

     “No, Daryl,” you said, out of words you could say to even come close to saying what it is you felt. “I just… I just wish you never left.”

     So many explanations, and yet it was all reduced to you pushing him away. You just needed to get out of there.     And that should’ve been the end of it. Daryl respected your preference for isolation. That really should have been the end of it for at least that night. He stood there, his heart half-broken. He just decided that maybe he deserved it, that he was stupid for thinking he deserved even another chance.

     As Daryl watched you walk down the street away from him, he decided he’d give you more time. As much as you needed until you were—

     In the short distance, you fell to your knees. Daryl halted in his tracks, his brows furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were doing. Even though your back was to him, he could make out that you were doing the same habit he was used to seeing you doing, only this time, your back was heaving up and down.

     God, he didn’t need to see anything else anymore. He was already on his way the moment he felt something was wrong. His mind raced with so many terrible scenarios he refused to verbalize. 

     “[Y/N], what’s wrong?” he asked, worried as he knelt down in front of you. “What’s happenin’?”

     “I—” Your mouth was locked shut from the static that spread from the tips of your fingers all the way to your jaw. It was cold, and it was burning hot. 

     You felt Daryl scoop you in your arms without question, and you let him. You heaved short, heavy breaths you couldn’t begin to catch. You felt and heard your heart in every direction, beating as if it was taunting you. 

     “...Bringin’ ya to Denise,” you heard Daryl say over the racing pace of your deafening heartbeat. You shook your head, the static finding that safe spot of yours, too. 

     “No, I—please—home—don’t—Denise,” you managed to say in between the uncontrollable hitches in your breath. 

     Daryl shook his head, slowing down as he tried to think of the right thing to do. But he felt your fist tighten its grip on his vest in request.

     “Please. Now—Now, Dar—Now.”

     You felt him caressing your hair with the gentlest of touches, just as you remember it. You felt him whispering soft promises against your ear, but you couldn’t make any single word out of it as everything went pitch black…

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