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santaasi · 4 months ago

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hazel & honey

pairing: james potter x shy!reader

summary: in a café where coffee meets quiet longing, a year of stolen glances and ink-scrawled notes brews into something more — until james potter finally decides to take his shot.

warnings: just pure fluff, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 2.5k

a/n: it's kinda a part two of raison d'être but you don't need to read it if you don't want to.

ᯓ★ now playing…

zayn - there you are

SPRING ARRIVES NOT ALL AT ONCE BUT IN WHISPERS — SLOWLY, GENTLY, YET UNDENIABLY.

The coffee shop mirrors the change. Heavy coats and thick woolen scarves have vanished, replaced by light jackets, bare wrists, and the crisp air slipping through open windows. The scent of cinnamon and spiced tea fades into something fresher — lavender, citrus, and the delicate sweetness of flowers blooming just beyond the door, carried in by the breeze.

And James Potter, of course, remains the one constant.

James Potter has become a part of your routine, a familiar presence threaded through your days like the changing seasons, turning the ordinary into something bright, something electric. Something that makes your heart stutter in ways you wish it wouldn’t.

It’s been a year now. A year of stolen glances over the espresso machine, of ridiculous drink experiments, of moments tucked between steaming cups and shared laughter. A year of James leaning across the counter, all bright-eyed and insufferably charming, turning the simplest exchange — How’s your day been? — into something that lingers longer than it should.

There was the time he nearly knocked over a display case trying to reenact a new play move with a ball for you. The day he walked in soaked to the bone, dripping rain onto the floor, grinning as you handed him a steaming cup without a word. The evening he showed up five minutes before closing, breathless, just to tell you he had an excellent idea for a new drink (it was, to no one’s surprise, absolutely terrible).

Somewhere between all those moments, without meaning to, he became something to you. And you don’t know what to do with that.

Even now, even after a year, you’re still shy around him in ways you can’t quite help. Still caught off guard by the way he looks at you sometimes, still too quick to drop your gaze when his fingers brush against yours, still hesitant when his laughter sends warmth curling through your ribs.

THIS MORNING, HE STUMBLES INTO THE CAFÉ LOOKING AS IF HE BARELY SURVIVED THE NIGHT. His glasses are askew, his hair a complete mess — more unruly than usual, which is saying something. His hoodie is slouching off one shoulder, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and when he reaches the counter, he doesn’t so much stand as he does slump against it.

"Hit me with your best shot, love," he sighs.

You blink, momentarily caught up in the sight of him — tired, disheveled, undeniably James. Then, with practiced ease, you reach for the espresso beans. "That bad?"

He groans, rubbing a hand over his face. "I woke up late. Nearly missed the assignment deadline. Almost got run over by a cyclist. And Sirius won’t stop texting me in all caps about something, but I refuse to open it. At this point, my only remaining tragedy is falling into the Thames."

You laugh softly, the sound curling like steam in the air. "Devastating. But at least you made it here." A pause, a flicker of something fond curling in your chest. "Which means I get to experiment."

Because, somehow, that has become your thing.

It started months ago — one late evening, when James had wandered in, restless and curious, and told you to surprise him. You had. And then you did it again. And again. And now, it’s a ritual. No repeats, no hints. Just pure trust in whatever concoction you place in front of him.

He rates each one on a ten-point scale (so far, his highest is an 11/10 for a caramel-vanilla macchiato, which you swore was nothing special), and every single time, he leaves a receipt scrawled with some ridiculous note.

"You’re a caffeine genius."

"I would die for this drink."

"Marry me?" — that one had been a joke. Probably.

He doesn’t know you keep them. All of them. Pressed carefully in a box beneath your bed, where his words — his messy, absurd, wonderful words — are yours alone to hold.

And maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind that James Potter keeps showing up. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind at all.

Today's drink — a honey-lavender latte — is something soft, something delicate, something meant to dispel the thundercloud hovering over James Potter’s head. The scent of warm milk and golden honey mingles with the floral whisper of lavender, wrapping the moment in something almost tender. You slide the cup across the counter, watching as his fingers curl around the warmth.

James takes a sip, his lashes fluttering shut as he exhales a slow, blissful sigh. For a moment, the weight of his sleepless night, the stress of looming deadlines, and whatever catastrophe Sirius is surely texting about — all of it seems to melt away.

"I have ascended," he murmurs.

You snort. "That good, huh?"

He nods solemnly. "Sweetheart, if I fail this semester, I want you to know — it’s entirely your fault."

"Oh?" You arch a brow, already moving to wipe down the counter.

"Absolutely. I can't concentrate when I'm too busy thinking about your drinks."

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. "Right. Not because of poor time management?"

"Not at all." His tone is unwavering, as if this is a hill he’s willing to die on.

You shake your head and turn to the next customer, but James doesn’t move. He lingers, fingers tapping absently against the countertop, the rhythmic sound cutting through the soft hum of the café. When you finally glance back up, he's looking at you.

And not just looking.

It’s that expression — the one that makes your stomach flip, the one that sends warmth curling up your spine like steam from an untouched cup. That gaze, dark and steady, laced with something dangerous. Something unreadable.

Something that makes your heart pound far faster than it should.

Damn James Potter.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the register. "What?" you ask, trying to sound unimpressed, ignoring the way your pulse betrays you.

He only smiles, slow and knowing. "Nothing," he says lightly. "Just waiting for my receipt."

Your lips twitch despite yourself. Biting back a blush, you tear the slip of paper from the machine and hand it over, along with the pen. He takes his time, scrawling something with that familiar lazy confidence before sliding it back across the counter.

You glance down.

"9.5/10. But still not as sweet as you."

Heat rushes to your cheeks, so fast and so overwhelming that you don’t even try to fight it. A smile tugs at your lips, helpless, inevitable.

James winks.

And then he’s gone, the bell above the door chiming softly in his wake, the scent of honey and lavender lingering behind him like a secret.

AND SO IT GOES, DAY AFTER DAY.

James keeps showing up — sometimes sleep-rumpled, his glasses slipping down his nose as he yawns into his hoodie, sometimes fresh from a workout, windblown and flushed, damp curls clinging to his forehead. He drapes a windbreaker over his shoulders like a careless afterthought, all easy grins and warm eyes, always irritatingly, effortlessly charming.

And you?

You keep making him new drinks. Coconut cold brew on the first truly warm afternoon of spring, strawberry matcha latte when the scent of fresh berries lingers in the air, cappuccino with sweet maple cream on a drizzly morning when the world feels a little too gray. Each one is a surprise, a silent challenge, a reason to watch the way his face lights up with the first sip.

And James — James keeps leaving you notes.

"10/10. I’m thinking about changing my major to yours, just to see you more often." "9/10. Would’ve been a 10, but you didn’t smile at me enough today." "11/10. Maybe I’m in love. Who can tell?"

Marlene loses her mind every time she sees them. She waves them in your face, eyes wide with exasperation. "This is flirting," she huffs. "He’s flirting with you. You see that, right?"

Of course you see.

And worse — you feel it.

In the way your pulse trips over itself whenever his fingers brush against yours as he takes his drink. In the way your body gives you away before your mind can stop it, warmth pooling low in your stomach, a restless kind of anticipation curling in your chest.

But it’s James Potter.

James, who flirts with everyone. Who can make anyone feel like they’re the only person in the room.

So you tuck it away, tell yourself it’s nothing, tell yourself he’s just a regular customer. A boy with an easy smile and a penchant for ridiculous notes, who leaves you generous tips and lifts your mood on long shifts.

Nothing more than that.

And certainly nothing that should set your heart racing the way it does.

IT’S LATE, THE CAFÉ WINDING DOWN INTO THE KIND OF QUIET THAT FEELS ALMOST SACRED. The last traces of coffee and warm pastries linger in the air, mingling with something softer—the scent of wildflowers cradled in your hands, delicate and trembling.

You’re just about to lock up when the bell above the door chimes.

James Potter steps inside.

And, oh.

He looks different tonight. Too different. Not the usual whirlwind of hoodies and windblown curls, not the usual sleep-rumpled charm that makes you roll your eyes but secretly warms your chest. No — this James is something else entirely. His hoodie is gone, replaced by a loose button-down, the sleeves rolled up in a way that does unfair things to his forearms. The soft light catches in his hair, bringing out hints of copper, and his shirt stretches over his shoulders just right.

You grip the cloth in your hands a little tighter, pulse stuttering as you immediately drop your gaze to the counter, pretending to be far too occupied with wiping away an invisible stain.

It doesn’t help.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greets, slipping into his usual seat at the counter, voice warm, rich — like the first sip of coffee on a slow morning.

Your fingers twitch around the cloth. Your throat feels inexplicably dry.

“You’re here late,” you manage, setting the rag aside and washing your hands, focusing very intently on the way the water runs over your skin. Anything to avoid looking at him for too long.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Urgent matters. But now I’m here, and– ” A pause. A breath. And then, a smile, slower than usual, softer. “I needed my daily dose of that magic you put in your drinks.”

You swallow, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. He always says things like this, always flirts so effortlessly, and yet it still gets to you every single time. It’s unfair.

You shake your head, trying to school your expression into something unimpressed, something unaffected, already reaching for the coffee machine when–

James catches your wrist.

Oh.

Your breath snags.

His hand is warm. Big. The kind of warm that seeps into your skin, lingers in your bones. His fingers graze over your palm with something almost absentminded, a slow, lazy touch, but your body reacts like it’s something more — like it means something.

Your heart trips over itself.

You’re suddenly hyperaware of everything — the quiet hum of the café, the way his thumb barely brushes your wrist, the way your knees feel a little unsteady. You blink at him, wide-eyed, trying desperately to ignore the heat creeping up your neck.

James doesn’t let go.

He’s still smirking, of course he’s still smirking, but–

But there’s something else there, something just a little hesitant, a little nervous. And that does something to you, something warm and uncertain and dangerous.

You open your mouth, not entirely sure what you’re about to say, only to close it again when you realize your voice might betray you.

James tilts his head slightly, his grip just a fraction tighter. His smirk deepens, but his eyes are unbearably gentle.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Breathe, sweetheart.”

And, well — you’re trying.

You really are.

"Actually," James says, voice unusually careful, "I didn’t come for coffee today."

You blink. "No?"

He shakes his head, then — hesitates.

And that’s new.

James Potter doesn’t hesitate. He’s all easy grins and reckless confidence, the kind of person who leaps before looking, who never second-guesses himself. But now — now his fingers twitch slightly where they’re still wrapped around yours, his gaze dropping to the point of contact. He takes a breath, deep and steady, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

"I was wondering," he begins, adjusting his glasses, "if you'd like to… I don’t know. Maybe we could go have a coffee somewhere else. With me. Like… on a date."

There’s a short circuit in your brain.

A date.

You must be dreaming. That’s the only explanation. Why would James Potter — James Potter — ask you out? You’re just the barista who makes his coffee, the girl behind the counter. Sure, there’s been harmless flirting, an entire year of ridiculous notes and lingering glances, but this?

James watches your expression shift, and something fond flickers across his face. He leans forward slightly, as if letting you in on some great secret.

"Yeah, you know," he teases. "A date. It’s when two people meet and do something romantic, and ideally– " his smirk deepens, " –one of them kisses the other at the end."

Heat flares up your neck. "James."

His grin is positively wicked. "Yes, my love?"

And, oh — he knows.

He already knows your answer, sees it written across your face in the way your fingers curl slightly against his, in the way your breath hitches, in the way you haven’t let go.

The air between you is thick with something golden, something trembling on the edge of possibility. Outside, the sky is painted in soft pastels, the scent of fresh flowers drifting in through the open door. Everything feels warm and new, like the first breath of summer. Or maybe — maybe — it’s just him.

Still, you keep him waiting. Just for a second.

"Only if you choose the coffee this time," you say, tilting your chin up slightly, feigning nonchalance even as your pulse pounds in your ears.

James’ answering smile is dazzling. He squeezes your hand, eyes shining with something you can’t name yet — but, oh, you want to.

"Agreed."

The golden light floods the café, the smell of coffee and wildflowers wrapping around you both like a promise. And when you look at James Potter, grinning like an idiot, you realize–

There is no maybe anymore.

Now, everything is for sure.

And you’re definitely glad you switched shifts with Marlene that day a year back.

thankx for reading <з

it was the most spontaneous decision to write a part two for raison d'être, but i went to this café with my friend and just couldn't stop thinking about james and barista!reader. so here we are.

you’re always welcome to share your thoughts in the comments or my inbox :3

– your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic

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blushingbubbles · 6 months ago

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Fantasy: You have an in-person freeuse toy day with all of your followers invited

(exempt from forbidden-words rule)

if i had an in-person free use toy day, id have to rent an entertainment venue 🫠 but let's pretend that hypothetically everyone can fit into a very very large airbnb.

it's ten minutes before the front door opens for the first time. The squeaking hinges hesitate for a moment. Whoever's on the stoop didn't actually think it would be unlocked.

I'd gotten sooo many messages in the days before -- promises of what was to come, yes. But also concern that this was some large-scale practical joke.

but the first one enters. he's wearing heavy boots. behind him, another crosses the threshold. 11 minutes since i posted the address. the idea was that rather have a specific start time, i'd post the address when i was ready. until 12 minutes ago, the only thing anyone had was the city and the date.

anyone who'd gotten an invite had been vetted. everything had been planned and purchased and positioned. water in every room. alcohol in the fridge. toys lined up across the kitchen island.

the two men greet one another, and my heart beats sooo loudly. my throat dries up and i peek my head around the corner.

when they see me they pause, they both kinda tilt their head at me -- like how every dominant does when they're surprised? subs know what i mean.

they ask me how im doing and another comes in the now-open door. no reason to close it now... at their suggestion, i give them a tour of the airbnb. the bedrooms and bathrooms and backyard and pool. as we walk, hands begin brushing me. my tits, my waist, my hair. they praise me on how ive become such a good internet slut in the last months. they tell me about how many times id gotten them off -- what pictures of me they like the most. what tasks i performed for them (some of which i remember, but most of which i don't -- it's not my place to remember it's my place to obey)

it's not long before my shirt ends up on the floor. im not even really sure why i wore one. they're not sure either. they laugh at me for it, and i laugh too because they're right. it was silly of me, dressing for tonight. im still nervous until one of them tells me to kneel.

i feel much better like this. on the ground looking up at them. more enter, but im not counting how many surround me now. the newcomers are pointed in the direction of the alcohol while the others begin unbuckling their pants. and the nerves still exist -- the excitement still flutters -- until i put the first cock in my mouth

the second it passes my lips and thick fingers thread through my hair, i feel myself release every anxiety and nerve about the night. a night that i knew would stretch into the weekend.

as im sucking, more hands grope my tits and ass. someone binds my hands. another person clamps my nipples. the gasp of pain i make causes the grip on my hair to tighten. i lose track of time, but he spills down my throat. before i have a chance to close my jaw, another takes his place.

over the day, im fucked in every position i can thinkof (and some positions i cant). videos are taken from every angle. as agreed beforehand, im given a break every hour to confirm im still of sound consenting mind. im given water and snacks and more gropes for at least five minutes. sometimes i need more time, but mostly i hardly make it to 3 before im desperate to serve again. whenever others need a break, they play in the pool or watch tv or watch me. but im used all. day. long.

eventually, it's time for the agreed-upon bedtime. im flooded with aftercare until im all blushy and soft. someone helps by washing the sweat and mess off me. im sent to bed with food, company, and enough gummies to take out a horse. i take them greedily, knowing that that night, others will touch and breed my holes while i sleep.

i wake up soooo full of cum that i want to plug myself to keep it all inside. instead, im cleaned again. used again. that next day, the ones who stayed will stream the videos they took to the tv. they'll edge me to my own porn and make me count how many times i helped others get off. if i get the count wrong or hesitate they'll start all over. they'll coo about how much of a good slut i was, letting them use me like this.

by monday, every video will be posted online. when i get home, i'll edge to every one of them, taking note of how everyone else's face is blurred, everyone else's privacy protected, except for my own 😇

in a writing mood today :) send me ur fantasies of making me a freeuse toy and ill expand on them :)))

#free use cnc #cnc free use #cnc somno #cnc s0mno #attention wh0r3 #needy slvt #needy wh0re #dumb slvt #dumb wh0re #@nal slvt #pain slvt #use me like a fleshlight #human fleshlight #g@ngb@ng #g@ngbang #wr!ting

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gaymaramada · 2 months ago

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Rise! Boys x Reader who has lost a loved one.

NOTE: This is entirely self-indulgent; my father unexpectedly passed yesterday and this is how I’m coping. A lot of this is based on my own experience and some of the dialogue is taken directly from me and my girlfriend, who was there for me as soon as I called her.

CW: death and grieving

Leonardo

It’s about two seconds after you send the text “please come over” that the room starts to smell of ozone and a bright blue portal cuts through the air. It takes less than half that time for Leo to step through, see your tear-stained face, and swiftly cross the room to gather you into his arms.

“Hey, hey, babe, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

His gentleness nearly sets you off again, and it takes a few tries for you to choke out the news. He freezes when he hears it, his breath hitching, before his hug morphs into a fully fledged embrace as he pulls you to his plastron.

He doesn’t say anything as he lets you cry yourself out, just holds you firmly with his chin on your head as he rubs slow circles into your back. You can feel him breathing with practiced control, like he’s silently guiding you to follow.

When you’ve cried yourself out (for now), he carefully pulls back enough to meet your eyes. His expression aches with empathy and understanding, his eyes shiny and his mouth locked in a straight line like he’s fighting the long-assimilated instinct to smile and tell you it’ll all be okay.

Instead, he places his cool hands over your heated face, thumbing away a few stray tears, and asks, “Have you had something to eat?”

Leo is the quietest you’ve ever seen him as he fetches you some water and a snack, but it’s not unnerving. His eyes speak volumes; they hardly leave you unless he’s in another room, and they look about as soft and tender as you feel.

He sits with you and cuddles you to his side. He lets you take the reins on whether or not you want to talk about it. Rather than asking about what happened, he instead tells stories about his father, who had also recently passed.

“When I was, like, seven or eight, pops helped me and Raph build a lemonade stand in the lair. Raph was crushing the lemons in this big bucket, so it probably tasted more like feet than lemonade, but dad would drink it anyways. He even paid for it, too; that twenty-five cents he popped in our little jar made us feel like billionaires.”

He rambles on with stories, funny and wholesome and sad alike, and you tell some of your own. You still choke on your voice whenever your loved one’s name comes up, but Leo is relentlessly patient. Eventually, other subjects come up, and you find yourself having a more normal conversation.

Leo stays with you for the rest of the day, encouraging you to participate in a few activities. You watch movies, play games, and when you find yourself overwhelmed with grief again, he is right there by your side. He does everything in his power to keep the fragile flame of hope in your heart from being snuffed out, whether it be through a brief conversation or simply with his presence.

Donatello

When Donnie answers his phone to the sound of you crying, he’s shooting up from his chair so fast that it topples to the floor loudly.

“What happened? Are you in danger? Are you injured? If so, tell me your pain on a scale of one to ten, one being the least amount of pain and ten being the maximum amount. What’s your location? Let me see if I can—”

You have to cut him off to break the news; he’s eerily silent for a long moment before you hear him utter a soft “… oh.”

He abruptly hangs up on you, but you don’t have long to be upset about that because he’s at your window within half the time it usually takes for him to get to your place, visible heat waves rippling off of his flight shell.

You’ve cried about as much as you’re able by the time he arrives, so he finds you lying in bed with a half-empty box of tissues and an overflowing trash can at your side. Your head is pounding and part of you just wants to be left alone to your grief.

Donnie won’t allow that. He pulls a cold water bottle from his battle shell and brings it to you, rifling through it some more while you open it. “Here. Crying dehydrates you. I’ve brought some light snacks in case you haven’t eaten and my hoodie that you love to steal. I also have ibuprofen, a heating pad, a cooling pad, and a few comfort movies that we could watch if you’d like. I have also contacted your work and informed them that you will be unavailable for the remainder of the week. Extended time off is doable as well.”

Donnie hates to see you cry. It makes his chest hurt and he feels utterly useless. His gut tells him to try to make you stop crying; people cry when they’re upset, so all he has to do is make you not upset. But his internal Dr. Feelings advises against that, telling him that stopping the pain isn’t the goal, but instead helping you weather through it.

He encourages you to stay hydrated, coaxing you to eat a little as well. He even has a timer that goes off routinely for some minor physical activity like stretching, all the while listing off the physical, mental, and emotional benefits of exercise of any kind.

He is at your beck and call 24/7. You need something to eat? He has an array of your favorites laid out like a buffet. You want a distraction? He’s got Studio Ghibli, Jupiter Jim, and even some absurdly bad Hallmark Christmas films. You just need to cry? He is there with a box of tissues and a weighted blanket.

Raphael

Raph is out on patrol when he gets the call from you. You can hear the pleasant exhaustion in his voice as he catches his breath from a recent tussle with some baddies. “Hey, sugar! What’s up?”

When you meet his enthusiasm with choked whimpers, his tone goes soft and gentle in an instant. “Hey, whoa, what’s wrong? You okay?”

You hear a sharp gasp when you break the news, then the distant sound of voices in the background asking questions, before Raph croaks, “I’ll be right over.”

Raph practically busts through your window, eyes wide with worry when he finds you curled up on the floor. The sight of him sets you off again, and he scoops you up into his arms like a frightened kitten, murmuring reassurances and kissing your head.

He’s a sympathetic crier; you cry, he cries. He tries to keep it together for you, to be the rock that you need, but he can’t help the way his breath hitches as a few tears leak out. He has to abandon the voiced assurances after a moment, no longer confident that it won’t crack and wobble when he speaks.

Raph will sit with you until you’re too exhausted to keep crying, and he’ll stay right by you when the next wave of grief hits. He presses your head to his plastron, and you can feel a faint rumbling beneath your temple; it’s an old turtle trick that he learned after years of comforting distressed little brothers, and even though you can’t hear the low chirps quite like they can, the gesture is touching.

Raph will ask a lot of questions: can he do anything for you? Do you need anything? Would you like him to let go or keep holding you? Whatever you want, Raph’ll handle it.

He holds you together when you fracture, keeping you close and making sure you know that he’s there, that he’s got you, that he loves you, and that you are not alone.

Michelangelo

Mikey facetimes you regularly, so he isn’t surprised to get a call from you. What does surprise him is the way you’re weeping on the other end, and he drops everything he’s doing.

His loud gasp when you tell him what happened would be comical in a less solemn situation. He’s already tearing up, stuttering through his words as he tries to wrap his head around it. “I-I don’t— what even—? A-are they— are you—? Ohmigosh, honey—“

He tells you he’s coming over, frantically rummaging around the lair for anything you may need and nearly dropping the phone multiple times in the process. He stays on with you all the way until he’s at your windowsill. The moment you let him in, he’s wrapped completely around you.

Mikey will hug the daylights out of you for hours if he can, mumbling his condolences in your ear as he runs his hands up and down your back. He’ll let you cry as much as you need, only stopping you if your breathing gets too frantic; if that happens, he’ll guide you through a few breathing exercises.

If you want to talk about it, he’ll ask several questions about them; what’s your happiest memory with them? Did you have any inside jokes? What kinds of quirks did they have? He wants to help you recall as many happy memories as you can.

If you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll spill his own thoughts to you. “I wish these kinds of things didn’t happen. It’s just not fair. And I know there’s nothing I can do to make it better for you, but I still wanna try. I promise that I got you, and my whole family’s got you, too. We love you. I love you.”

Mikey encourages you to watch funny animals or soothing ASMR videos to keep you afloat. He becomes your personal teddy bear, letting you cling to him and cry to him to your heart’s content. If you cry yourself to exhaustion, he is 100% gonna make you take a nap with him. Then he’ll bake you some cookies when you wake, savoring a tiny sample of the dough as he fully intends to let you have the whole batch to yourself.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #hamato leonardo #hamato raphael #hamato donatello #hamato michelangelo #rottmnt x reader #rise x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donatello x reader #michelangelo x reader #cw death #cw family death #rottmnt imagines #rottmnt headcanons

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all-about-kyu · 2 years ago

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Summary: You decided to surprise San at the office, and things get a bit… out of hand… Pairing: Dragon!San x fem bunny hybrid!reader Tropes: hybrid au, poly au (background) Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, pet names, reader has blue eyes due to being a bunny, magic usage Smut Warnings: kissing, oral (f receive), psuedo exhibitionism, possessiveness Word Count: 2,527 Note: Happy (very late) birthday, Topaz @sanjoongie! I hope you enjoy!!

Cotton Tails and Simmering Fires Masterlist

Before You Interact

“Where are you off to?” A rather nosy pink-eyed dragon asks.

“Well,” you start, “I know Sannie’s been stressed with this merger he’s working on… I was gonna go to the office to surprise him.”

Although you’re not particularly close with Wooyoung, he’s been nothing but welcoming and kind. That only shows more when he flashes a bright smile at you, his sharp fangs showing as he does so. The bar through his eyebrow glints in the kitchen lighting as his eyebrows scrunch slightly with the intensity of his smile.

“Well, I’m finishing up some lunch, and if you want, I can pack some up so you can take it to him. It’s nothing special, just a bulgogi bowl, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” the white-scaled dragon offers, “I can pack some rice and veggies for you, too. If you’d like that!”

You smile at him, ears perked up on top of your head. “I’d really like that, actually, thank you.”

Wooyoung nods at you and immediately starts preparing two boxes to transport the food in. As you wait, you look at the purple-haired man in more detail than normal. Not in any way other than to observe him. He practically lives in his dance studio, so to see him now, you know you should keep a visual log of him. A tattoo of lightning strikes stands out against the skin of his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his slightly too big long-sleeve shirt as he meticulously packs the food he offered earlier. You stay silent as he does so. The silence isn’t awkward, though. With some of the Thunder, you do feel a bit of tension. With Wooyoung, though, you’ve never felt uneasy. When he hands you a small bag with the containers, he offers you another smile with a giggle laced into it.

“Have fun on your adventures! I’ll tell your other boyfriends where you’re off to in case they ask.”

You shake your head, “Jongho is with a client, Yeosang is dead asleep after trying to pull an all-nighter, and Seonghwa is booked solid. I doubt any of them will be looking for me any time soon. I appreciate the offer, though. Bye, Woo!”

And with that, you’re out the door and heading toward San’s office. It’s much too far to walk, and although your boyfriends never let you drive, you can do so. The drive isn’t horrible… until you get into the heart of the city where San’s company is housed. Among the concrete jungle, his starkly black glass skyscraper stands out. The traffic around the area leaves much to be desired. Sitting in the same spot, not even 500 feet from the entrance to the parking garage below the building, for nearly ten minutes is a form of torture you’d never wish upon anyone. Once you get to the entrance of the garage, the security simply sees the car and then your face and lets you pass. With how often you’ve shown up (typically accompanying San), the most important staff members know who you are.

While the ride up to San’s top-floor office is long, you find yourself more excited with each floor you pass. Your tail wiggles beneath the length of your cardigan as a way to expel some of that excited energy. A few of the chairmen say hello to you in passing once you do exit the elevator. It seems that San must’ve just gotten out of a meeting with a few of them based on how many you saw. Then, stopping outside his office in front of his secretary’s desk, you lean forward toward the deer hybrid. With one elbow on top of the ledge, you rest your chin on your palm.

“Hey, you.” You call playfully.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were coming today! If I had known-”

“Somin, calm down,” you giggle, “I didn’t tell you or San I was coming. I’m surprising him. Play along?”

The other prey hybrid nods and smiles softly. You watch as she presses a few buttons on the intercom before it starts ringing. After about three rings, you hear San pick up the other end of the line. You step past her desk and stand by the large dark cherry wood doors that lead to your purple-scaled boyfriend.

“Yes, Somin?” He asks. You can hear that he’s preoccupied with some paperwork just by his tone.

“You have someone here to see you.” The deer hybrid says calmly.

“Somin…” A warning tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine and settles between your legs, “I just started my lunch break. Why would you-”

You push open the door and walk right in. A bright smile radiated from your lips, and your tall white ears stood high with joy.

“If you don’t want home-cooked food from Wooyoung or to see your favorite bunny, just say so.” You tease.

San’s pending annoyance instantly simmers, and he whisks you up in his arms. His silver lip ring stands out against his plump, pink lips as they grow into a smile. You giggle as he lifts you up and hugs you tight against his body. Typically, he doesn’t show much physical affection while he’s in his office. Him picking you up and holding you tight against his muscular frame has your heart and stomach flooding with butterflies. You feel him take a few steps back into the office before nudging the door shut with his foot. He puts you down and takes the small bag with the food from you.

“You didn’t even let me say bye to Somin.” You say with a pout.

“You’ll see her on your way out.” San reminds you, “I want to take up as much time as I can with you.”

You make your way over to the black leather couch, plop down, and wait for San to join you to eat. Normally, he eats at his desk, drowning in papers as he eats. He makes an exception with you here and sits with you on the couch. Despite the office being very formal, the couch is framed by two tall bookshelves. There’s a mix of different genres. Of course, he has some boring books that pertain to his career. But fantasy, classical, mystery, and many more books are on the shelves. San sits down beside you and pulls out the containers before placing them side by side on the glass coffee table in front of you.

“How were your morning meetings?” You question once he starts opening the containers.

“Not bad… Mr. Kim tried to tell me how to run my company again.” He starts to grumble at the end.

“And you’ve never let him.” You remind him before taking a bite of your veggies and rice. “You do an amazing job, and we both know that.”

He nods, his slitted pupils dilating when he looks at you, “It was nice of Wooyoung to make you a veggie bowl.”

“Yeah, he actually stopped me on my way out and offered to send me with the food. I think he just made too much, honestly.” You giggle.

You and San float through conversation as you eat. At some point, you whined about your food getting a little too cold for your liking. San instantly takes the container from you and heats his hand just enough to warm your food back up. As your time together progresses, you end up practically on top of your silver-eyed boyfriend. You’re tucked under his arm, legs curled up on the couch while you finish the last few bites of your food. His typically neat button-up is slightly wrinkled, and a bit of your snow-white fur has found its way onto the black fabric.

“Treasure.” San sighs, placing both containers on the table after you finish eating.

“Hmm?” you hum back, looking up at him, “Is everything okay?”

“Come sit.” He tells you while patting his thigh.

You don’t waste a second. You move from being tucked under his arm to straddling his lap. His hands fall onto your hips, rubbing his thumb against your left one in small circular motions. You normally can’t smell your scent, but now, you smell yourself clearly and smell how sweet your scent has become. A smirk touches San’s lips. You see a small tendril of smoke escape his lip. The smoke curls around his lip ring before disappearing into the air.

“You smell so good right now, Treasure.” He practically growls, “It’s taking everything in me not to jump you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?” You challenge.

A curl of smoke escapes the corner of your boyfriend’s lips, and his pupils sharpen; you can hardly see them. He’s trying so hard to maintain his composure, but you both know he’s weak to you. His large hands press harder into your hip bone, hoping to remain composed. He snaps when you whimper, and your nose starts twitching as a response to the predatory hybrid. You find yourself spun around and bent over the couch he had been seated on moments ago.

“I’m so happy you chose to wear this dress today, Treasure.” He practically growls as he kneels down, running the pad of his finger against your clothed folds, “You’re already soaked, and I’ve barely touched you.”

On a normal day, San makes you melt into a puddle. Something about doing this here in his office with the city below you makes you practically vibrate with excitement. You feel the heat of his lip ring against the back of your thigh. His kisses trail higher and higher until he’s pressing barely there kisses against your clothed heat. His lip ring burns hot through the fabric. Just when you think you may go insane from the thin barrier between your core and San’s lips, he tugs the material. A rip sounds through the office.

“You don’t need them here, Treasure. No one’s gonna see you like this but me.” he practically growls.

Before you can formulate any response, San’s tongue delves into you. The pink muscle is normally warm as is, but he seems to have heated it more. The hot feeling of his tongue deep inside you makes your thighs twitch. Your head falls forward against the back of the couch; your ears flop forward in front of your face along the leather.

“Sannie,” you whine, grinding back on his tongue more.

“Hmm?” San responds, and the vibration of his voice sends tendrils of pleasure through your body.

You can’t even think of what you wanted to say to him mere seconds ago. Instead, you grind back against his face more. Your silver-eyed boyfriend has other plans, though. You swear you can feel him smirk before letting a hand trail along your thigh. His nails scrape against your skin just enough to leave thin red marks in their wake. The fingers trail around between your thighs just in front of his face and start gently grazing across your clit. Just enough for you to be aware of the stimulation but not enough to give you any release.

“Do you want something, Treasure?” He mumbles before continuing to lap at your folds.

“Sannie,” you whimper, “want- fuck- want-” You cut yourself off with a moan.

You try to push back against him again, only to have his other hand grip your tail. You let out a loud moan and tremble at the contact. Your orgasm comes out of left field, and you crumble against the couch as your boyfriend helps you ride out your high. The moment you come back down, you find yourself limp over the back of the couch. Your thighs are still trembling, and your snowy ears twitch slightly.

“Treasure.” San calls with authority in his tone, “You didn’t answer my question, I’m afraid-”

His words get cut off by the sound of his desk phone ringing. You hear a huff before he strides over. Rolling so you lay against the cool leather. San clearly is hard inside his dress pants but focuses on getting to the incessant ringing phone. He throws himself back in his large office chair and presses the button to allow the call to be on speaker.

“M-Mr. Choi,” It’s Somin, “The officials from-”

The sound is cut off from your ears when San picks up the phone and brings it to his ear. You glance at the scraps of your panties on the floor and kick them under the couch before quietly walking up to your boyfriend. His eyes follow you as he listens to his secretary.

“You mean to tell me that they’re an hour early? They aren’t supposed to be here until 3pm.”

You don’t hear Somin’s response, but San’s silver eyes dart to the clock on the wall. It is 3pm. Your pale blue eyes meet San’s silver ones before you step closer. You push his shoulder just enough to move his chair back. The chord of the phone stretches just a bit but not enough to strain it.

“What are you doing?” The purple dragon mouths to you.

You hold a finger up to your lip. You kneel down and shimmy your way under his desk. His pupils are thinly slit again. Seeing the shift from how dilated they were moments ago sends shivers up your spine. His eyes stay trained on you as you run your hands over his strong thighs. Another curl of smoke escapes his lips. He’s trying so hard to hold back.

“H-huh? Yes, Somin, I heard you. Yes, yes-”

San takes a sharp breath when your hand runs over his clothed member. You can feel the small hard bubbles that run up his member. Your mouth waters like a Pavlovian response to it.

“They’re downstairs, you said?” San asks, trying to maintain his composure. “Yeah, send them up.” he tells her, a fire burning in his eyes as he watches you. “She’ll be leaving shortly, it’s okay.”

You give him big, innocent eyes, and ears back against your hair as you start to play with his belt buckle. He leans forward and places the phone back on the stand. A small flicker of flames is visible as he pulls his hand back from the device. He gives you a burning stare, his pupils practically swallowed by the metallic silver swirling in his irises.

“Behave yourself.” He bites, “If you can behave while I have this meeting, you’ll be forgiven from enduring that punishment I was about to dole out.”

You nod, “Can’t I have a bit of fun, though?” You bat your eyelashes at him, hoping to sway his choice.

“After they’re seated.” He caves, “And you’ll take whatever I give you. No funny business, understand?”

“Yes, sir!” You respond with a slightly teasing giggle to your tone.

A growl, followed by a tendril of smoke from his nostril, escapes him. He looks as though he’s about to correct your rather sudden bratty behavior before a knock sounds on the dark cherry wood door. He doesn’t say a word to you, but his eyes speak for him. ‘Behave yourself and stay quiet, or you’ll pay the price.’

Networks: @monsterfvckersunited @kwritersworld @k-vanity @cultofdionysusnet

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxy

#san smut #mfu-net #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san fanfic #san x reader

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daniiiboo · 7 months ago

Text

day 7 - falling for you - cb98

summary - You and Connor go ice skating, little does he know, you are a bad skater.

trigger warnings - talks of blades and reader sucking

dani's thoughts - OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH IM SO- AHHH

word count - 498

find the rest of my 12 days of chrismas here !

The air was sharp with winter’s chill, but the festive atmosphere at the outdoor rink made it impossible to feel cold. Twinkling lights wrapped around nearby trees, soft music played through speakers, and the sound of skates on ice filled the night.

Connor was practically glowing with excitement as he laced up his skates, the grin on his face wide enough to make your heart flutter.

“This is going to be fun,” he said, tightening the last lace and glancing up at you. “It’s been way too long since I’ve done this outside.”

You smiled back, but your hands fumbled nervously with your skates. What Connor didn’t know, what you had carefully avoided telling him, was that you weren’t exactly a skating pro. In fact, the last time you had been on ice, you’d spent more time on your backside than on your feet.

“You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Yeah, totally,” you said quickly, waving him off. “Let’s do this!”

Connor gave you a hand to help you up, and the moment your skates hit the ice, you wobbled. He caught you immediately, his hands firm but gentle on your arms.

“Whoa,” he said, laughing as he steadied you. “You good?”

“Yup,” you said, your voice higher than usual. “Just... getting used to it again.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he skated backward a few feet, his movements smooth and effortless.

“Come on,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’ll go slow.”

You took a deep breath, placed your trembling hand in his, and shuffled forward. Connor moved at a snail’s pace, his grin growing as he watched you concentrate on not falling.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged, his tone soft but teasing.

“Stop lying to me,” you muttered, your other arm flailing slightly for balance.

Connor’s laugh echoed across the rink, and for a moment, you couldn’t even be embarrassed, it was impossible to be anything but charmed by him.

It wasn’t long before disaster struck. As you tried to pick up the pace, your skate caught on a rough patch of ice, and you yelped as your feet flew out from under you.

“Whoa!” Connor lunged forward, catching you around the waist just before you hit the ice. You clung to him, your cheeks burning as you buried your face in his chest.

“Okay,” he said, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter, “I have to ask. How bad are you at skating?”

“On a scale of one to ten?” you mumbled. “Probably a negative three.”

Connor laughed, his hands still firmly on your waist. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you were so excited, and I didn’t want to ruin it!”

He softened at that, his grin turning into something gentler. “You’re not ruining anything,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “This is fun. Besides…” He smirked. “I kind of like being the one to catch you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his gaze made your heart flutter.

“Okay,” he said, still holding onto you, “how about I teach you?”

“Deal,” you replied, unable to hide your smile.

And as the two of you slowly glided across the rink—Connor’s hands steadying you every step of the way—you couldn’t help but feel that maybe falling wasn’t so bad after all.

#dani writes ᡣ𐭩 #dani's 12 days of christmas !#connor bedard x reader #connor bedard x you #Chicago Blackhawks x reader

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in3fficient-n0velist · 6 days ago

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do you still accept requests??

because I wanna request another harumasa x fem reader fic

Sick Day - Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Author’s note: it’s pretty short (for me at least) but I just wanted to get some fluff with Harumasa’s lazy self. And since this one’s a request, it’s not crossposted to AO3.

Fem reader, hurt comfort because of his illness

~900 words

///

Some nights were interrupted this way:

The rustling of bedsheets, the burning heat on one’s skin of sweat, a small whimper.

It was another nightmare from Harumasa. He didn’t like to tell you about them very often, but you understood the gist — he was scared that his Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome would take over, that he would go on a killing rampage as an Ethereal.

But when you looked at him, his face half-buried in the pillow and a light sheen on his forehead, he didn’t seem one bit of the monster he supposed himself to be.

The nightstand was decorated with pill bottles that he was meant to take, empty needles. The yellow band he always tied around his head lay in wrinkled disarray. His pale shoulder was exposed, since he didn’t like sleeping with a shirt on.

“Hey. Haru.” Your arms went to sweep him up and out of his imagination. His golden eyes flew open in distress, before he realized it was you. And as soon as he did, he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“It’s still you,” you whispered, “you’re human, and you’re not alone. It’s okay.”

For minutes you sat there with him in your arms, listening to his breath slow. Harumasa opted to not say anything. He was avoiding your gaze.

You guided him to look at you with a gentle hand on his jaw. It was clear he was trying to put on a brave face, the same as he always did. Just because he was comfortable enough to ask for help didn’t mean he told you all his feelings, but that was okay. You understood.

“I like it so much better now that I have someone to sleep next to,” was all he admitted.

You threaded your hand through his black hair, petting it almost absentmindedly. It was just as soothing for you as it was for him. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, so you don’t have to worry. And… you don’t have to tell me any of the details, if you’re not comfortable. But how would you rate the fear on a scale?”

“From one to ten? I would say about a seven.” He let his head droop again. “It’s not a new nightmare or anything. Definitely not fun though.”

“Did you forget to take your medication?”

Harumasa buried his head into your cleavage like it was a pillow. You could feel him breathing in and out more slowly. His eyes fell shut again, but you nudged his arm.

“Take your medicine. I see that your case for Tuesday still has the pills in it,” you repeated.

His golden eyes flashed with mischief as he looked up at you. “I would prefer if you fed me them yourself.”

“Nope. Take the pill, and then I’ll cuddle with you until you fall asleep again.” Your hand drifted through his hair, being careful not to brush over the pinprick scars on his neck.

With a sleepy groan, he removed himself from your arms to pop a few pills. It was a practiced motion — tipping his head back and swallowing — that he didn’t need water for. Harumasa’s adam’s apple bobbed as the medication went down. And lower, your eyes trailed to his collarbone and exposed abs.

“You really need to take off work tomorrow.” You fell back against the pillows. It was four in the morning, so you could still manage a couple quality hours of sleep.

Haru grinned, an expression you were much more used to. “You think I can get away with it?” The pill bottle clinked on his nightstand and he laid down right next to you.

“I don’t think it’s a matter of ‘getting away with it’. You’ll take off whether or not Miyabi approves…”

“You know me too well, babe.”

It wasn’t long before he pulled you close in his arms, into his warm chest. The two of you liked to switch often, but unless he had a particularly horrifying dream, Harumasa gained the most comfort from knowing you were tangible and still there for him. You couldn’t deny you enjoyed it, either.

He probably wouldn’t stop having these nightmares any time soon. But having you there with him made them feel more manageable.

///

Come seven a.m., Harumasa drowsily grabbed his phone and dialed his boss, Hoshimi Miyabi. He refused to let go of you the whole time, and it was close enough you could hear the other line.

“Aha, I’m gonna have to take today off from work… I’m soooo busy…” he complained. It was almost crazy to you how fast he could change his demeanor. How, through all of his laziness and easy jokes, he could show you that beat-down, exhausted version of himself.

You could hear Miyabi’s smooth voice through his phone. “I swear, Harumasa, you better not be off messing around with your wife.”

“How could you think such a thing? You wound me, I’m feeling…” He coughed in the other direction. “I think… I think I feel a fever coming on. I really need a pass to stay home.”

On the other line, Miyabi was most likely not surprised.

Soukaku’s voice chimed in. “Oh… is Harumasa staying home again?”

“Yes. Yes he is,” he said cheekily, hugging you closer.

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing #my writing #writeblr #zenless zone zero harumasa #zzz harumasa #zenless zone zero #harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #harumasa #x reader #zzz fanfic #fluff #harumasa x you

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serpentface · 1 year ago

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i really like how this setting has a very well defined history to it, the past, the way it has been described so far, genuinely feels like another place and still one that would logically lead to the present, so i wanted to ask, have you thought at all about this in the other direction? what will the setting look like in 10, 50, a 100 years? just where is this world going exactly?

10 years absolutely. 50 years not so much. 100 years barely. Far future not at all. Here's a summary of the localized 10-15 year outcome (posting the (incomplete, already outdated) map again because it is extremely necessary for the paragraphs to come)

(Titenegal is the star just to the west of Godsmouth, the Mouth is the stretch of sea between Bur and the Wardi empire, the Viper trails off a little off-map to the east, the seas west of the Viper form the Inner Seaway)

I have a pretty solid idea of the next 10-15 years for Imperial Wardin. The former king (technically emperor but the word for 'king' is used for this title) Stavis Amanti honorably and nobly and TOTALLY willingly replaces the destined white calf in sacrifice, and the Odomache takes his dynasty's place as the emperor. As God Itself incarnated, the state is now functionally a theocracy with a god-emperor. The Imperial Wardi faith has always been the greatest unifying factor in an otherwise fragmented imperial entity, and this change results in a greater centralization of power than what's seen in Whitecalf (in which it is essentially composed of allied city-states conditionally loyal to a king, it's integrity is very tenuous in general and actively falling apart in the famine). The city-state of Lobera and Godsmouth both disavow the Amanti dynasty during the famine and the former wholly secedes and declares itself an independent state near the end of the story (the latter re-avows its loyalty to the new god-emperor). Lobera pulls some nearby imperial tributary territories under its protection and and the territorial size of Imperial Wardin is diminished (basically the entire northeast is lost).

The drought DOES end in the same year as the pilgrimage (yayyyy it worked) but actual recovery from a 6.75 year drought and famine, especially in the context of a shift in political power, takes time. The famine cannot be considered to have fully ended for another 4-5 years (conditions just gradually improve until normalization) and this time is spent in with focus being inward and on recovery and reunification. The city-state of Erub in particular fully collapsed by the end of the famine (the Yellowtail river ran Completely dry and tens of thousands of people in that region alone died from starvation and disease) and is never reformed in this 15 year period, though some refugees (and opportunists grabbing lands from dead or fled farmers) start to trickle back in as the land recovers.

The shift in power from a dynastic imperial monarchy to an imperial oligarchy is actually wildly popular among much of the public (the notion existed long before it actually happened, the public opinion on the imperial family is EXTREMELY low during the famine and the pilgrimage is largely a desperate attempt to save face). The social perception that God Itself incarnated and made head of state is what ended the drought and famine is massively beneficial to the new power structure. Imperial Wardin emerges from famine recovery at the most united and centralized in power it's ever been.

A full scale war between Imperial Wardin and Lobera+Allies finally occurs about 6 years out, and lasts a little over a year before Lobera is utterly crushed and re-absorbed. Control over tributary states is reaffirmed, and efforts start to be made to make Imperial Wardi territory fully contiguous (in the map, only the red sections are Fully controlled territories)

Meanwhile Titenegal is more aggressively courted into full alliance with Godsmouth, and the majority of elected officials vote for a merger, which in practice absorbs it into the Wardi empire (while retaining elected officials for local affairs, though these must defer to the emperor). This basically splits the united Burri nations in half (both in public opinion and in a literal territorial capacity) and is extremely contentious. Imperial Wardin is clearly in the process of pulling the old switcheroo and conquering Bur, through diplomacy for the time being.

And with the full cross-Mouth unification having occurred, attention is turned back north to Finnerich (which has been fully independent of its tributary status for over a decade now, and has been a major pain in the ass for both Wardi and Burri interests). A much stronger, much more unified, and much more militarized Imperial Wardin starts preparing for another round of invasions, while the self-declared king of Finnerich has been courting historical enemies into allegiance against it. At this point the Wardi Empire is entering a strong expansionist era and trying to conquer the entire Viper Seaway and Mouth, with hopes of finally digging that canal at the end of the Viper (a seaway that peters out about 40 miles from the ocean, many have tried to dig a canal and all have failed) to completely monopolize the eastern tradeways. It has a long way to go to actually get there though.

All this stuff is the political backdrop for Blightseed (the story).

In the LONG and broader term, the only really imminent world-altering scenario would be the greater spread of firearms. At the moment the most complex and powerful firearm being produced is types of flintlocks/matchlocks most comparable to the arquebus (also there's some smaller pistols with similar mechanisms) (I'm also going back and forth on whether I should downgrade the gun tech), but the majority of firearms that exist are more basal fire lances and handcannons (and the VAST majority of peoples have no firearms at all). In the 'contemporary' these matchlocks are only just starting to spread through very powerful states in the Inner Seas tradeway and are generally rare and elite weapons, which are slowly being disseminated through capture and illegal trade and reverse engineered by other people. The spread of relatively efficient and powerful handguns would have profound implications for warfare and the power structures involved in trade networks and will probably be a major contributing force to mass societal changes in the next 100-300 years.

I also haven't provided a good sense of scale via not posting world maps but most of the imperial entities described are relatively tiny on a global scale. There has never been anything in the setting on the scale of the Roman empire or the Mongolian empire at their peaks. Imperial Wardin's total mass of occupied territories (not including claimed but unoccupied land, blue on the map) is a little under the size of the full extent of the Aztec empire (and they have some similarities in being largely composed of a tributary states). It's a world that has heavy interconnection via trade along coasts and seaways, but its societies are mostly (relatively) small in scale. This is a long way of saying I think the mass spread of firearms could result in something closer to that scale of territorial landgrabbing forming.

#This setting does not follow the broad arc of real life history so its far future is wholly ambiguous #(I also strongly disagree with the concept that exponential increase in societal complexity and technological advance is like.#an Inevitable Outcome. Also I think world history pretty distinctly illustrates that societal complexity (in the literal sense #of how many moving parts a society has) and technological complexity is not necessarily correlated.#Long way of saying there's not going to be a FUCKING industrial revolution here)

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rat-king-writes · 1 year ago

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Hey hi hi hey

I love your work and I was wondering if I could request Hanzo from overwatch x male reader fluffy?

( Hello , thank you for the ask . I didn't know how you wanted it formatted , so I just followed my previous style . Hope you enjoy this . )

Synopsis; Hanzo and reader ( pre-established relationship ) go on a date after a tough mission .

Cw ; Brief violence , only brief .

- Everything started off good. You woke up in Hanzo’s arms, smothered into his chest as you both regained consciousness. The first sensation you feel is a light kiss pressed into your hair, the second was cold air enveloping you as your boyfriend moved up and out of the bed. You sigh, knowing you also probably need to get up.

- You sit up with a yawn, smoothing your mussed up hair with one hand and pushing the covers off with the other. Judging by the absent sound of feet, Hanzo must have already gone out of your shared room, probably to go to his so he can retrieve some clothes. You do the same, standing up with a low grunt and begin to get ready. Everything was normal.

- But now you're on a battlefield that's too loud, in gear that's too tight. While you had managed to safely secure yourself a spot behind some sort of structure, you were previously all over the place trying to help those who seemed to be injured. But the worst part is: you couldn't find hanzo.

- You knew the archer was more than capable of defending himself. You knew his past, his strengths. But still, you couldn't help but worry about your lover. You couldn't do much, the bullets were still clearly ringing out behind the object you were hiding against. You would wait for an opening, though that meant you would wait to find your archer.

- Speaking of Hanzo, he is deathly worried. He saw you scurry about the wide expanse of the street, he watched you help others. What he didn't see was you ducking behind a building. All he knows is that you're gone, and he's worried.

- He's perched atop a building, bow in hand as he effortlessly takes out targets. Usually, you would be there right next to him, admiring his skills; a routine you both enjoyed greatly. But now you weren't here, and you were possibly in danger. Hanzo could not let you get hurt.

- Hanzo's tracking skills found you immediately, and he was relieved to find you unharmed and safe. You smile upon seeing him, scrambling up to hug him as tightly as you could. You could feel him squeeze back. You both pull away. Disregarding your tasks would be unwise. Hanzo swings you over his shoulder and scaling a building for high ground. Thankfully, you both have long range weaponry.

- The rest of the mission went smoothly from there, no big casualties or mistakes. The two of you leave shortly after you're cleared to. Something weird happened before though. Hanzo, the PDA hater. Grabs your hand. In front of everyone. This catches you extremely off guard, yet you make no complaints as you both head back to base. A small smile on your lips the entire way home.

- The first thing you both do is shower, the built up sweat and grime on both your bodies is nearly unbearable. Plus, a second shower never hurts. Once you're both dressed in more comfortable clothing you settle down in Hanzo's room. It's silent except for the soft breathing coming from you two contently cuddling. You're practically on top and wrapped around Hanzo, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hands are gently rubbing your back.

- Sadly, he does eventually ask you to pull away and you frown as you do so, scooching onto the actual bed instead of being on him. He apologizes, kisses your forehead and explains he'll be right back. He just has to do something quickly. You nod in slight confusion, it was late at night. But you wouldn't question it, you just waited. You trusted Hanzo entirely.

- About ten minutes pass before Hanzo is back, by this time you're sitting upright and staring at the door like a dog whose owner had left. And like a dog you get incredibly excited when Hanzo comes back. You are about to ask him if he's alright, but the items in his hands stop any noise from coming out of your mouth.

- Hanzo spreads out an array of snacks and drinks on a small pull-out table. Moving said table to the middle of the room where he places down some carving tools and various sized wood blocks. Your heart swells when he looks up at you from where he's seated on the floor.

- You're quick to jump off the bed, taking your own place facing Hanzo. You smile widely, and he smiles back. He speaks calmly, telling you he wants to do something special with you because of the rough day you both had. You nearly sob and quickly reach out to hug Hanzo tightly, pulling back only so you could pepper light kisses over his face. He chuckles at your actions.

- The rest of the night runs beautifully, you both sit in primarily silence, only talking when either of you want to show off what you carved. Hanzo even put on light music and lit up his favorite incense candles. It was perfect, peaceful, and incredibly fun. Hanzo carves up some intricate piece which you fawn over and praise him for. You carve up a heart, it's for him. And though it is rough, Hanzo nearly tears up when you nervously place it into his hands. He adores it, adores you.

- After cleaning up and finding areas for your artworks. You both sluggishly climb into Hanzo's bed, immediately grasping each other for closeness and warmth. A kiss on the lips leaves you breathless, and you are almost giddy with energy when Hanzo pulls back. Thankfully your sleepiness catches up to you when Hanzo turns off the lights and holds you close to his chest. You both drift off to sleep peacefully, and to no one's surprise, your dreams are filled with Hanzo's image.

#overwatch x reader #x male reader #Overwatch x male reader #hanzo shimada #hanzo shimada x reader #Hanzo shimada x male reader #overwatch

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noonical · 1 year ago

Text

𓍯 ִֶָ VANILLA BABY ...

↪ jungwon may not fully understand it, but jay is ready to gift him the world wrapped up in a bow.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ now playing: that's my name - akcent

pairing: park jongseong x yang jungwon cw: kissing, jealousy, whipped jay and enamoured jungwon, a (possibly) cheesy usage of nicknames like "kitty" I'm sorry 😭 but overall nothing really just two silly guys in love

"Baby, have we been to Dubai?"

Jungwon looks up from where he was sitting on their shared bed, in the process of folding their freshly washed and dried clothes. He wears a confused expression as he raises a brow at his boyfriend.

"You have, not me though", he says. Something in him tells Jay is not asking that for nothing and he has a inkling where the conversation is going.

Jay smiles and walks up to sit in front of him on one knee and somehow, that move gets Jungwon blushing in the cheeks. "Well, now we're going there together", he announces with sparkling eyes that hold all the love and affection he has for the younger. Jungwon splutters.

"What?! But what about your work? And what about mine?" Jay fondly chuckles at his comically widened eyes and takes Jungwon's hands in his to softly rub them, making the latter drop the clothes he has been folding. "I didn't forget about your work, love. That's why I planned my meetings to be held in Dubai after two weeks, which is when you said you'll have your ten day vacation, isn't that right?" Jungwon simply nodded, still a bit stunned at the revelation.

They've been a couple for a year and have been to two countries already, but it seems like he's still not fully used to spontaneous trips abroad. Falling in love with a man whose social status differed from his by a large scale was not something that Jungwon thought will happen at all. He was still happy, of course, and wouldn't trade his relationship with his dear Jay-hyung for anything, but he still had a hard time accepting being spoiled.

Jay must have noticed his long pause, and furrowed his eyebrows. "Jungwon-ah, if you don't want it, please just tell me so, it's okay. I'll postpone my meetings and we'll be here for your vacation, you just have to say what you want. Your wishes come before anything else", the older stood up to sit next to Jungwon and gently put his arms around the latter's waist.

Jungwon looked at his boyfriend, heart practically aching from how he was being treated - like he meant the whole world and life to this lovely man. He sniffed and wrapped his arms around the older's neck, blinking his eyes repeatedly to not bawl like a child. "Hyung, you're unbelievable...", he murmured. "Of course I'll go with you, I'm sorry if you thought I won't. It's still kind of new for me... but just know that I'll go anywhere as long as it's with you", he turned his head up to kiss Jay on the corner of his mouth, hands softly brushing along the sharp jawline as he admired the most handsome face he has ever seen. Jay grinned, face so full of glee and pure love that Jungwon couldn't resist kissing him again, this time putting his lips on his boyfriend's.

Jungwon couldn't stop his stunned gasps and "whoa's" as they were on their way to their hotel. Jay decided to book their stay in "Address Sky View", which, of course, intimidated Jungwon with its rate and overall price (even though Jay never let Jungwon pay despite the latter's resistance) at first, but quickly figured it won't be too bad. After all, he loved being pampered by his boyfriend, despite his partial guilt.

"How's Dubai?" Jay whispered lowly, lips brushing Jungwon's reddening ear. The younger was glad the partition was up in the car, otherwise the poor driver would've witnessed their shameless antics. He softly pushed the older on the chest at the bold flirting. "I've always looked at it through the screen but now... I can't believe I'm here, and it's all thanks to you", he smiled gently and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek before putting his head on the sturdy shoulder.

"I can't help but to want the best for you, Wonie, and I want you to know that I do things because I love you, not by obligation or anything else", Jay said and leaned down to kiss the younger on his temple, arm wrapped protectively around the shorter frame. "I know, hyung. I love you too... I don't know how I got so lucky with you", murmured Jungwon, his voice a silky sound surrounded by the gentle whirring of the car.

They safely arrived half an hour later, both drowsy from a late night flight. The couple decided to eat and then sleep since they didn't feel like doing anything aside from resting at the moment. As Jungwon put his head on the fluffy and rumpled pillow, and Jay made sure to properly tuck the younger in bed, he couldn't help but feel like this will last forever. With that thought, he drifted to sleep, dreaming of only the sweetest dreams.

Their first proper day in Dubai started with Jungwon waking up early and just lying down and admiring his man's divine face (which is an absolutely normal thing between them), then, after Jay had risen from sleep, they headed to get breakfast.

"How's the food, kitty?" Jay asked as he carefully wiped a tiny crumb off the younger's face, which, in turn, caused Jungwon, who was still very shy about PDA, to turn pink in the cheeks. He coughed and smiled, his endearing dimples popping out. "I like it! Very delicious and different from what we have in Korea, but in a good way", he hummed as he put down his spoon to pick up his glass filled with orange juice. Jay nodded and put some heart-shaped waffles from his plate to Jungwon's, murmuring "eat more".

After the breakfast, they thought they'd enjoy swimming in an indoors pool since it was already piping hot outside, and so here they were. Jay was completely topless, clad only in swimming trunks, while Jungwon opted for a full body swimsuit, being a person whose preference lies in non revealing clothes. The younger decided to read a book he brought for a little before diving into the water while his boyfriend jumped into the pool as soon as they arrived there.

As Jungwon sat and squirmed in his lounge chair to find a comfortable position, he was suddenly approached by a tall man. He tore his eyes off his book to look up at the stranger in surprise, and that's when he noticed the man's Asian features.

"Hey, sorry if I'm bothering, but I've heard you and your friend talking in Korean and guessed you two are my fellow countrymen", the man said with a friendly smile, and Jungwon's eyes widened. "Oh?! That's right, we're Korean! Wow, that's so cool, I wouldn't have guessed I would see a fellow Korean here.. Uh, what's your name..?" Jungwon said, filled with enthusiasm at the prospect of meeting people from the same place as him and Jay-hyung.

"My name's Hwang Yeonseok, what about you?"

"Yang Jungwon! Nice to meet you", He smiled, eyes bright and shiny as he shook hands with Yeonseok, the man returning the excitement. Jungwon didn't notice how he started chatting with a newfound acquaintance, completely forgetting about his book, the pool and... his boyfriend.

Speaking of the said "boyfriend", Jay didn't notice them immediately, head and body under the surface for a little while until he came out eventually, eyes squeezed and hands rubbing his own face until his vision became clear again. And that's when he took saw them: his boyfriend with another man, both of them talking to each other so animatedly. Now, Jay is not a jealous and possessive man by nature - his Jungwonnie has many guy friends that he's totally not concerned about because, well, that's just weird to feel territorial over your partner when they do nothing for you to be worried about.

This time, however, something was different. Jay was not an oblivious fool and that's why he immediately took notice of the way the stranger was looking at his Jungwon, approaching the younger with a clear (at least to Jay) intent. And that's also why he swam closer to them, when he heard the man say: "By the way, you have a great body, Jungwon. It's not too buff but not too frail either", with an unknown glint in his eyes, and Jay decided to end whatever that was going on. He cleared his throat and Jungwon's head snapped in his direction, heart eyes immediately taking over his embarrassed and shy ones from the man's compliment.

"Jay hyung! Look, this is Hwang Yeonseok, he's also Korean and came here to rest just like us! And Yeonseok-ssi, this is Jay hyung, he's-"

"I'm his boyfriend", smiled Jay, trying his best to look friendly and not bare his teeth in a grimace as he emerged from the water and walked up right next to Jungwon. The latter must have noticed the tension as he took Jay's hand into his and nodded. "Yes, he's my boyfriend", he said in a breathless tone as Yeonseok opened his mouth in surprise. "O-oh, nice to meet you, Jay-ssi. Well, it looks like I have somewhere to be. It was really nice talking to you, Jungwon, see you later. You too, Jay-ssi", the man had smiled and quickly went away, leaving the two alone. Jungwon couldn't hold his giddy expression as he giggled and hugged the older.

"What's gotten into you, hyung? Ah, were you jealous? Was Jjongssaeng jealous of a complete stranger?" He playfully cooed as Jay rolled his eyes. "Yah! He literally complimented your body, isn't that just weird? You also left me in the water by myself, just to talk with another man!" Jay hissed, very obviously playing along since a smile adorned his face. Jungwon threw his head back and nuzzled into his boyfriend's neck afterwards, squeezing his eyes shut in a complete bliss.

"I was just excited to meet a new friend. You're the only man I'll ever find attractive, so don't worry okay? I love you too much to even think about how others look, hyung", he smiled and tiptoed to kiss his hyung's chiseled jawline. Jay grinned, satisfied with his answer and leaned down to kiss the younger's nose, eyes full of adoration.

"Love you too, Jungwonie, so so much."

AN: OKAYYY here goes my first ever published work 😭😭😭 jaywon makes me feel so weak, and English is not my first and not even my second language so forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes 😅 hope someone enjoys it, much love 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 OI ALSO: the title is not really related to the chapter at all, it was stuck in my head so yeah 😅

#dividers by plutism #jaywon #park jongseong #yang jungwon #jay x jungwon #enhypen ships #enhypen #enhypen bxb #🖇️ — noonical #mlm

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razorblade180 · 1 year ago

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Potion Practice

Bonus to this <-

Amber:Aether! Pfft, Nice outfit.

Aether:*in Lisa’s clothes* They’re helping me make better potions. This has been a little hard. *stirs pot*

Amber:Oh yeah? Alchemy does seem complicated. I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.

Aether:Did you want me to make something or stare at the slit in this outfit.

Amber:I just can’t believe she had one in your size. What’s the likelihood you’d mess up if I held your waist?

Aether:Fairly high.

Amber:Then I will settle for a vigor and stamina potion that’s good for long patrols. Lightly I’ve been pulling expedition alongside my normal routine while other knights are training new recruits.

Aether:Did Ellin and Noelle pass?

Amber:Not yet unfortunately.

Aether:One day. Welp…I could attempt a potion for you.

Amber:You’ll do great! I heard business was fine.

Aether:Last time I messed with vigor and stamina I made an aphrodisiac.

Amber:…

Aether:That was my expression when Lisa told me. Thankfully, she took Sumeru Rose stems away.

Amber:Why were they there in the first place if-

Aether:Because Lisa is chaos. *adds three Rainbow Rose leaves* Now let’s add some Asters and…done.

Potion turns red

Aether:Well it isn’t pink this time, so that’s good. Although maybe I should dip it first?

Amber:No it’s fine. I trust your skills. Besides, it would be bad it something made you have to shut down the shop.

Aether:You have work though.

Amber:Worst case scenario, Kaeya fills in for me after taking care of his nonexistent Calvary. *sips potion*

…….

Aether:Thoughts?

Amber:Taste good. My sinuses are open, like a rush of fresh mint. Guess it works for vigor! Coffee wasn’t really doing it anymore.

Aether:That’s awesome! Glad I can help.

Amber:When is your next break by the way? I’m sure you’re allowed lunch soon?

Aether:All the other potions have been properly prepared and stocked. We can catch up now. Just let me change.

Amber:You’re not walking into town like this?

Aether:I’m not wearing these heels longer than I feel necessary.

Amber:That’s fair. I’m glad I caught you when I did then. Hehe, especially cause this is definitely another type of love potion.

Aether:…Come again?

Amber:This potion. Definitely an aphrodisiac.

Aether:Please say sike.

Amber:*fans face* I wanna, however…

Aether:There’s no fuckin way- *grabs potion book*….. Lisa!!

The witch casually walks over. She doesn’t even need to be asked for her to smell the brew.

Lisa:Ah you used the Rainbow Rose leaves raw. That’s pretty overwhelming at times unless you only add two or ground them up for extract. This is pretty low grade so just add chill water before selling it. *leaves*

Aether:Why the hell is the line between vigor and horny one leaf? Amber, how exactly are you feeling?

Amber:I’ve never had an aphrodisiac before so on a scale from one to ten… I’m sitting at a six. Maybe a six and an half?

Aether:Hold on. I’ve gotten good at stabilizers for obvious reasons. Give me five minutes.

Amber:….Or, I can get our lunch to go and meet you at my place? You need a place to change anyway.

Aether:…

Amber:… *sips potion*

Aether:Paimon!

Paimon:*counting mora* The shop is in good hands! Just come back with snacks!

Amber:Consider it done! *takes Aether’s hand*

Aether: I don’t know how to feel about being on the menu while in this.

Amber:Consider it dessert.

Aether:There’s no way Lisa said that stuff was low grade.

Lisa:*in the distance* I can show you high grade!

Aether:Please don’t!

#genshin impact #gi aether #gi amber #lisa minci #gi paimon #amber x aether #genshin ship

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inexplicifics · 1 year ago

Note

Hi the fashion designer in training again, you posted my og ask and it got me thinking about it again (as if i ever stop) and I was thinking about how different monsters would be categorized and how that might change the fashion sense of things too. For example, theres humanoids, animal adjacent, insect adjacent (broadly), and plant adjacent.

Humanoids, to me, would be creatures/monsters that have little to no animal, insect, or plant otherness, such as trolls, drowners, bruxa, even sirens (even though they overlap into animal). Witchers obviously have magical uses from their kills but from a fashion/mundane perspective a lot of what these creatures provide would be equivalent to that of what a human might. Now, there is a lot of real world history that is sensitive and triggering about the use of human remains, especially in recent times of widespread slavery that has a lot of themes of cannibalism, farming practices, and lack of humanity even after death, such as leather tanning for clothes, the use of human remains in parchment (as parchment is made from animal remains and not wood or plants, that’s what differentiates it from paper), and more. This is why anything that leans more human than monster (such as a bruxa, vampire, succubus, etc) I don’t think I’ll touch with a ten foot pole unless it is to deal with their unique remains. Creatures that lean more monster such as trolls get thrown through the wringer though.

Trolls specifically have really thick skin, which in a tanning process would take… forever to turn into leather but the results would be potentially amazing. Thick strong leather would last for centuries if treated right, I have no doubt in my mind that troll leather would make fantastic saddles, boots, furniture — awful clothes but the other implications mean a lot to me because it might just make excellent armor.

Sirens, as the middleman between humanoids and animal adjacent, would be excellent to discuss scales. There is a company that currently helps with fish scale waste and uses them to make clothes that are naturally soft and have added benefits of being moisture managing (helps with retaining moisture in skin in dry environments) and also is naturally anti-odor! This is incredibly cool for the fashion world and I could see it being a real thing for the witcher world… if they had the time to do it, as I fear modern technology would need to be replaced with magic and I’m not sure mages, researcher included, would be interested in going out of their way to collect siren scales to create fabric (unless they could imbue it with magic? 🤔 A potential concept to long lasting charmed clothes) So very interesting but not as plausible in a fantasy world.

But! Reptilian scales are highly sought after in fashion designs and are not as wasteful as fish scales. The Witcher basilisk is reptilian in nature, which would make for excellent clothes, anything in fashion you can think of in scales you can bet it exists. Scales are widely loved and used even today, so basilisk skin? Oh yeah, it’s up there for fashion. Even says so in various wikis 😉.

Animal adjacent clothing will look a lot like what we have for animals now, adjusted as needed. Basilisks are large so their hides would be easy to convert to many items, whereas snake skin is small and you would need several to make a significant piece of cloth. This would make it far more valuable. Not to mention the claws, claws which are used in various forms. From clasps on just about everything, to jewelry, to decor, to piercings, I know a basilisk claw would be on a noble’s cloak or belt, I just know it.

This translates to, as mentioned before, wargs and other furred animals. The larger, the better, the more you can take, the better, the more *dangerous* to prove your worth, the better. A bear claw is nothing compared to a warg fang, and so on and so forth. I haven’t even gotten started on the length of griffin feathers and what that would do for fashion. No one understands what length in natural materials means to me except for other people who’s special interests are fashion, fantasy worlds, and survival skills. I cannot explain *length of feathers* in gowns. In cloaks. In *jewelry.* But that’s a post for a little old me who isn’t up at 1am on a school night.

Enjoy my midnight ramblings, I realize that this got out of hand and is uh… not really well connected in terms of thoughts but I hope it made sense to people who aren’t deep in the trenches like me lmao

Please imagine me sitting here with my chin on my hands, staring at you with hearts in my eyes as I listen to your interesting and informative midnight ramblings.

#questions answered #accidental warlord au #witcher fashion

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autumnshighlady · 1 year ago

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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 19)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris helps Nesta conquer her fear of fire

warnings: inner circle slander, MAJOR angst, Cassian hate

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry for the short chapter (i mean it's still 4000+ words but its short for me lmao) but I'm already working on the next one but here's a Neris chapter! haven't updated this fic in too long, so I apologize. Enjoy and as always, tell me your thoughts and reactions!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

NESTA POV

Nesta gently stroked Athariel’s silver scales as the dragon snaked its head around her, vying for attention. The beast made a low cooing noise at her touch, and Nesta chuckled to herself. She remembered the mix of awe and fear she had felt upon seeing the dragons for the first time. Ancient and mythical beasts beyond her wildest imagination, in the flesh before her very eyes. And yet at this moment, Athariel was acting more like a puppy than a dragon.

“Some fearsome beast you are.” Nesta murmured as Athariel continued to purr lowly. She reached forward to scratch behind the dragon’s right horn, and Athariel responded by closing her eyes and pushing her head further into Nesta’s hand. “Spoiled creature.”

The sweet autumn breeze funnelled into the cave and stroked Nesta’s cheek. It was an unusually cold day. Even the thick wool layers did little to keep out the biting chill that seeped into Nesta’s bones. She shivered slightly, pressing closer to the dragon for warmth.

Eris had left about ten minutes ago to fetch something for today’s training session. As usual, he refused to elaborate, only giving Nesta a playful wink that he knew would send her blood steaming when she asked what he was going to fetch. Every few days, Eris dragged her to the dragon cave to train her magic. Even after her demonstration to Beron, Eris insisted they continue the practice. “Killing my father is going to take a lot more finesse than your display, my dear.” He had explained. “My father is not an idiot. He knows how to defend himself, you do not.”

As much as she hated admitting that she liked spending time with Eris, it pained Nesta to be away from you. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had been constantly pulled away by servants, planners, dress fitters, and courtiers in preparation. It broke her heart, seeing the life slowly drain out of your eyes with each passing day. She saw how you snuck desperate glances at her as you were shuffled off for wedding business, pleading for help through the bond. There was nothing that could compare to the pain of the helplessness she felt. Eris had sternly told her to keep it together, that she had a part to play and couldn’t interfere with your engagement yet. His father would be watching your every move, and if Nesta became too involved then everything would go to hell.

The thought of the two upcoming weddings made Nesta’s stomach churn. While she definitely got the better of Beron’s sons, there were still so many things about Eris that she couldn’t figure out. The Prince always had an angle to play, never revealing his next move until he was certain things would work out in his favour. Nesta could understand why he was helping her. Objectively, their marriage was a strong match. She had been raised by her mother for this exact role – a doting wife who appeased the males of the court, but one with a viper’s tongue who was able to hold her own and get exactly what she wanted. Eris would benefit from it too, having a Cauldron-made female at his side whose powers dwarfed any of those in his court.

But his angle with you was something Nesta couldn’t figure out. Helping you was a huge risk for him, one that placed both you and the Prince in danger. Throwing you out of the Autumn Court and delivering you back to Rhysand would have been the smart move for Eris, as it would have eased the tension between Autumn and Night after Nesta had slipped through Rhysand’s grasp. Helping you was a risk that Nesta couldn’t understand why Eris was so willing to take. She had tried probing him about it a few times, but he had always brushed her off.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Eris strode back into the cave, a bundle of sticks and wood in his arms. He dumped them on the floor, the clattering noise echoing throughout the dragon’s den. Morgoth’s massive dark head appeared from the shadows, emitting a low rumbling noise that shook Nesta’s bones as he sniffed his master. Eris chuckled, saying something to the dragon in a language Nesta did not understand as he stroked its nose.

She frowned at the pile of wood on the floor. “You went out to collect sticks?”

Eris smirked. “Brilliant observation, Nesta Archeron. You never cease to amaze me.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Prick. What do sticks have to do with training my magic?”

“Because it’s hard to train fire-related magic when you’re utterly terrified of fire itself.”

Nesta froze, panic rising in her chest. Athariel nudged her now-still hand, as if sensing her anxiety. But she kept a straight face and said evenly, “I do not know what you mean.”

Eris scoffed, bending down and arranging the sticks. “Oh, please. You flinch every time the hearth is lit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever I use my magic around you. Deny it all you want, but I see right through you, my dear.”

She blanched at his words. His tone was not accusing nor angry, but casual and nonchalant. He wasn’t trying to put her down, but simply pointed out an observation. Nesta’s throat closed up as she realised just how much Eris truly picked up on. Not once did Cassian ever seem to notice how she flinched from every fire he lit, or how her room was always freezing and damp because she refused to use the fireplace. He had been too focused on fucking her to ever truly see through the front she put up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” Eris said, a bit softer this time. “But fear will distract you, and we cannot afford to have you distracted at this time. I will not force you to face this fear if you truly feel that you cannot, but I believe you are able to. You have already overcome so much, Archeron. Let this be just another obstacle.”

His gentle encouragement surprised Nesta, despite having experienced it before. She always found herself comparing his words to Cassian and the Inner Circle’s. The Inner Circle always gave her the illusion of a choice, two bad options with one worse than the other, forcing her to choose the lesser of two evils and end up going with what worked best for their agenda. There was no choice in training with Cassian, it was presented as something she simply had to do.

Eris, on the other hand, always offered her a way out – another option even if it was one that made his life more difficult. He would explain the upsides and downsides to each path with logic, not manipulation. It was something Nesta grew to appreciate. He never backed her into a corner, or wanted her to submit.

She hated how the way she was treated in the Night Court followed her around like a ghost, haunting her every move. Guilt churned in her gut every time she instinctively snapped at Eris, anticipating that she would be forced into something. To his credit, he did not appear phased by her reactions and would wave off any apologies. It was something the Inner Circle had never understood about her. Nesta’s life had been taken out of her hands when she was snatched in the middle of the night and forced into the Cauldron. She did not choose to become fae, and now suddenly she had an immortal life ahead of her and no idea what to do with it. Yet her choices in the Night Court were never her own. Someone always decided what was best for her, rather than letting her figure out this transition at her own pace.

But Eris always gave her a choice. Nesta knew Eris wanted her to overcome her fear of fire for everyone’s sake, and she trusted him enough by now that she knew if she said no, he would drop the subject rather than push her buttons. So she took a breath, staring at the pile of sticks the Prince had assembled. “Ok,” She said. “I’ll do it.”

*********************

Half an hour later, Nesta’s breath was slightly less shaky. Her back was pressed against Athariel’s silver neck, the heated scales of the dragon adding extra warmth against the damp autumn chill. A small orange fire blazed a few feet in front of her, that haunting snapping noise echoing throughout the cave. It took every ounce of self control Nesta had to not panic, taking deep breaths to try and push down the bile in her throat.

Eris sat beside her, his arm ever so slightly grazing hers. He had spent the past thirty minutes monologuing about anything and everything, a welcome distraction to help Nesta focus on something else other than the crackling of the fire. He told all types of stories, ranging from tales of the ancient beings in Prythian to recounting the time Lucien accidentally killed Eris’s favourite fish by taking it out of the water to get fresh air. Nesta had not chimed in, but let out a snort at the latter story. She had seen Eris smile out of the corner of her eye. A true smile, not his usual arrogant smirk. It made her heart flutter, seeing the autumn Prince so relaxed.

As time passed, the less Nesta flinched at the noises from the fire. Her body began to relax, and she saw less of her father’s face across her mind and began to appreciate the beauty of the orange flames. They still unsettled her and if she could smite them out this second she would. But she no longer felt the urge to crawl out of her own skin.

“... And I ate every last bit of that so-called ‘birthday cake’ Lucien made,” Eris rambled on, following another story about him and his youngest brother. “It was ghastly. Every bite made me want to hurl my guts up, but my brother looked so young and proud of his creation that I couldn’t hurt his feelings. Although he has always been a slippery little bastard, so part of me wondered if he was just playing innocent and deliberately made me a disgusting cake on purpose to see if I loved him enough to pretend it was good.”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed at that. She turned her head to meet Eris’s gaze. He made no jibing remark about how rare a laugh like that was for her, like Cassian would have done. He simply smiled, the orange light of the fire casting artful shadows across his pale skin.

“Eris,” Nesta began hesitantly, the noise of the fire fading into the background. “Can I ask you something?”

The heir shrugged. “I am an open book, Nesta Archeron. Ask away.”

She snorted. “Ok, well we both know that’s not true.”

“If you want to know my deepest darkest secrets, my dear, all you have to do is ask.” Eris purred. Nesta’s blood heated at his velvety voice, and she pushed herself to focus.

“What happened to Lucien?” She asked. “I was never told much about him, even by (Y/N). All I know is that he was in the Spring Court with Feyre when she was there, and he was in that room in Hybern with the Cauldron. And that he’s Elain’s mate and is now bouncing between the mortal lands and the Night Court.”

Eris sighed. “It’s complicated, Nesta.”

“I’m just trying to understand his role in all of this.”

“Including if he would be a good mate to your sister, am I correct?”

Nesta swallowed her sadness. She had tried not to think about Elain these past few weeks. The memory of finding out Elain had been the one to pack up what little belongings she had in her apartment stung like a fresh wound. “No,” She corrected Eris. “Because I appear to be the only one from the Night Court who likes to think of him as his own person, not just Elain’s mate. Who Elain chooses to be with is no longer my concern.”

Eris nodded. “Very well. Lucien is the youngest of my brothers, and my father was especially cruel to him. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this cave, understood?”

Nesta nodded, curious.

“Lucien is not my father’s son. My mother had an affair with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. I figured it out quickly, but my mother always denied it. My father had suspicions but no proof, so he took every opportunity he could to punish Lucien. He hated that Lucien never cared about his royal status, and that he frequently made friends with individuals that my father deemed unworthy – (Y/N) included. One day, he met a lesser faerie named Jesminda. When my father found out about it, he had two of my brothers hold Lucien back as he executed Jesminda right in front of him.”

Nesta chose her words carefully. “Were you… were you there?”

Eris looked at her sharply. “Yes, I was. But I refused my fathers request to kill Jesminda, so he did it himself. It is the only thing I have ever refused him, even to this day. And I paid the price for it.”

“What did he do to you?”

“That matters not. Once I was released from the dungeons, my spies informed me that my father was planning on killing Lucien. I knew my brother was smart and would flee to the Spring Court, so I alerted Tamlin to the situation. Tamlin found Lucien at the border and killed two of my three brothers that had been sent after him to slaughter Lucien on our father’s orders.”

Nesta picked at a thread on her sleeve and asked dryly, “Let me guess, Malgorm was the one who escaped Tamlin’s claws?”

Eris snorted humourlessly. “Yes. Somehow, Malgorm always finds a way to escape death. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Does Lucien know what you did for him?”

“No. He does not. And it does not matter if he did know, it would not change his hatred for me.”

A sadness overtook Eris’s eyes that pained Nesta. With a sick feeling in her gut, she knew looking at Eris was like looking in a mirror. Two eldest children with a cruel parent, twisted and moulded into their parent’s perfect creation. Nesta knew that Feyre would always see her as their mother’s favourite, but never knew just how much Nesta suffered underneath her. How Nesta would plead to the universe every night that their mother would turn her attention elsewhere because neglect was better than cruelty to her. Feyre did not know that her grandmother had beaten her, or that her mother had pulled Nesta’s hair until she cried and deprived her of meals to keep her thin. Nesta had never told her, not only for fear of showing weakness, but because she knew that Feyre had been so neglected she wouldn’t truly be able to understand that their mother’s attention was not something to be desired.

And Eris was the same. All the tales Nesta had heard of him portrayed the male as a worse version of Beron, a perfect eldest son and soldier for the High Lord to wield like a sword. But he had done so much to protect his younger brother, and just like Nesta, had never told him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully understand it. They were both disliked by their youngest sibling for being their parent’s prized pupils, oblivious to the whole story. Even though Eris had not answered her question, Nesta knew that what Beron had put him through was a thousand times worse than anything her mother had done. Deep down, she knew that Eris was just as broken as she was. Their main difference was Eris had centuries of practice in masking it, whereas Nesta did not.

“You’re not a bad male, Eris.” Nesta said softly, her gaze lost in the warm amber of his eyes.

“You hardly know me.” His voice was bitter, the aloof arrogant mask he wore threatening to slide up and hide the vulnerability Nesta had seen in his face moments ago. “I’ve done horrible things in the name of my father, Nesta. Things that would make you run back to the Night Court if you knew.”

“I don’t judge people for what they had to do to survive.” Nesta insisted, her voice even. “You may have your own secret agenda, Eris, but you’ve treated me better than most people have in a long, long time. Do not think I don’t appreciate that.”

Eris laughed, and the haunted look was shoved from his face. “My dear, how you have been treated is appalling, even to me. Let’s not have that be the standard, I beg you.”

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” Nesta said before she could stop herself. It simply slipped out, the guilt that had been shoved down her throat by the Inner Circle ever since she became fae entrapping her words once again. It was an exhausting uphill battle. Every day, she told herself that she was right to flee the Night Court, to try and make a life for herself outside Velaris. But every day those seeds of doubt wriggled their way into her thoughts, trapping her inside a web of self hatred that she had fought so hard to get out of.

“Seriously?” Eris said incredulously, eyebrows raised. He shifted so he was facing Nesta, and he took her still trembling hands in his own. “Tell me, what criminal, abhorrent offence have you committed to warrant being treated like shit and locked up?”

Nesta’s throat was dry. “I didn’t try and help my family like Feyre did when we were in poverty.”

Eris shook his head. “You are the eldest daughter, not the parent. It was not your responsibility to provide for your family.”

“I was mean to Feyre on several occasions.”

“You’re sisters, that’s supposed to happen. You should hear the vicious things my brothers and I say to each other.”

“I spent a ton of Rhys’s money on alcohol, drinking myself stupid every night.”

“Please, that male has more money than anyone I know, my dear. I assure you his bank account was not dented in the slightest.”

“I slept my way through the city after the war.”

“Everyone in that little Inner Circle has fucked more fae than anyone I know. Your number is nothing compared to theirs.” Eris said calmly. “All I’m hearing is that a newly turned fae female was traumatised after being dragged into a brutal war she did not ask for, and found unhealthy yet very normal ways of coping. So tell me again, what actual horrid thing have you done to deserve any of this?”

Tears filled Nesta’s eyes as she listed her sins, the crackling of the fire fading into the background. She knew Eris was right, his logical mind soothing her anxious one. Talking about it with Eris was different than talking about it with you. You had been just as angry as Nesta had, forced into the same situation as her and kept in the House of Wind against your will, the Inner Circle using the fact that they had saved both your lives as leverage to make you do what they wanted. You were someone who Nesta could rant to about it and get angry, letting that hatred she felt out to someone who knew exactly what she meant. But Eris was different. He rationalised her thoughts, providing a different kind of reassurance.

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nesta bit her wobbling lip, trying to keep more from spilling out. Eris released one of her hands, bringing it up to her face and gently brushing the tears away. “They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they?” He murmured softly, cupping her cheek. “What are you thinking right now, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta inhaled deeply, pressing her face slightly harder into Eris’s warm hand. The smell of smoke and forest engulfing her senses. “That I am scared,” She admitted. “For so many reasons. I am scared that Cassian will find me and steal me back to Velaris. That everything we’ve done has all been for nothing. I’m scared that your father will find us out somehow and kill us all. I’m scared for (Y/N) and her engagement to your awful brother. And I hate myself, Eris. I hate myself for who I’ve become not just because I am now fae, but because the person I was before the Cauldron would not have given in and trained with Cassian. I… I am afraid that with this new immortality ahead of me I will not recognize the girl I used to be, and not in a good way. I hate that I have let the words of people who barely know me cut this deeply, and I am ashamed of it.”

Eris continued to use his thumb to brush away the fresh tears on her cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have had a difficult hand dealt to you, Nesta.” Eris said softly. “And they should have known better. Do not be ashamed. For anything. Just know you have (Y/N), just as you have me. We will not let the Night Court take you, I swear on my mother’s life. Your mate cares for you, and I… I care for you, too.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but a strange sensation in her chest stopped her. It suddenly felt like she was falling through space, the stars overhead spinning around her as she plummeted towards a strange light. She gasped, and felt Eris tense up as well. In her mind, she saw her silver flames dancing towards orange ones. They intertwined, braiding together and forming a magical rope-like appearance. Nesta reached down in her mind, her heartbeat racing as she grabbed a hold of it. She peered down to where the flames had extended to, seeing a flaming silhouette on the other end, her silver flames surrounding it affectionately.

And so she reached forward, extending a mental hand into that flaming silhouette.

And Eris gasped.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, and she lurched back from the Autumn Prince’s touch. Eris’s face was ghostly pale, and he was panting as if he had just fought off a hundred soldiers at once. Athariel hissed behind her, not happy to be awoken by the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry. She had felt this feeling before, but with you. That flaming rope she had followed felt the same as the pull of the tattoo on her sternum.

The mating bond.

The flaming silhouette at the other end of the magical rope was Eris Vanserra. Nesta’s mind reeled, her body threatening to combust with the feeling inside her chest. She could only stare at the male before her in shock.

Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours. Your words rang in Nesta’s head like a bell, making her feel dizzy. No, she thought. This isn’t possible. You were her mate, how could this happen? There was still that strange feeling in her chest from Cassian, which confused her even more. The feeling of one mating bond within her was overwhelming enough, but two? Nesta didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Eris…” His voice was like a prayer on her lips, sounding completely different than the previous hundred times she had said it. It was like a song, carrying over to the shaken autumn prince and snapping him out of his trance.

“Nesta.” Her blood sang at the sound of her name, silver flames sparking from her fingertips in response.

“Like calls to like…” She muttered, recalling Eris’s repetition of the phrase. And then it dawned on her. Eris had consistently told her that like calls to like, and she had thought he was talking about their similarities in magic.

Fury rose within her, drowning out everything else. “Did you know?” She hissed at Eris.

The male’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered. “I–”

“Did you fucking know?” Nesta growled. “Is this the only reason you agreed to help us? So you could use the bond to trap me. Is that what you wanted? To keep me prisoner here, just like your father did to your mother?”

Eris blanched, flinching like he had been struck. Nesta felt it, the blow of her words, as if she had been punched in the chest. “I swear, I did not know.” Eris pleaded. “Nesta, please, you have to trust me. I had no idea about this.”

Nesta rose to her feet, her entire body shaking. She climbed onto Athariel’s back, nudging the dragon forward with her heels. Athariel grumbled, but got to her feet and began to crawl out of the cave. Her hands shook as she held onto the dragon’s horns. She stared down at Eris, who appeared paralyzed in shock as he looked up at her. Nesta’s voice was cold as ice as she said, “I don’t believe you.”

And as Athariel spread her wings and took to the sky, Nesta had not noticed the fire had gone out completely.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-9 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @

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neos127 · 1 year ago

Text

DIE FOR YOU — SIM JAEYUN (chapter six)

spider-man!jake x fem!reader; synopsis. university student and daily bugle intern jake sim does his best to juggle having two separate lives. unfortunately y/n, who also interns at the daily bugle, is obsessed with finding out who the popular vigilante ‘spider-man’ is. with their constant close proximity and jake’s new found crush, y/n is closer to figuring out his secret identity by the day.

you lived in new york, you were no stranger to the amount of ‘villains of the week’ and structure collapses that happened weekly or even daily. but for once, you hoped that a night out with new friends wouldn’t be crushed by something so simple as the roller coaster not being intact. it was then you suddenly remembered hearing about a small scale villain trying to disrupt the ride in order to bring out spider-man. it seemed as if he succeeded (only a week later), and you wished you had remembered that before getting on the ride.

your life flashed before your eyes and jake surely wanted to end his. how could this possibly happen? he was out in the open with no way to sneak away unseen.

jake grabbed your hand tightly as the carts began to inch more and more off the rails. he knew that he would survive the fall, he’s sure he’s survived worse, but you wouldn’t and jake couldn’t let you die.

“oh fuck!” you yelled out as the carts moved even more, dangling over the the broken railing. you were practically dangling over the ground and if the carts moved even more, it might finally break off and plummet.

“it’s gonna be okay.” jake choked out, putting a arm across your chest to keep you from slipping out. you would’ve found the action endearing if it weren’t for the fact that you were possibly about to plummet ten stories.

“oh my gosh are we gonna die?” you asked, which sounded stupid given the circumstances but you were truly terrified. despite reading about all of the people who unfortunately died or nearly died due to something going wrong in the city, you had been lucky. no unnecessary run ins with crazy villains made you feel a bit invincible— but obviously that wasn’t the case.

“no, I won’t let anything happen to you.” jake replied, causing your to whip your head towards him. you were about to screech at him, asking what the hell he would do considering that you were seated next to each other in the same compromising position.

before you could open your mouth, you felt something almost slimey crawling around your body. it was black and looked like goo, but it was firm as it wrapped around your body and lifted you out of the cart. jake’s eyes widened as he reached out to grab you, but the same began to happen to him. the boy panicked, sure that someone was out to get him (well, spider-man since his identity was a secret) and was trying to draw him out.

but when the alien goop set the two on the ground safely, jake realized that it was actually long arms and they were attached to a person. at least, he assumed it was a person. the ‘suit’ of the entity looked similar to spider-man’s, but with the colors black and white. their arms could extend and retract and jake was sure that they couldn’t be from earth. he knew that he had to be cautious though, and he planned to look out for the mysterious person when he went on his patrols. jake wanted to make sure that this alien had good intentions.

“y/n! oh my gosh!” moka yelled, running over to you. she engulfed you into a hug and wonyoung followed closely behind. the two girls, along with jungwon, sunoo and heeseung, had decided to go win prizes instead of getting on the rollercoaster. riki had joined the two of you but took a cart by himself since there was only room for two people in one.

“wait, where’s riki?” sunoo asked, looking at the broken structure. jake paled as he followed sunoo’s gaze, wondering if his friend had gotten stuck…or worse. but the ride was empty and jake assumed that the mysterious hero had gotten everyone out.

“riki!” jake yelled out, about to move closer towards the rollercoaster before he finally spotted his friend. the tall boy seemed unbothered, hands in his pockets as he strolled towards the group.

“are you okay?” jake asked, his voice hoarse.

“oh yeah i’m fine, that um…black and white spider…man saved me.” he shrugged, a small smile on his face. the group all looked at him weirdly, wondering why he seemed so chill about the situation. even the ones on the ground were shaken up from witnessing everything.

“guys…it’s alright. i’ve had like, multiple near death experiences it doesn’t really phase me anymore.” he shrugged, throwing an arm around jake’s shoulders. you looked at him oddly but decided to let it go, shaking your head and running your hands over your face.

as the group began to exit coney island, having enough with the night and wanting dinner, jake pulled you aside to walk behind the group.

“are you okay?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your face.

“i’m alright, thank you for asking. are you okay?” you flashed him a smile, asking the same question. jake nodded before running a hand through his hair.

“yeah i’m okay…i just wish i could’ve done something.” he mumbled, pausing when he realized who he was talking to.

“don’t beat yourself up about it. there was nothing you could’ve done, we just got lucky that this new vigilante showed up.” you shrugged, playing with strings on your hoodie. jake nodded in fake agreeance, but he still felt terrible. the truth was, he could’ve done something. only his friends knew about jake’s secret identity and he didn’t intend on letting the world know.

he couldn’t let himself get in such a situation again, especially when you were in danger. if anything similar happened again, jake was positive that he would risk his life to keep you safe.

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taglist; @odxrilove @junityy @hittoki @jaklvbub @fariest @besuqueos @n1k1mura @k1ttylvr @francinethings23 @sakiimeo @serafilms @riksaes @dreamiestay @iluvkyo @wonunuwoo @jentlecoeur @greyminyoon1 @sincerelyrki @ilovejungwonandhaechan @vousty @frickyratz @supportstudies @roastandtoast @letwiiparkjay @jakeyverse @cafeyuns @keilovr @rosas-in-the-garden @wonxlvr @ilyjxdz

— ky’s notes; i took out people who i couldn’t tag! i’m so sorry idk why i can’t tag you guys! also— jake 100% deleted all his posts about y/n when she started following him lmao. also venom was introduced🙈 if you don’t know what venom is— he’s an alien that can basically attach himself to people but this will all be explained later!

#enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha smau #enha jake #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #sim jake x reader #sim jake imagines #sim jake fluff #sim jake smau

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