#it wasn't the color that i wanted but that was the only thing available
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short-honey-badger · 1 day ago
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Doll 5
Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader
Summary: You find a new friend and take your relationship with Shanks to the next step
* Kissing happens finally!*
Doll Masterlist
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A couple of days pass, and you and Shanks grow closer. One could hardly be seen without the other following behind like a lost puppy. He had taken you back to the bakery each morning and ordered something new for you to try, but the blueberry pancakes were still your favorite since they'd been the first thing that Shanks had ordered for you.
The waitress, whose name was Mel, had found you after her shift and demanded that you go clothes shopping with her. You'd been confused, and asked what was wrong with the plain shirt and black pants you were wearing, and she pointed out that, while you had cleaned them, there wasn't anything wrong with having more than two sets of clothing. You realized that Mel was right after that, and the two of you had gone to find Shanks.
He had smiled upon seeing you with the other woman, glad to see that you had made a friend, and had given you more than enough cash to get whatever you wanted. Mel grabbed you by the hand and away the two of you went. She led you to a boutique run by a wrinkled old lady who had an eye for fabrics, and stood you in the middle of the room while they went on a hunt for fabrics and colors that would suit you the best.
“If you want to move things along with your, - wait. What is Shanks to you? Boyfriend, husband?” Mel asked from behind a pile of clothes that she'd discarded after you tried them on. The no pile was far bigger than the yes pile, and you didn't know what to think about that.
You blushed at her wording. It's a couple of days knowing the redhead, and he'd take you out on breakfast dates and hold your hand whenever the two of you went anywhere. The pirate would toss his arm over the back of your seat, always sitting next to you and making his crew move if there wasn't a seat available. You didn't mind the attention, and you certainly didn't mind all the touching, but putting a label on what the two of you were made you nervous, so you settled for the easy way out.
“Uhm. Just friends, I think,” you told her and pouted at the really look that Mel gives you. Ethel doesn't help when she chines in.
“That pirate of yours acts like my dear Edward, rest his soul, did when we first got together. Don't pretend like there isn't anything there, dear. It'll only hurt you in the end if you do.”
You gnaw on your bottom lip, eyes lost in thought even as Mel hands you a new shirt to try on. You'd seen how couples acted before whenever you were allowed to go down to Sabaody, and it was definitely similar to the way you and Shanks acted. But you just met him, wasn't everything going too fast?
“I don't want to ruin anything,” you whispered after a moment, and in seconds, you had an old lady in your space, wrinkled hands taking her own.
“Can't ruin something if you don't let yourself have it to begin with, dear,” Ethel says kindly, and then squints at the shirt you have on, “Take that off. It doesn't flatter your chest at all.”
You blush and drop her hands to grab the hem to tug the blouse over your head and toss it in the no pile. You are lost in thought for the rest of the evening, wondering if it would be a good idea to talk to Shanks about all of this.
By the end of the trip, Mel and Ethel agreed upon ten different outfits that could be mixed and matched easily. You'd explained to them that you planned to leave with Shanks and would need some sturdier clothing to last out on the sea. Ethel had assured you that the fabrics she used would be perfectly fine and still make you look like a woman, and you couldn't thank the older lady enough. Mel dragged you out of the shop after saying goodbye, her chattering your ear off you, listening to her ramble on about everything and nothing.
Shanks stalked around the town, a frown on his face as he looked for you. He had wanted you to go out and have a good time with Mel, but he hadn’t thought that she would have you all day long. He had missed your presence and may have pouted so much that it had annoyed his ever patient first mate. Benn had sighed and told him to either stop sulking or go out and you, so Shanks had huffed and strutted out of the bar.
He hadn’t found you at the bakery, nor near the beach by the docks. He’d taken you there yesterday and had watched you find shells in the sand. He found it adorable that you seemed so fascinated by something so small and promised you that he’d get you a jar to put our collection in. Getting worried and just the smallest bit annoyed, Shanks made another loop around the town.
Shanks knew that he’d found you when he heard the sound of your laughter. He followed the sound down an alley to see you and Mel sat on the front steps of the bakery, steaming scones in hand. He slowed to a stop and just watched you for a moment, taking in the way you tossed your head back to laugh when your friend told a joke or made a smarmy quip. It was good seeing you like this, relaxed and open with someone that wasn’t him, though that didn’t stop the envy that curled up in his chest. He couldn’t help it, Shanks wanted you to look at him that way.
Which, well, you did, but after that first breakfast, there had been an underlining tenseness that you didn’t seem to notice whenever Shanks got close or whenever he said something flirty. It was almost like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if Shanks acting like this was just a big joke and you were the punchline. But he wasn’t joking or stringing you along. What he felt for you was more than just friendship, and he wished that you could see that.
“I just… I don’t want him to feel forced into this, Mel. I’m not used to having that kind of attention, not where I’m from. It’s hard for me to trust people, and this is all going so fast. How can I ask him to take a chance on me when I’ve already asked so much of him?”
Is that what you thought? That just because he had allowed you on his crew that wanting anything else from him would turn him away from you? The pirate can’t help but snort at such a silly thought. Shanks liked it when you asked for things, liked it when you seeked him out on your own volition.
“Hon, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a wonderful person, and your Red would be dumb to not want you. Which he does, by the way, a blind man could see that. But still, everyone has some kind of past. You just have to be brave enough to face it.”
Shanks watches as you nod and recognizes that determined set of your shoulders and the fire that suddenly blazes to life in your eyes. You look like the night he first met you, eyes resolute and a please for help on your lips. There is a pale pink aura surrounding you, and the emperor has a moment of clarification. You have Haki.
A grin spreads his face. Of course someone as special as you would have haki. You were so brave and beautiful that it’s a slap in his face that he hadn’t noticed it before now. It was no wonder why he was so drawn to you and you to him. Shanks was meant to find you.
The redhead stalks forward without thinking. He needs you to know that he wants you, that with his newfound knowledge, you become all the more irresistible to him. You glance up in surprise, eyes wide and cheeks flushing as he comes to a stop in front of you. He reaches out and snags your hand, an almost desperate look in his dark gaze.
“You’re not forcing me into anything, Doll. I want you for you. For how you make me feel. I’ve not said anything because I don’t want you to feel obligated to me.”
You stare up at your captain, not having expected him to come out of the alleyway, and it makes you wonder how much he overheard. Clearly enough that he feels the need to out his feelings for you in the middle of town. You bite your lip, hand clutching his own as you meet his gaze, “Shanks..”
“I swear to you that I’m not doing anything that I don’t want to do, Doll. Trust me, please?” He says quietly and drops your hand to reach up and cup your face, thumb grazing your lips. Shanks needs you to believe him, “Can I kiss you?”
The question makes sparks rain from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but the thought of feeling his lips on yours makes the decision for you.
The redhead makes a sound of surprise when you suddenly surge up, your mouth smashing into his in an unruly kiss. Shanks takes it in stride, though, kissing back just as roughly, uncaring about your lack of experience. His hand slides from your cheek and up into your hair to hold you still, and eventually, you slow down, allowing him to carefully lead you into a soft press of lips.
Reluctantly, Shanks pulls away but doesn’t go very far. He keeps you close with the hand wrapped in your hair, back bowed so that he can press his brow against yours. You stare at him, eyes watery as you swallow harshly. There is an apology on your lips, but Shanks steals it away with another kiss.
“Don’t you dare take that back, Doll,” He rumbles against your mouth and presses a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod shakily, and then Shanks is releasing you, hand sliding from your hair to take your hand in his. He smirks down at Mel, who looks smug as a cat who got the cream.
“Care if I steal her away now?” He quips, and Mel shoos him with a laugh.
“Go on, lovebirds,” She says and then aims a smile at you, “Told you so.”
You roll your eyes and reach out to squeeze her hand, “Thank you, Mel. I’ll find you tomorrow, okay?”
This would be your last night on this island, and the thought of leaving your new friend behind makes you sad, but you know that it’s for the best. The longer you stayed in one spot, the more you had a chance of being found and taken back to Marie Geois. The other woman waved you both off with a happy smile, and Shanks eagerly pulled you back to the docks and to the beach.
He shrugged off his black cloak and splayed it on the ground, gesturing for you to sit with a sweeping bow. You couldn't help but giggle at the redhead and sat, making sure not to touch the sand too much. You expected Shanks to settle beside you, but instead the pirate sat behind you, long legs splayed on either side of your hips as he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you back to rest against his chest. He sat his chin on top of your head, and you felt yourself completely relaxed, shoulders dropping as you slumped back against your captain.
“You okay with this, doll?” He murmured, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath tickling your ear. His hand was rubbing very distracting circles against your hip, fingers smoothing under your shirt to drag against your flesh. Shanks smiles against your hair when you nod. You didn't trust your voice not to squeak in embarrassment right now.
“Good. I've been wanting to hold you like this for a while, since that night you came and thanked me for letting you join the crew,” He blew a slow breath out, eyes shuttering as he tugged you closer, “You have no idea how special you are to me, sweetheart.”
Shanks considers telling you about the faint aura he'd seen earlier but decided against it. He doesn't want to ruin the peaceful moment the two of you are having, but he will tell you soon. Each of his crew could use haki, and would be essential in teaching you how to harness it yourself. He had promised to teach you everything that he knew, and that would be one of the firsts.
Speaking of teaching you things, Shanks shifted so that he could face you better, a playful grin on his lips as he leaned down into your space, “Was that your first kiss?”
You nodded slowly, lip trapped between your teeth, and Shanks moved his hand up to your face, thumb gently tugging The abused flesh free and stroking your bottom lip. He shivers when you slide your tongue out to wet your lips, the muscle accidentally flicking against his thumb.
“Yeah. Intimacy was forbidden in the household that owned me,” you whisper, and Shanks hums, a frown tugging at his mouth.
“Well you aren't theirs anymore, Darling. So how about we start your first lesson?” He rumbles and smirks when he watches your eyes hood and darken with interest. When you move forward, Shanks meets you halfway, lips pressing into yours as he holds you close in the setting sun.
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sideeve · 11 months ago
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⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”
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﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru
﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban
﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well
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GOJO SATORU (3 days)
“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.
"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.
it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.
“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.
RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)
no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.
“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.
one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.
how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.
he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.
KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)
his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.
due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.
"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.
he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.
"seems like i have some things to make up for."
CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)
"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.
"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.
"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.
"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.
TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)
"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.
you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.
"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.
he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.
GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)
you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.
he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.
"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.
"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.
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frmisnow · 2 months ago
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play pretend ! ₊⟡⋆ nsfw.
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the premise of fake dating your best friend, for just a weekend, is hilarous.. and scary. but what happens after is even scarier.. it's just play pretend right?
warnings / includes — sex, heavy fwb themes, bit of angst
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shame coated you when you woke up in one of the guest rooms, carefully placed onto the bed at about 3am by no other then jungkook while you were dead hungover. pure rotten shame rests in your cheeks, paints them red when you say bye to his family a few hours later as jungkook couldn't quite even look at you.
everything about him was different. the way he moved around you, the way he avoided looking directly at you. hell, even his voice sounded quieter, less confident, like he didn’t know what to do either.
something had changed him, for the worse.
and it was all your damn fault.
you had thought the car ride would give you both time to defrost, pretend that whatever happened the night earlier did in fact not happen, crack some jokes but to no avail — long, defening silence.
silence and shame don't go well together, the color they create on the canvas of yours, it soaked through you. stayed with you for the next five days, it's the color of the message you send him at 11 pm on saturday, asking him how he was doing.
it's the ugly color of the 'delivered' button that stays there for the following two days.
the dress you wear to the next party is bright, anything to drown out the guilt that was eating you alive.
the music is loud, and so are you. laughing a little too hard, moving a little too close to anyone who shows you attention. you take another sip of whatever is in your cup, the liquid burning its way down your throat but dulling the ache in your chest.
and then there’s him.
you don’t see Jungkook immediately, but you feel him before your eyes catch his across the room. you feel the way the air shifts, the way your stomach churns when you notice the familiar set of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker toward you.
you almost drop your drink.
because it feels like a candid flashback of that night—only now it’s all so different. why did things have to be so complicated?
you’re pressed against some guy you barely know, his lips grazing your neck in a way that should distract you. you’ve been letting it happen, letting him flirt, letting his hands wander because it’s easier than thinking about the mess you left unresolved.
but then there’s jungkook. he stands on the other side, the neon light painting his face; his look wasn't judging. maybe light disappointment but more observing then anything, really. and it reminded you of how you used to stare at him whenever he was going after various girls at these exact sorts of parties.
it makes you sick, makes the unfamilar hands on your body feel foul and uninviting, it's not the fire burning through you like it had that night, it's cold ice, slowly creeping through your veins, making it's way to your brain.
said ice whispers things you don't want to hear, reminds you of things you don't want to think about.
"fuck, i think i like you."
you run of upstairs to the nearest balcony, the house was familar one of your mutual friends', this place was where you used to play spin the damn bottle in high school. now it feels haunted, just as univiting as the guy's hands felt a few minutes ago, why did everything feel so distant now? first jungkook, now everything else. why was it so consuming?
you light up a cigarette, you didn't usually smoke but you wanted to feel that fire again, the warmth, the pure need from a week ago. you regreted not having fucked the guy because you were sure he could've made you forget for longer then this cig could.
“thought I might find you here,” he says behind you, kneeling next to you yet keeping a safe distance, his voice low and cautious.
"you shouldn't have," you respond coldly, because anger is a better emotion to feel then regret and you had plenty things to be frustrated about, "you've been avoiding me for a whole week, don't pretend like you give a fuck." you don't meet his eyes, just take another drag.
but you see him flinch in the corner of your eye. great, the guilt sits in you once again.
he shifts slightly, and you can feel the tension radiating off him , “i know I’ve been a jerk, but it’s not that simple—”
“then make it simple.” your voice is sharper than you intended, but the hurt has festered for too long. you finally turn to face him, “i need to know what you want. because this? whatever this is? it’s fucking misery.”
the words hang heavily in the air, and for a moment, silence stretches between you. jungkook looks like he’s grappling with his thoughts, the tension in his body palpable. then, slowly, he closes the distance between you, his eyes softening as he cups your face in his hands.
“can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a whisper, as if the question itself is laced with vulnerability.
you nod, and the moment your lips touch, it’s like everything else fades away. the kiss starts soft, gentle, as if he’s savoring the moment, and you can feel your heart begin to race.
it's nothing like the previous fire you had wished to experience earlier, it's delicate warming sunlight, brushing over your skin, washing away the hideous color that had built over the last few days.
“friends with benefits,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “we get to have this-” he kisses you again, slow and lingering, “—without the pressure of expectations.”
“expectations?” you echo, your mind racing as you try to process his words.
“yeah,” he replies, his lips brushing against yours, each touch sending shivers down your spine. “we can enjoy each other without worrying about where it’s going. just... pure fun.” his hands toy with the hem of your dress, before returning your gaze.
time slips quick, it all feels so raw, so different from that night yet all so much better.
his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, driving deep inside you with a primal urgency. you can feel the way he fills you, stretching you perfectly. you're so glad you aren't drunk, that you'll remember this in the morning and the day after.
you claw at his back, nails digging in, urging him on, needing more, wanting all of him. and he curses, runs his mouth like the talkative brat you knew he always was, degrades you one second, tentatively kisses your cheeks the next.
his hands rest on your tighs as he kisses along your clit once again, sweet, real. taunts you 'for the mess you made on your friend's coach' but he doesn't give you time to feel guilty, just starts nuzzling his face back into your pussy, licking along.
no, jungkook will never make you feel the same guilt again. you're sure of it, well — not that you could really properly think under these conditions anyway.
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explorevenus · 4 months ago
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dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 5.1k
tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n
description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.
a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....
divider by @cafekitsune !!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
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Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.
He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 
That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 
A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 
Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 
Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 
Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 
That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...
...and the reason he had you. 
For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.
"She's a... what?"
"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 
Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 
You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 
"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 
The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 
"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.
That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.
He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 
With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 
You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 
He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 
See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 
It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 
Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 
No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.
Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 
His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 
Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 
Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 
He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 
His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 
It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 
"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 
He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 
"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."
And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.
"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 
But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 
"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 
"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 
You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 
He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 
With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 
"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 
Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 
"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"
You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.
That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.
This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 
"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 
"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 
Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 
How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 
"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 
But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 
"Leon, quit--" 
You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.
Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."
Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 
"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 
So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 
Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 
Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 
There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 
"N-No," You admitted. 
"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 
This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 
For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 
"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"
Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.
It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 
"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 
A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 
It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 
That just wouldn't do. 
"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 
Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 
Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.
You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 
Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 
But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 
His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 
"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 
Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 
As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 
Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 
Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.
Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 
In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 
Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 
Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."
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bea-ce · 7 months ago
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Nobody loves me like you do
..or sweet gestures your boyfriend does for you that has your knees buckling and heart fluttering!
characters: wriothesley, childe, alhaitham, lyney
genre: FLUFF!! FLUFF!!! FLUUUUUUUUUUUUFF!!!
warning's: none really? wriothesley's can be interpreted as spicy maybe, but it wasn't intended to be taken that way. maybe obvious bias...
notes: in my healing era and my lover girl has finally gotten the courage of taking the leap of faith of love once more. this is a little tribute to that, and to my boyfriend who's the cause of it. also sorry for having been dead! real busy with school and being bombared with exams all the time (the things i do to get into medicine...)
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Wriothesley
It had become routine for you to leave the Duke's bedroom with tangled hair and knots that would only come out by putting balm in your hair when you showered. The cause of it? The Duke himself, of course.
Alas, as the saying goes "there's always a peace before a storm". You feel yourself get thrown off of Wriothesley, hitting your back against the matress with a small huff before you feel his weight shift ontop of you, squeezing the air out of you as giggles erupt from you while you try shoving him off of you to no avail.
Finding yourself with half of your body outside of his bed, having long ago accepted that this was the way you'd be handled by your big, strong lover, you hear Wriothesley chuckle and grabbing hold of your wrist to pull you up, back up on his queen-sized bed.
"What are you doing with half your body outside of my bed, sweetheart?" He asks teasingly, causing you to loudly exclaim at him with mock irritation in response "you're the one throwing me around the bed like a dog with its chewing toy!" causing a laugh to erupt from his chest as he pulls you ontop of him to engulf you into another long, warm hug.
It was part of the routine for him to shove his hands under your shirt, his hands roaming across your body as if mapping every part of you out. Unfortunately for you, the Duke had also made it a habit to go on search for your bellybutton for some odd reason. You'd often find yourself kicking your legs to pry him off of you, screaming and laughing as you'd feel him tickling you as his fingers was searching for his destined goal.
"What's wrong with you?! Why are you so fixated on my navel?!" You'd yell at him between laughs, squirming and fighting against his freely wandering hands that come to a halt upon your words and being met by his icy grey eyes staring softly down at you before he so casually says the sentence that has you limp and melting into his touch.
"I'm fixated on you. All of you, and I'm trying to appreciate and love all of you. Am I so wrong for doing that?"
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Tartaglia
There wasn't any special occasion today as far as you knew. No anniversary to be celebrated nor a sappy couples holiday to rub in all the singles people's faces with, so why was it that you could spot your boyfriend with a bouquet of roses in his arms from afar as he waits at the spot the two of you would always meet up on before heading out for your date?
"Am I not allowed to spoil my girl with flowers whenever I feel like it?" He had responded with a mock offended laugh as his free arm wrapped around your waist to return your gesture of pulling him into a tight hug (in all honesty you had just wanted to burrow your face into his chest to hide your teary eyes from him). You can feel his hand rub your side comfortingly, traveling its way up to pet the top of your head before pressing his lips against your forehead reassuringly, an unspoken 'I love you' before pulling you away from his chest to show you his soft smile, reserved just for you.
Inspecting the lovely roses enthrusted upon you, taking in their lovely red, almost pinkish, color as you walk besides Tartaglia. You can't imagine them having been cheap, given both their look of long stems, healthy leaves and from just how fresh they look, along with just how strongly they smelt of roses. Tartaglia's hand finds your free one as you aimlessly walk. A lighthearted laugh that escapes Tartaglia makes you turn your focus to him, noticing the way he's beaming at your fondness of the flowers. "You know I looked a really good while for those flowers you said that you liked, only to have the florist tell me that they only grew wild in another nation. I was super upset that I couldn't get you your favorite flowers!"
He'd give you the world if he could.
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Alhaitham
Matching Alhaitham’s thirst for knowledge, you’d often find yourself searching for new subjects to learn about. It wasn't uncommon that the facts you had learnt for the day were things Alhaitham already were somewhat versed in, but to immerse oneself further into a subject was anything but adverse, and even if nothing new was added to his knowledge a bit of repetition never hurt either.
It did happen from time to time that you’d come across information that would never come to any use. Just fun facts to share with someone, and Alhaitham would often fall victim to your ramblings (not that he minded, much less had any complaints about that). As always, you find yourself walking hand in hand with the scribe, your mouth having gone dry from how long you had passionately held a monologue with yourself of a new useless fact you had learnt. Thinking that Alhaitham couldn’t be bothered with trivial, impractical information and that his silence was a sign of that, you can’t help but let a thought slip past your lips. 
“Are you even listening?” you had asked him with a whisper, your hand giving his a light squeeze as your footsteps had come to a stop, halting the man beside you and forcing him to face you. His light turquoise eyes scan over yours, softening before a faint smile traces his lips as he nods. “Of course I’m listening. Don't mind me if I just want to listen. It's where I find the most comfort."
Alhaitham’s unwavering focus is on you. It’s always on you.
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"Tada!" You hear his voice burst your little bubble, a curious hum erupting from you as you glance in Lyney's direction. A faltering swan is handed to you from him, looking soggy and sad due to the tissue's soft material and perhaps even because of the magician's untrained hands from lack of practice of origami. You don't miss the way your boyfriend smiles at you before staring intently at you, awaiting your approval of his creation.
Lyney
Sitting across you at the small café Lyney can be seen fiddling with his tissue, his plate having long been empty with only crumbs left behind of the pastry that had formerly been there. Too distracted by the scenery around you, you fail to notice the magician's hands working away on a little surprise for you.
You can't help the laugh that escapes you, due to the cute gesture of his, causing the poor man to deflate in embarrassment and shame, mistaking your laughter as being directed at him because of how just pathetic the swan looks like- The piece of paper faltering too in solidarity with its creator.
Quickly placing down the gift from Lyney, you wave your hands in the air defensively, quick to reassure him, "No, no! I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing over how cute you are being, Lyney! Thank you."
Your encouraging words is all that he needs to regain his confidence and smile right back at you with the same adoring gaze you always have saved for him.
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blackbleedingrose · 9 months ago
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part Three
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Emily x reader (platonic), Sera x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Betrayal
Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal
Notes: This is the third installment of LLM. This part will be shorter than part 2 and will finally go over the trial and (Y/N)'s reaction the extermination. I'm going to be honest, I'm dropping my other hazbin mini series. This is only until I can find the time and motivation to write it. I'm really busy with school and work, and lately my obsession with Hazbin has started to die down. I still love the series and fandom, but that's just something that happens to me from time to time when I watch a new series or get into a fandom. It comes and it goes, and I've been reading a lot of hazbin stuff but now it's starting to feel like an obligation I've set for myself and it makes reading less fun and more like a chore. I have no doubt my obsession will come back when the 2nd season comes out. This happens will all the fandoms I am apart of - like right now, I'm obsessing over Avatar the last airbender again after rewatching the series (not the live action). Don't worry, I'll continue this series as I don't want this to end up unfinished. I have the outline pretty much written, but it will take time to finish - so, please, bare with me.
Singing Colors: Adam, Lute, Charlie, Emily, Sera, (Y/N).
Words: 1631
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
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As the time of the trial drew closer, there seemed to be a few hiccups on Heaven's side of things.
The angel who was supposed to be the trial's stenographer got a nasty cold and all the replacements had their own responsibilities to attend to. The only angel available just so happened to be (Y/N) herself.
When one of the court angels asked (Y/N) if she could do it, she didn't hesitate to accept.
Now she had the perfect excuse to watch Charlie's trial without having to sneak in!
Imagine Sera's surprise and horror when she saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk.
"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Where's Angela?" Sera asked. She was a bit panicked, but did her best to hide it. (Y/N) smiled politely at the higher seraphim, clearly oblivious to Sera's rigid demeanor. "She got a pretty bad cold last minute and all of the other replacements were busy today; and since I was the only one who was available - here I am!".
Sera gave her an uneasy smile, "I see. Thank you for your help today, it's much appreciated". This was the last thing she wanted. The resemblance between (Y/N) and the Princess of Hell was very difficult to ignore and could raise questions if it wasn't for the stardust story Heaven fed everyone.
Sera had wanted to keep (Y/N) away from the trial in hopes of avoiding any contact between her and Charlie. She didn't want (Y/N) to accidently discover the truth about her lineage.
Sera loved (Y/N) like a daughter.
When (Y/N) was younger Michael would sometimes have Sera babysit while he attended to his more serious duties.
She practically helped raise her and she refused to let some misguided demon princess and her partner ruin that.
Unfortunately, the court needed a stenographer.
With no one else available, she was left with no other option.
Sera thanked (Y/N) for her hard work and for stepping in.
She gave the girl a gentle forehead kiss before leaving her to prepare for the trial.
It was only for today and once this pointless trial was over everything would go back to the way it was.
And (Y/N) would be none the wiser and away from that misguided influence.
However, things weren't as perfect as Sera had hoped for.
The moment Charlie and Vaggie entered the courtroom and saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk, the two cousins eagerly waved at each other.
Sera's eyes widened in horror. No. This wasn't supposed to happen - it was the worse case scenario.
When did those two meet?!
She sighed in frustration already knowing that (Y/N) must have sought the girl out herself.
Dammit Emily.
(Y/N)'s curiosity was her biggest flaw and was going to end up getting her into serious trouble if not handled properly.
Sera quickly composed herself. No point in losing herself and catching any unnecessary attention.
She still had a trial to run and then she'll have a talk with (Y/N) later.
Now, (Y/N) was nice to just about everyone. She could get along with just about anyone she's ever met. But there was one person, or rather two, she just couldn't stand.
Adam and his little crony Lute.
These two irritated her to no ends with how high and mighty they acted. How either of them managed to stay in Heaven was beyond her.
Her father just told her to bare it, despite him also disliking the two of them - especially that narcissistic douchebag Adam.
(Y/N) did her best to hide her grimace whenever Adam spoke during the trial.
As the trial went on (Y/N) felt a little nervous when Charlie was shut down from making anymore definition references. She could see how nervous her poor cousin was getting.
When Charlie looked over at her, (Y/N) made sure to give her a small smile and mouthed, "You've got this".
This managed to help calm Charlie's nerves enough for her to regain her composure. Charlie got a little more confident when presenting Angel Dust, the hotel's first patron.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes when Adam spoke up again trying to discredit her cousin.
"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?".
Charlie's question stumped more than just Adam. (Y/N) had to take a moment to think - how does someone get into Heaven?
Being Heaven-born (Y/N)'s never had to be on the other end with humans who had to earn their place in paradise. And if someone as crude and vile as Adam can get into Heaven then what did it take for others, especially the damned who didn't deserve Hell - like children, for example.
Adam quickly wrote on a piece of paper before giving it to Vaggie to read aloud.
"'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?' - are you fucking serious?".
"Uh, yeah. Sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?".
(Y/N) raised a brow. That's all it took to get someone into Heaven?
Charlie tried to argue Angel was doing all of those things, to which the court decided to observe Angel through the courtroom's orb. At first, things weren't looking good for Charlie when Angel gave into peer pressure.
(Y/N) bit her lip, silently hoping this would somehow take a turn for the better. She really wanted Charlie to show her hotel worked and for Adam to eat his words.
Luckily, things did start looking up when Angel took care of his friend, Nifty, and defended her from that awful moth demon.
"Then why isn't he here, huh?".
(Y/N) paused her typing - why isn't he here?
This started a whole argument at the unfairness of it all. How even those in Hell could be redeemed if only given the chance. (Y/N) and Emily saw the change in Angel and how he did everything on Adam's list.
"A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month".
. . . Wait what?
(Y/N) furrowed her brows in confusion. One month? What was he talking about?
"Gotta say I can't wait to-"
"Adam".
(Y/N) looked up at Sera, did she know what he was talking about? What the hell was going on?!
"Come down and exterminate you".
. . . WHAT?!
(Y/N) and Emily looked horrified at the shocking news.
"Wait!".
"Shit!".
(Y/N) and Emily fly over to Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lute looking sadly at the orb showing the residents in Hell being mercilessly killed by the exorcists.
"What are you saying?"
"Let me get this straight".
"You go down there and kill those poor souls?".
"You didn't know?".
Charlie was shocked to hear that not all of Heaven knew about the exterminations. She was relieved to hear that her cousin didn't know and that she seemed to be against it.
"Whoops!".
"Guess the cat's outta the bag!".
"What's the big deal?".
(Y/N) and Emily turned and looked up at Sera.
"Sera tell us that you didn't know".
"I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder".
"No".
"You have to listen, it was such a hard decision".
Sera flew down from her seat.
"I wanted to save you".
She took (Y/N) and Emily's hand in her own.
"The anguish it takes to, do what was required".
The hellfire reflecting in Sera's eyes unnerved (Y/N) and Emily - almost like she enjoyed the suffering and senseless murder of the sinners in Hell.
The two glared at Sera.
"To think that we admired you".
They tore their hands from hers and flew back away from her.
"Well, we don't need your condescension! We're not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretention? Were we too naive to expect you, to head the morals you're purveying?".
The two flew back down in front of the orb.
"That's what the fuck I've been saying!".
Charlie walked over to the two angel's grabbing their hands.
(Y/N), Charlie, and Emily moved up and stood on top of the orb showing the exorcists killing sinners.
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
"Emily! (Y/N)!".
"If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky!".
The three jumped down and stood before Sera.
"The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say! When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!".
Things only continued getting worse with Charlie finding out Vaggie was an angel and an ex-exorcist, Sera's final ruling of no evidence of sinners being able to be redeemed, and Adam's threat of coming to their hotel first.
"Charlie, it will be okay! I'll find a way to help you - I promise!" (Y/N) called out before Charlie and Vaggie were forced to back to Hell.
After Sera had finished talking to Emily, she went after (Y/N) who had already left the courtroom.
"(Y/N)! Wait, please!" Sera begged grabbing (Y/N) by her wrist. "Please, let me explain!".
(Y/N) turned her head and glared at Sera with such intensity it sent shivers down the High Seraphim's spine. She's never seen (Y/N) look at her like that before.
It broke her heart to see the girl she's helped raise and thought of as a surrogate daughter look at her with such anger and disgust.
"Explain what, Sera?! That you've been here playing God and allowing the murder of sinners! They're already in Hell, what more could you possibly want?! They don't deserve this!" (Y/N) yanked her wrist from Sera's hold and flew away.
She couldn't believe this had been going on and she never even knew! Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her poor cousin. She knew needed to do something to help Charlie.
But first, she needed to see whether or not her father and the other archangels knew about this all along.
Taglist:
@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc
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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 months ago
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Day 3: favorite scent
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Masterlist flufftober 🎃
Reblog if you liked it!
When you entered the conference room, the first thing you noticed was the strong scent filling the place. It was men's cologne, and as soon as it hit your nose, it completely overwhelmed you. But it wasn't an unpleasant dizziness; on the contrary, the woody artificial scent drove you wild. You loved autumn simply because of that.
“Sorry for the delay,” you apologized to the team, dropping into the last available seat. Next to Spencer.
You quickly grabbed the file that was on the table in your spot and took a glance at your colleague, who gave you a shy smile. You were a bit lost with the specific part your colleagues were reviewing, and he, noticing your confusion, leaned in to help you. That’s when the scent you had noticed earlier intensified, and when you turned to him, you realized it was coming from his body.
You registered your colleague’s light-colored shirt with a neatly tied black tie around his neck. His golden hair slightly brushed his cheek as he helped you, and suddenly you felt nervous, without really understanding why.
Reid found the file you were working on and then placed the folder in your hands. You whispered a small thank you, and he gave you a nonchalant expression, trying to tell you it was no trouble at all.
You had a rule you always tried to stick to, and that was not dating colleagues at work. Simply because it always complicated things. Morgan flirted with you all the time, but that was something he did indiscriminately, so you never took it too personally. As for the rest of the team members, they knew how to keep things professional, plus they were old enough to be your dad. However, that day you wondered if it would be worth ignoring that rule for someone like Spencer.
He was a broken guy, no doubt, and somewhat different from the others. But he was also sweet, polite, so intelligent, and humble that sometimes you found it hard to believe that so many good qualities could fit into one person. And the guy wasn’t bad-looking, to be honest. Although he wasn’t really your type, since you’d always dated more muscular men with a different lifestyle, exceptions could always exist.
And honestly, maybe his scent had something to do with your sudden fascination with him, because every now and then you sneaked glances at him as if you wanted to admire him with other intentions, not just as your colleague.
“Are you okay?” he asked once JJ finished presenting the case. That swollen belly from pregnancy was already starting to show, and you wondered when she would take her maternity leave.
“Yes, why do you ask?” you exclaimed absentmindedly.
“Oh, it’s just that you were late. You’re never late. And besides, you were looking at me a lot during the meeting, so I thought maybe you were worried about something and wanted to tell you that if you need to talk, you can tell me.”
Oh, sweet, sweet boy.
“I’m perfectly fine, Reid,” you laughed. Everyone had already left the conference room. “It’s just that I was so tired last night that I forgot to set my alarm, and then I overslept. But it’s nothing to worry about. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
“Maybe you should buy an alarm clock. Did you know the first alarm clock was invented by watchmaker Levi Hutchins in 1787? But it was for personal use only because he made it to wake himself up at 4 a.m. to go to work.”
“I didn’t know that. I’ll probably take your advice and get one,” you smiled at him, already used to hearing him have facts about practically every subject.
“Well, you know that if something’s bothering you… you can tell me whenever you want, okay?”
The sweetness and kindness of this man touched you, and you stretched out to hug him, hoping it didn’t cross the line of trust, as it was well-known that the doctor wasn’t too fond of physical contact. However, he gladly received you in his arms, making sure to hold you as close as possible.
“I know. You’re a good friend, Reid,” you thanked him softly. Once you broke the hug, you didn’t completely pull away, taking a moment to lean toward his clothes and inhale deeply. “Is your cologne new?”
“Uh, yeah. A gift from Morgan. But I think it’s too strong. I don’t know if I should keep using it…”
“I completely love the smell of wood,” you blurted out. “And it suits you very well. It matches you.”
Upon receiving that compliment, the boy blushed just a little, and still with his hands on your waist, he tried to suppress a smile.
“Well, in that case… if you like it, I’ll keep wearing it.”
“No! I didn’t mean that, it was just an observation. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”
“My concern was bothering people with the scent. But now I see that’s not the case.”
A giggle escaped your lips, and then you pulled away, thinking that if you stayed in that position any longer, it could be considered inappropriate contact.
“I’ve always believed that a handsome man should wear good cologne. We women love that.”
The words left your mouth before your mind could reflect on them, and although you were embarrassed, you weren’t going to take them back. Spencer didn’t know which was worse: the fact that you had just implied he was handsome or that you were suggesting you were charmed by it.
“I’ll keep that in mind from now on,” he murmured playfully, almost bordering on a flirtatious tone.
The two of you walked out the door, chatting about a few other things so you could fully focus on analyzing the case once you got on the jet. During that time, he was thinking about two things he definitely didn’t want to forget: thanking Morgan and making sure to put on cologne every morning without fail.
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pressureplus · 3 months ago
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hello!! can i pls ask for headcanons or a lil story abt sebastian coping with the loss of expendable reader he had relationship with? like they knew eachother long enough and had a lil sum going, and out of the blue reader gets really hurt and dies in sebs arms (doesn’t come back either like how u would in the game, ik some stories follow that) need that angst !!!
(keep up the amazing work also!! i love ur guys stories and hc :3)
Thank you, all of your support means so much to us, we're so happy you guys like our work!
Anyway, here, have a little angst in the form of some Headcannons! I turned the angst on this one aaaall the way up for you by making you not only a lover, but literally the centerpiece of this man's life, he was OBSESSED and COMPLETELY IN LOVE with you to a crippling extent ❤️
Sebastian Solace Grieving Headcannons
Warnings: Death, Grief, a mention of injury as a metaphor, and the light implications of Suicide
◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟
• When you passed, it didn't feel real to him... It still doesn't.
• You'd been in his arms when it happened, his large, clawed hands clutching you like you were slipping away from him- and you were.
• He had begged you not to leave him here, pleading and bargaining like it might keep the light in your beautiful eyes for a while longer
• But it was to no avail. Now, he is alone.
• He doesn't talk to the expendables anymore, shutting everyone out was the very first thing that he did when he had to wake up in your shared bed by himself that first morning after what had happened
• He knows you wanted him out of here, and it's the only thing that keeps him alive most days
• That and the need to put an end to HADAL the way that it put an end to you.
• He blames the company, yes, and he definitely blames what or who actually killed you, but the rest of that guilt rests on his own shoulders
• "I should have been there... I should have done something to stop it."
• "Why is it I could only cry?"
• "I don't even know what I'm going to do now that you're gone, Y/N..."
• "Please... Please come back?"
• Doesn't see a future for himself anymore, now that he knows what it is to have you in his life, he just doesn't want anything else
• His existence is solely for spite and for vengeance, now, no point in attempting to move on
• Is more aggressive, generally, to an extent he will get hostile with people more often and even become an active threat to anyone that enters the shop without actively purchasing something from him
• The thought he may grow attached to someone again is one that haunts him, he will be having absolutely NONE of that ever again
• He's a broken man
• Sometimes, he dreams that he can hold you the way that he knows you used to like, and he gets to lay in bed when he wakes up remembering how sweet it was to kiss you and how wonderful your laugh used to be
• He'll lay awake and miss you... But the reminiscing is the only time he's even close to happy anymore
• It's an abstract sort of closeness, the comfort he finds in allowing himself to linger in your memory the only real ease that he takes anymore
• It's a fresh wound that he seems to genuinely enjoy leaving to bleed, definitely not a healthy way to brew in his ever growing sorrow
• The long, long months he spends in the Blacksite alone are empty and void of what little life they'd managed to have before. The color in everything is drained out like the hope that he'd managed to hold onto for so long
• When he eventually leaves and leaks the information that actually DOES end up avenging you, he watches HADAL fall to ruin, unable to get their prisoners anymore and unable to continuing to stay upright for it
• Watching that place burn brought him some peace, honestly, but it just wasn't enough. Nothing was ever going to be enough without you
• He only has one thing left to do. He knows there's really only one thing left he can do for you.
• The public will find his body strung over a gravesite with your name on it the very next morning after everything came to it's close on his plans, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a newspaper with an article on HADAL's corruption on the cover, and whatever little treasures you'd given him over the years in his still, clawed hands
• And for the first time since you left him:
• Sebastian is smiling.
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vietcrepes · 5 months ago
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moments with the sbg characters that made one of you wonder — is there more between you two?
◡ ✶ featuring: the main 6 from school bus graveyard
notice board: gn!reader as always, logan is ooc, so is aiden lowk, this is not my best work (💔), not proof read, mentions of food in logan taylor n tyler's part, the occasional swear word
◡ ✶ word count: im just a girl
୨୧ ASHLYN BANNER
you two were killing time before ashlyn's ballet lesson, although her mom was nowhere to be found. "shit, I need to do my hair" ashlyn muttered, returning to her room where you were scrolling through instagram. peeking behind the pillow you were rested against, a light bulb formed.
"I'll just do your hair, what could go wrong?" to be fair, you've had a fair amount of experience doing hair, and considering how long ashlyn's was, it'd either be a dream or nightmare to style. for your sake, let's say it was the former.
so that's how ashlyn landed sitting in front of you, sat between your legs as you attempted to replicate the hairstyle you'd seen ashlyns mom do so many times before. "thanks for doing this" she spoke up, her limbs felt frozen. she's very in tune with her emotions, but this one she couldn't figure out. why was she so nervous around you suddenly? it's not like this is anything new or out of her comfort zone. it's her hair, it's constantly being done by other people.
"it's no problem, you know im always there for you, right?" you stated, not thinking much of it, but ashlyns brain was put in overdrive. she tried rationalizing it, you were attractive. normal people are usually nervous and flustered around attractive people. yeah. that's exactly it. by the time you finished doing her hair, ashlyn had two explanations for what she was feeling. either she was just flustered by your kindness or she was flustered by you.
the last smile you sent her way answered which one it was as she entered ballet class with one question in mind, how?
‧˚₊꒷ click for the rest!
୨୧ AIDEN CLARK
"let's go to the fair" replayed in your mind as aiden clark dragged you to the brightly colored festivities. he had asked you at 6pm, when you had already decided to eat dinner and play games on your phone for the rest of the day. you trudged along, squeezing your eyes shut to adjust to the harsh lights.
your sordid mindset about the fair quickly changed in the face of the countless plushies and games to be won. sure, they were rigged, but who cares? you were getting ready to play your 4th game of the night when you felt a tug on your sleeve.
"let's go on that ride" aiden's eyes sparkled and had a shine brighter than any of the nauseating fair lights as he pointed to the biggest ride in the damn park. honestly, you should've known this was going to happen... it was only a matter of time
"aiden, no-" you paused, wondering how the hell you were going to talk aiden out of a premature death by rollercoaster. oddly enough, you didn't have to. aiden dropped your sleeve as he returned to helping you with whatever game you wanted to play, a smile dawning his face like always.
this cycle continued for the rest of the night, aiden trying to drag you to the insanely large rides, you declining in favor of something tamer or, even better, something that wasn't a ride at all. by the end of it you had managed to evade every death defying ride available. "well that was fun!" aiden said, looking up at the sky as the two of you headed home. your reply was laced with confusion, "even if you didn't get to ride those things from hell?" masked as a joke, it didn't take a genius to know that it was odd for aiden to listen to others so easily.
"who cares about some ride?" he said, kicking a rock that had come across his path, "I didn't go to the fair for the rides, I went there to hang out with you" the gesture was sudden, and you avoided looking at him due to the sudden nature.
"what the hell is wrong with you..." aiden only grinned further at your meager attempt at an insult "I'm great, what do you mean?"
୨୧ BEN CLARK
ben had recently broken his earbuds. it wasn't news to him, they were old but even with the damage it was still usable. soon enough, the daily annoyances that came with using anything broken got to him. today especially, as his earbuds were officially rendered useless and his mood turned sour.
as luck would have it, today was a free work day in class (aka do whatever the hell you want). while his other classmates chatted away, he was taking a nap. at least, he was. a post-it note hit his desk, and he quickly recognized your handwriting. 'you look like you've been in an off mood lately, so I got you a gift!' he failed to register just what the hell you meant until a brand new set of earbuds appeared in front of him.
looking up, he found you beaming down at him. he pulled out a pen, his mind running as he attempted to analyze what this could mean. you took a seat in the desk next to his and watched intently as ben unwrapped and got a feel for the new earbuds. they were nice quality, similar to his old ones but worlds better. it had been a well thought out, attentive, and all in all considerate gift. the more he registered what was happening the quicker his heart paced. he scribbled on the same post-it you had handed to him.
'thanks, i appreciate it'
୨୧ TAYLOR HERNANDEZ
you were exhausted, working at your family business had driven you insane and constantly picking up calls to be met with bitter temperament surely wasn't helping. you had just finished up a rather mundane task, and were ready to enjoy the few minutes of rest as you pulled out a book. unfortunately, the business phone rang. you groaned, dealing with people who couldn't even hear you properly through the ancient box that was the business phone was not your thing. you let the phone ring for a bit before answering, quickly going through the "how may I help you" line you've repeated countless times today.
"it's taylor hernandez, is Y/N working today?" the bright voice chirped, and you bit back a smile "this is Y/N, what do you need tay?" you leaned back in your chair.
"oh that's great! take a look outside" taylor abruptly hung up, leaving you confused as you glanced through the windows. there, in all her glory, was taylor holding a bag of your favorite food place. you knew she was working at her mechanics shop that day, so why would she go out of her way to spend her lunch break (and money) on you? the questions were left unanswered as taylor walked in, beaming and graciously handing you the bag.
a quick glance and you recognized it, your exact order from this place. you never recalled telling taylor what your regular order was, but you didn't have the opportunity to ask questions as she was gone as quickly as she came. your relatives and the regulars quickly swarmed you with questions. namely "is that your girlfriend?" obviously, you had denied all the allegations, but you couldn't ignore the part of your brain that wanted to tell them that you two were dating.
୨୧ TYLER HERNANDEZ
you and tyler weren't close, but the two of you were tasked with a quick snack run since the seven of you had emptied the kitchen in aidens house. it was comfortable silence, and you briskly walked to the nearby convenience store, hands in your pockets to ensure you wouldn't lose the precious money given to you. all was going as expected, idle chat filling the physical space between you two until tyler slowed his pace.
he grabbed your arm, his hold gentle and his eyes directed away from you, as he moved behind and next to you. now, he was walking next to the bustling traffic and you were trailing behind, dazed and confused.
"what are you doing? hurry up before aiden starts texting me complaints" tyler called back, clearing his throat and covering a part of his face. if you looked closely enough, you could see a dark red hue resting on his ears.
"right, sorry" you mutter in apology before going on to talk about which candies to get. a part of your brain didn't move on from the event that had occurred though, and the fluttering feeling you felt only confirmed things further; you fucked around and found out (caught feelings).
୨୧ LOGAN FIELDS
the two of you had decided to a bit of research on possible explanations and something logical behind the phantom realm you'd found yourself in. countless websites had been pulled up, and a quick trip to the library had proven fruitless, ending up with the two of you getting some food to raise your spirits.
as you nibbled away at your cookie, you scribbled nonsensically. "find something?" logan asked, joining you on his bedroom floor. "yeah, a really bad drawing of a phantom" you said, ripping the page out of your notepad and passing it to him. you sighed, ruffling your hair as your brain reached mental capacity.
mindlessly brushing off any possible cookie crumbs from your face, you redirected your attention to the only website that has given much of any information about your situation. it was bleak, but it was better than nothing. "you missed something" logan pointed out, and your eyes darted through the website, hoping for some new discovery. you were only met with his smile as he reached his hand up to brush away the crumbs you had missed in your haste.
"... oh" you said, swatting away his hand as he laughed, both of you having pink hues that were blissfully dismissed. after all, you two were just friends. but it was odd, how that moment had led to you both being clumsy in the midst of the groups midnight adventures, and how everyone had noticed how the air shifted between you two.
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writers note: referenced red's Instagram stories for ashlyns bit and it helped a ton 😭 some of these have happened to me irl but I had to change things up a bit to keep it interesting 😷 hopefully it turned out good enough tho, I got carried away with aiden's bit. i dedicated my entire soul into this Tumblr algorithm do me a favor and my life is yours
ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ requests are open ⁺ ✦ ᰍ̠
‧˚₊꒷ likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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gamergirl-niffler · 1 year ago
Note
I could use some comforting, you know? Can I ask for Kyōjurō, Sanemi, Muzan and Gyutaro with a girlfriend who lost their sight in battle (for slayers - in the battle against Muzan; for demons - in the battle against demon slayers)
Ohhh sweetie! I did my best, I hope you'll like what I did!
Demon Slayer men & demons x blinded s/o
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Sanemi 
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- Everyone sees Sanemi as a cold man. The one that doesn't really care about anyone else, but he does care about you. 
- This soft side is a secret, available only for you (and his little brother, sometimes) to witness.
-  He visits you every day if he only can. When he needs to leave for more than a day, he not only informs you, but also asks (better word would be orders) Genya to visit you to 'fill in' for him.
-  When he is with you, Sanemi is a completely different man. He isn't the same Shinazugawa that everyone knows.
- Sanemi can of course help you around. He is cleaning and cooking for you, making sure you are as comfortable as possible.
- His favorite part is when the two of you sit on the egawa and enjoy the beautiful day.
- This can't be more perfect. He is holding you close in a tight embrace while talking.
- Sanemi loves you deeply, but there is one thing he will never tell you. He blames himself for your sight loss, it's his fault your beautiful eyes lost the shine and color because he wasn't there to protect you.
- You always seem to feel when he slips into those thoughts. Your one hand grabs his while the other moves back into his hair.
- Your touch brings him back to the right place. You are still with him. That's the most important.
- He is going to fucking rip apart the demon that did this to you.
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Kyojuro
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- Kyojuro is a good and affectional man. 
- He remembers his dear mother and how much help she needed, so he is here to deliver and assist you.
- Similar to Sanemi, he visits you with Senjuro or asks him to visit you whenever he himself isn't available.
- Every day Kyojuro is taking you for a walk, describing what he sees. Whenever he sees a dog or cat, he calls them over just so you can pet them.
- He loves to eat with you. Kyo is sitting close when the two of you enjoy the meal, talking about all the flavors.
- Kyojuro isn't feeding you. You aren't a child, you can eat on your own, BUT he is there just in case.
-  Since losing your sight, you cannot enjoy a good book. Thankfully, your sweet boyfriend is there. Kyojuro finds a comfortable spot for the two of you to sit and then starts to read for you.
- Of course it's not just reading, he is doing the best job possible. He is even making funny voices if needed.
- When you doze off on his shoulder, he chuckles softly. After putting the book away, he moves you to your bed.
- Kyojuro tucks you in and stays by your side, just in case you suddenly wake up. He doesn't want you to feel sad and/or scared when he isn't next to you.
- Revenge isn't a good thing, but Kyojuro will deliver it to the demon that harmed you.
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Gyutaro
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- He is angry.
- Some pathetic slayer dared to put his filthy hands on his beloved.
- Because of the cursed blade slayers carry around, you cannot heal.
- How could they hurt his treasure! 
- Gyutaro in some way sees it in a good way - with your eyes gone, you don't need to look at his ugly body. He even tells you this at some point
- You scold him for this.
- You are so precious to him that you aren't allowed to leave his side.
- Of course Gyutaro is taking care of you as much as he needs to.
- While hunting, he shares his food with you.
- He doesn't want you to starve, and he is hoping that once you get strong enough, you'll be able to regenerate or change your body to regain your sight.
- Gyutaro isn't into cuddles, but things like this... But for you, he is ready to do this, just to make you happy.
- While he cuddles you, he is telling you everything he loves about you, and you do the same for him, making him groan.
- He makes sure that the slayer who crippled you is eaten by you and him.
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Muzan
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- The Demon King is furious!
- Slayer who dared to deprive you of your sight did not live to see another sunrise.
- He just gained one more reason to get rid of the slayers. No one cripples his beloved.
- Upper Moons as well as other pathetic demons are sent out to hunt down each member of the corps. He will feed them all to you!
- You are his special demon with even more special treatment.
- Your Demon King loves to cuddle you and keep you close. Afterall you are his treasure, he doesn't want to ever let you go, especially now.
- No Demon is allowed to disrespect you or look down on you. It means death.
- Muzan makes sure you never go hungry. How could he?
- He is working on his research, and you are there, listening to his voice and adding your own thoughts or ideas.
- Behind your back, he is working on a way to bring your sight back. He is ready to do everything he can to help you.
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bloodbruise · 8 months ago
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@croptopjames happy birthday to the one and only jfp <3
jegulus | 933 words | trans reg & themes of gender identity and transition
Regulus felt his cheeks heat up as he snapped out of his daze and met James' eyes. He was wearing a knowing look, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping this," James declared, his smirk widening. "Especially if it gets this kind of reaction from you every time."
Regulus’ room was a disaster. James had finally coaxed him into sorting through his old clothes, only managing after he bribed him with promises of kisses and takeout afterwards. The closet had all but exploded, leaving piles of clothes scattered all across the room. With ‘yes’s,’ and ‘no’s,’ and ‘maybes’ occupying every available flat surface, Regulus was sure he hadn't seen the darkened wood of his floor in hours. 
Sat on his bed, he watched as James dug through his dresser for another shirt. He let out a thoughtful hum as he grabbed two, throwing one over his shoulder and holding up the other: an awful plum-colored blouse. His mother had bought it for him—form-fitting, smothered in ruffles, and, in her words, “the perfect blouse for a sophisticated young woman.” 
Regulus thought it was the ugliest fucking shirt he had ever seen.
“Ugh,” Regulus wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Absolutely not, that thing is a monstrosity.” 
James barked out a laugh, amused at the disgust evident on Regulus' face, before flinging the shirt into the rapidly growing ‘no’ pile. He grabbed at the one resting on his shoulder.
“And this one?” 
It was worn, fabric soft from years of wear. The dark green and gray had dulled, now just muted shadows of their original hues. The words printed on the front, cracked and creased, read ‘Hogwarts Women's Rowing’. It had been his favorite shirt for a long time. His parents had always been on him to join something– a club, a team, an honor society. If he was honest, he only chose rowing because it kept him out of the house the longest.
And he's so grateful he did, because it brought him Pandora. He suffered through early morning rows and long race days, soreness in his body and blisters on his hands. But every discomfort was worth it for the times he and Pandora would steal an extra hour to lie in the sun by the Great Lake, laughing until their bellies felt as sore as their arms. Worth it for the times Evan would cram them into his shitty jeep and drive them to their races so they didn't have to take the bus. Worth it, most of all, for giving him the first people with whom he could be honest—really, truly honest.
"I don't want to get rid of it," Regulus admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. "It was my favorite, but—I’m not ready to wear anything that might make people mistake me for a woman. Not for a while, at least.”
James nodded. He turned the shirt around, head tilting slightly as he considered it. “How about I hold onto it for you? That way it's not gone, just... repurposed.” He looked up at Regulus with a wicked grin. “I bet I could pull it off.”
Regulus couldn’t help but scoff as James began to pull on the shirt. “I’d like to see you try," he challenged, amusement evident in his voice. 
But as James stretched out his arms and did a little spin, Regulus wasn't laughing. Instead, he felt his heart swoop. A familiar mixture of fondness and arousal swirled in his gut at the sight of James. Glasses knocked a little lopsided from pulling the shirt on, pajama pants hanging low on his hips and socked feet– it was a picture that made Regulus go warm with affection. But, it was the shirt that really kept his attention. Visibly too small, the letters strained as they stretched across the width of his chest. The hem of it hitting right below his navel, exposing his hip bones and the trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Regulus felt all the breath leave his chest. “C'mere,” he said softly.
James shuffled over to him. “Good?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
Regulus shook his head, he was in awe of James. “Better than good. It suits you much better than it ever did me,” he mumbled, voice low and distracted. Reaching out to place his hands on James' waist, he absentmindedly dragged his thumbs back and forth over his hipbones, eyes stuck to the sliver of skin peeking out from beneath the shirt. 
“My eyes are up here, love,” James gently teased, his voice laced with amusement. 
Regulus felt his cheeks heat up as he snapped out of his daze and met James' eyes. He was wearing a knowing look, "Oh, I'm definitely keeping this," James declared, his smirk widening. "Especially if it gets this kind of reaction from you every time."
“I lied,” Regulus deadpanned, “you actually look ridiculous.” But his face was betraying him, unable to fight the smile spreading across it. 
James hummed in response, the smugness in his tone unmistakable. He was clearly enjoying every moment of this.
"Oh, shut up," Regulus groaned playfully, his hands gripping the exposed skin at his waist to pull him down. James yelped in surprise before their lips were meeting in a kiss filled more with laughter than anything else. But then James was deepening it, and Regulus let himself be kissed breathless. After a moment, he gently pulled back, hand tenderly stroking through James’ hair.
"Thank you," he whispered, his hand tracing a path down James' neck, over his shoulder, and along the length of his arm until their fingers intertwined. "For being here, for—everything. Everything that you do for me."
James responded with a gentle squeeze of their hands, his eyes meeting Regulus’. "Always, love." His voice was soft but firm in promise. And there it was again, his heart swooping in his chest as James pressed a kiss to his temple. "Always."
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moonstrider9904 · 7 months ago
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Lose It
Grand Admiral Thrawn x Female Reader
Summary: As Governor Pryce's assistant, you've had to put up with a lot of things and meet a lot of stuck up imperials with flying colors, but when Grand Admiral Thrawn lands on Lothal, you find yourself stuttering upon your words, flustered, and invited to a gala dinner that'll define your career.
Tags/warnings: SMUT. 18+ adults only. Corporate struggles, Pryce being mean, first meetings, alcohol consumption, making out, PiV sex unprotected, fingering. This is my first time in a long while writing Thrawn, so sorry if any of this is ooc.
Word count: 8042
Playlist: Lose it by Oh Wonder - and its Jerry Folk Remix for the smut 👀
Read on AO3 | One-shot masterlist | Main masterlist |
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With your eyes glued to the datapad, you felt as if caf would be the only thing to get you through that morning.
Sunrises on Lothal were beautiful, and yet, you were never able to enjoy them. Your desk on the seventh floor, a place relatively close to the much more humane office destined for your boss, was in a tiny reception room that had no windows; you'd have to walk a good kilometer inside the facility for you to get a glimpse of the outside world. You didn't mind the walking - it was always good for your mind whenever you felt saturated - but lately it seemed as if your boss had the uncanny ability to always demand something new from you whenever you resolved to walk out that door to do anything remotely human. Never being one to be superstitious, when it came to Governor Pryce, you wouldn't give her any more leverage.
You scoffed lightly at yourself. With the boss you had, it was a miracle the cup of caf you were drinking was actually for yourself and not for her. You had a little wager going on in your head to see what else that woman could take from you - so far, she'd already claimed your motivation and a good chunk of your faith in the Empire.
You regretted having Pryce on your thoughts when a notification pushed itself to the corner of your datapad. I'm not available, you thought to yourself, as if that had ever kept you from doing anything that was beneath you before, or worse, getting locked in a task that would absorb all your time and sucked the energy out of you like a leech. There never seemed to be an in between. You scanned the subject and, though you didn't hear alarms being set off in your mind, you did find your interest piqued.
URGENT: Imperial High Command Visit, Subject Classified. All imperial personnel directly reporting to levels SC6 and above must report to direct management for instructions.
And sure enough, you'd have no more peace for the remainder of the morning when you read that. You downed the rest of your caf and mentally braced yourself for what was to come. It wasn't uncommon for you to receive messages like that, but something big usually happened when you did, and you were used to finding out who or what it was about until the very last moments. It looked like it would simply be one of those days, so you grabbed your datapad and left your desk, making your way across the little reception room and into Pryce's office.
One thing you figured you could appreciate about Pryce was that there was never any beating around the bush, and it always made things a lot quicker, even in situations when it felt like you were having a band aid ripped from you. More like a piece of duct tape, but it was quick either way. And when you walked into her office, your back straight and gaze placed directly on your boss, donning what she would deem the desirable posture of an Imperial public servant, Pryce was already standing up from behind her desk with her blue eyes piercing into you.
Only she could make such a beautiful eye color look so menacing.
"You're here not two minutes after my comm was sent," Pryce commented. "I want that efficiency from you every day."
You were that efficient every day, but you weren't about to argue with Pryce about her short-sightedness.
"Put everything you were working with on hold for now," Pryce told you.
You didn't question the importance of the current events, but you never liked it when she told you to cast things aside to make room for her new wishes.
"I need you to send this out as a comm to all staff levels SC5 and below," Pryce handed you a drive, "and then I need you to make sure Congregation Room 2 is set to receive a minimum of seven people, but leave three extra chairs and make sure it's well stocked in refreshments. Put all my comms outside of lines 1 and 2 on standby, redirect comms from lines 4 and 6 towards you, I'm sure those are all things you can handle."
Pryce began walking past you outside of her office, leaving you to follow as you made a mental list of what she was asking.
"Do not answer any questions you're asked by anyone," Pryce continued. "At the most, tell anyone who wants to know to refer to the comm I'm asking you to send out. Now, in that hard drive you'll find the comm, two diagrams, a statement, and a final comm different to the first one which must be sent out only to levels SC6 and above - they are all in the order they're meant to be sent out and the time and date is encrypted in their properties. Stick to them like clockwork, and program anything you need ahead of time. We cannot afford mistakes, I hope I'm clear about that. Once you're done with these duties, find me. I'll need you at my side the whole day."
"Yes, Governor Pryce," you answered with your most professional tone.
Pryce stopped in front of your desk in the reception. "One more thing. Tomorrow night there will be a welcoming gala on the higher levels of the facility. I assume you have something to wear?"
"Ma'am?" You questioned, inevitably puzzled. You were open to many requests from Pryce, and while nearly nothing surprised you anymore, it really sounded like Pryce was inviting you to a fancy event.
"You won't be dancing and fine dining," Pryce sneered. "You'll be assisting me as well as the logistics staff for the event. And, I cannot repeat this with enough emphasis, we cannot afford mistakes. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," you answered again.
Pryce was about to leave the reception and finally give you room to work, but she stopped and looked at you again.
"Ah, and refill the caf pots for the entire floor, we're all going to need it," Pryce spat before finally leaving without so much as a thank you or goodbye.
Would you like me to refill the fat cats' caf pots before or after I send out a highly important, classified comm to the entire facility? It was all you could do not to roll your eyes. You didn't want any cameras catching you in the act.
Luckily, you'd gotten very good at prioritizing. The high commands could wait for their caf, and if they couldn't, they could very well brew it themselves. The first thing on the list was checking the drive Pryce had given you so that you could write out any comms and either send them or program them, so you plugged the drive into your computer. You found that one of the diagrams Pryce had told you about wasn't meant to be sent out, but rather, it was full of instructions for you. And according to those instructions, you'd have time to be a professional performing tasks worthy of her level before fulfilling a caf quest that was very much beneath you.
But the other diagram caught your eye - it was a command structure you'd never seen before. You knew many of the names on it, and when you read the one at the top, began to grasp the magnitude of what was happening at Lothal. It seemed Pryce wouldn't be the top authority on the planet anymore, she'd now be answering to someone who carried a title far more imposing than hers.
The diagram was meant to be sent out with the first comm, so you read the draft, and you didn't know whether you should panic, be excited, or hide from anyone who already recognized you as assistant to the Governor who would want privileged answers. Words like Command Structure Reformation, High Level Staff Transition, and Low-level Cost Reduction caught your eye. You'd heard whispers of new projects and seen the factories that were being built on Lothal from afar, and it seemed you were the one being tasked with telling the facility about that. But you had the hunch something like this would only leave everyone with more questions than answers. No wonder Pryce had warned you about people asking you things, but you doubted it was out of any effort to protect you. She'd essentially just asked you to keep from saying anything that might spill any secrets.
You sent out the first comm immediately and scheduled anything else for the day, including the comm about the gala—that one got you wondering if you'd at least be paid extra, but you had little faith in that. When you were done with that, you locked the computer and removed the drive, and you took your datapad with you as well for whatever came up. You were now headed towards Congregation Room 2 to oversee its preparations, hoping to swiftly fulfill the second part of your instructions for that morning, but as you were leaving the reception room and entering the main hallway, you were abruptly almost bumped into by Pryce herself, who rushed down the hall followed by three Imperial men in high-ranking uniforms. Despite her urgency, she stopped to glare at you.
"Do not tell me you're only just finishing the comms," Pryce snarled. "Hurry up and fill the pots! Are you trying to make the staff furious?"
Without any other acknowledgement towards you, Pryce and the other imperials continued on their way. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks with the words you couldn't say to her, such as how perhaps she forgot what it was like to do routine comm writing or basically any other task the commoner would have to do any day and how long some of those could take ever since she got a high horse and an assistant. But you also knew if you stood there pondering, you'd get yelled at again—the fact that Pryce had chosen to do that in front of others made your blood boil, but as much as you didn't appreciate being humiliated as "that aloof assistant" in front of anyone, you had things to do, lowly as they were.
Another push notification presented itself on your datapad, which you stopped in your tracks to look at.
From: Governor Pryce
On your desk I left a stack of binders for Congregation Room 2. Do not forget them.
You added that little detail to the list of things to keep track of.
With each pot of caf you filled, a tiny part in your brain wondered if anyone would notice if you spat in it. The thought amused you, but you also feared Pryce far too much to try any stunts like that. Something told you she'd notice you sabotaging a pot of caf even if she was on a different planet. You let your fantasies of getting away with mischief get you through that particularly unpleasant part of the morning and finally headed back to your desk for the binders from Pryce and then towards the congregation room, walking so fast you would run if you went any quicker. It was a miracle you didn't drop the binders in the middle of the hallway, and you were happy fate was apparently smiling at you that day to prevent any more embarrassment in front of Imperial high command.
When you arrived, you were pleased to see that the room wasn't a mess. The large table in the center was perfectly clean, with no traces of dust, and the chairs had already been pushed in and straightened out neatly. The room had that corporate smell to it that you both loved and hated, and it was so quiet that it was oddly peaceful. You liked the way the blueish-gray walls were embellished by the large paintings on the walls, one on each of the longer sides of the room. You wished you had more time to admire them both, one of the landscapes of Lotha, and the other one far more abstract with bright shades of orange, magenta, some yellow, and hints of gold on a cream-colored canvas.
You set a binder down on each spot of the table, and then you tested the light dimmers in the room. You then placed a bottle of water next to each binder, and finally, you brewed a pot of caf for the Congregation Room that you hoped would be your last, at least for that day. Still, you admitted you could use another cup of fully loaded black caf yourself.
For a while, the sound of the caf brewing was the only thing to fill your ears. You watched the rich, dark droplets falling into the pot and filling it, letting your mind get some sort of rest. You had the strange feeling that you'd been worked to the bone and yet you hadn't accomplished anything that day... that was a feeling you got very often in your job.
"Strange to see two very opposing art pieces put together in one room," a deep, male voice inundated your senses, rich and luxurious like the caf filling the pot in front of you.
Despite the voice's velvet qualities, you jumped up on the spot, startled, and you turned to face its source.
"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you," he said. He was a tall Chiss man in a white uniform, his profile frame facing you as he faced the painting of the landscape of Lothal's countryside. His posture was regal, with his hands placed behind his back, resting in lightly formed fists. "It would seem a more traditional choice to have paintings that are similar to one another, enough for them to complement but not cause any redundancy."
When he finished speaking, the man looked at you, his deep crimson gaze both gentle and penetrating on you.
"Would you agree?" He asked you.
You didn't have an idea of what to answer, and even if you did, you were stunned. You'd never crossed paths with someone like him before - his aura was intoxicating, and the fact that he had deemed you worthy of addressing spiraled in your mind. Any other imperial would have looked at you over the nose and deemed their time too important to waste on a mere assistant.
"I-I-" You paused to clear your throat, cursing your sudden inability to speak. "I have indeed seen that tendency in other places, just not here. Personally, I like the other painting a lot more."
Your mind began to race as you worried whether you were supposed to salute him or do anything, but it would depend on his rank. You figured standing up straight and not making a further fool out of yourself would suffice, but you looked over at the plaque over his chest just to be sure.
It wasn't a pattern or a rank you recognized. Had that man smitten you that hard?
He gave you the hint of a smile before turning around and looking at the other painting, the abstract piece, and he took his time to admire it. You wondered if perhaps you should offer him a cup of caf, ask him if he was there for the staff meeting, comment more on the painting... you had no clue.
But the silence was suffocating you, and you knew you wanted to hear more of his luscious voice. You looked at the plaque on his chest and took your best guess at his rank judging by the sequence of colors - you didn't get to be assistant to the Governor without memorizing imperial structure level well before.
"Admiral," you stammered minimally, "is there something I can help you with?"
Slowly, his frame turned towards you, his lips again curved ever so slightly. "It is Grand Admiral, actually."
You felt heat rushing to your cheeks - even your best guess based on your experience didn't save you from messing up in front of the greatest force of nature that facility had seen in a while.
"O-oh, I apogolize--er, apologize," you stuttered.
You wanted to scream, so you resorted to just doing it internally. It then dawned on you who this man really was based on his rank alone. The reason your morning had been so hectic was standing right there in front of you, watching you squirm. This was the man Governor Pryce would answer to from now on. Grand Admiral Thrawn. You straightened your back at the realization and bowed your head shortly before looking him in the eyes again, and much to your surprise, he seemed amused with you. Not in the high-and-mighty way, but rather, it was almost as if something about you was endearing.
"You may be at ease," Thrawn said. "I would like to hear your thoughts on this abstract piece. You said you prefer this over the other one."
You breathed in before speaking and hoped your language skills didn't fail you again, and you took just a couple of paces closer to him, allowing yourself to view the painting better.
"Well, I'm no expert," you warned.
"You do not have to be," Thrawn mused. "Appreciation of the arts can be enhanced by knowledge, but the true purpose of art is to produce sensations in the viewer. Any insight you may have to share is valuable."
You looked at the painting again and found it in yourself to relax. "I like the warmth of the colors. And their livelihood, too. It makes me think of freedom, and the gold flecks seem to speak about the beauty of that freedom, as well as the luxury of having it."
"This desire of freedom speaks to you?" He asked you.
You then realized you were talking about lacking freedom to an Imperial Grand Admiral, and you felt your already racing heart quicken.
"I'm grateful for my work and I have no complaints," you corrected despite your many complaints about your boss that morning, easing yourself back into what the painting produced within you. "It's just that... the bright pinks and oranges are hard not to notice in the middle of these gray walls... they can become confining after too many hours in them."
"Hm," Thrawn hummed. "I always prefer having a view myself. I share your sentiment."
You figured having a Grand Admiral's agreement on an art matter was the biggest compliment you'd get that day.
"Might I ask," you began, "what do you think of it?"
Thrawn side-eyed you, but the attitude with which he did it seemed pleased, as well as intrigued with you. He then looked at the painting again. "This color palette reminds me of a current I've been witnessing in none other but rebellious efforts. There is a certain diversity to it, as well as the clear nature of abstract art mirroring the rebellion itself. Your observations of the contrast of the color with the gray of our facilities and the need for freedom only confirm to me that I was not far off with my own initial interpretation."
You were dazed, and the need to speak more plunged into you like thorns.
"How interesting," you said with an airy voice. "For these sorts of emotions to be manifested to multiple people in a similar way."
"Yes," Thrawn said. "Though current context may have some influence on this... collective perception."
Before the conversation could advance, you heard the sound of Governor Pryce's voice approaching from down the hall, her words quick and frantic, clashing with your and Thrawn's aura like nails scratching smooth stone. Soon enough, Pryce appeared at the door of the room with a large number of Imperials behind her, and though she was relieved to find Thrawn there, you could tell she was displeased at the sight of you standing with him.
"Grand Admiral, please excuse the lack of hospitality," Pryce said as she glared at you.
"Not at all, Governor Pryce, I have been well-received," Thrawn said; you could have sworn you noticed him glance at you as he did.
Regardless of Thrawn trying to ease some of the weight off you, the last thing you wanted was to have Pryce suspect anything less than decent coming from you. But fortunately, you noticed Pryce scanning the room, hopefully noticing everything was set up exactly according to her instruction. And now that she had come to you, it wasn't necessary for you to go out and look for her like she'd told you earlier.
Pryce suppressed a scoff. "Yes, well, it appears this room has been prepared properly for your arrival." She then faced the rest of the Imperials behind her. "Please come in. My assistant will help accommodate you."
You understood the instruction and acknowledged Thrawn one last time before walking over to the doorway and directing multiple people towards their chairs around the table. Before Pryce took her own seat, she approached you and leaned in close to your shoulder - your mind raced with the question of whether she would congratulate or choke you.
"You are not to be left alone with the Grand Admiral again, do you understand?" She whispered, but the aggression of her tone was anything but inconspicuous.
"Yes ma'am," you acknowledged without trying to offer any explanation in return.
"Stay here at the back of the room," Pryce ordered. "Oblige to any request these officers may have. I don't want slip-ups."
"Yes, ma'am," you repeated.
"And this goes without saying, but none of what you are about to hear us discuss leaves this room," Pryce added. "This is of the highest confidentiality."
You nodded. "I understand, ma'am."
You knew Pryce was mad at finding you alone with Thrawn, but if she still kept you at that meeting, you had no reason to fear you'd be unemployed tomorrow. The meeting took hours, all through which you kindly obliged to whatever was needed from you.
And you felt crimson eyes on you all the while.
*
The morning after, bright and early, you arrived at your office and noticed a surprise on your desk. Pryce was nowhere to be seen, but on top of the stack of folders and datapads waiting for you to check on them, there was a bag over your desk with a delicate parchment on it that had your name written in ink. It looked large enough to hold a gown, and you remembered Pryce had mentioned something about you having an outfit for the welcoming gala you'd attend that night.
Pryce got me a dress? Employer review season must be coming up.
You pushed the jokes aside in your brain and decided to be more appreciative. Besides, it was far more likely Pryce would rather give you what she wanted you to wear before risking letting you make a poor fashion choice, thus surely rendering the welcoming gala a complete, unsaveable failure.
You took the parchment from the bag and noticed the other side of it had more writing on it.
Art deserves to be appreciated.
You felt your heart skip a beat and the oxygen leaving your head. That dress wasn't from Pryce, it was from Thrawn. It made you all the more motivated to unzip the dress bag and look at what was inside, and you felt your breath leaving your body when you saw the exquisite black fabric of the long gown. The outer layer of the dress was primarily lace, with sequins and beads very discreetly forming delicate flower forms every few inches. You knew it was high couture when your fingertips brushed the fabric, the quality evident under your touch—you tried not to think how much it cost.
Were you even supposed to accept a gift like that? You weren’t sure. It might not even fit, and even if it did, maybe you were expected to return it after the gala.
But who were you to refuse a request from a Grand Admiral? It’s not as if Pryce hadn’t told you to oblige to anything those Imperials the day before, and to your knowledge, that included Thrawn.
That day at work didn’t have you running up and down the facility like the day before, constantly required at Pryce’s side, beck, and call, but the workload didn’t stop. Between comms regarding structure changes, further details being given to the public, overseeing preparations for the gala and familiarizing yourself with the guestlist of the event, and the routine work you always did day to day for Pryce, you were hardly able to leave your desk.
But all that made the end of the day much sweeter, and when you were off your shift, you hurried home with the gown in hand. Quickly, you showered, dried your hair and styled it for the night, dolled yourself up with makeup and perfume, and at last, it was time for the dress. You were suddenly nervous about the dress not fitting, but when you tried it on, it slipped on you with ease and hugged your silhouette beautifully. The crop of the dress was perfect for your body type, and it accentuated your curves in all the right places.
Either Thrawn had someone investigate all your measurements to find the perfect fit, or he was able to eye you up and down and determine that for himself. Either way, your heart began to race. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting.
You grabbed a pair of shoes that went well with the dress and added some finishing touches to yourself, and you still had about an hour to spare before the time Pryce had asked you to be at the facility pre-event. You were out your door regardless. You figured, for an event like that, arriving sooner couldn’t hurt if only it meant having a bit more control over it.
As Pryce’s assistant, you’d been to the higher levels of the capitol a few times before for events of the sort, but you’d never seen the place decorated like it was now. The burgundy walls looked even more opulent with the warm golden lighting, and there were several tables laid out around a dance floor, each one decorated with similar burgundy, wine, and gold motifs with extravagant floral centerpieces and delicate glassware for each member that would occupy a spot in them. At the head of the dance floor there was an elongated table whose decoration matched that of the others, with exactly seven seats on it. Your chest fluttered when you glanced at the middle seat. Your day of overseeing preparations for the event had made you all too familiar with who would be occupying that spot.
You still had a job to do. You made sure the logistics team was spot on with last-minute arrangements, verifying there was enough food and wine for everyone who would be there. You went to confirm that every sound, music, and holo-projection worked properly and no one would be embarrassed on behalf of technical difficulties. Because of you, everything was spot-on well before any guests started arriving.
Timely as always, the first one to do so was Pryce. She donned an elegant gown, but as elegant as she looked, she still had that authoritarian air to her, rather than the aura of someone who went to enjoy herself. And she looked around the room not turning up her nose at anything; it seemed she was satisfied with your work for the time being. She walked up to you, and although you’d done a good job, you knew not to expect congratulations from her.
“Perform routine checks every fifteen minutes,” she instructed. “Light, sound, refreshments, staff—we need full stock at all times.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you replied.
It was only then that Pryce stopped and looked at you up and down.
“Where did you get a gown like that?” She questioned. “You look like a guest.” “It just happened to be lying around,” you answered. No way were you about to tell her it was a gift from Thrawn.
“Yes, well, good on you for matching the event’s elegance,” Pryce said. “I shall leave you to your duties. I need to receive the guests at the door, but you’ll need to take them to their places.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear Pryce had just complimented you in some way. Regardless, you obliged to her orders and powered up your datapad to view the seating charts, and soon enough, everyone began to arrive. You were grateful you’d chosen a comfortable pair of shoes for the night, otherwise your feet would have already been killing you from walking up and down the room taking everyone to their places. You were unaware of how much time had gone past, but it seemed like you’d successfully gotten almost everyone to their chairs. The next time you were at the entrance to receive your next guest, you glanced down at your datapad to get a clearer vision of how many seats were still empty.
You then looked up to find crimson eyes staring at you, and you were unable to control the smile that curved your lips. In turn, Thrawn’s gaze traced your entire silhouette, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume didn’t escape him. His faint smile held triumph; he was always pleased when his plans worked out according to his machination.
“May I lead you towards your seat?” You asked him.
He nodded and, to your surprise, Thrawn held out his arm bent at a right angle and offered it to you. You raised your eyebrows and looked at him, puzzled.
“A lady must never cross a ballroom such as this unescorted,” he said to you.
If you hadn’t been working that night, you already would have given out.
You obliged to Thrawn’s offer and linked your arm in his as you led him towards the long table at the top of the dance floor. It was hard to ignore the looks you were getting, and you were privy to the confusion in the eyes of many of the people who were looking your way, no doubt questioning themselves why such a lovely lady at the arm of the Grand Admiral was also clearly an employee. You were certain that if they hadn’t already seen you leading them to their spots with a datapad in your hands, you would have been mistaken for Thrawn’s plus one.
You reached the table and gestured at the middle seat, where Thrawn sat in all his regality. With a final nod of acknowledgement, you smiled at him and made your way back towards the entrance, aware of the fact that you swayed your hips slightly more than usual as you walked away.
Hours wore on. Your management of the event was spotless, and everything was on schedule. The food during dinner was warm, and no one was left waiting obscenely long for a refill of their drink. Speeches were made by the staff, including Pryce and Thrawn himself, talking not only about the supremacy of the Empire but also the great plans they had in mind for Lothal—but you’d already heard enough of that during the meeting the day before.
After dinner and all the formalities, the gathering turned more festive and people took to the dance floor to sway to the elegant string music. From that point on, the night also relaxed for you and the rest of the staff, as everyone was mostly just minding their own business. You stood at the corner of the room watching as everyone danced, and you couldn’t help but search for Thrawn with your gaze. A part of you hoped not to find him dancing with another lucky woman, but you shook the thought away. He wasn’t on the dance floor anyway.
In fact, you couldn’t spot him anywhere.
Your thoughts were interrupted when Pryce rushed to you, seemingly concerned.
“You need to get General Perkins some water, now,” she said.
You nodded and pulled your datapad out. “Getting a waiter on it now—”
“No,” Pryce interrupted. “No, the man is drunk out of his mind. I fear what he’ll do if he’s confronted by a waiter. You at least look the part of a partygoer.”
“O-okay,” you obliged.
“Hurry,” Pryce growled before walking off.
You partly understood the urgency; you didn’t want a drunk imperial on your hands either. You hurried over to the bar and filled two glasses with water and carried both on a tray with your data pad on the other hand. You tried to make your way around the dance floor, but everyone was gathered around the tables at the edges, and from afar, you noticed General Perkins already beginning to swoon in his seat, his eyes threatening to close as he laughed absently.
Yeah, no wonder Pryce had told you to hurry. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded anyway—you figured you had better chances going through it.
You came to regret your decision when, halfway across the dancefloor, another less than graceful Imperial general crashed into you. You managed to keep your balance and not fall, but your datapad was knocked out of your hand and slammed to the floor loudly. The water from both of the glasses splashed all over you, and the glasses shattered on the floor scandalously followed by the clanking of the silver tray after them.
Everyone around you took several steps back, leaving you exposed. The general who’d crashed into you disappeared without acknowledging you, and you were the sole center of embarrassment, feeling as the blood rushed to your face. You wanted to hide, but multiple pairs of eyes pierced into you, judging you, whispering amongst themselves words you didn’t even want to speculate.
Pryce rushed towards you and glanced at the scene before glaring straight into your soul.
“You’re fired,” she spat, and as she left, she gestured at two nearby waiters to clean up the mess.
Your chest heaved up and down as you processed what had just happened, and just as you were about to run away from the scene, you felt your hand being taken and an arm gripping swiftly at your waist. You gasped when Thrawn came into your view in front of you, holding you up despite what had just happened, and you could almost feel everyone’s soul leaving their body. Before Thrawn met your gaze, he looked over at the band and with a single nod instructed them to begin playing. When the music resumed, Thrawn’s gaze finally met yours, and he led you across the dance floor, spinning you and waltzing with you, becoming one with the music.
Your jaw dropped, and your eyes on him were dreamy. “Why are you doing this?”
He smiled at you, purposefully spinning the two of you more elaborately. “Dance, my darling. Dance.”
Exhaling all the tension in your chest, you smiled up at Thrawn and let him dance you away.
Around you, couples began to swarm to the dance floor once more minding the waiters cleaning up the shattered glass. In the second plane, you could hear the drunken general already making a mess, but that wasn’t your problem anymore now that Pryce had fired you. You simply let Thrawn lead the way, and when you weren’t dancing with him, you were at his side with your arm in his, holding a glass of champagne in your free hand that you never would have gotten as an assistant, and you actually found it in yourself to enjoy the evening.
When it was late, Thrawn led you outside to the courtyard. You both stopped and looked each other in the eyes—he towered over you, and you loved that. You smiled softly at him, eyes seemingly sparkling in the dark.
“Thank you for what you did back there,” you said.
Thrawn’s faint smile widened almost imperceptibly. “My pleasure.”
You looked down, blushing. “Thank you for the gown, too.”
Thrawn gave a low chuckle. “You look exquisite in it.”
A thought formed in the back of your mind at what he’d just said, and suddenly you found blood rushing between your legs at the idea of you being outside of the beautiful gown.
“Shall I take you home?” He asked you.
Your heart sank, but just as you were about to accept, you noticed Thrawn moving himself closer to you, his hand moving up to your cheek to gently brush your skin.
“Or perhaps… you would like to accompany me?” Thrawn suggested.
You knew you could say no, but every fiber of your body wanted to follow him wherever he could take you. Slowly, you nodded, desire already flooding your gaze, and the transition from the courtyard to his private quarters went by in a blur. You felt slightly out of touch when you stood in the opulent living room, unsure of what to do—you’d never done anything of the sort before. The place was absolutely beautiful, though, with a regal blue and silver color palette and a large window overlooking the entire Lothal skyline. The furniture inside was of the highest grade, and there were multiple paintings, crafts, and sculptures decorating the place. Not even in your wildest dreams did you picture yourself standing in a place like that, but regardless, there you were.
Thrawn gestured at the couch in front of an automatic fireplace that ignited when you sat, and he disappeared for a few moments only to return with two glasses of wine. He sat next to you, handing you your glass, setting his cup on the caf table as you took a sip from your cup. That was the best wine you’d ever tasted.
After a few moments in silence, Thrawn took your cup and placed it on the table next to his. His hands went up to cup your face where his fingertips could gently brush the hair growing out of the nape of your neck, and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You sighed into his touch and let him in. your hands brushed up his arms and past his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his upper back. Part of you expected him to push forward and take you there on that couch, but you felt Thrawn standing and pulling you along with him, pausing his kiss to lead you across the room towards his chamber. The bedroom’s opulent aesthetic matched that of the living room, and when you both entered, you noticed Thrawn pressing a control on the walls that lowered a solid gray curtain over the large window and dimmed the lights.
It was then that your gaze fell on the large bed at the center of the room, causing you to whimper softly in anticipation. You heard Thrawn chuckle softly behind you as he approached you with his fingertips softly tracing up the sides of your arms, landing at your shoulders. He swept your hair away from your neck and you felt his breath fanning over your skin, flooding you with shivers in the best way possible.
“You are gorgeous,” Thrawn whispered before kissing you just below your ear. He trailed his kisses down towards your collarbone, stopping where the fabric of your gown began only to make his way back up. You sighed in pleasure as you relished in every tingling sensation left by his lips, and before long, you felt Thrawn’s fingers beginning to undo the zipper at the side of your gown.
You felt the fabric of your dress becoming loose on your body, and as Thrawn continued to lavish your skin, he carefully slipped the dress down your curves. Your body was now exposed, with the only item of fabric left on you being a delicate pair of panties. You turned around on the spot and faced him, watching as his eyes brushed through every inch of your body with hunger. His hands were now on your waist pulling you closer to him again, and he kissed your lips with a brighter fire than before. Your hands snaked up his chest and landed behind his neck, your fingertips playing with his skin just above the rim of his neckline. Thrawn looked handsome in his white uniform, but you wanted him to be naked too.
You wondered if he could read your mind, because as you continued to kiss, Thrawn undid the buttons of his blazer and he cast it aside, proceeding to remove the shirt that covered his skin. With a light moan, you let your hands roam free towards his trousers and undid the belt, button, and zipper, and soon enough, he’d lost all the clothing on his body. You felt his fingertips curling around your panties, spreading the fabric enough to pull it down and let it fall at your feet. His hands explored your curves before he led you towards the bed, letting you lie on your back and taking his place beside you, his broad frame hovering over you.
He kissed your lips again, and you sank into the mattress below as you felt your body shiver with his touch. Thrawn’s fingertips had found your inner thighs, tracing ever so softly and igniting your senses, prompting you to spread your legs nice and slow as he continued to tease the sensitive skin leading up between your legs. You felt your pulse come alive in your clit, aching for his touch, hoping he wouldn’t keep you waiting for so long. Thrawn had been such a gentleman ever since you’d met… surely he wouldn’t let you down when he’d already been doing so well.
Thrawn’s lips curved into a seductive smile, and finally, he traced a sole fingertip from your entrance and up your cunt, dragging the wetness over your sensitive flesh. You couldn’t help the ecstatic moan that left you, and Thrawn wasted no more time. With precision, he began to rub circles around your clit slowly, letting you feel everything. As your breath deepened, your body started squirming under him, a sight he welcomed with lust. His lips were on yours again, and you kissed him hungrily. Your pants became shorter with every moment that passed, already nearing your release.
But as much as Thrawn wanted you, he wouldn’t be impatient. He would take his time, do it right, the way he approached everything else. His fingers gave your clit a rest, making you whimper in the absence of his touch. Thrawn emerged from your lips and looked into your eyes as he took his fingers down and placed them at your entrance, sliding one slender, long finger inside you and curling it, pressing your sweetest spot. Pleasure instantly flooded your senses, and you felt as if you’d just had a secret revealed to you of the magnitude of the universe itself.
No one had ever made you feel that way.
You grind your hips against his hand, aching for more friction, and Thrawn obliged. The pace with which he fingered you increased just slightly, applying more pressure to set your mind ablaze, and the rest of his hand pressed slightly on your clit, giving you some very welcome sensations on the pearl of nerves. Your tiny whimpers escalated in pitch and in frequency the closer you got, with your hands gripping his hair behind his head, until soon you felt yourself tightening around his finger and your body quivering. Your whimpers became uncontrollable moans, each filled with burning ecstasy. Your head pressed back onto the pillow, and as your body shook, you felt your wetness dripping out between your legs as you rode out your orgasm, never wanting it to stop.
Before you were overstimulated, Thrawn retrieved his hand and pulled you towards him. Now he was lying on his back and you were sitting on the bed, panting to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, prompting you to get on top of him, and you stopped only momentarily to gasp at his erection, long and hard and ready for you. You placed your hands firmly on his muscular chest, steadying yourself, and you opened your legs and shimmied down until you felt his tip at your entrance.
A short moan escaped Thrawn when you slid yourself down on him. You were slow, taking in every moment you could as he stretched you out inside, painful and beautiful all at once. His length was fully inside you, and with a firm grip on your hips, Thrawn thrust up and down, beginning at a slow, luxurious pace. You threw your head back, moaning, then looked down to bask in the sight of his muscular build clenching and relaxing with his movements. You bent over and let your lips kiss whatever spot of Thrawn’s skin was in reach, and the new position gave you a mind-blowing angle for his length to lavish your inner walls, brushing past the spots he’d already left so sensitive from your previous orgasm. Thrawn’s pace quickened, nuzzling your face so that your lips could find his, and locked in a kiss, you continued basking in the bliss.
His hands then firmly grasped your ass and he turned you over on the bed, now on top of you. While Thrawn’s pace had initially been that of a gentleman, slow and at your service, you could tell he’d decided to let go of any bars holding him. His hips hammered into you faster, his teeth baring in a hungry grimace as a single low growl escaped him, and in return, you whimpered delicately as you let him have his way with you. Thrawn was moving faster than you ever could have thought possible for any man, but even that thought would be erased from your mind when you saw white. Your long, ecstatic moans filled the entirety of his quarters when your walls clenched around his girth and your body quaked underneath him, with his name and his rank escaping you loosely before those words became nothing but helpless little whines.
As Thrawn felt himself approaching his release, he lowered himself down on you to kiss your lips. You whimpered into him just as your second orgasm had died down, escalating obscenely quickly into a third one, the sensations peaking when your orgasm blended with his and you felt him release inside you before he relaxed his body on top of you.
After such an endeavor, you had no headspace left for anything but lying there beside him. You heard Thrawn whisper a few words to you, but you couldn’t make sense of any of what he said. The last thing you could register as you curled up on your side was the feeling of a blanket being draped over you and a pair of lips softly pressing a kiss to your forehead, and after that, you were done for the night.
Your sleep was dreamless, and when you woke up the morning after, you didn’t see Thrawn beside you. As you sat up, you felt a beautiful lingering soreness between your legs, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you remembered the events of the previous night, not just your time alone with Thrawn, but everything that led up to it. The curtain had been lifted from the window, and you saw outside that the sun was well up in the sky, and yet, you didn’t have a worry in the world.
You got out of the bed with the blanket wrapped around your body, and on the nightstand, you noticed a tray with a piece of bread, a glass of juice, and a tiny vase with a single red rose on it. You grinned brightly and felt your cheeks getting hot, and you reached for the little parchment that rested beside the plate of bread, smiling as you read the fine calligraphy.
Have a beautiful day. See you tonight.
You lay on the bed again, smiling with a dreamy sigh and holding the parchment in your hand as you let your mind wonder what you’d do with your newfound time and freedom until the night came and you could see your lover again.
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calcichel · 6 months ago
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I've been reading Worm by wildbow, and I haven't said much about it here on Tumblr yet, but a friend encouraged me to start posting my thoughts as I read along.
I've been thinking about the end of the Leviathan fight, just before the introduction of the Wards. That seems to have been a serious inflection point for Taylor. Seriously injured, just having severed ties with her friends, filled with guilt for enabling Dinah's kidnapping, all alone in the world once again. If things had played out just slightly differently, it could have been a perfect moment to recruit her for the Wards.
She had already considered it a few times before. The Wards' recruiting practices already advertise themselves as a resource for anyone young and troubled who still wants to be a hero. It would have been a clear path to order, redemption, and community. All she needed was one person to step in and reach out their hand to her. One hero to enter the room and speak kindly to her. To validate her feelings and offer her a path that wouldn't compromise her values.
But of course, it didn't play out that way. She spent hour after hour in growing anxiety, helpless and being actively refused information, until a former enemy implies to her that she is likely going to be taken into custody. Of course Taylor tries to escape. And the first thing she encounters the face of one of the Wards: Sophia's. It's a galvanizing moment for her that slams the doors shut to various possibilities. She rejects the Wards, and sets about forging her own path.
It wasn't until later, when the reader is getting treated to an intimate look at the Wards and how they operate, that I realized what a (probably) dire misjudgment Taylor made (not that she could have helped it). She knew Sophia from school, so it was natural to assume that the same person who made her life hell in that environment would go on to do the same in this one. She has only ever known a world where Sophia's cruelty is a dominant force against which there is no effective resistance. She never got a chance to see a system like the Wards', where that cruelty is effectively constrained by rules and discipline, where mutual respect and trust is prioritized and cultivated. If Taylor had joined, Sophia's hate-on for her would not have been tolerated. Friction and conflict would have bloomed, of course, and Sophia - angry, misanthropic, sadistic, no part of her a true hero - would have failed to sufficiently hide her true colors. She would have been kicked out of the program, leaving Taylor with all the resources and structure of a supportive community.
You just know she would have gotten along with the other kids. And in such close proximity, they would have come to see her and realize that she had been misjudged. Over the years, she would have gained renown and respect as a hero, and joined the Protectorate as a figure who can be truly empathetic with the other side, who knows what shit is like out there in the world because they've seen it and felt it.
An entirely different narrative universe could have played out here. But of course, it didn't, for the same reason so many things in Taylor's life didn't play out well: for the lack of even one effective compassionate adult, to intercept her path and treat her with respect and dignity. No one in the high school, or in the Protectorate, or outside of it, has offered her that barest minimum of supportive influence. So it's no surprise she considers the only path available to be one that she forges herself.
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heartfullofleeches · 7 months ago
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Clementine [Yan Android Maid] comforting an anxious Reader
Word Count: 600
Warnings: None, pure fluff
-
“A clementine is a hybrid between a mandarin orange and a sweet orange.” 
Breath in. Breath out. A delicate palm weighs gingerly to your sternum, another perched to the left side of your chest where your heart springs frantically against its cage. Together, they aim to steady the palpations of your heart - artificial lungs imitating the breaths of air meant for you to follow. 
“Their growing season is limited. Typically, clementines are available from late November to January.” 
Your chest swells as you take the first normal breath of several - the tremble of your body dying out along with your erratic exhales. Clementine extracts her hand from your chest, running her fingers along your arms till they make contact with your sweaty palms. She encourages you to squeeze with the slightly turn of your wrists - eyes falling shut as your nails breach her synetic skin.
“You're off to a good start. Forgive me - I assure you that my ramblings were not of ill importance or to take lightly of your struggles. Estimations show a distraction may be beneficial for you at times like this and I thought you may be interested in hearing some of the facts I've gathered regarding my namesake. I apologize for that as well if I am wrong.”
“It's alright…” A hand automatically rises to your cheek as you sniffle. You rest your hand against her as you sigh. “I'm glad you're doing things for yourself.”
“If it is alright of me to inquire, could you please tell me the cause of your troubles so I may assist you better?”
The crowds. You were out shopping with Clementine when you decided to wander off by yourself to grab something you'd forgotten. She insisted on following you, but you were firm in believing you could do this one task on your own. Your android caretaker practically held your hand every which way you went and while that wasn't a bad thing in itself you had to have independency somewhere. 
The swarm of people swallowed you up not long after you left her visual line of sight. You thought about turning back, but with so many moving forward it was hard for you to push through. You eventually found a bench to wait the rush out, but it only got worse from there.
“There were just so many people… It was hard for me to breathe. I'm sorry for leaving with you. I thought I would be fine on my own… I'm sorry…”
The orange glow of her optics whitens to an almost amber color as she blinks. 
“There is nothing for you to apologize for. It's normal for your kind… Humans, to want their own freedom. I have experienced that want myself in the past. If it means anything, I am proud of you for going off on your own, but I would also feel safer if you allowed me to be there with you. Nothing will hurt you so long as I am here. If anyone does, I will crush them.” 
Clementine mirrors her conviction with a tightening of her fist - punching a knuckle sized crater in the concrete below her. You laugh, a bit catch off guard by her antics. Clementine is not one to be so expressive. She pushes dust off her hand as she holds it out to you. 
“Shall we return home?” 
You take her hand - lifting yourself off the bench. “I guess so- Waaa!-”
Pulled forward, your chest falls against her back as Clementine kneels to make up the difference in your height and sweep you off your feet. She hooks her arms behind your knees, standing tall all while balancing the shopping bags from your earlier endeavors on her shoulders. 
“Are you feel better?”
Locking your arms around her neck, you heartily nod - rubbing your cheek to her’s as a sign of your appreciation. “A bit. Thanks to you. I'm glad we met, Clem.”
The hue of her eyes softens yet again. 
“I couldn't ask for a better existence. It is you I should be thanking….”
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tarjapearce · 1 year ago
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soccerfamily!au Miguel and wife’s wedding?
It's Soccer Family week ~ ❤️✨
A little long, hope you like ~ c:
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After Miguel proposed, there was a miriad of things that came over both. Gabi being seven months old, you looking for a dress, the both looking for a venue and so many details Miguel found annoying.
He was a simple man. If it was up to him, he'd marry you in Peter's house where he met you without that much grandeur. However, seeing you so excited for having a little wedding and the glimpse of you in a gorgeous dress, decreased his peeving. He did everything you wanted, just for the sake of seeing your smile.
This week, you'd finally see a venue that had tickled his interest. Something comfortable enough for a reduced number of people. Neither of you had much friends, which was good economically wise, not that you were struggling, he just found it useless to splurge a lot of money on people he didn't know. The ceremony would be something for friends and family.
At first he wasn't sure of asking you about your family.
"Do you plan on telling them?"
"I will. Just my dad and my eldest aunt."
He held your hand and squeezed gently.
"Are you sure of it?"
"Yes. Dad well... he's alright. And my Tia is the only one I actually like there, so..."
You rested your head on his lap, and caressed his chin.
"And your brother?"
"He's in another country right now. And doubt he reaches to show up in time. Just them."
Miguel nodded and weaved his fingers through the silkiness of your hair.
"Alright then."
"Are you inviting your mom?"
He heaved and shook his head.
"No. Doubt she comes in good spirits anyway."
Humming, you nodded and kissed his hands.
"Alright. I think we won't be even that much people anyways. Feels like an elopement"
He chuckled while you played with his fingers.
"Isn't it? The only difference is that we chose to have witnesses."
You curled in his chest and smiled
----
The venue was as charming as the ad promised. A backyard looking space which grass was greener than envy itself, wild flowers painted the milieu with their rich colors, a little lake on the side to make it look straight out of a fairytale.
Miguel couldn't help but squeeze you as your eyes shone with excitement.
----
You nearly had a crisis when the perfect dress you had picked wasn't available in your size. Even though Miguel tried to comfort you by saying you'd look gorgeous even in a burlap potato sack, you didn't want a traditional princess pompous dress.
You wanted to make his jaw drop. So you went the extra mile to get it done with little retouches. Even Gabi had a little dress custom made for her along a matching headband.
The dress turned out even better and was easier to slip out of it. The venue was looking perfect, the wedding planner had surely made it look just like you wanted. Cozy, intimate, truly ready to celebrate with those that had been through it all with Miguel and you.
Sadly, not everything was butterflies in the meadows. Some family members of yours had known about your wedding, and naturally, they didn't like the fact you had excluded them. Your mother specially.
Even if the confrontation was unavoidable, you stood your ground and not invited her, and your other relatives. Severing the troublesome bond for good.
She only saw Gabi briefly, and left.
Miguel gave you a little reassuring that night ~
And finally the day came.
You took breakfast together, and then went to your respective activities during the day.
"See you later, Mr. O'Hara." You squeezed and slapped his butt before sending him off.
"Just for you to know, I'm getting my revenge later, cariño"
"Looking forward to it, nalgón" (bubble butt)
He greeted Gabi, played a bit with her and left.
Jessica and MJ arrived a couple of hours later and soon the preparations begun. Your dress and Gabi's finally arrived.
You bathed her and got her ready for the day.
"Whose taking her for the wedding night?"
"Oh no, we're taking her with us."
"Thought your aunt Isa would take her."
"Miguel refused. It's not like we-"
"Uh uh. Don't tell me"
Jessica's lips pursed, annoyed as you giggled.
"Anyways, look at this beautiful princesita!"
You put Gabi her little headband and snapped a picture to send it to Miguel.
Mi princesa preciosa. She looks so beautiful. Can't wait to see you.
The text made you smile and gave you enough boost to keep through the motions. The makeup artist and stylist came, MJ was the first, then Jessica and finally you.
While they got ready, you made sure to breastfeed Gabi and put her to sleep so you could get ready without much issue.
You spammed Miguel with silly pictures.
See this cereal?
Hm?
It's missing something.
Milk?
No. Not any milk. Yours 😘.
His cheeks had turned flushed as he was getting ready with Peter.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
You're so in trouble.
----
Two pm came and the small guest list filled in the room. Gabriel was his groomsman. Around twenty people were there including some coworkers from Miguel's, your aunt Isa, surprisingly your brother had arrived on time and attended as well. Around twenty people in total.
All seated in their respective spaces.
Miguel constantly loosened the tie, only for Gabriel to fix it for him.
I'm almost there, Gabi was hungry.
He sighed and as he was about to fiddle with his neck again, Gabriel slapped his hand away.
"Relájate. Ya va a venir." (Relax, she's in her way)
Gabriel gave him a little bottle of tequila.
"Drink it."
He gulped it down and sighed.
"Better?"
"Yeah."
"Vows ready?"
"Si."
Gabriel chuckled and patted his shoulder.
"You'll do great. Relax."
His cue to enter was there and with a deep sigh he walked to the altar.
Many looked at him with genuine excited faces. If he was honest, a wedding was the last thing in his mind, it was one of those things he thought once in almost never. But now, things were different.
He was different. You didn't fix him, just improved him, guided him through the darkest things to make amends with himself and allow him to overcome so many fears.
Having a family mainly. His own problems had hindered his growth in so many levels, but with your help and patience, everything was a bit easier. Your nurtured him with things he didn't even knew he needed.
And now, he was about to get you all to himself before anyone else. Of course there had been men that tried to take you away from him, but your loyalty to him was unwavering. What other proof he needed when you stood there, like an angel in a lovely dress, ready to take him as your husband.
Your dad walked next to you, waltzing you to the altar as Jessica and MJ followed you. A proud feeling invaded Miguel's chest. He gave your dad a firm handshake, an unspoken Thank you for giving her to me.
Miguel took your hand, giving a kiss to your palm.
"Hola."
"Hola"
The smile in his face was one that disarmed you. His eyes were full of pride and love, just like yours. Someone took a picture.
Your aunt Isa held Gabi. And soon, the ceremony begun. The wedding officiant gave the introduction speech, and soon the vows were brought up. Miguel started.
His hands trembled softly as he pulled out the small sheet he had wrote them in. Some blotches of ink sprawled, discarded words and the like.
Your name rolled of his tongue. So ever sweet, yet teasing.
"Mi corazón. I know I'm not good with words, but know that they're true when I say, you know better than anyone how difficult I can be. My nature and constant attitude often pushed people away." Here he pauses, a subtle softening in his eyes as he looks upon you.
"But you," he continues, "saw past all that. With your warmth and good humor, you stayed by my side. You eased my worries and made me feel understood. Because of you, I've learned that opening my heart does not make me weak - it makes me stronger." A little smile tugs at his lips now.
"I promise to cherish your love and welcome your light each day. You are the place I long to come to every day. My vow to you is this - I will strive to show you each day how much you and your faith in me mean. You are my partner in crime and all things, mi Pitufina. I am yours, now and always."
Your hand squeezed him tighter, noticing a little flush on his ears and cheeks.
"Thanks for giving me the honor of being your husband and the father of our child, mi niña."
You kissed his hand as he looked at Gabi as the crowd clapped.
"Miguel. Mi amor. Papasito"
The attendants chuckled and Miguel cleared his throat as you giggled.
"Ever since I saw you, I thought, damn he's tall. I'd climb him like a tree."
He couldn't help but choke. Gabriel cleared his throat, trying to suppress a laugh, Peter tittered under his breath and your dad stared intensely at Miguel.
Jessica face-palmed and MJ just smiled.
" But jokes aside, It surprised me you really went to open that beer with your teeth. And that alone made me curious about you and again I thought, yeah this man is mine." He rolled his eyes with a tiny smirk.
"We've been through so much that it's impossible to pick one single moment I wasn't fascinated by you."
His eyes softened and you squeezed his hands lovingly
"We've had our downs and up, cause no relationship is perfect nor easy. You've taught me so much about myself it's ridiculous how well you know me." You smiled,
"I know that I'm not the easiest woman to handle or be with some days, but know that you have someone that will be through thick and thin with you, yesterday, today and always."
You took a deep breath, "I can't wait to see what life has in store for us, Mi amor. Te amo. And I can't wait to kiss you."
He chuckled. Once the vows finished, the ceremony kept going. Gabi was the ring girl, and with the aid of Tia Isa, delivered the ring to you both.
Neither Miguel or you hesitated to say I do. Just made the moment even sweeter when you kissed as newlyweds.
"I introduce you, ladies and gentlemen to Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara"
The crowd cheered you both. Miguel took Gabi after you dad took several pictures with her.
She cooed upon seeing Miguel. Then, you both moved to the next location a couple of steps away.
Tables neatly adorned, the lights were set with an intensity enough to not overwhelm Miguel’s eyesight. Your dad took once more Gabi, letting you have the first dance with Miguel.
The soft and mellow beat of "My Love Mine All Mine" echoed through the speakers. Miguel hadn't tell you but he had been practicing a bit more his waltz. Funnily enough, Gabriel had been his dance dummy. Lots of crushed toes and sore feet later was worth your surprised face as he twirled you and swayed you through the song.
You thanked him with a big smooch and a smile. Your wedding rings clinked as you took each other's hands.
"Mr. O'Hara?"
"Yes?"
You got on your tiptoes and kissed him.
"You happy?"
He shrugged, earning a playful gasp from you.
"Been better"
"So mean!"
He took your chin and gave a little kiss
"I'm proud of you, Miguel." He huffed softly and you pulled a little strand from his hair as a revenge.
"I loved your vows."
"You kidding me? I nearly choked."
Giggling you lead him to your seats.
"Now, we gotta hear how people make fun of us."
"I will also too."
"Enough with your vows, cariño."
You giggled
"You looked like plum! All red!"
"Impossible not to when you said you wanna climb me like a tree"
You kissed him with a laugh, "Well yeah. I've climbed through those mountains-"
"Stop" His shoulders shook softly at the silent laugh he gave you.
"See? What would you do without me?"
"Probably overwork myself until death."
"I was being sarcastic, but still doesn't sounds good."
"I'm way too used to having you around."
Your eyes softened and hooked your hand in the joint of his forearm.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm stuck with you. Forever. Or until one of us deci-"
He nipped your ear. A clear Shut Up.
"You talk too much when nervous."
----
The rest of the wedding unfolded as expected. Almost everyone laughed at the friend's speeches about you two.
Gabriel gave a half funny half heartfelt speech about how happy he was for his brother. And Peter he plainly embarrassed Miguel by saying how much of a nervous and babbling mess your now husband was whenever you looked his way or interacted somehow with him.
And once the reception ended, you went to your hotel with Gabi.
You both were far too tired to actually have sex, or celebrate it.
Miguel had to remove Gabi since she fell asleep latching from your breast. He was tempted to wake you up by eating you out, instead he carried you to bed after putting Gabi next to your sleeping form that ended up in his arms.
Miguel O'Hara was now a married man.
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charbies · 1 month ago
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linktober 31 - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
I thought for the last day I'd write a little retrospective on what this whole thing was like and what I learned. I'm too tired to draw literally anything else I'm due for a break lol
So this was my second time ever attempting a linktober/october drawing challenge, but my first time managing to complete all the days and prompts. I feel super proud of myself and accomplished for pulling it off.
There were a number of things that were surprising and that were challenging for me that I wasn't expecting this month. If anything, I think this challenge really highlighted my flaws and mental blindspots with how I approach making art.
For one thing, I came away from this not liking everything I made. I think I only like about 9 or 10 of the 30 pieces I put out there. When I don't like my art, I tend to get stuck in this mental stalemate of refusing to finish a piece until I like it, but also refusing to retrace my steps and erase/rework what I have so far for fear of losing progress or not being able to replicate the line/angle/color/etc that I liked.
It was surprisingly hard to accept when I didn't like a piece but had to move on for the sake of time and post it anyway. But once I did it a few times, it got easier. I realized prioritizing my standards over my available energy is not gonna promote progress. If I kept sinking myself into one piece and not moving on until it was optimal, I never would have finished anything-- that was the pitfall that ultimately made me bail out 10 days in last year.
I also realized my sunk cost fallacy/"what if I erase this and can never redraw it good again" stems from some real lack of confidence in my knowledge and techniques with art. I'm self-taught, and I think I tend to believe that everything I make is a dumb happy accident, even though I have mental rules when I draw, use tons of references, and have a process lol. There are a few pieces I started over 2-3 times before I got them right, and that's starting to feel liberating instead of like failing to me now, which I never expected to come out of this experience so that's cool.
Another place I had to learn to let go of control in this was with allowing for style variation. I really wanted each and every piece to be coherent and painterly, like they all came from the same book or something. But then I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do all/no lineart, all/no detailed background, all/no heavy rendering, etc. At the end I settled on just keeping the same canvas dimensions and just prioritizing filling up the space. Glad I ended up doing this, because I really would benefit from continuing to chill out and scale back how much I default to making dramatic, high-render pieces. I gotta break out of my comfort zone and make more sketchy little guys!
Sometimes my attachment to the prompts fluctuated; some prompts I thought I would love and then just wanted to get them over with. Some prompts I thought I would hate and subsequently half-ass, then I ended up redoing them and putting more effort & time into and loved the end result!
It was funny to also see how some pieces that I loved straight up did not get a whole lot of notes or attention. Some pieces I was "meh" about did crazy numbers lol. I'm used to posting maybe 5-6 times a year on here, so I'm usually indifferent to getting notes (by which I mean, I'm super grateful for likes & reblogs and the super sweet & funny messages in y'alls tags, but I'm not butthurt when I don't get notes because whatever happens, happens). Churning out 30 pieces in 30 days made me sometimes get bewildered by what did and didn't get notes, but frankly in the end I think it helps reaffirm that I should continue putting whatever I want out there because it! is! not! graded!!!
So would I do Linktober again? Probably not, sorry! it was a lot of time & effort and took me away from fall festivities more than I would have liked. I kinda only managed to pull this off because I was transitioning between jobs this month and had a week off to just draw. But I also completely see the value in taking on a challenge like this and finishing what I started, I'm super glad I did this, I think my art improved from it. I would definitely do future drawing challenges/prompt things that are quicker or have less prompts!
My advice to prospective future linktoberers: pace yourself and be gentle; this is a great chance to do something exciting and new with your art, but above all it's about you having fun. There are no prizes at the end except for what you've learned and how you feel about it, and that's for the best!!
One thing's for sure, I am zelda'd out lmao so I'll be branching out towards some little projects I have lined up for personal art and other fandoms I'm into right now
So anyway thanks to all of you who read this or who gassed me up this whole month, I appreciate you!!!!!!!! ヾ(^∇^)
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