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pomefioredove · 8 months ago

Note

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rook hunt x reader #can't stop thinking of the logistics of this bc if rook and vil both liked the mc at the same time they would NEVER fight over it #rook would totally let vil go ahead and then either become vilyuu number one fan OR polycule OR be there to steal mc when vil fucks up #and alas polycule is probably the least likely because vil would Not Want to Share

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sunvylovebug · 4 months ago

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His everything

↬ Warnings: None! …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Gender Neutral!Reader and second person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬ Author Note: This is something I wrote back in 2022, I've changed and modified things to transform and improve it. Since Lycaon was so loved with what I wrote in Flowers I decided to write it about him, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated, thank you so much and please enjoy<3!

↬ Summary: He's so in love with you.

↬ Word Count: 670 Words

Lycaon thinks you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid eyes upon. Whenever you're near, he finds it increasingly difficult to maintain his usual professional demeanor, as your mere presence makes his pulse quicken and his composure falter, his cheeks would turn pink when seeing yours up while you have the biggest and prettiest smile on your face. His tail moves from side to side excitedly, his ears always alert to everything you have to say, if you noticed that, it would be so easy to realize that he's madly in love with you.

Lycaon knows, with absolute certainty, that you're the one for him, there's no way he's wrong about it. You are the butterfly he has been chasing, its delicate wings so breathtakingly lovely that all who behold it are left in awe.

You're beautiful, but you're more beautiful when you smile at children who ask you questions based on pure curiosity, you're beautiful when you have your hair combed with a small flower, and even with all the movement you do when moving from one side to the other, it doesn't fall and remains still in your hair, just as he remains by your side even though life has shaken him away so many times.

He wants to tell you that you're beautiful, so beautiful that you make his heart race like never before, so beautiful that he loves you so much. He is in awe of you, of how you manage to be both strong and gentle, both hardworking and graceful. You're his sun, his moon, his everything, the very reason he pushes himself to work harder each and every day. To be able to witness your radiance, to bask in your light, is the greatest gift he could ever receive.

He knows that you're everything he has ever wanted in life, so perfect, yes, you are perfect, and he wouldn't get tired of thinking that, you're perfect, you are what keeps him working so hard day after day, Lycaon is happy to be there to see you. Whether it is the first golden rays of dawn caressing your face or the soft, ethereal glow of the moon enveloping you, he can tell you're a sight to behold.

You're the center of his universe, the one who makes his world spin. And he knows, with a certainty that fills his very soul, that he will never tire of marveling at your perfection, of cherishing your beauty, of loving you with every single fiber of his being.

The rest of Victoria Housekeeping Co. tell him that he fell madly in love, they noticed the way he looks at you, his love was obvious, but he inevitably feels that you are a star, so far out of his reach, you're the brightest person, the first he has completely fallen in love with...

He's like a moth attracted to fire, he's attracted to you with all his heart, soul, all his being, and yes, the fire burns, but he would bear the pain just to be near this fire that is you. This love is something he never thought he would feel, but there he is, thinking that you're the most brilliant and most beautiful human being who ever lived.

He's in love, so in love with you that even if the days are dark for him, you make it bright with just your smile. He's in love, very much in love, he has become a fool fallen into this dark hole and you're the one who brought him here, but he doesn't feel bad about it, after all he always wanted to be in that place if it was because of you

You're a dream, or at least that's what he thinks, but when he sees you in front of him, you're no longer a dream, you're a reality that he has to face, but he loves it cause his reality is you and it's beautiful because it's you.

Perfect, you're perfect, too perfect to be true...

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jeun-bug · 10 days ago

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Had a hilarious idea so here’s brainrotting anon back again:

Tweet: “Overheard a student go up to MC and say ‘I need you to be a girl for a second’. MC looked down, grabbed her own tits, and said ‘do these not count for that? Does this mean I can go topless when I’m sweating my ass off in Jabberwock?!’ And *insert ghoul here* just slaps them upside the head”

(I personally think it’d be funny if it was Jin, who in one of the rare times he leaves his room overheard the honor student say that and is just like “wtf why do I want this dumbass again??”. Though Tohma, Sho, Ren, or Jiro are good candidates too. I just think a lot of the others who try to lecture them out of it, would try to egg it on as teasing flirting, would try to genuinely-ish encourage it for the chaos, or just wouldn’t care.)

HAHAHAH you’re totally right. I think alan would put his hand on top of the inspector’s head and just like…. roughly ruffle their hair, yk?

my MC is gender neutral, but i can absolutely see this going down with a female-bodied MC

this got surprisingly long lolol more hc’s under the cut <3

kaito would flip out 😭😭 he’s rapidly moving between “HOW DARE YOU IMPLY THAT THE HONOR STUDENT ISNT A GIRL ALL THE TIME” and “INSPECTOR YOU CANT JUST SHOW THOSE OFF TO ANYONE IM THE KNLY ONE ALLOWED TI SEE THEM ITS NAUGHTY TO SHOW THEM OFF IN PUBLIC”

romeo would also backhand them, sho would scoff and shove them away. leo would encourage it until he realizes it’s probably Not Great if his fake partner gets caught topless in public.

jiro wouldn’t care, he’s like “i see them topless all the time? it’s just boobs?”. yuri would blush so hard thinking about seeing the inspector’s chest in a non-medical scenario that he nearly passes out.

i feel like rui and haku would get lowkey defensive but try to play it off as flirting like “um hey hello??? you can’t just show those off those are my eyes only???” LMAO

ren and zenji would shout at them for considering it 😭 imagine zenji “MY DEAR!!! YOUR BODY IS A TEMPLE, YOU CANNOT ALLOW THOSE WHO ARE UNWORTHY (everyone besides me) TO LAY THEIR EYES UPON YOUR BEAUTIFUL FORM!!!!!”

lyca and ed wouldn’t care i think. ed would get flirty about it lolol

poor subaru would be bright red and desperately trying to navigate discouraging it AND being polite and not overstepping lmao “well…. um, i mean- i don’t mean to overstep or anything…. it’s just…. that sort of thing is…. of course, it’s ultimately your choice…. but….” 😭😭

taiga would lose it and actively encourage them to take their top off NOW like “ cmon inspector you said it. it would be so funny cmon “

haru gasps, affronted, and covers peekaboo’s ears, “inSPECtor!!! if it’s that hot, i’ll buy you a portable fan!!!! there is no need for that!!!!!!!”

ritsu would lecture the GA student about harassment laws and then turn around and lecture the inspector about public nudity laws.

if it’s said around towa, jabberwock park doesn’t know a single day of peaceful weather for a week, after which the GA student mysteriously goes missing lolol

you’re totally right about jin 😭 he’s like “if this is what you’re getting up to when i leave you alone, i’ll just have to start following you around everywhere to keep you out of trouble.” and everyone besides the MC immediately realizes he’s just trying to find excuses to spend time with them.

tohma and luca would both lecture the inspector about it, but tohma would be lowkey laughing to whole time LMAO he’s like “that’s incredibly improper, inspector. if you’re going to work so closely with frostheim, i must ask that you do your best to maintain a respectable image” but he’s just a shit eating grin on his face bc he’s truly a vagastrom boy at heart LMAOO

#bro i forgot to add tags when i posted this #tdb #tokyo debunker #jeunib’s inbox

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freakspectors · 1 year ago

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HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 5 - COLLARING.

A Jouno Saigiku | BSD x Gender-Neutral Reader Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , collaring , brat taming , oral (m. receiving) , blow jobs, facefucking , mean dom jouno nation #realness , etc .

author’s note ; HEY THEREEEE HEY THERE YOU HEY THEREEE!!! ^_^ okay so minor set back… my computer’s charger is a eensie weensie bit broken, and i may or may not be grounded so.. catching up on kinktober might take a minute. BUT WE’RE GETTING THERE.. ISH…. anyways go shoo shoo enjoy!

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Humiliating.

That’s the only thing you could label your predicament as. If only you weren’t such a brat, maybe Jouno would’ve been nicer. But when is he ever? In his own defense, you were always acting out to pull a reaction from him. You can’t get mad at him over your own actions. But god, your disobedience always ended up making you feel good.

Your mouth was stuffed with the blind king’s cock, choking and gagging as he yanked you up and down by the chain of your collar. It was gorgeous; a simple deep, sensual shade of red leather and a golden name tag with the word ‘Slut’ etched onto it. Perfect for a whore like you, was it not? Saliva and cum coated his cock, the bitter, salty taste bound to stay in your mouth for hours — maybe even days to come. Jouno leaned back into the chair of the empty Hunting Dogs meeting room, sadistically chuckling at your increasing heartbeat and the stench of sweat.

“Enjoying our punishment, are we?” Saigiku teased, a condescending smirk on his face, a faint blush on his cheeks. A muffled hum of affirmation leaves your throat vibrating around his sensitive cock. The white-haired man shoves your head down on his length, whimpering as he throws his head back in pleasure. “Careful now, Darling. You don’t want us to be caught, now do you?”

Shutting your eyes tight and clenching your fist to maintain your removed gag reflex, you swirl your tongue around his tip, a non-verbal indication of ‘no’. Jouno moans, bucking his hips up into your maw. “Then keep sucking like the fucking slut you are. You wanted this, am I not mistaken?”

From that point further, Jouno completely disregarded you as a human being. You were his personal fleshlight to use to his heart's content, and until he came, you will stay in that role. Jouno lifted you up by the collar and slammed you back down, his pace ruthless as used your throat like a simple hole to fuck into. His eyes were screwed shut, whimpering after each time you strained around his thick dick. Your jaw cramped, the feeling all too much for you. It wasn’t long until the soldier twitched inside your mouth, cursing as he bullied himself into your throat.

“Listen here, bitch, and listen well,” Jouno groaned, his pace becoming sloppier by the second, “You are gonna take every single drop I spill inside of you, and I don’t want anything spilling out of that adorable mouth. Do I make myself clear?”

You couldn’t even choke out your reply before a copious amount of semen spilled into your mouth, filling you like a twinkie. Garbling, you take everything in, just as Jouno requested. But there was one thing you seemed to forget:

Jouno was cruel.

Jouno quickly pulled out of your mouth, forcing a small amount of his seed out of your mouth and onto your chin. You tried to wipe it up, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell. He couldn’t; he’s blind — right?

Wrong. Oh, so terribly wrong. Jouno smiled, shaking his head in disappointment and clicking his tongue against his teeth.

“So disobedient.. A shame, truly. Just when I planned on giving you a reward, too. Oh well, then. Stand up and bend over, Dear. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

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excuse me, could i get a picture?

pairing: (tasm!) peter parker x gender neutral reader

summary: "hey, i'm a street photographer, could i take your picture?"

masterlist | requests are open!

buy me a ko-fi!

warning i wrote 80% of this half-asleep

read part two here

Saturdays were reserved for coffees and walks to get breakfast. They were reserved for earbuds in your ears, music blasting as your feet rushed through busy intersections. Although Saturdays were reserved for yourself, that didn't stop New York from moving around you.

"Excuse me!" You thought you heard, but the voice was barely audible over the music in your ears; plus, there was no reason for anyone to be talking to you.

The rush of footsteps behind you made your footfall slow in confusion, and a gentle tap on your shoulder made you spin.

"Sorry," a boy began, and you let him keep speaking as you looked at him.

He was tall, cozy in double jackets with a large camera hanging around his neck. He had brown hair and warm brown eyes to match, looking at you with a polite smile and his phone in his hand, pointing down towards the ground.

"Hi, uh, I'm sorry to bother you," he spoke awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot and doing his best to look at your face. "I'm uh, a photographer -" and the way he said it made you smile, like the word was too serious for an unserious person. "And I was wondering if I could... take photos of you?" He finished with a tilt of his head and a shy smile.

Oh, he was cute.

"Of me?" You ask, sure you'd misheard. Your hands went to pull your earbud out of your ear, only to find that it was already out. Your hand landed on your neck to save yourself from embarrassment.

"Yeah!" His expression brightened at your lack of immediate rejection, eyes more confidently settling on yours with the occasional flicker to the camera hanging around his neck. His head tilted down, expertly? picking up the camera and stepping closer to you while maintaining a respectful distance, showing you strangers on the small screen.

The photos were absolutely beautiful.

"I wanted to focus on natural beauty... the leaves are perfect right now - " His eyes looked up and around as the shades of autumn began to fall around you on the out-of-the-way street you were on, lined with apartments. There was a brightness in his eyes as they fell on you again and you realized he had been talking. " - and you, of course."

"Me?" You asked again, feeling stupidly like an owl, wide-eyed and unbelieving.

"Yeah!" He bit his lip through a smile, a pink blush appearing on his pale cheeks, a nervous shift in his demeanor revealing he was only a few seconds away from backpedaling.

You looked around at the empty street and stepped a little closer with a smile. "Well, since there's no one else, I guess I'll do you the favor," you grinned teasingly.

"Cool. Awesome," he looked down, shaking his head a little. "Is it okay if I film, too?" He motioned to his phone and you nodded with a smile.

You self-consciously tried to touch yourself up as the boy turned his back toward you, setting his his things up. God, you didn't even know his name.

"You never told me your name," you noted softly, not expecting him to perk up at the sound of your voice and turn towards you.

"Oh! It's Peter!" Peter gave you a dopey grin you couldn't help but mirror as you gave him your name in return.

Peter messed with his camera, flickering from the screen to you with his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out of his lips in concentration.

You weren't sure if the nerves in your stomach were from the camera pointed at you or the boy behind it, but you bit your lip and tried to look anywhere but at Peter.

"I should warn you, I suck at posing," you managed to get out when the silence was almost too much. You weren't sure whether to feel bad about breaking Peter's concentration until he laughed and shook his head.

"You'll be fine."

You weren't certain about that, but Peter's tone and his soft smile made you believe it for a while.

"Okay, for the first one, I think you'd look great right against this door..."

Peter guided you gently with his voice and his motioning hands until the sun hit you perfectly through the thinning leaves, lighting you and the red door you stood against perfectly.

You tried to follow Peter's easygoing instructions of just "acting natural" but the half-smiled he offered and look in his eyes told you weren't getting very far.

"Sorry," you winced, embarrassed for yourself.

"No, no, you don't have to apologize," Peter assured, dropping his camera and approaching you. "Here, just... may I?" Peter looked at you with a gentleness that knocked the words out of your lips. You could only give a small nod and Peter put his hands on you, feather-light touch moving your arms like you were a porcelain doll Peter cared deeply about. His fingers found yours as he positioned your hands and you could only stand there and admire his attention to detail, his mind coming up with a bigger picture you couldn't see quite yet.

"You should model more often," Peter said, stepping back just enough to be out of your personal space - but just close enough for you to see all the beauty marks on his face.

You scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious! It'd be a crime if you didn't."

"Maybe I'll just model for you, then," you said rather boldly, turning your head to the side in embarrassment, missing the small smile and twinge of red of Peter's ears at your comment.

"Perfect," Peter muttered and you turned back to see his face partially hidden by his camera - you weren't sure how long he'd been snapping photos for.

You laughed and Peter grinned, fingers pressing buttons rapidly as he held you in light conversation.

There was a permanent warmth in your face you hoped wasn't obvious through the camera, the feeling shielding you from the cool wind blowing around you.

Your focus was only on Peter, listening closely to every word and story he shared with you: his favorite coffee shop in the area, his photography, the people he'd met through it. None of the connections lasted longer than the session and you wondered if it'd be the same for you - if Peter was always this kind to the strangers he took photos of.

After a small shift to the stairs in front of the door you stood in front of and a lot of wondering how many photos of you were filling up Peter's camera, Peter took a seat next to you, his knee bumping yours as he leaned towards you, clicking through pictures.

"Woah..." you said softly, finally seeing the vision Peter had in his head. The scene was set up beautifully, with your fluid movement at its center.

"You like them?" Peter asked hopefully, wishing he could take another picture of the moment.

"I love them!" You exclaimed as Peter continued moving through the dozens of photos, shot after shot of you.

You felt that warm rush of embarrassment again and you placed a gentle hand on Peter's arm.

"Okay, okay," you laughed, looking at Peter's face. Realizing how closely huddled you were.

"You're a great photographer," you uttered softly with a smile to accompany the compliment.

"You're a perfect model," Peter returned just as quickly.

You laughed, shaking your head as Peter tried to argue. "I'm serious!" But the smile on your face was contagious and Peter couldn't help but smile around you.

There was a beep from Peter's phone, still off to the side and recording, and Peter jumped up at the noise.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go," Peter rushed out, grabbing his things and giving you a smile. "I'll text you... send you the photos."

"Yeah!" You nodded, barely able to give him a wave before he was off. Barely able to think about it before realizing he didn't have your number. "Peter!" You called, but he was gone.

「 … 」

Finding Peter on social media was a lot harder than you'd imagined, especially when both of you had stupidly excluded last names from your introductions. All you had was "peter photographer," which evidently didn't count for much.

You gave up that same day and it wasn't until two weeks later and the help of your friend that you found him again.

The video you were sent was it: Peter walking up to you for the first time, the two of you talking, you posing, the two of you reacting to the photos and finally, the photos themselves. They were just as beautiful as you remembered.

The clips themselves were short, only a few highlights of your conversation in the video; times where you made Peter laugh, or the other way around.

In retrospect, the words exchanged between you and Peter with charged with some other than just friendly, polite conversation and you really wondered now if it was all just in your head.

Although that worry diminished with a look at the caption of Peter's video.

watch me shamelessly flirt for a minute and a half

A stupid smile spread on your face at the handful of words and your first instinct was to check the comments.

"they're so into each other omfg" "they flirt so much and a majority of their convo was probably cut out........" "peter please tell us you got an @" Now this one had a reply from Peter himself.

"no i had to leave in a rush and didn't realize i had no method of contact until later :(" "PETER YOU FUMBLED" "NOOOOOO"

There were more cries of disbelief in response to Peter with even more calls of action to find you.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, fingers moving quickly and your heart beating just as fast as you swiped to Peter's profile and hopefully... yes! His Instagram was linked.

You followed him instantly, clicking on the Message button before hesitating. Would he recognize you? Would he even respond? What should you say?

You bit your lip and drafted a few messages, typing and deleting and pacing until you settled on a message.

"hey. it's me from kips bay! i saw ur tiktok :)"

Send.

You threw your phone across your bed immediately, nerves settling in now that you had nothing to do but wait. You didn't have to consider unsending the message for too long when you phone dinged.

"ppparker: Oh my god hi" "ppparker: Sorry i can't believe i actually found you" "ppparker: Hi :)"

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ixnehce · 18 days ago

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"In My Seat"

ft. tom riddle

SYNOPSIS: tom finds his usual library seat taken by a stranger, setting off a series of encounters that disrupt his carefully maintained routine

wc 850ish, gender neutral reader, sassy tom lmao, maybe a little bit ooc i tried my best... written in 3rd person from tom's perspective! english isn't my native language if you see mistakes tell me pls 🙏🙏

Tom enters the library, strides steady and purposeful, following a familiar path to his usual seat. He does not care for change, does not care for anything that might disrupt the perfectly routined life he has created for himself. There is a particular spot near the back of the library with just the right ratio of natural to artificial lighting. Not to mention it was quiet - almost no one goes near. It’s perfect.

But today, as he approaches the seat, his steps come to a halt. There, right there in his spot, was someone else. A stranger, oblivious to the fact that they are completely violating his unofficial territory, peacefully writing in a notebook.

He stares for a moment, silently willing them to sense his presence and move. But of course, no such thing happens. They are completely absorbed in what they are writing, not even looking up to breathe. With a resigned sigh, Tom chooses the next best spot a bit further down the table.

With more force than necessary, Tom slams his books onto the table, creating a small noise. It was enough to startle the stranger out of their reverie. But they only shoot him a curious, fleeting smile before burying their head back into their notes without a second thought.

He feels his mood sour with each passing second. That was his spot. He can’t focus now, as the sounds of quill scratching paper, pages being flipped, and slight shuffling suddenly became amplified to him.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore.

“You’re in my seat.” he blurts blankly, staring at the stranger. They look up, startled.

“... I’m sorry?”

Tom huffs. “My seat. You’re sitting in my seat.”

The stranger quirks an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware there were seating arrangements in this library.”

“I always sit in that seat.” he explains, as patiently as he can.

The stranger huffs out what sounds like a laugh, before scooting their chair a bit to the left. “Right. Wouldn’t want to mess with tradition. Come here then, there’s plenty of space for the both of us.”

Tom feels his irritation spike. Plenty of space? Don’t make me laugh, he thinks. He wasn’t exactly looking for company, but he supposes he’ll have to take what he can get.

“... fine.” he relents, standing up to move next to the stranger.

He watches them from the corner of his eye, unimpressed with their messy, scrawled notes, the colorful sticky tabs that seem to serve no logical purpose. And yet despite himself, he found his attention drifting back to them, as if part of him needed to study them, understand why they could sit there so comfortably, like they belong anywhere they pleased. They don’t belong here.

“Do you always study here?” the stranger asks, their voice soft but clear, jolting him from his thoughts.

He scowls slightly, irritated by the interruption. “What does it matter to you?”

They shrug, undeterred by his coldness. “Just curious. It seems like you’re a... routine kind of person.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” he asks, his tone edged with disdain.

“No.” the stranger leans back to stretch. “I just find it interesting. I’ve never been one to stick to one place. I think it keeps it interesting.”

Tom rolls his eyes, not even bothering to hide his irritation. “Is that something I should care about?”

The stranger let out a quiet, genuine laugh, as if they found his sarcasm funny rather than off-putting. “Maybe not. Take my words how you want.”

A quiet silence settles back over them. Tom pretends to be absorbed in his book, and yet he couldn’t help but notice the fascinating stranger beside him. The way they were so unlike him, with their easy-going nature, messy notes, the utter lack of the elegance he holds in such high regard. It pisses him off, but what pisses him off more is the way he wants to know more - wants to know how a person could be so different from him.

He keeps stealing glances, ears trained on their every movement. Tom finds himself wondering why they’d taken his seat so easily, why they’re so unbothered by his irritation. Most people would have moved by now, but this person seems indifferent to his icy demeanor.

Finally, they stand to leave. As they gather their things into their bag, the stranger turns to him, giving a small nod. “See you around, maybe?”

He stares at them, the automatic disdain rising in his chest again, but this time, it doesn’t come out in words. He gives the smallest of nods, feeling a confusing sense of satisfaction at the thought. “Maybe,” he says, his voice a low murmur.

They smile, and for a brief moment, he feels the chill of his usual disdain soften, just slightly, into something else. An almost grudging acceptance. As they walk away, he sits in his usual spot, and the quiet returns to the library. He opens his book again, but his mind is already wandering, his gaze occasionally flicking to the door where they’d left.

an: this was my first post! feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated, thank you for reading!!

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bbyquokka · 8 months ago

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1:30 pm (lmh)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | lee minho x gender-neutral reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | lovers to friends, timestamp, suggestive – 18+ is strongly advised!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | lots of kissing, grinding, love bites, reader and minho are desperate (aka horny) for one another

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 | 0.9k ~ (923)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 | song inspiration for this lil piece below ! i hope u all enjoy ‹3 tysm for reading !! ‹3‹3

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

bodies pressing against each other. hands tangling in each other's hair. your fingers rake along his scalp whilst he tangles the strands of your hair around his fingers.

heavy pants and moans swallowed by one another. the desperation for more kicking in slowly but surely. you both pull apart for a brief second to allow oxygen to enter your lungs.

minho’s kiss bitten lips attaching themselves to yours once again giving you little to no time to gather your thoughts. the small space of the closet makes you both feel small and claustrophobic. the heavy bass of the music outside ringing in your ears.

all you care about is him. the man that is currently taking your breath away. his hands slide down your sides to hold your waist where he soothes and strokes you from over your clothing.

his body is pressing against you. his chest against yours, one leg between yours to keep your legs parted as you hover over his strong thigh. you grip onto his shirt, hot breath mixing together with saliva.

skin hot and sticky. the air is humid and suffocating from the small space. your heart thumping so heavy and hard, it rings in your ears and drowns out the background noise.

minho's hands dip under your clothing. his hot yet soothing and gentle fingers caress the skin of your sides causing goose bumps to rise to the skin.

it makes him chuckle. it makes him love that he still has that effect on you. his head tilts to the side to allow himself to deepen the kiss even more. his tongue gliding along your swollen bottom lip. as you part your lips to allow entrance for him, he pulls away slightly to speak

“missed you.” he mumbles against your lips. you whimper softly, unable to speak because he doesn't give you a chance. he takes advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue past them to meet your own wet and hot muscle. they both collide and tangle, a battle for dominance which you loose. minho swallows every breath moan, every drop of saliva that spills from your lips.

to him, its like honey. you taste and sound so sweet to him. it makes him tingle with excitement and adrenaline to pump through his veins. his shaky hands move from your waist to the small of your back where he pulls you even closer to him.

you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. since the break up (which was on healthy terms), you've missed him more than ever.

right person, wrong time. the stars were just not quite aligned back then. both of you have different aspirations and goals. the beginning of the relationship was good but once the honeymoon period was over, you both found yourselves fighting over anything and everything due to stress and the pressure to maintain the healthy relationship, so when it turned unhealthy, you both mutually agreed to break up.

you'd rather have him as a friend and still in your life than not at all. the same applies to minho.

“minho..” you gasp as you feel his lips peppering soft and gentle kisses on your neck. he sucks and gently bites the skin, leaving small love bites. his crotch now pressing against you which allows you to feel how excited he is for you.

and if that was enough of a tell-tale sign, he slowly starts to rub himself against you.

“‘m sorry yn. it's been a while and i’ve missed you so much.” his hot breath fans against your hot skin, making you feel shivers.

he vowed to never get attached to you. he promised himself but one touch, one kiss was all it took for him to fall deep in love with you. you're all he ever thinks about. after the break up, he thought he'd be able to spend more time focusing on his dreams and goals but instead, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you causing him to become severely distracted and desperate for you.

he slowly grinds and rubs against you. his head dipping and forehead resting on your shoulder as he pants heavily and desperately. like an animal in heat, he grips onto your waist with a small amount of force and his moans soon turn deep, long and frequent as he fluidly lets them slip past his lips.

you grip onto his clothing, desperation kicking in for the both of you as you grind and rub against one another. you match one another's tempo, moans mixing together and becoming one. minho kicks his head back a little, exposing his neck to you as his eyes flutter shut and lips part, hair sticking to his forehead and back of his neck.

“yn.. fuck, yn.” he moans softly. you close your eyes slowly, lips parting as you allow the pleasure to rush through your veins like adrenaline.

his touch, his sounds. it's all making you feel tingles. his nimble fingers that's caressing your skin is setting your skin on fire. his moans ring in your ears. the butterflies fluttering in your stomach make you feel giddy but also nauseous. everything about minho right now is making you feel dizzy. but strangely, you've missed these feeling.

as you open your mouth to speak, to beg and ask for more, to take this elsewhere due to the intense amount of lust and desire you both have, you're rudely interrupted by a knock on the closet door.

“five minutes is over!”

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wowcatboys · 1 year ago

Note

hiii heheh, i just got into heartsteel recently and i’d love some sett kissing headcanons! (like the ones you wrote for kayn!!) ( ^ω^ )

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL SETT / READER: KISSES ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW, NSFW under bold header ♡TW: Sexual Content

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

SETT

Whenever Sett hasn't seen you for awhile, (which happens far, far too often, owing to his packed Heartsteel schedule) he greets you with a huge, dramatic kiss. "Awww," he grins, "there's my favorite person!" He drops his bag to scoop you up in his arms, squishing you in a giant hug. No sooner than he puts you down is his mouth on yours, telling you how much he missed you in a way that words can't. It always lasts a minimum of five seconds and always makes you a little jelly-in-the-knees.

If you ask Sett his favorite place to kiss you, he rolls his eyes. "Awww, c'mon baby, you can't make me pick just one," he groans playfully, emphasizing his point by tugging you in and smattering kisses around your face. But really? He does have a favorite spot, and it's your forehead. Sett loves to slip his hands under your jaw, tilting your head up towards him. He brushes his lips across the smooth patch of skin just above your eyebrows. Sett lingers there for a moment. He basks in your soft warmth and closeness, rubbing tender circles over your cheekbones. Normally, he swipes a quick kiss over your lips before he pulls away (might as well make a pit stop while he's down there, right?).

Sett doesn't have an extraordinarily specific taste, but sometimes his mouth is a little sweet from the last pre-workout drink or protein shake he's had.

When he's kissing you, Sett's hands don't wander much. He keeps a gentle but firm grasp on your waist, or he's got one hand on your hip and one at the nape of your neck. If you let him, he tangles his fingers in your hair—if not, though, no biggie. He just keep his hand on the column of your neck, softly pressing you closer so he can devour your delicious lips.

Even though he wraps his fists, Sett still scuffs his knuckles up from frequent one-on-ones with a punching bag. He loves when you speckle soft-lipped kisses across his aching, split knuckles. "Thanks, hun," he hums, giving you a lovesick look that he reserves only for you. "I'm gonna be back to a hundred percent in no time."

Sett doesn't mind PDA. If you want a kiss then you're getting a kiss, who cares where you are or who sees? Picking him up from the gym? Cute (albeit sweaty) kiss in front of his gym bros. Hanging out backstage at a performance? Good luck kiss, even though he's quite aware it breaks the hearts of any groupies that might catch a glance. You're crashing Heartsteel's game night and Aphelios is kicking your ass in Super Smash Bros? Bet on a consolation kiss, even though Kayn makes a face and does an exaggerated 'eeewwww'. Sett just laughs and kisses you harder.

That being said, Sett will never give you a steamy kiss in front of his mom. You're getting a light peck at best. He's trying hard to maintain that Good Boy image for her. Plus, he just thinks it's a bit more respectful to you, as well—spending time with someone's parents can be nerve-wracking at the best of times, so he figures it's probably better not to embarrass you by shoving his tongue down your throat during family dinner.

Sett's a human space heater, which means his lips are always warm. If you're chilly, kissing Sett is a great way to get some feeling back in your numb-cold cheeks. His body heat and warm mouth will have you thawing out in no time!

Sleepy, cuddly kisses are a staple with Sett. He likes his naps and he loves to snuggle, which means you end up trapped as his little spoon pretty often. If you try to wriggle free he half-wakes-up, murmuring a little "hmm?" before nuzzling into your neck and falling right back asleep. Plan on being there for awhile if your dozes off on you. And, when he does finally wake up? Sett is not above bribing you to stay in bed with kisses. "Awwwww, c'monnnnnnn," he groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. "Ten more minutes. Please?" If you say no, he goes in for the kill. He starts at the junction of your shoulder and neck and works up from there, peppering kisses across all of your most ticklish spots. "Please?" He begs. "Please please?" Sett finds your lips before long, quickly deepening an innocent smooch into something languid—licking lazy patterns into your mouth, strong hands massaging slow circles into your skin. He relaxes you until you're basically boneless, melting into his touch. "Fine," you relent, and he hums with contentment. "Nice," he murmurs. He's back asleep before you even have time to adjust.

Sett's almost-unfair height is a bit tough to navigate when trying to kiss him. Luckily, though, there's a few workarounds. He's always wearing a necklace or chain, which is a great way to pull him down to your level and reach his mouth. And, considering he's constantly trying to "subtly" show you how strong he is, Sett's eager to lift you up for a kiss. He slides his massive arms around your waist and picks you up without breaking a sweat, holding you to his lips until you break away, breathless and giggling.

NSFW

If neither of those methods are to your taste, you can always straddle Sett. This works best, honestly. Both of you can settle in to make out comfortably, with your thighs squishing his waist and his hands spread out across your ass. Perfect. The only drawback? This position almost always leads to sex. You can't help it! How are you supposed to keep from jumping his bones when he's sitting underneath you, letting out those precious moans whenever your teeth pinch his spit-shiny bottom lip? And as for Sett, how can he not tear your shirt off if you're scraping your nails against his scalp, looking down at him with those bedroom eyes?

Sett absolutely loves french kissing. If you go in for a kiss any longer than three seconds, you can bet you'll feel his tongue swiping across your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open for him.

Getting a little messy doesn't bother Sett in the slightest. Even with your cum dripping off his face he still wants to make out with you. He works his way into your mouth, savoring the way you shiver as you taste yourself on his tongue.

#Sett #Heartsteel Sett #heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #Sett LOL #sett league of legends #Sett x reader #Sett/reader

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mitch-the-silly · 10 months ago

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Hi! I'd love anything Husk related. My heart bleeds for this guy ♡

Drunk Husk confessions

Husk has a nightmare about lover and comfort

Husk can't find his crush after the extermination

His crush falls asleep on him during movie night with everyone

Any or all of them. Whatever you have time for. Thank you! ♡>.<♡

Hiiiii!! I cannot begin to express how much I love Husk, man. He's my favorite character in Hazbin (it's actually a tie between him and Vox bc Vox is so baby girl, but I digress). I'll gladly write for him any day!!!

I decided to do Scenarios about three of these (I sorta combined two of them because I liked the idea of Husk getting protective over his lover; you'll see o^o) because I just CANNOT get enough of this silly cat old man <3!!

Also, hope you don't mind I made this gender-neutral since no gender was specified! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

Warnings (just in case): Nightmares, emotional manipulation, buildings burning down, implied harm to a loved one, Alastor being a bit of an asshole.

Husk x gn!Reader

Scenarios!

Scenario 1: Drunk Confessions

It was very late, and you presumed that the hotel's bar was closed, but fuck it. You figured that sitting on the stool wouldn’t hurt. You couldn’t quite sleep but could anyone blame you? It’s not like they’d kick you back into your room. So you descended the stairs in hopes that the hotel lobby would be more inviting and lacking in boredom, unlike your current room. Now this boredom was not to be mistaken for a dislike for the room itself.

You made your way towards the bar area. Since the entire lobby was very dimly lit, you couldn’t see much, but only when you heard a noise from behind the bar, did you proceed with caution. The clanking of bottles alerted you but the moment you saw those white claws and that pair of red wings, you let your guard down. With a slight smile, you approached the bar, a chuckle escaping your lips.

Emerging from behind the counter, Husk stumbled a bit, clearly drunk out of his mind. Admittably, it was quite adorable to you. The dazed look he gave you.

He squinted and hicked, suddenly realizing who he was looking at. “Fuck, don’t… ya scare me like that…” He slurred as he leaned on the countertop.

“You’re fucking fried aren’t ya?” You chuckled at him.

Husk gazed at you, then looked down at his hands. Feeling himself get a bit dizzy, he let out a drunken laugh. “Y-yeah~” He spoke with a stupid little smirk.

You couldn’t take him seriously when he was drunk. But you culdn’t help but stay here with him. “So, what’s on your mind, Husk?” You asked him. You know, just for funsies.

“Honestly…” He slurred, pausing for about three seconds, “Right now… I was just thinkin’ right now... that there’s a cute person in front of me… and that I wanted to buy them a drink… but then… then I thought… ‘Fuck… I can’t buy ‘em a drink… I’m the mother funkin’ bartenda’!’ It fucking… it fucking pissed me off.” He dunkenly complained. His eyes looking up at you since you sat atop the stool and he didn’t. His pupils were extremely dilated and his gaze seemed like one of absolute adoration. But it could also be how drunk he was.

The mere implication of his complement made you blush, but you tried to keep your composure, “Why aren’t you bold?~” You chuckled at him. “If you weren’t so cute, I would be able to resist those Kitty eyes.~”

He pouted at your comment, “You’re a damn angel…” He slurred, after which he let out a stupid little giggle to himself.

“Oh, you’re the one witht he wings, baby~” You chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

He froze in place, his face red as a beet. His pupils dilated again and he involuntarily let out a purr at it. Reaction which (even while intoxicated) he hated. He drunkenly hit his chest as if scolding his body for reacting that way. ‘Stupid fucking… cat body…” He muttered, maintaining his slur.

You giggled at this; it was sure going to be a hell of a story to recount to him tomorrow.

Scenario 2: Husk has a nightmare about his lover + Comfort

It began with darkness. Of course, it did. Last he remembered was closing his eyes in some way. He was bound to be alright, he figured. But boy was he mistaken.

He was finally able to open his eyes. Before him, a fire had broken out. But it wasn’t just any arbitrary fire, the Hotel was on fire. It didn’t quite register in his mind just yet, but the building was violently burning down. Everyone around him was in a panic and he moved with them. But not by mandate of his body. It was as if he didn’t have control of himself. Just then, he snapped into consciousness, he began to think properly. He couldn’t find them. Where were they? His lover… He stopped at the hotel’s main entrance and instead of running out like everyone else did, he turned around immediately.

Running back inside, he called out their name at the top of his lungs. The smoke was engulfing him. And just as he was about to give up and assume you’d made your way to safety, he heard their cry for help. Not wasting a second, he ran from where he could hear it: the second floor. They were probably stuck up there. He had to save them. He just did.

He used his wings, flying up and landing on the very few unharmed spots of the blazing carpet. He called their name out again, he couldn’t find them and every second that passed in which he did not lay eyes on them, he grew more and more anxious. Finally, upon receiving a response to his frantic cries, he found you.

Before him not only was not only the love of his life but the person he held rancor for the most… Alastor. The Radio Demon held you in his grasp, dangling you over the fire. Laughing maniacly as he stared right into Husk’s eyes. With his most intimidating voice, the overlord spoke to him. “You should know much better than to defy me, Husker.~ You wouldn’t want your little darling to suffer the consequences of your transgressions, now would you?” He taunted. “You let go of them! My soul’s the one that’s yours, not theirs. You ain’t got no right to harm her!” Husk exclaimed.

Alastor laughed as if he’d heard a joke. It was obvious he didn’t take Husk’s words seriously. “You’re quite mistaken, my friend~. I can do as I please!” He responded.

The hotel burned brighter, and before Husk could say anything else, Alastor threw them into the fire. Husk tried to jump in to save them. But his body didn’t move. As much as he tried to move it, he wasn't in control of himself anymore.

Alastor cackled, “You belong to me, I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you the way things are!” He grasped at the air. Husk’s chains manifesting around his neck. They cut the airflow, and he clawed at the shackle on him. Desperately trying to breathe. He closed his eyes, still attempting to break himself free.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the ceiling of his room. He panted as he calmed down, feeling a gentle hand beside him. He turned to his side, his lover beside him. The second he realized they were safe and sound, he knew what he’d just witnessed was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.

“Husk, are you ok? Were you having a nightmare?” They asked him, reaching to caress his face. Without a second thought, Husk placed his face in their hand. The comfort of their touch significantly calmed him.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it… But… I’m glad you’re safe.” Husk muttered, reaching to plant a chaste kiss on their forehead.

His lover smiled, “Of course I’m safe. And hey, you don’t have to tell me anything… Just know I’m here for you, ok?” They mumbled, kissing his cheek in reciprocation.

“I… can I hold you…?” Husk asked, his voice a bit shaky. As if it was the only thing that would make him feel better.

“Of course…” They chuckled, a gentle smile on their face. Husk drew them closer to him. Holding them in his arms. There, right there was the one place he knew they’d be safe.

Scenario 3: Husk's crush falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night

If there was an activity everyone at the hotel loved to participate in was “Friday Night Movie Night”. Of course, it was something that had taken Charlie some time to establish, since she took a long time to filter out the movies she deemed went against the hotel’s goal, but alas, she made it happen.

So today was Friday, 7 pm hit and everyone knew exactly where to gather. The lobby was crowded (by the five employees and two guests) with souls waiting to relax after a week’s worth of work toward redemption. Angel set up a blanket, and in his pajamas, he lay down in front of the old TV (a spot he was willing to fight someone over). He held Fat Nuggets (a baby hell hog Angel loved like a child of his own) in his slim arms as he waited for the movie. It wasn’t his turn to pick the movie, so he didn’t care much what they watched. Nifty was often times very easily distracted, but she was willing to sit for a movie for sure (or at least half of one). Sir Pentious on the other hand, always sat through them, marveling at the videography of each film. As for Charlie and Vaggie, well, they always cuddled next to each other while they watched the movie. Most of the time it ended with Charlie falling asleep on Vaggie’s shoulder, or in the opposite scenario, with Vaggie lightly snoring on Charlie’s shoulder. As for old Alastor, well… let’s say he was more fond of other mediums of entertainment and chose not to join them. But there was one sinner who would always watch from the foot of the lobby’s couch: Husk. He’d normally end up falling asleep during movie night, but he had nowhere better to be, so he simply attended them without issue.

However, on this particular Friday, they had a newcomer. A new guest who despite having about three weeks in the hotel, hadn’t attended a movie night. They swore it was never out of disinterest. Forgetfulness was truly a curse they had. So today, they’d asked Angel to remind them that it was movie night, and Angel sure kept his word. So there they were, trying to decide where to sit as everyone waited for Charlie to pick a movie.

They looked around. The simplest option would be to sit with Angel, but… what if they didn’t? Charlie had encouraged them to socialize more with the employees and guests, and they liked to believe that they spoke to everyone quite well. But even they had to admit that it wasn’t quite true. There was one sinner in particular that they didn’t talk to as much as they hoped and it was Husk. So, the obvious decision was to sit next to him. And it was exactly as they did.

As they chose the spot next to him, setting up their blanket and pillow, Husk turned to them. Almost a bit surprised anyone would choose to sit by him.

“Hi Husk, ya mind if I sit here?” They asked.

“Not at all, go ahead.” He responded casually. He couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. Unable to contain the soft spot he had for them.

“I found one! What about The Sound of Music?” Charlie exclaimed, immediately getting a groan from Angel Dust. But he didn’t care enough to elaborate on his complaint.

“I think that’s a great option, sweetie.” Vaggie reassured, smiling at her in agreement.

And without another thought, Charlie inserted the VCR into the VCR player (anything newer and Alastor would freak and destroy it himself), turning off the lights and immediately running back to sit next to Vaggie.

Y/n sat comfortably, their eyes glistening in the TV’s dim light. Husk couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous sight for a second. But alas, the movie progressed. The musical numbers already too bearable due to Charlie’s daily song outbursts.

About mid-way through the movie, however, was when Y/n started getting a bit tired. They scoot a bit closer to Husk, their eyes tempting to give in to the exhaustion. Until finally, their eyes closed and they leaned gently on Husk’s shoulder. His cheeks flushed red as he looked around to see if anyone was witnessing this. Upon seeing no one noticing this, he took their blanket and covered them gently. He’d rather not wake them up, they looked so entrancingly precious this way. So he continued watching the movie, smiling at the soft sound of your gentle breathing. He could stay like this forever. He definitely wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

Eventually, he himself felt as if he was going to give in to his own tiredness and ended up losing the battle against himself. Husk closed his eyes and leaned his head on yours. Slumbering away, your breathing lulling him to sleep.

Needless to say, the second Charlie saw this, she ran to get the camera. She had pictures of it and she would never even dream of getting rid of them. To her, a moment of peace like this was proof that the hotel was definitely working.

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snnrinc · 6 months ago

Text

Dance of Hearts

[AO3 Portal]

— PAIRING : Wyll Ravengard x GN!Reader/Tav

— TAGS : NSFW, jealousy, oral (Wyll receiving), overstimulation, fluff and smut, gender neutral reader, reader is insecure, Wyll is a loving husband, no mention of reader's genitals but they are the receiving partner

SUMMARY : You needed more, you needed to see him crumble beneath you, begging you to push him right over the edge. You needed him to chant your name and sinful declarations of love and devotion until it was the only thing you could hear falling from his sweet tongue, until the image of those bastards putting their hands on him and keeping him away from you all night was replaced by the one of Wyll coming undone and looking up at you in adoration.

And being the ever doting husband, Wyll was more than happy to make your fantasies a reality.

— WORD COUNT : 4.7k

— AUTHOR'S NOTE : Since Larian didn't give us a scene with Wyll, I have taken it upon myself to ensure I write this man as satisfied.

The liquid in your glass swirled with each rotation of your wrist, holding your attention if only for a few moments. It was enough of a distraction to allow you a second to regulate your expression, lest your eyebrow twitch in annoyance again right in front of some of the most influential people of Baldur's Gate. You attempted to sip again from the glass, but the way your drink burned down your throat like liquid fire was enough to have you pull back and hurriedly mask how your nose scrunched up at the sensation. Some draconic alcoholic drink, you recalled, one that you didn't bother to remember the name of, but that you should've expected would be so strong since it was crafted by people who can breathe actual fire.

You set your drink down on a table in your little corner of the room, abandoning it for whatever butler was quick to snatch it to maintain the spotless appearance of the ballroom. Now without your distraction, you scanned the room, noting how even while basking in the brilliant glimmer of the chandeliers hanging above, you still managed to blend into the shadows. Something told you it wasn't your well-honed stealth skills that kept the nobles' attention away from you. Rather, you were sure the hostility came from being akin to an intruder in the upper class, the hero of Baldur's Gate that married into nobility, your background be damned.

The air was thick with rare alcoholic drinks and expensive perfumes, enough to make you nauseous as arrogant laughter and shameless gossip intermingled in a cacophony of upper city superiority, a tune that you always begrudgingly played to. Or tried to, at least. You were sure the fake smiles and sugar-coated pleasantries shared amongst the nobility around you were enough to make even Astarion gag, let alone you. But perhaps your attitude towards the entire event that you were attending was also contributing to your unwillingness to mingle and meddle in affairs you had no interest in.

At last, your scrutinising gaze fell on the person you were most excited to see: your husband Wyll. His presence shone from the middle of a group of lords and ladies that were engaged in a political discussion like a ray of sunshine slipping through the cracks of a dull wall eroded by corruption. You felt your shoulders relax the moment your eyes met and his smile softened just for you. With a polite wave and a sweet smile, you began walking towards him, making sure to use a proper posture so as to maintain his image and yours.

You saw Wyll excuse himself and exchange handshakes and smiles with the other noblemen, bowing politely before he began his journey to meet you halfway. You sighed in relief that finally you'd have the opportunity to dance with your husband, spend some time holding him close so you could drown out the world and focus on his calming presence, but your plans were cut short the moment a woman stepped in his path and bowed her head with reverence, asking him if he'd spare a dance. With an apologetic look sent your way, he politely accepted her request and led her towards the centre of the ballroom, taking their place in an elegant dance amidst the other couples.

It wouldn't have been a problem for you, if it didn't keep happening.

One after another, more and more men and women began interrupting you and your husband, stealing him away for whatever political or business conversation, getting too close whenever they requested a dance or offering drinks too insistently. It had your blood boiling.

Your mood only continued to sour whenever you'd notice people leering at your husband, their hands far too comfortable on his waist, their heads bowing in much too close of a proximity to his, their eyes narrowing and lips turning into arrogant smiles whenever they caught you glaring from across the room. The fact that you felt out of place certainly did not help your feelings.

Before you knew it, the night had ended without you having any chance to even talk to your husband, let alone dance with him, and your thoughts had been left alone to marinate for longer than it was healthy.

Which is why you now felt on the verge of tears whenever you caught a glimpse of Wyll from the corner of your eye, walking beside you towards your shared bedchamber. You could tell he was tired, could see it on his face as his eyelids fell heavy half-way through. You blinked away tears of anger and frustration and fiddled with your sleeves as you tried to collect your thoughts, but whenever you managed to put them into place, they fell apart and spiralled once again.

You were a burden, one to be ashamed of. To think that Wyll just graciously took each and every insult thrown at him about his new demonic appearance only to now have yet another stain upon his reputation, his spouse no less, the one who was supposed to be lifting him up and enhancing his image, not tarnishing it further. You were aware most of it just came from ruthless gossip, but being marginalised either out of arrogance or out of jealousy was starting to get to you. You began to see the images all the mean-spirited whispers were trying so hard to project into your mind: perhaps Wyll would be better suited at the side of a better person, maybe one of the people that kept stealing him away for a romantic dance, a more handsome man with power over commerce, a more graceful woman who could charm others into agreeing with Wyll's plans to better the city. Someone who was not you.

By the time you reached your room, you didn't even realise just how obvious your feelings were on your face. You opened the door more forcefully than necessary and stepped inside, a confused and worried Wyll following you closely. You sat down on the bed unceremoniously and began to unlace whatever strings were holding your emblazoned jacket tied neatly.

“Love, is everything alright with you?”

You looked up, ready to brush off any concerns Wyll would voice, but your train of thought was cut off right as your eyes met with his. He regarded you with such care, worry swimming in his soft eyes as he kneeled beside you and placed his hand over your knee. You shook your head and tried to tell him he can just sit beside you, but you knew he wanted to have a direct line of vision to your troubled gaze.

“You've been acting off this evening. Do you want to talk about it?”

His gentle tone pulled at your heartstrings. It made you want to wrap your arms around him and kiss him while also wanting to just break down crying in frustration.

Instead, you decided that he had dealt with enough stress for one night.

“Nothing, dear. I'm okay, just tired,” you said through a fake smile and reached out to brush your fingers across his cheek.

“Don't lie to me.” His firm response had your expression drop, and although his touch was gentle as he leaned into your palm to kiss it, his eyes were almost admonishing you for trying to deflect. “I won't pry if you don't wish to tell me, but just know you don't have to hide from me.”

Oh how easy it was for him to slip through the cracks of your armour, it was almost scary. With a frown, you decided to come clean, unable to resist the need to fall into his comforting arms, wishing just to hear his voice whispering vows of his undying devotion to you as you drifted off to sleep.

“You deserve the world, Wyll,” you said, voice shaking with emotion. “I can't even give you a fraction of that. Not in the way that another could…”

“What are you talking about?” His hands came to cup your cheeks softly and you leaned into his warm touch, grabbing onto his wrist like a lifeline, the only tether left to your self-control. “You've already given me the world; it's standing right in front of me, the love of my life. I often feel like the colours around me are so vibrant simply because of your radiating presence. What have I done to make you think otherwise?”

You shook your head quickly, noticing how doubt and sorrow settled in his expression. “No, no, it's not that! You didn't do anything, I just…” Wyll remained quiet, waiting for you to take in a small breath and continue. “I know you've noticed the way the other nobles look at you, the way they talk about our union. Despite everything that happened, they see me as less than, or perhaps a threat to a potential opportunity to get closer to you.”

“Surely you wouldn't want me stuck in a loveless marriage with a pompous noble whose most interesting attribute is a stick they keep hidden where the sun doesn't reach.”

“Of course not, Wyll.” You frowned and Wyll fell silent. “I feel like I don't belong. These people kept you away from me all night and kept throwing mean glares my way. I didn't want to complain because I know you're dealing with a lot, but I don't like the way they kept sticking to you like leeches.”

“So you're jealous? Is that it?”

“Well maybe I am jealous!” you suddenly burst out. “Maybe I am, because you're just so perfect that I don't understand how you chose me when you could've had anyone else in the world!”

You breathed out and finally registered the surprised face of Wyll. He opened his mouth, but before any words could spill out, you pulled yourself out of his grasp and turned away, ashamed at your irrational outburst. Gods, maybe you had too much to drink, maybe a single sip of draconic alcohol was enough to have you getting dizzy in embarrassment and frustration. How childish, to just spill out your insecurities in anger. Perhaps this was why others deemed you unfit to be one of the rulers of Baldur's Gate.

“My love,” came Wyll's soothing voice, but you dared not turn to look him in the eye. “Would you believe me if I said that every morning when I wake up and I'm greeted with your sleeping face on the pillow next to mine, I tell myself I'm not worthy of this?” You sighed and crossed your arms, unsure if you could even believe such a thing. “You're… incredible. You're more than I could have ever asked for and you have no idea how lucky I am to be by your side. The fact that I get to call you my spouse is honestly a dream come true.”

He took a step closer to you and gently placed his hands on your arm, turning you around slowly and searching your eyes. Your shoulders relaxed when you felt his warmth close and you allowed yourself to look back at his loving gaze. One of his hands came up to caress your cheek once again, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“We've endured many dangers in our adventures. I'd do it all over again for you. I'd traverse the flames of Avernus, I'd fight any monster in Faerûn, I'd endure any pain so long as I get to see you smile. Those posh people from high society don't know you like I do. They don't know me like you do.” Softly, he placed his forehead against yours, his other hand moving up your arm to rest on the other side of your face as you placed your hands on his waist. “I could never love anyone else like I love you, my heart. The flaws that you see in yourself, they only add to your perfection to me.”

“Wyll…”

“Don't push me away, please,” he said, a hint of desperation lacing his voice. “I love you. Let me love you.”

His lips brushed against yours, pulling back slightly, and when you chased his kiss he fully gave in to you. He pulled you close, one hand falling to wrap around your waist and press your body against his as you got lost into the sweetness of his mouth. The way he kissed you was loving, sensuous, but you were hungry, greedily craving more of his love and touch. You parted your lips and swiped your tongue on the bottom of his lip, and with a grunt of pleasure, he granted you access to deepen the kiss.

Your hands moved from his hips to his chest, fingers finding the buttons of his satin shirt and unbuttoning them with urgency. When your hands dipped beneath the fabric to feel his skin, he let out a soft moan and pulled back slightly, only for your lips to trail down his jaw and to his neck, kissing every bit that you could reach.

“Slow, slow, my love, slow,” he muttered, breath hitching when you kissed the spot right under his ear. “Let me take care of you. I want us to take our time.”

He placed his hands on your arms and pulled you away just enough to look at you. You finally took your time to admire him, his clothes that up until that moment had been neatly covering his body were now rumpled from your hands pulling at them. You hadn't had time to light any of the candles around your bedchamber, but the large windows allowed enough moonlight to fall through the room to see the details of his appearance, the angles of his face. His chest was slightly exposed, a thin layer of sweat already forming over his skin. His lips were swollen from your kiss, still wet and parted to allow shallow breaths to pass through. And his eyes… Despite his gentlemanly words about taking his time to make you feel good, they were positively burning with lust. But even so, the love he held for you managed to shine through when his expression softened as he took in your dishevelled look.

“Okay,” you responded, nodding your head. “Let's take it slow then.”

He smiled at your words and leaned in to kiss your forehead, his hands moving to the laces and buttons holding your shirt together. “May I?”

You nodded and moved closer, capturing his lips in a kiss once again but letting him set the pace this time, slow and loving, melting into him as his fingers pushed away the fabrics from your body. Your hands grabbed the silky material of his shirt, pulling it from his trousers and working in tandem with him to undress each other. Eventually, you were both nude before each other, your expensive clothes scattered haphazardly on the floor.

His hands were gentle as they traversed your skin, slow and graceful as they traced each curve and edge of your body, your own exploring the expanse of his back, moving to his sides, abdomen, then travelling higher up to his chest. He moaned softly in your mouth when your palms grazed his nipples, one of his hands twitching against your hip while the other found its way towards your chest.

Without breaking the kiss, you guided Wyll to your bed until his legs hit the frame and he pulled away to lay down. You took your place on top of him, lowering your head to pepper kisses across his face that had him chuckling. You smiled, trailing your lips back to his jaw, this time slower than before, kissing down his neck and collarbone. He sighed at the feeling, your hands moving across his body to feel each ridge and bump on his skin—courtesy of his demonic attributes—only serving to pull him deeper in a trance. His skin felt hot beneath your fingers, his breathing getting heavier with each soft kiss you planted on his body, your lips eventually reaching his nipple and wrapping around it as you swiped your tongue against it. Wyll gasped, placing one hand to the nape of your neck, feeling goosebumps spread on his skin when your fingers found his other nipple.

“My love,” he began, followed by another soft moan. “I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

“Please, Wyll, I need this.”

He didn't argue further, the hint of desperation in your voice not lost on him. You shifted lower on his body, pressing close to him while your abdomen brushed against his hardness, pulling a hiss from between his teeth. The sound only served to spur you on as you continued your journey down his stomach, your hands drifting to his hips while you felt him melt under your kisses. Eventually, when you were satisfied with how breathless he seemed to be from the smallest of touches, you caressed his thigh with one hand, going higher and higher as his muscles tensed under your palm, then twitched when you finally wrapped your hand around him.

“My heart!” Wyll gasped, his wrist quickly finding yours and touching it gently. “You don't have to-”

“Will you be good for me, my dear?”

Wyll looked down and was reminded why he was so thankful of the darkvision that his good eye offered, perhaps the only positive from his curse, for as soon as his gaze landed on you he was sure he was enchanted. Your eyes were looking back at him, shadowed by lust, commanding submission to your will, with your hand firmly wrapped around him, your lips inching closer to the tip of his cock.

“Yes,” Wyll answered, his voice barely a whisper. Although his tongue felt like lead in his mouth, he was willing to agree to whatever you suggested, if only you'd keep looking at him like that. “I'll be good.”

You offered him a smile, your tongue darting out to lick gently at his tip, relishing the way he gasped out your name with a trembling voice. You shifted your hand slightly, pressing your tongue flat at his base then dragging it upwards, the simple movement already having Wyll throw his head back in pleasure, but even so, some shakes of excitement and a few soft moans were not enough. You needed more, you needed to see him crumble beneath you, begging you to push him right over the edge. You needed him to chant your name and sinful declarations of love and devotion until it was the only thing you could hear falling from his sweet tongue, until the image of those bastards putting their hands on him and keeping him away from you all night was replaced by the one of Wyll coming undone and looking up at you in adoration.

You groaned at the thought, opening your mouth and finally tasting him fully, hollowing your cheeks to make sure you fit as much of him as you could. The choked moan that slipped from Wyll's lips only further sent you deeper into desire, your tongue swirling around him as your hand worked him in tandem, making sure that whatever part you couldn't take would not go neglected. Your free hand rested on his thigh for support, feeling the muscles flex with each bob of your head, each suck and lick, as your fingers dug into it. Wyll's moans became more constant, falling from every other breath and beckoning you like a siren's song. You moaned as well, the vibration of your voice reverberating through his length and making his mind melt.

His fingers found your head, placing his palms on it gently but not daring to make any move to push you lower, cautious not to hurt you even while lost in the throes of pleasure. Instead, he tried to distract himself from the urge to thrust into your mouth by muttering sweet praises under his breath, shivers cascading down his body with each beat of his heart, each pulse of arousal. He was approaching the sweet precipice at a dizzying speed, with how you were licking and sucking at him, swallowing every drop of precum leaking from his tip. His body was hot, trembling beneath you, and soon enough his mind was so far gone in a fog of lust that he began to mindlessly string together words he hoped made sense.

“P-please, my love,” he uttered breathlessly, a whine escaping him. “Gods, please! Please, I'm so close!”

You hummed, earning a grunt from him at the vibration coursing through him, and when you felt the muscles in his thighs tense up, you raised your head. Wyll groaned, throwing his head back, your tongue teasingly tracing the length of his cock again. His fingers twitched on your head, palms pushing you down slightly in a silent demand for more before he stopped himself and gripped the sheets instead.

“Hells, why did you stop?” he asked, looking down at you with a disappointed frown only to be met with a serious expression. “Love? What's wrong?”

You gently caressed his thigh, tilting your head slightly as you watched him try to catch his breath, concerned clearly written on his face. You shifted, slowly crawling higher on his body.

“Remember when we took a vow?”

Confusion glinted in his eyes, but still he regarded you with sincerity, raising his hand so he could caress your cheek.

“How could I forget? It was the happiest day of my life.”

Satisfied, you lowered your head to press kisses up his chest, speaking between each one, “What did we promise each other?”

“That we'll be together, come what may.”

You hummed, kissing his neck, then his cheek, while your hand slithered lower to wrap around his cock again, revelling in how his breath hitched. Your lips shifted to his ear while Wyll placed his palms on your hips, guiding you closer to where he needed your body.

“And who did you vow to belong to?” you continued, your teeth grazing against the edge of his earlobe.

“You,” Wyll responded right away, almost eager to proclaim it. “I belong to you.”

You smiled at his answer, positioning yourself on top of him so the tip of his cock would line up with your entrance. Your thumb caressed his cheekbone affectionately as you lifted your head to look into his eyes, the adoration you held for him clearly visible through the specks of lust still swimming in your gaze.

“And who do I belong to, forever and always?”

Wyll raised his hand from your hip to run his knuckles against your cheek gently, regarding you like you were the embodiment of peace and beauty, washing over him like sunlight, your every touch akin to the summer breeze. Refreshing, calming, hot.

“You're mine,” he answered, eyes darkening once he felt you rub against him, so close to finally enveloping him in your warmth. “All mine.”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he opened his mouth to taste you in return. You lowered your body slowly, both of you moaning in each other's mouth as he entered you at last, your body adjusting to him and wrapping around him like the Gods themselves carved the shape of you to match his. It didn't take long for the embers within him to reignite, raging deep into the pit of his gut like the flames of Avernus, sending rivers of fire through the very marrow of his bones with each thrust.

You broke your kiss to watch Wyll as his mind began to slip, drowning in the passion you both shared. His body was glistening with sweat, muscles shaking as he grasped at whatever part of you he could reach, your hips working in a hypnotising rhythm that had any coherent thought evaporate from both of your minds. To him, you looked divine, your muscles flexing with each movement, mouth slightly agape to let out short breaths and delicious moans, your brows frowned in concentration. It only took you muttering a sincere “I love you” for Wyll to tumble over the edge earlier than he had hoped.

“Hells below,” he whispered, a groan following shortly after when you continued moving even as he came down from his high, his senses going into overdrive at how sensitive he was. “My love, I- Gods, you're still-”

Looking up at you was a mistake on his part, the sinful sight of your eyes gazing at him with such desire overwhelming enough that he thought he'd either come again or have a heart attack. He writhed beneath you, not wanting to stop you when you felt so incredible, like you were guiding him up to the summit of Mount Celestia itself. Wyll discovered he was grateful for one more demonic trait he had been punished with: his stamina. He was sure that was the only thing keeping him from losing his grip on his last thread of sanity.

“You can take it for me, Wyll, can't you?” Gods yes, he could take whatever you wanted if you continued to speak to him like that, the demand in your voice hidden underneath a honeyed tone. “You can give me one more.”

Goosebumps crawled up his body and a choked moan got stuck in his throat as you sped up the pace, watching intently as he fell apart beneath you and began chanting your name like a delirious prayer. Your name, none of those heartless nobles who dared keep him away from you.

“Should've done this sooner,” you said, breathless. “Should've come up to you on that ballroom floor and showed everyone that you're well and thoroughly taken.”

You gripped the headboard, focused on chasing your own release knowing that Wyll was close again. He felt so good, the angle at which you were lowering yourself on him ensuring that he hit every spot you needed him to, until your moans got louder, until your sweet praises and filthy declarations became unintelligible. Before you knew it, you came over him, pulling him right after you into the deep end of white hot pleasure, his hands gripping your hips in an almost bruising manner, while yours dug into the headboard so hard you were surprised you didn't break it. After a moment of catching your breath, you pulled away, groaning at how his softening cock dragged against your walls at the motion, before you collapsed next to him.

It only took a second for Wyll to reach out for you, pulling you close to him, the shaking in his limbs beginning to subside as he pressed loving kisses on the crown of your head. You hugged him back, tracing aimless patterns on his back as you got lost in the scent of him, closing your eyes in bliss.

“Thank you, Wyll,” you uttered, your voice muffled from how your lips pressed to his collarbone.

Wyll pulled away slightly to look at your eyes, the moonlight bleeding through the windows bathing you in an ethereal glow. He almost lost track of what you had said, too preoccupied focusing his entire being on how gorgeous you looked, naked beside him, your tired eyes holding so much love it had his heart skipping several beats. And to think you'd ever believe he could love someone else, when not even the greatest wizards and sorcerers in the Forgotten Realms could have one this enchanted with the love of their life.

Wyll finally remembered what he wanted to say, the back of his palm brushing against your cheek.

“What for?” he asked.

“Reassuring me.”

He chuckled, squeezing you close to his heart, one hand rubbing against your arm.

“You don't need to thank me for that. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't shower my dear spouse in all the affection I can offer?”

You smiled at that, allowing your body to relax in his arms, your breathing evening out as you listened to his heart steadily beating in tandem with yours. You relished how he kissed you so gently, how his hands banished any sort of tension from your muscles, how his presence finally silenced the awful voice in your head that dared to make you think even for a second that Wyll would ever have eyes for another.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, completely at peace enveloped in his warmth, Wyll spoke up:

“I also wouldn't mind repeating myself, if you ever get jealous again.”

You smiled, pinching his side playfully as he laughed and threw the covers over both of you, finally settling into a deep slumber.

#wyll ravengard x reader #wyll ravengard smut #smut #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #wyll x reader

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bg-brainrot · 1 year ago

Text

Second winter fluff prompt for the BG3 Holiday Challenge!

Prompt: Ice and Snow

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Love at First Knife, on AO3 here

Premise: Astarion is always cold, used to a nocturnal lifestyle and a distinct lack of blood in his veins. However you, the sad little mortal, are not prepared for the winter’s chill. When you experience your first snowfall together, Astarion makes it his personal mission to ensure that you’re bundled up.

Tags: Fluff, POV Second person, Gender-neutral pronouns, Post-Canon

Word count: ~1.1k

“Astarion, please,” you say, voice muffled behind a thick, knitted scarf. “You’re completely overreacting.”

The vampire tuts at you, as he deposits a fur-lined hat upon your head, and a few dangling tassels tickle your ears. “Now darling, what did I tell you about fighting me on this?”

“That you would tie me up and–”

“No, the other thing,” he interrupts, though a salacious smile comes over him at the thought.

“Oh. That you wouldn’t let me make a snow celestial…” you sound dejected, and you downcast your eyes to appear pitiable.

Astarion, for his part, only finds joy in your reaction, a delighted giggle being his only response.

“What about you?” you challenge, as he tries to shimmy another coat onto your already quite padded frame. "You were just complaining about the cold the other day!"

“I’m coldblooded, my dear. And you know I only complain for the attention,” he says, kneeling down to lace your boots for you. If you tried to bend down right now, you’re certain you’ll fall over in a pile of furs and fluff. “I shall be just fine with my current coat.” He’s currently wearing a fitted red winter coat, an embroidered pattern of roses in gold along its sleeves and collar– the epitome of a dashing man, next to your shambling mound.

“Stupid, sexy vampire,” you mutter under your breath. He only laughs and places yet another scarf around your neck.

Satisfied with his work, he takes a step back. “Would you look at that, my scary assassin is all ready to go outside,” he says, a bright smile on his face.

You level him with a murderous look, which loses some of its effect considering the scarves currently blocking your mouth. “I’ll show you scary,” you mumble, ready to attack your lover. You find that difficult now though, considering a slow shuffle is all that you can maintain.

He pays your death glares no mind, as he tucks one delicate little scarf around his own neck and declares that he’s ready to go outside as well.

You wobble after him, feeling nothing like the intimidating rogue you’re supposed to be. But you suppose if it means he won’t stop your snow celestials, some sacrifices, like your pride, must be made.

The first snowfall along the Sword Coast is always among the most beautiful and this year is no exception. Once you’ve made your way outside, you find yourself surrounded by a winter wonderland.

Pockets of snow line your roof, several inches of snow surround your house in every direction, and a light smattering of snow falls upon you now. You wish you could feel it, but between all of the layers, you only guess that it’s light and powdery– perfect for snow celestials.

Astarion peers around at the world, seeming rather unimpressed. “Well, isn’t that lovely. The ground is white.”

You ignore his lackluster response to the bounty of snow before you and make your way past him to the yard. With more of a stumble than a step, you fall into a particularly open patch of snow in front of your house. A puff of white snow explodes around you as you land, and you breathe out a single, “Oof.”

“Love, was that… on purpose?” Astarion asks, not far behind you.

“Mmhm,” you mumble into the snow. A backwards snow celestial it is. With all of the effort you can muster, you wave your arms and legs into the shape of wings and, well, whatever celestials had in place of legs. You can feel yourself overheating from the bundle of clothes surrounding you, but you’re determined to make this look good and ensure that Astarion understands that this is lovely.

After your exertions, you stop moving for a bit, just laying there in the impression of your snow celestial. Astarion, who’s likely been watching you this entire time, calls out, “Are you alright, dear?”

You raise your hand into a gloved thumbs up.

“Do you need help getting up?”

“Mhhhmmmm,” you groan into the snow. Your nose is starting to get cold and your sweat is chilling over.

“Alright then,” he responds, and you feel his legs carefully step around you, his arms tugging you onto your back and hoisting you up. Once you’re on your feet, your lover frowns at you and begins dusting you off with determination. “Darling, look at you. You’re going to get soaked to the bone with how much snow you’re covered in.”

“And whose fault is that?” you grumble at him.

“Yours, for insisting on the snow celestial,” he retorts, flicking your nose with his index finger.

That reminds you– You look down at your imprint in the snow, see what all of this unpleasant combination of cold and sweat got you. It’s a little lopsided, and both your and Astarion’s boots have left several footprints in the center, but it’s a solid attempt.

Brimming with pride at your work, you look to Astarion. “See? Look at how radiant my celestial looks.”

Astarion takes a look as well, and you can see the stifled laughter begging to come out.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you say, pointing a stern finger at him.

He promptly defies you, as a hearty chuckle escapes him. “Sorry, dearest, but the hat you’re wearing makes it look like some kind of beholder.”

You look down to see that the tassels to your hat must have flung around as you moved, creating a crown of what could really only be described as eyestalks. “Well then. A snow aberration. I’m not picky,” you respond with a shrug.

Astarion smiles at you, open affection coloring his gaze, before he pulls you into a wide hug. “Fantastic work, love. Your talent is unmatched. And maybe– just maybe– it was worth all of the effort.”

You lean into him and his praise and say, “I suppose I should thank you for making sure I stayed warm.”

“Oh no need,” he says, squeezing you tightly. “Seeing you look like a large marshmallow is truly its own reward.” He drops his voice an octave and adds, “And somehow you still manage to look utterly enticing.”

You can barely feel his movements through the layers between you, so when he abruptly begins dragging you back to the house you give a surprised yelp. “What are you doing?”

“Your snow creature is done, now comes my favorite part– taking all of these layers off,” you catch Astarion’s quick wink before you’re ungracefully pulled after him.

There’s snow between your scarves, your toes have begun to chill, and fresh new snow is falling on your face, but somehow his words still warm you. “Was this your plan all along?”

“Naturally, my love. You know I would do anything to keep you warm,” his tone is innocent, the lidded eyes he gives you anything but. He must catch the flush covering your face because he laughs a melodic trill. “I’m starting to think I quite like wintertime.”

#bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x tav #astarion #rogue + rogue #astarion x reader #fanfic #fluff

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cheollipop · 1 year ago

Note

Ok ok ok idk if you’re still taking stuff for your sleepover (which by the way congrats on 2k omg) BUT I had a thought —

Paramedic!San who helps calm down panicky reader when they have to be taken by ambulance to the hospital for something idk but the entire time San is just talking to them and like introducing himself and keeping the reader distracted from whatever medical stuff is going on so they can calm down or won’t pass out.

Just things like San calling the reader darling or something cute like that from the second he gets to their side and talking all sweet to them or saying stuff like ‘hey just keep your eyes on me’ or like ‘I’ve got you’ just AH

I feel like it has San behavior and I just like being taken care of lol

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

I remember reading your ask for the first time and full-on swooning over this omg, marian your brain....let me kiss it. this is seriously so him and writing it had me giggling and blushing like crazy bc??? personally, I'd be cracking a bone every other week if i were reader, just to have him hold my hand and calm me down. just me? okay T-T this was so fun to write, so thank you for sending this in!! and thank you for all the support, it means so much to me <33 happy reading~

pairing: paramedic!choi san x gender neutral!reader

w.c.: 0.7k

tags: fluff, reader is called pretty, tw: ankle injury, reader gets anxious about it

Echoing voices overlapped around you, and the pain in your ankle persisted as the paramedics rolled your stretcher into the back of the ambulance. You squinted under the white light, and nearly flinched away from the sudden chill on your skin as one of the responders pressed an icepack onto the swollen flesh, a hand around your calf stabilizing it to prevent further injury. Everything was happening too fast, your chest heaving with anxiety as the vehicle rolled over bumpy roads.

A dark head of hair popped into your vision, honeyed voice and delicate hands calming your racing heart, “take deep breaths for me, darling,” he spoke, a smile stretching his plush lips while he squeezed his hand around yours. “My name’s San, can you tell me yours?”

Despite its simplicity, it took you a few moments to process his question, smiley eyes distracting you from the beeping equipment surrounding you. “(Y/n),” you spoke, managing not to shiver while he maintained eye contact.

San had an intimidating face, and yet his aura emanated cordiality and benevolence, multiplying with every millimetre his lips stretched. “And what’s a pretty thing like you doing to hurt their ankle this bad, hm?”

The sudden teasing shift in his tone caught you by surprise, heat flushing your face as you stumbled over your words, attempting to explain the way you tripped over uneven ground while he kept you bound under his unyielding gaze.

“San, stop flirting with the patient,” a voice interrupted you mid-story, and San looked back at the man perched by your feet in annoyance.

“Can you ice her ankle in silence, Woo?” The faux smile he put on while talking to the two-tone haired man turned genuine when he moved his attention back to you, his fingers still wrapped around your palm and squeezing gently, easing the tension weighing down on your chest. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous I’m the one talking to you,” he winked.

So he was flirting.

Warmth tingled the skin at your ankle as soon as the paramedic pulled the ice pack away, examining the area and assessing the degree of swelling. The pain started again, and your eyes shifted down to peek at the bruising flesh, eyebrows furrowing as the anxiety threatened to close up your airways.

“Hey, hey, eyes up here, darling,” San’s hand left yours momentarily to close around your chin, guiding your focus back to him, to glimmering orbs and dimpled cheeks. “We’re gonna take care of you, alright? Woo just needs to give your skin a break from the ice,” he explained, moving his fingers back to yours.

You nodded, allowing the deep decibels to mute the pain panging in your joint, blinking slowly while his lips moved. You knew he was trying to distract you, to calm your quivering nerves, and it was working. Small talk worked. Questions about your hobbies, favourite shows—that you happened to share a few of—and his small rant about his cat, worked. And before you knew it, the ice pack was back on your skin, and your fingers had long since ceased their restless trembling underneath his own.

The ambulance slowed before stopping completely, the back door swinging open to reveal the emergency room entrance, and you couldn’t help the disappointment slumping your shoulders. San must have noticed, giving your hand a tight squeeze before moving away to help the other paramedics roll you out the back and onto the pavement. Once your stretcher fixed on secure ground, his fingers closed around your bicep to pull you up and off it, helping you into the wheelchair a nurse was perched behind.

He kneeled by your side, both his hands finding yours as he spoke, eyes wide and a gentle, amiable smile gracing his lips, “it was nice meeting you, (y/n).” He squeezed around your knuckles, his next words quieter, as though he wanted no one but you to hear them, “take care of yourself, you won’t need to sprain another ankle to see me again.”

Deep dimples sunk into the soft skin of his cheeks, a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips as he sent you off with a wink, a crumpled paper tucked into your palm and butterflies thrashing around in your lower belly.

#panda's 2k sleepover o(≧▽≦)o #cromernet #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #choi san fluff #san fluff #ateez fluff #san scenarios #choi san scenarios #choi san imagines #san imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #choi san fanfic

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monoclesnapple · 9 months ago

Text

Streamer!Chuuya

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara X Gender Neutral Reader Beginning Note: The stream clips are taken from RussainBadger on YouTube, he's really entertaining. Hint of Rockstar!Chuuya. Word Count: 1096 (Fluff/Little crack)

Of course, he’s very popular by the time he’s 22. All those streams about the new and trending topics eventually led to his popularity. Also the fact that he’s a rockstar, so that helped.

But back when he was 15, he didn’t have that reputation of a singer, and he started his streaming first before moving to a new occupation, but still maintaining the previous one.

He had very few viewers, and he was kinda cringe. But at least you were there!

(Background information now) You had befriended him in your freshman year of high school along with a guy named Dazai. The three of you had a lot of fun, the two guys always being chaotic and yelling at each other while you tried to calm them down.

Although you kinda got in trouble often, you still continued being stupid. You’ll grow out of it! (Debatable)

Chuuya had at some point expressed his goals of being a streamer or singer, so you and Dazai encouraged him to start with the former, so he did.

Initially, he did gameplays with commentary, but those games were first person shooters or anything online that included fighting in a team against another. Simply put, he raged a lot.

And now in the present, he still does, but it’s gotten a little more expressive since he doesn’t have anyone to scold him about what he’s saying aside from you.

He has a variety of content on his page now, like gameplays (still), just talking, random challenges, IRL streaming, etc. The different forms of entertainment really helps with maintaining his popularity.

Sometimes during streams, he would tell his viewers that he’s gonna do something for a minute until he returns. That minute is used to check on you.

“Are you hungry? We can order take out”, “You alright?”, “We can cuddle and watch a movie after I’m done”, all that is concluded with a kiss on your face.

You do like to mess with him sometimes. Sitting under his desk while he’s gaming and watching him (Just don’t screw his playthrough, he won’t talk to you for a while), going in his chat and sending a message (That shows up highlighted/on screen) about some chore he still has to do, and the like.

Anything harmless because you care about him and he appreciates that.

One time, you were making dinner and he suddenly started screaming loudly. You ensured the kitchen wouldn’t burn before knocking lightly on his door and asking if he was okay.

In response, he comes to the door and opens it a little. “Shit, sorry. Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I’ll make it up to you later,” and he takes your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it, then going back to his chair.

When he uploaded some clips of his stream to his channel on YouTube or the equivalent of the site, you saw that the reason for his scream was because he was arguing with a friend? And the microphone couldn’t capture the high volume so the yell came out quieter than it really was and the mic just cut off.

Another time, he was talking with his friends about something that had happened, and Dazai (who was playing with him, of course) just muted Chuuya’s mic midsentence. After that he went offline, ended the stream, and went to your shared bedroom to cuddle with you, pout on his face. He recounted what happened and you chuckled lightly, embracing him.

Eventually, his old streams from when he was in high school were found (He deleted the clips after saving them on a drive because they were precious memories) and uploaded.

The video included the time where he was playing a multiplayer game (Just Call of Duty, really) and there was an after death mic that allowed the dead player to say something for a second to their killer before respawning. The things he said included, “You’re so mean!”, “Hahah, pendejo!” (asshole in Spanish), “I don’t even wanna play anymore” (In a whiny voice. He said that to you and Dazai, but the mic was on.)

He barked at someone in the game results screen

At the discovery of his old streams, Chuuya panicked before laughing at them. Sure, they were embarrassing, but the comments loved it. He decided to upload the rest of his saved ones so everyone can enjoy them.

Akutagawa, his friend, sometimes play with Chuuya’s group, and when the former plays and does well, Chuuya just yells out “That’s my boy! THAT’S MY BOY! GAHDAM-” and he’s cut off. He’s a huge supporter for Aku and will cheer him on whenever he plays.

After his streams, Chuuya goes to spend time with you. It’s always wholesome and you both would never trade it for anything in the world. You scratch at his scalp while he buries his face in your chest, complaining about Dazai bullying him, or how he was getting dominated by the other players. He always has fun things to tell to you.

What you always love is that while on stream, he seems tough, loud, and in general very entertaining. But when he’s alone with you, no cameras or anything, he’s so soft and cute. Just your cute little boyfriend.

Although he can catch you off guard with his loudness, he always apologizes and makes you forget it. Despite the two of you sharing the fact that you’re both in a relationship, there’s still people prying into his life, wanting to know more. Chuuya did say that it may be uncomfortable, but you still have a large support system consisting of his fans.

A couple of his streams include you. Mainly the IRL ones, but you sometimes join him in his games. The viewers love seeing you two together and always request for more of you.

Sometimes, he practices with his guitar on stream, playing any requests from viewers, and you’re off to the side and out of the camera’s view. If there’s ever a romantic song, he dedicates it to you. A lot of love songs are asked for.

Going back to streams with Aku, he once had a coughing fit while on mic, and someone rigged it to have a voice effect. His coughs were so screwed up, it just sounded like a weird echo into the abyss.

Overall, he’s very fun to be with. You’re blessed to be the one he trusts to show his soft side to. Anyone who’s able to be his friend at least is lucky to have that title (at least in the present time).

End Note: Here are the clips used

youtube

(Edit, here's the Aku inspired one)

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #~writing~#~headcanons~#Youtube

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