To them, there is nothing sexier than seeing you in their clothing. Hoodies, T-shirts, old sweatpants, no matter what article of clothing, it doesn't matter. They leave their clothing out purposely just for you to find.
Is it cold outside? Oh, look, their cozy hoodie is on the sofa. Did you not like the new laundry soap? Well, their favorite band t-shirt hasn't been washed yet. Do all of your pants feel itchy? They have plenty of sweatpants for you to wear.
And like a hawk, they study detail of you in their clothing.
You are not foolish. You feel their eyes on you. Sometimes, you slowly tug off a t-shirt just to make them squirm. Other times you ingore wearing their old clothing in favor of your new cloths just to see them pout.
♡ notes: happy valen-tine's day!! ;) <33 please enjoy these little drabbles of kisses with them :)
♡ Read it on ao3!
Adeline’s kiss feels like a warm bath after a long day. Every brush of her coffee-laced lips eases the tension in your shoulders, the racing of your mind. The water flows over you with familiarity, tense muscles melting in perfect order as you sink lower. Her small sigh seems to indicate that your affection does the same.
Adeline’s favorite kisses come when she’s working. They’re not too long, nor too short. Always delivered when she looks up from her paperwork, a kiss pressed first to her dominant hand. She’ll pocket her pen, allowing you to deliver a quick massage to her cramping palm as your lips finally meet. The exchange is quick, all things considered, but Adeline finds herself treasuring it for the day’s remainder.
Your favorite kisses come in the evening, when her busy schedule winds down and she can enjoy the town she’s cultivated. The hearth crackles and burns as laughter brightens the Inn. Her passionate heart seems to stir, a proud smile on her face. Her lips quirk irresistibly, lemon lingering from dessert. She flushes when you part, hand gripping yours in subtle love.
Celine’s kiss is like a flower’s first bloom. It starts gentle and soft, her lips near petals over yours. The second is deeper, more intimate. It’s still nothing improper, merely a communication of all you make her feel. She tries to maintain her calm demeanor, yet the sensation of your affection only leaves her heart flourishing.
Celine’s favorite kisses are adventurous. She’s always had a wild streak, its roots long buried into her life’s soil. Early mornings bring it to the surface, when pastels paint the sky and dew coats the fields. Blankets tangle around you as you roll around her bed, Celine’s giggles echoing between every kiss. She plays with different angles, depths, and types – all crafting an imaginary novel she loves.
Your favorite kisses are given during fireside cuddles, books long forgotten in your laps. Your lips find each other like the sun and earth, constant in their pull. What begins as light reading and the exchange of stories and notes soon devolves into nothing more than a make-out, thoughts scattering like dandelion seeds in the wind.
Juniper’s kiss feels as intoxicating as the wine on her lips. In the privacy of her room, the misty veil over her affection parts. She’s far less reserved in her control of your kiss, even though she did not initiate it. For better or for worse, she prefers to play the game of silent yearning – something that only serves to make your lips all the sweeter against hers. She can never get enough of their heady meeting, of the rush that floods her cheeks and veins.
Juniper’s favorite kisses are indulgent, like golden cookies and a fine vintage on Friday nights. When business is slow, she can take her time with you, memorizing every sound that slips past your lips. She can hold you as close as she’d like and delve into you, treasuring your warmth. Later, she’ll act as if she wasn’t so tender with you, but you both know the truth.
Your favorite kisses are experimental. Most of the time it’s trying a new style Elsie shared from her many escapades, something to melt Juniper’s cold exterior and drive her crazy. Other times, though, it takes on an… unconventional angle. While your partner’s trials in sorcery and potions were often charming, they could get quite grating. Hence, your persistent croaks as a frog in her gloved palm. Juniper grimaced before placing a light kiss on your head, leaving your human body to be cradled in her arms with a blissful smile.
Reina’s kiss feels like summer sunshine. Sweet and all-encompassing, her love falls over you without reservation. She always leaves a “Reina’s fourteen” of playful pecks on your lips afterward, smile brighter than any golden ray. Her joy is infectious, her attention leaving the rest of your busy day lighter. You can only hope to provide her the same, at the very least with a new dish to attempt.
Reina’s favorite kisses come with a dance. She’s learned plenty watching her parents at town events and even learning from Josephine herself on occasion. She’s thrilled to be held close and spun around, your laughter harmonizing before a parting kiss. She’ll often hum later, coming up with new steps to try the next time you surprise her!
Your favorite kisses are given during Reina’s taste tests! She always invites you to her private kitchen, excitedly rambling about what flavor profiles she wants to try with the unique things you’ve foraged. You sneak kisses the entire time you work, all the way up to the plating. Reina’s lips taste even better spiced, sharp citrus undercutting the mixture. You can’t help but melt, turning to her light like sunflowers on a bright day.
Seridia’s kiss feels like a flame amidst the dark. Shadow has been all she’s known for millennia, all she’s come to expect from her immortal life. Fire was once hers, an inherent power that testified her status. Now, when she sees it in you, her first instinct is jealousy, a craving to have what once was. She never expected it would be like this, your lips against hers in her former temple. Every touch thrills her senses, igniting love’s spark under her skin. It burns deliciously, razing you into her veins.
Seridia’s favorite kisses come as worship, on late and delicate nights. The past lingers brutally, itching under her scales and keeping her from sleep. Your light graces her then, soft kisses falling along her form. She eases into your touch, eyes falling shut as she allows you to pay tribute wherever you see fit. While this level of trust feels new, it is surprisingly comforting. Her horns have become the spot guaranteed to make her go slack. Every pass of your plush lips on their keratinous curve leaves her breath and heart stuttering. The sensation of worship was long lost to her, but she can understand how many go mad from this intoxication.
Your favorite kisses are wild, given in Seridia’s passionate and instinctual moments. Despite the heat of her kiss, her clawed hands still hold your face with care. She never wishes to tarnish nor harm her greatest treasure, after all. The only one who understands her, who provides her with gifts, company, and unconditional love. Her lips are fierce, fangs dancing across yours, now plush and swollen from her attention. Her eyes shine in the candlelight as she parts, kissing the racing pulse in your neck.
Valen’s kiss feels like hot tea on an autumn evening. Her steadiness is soothing, her tenderness and care precious. She’s rarely rough with you, always respectful in her touches. Still, she’s no stranger to romance and passion. She’s left you breathless and blissful on kisses alone. She merely prefers more depth to the intimacy between you, something she hopes her considerate heart and comforting kiss can foster.
Valen’s favorite kisses come under noon’s light, when you’ve visited her office for lunch. It means everything to her to have these little moments throughout the day. To know that you’re thinking about her and spending your valuable time at her side. She can’t resist leaving a kiss on your lips before she sits with you, the soft scent of rose hip lingering.
Your favorite kisses are placed on your forehead. Valen’s warm hold has always made you feel safe, feel seen and heard. When she smiles softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead before tucking you closer, the overwhelming sense of home hits you. Her grin only widens if you cuddle closer, another kiss arriving on the top of your head. Valen may be a bit of a tease, but her kind heart always shines through.
ᯓ★ LoverBoy = the boy who loves me.. Tooth rotting fluff, reader is fem (she/her)!!
Valen is the type of man to bring a bouquet of flowers from wherever his last mission was headed.
He tends to choose a lot of the flowers from the dark forest and because he never learns his lesson. He always gets caught at the act and ends up having to endure an earful from Hogan.
But it's all worth it in the end when he sees that happy smile on your face the moment he gifts you the flowers.
He can have the worst day ever, but the second he sees you happy. It can INSTANTLY make him feel like a whole new man.
You just have this strong effect on him.
Just imagine him on the sofa, all worn out and mumbling to himself about how his life is the worst, but once you step in the room with a smile on your face and talking about how much you miss him.
Suddenly he's on his feet, lifting you off the ground by your waist and swinging you around as you laughed.
There was a time he started doing 20 push ups because you made him all flustered.
Now, there's no loving you if he does not spoil you.
Of course I'm not talking about him literally drizzling you in diamonds (but if you asked, he'll literally make it happen). He'd be the type to just show up with your favourite snacks or a stuff animal everytime he visits you.
He just adores your reaction.
Like "Awww you got me the thing I saw the other day!" Or "How did you know I was craving for this!!"
But the best part for him is you showering him with kisses while he has this cocky look on his face.
Because when it comes to being the best boyfriend, nobody can compete with him.
He just KNOWS he's that good at it.
That's because he understands you better than yourself sometimes.
There was a time where you both were invited to this celebration party, you couldn't explain why but you just felt extremely anxious and irritated around a bunch of strangers.
Valen could tell almost instantly, how your smile was forced and your laugh joyless. He gave the excuse that he had a weak stomach and needed to leave.
After that, he took you to a beautiful lakeside near Holistone. You could never forget the feeling of belonging when your body was enveloped by his.
He had your head rested on his chest and you could feel the vibrations from his humming. It was all too relaxing that he noticed your eyes fluttering slowly.
"Mm... fall asleep my dove, I can carry you home after" He whispers, his voice soft like feathers.
He is a loser for when you dress up.
It doesn't matter if you're wearing a tight dress, baggy clothes, or whatever. It's the effort to make yourself look so mesmerising that has him in a trance.
So when you guys go out in public, his hands are literally glued to you. And he loves it especially when he has his arm wrapped around your waist.
Not only does he love to hold you there but he'll actually tickle you by the sides if you guys happen to be disagreeing about something silly.
"Valen stop!!"
"Not if you admit to me that tomato is a vegetable!!"
Now given he's a Knight, his duty isn't just to protect and serve but to also ensure your safety.
There was this one time where you're both asleep, but suddenly he heard a noise outside. I kid you not, his reflexes kicked in and his hand is already on his sword before you could even have the time to open your eyes.
"Valen...?" You called his name, a bit startled by the sound.
"Shh... it's okay baby..." He presses a kiss to your temple.
You watch as he got out of bed and look out the window, just to find the sound being because of a flower pot falling from the neighbours window. He sighs, clearly relieved.
"It's nobody... ahhh" He stretches his back with a loud yawn. He was shirtless and in nothing but his pants so you swore if he stretches any harder you swore he was gonna pop a muscle in his bicep.
He then made his way back to bed and placed his sword back to its rightful place... then pretty much collapsing into your arms like a baby.
He'll make sure you're always well fed, giving you the first bite of his food and having you be hydrated all the time.
That's because you once fell sick when he was away on a mission, the second he came back he was mad at you for not taking care of yourself, but he couldn't stay mad because you were giving him those sad puppy eyes that ended up making him give in so easily.
You know that cape of his?
Since he loves to sneak off duty to talk to you, he'll always hide you under his cape whenever a troop patrolling passes by.
Just imagine him greeting them with a sly salute, but the moment they're out of sight, he's turning around and uncovering you from underneath his cape.
"That was a close one wasn't it dove?" He says with a soft smile.
Like I said, he's a jokester.
He'd sometimes do it at the most random time to catch you off guard.
"Man I'm so hungry I could eat my girlfriend right now" He said, acting all uninterested even though he was peeking at the corner of his eye to find your reaction.
That is you raising an eyebrow at him.
Has once made a joke meant for you but he ended up being the one who laughed the hardest, you simply just stare at him with an amused look.
I'm talking slapping the knee level of laughing.
And the joke was literally "Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? Because I like you a latte baby!"
Maybe he'll get better at it.
You know how his hair can be in his face sometimes? That's why he let's you tie it up for him.
You find it cute because he'd just sit there like a dog waiting for his owner to pamper him. Plus, he looks adorable with his hair tied up.
Lovesloveslovesloves it when you draw hearts on his hands or other places of his body before he leaves on a long mission.
Will actually go on days with it on his body and come back with the drawings in good condition.
Just imagine he's taking off his armor to treat a wound but his whole chest is just drawings of hearts, and someplace on his left side were your initials. Low-key does not care when the others tease him for it.
Because in the end of the day, he's the one in a happy relationship and he'd do nothing to change that.
"one might almost say i miss you it" + "lets make sure im with you next time, i'll get extended leave purely in the interest of companionship" + "your devoted knight" ?????
US VALEN SHIPPERS ARE BEING FUCKING FED TF
so many of these are with "!" but you Know valen was sad boi crying and internally BEGGING the magister to go on this date with him.
VALEN is aware of the fact that he knows his way around flattery, how to make people stick on to his honeyed words like bee to pollen. He has a handful of admirers for that reason — so why is it that you’re so different?
VALEN finds himself often thinking about the short times you spent together — the way your eyes would light up upon discovering a spell book in the library, the way you’d smile at him proudly when he comes back with a successful mission, the way your hands so gently guide cassadee through the complicated vines of magic — oh, how he wished he could take those hands into his.
VALEN can’t seem to get his mind off of you at all and he’s stuck. every single thought about exactly why he’s feeling like this only circles back to square one. he doesn’t understand. not at all.
but love does not need a reason to bloom into a beautiful flower. definitely not when VALEN makes his way to your abode in a rush, not when VALEN appears on your doorstep, breathless.
not when VALEN, the dashing knight of holistone known for his charm, is suddenly in front of you with eyes that so warmly stared into yours — the moonlight illuminating his face just enough to catch a glimpse of his pink-tinted cheeks, muttering out…
Hi hi!! I was scrolling through and found your stuff really cute, and this game has literally taken over my mind since EA launch. If you haven't already, could you please write for Valen, Eiland, and Balor? With the prompt of, say, they see you pretty beaten up from a day down at the mines, and they try to care for you? OR if you're feeling down, they take notice and try to give you a comfort food? Take your pick, I'm sorry this is a pretty long ask 😅 -🍓🧋
You’re all good!! I decided to go with the farmer being beaten up in the mines! But once requests open back up, let me know if you want the other one!
But HC’s under the cut!
Valen:
- Given the fact that she is the doctor? She gives you a look every time you come in with a scrape or a bruise.
- “Y/N. I thought we agreed for you to get better armor if you insist on going through the mines.”
- She still patches you up though, and if you’re dating she gives you a kiss durning the ones that especially sting before going, “That’s what you get for being reckless.”
- She’d also walk you home and make you some food before getting you tucked into bed.
- In the morning you have a health tonic next to you with a little note telling you to take a sip if you feel achy.
- No matter how many times you go down in the mines and get scrapped up, she’s always there to take care you. <3
Eiland:
- If he sees you all scrapped up? He feels AWFUL. He’s the one who pushed for the mines to be opened and now you’re hurt!
- He’d fuss over you so much. Like a little mother hen. He doesn’t let you lift a finger after you get home from seeing Valen- because yes. He makes you go to Valen.
- He would also debate on closing the mines, but after you assure him that it dramatic and you will be fine once you get an armor upgrade and a sword upgrade.
- Conveniently. The next time you go to the blacksmith, March is shoving a full suit of armor in your arms and a new sword.
- Eiland hears none of your protests and just asks you to be safe.
- …and begrudgingly it’s really nice armor so you take it.
Balor:
- He sees you covered in bruises and scrapes as you run past his cart at midnight to get home on time.
- At first he doesn’t do anything because it’s your prerogative…but damn it he really likes you so he needs to make sure you’re alive.
- The next morning he wakes up early to get over to you. He’s got bandages and some disinfectant to make sure you stay unharmed.
- He doesn’t let you get a word in, just telling you to show him the wounds so he can help.
- He would make it his mission to get some more ore from his contacts and commission March to make you a better sword.
A/N: Sorry thier kinda short! I didn’t know what else to add really! But like I said once requests open back up let me know if you want me expand!
Ok so this fic was inspired by the Silent Whispers content famine because it got me thinking like, what if the guys are waiting for us like we’re waiting for them. I posted it to the official SW discord server first and now I’m posting it here. It’s my first time writing fan fic ever so any constructive feedback is greatly appreciated 😊
Warnings: character x reader (Gn), potential ooc, potential contradictions with lore, slightly destructive coping mechanisms, fictional men being emotionally unwell for 1562 words straight, angst angst angst, very VERY mild allusions to self h@rm in Valens part (no one does SH nor is past SH implied there is just a metaphor that might use imagery reminiscent of SH), potentially unhealthy relationship dynamics, melodrama to the max, no beta we die like MC when the hourglass runs out of sand, this was written on my phone so the format might be weird
Alarik
Alarik is power given form, a mighty phoenix risen from the ashes. In his hands, anything is a tool for domination, and everything has potential just waiting to be exploited. Of course, what cannot be bent must be broken, and Alarik is more than willing to destroy in the name of conquest. He stands above all others, a god amongst mortals. The world kneels at his feet, and Alarik is an emperor in all but name. His success has cost him. Burning wings carry him higher, towards the darkness between stars, and alone he ascends. Lately, nothing has been able to keep the encroaching shadows at bay. You are Alarik’s beacon, his guiding light, and as time moves towards your return, waiting becomes unbearable. He has everything and nothing all at once because compared to the promise of your hand in his, gold is dust. Without that faint hope to cling to, nothing matters. You are his love, his adversary, his equal. Your arrival is inevitable and soon. Alarik feels it in the way he is ensnared by the thought of you, the way your absence is a physical weight on his chest, slicing between his ribs and staking him straight in the heart. He is acutely aware of the space where you are not. That empty little void by his side where you should be, where you will be soon if he can just produce a few scraps of patience. But soon isn’t good enough. Daylight feels false without you. No glow softens the darkness which grows ever deeper. Alarik barely sleeps anymore. How can he, when you are so close yet impossibly far away. There he lays, atop the blankets of his bed, forcing his lungs to work as he stares up at the ceiling. He should be able to sleep with the lights off, like an adult. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot. Desperately fumbling, Alaric finds the light switch and banishes the inky black. But the tightness in his chest only worsens, gradually constricting his heart like a python. The very sun itself could barge into his room and its radiance would not be enough. Alarik needs you. nothing else matters. No one else matters. No other light is enough. But you aren’t there. He is alone in the clutches of night, surrounded by the buzz of bright fluorescent bulbs. And in the darkness, the emperor trembles.
Theron
Theron does not like to dwell. It is inefficient, a waste of his time and talents. Though, if he’s being honest, dwelling means feeling and he has begun to hate that too. Theron spends his mornings running. Farther, faster, longer than usual. He sprints like mad until he cannot move. When running doesn’t work he climbs. “Reckless” is a kind word for it. Theron faces off against steep cliffsides with nothing but his bare hands and the threat of a plummet to stay anchored. “Keep moving” has become his mantra. Stillness invites longing and pain. Exhaustion is superior. He has begun Picking fights he can’t win and taking hits easily avoided. But even when his limbs are shaking and he can barely stand, let alone think, the lack of your presence haunts him. Theron can feel it; the call of his soulmate. Your call. Every instinct is begging him to take to the forest and run until he finds you. He has tried before, on full moons when the sheer fucking lack of you shreds every last bit of reason. On those nights Theron cannot suppress his instincts, the wolf overcomes the man he pretends to be. By dawn he is a shaking, pathetic wreck, and he is glad for the solitude of the forest floor where no one can hear him scream. Running towards you never works, so while he maintains a modicum of inhibition, he runs away. But no mountain is tall enough, no distance is wide enough to escape the maddening tug in his chest. Try as he might, Theron cannot outrun your absence. He needs you, and you are never close enough. “Soon” his heart whispers, but for all his strength Theron has never felt more helpless. What good is the power within him if he can do nothing but wait. Theron has never been a patient man, and the universe mocks him for it, holding you just out of reach. Often, he wishes to tear the moon from the sky and shatter it on the pavement. Where are you? Why can’t he find you? It should be a comfort to know how close you are, but the remaining distance is driving Theron insane. He is no stranger to pain, it has been a lifelong companion. Yet to know that you are so near, to sense you like you might be around the corner but to never have you, is a torture Theron is unsure he can endure much longer. His heart is caving in on itself, even if no one can see it, and It’s entirely your fault. Aren’t you feeling the pull like he does? Don’t you understand that he will never know peace until you take your place at his side? You are his mate, his master, he only breathes at your command. It’s a pity, little does poor Theron know that you are also his next target.
Valen
Valen is painfully self aware. His composure is a mask, and he knows it’s starting to break. Keeping the world at arms length has enabled him to walk a thin line between “cold” and “considerate” with impeccable balance. Heaven forbid anyone take a closer look, they would be quick to realize Valen is a wretched mess swept under the rug, far from the polished front he has worked tirelessly to perfect. With every day that passes, his great performance becomes more difficult. Unimportant things irritate him far more than they should. A harmless joke here, a botched coffee order there, and suddenly Valen is seething. He would never let anyone see that, of course. But it’s only a matter of time until someone notices the sudden drop in temperature or the frost creeping over his hands. There are bad days, and there are worse days. Too often the mere presence of others eats at him. Valen has begun to excuse himself from what little conversation comes his way with alarming regularity. Guilt gnaws at him for lies told at the whim of his dwindling tolerance for others. At any given moment, he will make up an excuse to lock himself in the nearest single stall bathroom. It is when Valen gives up fighting tears that freeze as they fall, when he fills the sink bowl and smothers loud sobs in the frigid water, that he understands you have ravaged him completely. He needs you. Stars above, he needs you. He needs you like the tide needs the moon, like he needs air to breathe. Without you, Valen is suffocating. As he spirals farther and deeper, he imagines it’s your hands around his throat, stealing oxygen from his lungs. Maybe this pain is necessary somehow. He can endure any suffering if he believes it’s for you. You are his god, his salvation. If torment brings him closer to you, Valen will gladly cut himself on the blade of his devotion. He will do more than just survive agony, he will embrace it as your gift to him. All the pieces are in place for your arrival. Your first meeting has been strategically planned, carefully constructed to look like mere coincidence. For the longest time, Valen has been eager for your return. He has yearned for you, prayed for you, prepared for you. Everything he does is for you and you alone. Hours have been spent meticulously organizing his home and life so you will want for nothing when he offers himself. Yet, as he feels the encroaching dawn of your arrival, fear stirs in his heart. The kind of bone deep dread that leaves Valen awake for nights on end. What if you deem him unworthy? What if you see him and choose someone better? A part of him is indignant at the idea. Who else has tried to mould themselves in the image of your desires? But then again, what if you find someone who doesn’t have to try. At the end of the day, Valen can only pretend to be perfect, and how could you deserve anything less than genuine. He used to daydream about being yours, about the brush of your sacred hands over his skin. You are his god, no one else’s. Who else could possibly worship you like you deserve? Yet, do you not also deserve more than someone who has to fake basic decency? Who, even at his best, always comes off as cold. It is so difficult to wait, but Valen needs more time. He needs to be good enough. But no force can stall your arrival. Your absence, no matter how painful, is the devil he knows. He cannot imagine what would become of him if he knew for certain that he wasn’t enough. Now, Valen prays not for your presence, but for your mercy. In the dead of night he kneels as he begs. His body is yours. His life is yours. Do with him as you wish, but please don’t cast him aside.
