#the emotional turmoil i went through while writing this

[zorkaya-moved]

It wasn't the most heated or grandiosely romantic gesture, but it was a display of his affection nonetheless. Laying there with her, he propped his forehead against hers and let out a soft, content sigh. "Love ya, moon." ( mammon )

@xamassed

Her mother always said that whoever will be able to witness her true self will not see the sun but will see the moon. It was a strange conversation a mother, and a daughter had when speaking about love, belonging, and truth. The only beauty of the brightest purity Zarina believed in was love, and love only. The love of her family, the love she saw between Margarita and Victor, and the love she now experienced with Mammon by her side.

Cold and distant, she always sought out a way to connect and to remain warm by someone else's side because her own moonlit visage was never seen and it couldn't be warmed up by those who only saw the fake sun. Akin to fake saints and fake blessed, Sokolova became what others wanted to survive and to prosper, but not many ever witnessed the reality. The one who truly loves her will see the Moon behind the Sun's glow. 

The young Zarina dreamed that someone will someday call her this. She knew she had to be the Sun to be successful and to bring people to her, but she yearned for someone to [see] her, to [know] her, and to [stay] after learning. Said young self was closed off behind iron walls of reality, struggle, and endless fighting to remain at the top of the food chain within the Human World. But she wasn't like that in the Devildom. There was another struggle that she needed to defend herself against, but right now? Right now, she was happy; she felt safe, and her heart yearned for the presence of the Avatar of Greed by her side. Her Mammon, her first demon, her beloved, her one and only. 

To many, relaxing together like this would not scream of heat or high romantics, but it was intimate. In its own special way, it was intimate. The closeness was pleasant; it was always welcomed. Clinginess wasn't unwelcome in these moments when they could finally rest and relax together after a busy day. Not only that, but Zarina simply enjoyed getting all of Mammon's attention for herself as much as he seemed to want her attention during the day. Mammon's fluffy white hair, his hands resting on her waist, his eyes shining with such warmth that made Sokolova's once-frigid heart melt beneath his gaze. Was it too selfish that she wanted this to never end? Was it selfish that she wanted everything he had to want her and to want to remain by her side? Because she yearned, she longed, and she desired. He always said that she'd get anything she wanted if she put her mind to it, but it was different with him. He was cared for, he was adored, and he was special. 

Oh... he was truly special...

Love ya, moon. 

Had Mammon ever hear her breath hitch? Had Mammon ever see this kind of look flicker in her golden gaze? Had Mammon ever witnessed the blood rush to her cheeks like it did then? 

He must've been so startled by the way she would put a small distance between them when he got closer just because she couldn't believe what she just heard. Her heartbeat increased rapidly, she could feel it in her temples and in her head. The pumping of the blood increased, but her gaze was all too tuned in on the very demon who she loved with her whole heart. He never called her that. It was always 'treasure' and 'babe' or something else, but never the 'moon.' The significance of this one nickname wasn't known to many people, if any at all. She never shared it. She didn't thinks he did. Or did she when they both got drunk out of their mind and she probably spoke a bit about her past? It could've happened. It could, she only got that wasted by his side because they were celebrating. Or maybe he just knew. Mammon seemed to sense her state far better than anyone. 

No, it wasn't important...! What was important was that he said what her younger self yearned for... so strongly and so vulnerably. 

Ages went by, she never expected anyone to truly willingly tell her that. It could be based on how she spoke about 'pretending' and 'acting.' Mammon was...beyond spectacular. No matter the timeline and no matter the century, he'd be the only one who'd be so close to her heart and who'd have her heart. If reincarnation existed, she knew her heart will always seek him out. There's no one else who could have every bit of her soul without even a need to ask. It belonged to him... and now there was no going back from it. 

"How did you know?" Zarina whispers, cups his face with her hands tenderly and her golden gaze shines with a newfound emotion of devotion. Or are those tears that are threatening to spill? Her younger self cries within her, screaming that finally someone sees, someone knows, someone stays. It's just a nickname, it could've been a damn mistake or an accident, but it's all that matters. It came from him, from Mammon. From her dearest and her most beloved. Now he'll never get rid of her. Now he'll never be able to make her stop loving him. No matter the age, the century, the life, the death, anything. "You are... the one I searched for and dreamed about," she suddenly says, lips trembling as she feels her chest tighten, yet she looks at him as if he hung the moon. "Do you know what my mother told me when I was young and felt the loneliest? She said the person who'll see the real me and still love me will call me the Moon... And you just did. You just did." The end of her sentence becomes softer as she presses her lips together to hold back a sob, her cheeks are of the prettiest shade of pink and her golden gaze is sparkling like never before (aside from when confession rang through the air and their love became mutual).

She stifled a sob before cutting the space between them with one fluid move to be closer to him, to wrap her arms around him and hide her face from him just for a moment in the crook of his neck. She trembled slightly, holding back the years of yearning and hoping and almost giving it all up. He's already made her dream come true, but this? This was a significance to the young and weak Zarina, a girl who wanted to be loved and seen for who she was. This stubborn, selfish, greedy, and ambitious girl who was colder than the winter's night to all but her family and who struggled with experiencing emotions that suddenly bloomed around the Avatar of Greed. He was her spring, he was her sun, he was her life and he was the first blossom. 

"I love you, I love you so much. Thank you for staying, thank you for seeing and still accepting me. Thank you, Mammon. Let me stay by your side for as long as time lets me." She doesn't want to lose him, she doesn't want to live without his presence, she doesn't want to lose this warmth. She found him and he found her. There will never be anyone else who her heart will respond so strongly to. Her soul, too, shined far brighter than any diamond in this very moment. "I love you, Mammon, my Sun. I found you." 

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 3

WOOP WOOP CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND BOY IS IT JUICY🫣 On a serious note though, we are finally getting into some of the exciting bits of the story!! I’m hoping by the next chapter we will finally be back in the present. No more sad flashbacks!! Also y’all writing Lizzy is genuinely my favorite. If this fic wasn’t about Ford I’d be wifing her up instead😔 Anyways- here’s chapter 3 you lovely souls!

Themes: Consumption of alcohol (reader lowkey gets wasted), major hangover, bill himself is a warning, suggestiveness kind of?? idk, heartache, lizzy is overall an amazing friend, alllll the angst and feelings, injuries, etc okay enjoy!

The drive to Lizzy’s place is quiet, the steady hum of the car engine and the sound of raindrops against the windshield the only background noise. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the trees pass by through the window as you fiddle with the wedding band around your finger. Lizzy glances at you occasionally, a small frown on her face as she senses your mood. She remains silent for most of the ride, giving you space to process your emotions if need be.

It's not long before the car rolls to a stop in front of her apartment building. You reach around to gather your belongings from the backseat and step out into the rainy afternoon. Lizzy follows suit, bright pink umbrella in hand as she leads you towards the entrance.

Once inside the building, she unlocks the door to her apartment building and the two of you usher inside. The soft yellow light of the living room envelopes you, creating a cozy atmosphere in stark contrast to the gloominess outside.

Lizzy begins to kick off her shoes, hanging her keys as she silently studies your face. She can see the turmoil in your eyes, and the uncertainty you’re trying to hide.

“So,” she says gently, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

Your eyes snap out of the daze they were in as you look over at Lizzy, giving her a weak smile.

“Oh, yeah I guess. Things went a lot better than I thought they would.”

Her expression relaxes at your response, a hint of relief showing on her face.

“That’s good,” she says as she walks over to the couch and plops down on it, gesturing for you to do the same. “I was half-expecting a tearful scene or something, honestly.”

You manage a light chuckle at her remark, plopping down on the couch next to her. You pull your knees to your chest as you grab a blanket draped across the back of it, wrapping it around you.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Ford took it pretty well, actually. Better than I expected.”

Lizzy raises a brow as she leans against the back cushions, her arms crossing. “Girl, he better take it well after what he said to you. If it had been me, I would’ve dropped his ass on the spot.”

You can’t help but let out a small snort of laughter at her words, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in a while. It’s a relief to have Lizzy’s no-nonsense attitude around, her bluntness serving as a much-needed dose of honesty.

“Yeah, yeah Liz, I know.” you admit, the smile still lingering on your face. “I was a little tempted.”

Lizzy grins, satisfied with your response as she reaches over and pats your knee supportively.

“As you should,” she says with a nod. “You don’t deserve treatment like that of any kind, no matter how important his research is to him.”

You frown slightly at her words, opting to pick at the blanket below as a distraction.

“Yeah..”

Lizzy watches your expression carefully, sensing your discomfort. She tilts her head slightly, her gaze searching your face.

“But you don’t quite agree, do you?” she probes gently.

You let out a sigh, unsure how to articulate your feelings as you continue to fiddle with the fabric of the blanket.

“It’s just… complicated Liz,” you say, your voice tinged with guilt and frustration. “Yes, I’m hurt and angry with him, but I also understand where he’s coming from. We’ve been together almost our whole lives, and this is all he has ever worked towards. His research is important to him, and he’s under a lot of pressure.”

Lizzy nods slowly as she listens to your words, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. She reaches over and places a hand on top of yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting.

“I get that Y/N, I do,” she says quietly. “And I’m not saying he’s completely in the wrong. But you shouldn’t have to feel like an afterthought in his life either. That’s not fair to you.”

Your eyes brim with tears at her response, your hand twisting and taking hers tightly.

“I know,” you say, your voice threatening to break. “I just wish we could fix things..”

Lizzy squeezes your hand as your tear-filled eyes meet hers.

“And you will, Y/N. It’ll just take some time.”

A small, wobbly smile forms on your lips at her reassurance, a few tears slipping down your cheeks. The hope that you might be able to fix things with Ford, to find a way to bridge the gap that’s widened between you both, is a small but significant comfort.

“Thank you, Liz,” you murmur, your voice still shaky. “I really hope you’re right.”

Lizzy stands with a smile, her hand pulling away from yours and resting on your shoulder.

“I know I’m right chick, because you two love each other. I’ve seen it.”

Your heart warms at her confidence, a soft smile forming on your lips as you nod.

“Now, how about some pizza?”

The few weeks you spend with Lizzy fly by, days passing in a blur of movies, late-night conversations, and plenty of chocolate induced comfort eating. As the final night of your stay approaches, Lizzy turns to you with a sly grin on her face.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been pretty reclusive the past couple of weeks, but it’s your last night here and I refuse to let you spend it watching crappy movies in my living room.”

She places her hands on her hips and gives you a stern look.

“We’re going out for drinks and that’s final.”

You mope as you walk into her view from the bathroom, your voice annoyed and pleading as you speak.

“Liz, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m a married woman, and this dress feels less than... modest.”

Lizzy rolls her eyes, her expression clearly unconvinced.

“Girl, you’re not here to pick up someone, you’re here to have fun. And as for the dress I picked out for you, it looks fantastic. Stop overthinking it.”

She gives you a onceover, inspecting your outfit.

“Besides, I’d like to see anyone who tries hitting on you tonight.”

You pout as you watch her, pulling down your dress so it covers your knees.

“I don’t know how Ford would feel about this..”

Lizzy scoffs, shaking her head.

“Ford’s not here, and we both know he should be the last person you’re trying to impress right now. You’re still young, and attractive Y/N, you deserve to enjoy yourself for one night without him on your mind. Not to mention you’ve got to live your life without kids while you can. I know the two of you have talked about it. ”

She grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it back up, flashing you a defiant look.

“And if he has a problem with you having fun, he can talk to me.”

You sigh as you give in, knowing Lizzy wouldn’t be changing her mind about your all’s plans for the night.

“Fine, fine. But we’re not staying out too late, okay?”

Lizzy grins, victorious.

“That’s more like it! And don’t worry, I promise we won’t be out until dawn,” she assures you. “Just a few drinks, maybe a little dancing, and then we’ll come back here. You trust me, right?”

“More than anything Liz.”

And that’s how you find yourself at the bar now, one too many drinks in and slumped against Lizzy’s shoulder.

She laughs at your state, her own cheeks flushed from drinking. She slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you upright and steady in the booth the two of you occupied.

“Goodness chick, are you already trashed? We’ve barely been here an hour!” she teases, her voice lighthearted and amused.

You grumble something in response, your head spinning from the alcohol in your system. You take another sip from your glass, your tongue loose and inhibitions lowered.

“I blame you,” you slur, pointing an accusatory finger at Lizzy. “You’re a bad influence.”

Lizzy laughs loudly at your accusation, her eyes sparkling. “No one forced you to down those shots, Y/N,” she says, sliding out of the booth with ease. “I’m going to get you some water, alright? You stay right here in your seat.”

You nod lazily at her words, the idea of staying where you are very appealing. You watch groggily as she strides away, her bell bottoms and flare top in tow. She weaves through the crowd to make her way to the counter, your eyes becoming heavy.

Just as you’re starting to doze off from the alcohol, a presence suddenly sits down in the booth across from you. You blink in surprise, your vision clearing slightly as you focus on the newcomer.

Your eyes widen as you recognize your husband’s face, his features strangely serious and intense as he stares back at you. But there’s something off about him… Something otherworldly in his gaze that sends a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice cool and calculated. “If it isn’t dear Y/N. You look a little worse for wear.”

Your vision blurs as you grip the side of the table, your words slurred as you speak.

“F.. Ford?”

Ford smiles widely, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. The expression is slightly unfamiliar, different from the familiar warmth you’re used to. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“In the flesh, honey,” he drawls, his voice smooth and flirtatious.

“But I see you’ve had quite a few drinks already. Feeling a little dazed? I wonder how Sixer would feel about me seeing you in this state and not him. Hilarious!”

Your arm trembles weakly as you hold yourself up, vision blurring in and out as you sway slightly in your seat.

“Wha.. What? Why are you.. here..?”

His lips curl into a smug smirk as he eyes your disheveled form, eyes lingering on your exposed skin, clearly enjoying your confusion and intoxication.

“Oh, I had a little chat with Fordsy earlier. He agreed to let me take the reins for a few hours…”

He gives a careless shrug. “You know how he is. All work and no play. Figured I’d take advantage of the situation, hell, I even got him a new tattoo!”

You sit there, dumbfounded and wavering in and out of consciousness as your mind tried to process what Ford was talking about.

Ford’s – or rather, Bill’s – eyes rake over you again, giving an exaggerated sigh before his lips turned into a sly grin.

“You really are a sight for sore eyes, I can see why Sixer married you.”

Your thoughts are still spinning from the alcohol, making it hard to focus on the conversation. You struggle to keep yourself upright, your body feeling heavy and numb.

Bill notices your dazed state, chuckling as he gives a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“You look a little out of it, darling. You really shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Especially considering how easy it’d be to trick you into a deal right now.”

Your mind races with confusion as you stand up weakly, your gut telling you something wasn’t right as you sway back and forth, (Or maybe it was the alcohol) your vision blurring as you scan the place in search of Lizzy.

“Going somewhere? Those human legs of yours don’t look very stable!”

You wobble forward, ignoring his protests as you keep moving.

“You really should listen to me if you want to avoid that nasty bruise tomorrow!”

He calls out, and before you know it you trip, and everything goes black.

Hours later… aka early morning.

You slowly open your eyes, your head pounding and your memories fuzzy. You realize you’re lying on a couch in Lizzy’s apartment, a cool cloth pressed over what you assume to be a large tender bruise on your forehead.

Lizzy is sitting perched on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. She notices your eyes flutter open and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh thank god,” she mutters. “You had me worried for a second there. I stayed up with you all night waiting for you to wake up.”

“Liz?” you mumble, head pounding. “What the hell happened? My head is killing me..”

Her expression softens at your groggy murmur, her hand reaching out instinctively to brush the hair away from your face.

“Hey, take it easy,” she says, voice low and soothing. “You took a pretty nasty fall back at the bar. Hit your head on a table on the way down.”

Your eyes widen as your memory jogs itself.

“What..? Wait, Ford.. Ford was there?”

Lizzy freezes, her expression guarded at the mention of Ford. She averts her gaze, focusing her attention on the cloth that she’s holding against your forehead.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, her voice hesitant. “He showed up towards the end of the night when I went to grab you a water… You don’t remember?”

You think to yourself for a moment, your memory patchy and vague.

“I mean, I kind of do. But it was weird? Did something happen?”

Lizzy is silent, her gaze still firmly averted from yours. She adjusts the cloth, pressing it against your head with a little more pressure than necessary.

“Nothing happened,” she finally says, her voice tight. “You just had a little too much to drink and tripped, that’s all.”

Her words are curt and dismissive, clearly trying to downplay the situation. But there’s something in her expression, a flicker of unease that betrays her true emotions.

She glances at you briefly, her eyes meeting yours for a split second before moving back to your injury.

“Lizzy..?” you say, silently pleading with her to tell you the full truth.

She exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She knows you’re not going to let this go, and she owes you the truth.

“Alright, fine,” she mutters avoiding your gaze. “When I got back to the booth, it was exactly when you had fell..”

You listen closely, sitting yourself up slightly.

“I had noticed Ford when I got there, sure, but when I went to go help you..”

Lizzy pauses, a frown forming on her face as she continues.

“Ford laughed,” she says as her eyes meet yours, full of concern and.. fear? “And not in a lighthearted way, in a cruel mocking way Y/N..”

Lizzy lowers the cloth from your head, placing it in her lap as you sit there, dumbfounded.

“He was just… enjoying the view, I guess,” She mutters bitterly. “Like you were some kind of joke, I don’t know Y/N. It was fucking weird, really fucking weird. I didn’t like it. He laughed as if he was the one who had done it.”

Lizzy trails off, brows furrowed as she clenches her fists. While you, on the other hand, are utterly speechless.

Your mind reels with this new information, struggling to reconcile the image of Ford – laughing coldly and mockingly at your predicament - with the caring, affectionate husband you’ve known him to be your whole life.

“I… I don’t understand,” you stutter, your voice small and confused.

“He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do that. Not Ford.”

But as you say those words, you can’t help but recall the other strange things that had happened earlier that night. Ford’s detached demeanor, his unfamiliar choice of words, the way he seemed so cold and calculating. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Had something happened over the few weeks you’ve been gone? Did Ford get too deep in his research? Something wasn’t right.

As you try to make sense of the situation, Lizzy watches you with a mix of compassion and concern. She knows this is incredibly tough for you to hear, but she also seems to have her own worries about the situation.

“I don’t know Y/N,” she says quietly, her hands twisting in her lap. “It was just… so not him. I don’t know what the hell happened. But I’ve never seen him act like that before. It’s like he was a different person.”

Her voice trails off, leaving the two of you in silence as you’re both lost in thought.

Eventually, Lizzy breaks the silence, her voice sympathetic as she places a hand on top of yours.

“How about this, you rest up today, and when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the cabin to get some answers from Ford? Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside of you.

“Alright,” you murmur. “I’m still feeling pretty rough, but I’d like to see him… tonight, if possible.”

Despite your confusion and worry, you know that facing your husband and talking with him is the only way to get answers. The answers that you crave so desperately in hopes that it’ll mend your breaking heart - and marriage.

Lizzy gives you a reassuring nod.

“Of course,” she says gently. “You rest up, and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”

She stands up, gently readjusting the cloth on your head.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod, laying yourself back down.

You’re going to need it to cross the bridge that awaits you tonight.

READER AND BILL INTERACTION WOOP WOOP!! Also I’m not gonna lie, I feel like I messed up the timeline a little bit but I’m just gonna go for it. Thank you for reading! :)

Tag List: @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @violetvsworld @inquiit @catr4dora

[pickingupmymercedes]

It sounds silly - Lewis Hamilton

Request: "Also if you have time or want to could you write something where the reader is struggling with a self image issue and where Lewis gives words of encouragement?" -@chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: bit of angst, self image problems, body image discussions.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Tooth rooting fluff coming right up. I mean it, you guys are not ready for the levels of softness in this. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the request. My mind went wild with this one.

a/n.2: BTW a good friend of mine proof read it and we tried something different with the writting, so please give me a heads up on what you guys feel and how it compares to the previous fics

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The reason you gave for canceling your dinner date with Lewis seemed trivial, even childish. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, confronting your reflection—a vulnerable woman who felt the sting of her insecurities more acutely than she'd like to admit. The muted light from the overhead fixture highlighted the lines of worry on your face, adding to the ambiance of tension that filled the room.

You had told Lewis that a migraine was to blame, but there you were, with smudged makeup and half-curled hair, staring at an Instagram post that had reignited old insecurities. The post was a fan-made video showcasing all of Lewis's past girlfriends, and while he seemed content with each of them, his smile was undeniably brightest with you. But you couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy when comparing yourself to his past, seemingly flawless partners.

The doorbell interrupted your thoughts. Hoping Lewis would get the hint and leave, you chose not to answer, however, when the familiar jingle of keys met your ears, you realized he was using the spare key you’d given him.

"Hey, love, where are you?" Lewis's voice resonated through the apartment. The ambient lighting in your living room painted a warm glow around him, accentuating his concerned expression. The soft, muted tones of the decor and the comforting scent of your favorite candle filled the space, an atmosphere of intimacy and familiarity to a place he was around often.

He found you in the bathroom, a vision of distress with red, swollen eyes. "What happened? Why didn't you answer the door?" he asked softly, taking in your disheveled appearance.

You hesitated, reluctant to admit the true reason for your emotional turmoil. "I told you I had a migraine," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Sensing there was more to your distress, Lewis gently tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Look at me, please," he requested softly.

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. "I know it's silly, Lewis," you began, already apologizing in advance, your voice quivering. "I'm a grown woman who’s achieved success in life, yet… I find myself comparing to those other women."

His expression softened, but there was a hint of persistence in his eyes. "I sense there's more you're not telling me,” he said gently. "Love, talk to me."

Swallowing hard, you admitted, "I... I saw something on Instagram." Tears welled up again as you continued, "A fan-made video of all your past girlfriends. They were all so... beautiful and skinny. And then there’s me."

Understanding dawned on Lewis's face as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. "Oh, love," he murmured, his voice filled with an empathetic thone that only made things worse.

You buried your face in his chest, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability wash over you. "I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of how your insecurities got the best of you.

"Don't be," Lewis reassured you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm committed to us, to what we have. You're the one I've chosen and it’s not because of comparisons."

As you clung to each other, the weight of your insecurities began to lift, replaced by the comforting and understanding presence of the man who loved you deeply. His hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles as he whispered words of reassurance.

Wanting to shift the atmosphere and distract from the emotional weight of the conversation, Lewis suggested, "How about we make dinner together tonight?"

You nodded, grateful for the idea of focusing on something else. "Sounds good."

"How about pasta? It's quick, and I think you’ll have the ingredients," Lewis replied, already heading towards the kitchen.

As Lewis began to gather the necessary ingredients, he felt a strong urge to show you just how beautiful he found your body. Wanting to uplift your spirits and reaffirm his admiration for you, he started to become more affectionate.

While stirring the sauce on the stove, Lewis wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close to him. He pressed soft kisses along the side of your neck, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your hips and sides.

"You know," he whispered, his voice husky, "I've always found you incredibly sexy, just the way you are."

A warmth spread through you, not just from the heat of the stove but from the genuine affection and desire in Lewis's touch and words. It was moments like these that made you feel cherished and desired, erasing the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you earlier.

"I love you," you whispered, turning in his arms to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I love you too," Lewis replied, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. "And I'll keep reminding you every day until you believe it."

Feeling the weight of the emotional conversation lifting, you decided to show Lewis the video that had triggered your insecurities. Taking a deep breath, you handed him your phone, pointing to the Instagram post.

Lewis took the phone from your outstretched hand, unlocking it to search for the video you mentioned. He watched it in silence, his expression thoughtful as he took in each frame. When the video ended, he set his phone down and looked at you with a soft smile.

"I've had my fair share of relationships in the past, but with you, it's different. I want you to know that," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

You looked into his eyes, hesitating for a moment before opening up. "It feels so childish. You're a superstar, and I can't help but compare myself to your past. I know it sounds silly.”

Understanding filled Lewis's eyes as he took a step closer, gently cupping your face. "I understand why you’d feel that way, but you have to know, that to me, you are more than enough. I chose you for who you are, not for how you compare to anyone else."

His words, though simple, held a depth of sincerity that touched your heart, easing the sting of your insecurities. You nodded slowly, taking in his reassuring presence.

"Thank you for being so understanding," you finally said, your voice filled with gratitude and relief.

"I'm always here for you." Lewis said, squeezing your hand gently.

As the evening wore on and dinner was ready, Lewis took a step back, extending his hand towards you. "May I have this dance?" he asked with a playful grin.

You chuckled at the unexpected request. "But there's no music."

"Who needs music?" Lewis replied, a tender smile on his face. "I just want to hold you close and dance with you."

Gratefully accepting his hand, you allowed Lewis to pull you close, placing one hand on his shoulder while he held you securely around the waist. As you began to move slowly together, you felt the gentle rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

There was no need for music. The silence between you was filled with the unspoken words of love, understanding, and acceptance. As you held each other in a tender embrace, the warmth and closeness spoke volumes, conveying love, reassurance, and unwavering support without the need for words.

In the quiet intimacy of your living room, swaying gently together, you found solace in Lewis's presence. With him by your side, you felt not just loved, but truly cherished. You knew that with him, you could open up without fear of judgment, feeling understood and supported in every moment.

As the night deepened, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your home and him. With each passing moment, you felt more connected, more understood, and more cherished. The insecurities that once plagued you were now distant, replaced by the undeniable truth of Lewis's unwavering support.

He pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a mischievous grin. "We should make our own video." playfully winking at you, trying to lighten the mood further.

You laughed, swatting him lightly on the arm. The playful banter was exactly what you needed to dispel the last of your insecurities and bring a genuine smile to your face. With a chuckle, Lewis pulled you close once more, relishing in the sound of your laughter. "I mean it, though," he whispered, his voice filled with love and a hint of mischief. "I want to capture all our beautiful moments together."

Blushing at his boldness, you shook your head, your heart swelling with love for the man who always knew how to lift you up. "Maybe one day," you teased, "but for now, let's just enjoy this, yeah?!"

Lewis nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "Sounds perfect," he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing your love and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[strwberri-milk]

Hiii! I really love your work and if it's not a problem, could you write fic with LADs boys (it can be only Zayne ) and the reader like did something wrong and upset them , and to make it up for them she said that she will do whatever they want.(it also can be smut ,hurt/comfort if you don't mind ●\\\● )

Take you time ,Bye ♡

yall the sylus pv going INSANE what do you mean he has everything wdym hes bad boy zen /j - also i think these boys are WAY too soft and itd actually be. kinda hard to piss them off lolol

You never feel like you've done something wrong around Zayne because he very rarely actually reacts to anything that you do. He's so used to your antics that nothing ever really throws him off. If you've done something you know is wrong you immediately look for him or look at him if he's there, trying to gauge his reaction.

When you've actually upset him he'll just sigh and shake his head, working to correct whatever it was that went wrong immediately. You get a sinking feeling in your stomach, at a loss for words as he goes into his office to work quietly.

He'll never ever be mad at you but that doesn't stop you from feeling miserable, quietly making your way into his office with some desserts from a cafe he hasn't been able to try yet. You don't really say anything as you slide them onto his desk but he can tell how upset you are with the fact that you refuse to look at him.

He grabs your hand and pulls you onto his lap, giving you the first bite of the sweet treat as he holds you close. It's a wordless way for him to show you how much he loves you and that he's not mad at you. He'll just remind you to be a little more careful next time and that's that.

When you offer to do anything he wants his eyes widen a little. He doesn't know what you're getting at but now that you're no longer upset and touching him gently he understands what you're getting at. He'll tease you all night, drawing things out as a punishment for misbehaving.

Xavier gets even softer when he's upset. He doesn't want to say anything in fear of saying something he can't take back and likes to go cool off in the form of a walk or working out. He deals with his energy in physical means, not really being one for words.

The longer he stays out the more you panic, trying not to blow up his phone. You don't want him to think that you don't trust him on his own - you're just worried you've messed everything up. You tell him that he can do anything he wants to make up for it - if you can give it to him you will.

When he comes back he'll almost be acting like nothing happened. That's not really something he's doing on purpose - it's just because he doesn't really know how to talk about what happened. He's just going to try and bring it up over the next few days if you don't prompt conversation. He wants to resolve the issues after all, not just let things fester. However, that does mean you've subjected yourself as being part of the physical process for his emotional turmoil. You don't have to do much - he has enough energy for the two of you. You'll have to be okay with being twisted every which way - he's not going to let you rest for a while.

Rafayel being upset means that you won't hear the end of it. He'll go on and on - unless he's actually furious with you. He'll be at a total loss for words, unable to even look at you as he vents through an especially intense looking painting or sculpture. You might have to give him a day or two to cool off, but if you completely go no contact with him he'll totally lose his mind. Just text him once a day or something and he'll be less likely to get upset with you for abandoning him in addition to whatever it was you did in the first place.

He has a habit of ignoring problems as well, so if you don't bring it up he won't talk about it until he blows up again. It'd be best for you to get him to talk to you about what just happened - and once you're done he's going to take you up on the offer of doing anything he wants.

You won't be able to walk by the time he's done with you. He's got pages and pages of your form scrawled out in his sketchbook, a whole new gallery of secret photos that are for his eyes only. He's also got a lot of energy so it'll be a long while until he's finally done with you.

[xxselenite]

٠ ࣪⭑ Leave behind all of Cupid's arrows and quivers | Jacaerys x reader

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 2.1k words Summary: You've had feelings for your best friend Jace for a while now and he has agreed to help you rehearse your lines for your theatre play, but things take an unexpected turn. Warning: none, pure fluff. If anything, reader is down bad and a little insecure a/n: The title and the play quoted is Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. It's one of my favourite French plays and I absolutely encourage you to read it! This is also a very self-indulgent fic considering I've acted for eight years, don't mind me haha. English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake! feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)

Sitting on the edge of your bed where you could catch the most sunlight, you skimmed through the script of the play until you reached a page covered in highlights and spiderly handwriting. The notes went from deep character analysis to little jokes written here and there and smiley faces drawn by your castmates.

“Alright, act three, scene six!” You declared, handing the paper to Jace who was lying on your bed by your side, his eyes half-open. He let go of the plushies he was playing with to grab your notes. “This is the second most iconic scene of the play, though I don’t have that many lines, so it should be quick,” you added.

Jace sat up and squinted to decipher the annotations on the page, a smile appearing on his face as he read the stupid puns you had found.

“You’re being super professional,” he rolled his eyes.

You chuckled. “You’re being unfair? I joined the theatre club for funsies, I did not expect to land this role.” Your face twisted into a scowl. “Most of the things I write in there are useful though. I don’t want to act like a killjoy so others don’t think I’m annoying, but I still want to prove I was the right person to cast for Roxane.”

Jace lowered the script to look at you and passed his hand in his hair to put it back into place. “You do deserve that,” he told you with a gentle tone and you tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach his praise and soft gaze had created, cursing yourself internally. You had never wanted to develop feelings for your best friend in the first place, you knew it was a bad idea, but it was too late now. Love was there, deeply rooted in the daydreams in which he kissed you during the golden hour, when your bedroom was bathed in light.

Falling in love with Jace was as easy as breathing. Of course, he was handsome, but it was not just a shallow little crush. He was nice, and sweet, and funny. He cared about you and listened to you when you needed to. He gave you good advice but knew when you just needed comfort. He had been there for you when you were at your lowest and no one else was there. He had the cutest smile ever and gave the best hugs. The list went on and on, anything he did was just making you fall a little harder.

But this love, sweet as honey, was also as sticky and sickening. You indulged in the sweet moments when he hugged you or complimented you, but it also made you feel guilty and, well, desperate. You were convinced this love could only be one-sided – Jace was perfect, everyone at your high school liked him. And you were… you. You knew each other since you were kids, there was no way he would ever see you as something more than a friend. And you were relatively okay with this, you would rather keep being this close to him without anything more than risk losing it all.

Perhaps your turmoil of emotions appeared on your face, or it was just Jace’s ability to read you like an open book, but he frowned and asked you if you were okay. You immediately regained your composure to answer in a way you hoped was natural.

“Yes, I was just thinking it must be pretty boring for you to help me rehearse my lines. We don’t have to do the whole play today. We don’t even need to do the whole thing, I can finish on my own.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have said I’d help you if it bothered me. It’s fun actually, and you’re a great actress.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and cleared your throat.

“I try my best! Although this is one of the scenes that scares me a bit.”

“Why so?”

“Okay, so this scene is with the love triangle between Christian, Cyrano and Roxane. You know the story, Christian is handsome but a bit dumb, Cyrano is ugly but quick-witted and a great speaker, and they both want Roxane. Cyrano decides to aid his buddy Christian and hides and prompts Christian who talks to Roxane under her balcony.”

“A balcony scene, like in Romeo and Juliet?”

“Precisely. But at some point, Cyrano starts talking instead of Christian and makes a beautiful declaration to Roxane because this is at night and she can’t see him. As I said, Roxane has very few lines but you see her falling for who she thinks Christian is, and I have to make this very clear to the audience.”

It’s not going to be hard to pretend that with you… You thought to yourself, looking away from the boy.

Jace nodded thoughtfully, reading the first lines of the scene again.

“Alright, where am I supposed to stand?” He asked you, looking up again.

“I guess I could get up on my bed and you go in front of me, on the floor? This way I’ll be a bit above, like with a balcony?”

The boy followed your indications and helped you find your balance on your bed. You weren’t used to this angle and seeing his eyes from above made you melt. You knew that they were beautiful, blessed with thick eyelashes you were jealous of, but it was like you were discovering them for the first time.

Once you could stand comfortably, Jace started the scene, changing his voice and attitude for Cyrano and Christian. His way of acting both characters earned a chuckle from you.

“Am I doing this wrong?” He briefly interrupted, shooting you a worried glance.

“Not at all, you’re nailing it! You should have joined the company, it would have been fun.”

“I’m not sure it would have been a good idea if I made you break character.”

“I’m much more professional on a stage than in the privacy of my bedroom.”

“If you say so…” He smirked before continuing the scene, and you thought you’d do anything to frame this moment and keep it forever. The warm afternoon light, the slight breeze, the smell of your vanilla candle, everything about it was perfect, like out of a fairytale.

Your first line, “Who calls me?” came out a bit trembling when you met Jace’s intense gaze, and you forced yourself to look away, reminding yourself that Roxane could not see her interlocutor, let alone lose herself in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you focused and the following lines went swiftly.

But as the scene progressed and Cyrano’s declarations got gradually passionate, it became harder and harder for you to put your feelings aside. You repeated yourself that it was all acting and that Jace was, unfortunately for you, a very talented actor. Everything, from the tone of his voice to the way he looked at you, made him look like an enamoured boy, and a specific line acted as the final nail in the coffin.

“I love you! I am mad! I am suffocating with love for you! Your name rings in my heart like a bell. When I think of you, I tremble, and the bell shakes and rings out your name! Everything you do I love! I remember every action of yours that I ever witnessed! I know that last year on the twelfth of May, you changed the way you wore your hair. I am so used to taking your hair for daylight itself that, just as one stares at the sun and sees a red blot on all things, when I turn away after looking at you, I see a radiant image imprinted on everything!”

You closed your eyes as he finished speaking and clenched your fists as you whispered your answer, opening your eyes again

“Yes, this is love.”

You knew Roxane was supposed to be in a sort of emotional turmoil at this moment and that your reaction, if a bit excessive, was not out of character, counting on that fact not to attract Jace’s attention. Yet, his gaze softened and he frowned a little to show his concern, but you nodded to tell him to keep going. This was another thing you cherished about your relationship with him; he could understand you without needing any word.

With a little hesitation, he continued the scene, but from this moment on, his eyes did not leave your frame on the edge of the bed, towering over him but looking so fragile. He walked a little closer to the edge of the bed, as if he was expecting you to faint and wanted to catch you.

You reached the climax of the scene a few minutes later. You knew it was coming from the beginning, the moment where Christian, high on enthusiasm to see Roxane fall in love, asks for a kiss. The kiss does not happen in the scene, Cyrano backtracks, but the demand creates an immediate tension in the scene. Yes, you knew it was coming. Nevertheless, when you Jace said “a kiss,” it felt like a punch in your guts. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, God knew what you would have given to kiss them just once, for a second.

Your brain was moving slowly, like it was underwater, and you couldn’t find your next line. No matter how hard you tried to remember it, your mind was blank, all you could do was stare at him in awe. When your eyes left his lips after what seemed to be an eternity, he was looking at you, his face a few centimetres away from yours. You could see every detail on his skin and smell the faint fragrance of his cologne.

You blinked, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were on yours. They were soft, and warm, and a little hesitant. You returned the kiss without even realising it, lips parting and hands flat against his chest while his own hands found your hips and held you still to prevent you from falling from your bed.

Jace broke the kiss, too quickly in your opinion, but it had been enough to tie the wires in your brain even tighter and the only thing that you managed to blurt out was a pathetic: “This isn’t in the script.”

Your best friend chuckled, still holding you. His touch was gentle but it was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I really hope the look on your face is surprise and not pure horror.” He said, and you sensed the nervousness behind his light-hearted tone. You hadn’t even realised your eyes were open wide. You shook your head and carefully grabbed Jace’s hands, keeping them between your two bodies.

“Why did you kiss me, Jace?” You made sure that your voice was soft and your question genuine, so that he couldn’t interpret it as a blame.

The boy seemed to be taken aback for a split second and looked for reassurance in your eyes, which he seemed to find as he licked his lips and answered.

“Cyrano’s words. They’re mine. I mean, they’re not exactly mine, they’re way more eloquent than I can be. But what they say matches what I feel. This whole scene, it’s… It’s acting, but it’s not. I mean it.” He started fidgeting with your fingers. “I’ve been feeling like this for a little while now I think, but I’ve never really admitted it to myself.”

“What changed then?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe the fact you joined the theatre club? You’re so radiant when you talk about it, let alone when you’re on stage. You- you shine like a star in the night, and I realised I loved you more than a friend, I was just too scared to do anything, because losing you would be worse.”

You let a nervous laugh escape your lips and Jace seemed startled by the crystalline sound.

“Oh Jace,” you sighed, “we are so ridiculous. I’ve been feeling the very same thing for months, and I was standing there letting the fear devour me.”

“Seriously?” The word slipped out of Jace’s mouth in a whisper which you barely caught and you nodded in the same discreet, almost secretive way.

You kept quiet for a little while, gazing into each other’s eyes. Outside, the birds were chirping in the garden. The rumble of the cars was echoing from the more active parts of the cities. The breeze was causing the curtains to flow at a low rhythm. And you two felt like the only people in the world.

[readychilledwine]

hi, would it he okay to request one where it’s reader x azriel and they’ve been struggling with fertility/getting pregnant. And after a while reader finds out she’s not only pregnant but with triplets😭😭 and they’re all crying happy tears together sith the ic and celebrate😭😍

I was struggling with fertility and finally got pregnant after so long and I couldn’t be happier, so seeing dad az would be so amazing, but I read ur latest post so if it’s a lot then please feel free to ignore ❤️❤️

No. This is perfect. I can do this. 💙💙

Azriel Week Day 6 Prompt - Past and Future - Threefold

Summary - After years of trying and unsuccessful attempts, you and Azriel finally receive everything you've asked and prayed for threefold.

Warnings - high-risk pregnancy, labor (nothing graphic), babies, illusions to miscarriages, inferred toll of pregnancy on mental health (its hard.)

A/n - this fit too perfectly for @azrielappreciationweek dad Az is my favorite to write as a father simply because his inner child deserves to heal 💜

Madja and Rhys held your upper body as another bout of sickness ripped through your stomach. You hadn't felt right for several days now. You were exhausted and irritable, and lately, nothing has stayed down.

Rhys pulled your hair back, rubbing small circles into your back. "I can call for Azriel, y/n," he offered again. "He's only doing some follow up things in Windhaven. There are no new issues."

Madja looked at the High Lord. Calling for him silently in her mind. It was clear to the healer what was going on, and she wanted you on bed arrest immediately. You and Azriel had been trying and struggling to have a babe for years. She inclined her head to Rhys, motioning for him to follow her.

"She's pregnant," she boldly said. "The scent is faint, meaning it's early, but her morning sickness indicates multiples." Rhysand's face fell, joy, happiness, fear, sadness all washing over him. You and Azriel were the last of the circle without children.

He and Feyre had 4, Cassian and Nesta had 2, Lucien and Elain had 2. Even Mor and Armen had adopted children. But you and Azriel? You had been trying for years now, and unsuccessful attempt after attempt had led to you two in long fights, heartache, and emotional turmoil.

"Were they even trying?"

Madja nodded at the question. "We tried one last alternative method. It was very painful for her. That's why I need you to command her to bedrest, Rhysand. For them."

The High Lord reentered the bathroom, gently picking you up after you finished brushing your teeth and began the pathway to your room. "You're done working for today. I'm calling for Azriel." Madja opened the door for him, watching as he gently set you down on the soft sheets and blankets you had already started subconsciously nesting with. "You will not leave this bed unless one of us is here with you."

The Riverhouse set food and water on the table, indicatine needed you needed to eat. "Madja, what's going on?"

The old healer looked at you. "I'll be able to give you a better answer once Azriel is here and I examine you."

Azriel flew hard. Not wanting to be away a single second longer after Rhysand's urgent message. He landed with a thud, and instantly went into Rhysand's office where he and Cassian sat in silence. "Where is she? What's wrong?"

Rhys motioned for him to sit and Cassian handed him the whiskey he was nursing. Rhys sighed, "She's pregnant. Madja thinks there's multiple. You're both done. You will distribute your missions until further notice and stay with your mate." Rhys paused as Azriel threw back the expensive whiskey. "Madja is with her and waiting for you for the exam."

You were laid back, Azriel holding your soft hand in his scarred ones near his mouth as he kissed each knuckle. Madja was glowing, hands over your abdomen. You watched her mouth twitch and Rhysand stop pacing in the corner before he started to just laugh. "You are indeed pregnant, my dear. With three healthy developing children. Maybe 6 weeks." Azriel's face fell first, looking at Rhysand in panic. "I will leave you two with your High Lord. He is aware of my opinion given your history." Madja left the from gracefully, a firm smile cemented on her face as she walked into the hallway where the Inner Circle waited.

Rhysand moved to the foot of the bed, leaned on the post as he looked between you and Azriel. "You're on bed rest. You will not leave this bed or go anywhere alone. No training. No long walks. No long trips into town. We," he motioned between himself and Azriel, "will set the nursery. You, my dearest y/n, will no longer lift a damn finger." Azriel had not moved, his eyes locked on you. Rhys took the silent message, leaving the room as Azriel moved onto the bed with you, his mouth immediately on yours as that dam broke and tears began to fall.

"3?" He asked in shock, a hand going to your stomach. "And 6 weeks? You're already to where-"

"I know," you interrupted softly. "If we can make it 2 more weeks, it'll be the furthest we've made it." Azriel's hand tilted your head to his, and he kissed you softly.

Azriel paused. "Rhys is asking Madja if she'd be willing to stay here with her own chambers. They're also all setting up a rotation to ensure one of them is always with us."

You nodded, hand going over his to rest on your stomach. "3."

"3," he whispered back.

6 weeks passed without complications. At, 12 weeks and you were halfway to that safe period Madja had promised. The healer had her hand over your stomach, glowing in her magic and happiness.

"Such healthy little heartbeats." You felt Azriel's body language relax and his hand gently squeeze yours. "Everything looks very healthy so far. I will not lift the bedrest, though."

You looked at Azriel, silently pleading for him to advocate for you and were met with a soft apologetic gaze. "No," he commanded softly. "You stay here. I stay here. We stay here." House arrest, bed rest, that was the only issue so far. You were used to your work, to running daily, to anything but this. Madja left with a small smile as Azriel whispered thank you, and you began to cry. "I know, my love-"

"No you don't. You do not know what it's like to be trapped here. I can't even go outside without Rhys or Cassian appearing out of fucking no where. I miss the sun, the grass." You took a deep breath. "I am confined to this house and it's many walls for the well being of our babies. I understand that, but what about my well being, Azriel? What about my mental health?"

Azriel looked down, your normally selfless mate. "I'm sorry, y/n, but until I know something as simple as laying in the sun won't hurt them, I will support you being in the home, maintaining low stress levels. I will see if I can find a compromise. Perhaps an atrium? I know you've always wanted one."

You woke up to that the very next day, Azriel, Rhys, Lucien, and Cassian were all shirtless with other workers. A room facing your favorite garden had been wrecked, the furniture all moved. They had started at sunrise and at nightfall it stopped. Between magic, skills, and your husband refusing a break, you had a skylit atrium. Rhysand moved to you, covered in dirt and sweat, tilting your chin to place a small kiss on your temple, then Cassian, then Lucien, the last leaving his hand ok your already large stomach for a little while with a happy smile.

Azriel was moving the furniture back, shadows assisting every step of the way. He finally entered the room, lifting you gently from the chair you were reading in, and placing you in the lounging couch he had moved into the full glass room.

"Az-"

"I love you," he interrupted. "And I'm sorry you're having to make this sacrifice for us and our family, but please know I love you. Please know I am just worried. We've lost so much, too many already. Please, y/n, meet me here. Let this be our common ground until Madja says otherwise."

You had no choice but to nod, eyes locked on the beautiful night sky you had not seen in what felt like months. "I'm hungry." Azriel smiled at the statement. His eyes lit up as he felt your gentle caving down the bond. "Could you perhaps bathe and feed me? Maybe out here?" Azriel nodded, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Before you blinked, your third trimester was half way over, and suddenly bedrest was all you could think about. You were uncomfortable, large, constantly feeling as if the babes were using you as a personal playground. You and the Twins were in the kitchen when it happened, tight pain shot through your stomach and wetness came, your hand flew to Cerridwen and she supported you immediately, screaming for Madja as she moved you to sit.

The next several hours blurred together. Rhysand appearing and having Cassian help him carry you to a tub per Madja's request. Him holding your mind as he apologized over and over.

It made sense that this was happening now. The one time there was a mission that required Azriel. The one time he was in the Mortal Lands, having to spy on the Queen furthest from your home. Rhysand held your hand through the process, Cassian helping support your body as every inch of you felt like giving up and going out.

Until that first scream came. That first wail of life. That first tiny little body handled to one of the twins, small perfect wings intact. "Push, y/n," Rhys whispered softly. "They need their siblings." It could have been but moments, possibly hours. You didn't know. But a second cry came followed by the door slamming open and Azriel running to your side, allowing Rhysand to move and help with the babes.

"I'm so sorry," you kept saying, guilt hitting you at his bittersweet joy of missing two of the babes being born. "I-"

"It's okay. I'm here for this one." Azriel kissed your temple. "Two have wings, my love. You are doing so well."

The third cry came soon after, your body wanting to be done before finally giving out as Azriel and Cassian waited for Madja to heal you the best she could. She nodded and they removed you from the tub, body absolute done as you rested in Azriel's chest.

Cassian had gone to the babes, his excitement too heavy. Soon the whole Inner Circle and Nyx sat in the room, waiting for Madja to begin the announcements. She walked one of the babies to you, "First Born, winged, healthy weight for a triplet. Boy." Azriel stilled, his grip on your hand tightening.

Rhys walked the second over, a familiar soft look in his eyes, "Second born, winged, also healthy and hungry. Boy."

Cassian was sobbing holding his little bundle, looking at Azriel and then nodding. Your mate's dam broke, handing you the two sons instantly and reaching for the baby Cassian had. "Third born. Wingless for now, we all know that won't be the case forever, though. A little smaller than Madja would like. Girl."

Azriel held her close, his eyes locked on her perfect little face as tears fell. "You promised," he reminded you gently. You were too busy, admiring your boys to even respond. They were holding hands, both searching for their sister. "Y/n."

You broke your stare, brows knit in confusion. "They're your lineage, Azriel. You know you have last say in their names." Madja and the Inner Circle now stood closer as Azriel studied the babes one by one, never letting go of his daughter.

"Ophelia," he handed her gently to you. "After my mother." He took one of the boys, stroking his little cheek softly. He was holding the second born, who was wearing a serious pout. The was the largest of the three, little wings trying to stretch already on his back. "Ramiel. Because I have a gut feeling." Nyx laughed gently, silently asking to take his cousin and get him situated for a bottle. Azriel gave him to his nephew, a look of warning on his face. He took the oldest, who immediately took a scarred finger into his tiny hands. "Opinions, love," he asked you before realizing you were feeding your daughter. "She just decided to latch on there, huh?"

"Pretty much," you looked at your oldest son, the second smallest. Face all smiles. "Arnan," you looked to Armen. "After his aunt who found the method that brought them into the world." She was at Azriel's side immediately, taking the babe from him without him even putting up a fight.

*3 months later*

You and Azriel sat in the nursery. The boys in his arms, feeding softly from bottles, your daughter in yours breastfeeding. Figuring out a schedule to ensure all of them breastfed once or twice a day had been difficult but the routine was easy now. Ophelia slept best through the night after skin to skin and breastfeeding. Arnan was less fussy in the mornings when his breakfast came directly from you. Ramiel napped better after an afternoon breast feeding. "They're holding their heads up so well," Azriel cooed. "My strong boys." He was a male obsessed and in love. He was frequently out your shared bed at night, and you'd find him, sleeping with all three of them on his broad bare chest in the nursery. He was the perfect father despite not having an example of how to be one.

"I think our sweet girl will get there soon," you kept watch on her, holding her little hand as she reached for you. "We're just a Danity little thing, though so Heaven forbid daddy has to carry and coddle us more." You teased them both as Azriel's jaw dropped.

"I can't help it, love. Look at her, look at those eyes, that nose, her little smile. I'll carry her to Spring and back by foot." He stood, burping both of the boys and laid them in their cribs before coming to sit in front of his girl. "I want her when you're done."

"You say that until they poop."

"They're so warm and happy after breastfeedings, y/n." He watched as she unlatched by choice, reaching for her father's familiar voice and he took her. "And her belly is all full. And she's so happy. My little star. The perfect ending to our family's constellation." He walked her to her crib, continuing to coo her. "All of my little stars," he turned their mobiles on, watching as they all slowly shut their eyes and then walked to you.

He left the door open a crack, escorting you to your adjoining bedroom. Once inside he kissed you, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he did, and rested his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"I love you too. Let's go to bed. Please. They hardly napped at all today. Nyx got them that damn toy and I am still deciding if our nephew gets to live." Azriel laughed quietly, moving to the bed with a hand holding yours. "Perhaps tonight you could stay here."

He paused, staring at you as he pulled the blanket over you two. "I don't know what you're talking about." His cheeks were slightly flushed. "I always stay the night here."

You kissed his hand. "Of course you do, Azzie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, y/n."

[chaithetics]

Desperate to Please

Pairing: Kendall Roy x f (afab) reader Word count: 4.3K Warning: 18+ MDNI interact, my attempt at sexual tension, smut, language warning, a couple of references to canonical-esque drug use and toxic Roy family dynamics, bit of angst I guess? Not proof-read and run on sentences. Reader has no physical descriptions, it's you! A/N: HAPPY SUCCESSION SUNDAY! I hope you all enjoy this Kendall brainrot, I was a bit scared as this was my first time writing a Kendall fic, I'd only written him in Stewy x Roy reader fics before. I hope you all enjoy this! Big thank you to @waystarkia and @maraschinodreamo for enabling this! You're amazing besties, I adore you and I needed your support, big forehead kisses! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶 My last few fics have been big flops so extra nervous!

You remember when he glided through the corridors of Harvard. How every party you went to and that you had a pit of dread in your stomach over as it could’ve been three hours devoted to rereading the assigned readings and going over your notes. He was there, always there, laughing with a giggling, intimate crowd and snorting powdered lines off any and every surface. 

It gave you a bitter, metallic taste in your mouth. How easy it was for him, how even when he flew too close to the sun there were always a million doors open for him, you couldn’t help but feel envious of that. 

When you needed to maintain a certain GPA for your scholarships, had to wear sweaters down to the last thread, keep up with the readings, the extracurriculars, any internships, anything and everything to get your foot in the door. It was miserable and intense. 

While there was something alluring in how much of a window to his soul those brown eyes were, you didn’t have time to look in them long enough to see a world of emotional turmoil and toxic family dynamics. 

He didn’t say much about his family, ever. And when he did, it was dismissive, deflective, perfectly media trained, he’d speak just like a politician he’d deflect the question and never satisfy the questioner. To the point that if you were in a bad mood, you’d wonder if even his pauses of ‘uh’ and ‘like’ were calculated. 

There was a collection of the finest, custom-tailored suits with his killer initials monogrammed, just waiting for him to slip them on. You weren’t old money and you definitely weren’t new money, your academic and professional career had been a never ending fight just to get a seat at the table. You couldn’t stand it, you would bite your tongue whenever you became nauseated from being in a room too long that reeked of the nepotism cologne they all assaulted your senses with. It was a slap against your face.

If he wasn’t so entitled, when you first met him you might’ve swooned over him, you would’ve swooned over him. Without a doubt. It just wasn’t a fun thing to admit to yourself, not back then and not now. 

You’d climbed a ladder, working hard, offering a polite but intelligent demeanour with a meticulous academic record and a work ethic that gave capitalism a boner. It had all led to a pretty sweet (enormously stressful) gig at Pierce Global Media. It made sense, you’d spend your college days side-eyeing him whenever he spoke or did anything at a party, racing a race he didn’t even know he was running in. Of course you’d end up working at his family’s competition. The politics of PGM also made it a lot easier to sleep at night, you could never imagine working at Waystar, ATN made you gag. 

You had a nice wardrobe and the bank account to prove ‘success’, you might've been petty but you still felt resentment over him, even if the trajectory of his life wasn't so smooth. But you were too busy to keep track of the countless edits on his Wikipedia page. He probably had assistants continuously rectify them.  

You didn't spare a thought to Kendall Roy or the suits walking in and out of country clubs. Except for when he was name dropped in PGM articles and broadcasts. That was all he was worth. It was all you’d allow him to be worth in your post-college, shiny grown up lives. 

And of course at moments like right now, when you’re on the clock and have to smile through the torture of corporate events like the heavily photographed and stressful galas and award shows. Fundraisers that are an excuse for sealing secret deals, getting wasted and showing off who was able to get the finest threads. 

Kendall was present of course, playing his usual role of the charming dancing monkey barely maintaining his father’s approval. 

He stood across the room, wearing a dark suit, freshly shaven while holding a thin, fragile glass in his hand. Kendall smiled as he mingled and networked like the trained pup he was, it was his party trick after a lifetime of these endless events and shallow faces. 

You went to bite your lip as you looked at him while a PGM comms employee spoke to you. It was only the thought of messing up your lipstick that stopped you. 

Kendall Roy was hot though, despite everything you’d have to give him that at the least. Begrudgingly. 

After going to the restroom and making sure you still looked perfectly presentable, you couldn’t help but still feel out of place at these events. No matter how much you climbed up the ladder, it was a severe case of imposter syndrome. 

You’d come out of the restroom and almost bumped into Kendall. “Oh shit!” You said, gasping as you placed a hand on your chest. 

He placed a hand on your arm to steady you, as if you were at risk of falling over. His touch burned you and it sent a shiver up your spine. “You okay?” He asked as his eyes raked over you, checking you were okay and then slowly taking in the view from head to toe. “Yeah, yeah, just gave me a fright. Sorry.” You respond, meeting his eyes as he looks back at your face. 

His hand is still on your arm, you can feel the heat of it radiating through to the rest of your body, and it is doing something to the most sensitive parts of you. 

You move slightly so that his hand falls down and he quickly returns it to his side and you pretend to adjust your dress as if you hadn’t been doing that two minutes ago in the bathroom. You try to avoid his eyes as you do this, you don’t want him to get the chance to see how that touch made you feel, the idea of it makes you feel sick to your stomach. “I didn’t expect to see you here, thought you’d be worried about some uh, kitchen cross-contamination.” He says as his eyes focus on your face. “I am, there’s a bottle of Purell in my purse and I have a bathtub filled with disinfectant waiting for me at home.” You quip back. 

“Uh huh, so pick your poison? Buried alive or in a conversation with a scary billionaire.” He raises an eyebrow as a slightly smug smile starts to grace his handsome face. 

“Buried alive.” You look into his eyes, and you almost want to melt with how he’s looking at you, as if he can read your mind and see everything. Giving you his full attention. “Worms would be easier company.” Kendall’s head tips down for a moment and he nods while chuckling, it’s a dry sound and you fight the urge to pick at your nails as you watch him chuckle. “Sure, sure, sure. I mean you did say easier instead of like, better. So my ego’s not completely bruised.” He says with a smirk as he looks down at his shoes. 

“I hear verbal punches aren’t doing it these days.” You say as you watch him, his gaze leaves the floor as it combs through you again, taking in your appearance appreciatively and a glint of something else burns in his eyes for a moment. “There’s other ways to impact an ego. I know you can do more than bruise it.” He says quietly in a low voice made just for your ears. 

You almost freeze at that, you can feel it run through your whole body, shooting through your spine and the air you’d just inhaled feels trapped. Screaming for a way out. You exhale slowly, avoiding his gaze as your eyes latch onto a waiter and you politely stop him as you take a tall glass off of the platter he’s holding. The taste is a sensory respite from Kendall's existence and you focus on that as you take a sip and hold the glass for dear life. 

“What? I drive you, speechless?” He teases as he watches you with a smirk, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks. 

“I’d disagree.” You whisper looking back at him finally, feeling a little more composed despite your heart still beating faster than a rabbit. 

“You’re not chatty for an old Harvard friend, never have been.” He says as if this observation is something new and fascinating. 

“An old Harvard friend? My invitation to the boys club seemed to have been lost in the mail, quite a delay, you might want to change your postal provider.” You quickly retort and sip your drink. 

“Have you always felt the need to be so…” He waves his hand slightly as if that’ll perfectly communicate whatever adjective he means. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Well I seem to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.” 

“You don’t leave anything in my mouth, you’re not even an afterthought on a good day.” You say, he smiles and takes a sip from his glass. 

“You’re breaking my heart here!” He says playfully, melodramatically and his smile grows into a wolfish grin. “Because there’s definitely an attraction here.” 

“Excuse me?” Your voice goes up in exasperation at the audacity of the man standing in front of you. Sure he might be right, of course you’re attracted to him… How could you not be? When that suit perfectly fits his physique and he’s trying to disarm you with his stupid words and cocky smiles. 

“Come on, it’s fucking uh, nuclear- it’s nuclear! All this energy and potentially more sustainable for- you catch my drift. I feel it, you feel it. And I’m the goddamn man and I can see that facade falling, crumbling away like ancient ruins for something better.” He says confidently and somewhat excitedly. 

“I don’t feel it.” You lie. 

He scoffs, chuckling and looks at you, he licks his lips for a moment and you almost let out a soft moan at the sight of that, barely able to suppress it and you want to scream at yourself. You’re crumbling. 

“Sure, sure, can’t bed the big bad wolf on the screaming populist side, wouldn’t look clean cut, would it?” He asks and you just look at him, you try to keep your face steely and not show a glimpse of anything else. “Sure fine, I’ll fucking play ball, baby.” 

“It’s corporate.” He says with a casual shrug as if that answers whatever conundrum he thinks you’re possibly in that you don’t want to enlighten him on. “So, come on, I’ll uh, strip down to my Waystar Royco ™ skivvies, show you a gilded skeleton in my closet and you can like uh, take me to the glue factory and show me a horse that’s been sold and how the horse gets melted, sausage gets made.” He tilts his head to look at you, a playful smile as he looks at your soft lips. 

“There’s legislation- regulations against that now. I know it might be a new word for you but you should have your assistant look it up for you.” You say with a sigh and look down at your glass, avoiding the glint of an awkward charm in his eyes. 

“I’m a good guy, I’m not 100% whatever the fuck you’ve painted me out to be, I don’t get a hard on out of systemic oppression.” He says casually as he looks at your face, analysing each blink, he must’ve stepped closer, you swear you can feel his breath against you as he speaks. 

“It benefits you at the least.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, it does. But I didn’t make the system.” He whispers back and you can’t help but bite the corner of your lip as the breath from his words tickles your cheek. “I made a very generous donation to gynaecological cancer last month.” He says playfully and you can’t help but scoff at that, he smiles widely at your scoff, pleased with your reaction. 

“I’m aware, it was reported on, by PGM as well.” You tease and he smiles. 

“I’m something of a philanthropist myself.” He chuckles proudly. “So?” 

“So?” You ask looking at him, taking in the way he holds his glass, the arch of his dark eyebrows and every line on his face. “That’s your stage direction to start uh swooning and like fawning and fainting into my arms.” 

“Do those lines work usually?” You ask with a tone of disbelief. 

“I’m Kendall Roy, I don’t need lines.” He immediately quips back with a cocky tone. 

“Doesn’t use lines, right… I didn’t realise Kendall Roy ever needed to beg.” You watch his finger trace the rim of the glass in his hand. There’s something about it, it entrances you and you feel your cheeks heat up like he’s just started a fire. 

“Trust me, you’d know if I was begging.” He says as that signature slight smile turns into a confident smirk. “And we’re not there, yet.” 

It feels dangerous and your muscles tense as you look at him, his dark eyes have a playful glint that sends a shiver up your spine. You feel your hand grip the glass much tighter, as if you’re moments away from cracking it. 

“Come on, I’m a hot shot- in fact, the hot shot, and you’re uh, Botticelli’s Venus here-” he tilts his head down and waves his hand slightly. “Dressed to the nines and all.” 

“Mm, going above and beyond, not just numbers and stock value, you know art too.” 

“Oh yeah, I can uh name it all, namedrop beyond DaVinci, I can rattle off about uh, Mondrian with his little lines,  you’ve probably got what? A Pollock in your apartment, to what? Feels a little spontaneous when you clock off? Classy and cute Hilma af Klint?” He asks with a raised eyebrow and sips his drink as his eyes bore into your soul. 

You tilt your head to look at him, watching him as he sips from that flute. There’s cockiness there and under other circumstances, you’d be disappointed in yourself for how quickly that melts away any hesitancies you have. He knows what he’s doing and you know what you’re going to do. You’re both nocturnal moths, feeling alive and awake this evening, craving something more. Needing something more. Two moths drawn to the exact flame. 

You’re in his penthouse, his stupid fancy penthouse that would make child you scream if you knew how much this place cost. You don’t care about that right now, right now you’re a pot on a stove simmering with years, years, worth of need for him and it’s about to overflow and spill. 

As soon as you’re inside he pounces on you, he’s eager and his body is agile and he moves like a feline. Quickly pawing you to get what he needs. What you both need. You don’t bother to try and repress any of your noises and neither does he. 

You put your hands up to his head to lightly scratch his scalp, he buries his head against your throat and groans out as you do and you feel his wet lips press hungrily against your throat. He sucks against your skin and you whine out as he keeps kissing, feeling your sensitive skin in his journey to not leave an inch of skin untouched. 

Kendall guides you to the sofa as he does this, he does it with surprising ease as he keeps listening to the beautiful music of his wet kisses against you and your sweet moans. Kendall gently but firmly pushes you down onto the sofa and you let out a gasp as he does. 

Once you're seated and sprawled out for him like a personal masterpiece, he pushes the hem of the skirt of your dress up to your hips, Kendall immediately drops to his knees in front of you, ready in position to worship you as you deserve. Kendall spreads your legs with a swift motion and groans as he positions himself, knelt down between your thighs. Ken breathes heavily and slowly, completely mesmerised and his heart beats louder than thunder in his ears. God, he needs this. God, he needs you. So fucking badly.

His hand touches your knee and runs up your thigh, his eyes are wide as he looks at your body reverently, lust sparks in his eyes. His thumb starts to brush against your inner thigh gently and you sharply inhale as you watch him. 

“I know what you think and I… I get it,” he breathes out heavily as he looks up at you with lust-blown but genuine big, wide eyes and you feel your own breath become more shaky as you look down at him. “It wasn’t all fucking sunshine and lollipops and feeding fucking ducks bread in the park, you know?” He says looking up at you. 

Fingers grip your thighs tighter at that bringing out a sharp gasp, fear over the implication of his confession even with how vague it is, the lack of explicit over the pressure, the verbal and emotional abuse he endured as a defenceless child while board members watched and said nothing. How all the adults he knew would either laugh awkwardly or go quiet, dismissive, when Roman was hit. How he watched it all, saw things even Shiv and Roman don’t remember. Things he can’t speak or begin to imagine saying. 

“He’s this boogeyman legend, the GOAT of media but a fucking mythical ghoul in all of our rooms.” He whispers, desperate for some external validation, you nod and caress his hair slowly, taking in his words patiently as he speaks. “It was this psychological prison, each mansion, penthouse, five star emotional abuse, make fucking Gordon Ramsay cry, one that everyone wanted to walk into and not comprehend the uh, consequences.” 

You just nod and listen, you’re not sure what to say, especially what to say to his words in this situation. But there’s a change in his eyes that he sees. He feels safe here, he feels safe and seen as he kneels and worships at the altar of his deity of beauty. 

His fingers apply more pressure as he touches your thighs, he needs you, he knows in his brain and his heart that you’re what will make him feel better right now. Every muscle, organ and bone knows it, especially the one growing and hardening in his pants right now. The feeling of his fingers tickle and you watch him lazily, his touch feels good and there’s something about him doing it, the way he looks at you, like your some masterpiece that should be front and centre of the Louvre. 

Kendall presses a kiss to your thigh, you let out a shaky breath you didn’t realise you were holding in as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as he quickly runs a trail of kisses up your thigh before getting to your core. 

He immediately presses his face against your core, your eyes widen as you feel him, you feel his mouth on you even with the fabric of your underwear creating a barrier between you two. It’s a new feeling as you feel him kiss and then lick your sweet pussy through your panties. They quickly become wet with his tongue frantically moving and your arousal leaking out. 

A soft whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling, the friction and how good his mouth feels even with that barrier. He keeps moving at that frantic pace, his left hand grips your thigh, keeping it pinned to the couch and massaging the soft flesh while his other slowly snakes up your body so he can squeeze your breast and pull out another delicious whimper. 

The sounds you’re making makes him harder and he groans against you, the vibration of that makes you throw your head back and whimper again. You need more. It’s so hot to have him in this way, to have him so desperate for you he’ll try to lap you up through your panties but you need to properly feel him. You try to buck your hips up to get him closer, you need him. 

He continues and groans at that, he shakes his head against you and swirls his sweet tongue around and you cry out. 

“I need- Ken, Ken! Please!” You cry out needily. “I can already taste how sweet you are through your soaked panties, baby.” He whispers as he pulls back slightly. 

“Take them off…” You whisper as you look into his lust-blown eyes, they’re just as needy if not more than yours. 

He immediately takes them off and you whine out as he does, his hands are quick and efficient. Before you can even blink Kendall has dived right back in, determined to taste you right from the source with nothing in his way. 

Ken’s wanted this for so long, he’s needed it for so long. 

Kendall doesn’t worry about trying to warm you up, it’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. His mouth runs along your folds, and before you know it he’s pressed his face to you even more and he starts to lap you up. His eyes roll back and he closes them, whining against you as he laps up your fluids and uses his tongue to send you to heaven. 

His vibrations make you bite your lip and you buck your hips up again, one arm stretched out to the armrest of the sofa and you claw it mercilessly, just as he laps you up. Kendall then tilts his head slightly and groans, he lightly presses his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you cry out, the loudest you ever have. 

Your eyes widen and you look down at him as you moan loudly and he continues. He keeps licking you up and moving his nose against you. While you’re clawing the armrest, your back arches and you try to press yourself more into his touch needing more, it’s insanely and perfectly wanton. Moving your freehand into his short dark hair, you tug on it. You barely need to tug it to guide him as he moves perfectly and is giving you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt before. 

Kendall continues, drowning in your juices and making sure not a single drop is wasted. He’s tasted it now and it’s amazing, life changing, how could he sit before you and waste a drop? He savours your scent and taste as tongue licks you and his nose keeps moving and applying the perfect amount of pressure to your now throbbing clitoris. 

His movements are desperate and that of a starved man. You can see it, feel it and it’s what he is. He’s a starved man and you’re his perfect banquet. He continues, needing to make you orgasm. He’s drowning in you, his mouth and nose but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He takes a deep breath and his hand moves along your thigh, squeezing it and he grips your hip tightly. 

You’re getting closer and closer just from that clitoral stimulation and he can tell, he moves his face up so he can look at you. See how pleasure is painted across your face, he moves so his tongue laps up at your clitoris, swirling around it and making you shake and moan. Fuck, you look so pretty he thinks and you can’t help but think how good he looks like this, down on his knees in front of you, with his tongue buried between your legs. 

Kendall continues and you moan more. You’re not sure how long it’s been, he hasn’t been between your legs long enough, you know that for sure. You need him there longer but you know you’re just a flick of his tongue away from being pushed over the cliff and orgasming then and there. You tug on his hair and groan. 

“Goddamnit, I’m so close…” You whine out and bite your lip as your cheeks heat up more and he smiles against you, caressing your thigh and he continues licking. After the shortest five seconds in the world you pant and your back arches as you release. 

The taste is sweet and perfect, just as Kendall knew it would be. He groans against you, it turns him on so much. He continues to lap it up, just slower now, so he doesn’t overwhelm you too much and so he can savour each drop of your release. 

You moan as he continues, he keeps his face buried between your legs for a moment, caressing your thighs and when he can tell your breathing has recovered a little. He dives right back in. 

Making you come? That was something he needed to do. Only doing it once? That was pathetic. Kendall needed to hear those moans from you, to taste you, at least a few more times tonight. And that’s what he was going to do. 

Before you can utter a word, Kendall has already started to lap you up again desperately. He had something to prove after all, he always had something to prove. And if he could pull the sweetest noises out of you, the prettiest thing he's seen, who had despised him since college, what couldn't he do? What more approval could he be denied when you gripped his hair and bucked your hips up desperately searching for more pressure from his tongue. He had made himself right at home in this position, how couldn’t he?

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: major!drew starkey x nurse!reader

summary: it’s 1944, and the world is engulfed in the turmoil of wwii. on a remote air force base, major drew starkey prepares for a perilous mission, while you, a shy and introverted young nurse, watches from afar, your heart caught between admiration and fear. you has never been one to express your feelings openly, but as drew faces an uncertain future in the skies, you gathers the courage to write your first letter to a man—a heartfelt confession of love. before he departs, you quietly hands him the letter, never knowing how it will change you both.

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains emotional themes set during ww2, themes of war and separation, mild language and teasing from fellow soldiers.

au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy

part ii - part iii - …

You, as a nurse stationed at the airbase, you were accustomed to keeping your head down, doing your work with precision and care, never drawing attention to yourself. You’d been stationed here for months, yet it still felt like you didn’t belong in the whirl of action around you.

But there was one person whose presence never failed to draw your gaze, no matter how much you tried to remain invisible.

Major Drew Starkey.

To everyone else, he was a leader—a seasoned officer whose calm authority and unwavering composure made him stand out among the others. He was the kind of man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet always found a way to offer a smile to those who needed it. His tall frame, sharp features, and focused blue eyes made him a figure of admiration and respect, and you were no exception.

But to you, he was more than just a Major in the Air Force.

He was Major Drew—the man whose voice sent a flutter through your chest whenever he spoke, even if it was just to ask about a patient’s condition. The man whose steady hands and quiet courage filled you with a sense of safety in a world torn apart by war. For months, you had admired him from a distance, your heart skipping a beat every time he passed by. You would catch glimpses of him during routine check-ups or briefings, his brow furrowed in concentration, his posture always strong and sure. You never allowed yourself to imagine more than a fleeting glance or polite exchange; he was an officer, after all, and you were just a nurse.

But as time went by, as each mission became more perilous and the losses more profound, something began to shift within you. The thought of him flying off into the unknown without knowing how much he meant to you gnawed at your heart. Every time he left on a mission, the knot in your stomach tightened, fearing he might not return.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low the base was sinking in soft amber light, you made a decision. It was impulsive and terrifying, but the fear of regret outweighed your shyness. You had to let him know, even if only once, even if he never read the words.

You decided to write him a letter.

Sitting in your small quarters, surrounded by the muffled sounds of soldiers laughing and planes preparing for takeoff, you hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. How do you write to a man like Major Drew? What words could possibly capture the depth of what you felt, the quiet admiration that had grown into something so much more?

But you had to try. You had to be brave, even if just for one fleeting moment.

Dear Major Drew Starkey, I do not know where to begin, nor how to put into words what my heart has long wanted to say. Perhaps it is foolish of me to write to you like this, but the uncertainty of tomorrow compels me to be braver than I’ve ever been before. I know you are a man of duty, a man of courage, and that your mind is always focused on the task at hand. But I wonder if, in the quiet hours when you are alone, your thoughts drift as mine do—to those you hold dear, to the things that make this war worth fighting. I think of you often, more than I should. More than I’ve ever thought of anyone. It’s strange to admit it, even to myself, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around us is consumed by chaos, it is your face I see. Your voice I hear. It is your strength that makes me feel safe, even when everything else is falling apart. I have never written a letter like this before, and I confess I am terrified of how you will receive it. But I cannot go another day without letting you know how deeply I care for you, how much I admire the man you are—not just the officer, but the man who carries so much on his shoulders without complaint. I will not ask anything of you. I do not expect you to respond. All I ask is that you take these words with you, wherever you go, and know that someone here thinks of you every day. That someone prays for your safe return, not because it is your duty to return, but because you are cared for—because I care for you. If fate allows, I hope that one day we may speak of these things in person. But until then, please know that my thoughts are with you always. Yours, in heart and in hope, Y/N”

You read and reread the letter until the words blurred before your eyes, but the feeling behind them remained steady. With trembling hands, you folded the letter neatly and slipped it into a plain envelope. You stared at it for what felt like hours, your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst. Could you really give this to him? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he laughed at you, or worse—what if he never even opened it?

But there was no turning back now. You had written the letter, and you had to deliver it.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. The next morning, just before dawn, the base was a flurry of activity. Major Drew was preparing for another mission—this one longer and more dangerous than the others. The soldiers were gearing up, checking their equipment, and sharing quiet conversations before the inevitable parting. You watched from the infirmary window, your heart heavy with the weight of the letter tucked inside your apron pocket.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move. As you made your way toward the runway, the early morning light casting long shadows over the ground, you spotted him. He stood by his plane, speaking to a group of officers, his back to you.

You almost turned around.

But then, as if sensing your presence, Major Drew glanced over his shoulder and saw you. His expression softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart stutter. Without thinking, you hurried toward him, clutching the letter so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Major Starkey,” you called out, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. His gaze shifted to you fully, and he stepped away from the group, his tall figure moving toward you with a calm, confident stride.

“Y/N,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you out here? Everything alright?”

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fumbled for the words. “I—I just wanted to give you this,” you stammered, thrusting the envelope toward him before you could lose your nerve.

He glanced down at the envelope, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though there was no pressure in his voice, no demand—only a gentle interest.

“It’s just…” Your voice faltered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s something I wanted you to have before you leave.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around you. The sounds of the base faded, the distant voices of soldiers and the rumble of engines becoming nothing more than background noise. It was just the two of you, standing there in the early morning light, the air thick with unspoken words.

Major Drew took the envelope from your trembling hands, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through your body. He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the meaning behind your sudden act of courage.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he promised, his voice low and steady, filled with an understanding that made your heart ache. He smiled at you, that rare, gentle smile that always made the world feel just a little bit brighter. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. And then, before you could embarrass yourself further, you turned and hurried away, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

Hours later, the base had fallen into an uneasy quiet. The planes were gone, the soldiers off on their mission, and you were left in the stillness of the infirmary, going through the motions of your duties while your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

Would he read the letter? Would he think you were foolish for writing it? Would he even come back?

Night fell, and with it came the familiar sounds of planes returning to base. You didn’t rush to the runway this time, too afraid of what you might or might not see. Instead, you stayed in the infirmary, tending to your work, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the soldiers’ quarters, Major Drew sat among his fellow officers, exhausted but relieved to have returned safely. The men around him joked and teased, trying to shake off the tension of the mission with laughter and camaraderie. But Drew’s mind wasn’t with them.

He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the soft edges of the envelope you had given him. His comrades noticed the movement and, ever the opportunists, one of them nudged him with a sly grin.

“Hey, Starkey,” one of the soldiers teased. “What’s that you’ve got there? A love letter from a secret admirer?”

The others joined in, their voices filled with playful banter.

“Don’t keep it to yourself, Major! Let’s hear what your girl’s got to say!”

Drew rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not for you lot,” he muttered, standing up and stepping away from the group. He could still hear their laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as he found a quiet corner and opened the letter.

As he unfolded the paper, the world seemed to slow, your delicate handwriting coming into view. He read your words carefully, the weight of your confession settling over him like a warm blanket. The teasing from his comrades faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet vulnerability of your letter.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter clutched in his hands, a strange mix of emotions washing over him. He hadn’t expected this—not from you, not from someone so quiet and reserved. But as he read and reread your words, something stirred in him, something deep and unspoken that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

When he finally folded the letter and tucked it safely back into his jacket, his heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted just slightly. The war still raged on, the uncertainty of tomorrow still loomed, but in that moment, your words gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed.

Hope.

He smiled to himself, standing up and returning to his comrades, their teasing starting up again the moment he rejoined them. “So, Starkey,” one of them called out, grinning from ear to ear. “Your mystery girl leave you love-struck?”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice low, as if sharing a secret only he knew. Because that’s what it was—your letter was a secret, a treasure he would carry with him wherever the war took him next.

No matter what Drew knew one thing for certain: he would come back.

For you.

For the promise of something more.

[dumbkatsu]

Hi! Could you please do hualian (together or separate) with a mortal s/o who has reincarnated? Thank you!!! (I don't normally do request like this so I'm kinda nervous)

Hey anon! I'm so sorry I'm only responding to you now. Thank you so much for waiting! I really like this prompt so I'll try my best. Hope you like it!

(I'll do a mix of both here. from personal pov to hc of them together)

I was listening to this playlist video on yt while writing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Xie Lian saw you he couldn't believe it. He thought it was just some spirit messing with him. But no it was you. It was you.

Time stood still while flashbacks of memories and feelings you shared styarted flooding back in. From the joyous times where everything seemed right to the unbearable grief, rage and sorrow from your loss. By the time he'd recovered you had already disappeared into the crowd.

He wandered around for a while until he heard the voice of his beloved in the comunication array. "Dianxia where are you? Did you forget about our date in Yu Jun mountain for our 50th anniversary. I'm counting on your wonderfull cooking." "Ah yes San Lang I'm on my way!"

Xie Lian arrived and Hua Cheng was quick to greet him with a peck on the lips. A cheeky gesture that held an insurmountable of love. "Gege everything's ready and this tine I'll make sure we won't have any interruptions" "Hmm" Xie Lian was looking at the horizon deep in thought. "Gege are you alright? You seem distant. What happened today?"

"I saw them" xie lian blurted

"Who?" San Lang inquired

"Y/N san lang."

"..."

" I-I couldn't believe it myself either but- "

"No."

"What?"

"No, that's impossible they're dead" Hua chengs face was deadpanned. Showing no emotion "San Lang it's true I saw them today at the market"

"No gege they're dead I saw them die"

It was brutal and ice-cold. Xie Lian knew this was a touchy subject but he pressed on. "I think they've finally reincarnated" "..." "It's been so long since I've seen their face...seen those eyes-" "Dianxia I'm very sorry but it seems there is trouble in ghost city and it requires my presence. I'm terribly sorry but I must go. I'll meet you in puqi shrine." with that hua cheng disappeared. Xie Lian knew Hua cheng didn't need to go to ghost city, yin yu could basically manage ghost city without hua cheng for a year in the least. He'd seen it. Alas xie lian sighed and he knew hua cheng just needed space.

Hua Cheng didn't even try to find you. With his network already so spread out (yin yu) it was too easy to find out where you were.

You were there. Rigth there.

You were working in a lantern shop. Helping the owner preparing for the grand festival that celebrated the two deities of the village. Hua Cheng could only watch. Fighting the urge to come to you and hold you. To make sure you were real. It took too much of him when he lost you right in his arms. He wanted to protect you. So much so that you'd never leave like that ever again.

But he couldn't. He didn't move and just stared at you until the shop closed.

The walk back to puqi shrine felt longer than usual. With all his turmoil at least he knew with certainty that he could always find comfort in his beloved's arms. Xie Lian swallowed him in a hug as soon as Hua cheng laid down. "So how were they?" "Still has that same selflessness... they were helping the old Tao with the lanterns for tomorrow " "Do you want to meet them?" "I don't know" "I don't know either. To be honest I'm scared." hua cheng turned cupping xie lian's face "It will be alright. We've been through worse."

The day of the festival was hectic. You were filling in for old Tao's nephew that broke his leg two days before the festival and the customers were flooding the humble stall, the craftsmanship and ability of old Tao that translated to his lanterns was indeed mesmerizing. After things slowed down old Tao gave you time off to enjoy the rest of the festival. You went straight to the food stalls and grabbed some "chastity meatballs" you always found the name a bit odd but the tale was that the Scrap‌ ‌Immortal saved a family by offering the ghosts those meatballs and went to a quiet table to enjoy your treat.

After the meal, you got up but tripped on your robes and bumped into a man and spilled some liquor on them. They made quite a fuss and were very angry. As they prepared to strike you, you closed your eyes and prepared for impact. But it never came.

A strong hand pale as chalk was holding tightly onto the wrist of the man. A youth that had such a delicate physique was looking at the man like he was about to kill him.

"Is there a problem here?" Hua cheng inquired.

The look from his threatening gaze was enough to send the man running. As he was out of sight Hua cheng swiftly turned away and started walking. Until he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve "Hey gongzi wait up! I never got the chance to thank you. Can I offer you a meal to repay your act of bravery and kindness?"

The young man turned to you with a face of disgust. But his eyes were of melancholy and hurt.

"Hong'er?"

Hua Cheng breathed in sharply and held his breath. His pupils slightly shrunk. "Ah, I'm sorry I don't know why I called you by that name, forgive me. You do look quite familiar..."

The resurgence of memories foreign to you started flooding back into your mind at a rapid speed. The fog started clouding your mind and you started to lose your balance. But before you could fall you were enveloped by soft white fabric.

"San Lang let´s get them somewhere safe"

That was the last thing you heard before falling into slumber.

Alright! Time for some hc!

Ok so while you were sleeping you regained your memories of them. You saw everything happen before your eyes. How you met Xie Lian and Hong'er when the kingdom of Xianle was vast and prosperous. The memories you made with them. How you died in honger's arms in the war. Everything.

You woke up in a staw mat. The two faces you thought you'd never see again now are looking at you with worry.

Your eyes started to swell up with tears and pulled them both into your embrace while softly crying.

Xie lian closed his eyes and embraced you with so much strength to compensate for all the years filled with regrets and let out a deep sigh.

Hua cheng on the other hand hugged you reluctantly and buried his face on your shoulder, biting his trembling lip to keep himself under control.

He was the first to break the embrace and booked it into the woods. With you following behind for a while.

He stopped at a lake and turned to you.

"I'm sorry"

"For what?"

"For leaving you"

You got closer to hua cheng and just held him there.

"It's ok. I'm here now"

You both stayed there for a while. Sitting in front of the lake embracing each other. Hua cheng with his head on your chest and you carding your fingers through his hair. Xie Lian Joined you shortly.

Now! Obviously they put you up to speed on all the events that happened. And you were incredulous at the adventures and plots they uncovered. But you were glad everything turned out in the end.

Surprisingly, an activity you guys like to do together is fishing

Even though you and hua cheng had to "fish" xie lian out of the sea most of the times.

You help xie lian in collecting trash so you can sell it.

Dude. When I tell you sleeping with them is THE BEST THING

Take that info as you wish 😏

They would introduce you to their friends. Even yushi huang!

Becoming buddies with shi qingxuan was bound to happen.

Thankfully mnq although at the beginning skeptical, accepted you more then hua cheng for xie lian.

Travelling with them to other lands is so enjoyable.

Hua cheng likes to spook you with sneaky kisses on your neck

Giving gifts to each other bcs something reminded you of them is very frequent.

One day after xie lian came from working in the rice fields you were preparing dinner and he sneaked up behind you, covering your eyes "Now who from my two lovely husbands might this be?" you said playfully.

Xie lian's heart skipped a beat.

"It's me dear" he said pecking your cheek lovingly.

He then took your hand stroking it lovingly and and sliding a grass ring in your finger.

"I did that with a couple of grass I found. I know it's nothing compared to san lang's elaborate rings but-" he was interrupted with your kiss.

"I love it A-lian"

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

13 (hanjisung)

One foot in front of the other, shouldn't be too bad. One and two and three and for. And five. And six. You somehow manage to climb up the stairs, the steaming hot bowl of kimchi jjigae still perfectly intact in your hands, you almost want to pat yourself on the back for succeeding in not spilling a single drop.

You tap the base of the door with your foot, carefully balancing your weight on your knees so that you don't tumble to the ground, and luckily enough Han opens the door for you, a tired but still bright smile on his face: "baby", he sighs softly, letting you in so you can quickly place the bowl down on the table, away from the scattered, crumpled paper sheets and portable keyboard.

Han had recently turned the spare room upstairs into his little at home studio. It reflected his personality so well, his sunset to sunrise lamp glowing in the corner, a few guitars hanging on the wall, a small, black leathery couch at the back, conveniently displaying an arrangement of fuzzy blankets. Cozy vibes and the persistent smell of his cologne and half empty coffee cups.

It was his refuge, his sanctuary. You barely stepped foot in it, only occasionally gathering up the discarded take out containers and forgotten plaid flannels and hoodies left amassed on the spinning chair, you were so careful even while vacuuming the place, for you didn't want to taint his favourite room in the house, didn't want to disturb the place where magic was created on the daily.

"I know you said you weren't too hungry but you've been holed up in here the whole night, please have at least a few spoonfuls", you encourage meekly, pointing at the soup you had just placed on the desk, Han nods and and sniffs the fragrant, hearty smell of his dinner, scooting his chair closer to the edge of the seat so he can reach the bowl more comfortably,"I will, thank you for taking care of me when i forget to", he jokes. Kind of.

He only ever half joked when it came down to his mental health. The smile on his lips not quite reaching his dark circled eyes, a pencil still in his hand, the suffused pale blue light of his computer screen casting its glow on the wall: you had interrupted him while he was clearly writing a new song, and you felt bad. For writing and composing music was the one thing that kept him sane, helped him process his emotions and turmoil.

He was insanely talented and imaginative as is but whenever he went through a rougher patch, his songwriting skills just went up several different notches. The pain in his heart and the fuzziness in his head tragically pulled out the best musical talent in him. Sometimes he'd let himself be consumed by sleepless nights spent with his headphones on and endless cups of coffee and more half finished lyrics than he could count.

Nodding sympathetically, you place a small kiss on top of his head and hug his frame briefly, your hands slipping beneath the collar of his white and blue checkered shirt than swallowed him whole, then down onto his front, briefly circling his torso, his small waist that drove you insane.

You gently pat his tummy and his stomach, chambers of his silent distress, the anxiety you knew was slowly but surely eating him up from the inside. "I love you, I'll leave you to your masterpiece", you whisper, reluctantly letting go of him.

The house falls quiet if not for the faintest strumming of a guitar, a few chords being played on the recorder, a gentle lullaby floating in the air as you go about the rest of your late evening meal prepping for the next few days and then cleaning up.

When the clock strikes just 10 minutes past eleven you plop two herbal tea bags into their designated ceramic cups and lean on the counter, propping yourself up on your elbow while you wait for the tea to brew. A yawn escaping your lips as late night approaches.

You quietly head upstairs, both cups in your hands while you mentally curse yourself for the handles are not scalding against your palms but still hot enough to feel the slight burn on your skin. This time the door to Han's studio is ajar, so it's a little easier to slip through: curled up on his chair, eyes closed and a serene smile on his relaxed lips, big headphones snug on his ears, he looks divine. Effortlessly beautiful.

It's heartwarming, really, to see him so fully immersed into his own music, the love of his life. It must be so cathartic for him, you think to yourself, deeply grateful for you get to witness just how art and artist save each other day by day. An impelling urge to kiss his face and his beautiful mind begins to prickle your skin and you're just one breath away from him when the song in his headphones stops and Han blinks his eyes open, looking a little startled as he finds you right there,peering into his face, likely with the most mad heart eyes ever.

"SORRY! didn't mean to scare you! You just looked so ...at peace", you mumble, setting down the mugs as he removes his headphones and chuckles, "that's okay, thank you for the tea", he replies quietly, smiling at you and then puckering up his rose coloured lips, requesting a kiss with no use of his words. And you comply eagerly.

"Is the next skz album coming along well?", you inquire, mollified the second your boyfriend's attention is fully diverted from his computer screen to your body, hands resting on your waist, the soft, warm pressure so comforting one second and then so delightfully flustering the next, especially when they briefly climb up your back, a single finger running down your spine, guiding you onto his lap, "mmh I think these songs are for me only, wanna have a listen?", he offers, holding out his headphones for you.

With your back resting against his chest and his arms securely wrapped around your waist, you close your eyes and let the notes fill you your ears, his melodic voice travelling up your eardrums, your brain, your heart. His tone emotional, deep, intense, sometimes desperate, shaking you from the inside out. Not that you didn't expect that, you knew very well just how much of a musical genius he was, but each and everytime his solo songs just hit you, they hit differently, for he really poured his heart and soul into them, tugged at all the right heart strings.

Transported into this other world, where the sound of his voice and the guitars and drums are the only things in existence inside your head, you barely notice Han peering closely at you, a grin on his face, one of his hands tantalizing on the hem of your shirt.

You only physically shake yourself awake when you feel his lips on your neck, soft but lingering kisses down the side, his hand now well beneath your shirt, gripping one cup of your bra confidently yet not aggressively, just enough to elicit the final electrifying tremor that has you removing his headphones in a haste and land back on earth, eyes wide, a stupid grin on your own face: "oh you've come back to me, finally. I thought my songs made you fall asleep", he teases, and you're so glad, so glad to see his playful side again, the snakes of anxiety clearly having relented their choking grip on him.

"I was just thoroughly enjoying the experience, listening to your music first is always such a blessing, I'm honored. With every new masterpiece your make I'm just... in awe. You truly have a gift, Hannie", you confess earnestly, loving the way he still blushes lightly and looks down, too shy to accept the compliments.

Han sighs contently and presses his lips to your cheek, "you're spoiling me, today and always", he mumbles, squeezing your sides briefly, "you're going to have my brain go rotten, I love it. I love you", he adds, smiling that heart shaped smile of his, "finish up your tea, I'll be done here in hopefully just half an hour and then we can go to bed okay?", he suggests, clearly noticing the veil of sleepiness behind your eyes.

He knew he was a night owl and you were not, noticed all the details, all the little tell signs you were getting tired after a long day, he always read you like a book, which was both endearing and fascinating, flattering, even, for how much interest he took in you, knew exactly what he needed to know about you like a manual.

"Is it okay if I stay here and wait for you? I'd like to listen to those two songs some more", you ask tentatively, gesturing for the headphones, "but like... It's okay if not. I can definitely just wait in our bedroom, I don't want to impose", you add in a fret, the last thing you want is to intrude in his space even more today. Though you really want to listen to his music more. Like really, really.

Han personally takes the headphones and clicks on the little loop icon on his phone screen before handing them both to you, the white, blank cover art for the mp3 track he had downloaded glowing in between you two, "impose? This home is mine just how much as it is yours, you can absolutely stay here, have a little nap too if you'd like, though I'll try to be quick and wrap up here", he reassures, "I appreciate that but... but this is your safe space, your sacred room", you reply, stroking his cheek, "yeah well I want you here, so go lay down and enjoy your private music session", he asserts playfully, a gentle resolve to his voice as he pouts.

During days when we were young and naïve, what we loved Were your pure, clear eyes that gazed into you and me, Ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah Ah-ah-ah The night I walked you home, my warm spring days The day when thick mist filled the air

The high falsetto, the heart wrenching intensity of his vocals, the guitars reverberating in the background, you're floating. Head above water, just filled with the honey of his voice as your body glides on the surface of the water. Arms and legs straight, stretched out. You're so light and weightless you could forever roam the waters, motionless.

At least until something hefty and warm falls delicately on top of you, depositing on your chest and your torso and your legs like a light knitted blanket. Balmy leaves, a hint of mint, perhaps some musk, something stronger and amber like, leathery almost, wafting through your nostrils. Something soft tickles your jawline and your chin, your neck. One of your ears unclogs and something falls down your shoulder: "my sweet, perfect peach, hello, welcome back from the land of dreams".

Han chuckles from above you, a smrik on his face as watches you blink confusedly, the remnants of the same melody you had probably overplayed still playing distantly in the background. So maybe you weren't just floating on water but actually just laying down on the couch in your boyfriend's studio, the very same boyfriend currently settled right on top of you, curious brown eyes looking intently at you.

You giggle, embarrassed, and try to hide your face behind your hands as you cover your eyes and cheeks, "gosh... how long was I asleep for?", Han giggles himself and moves your hands away from your face, he leans down to kiss your lips, sweetly but with a subtle fever to it.

"A while... looks like my songs are soporific after all", he jokes, though it's short lived, the cheerfulness in his voice, he seems rather rapt right now, he keeps looking down at your lips over and over, "not at all. I'm just a teensy bit tired and the atmosphere here is really cozy and relaxed", you object gently, "that's understandable, you were up on your feet all day, making me dinner, checking in on me...",he trails off, his thumb brushing the blush on your cheek, "I didn't even make you dessert! Crap! Do you want anything right now? I can wip up some pancakes real quick!".

Strong whiplash hits the back of your neck as you try to sit up straight and get Han to move off of you in just one motion and, predictably so, you whimper in pain. Much to your boyfriend amusement who helps you sit up but also laughs his ass off at your impulsiveness. Hearing him laugh like that though, so gleefully so freely, that's just worth the pins and needles in your muscles.

"You don't need to make me anything", he says in a low voice, much somber now as he crawls over and kisses you once again, his soft lips crashing so perfectly against yours, "I've got dessert right here", he whispers, his hands now resting on top of your thighs as he slowly crouches down, balancing on the heels of his feet.

A little tumble. That was your heart.

Han squints a little, big expressive eyes turning into two slits, that sort of lazy, alluring look to them as he spreads your legs apart, enough for his head to fit right in between. The crackling of fire igniting in your belly, you watch as his fingers inch closer and closer to the waistband of your pants, pointer fingers hooking around the fabric, giving it a gentle tug, "may I?".

All you can do is nod, melting little by little as he locks eyes with you and removes your pants, the sight before him enough to make his Adam's apple bob up and down. He stars slowly, lazily even, only placing the softest kisses to the inner side of your thighs, making his way up to the seams of your underwear, leaving behind a trace of goosebumps on your skin.

Oh it's so hot. Suddenly you feel so hot. Shivering but hot. Slender fingers trace patterns over the cotton in between your thighs, circle motions, light tapping, you flutter your eyes shut as soon as Han kisses the very same spot his fingers just padded over. And then warmth, a wet warmth right over you in a stripe.

Nimble fingertips just brushing your navel, your hip bones, your thighs again, until your underwear are just a roll of fabric discarded on the floor. You have barely anytime to feel the air hitting your exposed flesh for Han just dips his mouth on you. A throaty sound rumbling from his lips, he buries his face in between your legs.

And he's good, like REALLY good. He knows he is. The man just knows how to use his mouth and his tongue,no matter where he's using them. You hiss underneath your breath, your hands instinctively running through his hair, how much you love how longer and curlier it is, tickling your bare skin, giving you the perfect excuse to tug at it.

A kiss, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucks and sucks, and your legs shake so much already he has to hold your thighs down, "oh baby, my soft baby, so shaky for me already?", he teases, a gentle but firm grip on your body as he tries to keep you still. His eyes fixate on your face, observing intently for any reaction depicted on your expression, his gaze so intense you feel it even with your eyes closed.

His tongue swivels around your most inner part, sloppily but with some heft to it, small licks as he taps on your mound, only increasing the blood flow there, you can almost feel yourself pulsating, even more so when you open your eyes, squinting a little, and meet his dark orbs still fixated on you, you can only see his eyes and the bridge of his nose, for the lower half of his face is just buried in you and god, it's so hot, just the sight of him like hat while he works on you, it's so hot.

Seconds turn into minutes and before you know it, in your heightened state of bliss, you feel your blood rushing faster down to your lower belly and your legs, your face contorting, sweating, as you feel progressively more hot and bothered and on the verge of imploding. Hands clamping down his hair, your start to breathe erratically, the pressure on your chest sinking down and down until your heart feels like it's going to collapse.

It's the tense, pre climax silence and the slight spams in your legs that do it for him, that and knowing you like the back of his hand, that and his welcomed obsession with staring at you, studying every single little detail that gives you away. Han keeps his pace, knowing that you're just seconds away from coming,he notices your abdomen contracting and relaxing alternatively, feels your ragged breath coming out in puffs in his hair.

One look. One last lingering look to see you biting down your bottom lip,hard, you exhale loudly and start to shake, rocking your hips until you're all up in his face. A fraction of a second later and he has you come all undone in his mouth. The shiver the tremble the wave of warmth and tingles from your belly to your core.

He wastes no chance, continuing to roll his tongue on your clit, kissing and slurping everything he can, helping you ride your high until you can't no more. Arousal glistening on his lips and his cheeks and his chin, he finally detaches his mouth from you, the little silver of his tongue on the corner of his lips as he laps up any residue before wiping his face with the back of his forearm.

Drunk-dazed, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, a small smile on your reddened lips, from how much you've been biting down on them, it just perfectly matches the blush on your cheeks, the splotches of heat on your chest and your tummy, like roses blooms all over.

"Oh, you're blushing, how cute", Han chuckles, cupping your cheek tenderly, gesture which you can only smile abashedly more at, "have i rendered you completely speechless? talk to me, say anything", he teases playfully, for he knows it always takes you a little while to compose yourself when he eats you out like that, even if he acts as if it's nothing.

"You're good, Jisung. You're good at anything and everything you do, an ace, a true ace", you mumble, avoiding his gaze, and he giggles adorably, leaning in to kiss your tummy, "am I a better lover or a better songwriter?", "OH THAT'S SO UNFAIR YOU KNOW I CAN'T POSSIBLY PICK", you exclaim, suddenly much more spirited and alert.

Han bursts into deep throaty laughs and doubles down on you, his forehead resting on your abdomen, his arms cradling your lower body, "alright alright, let's go to bed", he suggests, helping you put your underwear back on, "or I could go for seconds, while you listen to my songs again and decide which one you like better", he adds as if in an afterthought, smirking a little.

[fraugwinska]

Part 2 of the Alchemist series - No smut today,but I had this idea in my head and couldn't continue NOT writing it. And don't worry - those two will have time enough in Part 3 for some biological studies! :> TW: Emotional turmoils, Graphic depictions of torture and violence Read at your own discretion. As always minors - please exit to the right, DNI, this is an 18+ space

Your assistant flinched when you threw another rack of test tubes against the walls, the black, polished tiles to your feet covered in shards of glass and bubbling, oil-like liquids.

"M-Ma'am, please, ", she pleaded, kneading the pink, naked tail that peeked out of her lab coat nervously in her hands while she backed away as your grabbed the big Erlenmeyer flask still sitting over the bunsen burner, fizzing as if in mockery. "i-it's better than number 52. Isn't that progress...?"

Failed. Again, you had failed.

"Idiots call it progress...", You held the flask up, cold flames of renewed anger licking down your spine. "I call it A FUCKING DISGRACE!"

The rat demon squeaked when the glass crashed on the floor as you howled in frustration, the black gas that evaporated with a hiss and the dark purple flames the substance evoked enough to make her run out the door and out of the laboratory with a sob, the sound of her heels clicking in the hallway a grim farewell and final goodbye to a fairly good assistant.

You slumped back against a work bench and put your hands in the pockets of your coat, struggling with your breathing to calm down. The painful hunger in you scratched at your insides, this insatiable need that appeared ever since...

Ever since you returned to your laboratory that day, ever since your last encounter with the Radio Demon. The image of Alastor and his shadow flashing up in front of you. How you were deceived and subdued by him, outsmarted by him and most humiliating, how you had liked it. It should've left nothing but disdain and anger inside you, instead it left an aching want, a restless desire for filling the gaping hole of knowledge you had been faced with as well as your paradox craving for another fight ending inevitably into your submission. Defiant to do something about the latter, you had begun to at least try to satisfy the first.

You were usually okay with failure as part of the scientific progress. A failed experiment only meant an additional tool in your hand on your surefire way to success. But never did success seem so impossible to you. Every new try of recreating the shadows that had so efficiently overpowered you felt like a rerun of your previous one. You had exhausted your knowledge, rewritten the same hypotheses over and over and burned through five assistants since. These angry outbursts were so unlike you - but as the number of failed experiments rose so did your temper, and the higher your anger, the harder it became to concentrate.

Alastor haunted your mind, infiltrated your rationale with images of a teasing smile, flesh threatening to burst beneath black and sharp claws, burning red eyes staring at you from the wet heat of your core. You hadn't eaten in two weeks, hadn't slept in nearly as long, had spent all your waking hours locked away in here in a futile attempt of fleeing these emotions that were so obstructive to your work. You were obsessively reading your books, furiously rereading your notes, desperately starting test after test, trial after trial to try and satiate this thirst only to be left even more parched. You knew it wouldn't be long before you inevitably would have to drink, even if you knew it waould be poison.

"I can't go on like this..." you sighed into the deafening silence of your laboratory.

There was a certain pep in the Radio Demon's step as he walked through the streets of the Pentagram, humming to himself as sinners parted and hid away wherever he went. Alastor reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat, unfolding the little note that had sent him in high spirits and rereading it with impish glee.

'To: The Radio DemonRegarding: Our most recent encounter

Alastor, I hope this note will find you well. I'd like to discuss the possibility of a mutually beneficial arrangement regarding our personal and professional feud. If you agree to a meeting, a table at RAUM in the Entertainment District will be reserved tomorrow at 9 p.m. PST (Pride Standard Time)

Best Regards,The Alchemist'

He laughed to himself at the forced choice of words, the tenseness evident in every neatly drawn letter and the obvious refusal of showing even one hint of familiarity. He had known he'd just have to give the proverbial ball a little nudge - his little note so easily snuck into her lab coat by his shadow companion - and let it roll, patiently waiting long enough to see it finally crush the prideful, stubborn resistance of the little sinner known as The Alchemist in the end. Although, he had to admit it took longer than he had expected.

His spies had been useful in keeping track of her ego crumbling - the chimp, roach and gerbil sinners that she hired as assistants all painted him the same picture - that the poor woman descended more and more into restless obsession by trying day and night to solve the mystery of his shadowy companion. The last one of her henchmen, a meek little rat girl, added a curious detail to the usual report that had Alastor's self-confidence booming: That, on the rare occasion that she fell asleep on her workbench, the Alchemist seemed to writhe and whimper - calling out a name.

His name.

He could hear it, her voice, the usual dismissive contempt replaced with poorly repressed desire and urgency, breathing his name while rendered helpless and at the mercy of his hands and tongue. What a rush it had been, to see his rival and latest person of interest fall apart under his doing, breaking her stoic and methodical facade to reveal the raw and weak creature she was deep down. What a divine image, seeing the haughty, refractory Alchemist beneath him, squirming and gasping and panting beneath his touch that she begged for, seeing and feeling her whole body turn against her, reduced to a groaning heap. How delicious it had tasted, not just her, but the satisfaction in knowing he'd forever carry the taste of her and his victory.

But when the moment approached to end her, to finally wipe her off the face of hell, it spoiled in his mouth, turning from sweet into bitter. He had planned it to be his grand finale: To kill her after showing her blatant inadequacy compared to him, bound by his shadow and thoroughly humiliated - But he found himself unable to.

Rosie was the only one he told about that day, and her reply to his retelling had him brooding ever since.

"You know, Alastor - The only difference between hate and love is that hatred doesn't fear the death of the one at our mercy."

He had almost cursed at his oldest friend. The ridiculous idea alone was unsettling. Alastor never had interest in the concept of loving something or someone - he had felt no need to either. The methods he used were chosen due to this wretched urge he felt every time she had crossed his path. He hadn't been unfamiliar with these emotions stirring in him - but the intensity of them had him struggle, had him furious at the effect she had on everything that made him the powerful, ruthless overlord that he had become. To think this unhealthy fascination with her powers, how riled up and agitated he got just seeing her in her resulote disinterest in power or status, the joy he felt sparring with her as she held her fort against him had been anything other than feelings of rivalry. But hell had a habit of twists like this - that what he thought was hatred turned out just the opposite. He still wasn't certain how he'd handle this predicament, but her note had been the perfect catalyst to explore the potential this little change held for him.

Just as the clock tower of Pride's main city began to strike nine, his destination so close - Something wrapped around his ankles and wrists, and hadn't Alastor been so lost in his thoughts he would've had enough time and mind to dodge the cables that had slithered towards him. A second too late he realized just what building he was in front of, before he was violently dragged by the electrified strings, out of the street and into the darkness behind the blue sliding doors of 'VoxTech Enterprises'.

"I thought" he heard a familiar, suave voice resounding in the pitch black darkness around him as the doors slid close, dripping of malicious glee that had Alastor furious behind his smiling mask "that with old age comes wisdom, Al. Seems you've skipped that phase and went straight to senile."

Alastor heard Vox's laugh, amplified from every direction. His hands and feet were spread apart, leaving him hanging with no sense of direction or solid ground beneath him. Without light, summoning his shadow was a useless endeavor - one of the only things Alastor regrettably shared with what was once a trusted partner not too long ago. And the only light was the laughably negligible red glow of his eyes, losing the battle against the black void around him. His best bet was to be buying time, so he decided to humor the fool until chance would show itself.

"Ah, no, I do quite remember your lack of imagination when it comes to these sorts of affairs." Alastor chuckled, a slight static distortion lacing his voice as the anger within him grew. "Glad to see that's at least one thing that hasn't changed."

Electricity burst from the wires that pulled him even further apart, sending shockwaves through him as Alastor's smile widened at Vox's inability to hide his rage.

"Mighty cocky for someone who's got his ass on the line, eh, old pal?" in the distance, a screen turned on, dim and flickering, showing the face of the smirking tv demon. "Tell me, Al, was it just stupidity that brought you right to my doorstep? Or did you already miss me that much?"

Alastor laughed mockingly, concentrating enough to at least create a shadow in the weak light around Vox's screen to smash it in before it dsappeared. "If I recall correctly, you were the one begging me not to leave, Voxxy. How is your face these days, by the way?"

The screen flickered as Vox's eyes went wild. "You motherf-"

"As to what brought me to these parts of our illustrious city," Alastor continued, gritting his teeth as another surge of electricity shot down his spine, making his shoulders jerk painfully in the tight cable's grip. "I was on my way to meet someone who is actually worth my while."

"Oh yeah? Well, they can send me a Thank-You-Note for saving them the disappointment your 'while' would've brought them." Vox sneered, a mocking smile appearing on the broken screen as he bared his teeth in a snarl. "Face it - You're done, Al. Finished. You can't do shit in here. I created this room specifically for you to die in - thanks for the intel, by the way. And believe me - I could kill you here and now, get rid of a fucking nuisance for everybody, and be called a hero for it. But for old time's sake, I'll offer you my deal once more." His joints cracked under the pressure of the pulling cables, and Alastor yanked in cold fury at them. Vox's voice was saturated with sadistic glee. "Join my team, be my second in command, my real partner this time and not a fucking uptight coward, and I'll spare you the humiliation of a slow, torturous and publicly viewed dea..."

A sudden boom had the cables and the screen shake and flicker, the image of Vox's face breaking up in pixels. Alastor felt his chest filling with a sudden eager anticipation of what - or who - the source of that explosion might've been. With a hiss, Vox's screen was restored to full resolution again, but his eyes were wide in confusion. "What the fuck was that?"

Alastor's laughter echoed across the room as another, louder explosion followed, along with panicked screams of pain and horror and he smiled over to the shocked overlord, heart beating with feverish euphoria. If the intensity of the detonations were any indicator, he was about to see a marvelous show of what true power looked like.

"It seems, old pal, that my date has arrived."

Vox didn't get to say anything else before one of the walls burst into its components and the room filled with the bright light of the neon signs illuminating the district, and amidst the clouds of dust settling, stood his darling alchemist. Her lab coat was stained in every beautiful shade of red, face and skin smeared with soot and the remnants of blood that wasn't hers, a look in her eyes that was so unhinged it made him shudder with all kinds of arousal, the aura around her glowing in a dangerous toxic green. Although her chest was heaving, there was no trace of exhaustion to her, only pure, cold rage.

"What the hell is going on? And who the fuck are you?!"

She didn't pay Vox any attention, walking up to Alastor as he ripped the remaining bits and pieces of cords and cables from his arms, her heels clacking loudly on the polished concrete floor.

"You are right on time, darling."

"And you were not - our table was canceled." Alastor had to refrain himself from giggling in feverish excitement as she walked past him, towards the stunned television demon that had been thrown into the back of the room by the force of the explosion and now leaned with his back against the wall, his expression mortified behind the cracked, flickering screen.

“Polyethylene, glass, sauter, copper, lead, platinum, silicone." Her voice was cold and calculating, each word a step closer and Vox shrunk away further into the wall behind him. Her face was neutral, a mask devoid of emotion and any trace of empathy or emotion, but her eyes sparkled full of life and fire. "But even though there are so many valuable building blocks in your electronic equipment - I can't say I appreciate the use."

She put her palm over Vox's monitor in an almost comforting gesture, her lips curling into a cruel smile as his casing started to melt and Vox screamed.

"Especially when it leaves me hungry and waiting for my dinner partner."

Alastor marveled at the beauty and precision of her strength and the effortless way she wielded it, her mind calculating every atom of Vox's technology, rendering the presumptous perfection of hell's television and phone industry to a wailing mess, his limbs and body twitching helplessly at the mercy of her touch, screen flickering with increasing speed the more damage she did. His pulse quickened, blood rushed deafeningly loud through his ears - She was dangerous and cruel and she was perfect, she was everything and so, so much more of anything he imagined and hoped her to be.

She let off Vox, his face half gone, his remaining speakers whimpering in agony and body trembling as she stood upright, looking down at the demon in disgust.

"Repeat this mistake and I will make sure I'll be there to slowly and painfully disintegrate you every time you start to respawn anew, Television Demon."

Alastor appeared beside her, making use of his shadows now that the requirement of light was covered, looking at the beaten form of his unfortunate rival with an amused laugh before taking his little alchemist's hand, breathing a kiss onto it with a smile.

"I apologize for the missed reservation, darling, but we can't have you left starving, can we? How about we relocate to my townhouse - I'll whip up a nice Pain Perdu while we discuss your... proposal, yes?"

When her face turned to him, her features slightly softened around the edges - barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but all too obvious to him, who had thought, dreamt and obsessed over her likeness enough times to see every tiny shift in her expression, even those one could interpret as her rare, discreet show of joy.

"I suppose that's an acceptable compromise."

It made the gnawing hunger inside him become all the more insatiable when she let him pull her closer, her hand still in his - warm and stained with remnants of Vox's fluids. He gave her the brightest of smiles as the destroyed room filled with radio static and his shadows swirled and wrapped themselves around them, shooting his wounded, rancorous ex-companion a sneering smile.

"I, again, have to disrespectfully decline your offer, my dear Vox. I'd rather invest my time into more..." He looked back at her, giving her an intense, heated gaze he refused to hide anymore, and the smile lingering on her lips growing into one that was just as sharp as his, and yet so much more endearing given its rarity. "...innovative propositions, I think is the right word."

Within a moment, the black swirls faded into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the shuddering, crying mess of the tv overlord behind.

Tagging for scientific purposes (based on comments/reblogs): @minkdelovely @macabr3-barbi3 @depressinglyobsessed @tywrites @mydickisjuicy

@littlebluefishtail @catticora @cosmiccandydreamer @anngray1369 @angeldustharmony

@jurijyuu @liz776 @selenezq

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.16 -Just Another Day in Paradise

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, soft yandere, pure sugary fluff, romance, slice-of-life, Valentine’s Day @alastorhazbin On AO3 Words: 4673

Happy Lunar New Year! It’s the Year of the Dragon, aka Dracula’s year. 

This was meant to be Ch 17, but I swapped the order between the two chapters because I thought this made more chronologic sense. This chapter also fits the theme of Valentine's Day better! We’re mostly just catching up with what has happened since the Reader moved in before they go on a little date.

There is a lot of narration because I don't have the ability to write that much slice-of-life for Alucard since his in-canon states are usually sulking, violence, anger, emotional breakdown, and cockiness (to hide the emotional turmoil). He's a romantic, but the joys of normal living don't come to him that easily. Same goes for me trying to write it.

A number of months have passed and you were settling into your life at Hellsing, strange as it had become. You continued to work, but were also required to report for training three times a week, where you would proceed to get your butt kicked. Despite the muscle ache and fatigue, it felt good to feel your body getting stronger, even if it sucked to have Alucard see you getting pummelled by the old man Ferguson whenever the vampire happened to drop by and watch. Last week, you finally began firearms training after Captain Ferguson decided your self-defence will suffice for now at your beginner's level.

Alucard was not always at Hellsing. Sometimes he was sent away to other cities for ‘assignments’ for days at a time. When he was not called upon for his services, he would have ample free time, where he mostly stayed in his dungeon staring off into space while sipping his precious wine. It appeared these days, other favourite pastimes were for him to scheme up ways to spook you around the manor and chasing you around the courtyard for sport as you returned from work.

You were quickly learning to check your surroundings for his presence, such as the funny shadows in the corner and misplaced eyes peeking from under tables. You knew to brace for him suddenly coming at you through the walls. But the vampire never terrorized you down in the basement. Whenever you went to see him at night, he never came with the intention of frightening you. It seemed his lair was meant to be a refuge and he reinforced your visits by not scaring you off with negative associations with the place. As if you were Pavlov’s dog in training…

The jerk! He thought he had you in his back pocket already, didn't he?! 

Still, you didn't venture into his dungeon nightly, even if wall lamps had been installed. It was just too uncomfortably eerie underground. The creeping darkness did not relinquish its clutches and every time you descended into the deep cold, it was difficult to shake the fear of the unseen despite knowing that Alucard would be at the end. 

Absent from the dungeon was the sun, which you were mildly surprised to discover you needed, and experiencing it from your balcony was wonderful on the odd days when it wasn’t raining and the sky wasn’t grey with clouds. When you basked in the early morning rays of late winter, Alucard would wait patiently inside your room for you to leave the warm light behind and return to him. He would frequent your chamber when you didn't reciprocate his visits, so eventually you had blackout curtains installed in your windows such that he wouldn’t have to deal with the light.

Your internal clock now operated on its own timeline. Sometimes you were up during the day for errands or the odd morning shift, where Alucard would come watch you getting ready and then see you off. You could also be training late into the night or spending the witching hours with him. There was so little time to be idle. 

With your sleep schedule all over the place, your circadian rhythm was likewise out of whack. When you nodded off in exhaustion in his arms or woke up in one of your beds, Alucard would hum to you occasionally when you were between consciousness and sleep, the enchanting baritone of his voice ushering you off into the safe realm of dreams or guiding you back into the world of wakefulness. He told you it was a lullaby Wallachian mothers used to sing to their babies to lull them to sleep. 

Nightmares were a distant memory. In fact, you never even experienced anything resembling an unsettling dream since moving into Hellsing. You suspected it had something to do with Alucard guarding your dreams, though he did not affirm this. You never expected your lover to do this for you and you thought it very sweet of him. Under the watchful eyes and gentle caresses of the vampire king, you slept more soundly than ever whenever you were at last given the opportunity.

Your most cherished moments were when you read together at night, when you’d sit just close enough to touch, but both be occupied with your own material. Too many times in the past, he came to watch you read. As it became too unnerving, you finally offered to lend him the first books of the series you were reading if he was interested. It was a cosmic injustice that the undead cat was capable of devouring literature nonstop night and day until he reached the end of a book. No eating or resting or even moving from his seat, except the times when he'd pause to fold you in half and–

You had precious little free time, but there were perks to living at an estate like Hellsing. Delicious meals were prepared and laundry services were provided when you didn’t want to do these chores yourself. When you wanted to cook your own food for Alucard and yourself, a smaller, fully equipped kitchen was available so you could be his home chef. What a quality of life improvement! 

You sighed, smiling to yourself as you stretched out in bed and recalled the whirlwind of the past months. At long last, you had a day off to yourself. Alucard was somewhere and you were excited to leave the premises to venture out into the city. Not only would you temporarily escape the polite small-talk and gossip of the serving staff, you could finally also get some fresh air away from the stringent rules of this military compound.

Alucard shadowing you was now a familiar comfort so you knew you were not alone, but there was a purpose to your trip today and with him absent, it was the perfect chance to go.

There was a bounce to your step as you made your way through one of countless identical hallways with freedom on your mind. One painting after another passed by. You halted, your hair standing on end at once when your eyes skimmed over a detail on the wall by chance. Crimson glowed from the irises in a noble’s portrait. Letting out a breath, you put a hand over your chest and scowled at Alucard. 

The eyes curled with laughter. “You are becoming quite adept at seeking out my presence.” The shadows peeled from the painting and the towering vampire stepped out to stare down at you. “You cannot escape from me. I will always find you wherever you go.” He announced with a self-assured expression.

“I wasn’t even running this time,” you replied with an indignant shrug and tugged the straps to your bag higher over your shoulders. “I already have plans today. Find something else to do with yourself that doesn't involve bothering me.” There was a glint in his eyes as that smirk grew wider.

Your brows twitched. “I don’t need an armed escort!”

He was following you down the hall, so you ignored him as you kept walking towards the foyer, now used to the way his smooth gait made him appear as if he was almost floating. When the infuriating vampire remained at your heel several paces later, you spun, bristling as you tried to shoo him off like a pest. “Must you follow me? I’ll be back soon and it’s daytime!” You asked him.

He caught your hands with a light touch and brought his face close to yours, softly rubbing circles on your palms with his thumbs.

“You are my responsibility,” he whispered. 

It was Sir Integra’s command. Vermillion pinned you to the spot and you glared back, pressing your lips together until you broke eye contact first and stared at the carpeted floor. You were his.

Alucard had already decided to join his human on the day’s adventures despite your protests. And so you ended up going shopping with an ancient peacock who didn’t know how not to attract attention.

--------------------

Colourful displays lined both sides of the boulevard and people were queuing outside several of the most popular boutiques. The atmosphere was electric with the air buzzing with life and excited chatter. You would have shared in the high spirits of the strangers around you, if it weren’t for your flashy companion souring the mood.

You were an idiot. You spent so much time researching which specialty stores you wanted to visit, you made no alternate plans in case anyone from Hellsing decided to keep tabs on you. Worst of all, it had to be Alucard. There would actually be no issue if it was anyone but him. All you wanted to do was to buy him a gift! How could anyone so old be this clueless?! 

The flamboyant vampire towered more than a foot over nearly every person around him and people were giving him space. The bright red of his fedora and trench coat screamed, but who were you trying to fool? Alucard would still stand out wearing anything else in each of his forms. It was in his nature for the curtains to be drawn for him on stage. 

The problem was you didn’t appreciate the attention as people gawked at Alucard, even if you couldn’t deny that it was convenient to have the crowd part to make way for the pair of you coming through. You stewed as you tried to think up a way to get him to give you a few minutes alone, but every swoosh of his duster only exacerbated your ire. With his telepathy, he should know what you were up to, so any element of surprise was already ruined.

“I can scent your frustration,” he stated with his signature grin plastered to his face.

“Why yes. Ever since I became incarcerated at Hellsing, it’s been ‘go go go’ all day, everyday. And now on my only full day off in quite a while, I’m stuck with you. Can’t a lady get some privacy?” You railed to air your grievances.

“You are not a prisoner,” he murmured with a frown while gazing down at you. Unreadable golden pools swirled lazily behind tinted lenses.

You rolled your eyes and was about to remind him of all your lost privileges.

“You are not a prisoner,” he repeated with his eyes narrowed, “You are mine.”

You jolted, eyes widening before your mouth clamped shut. The vampire was so casual with throwing the assertion around, especially in public. Of course you knew it already. He told you multiple times before and frequently referred to you as ‘his human,’ ‘his Darling,’ or something to that effect. 

Alucard’s gloved hand remained on the small of your back as he guided you through the throngs, feeling strangely comforted by the claim of possession. It was the same way as he would through the manor, particularly on nights you were feeling intensely uncertain about your place at Hellsing, he would proudly let the world know you were with him.

You wanted to melt into the ground at the thought that being Alucard’s was merely a euphemism for being his prisoner.

Lifting your eyes as you noted the cross-section and stalled, the background noise of the crowd disappeared as you became the only two people in the world. The people flowed around you. You fidgeted from foot to foot as you looked back up at your vampire.

“We’re here,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze snapped from you to the storefront. A chocolate store?

“It was meant to be a surprise.” You muttered with a deflated pout. It really wasn’t that big of a deal for Alucard to accompany your outing, but you wanted to keep the small components under wraps until you were ready to present them together.

When you looked back up, your view was obscured by a huge white palm. Alucard’s hand landed on your head and he ruffled your hair. His expression was warm. “I will wait here,” he said.

--------------------

You made relatively quick work of shopping inside, though you had a blast conversing with the owner and choosing the chocolates for your……boyfriend…

Your choices were loaded with coffee and alcohol-infused truffles. Alucard seemed the sort to enjoy the various champagne, whiskey, and espresso flavours. 

Making your way through the patterned glass exit with the fancy bag filled with premium confections, waves of irritation washed over you upon seeing several young women making eyes at Alucard from a short distance. Luckily for them, they weren’t daring enough to approach the strange man. You pushed the feeling down and went up to him, whose gaze was already fixed on you before you opened the door.

“Little one, shall we depart to your next destination? The sun is rather fatiguing.” He greeted you with a grin as you took his arm.

“I apologize for keeping you past your bedtime. I told you to stay home,” you scoffed while rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you act more like a vampire and stay out of the sun like Seras?”

The original vampire lifted a brow at you. “The police girl refuses to drink and as such, she has not yet become a true vampire.” 

You peered up and let out an exasperated sigh, “Stop calling her that. It’s not nice! She has a name and you’re always too harsh with her.”

“I’m not nice.”

You snorted at the amused vampire as a teen on a hoverboard charged closer at speed until his eyes popped at the sight of the crimson giant ahead, swerving to avoid Alucard and nearly crashing to the side. Expletives were hurled his way by other pedestrians as you and your vampire left the scene without a second glance.

“Little human, you referred to Hellsing as ‘home.’”

“I did…” You tilted your head with puzzlement, not even noticing when the word slipped as you were conversing. When did you start thinking of that place as such when the lifestyle there remained so foreign? You glanced up to study your lover’s face.

Alucard purred softly, the image of satisfaction. Up against him, only you would feel the vibrations of the rumble. "If you were my fledgling, I would not hesitate to feed you. We would have an eternity for me to teach you the ways of our kind."

There was heat in his eyes and you quickly looked away, so flustered your eyes darted everywhere except back at him. You weren’t prepared for ruminating such prospects nor this discussion again. Your companion chuckled at your reaction as he led you through a quieter street.

People meandered leisurely, stopping to point at the latest statement releases of the season. You ambled along awkwardly, caught up in the reveries of your own life for some distance until something in a display caught your eyes. Oh! Your interest had been piqued for months; you even spent hours on researching the specs and other alternatives to this product. You turned your head to stare at it as you passed.

Alucard stopped.

You barely noticed him as your eyes watered at the price until he was slipping away and heading to the entrance.

“Wait! No!” Grabbing onto his wrists, you tried to yank him away from behind. “It’s way too expensive for what it is!”

He took another step forward, dragging you with him, so you raced around to his front to block his approach. 

“If you desire this item, I shall purchase it for you.”

“Alucard, stop! I really don’t need it!” Money was no object to the eldritch terror, but you put your hands to his chest and applied pressure to try nudging him away, to no avail. Several couples who were close slowed to observe the spectacle. A young woman tittered at what she undoubtedly thought was a cute exchange between a dark, dashing stranger and his romantic interest.  

“Sweet, you should seize the things you desire, but if you are unwilling, I shall, as my offerings to you.”

Seize–

Your eyes bugged and you giggled sheepishly at the Medieval man in front of you. You pushed at his chest to try steering him away again with a big smile. Alucard’s brows furrowed.

“Something is amusing?”

You bursted out laughing, but attempted to maintain some decorum, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than you already were.

You whispered so only he heard you. “Alucard, you’re so silly! Sometimes people browse stuff only because the idea of those material goods bring them some joy, not because we actually want or need them. Have you forgotten what it is like to be human? It seems you have a lot to remember about human emotions.” Still snickering lightly, you tugged the large vampire down to lay a peck to his forehead.

You beamed at Alucard before running ahead to the next store, leaving him behind with a stunned expression.

--------------------

You had the wine and the chocolate. And Alucard suggested a much better destination to enjoy them together than your original idea of having them in his dungeon with just the two of you, though you had to make a detour to pick up plastic wine cups.

The rambling hills of Hampstead Heath rolled in tumbling waves over hundreds of acres that embraced ponds and woodlands. You passed the drive leading to the historic grounds of the Kenwood Estate. As beautiful as the building was, the idea was to escape from British mansions for the day.

Dense reeds swayed in coordination with the wind, thick and with the likeness of a woman batting her lashes at a lover. Waterfowl were returning to the ponds and the occasional nature photographer stopped to capture these winged marvels. Alucard took you through trails down the east end of the enormous park, sticking close to the ponds until you reached a clearing, and suddenly, the tranquil stroll through nature exploded with life. 

It had been years since you last sat at this lovely hilltop viewpoint overlooking London’s skyline. Couples abounded in every direction. It seemed romance was in the air this mild, sunny day. Some younger pairs frolicked in a merry gambol while others sat together head on shoulder to enjoy the spectacular view. It was so warm there were even families picnicking.  

Yes, this was superior to that dingy basement. 

Nostalgia hit you hard as you took in the views of home. You used to live in that neighbourhood roughly over there. Day in and day out, you’d make your commute between work and home. And Alucard used to chase you around that area, though most of it was hidden from this vantagepoint. Turning to your lover, you found him lost in thought as well as he gazed into the distance, recalling a past brimming with events unknown to you.

The midnight essence of his locks billowed gently with the breeze. He was so pale. Despite his conviction about hating the sun, once again, the light casted his arresting features with a divine glow. Like a fallen angel, or something even holier. 

From out of the blue, the hilarious image of Alucard as Cupid bubbled up. He was a lanky deity draped in loose robes, wielding a bow and shooting arrows at random pairs of people for his entertainment. That they would fall in love was merely an accidental by-product of his fun. You squashed the ridiculous idea hopefully before Alucard saw it too, but let out a chortle. God of Love? Him? Who were you kidding? Your vampire’s gaze slid sideways to you with a slight fanged smile before he turned his attention back to the cityscape.

The mellow warmth of the unseasonal weather gave you comfort. You came to the realization your previous qualms about the obstacles of being with Alucard were fading. Like leftover winter sludge melting away with the balminess of spring, replaced by your gentle, simmering affection for the vampire. Spring will arrive early, and the barren trees will likely come into bud soon as the season of new beginnings comes into being.

As always, Alucard grounded you too. Watching him stand alone, all of your doubt suddenly went away somehow. You were getting used to the late nights, early mornings, and the smarting bruises from physical training. It wasn’t awful at Hellsing as long as you had him. 

You opted to forego Alucard’s old-fashioned way of taking his offered arm and laced your fingers with his instead. Putting your other hand over the back of Alucard’s, you exhaled. “You probably already knew of all my plans since you spoiled the surprise yourself by poking around in my head.”

You chose a grassy spot where the hill swelled higher to sit and your vampire joined you, throwing his spidery legs straight out as he leaned back on his hands.

“I know of the saint.” He glanced over. “Such an inane occasion.” To need the excuse of some saint’s legacy from over a millennium ago in order to celebrate one’s lover was indeed absurd.

The corners of your lips lifted. “Have you never celebrated Valentine’s before, Alucard?”

“Time spent with you is already the greatest gift.”

His stare was intense and your expression softened, your chest tightening at the sincerity of your lover’s statement, no longer feeling like being a brat. Time was indeed your limiting factor. You met halfway and kissed him with an extended, delicate touch to show him you felt the same way and he nuzzled you, as he usually did.

Yours.

“Feed me,” he murmured as you parted with a soft, dreamy look. This again. You rolled your eyes at his demand, but complied. 

After letting the vampire open his gift himself, you went with a champagne truffle to start –to commemorate the occasion, but also everything that transpired between you. How far you’d come from where you began.

You sucked in a breath as the cold muscle of Alucard’s tongue slipped around your finger after he took the treat. He licked the melting chocolate off your fingertips with a deep rumble. 

“We’re in public!” You gasped and ripped your hand away as he lapped at his lips with a satisfied grin. He sniffed the air.

“Scotch next,” he said.

“Only if you’ll stop being a creep!”

The vampire chuckled as he helped open the red wine. He turned the bottle over to read the label before decanting into the plastic cups. “Ah –an excellent choice.” He eyed the box as you referred to the legend to find his choice of scotch truffle. Not everyone could simply sniff out what was what from several feet away. 

You offered the next piece and he bit into it while holding your gaze. Not bothered by his antics this time, you tossed the other half in your own mouth and savoured the flavours melting into your tongue. Swirling your glass, you took a sip of wine when the chocolate passed, pleased to find the flavours went well together.

Beside you, Alucard sampled his own glass and let out a contented moan. You shimmied closer to rest your head on his shoulder in imitation of the other couples around you and peeked up at him again with a tiny smile. It really was pleasant to see him this relaxed and carefree.

He fed you a strawberry truffle, leaving his index finger on your lips while you chewed, only to stroke your bottom lip after you swallowed. You broke physical contact first, sure the two of you were the subjects of greater scrutiny to whoever watched you long enough. 

“This is why I can’t be in public with you!”

Your companion’s face broke into a wicked smirk. “Still heeding what others may think?”

“If you’d be normal, I wouldn’t have this issue. Not everyone enjoys being at the centre of attention.”

Alucard’s eyes narrowed into slits, though the smile now split his face in half. He was up to something and you were worried to find out what.

He stood abruptly and extended a hand to you, which you hesitantly took with a suspicious side-eye as he lifted you to your feet and you dusted off imaginary dirt from your bottom.

“Would my lady care for a dance?” The hypnotic timbre to his voice distracted you from the question.

Your mouth fell open when it dawned after a moment. You just told him! Centre of attention!

A busker was playing the cello in the park, the sweet melody carrying far into the distance. You knew all the lyrics to this song’s instrumental version.

The vampire guided your left hand to his outer arm to form a closed hold, a playful glint in his scarlet gaze. “H-here? I can’t–” you protested.

He was already moving. It was as if he pushed you along for the first few steps and you faltered, still reeling from the turn of events, but the vampire held you steady. Stand up straight, support your own weight, maintain muscle tone. Keep your weight at the front of your feet. The ballroom teachings from a lifetime ago whispered from memory.

Alucard was an experienced dancer. He led you expertly with fluid motions, drawing you in and nudging you away with clear signals that made it easy to follow. You felt the connection between your bodies. You twirled when he lifted your arm in an arc, spun into his arm backwards when he willed it. You stepped in time to the same rhythm as the background faded.

One step closer.

The chords sang out harmonious and clear. He was speeding up. Gradually, you danced faster and faster, waltzing to the beat in Alucard’s mind, a whirlwind of feet and swirling trench coats under the afternoon sun. You stepped backwards quickly as he rushed forward boldly, all your attention given to him for you to keep up. As was his attention dedicated to you. 

Never once did he step on you, one of his feet was offset precisely between yours whenever he brought you flush with him. Never once did he look away from you or let you lose your balance. Who would have expected this wild beauty to be able to take his battle finesse and flow like water transformed by music? 

Only you and him existed in the world, the colours and promises of a future together swelling your chest with joy that was at last blooming from a once dormant seed, one that only began to sprout in recent times. Despite his annoying quirks, you could envision a lifetime with this man. The idyllic routine of late was not so bad.

The song was nearing its end. The vampire picked you off the ground by the legs, the other hand around your back and spun with you cradled in his arms effortlessly. Your shit-eating grin matched your lover’s.

You finished your dance with one last spin and you curtsied to the audience that gathered. Your heart beat fast as you laughed and jumped at Alucard, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Please don’t let this end. You lost your reservations with the exhilaration, pressing your lips harder against the cool flesh and taking the time to breathe him in as the surroundings returned. 

Looking around, you heard cheers, whooping, and clapping for your performance as you caught your breath. That was so surreal, but it was actually a lot of fun.

The music of your laughter chimed in Alucard’s ears and mind, clear as a ringing bell and pure and indulgent. It was your jubilation in his chest, the innocent joy at being with him. There was a warm fuzzy feeling that flared as you caught his gaze again. Cupping the back of your head, his gaze grew tender and he leaned over to make doling out your affection on him easier on you. Your excitement wafted off your skin. His bangs formed a veil as he pressed your foreheads together and committed this moment to memory.

You were simply too precious for this world.

~To Be Continued~

Next Chapter- True Bravery

Notes:

The material goods Alucard uses are all luxury when it comes to weaponry, costing millions of pounds and a sizable dent in Integra’s budget. But Alucard can also be a minimalist and existed in less than Spartan conditions in the Hellsing basement before Reader. When it comes to his Reader, I think all Alucard would want is her time, touch, and her attention. He doesn’t need expensive gifts from her and would be displeased if she went out of her way to get something exorbitant for him. I actually wanted her to take Alucard to see a Broadway musical for a date, but writing a chapter following a live show’s plot and their interactions was too large of a task.

Reader is finally understanding Alucard's point whenever he declares that she is his and how it’s not a bad thing. It’s not merely a statement of possession, but also a promise.

Please read: Is anyone interested in reading some Vladcard bondage smut? I was staring at a pic of him and then BOOM! Horny! A potential Interlude 3 is brewing. Let me know either in the comments or on my poll to vote anonymously for a few more days. If this isn’t sexy, I’ll just keep my fantasy to myself, let it run wild, and continue with the storyline.

The above fanart is among my favourite images of Alucard that exists. It was created by the incredibly talented ケースワベ【K-SUWABE】 on Twitter (X). Thought it was perfect for the contents of this chapter.

[chevelleneech]

The fact that I’m seeing y’all say Marisol was dropped off camera was well… Tim had no clue what he was doing this season and it shows. I’m sorry y’all, but I’ve been saying it since 7x04.

He clearly had a plan for the cruise arc, but every thing else seems rushed and like a fresh start more so than a well-rounded plot. Tommy and Marisol especially.

Tommy existed to get Buck out the closet, but he did not need to stick around. My guess is Tim didn’t want Buck to be single, but also as I’ve said, he likes the hype Buddie brings but has zero plans to actually commit. Good story or not.

As for Marisol, he admitted to having no idea what to do with her. So of course she was gonna be an issue, but he could have had her break up with Eddie when he asked her to move back out. It was such a waste of writing and screen time to have him cheat for no reason. Because yes, the Kim plot was stupid as hell, and only served to break up Marisol and Eddie and get Chris to Texas.

I love this show so so much, but s7 was the worst thus far. None of the calls were memorable, the characters didn’t really do much in terms of growth or dealing with consequences of their actions or emotional turmoil, and it was overall sloppy. Yes, Bobby went through a lot and Eddie lost Chris, but these storylines would’ve been better fleshed out across five/six episodes. Not the last two or three, inter-spliced with useless relationship drama.

Useless, because Buck and Eddie should have been single to begin with this season. The only stories worth a damn were *Henren and Madney, and ABC ain’t lift a single damn finger to promote them for real. A shame. They relied on bi!Buck and Buddie chit chat, and from what it sounds like and what the finale offered, that was a waste.

(*) Also gonna add, while I’m glad Henren and Madney got storylines this season despite the obvious skew toward the Big Thing being Buck coming out, it’s played out how many times Hen and Karen are given a “We want a daughter.” story to arch the whole season and then have it fail. It’s played out how many times Chimney and Maddie are written as having a big happy moment crushed by a traumatic episode, then they’re just happy again.

I genuinely feel like Tim did absolutely nothing with this season.

[whats-it-mean]

hi hii! may i request either 03 or 09 (or john !! whichever u think would be most interesting) x reader going through the effects of the unforgiven veredict？

if what i mean isnt understandable i can explain further

Innocent in their eyes ☆

Fuuta Kajiyama + Mikoto Kayano (separate) x reader 

A/N - Fuuta is my cat. i love him. Hope its ok i went with mikoto rather than john, but i’ve been wanting to write for the silly boy for a bit so i took this as a bit of an excuse to do so ^^ (john does kinda make an appearance tho)

C/W - Anxiety, hearing voices

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Fuuta Kajiyama

Any concern he had for his own well being was gone in an instant as Fuuta rushed to your figure, you being curled up and shaking in the corner of your cell. In a matter of seconds, his arms were wrapped around you and you were brought right up against his chest, his breathing just as rapid as yours as your tears wet his clothes.

You sputtered out a faint apology, followed by ‘this is my fault’, and the boy practically shattered. He desperately tried to pull you closer, burying his face in your shoulder as he held you.

“Shut up. No it’s not.” His voice was almost frantic as he spoke. “It’s not your fault, okay? Don’t.. don’t say that.”

For the first time in a while, it felt like the voices constantly condemning you hushed while Fuuta hugged you on the floor. It was comfortably silent as he simply held you, breathing heavily from the way he ran immediately to you from where he’d been upon hearing about tour verdict.

He knew full well how awful it was, the way the voices never stopped, the way it felt like you were constantly being watched, being judged. The pain was almost unbearable for him, but the idea of you suffering through that brought out a side of him nobody ever saw. He was scared- All he ever wanted was to make sure you were okay and safe, and the idea of you having to suffer through the anguish of a guilty verdict was worse than his own.

You let out a weak smile as his breathing finally started to slow back to a normal pace, and felt yourself leaning into his hold. “….Thank you.”

A slight calm washed over him as he heard your voice, and his grip tightened. “It wasn’t your fault. You.. You aren’t guilty, okay?”

He sighed, smiling against your shoulder as he hugged you.

“You’re as innocent as can be as far as i see it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Mikoto Kayano

No words were spoken as Mikoto slid himself next to you on your mattress, quietly offering you a mug of hot chocolate with a tired smile. He leaned over you slightly, placing his arm on your shoulder and let his fingers play around with your hair. All you could bring yourself to do was stare into the mug, but you laid your head on Mikoto’s shoulder in a small show of gratitude.

“You know..” His voice was quiet as he spoke, just loud enough for you to hear. “Es is wrong. We’re gonna get out of here soon, okay? I promise.”

With the hand that wasn't already busy with your hair, you felt his fingers entwine with yours as he squeezed your hand ever so slightly. He was convinced even before now that the verdicts given by Es weren’t accurate- As far as Mikoto knew, both of you were there by mistake, but that didn’t stop the turmoil that came with being deemed guilty.

For days since receiving the verdict, you had stayed holed up in your cell. You wouldn't even leave for meals, and so Mikoto coming by like this with food and drinks had become a routine over the past few days. He was the only one you were willing to see at the time, and even then you barely spoke to him, just sitting next to him and taking in all the warmth he had to offer to distract you from the pain.

And watching you go through that triggered emotions in him he hasn’t had to deal with in a long time.

He couldn’t remember any of it, but some of the other prisoners told him he’d even gotten into a fistfight trying to stop Kotoko from hurting you. And even without memory of the fact, as he sat here, your hand in his with him whispering any sort of encouragement he could to you, there was no doubt about it;

You didn’t deserve this, and while he may not know it yet, you could tell he was gonna be doing something about it later.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── End

[reina-writes]

MISSED CALL. Pedro Pascal x reader [Hi, it's me -series, #2]

Summary: After a long day on set, Pedro leaves a heartfelt voice message, expressing his concerns and struggles.

Characters: Pedro Pascal x reader Warnings: Mention of a prop gun and shooting. A/N: This is a short fanfic, being part of my "Hi, it's me" -series with Pedro, collection of simple, short fanfics. This series with short fanfics is inspired after having a dream about Pedro leaving a comforting voice message. As I said before, I wanted to explore more his character and improve my own writing. I usually don't write anything with a real person, but this time I made an expectation. Pedro is so sweet. I will ensure that the fanfic remains tasteful and respectful towards the real person. Part 1: LATE NIGHT CALLS.

*********** The prop gun in Pedro's hand felt heavier than usual as he adjusted his stance, trying to get into character. The scene called for a tense confrontation, and he had to portray a conflicted character torn between duty and compassion. In front of him, a small blonde woman knelt on the ground, her tear-streaked face covered in dirt, desperately pleading for mercy while shielding a frightened child on her lap.

Pedro's gaze locked with the woman's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the genuine fear and desperation in her eyes, even though he knew it was all part of the scene. But as he held the weight of the gun in his hand, an unexpected hesitation washed over him. In that brief pause, Pedro's mind couldn't help but wander to thoughts of you.

As the camera continued to roll, he found himself caught between the scripted lines and his own inner turmoil. "There's a debt to be paid, Rosie," Pedro said, his voice faltering for a moment before regaining its composure. "This is the only way the scale will be balanced." His tone was cold and calculated as he pressed the trigger. The scene came to an end with the director calling "Cut."

As the director approached Pedro and his co-star, he knew this would be a long day at work.

******

Sun had set hours ago, when Pedro finally found himself alone in his trailer. This wasn't his best day and even though he had tried his best, somehow the outcome wasn't exactly what he wanted. Every scene, every line, every moment was overshadowed by the yearning to be with you. Ruffling his soft curls while letting out a long, exhausted sigh, Pedro pulled out his phone to see if you had already answered in his latest text message.

As Pedro's eyes scanned through his notifications, his heart sank a little when he realized there was no response from you yet. He knew he shouldn't let it bother him too much. After all, everyone had their own lives and responsibilities. But deep down, he couldn't shake off the concern that something might be wrong. Feeling a mix of worry and disappointment, Pedro decided to give you a call. He held his breath as the phone rang, but there was no answer. It went straight to voicemail. A wave of unease washed over him, and he couldn't help but leave a voice message, hoping to ease his growing anxiety.

"Hey, it's me," Pedro started, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright. I know we're both busy, and I understand if you haven't had the chance to respond. But I can't help but worry about you. Please, whenever you get a chance, give me a call or just send a message to let me know you're okay."

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "You were right, by the way. About this film, I mean. This character I'm playing, he's really something... I don't know, this was one of the hardest day on the set so far. I kept messing with my lines and my character, I don't even know why. I just..." he took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I want to give my very best for this film, I don't want to disappoint everyone."

His fingers tapped the armrest of the sofa as he tried to find right words. "I... I don't want you to be disappointed in me. You're the reason I finally agreed to do this, because you said there wouldn't be anyone else to make this character alive. You believe in me, you're always supporting me no matter what and... and you don't know how much that means to me, mi amor. Your presence, your support, your laughter. You have this way of grounding me, of making everything feel right. And right now, I could really use that."

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart. "These past few days have felt empty without you. I know this job is taking a lot of my time right now, but maybe we could have video call. I heard some new terrible jokes that I know you're going to love." A gentle chuckle escaped his lips as he imagined the scene. "I promise, they're so bad that you won't be able to resist laughing. Actually, I have to tell you one joke" Pedro said with a playful tone.

"Why did the scarecrow win an award?" He paused for a moment, relishing in the cheesiness of the joke. "Because he was outstanding in his field!" Pedro couldn't help but chuckle at his own joke, hoping that it would bring a little laughter to your day. "I know, it's terrible," he added with a laugh. "But sometimes the worst jokes are the ones that can make us smile, even if it's just to roll our eyes. So, I hope it brought a little joy to your day."

With a warm smile on his face, Pedro concluded the voice message. "Alright, I'll stop torturing you with my jokes now. Just remember, I'm here for you, and I can't wait to hear from you. And let me know if you can add the video call on your busy schedule. Take care, and remember to keep smiling, even if it's because of a silly joke. Bye for now!"

As he set his phone aside, Pedro couldn't help but imagine the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears. He hoped that soon, you would have the opportunity to share moments like this in person again, where your laughter would mingle, and the connection would grow stronger.

***

It took only 5 minutes for you to answer to him. As Pedro opened the message, he was greeted with a picture of you snuggling the blanket with a smile. He could sworn his hard skipped a beat, as he saw your gorgeous smile that reached your shining eyes.

Sorry, my nap ended up being 4-HOUR LONG, HOLY WATER WHY DID I SLEEP THAT LONG?! I guess no sleep for me tonight... So how about that video call tonight, I'd love that. You could tell me what happened with today's shooting. And I just want you to know that I believe in you. No matter what challenges you face on set, I have faith in your talent and your ability to bring your character to life.

Ps. That joke was so bad and I don't know why it made me laugh, seriously Pedro, why? :D

Pedro's heart swelled with joy as he read your response. A smile spread across his face, lighting up the entire room. He couldn't help but chuckle at your comment about the joke. It was a relief to know that even his terrible jokes could bring a smile to your face. Quickly typing a reply, Pedro expressed his excitement for the upcoming video call. The anticipation and excitement filled his every thought, and he knew that no matter how tough the day had been, knowing that he would be able to connect with you made everything worthwhile.

[misshoneyimhome]

Can you please write something sexy/smutty/funny with Freddie Andersen? Maybe along the lines where he and Y/N are in a established relationship, and in a ~love making~ night he gets maybe too eager and finished first and he gets embarrassed but she just makes fun of it and plays it cool and he's determined to give her a good time and redeemed himself!

I love you writing! Thank You! ❤️

I really hope you can understand my request 🙈

Oh, thank you very much, bb! 🤍 Of course, it makes perfect sense 😉

Omg, yes! A Freddie request 😍 I've missed this man so much! So of course, I can create something about my favourite ginger man 🤍 It's been a while since I've written about him, and I truly appreciate you sending me this request!

I do apologise for the sports puns, though… 🙈

Warnings; 18+ smut; fingering; unprotected sex (p in v); creampie; more fingering; more unprotected sex; more creampie; play with cum?... I don't know, something along those lines

・✶ ｡ﾟ

I’m gonna fuck love the Hell out of you I Freddie Andersen 🖋️⚡️

It had been too long.

Far too long since you'd felt the touch of your boyfriend, and since you'd touched him.

But it wasn't his fault, not in the slightest.

For months, Frederik Andersen had been wrestling with his health, and as his girlfriend, you'd supported him to the best of your abilities. Whatever he needed, you'd been there – both physically and emotionally.

Freddie, usually a calm and reserved man, was slowly being consumed by the struggles that kept him from the hockey rink. Hockey wasn't just a job for him; it was everything he loved. It was intricately woven into his personality, and without it, he felt empty.

It wasn't that you weren't important, or that he didn't cherish having you around. You were his partner, a significant part of his life. However, hockey meant more than just a sport to him; it was his lifeblood.

And you understood his turmoil, or at least you tried to. The emptiness that lingered when he couldn't engage in the sport he loved reflected in his eyes, and you couldn't help but ache for him. You'd been by his side through the physical struggles, the emotional toll, and the silent battles he fought within himself.

Now, as the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months, you found yourself yearning for the return of normality. Yearning for the days when the touch of his hands wasn't overshadowed by the weight of his health concerns. It was time – time for the healing to progress, for the quiet moments to be filled with shared laughter and stolen kisses, and for Freddie to reclaim the joy that hockey once brought to his life.

It was as if his eyes lit up with an intense brightness the moment the doctor gave him the all-clear on his health issue, though the reminder lingered that he'd have to take it slow and wait before fully returning to hockey.

Yet, the two of you felt like you could conquer the world.

With Freddie's smile finally gracing his lips again, you decided to make a proper night out of it, complete with a romantic dinner – not the health-conscious meals he'd been stuck with for the past few months. No tonight, you both cooked his favourite dish together.

And as you indulged in the deliciousness, laughter echoed through the room of your shared apartment. Freddie was back to cracking jokes, even discussing hockey, which had been a topic he'd avoided as it only brought him sadness, knowing he couldn't play. Oh, his sweet laughter.

The beautiful sound you'd missed so much. But what you craved even more was the feeling of his hands on you. The way his large palms would roam your body, making you feel small and at ease as he gently caressed and massaged you.

Freddie had a way of making you feel incredible.

It was one of the things that had captivated you from the beginning. The way he took his time the first time you were intimate, exploring every inch of your curves, ensuring no skin went unnoticed. He had made you feel as light as a feather under his touch, undressing you, kissing you, and eventually using his fingers to prepare you for him.

Freddie was a big man, everyone knew that. His 6′4″ and 238 pounds could easily envelop your small figure, and not to mention his member. Though it wasn’t unrealistically large, it certainly matched the rest on him, and you knew from the first time he’d push it into you, you’d have to adjust to it.

And as soon as you'd become comfortable to his length and girth, he thrust into your warmth, feeling every inch of your tight walls around him as he pounded and pushed you over the edge.

Yes, Freddie had the ability to make you see stars simply by making sweet and passionate love to you.

Yet, it was nothing compared to when he was in one of his moods, particularly after a bad loss or a great win. Freddie could turn 180 degrees, and the sweet, calm, and quiet man would transform into a beast.

Or on those nights when you'd be a tease – whether unintentionally or not – he'd lose control and simply dominate you, asserting that you were his and no one else's.

Because you were indeed like no one he'd ever been with before. Despite your limited knowledge of his home country and background, you showed nothing but interest in him and curiosity.

You had devoted yourself to him and his lifestyle from the very beginning, and he fell so quickly and hard in love with you that he couldn't even believe it himself. No one could have prepared him for how deeply he would come to love you.

Then, when his injury came, rendering him unable to play hockey for an indefinite period, he feared the worst. He was no longer the cheerful man you'd fallen in love with. Nor was he capable of showing you the love and affection you deserved, paying you attention, and sharing intimate moments. No, he felt almost handicapped.

Like Superman without his cape or Batman without his Batmobile.

However, to you, it didn't matter.

Freddie was your boyfriend, the love of your life, irrespective of his physical state or career, and you were committed to being by his side through it all.

Every waking moment, you endeavoured to bring a smile to his face, assuring him that everything would improve, and no matter what, he wouldn't be alone in this. Though the future remained uncertain for both of you, one thing was certain – you would face it together.

And tonight, you could finally celebrate as he neared full recovery and a return to the rink.

Furthermore, it appeared that you weren't the only one eager for the occasion. Freddie's hands roamed over you as you cleared the table, did the dishes, and ensured there was nothing to attend to in the morning.

His lips found your neck at every possible moment, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses mixed with gentle nips from his teeth. And you could sense his cock slowly growing in his trousers, quicker than usual, as you felt your cunt almost at a pulsating rhythm between your legs.

"Freddie," you moaned softly as he stood behind you, his face buried in the crook of your neck while his hands massaged your breasts through your clothes. You had to steady yourself against the kitchen counter as his mouth worked its magic on the sensitive skin.

"I want you… now," Freddie's words were deep and husky, his movements impatient and eager, and you couldn't help but sink into his touch.

"Bedroom, Freddie," you managed to whimper, and in no time, Freddie carried you out of the kitchen, placing you on your back on the bed.

Under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, you and Freddie then found yourselves naked, tangled in the sheets of your shared king size bed. The room echoed with the hushed sounds of soft moans and whispered sweet nothings as Freddie kissed your jawline and massaged your breasts.

You felt his eager member teasing your inner thigh, your fingers weaving through his thick ginger hair as he connected his lips with yours again, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You could sense his hunger.

Using a hand to sneak down between your bodies, Freddie gently circled your clit a few times before pushing in two fingers. Yet, as soon as he felt your tight, warm walls around them, impatience and a desperate need to replace it with his cock took over.

It was as if all his usual calm, patient, and focused goalie skills had vanished during his time away from the ice, and tonight he felt needy.

Swiftly withdrawing his digits, he replaced them with his length, slowly easing into your core, feeling every stretch he caused you. Moans escaped your lips as Freddie's large member filled you up, not even fully in before the tip hit your very back. His strong arms on either side of you tensed as he began rocking his hips, letting his shaft stimulate your walls with every thrust, as he found a steady rhythm.

"Yes, Freddie… Mmm, you feel so good," you whimpered as heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with sweat, sweet noises of pleasure, and skin slapping together. 

It was intense, eager, and almost rushed as Freddie suddenly increased his speed, feeling his climax building up and his patience challenging him as he became desperate for release. In a way, he seemed to forget all about your needs, something he'd always attended to first, but not tonight.

And as the passion between you escalated, Freddie's eagerness got the best of him. In a moment that could only be described as "goal-scoring speed," he reached the finish line a little sooner than anticipated.

“Shit…” 

Feeling the rush take over, he let out a deep, uncontrolled grunt as he spilled his seed into you, painting your walls with his cum. His large body felt heavy on you, almost collapsing from his intense high, and a sheepish grin spread across his face as he avoided eye contact. A disappointed sigh escaped him, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

You, however, couldn't contain a light chuckle. "Freddie, did you just set a record for the fastest goal ever?"

Freddie blushed, a mix of embarrassment and disappointment playing on his features. "Uh, yeah, I guess I got a bit carried away."

You let out another soft chuckle, running your fingers through his hair, as your eyes gazing up at him. "Well, someone's eager tonight. It's cute, really."

But Freddie didn't find it cute at all.

This wasn't the lover he usually was to you. He was your attentive man who always took care of your needs, but tonight he had only cared about himself and given in to desperation.

However, determined to redeem himself, Freddie looked into your eyes with a spark of conviction. "I promise I'll make it up to you, love. Round two is going to be legendary."

"Oh, really?" You raised an eyebrow, feigning scepticism. "I'm counting on you, Andersen."

Both of you took a moment to calm from the recent activity, Freddie resting on his side next to you as he caressed your body. You were incredible to him, and he felt more and more eager to give you what you deserved – the pleasure and rush he had reached himself.

Gently, he found your little pearl of nerves again, slowly circling and stimulating it.

Your lips parted with a small gasp as you locked eyes with him, feeling the pleasure slowly building up in your lower abdomen, your hands finding the sheets on the pillow case behind your head to tuck on. 

"Mmm, Freddie… Please, more."

But Freddie took his time, knowing he had to make sure he got fully hard again before giving you what you needed. Instead, he gently let two long fingers slip into your core again, feeling his own cum as he massaged your walls and pumped his digits.

It almost felt naughty.

Playing with his own ejaculation inside your body, Freddie's eyes intently followed your sweet, squirming facial expressions. Your eyes closed as you relaxed under his touch, and he slowly felt his member fill with blood again.

With renewed enthusiasm, Freddie set out to prove that his skills extended beyond the hockey rink. The room filled again with a mixture of sweat, passion, and the sweet sounds of your moans as he worked tirelessly to ensure your satisfaction. You couldn't help but admire his dedication.

Your orgasm slowly formed, and as Freddie increased the intensity of his finger pumping your heat, curling his fingers at the right angle, he hit your sensitive spot. Your moans became louder, your lungs emptying for air as your breaths felt heavy and incoherent.

"Yes, Freddie… I'm close," you announced, arching your back in anticipation and desperation to reach the climax.

With a few more pumps, amidst the sticky sounds of Freddie’s and your juices, you let out a deep moan and surrendered to the orgasm, letting it course through your body. Your legs trembled as you slowly came out of the rush, your hands' tight grip on the sheets loosened as you again opened your eyes and looked at your man.

"Well, I must say you did pay me back," you flashed him a sweet, lazy smile. However, Freddie wasn't completely satisfied. Sure, he'd made you come. But to him, that wasn't enough. He had to show you that he hadn't lost his touch completely, and you were still in for the rest of the second round.

So, withdrawing his fingers, he flashed you a mischievous smile, and you knew right away that he wasn't done with you.

Instead, he rose from his resting position, knelt between your legs before swiftly turning you over onto your hands and knees, your ass completely exposed to him. This was probably one of Freddie’s favourite positions as it provided him great access, and he could control his force as he liked. And most importantly, you loved it too.

Though it wasn’t particularly romantic, it always felt amazing when Freddie could fill you up completely and pound into you.

And as he once again let himself slip past your folds, stretching your sleek entrance for the second time tonight, moans slipped off your lips. His hips rocked against your ass, allowing him to hit your very end with his throbbing cock, and you knew you wouldn’t last long.

Freddie felt so good, and he had your mind clouding with every thrust. A smile formed on your lips as you tilted your head back, your hair almost like an invitation for him to grab, as you let Freddie pound into you with eager motions. 

Wrapping his large hand underneath, he took hold of your locks and gently pulled them while his other hand rested on your hip, holding it in place as he increased his speed.

If you could see yourself from a different angle, it probably looked like a poorly homemade porno film; with Freddie fucking you in doggy style and you uncontrollably moaning his name.

You felt your second orgasm approach. And as Freddie could feel how your walls clenched around him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back either.

"Yes, baby… come for me," he managed to speak darkly in between deep moans.

And it took nothing more for you to let yourself go again, and the rush took over, blurring your mind as your juices covered his shaft. Your muscles tightened as you arched your back, and Freddie’s name rang from your mouth, which had him feeling his own second release upon peaking.

With a few more forceful pounds, his grip on your hair holding on, he let himself bottom out in you again, deep husky noises coming from deep down as he came.

“Fuck…” Freddie breathed out, letting go of his grip as he stayed in the position to make sure he let every single drop into you, before gently pulling out and watching his cum drip from your core, slowly gliding down your inner thigh.

It was incredibly hot. So much of his white liquids were still in you, and as you dropped your head, trying to regain control of your breath, he observed your beautiful cunt for a few more seconds.

Almost a minute went by before either of you moved from the position and retreated to rest on the messy bed.

As it turned out, in the end, Freddie's determination paid off, and you shared a laugh as you cuddled in the afterglow.

"See," he teased, "I told you round two would be better."

"Well, you definitely made an incredible comeback," you grinned, tracing circles on his chest. 

"Good," Freddie laughed, pulling you closer. "It’s important to me that I make you feel good too, baby – I’m just sorry I haven’t been able to touch you for so long."

Your eyes were intensely locked onto your boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Freddie... I've had my vibrator," you teased with a chuckle, prompting a bewildered expression and laughter from Freddie.

"Hey! It's not funny…" but he knew you were just teasing. Despite how effective a toy could be in bringing you to climax, it was nothing compared to the pleasure Freddie provided – his embrace, his lips, his warmth, and his cock.

He made you feel incredible, and nothing could ever replace that.

"By the way, I thought the doctor told you to go easy with activities?" You raised an eyebrow, earning a light chuckle from the tall redhead beneath you.

"Well, he didn't say anything about these kinds of activities…"

"Baby, I think I meant all sorts of activities," you chuckled lightly.

"Hmm, then I guess it's good that this was me going easy…”