#just a little something to remind everyone that even if i rarely gif him alone geralt is still so dear to mee
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seance · 1 year ago
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I do remember bits of our life. She smelled like embers. From keeping those measly fires alive for the long nights. I remember my hunger. And her stomach growling twice as loud as mine. She used her magic to create elaborate meals that we couldn't afford. I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet... the day she left me, she was sick. She needed water, so I went to get her some. And when I came back, she was gone. I called for her. But she was gone. She loved you the best she could. To save you, she had to let you go. This can't have been the only choice. It wasn't. It's simply the one she made. And now you have your own impossible decision. I won't abandon Ciri. Even if it costs me my life.
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rottenfyre · 1 month ago
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⸻ ᴍ ɪ ɴ ᴇ ⸻
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Pairing: Show Daemon Targaryen x Fem Reader
Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?
Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs belong to @gameofthronesdaily. Hope you enjoy!
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Daemon is, by nature, a man drawn to excitement, chaos, and danger. When he first notices you, it’s not just your beauty that catches his eye but the way you move through the court—independent, untouchable, and perhaps even a little defiant of the typical roles expected of women. You’re a challenge, and Daemon loves nothing more than challenges.
He enjoys the game of pursuing you, watching you from afar with a predatory gaze, learning your routines, and inserting himself into your life in subtle but undeniable ways. Whether it’s through teasing remarks, lingering touches, or orchestrating moments where you’re forced to be alone with him, Daemon knows how to push boundaries without making you feel trapped—at first. He takes his time, savoring every step as he gradually breaks down your defenses.
“I like watching you,” he’d say casually, leaning close, his voice a smooth purr. “It’s rare to find someone with fire in their blood, like me.”
Daemon’s obsession is fueled by both lust and an insatiable desire to own you—not just physically but emotionally and mentally. You’re not like the others who fawn over him, and that drives him wild. He’s addicted to the idea of making you his, of taming the fire he sees burning in you while also stoking it higher.
Once Daemon realizes you’re starting to feel something for him—whether it’s love, fear, or even confusion—that’s when his possessiveness kicks in. He’s not the type to be content with half-measures. In Daemon’s mind, once he’s decided you’re his, that’s the end of it. You belong to him, and no one else has the right to even look at you.
His possessiveness manifests in both subtle and overt ways. He’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his. Publicly, he’ll always have his arm around you, guiding you with a firm grip, giving glances to anyone who dares to approach. In private, his need for control is even more intense. He craves constant reassurance that you’re his, and he expects absolute loyalty in return.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he’d demand, his voice low but dangerous, his hand gripping your chin as he forces you to meet his eyes. “I want to hear you say it.”
If you dare to speak to another man—or worse, show interest in someone else—Daemon’s jealousy is swift and merciless. He’s not above violence to prove his point, either verbally or physically. It’s not just about punishing the offender; it’s about reminding you who has the power. “No one touches what belongs to me,” he’d hiss, a smirk playing on his lips.
Daemon is a master manipulator, and once he’s ensnared you in his web, he makes it difficult for you to escape. He’ll slowly isolate you from others, making it seem as though it’s for your own protection. He’ll convince you that the court is full of enemies, that people are scheming against you, and that he’s the only one who can truly keep you safe.
“I’m the only one you can trust,” he’d say, his tone soft but with an undercurrent of something darker. “Everyone else would use you, betray you. I’m the only one who cares about you.”
He’ll create situations that force you to rely on him, whether it’s taking you away from court for long periods, ensuring you have no one else to confide in, or orchestrating conflicts with others that make you turn to him for support. His manipulation is subtle at first, disguised as concern, but it grows more controlling as his obsession deepens.
In time, you’ll find yourself with few allies, if any, and you’ll begin to feel like Daemon is the only constant in your life. It’s a psychological trap—one he’s carefully set, knowing that once you’re dependent on him, there’s no turning back.
Daemon’s feelings for you are intense and multifaceted. On one hand, he can be passionate, even tender. He’ll whisper sweet words to you, stroke your hair, and make you feel like the center of his world. When Daemon loves, he loves deeply, and there will be moments when you see that softer side of him, where he’s almost vulnerable.
“I’d burn the world for you,” he’d murmur, pressing a kiss to your temple as he holds you close. “No one else matters.”
But that passion comes with a dark side. His love is suffocating, and his affection often borders on obsession. He wants all of you—your mind, your body, your soul—and he’ll stop at nothing to have it. If he senses any hesitation or resistance from you, his mood can shift quickly from doting lover to dangerous tyrant.
Daemon is prone to violent outbursts when he feels slighted or if you disobey him. His temper is as fierce as his love, and he won’t hesitate to remind you of his power. “Do you think you can defy me?” he’d growl, pinning you against a wall, his eyes flashing with dangerous intent. “I am your prince—your king. You will obey me.”
Yet, even after his darker moments, Daemon has a way of drawing you back in. He’ll apologize, using his charm and charisma to make you believe it was all out of love—that his actions are a result of his fear of losing you.
Daemon’s jealousy is wild and uncontrollable. If anyone so much as glances in your direction for too long, he’ll be ready to take action. He has no problem cutting down anyone he perceives as a threat to his claim on you. Whether it’s a lord who pays you a compliment or someone who dares to approach you, Daemon will make it clear that you’re off-limits to anyone but him.
He thrives on control and will not tolerate even the suggestion that you could belong to anyone else. If he senses that your attention is wavering or that you’re developing feelings for someone else, his jealousy will consume him. “You think they care about you?” he’d sneer. “No one will love you like I do. No one can protect you like I can.”
In his mind, he’s justified in his rage because, to him, everything he does is to keep you. And if you were ever to try to leave him, Daemon would hunt you down. There’s no escaping his grip once he’s decided you’re his. “You can’t run from me,” he’d say, his voice laced with menace. “I’ll find you. I always do.”
As time goes on, Daemon’s obsession with you only deepens. His need to control you becomes all-consuming, and he’ll stop at nothing to ensure you remain by his side. If you try to rebel, he’ll remind you of his power—both as a Targaryen and as the man who holds your heart in his hands.
Daemon would rather see you broken and obedient than risk losing you to anyone or anything. He’ll manipulate you into believing that you’re safer with him, that no one else will ever love you the way he does. And when you’re fully under his control, Daemon will revel in the knowledge that you’re his—body, mind, and soul.
But even in his darkest moments, there’s a twisted form of love in Daemon’s obsession. He believes that everything he does is for your own good, that his control is a form of protection. He’ll burn the world for you, and if that means keeping you locked away, isolated, and dependent on him, then so be it.
In the end, Daemon will never let you go—because once he loves you, you’re his forever.
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@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ
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citysuk · 4 months ago
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echoes of us | anakin skywalker
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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader
summary: anakin has spent the last four years away from you, consumed by his duties as a jedi, trying to move past the pain of your departure. although seeing you again wasn't something that he was expecting, the reunion leads to a tense confrontation, where anakin's deep-seated feelings clash with his lover's sense of duty, highlighting the tragic consequences of their forbidden relationship.
words: 7,1k words (oops)
warnings: please, you already know me so ANGST. kinda manipulative anakin¿ only a little bit. stubborn reader for the sake of the plot, i'm sorry (i'm not). a little bit of spicy hehehhe. no smut tho. no use of y/n but no oc neither. no proofread. i won't say a word about the finale so read to know what happens at the end 😤
notes: i just- (SATURATED SCREAMS). i'm on a star wars binge and i just couldn't help myself, i needed to write this. all i want in life is someone to love me like anakin loves her.
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It's been four long years since you left, and Anakin Skywalker has tried to move on with his life. He throws himself into his duties as a Jedi, taking on more missions and responsibilities. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, trying to forget about the pain of losing you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to shake the memories. You're always there, lurking in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of what he lost. His heart still aches for you, and he still feels a sense of emptiness inside him.
As the years have passed, he has become more stoic, more reserved. He barely smiles anymore, and his laugh is rare. His fellow Jedi see these changes in him and wonder what has happened to make him so serious and cold. But Anakin keeps his emotions buried deep inside, never letting them surface, never letting anyone see the pain he's feeling. He's become a shadow of his former self, the bright-eyed and carefree Padawan replaced by a hardened and withdrawn Jedi Knight.
As the Clone Wars rage on, Anakin throws himself into battle, fighting with a ferocity and intensity that borders on feral. He's become a skilled and feared warrior, known for his bravery and skill, but also for his ruthless efficiency and lack of mercy towards his enemies. Even his fellow Jedi, the ones who are closest to him, cannot penetrate the shell he’s built around himself. He hides his emotions so well that it’s as if they don’t exist anymore, and no one suspects the depth of the pain he’s carrying inside him. He still feels your loss like a physical wound, and he fears that it will never heal. But he cannot let himself think of it, cannot allow himself to dwell on the past. He has a duty to the Jedi Order and the Republic, and longing can distract him from that.
So he goes through the motions of being a Jedi, fighting in the war, protecting the innocent, and doing his best to serve the greater good. But deep down, he knows that he'll never be truly happy again, that he'll carry his pain to the grave.
There are times, when he’s alone in the darkness of night, that he lets his guard down, that is when he allows his emotions to surface. And in those moments, he allows himself to think of you, to remember the happy times you had together, to ache for what might have been. But then, as the night ends and the morning comes, he pushes those thoughts away, locking them back up inside him, and he goes back to being the stoic and reserved Jedi Knight that everyone expects him to be.
And the cycle of pain and loneliness continues day after day, year after year. He keeps on living, fighting, and serving, but deep down, he knows that a part of him will always be empty, the part that you took when you left.
He wonders sometimes if you ever think of him and if you ever reflect on your time together with the same sense of melancholy and regret that he does. But he doesn’t allow himself to hope for that. It’s better to just keep pushing forward, to keep fighting the war and doing his duty.
That's until he hears the news that your father is coming to visit the Order. His heart skips a beat it's the first thing that he feels. He knows that since you went back to your planet your father never travels without you by his side, and this won't be the exception. His mind reels at the possibility of seeing you again. It’s been four years since you left to help your father in his political arrangements. Four long and lonely years. The thought of being in your presence again, even for a brief moment, fills him with a mix of emotions. Anticipation and dread, hope and fear.
He tries to keep his emotions in check, not wanting to get his hopes up too high. The idea of seeing you again after all this time is too good to be true. Besides, he knows that there is a small chance that you will not come to the temple, but he decides to embrace the possibility of at least seeing you.
When the masters of the Order confirmed that you would arrive with your father, he couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline running through his whole body. There's gotta be some sort of catch in this whole situation. But the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it and needs it.
As the day of your arrival approaches, he can't help but feel anxious. He doesn't know what to expect, how he'll react when he sees you. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? Or will they surface in a wave of longing and regret? He tries to prepare himself, to steel himself for the moment. He tells himself it's just a visit, that it doesn't mean anything. But deep down, he knows that's not true. He's been waiting for this moment for years, and he can't deny the excitement and anticipation that's building inside him.
When the day finally arrives, he waits anxiously in the Temple, trying to remain calm. But his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, and he can barely keep still. He's acutely aware of every passing moment, every second that brings him closer to seeing you again. His fellow Jedi notice his change in demeanor. He's usually so stoic and collected, but now he's jittery and restless, out of character for him. They wonder what could be causing this change, and they eye him with curious and sometimes amused glances. But Anakin ignores them, his thoughts solely focused on the moment ahead. He rehearses different scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how he’ll act when he sees you. But no matter how he imagines it, he can’t quite predict what will happen. The thought of facing you again after so long both thrills and terrifies him.
And then, finally, the moment arrives. He sees you walking through the Temple, in the company of your father and a few other dignitaries. The sight of you takes his breath away. You’ve grown, your features more mature and defined. But the sight of you holding the hand of another young politician he heard being called Kenth Cardas it's what makes him feel sick to the stomach. His heart clenches as he watches you, a sudden realization hitting him like a knife to the heart. You’re with someone else. Another man. And the pain that washes over him is sharper and more intense than any pain he’s ever felt before.
It takes all his willpower to keep his composure, to keep the expression of his face neutral. But inside, he’s seething with jealousy and hurt. He had been hoping, even expecting, for you to be single.
The thought of another man’s hands on you, another man’s eyes taking in your beauty, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He watches as you, your father, and your companion make your way through the Temple, greeting the Jedi and discussing diplomatic matters. Every step you take, every word you utter, it feels like the knife is being twisted in his heart. He wants to walk up to you, to pull you away from the other man and take you for himself. But he knows that’s not an option. You’re not his. You never were.
The scene is too abhorrent for him, he cannot bear another second of seeing you with another man that isn't him. With a lump in his throat and tears of frustration pricking at his eyes, Anakin turns and strides away from the scene, the sound of your laugh following him as he goes. He can’t stay there, can’t watch you pretending to be happy with someone else. It’s too painful, too agonizing. He needs to get away, to be alone, and try to process the torrent of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. He heads to one of the quieter parts of the Temple, a place where he can be alone and try to get his emotions under control. He leans against the cold stone wall, his hands clenching into fists. He tries to push the image of you with another man out of his mind, but it’s burned into his memory, seared into his eyeballs. He’s never felt this level of jealousy and hurt before, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He feels like he’s unraveling like everything he’s worked to keep under control is suddenly slipping through his fingers. He punches the wall in impotent rage, the pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart. He wants to scream, to shout, to let out all the emotions that are boiling inside him. He stays still there for a few minutes which seems like hours, until he feels a presence behind him.
He turns, his heart racing as he senses who it is. And sure enough, there you are, standing a few feet away from him, looking at him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. An uncomfortable silence settles between them as they stare at each other. The air is thick with emotion and tension, and Anakin feels his heart thudding in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react.
He studies you as you stand there, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, but there’s a sense of sadness and resignation in your eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. He wants to say something, to break the silence that hangs between you like a thick fog. But the words stick in his throat, and he can’t force them out. Instead, he just stands there, staring at you like an idiot.
Taking a deep breath, you break the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “Ani... Can I talk to you? For a moment.”
Anakin nods, barely able to speak. His heart is racing, his mind spinning. He can’t believe you’re really standing here in front of him, that he’s actually talking to you again after all this time. “Of course,” he manages to say, his voice rough and raspy.
You take another step closer, the distance between you feeling like an eternity. You look up at him, your eyes searching his face as if you’re looking for something. “It’s been a long time, you've grown,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nods again, feeling a lump in his throat. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how many nights he’s spent thinking of you, yearning for you. But the words won’t come. He’s scared, scared to show you the depth of his feelings, scared that you’ll reject him. “Yeah, it has,” he manages to reply, his voice flat and emotionless.
You notice his tone, the way he’s putting up his walls, trying to keep his emotions in check. You know him too well, you can sense how he was feeling, the storm of emotions raging inside him. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how he’s willing to suffer in silence rather than admit his true feelings. You take another step closer, closing the distance between you even further. You reach out to touch his arm, your hand tentative and gentle, like you’re handling a wild animal. He freezes at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your hand through the fabric of his sleeve, the warmth of your touch seeping into his skin. He wants to reach out and pull you to him, bury his face in your hair, and breathe in your scent. But he stands still, frozen in the moment, unable to move. You can feel his tension, the way his body is coiled tight like a spring. But you can also see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, the way his walls are crumbling as he stares at you. You know that underneath the hard exterior, there’s a part of him that’s aching to be let out, yearning for affection and connection.
You move closer still, your hand still gently resting on his arm. You’re so close now that he can feel your breath on his skin, the warmth of your body almost touching his. He shivers involuntarily, overwhelmed by your proximity. He wants to pull you to him, to hold you tight, and never let you go. He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. He notices the flecks of gold in your eyes, the slight blush on your cheeks, the curve of your lips. It’s all he can do to keep his composure, to keep his emotions in check. But seeing you this close to him, feeling your touch on his skin, it’s like a dam breaking inside him. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how much he’s still in love with you, and how much he’s been hurting since you left. But the words won’t come, stuck in his throat like they’re glued there.
He’s torn between the conflicting desires to push you away and to pull you closer. Part of him wants to protect himself from further hurt, but a greater part of him is desperate to have you close, to feel your touch, and to hear your voice. He stands there, caught in an agony of indecision, his heart and his mind warring with each other. He wants to do the right thing, the sensible thing. But when it comes to you, he’s never been able to do what’s smart or pragmatic. He’s always been guided by his emotions, and right now, his emotions are screaming at him to take what he wants, consequences be damned. He can feel his resolve weakening, the walls he’s built around his heart crumbling. He’s always been a man of action, but right now, he doesn't know what to do.
You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest. You can sense the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. You know that he’s struggling to keep his composure, but you also know how much he’s hurting. You take a deep breath, summoning up the courage to say what you need to say. “Ani, I didn’t forget the time we spent together, the promises we made.”
His eyes widen at your words, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to say that, to admit that you’ve been thinking of him all this time. He feels a surge of hope and longing rise in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. You pressed on, your voice was soft but firm. “The friendship we maintained for so many years will always be marked in my mind, no matter where I am.”
He feels his heart skip a beat at your words. It’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long, the confirmation that you still think of him, that there’s still a chance for them.
He stands there, frozen in the moment, caught between the desire to pull you to him and the fear that if he does, it will only end in heartbreak. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react. He feels like he’s in a dream like this isn’t happening.
He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face. He sees the honesty and vulnerability you’re showing him. He wants to believe you, he wants to let himself hope. But he can’t shake the feeling that this is just a cruel trick, the vision of you holding that man's hand it's something that he can't shake off his head. He feels that he’s going to wake up any minute and find himself alone again.
He starts to pull away, his walls going up again. “I don’t believe you,” he says, his voice cold and distant.
Your eyes widen at his words, your heart sinking at the tone of his voice. You had expected some resistance, but you didn’t expect him to deny your feelings outright. "What I'm saying it's truthful, I never stopped thinking about you"
He shakes his head, his eyes hard and cold. He wants to push you away, to protect himself from the pain. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says gruffly. “It’s too late, it’s been four years. You made your choice when I asked you to stay but you left.”
You blink back tears at his words, the hurt and anger in his voice like a knife to your gut. You had hoped that he would understand, that he would see how much you still cared for him. “You know that what we were feeling exceeded friendliness and was wrong, the attachments are prohibited. This was for something bigger than you and me both,” you say, looking at him almost guilty.
He scoffs at your words, his anger rising. “Don’t talk to me about attachments. I know the Code, I know about the stupid rules. But don’t tell me that what we had meant anything to you since you come here now holding another man's hand.” Anakin is seething with jealousy now, his hands clenching into fists. The thought of you with another man, another man touching you and holding you, it’s more than he can bear. He wants to grab you and shake you, to make you understand how much the sight of you with someone else hurts him.
He takes a step closer, looming over you. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he towers above you, his presence intimidating. “Tell me the truth,” he growls. “Did you ever really love me, or was it all just a lie?”
Your heart is racing in your chest as he looms over you, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. You can feel the tension in the air, the danger and volatility of the situation. “Of course I loved you,” you say, your voice shaking just a little. “I loved you with all my heart, and I still do.”
He sneers at your words, his face twisting into a cruel smile. He doesn’t believe you, doesn’t want to believe you. It’s easier to think that you’re lying, that you never really loved him at all. “Prove it,” he snaps. “Prove that you love me.”
You’re taken aback by his challenge, his demand. You didn’t expect him to ask you to prove your feelings, to put them to the test. “What… what do you mean, prove it?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.
He takes another step closer, his body almost touching yours. He’s so close that you can feel the heat of his skin, the tension radiating off him in waves. “Kiss me,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Kiss me like you mean it. Show me that you’re not just playing with me.”
Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the heat of his body. You’re nervous and hesitant, but you also feel a pang of longing and desire. You want to prove to him that your feelings are real, that you’re not just toying with him. You can feel his breath on your lips, the heat of his mouth just inches away from yours. "I'm engaged." You blurt out.
His face darkens at your words, the mention of your engagement like a slap in the face. He feels a surge of irrational jealousy and anger, the idea of you marrying someone else infuriating him. “So what?” he snaps. “You’re engaged to someone else, but you’re still here, standing here in front of me, telling me that you love me. Kiss me. You said you still love me. Prove it.”
You're taken aback by his insistence, his refusal to listen to reason. "It's not that simple, Ani," you say, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm with another person now, and it wouldn't be right to-"
He cuts you off, grabbing you by the wrists and pulling you to him so that your bodies are pressed together. He’s breathing heavily, his chest heaving with emotion. He’s on the edge, barely holding it together. He can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, the scent of your skin, the beat of your heart. “Damn the rules, damn the Code,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste you, I want to hold you. I don’t care about anything else.”
You can see the desperation in his eyes, the hunger and need. You’re torn, part of you wants to give in to his demand, to give yourself over to the passion and desire that always existed between you. But another part of you is wary, knowing that this is dangerous, that indulging in this could lead to nothing but pain and heartache. "Ani, stop," you say, your voice gentle but firm. "We can't do this. We can't let ourselves go down this path."
He scoffs at your words, his grip on your wrists tightening. He can’t believe you’re still resisting him, still holding back when you’ve already admitted that you still love him. “Why not?” he asks, his voice a low growl. “What’s stopping us? You said you love me. You can’t deny that you want this. I can see it in your eyes.”
You feel your resolve weakening, the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think straight. "I can't do this to Kenth," you say, trying to hold onto your reasoning. "I can't just throw away what I have with him. I can't hurt him like that. He's a good man."
He scoffs again, his jealousy flaring at the mention of your fiancé. To him, he's nothing more than a rival, a hindrance to what he wants. "A good man," he sneers. "What does he have that I don’t? What can he give you that I can’t?"
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. You know that your fiancé is a good person, kind and respectful, but you also know that he’s not the same as Ani. There’s something about your history with Anakin, something about the passion and intensity of your connection, that’s unique and special. “It’s not about what he has or what he can give me,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. "It's about the future and following the rules for the sake of everyone."
He feels a pang of jealousy and bitterness at your words, the idea of you building a life with someone else it's like his biggest nightmare turning into reality.
“You’re mine,” he says through clenched teeth. “You will always be mine. I don’t care about your fiancé, your future, or anything else. I only care about you. So stop thinking about what you should do, and what you shouldn’t do, and just feel. For once in your life, just let yourself feel what you know you want.”
His words strike a chord within you, the intensity and possessiveness of his declaration igniting a spark of desire deep inside you. You can feel yourself weakening, your resolve cracking under the weight of his words. “Ani, please,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. “This isn’t fair.”His words send a shiver down your spine, the heat of his body and the strength of his grip making it impossible to resist him. You’re caught between reason and emotion, torn between your loyalty to your fiancé and the deep-seated love you still feel for him. “Please…” you whisper, your voice breaking. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
He looks down at you, his eyes burning with intensity. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, his voice fierce and determined. “I’m claiming what should have always been mine. I’m taking what I want. You.” He leans down, his mouth hovering mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. The tension between you is electric, the air thick with desire and need. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart racing in your chest. You can feel the heat and power radiating off of him, the primal force of his need and desire nearly overpowering your senses. You know that you should resist, that you should push him away and run before it’s too late. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your body is drawn to his, your mind consumed with the need to feel his lips on yours.
He can see the conflict in your eyes, the battle between your loyalty and your desires. He can tell that you’re close to breaking, close to giving in to what you both want. He leans in even closer, his lips practically touching yours. “Stop fighting it,” he whispers, his voice low and sultry. “Stop trying to be strong, and just let go. I know you want this. You’ve always wanted this.“ His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, the truth of them hitting you like a ton of bricks. You know that he’s right, that deep down you’ve always wanted this, always wanted him. You know that no matter how hard you try to deny it, there will be a part of you that will always belong to him. You can feel your resistance crumbling, your body and mind completely under his control.
He senses your surrender, the last of your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his words and his touch. He can feel the heat and desire radiating off you, the air between you electric and charged. Without another word, he closes the tiny gap between you and captures your lips with his own. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like a circuit is completed. The floodgates of long-suppressed desire burst open, and you kiss him back with a passion that takes your breath away. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, the intensity and heat of it like a storm, crashing over you and consuming you whole. You respond to the kiss with equal hunger and fervor, his hands moving to cup your face, to pull you closer to him. He wants to devour you, to possess you completely. He can feel the tension building between you, the passion and need threatening to overwhelm you both.
You wrap your arms around him, pulling him towards you and molding your body against his. You can feel his strength, his power, the taut muscles of his back, and the heat of his skin beneath his robes. The kiss deepens, your mouths moving together in a dance of desire and need. Your hearts are racing, your bodies electrified by the heat of the kiss.
You feel the possessive urgency in his touch, the hunger and need in his every movement. You can feel the jealousy and the anger, the primal need to possess you completely. And despite yourself, you feel your body responding to his touch, igniting a fire deep within you that you thought was long extinguished.
He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning into yours, his body still pressing you against the wall. He’s panting, his breathing ragged and uneven, his body vibrating with need. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice raw and hoarse. “No one else is ever going to touch you, no one else is going to have you. I want you to leave him.“
Your mind is hazy, your thoughts clouded by the heat and desire coursing through your body. You know that you should resist him, however, you want to tell him that he owns your body and soul completely. But your mind betrays you, your words coming out in little more than a breath. "I... I can't," you whisper, your voice trembling.
The words are like a cold bucket of water to his face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. He pulls back from you slightly, his hands still on your hips, anchoring you to the wall. “Why not?” he bites out, his voice rough and sharp. “What’s stopping you?“
You try to find the words to explain, to tell him that it’s too much, that you’re still engaged to someone else. But before you can form the words, he’s leaning back in, his body pressing against yours once again. “Tell me,” he says, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Tell me why you can’t be mine. I want to hear you say it.“ The heat and desire that was coursing through you moments ago has faded, replaced by a sense of guilt and confusion. You know that you should put your foot down, that you should remind him of your engagement. But you’re finding it increasingly hard to think straight as he presses his body against yours, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear. “It's a political arrangement.” You manage to say, the words coming out in a shaky breath.
A low, possessive growl escapes his throat as he hears your words. "What do you mean, a 'political arrangement'?" he snaps, his hands tightening on your hips. "Explain."
You take a shaky breath, your body still pressed against the cool surface of the wall. The primal possessiveness of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “My marriage. It’s an arrangement made by our families,” you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s meant to strengthen our families’ political relationships.”
His jaw clenches at your words. The thought of you entering into a political arrangement with someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you, is enough to make his blood boil. He moves his body impossibly closer, his hands shifting to cup your face, his voice a low growl. “So your family basically sold you to someone else for political gain?”
Your heart sinks at the harsh truth of his words. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known that the engagement was more about politics than love. But the truth hurts, especially hearing it said out loud. You can feel the tension and possessive anger in his body, the way his body is pressed against yours like a cage. You know he’s not going to let this go easily. You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Essentially, yes.“
His mind reels at your admission, his anger and jealousy growing even stronger. He can’t believe that your family would treat you like a bargaining chip like a possession to be traded away for political gain. “And you agreed to this?” he practically spits out, his voice thick with anger. “You agreed to marry someone you don’t even love?“
Your heart twists at the anger and hurt in his voice, but you can’t deny the truth of his words. You did agree to marry someone you don’t love, all because of your family’s political aspirations. You nod again, your eyes downcast. You’re ashamed and embarrassed, and guilt washes over you like a wave. You know you’ve hurt him by agreeing to marry someone else, but you don’t know how to fix it.
He pulls back slightly, his hands falling from your face. He feels a mix of anger, hurt, and jealousy coursing through him, the primal possessiveness warring with the need to protect you. “So you’re going to marry him?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you don’t even love? Are you gonna be happy with that?“
You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. You’ve never thought about it that way before, but there isn't much that you can do. You shake your head slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It's the best outcome for everyone. For my family, the Order, the Force... and for you.“
His jaw clamps shut at your words, a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. The thought of you marrying someone else, settling for a life that is anything less than what you deserve, is unbearable to him. “Best outcome for everyone?” he grits out, his voice raw with emotion. “Except for you. What about what you want? What about your happiness?“ His words sting bitterly, the shame and guilt you feel growing stronger. You know that your happiness is not a priority in this arrangement, that it never has been. But the truth hurts, especially when it’s said out loud. You shake your head again, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter. I have a duty, the responsibility to see this through.“
His heart aches at your words, the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of duty is something he can’t understand. It goes against everything he believes in, against everything he fights for. “Duty and responsibility be damned,” he snaps, his voice edged with anger and frustration. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who loves you, who worships the ground you walk on. Not some political arrangement.“
Your heart clenches at his words, the mix of anger and desperation in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. You know he’s right, deep down you’ve always known that you deserve more than you’re settling for. But duty and responsibility have always been pounded into you, and the thought of going against them is terrifying. “It’s not that simple,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s not just about me. It’s about the Republic, the Jedi Order…”
He scoffs at your words, the anger and frustration growing stronger. The fact that you’re still focusing on what's expected of you, even after everything you’ve just shared, is frustrating for him. “None of that matters if you’re not happy. You’re not some pawn to be used in someone else’s game.“
Your heart aches more with every word he says, the truth of them echoing in your head. You know he’s right, you know that your happiness should come first, but the years of conditioning and expectations are hard to break. “I can’t just... abandon everything...” you say, your voice weak. “I can’t disappoint them.“
His eyes flash with anger and disbelief, his patience wearing thin. “You’re more worried about disappointing them than about your happiness? That’s a load of Bantha poodoo and you know it. They don’t deserve your loyalty.”
He's right, you know he is. You've been putting everyone else's needs above your own for so long that it's become second nature. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face. "But what about you?" you whisper, your voice trembling.
“What about me?” he echoes, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re choosing someone else over me. You’re choosing a life of political duty over our happiness, over what we could have together.“ He steps closer to you again, his body once again pinning you against the wall. His hands reach out to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotion raging within him. “We could have a life together. We could be happy.“
Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of the decision you’re facing hitting you like a ton of durasteel. You know what you want, deep down you know that you’d give anything to be with him. But responsibility, a lifetime of conditioning, is still weighing heavily on you. You lean into his touch, your eyes falling closed. Your voice is a whisper, choked with emotion. “Is that possible?” He feels a pang of pain at your question, the doubt in your voice makes him want to just keep you in his arms until you understand what you mean to him. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Yes,” he says, his voice steady and firm, despite the emotions churning inside him. “It’s possible. It’s more than possible. It’s what I want, what I’ve wanted since I met you.“ His hands tighten on your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Please, don’t marry him. Choose me.“
His words and touch cut through the fog of doubt and confusion surrounding you. The thought of choosing him, of having a life with him, fills you with a sense of longing and hope that you’ve never known before. For the first time, the thought of your future isn’t shrouded in obligations, it’s filled with love and happiness. You let out a ragged breath, your body tense. “I don’t want to marry Kenth.” You whisper.
His heart nearly leaps out of his chest at your words, a surge of triumph and relief coursing through him. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like a vise, pulling you flush against him. His body is taut with need and desire, the primal possessiveness in him raging stronger than ever. “Then don’t.” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “Be with me.“
Your body melds against him, your trembling hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. You feel a mix of relief and desire and fear coursing through you as you look into his eyes, your voice a whisper. “What if they find out? What if they try to... stop us? Or worse, haunt us?“
He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes burning with a mix of passion and determination. The thought of anyone trying to stop or hurt you fills him with a fierce, protective rage. “They’ll try,” he says, his voice hard. “But I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to stop us, they’ll have to go through me first.“
His words, full of certainty and strength, send a shiver down your spine. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired, so protected. The thought of being with him, of having his love and loyalty, is both exhilarating and terrifying. You look into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “And what if it doesn’t work?” you ask hesitantly. “What if we can’t make it?“
He sees the doubt and fear in your eyes, and his heart clenches at the thought of losing you. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you fiercely. “It will work,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll make sure it does. I won’t let anything come between us.“ He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl. “I love you. And I won’t let anyone or anything take you away from me.“
His words, spoken with such unwavering conviction, send a jolt of hope and love through you. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so loved. You can feel the heat and strength of his body against yours, the possessiveness and determination radiating off him in waves. You close your eyes, leaning into him, his lips at your ear. “I love you too,“ you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve always loved you.“
Anakin for the first time in his life, feels complete, whole. He embraces you tightly, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and protective. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m yours. No one can keep us apart again. Not the Order, not the Republic, not the universe.“
You can feel the possessiveness in his touch, the way his hands roam over your body as though he owns it. And a part of you, a primal, feminine part of you, longs to be owned by him, to belong to him completely. You nod, your body molding against his, your voice a whisper. “I’m yours. Completely yours.“
His heart nearly bursts at your words, your surrender and acceptance igniting a primal, possessive need in him that nearly takes his breath away. He leans in, his lips against your neck, his voice a low, ragged growl. “Say it again. Say you’re mine.“
You tilt your head slightly, giving him better access to your neck, your body melting against his. You feel a shiver of desire run down your spine at his words, his possessive tone sending a wave of heat through you. You let out a shaky breath, your voice a ragged whisper. “I’m yours. I belong to you, completely and utterly.“
Anakin’s eyes lock onto yours, the intensity and determination in his gaze making your breath hitch. His hands coming up to cup your face, his touch achingly gentle. “There are so many words I want to say to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Words that will never do justice to how I feel about you. You’re the air that I breathe, the thought that consumes me, the obsession that drives me to the brink of madness.“ He leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "You’re the reason I feel alive, the reason I’ll do anything, give anything, to be with you.“ His hands move to your back, his body pressed against yours, the raw need and desire in him almost feral. “I’ve tried to fight it for years, to deny it, but I can't. I can't pretend anymore that I don't want you, that I don't need you. Because I do. I need you more than anything. I’m obsessed with you, completely and utterly obsessed. Living without you it's like not having a soul inside of my body.“
He pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, the force of his emotions like a tidal wave washing over you. “I will do whatever it takes, I will risk everything, I will defy the universe itself, to keep you by my side. You’re mine, and I will never let you go. You’re my love, my every thought, my every dream, my entire existence.“
Your heart is pounding in your chest, the intensity and passion in his words, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands reach up, touching his face, your fingers tracing over his features gently. “Ani…“ You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say. You… you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me feel loved, wanted, desired… worshipped.“
He leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he savors the feeling of your fingers on his skin. A small, vulnerable smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks at you. “Say you’ll be mine,” he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. “Say you’ll stay with me, that you’ll be my everything. I need to hear it, I need to know that you want this as much as I do.“
His vulnerability in that moment, so different from the fierce and possessive man he usually is, makes your heart pound even harder. You look into his eyes, seeing the love, the fear, the need in them. You never knew he was capable of such emotion, such passion. “I’ll stay with you,” you murmur, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. “I’ll be yours, yours completely. For as long as you’ll have me.“
He lets out a ragged breath, his body visibly relaxing as your words sink in. The fear, the doubt, that had been lurking in his eyes vanishes, replaced by something wild and primal, something that nearly takes your breath away. “Forever,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and fierce. “I want you forever. I need you forever. You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go. Together, we will defy the odds, we will fight fate, we will prove that love, true love, can conquer all."
His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle at first, but quickly turning hungry and demanding. His body presses against yours, the heat of his desire like a fever burning through you. The world around you falls away, leaving only you and him, lost in a moment of complete and utter obsession and love. You’re his and he's yours, and nothing else matters.
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nanamissuit · 11 months ago
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Can I request the 141 boys with a shy reader who gets to talking about their hobbies or whatever, really starts opening up, only to get self conscious and say something like, “sorry I talked so much.”
Shy - TF141
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Pairing: TF141 x GN!Shy Reader
Warnings: None, Fluff, Hurt-comfort
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John Price:
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So what has Price noticed while dating you? You ever so rarely speak more than a couple of sentences. 
And oh god when he would introduce you to people you’d shy behind him like a child, he never understood why.
So when you started to talk more about a certain hobby you liked he was ecstatic. It was just you and him, at home in bed watching a movie but not really paying attention.
Then something in the movie caught your eye and reminded you of something from your childhood, your eyes lit up as you began to start rambling on and on.
“Yeah so I used to-” “Hm? What’s the matter, why'd you stop?” John looked confused, he was genuinely interested in what you were saying, “Sorry, I talked too much.”
His heart melted, he was so upset hearing those words. He didn’t know whoever told you that you talk too much but he never felt more enraged in his whole life. “No sweetheart you never talk too much, I could listen to you talk for hours and hours keep talking I wanted to hear the rest.” He saw you smile as you kept talking, he truly did love you.
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Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:
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He’s always encouraging you to talk more, he adores your voice and also he can’t really tell your emotions when you’re just quiet so it scares him.
He always loved when you spoke even if it was only a couple of sentences or words here and there, and when he introduced you to his mates and you kinda hid behind him he chuckled a bit.
But when you guys went out to go watch the sunset and you started to ramble a bit, he was so excited but he tried to stay calm so as to not interrupt you.
“Honestly it was one of my favorite-” “You okay? I was listening.” Kyle looked at you a little worried but upset because he wanted you to keep talking, keep rambling about nonsense forever.
“No sorry I talked way too much.” Kyle’s heart shattered and he had to keep it together as he wrapped an arm around the small of your back. “No baby keep going, I wanted to hear the rest I love when you talk.” He saw your eyes light up as you kept talking and he listened to every word.
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John 'Soap' Mactavish:
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We all know that man is a talker, like you can’t get him to shut up. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to listen to you talk. In Fact whenever you begin to speak he automatically shuts up.
When he introduced you to his friends and even family you were a nervous wreck and hid behind his back. He explains to everyone you’re just shy and holds your hand for comfort.
But there has never been a thing in the world he’s wanted more than for you to just talk about something, anything. 
So when you started to ramble to him before going to sleep in your shared bed, he immediately woke up and listened intently.
“Yeah and that's-” “Keep going, what happened next?” he was so bummed when you stopped talking, you left him on a cliffhanger :(!
“No it’s okay I talked way too much.” Soap frowned, “No lass, you never talk way too much. I love hearing your voice, please keep going?” And then he got excited when you kept speaking. He listened until you got so tired you fell asleep.
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley:
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This man is so quiet, but not in a shy way. He just doesn’t think talking is necessary. So he kind of expected you to do all the talking. But then he realized how shy you were and started talking more so you weren't uncomfortable
When he introduced you to people and you hid behind the boulder of a man, he acted like a bodyguard. “They're shy, give‘em a bit.”
But when you guys are alone and you’re watching him cook dinner and you have the urge to just talk, he’ll listen like a goddamn dog. Sometimes even chuckling at things you say or adding commentary.
But then when you cut yourself off, “I know right! But then-” He didn’t even give you the chance to say “I was talking too much.” Because he was so quick to respond.
“Keep talking Lovie, what happened? I love when you talk, please keep going.” And you smiled to yourself as you continued on with what you were saying, he truly loved every single word you spoke.  
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bethelighthalazia · 9 months ago
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ATEEZ and how they show their love <3
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Summary:  ot 8 and how they show their love <3
Genre: fluff
Pairing: OT8 x reader (separate drabbles)
Word Count:  n/a
Warnings: none
[note: Okay, this was the fist time, that I did something like this and I have to admit, that it is only how I imagine the boys to be like. I do hope you enjoy reading them though! RE-UPLOAD from my old blog @/justsomedreaming, was requested there by @mitproblem]
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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SEONGHWA 
Seonghwa's love is quiet but visible to everyone.
He loves to pamper you, make sure you're fed and reminds you to take breaks and get enough rest and sleep. When you go out, he holds your hand, often wearing at least one matching item of clothing, no matter what it might be. He would also shower you with gifts, mostly little trinkets and not rarely matching things. 
When you smile or are happy, he always watches you with this dreamy, stupidly in love smile on his lips. When you're down, he doesn't need to be told, he notices and pulls you into comforting hugs.
He'll always tell you how much he loves you, but he prefers to Do so through his actions.
And he would cook for you, especially when he can sit and eat with you together.
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HONGJOONG
Hongjoong's love is silent and invisible to everyone.
He loves when you join him in his studio, even if it is to nag him to take breaks. Whenever you bring him food, he'll eat it, asking you if you have eaten and slept. If you fall asleep in the studio, he'd make sure to cover you with a blanket and also make sure that you're comfortable while he keeps working. 
Joong can't but smile when he looks at you, often exchanging cute and hidden looks with you.
Even though he's not the type of person to show physical affection, he'd cuddle up with you, whispering love confession into your ear.
When you go out, he'd shy away from public displays of affection, but he'll always make sure to show you he's there, brushing his hand against yours or other small moments of skinship without others noticing.
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YUNHO
Yunho's love is quiet but very visible to everyone.
Yunho loves to hold your hands or hug you. If you are cold, he'll offer you his scarf, jacket or gloves when outside, when at home, he'll always give you his hoodie or pull you against his chest. 
When he kisses you, he puts all his feelings for you into it, when it's in public, he'll get very flustered afterwards though. 
He will always make sure that you know how much he loves you, be it through his actions or words, he'll prove that his heart only belongs to you.
When in crowds, he'll always hold your hand or pull you against his side,so you won't get separated.
He WILL try to make you play videogames with him, but you often just end up watching him play.
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YEOSANG
Yeosang's love is quiet and peaceful, visible to observant people.
You and Yeosang don't need many words. When you're reading, he'll take a book and sit with you silently, reading as well. When you are alone, he's talkative, always asks about yourself, your interests and how your day was. He'll always tell you that he loves you and he loves to give you affectionate nicknames whenever it's just you two. 
When others are around, he'll still be close to you, occasionally exchanging skinship, but not as obvious for other people.
He loves holding hands or cuddling, but this is also more for when you two are alone. He loves to give you flowers. He'll also pick up on things that you mention in conversations that seem not very important at the first glance, but he'll always remember those things.
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SAN
San's love is loud and very visible to everyone.
When you are not cuddling, he will make sure to pull you into his arms, no matter where you are. San is very vocal about how much he loves you, telling you at any time that you're his most loved treasure. He'll always ramble to his friends and family about you and the amount of love he has for you.
He takes any occasion to shower you with gifts, be it small trinkets, jewelry or huge presents. 
He'll also secretly buy an engagement ring very early in your relationship, because he WILL marry you one day.
When you're outside, he'll hold your hand, always sit close to you and never leave your side.
San can't hide when he's jealous, so he often pouts when he sees you talking or being friendly with other men.
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MINGI
Mingi's love is loud and visible for everyone.
Mingi, where to start.
He is shy when it comes to voice out his love for you, it's not easy for him to say “I love you”, instead he will use other words or phrases. He'll give you affectionate nicknames and won't hesitate to use them in public. 
He LOVES to kiss your neck, whether it's in public or at home. Hugs and physical touch are a must, he loves to have you close to him, it grounds him. Mingi will always reach for your hand to hold it, making sure to not hurt you with his rings. 
Mingi also will care for you silently, putting food on your plate while eating, making sure you'll eat well and he'll make sure you take breaks from working and that you have a healthy sleep schedule.
He will physically drag you from your work (when you're overworking yourself in the home office) and make you lay down to cuddle and sleep in his arms!
He's easily jealous and he knows it, he'll always make sure people know you are his.
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WOOYOUNG
Wooyoung’s love is very loud and very visible for everyone.
This guy is a dramatic, whiney and absolutely touchy person. He loves you with all his heart (and his body, believe me!).
There is no time that he will not cling to you. You're out with the boys? He'll hold your hand or just have his arms around you. You're visiting his parents? His hand on the small of your back or around your waist. You're at home with him and the boys? You're in his embrace all time, he'll make the others get up and get snacks or drinks for you, so he won't have to let go of you.
Woo is the first to say “I love you.”, probably shouting it at you in front of everyone. He'll tell you how much he loves you at any moment in the day. 
Woo will shower you with kisses,touch and presents. When he's on tour, he'll facetime you (if it was for him, he'd do so 24/7 because he misses you so much).
He'd panic and freak out if you don't say ”I love you” back or pull away from his touch, scared to possibly lose you. When you're down, he will do anything in his might to cheer you up somehow.
He's very jealous, getting whiney and clingy when he sees you talk or be friendly with other guys.
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JONGHO
Jongho's love is loud but only visible to observant people.
Jongho, sweet, innocent Jongho.
He is not one to display his affection very openly, especially not in public. There will be physical touch, but small ones only. Fingers brushing against yours, his hand hovering on the small of your back, his leg touching yours when sitting next to each other. 
When the two of you are alone? He'll be very cuddly. He loves to rest his head on your chest to listen to your heartbeat. But cuddly Jongho is for you only, not for others to see or know (not even for his hyungs).
What he will do is tell everyone that you're his. He'll proudly tell you “I love you” as often as possible, no matter who is around. 
Jongho will also shower you with presents and flowers. He'll also make sure to care for you, make sure you eat well, sleep and take enough breaks to rest.
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago
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Day 3: Handob & Fingering - Joel Miller
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Summary: It was hard being single during the apocalypse so you craved those moments to yourself where you could find pleasure, but one day Joel finds you in your most intimate of situations.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, masturbation, caught, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, handjob
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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It started innocently enough but soon morphed into desperation, fueled by lust and need. The apocalypse had changed everything. Not knowing if loved ones would survive, and most of the time, they didn’t. Loneliness was writhe and soul-crushing.
But on the rare occasion, you’d find someone on the road. Someone who didn’t want to murder or steal what little belongings you’d collected over the previous months of travelling.
This was how you met the group that had allowed you the companionship and safety to travel with. Everyone most kept to themselves, but one in particular had caught your eye, even though neither one of you had spoken even a single sentence to the other. The man who’d caught your eye, Joel, seemed to spend all his time brooding in the corner, communicating with grunts and side eyes.
For months, you’d stayed with the group, and with the realisation that you didn’t need to be on guard 24 hours a day, other needs soon began to return to your body, which only increased with Joel around. 
It was just a harmless crush that fueled your quiet moments to yourself, thinking about the older man, his warm brown eyes that reminded you of large mugs of coffee, the shades of grey that faded throughout his hair and stubble over his handsome face. Even with his standoffish personality, you were drawn to him, finding his roguish behaviour and overprotective tendencies something you were drawn to.
Every other day, you’d give yourself the luxury of finding a quiet corner of wherever everyone was camping and slip your fingers into your underwear. It wasn’t that exciting, however, as you always had to keep a gun up and steady with your dominant hand, so getting off with the other took more time and didn’t hit the spot as you needed it.
It was challenging, to say the least. That is until Joel accidentally discovered you.
You’d tried to be discreet when you moved away from where the camp was situated within the forest, moving far away that you couldn’t hear anyone but close enough that if you screamed or called for help, they could hear. Finding a suitable tree, you sat on the forest floor, the chill already settling into your body from not moving around, but as your hand delved into your jeans, you soon began to warm.
Your lower lip was trapped between your teeth to try and keep any moans at a low volume. Two fingers were pushed deep into your warm hole when a tree branch snapped from being stepped on a few steps away. Instantly, you were on high alert, gun pointing in the direction to find Joel, who had decided to suddenly stumble into the hidden wooden area, worried that you had moved away from the group without backup.
The older man’s hands, including his gun, were raised to show that he was friendly and didn’t mean any harm. Those deep, honeyed eyes that you often thought of were flicking between your other hand and your face.
You didn’t know what to do. Embarrassed and wanting the ground to swallow you whole, even though some of you rationalised that this was a normal bodily function to do, you were sure he probably did the same thing to himself when he had a moment alone.
“Do you want me to keep watch?” Joel's voice was deeper than usual, husky and accent thick with his southern drawl. You blink up at him, confused and two fingers still deep inside of yourself as you open and close your mouth, unsure what to say.
“What?” you asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“I could keep watch”, Joel continued, “You know, so you don’t have to hold the gun up; I’ll make sure nothing and no one interrupts” he nodded his head towards your still-raised gun as he spoke, his face neutral so you couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Blinking your gaze away from him, the hand holding the gun lowered, deeming him no longer a threat. How on earth was Joel casually standing there, offering to keep watch while you masturbated? Unable to think of a normal response, for example, saying no and walking away and never speaking of the event, was probably what most people would do. But for some reason, in the post-apocalyptic odd world, you confidently look him in the eyes and say, “Fine”.
Joel didn’t speak again; he held his gun tighter and turned away, walking away and out of your eye. You could still hear his thick leather boots scuffing along the floor, but even that was at a reasonable distance, and if you tried to concentrate and listen for something.
Slowly, your gun was dropped to the floor, with complete confidence that he could protect you from any interference. With your dominant hand free now, you could get yourself off significantly easier than the previous times, but also, it may have been to the fact that Joel fricking Miller was within earshot and knew precisely what you were doing. With your fingers curling inside of you and massaging your clit in firm quick circles, your underwear was soaked with slick juices as you came.
Your lip was slightly swollen from having bitten it, so hard to keep your moans quietened, and even your knees felt unsteady as you stood and attempted to clean yourself. However, it was the middle of the forest, so the best that could have been done was to wipe your fingers on your jeans and deal with the dampness of your underwear.
Even though your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest as it thumped violently with anxiety, you tried to remain bold as you walked past Joel and told him, “If you want me to do the same for you, just let me know”.
This was how it all started, almost daily. The two of you would usually be on guard duty together, but you had a sneaky suspicion that Joel asked for it to be this way, and the two of you would stop on your travels and separately masturbate whilst the other stood guard.
With the additional time together during the guarding, you became more comfortable with him, talking endlessly that your little crush had manifested into something more before long. Not that you’d ever tell him; it was like a secret game for yourself, especially as you both could spend hours upon hours together and knowing when he was masturbating sent joy and heat through your entire body.
This only meant that you wanted to see how far you could take it, especially with the strain disappearing as the friendship formed. Your teeth were no longer chewing your lip as you didn’t cover your moans. Not that you would scream through your orgasm; you weren’t willing to risk that with the dangers surrounding wherever you travelled. However, it was just enough that you knew Joel could hear, especially as he would let out his husky moans as he pleasured himself.
Eventually, it got to the point where if one of you masturbated, the other would have to do it immediately due to the arousal of listening to the other. It was becoming a cat-and-mouse game, hardly even waiting for the other to clean up before shoving them out of the room or area to go and keep watch. This only became more dangerous with being caught as you’d begun to entirely remove your jeans and underwear whilst masturbating.
When you kept them on, the trapped space would cause your hands to ache from being confided and trying to find your deep, pleasurable angles. You used the excuse of needing the freedom, but it was mostly to try and lure Joel closer, which mostly worked.
Guarding from a distance became increasingly shorter until the other person was just standing at the entrance to the room or only a step away. Guns still raised in preparation, eyes darting anywhere but the masturbating individual.
However, as the weeks passed, this soon turned into eye contact, fingers pumping or stroking until completion.
The next step in the relationship - friendship - whatever it was. You were unsure as to who made the decision, the one that had been lingering on the edge of being a step too far and never being able to recover from it. Now, you and Joel would sit together and masturbate.
This new development gave you new discoveries. 1. You would orgasm embarrassingly quickly when you were sat staring at Joel’s cock and face as he touched himself. And 2. You were utterly obsessed with Joel’s cock.
Of course, he had a handsome face, but his cock was perfect, in your opinion. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. It slightly curved up, giving you more lustful thoughts, knowing just how good it would feel rubbing against your g-spot. You were always mesmerised by his cock, especially seeing it throb as his big hand moved up and down it, squeezing especially as he approached the tip before relaxing on his way back down.
Over time, you began to understand the areas that he liked to be touched, specifically the underside of his shaft and occasionally squeezing his balls would have his left knee shaking as he tried to keep composed. Your composure was thoroughly out of the window the second you both began doing it in the same room; your movements were desperate, sporadic, body trembling, eyes wide, lips parted, and moans flowing from you like one of those porn videos that circulated the internet pre-apocalypse.
You weren’t worried about it, though, because he never complained and would always cum at what he was watching, even sometimes he would react to your noises by making his own or hips jerking to meet his hand's movements. It made you feel powerful, in a way, to see him in a vulnerable state like this and trust him with being in a similar situation yourself.
However, like everything else, it wasn’t enough sometimes. You’d almost drooling over his cock, having stared at it for weeks, wishing to touch it. Did it feel as hot to the touch as your pussy? Did it feel as velvety as you imagined it to be? As downright nasty as it was, you could smell his cock, but that was given with how close you would both sit without any jeans on, but then you were obsessed with smelling him, that musky, manly scent.
So, one day, you decided to bite the bullet and ask, “Can I touch you?”
Joel's eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, his fist stopping its movements as he just stared at you like he hadn’t heard what you had asked or didn’t understand the question. You both stood there awkwardly, the group having found an abandoned mall. During your security checks, the two of you had stumbled into the women’s toilets, locking yourselves into a cubicle, jeans and underwear dropped to knees, and masturbation commenced. You were both so close, almost sharing the same air, and you were so overcome with arousal that you couldn’t help but ask that question.
The worst he could say was no; for a second, it looked as if he was heading in that direction, but then he licked his lips and agreed, but under one condition. “Only if I can touch you as well”, he drawled, eyes darting back and forth between your own.
There you were, in the middle, god knows where, potentially in imminent danger with the threats lying outside the cubicle space. But you didn’t care, nor did Joel, as he leaned his weight on an arm over your head, pushing himself closer.
The two of you were still holding back, not wanting to be the first to touch the other, but you finally gave in and lifted your palm beneath his hardened cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft. The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you had to bite your tongue and not moan just from finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.
Joel shuddered as you thumbed over his slit, gathering the bubble of precum that had formed and wiped it on the underside. His breath was warm against your face; he was so close that you could see tiny flecks of gold in his iris’. Not that you were concentrating on that, as all thoughts drifted to the fingers you’d daydreamed about for months as they moved towards your pussy.
Those delicious fingers pressed between your folds, immediately finding your aching clit and the beginning of where your wetness had already seeped. Joel was watching his fingers, and as he pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves, his eyes were suddenly drawn to your mouth as you released a quiet gasp. Moving further down, exploring your labia, he spread his fingers, allowing the cool air to swipe over your now exposed hole.
Joel was stimulating and exploring between your legs, wanting to feel every part of you, especially the juices, thoroughly coating his index and middle finger. You both tried to work together to pleasure the other, but you were both on the verge of snapping and losing control; having not been touched this intimately by another person in years, you needed this, wanted this, and already craving to be touched again.
Slowly pumping his cock, you squeezed in the areas you’d seen him do plenty of times before and were rewarded with a firm circle of your clit and a gruff grunt from Joel.
You were trying not to panic with excitement, you hadn’t even kissed yet, and here you were, giving him a handjob as he fingered you. It was like an out-of-body experience.
Joel’s fingers dipped low, leaving your clit behind, but only because he was desperate to be inside of you, feel your warmth, your texture, and wetness straight from the source. Your knees bucked as he penetrated with his middle finger. He had much wider fingers than you, so you already welcomed the slight burn from being stretched, but then he added his ring finger alongside the other, and you finally knew what true pleasure felt like.
Your head tipped back against the decaying cubicle wall, needing to use it as support as all your thoughts were directed between your legs. Your hand continued to pump his cock, but it was almost on instinct that you were doing as, only really remembering that you were getting him off because he suddenly thrust his hips as you’d squeezed harder around his tip.
This broke the tough exterior Joel was latching onto as his forehead dipped until it was resting against yours. Sharing the same air, eyes delving into the others as hands pleasured the other, moans drifting from one person's moist lips to the next.
Your cunt was tightening around his fingers, mainly as he rested his palm against your clit and pressed, adding more stimulation and fire blooming in your abdomen. Drawing your eyes away from his, you watched the tendons in his wrist twitching as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, curling into that spot within that had you lingering on the edge of euphoria.
It seemed he had been studying your movements just as much as you’d been doing with him. Everything was becoming too much, needing everything, like you would explode right there on the spot.
“Im gonna cum”, you say under your breath; not sure why you were admitting this as neither of you had spoken up to this point, and he for sure already knew this with how your body was reacting.
“Then cum for baby girl”.
Those words, the nickname, were your undoing as your thighs and hands squeezed and trembled with the pulses of your cunt as you orgasmed into his palm. Your eyes forcefully shut to try and gain some composure so you couldn’t see the lust and darkness that filled Joel’s eyes as he took in every twitch and noise you admitted.
Your fist kept moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock, and without any warning, he stepped away, allowing air to gather between your sweat-coated bodies. With your hand still moving and both of you now looking at his dick, Joel awkwardly held out his hand underneath his tip, his thighs tensing and cock becoming impossibly hard in your palm as he came. His moans were more profound than usual, lips wet from where he kept repeatedly licking them and eyes so dark they now seemed black.
You watched as his hand, which was still wet from where it had been inside of you was now catching the spurts of white seed, the glooping juice gathering in the centre of his palm until only drips from the tip remained.
Awkwardly, he poured the cum into the broken toilet as he explained his actions, “Didn���t want it to ruin our clothes”. You almost joked that you could have caught it with your mouth, but any words were merely stuck on the tip of your tongue as you had to take a minute to compose yourself.
The air was thick with scents of sweat and sexual activities, musky and dirty. Staring at the man in front of you as he tightened his jean belt, you had the overwhelming urge to kiss him, hold him, stroke his cheek as you fucked him on the disgusting floor. But you were also a coward today and made no such move. Instead, you allowed him to open the cubicle door, ensuring there wasn’t any danger before you both returned to the group like nothing had happened.
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alwaysshallow · 1 year ago
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— delicate
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader
You celebrate Simon's birthday with him. (5,6 k)
AO3 version
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"I still don't know why you did this" Simon says, as he looks at Mexican food that you brought about an hour ago; or the almost empty plates right now, it would be more proper to say.
He doesn't like birthdays – at least that's what he told himself, that's better not to celebrate them because why would he? Task Force 141 was his life right now, and with that, he had more important things to do. Like planning missions, strategies, doing research about potential threats, he wasn't an ignorant, after all. He liked being prepared, so he knows what he's going into.
No one prepared him for you, though. He was completely clueless when it was coming to you, he tried to read you, but… it was a blank. He never understood and probably never will, why were you so nice? It was like that since the beginning, when he was a douche to you, and you still were the nicest person he has ever seen.
Nicer than Johnny, since you weren't even trying to talk back to him. That was rare. Mostly, he was receiving an irritated roll of your eyes and a statement that he was mean. Which was true, so he wasn't even arguing with that fact.
With time, your relationship with him became… something more. Something that made Simon care for you, think of you when he was on the mission because he needed a reminder why exactly he needs to come home. And the reason was you; your little smile, when he was showing up at your door, right after they landed. The moment when you picked up the phone, when he needed to hear your voice to check up on you. Constant paranoia about your well-being made him do it because considering the job he had…
You never complained, though. Even if it was a night, even if you were busy, you picked up the phone, making him calm in just seconds.
It spoke volumes, how his demeanor changed – and someone would have to be blind to not notice that because boys from Task Force noticed immediately. His little smiles under his balaclava when he was on his phone (the fact he was on it was odd enough, considering he wasn't the type to use it). His even more stoic behavior, yet, more relaxed in the same time.
The way he was even eager to come home, when usually, he stayed in the base as long as possible because he hated to be in his apartment. Demons were coming out when he was alone, so he was desperate to stay with his people.
Right now, Simon Riley wanted to be around you.
There wasn't even a point in celebrating his birthday, he can't remember the last time he was doing that, but for you? Hell, you invited him over, just for him to see a ton of balloons and birthday shit like that. Simon, confused at first how you know his birthday (probably from Soap), managed to react on this with thumbs up.
And then, you gave him the tightest, warmest hug he received ever, and he melt uncontrollably, as his arms, after a few seconds, wrapped around you too. Usually he was pushing people away, or he didn't even hugged him, but you were different than other people that weren't even a question to him.
"I had to! Everyone needs to celebrate their birthday. Even if it's a small celebration" you smile widely. "Besides, you like Mexican, so it's only fair."
Simon knows you don't like Mexican. At least, not the way he did – your favorite was Italian or Chinese, but you still ordered that. Just because it was his birthday, just because you wanted to make him happy.
"I still don't know if you're happy that I did it." you speak again, and the corner of his mouth twists up. It's amusing in a way.
“I don’t really do birthdays.” he starts to explain, and you might notice how carefully he picks out words, when they usually roll off his tongue so easily. A reminder that he isn’t usually this careful. Mostly, he speaks his mind. "I don't think I deserve one. Yet, I'm grateful to… spend it with you."
You sigh quietly, as your gaze crosses his, and your eyes lock. You wanted to do everything right for him, he was… somehow, he was the closest thing you had to a best friend. Maybe something more. Your heart was skipping a beat every time that you saw him, but you decided it's better to hide it deep down.
You knew that Simon probably would never look at you that way, so it was simply… avoiding the heartbreak, yeah? You liked being his friend, and the confession would possibly destroy everything you both had.
"I know. I know, but you… deserve it. Like, it's being grateful for your birth. And even if you're not grateful, I am." you mutter, as you look away, to observe the world behind the window.
His gaze is locked on you, though. Simon isn’t one for compliments, so he has no response to that. But he appreciates it nonetheless, and he’d never even admit to that (in fear of becoming more vulnerable than he already let himself right now). He manages to let out a sigh.
“I don’t deserve anything.” he says, his gaze drifting to the window too.
It makes you sad, even if you really expected an answer like this – Riley wasn't that much opened, but you know a little details about his life. And what you knew, was… horrifying, you could only guess what he hasn't told you yet.
Sometimes you wondered how he is still alive with that much of baggage, how he is still standing. You reminded him as much as you could about this, that you are proud that he managed to be here with you.
He brushed it off almost every time, but you saw that he was thankful.
"You do. More than you're willing to admit" you bit your lip, looking at him with some kind of… vulnerability. Yet, you quickly look away, as your cheeks blush.
Simon is silent for a moment, staring at his own plate and the pieces of meat and some of the vegetables. He’s more than curious about your blush and the way you avert your eyes as soon as he catches you looking at him.
He doesn't know a thing, but he also doesn't ask. You can't be more glad in this moment because if you would start to explain, you'd slip. And if you'd slip…
You don't even want to think about it.
Simon eats the leftovers, his expression stoic. You can’t read anything about what he might be thinking, even if he's without his balaclava and mask. It was another thing that made your heart flutter – he wasn't wearing it, if it was only the two of you. At first, yes, but after eight months, he entered your apartment without it, not making a big deal about it. So, naturally, you didn't too; but every now and then, you couldn't help but look at his face. Scarred, tired brown eyes scanning everything around him; his poker face was natural at this point.
Your favorite expression was when he was smirking, he seemed like a brand new person with that expression. His blond hair only added to the attractive demeanor, which you tried to ignore, for yours and his sake.
Obviously, you wouldn't admit all of that to him.
You eat leftovers with him in complete silence, as the TV plays in the background on some old episode of Friends - it's something to cheer up the mood, at least you thought that way. You decided to finish and to rush into your room, coming back quick with a little package in hands.
"I know what you're gonna say, you don't celebrate birthdays, but" you clear your throat. "It's… something small. For you."
His curiosity is definitely piqued now, as he raised an eyebrow; without saying anything, Simon reaches forward to take the package from your outstretched hand, and he's excited as hell, you can see it, before he does his best to hide it. You don't know that, but he hasn't received a gift in a long time.
“You really didn’t have to.” he mutters.
"I know. But wanted to." you reply simply.
You sit in front of him, looking how he unwraps his gift, probably wondering what he will get. Your heart thumps in your chest like crazy, but you're trying your best to ignore it, playing with your fingers anxiously.
What if he won't like it? - it comes through your mind.
His present? Special blade with some engravings on it. Something that he wanted a long time ago, and there's some of confetti inside it as well. Confetti from a concert you both were in, three months ago, or even less. He only agreed to go with you, so you wouldn't go alone, as it was at night, but overall, it was a great fun.
He seems speechless for a moment, as he touches gently the engravings on a blade; it seems like he's curious even more, and you were grateful he was appreciating it. Not only because it was hard to find someone who will engrave things you wanted to be here, but you thought he wouldn't like it. And it held so much meaning.
Even if it was a little silly with those skulls.
“This,” he starts off with a small smile on his face, “is incredibly thoughtful of you.”
It feels like your heart skips a beat a few times, and your cheeks are heating up again because of that compliment. It wasn't even a topic to argue over that you wanted the best for Simon, and when he was like this…
God, you were so happy right now. So, so happy.
"I'm happy you like it" you smiled a bit.
“I like it?” Simon chuckles. "I like it, mhm, alright."
You can tell by the expression on his face just how much he likes it. It’s honestly the kind of gift that would make him hug you, if he wouldn't look at the blade.
“I love it, seriously.” he adds after a few seconds.
Simon inspects it more closely now, and can’t help but smile as the memories flood back to him from that concert, as he glances at confetti hidden in the box.
"Mhm." you can't help but grin right now, as you observe him.
A little, deliberate movements, whole attention to that one gift. It was hard to keep it in a secret that you bought him something, this man knew basically everything, even if he wasn't admitting it.
You made yourself happy by accident, as you looked at him.
After a while, as you bite your cheek from inside, you speak again.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" you look at him. "It's your birthday." you add, when you see the hesitation. He was already four hours here, maybe he wanted to go? It was late, so…
“Well…" he muses, looking at you. "Maybe I do want to watch a movie, mhm. I thought you had enough of me, though?” he jokes, as he puts the blade back in its gift wrap and leans back slightly in his chair.
"As I said, it's your birthday. You already had candles, gift, cake and Mexican. Now, it's time for a movie since I'm not tired with you. Pick one" you give him the remote, still smiling, as you set up everything; blanket, pillows.
Everything looks like a little silly construction that you usually built in childhood. Fort, that was nothing but blankets and sheets combined together and chairs supporting it. For the comfort, you had another blanket and pillows to lie on.
Simon doesn't even look surprised by the fact that you have a blanket and pillows ready for the movie. Knowing you little over a year right now, he probably had a feeling you’d have it completely set up, down to the last detail. You’ve never been one to do anything half-assed.
He picks up the remote and looks through the options, picking out some cheesy romance movie. It’s nothing that he’d ever watch on his own time and you know it. He knows knows you’re into these kinds of things, he called you out multiple times, even laughed about it. His main argument was that none of these situations probably ever happened in a real life.
Hell, you once watched Purple Hearts with him, and he was rolling his eyes the entire time. He stopped only because you cried over the plot.
“Hope you like it,” he says, hitting the play button.
You sigh, as you look at him with a small smile on your face.
"You have to like it! Si, come on" you groan, looking at him with amusement. "Like, it's your birthday. And How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days isn't exactly your cup of tea, and I know it." you say, as you indeed make him tea.
One of his favorite ones, though. You always had a ton of these, just in case.
He seemed to appreciate it every time he was in your apartment since he was drinking at least two cups.
“Oh, come on.” he says with a chuckle, grabbing a pillow and lying down. “You made this whole day about me. The least I can do is picking a movie. Besides, it has a really interesting title.”
You can't help but roll your eyes when he makes that statement; you smile, despite that because it really is interesting.
What's more interesting that you've seen this movie over a thousand times, but you're too charmed with his gesture to tell him that.
After a while, you join him in that fort you built, handing him a cup of tea. He hums in response, drinking it, even if it probably burns as hell.
The movie starts. Both of your eyes are trained on the TV, but there’s this tiny, almost imperceptible side-glance at you every so often from Simon's side that you don't notice. You're too mesmerized with the movie, and he seems to be mesmerized with you. Just little glances here and there, before he looks back at the TV, pretending that nothing is really happening. His expression remains stoic, but there’s a tiny little smile on his face at the corner of his mouth.
Every now and then, you can't help but sigh. Old, cheesy romcom has you in your feelings, as you love these movies; it's almost sad to think it doesn't happen. Stolen glances, smiling in right moments, feeling just… right with your person. It's just a romantic movie, yet, it's pretty depressing how Kate Hudson looks at Matthew McConaughey with all the love. Will you be lucky enough to experience that?
Romance like this doesn't happen, as Simon said. It's just something that people want, so they produce movies, to sell it to someone like you. Hopeless romantics, who read a lot of Jane Austen's books.
At least that was what he thought before the movie, before he started looking at you. Trying to ease his emotions because he was close to breaking that calm demeanor of his. Simon is careful, he doesn't want it to make it obvious that he is staring. He's not just noticing your occasional sighs, but the way you keep a small blanket wrapped around yourself. Every little action on your part seems to be adorable.
The thing you catch though, is your best friend lightly leaning onto his elbow just so he can get a bit closer to you. You smile, and you put your head is against his arm, as you wrap yourself in a blanket even more. Your eyes? Still on the screen, but that movement… made your heart skip a beat. Even if you know he doesn't like this type of contact, he doesn't seem to mind.
Yet, if he wouldn't feel comfortable, you were ready to back off.
He seems torned between backing off or making a move; small nudge, even, just something to bring the two of you closer. Maybe involuntary, maybe not, he leans in a few more inches, getting close to you. He even catches a small glimpse of your hair by the end of the movie, playing with it softly, which makes your heart go wild again.
It's like his touch burns your skin to the core. A simple movement, gentle, like he's careful with what he's doing to you. You can't help but wonder if it's something mechanical that he does, or it's something he wants to do. A question lingers on your tongue, but you don't ask it, afraid to ruin the little moment you have right now.
By the end of the movie, Simon is sitting so close to you that he can feel your hair brush against his shoulder. Your skin is hot to the touch, but he's trying not to show how hot you’re making him feel right now. The way you look when you’re comfortable, brings out even more of these little smiles on his face.
You can feel his eyes on you now, but you can also tell your attention is still firmly on the last scene. Still, something about him makes you want to pause it for a second and turn to him.
"Did you like it?" you ask, as your head turns to Simon with a small, tired smile. It's obvious you're on the verge falling asleep, but for some reason, you can't.
And he's the reason. He's the reason because you want him to feel the best at his birthday, like he never did. You want him to remember this vividly, to come back to his memory with a small smile. Whether he is out in public, or alone, reminding himself of that special occasion. You want him to brag about his birthday, about you. To tell people what happened on his birthday, to tell it was special. Even if he was pretty hidden with what he thinks.
“Mhm,” he says without hesitation, his gaze staying on you. “It was… cute.”
You know that he only watched it because he knew you might like it. You're just now realizing how sweeter he is than he likes to admit to, and it managed to bring out even a bigger smile on your face.
It was cute. What an opinion, honestly.
You see his eyes look at you, the gaze lingering a bit longer than it usually does and you feel that same old heat against your skin. His expression softens.
"Cute. It's a romcom, you know. I never thought you'd like it, after Purple Hearts" you tease him, observing his face. Your fingers are delicate against his jaw, as you caress it with your thumb. Bold movement, so to speak, but it feels just right, even if he would push you away, or move awkwardly.
"Purple Hearts was a pain in the ass, that's different" he manages to mumble, as his eyes are still locked with yours. "Doesn't even describe military right."
"Uh-huh. A hater."
"I'd say, a truther." he shrugged, his arm around you.
Silence lasts for a few seconds, before you speak again. Your voice is shy, you don't even know how he will react, but… a risk is worth it all, if it means that he will agree.
"You could stay. The night. I know I'm asking for much, but…"
“I could,” he answers almost immediately, just as softly as you do, and he notices your lip for a moment. He seems like he wants to ask you why you'd bite your lip like that, but he can't get a single word out. “It's not too much,” is all he manages, finally.
You can't help another smile that forms on your lips.
"I'm glad." you whisper, looking into his eyes.
It's… intimate from this angle, as you look at his lips next. Your gaze lingers a bit too long here, you realize, as Simon clears his throat, and you look away, trying to keep calm.
"So, I'll be… in a guest room, I guess? Do you have one?" he asks; his voice drops an octave, and your throat is suddenly dry, as you hear it. It feels like he's flirting, but you can't be sure.
"Well… I don't. But I have my bed and a couch that's very comfortable." you mutter, as you bring yourself closer to him.
"I see." he says, as his arms wraps around you tighter.
You hear him inhale softly, like he's feeling content; and you feel like this too. The feeling of him moving closer is so intense that you might end up melting right now. That thought doesn’t deter you because you’re in his arms now, and nothing else matters. Not when a man like him, secretive one, known for his stoic self, hugs you.
The next thing he does is burying his face into your hair, and with all you willpower, you try not to scream from happiness, actually. Is this really happening? It feels like nothing but a dream, he was never like that. Never so… affectionate.
"Did you like it? Your birthday." you ask, quietly, like you're afraid of ruining that moment between you two if you'd spoken any louder. "I have to know what to do in next year."
He gives you an amused look.
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” is all he says before kissing your head. It's a simple, kind gesture, probably not meaning anything, but it makes your whole night a lot better. Happy with the outcome, you sigh, content.
"Okay. Later, then" you close your eyes, wrapping the blanket more around you two, making the whole thing even more comfortable.
You feel Simon move a bit, one of his hands on your waist now, his leg slightly touching yours. This close to you, he can feel the heat of your body against his own, it's so warm. Is it feelings, or just the body heat? You can't think properly in conditions like this, when you can feel his breath against your skin, his eyes shut just like yours.
You’re too perfect right now. He’s too perfect right now.
“You’re comfortable. Right?” he asks, his tone low. It seems like he wants her opinion on things, even as simple as this touch, and it makes your heart skip a beat. Again.
Feels embarrassing at this point.
"I am, yeah." you whisper.
Feeling like you can cross another boundary you both set, your hand slides up to his back, and you start slowly caress it. Slowly, where it's all about his comfort and making him feel like he's the most important person; because he was. His scent makes you dizzy, but at the same time, it feels like coming home.
Loving one, where someone greets you every time you're back from work. Safe one, where you know you can feel like nothing is a threat, where everything is just right. Comfortable one, where you know you will rest because people here make you smile. And that pretty much was Simon Riley, even if you never said half of it to him, scared what he might think.
Did he ever felt the half of things you did? You can't help but wonder right now, as he hums under his breath, when you caress his back. It's a song from the radio, you can tell, the one that got popular so recently, but you can't tell the title. All you know is that irritate the shit out of him, and he was telling you about it on a daily basis.
Yet, he was musing it under his breath. It was quite amusing to you.
“You’re so warm,” he says. “And you're so soft, how the hell is that even possible?" he groans, his nose against your neck, as he leans a bit.
It feels like you might pass out right now with that movement of his. It takes everything in you to not bring him even closer, or to lie down on him.
Your hand on his back brings a tiny shiver to his spine, and he bites his lip as he lets out a small groan. “God.”
"Skincare. That's the main thing" you giggle.
"Skincare? That's all?" he lets out a huff.
"Pretty much, yeah."
Gears in your head slowly works, as you suddenly get up, excited. Simon seems to notice that because you both speak in one moment.
"No." and "We should get one right now."
You frown.
"Come on, Si." you nudge him. "I have to wash my face anyway, so you're just a good… addition to it. Besides, you could really use it."
"Should I be offended by that?"
"Should you?" you grin widely, as you take his hand, moving to your bathroom right now. Even if he doesn't seem to be so eager to do it, he doesn't protest, so it's a win, you think.
Your bathroom is pretty basic, but cozy in a way, if someone would pay more attention to the details than furniture. Baby blue rug, bathroom cabinet in the same color, even pot with your little plant that Simon bought you a while ago had that color tone. Your mirror, with little led lamps around it is on half of your wall, which causes your guest to mumble something under his breath, but you don't catch that.
You're focused more on putting a pink headband on you, then, on him, to keep hair off your faces before you will teach Simon how to do skincare. It's a funny thing, you think, especially when he rolls his eyes at you, but says nothing, when you guide him. First, you take off your makeup carefully, while he watches the whole process, still not saying anything. It makes you shiver a bit, considering his look is almost a piercing one, like he can see through you.
He probably has the power to do that, considering how well he knows you after all these times you were around him. And, he's extremely intelligent, so it only adds to the picture.
After your makeup is gone, you can start teaching. First step of skincare, cleansing, obviously, so you explain to him how it works – and he's more than confused why he can't just wash his face with water.
Technically, he could, but you want him to have the whole experience, so you tell him to shut up and listen.
His moves with foaming cleanser are more than amusing; you suppress a laugh because he's rough. Like it's automatic, like his hands are some kind of sandpaper, and he needs to be like this in order to succeed. He washes it with warm water, just like you, and he tries to keep up, while you apply a toner on him with delicate manner.
"You can do it like this. It's all about delicacy, enjoyment" you say, while his calloused fingers are distributing toner on you. You try not to shiver because that feeling is just everything you really needed right now.
"Who enjoys putting things on their face?" he muses under his breath, as he looks at your skin, then, right into your eyes. "You're weird for that."
"Uh huh. You say that right now, and when you're gonna wake up with pretty face, you're gonna thank me." you point at him, while you're searching for some serums, before presenting it to him carefully. "Which one?"
He raises his eyebrow for a second; he fucking reads all that is written on the packages. A comforting silence sets between you two, as he occupied himself for a second. You are trying to pick a moisturizer on the other hand, as you know his skin will probably need it. With his job, being almost constantly deployed, he didn't care about his face and its condition. So, you had to make it the best experience he had with things like this because maybe, just maybe, he would do it on his own.
Or he would do it with you when he was in your apartment. It would be a win anyway for you.
"Vitamin C sounds good" he looks at you finally, handing the little bottle to you, when you smile widely. "What?"
"Nothing. Just happy you're into it, I guess." you shrug, trying to appear as it's not a big deal, but it is.
You're on a cloud nine that 6'4 giant is doing it all with you. A ritual before bed, something that you always done yourself, texting with him during it, or sending funny photos that he always liked to see.
Now, he could experience those silly faces, when you were sticking out your tongue to him, and he was pinching you, laughing with you. Genuinely laughing, which made your heart flutter, because that sound coming from Simon Riley was like the most beautiful melody in the whole world. Pure, throaty, calming.
Every time he laughed, you were falling in love with him all over again. You simply can't help it because this man pushes your boundaries. He does unthinkable to your mind, while you're trying to keep it at peace.
"If you're gonna tell someone, I'll kill you" he starts, when you both put moistruizer over each other faces "but I enjoyed that. Even if it's consuming a lot of fuckin' time."
You grin.
"So, you want to have a pretty face, after all."
He lets out a huff.
"Who doesn't? People just don't say this openly."
You spend time with him in a bathroom for a while, talking about some things, until you both decide it's time to go to bed, as it's far past two in the morning. The problem is, even if you want to sleep, you want to talk to him still. You want to have him as close as you possibly can, without having to say it because it would be… embarrassing? That's probably the right word.
There's also the funny thing, funny question – where he will sleep, and when normally you'd offer him the couch, you feel it would be wrong now. You drag him into your room while Simon looks at you with a little confusion in his eyes. You decide to not speak first, as you think you might break and do something stupid.
It would ruin everything, you think.
He stops though, and it causes you to stop too.
It's hard to notice him in that dim light, but what you can definitely see? His brown eyes, now glimmering like the most beautiful gems in the world, locked with yours. There's many unspoken words between you two, and you can only guess what he wants to say.
But you know what you want to say.
I like you.
I always liked you, more than a friend.
I want to kiss you. I want to hold you, and I want for you to hold me. I want to take care of you, show you that love exists in real life.
Nothing comes out of your mouth, though. You're silent as a mouse, and so is he, when his hand reaches out to your jaw. His thumb traces your bones so carefully, like they're about to break if he would be any rougher. You melt into that touch, sighing softly.
“Can I ask you something?” he asks you, and when you nod, your heart heavy what he's going to tell you, he bites his cheek from inside. “Will you stay?”
You raise your eyebrow.
"Stay, as…?"
You want precision. You want him to speak up because you don't want to misread anything, you don't want to get your hope up.
Simon is silent for a moment, his eyes closing a bit as he tries to think about how he wants to word it.
“This night, being with you, I… only feel like this with you. Always.” he starts. “It’s weird for me. I don’t know how you do it.” He opens his eyes again. “I feel safe with you. And, I want you to stay here. In my life. ”
You feel all the air rush out of your body upon hearing his words. The feeling is sudden, the weight on your chest all but disappearing. It's something you can’t quite describe because you didn’t expect to feel that way tonight. Not this… all softy, lovey-dovey. Yet he's here, saying all these things.
Your heart skips a beat.
"I know I'm difficult. Those motherfuckers are saying it to me on daily basis" he snorts, shaking his head softly. "Yet, I want to be difficult around you."
"Then be" you whisper to him, as you boldly wrap your arms around his neck. Shyly, like he's about to back off, but he doesn't do that. Instead, he brings you closer, his hands on your hips right now. It's dizzy feeling. "Be difficult around me. And I'll be difficult around you."
It makes him laugh for a moment, as his forehead lightly touches yours. He has to bend down a little, as the height difference is huge, but that doesn't stop him.
"You're anything, but difficult, love, but I get the meaning" he nods.
A moment of silence passes between you two.
"For the first time in a while… I feel like I want something more from the world. That I need something more." he leans more onto you. "And that's on you."
And then, he kisses you, and it feels like a million butterflies rises in your stomach. His hand moves to the small of your back, which makes you smile wider against his lips.
For the first time, everything feels right.
For the first time, you kiss Simon Riley.
For the first time, you feel like everything will be okay.
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hazelsmirrorball · 2 years ago
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The Anonymous Red Velvet Cupcakes Baker
summary: Y/n loves red velvet cupcakes, so to win her heart someone anonymously tries to make her family’s secret recipe pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader warning: fluff, fluff and fluff. Also reminding you guys that english isn’t my main language so sorry for any mistake. a/n: Still going strong with this little valentine series. I hope all of you are up to date with the imagines and that you’re enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it. I decided to mix two things that make a good match that I love, Theodore Nott and Red Velvet cupcakes. So I hope you guys enjoy this imagine. Lots of love.
Cupids Fourteen Love Stories Masterlist.
previous imagine. 
regular masterlist.
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It was Valentines day week at Hogwarts, everyone was being extra touchy and lovey dovey with their partners, which Y/n despised. All her friends had someone to hang with and be all in love for valentines day leaving her alone to mourn her loneliness. It’s not that she willingly wanted to be alone, it was that her eyes were settled on someone specifically that wouldn’t even blink her way. But hope wasn’t lost completely she still had faith in getting someone for Valentines. But in the meantime she would just have to wait.
Y/n slowly looked up from her book, noticing in the table in front of her a small group of Slytherins, laughing their ass off at Merlins knows what. She quietly scanned the group quickly looking between the familiar faces but her eyes rested on the one person that could make her heart skip a beat,Theodore Nott. His face was covered with his usual soft glare look, very different from the other Slytherins beside him that had the faces adorned with a smile. There were a lot of ways Y/n could describe Theodore. He was different that’s for sure, he was dry when it came to talking he would speak the minimum or nothing at all, like he had million secrets to hide. He was quite handsome Y/n would even say he was the most handsomest guy in Slytherin. He was a brilliant student making himself the top of his class.  A bonus point was that Theodore was a  good quidditch player. But something drew Y/n toward Theodore and that was his coldness.  Theodre Nott was the opposite of Y/n and that’s what made him so interesting to her. She wanted to talk to him, break his walls, hell she could even try to make him smile for once.   Oh, what she would do to make him smile, Y/n being the cause of his smile would be the death of her. She could bet that his was the best smile in Hogwarts. But that was quite far from the reality she currently lived in.
She wasn’t friends with Theo, hell he didn’t even know of her existence. She wasn’t one to talk to other people besides her friend and adding to the fact that her big crush on him would make her run away just from a hi slipping out of his lips, she was doomed.And even if she had the courage to talk to him, theo rarely talk to his friends he wasn’t going to start talking out of the blue with her.  So Y/n only option was admiring from afar, something she had been doing since her eyes landed on the tall beauty,
She quickly stopped looking at the group focusing on the book she was previously reading while trying to catch up where she had left behind. But it was quite hard given the fact that she could only concentrate on two things Theodore Nott and her rumbling belly.
“Pst, Earth to Y/n” Her thoughts were quickly snapped by Hermione snapping her fingers in front of her face. She held a small box in her hand settling it in front of Y/n with a smile quickly sitting in front of her blocking her view of Theodore.
“What’s this?” Y/n asked while closing her book and looking at the box in front of her with a raised eyebrow.
“Someone left this next to my bag with a small note that said give to Y/n so I followed instructions.” Hermione said while shrugging her shoulders and taking the small paper and placing it beside the box.
“And you, Hermione Granger, didn’t ask any questions about it?” Y/n asked to inspect the box carefully.
“I tried. But this handwriting doesn’t seem familiar at all. Maybe it’s your mystery to solve” ]
“What’s there to solve? It’s probably Fred or George playing a stupid prank  on me.” While slowly pulling the nicely done ribbon adorning the box.
“I actually don’t think it’s a prank. We are near valentines day. Maybe you have someone that you like..” Hermione quickly gets cut off by Y/n.
“You think I have a secret admirer? Please Hermione, I think you’ve been spending so much time with Harry and Ron.” She muttered annoyed , stopping herself from opening the box.
“Y/n live a little. Someone took the time to give you something and you’re being a downer”
“Fine I’ll open it” Y/n mumbled while opening the small box. Her lips curved into a small smile noticing the cute and beautifully made cupcake inside. Y/n loved cupcakes, specifically Red velvet cupcakes. It was her  go to everything. If she was sad she ate a Red Velvet cupcake, angry red Velvet cupcake, happy  Red Velvet cupcake. Everything could be resolved with a Red Velvet cupcake. But in February it tasted so different, with more love. This was the perfect excuse to sneak as many  Red Velvet cupcakes as possible without anyone judging.Red Velvet Cupcakes were her thing. Y/n did miss the cupcakes from back home, the one’s at Hogwarts never tasted as good.  But seeing a nicely made cupcake made her remember her grandma's baking and the cupcakes she used to make for her. Whoever made this was succeeding to get on her good side.
The next day, Y/n decided to do some light reading to catch up on some work. She headed to the library and when she finally stumbled with her usual chair she stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes trailed towards the small box similar to the day before, placed on the table where she used to sit this time with a small note.
to Y/n,
Here's a good homemade cupcake. I hope it sweetens your day. Heard you didn’t have the best time at charms today, hope this makes you feel better.
Several thoughts went through Y/n head, one of her friends had to be pranking her. But like Herminone had mentioned the handwriting wasn’t similar to anything she had seen before, it was unknown to her. Maybe they paid someone to write it down for them. She slowly opened the box to see a cupcake similar to the one before which she sadly couldn’t enjoy because Ron had devoured it.  She slowly pulled the cupcake to her lips while looking around to see if the person was close by since the cupcake was still warm.
She took a small bite and her eyes opened widely. THe cupcake tasted exactly like the one her grandma made when she was a kid. The Red Velvet was chewy with several chocolate chips and chunks filled in the middle with a cheesecake filling and topped with a wonderful cream cheese frosting.It was God sent on eart which made her quickly trow her head back out a pleasure while taking another big bite of the cupcake. But her happiness came to a stop when it came to her head the fact that no one besides her family knew about the cheesecake filling so she instantly knew that the cupcake wasn’t made by anyone close to her. But who would just leave a random cupcake for her? twice? That was something she was going to find out.
The girl slowly turned the paper that was previously written on and wrote down:
to the anonymous red velvet cupcake baker,
I'm suspicious about the fact that you know my grandma's recipe. But I wanted to say thank you for those cupcakes!! It was so lovely.
Two days left before Valentine's day and all she had was one letter and two eaten cupcakes but none to thank personally. Hermione and her tried deducing who could be a good baker but no one could guess that simple detail. It was driving her insane, she couldn’t think straight all day, all night, everything revolved around those cupcakes and that damn anonymous baker. Hell, she even asked her grandma if she had given anyone the family recipe, which she quickly responded offended with a no. So she decided to relax and followed her normal routine, ending her day as she always did, at the library. A smile grew on her face when she noticed another box where she usually sat at, again. She quickly walked up to it trying not to fall in the process. She quickly took the note in her hands and read it.
dear red velvet cupcakes enjoyer,
I see we’re on a code name basis. Here’s another cupcake to ease your nerves, just enjoy it. Maybe if you relax I’ll personally deliver a dozen to you. Made it with lots of love.
love,  anonymous red velvet cupcake baker.
Y/n looked around again trying to see if someone was near her but again she found herself with no one around her. She took another bite enjoying the sweet gooeyness. She quickly shook her head and took her pen out to leave them a little note.
dear anonymous red velvet cupcake baker,
I see you added peppermint, makes me assume you like mint chocolate ice cream which scares me a lot. Better luck next time.
love, red velvet cupcake enjoyer.
Valentine's Day finally came and by the look of it more people had coupled up, even more than before making Y/n more annoyed than ever. All she wanted to do was eat her cupcakes. She counted the hours wanting to see what the mystery person left. So far Y/n had a horrible day but her smile didn’t fall not even once waiting and wishing to try the red velvet sweetness. So in her free period she quickly ran towards the library pushing through the people in front of her. Her smile slowly dropped, noticing the empty table in front of her. She sighed while sitting down on her usual chair this time with a different energy. She pulled out her book and attempted to study. Lost in her books she lost track of time noticing she was late to her charms class. She quickly ran the halls trying to get to her lecture as quickly as possible. When she finally passed the door and excused herself with her professor she almost walked back out when her eyes stumbled upon the empty chair next to Theodore Nott. She quickly walked towards the chair sitting quietly trying to catch on the notes that were previously given. It was no surprise that she was failing the class and she least needed to be late. But what surprised her even more was Theodrore Nott’s notes slipping across the table so she could copy them off from.
“Thanks” quickly mumbled while messily writing her notes which Theodore simply nodded while looking towards the professor.
When the class finally ended and the class started to leave the classroom. Y/n picked up her bag ready to leave but she quickly stopped dead in her tracks when she heard those four letters slipped out of those lips.
“Here”
She quickly looked up towards him, her mouth opening like a fish under water. She quickly noticed the small smile plaster on his face. She tried to understand what was happening. She opened her mouth but words didn’t seem to come out of her lips. She could feel her face turn hot and she couldn’t look him straight in the eyes. All she did was look down at the box in his left hand and the bouquet of flowers in his right. She had no idea how he even hid that so well
“Excuse me?” she tried to get out. It was barely understandable, he had to lean over to hear her right.
“I thought you read the letters I wrote? I said I was going to give them personally to you” he said while directing the box and roses towards you.
“Wait, you were the one making the cupcakes?” She asked, starting to think it was all a prank. What was happening. c
“Yes! Why are you so surprised? Didn’t expect me to be good at baking?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. It was the first time  she had heard him speak that much.
“I just didn’t expect Theodore Nott to anonymously leave me Red Velvet cupcakes in an attempt to show me he knows my “secret” recipe.” She said while taking the box and flowers in her hands.
“Go ahead, try it!” He said patiently, waiting for her reaction to the cupcakes. She quickly took a cupcake out of the box and slowly brought up a cupcake towards her lips taking a bite while closing her eyes softly.
“Well, you excelled your duties as a baker. It tastes amazing” She responded with a smile. Theodore slowly leaned towards her making her nervously stop dead in her tracks. He passed her thumb against her lips, cleaning the excessive amount of frosting. He quickly pulled his towards his own lips tasting it.
“Took my chances. So, Y/n’s secret recipe is cheesecake filling.”
“Shh, don’t say it too loudly, you’ll ruin the family recipe.” She responded playfully with a smile.
“Sorry, Sorry but you should tell that to Hermione” He said acting confused
“I don’t understand,” Y/n asked, scrunching up her nose.
“She was the one that gave me your grandmas address to owl her for the recipe”
“Wait, you asked my grandma for her recipe? That traitor she told me she had no idea about anyone else knowing about that recipe ”
“Well now we have to keep it in our family” Theodore said winking at her
“Slow down Theo. Take me out to dinner first then I’ll decide if I’ll marry you” She said sarcastically.
“Bold” he laughed
“But seriously,  why were you doing all of this in the first place?” She asked, confused.
“You make this cute little face when you bite the cupcakes. I wanted to be the one that made you do that adorable face.”
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bookwormjust · 1 month ago
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Imagine: Outer Banks - Rafe Cameron and You
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The salty breeze of the sea whipped through your hair as you sat on the dock, your feet dipping into the cool water. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the marshland, the world around you painted in soft oranges and pinks. You had a few hours to yourself, which was rare, and you were soaking it in. But something had been tugging at your heart all day, a strange feeling that something was wrong.
Your phone buzzed beside you, breaking the calm. Picking it up, you saw Rafe’s name flash across the screen. Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like him to text like this. You opened the message:
Rafe: "Where are you? I need you right now."
Your stomach tightened. You could feel the desperation in his words, something was off. Without thinking, you texted back quickly.
You: "I’m at the dock. Come."
A few minutes later, you heard the roar of his motorcycle in the distance. Soon, Rafe pulled up, his face hard, jaw clenched, eyes dark. His sandy blonde hair was disheveled, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found.
He walked toward you, shoulders tense, hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes, those piercing blue ones that usually made you feel like you were the only person in the world, were clouded with something darker tonight.
"Rafe…" you whispered, standing up. He didn’t say a word as he reached you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, almost desperately. You could feel the weight he was carrying. His body trembled slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing uneven.
He didn’t have to explain. You already knew. Ward Cameron. The constant pressure. His father’s harsh words, the feeling of being second to Sarah—always Sarah. He was trying to hold everything together, but tonight, it had become too much.
"I can’t do this anymore," he muttered, voice strained against your skin. "He’ll always choose her over me, no matter what I do."
Your heart broke hearing him like this. Rafe, who always put on a tough front for everyone else, was crumbling in your arms. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, reaching up to brush a few curls of your brown hair away from your face.
"Hey, look at me," you whispered, your brown eyes searching his, trying to find the boy beneath all the layers of pain. "I'm here, and i know it means nothing right now, but... Me, i put you first. You're not alone."
Rafe’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still there, raw and deep. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours, your tan skin warm against his cold, stressed body. You ran your fingers through his messy blonde hair, feeling the tension in his shoulders start to ease, just a little.
"I don’t know what I’d do without you," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I need you. I just… need you tonight."
You nodded, pulling him down to sit with you on the edge of the dock. You leaned against him, wrapping your arms around his waist, holding him close. His heartbeat was erratic, but as the minutes passed, it started to slow, his breathing becoming more even. The weight of the world seemed to lift, if only a little, as he rested his chin on top of your head.
You felt him relax under your touch, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. The silence between you was comforting, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore, the distant call of seagulls, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
You whispered softly, "You have me, Rafe. Always."
And in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, no matter what his father said or how much pressure he was under, you would be the one to remind him that he wasn’t alone—that he didn’t have to fight his battles without someone by his side. You were his comfort, his anchor, and tonight, that was all he needed.
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sweetpandorabox · 2 years ago
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Draco Malfoy as a boyfriend 🐍🍏
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⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙
Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.
Dating this angsty yet hot and twitchy little ferret could include:
💵☠️👱🏻
He's the hate, everyone, but you kind of boyfriend. Seriously, he treats everybody else like absolute rubbish, but you.
He won't shut up and brags about you all the time like you're a trophy that he won, more than he brags about his dad honestly which annoys the living hell out of Crabbe & Goyle who has to listen to that all day.
Narcissa loves you and you stay at the Malfoy manor often, you stay with them so much in fact that Narcissa had a whole room for you at their place, but who are we kidding you still sneak into Draco's room and sleep with him when you're over.
Not really into cuddling all that much (unless you ask for it) but you sitting on his lap and a make-out session sounds good since he prefers it that way.
Treats you like royalty. Do you want a gold necklace? you got it, you want new clothes? you got it, you want treats from the shops? you got it. Anything you ever wanted, seriously, he will get it because he has the money for it.
When you fight he holds grudges for a bit because of his pride, but not too long because he can't stand you not being with him or not talking to him and just starts apologizing loads as long as he's forgiven and is able to kiss you he can let down his pride.
He loves and thrives on PDA with you anywhere & anytime.
He calls you cute nicknames like love, princess, sexy, or bunny.
His love language is probably physical touch, and no it is not all because of sex, he likes to just hug, hold and kiss you or have your arm wrapped around his arms or his neck because he connects with you through physical touch and he may not be the best when it comes to talking but he sure is good at showing you that he loves you in other ways.
Likes when you call him Dray, Daddy (😏), Handsome, or Hottie.
Obsessed with giving hickeys on you, sometimes he would ask for you to put some on him because he's proud of your relationship.
People get scared to talk and approach you let alone look at you because, Draco threatens everyone who tries, he only trust the friends that you already have right now.
He always feels the need to say a heartfelt “I love you.” As a reminder, because it’s something he never heard from anyone and wanted you to get the affection he didn’t.
Like to see you all flustered so he usually pins you against the wall and just stares at you until you turn red then he kisses your forehead and just laughed it off, which always annoys you a bit.
Oh if anyone says one bad thing about you or even gives you a dirty look, his father will certainly be hearing about this, and trust me you do not want to mess with an angry Draco.
He's definitely got a daddy kink, but otherwise, he's dominant and into some rough stuff like hair-pulling, choking, spanking, and on some rare occasions he likes biting.
When it's your Birthday, Anniversary, Valentine's day, or any sort of holiday that requires giving gifts he spoils you rotten with any and every expensive gift you can imagine that it almost makes you feel uncomfortable about how much money everything cost, but he gets pissed off you don't take it so you're forced to have them.
He's probably the type to get a tattoo that resembles you in a way whether it's your birth date, your special nickname, or the date that you two were officially a couple.
He's probably the type to never wears a shirt whenever is just the two of you, but I mean who's complaining right? bet he's got a nice body too.
He's known to wear a lot of suits and elegant-looking clothes to keep his Malfoy image upfront, and although he looks incredibly attractive in his formal wear, he's been letting loose ever since he started dating you and would occasionally wear sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts, and sweatpants which makes him look even more attractive since he looks so comfortable.
A/N: Hey I hope you like this one, I'm going to drown myself in some schoolwork now lol bye bye I love you. xx
Taglist:
@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl
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meiliarotten · 1 year ago
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Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo
Day 30: Just What You Need (Jealous Sex)
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🔞MINORS DNI🔞
Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader
Summary: Sniper seems to be getting a little jealous of your interactions with the other mercs, so you decide to remind him just how much you need him
Tags: Jealousy, insecurity, talking things through, marking, biting, scratching, praise, possessiveness, dirty talk, aftercare, reassurance
Word Count: 2.3k
The Masterlist
It was dinner time at the base, and Sniper was absent. This usually wouldn’t be so odd. Everyone knew that he was a man who enjoyed being alone. That van of his was practically his own personal sanctuary, and skipping meals to hide out in it was a fairly regular occurrence, but today seemed different for a number of reasons.
For one, it was Engie’s night to cook, and no one ever dared to miss a rare chance at some of the Texan’s home cooked food. He was undeniably the best cook among the mercs. Second, while the daily battles had ended in a loss, Sniper still seemed uncharacteristically annoyed. His temper was significantly shortened, especially when dealing with his fellow mercenaries. The next thing you knew, he was nowhere to be found.
Something was definitely off, you decided. So, after just a few bites of some casserole- you hadn’t bothered to ask what kind it was, and honestly it tasted so good you couldn’t be bothered to- you decided to tell Engie to save your plate and went straight to Sniper’s van. It was there that you found him vigorously cleaning his rifle, arranging and rearranging his supplies in an almost frantic manner. His expression was screwed up into a scowl. He looked deep in thought, albeit very unpleasant thoughts.
“Sniper?” Your presence startled him, but thankfully his gaze seemed to soften when it fell on you.
“Oh, it’s just you, doll.” He placed his gun to the side, pulling you into an embrace and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Finished with dinner already?”
“I didn’t eat much. I wasn’t feeling very hungry,” you said, letting yourself lean against the gunman, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. “But really I just wanted to see you.”
“Oh?” Sniper tilted his head inquisitively.
“I know you enjoy your isolation, but it’s not like you to completely disappear for an entire afternoon,” you said, finally just asking the burning question outright. “What’s wrong?”
You felt him tense up immediately, taking a few steps back and looking around, as if searching for anything he could possibly use to redirect this conversation. You waited patiently for him to answer you, making it clear you weren’t going to just let this go. When he finally did respond, he wouldn’t look you in the eye. He almost looked ashamed.
“‘Medic sure did compliment you a lot during the post battle check ups today,” he muttered.
You squinted at him, trying to understand what exactly that had to do with what was bothering him. “Uh, yeah. He said I had ‘great bone structure,’” you said, recalling the encounter. “Honestly, given his track record with skeletons, I would consider that more of a threat than a compliment.”
“And you seem to have caught Spy’s eye as of late too,” Sniper went on, barely acknowledging your response. “I can see the way he looks at you, even on the battlefield.”
“I hadn’t really noticed…” you trailed off, still just as confused as ever. How had these seemingly small incidents contributed to Sniper’s mood? They hadn’t even involved him. These were all interactions that other teammates had with you exclusively.
And that was when realization finally hit.
“Oh, Sniper,” you said, eyes widening. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous!”
The immediate flush that washed over his face confirmed your suspicions. Even he seemed to know deep down that his feelings were unfounded. You were still quick to soothe him before he started to ramble. He always had a tendency to do that when he was caught off guard.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed. I’m glad you told me.” Sniper was facing away from you, unwilling to look you in the eye. You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close from behind. You felt his posture begin to relax.
“I’m sorry doll,” he finally said. “It’s just, when it comes to looks I ain’t much compared to those two. I wouldn’t blame you if you preferred…” he trailed off, as if the very thought was too painful to say aloud. Still, you got the message.
Part of you was hurt that he would think you would be so quick to leave, but you remained calm. You knew that these thoughts were coming from a place of self consciousness. However, you weren’t sure how much reassurance you could offer beyond promising you wouldn’t leave. Sniper could be stubborn, and that translated into his insecurities as well. You thought it out, eventually realizing that an actions over words approach may be more effective, and much more enjoyable.
“You know what,” you began, walking over to the bed where you laid back with a mischievous grin. “If you’re so worried about me running off, how about you come over here and remind me how much I need you.”
Sniper was flustered in an instant, stammering out a one word response. “What?”
You lazily stripped off your shirt, tossing it aside. “Do I need to repeat myself?” You asked, watching as Sniper’s gaze trailed downward, his eyes widening. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today. “I want you , Mundy.”
The use of his real name was always bound to get him riled up, and sure enough, he didn’t hesitate to climb into bed with you. Deft fingers made quick work of your pants, nearly tearing them off. There was the wild man you knew and loved! This rough treatment was already turning you on, your soft whines being quickly muffled by Sniper’s lips pressing against yours.
His kisses were desperate, almost ravenous in their intensity, slowly moving from your lips to your jawline. You felt his hands wandering your body, feeling every curve and edge, taking the time to make sure no part of you was left uncaressed. After years of working a job that often necessitated staying in one spot for long periods of time, Sniper had become a very patient man. Plus, he loved the foreplay anyway. He loved the way he could slowly work you up into an eager mess, watching you warm up, listening to your soft sighs turn into moans until you were outright begging for his cock. It was like a game that Sniper alone had the privilege to play, a sight just for him and no one else.
That jealousy flared up a bit, not entirely forgotten despite his arousal. Sniper bared his teeth against your neck, which he had begun gently suckling at just moments before. He didn’t miss the way you arched against him at the sensation of his teeth grazing your skin. Curiously and cautiously, he went a bit further, placing a bite on your collar, not hard enough to break the skin, but definitely firm enough to hurt a little. You moaned , and the noise went right to his core.
You quite liked this possessive side of your lover. With the addition of biting, it almost felt like you were being claimed. “Are you trying to mark me up?” you asked, breathless. “Are you going to make sure everyone knows who I belong to, Mundy?”
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Sniper said, chuckling as he descended upon your breasts, sucking roughly at the soft flesh until hickeys bloomed in all shades of red. He watched them darken into blue and violet hues, joyfully decorating your skin with his marks. Your hips bucked upward, grinding against his clothed erection until he pulled his lips away from your chest with a gasp. “Bloody hell, doll. Don’t you have any patience?”
He pushed your hips down, squeezing hard before letting go. It was all the warning you needed to keep still. Although it was quite difficult, especially when you saw him begin to unfasten his belt. You watched eagerly as he freed his cock, precum already beading at the tip. Your gaze was pulled away from it when your chin was tilted upward, being met with Sniper’s smug, grinning face.
“Spread those legs for me, love.” He pushed at your thighs and you let them fall open. “That’s it, nice and wide.” He kneaded the soft flesh of your inner thighs, feeling it give beneath his fingers. Sniper’s mouth nearly watered at the sight of you submitting so eagerly. You really were all his, sometimes he just needed to remind himself of that, and he couldn’t think of a better way to do that than fucking your brains out.
With little warning, he thrust into you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, clenching around him and taking a moment to be thankful that you were wet enough to take him in one thrust. He wasted little time setting a steady pace. Any semblance of kisses were now full on bites as he continued to mark you up, now moving to your collar. If Sniper had been willing to tease you more, he may have taken the time to descend further down your body, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs, but for now, the long, stinging scratches that his nails left along that supple skin would have to be enough.
“You take all of this so well. Good girl. My good girl.” The possessive tone was very obvious now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to you before he could bury his face in the crook of your neck again. His eyes were half lidded, teeth clenched with concentration as he thrust into you.
“You’re so hot like this. So fucking handsome.” You felt him shudder slightly and his expression softened, giving in to your praise for just a moment. He rarely let it show, but he loved it when you let him know just how desirable he was.
“You’re mine, doll.” He began to speed up. “Tell me, please, fucking say that you’re mine!”
“I’m yours!” You cried before he could even finish his sentence, already repeating the words like a mantra. “Yours, all yours.”
“Spy couldn’t fuck you like this. Medic couldn’t. No one else could. Only me.” His words were growing frenzied and his hips stuttered. You knew he was close. “I’m the one making you feel this good. Only I can give you what you need.”
“Fuck, yes!”
“ Say it.” Snipers fist closed around your throat. He didn’t squeeze. You still breathed easy, but the action alone still sent a shiver up your spine.
“Only you can fuck me like this, Mundy!”
“That’s right. Keep screaming my name, doll. I want you to scream it until you come.” He released your neck, taking your hand and guiding it down to your clit, “Go on, make yourself come on my cock.”
You chanted his name, your voice heightening in pitch, cutting yourself off with breathy moans until the tight coiling within you reached its limit. You cried out for him one last time before your orgasm hit you like a wave. Had anyone been passing by outside, they would surely know exactly who you belonged to. Sniper reached his peak just as you were coming down from yours, the feeling of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge. You watched him come undone, throwing his head back with a shuddering groan. When he regained some composure he was breathing heavily, looking over your body and taking stock of every bruise and bite mark that had bloomed on your skin. The sight nearly made him reel back.
“Fuck, that was really rough,” he muttered, his expression pinched with worry. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s just a bit of bruising, nothing that wouldn’t usually come from sex.” You tried to reassure him, but Sniper looked terribly guilty. You sat up, doing your best to hide a wince as you did so. “Hey, I’m serious. I’m not hurt. Come here.”
You pulled him forward and down onto the bed with you, letting him rest his head in your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt away from him as he relaxed into your touch. Sniper hummed contentedly, almost ready to let the worry melt away, ‘almost’ being the key word there.
“You know I would never think you’d run off with someone else,” Sniper said. “Those were just stupid, overblown emotions talking-”
“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” you said, cutting him off before he could start to ramble. “They may be a bit irrational, but never stupid. We all have thoughts like that sometimes.”
Sniper chuckled, tilting his head up to look at you. “Even you, love?”
A soft blush settled in your cheeks as you recalled a few times you had gotten a little defensive during some nights out with the team. “You’re an attractive man with a sexy voice. Let’s just say women notice you when we’re out celebrating a win at a club or bar.” You said, frowning slightly. “The drunk ones can be especially bold.”
“Really?” Sniper asked, sounding incredulous. “I guess I’ve never noticed. I only got eyes for you.”
You smiled down at him and he mirrored you with his own grin, looking perfectly happy to use your chest as his own personal pillow. “I know,” you said. “Still, it makes me want to mark you up sometimes too, cover your neck with love bites so that everyone knows you’re taken.”
“Well, given what I just did to you, it’s only fair that you get to have your way with me,” Sniper said. That immediately piqued your interest.
“Is that an offer?” you asked. The only answer you got was a sudden kiss, which you quickly moved to deepen with a bite to Sniper’s lower lip. He moaned softly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied you would be smirking. It was your turn to show off your possessive side.
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igncrxntripley · 2 years ago
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I know you said that you and another anonymous person was saying that you are in need of so Damien fluff. And do I have a concept.
What if, for some random reason Damien and you are the only one from tjd to have a day off and everyone else has to go to work. I can imagine secret weapon being exited but also sad because their like “It’s just Damien and I together. We can relax.” But then them going “Oh god I miss Rhea, Finn and Dominik.” And they to hid it from Damien.
i miss those freaks
a/n: this is so freaking cute goodnight
mentions: @babybatlover @ripleyswhore
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It was rare that Y/N and Damian had different days off than the rest of their partners; not only that, but days off were rare to begin with. They always made sure to treasure them, and this was no different. Y/N and Damian were home alone while Rhea, Finn, and Dominik were on the road for some shows. It wasn’t even going to be that long until you saw them again so it shouldn’t have been that big of a deal. But there was still a sense of…emptiness. 
Damian laid back on the couch with Y/N’s head in his lap, twirling her hair between his fingers as they watched TV together. They had a nice morning with him making breakfast in bed and cleaning up around the house, but he could tell now that they were sitting down and relaxing that Y/N’s energy was off. Damian gently tilted her head towards him and brushed his thumb over her forehead. “You gonna tell me why you’re so quiet, mi amor?” 
Y/N looked up at Damian and gave a small shrug. “No reason, I feel just fine.” She said softly. Damian gave her a knowing look though and gave her another opportunity to answer. “Nice try, baby. Try again though.” 
“I hate how good you are at reading people.” She sighed in response to Damian’s words and pulled the blanket around herself tighter. “I think I just miss the others.” Damian couldn’t help but smile and continued to stroke her forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with that, baby.” He said softly. “I mean, we’re usually always on the road together anyway. But they’ll be home in a few days, and in the meantime you can take advantage of having some time off.” Y/N nodded a little and rolled over so her head was in Damian’s stomach. “I guess. That doesn’t make it any easier.”
At that point, Damian had an idea; he knew everyone was only just getting to the arena and wouldn’t have anything to do for a couple of hours, so why not take advantage of some free time? He grabbed his phone and started scrolling through his contacts. “I think I have something that could help.” Damian Facetimed the first name he found, which was Finn, and waited for him to answer. 
The remaining members of The Judgement Day had started getting comfortable in their dressing room area. Finn was relaxing on the couch when his phone rang, and he smiled when he saw who it was. He answered and smirked at his partner’s face. “Wow, missing us already?” Finn teased. Rhea and Dominik smiled when they heard Finn and both of them stayed close by to listen. 
Damian chuckled and looked down at Y/N, adjusting the phone so Finn could see both of them. “I mean, I always do. But someone is missing the three of you a whole lot more than she’d thought she would.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his words before looking at Finn. “He’s a jerk.”
Finn chuckled, Dominik moving to sit next to him and smiling when he saw his partners. While Finn kept an arm around Dom, he started talking to Y/N. “So the princess misses us? You were practically begging us to get out when we left.” He teased with a smirk. Finn wasn’t wrong; Y/N was excited to have time alone with Damian and was bouncing up and down with excitement when the others left. But now she wanted them home. “Yeah but I didn’t realize how hard it would be when you guys left.”
Dominik gave a sad smile. “That’s so cute.” He mumbled, Finn smiling at him and making room for Rhea. “You just need to get through the next few days, babygirl.” She reminded Y/N. Damian nodded and twirled some of her hair. “They’ll be home before you know it. Who knows, maybe you’ll miss us being here alone.” He teased. “Then we won’t have to fight for space in bed.”
Y/N giggled and covered her face. “Fuck, she’s cute when she laughs.” Finn mumbled. “Damian’s still a prick though.” She giggled again and leaned into Damian’s hand. “He’s got a point though. Dom and Rhea take up all the room in bed.”
They all spent the next hour talking before Finn, Dom, and Rhea needed to head out. “We’ll call you tonight after the show, babygirl. We promise.” Dominik said softly and everyone nodded in agreement. “And when we come home, we’ll show you how much we missed both of you.” Rhea smirked, making Damian roll his eyes. Y/N shivered in anticipation at the thought, and they wrapped up their phone call. 
Damian set his phone down before pulling Y/N up into his lap, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head. “I think we can find plenty of ways to entertain ourselves without them.” He teased.
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feyhunter78 · 2 years ago
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Hi, I love your works. This is the first ask I've ever done so sorry if I do something wrong. Could you perhaps write some dad!elrond. Either with reader as his partner or his child? Also if you could make it a younger child? Maybe child or toddler?
Hope your day is going great.
Hey love!!! You caught me on the right day! I've got some free time at work, so I thought I'd get this Dad!Elrond headcanon out for you!
I hope you have a wonderful day as well! Thanks for requesting!!!!
Dad!Elrond Headcanons
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So, of course we know he’s a good dad, we see that in the movies and later books, but we’re talking about young Elrond, Mr. I overwork myself until I fall asleep standing up.
He’s not opposed to children, in fact he thinks they’re precious and should be treasured, but he hasn’t given much thought to them at this point in his life.
Then he meets you, falls in love, and boom a child. A little baby girl with your eyes and his hair. She’s a happy baby who laughs at everything and is just so curious about the world around her.
At first Elrond is overly cautious, he’s afraid to accidentally harm her, or make her cry. But this doesn’t mean he’s not trying to be the best father he can be. He’s writing Durin and Disa for advice, stopping random parents on the street and asking them questions, he’s reading books and consulting with healers if your daughter’s forehead even feels slightly warm.
But he’s so nervous, so he’s a little…almost formal? with her. Not cold, but stiff. You spend most of your time with her and Elrond takes over the household chores, making sure you have nothing to worry about and can focus on your adorable child.
Then comes the first time he's left alone for more than an hour or so with her. You’d reassured him that everything would be fine, and that you were just a few streets down at your parents' house if he needed anything.
Elrond definitely sits across from your daughter and just stares at her, trying to figure out the best way to entertain her. She stares back, and then she starts giggling, and reaching for him, and his heart just melts. He scoops her up, and she grabs at his face, her big eyes just like yours. He’s obsessed, even more obsessed when her first word, which you were so upset you missed, was “ada.”
After that he takes her everywhere with him, to deliver speeches, to run errands, to visit the High-King, or Galadriel, your daughter, is always with him, waving to people as they pass by.
You rarely see one without the other, and everyone thinks it’s the cutest thing they’ve ever seen. He calls her his “little starling” and refers to you both as his “starlight, and starling, the greatest joys of his life.”
You actually have to stop him from climbing up in his writing tree with her, reminding him she can’t catch herself. He then decides to strap her to him so that she can’t fall. Which you still have worries about.
And your baby girl? She’s a daddy girl, has him wrapped around her little finger. Anything she wants, she gets. Sweets? Of course, anything for his little starling. A new toy all the way from Khazad-dûm? He’s already writing Durin and asking him to make two in case the first one gets broken. Affection? Please, Elrond never put your daughter down.
She’s spoiled rotten, but still remains the sweetest and most well-behaved child. She can sit quietly for hours as Elrond writes, and she loves to go to the market with you, babbling as you inspect different products, and produce.
All in all, Elrond is a supportive and attentive father who adores his daughter and would do anything for her.
Tag list: @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority, @jesticace
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flower1622 · 11 months ago
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Has anyone noticed that many heroes have weird or toxic girlfriends?
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. I used to be a fan of this couple, but then I noticed that sometimes Annabeth can be a little bully to Percy....making fun of his intelligence....like she is superior and he would totally be lost without her. I just wanted to see how she would manage without him in Tartarus. She can be arrogant and bossy. In my opinion, I think she got really interested in Percy because of his powers....you know being the big hero stuff and....she was lonely after losing Luke, Thalia...and many other things that happened to her. Her fatal flaw is pride, so I guess she rarely apologizes for her mistakes and learn from them. I don't blame Percy for having insecurities to express himself because he gets afraid of Annabeth's reaction...and the jealous thing with Rachel....everyone already felt jealous...but treat someone bad just because of it and not even apologize to the person? This is totally creepy....If I had a friend like Annabeth, totally obsessive and possessive of me...I would keep my distance from her. If I'm not mistaken, Annabeth even made Percy ask her to dance...is this serious? Because I don't remember from the book....grateful for that...but still...If a guy doesn't ask you out, don't make him do it. Dance alone...love yourself first... it's better than humilate yourself for a man...and he can do whatever he wants to do...he doesn't have to dance with a girl only because she ordered him to do it...
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Marinette is a sweet person, but sometimes she can be a creppy stalker. She even planned her future with Adrien who didn't even know her that well at the time. She even stole his phone. I see her character a little boring and forced sometimes. I never liked her as Ladybug because she was always bossy and boring...and sometimes even cold to Chat Noir. I don't like how they put the two together...her as someone smart and powerful and him just Chat Noir, the sidekick...the friend...the most important second hero. I think the best episode was Chat Blanc, when he used his power and she was gone. But her other version appeared to save the day...as usual....and I think she can be selfish too, especially to Adrien. Both remind me of Percy and Annabeth...I even stopped watching the series because of Ladybug.
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I'm a big fan of this couple, but still....in all universes, Lois keeps something from her personality...that she is always bossy and arrogant...and sometimes a little boring. But I guess it may be Clark's style because there is another man with the same personality....
Sometimes, Lois Lane can be a little annoying; obsessive and possessive of Superman. I know that she fell for Superman because of his values, but I think deep down she fell for his powers and beauty too...and she treated Clark like she was superior to him....
She looks like the only nice version of Annabeth. Well..depends on the universe too...because she was a villain in one reality...and at least in the new superman and lois series, she fell for Clark first 😊
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I love her so much, but she is a stalker or used to be..I don't know. She always followed Naruto and it was kinda creppy. He didn't like her or notice her existence....and even Naruto called her weird. Well, at least she was the only girl who never liked Sasuke!
In another version or dream (whatever that was)...Hinata even threatens Sakura for going out with Naruto, who wasn't even her boyfriend....
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For me, Iris is a bad version of Lois Lane. She can be annoying, bossy and boring. I don't think that Barry and her have a lot of chemistry. She bothered more the team than helped. Sometimes, she can have her great moments. She even jumped from a building to try to save Barry. She could have died. So, yeah....she can be good. But, still..."Savitar only had one job...only one job" 😅🤣
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corinthianism · 1 year ago
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last kiss | sam winchester (4)
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pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst
masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | ao3
CHAPTER FOUR: SOMEWHERE IN DETROIT
You sat on Bobby’s porch, sipping on coffee that had more espresso shots than what was healthy. You had all four of the Horsemen’s rings, and all you had to do now was to get Lucifer in Sam’s body. The problem was figuring out where Lucifer would be.
You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the exhaustion that’s been building up in your bones over the past few days. Weeks. Years. If someone asked you how you were doing right now and you had to say the truth, you’d say you felt like you were thrown around like a ragdoll by a bunch of super-powered toddlers. 
The brothers were out in the yard, probably making some tiny repairs to maintain Baby. If you had to guess, they were probably having the Big Conversation about Sam’s plan. Your head hung low, and for the umpteenth time this week, someone joined your little pity party. 
At least they never left you alone.
“How you holdin’ up?” Bobby asked you, taking off his cap as he sat beside you. The wooden boards creaked under the added weight. The older man grunted as he bent his knees to get to your level.
“How’re your knees holding up?” you grinned at your father figure. He shook his head and ruffled your hair. 
“Answer the question, young lady.”
“I’m barely holding up, Bobby,” you tried to joke, only to be met with a serious expression on his face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You don’t get to do that.”
“It’s about Sam, isn’t it?” he questioned softly. 
You took a long, deep breath and set your mug down, “Yes! Yes, it is. It always is. There. You happy?”
“Well, you don’t have to get all snippy with me. We’re all worried about him. I’m just worried about you,” he paused for a moment. “Because everyone knows what you have with him is special.”
Your jaw clenched, feeling a strong urge to just up and leave. No one, especially you, wanted to hear about how their relationship with someone they love was so special, only to be reminded of how they’d lose it all in the span of a week. There was only so much a person could take and as patient as you were, even you had a limit. 
When you didn’t respond, Bobby continued, “If I know anything about love, sweetheart, it’s that losing it could be the worst thing to happen to you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He shot you a look, his way of telling you to let him keep going, “It’s scary. You’ll have everything to lose. Love makes you do crazy, insane things, but you found something not a lot people have. People spend their whole lives looking for this sort of thing, and here you are, what? Sixteen, seventeen years strong?”
“Eighteen.”
He chuckled, “Eighteen. All I’m saying is, I’m sorry that this has to happen. I know you love him, and let me tell you, that boy looks at you like you’re his whole world. Sam was always the soft one. You took care of him in ways John and Dean couldn’t… but it’s time to let him go.”
Hot tears were spilling now, and you wanted to curse Bobby for hitting you with the cold hard truth, even if you knew deep down that you needed to hear it.
“I don’t think I can,” your voice trembled, a vulnerability you rarely showed in all your years of hunting. “I can’t lose him too, Bobby. Not him.”
“Listen to me,” he wiped away your tears. “When all of this is over, you’re the one who’ll be left here. You’re the one who’ll live. If I know anything about Sam, it’s that he’d want you to live your life as best as you can, even if he can’t say it to you straight.”
“Get to the point, Bobby,” you answer tiredly despite the caffeine rushing in your veins.
“Sam won’t be here,” you tried to steel yourself when these words left Bobby’s mouth. “But you will. I’m willing to bet a big part of why he’s so willing to jump in the first place was because he knew you’d be okay. So be okay for him, even if you aren’t.”
You didn’t notice how tight your grip was on the sleeve of your jacket, and you hated yourself just a little bit more in that moment because you felt like a child dealing with feelings she’s never had to face before. You were a hunter, you had to be above this.
Sam would’ve said otherwise. You were always more than that to him: more than a hunter. More than a friend.
You and Bobby eventually went back inside to prepare everything you needed for this final trip, which included gallons of demon blood for Sam to consume. You’d never say it to his face because it’d make him feel worse than he already felt, but it was disgusting. Perhaps you wouldn’t be in this predicament right now if you were a little bit more firm in keeping him away from hunting when Dean was in hell, maybe he would’ve been away from Ruby. With the help of Castiel, the work was finished much quicker.
Sam joined you and Cas in filling up the trunk of the Impala with the jugs while Bobby and Dean talked about Lucifer’s possible whereabouts. The work was silent between the three of you; it wasn’t the best time to discuss what-if’s when Cas was right there but then again, there was never a right time.
Dean came back to get Sam and Cas, after pinpointing where Lucifer was likely to be: Detroit. Sam looked at you one last time, and you felt his gaze on you. When you turned around, you knew then that everything Bobby told you earlier in the day was true. Sam’s arm rested on the car door, taking a moment to just look at you before he went into the Impala and marched right into the Death Star. He did look at you like you were his whole world, and it took your breath away. 
It was, of course, Dean and Bobby that broke you out of your little moment, urging the both of you to hurry up so you could all get going. You hopped into the passenger seat of Bobby’s van so that you could tail the Impala all the way to Detroit.
“Here goes nothing,” you thought.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
“Aw, ain’t he a little angel?” Dean grinned. Cas was sleeping in the backseat, probably beat from all the work they’ve had to do over the past few weeks. The brothers could only imagine what it must’ve been like to spend thousands of years following orders, and then suddenly breaking free from all of it. 
Sam only chuckled, muttering about how angels didn’t really sleep, and the car ride is silent for a while.
“Sam, I gotta bad feeling about this,” the older Winchester admitted.
“Well, you’d be nuts to have a good feeling about it.”
Dean frowned, “You know what I mean. Detroit. He always said he’d jump your bones in Detroit. Here we are.”
“Here we are.”
There was nothing Sam could say that would calm Dean’s worries. Not that anything could, since they were quite literally about to meet the Devil. Instead, the two talked about the possibilities; how Lucifer might’ve known something they didn’t. Sam was quick to point out how he probably did, hoping that at the very least, the fallen archangel didn’t know about the Horsemen’s rings.
Another bout of silence.
Sam shifted in his seat to face Dean, “Hey, um… on the subject, there’s something I gotta talk to you about.”
“What?”
“This thing goes our way and… I Triple Lindy into that box… you know I’m not coming back.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” Dean’s answer was automatic. He barely looked away from the road.
Sam took a more serious tone, “So you gotta promise me something.”
“Okay, yeah. Anything.”
“You gotta promise not to try and bring me back.”
Dean very nearly stopped the car right then and there, “What? No! I didn’t sign up for that. Your hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me to just sit by and do nothing?”
“Once the Cage is shut, you can’t go poking at it, Dean,” Sam stayed firm. “It’s too risky.”
“You can’t ask me to do this,” Dean pleaded with his baby brother. He wasn’t always one for thinking ahead, but he couldn’t fathom not trying to save his brother. 
“I’m sorry, Dean. You have to.”
“So then what am I supposed to do?” Dean pressed. 
“You go find Lisa,” Dean stiffened at the mention of her name, but Sam continued. “You pray to God that she’s dumb enough to take you in and you… you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple pie life, Dean. Promise me.”
“And what about her?”
This time, it was Sam that froze.
“What about her?” Sam’s words had a dangerous edge to them, a stark contrast to the gentleness he exhibited just moments prior.
“Did you give her this whole speech too? Because what is she supposed to do, Sammy? You tell me to go have a normal, apple pie life, but what does she have to come back to when this is all over?”
“She’ll live her life,” Sam answered softly. “She’ll have to.”
“For someone so smart, you’re goddamn stupid, you know that?” Dean grunted. 
“What is there to talk about, Dean? There’s no other way to get rid of Lucifer, and I’m doing this to keep her safe,” Sam tried to defend himself, unable to face the truth that he’d been trying to avoid ever since this plan was formulated all those nights ago.
“She loves you so damn much,” Dean tried to make his brother see the other side of things; how his death will echo through the lives of everyone that cared for him. How it’ll echo through your life. “Even when you’re being a dumbass, she fought tooth and nail to keep you safe. Now you’re asking, not just me, but her, to let you die?”
Sam stayed quiet for a while before answering his brother, “At least she’ll be alive, and that’s all that matters to me.”
The car ride was silent for the last time.
Sam craned his head to look out the window, even if there wasn’t anything particularly interesting to be seen outside. In a few short hours, Lucifer would possess him, and there was just no telling how that would go. He hoped he was strong enough, because once Lucifer got inside his head, he was scared that Lucifer would make it his mission to ruin you just to destroy Sam even further. It would’ve been the most effective way to do so.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. His fear and his anger weren’t gonna help him beat the devil. Sam tried his best, his damn hardest, to go to places in his mind that he cherished. He kept these memories close to his heart. They were sacred.
He remembered being thirteen, and reading lore books with you.
He remembered being seventeen, and dancing to Whitney Houston with you with nothing but a streetlight as your disco ball.
In between all those memories, there were feelings that only ever grew stronger with time. He doesn’t remember if he ever told you, maybe he has. Maybe after a couple of drinks, maybe at his lowest point. 
Still, all Sam knew, and all he needed to know, was that as long as you were alive and breathing, it was worth whatever price he had to pay. He owed you that much.
▼△▼△▼△▼△▼
In Detroit, there was a chill in the air that gave you goosebumps. The guys were unloading the gallon jugs of blood from the car. Bobby confirmed that there were at least two dozen demons inside one of the buildings. This had to be it.
You stayed back, making small talk with Castiel while Sam drank the demon blood in some faraway corner. 
“You are anxious.”
You gave him an amused smile, “That would be the understatement of the century.”
He simply nodded in acknowledgment and placed his hand on your shoulder.
“Sam is strong. He’ll conquer Lucifer.”
“I hope you’re right, Cas.”
Sam and Dean walked back over to your little group. Sam wiped away the remnants of blood that threatened to trickle down his chin. One by one, Sam talked to each of you. It was goodbye. A hug from Bobby, some awkward chatting with Cas. Then, he reached you. The whole world stopped.
“I wish you knew how much I don’t want you to do this,” you looked up at him, your arms were crossed in an attempt to both shield yourself from the cold and from him.
“Believe me, I know,” he sighed, before taking one of your hands into his own and bringing it up to his face. “I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to.”
“I know,” your answer was laced with something that was barely acceptance and more like defeat. 
“I’m sorry,” he squeezed your hand. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”
“It’s okay,” you wrapped your arms around him, letting his warmth and his scent and everything that was his just completely overwhelm you. “I’ll see you soon, won’t I?”
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, hugging you even tighter. It wasn’t often that you saw Sam cry, but you could feel the shakiness of his breath that he tried to hide as he clung onto you.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”
“Hey, don’t get all soft on me now, Sammy,” you joked, rubbing his back as you did so.
“I’m pretty sure I always was.”
It took him a while to pull away, not caring if Dean was waiting for him to catch up. This would be the last time he’d get to hold you like this, and he wanted to savor every second he could get before he was gone. He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, then finally, your lips.
It was everything you both hoped it would be and for a moment, you could ignore the sadness growing inside of you.
The kiss was soft. Tender. You moved in a way only two people whose souls were intertwined forever would. He wasn’t shaking anymore. If anything, this kiss flooded him with an overwhelming sense of clarity.
He had to keep you safe, so he forced himself to walk away from you, even if every fiber of his being told him to say those three little words… but he couldn’t hurt you anymore than he was about to, so he stayed silent.
You watched as the distance between you grew. The kiss lingered on your lips like a ghost. It was the calm before the storm because as soon as Sam was out of your sight, the sorrow pierced through you. This life always left you in pieces, but this was the first time in a long time, that you felt pain like this. It was precise; meant to target where it hurt the most.
Bobby and Cas approached you with solemn looks on their faces; they both knew that there was nothing they could say that would ease the pain you were feeling. You wanted to share your grief with them, you really did, in hopes that you wouldn’t be crushed by the weight of it.
But you couldn’t. Just like what Bobby said: what you had with Sam was special, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime kind of connection, and that meant your grief was a cross only you could bear. No one else could possibly hope to understand what it was like.
After about twenty minutes, a white flash of light erupted from the windows of the building where Sam was and you knew that the worst had come to pass. Lucifer was inside of him. Without thinking, you ran inside the building with nothing but the pistol you had strapped to your leg and a dagger tucked under your belt. You ignored the cold fear that seeped into your bones, no matter how much it tried to weaken your resolve. You ignored the shouts of Bobby and Cas from behind you, telling you to stop.
You thought of Sam, now possessed by Lucifer and no doubt revelling in taunting Dean.
Dean. He was still inside, and if he was still alive, you owed it to him to try and get him out of there.
As you made your way up the building, bodies were strewn about. Blood was spilled on the floor and splattered on the walls. You grit your teeth, and tightened the grip on your gun. Finally, you reached the fourth floor. A blast of cold air hit your face and standing in the middle of the room was Sam. Dean was backed up against a wall.
“Ah, you’re just in time,” Sam— no, Lucifer, exclaimed. “I was wondering when Sammy’s little girlfriend would come in to save the day. I didn’t see you before. You know, when these two tried to kill me with the Colt? It was so sad. For them, I mean. But let me tell you, you do not disappoint, honey. Prettier in person if I do say so myself.”
“Get the hell away from her!” Dean yelled, trying his best to fight against the force of Lucifer’s power.
“No, I don’t think so,” Lucifer cocked his head mockingly at Dean. He approached you, smirking when he noticed you were too terrified and confused to even take a step back. “Little Sammy certainly had taste. You’re just exquisite, aren’t you? I think… I’ll keep you.”
He brushed his fingers against your hair, taking a big whiff of your scent in an overdramatic and freakish show of dominance. He knew you wouldn’t and couldn’t do anything, not as long as he was wearing Sam’s face.
Humans were so simple.
“Well,” he turned to face Dean one last time with a malicious smile. “Bye-bye, big brother.”
With a snap of his fingers, both you and Lucifer were gone in a cloud of black smoke. Dean was all alone.
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eleanor-bradstreet · 2 years ago
Text
A Brother's Love: Education
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Characters: Benedict Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton Rated: G Word count: 1.7k Masterpost
Summary: Benedict has some lessons for Eloise.
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“Eloise, stop! You are ruining it!” Daphne’s voice carried across the drawing room. Benedict looked over to where his three younger sisters sat on the sofas, practicing their embroidery. Daphne was teaching little Francesca, and Eloise sat alone across from them. Benedict couldn’t quite see what was going on, but he did see Eloise continue to move her arms in a very deliberate and decidedly indelicate way.
“Stop it!” Daphne snapped again, marching over to her younger sister. Benedict had seen enough rows begin this way and he didn’t have the energy to deal with another. Rolling his eyes, he got to his feet and walked over.
“What’s going on?” He sighed when he reached them, putting his hands on his hips.
“She’s tearing apart the fabric!” Daphne huffed. Indeed, rather than using her embroidery needle for its intended purpose, Eloise had been using it to separate the fibers of the linen she was supposed to be beautifying. Inches of the fabric hung in loose tatters and a pile of shredded threads was forming on the sofa.
Eloise scowled up at all of them, locked eyes with her older sister and defiantly ripped a new tear with the needle.
“Give me that!” Daphne hissed, and snatched the cloth out of Eloise’s hands.
“Alright, calm down,” Benedict shot warning looks at them both, and Daphne lowered her eyes. Eloise, true to form, stuck her chin in the air and glared at him.
“What’s got you so upset?” He asked.
“I hate embroidery.” The little girl growled, balling her fists.
“She’s cross because she wants to go shooting with you all today, and I told her she must do a more appropriate activity.” Daphne interjected, staring down at her sister as she emphasized her words. 
Benedict raised his eyebrows, chuckling. “Eloise,” he tried to keep from sounding too condescending. “Daphne is right. I’m afraid you cannot go shooting with us.” ‘Us’ was the three eldest brothers, who were having targets set up to practice their marksmanship.
Eloise pouted, “But Colin is going and he is a child!”
“Colin is in double digits.” Benedict reminded her.
“No, it’s because he’s a boy and I’m not.” She huffed, crossing her arms.
“Well, whatever the reason, you’re not going.” Daphne snipped.
Eloise grumbled and sank herself deeper into the sofa, dejected.
“Don’t worry,” Benedict smirked. “I promise we won’t have any fun without you.” 
Eloise shot him a deadly glare.
“In the meantime, you could do the next best thing and embroider a picture of a gun.” When Daphne gasped in horror, he grinned with glee, mussed Eloise’s hair and traipsed out of the room.
---
All through the evening and next day, Eloise was sullen. Benedict and Colin almost matched her in their gloom, as Anthony boasted endlessly about his success at shooting. It did seem patently unfair for him to gloat when he had been practicing the longest, but it was so rare these days to see him happy about something, that his younger brothers said nothing and let him go on ribbing them.
After Eloise had spent an entire luncheon looking down bitterly and refusing to eat, Benedict came up with a plan to lift both their spirits. He notified everyone that he was taking his sister on a walk through the grounds, filled a satchel, and set off with Eloise towards the nearest trees. Once in the forest, he led the girl to a low stone wall, then watched her eyes light up in surprise as he produced from the satchel a small slingshot and a few wooden pegs from the house’s lawn bowling set. 
Much to his mother’s chagrin, his father had carved the slingshot himself a decade ago, and had used it to playfully lob balls of paper at him at Anthony when they were caught sneaking into his study, or if he were just feeling mischievous. As they had grown older it fell out of use, but Benedict had been sure to snatch it for himself before any of his siblings discovered it. He hadn’t touched it in years, but thought it would be a reasonably safe alternative for a seven year old who wanted to engage in target practice.
Eloise was exuberant as he handed it to her. He had also brought a small cap, one that Colin had outgrown, to tuck back her short hair. Together, they gathered stones from the forest floor and lined up the pegs on the wall. Benedict had barely finished trying to instruct her on stance and aim, when she let the first stone fly, hitting a peg square in the center, knocking it down. She squealed and jumped with delight and he congratulated her, but suspected beginner’s luck. Then she knocked down a second peg, then a third one.
Benedict gaped. “Remind me never to give you a pistol,” he murmured. 
But she didn’t hear him, as she was crowing over her victory. More than an hour passed, with Benedict replacing the pegs and Eloise toppling them off the wall with one cracking shot after another, rarely missing. More than once, she pelted him with a stone, claiming each time that it was an accident, and then giggling furiously. Her glee was so infectious that he couldn’t be mad at her, though he did knock her elbow to send her aim flying wide a few times, as punishment. When she finally started to complain of a sore arm, they packed up the supplies and began the walk back to the house, Eloise marching through the grass with her nose held high.
As they passed through the flowers of the back lawn, she spoke softly.
“Ben, I’m going to miss you.”
He looked down at her, but just saw the top of her little cap as she stared straight ahead.
“Why would you miss me?”
“Because you are going off to university.” She said matter-of-factly. “Who will take me out shooting?”
They had reached the back stairs to the house and he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Please don’t tell anyone we went shooting,” he warned. Leave it to Eloise to go bursting into the house with misleading tales, making everyone believe he had handed a gun to a child. “I will take you to practice with your slingshot whenever I am home on holiday.” 
She began to stomp up the stairs, huffing. “It’s not fair! You’re going to read books and learn all kinds of clever things and all I get to learn is table manners and embroidery.”
When they reached the top landing, Benedict sighed and knelt to face her.
“Well, I will write to you and tell you all the clever things I am learning, so then you can know them too. How is that?” He wasn’t sure if he fully intended to keep such a promise, or was just trying to pacify her, but it did make her pause.
A hesitant smile crept across her face. “I suppose…”
He took her hands and gave them an encouraging squeeze. “Will you write me back?” She stayed silent, her eyes growing nervous.  “You’ve been studying your letters, yes?”
“Yes.” She said shyly.
“Very well then.” Benedict smiled, then led her into the house and down the hall to the study. If she was striving to be educated in some way akin to university, she would need to start somewhere, and proper penmanship was a foundational skill. He pulled the chair out from Anthony’s desk and patted it, coaxing Eloise to hop up and sit. She was jittery with excitement while he set up a blank page, pen and ink before her.
“Now,” he leaned over the back of the chair, “let’s see you write your name.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Eloise lifted the pen, dipped it in the inkpot (rather too far) and then, tongue sticking out with concentration, she began to carve large, deliberate letters. Benedict read them out as she progressed. “E…L…O…excellent.” Large and ink-blotched as it may have been, he noted that her script was elegant. She clearly had been applying herself in her studies. He continued, “Now my name. B…E…N…” Eloise sped onward before he could finish, and smiled up at him merrily when she had written his name. He didn’t have the heart to point out that she had missed the ‘I’. He grinned back at her. “Good enough. See? We can correspond and you will hear from me all the time.”
Eloise’s smile faded as her brow began to furrow again. “You’ll still come back smarter than me.”
Benedict closed his eyes for a moment. His second sister possessed an incomparable talent for argument. It was indeed unfair that she could not attend university, because he suspected that she would make a superb barrister. “El, I should be smarter than you, I’m much older than you.”
She began to pout and her voice grew soft with genuine hurt. “But I can’t go to university, so I will never be smart too.”
Benedict placed a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not true. Maybe you won’t go to university, but look…” He spread his arm wide, gesturing to the library surrounding them on every wall. “You have all of these books. All of them. They were Father’s and now they belong to all of us.” 
Eloise’s eyes began to glitter as she looked around the room. If she had ever been in the study prior to now, it was before she could read, and she likely had no idea of the wealth of knowledge that she had access to. Benedict was glad he had thought to explain it to her, to give her a place not just for self-improvement, but for escape from the lessons and feminine tedium that she so despised. He walked to a shelf and pulled out a well-loved copy of Beowulf, handing it to her with a warm smile.
“If you ever get tired of reading whatever the governess gives you, you can come in here and read any of these. He would have wanted you to. Just be gentle with them.”
Eloise beamed, cradling the book in her arms as if it were her most prized possession, then looked up at him suddenly. “What if Anthony locks the door?”
Benedict smirked. His little sister was terribly clever, and he knew that, against his better judgment, he was about to make her more so. Assuming she had a hairpin, it was time for one more lesson.
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Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @heeyyyou @faye-tale @hopepaigeturner
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