#i'll get back to the pride requests i just wanted to draw this
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heartswithinreach · 9 months ago
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your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:
can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol
LaDS casually carrying MC
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Xavier
The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.
And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on �� metaphorically and literally.
You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."
You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.
You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.
Rafayel
"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"
He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.
Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.
"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."
When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.
Zayne
“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”
Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.
But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.
He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.
Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."
Sylus
Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.
Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.
Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.
However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.
"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."
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rootedinrevisions · 7 months ago
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What's Mine
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SUMMARY: After months of secretly seeing each other, you and Tyler find yourselves caught between professional boundaries and personal desires. When a flirtatious rival pushes Tyler's jealousy to the surface, he claims you in a way that leaves no doubt about your relationship status-to you or anyone else.
A/N: sorry that these requests are taking so long! I appreciate everyone's patience as I try to juggle writing with Thank you to the person who sent the request for this one in. This one came from the prompt “I’m not the jealous type, but what’s mine is mine.” I've had this one mostly done for a while (like a week or so) but the scene at the end just wasn't coming together the way I wanted it to. But I think I'm finally happy with the final result. Hope you like it! xx
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Cursing (I assume, I'm not positive though). Smut (P in V, Unprotected)
WORD COUNT: 5.4k
TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS
If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!
The bar was alive with energy, the hum of conversation and laughter mixing with the low strains of a country tune from the jukebox. Boone, Dani, Dexter, and Lily were engrossed in a heated pool game, their competitive banter rising above the noise. You and Tyler had claimed a small table near the edge of the room, tucked away just enough to let you watch the chaos unfold.
Tyler sat back in his chair, nursing a Budweiser. His long fingers tapped idly against the glass bottle, his eyes scanning the room with the kind of quiet intensity he always carried. You were close enough to feel his presence, that steady, grounding calm he exuded without even trying. But far enough apart to not draw suspicion from the rest of the team.
Your drink was nearly gone, and you stood, brushing your hand lightly over his shoulder. “I’m getting another. You want one?”
He glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, darlin’.”
You nodded and made your way toward the bar. It was busy, and a line was forming as people crowded to get the bartender’s attention. You leaned against the counter, letting out a soft sigh as you waited.
“Hell of a storm today, huh?”
The voice came from your right, smooth and friendly. You turned to find a man standing beside you, his elbow resting on the bar. He was tall, with a confident grin and a storm-chaser logo stitched onto his jacket—a rival team.
“Yeah,” you replied, keeping your tone polite but neutral. “Definitely one to remember.”
“Bet you’ve got some good footage from it,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned in slightly. “You’re with Owens’ team, right?”
You nodded, not bothering to hide the pride in your voice. “That’s right.”
“Lucky guy,” he said, his gaze lingering just a little too long. “I mean, you guys have a solid team. And... well, looks like you’re not just good at chasing storms.”
You raised an eyebrow, your smile tight. “Appreciate the compliment.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement—Tyler. He was still at the table, but his body language had shifted. His posture was no longer relaxed; he sat forward slightly, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer bottle. His sharp green eyes were locked on you, his expression unreadable but intense.
The man at the bar didn’t seem to notice. He continued, his voice low and smooth. “If you ever get tired of running with Owens, maybe you should give our team a shot. We’ve always got room for someone like you.”
You let out a dry laugh. “Thanks but I’ll pass. I’m pretty happy where I am.”
The man didn’t back off, his grin turning slightly smug. “Well, if you ever change your mind—or just feel like grabbing a drink sometime—”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” you cut him off firmly, turning back to the bar as the bartender handed you your drink.
You glanced over your shoulder toward Tyler. He was still watching, his jaw tight, the muscle ticking in his cheek. His eyes flicked briefly to the man beside you before returning to yours. There was no mistaking the tension radiating from him.
You gave the man a polite nod before stepping away, leaving him at the bar as you made your way back to Tyler.
As you approached, Tyler’s gaze never left you. He set his beer down, his fingers drumming once against the table before he stood.
“Everything good?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it—a quiet undertone that only you would catch.
“Fine,” you replied with a small smile, though you couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugged, his expression neutral, but his eyes gave him away. “No reason.”
You took a sip of your drink, watching him over the rim of the glass. His attention briefly flicked past you, toward the bar where the man still lingered. Tyler’s jaw tightened again, and he looked back at you, his gaze steady.
You raised an eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “You sure? Because you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
Tyler didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back as he leaned in. “Let’s dance,” he said, his voice low and firm.
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Dance?”
“Yeah,” he said, already guiding you toward the dance floor. His hand stayed on your back, the contact warm and steady as he maneuvered you through the crowd.
The dance floor was dimly lit, strings of lights crisscrossing overhead and casting a warm glow over the couples swaying to the music. The song was slow and soft, a welcome contrast to the energy of the bar. Tyler stopped just at the edge of the dance floor, turning to face you.
“Here?” you asked, feigning nonchalance even as your heart gave a little leap at the intent in his eyes.
“Here,” he confirmed, sliding his hands to your waist.
He pulled you closer, the motion smooth and confident, and suddenly the crowded bar felt a lot smaller. You placed your hands on his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the soft, worn fabric of his flannel. The scent of him—faint cologne, beer, and the outdoors—wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment.
The two of you moved together, the rhythm of the song dictating the slow, deliberate steps. Tyler’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against the hem of your shirt where it met your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your back, keeping you pressed against him.
But there was something in the way he held you tonight—something different. His movements were just a little firmer, his grip a little more possessive. You felt it in the tension radiating from him, in the way his eyes stayed locked on yours.
“You’re tense,” you teased, tilting your head to study him.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little too even, his expression unreadable.
Your lips quirked into a small smile. “You sure? Because you’ve been glaring at the bar like it owes you money.”
That earned a soft huff of laughter from him, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, his gaze flicked past you, just for a moment. Curious, you glanced over your shoulder and spotted the storm chaser from earlier still lingering at the bar, his eyes darting toward you and Tyler on the dance floor. When you turned back to Tyler, his jaw was tight again, his green eyes darker than usual.
“Oh my God,” you said, the realization dawning. A grin spread across your face. “You’re jealous.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “No, I’m not.”
“You so are,” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “You’ve been staring him down ever since I got back.”
Tyler’s hand on your waist slid a fraction higher, pulling you tighter against him. His voice dropped, low and rough. “I’m not the jealous type,” he said, his eyes locking on yours, “but what’s mine is mine. And I didn’t like how he was looking at what’s mine.”
Your breath caught at the intensity in his tone, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily. “What’s yours?” you asked, your voice light but laced with challenge. "Not sure I know what you mean."
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand slid up your back, his other hand combing up and his thumb brushing along your jawline. The touch was intimate, deliberate. “You know exactly what I mean,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.
You smiled, though your heart was pounding. “Do I? Because last I checked, there’s no label on this... whatever this is. We’re just keeping things casual, remember?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement breaking through his tension. “You’re pushing your luck.”
“Am I?” you countered, tilting your head as if to test him. “Because I’m thinking maybe I’ll let him buy me my next drink. He seemed nice. Even offered to let me ride with him if I want.”
Tyler’s grip on you tightened, his jaw clenching visibly. “You better watch that mouth of yours,” he warned, his voice low and steady, “before it gets you into trouble.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Leaning in closer, you let your hand rest on his chest, your fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his flannel. The touch was casual enough to appear innocent, but the way his eyes darkened told you he didn’t take it that way.
“What kind of trouble?” you asked softly, your voice teasing but edged with genuine curiosity.
Tyler’s lips twitched into a small, almost dangerous smile. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “If you keep running that little mouth of yours,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “I’m gonna take you against the nearest surface I can find. And trust me, darlin’, I’ll make sure everyone—including him—knows exactly who you belong to. So unless you want us both taking a ride for indecent exposure tonight, I'd suggest you knock it off.”
A shiver ran down your spine, his words leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you could recover, the song shifted, transitioning into a faster tempo. Tyler pulled back, the satisfied glint in his eyes unmistakable as he saw the look on your face.
He grinned, spinning you out in a smooth twirl under his arm before pulling you back against him. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn’t help but smile despite yourself.
And then, without warning, he dipped you low, his hand steady at your back as he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was firm and unapologetic, a silent claim that left no room for doubt to anyone looking.
When he pulled back, his hand still cradling your back, you blinked up at him, your breath uneven. His gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
“So,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Are you done being a brat, or do I need to make things even more official?”
You laughed softly, your hand sliding up to the back of his neck. “I don’t know,” you teased, still catching your breath. “I kind of like seeing you jealous.”
Tyler’s hand stayed firmly on your back as he guided you off the dance floor, weaving through the clusters of people. You were still reeling from the kiss—your lips tingling, your heart racing. His confidence had left you breathless, but there was also something grounding about his presence, his solid grip on you as though letting go wasn’t an option.
As you reached your table at the edge of the bar, Tyler pulled you into a quieter corner where the music softened to background noise. His hand lingered on your waist, his thumb brushing idly over your hip as if staking his claim.
“Subtle,” you teased, leaning against the wall. “You think that was enough for him to get the message?”
Tyler’s lips twitched into a small smirk, his green eyes glittering with amusement. “Don't care. I wasn’t doing it for him,” he said, his tone low and deliberate.
For a moment, you forgot the noise of the bar, the crowd, and even the guy who had been flirting with you earlier. All you could focus on was Tyler—his steady gaze, the way his hand still rested on your hip, and the unspoken promise in the way he stood so close to you.
“So, what was that all about then?” you asked, tilting your head, your voice softer now.
Tyler leaned in slightly, his free hand bracing against the wall beside your head. The proximity was intoxicating, his warmth seeping into your skin.
“I told you,” he murmured. “What’s mine is mine. I don’t care who knows it.”
Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “But we're still not official, though,” you pointed out, your tone teasing.
Tyler exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t let up, do you?”
“Not when I want something,” you shot back, your eyes glinting with challenge.
Tyler pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand resting on the side of your face as he caressed your jaw. “You want official? Fine,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk, but his eyes held something more—something tender.
Tyler leaned in, his forehead brushing yours as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Call me whatever you want—boyfriend, lover, or just Tyler—but as long as you call me yours, that’s all I care about.” His thumb traced the line of your lips, and the weight of his words settled around you like a promise.
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, fierce and tender all at once. He kissed you slowly, his mouth lingering over yours, as if sealing the words he’d just spoken with a kiss that spoke louder than anything else. His hand cradled your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.
Tyler’s lips pulled away from yours, but his forehead stayed pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes, that mischievous spark returning to his gaze. He traced his thumb gently over your cheek, as though savoring the moment.
“So,” he said, a teasing smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, “was that official enough for you, or are you gonna make me actually say it?”
You tilted your head, matching his grin, letting your fingers lightly graze the back of his neck as you gave him a playful challenge. “I think I kind of want to hear you say it,” you teased, your voice soft but laced with amusement.
Tyler sighed dramatically, his eyes rolling with mock exasperation, but it was clear he was enjoying this little moment just as much as you were. He leaned back slightly, a chuckle escaping him as he gave you a mock-serious look.
“Darlin’,” he began, his voice dripping with affection and a touch of humor. “Will you please be my girlfriend?”
You burst into laughter, the sound light and carefree, as Tyler grinned at you, clearly pleased with himself. His hands found your waist again, pulling you closer as his lips quirked upward.
“See?” he teased, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. “I sounded ridiculous, didn't I?”
You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. "I don't know...I kind of liked it,” you replied, a hint of sweetness in your voice. “Thank you. I know you probably think it was stupid, but it was nice to hear.”
Tyler leaned in, brushing his lips over your forehead in a soft, affectionate kiss. “Darlin', I'll do whatever makes you happy. If that means saying it, then I'm happy to do it,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer again.
Your chest tightened at the honesty in his tone, and for a moment, all the teasing and banter fell away. This was real—so much more real than you’d expected it to be when the two of you started this quiet, undefined thing.
The moment hung between you, charged and intimate, until the sound of laughter from your team broke the spell. You glanced over Tyler’s shoulder to see Dani and Boone watching you from the pool table, their expressions ranging from amused to downright smug.
“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” you said, your lips quirking into a small smile.
Tyler turned to follow your gaze, his hand dropping back to your waist. “Good,” he said simply. Then, louder, so the rest of the team could hear, he added, “Yeah, we’re together. Anyone got a problem with that?”
The table erupted into laughter and a chorus of good-natured teasing, but no one seemed surprised. Dani shot you a knowing look, and Boone raised his beer in a mock toast.
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you turned back to Tyler. “You're as subtle as a freight train,” you teased.
He grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against your temple. “You love it,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
And he was right—you did.
As the night eased into a comfortable rhythm, the initial teasing about you and Tyler began to fade—well, mostly. The team had always been a tight-knit group, and now that the two of you were officially “out,” it seemed like fair game for them to poke fun.
Dani was the first to pounce, sidling up to your table after winning yet another round of pool. She leaned her cue against the wall and smirked. “So, is this why you always rode shotgun with Tyler on every drive?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.
Boone joined in, raising his beer. “Oh, I get it now. ‘I’ll navigate.’ ‘I’m the best with maps.’ Sure, that’s why,” he said, making exaggerated air quotes.
Your face burned, but you couldn’t help laughing. “I am good with maps,” you said defensively, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
Dexter, usually the quiet one, chimed in with a rare grin. “Guess that explains all the ‘extra stops’ you two needed on those long drives. Thought it was weird how often you needed coffee breaks.”
You groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “Oh my god, you guys are impossible.”
Tyler, on the other hand, was taking it all in stride. He leaned back in his chair, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, the very picture of smug confidence. “Jealousy’s a bad look on y’all,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk.
Dani rolled her eyes. “Please. We’re not jealous. Just annoyed it took you this long to admit what we all already knew.”
Boone nodded in agreement. “Seriously, the way you two looked at each other—like a damn Nicholas Sparks movie. We were just waiting for the dramatic kiss in the rain.”
Tyler grinned, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”
You shot him a look, though you couldn’t hide your own smile. “Interesting is one word for it,” you muttered, leaning into his side despite yourself.
As the team’s attention shifted back to their game, you stole a moment to glance up at Tyler. His green eyes met yours, and for a second, the noise of the bar faded away. He gave you a small, almost private smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat.
When it was finally time to call it a night, the group began gathering their things. Dani slung her bag over her shoulder and paused by the door, looking back at the two of you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, lovebirds,” she called out, her voice carrying over the music. “Try to keep it down tonight, okay? Some of us would like to actually get some sleep for once.”
Your cheeks went bright red as the rest of the team burst into laughter. “Dani!” you protested, your voice high with embarrassment as you hid your face in Tyler’s shoulder.
Tyler, however, was completely unfazed. In fact, he looked downright pleased with himself. He tightened his arm around you, giving the group a lazy grin. “No promises,” he said, his tone teasing but dripping with that cocky charm you both loved and hated.
The laughter grew louder as you groaned again, playfully smacking his chest. With his arm still wrapped around you, Tyler guided you out of the bar, his hand resting securely on your hip as you stepped into the cool night air. The laughter and teasing from your teammates still echoed in your ears, but you couldn’t stop smiling.
“Think they’ll ever let us live this down?” you asked, glancing up at him.
Tyler chuckled, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Not a chance,” he said, pulling you closer. “But as long as I’ve got you, I don’t really care.”
You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked toward his truck.
The drive back to the motel was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional murmur of a country station playing on the radio. Tyler had one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily on your knee, his thumb idly brushing over the fabric of your jeans. Every so often, he’d glance over at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth like he couldn’t help himself.
But your mind was racing, and as much as you wanted to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his touch, you couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in. Was what happened back at the bar real, or was it just Tyler getting caught up in the moment?
When you pulled into the motel parking lot, the tension was still simmering beneath your skin. Tyler parked the truck, turned off the engine, and hopped out, coming around to open your door like he always did. You followed him up the stairs to your room, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back.
The second the door clicked shut behind you, you turned to face him. “So…” you started, your voice careful, testing the waters.
Tyler paused, halfway through pulling his flannel shirt off. He tilted his head at you, a playful smirk teasing his lips. “So?” he repeated, his tone light.
You crossed your arms, shifting on your feet. “What happened back there… at the bar,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “Was that real? Or are you gonna wake up tomorrow and tell the team it was all some big joke? Just you messing around for some laughs?”
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you regretted saying anything. But then Tyler stepped closer, his flannel discarded on the back of a chair, leaving him in just his plain white t-shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways.
“Darlin’,” he said softly, his voice steady, “do I look like I’m joking to you?”
You glanced up at him, searching his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you saw was certainty.
“I meant every word I said tonight,” Tyler continued, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you a step closer. “You’re mine. And I don’t care who knows it.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice. “But… you said we needed to keep things low-key,” you reminded him, though your voice wavered.
“That was before,” he said simply, his thumb brushing along your side. “Before I realized how much I hated watchin’ someone else try to take what’s mine.”
The possessiveness in his voice sent a thrill down your spine, but it was the tenderness in his eyes that made you melt.
“Tyler…” you whispered, but whatever you were going to say next was lost as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
It started slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment. But as you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, it deepened, his grip on your waist tightening as if he couldn’t get close enough.
Tyler walked you backward until your legs hit the edge of the bed. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, the curve of your jaw—each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours.
“Does that feel like I’m jokin’?” he murmured, his voice rough and low.
You shook your head, your fingers still tangled in his hair. “No,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.
He grinned, that familiar cocky charm flashing through for just a second. “Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again.
The kiss deepened as Tyler pressed you back onto the bed, his hands trailing down your sides with a possessiveness that sent shivers through you. His touch wasn’t rushed—no, Tyler Owens was deliberate, savoring every moment as though he had all the time in the world to prove his point.
When he pulled back, his lips were swollen, his hair slightly mussed from your fingers. The sight of him like this—raw, unguarded—made your heart race. He sat back on his knees, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt. He tugged it up and then peeled it up over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hands roamed your bare skin, his touch warm and grounding, but his eyes were what made you feel like you were the only person in the world.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice roughened by desire. His thumb traced along the edge of your bra, just barely brushing your skin. “All mine.”
His words sent heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. Tyler leaned down, his lips brushing the column of your throat.
“Every inch of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, “belongs to me.”
He kissed his way down, his lips teasing, his hands skillfully finding the clasp of your bra and unhooking it with ease. As he slid the straps from your shoulders, his gaze was reverent, almost awed.
“My girl,” he said, his voice low. His hands moved to your waist again, hooking into the band of your jeans.
As the cool air hit your skin, you bit your lip, trying to stifle the sound that threatened to escape. Tyler noticed immediately, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet yours. His head tilted slightly, and his lips curled into a smirk that sent a wave of both heat and embarrassment through you.
“None of that,” he said, his voice firm but teasing. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, coaxing it free from your teeth. “They all know now, sweetheart. No need to hide.”
Your eyes widened, and you gave him a look that was part incredulous, part exasperated. “Tyler, we can’t …what if we get a noise complaint!”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich as his hands slid down to rest on your hips, his thumbs tracing slow, maddening circles.
“I don’t care about a noise complaint,” he said, leaning down until his lips were barely an inch from yours. “The team knows. Hell, everyone at the bar knows. But now…” His smirk widened, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “Now it’s time every chaser in this motel knows who you belong to.”
“Tyler,” you started, but before you could get another word out, his mouth was on yours again, silencing your protest. His kiss was commanding, his hands sliding over your body in a way that left no room for doubt about his intentions. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes blazing with something primal.
“Now,” he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin. “Who do you belong to?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could, he shifted, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. His tongue flicked against your skin, and the combination of his touch and his words sent a bolt of pleasure straight through you.
“Tyler,” you moaned, his name spilling from your lips before you could stop yourself.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, that infuriatingly smug smirk firmly in place. “That’s right, baby,” he said, his voice like a low growl. “Say it again.”
You glared at him, your face heating with both embarrassment and arousal, but the challenge in his eyes only spurred you on. “You,” you said breathlessly, your voice trembling with need. “I belong to you.”
His grin softened slightly, turning into something warmer, something that made your chest ache. He leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, and when he pulled back, his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you close.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and the possessiveness in his voice was tempered by an unmistakable tenderness.
As he kissed you again, deeper this time, your earlier doubts and insecurities melted away. Tyler wasn’t just claiming you—he was showing you, in every touch and every word, that he meant it.
Tyler’s hands moved over your body with a slow reverence, his touch igniting sparks wherever his fingertips lingered. The playful smirk that had been on his face earlier softened into something else—something deeper. His eyes locked on yours, his gaze steady and intense as if he wanted to commit every detail of this moment to memory.
He finished undressing you as he slid your panties agonizingly slow down your legs, letting them fall away as his hands brushed your hips. The air felt charged like you were both standing on the edge of something bigger than either of you could name.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice husky but carrying a weight of sincerity that made your chest tighten.
Your hand found its way to his face, fingers brushing the sharp line of his jaw. “Tyler…” you whispered, but you couldn’t find the words to finish. The look in his eyes—unwavering and full of something unspoken—was undoing you.
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your temple, and then the tip of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, slow and deliberate. His hands framed your face as he kissed you fully again, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away.
He shifted, guiding your body beneath his as he shed the last of his clothing, his movements unhurried but purposeful. The heat of his skin against yours was electric, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that had your heart pounding.
Tyler paused for a moment, his weight braced above you, his forehead resting against yours. His hand brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. 
“I need you to know,” he said, his voice low but steady. “This isn’t just…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “This isn’t just about wanting to fuck you. It’s more than that.”
Your breath hitched at his words, the raw vulnerability in them wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you pulled him down into a kiss, your lips conveying everything you couldn’t put into words.
When he finally started to push inside you, the moment felt like time had stopped. His movements were slow, measured, as if he were afraid of rushing it. This wasn’t like the other times you’d been with Tyler before. Every time before had felt like it was just physical. Practically ripping clothes off of each other and hot and heated kisses him getting inside of you as fast as he could.
But this time…this time his touches were just a little softer. His kisses were just a little deeper. And the way he was holding you, like he was cherishing you made you swoon.
As he moved with you, his hands roamed your body. He murmured your name like a prayer, each syllable dripping with affection. And when your hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging slightly into his skin, he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips lingering as if he couldn’t bear to pull away.
You couldn’t stop the small sounds that escaped your lips, your body responding to his in ways that felt like second nature. But it wasn’t just physical—there was something so much deeper in the way he held you, the way his hand laced with yours, fingers intertwining as though he needed to feel connected to every part of you.
It wasn’t long before the tension building between you both crested, your body trembling in his arms as your climax washed over you. Tyler held you close, whispering soothing words in your ear. When he followed moments later, his face buried in the crook of your neck, the quiet groan that escaped his lips sent another shiver down your spine.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breathing the only sound in the room. Tyler finally shifted, rolling to his side but pulling you with him so that you stayed nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as though letting go was not an option.
He pressed a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there as he murmured, “I meant it, you know. You’re mine.”
You looked up at him, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “And you’re mine,” you said softly, the words feeling like a vow.
His lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your back. “Damn right, I am.”
As you lay there, tangled together in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the moment settled over you. This wasn’t just another night, another stolen moment of passion. This was the start of something new—something real.
And as Tyler held you close, his breathing evening out as sleep began to claim him, you couldn’t help but think that for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly as it should.
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snowballseal · 8 months ago
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Guard Dog AU - Zayne
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Summary: AU where you are the Foreseer, and Zayne is a human you've given your blessing to who has devoted his life to staying by your side, protecting you, and worshipping you. He would do anything for you. Anything.
Word County: 2744
Note: Sooooo, I went a bit feral with this one... Could be interpreted as very sub-like behavior for Zayne, but I feel like we all know this man just wants to worship his partner. So yah. I'll be writing similar au's for the other guys too, but this one might be my magnum opus.
Coming soon: Sylus / Xavier / Rafayel
Warning: Gets a little, spicy at the end, but mostly by implication. Reader likes to touch Zayne's face a lot. Someone calls Zayne a concubine and you get pissed.
Enjoy!
---
“Kneel.”
You stare, features a mask of icy indifference, at the human envoy wavering at the foot of your throne. They shiver in their thick coats, no material warm enough to keep out the biting cold of the Tower of Thorns. The biting cold of your glare.
Yet, still, they don’t kneel. You can see the hesitation on their faces, the pride flashing behind their irises. Humans. They always come, high and mighty, thinking themselves better than you, a demigod.
Your lips part, a scathing reproach ready on your tongue, but you don’t get the chance to correct their insolence.
“I said. Kneel.”
Zayne slams his staff into the polished, white granite. The sound of it echoes all the way to the far halls of the tower. The thinly veiled threat behind his words is unmistakable. Kneel before I make you.
The humans all crumble under the weight of his command. They drop to their knees, one by one, trembling at the pure contempt burning behind his gaze. Contempt for them and their human greed. They don’t even deserve to gaze upon the threads of your robes, let alone kneel in your presence, yet they think themselves above it? You may have mercy on their kind, but Zayne would rather cut them to their knees than allow them to show you such disrespect.
A faint smile ghosts across your lips. With the barest flick of your fingers, Zayne returns obediently to your side. He drops gracefully to one knee, head bowed, eyes locked on the unblemished edge of your robes.
It’s almost amusing, watching him turn so docile, so small for you. A man who conquers you in height and strength, who holds himself with the regal poise of royalty, who you’ve blessed with powers no man can dream of - a submissive guard dog at your feet. Ready to kill if you desire him to. Willing to die for you.
“Foreseer-”
Your smile falls away. Right, the humans. Eyes icing over once more, you turn your gaze to the envoy, regarding them with disinterest.
“What do you want, that you’ve come all this way and disturbed my peace?” Your voice rings like a delicate chime, but carries the bite of a frigid river. 
The one who spoke - a man dressed in expensive looking furs, his skin covered in a layer of sweat - flinches at the sharpness of your tone. He seems to steel himself for a moment, collecting whatever pathetic bravery he has gained from his comfortable life, and looks up at you with a determined glare.
“We’ve come here for a prophecy, Foreseer,” he starts again, voice muggish and demanding, “Our kingdom has experienced prosperity in the passing years and our king would like to be certain that it will continue.”
Zayne tenses beside you, his fingers tightening around his staff. You can see him fighting the urge to put this man in his place, his jaw drawing so taut it almost looks painful. Letting out a low hum, you reach out and brush your fingers through the dark strands of hair. A silent request. Zayne wavers, his breath faltering as all his attention falls back on you. 
Always on you. 
Your touch is gentle but insistent, your delicate fingertips tracing his temple, his cheek, his jaw. It leaves his skin tingling, pleasant and cold. It’s an addictive feeling and he can’t help but yearn for more. Zayne nuzzles into your palm, pressing his lips to your skin in reverent gratitude when you give him exactly what he wants, your fingers brushing more firmly against his face.
An uncomfortable cough breaks the silence, “Foreseer-”
“I heard your explanation,” you interrupt him sharply, a wave of frustration washing over you. Zayne can feel it, feels his own frustration at having your attention drawn away from him. But he doesn’t dare make that known, instead watching your face attentively as you speak. “And I will remind you that my prophecies will not be bound to your expectations. They are bound to nothing but fate, so I advise you to deliberate on what you are asking of me.”
“Our King simply wants to ensure that our prosperity will continue,” the man insists, as if you’re the fool who is missing the point. He levels you with a look of disdain, his eyes not so subtly darting to the hand you now have resting in Zayne’s hair. “Though I am certain now that our Highness would not care for the words of a mere oracle who keeps a concubine as her guard.”
The air in the chamber goes deathly still once the words leave his mouth.
Your eyes narrow at the man, glacier and even, but he keeps his chin held high. The rest of the envoy all shift, sharing uneasy glances between themselves. It seems even they know that what he said was a foolish mistake.
One should not anger a god so carelessly.
Slowly, deliberately, you stand from your throne. A flick of your hand and your own scepter appears from the air, the Creatio Protocore glinting dangerously from its tangle of wood. All eyes fall on it, a mix of fear and greed, all eyes except for Zayne’s, which remain glued to you.
Every step you take, every subtle movement, is controlled, the utter definition of grace. Even the air bows to you, shivering around your form, any remaining warmth fleeing from your presence. Tendrils of ice spread along the granite, creeping up the walls, covering the windows, turning the room into a prison of your anger.
And Zayne can’t help but watch, transfixed, adoration curling in the depths of his being. Because this is you, his goddess, his queen. He may be your guardian, but he is well aware that his title is by grace alone, and not necessity. You’ve never needed him. Not like this.
“You seem unaware of whom you speak to,” you murmur, patience tested and gone, “So let me remind you.”
The man lets out a yelp as ice suddenly grips his boots. You feel a flicker of satisfaction at the panic in his eyes, his confidence disappearing like a leaf carried away by the wind. His companions scatter back, looking on in terror as the ice travels up his legs, encasing the entire lower half of his body.
“I am the Foreseer,” you say, stopping a mere foot away from him. “The demigod of the Tower of Thorns. This is my domain, my home, and you are a pest. I owe you nothing. I owe your king nothing. As far as I am concerned, he is beneath me.”
“You insolent- He is our king!” The man spirts, turning a drastic shade of red. “I demand you show him respect, you despicable wi-”
A dagger presses deftly to the man’s neck and he goes silent, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.
“Be silent,” Zayne snarls, “How dare you speak to the Foreseer in such a way.”
You glance at him over the man’s shoulder, brow flicking up. Any other time, it would warm your heart to see Zayne stand up for you, and you would gladly let him cross the boundaries of his position, to act as he sees fit. To act freely. But in this moment, all you can feel is the rage boiling in the depths of your soul. It’s your turn to show them their mistakes.
So you click your tongue, eyes narrowing, “I did not ask for you to intervene, my dearest.”
Zayne doesn’t miss the sharp disapproval in your voice, his breath catching somewhere in his chest. How thoughtless of him. Dagger slipping back into the sleeve of his robes, he forces himself to step back, head bowed like a wolf bearing its neck submissively.
“I apologize, my lady.”
You don’t offer your forgiveness, only giving him a stiff nod, and Zayne can feel his skin prickle with unease. Every fiber of his being aches, desperate to earn your affection, to please you, to offer an apology you deem sufficient.
If you want him to grovel, he will. If you want him to beg, he’ll do so until his voice gives out. Even if you want to punish him, he’d take it with such deep affection, because anything from you is more than he deserves.
But until you ask anything of him, all he can do is wait.
And currently, you must deal with the nuisance in front of you, even if you can feel Zayne’s laden eyes locked on you so intently.
“Now let’s talk about your king, shall we?” You muse, turning your attention back to the man. He swallows, regret showing in the way his hands tremble so viciously. “You humans have such a twisted view of power. Whether it’s money or prosperity or health. You are all subject to fate and that is why you hate my prophecy. Your king is no different, and I presume he’s looking for someone to blame when your land inevitably falls into poverty. In fact, I feel confident in saying he already sees it coming, and I would wager that he is the sole cause of it. Am I wrong?”
A low murmur spreads among the envoy. The man goes nearly purple in front of you, face tight with indignation, but he doesn’t dare utter a word, not with the looming threat of Zayne’s blade still nearby. 
You don’t need him to confirm what you already know, though. And you’ve had enough of this messing around. The day has been too long, and you desire nothing more than to rest.
“Tell your king that this mere oracle wishes him well in his remaining time on the throne,” you chime and turn to walk away. Your voice carries on over the clicking of your heels, “However short that time might be.”
“You can’t-! Foreseer!”
“See them out, my dearest, and then meet me in my quarters.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Foreseer-!” The man calls again, but Zayne doesn’t even allow him another glimpse at your figure. He’s lost that honor.
“I believe it’s time for you to leave,” he snaps, and breaks the spell of your ice.
The man immediately tries to make a run for you, desperation carved into every line of his face, but Zayne catches him by the collar of his coat and throws him back towards the rest of his party. His eyes set on them, harsh and cold, a sneer pulling at his lips.
“She has dismissed you. I suggest you leave quietly before you test my patience.”
“I will not listen to the orders of a-”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see a sigil carve into the air before a blinding light fills the space. The humans flee from the sudden ice clawing at their feet, voices tight with panic, boots slipping against the granite in their desperation.
A faint smile pulls at your lips as you dip into a hallway. Zayne always has been good at scaring people away.
It’s a quiet venture to your room at the top of the tower after that. The howling gale outside is all you can hear, muffled by the thick stone of the tower’s walls. It’s a somehow comforting sound, soothing some your prickled nerves.
Still, you feel tense as you settle on the edge of your bed. Dealing with the humans always does this to you. That’s why you ended up here, in the desolate, snowy mountains, far from any village or kingdom. Dealing with them is too exhausting.
How many humans have come to you, begging for an audience, only to throw themselves into a rage after you share one of your prophecies? A prophecy you can’t control, you can’t change. Yet they always blame you. 
You can hardly be blamed for resenting their kind.
All of them except Zayne.
Your dearest. Your steadfast peace. The comfort of your isolation was no match when he came to your tower.
And your frustration melts like snow in the springtime when he appears at your door, wavering at threshold. Hesitation furrows his brow, his fingers twitching against the frame. Features softening, you gesture for him to enter.
“Come here, my dearest,” you murmur, tone impossibly gentle.
He hesitates for only a moment before sweeping across the room, reaching you with only a few long strides. You watch as he kneels at your feet, the thick fur of his robes gathering on the stone floor around him. And of course you notice the way his lips press together so vehemently, like he’s biting back something.
“Please speak, darling.”
Zayne’s eyes flutter shut, a shuddering breath passing his lips. You always say the term with such sweetness, such tenderness. It makes him feel dizzy and near breathless, loved in a way that makes his chest ache.
“May I touch you?” He asks, voice a low rasp.
You don’t even have to think to answer, “Of course you may, my dearest.”
With all the care in the world, Zayne gathers the edge of your robes in his gloved hand, drawing the silken material to his lips. His touch is reverent, like even the clothes on your body are deserving of worship. He takes his time, showering each fiber with devout affection, eyes slowly trailing up the material to gaze at you through ebony eyelashes. And you can’t help the way your breath falters so easily for him, always taken aback by the desperation, the hunger you find there.
Something dark glints behind those mottled depths at the sound. Slowly, experimentally he presses closer. When you don’t correct him, his fingers brush questioningly against your ankle, the warmth of his skin seeping through the leather of his gloves. And you’ve never been one to deny him.
Parting your legs, you let Zayne settle between them, your knees bracketing his wide shoulders. His fingers trace adoringly up and down your leg as he nuzzles into your clothed thigh, like a pup starved for affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath, even through the thick material of your cloak, and it makes your usually sharp mind spin.
“Please forgive my earlier thoughtlessness, my love,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing insistently against your inner thigh. “I will accept any punishment to atone for my actions.”
Gods, you never thought you would be so weak for one man. But how could you not be? How can you not crumble under such earnest devotion?
You’d freeze the world over if it meant having him forever at your side.
“You have quite the tactic for coaxing me to forgive you,” you breathe, reaching a hand down to trace through his hair. Zayne immediately leans into your touch, molten eyes soft with feigned innocence.
“I am simply a humble servant, unworthy of your favor, my lady,” he hums, eyelashes fluttering when your grip tightens momentarily in his hair. It’s only then a mischievous smile reveals itself on his lips. “How can I coax a goddess such as yourself to do something against your will?”
“You know full well what you’re doing, dearest.” You lean down, until your cool breath ghosts over his skin, sending a shiver through Zayne’s body. His bravado slips away, replaced by an uneven breath, his lips parting ever so slightly. “And there’s no need for it. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours, and that includes my forgiveness. All you ever have to do is ask.”
“You shouldn’t offer such things so lightly, my lady,” Zayne rasps, fingers pressing tightly into the softness of your leg as he forces himself to glance away. “You underestimate how selfish my desire for you is. I would take everything if you allowed it.”
Suddenly, your touch is on his chin, drawing his face back to yours, until he can feel the brush of your lips against his, taunting and delicate.
“If you want everything,” you challenge softly, gaze unwavering, “then take it.”
Zayne inhales sharply. And then his lips are on yours, kissing you so deeply, so tenderly, like he wants to draw the very breath from your lungs, like you’re the only one who can sate his hunger burning inside of him.
And you let him. You let him take everything he desires, because he always gives you everything you could ever desire.
That is how it has always been between the two of you. And that’s how it will always be.
---
This felt pretty different from what I usually write. I was inspired by an Xavier fic I read sometime back, and I just loooove the concept of truly feral levels of loyalty. And I love the idea of reader being just a feral for him.
Can't wait to write Sylus' 😉
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i-willstealyourtoes · 1 month ago
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Hello! May I request some headcanons of the defense classes of TF2 (Heavy, Engie, Demo; or any of those if you do less characters) with an artist! Reader who really loves them and makes the 'merc' their muse? The relationship could be either one sided or just be romantic, up to you!
Thank you, your writing is really cool!😭
Omg thank u sm for liking my writing :') I try my best!! Also I wasn't really sure what to do for the relationship, so I left it a little vague; hope you like it !!
Muse!Defense classes x Artist!Reader
Heavy
- Heavy is very surprised that someone wants to draw/paint him, let alone frequently
- "Heavy is... Flattered. Will be happy to be... 'Muse' for you."
- At the start, he feels a little awkward, almost flustered when you sit near him and start to sketch
- He freezes up, unsure if he should stay still or keep doing what he was doing
- "...should Heavy move?"
- But after you let him know what you're doing and what he should do, he'll relax (a little)
- And when you show him the first drawing of him, he feels the proudest he has been in a while
- "You make Heavy very handsome! Is very true, no? HAH!"
- From then on, every time he catches you drawing, he feels a sense of pride and his chest puffs up
- If you'll let him, he's more than happy to flex his muscles/one of his machine guns for you, a big grin on his face
- If anyone asks to be your muse instead, Heavy is quick to interrupt
- "Little (Y/n) want me, me to be muse. They draw me well."
- It's hard not to develop a little crush on the man, okay?
- Whether you're obvious or not, Heavy isn't stupid, he can tell when you start to fawn over him
- Yet again he's very flattered. And a little confused.
- He doesn't think he's ugly or anything, but really?
- He's especially confused if you're significantly younger than him (you'd like an old man like him)
- He isn't sure what to do about it, after all it's not like the man gets out often
- But whether he likes you back or not, it's still the highlight of his day just to have someone admire him like this :)
Engineer
- Engineer doesn't think he's ugly either (he knows his worth okay), but that doesn't stop him from blushing at the idea of being your muse
- "Me? You really want this old man to be your muse? Well, shucks, how can I say no?"
- He too, feels a little frozen at the beginning, but he'll try to force himself to act normal if he spots you sketching him
- He gets a bit more flustered if you ask him to pose; he doesn't know what to do with his hands and all that, you'll have to tell him what to do :')
- When you show your first piece with him, his eyes light up as he scans the art top-to-bottom
- "Well I'll be... This is amazing, (Y/n)! I don't know how you do it-!"
- He too, feels a sense of pride at the feeling of being your center focus, but he won't start flexing like Heavy. He might fix his posture or lift his head though :)
- He'll probably get a little shy if someone walks in while your getting him to pose, his cheeks flushing subtly as one of the mercs (or Miss Pauling) look at the two of you with a raised eyebrow
- If you'll let him, he'll stick up all the art in his workshop, and when he needs some mood boosting/motivation, he'll look at all the work you've made for him :)
- He can almost definitely tell when you start to like him in a more-than-friendly way
- He definitely has had admirers before, but this time it's a co-worker...
- He's not sure what to do, but he definitely does find it amusing to watch you fluster when he intentionally flexes or flashes a teasing grin and a wink at you
- It makes him feel like he's still got it :')
Demo
(Gang I tried giving him an accent and I think I failed HORRIBLY. I tried okay Scottish people feel free to execute me rn.)
- Demo, if anything, suggests first to be your muse if you mention looking for one
- Although, he says it more like a joke than a genuine request
- So when you take him up on that offer, he's a little surprised.
- "Of course ye want me to be- Wait, really?"
- But don't get me wrong, he would love to be drawn by you.
- He'll quickly defend your choice to others (ex: Scout)
- "I don't think you'd want him to be your muse thing.."
- "How no? I'm a better choice than you, wi' yer wee skinny legs an' aw."
- Anyway, even if you don't want him to, Demo will be posing. With no shame either it seems.
- He's been painted before, so he knows how to stay still for a period of time (he won't pass out, unlike what the others assume)
- But if you want a candid piece of him, you'll have to tell him to stop turning to face you with a cheesy grin
- "Sorry, sorry, jus' thought you'd like to see my beautiful smile."
- As soon as you finish it, he will immediately take it with wide eyes
- "You drew this??? Right the now???" (do... do Scottish people say this?)
- He keeps it close to him, a bashful grin on his lips
- Yes, he will almost definitely gloat in front of the rest of his team
- After he's done showing off, he'll definitely keep it on the wall of his bedroom or something similar !!
- If he notices that you've started to develop a crush on him, his already inflated ego would almost burst
- He thinks it's quite funny (not that he's making fun of you) that you get flustered or bashful when he gets a little too close or starts to flirt a little
- "Aw, whit's wrong? Yer all red!"
- Unlike the others, I think Demo would probably hold on to the feeling of adoration a little longer than needed before telling you his thoughts
- He just loves the feeling of someone appreciating him so much :,)
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banj0possum · 1 year ago
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Alistair x (platonically) Teen Reader
In the fic he is like oh my god a bride, he walks in and instead of an adult..or a bride-
They find a teen, who literally threw a pebble at him, an angsty teen💀
I’m very happy to read ur fics and usually pair them with teen/child mc because I find it funny because they expect the love of their life
and teen mc standing there :🧍‍♂️
anyways sorry for the long request, luv ur writing, and ur art :D
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Yandere! Evil King x Teen! GN! Reader
CW: platonic relationship, Alistair is a bit of a DILF so do with it as you will, Dads are hot you guys!! READER IS A MINOR.
👑 Who is this sassy lost child?
👑 His minions kidnapped you while you were on a carriage ride back to your kingdom.
👑 He was hoping for like a princess or something to marry and take over the kingdom with or whatever so like...what tf he gonna do with you???
👑 Clearly you were too young to be in a situation like this, but theres no way he's giving you back without a reward, so yes he still holds you for ransom.
👑 "Child, I am Alistair, King of-ACk!"
👑 Did...did you throw a pillow at him?!
👑 "How dare yo- AHK! Stop it!" another one..
👑 You refuse to listen to anything he says, you just wanted to go home
👑 You two had a bit of rivalry for a bit. He hated you and you hated him.
👑 He promised not to show any affection or care towards you since in his eyes, your actions didn't deserve it. How can someone be so rude to a king !?
👑 But he starts to notice you don't eat much. He never sees you in the dining hall and has only seen quick moments of you nibbling on some bread or pastries the servants gave you.
👑 He scoffed, so irresponsible! You must eat a proper meal right this second or you'll starve!
👑 You're surprised to see a meal prepared for you during your routine trip to get a snack from the pantry with a note on the plate.
👑 "Next time, ask for a proper meal. I don't want your parents to think I've been starving you. -Alistair P.S. go to bed early."
👑 Huh...
👑 Alistair smiled from the doorway of the dining hall, watching you eat up with a smile on your face. You might have been too scared of him to ask for food so you've been sneaking snacks while he wasn't looking.
👑 Of course he wasn't doing it because he cared about you, he just didn't want royalty like you to resort to such pathetic means to eat!
👑 Why are you still sad? Perhaps he should get you some things to keep your attention..
👑 He asks (threateningly may I add) about your hobbies or interests.
👑 The next morning your cell (which has been upgraded to a lovely room in the castle because he didn't want you to be filthy and gross in a dungeon) was filled with anything he could find that he thought you'd enjoy.
👑 Don't think he wants you to be happy! He's just tired of seeing you sulk everywhere!
👑 He denies everything, but you swear you could see a tiny smile on his face when you hugged him happily.
👑 You start being a little more open to him, showing him anything you've made or done with pride and he'd receive it gratefully, but he won't show it of course.
👑 "I made you this friendship bracelet!"
👑 "I've seen better jewelry."
👑 "Oh I'll take it back then I guess.."
👑 "No, it's mine now, back off."
👑 Drawings and the like that he said would be thrown out as soon as you left would be seen framed in his room
👑 It would be a..waste of good canvas..
👑 And of course he buys a few books of your choice for you to read, he'd be damned if your brain turns to mush.
👑 Bro bro he'd be the type to let you swing around while holding onto his bicep.
👑 If you ever have any problems, or come to him in a bad mood, he'd have no idea how to help other than to sit down and listen to your troubles.
👑 He's not the most physical when it comes to affection, but you bet your ass he's gonna do everything he can to cheer you up.
👑 At this point he's rewriting his demands for the ransom. Either your kingdom lets him sign some adoption papers or he's starting a war.
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amoeganism · 9 months ago
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HIIII I just saw your post about your event and thought I'll be silly and request smthing ^_^ ok sooo first time meeting ness ! 😯 (one shot or hc whichever you feel more comfy writing! <3) have a great dayyy (⁠^⁠3⁠^⁠) ♪
ACADEMICALLY SMART BUT EXTREMELY STUPID alexis ness
aka. how u meet ness aka academic rivals to lovers but ness dont gaf bc hes just trying to #play #ball
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you meet him at quite a young age and share a few things in common
ill fitting school uniforms and the wandering eyes of any child
while you find yourself fascinated by the numbers written on your teacher's chalkboard, ness is folding dinosaurs and stars on pieces of scrap paper, mumbling to himself
you didn't mind him and he didn't mind you
you guys were classmates and that was that
but then middle school came around and you started acting like you had a stick up your ass 24/7 as long as ness was around
like wtf that mf almost never studies why is he at the top of your class...
suddenly you get distracted in classes because you're focused on drawing mini ness figures with fat x's covering his face and devil horns
ness sees this one day after your notebook fell to the ground and at first is like omg!!! cute drawing of me as a fantasy creature but then he was like wait what the fuck why do they have it out for me????
he barely thought about you until then but apparently you've developed a passionate hatred for him just because he scores higher grades
he still has no clue
you are FUMING
so you start studying even more if that's even possible
while you go to your schools library to bust your ass in the textbooks ness goes outside with a ball he managed to shove into his bag and starts kicking it around
ness: :D ball!!!! no school!!! ball :D
you: KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF KILL YOURSELF
after one particularly hard test that you flopped (it was like an 80% be serious) you caved in and asked ness with help studying
he looked at the material and was like man idk it just makes sense
little boy thought you were going to punt him into hell like he does with his football
him, terrified out of his mind and just wanting to go to his football club meeting, sits down and looks at the material
you show him your notes and he quickly explains it but is running late on time
he gives you his number and says hes going to text you help
you went home that day like ???? that dude lied to me he isnt sending me shit ??? before it clicked
he does not text you because he does not have your number... he gave you his number...
so you swallow your pride and shoot him a message, begging for help a second time in the same day and on his end, he laughs at you a little but offers to call
you guys work on the subject for a good couple hours and before you hang up, you offer to study together for future exams because he's admittedly a good teacher
ness is trying to find a way to say "no thanks i don't care about school good luck tho XD ROFL LOLLLLL" but then he realizes that it's going to make his parents trust him a little more
he accepts and you guys go to the library together once a week
he finds that you're actually kind of funny and cool and not just a human bomb that's plotting his death
he tries to be slick about offering to meet more often
"oh... this unit is a lot more difficult than the last one.... you wanna heh.... come back tomorrow? *gulp*"
"ok"
"WOOOO"
one day ness told you he was going to try out for bastard munchen and you somewhat knew of them because of ness going on tangents about football
you supported him on it, not realizing it would cut down your weekly meetings
suddenly there was an alexis-shaped-hole in your chest but you didn't want to admit it to him
and for alexis, there was a you-shaped-hole in his chest that he tried to fill by training with kaiser and the rest of bastard munchen
yes, the team was filled with dicks, but none of them had the same foul personality you had!!
texts dvery day checking up on each other but it was nothing like hanging out in person
calls were better but still not the same
as soon as he heard about his first off day, he called you and asked to hang out
you tried to be nonchalant about it but who were you kidding both of you guys wanted to see each other again
although the directions of life the two of you were headed towards were almost polar opposites, being reunited at a stupid library table for the first time in months was all that mattered
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l0v3tast3 · 2 years ago
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i’m fucking loving the pervy older boyfriends!!! how about pervy older johnny??
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aa tysm anon !!! ヽ(*⌒▽⌒*)ノ i loved writing this hehe i've been wanting to write for johnny for awhile now too so thank u for the request!! <<33
✎ tags: mdni! nsft, f!reader, age gap (r is 20's, johnny is mid/late 30's), semi-public s3x, car s3x, dirty talk, abuse of pet names, innocence/corruption kink, breeding kink (r is on birth control), overstimulation, praise kink/degradation, loss of virginity, oral (f receiving)
✎ word count: 1.7k words (not proofread)
masterlist | requests are open!
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✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!johnny who has an outrageously high sex drive whenever he's around you, or even just thinking about you. you're just the epitome of perfection to him, so sweet and pretty and smart, and you're all his. that fact alone always astounds him; unlike some others, johnny is aware he's a pervert. to be fair, it's only when it comes to you.
✧ ˖ ° he's just so happy to have you as his girlfriend, he can't help that he expresses his affection for you sexually! you've come to expect that as soon as you get into the passenger seat of his car, johnny's hand will holding the back of your neck to press your lips tighter against his. only when you're out of breath and your eyes are hazy will he draw away, cupping your face to peck a kiss to your nose before he's grabbing the steering wheel with one hand and your thigh with the other. he almost always ends up pushing his fingers into you and teasing you about distracting him when you end up moaning and grabbing at his wrist.
✧ ˖ ° unless he's taking you back to his house, johnny has a bad habit of pulling you into the backseat before you go on with your date. going to the movies or out to a restaurant? he parks in the back of the lot and fucks you slow to "not rock the car", but he just loves when you claw at his back and arms and beg for him to go faster (you've been banned from a concerningly long list of places because he just can't say "no" to you). one of his favorite places to take you out to are drive-in theaters, where he can sit you between his legs and finger you, stopping whenever you start making enough noise to attract the attention of the people around you.
✧ ˖ ° when johnny takes you back to his home, he does try to just spend some nice, non-sexual quality time with you, but he always says you're a fucking minx. if he doesn't make the first move within thirty minutes of settling into the couch, you will. in your defense, it's johnny's fault, and he'll also admit it. he takes pride in how much he's corrupted you, how addicted he's made you to him. he loves how reliant you are on him, especially for your pleasure; johnny will make damn sure that you won't be able to get off without his help after he gets his hands on you.
✧ ˖ ° "what's wrong, bonnie? it's only been a couple'a days, y'really miss me that much?" when you sheepishly mumble that you aren't able to finish yourself off anymore, a cheshire grin spreads over his face. "aww, poor little lass, y'need my help to cum? y'know i'll always help ya with that, c'mere."
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!johnny who wants to get you pregnant so badly. he knows you're on birth control and he'll wear a condom or pull out if you say the word, but his favorite thought to get off to while he's away from you is stuffing you full of his cum and seeing your belly swell. johnny's always wanted a family; maybe two boys and a girl, a couple dogs, and a sweet little wife to come home to and wrap his arms around. who better to do that with that you, his sweet little girlfriend?
✧ ˖ ° this results in him practically jumping you the second you tell him you're on birth control. he has you whining and white-knuckling the sheets, the side of your face pressed against the mattress and your hips being held up by one of his hands in no time. the other is planted beside your head so he can lean down close to you. "y'want my baby, lass? how much?" despite the whole thing being his idea, johnny will still make you beg for his cum. "c'mon bonnie, i know y'can use your words. you'll look so pretty with our child, don't ya think?"
✧ ˖ ° when you finally choke out your best attempt of pleading for him to breed you, johnny has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. and despite the rough strokes pushing your body further up the body with each time he bottoms out in you, he'll get sweet. he lays his front over your back and holds your hand with one of his, the other snaking down to your clit. "doin' so well, just a bit more, lass, one more for me. sh, shh, y'can bonnie, promise it'll feel good. we wanna make sure, right? it'll help y'get pregnant, jus' one more, bonnie," he coos into your ear, shushing you when you start whining from the overstimulation. at that point, when he's finally wearing down, you'll already have multiple loads of his cum dripping out of your abused pussy around his cock, so you're pretty damn sure, but how can you say no when he's making you feel so good still?
✧ ˖ ° it isn't entirely about starting a family with you, though. part of it comes from how territorial and protective he is of you. not in the way that he'll kidnap you to keep you from the dangers of the world, but in the way of wanting everyone to know that you're his. in public (around anyone, really) johnny is always touching you. a hand on your thigh, around your waist or shoulders, holding your hand. his favorite place is the back of your neck; the shiver he feels run down your spine when he brushes his thumb under your ear always makes him smile. but there's still that little bit of him that says it isn't enough.
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!johnny who likes to make fun of you (in a loving way, of course). he doesn't go as far as humiliating you, but the way you try to look away and pout is just the cutest sight that johnny's ever seen. it'll be for any little thing, too. when your hips twitch as he grazes his hands over them. when you start forgetting to try and keep your moans and whimpers quiet. when your eyes start getting hazy while he sucks bruises into your neck that he'll wrap his hand over later. everything is fair game with johnny.
✧ ˖ ° and it doesn't take long for him to figure out how much you like it too. he sees the way your thighs rub together when he pins you against the kitchen counter or the hood of his car. he can feel the damp spot on your underwear spread even more when he brushes over your clit through the cloth. and the way you tighten up around his cock while he tells you what a good little whore you are for him when you let him use your sweet cunt. it's all because of how much fun he has teasing you near-constantly. johnny's ego definitely gets boosted to the high heavens when he catches onto how much you like his voice.
✧ ˖ ° he will definitely use your love of his voice to his advantage. it's just so easy, so tempting when you whine because he's holding your jaw so you can't look away while he fills your head with filthy words. "hah, i love y'like this, bonnie. so pretty with my cock fillin' ya up, doesn't it feel good? tch, i know it does, you're soaked for me lass. i got ya trained so well! sweet little girl, you'll really let me use ya however i want, won't you?"
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!johnny who puts little to no effort into concealing just how much he loves ruining your innocence. when you first start dating, he'll wait as long as you want to until you're ready to lose your virginity; he takes it as an opportunity to come up with more ideas of what to do with you. once he does finally get his hands on you though, it's game over. your clothes are off of you before you even know it and he's kissing and licking and biting every inch of skin he can touch. johnny wastes no time in hunting for your most sensitive spots. he's making a roadmap of the best places to pull gasps and tiny mewls from your lips as quickly as he can, starving for any sound, any reaction he can get out of you.
✧ ˖ ° after you're covered in imprints of his teeth he makes sure you're begging for him to do something to make you cum. johnny will slip off your underwear, following it down your legs with more kisses and nips, and when he's finally get his mouth on your drenched cunt, he won't come back up until you're nearly sobbing, trying anything to get him to let up. your hands will be pinned against your stomach with one of his to hold you down simultaneously, the other working one, then two, then three fingers in and out of your tight hole. when they get tired he'll swap his tongue on your clit with them, his thumb resuming the shapes and letters he draws over the bud.
✧ ˖ ° as he lines up the head of his cock with your pussy he'll finally be soft again, kissing you deeply and wrapping your legs around his waist and his arms around you. then his tip pops past your entrance and, once again, game over. johnny knows he's pushing into you a little faster than he should, but you're already arching your back, clawing at his back, and you're so tight that he thinks he might lose his mind trying to hold back. the way your eyes are rolling back as he bottoms out makes his last bit of self-control crumble.
✧ ˖ ° johnny delights in pulling you down deeper into the depths of depravity with him. how after he finally relents and decides to show you mercy during your first time together you giggly airily, saying you didn't think it could be that good. how each time he tries something new with you he watches you get more and more desperate for him, his cock, his touch, anything he'll give you. johnny just wants nothing more than his pretty little darling to rely solely on him for her pleasure!
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fili-urzudel · 1 year ago
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Jumbled - Kíli Durin x Reader
A proper, full-length fic featuring our favorite little brother! I'm not the most proud of this but it's finished and I think I should put it out there. No one requested this, but it's to tide you over until I put the finishing touches on the last few requests :)
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: a lot of being oblivious and dumb, but other than that we're good.
There were no words to describe Kíli Durin. That's what you were thinking as the top of your quill lightly brushed your bottom lip, gazing out the inn's drawing room window. This was the last town you would all stop in for a long while, and those of you with families had made the choice to write letters to your families back home as quickly as possible. You told them how you were doing, that you were tired but making progress and eating well, and keeping good company among thirteen dwarves and a hobbit.
You told them a bit about Bilbo and his odd little ways that you found quite endearing, if not annoying at times, and about Glóin, and his unabashed love and pride in his family. You told them about the golden-haired Prince Fíli, who was always a gentleman and had fast become your friend. You told them how Thorin was usually a big grump, but you had seen evidence from time to time, usually in relation to Bilbo, that it was all just a front. But the one dwarf you wanted to tell them about, you found yourself tongue—er, pen-tied over.
There were no right words to describe how you felt about Kíli Durin. Perfect wouldn't really do him justice, with his uneven bangs and his dazzling lopsided smile and stubbly beard that he cursed to the end of his days. Neither would ethereal, with the way his scent of pine sap and the feel of the callouses on his hands were so very grounded and real. Princely didn't fit his flippant attitude and his unceasing laugh and his never-ending jokes that had your lungs cramping at times.
Perhaps the real problem was that there wasn't enough paper.
You sent the letter off without writing exactly what you wanted about the soon-to-be prince of Erebor, save for his best wishes to any female member of your household. He didn't think you would write it down, but there was just enough room for a postscript. That would show him.
And before you knew it, you were on your way again. You readjusted your pack on your shoulders as Fíli dropped back to walk beside you. "I don't suppose you confessed your undying love in that letter by any chance?"
You blushed and nudged him with your elbow, too untrusting of your own balance to attempt kicking him. "Do you have to be so loud?"
"I can assure you it's all lost in the thunderous stomping, my friend," he smiled. "But that's probably for the best. Better for the object of your affections to know first, don't you think?"
"Stop trying to push it, Fíli," you groaned. "I already feel horrible for avoiding him for so long. I just... I can't be normal around him anymore, I—I don't know how to get the words out. This is all... so weird."
Fíli gave you a pointed glance. "If you're worried about him rejecting you, there's no way in all of Arda."
"Is that verified intelligence?"
"I'm his brother."
"Fair enough. I'll try."
"Tonight?"
"...Soon."
You didn't even have to approach the prince that evening, as he sought you out to have supper with. "Hello," you said with a nervous smile, scooting to make sure there was plenty of room for him on the log you had claimed. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to get away from him.
"Hey," he returned a bright grin. "I just figured I'd better take my chance to spend some time with you while I can. We never seem to be near each other anymore."
"Hah, yeah," you answered awkwardly. "Sorry about that."
"Have you been avoiding me?" He asked, suddenly serious.
"What?" You asked with wide eyes, horrified. You looked to Fíli, sitting just a few yards away, and he gave you a look that said, just tell him.
"No—no, I wasn't trying to avoid you at all, it's just, you see, well—" gods you were a mess—you sighed. "I just realized, fairly recently, that I'm... in love, and it's made it hard to focus. I'm sorry if I was avoiding you."
That was a terrible confession by any standard.
Rather than looking relieved or hopeful, Kíli looked... pained. Almost angry, and Kíli was never angry. "Oh. I'm happy for you," he said flatly, before picking up his stew and heading elsewhere. He took a seat near Dwalin and Thorin, silently listening to their intense conversation.
You gave a desperate look to Fíli again, and he just shrugged. "I'll try to talk to him," he mouthed, and you nodded in gratitude.
You spent the rest of the evening in silence.
You loved Fíli. Of course, you loved Fíli, Kíli thought as he wandered the outskirts of camp, kicking a rock from one boot to another. Just one look at the two of them could have predicted that clearly enough. He was tall but broad, properly muscular for a dwarf. He had thick, curly hair and enough braids to make Thorin jealous. He had a full beard. He forged enough knives to supply an army and carried half of them on his person.
What did Kíli have compared to that? Bangs he had cut for himself on impulse so that people would have something else to look at instead of his pathetic excuse for a beard? A small game bow that was useless when anything came up close? A sword that he needed help to make?
There was no contest, really. Even if Fíli was engaged, what would that do to stop anyone from seeing his merits?
"You're sure he didn't say anything? Didn't make any significant noises or... grunts or anything?" You asked, on the verge of tears. It had been three days since your terrible confession, and Kíli hadn't so much as glanced your way.
"Nothing. He hasn't said anything to me since, either," Fíli said dejectedly.
There were only two explanations: he had horribly misunderstood you, or he knew you were in love with him and was so disgusted by the concept that he decided to avoid you entirely. As foolish as it was, you were inclined to believe the latter.
"What about what I said would make him hate me?" You murmured.
"Hey now, he may be giving you the cold shoulder, but he does not hate you. Kíli's not like that. You'd have to do something terrible, like... kill me, to get him to hate you," Fíli assured you.
That drew a short laugh from you, and you rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. "I hope you're right," you sighed. "I just wish he would at least look at me."
That night, like the previous two, you sat away from the fire, holding your soup close to your body to stay warm, despite Balin's many good-natured attempts to get you to join them. If Kíli didn't want to be near you, you wouldn't force him.
It was still light out when you decided to lay out your bedroll for the evening, the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. Apparently Thorin had decided you all needed the extra rest.
You glanced up at the sound of footsteps, and your eyes were met with boots. Kíli's boots. "Kíli!" You said, surprising yourself with how... shocked your voice was.
"Are you alright?" He asked, and though he sounded concerned, there was a hardness to his eyes. "People who are in love don't normally appear so sad."
"Well, they do when the object of their affections makes it so clear that they are not interested," you replied glumly. "You don't have to pretend—"
He made a frustrated sort of huff, and you looked up at him in confusion. He had never made a sound like that. "I am sorry for your heartbreak, but forgive me if it frustrates me as well. It is clear to all the world by his disposition, his words, and most importantly, his braids, that my brother is taken. He has promised himself in marriage to a dam he loves, and there is nothing my brother is if not loyal. And I can understand his appeal, but have I not also been a friend? Have I not also tried to be kind and—and charming and gentlemanly and make you laugh? I am not my brother but I would like to think I have my own merits so why are you lovesick over him when I am right here?"
You gazed at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking across your face. "You... think that I love your brother?"
Kíli's brow furrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"Fíli! Kíli has declared me hopelessly in love with you!" You shouted, and the golden prince unceremoniously spat out a spray of his soup, narrowly missing Nori.
By this time you were full-out laughing, and everyone in the company was staring at you, especially Thorin.
"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Kíli asked, all the hardness having vanished from his eyes.
"Kíli, I may have been... fantastically terrible at saying this, and I'm sorry for that, but I was trying to say that I'm in love with you," you explained, taking his hands.
"You're... in love with me?" He breathed hopefully.
"I love you, Kíli, and if your recent outburst was any indication, I'm feeling very optimistic about my chances of you loving me as well," you confirmed.
"But—but I'm short and uncouth and—and I can't grow a proper beard—"
"You were just touting your many good qualities, and I agree with those more," you teased.
"You love me?"
"Yes."
"I love you too," he finally admitted. "May I kiss you?"
"You may."
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pastel-medic · 1 year ago
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My name is Xed/Pastel ^v^ (He/Xe/They)! I am 25 years old and any other art accts will likely have the username pastelxapple if you want to find me on other platforms!
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Medicsona:
Mercenary Intros
Full Refs:
RED Team:
BLU Team:
Gentlesurgery Ship 💜:
Roulette Class AU:
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Blog intro, tags, & rules ⬇️
Ko-fi (sketch comms):
Strawpage:
Tags:
#my art (or #xed art) - My art tag! You can find my artwork directly with this tag 🐍✨
#ask box - All replies to my inbox are tagged with this! It comprises mostly of Q&As of my mercs or other characters, art requests, and other questions!
#roulette class au (or #tf2 roulette class au) - This is the tag for my TF2 AU, the Roulette Class AU! The long and short of it is I swapped all of the mercenaries' classes and there's major differences in the lore.
#quixote - My gentlesurgery ship tag! So not to confuse my ship with RED Medic and VLT Spy from the usual gentlesurgery ship you can find their content separate from that with this tag!
#medic brothers - This tag is specifically for my Medic Brothers (Fritz and Ludwig), so any art and lore for them are tagged with this!
#lore crumbs 🍰 - Small pieces of art and/or posts about my ocs or AUs! 👏🏼✨ I try to tag posts with any info or headcanons about my characters/AUs ^^
#shortcake medic - Tag used for any art I make of my Medicsona, Shortcake Medic! 🍰💖
#tsu art - (or #twin art) - Art tag for my twin's artwork 🦊 (@/hoshi-tsubasa )! I love sharing her work and she deserves more praise for it! ^v^✨ Yes she is a furry so be kind!!!
#moot art 💖 - Art tag for my artist mutuals! I love to share their work so I keep this tagged to their stuff so I can find it again (cuz I'm dumb and don't wanna scroll through reblogs for eternity)
#other artists (or #reblog) - This is the tag I use when I reblog other amazing artists' work!
General Info:
I've technically been in the TF2 community for more than 6 years but I just recently got back into it as of 2024!
Pr0shipper/“problematic” accounts DNI!!! I will block you >:(((
@/hoshi-tsubasa is my twin! Her art is just as incredible so go check her out too if you'd like! She also draws TF2 stuff here and there, plus she has some TF2 merch you can check out on her redbubble!
My main ship is Gentlesurgery, which I draw quite a lot! If that ship is not your cup of tea I kindly suggest to be polite and just move on, harassment and hate will not be tolerated here. I also have other favorite TF2 ships that I don't have listed above in the "Meet The Artist" template that I may draw from time to time! However, please be mindful that I don't really draw HeavyMedic (Red Oktoberfest), MedicScout (Quickfix/Blunt Trauma), or SniperScout (SpeedingBullet) ships, as those are not ships I'm particularly fond of compared to others (MedicScout cuz as a passionate MedicSpy shipper it just feels uncomfy for me) ;3; very sorry! (ALSO ABSOLUTELY NO SPYSCOUT GET OUT OF HERE WITH THAT DISGUSTING STUFF) I do like most TF2 ships tho (I especially love all Spy ships)! 💖
Please be aware I likely will not draw nsfw! There may be suggestive art tho from time to time :3c Some things will be tagged with tw if needed!
Also please do not tag my art with ship tags unless I have them put under my art! I am not comfortable with certain dynamics being labeled as ships, especially if the dynamic is not meant to be in any form romantic/sexual ;;
My hyperfixations do shift so I may hop from one media to another or draw crossovers! I will usually post my other non-TF2 art on my instagram, but all TF2 content will be here!
In addition, please be aware I have ADHD and an alter system (DID), so please note that I may go silent with posts every once in a while. My mental health is not a subject I care to make front and center here, so I prefer any questions or topics of such be kept private! Thank you! 💖
If you can I encourage you to reblog my artwork if you like it! Traction on tumblr is very different than on other social sites like twitter and tiktok, so it would mean a lot to me if you could share my art! 🥺💌 I'm deeply humbled if you enjoy my content, thank you!
Ask Box Rules:
This is a 16+ ask blog, so if you wanna ask me or my version of the mercs something pls feel free! Anon questions will be turned on and off from time to time, but if people completely abuse it or things get out of hand I will shut them off permanently ;3; Also please respect that there's a limit for how much you can ask of me, I won't consistently draw the same thing over and over if it's asked for like more than 3 times (especially by the same person)!
Also, if I do not respond to your ask, it may be because I am either uncomfortable with the ask, am unsure how to respond, or simply do not feel that it is an ask that needs to be posted. I am also NOT an rp blog so I will not respond to rp-like asks. Please respect this, thank you!
Please be respectful! I have major anxiety and communication/socializing is difficult for me, so I may not engage in conversations much ;0; I do get super nervous with parasocial behavior!!! I will do my best to respond to my inbox so please be patient with me 💌
Fanart/Art Rules:
Art Trades are for mutuals only! I rarely do them but think they're fun! Also will only do an art trade if the level of art quality and skill is the similar to my own, thank you! 💖
This isn't entirely an art request blog but depending on the question in the ask box I might doodle something if I'm interested enough! 🍰✨ I don't really draw ship requests often tho! ;3; Might do some that I like but depends!
I don't mind fanart! If you'd like to make fanart for me please tag me so I can see your lovely work! However pls don't draw my ocs or version (aus included) of the mercs inappropriately or in ships I otherwise am not comfortable with, as they already have pre-established relationships ;; Also please do not misinterpret/take creative liberties with my Medicsona (Shortcake Medic) specifically, as he is my personal sona and I am more sensitive about art of him! He is not an oc, he is a sona, so I am uncomfortable with misinterpretations and/or nsfw art of him. If you are unsure about anything please ask me first, I am very firm and particular about him! Thank you!!! 💖🍰
If you want to use my art as a profile pic please ask me first!!! DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY ARTWORK!!!!
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Check Ups - A.H x Reader
IM SORRY TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS I LOST YOUR ASK!!!!
This is the “doctor and Aaron flirting and going on a date and getting together”
Thank you for my first ever request!! I loooooved this idea and I hope that I wrote it well enough.
Not proofread!! (Also I kind of messed up so ignore that Jack was canonically three at this point and pretend he’s ten for me)
Content: Hotch and his Doctor have feelings for eachother and go on a few dates (pure fluff)
Word count: 1.3k
Hope you enjoy x
Ever since a fatal explosion involving the FBI, SSA Aaron Hotchner had become a regular patient of yours. It was your job to assess him regularly for the next few months to ensure that he was still safe for duty.
So here you were, stood by the side of the man. His boss, Erin Strauss had warned you in advance that Aaron could be stoic and closed off but from your experience he was far from either.
"I'm seeing some great improvements in your hearing, how have you been feeling about your hearing?" You ask softly, glad to see so much improvement.
"Pardon, sorry i couldn't hear you?" He jokes, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he smiles. Although he was a very friendly man you could see how he could appear cold. His sharp features set a professional president but the minute he smiled his whole demeanour was warm.
"Nice to see you got your humour back Aaron, but I do have the power to take your job away from you so I'm gonna need some honesty." You remind him, doing your best not to laugh, as not to give him any sense of pride.
"God, I love a woman with authority." He chuckles, leaning back in his chair pretending to admire you. Although his gaze was joking something about it had your head reeling. Every appointment with Aaron had you sat in your office giggling like a lovestruck school girl the moment he left.
"Aaron, I think this might be our last appointment." You sigh, pulling a card out from one of your draws and scribbling your number on it. "Call this number if anything gets worse"
As you spoke, Aaron's expression softened, the reality of this being your last appointment sinking in. The thought of not seeing you regularly anymore filled him with an unexpected phone sense of sorrow.
He took the card from you, his fingers grazing yours for a moment longer than necessary. Looking down at the numbers scribbled down and he nodded silently. "I'll remember that."
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A few painfully normal days go by for both of you, falling into the same old routine as always.
Aaron sat at his desk, twirling a pen between his fingers as he stared at his phone, silently debating whether or not to call you. After several minutes of internal debate, he caved and dialled your number. His heart rate picked up as the phone began to ring, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
When you answered, he paused for a moment, his voice coming out a bit hesitant. "Hi, It's Aaron Hotchner. Sorry for calling out of the blue like this."
You rush over to your planner, secretly elated to hear his voice again, to potentially have another appointment with him. "Don't apologise, what's going on, are you getting those headaches again? Sensitivity to sound? Has your hearing gotten worse?"
Aaron chuckled softly at your questions, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him. It was heart warming to know that you still cared about his well-being, even though this wasn't an official appointment.
"No, no" he assured you, "I'm not calling because my headaches are back or anything like that. My hearing's still fine." He paused for a moment, his tone growing slightly serious. "There's actually something else I wanted to talk about."
You pause for a second, succumbing to your nerves as he announces this down the line. You'd had the 'I need to talk to you' talk countless times but never from a patient. You just wait silently for him to elaborate.
There was a brief moment of silence as Aaron debated the best way to approach this. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for your reaction.
"Listen" He said, his voice more apprehensive than you had ever heard it. Almost foreign from the confident man you had been treating. "I've been thinking about you lately. Not just as my doctor... And I know it's not appropriate for me to call like this without violating my medical ethics but-"
"Are you free mid day tomorrow? I could really go for some good lunch with a handsome man." You interrupt with a sudden burst of confidence, a giddy smirk playing on your face.
Aaron was taken slightly off guard by your sudden display of confidence, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He chuckled lightly, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"A mid day lunch, huh?" He paused contemplating his schedule for a moment. "Yeah, I'm free." Excitement flickered in his eyes. "Name the time and place, and I'll be there."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day you enter the café more nervous than you anticipated, taking a seat at a small corner table.
Aaron arrived at the café a few minutes after you in an outfit far more casual than you usually saw him. He usually wore his work suit but seeing him in a t-shirt that he filled perfectly left your cheeks heating up. His eyes scanned the room until he spotted you sitting at the corner table. His heartbeat quickened a notch as he walked over to you, a mix of nervousness and anticipation swirling inside of him.
He offered you a warm smile as he sat down across from you. "Hey," he greeted, his voice a touch gentler than normal "You look beautiful today."
You smile softly, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks as the man takes a seat “thank you, Aaron.” You say, wracking your brain to say something nice about him, but he knows by the way that you look at him that you think the world of him. And to him that means more than words.
He chuckled softly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "You don't have to say anything." He reached across the table, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. "Your eyes speak volumes."
“I knew asking a profiler on a date was a terrible idea.” You joke, although something about him being able to read you so well makes you feel comfortable, seen almost.
“So this is officially a date?” He smirks as he glances over the menu
————————————————————————
The date is successful, as are the next few.
Tonight you’re baby sitting Jack for him. He’s a sweet kid, much nicer than most you meet, and very mature for his age.
“Y’know my dad talks about you a lot.” He says nonchalantly as he builds a Lego wall so his transformers can defend themselves against his nerf gun
“Oh yeah?” You ask calmly, trying not to poke your head in too much.
“It’s nice that he has a girlfriend now.” Jack replies simply, not really knowing the impact of what he’d said.
Of course you and Aaron had gotten very close through your dates but you had never thought that he’d want a relationship with you.
“You think I’m his girlfriend?” You laugh
“Well not yet. But I’m almost certain he wants you to be.”
Unbeknownst to the two of you Aaron had just come into the house and looks into the living room where the two of you sit.
“Jack. That’s enough of exposing me for tonight. Let’s get you to bed.” He says fatherly, he’s so good with Jack.
He glances to you softly “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”
It feels like an age that he’s up there, you can’t distinguish the words but you can hear soft words being exchanged between father and son. You wait impatiently shuffling on the balls of your feet.
After about fifteen minutes you finally hear his gentle footsteps coming down the stairs.
You stand in the living room nervously chewing your finger nails.
“Hey..” he says softly, finally hanging his jacket up after his long day
“Was Jack right?” You ask quietly.
He nods, confirming every thing you hoped was true. Your heartbeat increases as he nods and you stop chewing your nails, you rush over to him flinging your arms around his neck.
“Is that what you want?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.
“More than anything.” You mumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“I should probably go and tell my little man the good news before he falls asleep.”
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emotionalmessss · 2 years ago
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Weird request, but would you be willing to take a shot at a Dabi headcannon list where the reader's family was friends with the Todoroki family, so he knew her before the fire when she was still a little girl?
A/N: ou, I'll definitely give this one a shot. I took a different approach with this one, so I hope I answered alright. :) I haven't written in months, so I'm kinda rusty and completely ran with this, sorry.
Warnings: slight spoilers for season six of MHA
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Touya, despite being an energetic kid, was shy when you first started coming around the Todoroki household. 
At first, he would stay hidden and watch you play with his siblings down in the courtyard, opting to observe you through the balcony railing. Or he’d be too focused on training his Quirk in another room.
He never really said all the much to you, only a few words here and there, but that didn’t stop you from trying to interact with him.
As Fuyumi tosses a ball at Natsuo, you spot Touya out of the corner of your eye, who leans back against one of the wooden support beams and observes. 
You couldn’t help but grin when you notice him, turning to give him your full attention, and trying to beckon him over with a frantic wave of your hand. 
“Touya! Come join us!” You call out towards him, your bright smile never fading as you urged him to play. 
Touya glances over at the sound of your voice, his hand tucked inside the pockets of his pants. Averting his eyes and drawing his lips into a thin line, as he contemplates your offer. For a moment, that stubborn look of his fades, and it looks as though he’s about to concede, but at the last minute, he pushes himself off the wooden beam and retreats upstairs. 
Your smile faded slightly and your shoulders slump in response to his denial, but your innocent self quickly shakes off the sting of rejection. He probably just wants to train, you think to yourself. 
Eventually, as you started to come around the house more often, Touya slowly found himself getting more comfortable around you. 
He started talking to you more than he usually did, and rejecting less of your offers to come and play. Oddly enough, whenever you were around, his entire focus was on you.
You could say that this was just innocent child curiosity, but it was something different. The faint blush and quick aversion of his eyes whenever you caught him looking at you, how he occasionally asked Rei when you’d be at the house again, and how excited he got when he’d offer to show you his Quirk.
He loved to innocently tease you, and tell you all about his plans in surpassing All Might, and becoming the Number One Hero. He would go on and on about it, since you were one of the few people who encouraged him and his goals.
Touya’s head immediately poked out of his bedroom when he heard the front door open and close, followed by the familiar sound of your voice. Less than a second later, he quickly makes his way over to the front entrance with an excited bounce in his step. 
“C’mon, I wanna show you something cool!” His voice taking on a higher pitch, laced with a sense of urgency. He grins and grabs ahold of your hand, barely giving you enough time to take off your shoes before he’s tugging you down the hallway and into his room. 
Your eyes widen in pure awe as he holds up his hand, a bright flame flickering around his closed fists. “That’s so cool! You’re amazing!” 
A prideful smile spreads across his face at your response, which fills him up with a sense of satisfaction. There’s also a weird feeling that builds up in his stomach, one that he’s completely unfamiliar with. 
“You really think so?!” He questions, almost like he’s not used to this type of reaction. His smile widens and the heel of his right foot digs into the flooring when you nod.
His eyes shift from you to his fiery fist, and then back to you again. That look on your face, along with your praise causes Touya to completely ignore the gnawing heat that his Quirk produces — one that his body is ill equipped at handling. 
Years after the incident, now taking on the persona of Dabi, joining the League, and vowing revenge on Endeavor. The bitter reminders of being tossed aside like trash, the constant rejection, and being deemed a failure, all brewed beneath his aloof demeanour. 
That hatred wasn’t solely directed at his father, oh no, it stretched to that perfect little masterpiece. That fucking brat, nothing but a puppet.
But, deep beneath his hateful and resentful thoughts, there was one thought that occupied his mind more than he would’ve liked. You.
It would be a lie to say that Dabi didn’t try to get you out of his head, but it rarely seemed to work out in his favour. He would always tell himself that you didn’t matter and that he’s a kid anymore. After all, Touya Todoroki died. 
But getting someone like you out of his head was harder than he imagined. Even after everything, he could still see your beaming smile, and hear your innocent words of encouragement. 
Thoughts of you even started to distract him during his business with the League, especially when he was out searching for new recruits. Every time he noticed someone that looked even a tiny bit like you, his stomach would instantly knot up. Anxiety? Anticipation? Who knew. 
Whenever the League’s activities would venture a little too close to where you lived (again, why did he remember this?) he’d purposely hang back a bit, his impassive expression giving away none of his inner turmoil. 
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anthracite-writes · 2 years ago
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hiya! can you do the brothers with a gn!mc whos kinda popular with other demons? i just think that overtime demons have become curious since theyve managed to grab the attention of the brothers and dateables
Obey Me! Imagines - Demon Brothers X Popular!GN! Reader [SFW]
A//N: Ohhh, intresting - I'll try my best with this one! I hope you enjoy it! Apologies in advance if I misinterpreted your request or if it's a bit OOC.
NOT PROOF READ!! APOLOGIES FOR ANY TYPOS OR SPELLING ERRORS! - PS; Congrats, you're my first request submission <3
Summary: Demon brothers with a popular GN! Reader. Your popularity was fairly lowkey when you arrived in the Devildom just because of pure curiosity, but once word gets around about your Pact making with the 7 Brothers and you managed to become such close friends with both Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Luke and Simeon in such a shot time - that's when your popularity skyrockets and everyone wants a piece of you. You're practically a minor celeberty in the Devildom, but - how exact does the Demon brother's feel about it? - CW//TW; Minor jealous behaviour, possessive behaviour [Lucifer & Mammon], some angst??? [Leviathan]
𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗿
At first, he didn't mind it - you're the human transfer student, of course the other demons in the Devildom would take an interest in you just out of curiosity.
Once word gets around about your achievements in such a short time - that's when it catches the Prideful Demon's attention.
The fact that there were so many eyes on you, watching your every move with your sudden popularity - you were bound to have some students that were interested in you, wanting your attention, etc.
Extremely good at masking his jealousy.
Why is he jealous exactly? All the attention you have on you is taking away time and attention you usually have on him and him alone.
Absolutely hates it when your attention is pulled away from him just because some RAD student wanted to ask or talk to you for a bit.
He draws the line when he catches wind that some demons are developing feelings for you and confessing said feeling from your popularity.
They've been taking your time and attention with they're curiosity long enough and he won't stand for this any longer, he would pull you aside;
"Have you forgotten the terms of our pact, Y/N?" He says in a hushed voice, leaning in close to your ear as he holds you by the shoulders with firm hands after he had pulled you aside from prying eyes of other students, "I hate that you're attention is never on me now, you know how much I hate being ignored..." "I don't care how popular you get," He pulls way slowly as he tilts your head up to force your eyes to meet his, "I want your eyes on me and only me, at all times. Got it?"
𝗠𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻
Oh, he was never on board with your popularity to begin with when you first arrived.
That meant he actually had to do his job as your supervisor to stop you from getting eaten by other demons.
When your popular grew more and more, that's when he started getting [a TON] tiny bit jealous. And he's very vocal about it.
Mans greedy for your attention and you being popular, having people around you all up in your business doesn't sit well with him at all.
He's extremely impatience when your talking to other demons when you two are hanging out - crossing his arms and getting all pouty.
Once he even sees another demon show any interest in you, he's gonna make a scene.
Makes a bigger scene if a demon even tries to make any romantic advancements with you due to said popularity - "Nu-huh! They're not into you, now go. It's my time with Y/N, you're cutting in."
Mammon takes you hand in his as you two walked back to the House of Lamentation after a little walk around the shops, you can feel his hand squeeze yours slightly as he tenses up. "Y/N..." Mammon starts, getting your attention. "I should have priority over everyone else." He says, looking away from you slightly, covering his face slightly with the back of his hand to hide his settle blush on his cheeks. "I get your suddenly all popular and all but... I want you to pay attention to me, I am your first after all."
𝗟𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻
Doesn't care that much to begin with, that's normie behaviour and he's not about that.
Besides, he hates the crowds you draw in with your popularity so he chooses not to hang around you that much.
Though, he does envy you but would never admit it out loud and word for word, probably would beat around the bush.
When your popularity grows more and more as the more things you achieve in the Devildom - that's when the reality kicks in for him.
You suddenly have so many friends and so many admires, and he gets it - you're so much cooler than him, why would people want to hang around a yucky otaku like him.
Watches on from a far, seeing you happily interact with other demons from your popularity only worsens his feelings.
Watching you - his only friends slowly drift off from him, he doesn't try to salvage the relationship he once had with you.
He just reminisces while in room - remembering how you two use to game together, all the anime marathons and watch parties you two had, read manga together, etc.
When he does see you, he just only has very surface level conversations with you [ex. weather, classes, what you've been up to, etc.] - no longer having he's rabbit-hole rambles about the newest game he's been playing, animes he's been watching, manga he's been reading, etc.
He doesn't want to eat up too much of you're time knowing you have other friends that were probably more fun to be around than him.
Often cuts conversations short in an abrupt manner with you if you start the conversation yourself .
Falls back to his habit of locking himself in his room for days on end - opting to just take the classes online / independent learning - refusing to leave beside for the necessities.
"...Maybe it's for the best, if I were Y/N, I wouldn't want to be around me either..." Leviathan mumbles to himself, curled up on a beanbag and leaning up against his room's tank wall's glass as he watched Henry 2.0 swim around the coral and rocks in the lonesome tank. "Why would Y/N want to hang around a yucky otaku like me? I just haul up in my room like the shut-in I am... I'm probably so boring to be around... and annoying with how much I talk..." he said with a sigh, looking at the goldfish that was now staring at him from inside the tank, "At least I got you... you're my friend. Right, Henry?" Silence filled the room, only the tank's heater and filter whirring audible. Leviathan pressed his forehead against the tanks glass as he felt his chest tighten followed by a lump in his throat formed, his eyes watering up. "I miss them so much..." He said quietly as his voice cracked, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes as he tries to stop tears flowed from his eyes and down his cheeks. As much as he tried to deny it, with your popularity - he's just no longer your friend. He's just now sees himself as another person in the faceless crowd to you.
𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻
Honestly doesn't care much for your popularity.
Genuinly, he's quite impressed with how popular you gotten in the Devildom with you're achievements.
Though, does worry about you from time to time due to you being close to Diavolo so... there's that.
He doesn't want other demons to take advantage with your ties and popularity.
Other than that, he's really not that responsive to your popularity, even if it grows.
Most likely, you might have the same connection as him due to your popularity so you two go to exclusive events [restaurant grand openings, friends/acquaintances only parties/events, etc]
If that's the case, he's glad to have you there - having a familiar face in the room really puts him at ease.
"Hey, Y/N." He calls out to you as he makes his way through the crowd of demons mingling and talking amongst themselves, seeing you stand off to the side of the room - taking a break from all the socializing. "How are you feeling? Do you want to head out for a breather with me?" He asks with a soft smile, offering you his arm. "You must be a bit tired from talking to all these people - especially with the respect you've garnered amongst other demons. If you'd like to join me, I know a good place to get away for a little social break."
𝗔𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘂𝘀
Absolutely ecstatic that you're finally getting the popularity and recognition in the Devildom.
You do have a pact with him anyways, it's what he expects - the more eyes on you, the more eyes on him by proxy.
He constantly brags that he knows you on a personal level, but would never indulge in any information - he doesn't kiss and tell <3
Would take you to so many parties so you can get to know more Demons than you already know just from your popularity alone.
He's most likely by your side whenever you two are out in public, he LOVES attention and your popularity helps with getting stares and all.
Def. introduces you to all his friends like... 99% of new people you now know is all thanks to Asmo.
Does get a bit pouty when you two are out and random demons try to talk to you.
Usually doesn't mind it but he does have his limits - is it because he's not getting the attention from the people who are fascinated by you and your achievements or is it because he doesn't have your attention and he craves your attention alone?
A mix of both post likely, one more than the other - which one favours over the other? That's for Asmo to know and you to find out.
The two of you were out clubbing with a couple of Asmo's friends but it seemed like the Avatar of Lust's friends were more intrested in you than him, asking you about what's it like to be so close to Diavolo or what's the celestial realm like since you're really close to the angels. Asmo had enough of this, downing the rest of his Demonus and putting his glass down with a tap as he rose to his feet in a a swift manner. "Y/N, let's go dance~" He says with his usual happy-go-lucky voice, not even waiting for an answer before taking your hand and pulling you out of the private room right into the hallway. He pushes you against the wall gently, putting an hand next to your head - pinning you up against the wall as the club's music bumped in the distance. "It's my turn to give you attention, Y/N." He whispered as he leaned in close to your ear, his tone now almost a purr as he spoke. "I'll be sure not to bore you with question like my friends back there~"
𝗕𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘇𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗯
Doesn't let it affect him.
He doesn't mind the fact you're popular, just doesn't like it when you two get interrupted when you two are out.
When you two are out buying snacks and someone recognizes you and starts chatting with you when he's was in the middle of asking you something - he gets kinda upset but not really.
But due to Beel's sometimes expressionless face, the demon that interuping you two's bonding time usually backs off.
In a way, he's kinda like a body guard for you.
Due to his sheer size and the common knowledge he's extremely strong - demons that do post a threat or just want to interact with you back off immediately when you're with this guy.
But the fact your popularity has some perks, that catches his attention.
When you admirer gifts that are food related [and trust me, that a lot of the time] - don't worry, Beel would happily take that off your hands if you allow him to.
"Y/N, do you want get these Hellfire Spicy Newt Chips? This flavour is new-" Beel's words trail off when he sees you talking to another demon, 'Huh, must be one of the demons curious about Y/N...' he thought as he stood up straight, his build and large figure towering over you as he stared intently at you're interaction - just waiting for the conversation you're having to end with the lesser Demon. He notices the other demon's eyes slowly drift up and look at him, suddenly ending the conversation you where having with them and rushing off down the opposite direction of the store aisle you two were in. You look up at Beel with a confused look painted on your face from the lesser Demon's sudden choice to end the conversation abruptly. Beel just shrugged in response and held the chip bag he was holding, "Do you want Hellfire Spicy Newt Chips too, Y/N?"
𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿
Like his twin, really doesn't care that your popular.
Matter of fact, he uses it to his advantage all while looking after you.
How exactly? You two a little routine that you two do.
He's already waiting in the attic for you, laying down on the sleeping area he had made when he was held captive up there or in his shared bedroom with Beel - probably already napping.
He senses when you enter the room, he waits up from his slumber and invites you to nap with him.
Gives you cuddles and uses you as a human body pillow while the two of you naps,
Listens to you talk about the latest happenings in you new life being popular in the Devildom - gossip and all.
He stays awake long enough to watch you fall asleep next to him before falling asleep himself.
He lets out a soft while as he stirs awake, hearing someone enter the room. Just from the sound of the footsteps, he knew who it was. "Y/N... you're home..." Belphie welcomes you in his hald-asleep toned voice, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He scoots a bit on the mattress - inviting you to lay with him. Once he feels the mattress sink as you lay beside him, he scoots back that his body was pressed against your back, you feel his arms wrap around you and a leg straddle over your hip as if the sleepy demon was using you as a body pillow. "You must be tired, Y/N... it must have been an eventful day..." he mutters into your clothed back as he presses his face into it, his eyes fluttering closed comforted by your warmth. "Tell me all about it..."
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kissofthemis · 2 years ago
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Hello!Can i request the nxx biys with a slightly weird s/o?
Like weird as in they're always happy and goofy 24/7 even in dangerous situations?Like maybe something happened to them in the past that made then this way(you can decide on what happened :D )
Oh,and can i be the K Anon?My keyboard lags a lot if i use emojis,so I hope you don't mind if I go by K Anon here :D
Sorry if this is a super long request it's just been brainrottingbin my head 24/7 and i don't have enough writting skills lmao
❤ Artem ❤
At first, he doesn't notice that you have a tendency to laugh off your pain or make morbid jokes. He thinks that he's just more uptight or strict than most people, so he suspects your behavior is actually more akin to how "normal" people act.
It's when you act blasé after a dangerous encounter that he realizes that this seems to be a unique trait, specific to you.
He specializes in criminal cases. He knows that people who feel threatened or have experienced dangerous situations can react in many different ways... but to be this carefree is not something he's seen before.
You don't lash out, but you don't withdraw. You don't scream or cry, but you aren't bottling your pain either. You're an anomaly.
"Mr. Wing, it's a dark world out there." He knows that. "If I'm too serious, I'll crumble." He's never heard you speak in such a flat, detached tone. "So I stay silly!"
He isn't going to pry into why you feel you have to laugh all the pain away, because he trusts you to tell him if/when you're ready.
He knows what it's like to mask his true feelings.
Instead he offers you his shoulder. "If you ever need to turn away from the shadows... I'll shield you if you need a moment to be vulnerable, before putting that smile back on your face."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💛 Luke 💛
Your smile and laugh make him warm inside. He likes that you can stay cheerful even when faced with stress or with gloomy situations.
He soon realizes that you're a bit too goofy, a bit too relaxed, a bit too much of a jokester. He's not mad about it, but he wants to figure out why you're this way.
At first he doesn't want to tell you he's investigating your behaviors. He's in detective mode and NSB agent mode at the same time; he won't ask for help nor reveal his intentions when he asks to spend more time with you.
He cares, but his pride can get in the way.
Finally he pieces together the puzzle, with clues and hints he obtained partially from you and partially from totally legitimate public sources, no hacking involved. (/s)
"You could've just asked me!" You laugh and wave him off. "It's no big deal!"
Luke gets stern with you. "You were subjected to immense psychological and physical abuse."
You just smile. "And you haven't been?" His scowl gets deeper. "Tell you what! Promise to look after me, so you don't have to worry about me getting trapped or endangered ever again! And then I'll be able to smile freely all the time!"
He reluctantly agrees.
Don't ask if the plush dog he gives you the next time you meet has a camera in it.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💜 Marius 💜
Your cheerful and carefree nature is what draws Marius to you in the first place.
He's constantly under stress. Whether it's school, tutoring, Z, or Pax, he always has some project pending and is subject to intense scrutiny.
You're a breath of fresh air from stuffy old men. You smile, you laugh, you play. He wants some of that l joy back in his life.
Unfortunately, trauma knows trauma. The more time he spends with you, the more he picks up on eccentricities that... don't quite line up with "innocence" the way he imagines it.
He understands the value of secrets and how they can protect others. He's had to keep secrets to protect his family, the company, reputations, wealth, you name it.
But he also wants to work on being more honest with himself, and that means being more honest with his closest friends. He doesn't have many friends, so he wants you to be able able confide in him the same way he can confide in you.
Of course, while he's a bold and bright businessman, he's a timid and inexperienced friend.
He'll try to tease and pout his way into your heart and mind. "Aww, are you laughing at me again, miss/mx/mister?" Tugging at your sleeves and your heartstrings. "Trying to trick me with a fake smile? Miss/mx/mister doesn't trust me..."
Turns out he has to be direct and blunt. You two end up having a heart to heart about your respective fears and struggles, the horrors you've faced, the sorrowful smiles and the humorous tears.
He comes up with an idea. "Here's a key to my studio. Want to turn pain and fear into something bright? Show me what you can paint."
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
💚 Vyn 💚
In case it wasn't readily apparent, Vyn picks up on your act instantly.
He's a psychiatrist. He doesn't know why you act this way, but he can figure out it's unnatural.
(Not to mention he enjoys card tricks. He's also good at perceiving sleight of hand and other "magic" that involves showing someone what you want them to see, instead of showing them the truth and mechanisms behind the magic.)
Instead of playing games or trying to snoop his way into your secrets, he just observes you.
He's skilled at sitting back and watching, waiting, picking up pieces and fitting them together.
You catch him by surprise, however, when you call him out on his behavior.
"Vyn, am I your patient or your friend?" You pout at him and fold your arms over your chest in a highly exaggerated manner, one that is almost comical in nature. You shift back into chuckles and spin around as you wait for his answer.
Your one moment of frustration could easily be brushed off as a joke, but Vyn hears there is actual hurt in your words.
"You are... quite the anomaly," he replies at last. "You wear both the masks of comedy and tragedy. I couldn't help but wonder which was your real face." He leans closer and whispers, "I want to see my friend's true face, beneath all the masks and pretenses. Is that so wrong, dear?"
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litnerdwrites · 11 months ago
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Time for day two! Today, we're going to be visiting House Pride, with a piece that's pretty near and dear to my heart. So please, be nice, and enjoy. Let me know if you have requests for any character from this series. I think I'll try posting fics even after this week. I have a whole list of head cannons for Emilia x Wrath child too, if y'll want to read it. Let me know! @princeofsinweek
Day 2: Pride/Reflection and Ego
Shattered Reflection - Pride X Wife!Reader
WC:2,059
TW: Body dysmorphia, mention of self harm, blood, accidental cuts on shattered glass, anxiety, insecurity, mention of sex but no smut.
Index: 'Bella' means 'Beautiful' in Latin, Spanish and Italian. Used as nickname, and term of endearment.
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The hurried clicking of heels echoed in the empty hallways, accompanied by the swathes of navy fabric Isabella wasn’t able to gather into her arms before she’d hurried back the way she came. With every step, the ringing in her ears grew louder, threatening to drown out the murmurs of courtiers and well practiced symphonies.
Too thick thighs. 
Too big tummy. 
Too big breasts. 
The words ring in her head, resounding throughout her body. Each syllable is an ache in her heart, and a throb in her temples. 
Isabella clutches at her chest, over the shimmering fabric of her bodice, and forces one foot in front of the other. She stumbles as the hallway leading to her room seems to rock with each step, and the sound of drums carrying from the ballroom, and echoing in her ear certainly don't help. Did the musicians playing tonight have drums? Or perhaps it’s her heart? She didn’t know, nor did she care at this moment. 
She hacks out a cough, reaching out to grab something for support with her free hand as the floor seems to drift closer and closer. Isa vaguely registers the sound of something shattering, and a sticky residue on her hands.
She chokes on a sob, trying to stand, only to stumble again.
This time, when she collapses to the ground, pain shoots through her knees, as well as the uncomfortable sensation of something stuck in her skin. Pieces of a frame? A mirror? Perhaps a vase? She couldn't tell. 
Her throat constricts, a shriek building, demanding to be set free. However, not wanting to draw attention, she forces herself to her feet, ignoring her pain, and begins moving back through the halls until she reaches a familiar hall. Changing her course last minute, Isabella turns from her room, entering one across the hall instead. 
The voices continued ringing in her mind, chastising her.
The whole court can probably hear you stomping around up here. Have you considered dropping a few pounds? 
Shut up.
If you did hit the training yard though, I bet you’d look so pathetic next to everyone else! 
Shut up. 
Are you sure you want to subject them to the sight of you? I mean, look at you.
Her eyes snap to the mirror beside her. In its reflection, she can see a portrait of her Prince, hanging just behind her. It didn’t do his angelic looks justice, nor did it quite convey that sinful smile he used to entice just about anyone to his bed.
Shut up.
She stepped closer to the mirror, glancing between the reflection of herself and the portrait. The ringing started getting louder, as her surroundings vanished and all that was left was the mirror.  
See? Can you really stand beside him like this?
“But… He loves me,” she rasps, though it felt more like trying to herself than refute the thought.
It would be better for his standing as a Prince of Hell if you weren’t around to humiliate him. You should leave. Then you also won’t prevent him from finding Lucia. I bet she didn’t look like this. I’m sure she was slimmer with soft curves. Nothing like you. Too big in all the wrong places. You should disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear. Disappear- 
“SHUT-”
“Count,” 
Her fist stops mere inches away from the mirror. 
“Count,” it commanded again. 
Everything was loud. The squeak of floorboards. The thoughts in her head. The swishing of her dress. All of it. All too loud, and all happening at once. How could she-
“Count,” 
“P-Pride said m-my hair is always done up b-beauti-beautiful,” she stutters, voice choked and raspy from crying. 
Had she been crying? 
“P-Pride said my smile is con-contagious, and my lips are plu-ump, like strawberries,” she add, slowly falling to her knees before the mirror. 
Her heart rate slowly eased, while her vision began clearing at the edges. 
“Pride said h-he loves to- to grab my breasts when he’s stressed, lay his head on them when he’s tired, and kiss them when we have sex,” her voice became steadier with each word she spoke. 
Still, she took deep breaths as more of the room came into focus, and she was able to recognise the navy walls, accented with silver, and ornate furniture that complimented the marble flooring. 
“Pride said he likes my stomach because it’s cute, fun to kneed, a comfy pillow and he enjoys tickling it, even if it annoys me,” This time, Isa’s voice was completely even as she spoke.
“Can you really blame me for wanting to see that blinding smile whenever I please?” 
She whips her head around, noticing the Prince in question leaning against the door frame. Isa can only watch him with wide eyes. 
Pride’s eyes narrow on her, as he takes in her appearance. Shards of a mirror are stuck in her palms, both of which are still bleeding. There’s also blood seeping from a gash he can see on her on her knee, from where it peeks out from under her dress. Although, her face is probably the most heartbreaking sight that Pride’s ever seen. Bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks stare back at him, along with a runny nose and lips that are raw and red from where she bit and pulled at them. 
It was a bad day for her. Pride could tell that much from the moment she wasn’t at the ballroom in time, but while being even the slightest bit late was odd for her, Pride didn’t begin to truly worry until he saw drops of blood and a shattered mirror in the hallway leading to their suite when he went to go find her.
He barely registered using transversa magic to get to his room before he found her crumpled in front of the mirror, a bloody hand pressed against it. He felt his namesake’s sin swelling in his chest as he heard her using the method he taught her to calm down. He’d remembered how bewildered she was the first time he’d told her to order her least favorite features from one to five, one being the least favorite. Confused, she had done as he asked. After that, Pride made her name one compliment, or thing he liked about the fifth feature on that list, two to the fourth, three to the third, and so on, so forth.
“You still need to do the last one, by the way,” he reminds, snapping her out of her daze. 
“Oh, Pride loves squeezing my thighs, spreading my thighs, burying his face in my thighs, thinks my thighs are strong strong, and that there’s a perfect amount of them to bite,” Isa finishes. 
“There’s a good girl,” Pride grins, walking over to pick her up from in front of the mirror. Caring little for the blood dripping everywhere, he deposited her right onto a comfy couch, knowing she’d lose it if he dumped her on the bed and she got blood on it, “Now stay put,” 
Isa only nodded, letting Pride poke his head out of the room for a few minutes. He didn’t go far, and didn’t shut the door. Instead, he stood in the doorway, blocking anyone from seeing in, as he spoke to someone. Moments later, he took something from them, and came back in, shutting the door behind them. When he came back, there were bandages and ointments in his hands, all of which were ceremoniously dumped onto the floor when Pride dropped to his knee. 
Gasping, Isabella tried to stand, only for a stern look to force her back down. Pride never kneeled. For anyone. The only time he’d ever knelt before her was less kneeling and more lying down, and it was just so he could feast on Isa. Now, however, his touches remained reverent as he pulled out the glass, before cleaning and bandaging each wound. 
“Pride-” 
“We’ll talk later, just- Just let me do this first,”    
Isa could only nod. 
When he was done, he carried her to the bed, before leaving and coming back with a simple, blue tunic. Pride had no intention of letting her do anything tonight, it seemed, as he pulled the gown from her body, not caring as the thin ties snapped at the back. After that, he pulled the tunic over her, and gently pushed her to lay on the bed. Moments later, he was climbing in with her, having taken off his formalwear, and coming back in loose trousers. 
“Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, once they were both tucked into bed. 
“It got bad,” she whispered, “Worse than before. I took one look at that ballroom, and suddenly, the thought of food made me want to hurl, and having to spend an evening with others looking at me all night, made me want to tear at my skin,” 
“Has it ever gotten this bad before?” Pride asks. 
“Once, but it was a while before I came here,” she assured him. 
Pride rubs a thumb over her cheek, gentle and soothing. 
“I’m so, so sorry, Bella,” he whispers.
Isa’s heart picks up its pace in her chest. Pride never apologizes either. Well, not to anyone but her anyway. It appears she’s been the exception to many rules, when it comes to Pride. 
“It wasn’t your fault,” she responds, “I’m sorry I made you miss your party. I know how much you love them,” 
“Don’t be. I love you more,” he soothes, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.  
“I have one more thing I need to ask, Bella,” he tells her, suddenly serious.
“Yes?” 
“The glass shards. Did you do that on purpose?” 
“No! No, of course not. I- On my way back up here, everything had overwhelmed me and I was so dizzy, I was reaching for anything to grab onto and I- I ended up grabbing the mirror, and…dropped it…” Isabella trails off sheepishly.
Pride examines her for a moment, his icy eyes carving deep into her flesh, before he finally relents. 
“Alright, good. Please remember, that I don’t know what I’d do without you, my Bella,” he whispers, “So don’t you ever, ever, even consider it.” 
“I’ll try not to,” she whispers, “But sometimes those voices just make too much sense to ignore,” 
“Tell me what it will take to help you, my love. Do you want me to take you on my throne before our whole court, to let them, and you, know who holds whatever’s left of my heart? Is there a person in particular bothering you, that I need to feed to some foul beast somewhere? Do I need to kiss every inch of your flesh until your mind accepts my words as fact? Would you like me to shatter every mirror in my circle, so you can never rely on them to show you yourself again?” he asks desperately. 
“I don’t know,” she whispers honestly. 
“Then try to remember this; You are my wife. You are the first face I see in the morning, the last face I see every night, and the one face I could never be tired of. I love your belly, even if it’s bigger than others’. I love your thick thighs, and plump lips. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you find something you’re interested in. I love the way you squeal when you see something cute. I love the way your smile instantly improves my mood. I love everything about you, my sweet, beautiful Bella,” Pride whispers to each one with conviction, “Whatever you see in your reflection, pay it no heed. Only my view of you matters. Mine, and nobody elses,” 
“Pride-” 
His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to his chest. 
“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Whatever it takes, if it means I won’t lose you!” 
Isabella relaxes in his hold, though her mind is still racing. 
“Just- Just hold me. And help me remember why you love me. Why I love me,” 
“Of course, my beautiful love,” Pride whispers, before he begins listing everything he’s ever loved about you off, one by one. From appearance to personality to memories. Pride leaves nothing out. By the time he’s done, you can barely keep your eyes open. Noticing this, Pride chuckles. “Sleep Bella,” 
“Goodnight, Pride,” 
“Goodnight, my love,”
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foxglovepng · 1 year ago
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Random Headcannons 3 🌼🥀
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Requested: naw
Characters: Scarabia + Pomefiore
A/N: I'm getting back into the writing mood yay I'll probably take requests in the future because I am slowly getting over writer's block. I looked up a word in Arabic and if the word is incorrectly translated incorrectly feel free to correct me.
If you liked reblogs and likes are appreciative <3
Kalim
Knock knock who's there? Autism br br br where the hoes at? not here
I love my Autistic headcanon for Kalim. I also saw a headcanon he has ADHD too. (I forgot the word for ADHD and Autism combined help)
When he's unmedicated Jamil is that one meme of Shinji his stress levels are high. He's practically lived with Kalim so he knows he can get hyper although he pushes through it being used to it.
I headcanon Kalim has sensory issues that mainly have to do with touch. (Mine are sound and taste :skull:)
Since he likes parties and is extremely sociable I feel like sometimes he can get overwhelmed he chills in his sensory swing. I also feel like since he plays the drums he does have backup headphones on hand in case it's too loud.
Jamil tends to calm him down with essential oils (Don't ask me what kind he likes I only know Rosemary, and Cherry blossom)
Jamil
Jamil drop the hair routine or I'll break your ankles Sangwoo style so you can't dance anymore. I will even report your music-listening account so you are no longer allowed to play hip hop DROP THE ROUTINE RN JAMIL
This is my no 2 pookie bear I love him sm ANYWAYS
I feel like in his alone time Jamil has his own hobbies he hides from Kalim and will go above and beyond just to have them to himself. One of those I feel like is reading romance books (Not the feral ones booktok gooners read) romance is one of the genres he reads I feel like he also reads fantasy. (He has read Pride and Prejudice)
He'd probably also go to art conventions on his spare time. He has a sketchbook and draws on occasion (I think he draws similar to Hyunjin's style)
Him and Kalim speak Arabic and English although I feel like when Jamil wants to cuss someone out or insult someone he will bring the Arabic out.
*Ace messes up a play*
Ace: so um great play
Jamil: اهبل (Google says this means stupid/idiot)
Ace: HUH?
Vil
*Throws my genderqueer headcannon at you Eminem style*
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Gender queer Icon Vil.
If I am correct he is referred to as Queen by Rook?? so I believe Vil doesn't really care for pronouns and just simply exists. So Vil would use any pronouns interchangeably.
Also random headcannon but Vil's father is like..famous right? So I feel like he gets insulted and called a Nepo baby.
Peep Epel and Vil get into a fight and Epel calls him a Nepo baby. Oh all hell is breaking loose.
(I also headcannon he'd make an appearance in Eurovision)
Rook
I need Frenchie to become a slur so I can shout FRENCHIE at Rook 24/7
This man either has a really good memory or a diary in which he keeps info of students. (Their height, weight, UM, etc) its freaky ngl. AND NOT A GOOD FREAKY WAY.
I saw some art of him and Floyd in the bathroom and he was peeking over the urinal. BRO KEEP YA EYES ON YA JUNK.
I can imagine certain NRC students have a group chat dedicated to slandering Rook.
He probably knows about it :Skull:
Epel
Guys this my son <3
I am a firm believer he is an Amish hater.
"I hate the way you talk the way you walk" ahh beat.
From a farmer's perspective I don't think he's 100% vegan, but if you bribe him with bbq he will start foaming at the mouth.
Bro probably listens to Dixon Dallas good looking-
He's also a Dolly Parton and Carrie Underwood fan.
I feel like with people he's close with especially the first years he lets his country accent loose and it will get even looser if someone (or Yuu) has a country accent as well. The rest of the first years will be like "They are speaking in tongues"
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storyofmychoices · 1 year ago
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Couples Skate
[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist] 
Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (F!OC) Book: Open Heart Word Count: ~600 Rating/Warnings: general, pointless fluff A/N: Thanks for the request @thosehallowedhalls 💖
Synopsis: Olivia takes Bryce ice skating.
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"I thought you said you knew what you were doing?" His tone hovered between a question and a statement, his amusement evident.
"I said as a child I enjoyed ice skating." She brushed the loose strands of red hair away from her rosy cheeks, taking care to release those stuck to her Chapstick-coated lips. "It's been a while." She readjusted her hat, standing tall as she regained her composure. She stepped away from the railing at the side of the rink, letting the sharp blades of her skates glide across the ice as she once more attempted to skate. She breathed easier as she slid successfully across the glassy surface. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was coming back to her. She had her balance and moved with growing ease. As she circled the rink, she came to an almost too abrupt stop before him. 
"See—" Her infectious smile spread wide across her features. "I told you I could do it! Just like riding a bike." 
"If you say so," he extended his arm, drawing her closer. "You looked beautiful, by the way." 
"Thank you," Olivia tipped her head in pride. "Now, your turn." 
"Oh—" His hand rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm okay here."
"Come on," she laced her fingers with his. "I'll be there the whole time." 
His brow arched, teasingly he replied. "Is that supposed to comfort me?"
"Hey!" Her hands pressed against his chest as she playfully pushed him away, causing them both to wobble on the slippery ice. "Ahh!" She regained her footing just in time to steady him. "See. I've got you."
"And I appreciate that, but I'm fine here," Bryce offered, reaching for the side of the rink.
"You're telling me that super surfer and cardiac surgeon extraordinaire Bryce Lahela is afraid of ice skating?" She teased, her gaze sweeping over the space. "If the children can do it, so can you."
"And as lovely as the children are, that's more your element," Bryce noted, hoping to distract her. 
"You're not getting off that easily. One lap!" She decided, offering her hand again. Her smile faltered slightly, "Besides, I thought you wanted to come?"
"I came for the legendary hot chocolate you promised," he replied with a smirk.
"Well, there's only one way to secure yourself a cup of that delicious hot chocolate. The one with the extra whipped cream and cinnamon on top—" She guided him forward gently. "One lap, and if you still want to leave, we can."
"Okay," he agreed hesitantly, letting go of the railing. "Lead the way."
Slowly, the pair rounded the ice—once, twice, thrice—their confidence and laughter growing with each pass. 
As they completed lap after lap, Bryce's initial apprehension melted away. It wasn't surfing by any means, but it wasn't as bad as he expected. With Olivia by his side, he'd happily skate through the night, even if the children surrounding them were faster and had more than a few tricks to show off. 
"Enjoying yourself?" She bumped him gently.
"With you?" He squeezed her hand softly. "How could I not?"
She pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Wanna get that hot chocolate now?" 
"It can wait," he replied to his own astonishment. "I think I'm getting the hang of this." 
"Easy now," Olivia warned. "Don't get too cocky. I'd hate to see you embarrass yourself in front of the adorable children."
"You know I'd even make falling look good." He wagged his brow.
"Why don't I doubt that," she teased, "but let's see if we can both stay upright."
"I think that can be arranged.... for now!" With a wink and a devilish grin, he guided them forward, the pair gliding across the ice, hand in hand, an unforgettable couples skate.
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If you made it this far thanks. This is just some pointless fluff of these two enjoying a date early in their relationship.
@choicesficwriterscreations
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