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starsforxavi · 1 day ago

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only for you ⁘ xavier

·······•✦ description: The Prince has a surprise for his secret lover. It's just the carriage ride is also full of surprises

·······•✦ pairing:prince!xavier x lady-in-waiting!reader ·······•✦ word count: 6.5k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Prince!Xavier, Lady-In-Waiting!reader, Established Relationship, Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, carriages, Blindfolds, Sensory Deprivation, Fluff, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Pet names - love / my love, Praise Kink, Come Eating, Dry Humping, Riding, Clothed Sex, Scratching, Body Kissing, Slow Dancing, Cuddling & Snuggling, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Light Angst, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Creampie

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

“I should be attending your mother’s gown fitting, you know…” With your hands clasped in front of you, your eyes flicker around the front yard of the palace. It’s well known that being a lady-in-waiting meant just that, waiting on the hand and foot of whatever royal wishes for it, and it’s been a while since you were brought in to be the Philos Queen’s lady-in-waiting.

“And what my mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Xavier’s eyebrow raises, knowing that people might start looking for you, but being the Prince means Xavier has some persuasive powers. He’s the most popular royal in the kingdom, among commoners and others in the palace, so he’s able to sway people with just his prowess and popularity.

But Xavier’s popularity also meant that he is sought out by the other princesses from other kingdoms. All of them wanted Xavier’s hand in marriage, and as he got older, his parents have become more adamant about setting him up with someone.

It had been a few months of sneaking around with Xavier, the Prince finding you the most stunning woman as well as the most interesting to talk to. You would often go find him in the library or the observatory when his mother - the Queen - would ask you to fetch him. That led to late-night conversations, which then led to a kiss shared under the stars, and then being each other’s firsts.

Time slows down when you’re with him, and a sense of comfort settles in your bones whenever you lie in his bed, staring out the window at the bright moon. It was something you didn’t mean to happen, mainly because you knew that he would never be able to be with you, not officially, and the worry bites at your insides whenever you catch his eye from across the banquet hall.

“What if she finds out?” You ask, your arm brushing his as a carriage stops right in front of you two. It’s beautiful, the ones that a proper royal family would ride in. While your family has more wealth than a commoner, it’s not nearly enough to be considered a princess, nor is it enough to warrant a chance at Xavier’s hand.

His fingers brush along your lower back, feeling the soft silk fabric of the dress he asked you to wear. Its color accentuates your skin tone, and your beauty radiates in the quiet morning.

“Then I’ll take care of it, love.” His term of endearment for you clenches your heart, and you dip your head in a bit of embarrassment and a bit of flustered shyness. When he looks over at you, his eyes trace every feature, and he smiles. “I’m serious… I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“I know. I trust you.” Your whispered voice reaches Xavier’s ears as the door of the carriage swings open. It’s inviting, but you wait for Xavier to walk first, his hand outstretched for you to take.

Once you’re both sitting in the spacious cabin of the carriage, the road is typically bumpy. Still, with Philos’ scientific advances and their contributions to the royal family’s personal endeavors, the ride is surprisingly smooth. However, you’ve ridden with the Queen many times before, so it’s not unknown to you just how nice it could feel as you travel to a surprise destination.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” You point out, looking around at the inside of the carriage to see that there are no guards, knights, or anyone to protect you in case something happens. “How did you manage to go somewhere without an entourage?”

Xavier chuckles, and he slips one hand behind his back. “I told them I will be going to chart the stars… They allow me to go off since they know of my fighting prowess. And,” Shrugging, he pulls out a piece of fabric half the length of your dress, shaking it slightly as he raises an eyebrow. “I have a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Your eyes focus on the strip of silk in his hand, your body heating up at just exactly what he had in mind.

“Well…” Xavier scoots closer, his face inches from yours. “Two surprises.”

Heart-pounding excitement edges into weariness as he cups your cheek. The pad of his thumb traces your cheekbone, and his eyes flicker between yours and your lips. You push away the ache in your chest, allowing him to place a featherlight kiss on your mouth.

“The destination is a surprise.” He says, his breath fanning out across your lips as his warm palm adds to the heat that rises in your body. “This will help keep the surprise until we arrive.”

The fabric comes close, and you see just how solid it is. It’ll be impossible to see through, and your eyes will be rendered useless as you let Xavier lead you to an unknown destination. But the idea of it… It’s intriguing. You trust him, knowing he won’t be leading you to your death or any other unfavorable scenarios, so you nod. He would relent if you genuinely didn’t want the blindfold, but you can’t deny how exciting it is.

Alone with Xavier in a carriage... The forbidden implications of your relationship, the things that would be frowned upon if anyone found out… It all moves to the back of your mind as you turn around, exposing your back to him.

The dress you’re wearing has small sleeves holding it up, but there’s a large window showcasing your chest, the cleavage of your breasts, and the top of your back. Of course, Xavier would recommend this dress for you, and you don’t know where he got it, but it fits you perfectly.

“Where did you get this dress, anyway?” You ask, gasping as his fingers brush along your temples, the darkness shrouding your eyes. He’s silent as he ties a knot at the back of your head, careful not to tangle any of the strands of hair in the silk. It’s tight enough that you know it won’t slip off unless you pull it off, but loose enough that it doesn’t press on the bridge of your nose.

“I had it specially made.” His lips ghost the shell of your ear, hands smoothing down your arms until the tips of his fingers bunch your long skirt up to your thighs. The cool breeze shocks you, and on instinct, you try to look down to see exactly what he’s doing before realizing that you can’t see. “I didn’t know your measurements exactly, but I asked around.”

“You know, asking around about a lady-in-waiting is going to be seen as suspicious?” You mumble, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

“I don’t care.” He whispers, his warm palm soothing the chill of your inner thigh. The slight touch of his digits along your skin raises goosebumps on your arms, and you want to buck up into his hand, taking what you want. Just as you stifle a whimper, you try to turn your head-

Thump!

The carriage jerks to a stop, and you grip Xavier’s knee to prevent yourself from falling.

“What happened?” Fear edges into your voice, and your nails dig into the fabric of his pants in an attempt to ground yourself in the uncertainty around you. It’s silent for a moment, and there’s chattering around the carriage. “Xavier?”

Speaking his name without a title has him shivering, but he fights back the need that has bubbled inside him to stand up and adjust his buttoned shirt. “Stay here, love.” His lips soothe along your hairline, and he makes sure to flip your skirt back down across your legs. “I’ll be right back.”

There are murmurs outside as Xavier steps out, and some bouts of laughter ring out. A crowd has gathered, and you hear something about a replacement coming. Ah, a complication… It soothes you to know that wherever you are, the people seem so keen on helping Xavier out, and it doesn’t seem like anyone has caught a glimpse of you in the carriage. You don’t know how Xavier could explain a blindfolded lady-in-waiting riding solo with him.

But there’s one thing that bites at you.

Your panties have become soaked with your own arousal. It’s slightly embarrassing, but your jaw clenches as you think about Xavier just leaving you hanging like this… The feel of his hand on your inner thigh still lingers, and you’re brought back to a night shared in the privacy of his bedchambers. He has always been skilled with his hands, touching every inch of you like he can’t get enough.

Wiggling your hips, you fight the whine in your throat at just how much you ache for him. You need him… So badly… And in truth, you worry that each time with Xavier will be the last, that perhaps you will get caught and torn away from him, so you want to cherish it all.

So when the door to the carriage opens, you hitch your breath, waiting for any indication of who it is.

“My love…” Xavier’s gentle voice adds the air back to your lungs. “Our carriage got a tilted axle, and the locals offered one of theirs to travel to our destination.” His hand rests on your elbow.

“I-”

As if he were sensing your trepidations, his lips find your cheek. “No one is around us. I’m not just going to lead a blindfolded woman from my carriage.” A breath of a chuckle fans out across your skin. “What will they think of me?”

You roll your eyes behind the blindfold and let him lead you to the next carriage. It’s only a few steps, but the sun in the sky washes over your skin, warming you up from the cool breeze. Not used to wearing dresses like this, your body inches closer to Xavier as he sits you down in the carriage.

It seems more cramped than the other one, but still significant nonetheless.

The real difference starts when the horse at the front sets off. You can feel each and every pebble that the wooden wheels pass over. It isn’t enough to have you flying from your seat, but the cushioned seat beneath you feels harder every time you come up and drop back down on it.

Then, before Xavier can say anything, you get an idea.

Your hand mimics his own on your body, your palm finding his inner thigh after a moment of searching. Every inch of your side is pressed against his, and a sound of Xavier’s hum hits your ear. There is a hint of a smirk in his tone, and he shifts so that his legs are a bit more open.

If anything, he would gladly indulge in your desires. Even if you wanted to tease him. Even if you wanted to be a bit of a brat… There is a pit in his stomach at just how bold you want to be.

“You’re being rather brave, love.” His nose rubs your temple, his lips finding the edge of the blindfold. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“After you teased me before?” You shoot back, tilting your head to allow him better access to your neck. “Yeah… I wanna do this.” The edge of tease in your tone has his cock throbbing in his pants.

“Getting worked up?” Xavier smirks, the muscles flexing as you massage the inside of his thigh. The bumps of the carriage shift your panties against you, and you’re reminded of every time you’ve lain with Xavier. It shakes you, and the thumping in your heart heightens as your hand slowly drifts up and closer to his crotch.

As his question is answered with a nod and a hum, he keeps going. “This new bumpy ride… It’s rocking you, isn’t it, love?” The rough timbre of his voice makes way in the haze of gentle touches. You can’t see where his hands are, but the brush of his bicep makes you think that they’re clutching at his knees for some semblance of control.

“Xavier…”

“That’s it. Say my name, love.” The rustling of fabric pushes the skirt of your dress back up. Once again, the cold nip of air hits your bare leg, and your hand tightens its grip on his thigh.

“Now…” His palm meets the same part of your leg that he was holding earlier, the ghost of his pinkie so close to where you want him. “Where was I earlier?”

His smile turns to a smirk, and his eyes roam your figure. The strength of his arm pulls, hiking your leg up to rest on top of his. The bend of your knee renders you almost helpless, and the only thing you can do is spread yourself for him, his calf keeping your ankle between his legs.

Your palm cups his bulge, and Xavier’s movements stutter for a split second. Out of everything in this world, out of everyone in this world… You’re the only thing that can bring him to his knees.

“No, no, no.” A shake of his head answers blind eyes, and his hand leaves your thigh to grip your wrist. He pulls you away from him; instead, you feel the warmth of your own leg. “Hold yourself open for me.”

A soft kiss sits on your neck, right above your pulse point. His fingers press your hand into your own thigh, and when he speaks again, it’s a breath of air against the wet skin from his lips.

“If you move your hand… I might have to punish you.”

“Punish me as a Prince or as Xavier?” A sudden bump in the road pushes you closer to Xavier, the meat of your thigh resting on top of his as he pauses.

His heart thumps in his chest, and his finger traces the wet slit in your panties. You’re soaked, and your underwear sticks to your pussy as he rubs slow circles into the fabric covering your clit.

“As Xavier.” He mumbles, his voice as sincere as he can. “I’m always just Xavier with you.”

A shaky breath comes as he pushes your panties to the side to see your glistening pretty pussy. The tip of his middle finger dips into your entrance, and there’s a very obvious squelch of your walls that envelop him as he pushes just the first knuckle in, feeling the warm tightness before driving up to find your throbbing clit.

“Good.” Your fingers tighten in the flesh of your thigh, and you bite back a moan as he goes at such a slow pace. It’s torturous, thumping at your heart and threatening to blow you up like a bomb.

“I just want Xavier.” The sentence is laced with sincerity and the underlying need that you’ve always reached out to him with.

It reminds you of the empty halls of the castle, walking behind the Queen, your head bowed and waiting for the next command or ask of you. She’s always been nice to you, yes… But it hangs over your head that you want to walk beside Xavier. The Prince who stands tall beside his parents, ready to take the throne…

“You’ve got me, love.” The curl of his finger presses against your sensitive spot, and he continues to beckon you almost off the edge of the seat. He knows just how to make you whimper, your throat tightening and lips falling open.

“You’ll always have me. I promise.” The promise vibrates your throat, and his index finger enters along with the other. HIs palm drags against your clit, and you want so badly to reach out and crush his wrist, or even grind against his hand, but he keeps his promises.

Hopefully, he would keep that promise.

A wanton moan slips past your lips, but with the bumpy ride and the rocking of the carriage on its axles, the driver can’t hear anything. Each rock that he hits, each turn, and a swift jerk as you get closer and closer to your destination. It rocks his fingers inside you, helping him with the slow pumping of his thrusts.

“Xavier…” Another whimper of his name, and you try to shift your hips, push him deeper as if it’s the only thing in the world you need. “Please.”

“Please, what?” The power he has over you is different from the power he has over others. You will shoot back at him in private, your personality coming to light when it’s just the two of you. And Xavier will bend the knee occasionally, but there’s also the fun of putting you in your place. You’re the only person he will bend the knee to, and it’s enticing.

“Hnnnn,” tilting your head back, your throat catches on a moan, and the rocking of the carriage washes out the rising volume. “You.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, love.” His fingers pick up speed, but his palm remains a constant pressure on your clit, rubbing with each deep curl and thrust of his digits. He knows you like the back of his hand, and each beckon of his fingers sends a rush of heat and electricity through you.

“More.” You gasp, eyes closing even though it was dark to begin with. The warm flesh of your thigh pulses with your heartbeat, and your body responds by clenching around his fingers.

“I know you want more, love.” Xavier chuckles, his other hand resting on the curve of your waist, holding you to his side. “I can tell by how your pretty pussy is clenching me so tightly.”

His words send goosebumps across your body, and more words come after, but you can’t register his voice when the white hot flame inside you bursts. The fire in your stomach ignites and swallows you whole.

“Good girl,” Xavier whispers in your ear, but you can’t hear it with the intensity of your orgasm that seeps into your muscles. With one sense closed, the rest have heightened, and his breath on your ear pulls you back to reality. “Such a good girl for me.”

Slow thrusts pause when you finally come down from your high, the rough breaths you suck in calming into soft gasps when he finally removes his digits. You’re so empty, and you whine until his slick fingers trace your bottom lip.

“Suck.” The command is stern, and you immediately obey by opening your mouth. The taste of your release hits your tongue, and you want so badly to see his expression, the deep lust and desire swimming in his blue eyes…

The light press of his fingers on the pad of your tongue forces a muffled moan, and your lips wrap perfectly around him. Even though you can’t see him, you feel his eyes boring into your face, watching with a smirk as you revel in your taste.

His chest presses against your shoulder, and every breath he takes is reflected in the brush of your bodies. Spit collects in the back of your throat, and you moan around the intrusion. Xavier’s breath hitches when your tongue wraps around his fingers, the warmth of the muscle sending a familiar pool of heat in his abdomen.

Impatience gets the better of you, and against his command, your hand goes back to cupping his throbbing bulge. You’re desperate, standing up just enough to seat yourself in his lap.

Your panties cover you once more, but frantic hands unbutton his pants and push them down enough for his cock to spring free from its constraints. Xavier decides to let you have some fun grinding down on his length, but it’s not enough… Not when the fabric of your undergarments still impedes you from what you really need.

“My love…” He rasps, a deep groan vibrating his chest. One of his hands is in a steel grip on your hip while the other keeps the skirt of your dress up to watch you rut against him like you’re in heat. “You’re so needy.”

It’s not often you can have Xavier like this. The freedom of doing something so lewd in broad daylight makes your body hum. Each jerk of your hips is accompanied by a wanton whine, and Xavier fights back a moan. You sound so beautiful, and he wants you to feel everything to such a degree that you lose yourself to the need.

“Mhm… Yeah…” You pant, your hands holding his shoulders as the only thing grounding you to what’s happening in the present. “Need you.”

“You want more?” He teases, tilting his head while watching the way your neck is exposed to him. “My needy girl.”

All you can do is nod, listening to the deep timbre of his voice and imagining just how he looks. Reddened cheeks, half-lidded eyes, parted lips that moisten with his tongue as he takes you in.

But what makes you gasp is when a rip echoes through the carriage, muffled by a horse's loud whine and the breeze rustling the fields outside. Even in the bumpy ride, his presence stabilizes you. HIs strength rips your panties off your hips, and you can’t actually see where he puts it, but air bites at your glistening pussy.

The throbbing length of his cock nestles between your folds, and you both share a groan at the sudden contact. It’s hot, even in the chilly fall air that comes in through a slightly ajar window.

“Fuck.” The expletive is whispered in the empty space between your mouths, and you share a kiss that is more swallowing of noises and moans than an actual kiss.

Slick coats his cock, and he watches with bated breath as you continue to tease him with the subtle touches to his neck and the slow grind of your pussy. The tip of his length catches on your clit, and you fall forward with your face pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Want more?” He asks, keeping you raised just enough to tease the head of his cock in your hole. The parting of your lips and the noise you made in desperation has him throbbing. Seeing you so vulnerable like this is so arousing, and he smirks at the way your head rocks in an attempt to see something other than complete darkness. “You want my cock, love?”

“Yes… Yes, please.”

“You’ve been teasing me this whole ride.” He counters, purposefully circling his tip around your clit in slow, tortorous circles. “Why should I?”

“Because I want it.” You whimper, your lips finding the skin of his neck. You’ve always been very careful not to leave a mark, knowing what the Queen would say if she saw such an indicator of his illicit activities. “I want you.”

Xavier’s heart pounds, and he guides you to sink down on his cock inch by inch. The stretch is familiar, one you’ve felt multiple times before, and a sigh escapes when you’re fully seated on his lap.

“You feel… so good.” You whisper in his ear, your nose brushing his pulse point.

“Come on, love.” His voice is shaky, and his head falls back to hit the side of the carriage. “Take what you want.”

Being able to indulge in your needs brings Xavier so much pleasure, feeling the soft fabric of the blindfold against his skin and the pulsing of your walls around his cock. God… There’s truly no better feeling.

“Gladly.”

With a breath, your knees sit on the bench of the carriage, arms wrapped around Xavier’s neck and lips brushing the shell of his ear. You sit up just enough so that his cock doesn’t slip from your pulsing entrance and then slam yourself down.

“My- love…” Xavier’s voice is strangled, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you can feel each bend of his knuckles. He wants to be able to watch himself disappear into your heat, but everything is so intense that he can’t think of anything except letting you take what you want for now. For now.

The muted slap of your thighs on his clothed pants dips into your ears. In the cacophony of your moans, the rickety axel of the carriage, and the wet squelching of your pussy around his cock, you don’t even mind that you can’t see him…

Heat pools in Xavier’s abdomen, and from the way your body responds, he can tell you’re also getting there. But then the fun would be over, and he had to admit that the sound of your whimpers and whines is like music to his ears.

“Alright.” It takes everything in him to anchor you on his lap, because while he loves to hear your disappointed whimper, he also enjoys when you take what you want. “That’s enough for now.”

Being a lady-in-waiting, there is almost no time for you to do what you want. Tending to the Queen is your sole purpose, and most of the other staff in the palace don’t bat an eye at you because they’re so afraid of the Queen’s rigid expression and sharp words. She is nice, but when distractions get in the way of you doing your job… Well, she can’t have that.

“Huh?” You pull back just enough to brush your nose on his. “Wha-” your bottom lip juts out in a pout, and Xavier just chuckles. A bump in the road has the carriage rocking, and Xavier lets the natural movement buck his hips up and bury himself deeper inside you.

Trying to move your hips, Xavier makes a noise of disapproval. “No, no.” He mumbles, pecking your cheek. “You’re not in control anymore.”

“But-”

Another noise that stops you in your tracks, and you try to find his lips, but you’re only met with the side of his cheek. The deprivation of not having your sight gets to you, and you whine even louder. Your trepidation about doing this, about getting caught, about it all goes right out the window when you feel his grip tighten even more, and a bite of pleasurable pain nips at your hips.

“You’ve been naughty… So it’s only right that I give you a little punishment.” He hums, and another bump thrusts his hips up. The curve of his cock nestles right against your g-spot, and you whimper at the shock of pleasure that shakes your bones.

“Kiss me.” You plead, frustrated at the fact that he’s letting this carriage determine how he fucks you. “Please.”

Xavier’s lips attach to your neck, and his arm wraps around your middle, holding you firmly pressed against his chest. It seems like he doesn’t hear you, so your fingers card through his hair at the back of his head. Who cares if the locals see him coming from the carriage with mussed hair?

“Mmph, sorry.” He smirks against your skin, nipping at the exposed part of your collarbone before dipping lower to the skin of your upper breast. “I can’t do that.”

“Please?” You try again, and Xavier grunts as he fucks up into you once more. “Ah- pl-ease…”

This time, you can feel the way he shakes his head, the fluff of his bangs brushing against your bare neck. A stuttered moan comes, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth.

It’s a slow, tortuous cycle of the carriage taking a turn or hitting a rock and jostling his cock inside you. All you want to do is pick yourself up and ruin the front of his pants with your combined juices as you ride him into oblivion, but he’s strong. It’s impossible for you to move when he’s holding you so tightly.

So you do the next best thing.

Your walls clamp down around him, and an annoyed moan comes when Xavier nips at your neck. His nose brushes your pulse point, and you feel him throbbing inside you. His restraint is commendable, but not when he’s teasing you into hysteria with the curve of his cock and the subtle and inconsistent bucking of his hips.

“Xavier.” Your tone is one of annoyance, and as Xavier’s arm flexes around your middle, you try your best to sit back. “Kiss me.”

“No.” He replies, his voice low. His breath ghosts the shell of your ear, prompting you to keep going. “And if you keep doing this, I’ll have to resort to other measures.” There’s a pause, and he presses open-mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. “I have multiple pieces of fabric that would look so pretty on those wrists of yours.”

Despite the challenge, you don’t relent.

Your nails scratch at his scalp, and overstimulation bites at your muscles when the carriage picks up speed. It’s fast, and each bump in the road bounces you a little more on his lap.

Over and over and over he bucks up into you, arm holding you tight enough that you can’t move yourself but not to the point that you can’t bounce on his cock. With the blindfold, your sight is so black that you can almost make out the outline of Xavier’s shoulder as he busies himself kissing every bit of your body except the place you really want.

Little streaks of red rise on the back of his neck, the manifestation of your annoyance and your persistent brattiness. The tips of your nails dig into his skin, and he bites back a chuckle, keeping the noise in his throat before he ruins the one relationship that he cherishes more than anything.

It’s not even a relationship, and perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps the pull he feels for you is not enough in this world of titles and nobility. But he’s determined to make it enough, to rewrite the history for everything that follows his confession of unabashed love for you.

“My impatient little brat.” He murmurs affectionately, the palm of his hand soothing your side as another stretch of road causes him to consistently buck up into you.

A grunt that morphs into a whimper turns into teeth on his earlobe. “Only for you.” Your words slither into his brain, curling around and making a home there.

Only for you.

It’s Xavier’s turn to turn to mush, his lips finding the bottom of your chin. You look so beautiful like this. You, who dotes on his mother and caters to her every whim. You, who is so caring with the other palace staff, despite your busy job. You, who steals glances at him during important meetings or during dinner.

You, who finds him in corners and empty rooms just for a quick kiss or hug, because it’s the only thing you both can manage before risking getting caught.

He doesn’t want to sneak around anymore. He doesn’t want to get whisked away to a princess. He wants you.

Xavier tries to speak, but your fluttering pussy pauses his words. “Can my- little brat- be a good girl?” You’re pulsing around him, trying to force him to let you take the reins, but he’s not that nice.

He’s not giving up. You can tell from the breathy whisper and nip at your jawline. The grip he has, both on your physical form and your beating heart, is too tight for you to fight again.

“Please.” You whimper, a bit more desperate. More than just the pleasure, you want him.

“Good girl.” He praises, kissing along your jawline while the ride gets even more bumpy. Xavier knows the route to where he’s commanded the driver, and he also knows that you’re getting closer and closer to the finish line. Both figuratively and literally. “You’re close, love?”

A nod is all you can manage, your body nearly going limp as you allow him to manuver and fuck up into you as he wishes. Well, as the carriage ride wishes. There’s something about letting go willingly that bites at your abdomen and tightens the heated coil that threatens to explode.

All it takes is for his hand to slip under your dress, his warm palm melting your chilled skin until you’re pliant on top of him. His thumb is so close to where you’re connected, and he slowly kneads the flesh there as his pelvis grinds against your clit with each press of your hips together.

Fire engulfs you, and a small spark ignites behind your closed eyelids. Just as the blindfold shrouds your eyes, the feelings inside you shroud every semblance of control you have over your own voice.

His name comes in a cacophony of whimpers, your body involuntarily jerking in his grasp. Now, he holds you steady, grounding you to the present instead of restricting your movements. Each pulse radiates through him, and Xavier has to sit back on the bench and just watch.

The furrow in your brow. The grip of your pussy on his throbbing cock. The appearance of your hands touching every part of him you can manage. Like you’re finding your way around a dark room, you cup his cheek.

Xavier’s peak comes as a surprise because he’s so preoccupied with you. Your noises, the feeling of you around him, even the sight of your lips parted and so inviting to him. He can’t think straight when his cock twitches and empties himself inside you.

“Love…” He whispers, his nose tracing a path across your cheek until he connects your lips in a passionate kiss. As you kiss, he reaches up to undo the tie of the blindfold, sticking the fabric into his pocket.

Xavier swallows your moans, his tongue curling against yours in a knot of desire edged in affection. Everything he does is with a purpose, and he’s only ever regarded you as his one true reason.

In a fateful coincidence, the moment you both relax in each other’s hold, a knock comes on the top of the carriage.

“We are here, Your Highness.” The gruff voice of the driver fills your ears. Like a scared animal, your face presses into his neck, shielding yourself from any potential eyes that peer in.

“Thank you,” Xavier calls, his lips right neck to your ear. “You may take station in the other cabin.”

Cabin?

Before you can ask, light shocks your system when Xavier reaches up to untie the blindfold and tuck it into his pocket. “We’re here.” He whispers against your cheek, his lips pecking quick kisses.

“The driver-”

Xavier leans to the side. “Is going into the other cabin… There is no one else around, I swear.”

So with a disappointed sigh that turns to a whimper, Xavier lifts you from his lap. Even as you try to walk on shaky legs, he shakes his head. “No, no.” In the same tone as before, he tilts his head. “Come here.”

The bridal style carry forces you to bury your face in his chest, a smile curling at your lips. Each beat of his heart is like a metronome to your favorite song. His deep hum rumbles in his chest, and you peek out to see woods, a small cliff, and two large cabins in the middle of nowhere.

The door is opened, revealing a beautifully decorated home and a back door that showcases the most beautiful waterfall. It frames the sky, with fluffy white clouds and a sun that is slowly dipping down. Soon, the stars will be the main character, ready to be gazed upon from the little cliff and bench that sit there.

“Let’s rest before the finale.” He mumbles against your lips, kissing you breathless with just a simple slotting of your mouths. “I have one last surprise for you.”

A weak chuckle comes, but you are too weak from the physical exertion to fight back. “Okay…” You whisper, letting him set you down in the bed. Still without underwear, you shiver at the air that rushes over your messy pussy, dripping of Xavier’s release and still throbbing from the aftermath.

“I’ll wake you up later, love.” His lips find your forehead, and Xavier finishes up the last of his preparations, running a warm cloth down there to clean you up enough so you can sleep peacefully before joining you in a quick nap. Arms encircle your waist, and his face settles in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, Xavier can imagine this as his future…

When you awake, you’re met with a trail of flower petals on the ground. It’s a winding road around the bed, through the living room, and leading to the glass back door.

You fight back a smile at the sight, and instead open it as quietly as you can. “All this for me?” The statement surprises Xavier for a moment, his heart stuttering just as his mind does when he turns to see you.

The lights of the lanterns dance across your face, like a million spotlights searching for his favorite feature of yours. Except they illuminate every part of you.

“Only for you.” He mimics your earlier words, reaching out a hand to bring you close. As soon as your hand meets his, he’s pulling you into his chest, and with no panties, disheveled hair, and tired eyes, Xavier sways you in a dance without music.

You’ve never danced at a ball before, and countless times you’ve endured the sight of Xavier dancing with princesses one after the other. Surely, his parents were trying to find the most suitable wife, from the whispers you were privy to, but it didn’t make it any less painful.

“My love.” His eyes meet yours, the hand on your hip curling to your lower back. “I’ve brought you here with a confession.”

Immediately, the worst-case scenarios slink their way into your brain. He’s marrying someone else… He’s moving away… Someone found out about you two…

As if sensing your worries, he shuts up the thoughts with a palm cupping your cheek. Both of your hands anchor on his shoulders, allowing him to continue the slow swaying on this cliff. It feels like the final dance before you both jump, and you hold your breath for his words.

“I cannot live in a world where we must hide ourselves away.” Xavier’s throat catches, the subtle intimacy of the whisper fanning out across your face. “I love you… Wholly and irrevocably…”

“Xavier-”

“I wish to tell my parents about us.” The confession presses pause on the dance, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Before you can say no, he continues. “I wish to court you properly. To dance with you at the balls. To take you on walks in the square.” His heart is beating so wildly that he thinks you can hear it.

“To marry you.”

The ring, given to him by his mother for the woman he wishes to spend forever with, is waiting for a recipient back at the palace. He’s relented to his parents' wishes for too long, and all he wants is freedom—freedom you give him.

Instead of an answer, you kiss him.

Your lips tangle in a slow dance that is more of an answer than he needs. The fact that you didn’t push him away, that instead you melt into his embrace, means more than simple words.

Xavier holds you close, the promise of forever lingering on his tongue as it traces your bottom lip.

The lanterns he lit mix with the stars, gazing down at the sight of two lovers in an intimate silence, waiting for day to break and reality to catch up with them.

The future can wait. Right now, all you need is Xavier. Only him.

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teacupsandcyanide · 3 days ago

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I hope you don’t mind me adding on how thoroughly I agree. I think by that point in his run Moffat had truly worked out that bigger stakes didn’t necessarily mean better, and dialling things back in s10 actually makes the finale feel even more impactful. We got to really luxuriate in the arcs of that season, it wasn’t just quiet, it was moderately paced. It seemed to trust the power of its own screenwriting and its actors to maintain audience attention and it had faith in the stories it was telling.

Having taken it apart for the fic I’m currently working on, I’ve been struck by just how solid and consistent the themes are throughout. Often DW relied on key words to convey a continuing arc, and there were arc words in this season, but the central themes that became crucial to the finale are woven into every story, and they tangle into each other so beautifully. There’s the theme of morality, what is true altruistic goodness, the motif of time passing slowly and waiting, uncertainty which links with questions and blindness. Bill’s ten year wait and Missy’s worthwhile death are foreshadowed as early as Oxygen. It’s an incredibly rich vein to draw on for fic-writing and I keep finding more parallels and more foreshadowing and more little details as I go on.

But yes, the setting and the pacing are what I would call humble, at times unassuming, which 1) is very fitting for the season partially preoccupied with how the passage of time can change a person, 2) fitting for where the Twelfth Doctor was at that stage of his character development. It would have been very easy for them to walk back all his character development with the handwave that forgetting Clara and losing River made him regress to his Deep Breath self, and I think many other writers would have opted for that and had Bill smooth out his edges again. Instead they were allowed to have a completely different relationship and the Doctor was allowed to keep development.

It also means that when you get to that finale and all hell breaks loose, it really does feel like a normal day that went horribly wrong. There’s something realistic about it, it feels crueler because it wasn’t built up in some huge overarching way, it was just one mistake that kicked off a domino effect the characters couldn’t extricate themselves from. The Doctor isn’t fatally injured in some huge universe-saving thing, he’s just trying to save one group of children and their guardians. He can’t save his companion and Bill has to save herself/be saved by a connection that she made independent of him. I also actually like that this is a rare example where the Doctor lets his companion have full autonomy over what she wants to do about her own fate, even if it means she chooses death - he seems to have learned from past mistakes in this regard and it follows the through line of him making efforts to act against his own nature and emphasise Bill’s agency throughout the season rather than blanket impose his will and law.

I love season 10 of new who because it’s so… quiet. The setting of the season is the university, which makes everything feel grounded; the Doctor even has a “home” outside of the Tardis (his office). Outside of the Vault, which is a mystery that’s solved midway through the season, there’s no big problem or enemy that hangs over the heads of the characters. Missy would maybe function as that, but instead she becomes a part of the core cast, and her character is given time to be fleshed out. And this was the end of Moffat’s run; he’d established so much lore that he could have easily put in a big overarching narrative about the silence or the daleks or what have you, but he didn’t.

I really miss the grounded energy that this series had, especially compared to the most recent series of RTD2, where seemingly every problem is universe-threatening and there are 50 billion characters that are packed into eight episodes. I think that if the series were to have another season like 10, it would improve the show greatly.

#doctor who #bill potts #12

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55sturn · 2 days ago

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chapter 0.01: feels like we’re meeting for the first time | series masterlist

summary: in which you receive some not so good news about your roommate situation upon preparing for your last year of university. however your mom thinks there’s a silver lining hidden beneath it when you see who you’re living with for the year.

pairings: ex boyfriend!chris sturniolo x ex girlfriend!reader [ eventually ] and oc boyfriend x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst. that’s about it.

word count: 2.8k

dedications: thank you to @strnilolover, @endereies, @bernardsbendystraws, and @luvs4matt for proofing this.

dividers: @strnilolover as always.

finishing your university degree in journalism has been your dream since you were sixteen and you just successfully published a thorough review blog of every movie that released that year.

completing your degree was the first time that you truly believed you were capable of doing something right. of potentially making a name for yourself. you felt like you had actually succeeded in life. realizing this was like feeling something close to utter bliss for the first time.

you’ve always felt a very strong passion for studying movies and writing about them, including your opinions and thoughts while also remaining unbiased, allowing your followers and readers to form their own thoughts. during your senior year, you had been received early acceptance into your first choice school and you couldn’t be happier.

when you first walked into the university, you were at a loss for words. you had finally started the path you had always dreamed of taking, but you were alone, and it scared you. your mom had been so willing to walk you to your first class, and you about two seconds from letting her. but you knew this was a step you had to take on your own. for the first time in eighteen years, you were truly doing things by yourself.

your mom had been by your side from the moment she had you at seventeen and your dad walked out of the delivery room. she would’ve moved into your dorm if you had let her, and if it wasn’t technically a crime, both literally and socially.

and as you maneuvered your way through the seemingly endless and winding halls of university, you bumped into someone. as you were about to start spewing nervously apologetic ramblings, you looked up to see who you had collided with, only to meet the prettiest eyes you had ever seen. he was quick to take the blame, saying he was too focused on trying to remember where he was supposed to go while your words died in your throat.

he asked you where you meant to go, teasing you about how looked like a lost puppy, and after showing him your schedule, he walked you to the room you had passed by twice already, he smiled and told you his name before realizing how late he was, before turning around and walking away without getting your name.

there was something about him that drew you in, despite him looking like a walking advertisement for the school’s fraternity. however after a few more run-ins, he finally asked for your name and number, and promised to make good use of it.

you and chris had gotten together shortly before spring break after spending months of tiptoeing the line of friends and something more. while getting to know each other, you found out you were both from boston, only about an hour drive from one another, and you were pleasantly surprised to find out that he was actually quite a kind and gentle person, nothing like his frat brothers for the most part. sure there were times that he was a bit of an asshole during the talking stage of your relationship, but after a serious conversation, you had learned that he wasn’t good with letting people in at first. you learned how deeply it scared him.

out of everyone in your family that met chris, your mom was the most skeptical of him at first. partly due to her annoyingly unwavering habit of judging people based off their appearance and the way they present themselves, and partly because she wasn’t ready to let go of you completely. but with the way chris looked like the poster child for every stereotype you could think of when looking at a frat boy, your mom was scared you were going to get hurt. but within a week of meeting him, she trusted him to take care of you, her baby, her pride and joy, and she knew how deeply he loved you. and so, she gave him her blessing.

and over time, you were able to help chris unlearn every negative or toxic belief he had about relationships. when he was with you, he learned that love didn’t need to be a game, and you learned that love was so much more than an obligation. you taught each other something so precious and gentle, something that many couples took years to find and learn. you were stable and healthy and utterly in love with one another. that’s why it shocked everyone around when the two of you broke up after four years together.

there was no big dramatic moment where it all came crumbling down, no fight that was blown out of proportion. it was a soft conversation hidden in the back of a cafe on a sunny mid-winter day, the two of you had gotten so busy, his hockey practices and games had started to really pick up, and he so was focused on being scouted, and your journalism course had landed you an internship with a media company and you were out running interviews and exposes day and night. the two of you felt like you didn’t have time for one another anymore, and it crushed both of you, but you decided that taking a break, breaking up, splitting, however you wanna spin it, was for the best.

when you returned home at the end of the year, you were ninety percent sure your mom was more heartbroken over the break up than you were. of course you were devastated, but you knew it had to happen for the time being. you loved chris with everything in you, and you were quite certain that you always would, but the two of you were growing in separate directions, which meant you had to love him from afar.

as you get ready to leave for your last year of university, you’re now twenty four, you just completed your bachelor’s degree in media journalism, and now you were finishing your last year of your film and media degree. as you start packing up for the last time, it hits you that you’re going on your sixth year of schooling, and it’s an exciting realization that’s been tainted by something melancholic and nostalgically heartbreaking. you’ve spent so much your time away at school, it’s become your second home.

you were counting on getting either a single dorm-room or a shared one with one roommate, or even at the very least shared dorm housing with a group of girls. but as you read the email about your housing situation, it dawns on you that that you completely let the deadline for securing a single dorm slip your mind.

sure, when applying for dorming, you clicked co-ed at the very last second because there was no way you afford to rent an apartment while also paying tuition. but even as you clicked send after choosing co-ed as your last option, you had been a little too confident in thinking that you’d never get placed in one.

you tried to barter with the lady who was head of dorm admissions, hoping to someway, somehow land a non-co-ed dorm, but as she reprimanded you, you could tell she was exhausted after having dealt with enough entitled brats throwing money around to get the dorm they want, and with that, she sent you your dorm number and ended the conversation. you let out a loud grunt of annoyance, making your mom chuckle as she steps into your room.

“what’s got you all pissed off?” she hums, not so sneakily sifting through your clothes, hoping to find something she can claim as your own.

“i got stuck in a lame ass co-ed dorm this year, which is whatever in itself, but i don’t wanna be cooped up with some weirdo gamer nerd that doesn’t know how to speak to people. and maybe that’s pretentious of me, but i want my last roommate to be a good one.” you grumble, venting away your frustrations while snatching the red halted top you had just bought yourself out of your mom’s hands, side-eying her as she pouts.

“well i don’t know but i think you should try to find the positive in it all. there are a lot of people who go to your university, you could make a new friend or maybe your roommate will be an old face that you haven’t seen in a while, maybe a certain ex-boyfriend of yours?” she laughs and teases, making the hair on the back of your neck stand tall at the idea of rooming with chris.

“yeah no, if that happens i’m moving in with aidan, you know, my boyfriend of six months.” you sneer, tired of your mom constantly pushing for you and chris to somehow reconnect, despite the fact that you haven’t talked in almost two years. with a heavy sigh, you turn to completely face your mother, a frown tugging at your lips,

“i know you loved and adored chris, i still love him and i always will but we broke up for a reason, mom. things weren’t working and we were way too busy to focus on our relationship. and we haven’t seen each other since the break up, i think that’s a pretty good sign that we’re not meant to reconnect. i’m with aidan, and he makes me happy. sure he’s nothing like chris and he’s a lot like dad and the life you didn’t want to be apart of, but he’s good to me. he’s kind and caring and insanely smart, give him a chance? please.” you speak, your voice trembling but certain with every mention of chris and what you felt for him.

“are you trying to convince me to give aidan a chance, or yourself? because you don’t seem so sure about him, but you seem quite sure of your feelings for chris.” your mom fires back, her response only further upsetting you as you push by her, needing some room to breathe.

for a while you wander around your neighbourhood, taking every back alley and hidden path, hoping to clear the bad mood and anxious thoughts from your mind, but your walk is interrupted by your phone going off, you begrudgingly assume it’s a text from your mom or aidan, but a part, a tiny part of you that’s locked away in the depths of your mind silently, secretly, and oh so desperately hopes it’s chris, but the rational part of you knows it’s not. and every time you find yourself wishing he’d reach out, the guilt is immediate. it’s raw and violent and it tears you apart from the inside out.

you really do like aidan and you enjoy being with him, but chris was the first guy that you ever genuinely loved, he was your first true relationship. he wasn’t just some confusing situationship that left you awake in bed and wondering why every night. he made you feel safe, secure, and loved every second he could. aidan was good to you, he was kind and funny, but it was all still so new. and you felt like things were rushed with him at times.

he came from a wealthy family that was all about settling down as young as they could and with aidan being the youngest of his four siblings he felt as though he was behind compared to them. so in an attempt to meet their standards, he was pushing for something serious and long lasting with you, despite only having started dating you less than a year ago. you wanted to stay with him, but at times you weren’t sure if the relationship was really meant for you.

with a dejected sigh, you pulled out your phone to see that your friends from university had texted their dorm room numbers in the groupchat, and you found that you were all in the same building, mainly different floors but close to one another nonetheless.

you replied with your dorm number “245 B” and you were met with various replies, a few of them mentioning chris and how they heard from matt that he was in the same building, which made you nervous, sad, and sort of excited. but you brushed it off, deciding to text aidan, knowing he was coming back from his weekly golfing trip with his family within the hour, asking if he wanted to go for dinner tonight.

you were to brush off your mom as you returned home, not wanting to face another conversation about whether it should be chris or aidan. climbing the steps to your room, you rummaged through your boxes, wanting to find the exact dress you knew aidan liked, groaning when you realize that you left it with tessa after you met up with her in somerville. you may have worn in hopes that you’d run into chris, but thanks to whatever bullshit karmic injustice was planted on you, you didn’t see him.

but as you start searching through more boxes, trying to find a specific outfit that would be suitable for the date, you decided that you were going to focus on aidan and that you were going to move on from chris completely.

as the last few weeks of your summer break went by, despite your decision to focus on your current relationship, you found yourself more and more wrapped up in your head, wondering if you and aidan truly had what it takes to make it together. you wanted to make it work, partly to prove that you were capable of loving someone other than chris, which made you feel guilty that you were using your new relationship as some sort of selfish method to prove something to your ex, but also partly because there truly was something about aidan that had you hooked, and you didn’t want to give up before the honeymoon phase was over.

you knew you had some things to sort out within yourself, you had a lot issues with overthinking and the lack of closure when it came to your relationship with chris didn’t make the constant onslaught of overwhelming thoughts any easier. you considered reaching out to chris to figure out how to get that closure that you both deserved so, so many times but you didn’t know how to do that without putting yourself in a compromising situation.

aidan, as sweet and patient as he could be, also felt a bit wary about chris in general. aidan understood there was some lingering feelings and issues, and it worried him, however he genuinely trusted you. which made you terrified to let him down, to betray the faith he holds so highly in you.

the drive back to school was nothing short of easy. mind numbingly easy. you had done it a thousand times over at point, and you could probably make it with your eyes closed, safety and danger hazards aside. pulling up to the university for the last time felt bittersweet, you were excited to finish this chapter and start the next one at the end of the school year, but you found yourself in this building, you learned so much about yourself and the world around you, you met so many people that you weren’t ready to say goodbye to.

and you know you’re getting ahead of yourself as you think about the end of your time here, but you can’t help it. when a person spends so much of their time in one place, there’s a certain fondness and nostalgia that makes it hard to think about leaving.

with a nervous huff of breath, you grab a duffel bag and head to the admissions office to grab your dorm key and name plate to stick on the door. while you’re there, you make a point to apologize to the lady for coming off as a pretentious asshole earlier in the summer when you received your email, letting her know that you didn’t mean to act that way, you were just nervous about getting a roommate you don’t know. she smiled warmly and accepted the apology and sent you on your way.

you walk to your dorm was full of numerous busy hallways crowded emotional moms sending their children off for the first time, exasperated dads carrying heavy boxes and rolling their eyes at their wives, and embarrassed young adults, but you couldn’t help yourself as you laugh under your breath at the sight of it all.

before you knew it, you were standing in front of your dorm. the door was slightly ajar, which could really only mean that your roommate was already here. with a few quick deep breaths, you push it open and call out into the relatively empty space, a slightly familiar scent and smoke, expensive cologne, and something sugary catching you off guard when you start to look around.

but as you turn to face the sound of footsteps, you’re stuck looking into the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, the same ones you fell in love with at eighteen, and your breath catches in your throat as he looks at you, really looks at you.

“holy shit, y/n-“ he rasps, his voice trembling with shock and something indiscernible underneath, “why are you here?”

“i think i’m your roommate, chris.”

STARS CORNER not the mom predicting the future what???

thank you to @strnilolover for helping out the time i was writing this + thank u for making my dividers as always, i love u :(

#i miss you come here #ex!chris #ex!reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo

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feelfreetopleasemexo · 3 days ago

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Quick little Drabble for you

“Okay okay, what about Katsuki, Eijiro and Deku.”

“Oh fuck okay, thats a hard one…” you stared up at the pretty fairy lights that laced minas bedroom ceiling as you took another hit on the shared joint. “Okay, obvious fuck kats, hed be so mean about it but you just know hed snuggle the shit out of you afterwards….i don’t wanna kill either of those best boys though, can I just marry them both?”

Mina giggled as she reached for the joint, kicking her feet behind her as she shook her head.

“Gotta kill off one of those bad boys im afraid. Rules of the game.”

“Fuck okay, I’d kill Deku cause hed probably find away to come back somehow, and then marry Kiri. Hes husband material in any universe.”

The laughter that erupted from Mina almost shook the bed, causing her to nearly choke on the smoke she had just exhaled. Spending the weekend smoking weed and chatting absolute shit with your best friend was as close to heaven as you could possibly get, every fibre of your being was certain of it.

“Okay, my turn… sero, aoyama and mineta.”

“Easy, fuck sero, marry aoyama and burn every fucking atom in Minetas body. Hes such a perv it’s so gross…. How about, denki, monoma and….shinso?”

She peered at you from the corner of her eye as she quietly mentioned Shinsos name, knowing full well how deeply you had a crush on the purple haired maniac that you called your other best friend. You snapped your head to her and stared at her, faking annoyance at the mention of his name as your smirk defied your eyes.

“Fuck you.” Both your laughter erupted again, Mina pushing your arm as she sat up and began to roll another joint.

“Not one of the names im afraid, go on, enlighten me.” She smirked at you as she pulled out the grinder, twisting it gently in her hands.

“Fine. I’d fuck Denki, hed definitely spark you when he got inside, I’d kill monoma and I, guess id marry Shinso. You’re a dick Yano that?”

“When’re you gonna grow some balls and tell him? I can’t believe he’s not noticed it yet but…”

“Im not THAT obvious, plus he is a guy so.”

“Last week you both gasped over the same stray cat outside and looked like you were an old married couple, cmon now….you gotta tell him, or I will.”

“If you tell him, I’ll tell Kiri about the wet dream you had about him yesterday…”

Both your eyes stared at each other, smirks at a stand off as your eyes creased from the growing smiles. Neither of you would dare hurt the other with your confessions, but this didnt stop the information from coming out.

Denki had heard the laughter coming from behind minas dorm room door, so as he approached to ask if he could join the smoking sesh, he heard the confessions of feelings between the both of you. His eyes widened at the words, not only had he heard that a girl wanted to fuck him, but said girl had a crush on one of his friends, and the other had a sex dream about another friend too. There wasnt a force on earth that couldve stopped him from running into the communal kitchen where both said friends were chatting, only to almost trip over his own feet and face planting the doorframe.

“GUYS GUYS GUYS! Y/N fancies you Shinso, and Mina had a wet dream about you Kirishima!”

Both guys looked at each other stunned, then back at Denki as he stood up straight, his smile beaming and his hands on his hips.

“Nice one sparky, as if we’d believe that.” Shinso replied, trying to hide his confusion and fluster behind his usual stoic expression.

“Yeah man, how would you even know all of that? I know you’re close with the girls but, that means they also know you have a big mouth…”

“Look, come with me! They’re chatting shit in minas room….lets see if they say they wanna have an orgy or something!”

Both guys rolled their eyes, denki might’ve been their best friend, but he sure didnt know how to hide his perverted side most of the time.

As denki paraded the boys towards Mina room, he kicked open the door and proudly exclaimed, with his hands still firmly planted on his hips.

“SO! Since everyone fancies everyone here, we having a 5 sum or what’s going on?”

Every single person stared at him, and if looks could kill, hed of been dead long ago.

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yeonmuse · 1 day ago

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CHROME HEARTS ──but I break them still

❪ CHROME HEARTS ❫ nishimura riki & fem!rea 1.8k w.c ⋆♱✮ fluff/angst ༯ university au ꫂ ၴႅၴ synopsis──★˙nainais library !! @k-films

℘an᭪ : written w tweets at the end of the chapter, (perm list still open, but only 3 slots open for this series taglist)

an: chrome hearts is nearing its end chat how we feeling?

CHAPTER 20 | the sun, her moon, and her stars

A week, a week had gone by since everything had transpired between you and Mako and you were having a hard time. You’d shut yourself in your room and you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone you just couldn’t bring yourself to face anyone. Niki hadn’t texted no matter how many apologies or check ins you’d sent after your talk with him and you couldn’t blame him knowing you accused him of being ingenuine. You let out a hearty sigh as you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling and a knock at your door steals your gaze.

“Jongseob I already told you I don’t want to come out.’’

“It’s me..’’ your body stiffened upon hearing the voice at the other side of the door, the two of you hadn’t spoken since the day everything had gone down and you weren’t sure where things would lead after finding out everything you had. But now there she stood on the other side of the door and you felt this dreadful cloud looming over you. It did hurt, not talking to her, not running to tell her and the groupchat everything over the course of that week, but you had every right to be upset with her.

“What are you doing here..’’ you respond, hearing the sound of shuffling on the other side.

“Yn i just want to talk…you’ve ignored my texts, you left the groupchat and you haven’t been showing up to classes, i wanted to give your space but I…I can’t not for this long.’’

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you lied to me instead of just telling me the truth.’’

“Yn please..please just open the door and let me explain everything.’’ you could hear the hurt in her voice, it made your chest tighten, but you still weren’t sure if you were ready to face her.

“Yn i swear to god if you don’t open this door and talk to her i’ll take it off its hinges again.’’ Jongseob yells on the other side, making you snear at him from the other side of the door as you move to open it.

This was the first time you had been seeing her since that day and it seemed like the both of you had been in the same boat, dark circles and bags under both your eyes, tired expressions worn on each of your faces as if neither of you had slept a wink. You didn’t say a word to her, just walked further back into the room and left the door open for her to enter. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her but you could hear the sound of the door shutting behind her then a sharp inhale.

“I know that you’re still mad, you have every right to be but I want you to know I truly never meant to hurt you. I was wrong I know but I’ve never.. I've never been in love with someone so close to me before and I got territorial I- I forgot that above all you were my best friend. I let the fact that I was in love blind me and it turned me jealous in the worst way. I never..I never thought that you’d start liking him, I thought that this was something that would pass, but then you started hanging out with him and bringing him around the others, your tweets about being closer to him scared me and I didn't want you to be taken away. Then everyone started joking about you liking him and I just.” This was the first time you’d seen her this vulnerable since high school, the first time you’d seen her cry since the day she came running to your house when her parents divorced.

“I’m sorry yn I’m really sorry, i even chased him down to apologize, if i could take it back i would I was being immature.” You couldn’t stop the tears falling from your own eyes, your best friend was in front of you crying her eyes out and it was hard to see.

“You dumbass, you could have just told me how you felt.” You scold her in between tears, both of you a complete mess as you stood there crying.

“I.. didn’t….want..to..scare….you…off.” She responds, a hiccup and sniffle between each word. You were sure you both looked ridiculous right now, trying to talk while you both were in between tears.

“You’re so stupid you could never scare me off. I’ve always known who you are and I may not love you in that way but you’re my best friend, I'll always be your best friend no matter what you tell me.” You respond by wiping your tears and hers.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you.” You respond to her, lips poked out into a pout, eyes getting watery all over again.

“Are you guys done crying, can we come in now.” You could hear from the other side of the door

“Aya shut up they’re not supposed to know we’re listening.” You could hear Melody say from the other side as well. You and Mako both share a glance before bursting into a fit of laughter, wrapping your arms around each other as if you missed the comfort.

“Okay we’re coming in.” Chloe spoke softly on the other side before pushing the door open.

“I called them over, everyone’s been worried about you.” Jongseob says as they all step inside and you mouth a thank you to him before wiping your face.

“Hi my angel, how are you feeling?” Chloes the first to envelope you in her arms, followed by the others that flooded in one by one all wrapping you in their arms like they hadn’t seen you in months.

“Better now.. I’ve missed all of you.” You respond with a smile, taking a seat at your usual spot near the window where all of you would usually gather.

“And Niki..?” The room seemed to still at the mention of his name. You still hadn’t heard from him and it was bothering you, maybe that was your fault for not going to classes, maybe then you could see him in person, but you couldn’t fully blame yourself. You shake your head no, and it was enough for them to understand, no words needed to be exchanged.

“I’m sorry baby, I know you were really starting to like him even if you didn’t want to admit it to us I think we could all see it.” Chloe apologizes, reassuringly rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, I can’t blame him if he wouldn’t want to talk to me again after the way I broke down and accused him. I still have the one thing that matters most. I’m sorry for shutting you guys out and leaving, I just. I needed time alone.”

“We understand, but next time just give us a heads up? We were worried sick, Melody even cried.” At Hunter's revelation Melody's head snaps in his direction.

“I did not cry!?”

“You did, you got snot all over Jongseobs shirt.” Aya expose, you couldn’t help but laugh. You felt so reassured in that moment, nothing else mattered now that you had them with you, you weren’t thinking of niki or what would happen between the two of you when you finally did return to campus, you just stayed content in your momentary happiness. You were so caught up in Niki, the man that to you was like the moon that you had completely forgotten about these moments, the ones that lit up your way before you’d even known him. They were your stars.

CHAPTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

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grapehyasynth · 3 days ago

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💑established relationship💑 fic recs!

i’m still reading through the wilmon tag on ao3, but i’d like to share some recs in very arbitrary categories. i’m not going to re-rec anything i’ve recced before, so this is really only from within my last seven months of reading. more lists to come!

as much as i love watching these two fall in love in every universe, and boy howdy do i, sometimes it's nice to revel in what it can be like when they're already together, when there's no will-they-won't-they, when it's about what comes after the 'i like you'. these fics feature wilmon in established relationships.

a lot of these ended up being smutty, even though i have a separate smut rec list in progress 🤷🤷🤷

Find a brand new way of seeing (Your eyes forever glued to mine) by @skibasyndrome - He hopes he’s being good for Simon, hopes he is looking pretty with the black silk tied around his head.

Sundays by @grounded-parasocial - Wilhelm is obsessed with Simon’s ass while he does Sunday chores in his underwear.

stay with me by @vvachillessongvv - Simon is needy and knows how to keep Wille with him even when he's not there

Infiltration by @gulliblelemon - Simon and Wille stumble onto Erik and Rosh and there's some explaining that needs to be done.

Now we're falling like snow by @skibasyndrome - The first heavy snow of the season - what a great opportunity for a slow morning and keeping each other warm

You Pour And I'll Say by @phneltwrites - Simon shows the club that Wilhelm is definitively taken.

let me, i'd be by @enjoythesilentworld - “Tell me,” Simon said musingly, nimble fingers working deftly at the tie still around Wilhelm’s throat, “was it you who didn’t want me there tonight, or them? Or was it, perhaps, Kronprinsen who didn’t want me there?”

winter break by malinkaaa - Wilhelm stared at his phone screen, reading and re-reading the same message for what felt like the hundredth time. "Coming to Stockholm for winter break. Miss you." Simple words from Simon that made his heart race and his palms sweat like he was still that same nervous first-year at Hillerska.

#yr fic rec #fic rec #young royals

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diabolicalevil · 2 days ago

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Sanguinius, Fulgrim and Magnus relationship headcanons

gn!reader

was originally an ask but I lost it anon im so sorry T^T. I might follow up w the primarchs some time. my knowledge of Magnus is very limited so bear with me. nsfw at the end

Warnings: NSFW at end, magnus has slight dubcon stalker headcanons

Sanguinius

Adores small things and quiet signs of devotion. Things he didn't really need to do but does without thinking because he loves you.

A romantic at heart. Leaves love letters for you, jewellery made with his feathers, so so many flowers. Sanguinius already had a garden, mainly to sit and seethe, but it's expanded rapidly to accommodate the sheer number of bouquets he gifts you. Each unique, each planned by him, and many with extremely rare flowers.

If you're against public gestures he'll refrain but really he wants his whole leigon involved with caring for you. Not just for protection and being delivery boys for his little gifts. You stand at his side as he rouses his troops, every Blood Angel is commanded to treat you as they would him, you are the other half to his soul and Emperor help whoever disrespects you.

In private he enjoys wrapping a wing around you. Does it publicly too, mainly if you're standing too far. But when you're alone he just wishes to cradle you. Sanguinius does appreciate that you care enough to worry you'll hurt his wings but he wants nothing more than for you to lean on them and fall asleep.

Doesn't wear his hair braided but he simply adores having you sit and braid it for him while he works.

You Are A Lap Cat Now, Enjoy! Your weight is basically nothing to him but it's enough that having you rested in his lap is very grounding. He'll lean down to kiss you, let his hair fall around you and cover your back with his wings as he cocoons you from all the horror the world has to offer.

Fulgrim

Fulgrim's lust for perfection could never stop at himself or his legion. Say what you will about dating him, you'll never ever look scuffy or slovenly again. not for lack of trying or wanting to, but because Fulgrim has banished anything that might make you appear anything less than ethereal to the shadow realm.

He loves openly and makes it difficult to ignore. While Sangunius is happy to tone it down Fulgrim would be hard pressed to go a day without picking you up and twirling you in the middle of the hallway.

Big fan of perfumes, he is. Perfumed letters, signature scents etc. Frequently gets you perfumes in a never ending quest to find the one that he thinks perfectly encapsulates your beauty and charm.

Never a dull moment really, before he is your lover he is your best friend and a gossip. Second to the Alpha Legion's information gathering is Fulgrim's nosey ass.

Magnus

His methods of affection are sometimes dubiously consensual. It's all very reliant on him allegedly knowing what's best for you.

With that being said, noticing that you're stressed and invading your mind to clear it is technically an affectionate gesture that at least comes from a place of love.

Enjoys a little bit of puzzles with his romance unfortunately. His library is a maze and he is endlessly happy that you are willing to take the risk of getting lost in it to come find him

and loves QUIZZES if u haven't read the books he's recommended he'll know. like psychically but also has a pop quiz prepared for every book in the universe it seems.

Carries you around like a doll. Mainly for convenience sake, he is gigantic, but it's almost another way of imparting knowledge on to you. Giving you, quite literally, a whole new perspective on the world.

Often watches you from afar, maybe in a creepy way and often without you knowing but he's just fascinated. For once to him it's far more interesting to observe real human behaviours than read about it in a book.

NSFW

Sanguinius

Sex crier. Sorry. Quietly and into the crook of your neck as he finishes but the pearl sized tears are unmistakable. Tells you he's just overwhelmed with joy as you wipe his tears. But mostly, it's mourning that he'll have to part with you afterwards.

A begger too. pathetic loser boy. Sanguinius lays between your legs, kissing up your thighs and begging to be allowed to go down on you.

And when he does? Could go for hours, only stops if you've had enough or are simply begging for him to be inside you.

Surprisingly into hair play. While holding his hair out of his face you accidentally yanked too hard and you could've sworn he almost finished then and there.

Fulgrim

Not a virgin, of course, but tries to keep it mostly on the down low. He doesn't want you to become uncomfortable with your experience gap. If you yourself are a virgin he makes little comment on it, and he'd certainly never mock it.

A highly responsible freak. Very receptive to any requests of kink or bondage but he always puts an emphasis on the safe of safe, sane and consensual.

Very upset that he heals too fast to openly wear bondage marks or hickeys, so he gives you extra. "You'll wear it for me, won't you?" He coos as he fastens you against the bed in purple rope. "You'll wear them beautifully in my place."

Despite all this he loves tender, sensual sex. Candles, rose petals, silk sheets, the works. Every now and then when you both need to decompress you'll tangle together in bed, with and worrying about nothing but each other.

He has the vibe of a scandalous victorian courtesan exchanging letters with her lover. Portraits he painted of himself amd in various states of undress and erotic letters he gifts when his schedule is unkind to him.

Magnus

Mindfuck sex. Feedback loops, showing you exactly what he sees and hears, interchanging your current memories with previous ones. He just likes the way you look when you're overstimulated and confused.

Far more into giving than receiving. Cradles you in his lap and pleasures you with his hands. Or he'll manually bounce you on his cock if you beg nicely.

Not a fan of undergarments or lingerie. Even if you're about to have an hour of foreplay, he needs to see you fully stripped down. Every part of you has already been memorised but that's not the point. You're no longer uncharted territory, you're truly his to view as he pleases and that is what he craves most.

thank youu for reading. honestly these r all characters I don't write for very often so it was a bit of fun to think about them. wherever u are anon I hope u enjoy this, sorry again LOL

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 30k #primarchs #warhammer x reader #primarch x reader #magnus the red x reader #magnus x reader #fulgrim x reader #sanguinius x reader #warhammer fanfic #diabolical headcanons #diabolical x reader

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mymusingss · 2 days ago

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To think about that the circumstances for McQ and Tom to meet were that they both had to be at the lowest points of their lives doesn't escape me.

Any slight difference and they would probably not have met. If Tom's career wasn't tanking, McQ wouldn't have heard that conversation and scheduled that meeting.

If McQ had already given up, he would not have come back.

If that person wasn't at that restaurant, or if they were but McQ left even ten minutes early, he would not have heard the conversation that would led him to meet McQ.

Any change, even the smallest one, would have just butterfly effected their whole partnership out of existence.

And the fact the reason they met was literally due to McQ hearing a conversation about a man he didn't know and not liking it and deciding to meet him is even wilder to me.

McQ was looking for someone, anyone, to give him a chance and when Tom did you can tell he spent years worrying about Tom leaving him behind, about their partnership ending, about being too good to be true.

Tom was quite frankly looking for a saving grace at that time. After the shit show that was happening and him just having a breakdown on live TV and being mocked for it, he was spiraling. They were just two people, that without knowing, just needed to find each other for whatever reason the Universe had.

Tom has picked up the pieces of his life, has wisely learned to keep things private, has worked his ass off to rehabilitate his image and McQ has left director jail and is thriving while working with Tom.

It took them years to find each other, and they did when everything was going up in flames for them both, and they both went about their partnerships in two different ways.

McQ spent years worrying that it would be over at any mistep he took, while Tom knew from the start that he and McQ would work together for a long time.

Tom wanted to give McQ a choice when it came to Valkyrie and working with him (McQ didn't even know he had made a deal with the execs and said he'd only work on the movie if McQ went with him) and McQ did end up choosing to accept (I did not mean to make that joke but it kinda wrote itself lmao).

I think the beauty of what they have lies with the fact that they met at their lowest and have worked so hard to do all they did together. What is also beautiful is that they chose to cement their partnership and relationship at every project, at every contribution, despite the fact that they could have chosen otherwise - especially with everything that would entail.

It is not just a work partnership or collaboration, we got way past that point the moment McQ decided to go help Tom with Ghost Protocol and now are in the "McQ literally said he'd prefer to die with Tom" territory. Work partnership my ass.

I am not saying they're not work partner, obviously they are. But that's not all they are. Clearly they mean a lot to each other, more than we will probably ever know, and I will always be grateful for whatever led McQ to be at that restaurant.

#tom cruise #christopher mcquarrie #mcqruise #heather mcquarrie #this might sound crazy but who tf cares #I genuinely believe they were meant to meet #my grandmother used to say that some souls are constantly looking for each other #and that the universe finds a way of helping them find each other and I genuinely believe that's their case #they have made each other's lives so much richer and beautiful in so many ways #and truly we have left work partners sphere at least 10 years ago by this point #the fact they found each other at the lowest point of their lives #when all they were looking for was for someone to believe in them #I mean shit the fic writes itself except is fucking reality #and now look at tom #he has a family 😭#all he is clearly fucking loved by a lot of people

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rnnsdrms · 22 hours ago

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AEGEAN HIGHS .ᐟ

SYNOPSIS ❤︎ So … you’ve finally hit it — the scariest moment of your accidentally brilliant author career: literary rock bottom. Writer’s block has come for your life. Maybe you should have seen this existential dread creeping up your life when your debut novel blew up overnight and accidentally made you famous. Is it the soul-crushing city life? The relentless noise of social media? No. It’s definitely your editor breathing down your neck, demanding the next big thing. Whatever the cause, your brain has flatlined. The blinking cursor on your Google Doc now feels like a countdown to creative death. Every attempt to write ends in existential spirals and way too much caffeine. So you do what any stressed, royalty-rich author would do: vanish. Greece sounds like the perfect place to do just that — the sun, sea, the cuisine, and absolutely no chance of running into anyone who knows your name or your book. You can be a stranger in a beautiful country … or so you thought. Because apparently, the universe — or fate or karma, or whoever’s got your file in the celestial HR department — has decided to make your life a lot harder. One by one, familiar faces from your past began to show up. And as if that wasn’t chaotic enough, your ongoing misadventures somehow attract a few new faces too. Major plot twist: they all seem to know each other. Now, you’re trapped in what was supposed to be your peaceful, healing vacation — which has rapidly mutated into not only a surreal, sun-drenched reunion tour of the men from chapters you thought you had already closed, but also a battleground for the ones who wishes to write their name down in the history of your life. So much for solitude. So much for peace. And honestly, you should have just stayed home and cried into your Google Docs page.

ᯓ★ an nsfw blue lock fanfic series(?) featuring author!reader + filthy rich soccer players in their mid to late twenties who have their own agendas to have you for themselves.

The World's No. 1 Striker aka Isagi Yoichi

cw: childhood friends, (slightly) yandere!isagi yoichi, stalker vibes, manipulation, praise kink,

You haven’t spoken to him in years — not since he decided to join the Blue Lock facility. It was like his presence vanished from the face of the Earth. The next thing you know, his face and name are suddenly everywhere: plastered across posters in public spaces and transportations, in newsfeeds, and on advertisement boards. You notice how much he has grown, and there was something in his eyes that feels different, but you can’t pinpoint what. To say you’re surprised would be an understatement. And when you accidentally bump into him during a walk through the traditional market on your holiday, you’re at a complete loss for words. He claims the encounter is “entirely” coincidental, and while his reason for being in Greece is the same as yours, what you don’t know is that Isagi Yoichi isn’t here just for sunsets and souvlaki. No… he’s got unfinished business. It’s safe to say he’s not just trying to revive a childhood friendship — not anymore. Now that he’s got you in his sights, he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re not parted from him ever again.

The Destroyer aka Itoshi Rin

tw: the hot neighbour trope, tsundere! itoshi rin, slightly dominant! reader, enemies to lovers, slow burn, degradation kink,

If there’s one thing you have in common with Itoshi Rin, it’s that your vacation house happens to be in the same area as his childhood home. In other words, he’s your neighbor. And you’ve never liked your neighbor — despite what the old ladies in the neighborhood say about him being tall and handsome, if not “a little too intense” (not your words, obviously). With the way his cold gaze seems to judge you from across the street like he’s the district’s unofficial vibe cop, it’s hard to find a single redeeming quality. And somehow, the two of you always find new ways to spark a petty feud. It started small — your cat sneaking into his balcony at midnight, his packages constantly landing at your door instead of his — but the irritation only grew from there. This summer, you were finally free: traveling abroad, leaving the pettiness behind. No Rin. No neighbor drama. Bliss. So imagine your absolute bewilderment when you run into him in Greece — of all places. You’re convinced you’ve been cursed. And the feeling? Completely mutual. Rin isn’t exactly thrilled to see you either. And yet, despite every attempt to steer clear of each other, you and him keep colliding — like fate, or sheer spite, refuses to let you stay apart. But the worst part? The more he annoys you … the more you’re starting to think it might not be hate fueling your pent-up emotions after all.

The Soccer Prodigy aka Itoshi Sae

tw: strangers to lovers trope, love at first sight, clumsy!reader, slow burn, drunk sex, not so darkish content because this man yearns like an immortal he just needs love let’s give it to him

You’re not into soccer — not even a little. You couldn’t name a single powerhouse team if your life depended on it. So how were you supposed to know that the guy you made a stellar first impression on (which involved spilling coffee on his limited-edition, branded white shirt) turned out to be international football royalty and a walking tabloid headline: Itoshi Sae? By the time you realized who he was, it was already too late. The damage was done — to his shirt, to your reputation, and possibly to your will to live. Now, you’re far too mortified to set foot in that café again. You’ve tried writing in other places, but none of them have that perfect ambience — the sea breeze, the quiet chatter, the coffee that hits just bitter enough to feel poetic. So here you are, clinging to the hope that the Fates might spare your already cursed soul… and that Sae won’t show up there again. But this is Greece — the land of grand tragedies — and one of the greatest is this: the Fates, in their divine comedy, have apparently tied your thread of life to his. And every time you cross paths — because of course you do — you’re always in the middle of some minor disaster. You’re not sure what’s worse — that he keeps witnessing your slow descent into chaos, or that he seems to be taking interest in it. As if your astrologically doomed luck is the most entertaining thing he’s seen all week.

The Hero aka Kunigami Rensuke

tw: secret admirer's trope, senior! kunigami rensuke (a year above you), possessive behaviour

Running into Kunigami Rensuke during your vacation was not on your vacation itinerary — but maybe it should have been. Out of all the people you have come to genuinely like (note: platonically), Rensuke still holds a top-tier spot. Hard to forget the guy who helped you survive that cursed elective class back in university. But maybe it's what they call a 'blessing in disguise' because if you haven't met a charming guy like him back in university, you would have sworn off men for the rest of your life. There was literally nothing to hate about him — patient and kind and considerate — the man is literally a saint. But you were too oblivious to notice back then as to why a man of his caliber is single. You just think he's chill and kind just like that — the 'cool guy friend'. For Rensuke, it has been ages since he last spoke with you but seeing you again feels like the universe was finally in his favour. He silently makes a vow: this time, he's not leaving this archipelago without telling you how he feels. No hesitation. No more waiting around. You've always meant more to him than you knew — and now that you're within his grasp, once again, he's ready to prove it.

The Corporate Millionaire aka Mikage Reo

cw: high school exes, dubcon, manipulation

One name you swore you’d never want to hear again? Mikage Reo — your high school ex-boyfriend, now filed permanently in the archives of your emotional regret folder. Things ended, and not on good terms. But you made your peace with it. There was some small comfort in knowing the two of you had taken completely different paths — until, of course, his annoyingly perfect face started showing up on TV after he inherited the CEO position at Mikage Corporation. Still, you managed to live with it … until your so-called “wounds” rip open again when you unexpectedly spot him boarding the same cruise as you. And no, he’s not alone. Along with the emotional baggage clearly marked as “unresolved feelings”, he’s brought a friend — tall, attractive, and definitely not here to make your life easier. Originally, Reo’s plan was a chill vacation around Greece with his best friend. But now that you’re in the picture? It looks like he’s making a few edits to that itinerary — starting with trying to win you back.

The Lazy Genius aka Nagi Seishiro

tw: second male lead trope, possessive and obsessive behaviour

Now, here's one face you're not familiar with, but you've got a feeling you've seen this guy somewhere before: Reo's ever-present teammate and emotional support introvert. Nagi Seishiro didn't come to Greece by choice — he was dragged by Reo and not wanting to hear his endless complaints of how he'd be lonely and bored without him, Seishiro begrudgingly accepted his invitation. He finds no joy in going for holidays. He would rather be at home, wrapped in a blanket, playing games without looking at the clock. He expected absolutely nothing from this trip — until he met you — a pretty little thing who he knows he'll probably have no chance with. He has heard of your past history with Reo. Not to mention, who would choose someone like him? Detached, gloomy and more interested in screen than real life? But then you smiled at him. Once. Maybe twice. Maybe it's the way you call his name — so kind and gentle and caring — qualities Seishiro has yet to feel in his life. You unknowingly altered his brain chemistry, and just like any other gamers, he enjoys a hard challenge: he is going to make you his and his only.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi sae x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #smut #tw dark content #tw dubcon #yandere au

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dialalagirl · 3 days ago

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Of course the first game(HDB) is amazing and you said that your favorite one but if you have to rate the route how would you rate them?

(NOT YOU HITTING MY FAVOURITE TOPIC TO DISCUSS EVER. I AM AFRAID YOU OPENED UP A CAN OF WORMS. one caveat—I hate most of the heaven scenarios and will be subsequently ignoring them lul)

1. subaru: the reason i’m still in diahell, even after over a decade

subaru is the embodiment of nihilism and deeply internalized self-hatred—a walking scar shaped by a profoundly traumatic childhood. he doesn’t simply feel broken; he knows he is, and that knowledge poisons every one of his relationships. his worldview, darkened by the circumstances of his birth, becomes a rejection of traditional masculinity—especially those toxic, violent ideals often glorified (rape culture, dominance, control). and yet, he falters in that rejection, sometimes trying to perform (but ultimately failing) those very roles out of self-loathing—trying to affirm his “filthy” nature, as if leaning into it will make the pain mean something

what’s devastating is how aware he is of the damage he causes. the people around him are often just collateral in his spiral, and he knows it. despite that, his devotion to his mother is sincere—even when the pain of constantly being compared to his father threatens to shatter him. the dissociation is real, but he still chooses love. and when it comes to yui… god. watching him, in every route, brute-force his way toward protecting her—not because he believes he’s worthy of her, but because he chooses to, even in death? that’s the core of his tragic agency. especially in the brute ending, where he prevents her from being lost to cordelia—he doesn’t do it to play hero, he does it because she matters, not just as a symbol, but as a person

there’s something devastatingly beautiful in how he admires yui’s strength—not just her kindness or morality, but her unwavering sense of self. she could lean on god. she could lean on him. but she doesn’t. that restraint gives him the space to finally act—not out of obligation, not as a savior, but from choice. it’s the first time he’s not reliving his trauma with his mother, but creating something new

and that love scene in ecstasy 10? easily one of the most romantic things i’ve read in years. every word of it feels earned. not because it’s some idealized fantasy, but because it’s raw, hard-won, and honest. they don’t find salvation in each other—they find the freedom to choose one another

2. laito: my favourite depiction of him—i.e., he is unfixable here and I prefer him that way—oops

i think the best place to start is with a quote from shuu, who calls laito a “fake pervert.” and honestly? that’s the most incisive read anyone in-universe gives him. because laito isn’t just a pervert—he’s a performance of perversion. he wears whatever mask suits the moment, not just to seduce, but to displace his own self-hatred. his entire persona is constructed around this idea that if he can turn everything into a game—if he can reduce you to just another “bitch-chan” or “toy”—then maybe he can avoid confronting the rot underneath. connection doesn’t interest him. confirmation does. confirmation that mother was right about what he is. that closeness is always a kind of ruin. and that anyone who touches him will become tainted, too

that’s the genius of his character: you never really know where he stands. every word, every gesture is curated—part affection, part threat. his speech is so wrapped in sugar and teasing that you stop noticing how violent it is. he draws you in with a gentle voice, then says something cruel with a smile so soft it disorients you. and in that confusion, you start to bend. that’s the game. that’s the trap. he shifts the dynamic constantly, never letting you find solid ground. and in that process, you stop being a person. you become a role. a mirror. the stage he performs himself on

his end goal isn’t just ownership—it’s belief. he wants you to agree. to say the words back to him. to believe you were always his, that you were made for this, made for him. not because there’s anything tender beneath it, but because repetition can become reality. if he can make you speak the script often enough, maybe it’ll drown out that unbearable silence—the one he was left in after cordelia, after the abuse, after the world taught him that love is just another word for pain

3. shu: the practice of apathy to avoid feeling

shuu doesn’t drift through life because he’s indifferent. he does it because apathy is safer. it’s a habit, not a flaw. a system he’s built over time to keep himself untouched. he’s not emotionally absent—he’s deliberately unreachable

after edgar’s death, he learned quickly that attachment only leads to loss, and feeling anything at all is a liability. since then, distance has been the rule. he stops participating, stops trying, lets the world move around him while he stays still. the laziness, the boredom—it’s a smokescreen. if he’s quiet enough, maybe no one will ask for more

yui doesn’t break this wall dramatically—she just doesn’t leave. and that, more than anything, forces him to adjust. she doesn’t push for access, she just stays present. and in doing so, she becomes an irritant. a reminder that time is still passing. that silence isn’t immunity—it’s stagnation

he keeps playing up yui’s “perverseness” because sex allows him a layer of detachment. physical contact without emotional exposure. it’s a way to keep control, to maintain boundaries even in intimacy. but despite the coldness, it’s clear her presence affects him. he doesn’t soften, but he registers her. bit by bit, her consistency forces him to acknowledge that he’s still capable of reacting. not changing—just reacting. it’s uncomfortable, and that discomfort is the point. she forces him to notice the gap between detachment and decay

and in the manservant ending, his confrontation with reiji reveals how far this quiet resistance goes. he’s not just fighting his brother’s control—he’s fighting the parts of himself that want to stay locked away in numbness. it’s not a victory or a breakthrough, but a refusal to disappear entirely. and at the heart of that refusal is the complicated, tangled connection he’s forged with yui—a connection built not on tenderness, but on distance, mistrust, and that carefully maintained apathy

4. reiji: the art of letting go of self-consuming obsession to confirmation from those who won’t give it

i know a lot of people put down the pigeon man, but i’m here to open thy mind. reiji’s story is one of relentless control and desperate need for approval—validation he chases but never truly receives. his fractured relationship with shuu, scarred by violent acts like burning edgar’s village, is both cause and effect of his obsession. it’s a tangled mix of rivalry, guilt, and the need to dominate the chaos within and around him

cordelia’s influence shapes much of reiji’s struggle. he once dreamed of resurrecting their mother, but he sacrifices that dream—not for power’s sake, but to protect yui from cordelia’s control. this sacrifice isn’t a simple act of surrender but a complicated choice blending duty, affection, and a rare willingness to give something up for someone else. eventually, he kills cordelia, ending her hold in a way that is both final and deeply personal

reiji’s relationship with yui is marked by tension and contradiction. he resists her disruptions to his order violently—even strangling her in the maniac route—but beneath his harsh control is a recognition that yui’s persistence isn’t like the demands of his mother or cordelia. she seeks to see the man beneath his armor, and that unsettles him far more than outright defiance

letting go for reiji means wrestling with a deeply ingrained obsession: the need to prove himself to those who won’t give him the confirmation he craves. it’s a battle to face vulnerability behind his precise control and cold exterior. it’s not surrender but a quiet, ongoing struggle—one that reveals the complexity of a man shaped by loss, duty, and unexpected connection

5. ayato: the complicated journey of being the best (which no one can be)

ayato’s relentless drive to be number one is both his greatest weapon and his heaviest burden. beneath the confident, teasing mask lies a fragile ego shaped by a childhood scarred by his mother’s brutal drowning—an attempt to purge ‘weakness’ that instead stifled his capacity for emotional connection and empathy. this trauma left him emotionally shut off, and his narcissism serves as a defensive armor for a deeply vulnerable self

yui often becomes a prop in ayato’s performance of superiority—her blood, her presence, a tool to prove he’s the best, the strongest. but his interactions with her are complicated, tinged with confusion: part prey, part prize, part threat. he struggles to decode his own feelings, often defaulting to seeing her through the lens of dominance and possession, unable to fully acknowledge the more complicated emotions underneath

his relationships with laito and shuu are defined by a constant push-and-pull—competitive, sometimes hostile, but underlined by unspoken needs for acceptance and validation that ayato rarely admits. as a child, ayato’s instinct for survival led him to distance himself from some of the darkest burdens within their family, leaving others—like laito—to carry them instead. this choice reveals the fragility beneath his fierce exterior.

his pursuit of being the best is a trap, chasing an impossible ideal born from trauma and fear. his mask cracks only rarely, and even then, the cost is high

6. kanato: creepy taxidermy write-off

i hate the fuckin’ gremlin, i am so sorry

the mood swings? unbearable. the constant screaming? exhausting. the creepy lolita trope? never worked for me, and probably never will. i get the appeal in theory—the eerie, porcelain-doll aesthetic mixed with unhinged trauma—but in execution, kanato often feels more grating than tragic. still, analyzing him? different story

as much as i can’t stand him, the psychological impact of cordelia’s abuse on kanato is fascinating. he’s what happens when sadism gets stripped of context, control, or charm. unlike ayato (who postures his sadism as dominance) or laito (who masks his under layers of flirtation and cruelty-as-survival), kanato is just pure volatility. there’s no filter, no strategy—just raw, unprocessed pain weaponized through childish tantrums and sexual violence. it’s all impulse, no restraint

and the thing is… he’s definitely more sex-crazed than laito. it tracks. he’s emotionally stunted and clings to teddy as both a trauma comfort object and a dead sibling stand-in. his concept of love and intimacy is so mangled by neglect and maternal oversexualization that it makes sense he’d swing into extremes. doesn’t mean i have to like it, though. and i don’t

#diabolik lovers #sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #shu sakamaki #i am in my happy place rn analyzing my diaboys #:3

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reveryfics · 1 day ago

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Kit Harrington and Richard Madden are both SO FINE😳🤭. I swear they couldn't have picked any HOTTER actors for the Eternals Men. How about a Dane Whitman request, since I can barely find any for him compared to the rest of the Eternal men😭 (not that they don't deserve it).

I'm thinking male reader decides to plan a day out with Dane after having spent a couple of weeks with minimal contact, what with balancing being a professor and going through training/missions as the new Black Knight. Dane feels extremely guilty and tries to reverse the situation and take male reader out instead but he refuses and comforts Dane. Either they could already be in a relationship or this could lead to them having their first kiss and getting together (you could decide🤭).

Feel free to ignore the request,

Love your work Revery🫶

Over Coffee

Dane Whitman x Male Reader

Summary: After countless failed attempts to get Dane to spend time with you, you found yourself at a crossroads when he suddenly initiated plans. You decided to confront him about his constant excuses, and the resulting conversation was anything but straightforward.

A/N: For real, they had such waisted potential with this cast and movie (minus Harry Styles,) just wish they didn't waste Kit Harrington's character. Will never ignore your requests, both have been so good! I'm back now, and open to more requests!

TW: Fluff - Friends to Lovers - First kiss

Dane Whitman had become a fixture in your life, a presence you'd come to know in the quiet hallways of the university and the bustling lecture halls. Your initial connection was purely professional, born from your shared roles as professors. It began with brief, polite conversations before classes, easy smiles exchanged as you passed in the corridor, and quick chats about curriculum and student progress. But these brief encounters soon blossomed into something more substantial.

Your professional relationship gradually evolved into a genuine, comfortable friendship. Late nights at the campus coffee shop became a regular occurrence, the clatter of mugs and the low hum of conversation providing the backdrop as you helped each other grade towering stacks of papers. Early mornings often began with a shared coffee, a quiet moment of camaraderie before the chaos of the day began. On weekends, your apartments became movie marathon havens, filled with the aroma of popcorn and the soft glow of the screen.

From the very beginning, Dane was drawn to you. He couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, but there was an undeniable pull. Perhaps it was your easygoing nature, the way you navigated the demanding world of academia with a relaxed confidence. Or maybe it was the passion that ignited in your eyes when you spoke about your subject, a fire that he found both inspiring and deeply attractive. He could sit for hours, lost in the sound of your voice, all the while taking note of the small, unconscious habits that made you you. He'd find himself mesmerized by the way you'd occasionally scratch at the stubble on your chin, a familiar gesture that seemed to be a habit you'd never shaken.

He'd never admit it, not to a soul, least of all to himself. He was undeniably attracted to you. Especially when you wore your glasses, the frames perched on your nose, giving you a look of serious intellect that he found incredibly appealing. And those button-up shirts... they fit your form perfectly, hugging your broad shoulders and chest, and he'd always find his eyes lingering on the slight curve of your stomach that hung over the top of your pants.

In his desperation, he confided in your mutual friend, Sersi. He sought her advice, a way to navigate the swirling feelings that were consuming him. But every time she would offer the simplest and most obvious solution—"Just ask them out"—he would refuse outright, his excuses growing more elaborate and less convincing with each passing day.

But then, as it so often does, life got in the way. A seismic shift occurred in Dane’s world. His academic responsibilities, already a heavy load, were now compounded by a stunning, world-altering discovery: he was the latest in a long line of wielders of the Ebony Blade, destined to become the Black Knight. The weight of a legendary mantle settled on his shoulders, and suddenly, there was no time for late-night grading sessions or lazy weekend movie marathons.

Time seemed to melt into a distorted blur. If he wasn't teaching, he was training, learning to control the volatile power of the Blade. His days were consumed by a new, demanding reality. He saw you less and less, and the shared coffee breaks vanished. Whenever you'd reach out, a casual text asking if he was alright or an invitation to catch up over coffee, he'd blow you off. He'd invent a new excuse each time, a fictitious meeting, a sudden errand, a mountain of papers to grade. The excuses became more frequent and less believable, a flimsy shield against the truth he couldn't share.

After months of this emotional distance, you finally gave up. The easy smiles you once shared in the hallway became a thing of the past. When you passed him, your lips barely curved into a polite, strained acknowledgment. And when Sersi would bring him up, you'd shut down the conversation immediately, refusing to discuss him. The friendship you had so carefully built seemed to have crumbled into nothing, leaving behind only the ghost of what it had been.

The fluorescent lights of the empty classroom hummed, a low, monotonous sound that did little to soothe your frazzled nerves. Your glasses had slid halfway down your nose, and you'd long since given up on pushing them back up. Your fingers were tangled in your hair, a familiar habit born of frustration, and your pen was poised over a student's essay, a red-inked question mark hanging in the air. The words blurred on the page, and you sighed, leaning back in your chair. The worn leather creaked in protest, a sound as weary as you felt.

You were attempting to grade a stack of papers, a task that normally brought you a quiet sense of satisfaction. But tonight, the words wouldn't stick. The concepts you were trying to evaluate felt as distant as the moon. Your mind was a whirlwind of half-formed thoughts and unanswerable questions, all of them centered on one person. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to clear your head, but his image was already there, as clear as day. The memory of his easy smile, the sound of his laugh, the way he would absentmindedly run a hand through his hair when he was thinking.

You opened your eyes and a gasp caught in your throat. He was there. Dane Whitman was leaning against the doorway of your classroom, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He wore a simple, dark t-shirt, and his muscles were clearly defined beneath the fabric. He looked tired, but his eyes held a familiar intensity.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly sound that sent a jolt through you.

For a moment, you couldn't speak. You simply stared, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. It had been months. Months of polite smiles and hurried glances in the hallway, of his unexplained absences and your growing resignation. The sight of him, standing there in your doorway, felt like a scene from a dream you'd already forgotten.

You finally found your voice, though it came out as a whisper. "Dane. What are you doing here?"

He pushed off the doorframe and took a tentative step into the room, his gaze fixed on you. "I... I just wanted to talk."

You slowly sat up, your movements stiff, and pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. The papers on your desk suddenly felt like a shield, a barrier between you and the man who had inexplicably vanished from your life. "Talk? After months of blowing me off? What's there to talk about, Dane?" The words were sharper than you intended, fueled by a mixture of hurt and anger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

He flinched, his jaw tightening. "I know. I know I've been a jerk. I have no excuse for it." He ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture you knew so well, a habit you had watched countless times. "Life... got complicated. More complicated than you can imagine."

You scoffed, a humorless sound. "More complicated than answering a text message? More complicated than a five-minute coffee break? I thought we were friends, Dane."

He closed the distance between you, stopping at the student desk in front of your own. He leaned on it, his posture tense, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability you hadn't seen in a long time. "We are. You're... you're one of the best friends I've ever had. That's why this is so hard." His gaze dropped to the papers on your desk, then back to you. "I can't tell you everything. But I promise you, I had a good reason for disappearing. A world-ending reason."

His words hung in the air, a nonsensical riddle. You narrowed your eyes, trying to decipher his cryptic confession. "A world-ending reason? What are you talking about?"

He shook his head, a muscle in his cheek twitching. "I can't. Not yet. But I needed you to know... that I haven't forgotten about you. Not for a single day." He hesitated, his eyes flickering over your face, lingering on your mouth, your eyes, the stray strands of hair clinging to your forehead. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, a stark contrast to the distant stranger he had been for months. Your anger began to ebb away, replaced by a confused and overwhelming ache in your chest. You looked at him, at the dark circles under his eyes and the haunted look in their depths, and you knew, with a certainty that defied all logic, that he was telling the truth. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You finally set your pen down, the clatter echoing in the silent room. "So, what now, Dane?" you asked, your voice soft. "Are you going to disappear again after this? Or are you going to let me in?"

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of apology and a desperate plea for understanding. He pushed off the desk, standing up straight. The casual, relaxed posture from the doorway was gone, replaced by a coiled tension you hadn't seen before.

"I... I want to try and make it right," he said, his voice low but firm. "I know it's a lot to ask, but... can we get coffee? Like we used to? I know you've got a lot of questions, and I'll answer what I can. I just... I need to see you again. Properly. Not in a hallway, not for a quick chat, but... us. Like before."

You stood slowly from your desk, the creak of the chair a loud intrusion in the quiet room. You walked around the desk, your hands finding the cool, smooth surface of the wooden table. Your glasses had slid down your nose again, and you didn't bother to fix them. You just stared at him, the hurt and confusion churning in your gut.

"Like before?" The words were heavy with a bitter irony. "Dane, what do you think 'before' even means to me now?" You gestured around the empty classroom, your voice rising in a mix of frustration and genuine pain. "For months, I thought something was wrong. I thought I did something to upset you. Every time I saw you, you looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and I asked, I tried, and you just... pushed me away."

You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a low, intense tone. "I'd ask Sersi what was going on, and she'd just tell me she didn't know. I was worried sick about you. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't focus on my work." You ran a hand through your hair, the action a testament to your frayed nerves. "And now you show up here, after months of silence, and tell me you couldn't make time because of a 'world-ending reason'? What am I supposed to do with that, Dane? It doesn't make any sense."

The anger in your voice was a raw, unfiltered thing, the culmination of months of worry and feeling cast aside. You could see the flicker of a pained expression in his eyes, but you couldn't stop.

"You think I can just forget about all that and go for coffee like we used to? Like we're just two friends who lost touch for a couple of weeks? We were more than that, Dane. We were... we were close. And you just vanished. No explanation, no call, no text. Just... gone." Your voice trembled slightly. "Do you have any idea how that felt? To think that the person who could sit for hours and listen to me talk, the person I could spend a whole weekend with, just decided I wasn't worth their time anymore?"

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, filled only with the hum of the lights and the frantic rhythm of your own heart. You stood there, breathing heavily, your chest tight with emotion. The ball was in his court. You had laid it all out, the hurt, the confusion, the lingering fear. Now, it was up to him to either give you a reason to trust him again or walk out of your life for good.

His jaw worked, a muscle ticking beneath the skin of his cheek. He listened to every word, his face a canvas of regret and pain. He didn't interrupt, didn't make an excuse. He just stood there, taking it all in. When you finished, the only sound was your ragged breathing and the ever-present hum of the classroom lights.

He finally spoke, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, but it held a new weight. "You're right. You're completely right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just disappeared. I should have told you. But I couldn't."

He took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "What I'm about to tell you... you can't tell anyone. Not Sersi, not another soul. This is... bigger than us. Bigger than this city. Bigger than... a lot of things."

He ran a hand through his hair again, the gesture one of pure exasperation. "I've been going through... a sort of family inheritance. A terrible, ancient one." He looked down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. "My family... we have a legacy. A history tied to a mythical blade, the Ebony Blade. It's been passed down through my bloodline for centuries. And recently... it was my turn."

He looked back up at you, his eyes a mixture of fear and resolve. "The Blade... it's a curse. It demands a cost. It amplifies the worst parts of you. It's a dark, powerful weapon, and it chooses its wielder. I've been training, learning to control it. Learning what it means to be the Black Knight."

The name hung in the air, a fantastical echo in the mundane setting of a university classroom. You blinked, trying to process his words. "The Black Knight? Like... from the legends? Like... King Arthur?"

He gave a wry, humorless smile. "Exactly like that. I know how it sounds. Trust me, I know. I still have trouble believing it myself. But it's real. And the training... the challenges... it's all-consuming. I couldn't have a normal life and do this, not at the beginning. I was afraid of the Blade, afraid of what it would do to me, and even more afraid of what it would do to anyone I cared about."

He took another step closer, now standing only a few feet from you. The air between you was charged with unspoken emotions. "Every time you reached out, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to see you. More than anything. But I was convinced I had to keep you safe from this. Safe from me. So I pushed you away. It was selfish and it was stupid, and I'm so sorry."

He finally let his arms fall to his sides, his posture softening slightly. "I'm still learning. I still have a long way to go. But I can't do this alone. I don't want to. I need you in my life, if you'll have me. I know I don't deserve it, but... please. Give me a chance to show you what's really going on. Let me explain everything I can."

He looked at you with a raw vulnerability you hadn't seen since the first few weeks of your friendship, before his world had turned upside down. It was an honest, desperate plea. The papers on your desk, your frustration, your anger—it all seemed to fade away, replaced by the overwhelming reality of the man standing before you, a man who had been chosen by a mythical curse and now stood here, asking you to believe him.

You had a choice to make. You could dismiss him as a liar, a man making up an outlandish story to escape accountability. Or you could trust the look in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, and the gut feeling that had been telling you for months that something was terribly wrong.

You looked at him, your gaze lingering on the dark circles under his eyes, the faint shadows of exhaustion that couldn't be faked. After a long moment of silence, you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper. "Okay, Dane."

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Okay?" he asked, his voice full of hope.

"Okay," you repeated, your voice a little stronger this time. "Let's go get that coffee."

The bell above the door chimed softly as you and Dane entered the familiar coffee shop. The aroma of roasted beans and warm pastries enveloped you, a scent so intrinsically tied to your friendship that it felt like a physical embrace. It was late, and the shop was quiet, a few students hunched over laptops in the corners and a barista wiping down the counter. You ordered your usual, a black coffee with a splash of milk, and Dane got his, a simple americano. The silence between you in line was a stark contrast to your usual easy banter, a heavy presence filled with all the unspoken questions and the incredible confession he had just made.

You found your usual booth, the one in the back corner with the worn leather seats. You sat across from him, and the table, once a space for shared laughter and easy camaraderie, now felt like a chasm. He stirred his coffee slowly, his gaze fixed on the swirling liquid.

"So," you started, your voice quiet, "the Ebony Blade."

He looked up, a wry, tired smile touching his lips. "I know. It sounds completely insane."

"It does," you admitted, a small, nervous laugh escaping you. "It sounds like... a movie. Or a comic book."

"Believe me, I'm still waiting for the director to yell 'cut'," he said, his voice laced with a dark humor. He took a sip of his coffee, as if to fortify himself. "It's all real. My family history is tied to it. The Blade itself... it's a a sword made from a meteorite that fell to Earth long ago. It's powerful, but it's cursed. It craves blood, and it corrupts the wielder." He held up his hand, and you saw a faint, shimmering line of blue-black energy tracing along the back of his hand, just under the skin. It pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. "It's a part of me now."

Your eyes widened. "What is that?"

"It's the curse," he explained, his voice grim. "It's the reason I had to pull away from you. The Blade's influence... it amplifies rage, anger, all the negative emotions. The more I used it, the more I felt like I was losing myself. I was afraid of hurting you. I was afraid of the person I was becoming."

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his gaze intense. "The training was brutal. It was all-consuming. I had to learn to control it, to suppress its bloodlust. There were nights I didn't sleep, days I couldn't eat. I was a mess. And I didn't want to bring you into that mess."

He paused, taking another sip of his coffee, giving you time to absorb the mind-boggling information. You ran a hand through your hair, a familiar gesture of stress. It was too much to take in. This man, the history professor you had spent countless nights grading papers with, was a mythical warrior bound to a cursed sword. It was the stuff of legends, not the real world.

"But... why me?" you asked, the question tumbling out before you could stop it. "Why did you need to push me away? You could have just... told me something. Anything. I would have understood if you'd just said you were going through something."

He sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "I was afraid of what the Blade would do to me if I got too close to you. I was afraid that if I let myself be happy, let myself care about you, that the Blade would take it away. That it would twist that happiness into something dark. I was so scared that I would lose control and hurt you." His voice was barely a whisper. "You were the one person I couldn't risk it with. You... you mattered too much."

The confession hung in the air between you, more potent than the caffeine in your cups. It was a raw, vulnerable admission that stripped away all his defenses. In that moment, sitting across from you in a quiet coffee shop, he wasn't the distant stranger from the past few months. He was the Dane you knew, the one who was gentle and kind, but who was now burdened with an impossible responsibility.

"So," you said, your voice soft, "you're still learning?"

He nodded. "Every day. It's a constant battle. But I'm better now. Stronger. I'm learning to wield the Blade without letting it wield me. And I knew... I knew I couldn't live with myself if I lost you because of this."

You looked at him, at the sincerity in his eyes and the exhaustion etched on his face. He had risked a part of his soul, a part of his humanity, to protect you. And even though it had caused you pain, you knew his intentions were rooted in a deep, desperate need to keep you safe.

A soft smile finally touched your lips, a genuine one this time. "Well, Dane Whitman, you have some serious explaining to do. We're going to need a lot more coffee."

The coffee mugs had long since gone cold, and the coffee shop was now empty save for the two of you and the lone barista patiently cleaning up. Outside, the night had fully descended, the campus lights casting long, golden streaks across the asphalt. You and Dane had been talking for hours, lost in a whirlwind of impossible truths and long-overdue confessions. He had told you everything he could, the story of the Ebony Blade, the curse, and the terrifying journey he'd been on. You, in turn, had laid bare the hurt and loneliness of his absence. The air had cleared, replaced with a fragile but genuine sense of understanding.

As you stood up to leave, stretching your stiff limbs, he didn't hesitate to offer. "Let me walk you back. It's late."

You nodded, a soft smile on your face. The walk across campus was a silent one, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence of before. This was a comfortable silence, filled with the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze and the distant sounds of the city. You were processing everything, and you knew he was, too.

You reached your apartment door, the familiar red wood a welcome sight. You leaned against it, the cool surface a grounding presence against your back. You looked at him, his silhouette defined by the dim porch light. The words you had been holding back for hours finally slipped out.

"So, why did you care so much about me, Dane?" you asked, your voice quiet but firm. "You've talked about the Blade and the curse and the training... but you've never actually said why you were so worried about me, specifically. You could have just let me go."

He shifted, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked away, his gaze fixed on the apartment across the hall. He was trying to find the words, trying to play it off as simple friendship. "You're my friend. Of course, I care about you. I didn't want to lose you."

You saw right through it. The slight hesitation in his voice, the way his eyes darted away from yours. It was the same evasion you had grown so tired of months ago. You pushed off the door, standing straight and facing him fully.

"Don't do that," you said, your voice low and even. "Don't lie to me again. Not after tonight. If you have something to say, then say it. If you don't, then I'll see you at work tomorrow."

You turned, your key already in your hand, and began to unlock the door. The lock clicked, a small, final sound. You went to push the door open, to step inside and end the long, complicated night.

Just as you took a step, a hand gently but firmly grabbed yours.

You froze, your gaze dropping to your hand in his. His skin was warm, his grip steady. You looked up at him, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm in your chest.

His eyes were wide, a hint of panic and desperation in their depths. "I'm in love with you," he blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if a dam had just broken. "That's why I was so worried. I was terrified of what would happen if the Blade found a way to hurt the person I... I cared about the most. I was afraid of what it would do to you. I love you."

The sincerity was overwhelming, a raw and beautiful confession. A small, knowing smile spread across your face. You turned fully to face him, the key forgotten in your hand.

"It took you long enough," you murmured, your voice a soft tease.

He opened his mouth to say something, to explain, to apologize again, but you didn't let him. You reached up, your hands finding the collar of his shirt, and you pulled him toward you, cutting him off with a soft, gentle kiss.

It was a slow, tender kiss, a promise and a confession all in one. He instantly kissed you back, his free hand leaving yours to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. The kiss deepened, a wave of relief and unspoken longing washing over both of you.

You slowly pulled away, your lips lingering near his for a moment longer. The air between you was thick with a new, exhilarating tension.

"Goodnight, Dane," you whispered, your voice husky. You gave his chest a soft, affectionate pat and finally slipped into your apartment, pulling the door shut behind you and locking it with a satisfied click.

Dane stood there in the hallway, eyes slightly wide, a dazed look on his face. He reached up, his fingers brushing his lips, the phantom touch of yours still there. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes. He didn't have anything to worry about anymore. He had been so focused on protecting you from the darkness of his world, he hadn't realized that you were the light that would guide him through it. And now, you were his.

#dane whitman #dane whitman x male reader #dane whitman eternals #eternals dane whitman #eternals marvel #marvel eternals #marvel x male reader #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #x male reader #xmalereader #requested #marvel fanfic #eternals

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