#I really need some words of comfort rn if anyone is up to it... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mallory524 · 1 month ago

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Can I request thunderbolts and how they handle female reader whos feeling down? About a person thing or a mission or whatever, it doesnt matter, just maybe some hugs if its not too much to ask? I love love love your thunderbolts reactions to reader getting kidnapped!! Im also so obsessed with them rn <3

(ahhhh you're so nice thanks)

thunderbolts when you're feeling down

tags- fem!reader, comfort, hugsss, vague mentions of injuries, people are mean but the thunderbolts love you

notes- i know i've been taking so long to get back to requests i've been busy and i barely went on tumblr the last few days but i'm turning that around now let's go babyyy

Yelena

You’d gotten hurt during a mission that went very wrong and Yelena had to help you hobble out of there herself. Your body may have healed pretty quickly, but you were definitely acting differently for the next few days. You were just so … sad. It was surprising for Yelena, especially since this was by no means the worst mission you’d ever been on. Nonetheless, you weren’t your usual bright self, and Yelena knew something was eating away at you.

Yelena won’t let you pretend nothing’s wrong, of course. She eventually gets to the bottom of it, hearing you say it made you feel weak after needing so much help the other day. "Yelena, you and Ava have such cool abilities, and we’ve got three super soldiers Plus, a guy who can’t even go on these missions because he’s too powerful to be let loose-" She quickly cuts you off. "No, do not start that. Don't start comparing yourself to other people. You are one of the most capable people I know. You've saved me and the others so many times. You don't even give it a second thought," she tells you, taking your hand into hers. "This is just one of those times we get to help you. You deserve to have someone take care of you for once." Just the way she says that she gets to help you really shows how much she cares about you, and how much she wants to be there for you when you need her.

If going out and taking a brisk walk around town would make you feel better, Yelena's got her shoes on, ready to go. If you want to fall asleep watching a movie with her, she'll grab some snacks and a big blanket to wrap around you. She won't leave your side until she's seen you smile - really smile - and even then, she's still spending as much time with you as she can. No such thing as too many hugs or too many kind words for you.

Bucky

Being with a congressman, you already had a lot of events you had to attend, but now you're both in the New Avengers sort of against your will, so double that. It's constant formal events and conferences and banquets, and talking to some of the most arrogant people in the world at all of them. You try to make friends, or at least find someone to talk to, but your efforts aren't often met with the response you want. Some are nice, but a lot of these high society types look down on you. You try not to take it personally, because they look down on everyone, but it's hard not to be discouraged when you're constantly surrounded by people who believe themselves to be so much better than you. They're so cold, and Bucky is often the only real source of warmth or kindness you have all night.

After you get home after an especially exhausting evening, Bucky waits for you to get changed into your comfy clothes so he can talk to you. The moment you walk back into the room, he pulls you into a hug. "You're so patient for putting up with all these things," he mutters to you. You try to tell him that you don't mind, but he knows. These events have gotten to be draining. You finally tell Bucky how those people are really starting to bring you down. He reminds you that he loves you so much, and you shouldn't spend time worrying about anyone who can't see how wonderful you are.

Bucky will cook you some comfort food or draw you a bath if you want, or the two of you can just spend the rest of the night quietly enjoying each other's company, watching something or listening to music. He'll do anything you want. He hates when you're discouraged like this and he just wants you to feel better.

Ava

Life with the Thunderbolts/Avengerz has been great, but lately things haven't been as fun. The team is getting really busy, so you aren't taking the time to hang out anymore. It feels like when you're not on a mission, you just sit around the tower and everyone does their own thing. It was nice at first, but it's gotten lonely. You're spending all your time alone or working, and you've been in low spirits as a result.

Ava's concerned by your change in demeaner, and one day she asks you about it. When you finally open up and tell her how lonesome you've been lately, she feels terrible. "You're right, we haven't been spending enough time together. I'm sorry," she tells you, gently reaching out to embrace you. "We should be making more of an effort to hang out throughout the day. We've had a lot of big changes in our lives lately, and you shouldn't be processing it all by yourself." She sits with you for the rest of that afternoon, talking, laughing, watching tv and holding each other. When you leave the room for a moment to grab a blanket, Ava texts Yelena and asks that she make sure no one has anything planned later tonight; the team should do something together, even something simple like a movie night with everyone crammed on the couch. Ava likes her solitude, but she knows you'll love spending some quality time with the group. She doesn't want you to have to spend another night isolated in your room.

John

The mission had been pretty rough, and nearly failed completely. It was a rescue mission, and in spite of the chaos and darkness, you thought you'd figured out where the hostages were. It immediately became clear, though, that you'd fallen into a trap and led your friends right into it with you. You eventually got out of there and saved the people you were looking for, but you were all injured to varying degrees because of your mistake.

Back at the tower later, you're laying down on your bed all alone while everyone chats in the other room. John walks in, sits beside you, and asks what's going on. "I almost got us all killed, Walker. I can’t face any of them,” you say, sitting up but not turning your head to meet his eyes. Hearing you talk like this breaks his heart - and hearing your voice tremble a little like you might cry sends him into a panic. "Hey, hey it's okay! You made a mistake. Everyone does... you know I have."

"Well, Ava was pretty mad at me back there. She has every right, but you know... it hurts." He gently turns your face so he can look at you. It's sad, you're blaming yourself for everyone else's injuries, but you're looking pretty banged up yourself. "Well I'm not mad at you," he says softly. "You helped a lot of people today. It just didn’t go very smoothly. You did your best, don’t beat yourself up about this." You've got him by your side for the rest of the night. He doesn't want to rejoin the group, he just wants to be there for you. You lay there with your head on his chest, as he gently strokes your hair. He occasionally leans further down to quietly compliment you: telling you how smart you are, how beautiful you are, how strong...

Alexei

The news is rarely on in the tower. It's a lot of the same stuff over and over, and many channels don't have anything nice to say about any of you. It's usually not anything surprising or even very personal, just repetitive. A lot of "Who even are these people?" and "How can we trust them?" and "Captain America is suing those frauds " and "Remember when John Walker killed that guy?". It starts to get to you, though, when the press starts to find out more and more about your past. Turning on the tv and seeing literal footage of the things in your life that you regret the most is the worst feeling.

Alexei catches on to what's happening. You seem sort of down all the time and you're not talking very much anymore at those galas and charity events that you all have to go to, or even to your friends for that matter. You eventually confide in Alexei about how much this is all beginning to bother you. He grabs you by the shoulders, looking you in the eyes and immediately trying to cheer you up. "Do not listen to any of them. You know who you are and we all know who you are. These vultures just look for the worst in everyone. You have come a long way and you are doing your best. Do not forget that." You now have someone standing up for you whenever some reporter tries to give you a hard time. Alexei is a very friendly guy, but he can be intimidating when he needs to be. He texts you throughout the day to see how you're feeling, even after you insist you're fine. He will do anything you want to do if he thinks it'll raise your spirits, even if that's just a big hug at the end of a really tough day.

Bob

Most of the time, the team works on their own, but you do have to check in with Valentina occasionally. No one enjoys that. Her career is almost entirely in the hands of the New Avengers, so she kisses up to you when she thinks it will help her, but she's still kind of the worst. You meet up with Valentina on your own today and you try to be cordial, but she keeps throwing in little digs. She asks you if you’ve slept because “you look so tired”, she asks if that's really what you're wearing to the press conference, and before you leave, she tells you to leave the talking to her tonight. "We really want them to root for us, and with your past... well you understand,” she says. You carefully remind Valentina that she's one to talk about bad press, and that shuts her up, but her words stick with you regardless.

Bob's in the other room, listening to the constant slights. He knows all too well how Valentina can be so inviting, and then belittling a second later. It’s not clear whether or not she even realizes she's doing it. Maybe it makes her feel like she still has a little power over you and the team. You brush off all her words, but Bob knows it's gotten to be too much. Throughout that long, boring press conference, Bob keeps glancing your way, and you seem sort of off. Bob pulls you to the side afterwards and asks you about that meeting with Valentina, checking in to make sure you’re okay. You just wave it off and tell him you don't care, and that "being a little rude is definitely not the most egregious of Valentina's many crimes". He nods and takes your hands as he tells you, "I know, but I don't like hearing her talk to you that way. You’re just… you’re just so great. I don’t want you thinking otherwise. Especially not because of people like her.” You wrap your arms around him and thank him for his sweet words. Bob doesn't just move on after that, though. He knows how much impact words have. He makes sure to regularly assure you, tell you how nice you look, and comment on how kind and strong you are whenever he can. The world isn't kind and he wants to make up for it. He doesn't want you forgetting how wonderful you are.

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onetoomanyfandomfixations · 2 years ago

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Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZ��

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

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Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3

Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart

cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.”

James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know.

You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head.

“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.”

You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger.

“Sorry,” you say.

“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”

“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.”

James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”

“What did he want you to let me know?”

“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.”

You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.”

“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?”

“Better than when I woke up.”

“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”

You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench.

“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead.

It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly.

“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.”

“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.”

“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too.

You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.”

“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.”

That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.”

“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.”

James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.”

You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.”

“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?”

“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?”

James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.”

“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.”

James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.

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blackbirdsblackberries · 6 months ago

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I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 8: The Trapeze Artist's Fall

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 (You're here) - Pt 9 - Pt 10

It was his second week of school for him. In no way was he excited. Gotham was a fresh start for the young boy, private school was meant to be a fun experience - many would kill to be able to get premium education - but he finds he misses the countryside hills that he'd watch pass by as his mamă taught him how to spell and read. He misses his tată teaching him math and cool sciencey things.

He misses his family.

The school wasn't the problem, though he found he was falling behind in learning due to his homeschooled life beforehand. The problem was his classmates, the ridicule he'd get for simple slip-ups. It wasn't his fault English is his second language, it isn't his fault he slips-up.

Last Friday one boy in the class, Mac Doust, had put gum in his hair. Dick ended up crying in the bathroom until Alfred came to pick him up - not Bruce, no, Bruce was as unavailable as Dick's dead parents honestly.

Gripping the straps of his backpack Dick mutters under his breath, trying to assure himself he'd be okay. The whole weekend he had practiced hiding his accent so kids would think he was normal.

Upon walking into the school he held his head high and didn't mess around, he headed straight to class.

...

That's strange, why was the door only opened partly? Ms Xavier keeps the door wide open, always greeting Dick with a wide smile and some Romanian she had put in the effort of learning for him.

Dick opens the door hesitantly, peeking inside.

He only gets to see Mac's stupid grin before water is dumped on him, the metal bucket clanging on his head harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, he stands there, the bucket on his head as the sounds of giggles and cackles fill his ears. Warm tears contrast with the cold water soaking his face.

Dick went home early that day. The incident struck a chord in him. If he wanted to stop the bullying he had to become better than them, put in the work and effort.

He will be popular, he will be better.

He will never do that cruel prank to anyone. Never

Looking down at his phone as he walks he feels nothing but a cringing sort of pain. He stooped to a level he never thought he'd get to. It was disgusting really.

Dick feels like he's no better than Mac. That he's no hero. The video plays on loop as the man takes in the pained look on your face, he can't bring himself to look at the messages in the group chat.

They're most likely supporting it, congratulating him for doing what they all wished to do.

Hell, if he was in their place he'd probably be celebrating it too. But to be there, to be the reason you reacted that way, is sickening for the young male.

Even now all he can think about is himself, how he feels. God, how self-centered could he be? It's not like he was the victim in this.. But still, surely he can't be the true bad guy in this, right?

Dick had decided against getting driven home, he felt that if he walked to the manor in the rain it'd be enough to be even with you - look, we both ended up soaked! Everything's better now!

He chuckles under his breath at his thoughts - what would Aranea even think of him?

She'd probably be angry at him for his actions but comfort him, telling him the things he needed to hear. That it wasn't his fault, that Y/N was a bad person who deserved it.

Whatever words needed so he could sleep at night really..

Dick finally decides to exit the looping video, the image of you burnt into his mind forever.

He goes into his messages and pulls up Aranea's comm number - he had put it into his phone so they could talk off shift, something she was hesitant about but ultimately caved in.

He types out a simple message. Then another. Then another.

"Heyyyy!!! Are you busy rn??"

"It'd be cool to hang out and patrol together!!"

"Bruce doesn't have to know"

He stares at the messages, waiting for them to be marked as read. 1 minute turned into 5, then 5 turned into 10. Dick sighs and exits out of the message log, clearly Aranea is busy.

He gazes on the chat log "Y/N. 🤮"

Maybe he should message her? Say sorry and try to make it up to her.. Yeah, that's what Aranea would say to do! She was always about communication.

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm super sorry for what I did|

"I know you're probably upset, I get that. I'm|

"I know you're|

"What I did wasn't right. I'm sorry that I did that because you had a different opinion than me. I never meant to make you cry, only angry, I promise!"

Finally happy with the message he sends it off.

Only to remember the wonderful fact that your phone is fried due to the water.

Lucky him. He sighs, fed up with this bad luck streak he's been having.

Suddenly he remembers that he has money! More than you can even imagine!

He can buy a new, amazing phone to make things even. Yes, it's perfect. Surely you'll forgive him now!

He changes course and heads to the nearest electronic store, determined to make things right in his head. The purchase was swift and quick, the best phone he could find in the place.

Now, all he had to do was go to your apartment and give it to you!

Lucky him Tim leaked your address to everyone in the family as soon as he entered your apartment. So, with a high head he makes the slightly anxiety-inducing journey to you.

Knocking on the door of the apartment Dick stands straight as a board. The door opens and on the other side is a woman, she has severe eye bags and (H/C) hair. She seemed to have just gotten back from work. Her grey, lifeless eyes peer at him with suspicion before realizing who he was and smiling brightly.

"Mr Grayson! What a pleasure, is there anything you need?" She asks, Dick internally cringes, there was something about her voice that just grated against his ears.

There was just something so... Off... About her.

Still, he does what he usually does. He smiles and remains patient.

"Hello ma'am, is your daughter available? Something had happened and well.." Dick trails off, he doesn't want to get on Y/N's mother's bad side.

Her mother's eyes seem to cloud over at the mention of an incident, yet her smile remains in tact, if not strained. It's possible you told her already..

"Oh. An incident? What has she done, Mr Grayson?" Her mother asks, dark undertones coat her otherwise curious words. Dick furrows his brows slightly at the sudden change in the woman's mood. "Ah, well, it was my fault. I had played a nasty prank on her and her phone was ruined, I bought a new one to make it up to her!" He shows the brand new phone in it's box.

The woman doesn't look impressed, still, she smiles and hums. "Hm. Well that's lovely! Would you like to come inside? She isn't home currently but I'm sure she'll be home soon."

Something in Dick tells him not to go inside. Something was wrong. Yet, he reminds himself that he is a hero, if anything happens he will be prepared.

So, he heads inside, trailing behind the woman as he takes in the dungeon-like interior. "It's a... Lovely place, ma'am" Dick says, hoping to seem polite. The woman scoffs.

"M/N, my name is M/N. No need for such formalities!" The woman hurriedly states before flicking her hand dismissively "Y/N's room is the second door. You can wait there, or, if you want, you can hang around me!" She smiles sweetly, too sweetly, disgustingly sweetly. It reminds him of eating giant spoons of brown sugar.

He smiles politely, trying not to show his discomfort. "I'll just wait in her room for her..!" He hurries to Y/N's room, shutting the door once he's in. That woman gave him the creeps.

He looks around the small room, holy shit, no wonder you're always so pissy! He'd be pissy too if his room was just a bit bigger than a school storage closet!

The man knows he shouldn't snoop, he's done enough damage. But, maybe, if the guilt doesn't settle he can use information gathered here to help!

Dick makes his way to the chest and looks around, picking up an engineering bit, he isn't too into the whole mechanical side of things so there was no name he could pin it to.

Placing it back he moves to sit on the bed and wait. As he sits on the bed his eyes are drawn to a floorboard that seems to stand out from the rest. He kneels on the floor and digs his nails into the floorboard.

He starts to lift it up when..

RINGGGG

His phone goes off, he scrambles to answer the call, not checking who the caller was.

"Dick? Dick, okay, you're the only one that has answered!"

It was Duke, he sounds frantic. What happened..?

"Duke? What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"No, no, something bad's happened! Steph, Cass and I were at a cafe and Y/N and her friends were there as well but some waitress had messed up the orders and Y/N had an allergic reaction - or something like that!" Duke rambles, his words slurring together in a rush.

Dick's eyes widen and he feels the air leave his lungs, forgetting about the floorboard and quickly leaving the room. He'll put the new phone on your bed for when you return.

He brushes past M/N and leaves the apartment. Holy shit your luck was bad, he couldn't help but think.

"Okay, stay calm, are you guys at Gotham City Private Hospital or Gotham City Public Hospital?"

"Private."

"I'll be there in half an hour, it'll be okay."

With that he hangs up and runs out of the apartment complex.

Like hell was he about to let anything bad happen to you before he could make things right!

Taglist:

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dediezzyyy · 17 days ago

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0.1 I have never failed to fail.

Aizawa x platonic student!reader

Synopsis: Father's Day is right around the corner. And you can't stop thinking about how you wish that your sensei was your dad.

Cw: angst, loneliness, insecurities, thoughts of suicide, reader has no father, some cursing, I'm going through the feels rn. This takes place after the war, so reader and classmates are second years.

Nirvana song: you know you're right.

Lithium m.list

It was too much. The yearning, the what-ifs, everything.

Every time you looked at your sensei, your heart throbbed in pain.

Was it too much to ask? Was it too much to wonder if in another universe you had one?

Was it too much to ask if it could be him?

You never had a father. And you almost hated how much it left an impact on you. You didn't really care if people knew that you were fatherless, but you didn't really want to show that it hurt at times.

Your mother was a hard worker, and you loved her to death. So you understood whenever she had to work late and wasn't always able to share time with you. You became used to the quiet dinners at night at a young age, staying awake so that your mother didn't have to come back home in a dark house. You didn't want her to feel alone, and her tired but grateful smile never ceased to make you swing your legs in happiness.

You worked hard to get into UA, and you trained your quirk to the best of your ability. You didn't want to be a burden, so you did your best to help out, and when you got into 1-A, everybody appreciated your generosity and kindness. It made you happy, being able to please your beloved classmates as they spoke words of appreciation towards you. Hah, even Bakugou gave you a nod and a lingering gaze whenever you helped out.

Yet there was one person you oh so dearly wanted to impress, to prove your worth to.

To prove that you were enough. And that person was Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher. He was strict and hardworking as he almost always seemed cold; expressions blank and tone dead. Yet you saw how he cared, how he patted his students' heads when they tried their hardest or gave advice whenever they needed it. You memorized the way he fought to defend your class at the USJ incident.

And the paranormal liberation war, the boss battle at the end of the war, and-

How useless were you that you couldn't even help the man who you dreamed of being your father figure?

You always degraded yourself for not being able to help, for not being able to do something at least.

He was rather cold with you, not providing any of that small warmth he gave to his other students. With you, he acted as if you were merely a stranger he had to teach. Those dark eyes squinting in what you believed was disappointment whenever you messed up. Oh, how you loathed yourself for not being better.

You were hard on yourself from time to time, and that made you struggle more during training and academics. You didn't want to be useless, yet you couldn't really rely on anyone without showing vulnerability.

Vulnerability didn't feel comfortable. It felt weird and suffocating and like your chest was being pried open for everyone to see what you really felt on the inside-

Solitude felt safer. And right now? You were in the comfortable solitude of your room; inside while your classmates were all out in the common room preparing a small celebration for Aizawa for Father's Day.

Yaoyorozu had asked you if you wanted to participate, the others looking at you hopefully as you always had creative ideas and good taste. But you refused, said that you were feeling sick as you retreated to your room in a state of panic. Your panic seeming more like a dead dread to the the watchful eye.

You felt bad of course, you could practically feel the way their eyes deflated as you rushed out of the room. Your guilt only feeding into that dark space that you refused to acknowledge. That dark space that only grew the more you chose to ignore it.

You know that you're not the strongest. Or the smartest or the prettiest, but you helped at least, right?

You remember how Bakugou scoffed at your excuse, muttering something under his breath as Ashido and Kirishima raised their eyebrow. Yaoyorozu just seemed saddened while Shouto tilted his head in worry, reaching his hand out to ask if you were okay but you were already gone before they could ask questions.

That was a week ago, and your classmates were waiting for Aizawa to come back to surprise him.

Everyone was downstairs, dressed nicely as they wore party hats and hid in the dark. And you? Well, you were in the darkness of your room as you stared at the ceiling, wondering where was your place after all of this.

Why were you here again?

Oh, right. Because you worked hard. And your mother worked every day to put food into your tummy and to make sure that you had a happy childhood. And you were damned if you weren't gonna make her proud.

But for some reason, no matter what you did, you couldn't make him proud.

You tilt your head to the side, staring at your door and the light that illuminated from underneath.

Aizawa was a rather tricky person to decipher, and he was known to be strict while expelling students from UA. Yet throughout the school year, he demonstrated his love for your class, even if it seemed rather harsh at times. And harsh he was with you.

But not in a way that was loud and rough, but in the way his eyes gleamed with disappointment whenever you made an embarrassing mistake during tests, in the way he let out a heavy sigh when you slipped or let your guard down during training. No, his harshness towards you was subtle, and bitter, leaving you to self-loath yourself whenever he gave you criticism.

Whispers were being muttered, as well as the front doors that had just been opened. Aizawa just came back from patrol.

Your heart rate spiked, and your breathing became uneven as you started to become conscious of your body, of the fact that you were alive. Yet your mind wasn't present-

Cheers erupted and the sound of party blowers became heard through the building. And suddenly everyone cheered 'Happy Father's Day' to Aizawa, while you lay in your own solitude and cage. How pathetic.

You let out a choked sob, tears blurring your vision as your chest heaves. Fuck, were you a mess. You couldn't even say happy Father's Day without being tormented by your own guilt and thoughts.

You shut your eyes closed, tears welling as your throat burned. You could hear the muted cheers and laughter, the sound of cameras clicking and pictures being taken. And you weren't there.

It's not like you would've made a difference anyway, you weren't really important. No one noticed you.

So why did it fucking hurt? Why did you wish he noticed? Why do you want to be selfish and make this day miserable when it was supposed to be happy? Why did you care so fucking much-

You gasp, choking back tears as you sit up on the bed and hug yourself, silencing your cries so that no one would hear you; so that you wouldn't ruin the party. So that no one would care and that hopefully he wouldn't notice-

You sobbed, gritting your teeth as you hugged yourself tighter. Cold, was your embrace. Just like your childhood. Dead, did your heart feel. Just like the love your father had for you-

Stop being selfish! This isn't about you! It's about Aizawa-

A sob escapes your throat, feeling your body tremble at the reminder. This was about how you didn't grow up with a father so you cope by imagining scenarios where in an alternate reality he is your father. You only yearn for a father figure because a small part of you is still a lonely fragile child who thought and felt too much-

Get over it, you tell yourself. Nails digging into your palms to create some sort of relief from this unbearable pain called sorrow.

You force yourself to breathe, even if it hurts and you wish you didn't- frustration building up in your stomach as you wipe off the tears on your face. You need air because your lungs hurt too much to do it by itself. Your palms cover your ears, and you find relief in being able to block out all of the joy and laughter from downstairs.

You sigh, closing your eyes as you lean your head back on the board. Yet you could still hear them, their voices and their joy and your breathing-

You need air. You need to get out-

You kick your legs off the bed, stumbling as you struggle to maintain balance. God, did you feel dizzy.

You somehow manage to drag yourself into the bathroom, hands gripping the sink as your eyes flick towards the mirror. Your curls were messy, and you had bags under your eyes. Some scars decorated your face, along with the moles scattered across your body. Your face twists in anguish, only seeing the resemblance you had with Aizawa. Yet you weren't his child, and you never would be.

Your brows furrow, eyes full of pain as you stare at the reflection. Hands struggle to open the tap as you try to breathe, letting the cold water stabilize you and bring you out of your thoughts.

Fuck, if you kept feeling this way you were going to trigger your quirk. Your stomach drops at the thought, remembering all the pain you felt with activating your quirk: adrenaline. It's power making you feel alive yet dead at the same time. Was this the definition of a blessing and a curse?

You shake your head, splashing water on your face as your fingers brush against the scars that run along your right cheek; starting from your temple and all the way to your cheekbone, the lower one slightly shorter than the top one.

"Wow, Y/nnie! You're scar sorta looks like the one Aizawa Sensei has!" Mina gushed, leaning closer to your face as you had came back from the hospital after the war had finished.

You shudder at the memory, deadpanning to the mirror as you walk out. The only light in the room was the one that gleamed through the bottom of the door, and the curtains were slightly open which let the sunlight shine through the cracks. You sigh, looking toward the plants scattered across your dorm as you let your fingertips brush against one of the leaves.

"I'm sorry I haven't been paying much attention to you, I promise I'm going to do better," you mutter, eyes softening as you caress the leaves of your cast iron plant: skillet. (Yes, you named him that, don't hurt his feelings.)

You sigh, walking past the plants as your fingers grasp the handle of the screen door, sliding it open as you let the sunlight shine on your eyes. Your lashes flutter, adjusting to the glow of the sun as you step out and slide the door shut behind you.

A small grin makes its way onto your lips, and for a moment you forget about all the one-sided drama going on in your life right now. "God, you're so beautiful," you rasp, voice merely a whisper as you admire the sun.

You walk towards the railing, resting your forearms against it to admire the sun for just a moment. Aizawa likes to watch the scenery, you think. It seems to always bring him some sort of peace. Tears slightly swell in your eyes, and suddenly your heart starts to hurt.

'What if in another universe, he let me watch the sunsets with him?'

Your hands grip the railing, knuckles turning white as if it's a lifeline. You're fine, no one is going to see you as long as you time it right. You just need some fresh air, the others will understand, right?

You don't let yourself think any more, taking a deep breath as you throw your legs over and jump- you land on the ground swiftly, hiding near the bushes and away from the windows. You exhale, slowly peeking through to see if anyone is nearby, and you think your heart sinks at the sight in front of you.

You can see Ashido smiling, jumping up and down as she takes pictures of Kirishima and Uraraka making Aizawa wear a party hat, a small smile gracing his face as he's surrounded by his beloved students. Ouch.

You pry your eyes away from the godforsaken sight. You check your surroundings, the light of the common rooms glowing through the windows as you don't dare look inside again. Because if you do, you're most definitely going to break apart and cry in the bushes.

You deadpan at the thought, hands pulling the hood of the jacket over your head, quietly moving away from the window as you walk away from the building.

It's slightly breezy, but otherwise, it's warm and quiet outside. The sun is slowly setting, and you make a mental note to come up with an explanation of where you were when you came back from your walk.

Your feet carry you out of the UA grounds, wandering out as you keep your head down. The hangover of your breakdown still weighing down on you. It was so easy to disappear, so easy to blend in the background as you observed everyone else smile and laugh. You always stayed on the sidelines, watching as everyone else was so full of emotion while you were numb.

Numb, you feel. Like those quiet dinners late at night, numb like your brain and heart as you stand by yourself and watch the other kids play on the playground. Numb, like your memories every time you look back to the past.

The city lights and traffic provide safety- knowing that everyone is too busy with something else to acknowledge you. And you breathe, deeply, feeling the bitterness of the relief it brings you.

Here in the city, no one cared. Not Ashido not Kirishima, or Aizawa, or even that stranger you saw in the reflection of the glass in stores-

Your head turns towards the children with their parents, hugging and smiling at their fathers as they celebrate this holiday. You pause, watching from the other side of the sidewalk and through the cars, they seem so happy. Like they have nothing to worry about. And a part of you envies that. Wishing that little you could have a smidge of what they had.

But oh, well. You guess it wasn't meant to happen in this life. But if you couldn't have that, then at least those innocent little children could, you think, a tired smile smearing your lips.

Oh, you were always so selfless. Putting others before yourself, and perhaps that would be your downfall. Yet you didn't mind, not when you were able to see others live their lives in peace.

You move your foot in front of the other, forcing yourself to keep walking as you head to a park nearby. It's quiet there, unknown to most, and perfect for you and your friend named solitude.

The breeze flows through you gently, and you let it help you breathe; your lungs and throat still hurt from crying, and you still feel a bit weak. But you're almost there, and you'd be able to rest once you get there.

The park is empty, except for the occasional bunny wandering through and the fireflies. It's peaceful, you think. And you don't hesitate to sit on the bench near the ponds and trees. Your hand slides across the polished wood, sitting down as you lean back and rest.

The sky is dark, with the stars glimmering around like little freckles. It was peaceful, alive yet dead if it wasn't for your slow breathing.

You close your eyes, leaning your head back as you let your mind drift back to your sensei. Oh, fuck-

You knew he didn't care about you, that part was obvious. So how were you going to stop caring about him? How did he make it seem so easy?

Everyone knew that Aizawa could be harsh. Hell, you've witnessed it happen with Bakugou and Midoriya. You saw his worry hidden in frustration, his protectiveness masked behind his stoic demeanor. Yet he didn't give you anything. Not even the infamous criticism that led to advice and hidden comfort. All he gave you was his emptiness and disappointment.

And fuck, did that feel too familiar.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair as a habit. You couldn't keep going like this. You couldn't keep drowning yourself like this, chasing after the validation of a man who didn't even see you as more than another mere student- a blank face.

You couldn't keep up with this. With him, with your classmates and all of this fucking angst and drama. You couldn't force your quirk to he better in seconds, you couldn't force yourself to be enough.

Hot tears start to blur your vision, but you don't stop. Even if your heart hurts too much-

So if you couldn't be enough, you were going to become a burden. Which led to you slacking and holding the others back, which would eventually become a problem. A sob escapes your throat, suddenly feeling the crushing realization of what you always did whenever you had problems.

You got rid of them.

You close your eyes, a tear sliding down your cheek and falling onto your knee. And suddenly, you're reminded of what Aizawa called his students. Problem children. Yet it was laced with a hidden affection that everyone could feel, everyone but you. You weren't one of them. You were just a problem.

Oh, but how badly did you want to be his child.

You sigh, pulling out your phone from your pocket as you ignore the text messages your classmates sent you, probably asking where you were or if you were feeling better. It won't matter soon, you think. You'll already be gone by the time they realize what you're doing.

You pull up to Principal Nezu's email, fingers trembling as you struggle to type the message. You gulp, trying to stay stable as you feel the reality of your decision.

No one would care. They all have each other, anyway. The class was big enough already, and even Mineta was a part of them. But you? Where did you fit? You weren't part of Bakugou's gang, or Midoriya's friend group. You weren't part of anything. You were just...you. You with your drifting mind and loner tendency. Fuck, even Hagakure was more seen than you were.

You frown, eyes narrowing as you finish typing the email, your thumb trembling as it hovers over the send button. Were you really going to do this just because you let your emotions get the best of you? And for a moment, your mind drifts to your life throughout the years, wandering, hoping for someone to be by your side.

Shoto. Oh, fuck, what about Shoto?

Shoto, who you have bonded with ever since you got into UA. Shoto, who stood by your side as you went through the side effects of your quirk. Shoto, who had grown to care for you and tell you about his past. Shoto, who always had time with you. He always ate with you; walked with you to school, and spoke about everything and nothing with you. He had made you feel seen and cared for, and you believed you did the same to him. But he had his friends now, you reminded yourself. He was happier than before, and you could let yourself ruin that for him.

And soon enough, he didn't have time for you anymore.

Your eyes stare at the screen, letting your mind drift to all the times you were cast aside- as if you were merely someone who wasn't even alive.

Ashido and all the other girls had requested your help for a party they were hosting for your class, and they had wanted your opinion on a few things. The pinkette smiles at you, hands behind her back as she gives you puppy dog eyes. "Y/nnie!! Which dress should I wear for the party? I've already picked out this super cute teal one but this other one is an adorable sundress that-" "Wait, there's a party happening? Why wasn't I invited?" You ask, raising a brow as you see the girls tense and look away awkwardly. Uraraka clears her throat, a guilty expression on her face as she rubs her nape. "Well, we didn't think you would want to go! You're always so busy with other things that we didn't want to bother you!" Oh. Your shoulders slightly slump, but you only smile and give a nod. "Well, you're not wrong," you laugh, forcing yourself to rub it off as they look at each other hesitantly before giving you small apologetic smiles. And right after you left, not even five minutes later they began rambling about what they were going to wear and who they thought was going to come.

That moment was one of many, a few days later Ashido posted pictures of the party your class had, and everyone was there. For heaven's sake, even Monoma and the 1-B students came.

And you couldn't even start with the relationship you had with your sensei. If you could even call it that. It was always the heavy sighs and looks of apathy, never giving you eye contact, and always the cold shoulder.

You had just finished training, and your hands rested on your knees as you panted. The weather was scorching in the harsh heat, and training wasn't exactly easy since you had to skip breakfast to not be marked as late. Aizawa strolled towards you, and you internally groaned, already preparing yourself for the lecture. "You're weak, L/n. If you're weak, you can't fight. And if you can't fight, you're practically dead in the first few seconds into battle-" You couldn't hear any more of what he said after that, ears already ringing as you tried to blink away your blurred vision. Your throat feels dry, and you're barely able to realize the moment Aizawa places his hand on your arm. "L/n," he rasps, eyes darting over your pale face. Aizawa sighs, removing his hand as you internally wince in humiliation. "Go back inside, your training is over." And fuck, would it add more to your embarrassment if you cried in front of him.

You swallow the lump in your throat, staring numbly at the screen as you realize it didn't matter if you cared for them, they didn't care for you.

And Aizawa only saw a student who was too weak to become a hero. He only saw a failure.

And so, a failure you will be. You press send, and for the first time, breathing doesn't hurt.

You let out a sigh, shoulders relaxing as you rub your forehead. Sure, this seemed incredibly selfish and petty, and maybe a bit shocking, but it was for the best. If you kept going, you were going to die. You knew that you weren't strong enough, not strong enough to fight to keep on living-

Your shoulders slump, jerking as you sob silently. You remember the war. The horror, the gore, the fear- you remember the pleasure that came with the thought of dying. And you remember the moment you were so close to death.

You were aiding Aizawa on the battlefield, but you became separated from him when Shigaraki came. You had hit your head against the pavement, and you couldn't see your sensei anymore. Blood had already begun to drip down your face, but you didn't seem to care as you stared at him. Stared at the man who was the cause of all this. The man who could kill you by the touch of his hand. You were in utter fear and awe, to say the least. You were so close to Shigaraki, so, so close to the hands of death that you even began to step towards him in a daze. Shigaraki had noticed you, and a wicked grin appeared on his lips as he began to come towards you- but a hand had gripped your shoulder in an almost hurtful grip and ripped you back with complete force, dislocating your shoulder in the process- it was Aizawa. And it seemed that he was beyond disappointed. He was furious. And that had scared you more than death did. He stared at you as if you were insane, and he began yelling at you out of anger and lectured you with a harsh tone- but you were already in too much pain to remember what he said; silent tears were dripping down your face as you whimpered in pain, your hand holding your shoulder as blood continued to drip from your head onto your face. He hurt you, and it looked like he was too busy yelling at you to notice what he did. You don't remember much after that, only staring in horror of the empty space where his lower leg should have been. He had cut his own leg off, and he had to save you because you got too close to getting yourself killed.

After that battle, you didn't want to visit him at the hospital. You couldn't. It was practically a suicide for your mental health if you did. Your shoulder was still healing, and you had a severe concussion from bashing your head against the pavement. But most of all, you didn't want to face his wrath; his disappointment. His disappointment in you.

You blink back tears, hugging yourself in attempt for a pathetic comfort. A sob chokes from your throat, body trembling as you caress your arms with your hands in a soothing manner; the way a loved one would in attempt to comfort you- the way your sensei would never comfort you.

"It's okay, you're okay, just breathe. I'm here, I'm here, I know, please. Please, I'm right here-"

You whisper to yourself, trying to comfort the little child inside of you as you rock back and forth, the night sky watching you as the moon shines, as if watching over you, making sure you know that you're not alone.

The sobbing only becomes harder, your body shaking in an attempt to breathe and calm down. It was all too familiar. Wasn't it supposed to get better? Wasn't it supposed to be different this time? Weren't you supposed to no longer feel like a fucking outsider?

You exhale shakily, leaning your head back as your throat burns. Tears slide down your cheeks, and your eyes open slightly. The stars are practically shining across the sky, and you take a moment to admire them and move past your grief. If you died, would you be able to become one of them?

Your phone chimes, and you glance down, seeing your screen pop open. It's Principal Nezu, replying to your message and asking what your reasons are for leaving. You sigh, wiping your face as you grab your phone and start to type.

Principal Nezu:

Hello, L/n. Before I approve your request, I would like to make sure that it is not due to the mental or physical struggles of the war. We would gladly appoint professional help and assign a trusted adult to help you if you are in need.

Your eyes squint at the screen, heart turning numb as you move your fingers to reply.

You:

Hello, Principal Nezu! No, I am not struggling at all, I just don't believe that I will be able to continue going to UA because of my lack of progress. I don't want to tarnish the school's reputation, so I would like to take my leave if that is alright. And don't worry! I just believe that after the war, my perspective has changed, and I believe that I can succeed in a different path than the hero course.

Polite, cheery, believable. That was all you need as you thankfully got his approval without him questioning any more.

Principal Nezu:

Well, alright. It does sadden me to see you leave the school, but I shall let Aizawa Sensei know about your departure and your reasoning.

Your eyes widen in panic, quickly typing as you hope it won't be too late.

You:

Oh, and one more thing! I hope it isn't too much, but please don't tell Aizawa about it. I know he has a lot on his plate and I believe it would be best if it wasn't announced.

Nezu agreed to your request, leaving you feeling relieved that it is almost over. The hard part was getting your stuff out of your dorm room without having to confront everyone. It's not like they would care, anyway. Most of the class ignored you whenever you weren't giving a helping hand.

Damn, were you just something they used whenever they needed?

Notifications start to buzz in your phone, yet you don't bother to answer them. Tomorrow's the weekend, which means that you can go home and be with your mother.

Fuck, did you miss home.

Your eyes drift upward, gazing at the sky as you sigh. It hurt. It fucking hurt to leave and have a small part of you hope that someone will notice, someone like him.

You rub your forehead, trying to ignore the heartache in your chest. He doesn't care, and maybe that's for the best. You exhale, the weight lifting off of your shoulders but still leaving you crushed.

The stars shine above you, and the moon illuminates the night sky peacefully. You look up, eyes puffy and throat tight, but you know you'll be alright. You think about all of the things that have happened in the past year, and how much things have changed. Was it all going to be worth it? What would your classmates think of your departure? Would Shouto care? How would your sensei react?

You chuckle, swaying your legs back and forth as you breathe. This was basically like disowning yourself from your teacher who you wished was your father figure. A one-sided, parental figure-child relationship?

You scrunch your nose at the thought, deciding that you would think more about the title of your issues later.

A/n: hiii!! Part one is finally finished! And I know there was a lot to unravel in this part, and I hope it wasn't too much! Hopefully, you guys like this, and the next one is going to focus on Aizawa's pov so things are gonna start getting angsty? I'll figure it out, lol. :)

#dadzawa #dadzawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #gn reader #i love nirvana #mha fanfiction #aizawa x daughter reader #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha #i know this might be too much but i was listening to angsty music and then i was thinking about my daddy issues and i wanted to write smth #nirvana is an amazing motivation for writing angst #dad aizawa #dadzawa would heal me #but he would also completely destroy me and make me wanna cry

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metallic-t4ste · 1 month ago

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Hello! I was searching for twst blogs and i really want to make a request!

Can i ask romantic headcanons of malleus, Vil, silver and jamil with a shy sweet s/o that has suffered from harrasment/bullying? S/o always been a easy target for jokes from other students bc of their shy and collected personality but at some moment s/o breaks down crying and asks for help/advice from their boyfriend, i really love angst with fluff and comfort.

If this is too much you can reject this request!

Sorry I'm so late... Thanks for the request tho it was quite fun actually. There's no proof read tho. It's short because I'm not feeling good rn sorry

Malleus

You're literally so sweet, you are literally the most important precious little thing in his life.

So he is absolutely LIVID at the fact that these meaningless lowlifes are harassing you.

(he is literally planning for you to be the future queen so the absolute AUDACITY they have)

Before he does anything he wants to make sure you're alright first the idiotic scoundrels shall be spared for the time being

Seeing you cry is absolutely heartbreaking

He comforts you holding you silent listening patiently at you talking

Stroking your hair and back

He tells you that you should not let them get to you

(he has never been bullied a day in his life well expect for Leona ig... so he's not to sure on what to do. But he shall try his best)

He knows you're shy but he truly believes you can over come it and stand your ground

He tells you to try telling and authoritative figure or them off or ignoring them maybe

He also suggests letting him deal with it

If he so happens to over hear you being the butt of some bad jokes he would immediately step in to defend you without hesitation

He just wants you to be able to breathe without some jerk bullying you for just existing

If you're an NRC student

He becomes more protective of you after that always following you around

Giving anyone who even dares to even snicker at you, the most piss off death glare ever

Yeah no one messing with you after that

Vil

Vil is not having it

*gasp* how dare they!?

Aren't ugly ppl irl supposed to be humble or something!?

Seeing you walk in his room with tears in your beautiful eyes was horrible

The fact that you were being basically a punching bag for someone's mean little jokes was unacceptable

He even stops doing his makeup mid way

You ask him for advice for you to stop getting bullied and he starts of by saying to not change anything about yourself

You're literally so perfect they're obviously the problem

Vil would sit you down on his bed and let you talking

Caressing your hand and wiping you tears being ever so gentle

He makes sure to listen up real good,

After you've calmed down

Vil would advise you to take a stand and even tell someone about it

Make sure to take as much distance as possible and ignore them no matter what even when it's easier said than done

He knows how you can be shy so he doesn't blame you if you're hesitant to stand up for yourself

But that doesn't mean he won't just let you deal with all that harassment without a word

He reassures you that this is what needs to be done

And even helps you along the way he wants to make sure you learn how to stand your grown and make boundaries

He's probably talking so much shit about them

Silver

Plus you where crying so it was obvious

He knew something was up when you busted into his room (which made him wake up)

And you no longer had your collected demeanor

Caressing your back and silently listening to you talk about your problems

He makes sure to give you advice

Like Vil he tells you to stand your ground and tell the teacher

He wants to reassure you that everything will be alright

He is very calm and patient and he wants to make sure you're ready first

He might even teach you a little self defense just to make sure you're not gonna get hurt

If you're a student at NRC

On one of the occasions we was awake during break

He even noticed about you being targeted for people's entertainment

And was quite displeased with it

He calmly (slightly passive aggressive) told those bullies off and broth you with him somewhere else

We would not stand for his S/O getting bullied

And is very quick to defend them but he also wants his S/o to be able to stand up for themselves

Jamil

He is very upset why would anybody bully you!?

You're so sweet send whoever it is sending them to the guillotine

He would pat your back and listen to you while nodding

And giving you some tissues

(if you find comfort in food)

He'd definitely cook you up your fav comfort dish to help you out

He wants you to feel safe

He suggests confronting them head on but scratches it when he thinks about how you can be quite shy

He opted for telling the teachers instead

If you're an NRC student

He tried to help you confront them

(he might us his special magic on them to tell them to just leave you alone)

He tries telling you to stay close to him and not be afraid to call him if you're having any trouble

#silver x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twst requests #twst x reader requests

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gabbytvclarke · 3 months ago

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The dog and the postwoman PART 5 (FINALE): To the moon and back

Part one here! ♥ Part two here! ♥ Part three here! ♥ Part four here!

• Summary: Arthur and reader's relationship blossoms over the months as they struggle to keep it a secret, and dating rumours get in the way. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader, italianbaach x reader??, (Also friend!basically all the other youtubers in this circle) • Smut, angst, fluff, and insta AU • Warnings: a tiny bit of relationship anxiety/jealousy, secret relationship, swearing, harassment, innuendoes, and LOTS more sex (including dominant Arthur 👀) • Word count: 8,417 words • Note 1: Ngl I'm not sure if I like this one... • Note 2: A slightly different writing style, but I thought it worked on this part • Note 3: Sorry for the late post, I was on holiday then got really sick :(

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NOW:

@ Twitteruser1: HAS ANYONE SEEN ARTHURS VIDEO??????? @ Twitteruser2: y/ntv is real FUCK everyone who denied it ↳ @ Twitteruser3: im SO HAPPY FOR THEM

@ Twitteruser4: Um y/n's instagram post!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm DYING

@ Twitteruser5: I'm about to lose it #y/ntv

@ Twitteruser6: Arthurs latest video AHHHHH I’m crying rn ↳ @ Twitteruser7: VIDEO?? you need to see their instas

3 MONTHS BEFORE NOW:

Arthur grumbles as he rolls over to his left with an outstretched arm, his eyes flutter open as he feels an empty space. It's been a while since he's awoken alone, spending time together in secret means that sleepovers are the safest choice. He thanks his luck that his roommates are always travelling for brand deals. He sits up and rubs his eyes, his ears focusing on one of his favourite songs: anything that y/n is singing. "Hm?" he hums to himself near silently. He pulls himself out of bed but can't see the grey hoodie he'd thrown on his desk chair the night before, he chuckles to himself as he grabs another hoodie and follows y/n's melody.

He finds her in his living room, humming away while carefully packing some of his small house plants, as Arthur is in the middle of moving into the same building as Isaac. Sneaking up behind her, he wraps his arms around her waist and plants a sweet kiss to the side of her neck, causing her to jolt slightly.

"Jesus!" She gasps, following with a small giggle. She puts the parcel tape down and swivels to return Arthur's hug. "Good morning sunshine!" She chirps before pecking a small kiss to his cheek.

"G'morning! Nice hoodie." He smirks back, as she steps back and curtsies. "You know you don't have to do all this." He gestures to the array of boxes, some packed, some half full, and some empty, but the bags under his eyes suggest otherwise. Arthur's been juggling video recordings, podcast recordings, and preparing to move for the past month and it seems to be taking a toll on him.

"I don't have to, no, but I want to baby." She replies softly, not even thinking. She doesn't even notice the word rolling off her tongue so easily. Arthur does and he can't stop the childlike smile that creeps up on his face. "What's that face for?" She asks with amusement.

"Nothing, nothing. You're just adorable." He shrugs sheepishly. Despite how comfortable he is around her, she still makes him shy at times. Even though it's been 46 days since that fateful time at his flat; the breakfast, the food fight, the love making. Not like he's counting the days or anything. Then he gets an idea. "Do you want some pancakes?" He asks warmly.

"Reminiscing are we?" She teases, catching him off guard, his once relaxed eyes now full of surprise. She giggles and plays with his hair, eliciting a laugh from him. "Yes to pancakes, but let's share the workload this time." She squeezes his hand as they head to the kitchen area.

The pancakes are once again a success, although not as fancy as last time due to Arthur's smaller contributions to the flat's food budget. There's also a clear difference between the one's flipped by Arthur and the ones flipped by y/n.

As they start eating in a contented silence, Arthur stares ahead of him and begins to frown without realising, catching y/n's attention. "What's wrong Arthur? Is there a pube in your pancake?" She jokes. He fights every fibre of his being to not spray his mouthful, swallowing it whole and coughing as he laughs. He takes a sip of his water and clears his throat.

"Wow. You never seize to amaze me, y/n" He beams, lightly thumping his chest.

"Sorry I almost choked you, but are you OK?" She asks, her smile shrinking as anxiety creeps in. She'd been enjoying the silence, but now she's worried that perhaps his busy schedule could be making him rethink their time together. They’ve spent so much time with each other recently, but maybe he’s getting bored?

"It's OK, I'm OK, I just..." He trails off as his eyebrows knit together again. Her lungs begin feeling tight. She thinks about how maybe moving out of his flat isn't the only chapter in his life that he's closing. Arthur's eyes blink from his pancakes to y/n's face.

"Y/n, am I your boyfriend?" He asks with innocence and sincerity. She's taken aback, the mouthful of food she'd crammed in was meant to stop her from crying not grinning. Her eyes are wide as she chews quicker to swallow and answer.

"Sorry, bit of a weird and sudden question, I know." He chuckles, “I’ve just been wondering recently, that’s all.” He shoots her a gentle smile, nervously waiting for her answer. She gulps.

"Do you want to be?" She asks sweetly, trying not to smile too hard in the moment.

"Very much so." Arthur replies with a fast nod. He sets his knife and fork down, knits his fingers together and rests his head on them. "But it depends, how does that hoodie feel? Like boyfriend material perhaps?" He cocks his eyebrow as he watches her lips curl up more.

She giggles before rubbing her hand along the sleeve, pulling an intrigued face. "Wow, you know, I think it does." Without hesitation, Arthur's chair scrapes along the floor as he rushes to hug her, rocking her back and forth slowly with a Cheshire Cat grin. She scoops her arms up and behind to hug him back, unprepared for such a welcomed attack.

"I can't wait to tell Bach and the others, you’re finally my girlfriend!" He exclaims in her ear, pulling away to look at his beautiful girl, his eyes twinkling. She feels ridiculous for doubting him, for thinking he'd allow the stress of moving to cloud his feelings towards her. His happiness in that moment, the emphasis on 'finally', the way she could swear she saw tears building in his gorgeous eyes. She stands to her feet and pulls him into a proper hug.

"I'm the happiest man on the planet!" His voice cracks as he boasts, his head nestled in her neck as she feels the heat of his cheeks burning against her. "I'm so happy too Arth!” Y/n replies, also fighting tears. She cups his jaw as he locks eyes with her again and pulls him down to give him a loving kiss, which he returns enthusiastically. He begins giving her small pecks, whispering “My beautiful girl” and “My darling” in between, until a familiar poking feeling in her hip shifts the mood.

“Mr Frederick, what’s going on?” Y/n smirks as she slowly pulls away, looking straight into his chocolate eyes.

“Oh… I guess I got too excited, I’m sorry.” He chuckles, heat radiating from his face even more as he shyly looks away. Still gazing up at him, y/n slowly sinks to her knees, her hands gliding down his bare legs as she goes. “…Y/n!” Arthur exclaims, in shock.

“What’s wrong? Doesn’t my boyfriend deserve a treat?” She quips, her fingers pulling down his boxers agonisingly slow. Arthur’s breath hitches in his throat, still in disbelief at how lucky he is. His cock springs out as his underwear drops and pools at his ankles. He removes his hoodie within less than a second, so the thick fabric won't be able to block his view.

Y/n clasps her soft hand around the base off his cock, licking her lips before planting small kisses along the shaft. Arthur hums lowly, threading his hand through her hair. Her pecks head towards the base, before licking a stripe back up to the tip and wrapping her lips around the head.

“Mmm, there she is. My talented girl…” Arthur whispers, before sucking air through his teeth as her nose suddenly hits his lower abdomen. She looks up at him as she bobs her head, seeing his head thrown back in ecstasy, and watching his toned chest rise and fall rapidly. “F-fuck… y/n…” He groans through gritted teeth. He tilts his head down and makes eye contact, his brows are low and his eyes are dark. He bites his lip as he watches her worship his cock with her pretty mouth. “Good girl... so good.”

It doesn’t take long before his whimpers grow more intense and his stomach forms a knot. She’s ready to milk him then and there, but Arthur stops her. “Y/n, wait a sec.” He utters breathlessly. She pulls her head off with a ‘pop’, peering up at him and catching her breath as she eagerly awaits further instructions. “Come ‘ere.” He pulls her up gently by her hands until she’s standing again. He cups her cheeks sweetly as he looks intensely into her eyes with burning desire. “That was incredible, as always, but your mouth isn’t where I want to fill you this morning.” Before she can react, he turns them both slightly and pushes y/n backwards, the backs of her legs hitting the table.

She lets out a small yelp in surprise, before laying herself down across the table, pushing her plate out the way. Arthur leans over her, looking at her how a wild animal looks at its prey. He’s quick to remove her underwear as he plants wet desperate kisses along her neck. “Take it off.” He growls in her ear before nipping right under her earlobe. She hums with excitement as he stands back, hungrily watching her whip the stolen hoodie off. “So beautiful.” He whispers, his hands magnetising to her breasts as his lips crash into hers. He breathes soft whimpers into her lips before planting wet kisses further down her body until he reaches her belly button. He stands upright and grabs his wet cock, giving it a few pumps before raising one of her legs over his shoulder.

He rubs his tip over her clit, before his gaze flicks up to meet hers. “How much do you want this right now?” He asks intensely. Y/n’s surprised at this more animalistic side to Arthur, but it’s more than welcome.

“S-so much Arthur.” She breathes, feeling a wave of shyness wash over her at his new demeanor. He sinks his cock into her as a raw raspy moan leaves his throat. He leans himself lower while she adjusts to the stretch, giving her a quick peck on the lips.

“My girlfriend needs spoiling too.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning over her face. He begins thrusting, his big hand squeezing her soft thigh as it’s pressed against his body. The pair can’t keep quiet as Arthur soon begins pounding into her relentlessly, the kitchen filling with the sounds of gasps, grunts, creaking table legs, and skin slapping skin. He cups her cheek and studies her face, watching the pleasure written all over it, which only spurs him on more.

Feeling his orgasm fast approaching again, he slows down and gives y/n passionate kisses, whispering “You’re incredible,” against her lips. She’s too lost for words to form coherent sentences. He pulls out of her and grips her thighs, manoeuvring her so her hips are slightly off the table. He stands straight and wastes no time ramming himself back into her, trying to keep his noises down so he can enjoy listening to hers, while his hands hold her waist tightly. Her lower tummy fills with butterflies as she watches Arthur pound her senseless, the sight driving her even closer to the edge. His fringe stuck to his forehead, biting his lips between his teeth as he grunts, his eyebrows furrowed while he peers down at where their hips meet. The way he looks at her like a starving man looks at a 5 star meal.

“I know you’re close baby, don’t. hold. back.” He instructs with each thrust. His moves become sloppy and more desperate. She stutters his name to warn him she’s about to burst. “So close,” he mutters, only seconds before the pair release together. He moans her name over and over again like it’s the only word he knows, like he’s ensuring the entire building knows who makes him feel this good. Her whole body quivers as her pussy fills with his cum, overflowing and trickling into the floor.

Arthur drapes over and rests his head on y/n’s belly. “Wow, y/n!” He exhales.

“Arthur… where did that come from?” Y/n managed to croak out, still dazed by the new side of Arthur she hadn't seen before. Arthur chuckles against her tummy before standing up to grab her some kitchen roll for their mess.

“Well, months ago when you were on Becky’s channel, you said something about the idea of nerdy guys ending up being a bad boy in bed,” he explains as he helps her off the table and passes her his hoodie back, “and, well, I always forget about that everytime we got down and dirty, until today.”

Y/n is gobsmacked, she didn’t even remember saying it as it had been a few months since then, although it was true. And Arthur was the perfect example of the kind of nerd she had in mind, and today he proved he was that kind of lover too. “Well, that’s a side of you I didn’t know you had, but it was definitely fun.” She giggles, still feeling giddy.

“Honestly, I didn’t know I did either, but I’m glad you enjoyed it too.” Arthur replies. “Oh look, we wasted our pancakes again.”

Y/n reaches for the plates. “We can microwave them, but we did just fuck near them.” She laughs.

“I don’t mind that, but maybe I should clean the table and floor first.” Arthur chuckles, heading to the bathroom and returning with a fresh cleaning cloth. As y/n loads the microwave, Arthur gets to cleaning.

“I’ve just gotta keep my mind focused for the session tomorrow.” Y/n states, gritting her teeth in an exaggerated manner.

2 MONTHS + 29 DAYS BEFORE NOW:

Y/n sits across from Isaac and Arthur, awaiting the go-ahead from the producer and director to begin. Finally, y/n is guest starring on the ‘Bach and Arthur�� podcast. They’re in their new set, much more space themed, which impresses y/n as it’s the first time she’s seeing it in person.

The podcast begins, the episode’s main subject focusing on ‘The science of icks’, after the heavy shipping between y/n and Arthur. The pair haven’t come out as a couple yet and don’t plan to for a while, so they’re prepared to struggle to not accidentally let anything slip out. Ironically, Isaac is most worried about outing them.

“It’s so nice to have you on here, and by popular demand too.” Isaac states, gesturing over to y/n as if bowing in her presence.

“Honestly it’s an honour being here,” she replies, looking around the set with wonder, “it’s so much bigger than it looks on screen!” Arthur chuckles and puts his head in his hands, anticipating Isaac’s response.

“Guilty, as charged.” Isaac quips, before shaking his head and laughing awkwardly.

At one point, Isaac goes off on a tangent about how pheromones work and y/n’s mind starts wandering. Isaac uses dogs as an example, which takes y/n’s thoughts back to earlier that morning, just before she and Arthur headed to the studio.

The day started innocent enough. Y/n slept over again as Arthur still had the flat to himself and they were filming the podcast in the afternoon. They stood side by side brushing their teeth, y/n using ‘her’ toothbrush in Arthur’s bathroom.

Everything was fine until y/n had her shower and returned to Arthur’s bedroom in just a bathrobe. He was in the middle of getting dressed when she waltzed in gleefully, looking forward to the day ahead. “Wow, your arse looks amazing in those boxers.” Were her exact words, and that was all it took for Arthur’s brain to start turning wild again.

“Oh yeah? And how’s your arse looking today darling?” He flirted, watching eagerly as y/n turned and raised her robe, sticking her butt out in a half seductive, half playful gesture. It was still a little damp and foamy from the shower, its shine begging for his touch. “Fuck.” Arthur whispered to himself, wasting no time in standing behind his hot girlfriend and grabbing a handful of bubbly cheek. His breath tickled the back of her neck when he asked: “How much time do you have to get ready?”

“Plenty.” Y/n replied in a teasing tone, sensing the mood. Arthur gave her a light spank as he chuckled into her neck, his hand lingering as he gripped another handful. Soon enough the clothes he’d just put on were tossed across the room. Y/n turned her upper body back to kiss Arthur, their tongues dancing together, as he gently edged her closer to the bed. Y/n fiddled with the knot in her belt loop, quickly loosening it and discarding the bathrobe altogether. Arthur pushed her onto the bed, with her landing on her hands and knees with a cheeky giggle. Perfect.

Arthur’s hands roamed around her ass cheeks as he watched the small soap bubbles get wiped away. “Fucking beautiful.” He stated as y/n gave Arthur a little wiggle, arching her back and pushing her butt closer to him. She gasped when she felt how ready he was for her so quickly, as his hard tip made contact with the back of her thigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Arthur mumbled as he spat on his fingers and rubbed them between her plump cheeks. That feeling alone driving her crazy.

“Please…” Y/n whimpered, eager to feel that stretch again. Arthur’s hands kneaded her cheeks again as he stepped closer, moving the up to grip her hips. His tip pressed against her entrance as he stood still.

“Please what, baby girl?” Arthur asked, she could hear the grin in his voice.

“Please Arthur, please fuck me.” She begged. He hummed out a chuckle as he pulled her onto him, his hips making swift flush contact with her ass. Y/n exhaled a loud moan in both surprise and bliss. It wasn’t long before Arthur pounded away at her needy pussy, his velvet voice calling her name and telling her how good she took him. His fingers digging into her hips, definitely leaving marks behind as he pulled her on his cock again and again, adding pleasure every time his hand planted another slap to her ass. He painted light scratches down her back as he approached his orgasm, only minutes before he filled her to the brim again with his warm--

“Y/n?” Isaac asks, his lips curled in amusement. She blinks, feeling her face begin to burn.

“What- I’m so sorry my brain must’ve just switched off there.” She smiles awkwardly, her confession causing the boys to laugh.

“Wow y/n honestly, we invite you on with the kindness of our hearts,” Arthur reprimands jokingly as y/n hides her face behind her hands, “and you just ignore us!”

“So rude, that’s an ick right there.” Isaac chimes in with a grin as y/n continues chortling in embarrassment, turning redder.

“Hm, maybe your yapping was such an ick that her brain short-circuited Bach.” Arthur smirks.

“I’m sorry guys, I promise I have your full attention now.” She assures them, sitting up straighter.

“Out of curiosity, what were you thinking about?” Arthur asks sincerely, being sure to keep his tone platonic.

“Oh, something Bach said made me think of something that happened this morning.” Y/n answers, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. Arthur quickly takes some water from his mug, trying his best to not show a reaction.

“What happened this morning?” Isaac asks with genuine intrigue, having fallen for the couple’s ‘normal’ behaviour.

“I can’t say, it was something personal.” Y/n giggles awkwardly, avoiding Arthur’s eyes at all costs. Arthur’s mood shifts ever so slightly for the rest of the recording, seeming quieter than usual as he’s reminded of their morning activities too. This allows Isaac to take the reins.

After a while, the topic of listing each other’s icks become the new segment of conversation, each of them listing an ick and discussing their thoughts on each one. Again the three are very careful not to shed light on y/n and Arthur’s relationship, so they keep as vague as possible on some of the icks mentioned.

“Another one for me is when someone doesn’t like animals.” Y/n states, shaking her head in feigned disgust.

“I agree with you there.” Arthur adds, having regained his composure by this point. “I don’t get how someone can dislike any animal.”

“Well there are venomous ones out there and ones that attack humans.” Isaac guesses with a small shrug.

“Yeah, dangerous ones, that's fair enough. But I’m thinking more like domestic animals; dogs, cats, rabbits, etcetera,” Y/n confirms.

Isaac then brings up people who are rude to waiters as an ick, which sparks a whole conversation of people the three have met who do this. They finish the podcast with reading the viewers’ stories of their own icks, some of the anecdotes are ridiculous and make for great talking points. The recording session finishes without a hitch.

As everyone is preparing to leave y/n talks to the crew to introduce herself a bit more and to congratulate them on their usual good work, while in the corner of her eye she sees Isaac pat Arthur on the back sweetly.

Arthur then slips away for the toilet, being sure to tell y/n through text as to not disrupt her conversation. She leaves the staff to their close-down procedures as Isaac approaches her.

“You know, he’s really happy with you.” He says quietly with a beaming smile. “It’s really nice to see. I don’t think it can be picked up on camera, but he really does light up more when you’re around.” Y/n is taken aback by the sweet words.

“Thank you… Bach? Isaac? That’s so sweet.” She chuckles awkwardly.

“Isaac’s fine. People usually only call me Bach on camera.” He assures her as he puts on his jacket. “But thanks for looking after him. I will kill you if you break his heart though.” The pair break out into laughter as Arthur returns. They all leave the building together but Isaac heads off to meet Liv.

2 MONTHS + 13 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

Y/n frowns as she scrolls through TikTok, having stopped on a glambyflo video where she's dressed up all fancy. She enjoys the video and gives it a like, opening the comments to compliment Flo when she sees the top voted comment:

‘Are you and Arthur Tv together?’

Followed by loads of likes and replies. The replies were a variety, some saying they live together, some saying they’d make a sweet couple, then there's one of someone pointing out that Flo wore one of Arthur’s hoodies in an instagram post. Y/n trusts Arthur 100%, and she knows what shippers are like and has experienced them herself, but something about that comment gets to her.

She continues reading through the thread of replies when the same girl pointed out the date of the instagram post in question as proof. Y/n tells herself that she’s being silly, and yet, there she is looking through Flo’s instagram and finding said post. Seeing said hoodie. It is one of Arthur’s. It deeply bothers y/n that she herself has worn that exact hoodie. Her boyfriend’s hoodie.

She darts back to the comments on Flo’s TikTok video and there’s more separate comments about Flo and Arthur being a couple. Some people were replying saying that Arthur is clearly into y/n, but others replied comparing the girls. It starts making y/n feel queasy, she leaves the sweet comment for Flo and closes the app down. She lays back in Arthur’s bed keeps herself calm as she waits for Arthur to come out of the shower, probably his last shower in that shared flat.

When he enters his room, a cloud of steam following him like he’s a literal god, he immediately notices the look on y/n’s face. “Darling, are you OK?” He asks, softly sitting next to her on the bed and putting his warm damp hand on hers.

“I’m fine Arth, just read some comments on TikTok that rubbed me the wrong way.” She knows she can be honest with Arthur about anything. She looks at him sweetly and sits up, turning to face him.

“What comments? Nothing about you though, right?” Arthur’s face is laced with concern as he gives her knee a squeeze, his heart dropping in his chest at the thought of someone writing mean comments about her.

“Sort of, mostly people talking about you and Flo, some about me.” Y/n chuckles awkwardly, as she plays with her fingernails to avoid eye contact.

“People have shipped me a Flo for years, but she’s like a little sister to me. Literally, I’ve known her since she was a teenager.” His reassurance is heartwarming, but he can still sense the unease.

“The comments aren’t just shipping you two though, they think you are actually dating…” Y/n trails off slightly, feeling stupid for talking about it, “And they’re comparing us girls, which I just hate. I know it’s the internet and people can be dicks, but it’s not fair on either of us girls.”

“Oh, y/n. I’m sorry. Comments can really be shit sometimes, as you know. But people jump to conclusions all the time.” Arthur replies soothingly, pulling her into a hug.

“Their so-called evidence is that Flo’s worn a hoodie like yours before.” Y/n half laughs, taking a huge sigh.

Arthur pulls away to look y/n in the eyes. “I know the one you mean, she accidentally took it while I was in my room filming. I think she saw it on the sofa once and assumed it was one she has that's similar,” he explains, “I remember when I saw her wearing it, I pointed it out and she apologised profusely. I said she may as well keep it on as she’d got her make up around the neck, and to just throw it in the laundry basket when she next gets changed.” Arthur’s hand cups y/n's jaw, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her cheek.

“That makes total sense.” Y/n smiles.

“I’m sorry though, speculation is one of the worst parts of putting yourself out there. And you know if you deny it, they just accuse you even more.” Arthur holds her hand again softly.

“Yeah definitely.” Y/n sighs again, feeling embarrassed that she’d even let the comments bug her that much in the first place.

“But I do appreciate you telling me how you feel, you know you never need to hide things like that from me.” Arthur pulls her in for another hug, before standing and getting changed into sweats.

“Also, I told Flo to take the photo down at the time and she said no and accused me of being jealous because ‘she wore it better’.” He chuckles, y/n sniggers too. “I told you, she’s like a little sister. Her and Darcy literally remind me of my sisters.”

1 MONTHS + 24 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

The podcast episode has been released. Y/n sits on her bed watching the video on her phone. It’s the first time in ages that she hasn’t woken up next to Arthur, but he’s been busy filming videos following his move. Y/n needs her Arthur fix, so the video going live was perfect.

She chuckles when she spots the moment Arthur thinks about their morning fun that day and how silent he goes, but is proud at how stoic he managed to look at the same time. When the video ends, y/n scrolls down to the comments. She laughs as she clicks on the specific timestamps and reads what the viewers had to say about those moments, and her heart melts at the sweet comments about her and Arthur, including speculations about their behaviour.

Commenter1: They’re trying too hard to look like just friends lmao

Commenter2: They’re not flirting but their eyes show it all ↳ Commenter3: either that or they fucked and now the built up tension is gone lol

Commenter4: The way their icks show more proof they’re made for each other

But then she spots a few comments she definitely wasn’t expecting: people shipping her with Bach?

“What?” She mutters to herself, so confused.

Commenter5: Anyone noticed that Bach and y/n seem to really hit it off?

Commenter6: y/n n bach really bounce off each other…… Maybe because they’re just good friends but still 🤨 ↳ Commenter7: I won’t stand for any #y/ntv denial.

Commenter8: y/nbach or italiany/n? Either way sounds good

Commenter9: can’t wait for the soft launch of y/n and Isaac ↳ Commenter10: writing this about someone’s boyfriend is insane btw ↳ Commenter11: second this. they're just talking more because Arthur went non verbal

There’s a lot more like that coming in as she scrolls, and she feels incredibly guilty as she reads each of these comments. She’d only recently been on a double date with Arthur, Isaac, and Liv. She begins feeling anxious about her friendship with the couple being ruined, especially with the cinema date she has planned with Arthur.

Arthur turns up to her place a couple of hours later, where y/n kept herself distracted with getting ready and doing housework. They’re heading to the cinema then back at his flat again, as it’s slightly closer. He’s chirpy as he runs from the door to his girlfriend and gives her a spinning hug.

“I hope you don’t mind love, but I invited Isaac and Liv to to join us for the film.” He beams. Y/n’s mind fills with dread.

“Oh, OK. That’s cool.” Y/n replies, trying to sound calm and collected.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Arthur asks in a fake bossy tone. “Is it the comments on the pod?” Y/n’s hands snap to her mouth as she feels her cheeks turn rosy. She only nods as she struggles to keep eye contact, the thoughts of an awkward cinema double date flooding her brain.

Arthur chuckles as he takes a seat in her lounge area. “Don’t be so silly, people comment that rubbish all the time. They have no clue what they’re talking about, well, except the ones who were right about us.” He shoots her a wink as she sits beside him with a creeping smile.

“I feel bad for Liv, I’ve never seen anyone ship Isaac with someone before.” Y/n sighs.

“I haven’t either, but plenty of women thirst over him on her TikTok videos, so I’m sure she can handle this.” Arthur replies reassuringly. “C’mon, we’ve got a scary film to watch.”

The pair spot Isaac and Liv while they wait outside, all giving hugs to each other. Liv is sweet but quiet as always, given that she and y/n haven’t hung out enough times yet. Y/n worries that it’s because of the comments. They head inside and wait in line to buy their tickets and snacks. While Arthur and Isaac yap, y/n takes a deep breath and apologises to Liv. “I don’t know how much you read on Bach- Isaac’s stuff, but I’m sorry if the comments on our podcast episode made you uncomfortable.”

Liv gestures towards y/n as if to swat her anxious thoughts away. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ve spent years reading weird comments about him. They don’t phase me anymore.” She sniggers.

“Oh thank god!” Y/n replies, “I was so worried they’d upset you.” Liv just laughs and gives her another hug.

"I'd be more concerned, but you and Arthur give each other heart eyes 24/7." She smirks.

“Ah look Arthur, my two girlfriends hugging!” Isaac bellows, wrapping an arm around both of them, causing the girls to chortle.

“Yeeeah. You’re a divvy.” Arthur states with a grin, before gesturing to the counter. “And we’re being served.”

1 MONTH + 11 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

“Right so, I’m back with another anomaly game and I’m not alone this time,” Arthur sweetly tells the camera, “by popular demand, I’m with y/n to be my second pair of eyes.” Sitting in Bach's usual spot, y/n smiles and waves at the lens before opening her eyes wider and shifting them around jokingly. They’re still not publicly out as a couple yet, but their experiences of hosting videos should keep them subtle.

“This game is called 'Exit 8', where we’re trapped in a corridor of a train station until we successfully identify or ignore the anomalies.” Arthur explains as y/n nods her head, watching the man on screen walking towards the character.

“So how do we know if there’s an anomaly yet, is this a practice round?” Y/n asks Arthur. He narrows his eyes at the screen as he slowly walks the character down the corridor.

“Hmm, I don’t know… Maybe we should keep an eye on things for now in case the next loop is the official start.” Arthur carefully eyes up every detail in the area, pointing each thing out and deciding that he’ll keep an eye on the left hand side of the room and y/n will observe the right side for anomalies. As the character turns the corner, the love birds see the instructions written as a station sign and realise the game’s now officially starting.

The pair have a rocky start, missing 3 separate anomalies and restarting from zero each time. But on their fourth loop, y/n is first to successfully identify an anomaly. “Arthur! There’s a door missing, there’s usually three.” Arthur whips the character’s POV round to a blank spot on the wall.

“Oh! You’re right! How did I miss that?” Arthur exclaims, shifting his eyes up to the camera in surprise.

“Because it’s on my side, silly.” Y/n teases. Arthur turns the character round and heads back, as the rules state, and they start the second loop.

“I know, but still, such a big thing missing and I didn’t notice.” Arthur mumbles, pretending to sulk over not being the first to spot an anomaly. “Those eyes of yours are truly magnificent.” He adds without thinking, turning his head and gazing sweetly at his girlfriend.

“Whose, mine or this guy’s?” Y/n quickly asks, defusing any chance of viewers flipping out by referencing the NPC on screen. She avoids his eyes but watches him snap his head back to the game.

“Obviously this guy’s — OHH! He’s staring right at me!” Arthur screams before turning the character and running back.

“That’s so creepy!” Y/n chuckles, fighting the urge to cosy up to Arthur, unsure of any big scares that may come.

They get pretty far into the game, having been recording for just over 35 minutes, reaching level 7. “One more level to go and we’re done.” Arthur states to the camera, conveying the seriousness of the in-game situation. The pair make a point to double check both of their ‘sides’.

“Arthur, stop a sec.” Y/n instructs, her eyes locked on the screen. “Look at that middle door and take a few steps right.” Arthur does as she says. The second door is slightly open with a still smiling woman looking directly at the player. “Oh my god that’s terrifying!” Y/n bellows as she shivers, instinctively moving her body closer to Arthur, before playing it off by faking another shiver and sitting back in her original position. Arthur is equally freaked out, his mouth hanging open as he turns the character around.

“So, so creepy.” He adds. As the character turns the corner slowly, he flips the POV back and yelps, purposefully startling y/n. She shrieks.

“Arthur! What the hell?!” She giggles nervously. “I nearly pissed on your lovely stool!”

Arthur laughs hard. “I’m sorry baby.” He replies softly, leaning back to kiss her just under her ear. They both freeze, starting at each other, then Arthur looks to his camera. He shakes his head and chuckles. “Looks like I’m editing this one myself!” Crisis averted.

They complete the game as normal and finish the video. Y/n helping Arthur unplug his recording equipment. “This might be a weird question Arth,” y/n begins, Arthur looking to her with an inquisitive hum, “but maybe it’s not so bad if your editors see us be affectionate. Maybe this can be used as a hard launch?”

Arthur pauses to think. “I don’t know, I’m not sure if I’m ready for the world to know our beautiful little secret just yet.”

“OK, that’s fair enough.” Y/n slowly nods. Maybe he’s right. The pair haven’t dropped the L-bombs yet, so maybe any kind of launch is too soon. “It is kind of fun having this little secret.” She adds. While it’s true, she’d also love to be able to go out on dates, hold hands in public, and not have to tiptoe around her words and body language. However, she chooses not to push Arthur out of respect for his feelings.

17 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

Y/n finds herself yet again with the boys and Becky, filming another pub challenge for ChrisMD's channel. On one team is y/n, George, and Arthur Hill; with Arthur, Becky, and Chris on the other. They’d been playing pub bingo, all football themed, and had stopped at their third pub.

It’s rowdy, but luckily for the group it wasn’t because they’d been spotted, but because it's 6pm on a Friday. A group of drunk 20 or 30-something lads spot the cameras and join the group’s table, naturally. Chris kindly explains the video when one of the men recognise him specifically and asks for a photo. The crew continue filming, with the men's consent. One of the other men crouches down at the end of the table, where y/n and Becky are sitting opposite each other. The guy’s mate then joins behind him, squatting slightly. Both men are very intrigued by the girls.

The guy at the front looks at Becky, a mischievous smirk on his lips. “My mate Dave here fancies you.” He states, gesturing his head back to his friend. Dave shooting her a nod. When Arthur’s done taking the photo of Chris and his fan, his attention shoots over to the girls, more importantly y/n. Just in time too, as the crouching guy then turns to her and eyes her up and down.

“Whereas I like the look of you. I’m Terry.” He reaches out his hand her way, which she hesitantly shakes politely.

“Charming!” She laughs, her tone half sarcastic and half friendly, hoping he’ll leave her alone. Arthur’s not even subtle with the daggers he’s staring at this Terry guy.

“You single?” He asks before taking a sip of his beer. He then leans in more towards y/n and her eyes widen slightly, leaning herself back. All the boys are keeping their eyes on these two men carefully now, while Becky is chatting to Dave in a more mutually friendly conversation. Arthur’s jaw clenches as he sees the discomfort on his girlfriend’s face, but feels powerless as he’s sat at the opposite end of the table with no quick way to step in. She’s in quite a predicament, being completely unaware that the cameras are all off now, she politely answers: “I’m not interested, sorry.”

Terry laughs before bellowing: “Learn to listen love, I asked if you were single, not if you’re interested.” Chris immediately puts his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, as if to tell him not to react. Terry's loud choice of words catches Becky and Dave's attention too.

“Woah.” George coos, holding his hand up and in front of y/n, knowing Arthur is too far away to defuse the situation.

“I heard you, Terry, but whether I’m single or not doesn’t change the fact that I’m not interested.” Y/n awkwardly chuckles as she leans more towards George to feel safer, standing her ground whilst also trying not to anger the overstepping man.

Terry scoffs. “Now now, you don’t have to be a lippy slag about it.” He jabs, gesturing towards her angrily with his pint and spilling a bit of beer on her. Arthur immediately stands up, not evening thinking. Hill, who's sitting opposite him, also stands up, leaning over to get Arthur’s attention. Arthur ignores him as he stares harshly into the drunk’s eyes, Terry looking back at him in confusion.

“Leave it, Arthur, leave it.” Hill instructs to Arthur, but it falls on death ears. The crew taking more action too, one of them fetching the pub's security. Chris also stands, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder again while Becky naturally starts swearing at Terry.

“Now what’s his fucking problem?” Terry asks, aggressively pointing his finger towards Arthur with his free hand while his mate Dave tries pulling him away.

“You, obviously.” Arthur replies firmly. Terry scoffs again, swaying slightly as his friend apologises on his behalf, but he's not budging. George instinctively puts his arm around y/n and pulls her even closer to him while she dabs at the spillage on her lap.

Becky slides off her bench, with a male filming crew member at her side, they step round Dave and Terry and she rushes to y/n. “George, take us to the toilets.” She whispers quick. He and Arthur share a nod as the three head to the ladies’ room, George of course planning on waiting outside. Just as y/n leaves the table, Terry reaches out towards her ass, but misses luckily.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Y/n hears Arthur shout from behind her, but her legs don’t stop rushing towards the toilets.

“Ignore it, we’ll sort it.” George states as he stands to the side of the door. He watches on as the bar staff ask the drunken man and his group to leave, while respectfully asking the YouTubers to keep their language and voices down for the rest of the night. Becky checks on y/n, who is just tipsy enough to not get too upset by the situation.

“He loves you, you know.” Becky smiles, lightening the mood. Y/n grins too, feeling giddy at how Arthur reacted now that the shock has died down.

“I’ve never seen him like that before.” Is all y/n can say, a mix of feelings rushing through her faster than the cocktail she had ordered.

“Me neither, but it’s nice to know he can protect you without being too daft about it, isn’t it?” Becky adds, y/n’s smile growing as she nods in agreement. As y/n wipes more of the beer off her with toilet roll, she gets a text from George informing her that the annoying guys have gone and the table has calmed down. They exit together and Arthur immediately darts their way.

“Y/n, are you OK?” His eyes are laced with concern as his hands slide up to her shoulders. Y/n shoots him a dopey smile.

“You’re my hero.”

—————

Arthur let’s y/n into his new flat, she lazily kicks her shoes off and drops her jacket and bag to the floor. They’d finished filming just fine. Chris had informed the group that he’ll do a voice over explaining a rough version of what happened in the pub, and their fun was thankfully not ruined in the end.

Y/n heads to the lounge area and flops on the sofa, as Arthur fetches the pair a glass of water each. He joins her and holds her hand gently in his. “I don’t wanna put a downer on the overall fun day we had, but that incident in the pub scared me today.” He says softly.

Y/n sits up and faces him more. “Sadly that’s what it’s like being a woman, some men are just like that.” She replies, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand soothingly.

“I know that and trust me, I hate it, but…” Arthur trails off a little as his tipsy mind puts together the words, “I felt awful, really bad. Like it’s my fault.”

Stilling her movements, y/n watches Arthur’s face as she waits for him to continue, feeling confused.

“Like, you couldn’t say you had a boyfriend because of, and I couldn’t swoop in and say ‘hey, that’s my girlfriend’.” He elaborates, guilt written all over his face.

“Arthur, the way you stood up to that weirdo tonight was perfect in this scenario. And the others did a great job at keeping me safe too, because you’re all good people.” Y/n coos.

“I guess I feel partly responsible for what happened today, because it's me who's hesitant to announce our relationship.” He adds.

“Arthur, no-"

“And it’s stupid because I’ve been putting it off until I found the perfect way to tell you how I feel about you.” He holds both of her hands tightly in his as he word-vomits, “That just when I thought I had met all the best people in my life, you showed up dressed in a bloody postman outfit and I was a damn dog. I honestly think it was love at first sight. I was... hooked from the moment you spoke to me. I gravitated towards you the way plants lean towards the sunlight.” His voice cracks as he forgets to control his pitch and volume.

Y/n’s eyes begin tearing up as she beams ear to ear. Arthur continues: “And I’m so proud to call you my girlfriend. It pains me sometimes to not be able to show affection to you whenever I want. I crave your touch as much as my lungs need oxygen. I just-“

“Arthur!”

He stops and takes a breath, realising how much he babbled. “Hm?”

“I love you too.”

He yanks her into an almost back-breaking hug. “You really do?” He asks quietly as he pulls away.

“Of course I do Arth!” She giggles as her eyes twinkle. He bows his head with glee and gives her another tight hug, while she calmly lists all the things she loves about him, before they accidentally fall asleep on the sofa.

16 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

The sound of her phone vibrating on the kitchen counter startles her. Immediately feeling pressure on her body, she peers down to see Arthur laying against her, snoring lightly. "Baby," she whispers gently, giving his back a small tap. He snorts awake and looks up at his girlfriend, the morning sunlight near blinding him.

"Morning angel," He mumbles with a croaky voice, "oh, we slept out here. Oops." He sits up slowly and rubs his eyes as y/n stretches. Arthur kisses her cheek before going to refill a glass of water and turning on the kettle. Y/n follows him to grab her phone from the counter, it's a text from Becky asking if she's OK after what happened yesterday. Y/n pauses for a moment when the pub situation flashes in her head. That scary Terry, the way Arthur stood up for her, the rest of the filming being a success, Arthur's confession. Wait. Arthur's confession.

"You want a cuppa?" He asks sweetly. She looks up at him. Her hero, the man who loves her. She nods as a smile creeps up on her lips. She starts texting Becky back, saying Arthur dropped the L-bomb on her last night, but stops herself in case she's misremembering.

"Arth?" She starts, her voice breaking from the rowdy night before. He turns to her, his chocolate eyes sparkling.

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?" She asks innocently enough and Arthur chuckles.

"The bad thing or the really really good thing?" Arthur questions in return. Aha.

"Wait, I wasn't dreaming?" Y/n replied with a huge grin.

Arthur laughs as he continues making their drinks. "It was a dream come true for me, but no, it wasn't a dream." He hands her a cup.

"You looooove me." She teases. Arthur's eyes go wide.

"Wait, what?" Arthur exclaims.

Y/n bursts into laughter. "Nice try, you bully."

Arthur sets his cup down. "That was a bit mean, wasn't it?" He chuckles as leans down and kisses her above her eyebrow. "Of course I love you, how could I not?"

4 DAYS UNTIL NOW:

Feeling brave, the pair sit across from each other at Arthur's favourite fancy restaurant. He's been dying to take y/n there since the day they first met.

Arthur already knows his go-to while y/n eyes up the menu. "So, I was thinking of uploading our Exit 8 video next." He informs her, a soft smile across his face.

"Oh? You've finished editing?" Y/n asks, peeping up from the menu.

"Yes. All of it." He replies. His girlfriend nods with a sweet smile, then resumes looking for something to eat. "Y/n, all of it." Arthur clarifies, reaching across and placing his hand on hers. Y/n's wide eyes dart back up to him.

"All of it, like, all of it?" She questions, a grin spreading across her face as Arthur nods. "We're really doing this?" She adds.

"We really are." Arthur replies proudly.

30 MINUTES UNTIL NOW:

Side by side on y/n's sofa, they click on Arthur's Exit 8 video on her TV. It just went live, and they excitedly watch it together. Almost immediately, the spot exchanged glances neither were even aware of. "It's a good job this is happening because there's no way myself or any of my editors could've edited around those." Arthur points out gleefully.

"You would've had to scrap the whole video it seems." Y/n chuckles in response. Arthur peers down at y/n's genuine smile and wraps his arm around her, pulling her into him as they continue watching. They get to the moment where Arthur compliments y/n's eyes and they both giggle at how un-subtle it was. Then they get to the kiss on the cheek. Arthur left it unedited, no silly edits, just a raw sweet gesture.

"Tiktok's gonna explode." Y/n states with a grin. The video ends and Arthur scrolls down to the comment section and they take turns reading the comments out loud with pride.

Commenter1: A KISS????? "BABY"?????????? HELLO ↳ Commenter2: fr I'm about to crash out I KNEW IT

Commenter3: 6:23 the magnificent eyes comment omggggg ↳ Commenter3: wait. the kiss.....

Commenter4: y/ntv gang im too excited and impatient to do the whole video rn when's the kiss ↳ Commenter5: it's at 21:47 you won't miss it trust me 🥲 ↳ Commenter6: 21:28 its just a kiss on the cheek but its still so fcking cute!!!

NOW:

arthurtv To the moon and back

Tagged: y/ninstagram

y/ninstagram: my favourite pancake ruiner 😍

Tagged: arthurtv

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

A/n: God this took me AGES and I'm sorry 🫶🏻 ♥ TAGS: @ooostarwarsfandom501st @themdera @rougetv @essieswurld @darleneslane @beauty-nd-the-geek @3sriracha - Gabby xo

#arthur tv #arthur tv fluff #arthur tv x reader #arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #Arthur tv angst #Arthur tv smut #Arthur Frederick angst #Arthur Frederick smut #George clarke #italianbach #chrismd #Arthur hill

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whore4gwen · 11 months ago

Text

Re8 Women dating HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, & Mother Miranda

WLW

———————————————————————

Tags: Light talks of manipulation, narcissism, and sadism, mental health issues, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, possessiveness, slightly unhinged behavior, MY personal head cannons, very slight suggestiveness, Mirandas fucking God complex, isolation, religious elements, cuddling, poor perception of love, & tax evasion.

A/N: Im working on sm things rn it’s not even funny. Despite that, I desperately wanted to post something, so here’s some of my hc. No these are not all my hcs, these are just some of the REALISTIC ones I have. These are based on my own personal perception of these fictional characters. You are welcome to disagree with anything I write, but you’re not welcome to harass me about it. Please keep negativity to yourselfs. Anyways, please enjoy!

———————————————————————

Alcina:

-It’s not that Lady Dimitrescu is incapable of loving another, I just think it’s the way she would love.

-Carnal, possessive, dangerous, a little crazed even. Nothing about the lady’s love is sensual or soft. She’s powerful, domineering, and boy does she relish in it. Of course she’s aware of all the things she could do, all the things you’d let her do. So willing, so compliant, so easy to control.

-Alcina is a narcissist through and through. You will bend to her will, to her every need. You’re hers, after all. (We still love you thou)

-I feel like her love is very incessant, very smothering for lack of better words. She’s not exactly clingy, but she needs you around, she needs to feel your presence.

-Always, and I mean always watching you. Nothing you do will go past her. She needs to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times.

-A bit emotionally manipulative. Of course she doesn’t see it that way, she just wants everything to go her way. What’s so wrong with that?

-I think for the most part she’s a little self aware about her flaws and what not, but I wouldn’t say this with 100% certainty. A big part of her doesn’t really see a problem with the way she is. It’s absolutely normal.

-But to be fair, it’s not like anyone would call her out.. so🤷🏻‍♀️

-Pet names pet names pet names. Alcina absolutely adores them. She only really uses your names unless she’s really pissed. In that case, run.

Donna:

-Shy. So incredibly so that you don’t hear her voice till weeks after working for her. And the way your jaw fell to the ground when you heard it had Angie belly laughing on the ground. If it wasn’t for her, you thought maybe you were hearing things.

-Forgets to eat often. She gets so preoccupied with her dolls, she doesn’t always take the best care of herself. So make sure you remind her to eat:(

-It’ll take AGES to get Donna there, but when you do, she is nothing short of the wait. Very passionate, and a little unhinged.

-Like Alcina, she’s a bit possessive.

-She finally found someone she was comfortable with showing her scare, you’re not going anywhere. You belong to her and that’s final. You’re literally stuck, so get comfortable.

-Values your opinion over everything. Her cooking, her sewing skills, her Garden. Donna swoons at praise. A light pink dusting her cheeks any time you compliment her, no matter how minor.

-Poor Donna has been alone for quite some time now. Touch starved as well as touch repulsed. Have fun with that :)

- Canonically, Donna has really bad mental health issues, which causes her to lash out and make rash decisions. She’s not abusive by any means, just a lot to handle.

-She gets into her own head a lot. Constantly convincing herself none of this is real. That one day she’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

-I know she has manic episodes. Cannot convince me otherwise. Before you, they were almost unmanageable. Your first experience dealing with Donna during one terrified you. You were so worried about Donna, you had no idea what was happening.

-You tried desperately to comfort her. Unfortunately the voices were stronger than your weak attempts.

-After a while, she finally calmed down and explained that catastrophe as best as she could without scaring you off.

-At first Donna didn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she was just truly confused. After having the significance of cuddling explained to her, she fell in love with it.

-Unironically, she’s the big spoon. She loves holding you, making sure you’re safe in her arms. Now, it’s the only way she can fall asleep.

Miranda:

-This bitch is so crazy.

-All shits and giggles aside, this woman is absolutely sadistic.

-Mind games are inevitable. Especially if she’s truly in love with you, in her dark and twisted way.

-Possessive asf.

-Did I already say possessive?

-Miranda is definitely stingy and will isolate you from your friends/family. Why do you need them when you have her? She’s your Goddess, she’s all you need. Never mind everyone else.

-Definitely the type to tell you to take a nap if you ever say you’re tired of her shit.

-You’re not going anywhere. Nice try, but no.

-I know this is obvious, but her God complex is really top tier. I mean seriously.

-Absolutely loves being worshipped, and not just in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. She wants to be put first, she wants to be your number one priority, your Goddess, your everything.

-She will find a way to incorporate her status & power in everything she does.

-She loves you, but you must always remember your place, under her. Figuratively and literally.

-Despite her cut off personality, she’s definitely a cuddlier. Especially after a long day of failed experiments and aggravating meetings.

-Like Donna, Miranda has been alone for almost a century. She’s so damn touch starved yet also incredibly touch repulsed at the same time. Have fun coping.

-Of course she threatened you if you ever told anyone thou. I mean can you imagine THE Mother Miranda being spooned? Imagine what the public would say.

-Fucking tax evader.

-After she gets Eva back, successfully, she lessens up, but only a bit. Like Alcina, she is the way she is and she doesn’t really see the problem with it.

I want all three of them so badly.

#re8 village #resident evil 8 #headcanons #alcina dimitriscu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #mother miranda is so hot #mother miranda x reader #I need all three of them #poor cutie patootie Donna #wlw fanfic #possessive #crazy #tax evasion #cults #mother miranda #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady beneviento #resident evil #Alcina being a badass bitch

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linlinmoon · 6 months ago

Note

hi bub! i'm not sure if you're taking requests rn, but if you are, i'd like to request a fluffy leona kingscholar x reader fic where reader can't stop playing with leona's tail 🤭🦁

Soft Spot

🖋️: thank u for this request! reading and writing leona fics are my guilty pleasure, fun fact! riddle, leona, and malleus caught my eye the first ever time i got into twst yrs ago hihi :)) i hope u enjoy this one! i really enjoyed writing it within the day 🤍

🍰: word count: 994 words. gn! reader, fluff! leona kingscholar x reader (likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated !!)

Leona wouldn't have ever put his guard down around anyone, it's the one other important thing he learned being in the savannah. That you are vulnerable when you turn your back on someone, it's always been that way, survival of the fittest they say.

So when you came into his life, well, it was a big change to say the least. Whenever you were around, he always had unexplainable emotions that was bubbling up inside of him. Urges that he wouldn't usually have, he knew it wasn't normal.

The feeling of wanting to know how you're hand felt in his, the way he yearned for the sensation of your hands going over his calloused ones, wanting to entangle his fingers into yours. How you would glance at him every now and then while you braid his hair for him on a lazy morning, the way your eyes moved when your gaze shifted elsewhere or how they would turn into crescents when you smiled.

This was far from normal. Though he couldn't help but enjoy it and want more. He was wrapped around your finger.

Lounging in the dimly lit space of his dorm where the sunlight would only seep through his room's opened blinds, he had you over to "keep him company" and didn't elaborate further. Not like he wanted or needed to anyway, unless it's just the fact that he didn't want to admit that he feels safer and comfortable when you're around. Or that he does like being around you, it wasn't lonely like it always was. You were "tolerated by him" (but of course, it's not just that.)

You had lounged on a different seat near his bed while you spoke to him about the upcoming spelldrive tournament, asking him about how it was for the team when in preparation.

“Just don't pull a stunt like the one you did last time. Competitiveness has it's limits too.”

“Not for me there isn't, it's just a matter of not wanting to lose, beasty. And our dorm is set on winning whether they like it or not.” He spoke, his lazy tone lingering in the air before it comes to a comfortable silence.

Minutes would pass, the housewarden's eyes would droop a little to rest them. Ears twitching and his tail swishing around, it was a sign that he was still up and hadn't already fallen asleep on you.

Naturally due to you and Leona's difference in species, you had noticed the way his tail would swish around as he kept himself awake while doing so. It was the only other time you would see it up close, knowing him, he didn't let anyone touch or even come close to his tail. But supposedly, it was yet again different with you.

Unable to help yourself, you reach out to tamper with his tail a little. Feeling the hairs of the ends of his tail as you did so, causing him to open his eyes in curiosity of what you were doing. Your laughter rung in his ears, making his ears twitch and an amused smile tugging on the corners of his lips. As he watched you aimlessly play around, the same unexplainable feeling warms his heart again whenever he's around you.

Following the movement of his tail aimlessly, you hadn't noticed him watching in amusement. He had kept quiet as he moved his tail around for you to follow it like you were some type of cat he was trying to lure in with a toy. It was amusing in his eyes, a soft snort escaped him as he tried to contain his laughter.

The housewarden begun to intentionally move his tail around in directions to watch your hands follow it suit. After a little while, he deliberately stops and lets you finally take his tail into your gentle grasp, not wanting to hurt him or anything. Leona's tail begins to wrap around your wrist and the entire length of your forearm before finally letting out a chuckle.

“Enjoyed yourself?”

“Well, it was fun while it lasted.”

“You're rather easy to please. You know, not everyone gets to do that with my tail.”

“Exactly, that's what makes it even more enjoyable.”

Leona glances up at you and barks out a gentle laugh before shaking his head, his eyes lingering again on your figure. Whatever this feeling was, and whatever it does to him, he does not want it to stop. He gestures a little as his grip on you by his tail ushers you forwards.

“Come here, lay with me, beasty.”

As you do so, his tail uncoils itself from your arms. His head had readjusted so it would lay on your chest with your body underneath him.

You began to scratch his ears and card your fingers through his smooth thick locks of hair. Leona almost purred due to the sensation if he let himself give into it, maybe he would if it was any other day.

“I didn't think you were the type to like this. Though again, maybe I don't know you well enough then.”

“Maybe so.. You know, this is all new to me.. but I don't hate it.”

Sure, maybe it was because it was something other than the usual feelings of annoyance, bitterness, and hatred when it came to different aspects of his life as the second born prince or being the current housewarden of savanaclaw. But maybe, just maybe, it was simply because it was you. You and your whole being. The way you see him as not only a prince but just him, as a beastman and like any other his kind, just Leona.

“So.. you do like it?”

“Don't push your luck, beasty.”

His gaze adores you in so many absolute ways as he spoke. Resting his head on your chest, leaning into your touch with a hidden smile on his lips as he buries his face into you. Maybe just maybe, he'll let you make him vulnerable, just this once.

“.. I just like having you around. i like it way more than I should.”

#leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fic #twisted wonderland #disney twst

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starkeyvhs · 1 month ago

Note

hii!! here to request rafe and forehead kisses. can be as wild as you wanna make it (it’s you so ofc it’s gonna be amazing 😚)

i’m a sucker for forehead kissies. and i’m in dire need of my imaginary rage rn 😫

UGH MADDI I’m such a sucker for forehead kisses 🥹 I’ve been wanting to write a concept like this for quite some time and I decided to incorporate it with your req!! I hope you like it <3 I would love to know your thoughts on it xx

no one noticed

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x nerd!reader

SUMMARY: rafe gets to see the side of the nerd, quiet girl of his class no one has seen before.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: high school au; really soft and sweet rafe (so if ooc rafe isn’t your thing this fic isn’t for you!); really quiet and nerdy reader, top of her classes, super shy, kind of cliche; a lot of comfort :)

EDITH SPEAKS: this goes out to anyone who is being pressured so hard in life, no matter what the field, but doesn’t feel seen for their efforts. just know you’re doing your absolute best and i’m incredibly proud of you 🌟 a lot of inspiration for this fic and the dynamic is drawn from this drew bot!

masterlist / join my taglist / requests / celebrate blurbchella with me!

The breeze blowing past Rafe is almost soothing to his otherwise heated skin in the summers, and the sun is beginning to slump down the horizon which welcomes an array of pinks, yellows and oranges in the sky.

Rafe’s fingers gently grip the railing in front of him as he looks out at the city, but his mind is solely focused on the figure standing next to him.

You and Rafe were paired for a project, and it’s an understatement to say it’s the oddest pairing. Rafe: the popular guy, knows everyone, the captain of the basketball team; all those clichés.

And you: the quiet nerd, the one who just preferred to stay away from everything overcrowded. Again, all those clichés.

So, Rafe ever so kindly invited you over to his house, Tanneyhill, to work on the project together. You did say you were okay with working in the school library after school too, but Rafe said something about that place being “too boring” and it makes him wanna “sleep each time he goes there”, so you ended up agreeing to his offer of coming over to his place.

You and Rafe have spent a few periods together working on the project, and this what he’s gathered about you so far: you don’t make any conversations unless you’re spoken to, your quiet nature makes you extremely observant, you’re highly efficient with your tasks, and you’re also super creative with your ideas.

As much as Rafe thought he’d be bored throughout the project, he’s actually enjoying working with you and getting a brief insight on how your brain works.

And is he also maybe developing the teensiest tiniest crush on you?

Maybe… but he has too much pride to actually admit it.

But even then, he catches himself looking at you often in your common classes, in the hallways, and the cafeteria where you’re usually with your best friend, otherwise alone.

“So what I’m seeing here is…” he begins to speak and you turn your gaze to him, “if I won’t speak anything to you, we’ll just be silent the entire evening?”

You feel a twinge of heat beginning to spread in your cheeks, causing you to diverge your gaze away from him. “That’s not true,” you say softly.

Rafe can’t help the gentle laugh that leaves his lips. “Well, I like it. It makes me curious to know what goes on in your head,” he says. He does often wonder what you are always thinking about, the way how it seems like you’re always deep in thought.

You stay quiet, and both of you opt to gaze out the skyline, but Rafe can’t help himself catch glimpses of you often.

“So… how are your classes?” He asks. He knows you’re in AP classes, but the real question is why wouldn’t you be? He doesn’t know anyone smarter than you.

He hears you inhale a sharp breath, your gaze now focused back on your hands on the railing. “They’re fine,” you mumble quietly.

Hm.

Your response has Rafe thinking. It doesn’t feel like something you’ve answered on the spot, but it instead felt robotic. As if it’s rehearsed.

As if whenever you’re asked this question or something similar, this is what you always say.

Or maybe he’s reading too much into this.

Still, he can’t help but feel intrigued to know more.

“Yeah? That’s good. I am like, in only two APs and I’m already getting my ass kicked in the current testing week,” he says with a small laugh. “How was your English Lit exam?”

“Hm, good,” you murmur out.

“Yeah, you’re one of the best in our class,” he says warmly. It is true, you’re a stellar student. But you’re just quiet. You barely speak up in class; only when the teacher specifically asks you for the answer. Rafe thinks most intelligent kids want to be the center of attraction, that they want everyone to know they know things the rest of the class doesn’t.

Rafe sees how you remain quiet at his words. He thought maybe you’d say a ‘thank you’ at his compliment, or maybe even a small hum or something, but you remain utterly quiet.

Now he’s sure something is different. And he is definitely feeling concerned.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly. “You’re quiet– I mean, you’re almost always quiet but this is… different,”

Rafe keeps a gaze at you, and watches how you just keep your gaze kept down. He braces himself for yet another automatic answer, something like “I’m fine” or anything along those lines.

“I had my AP Chemistry exam a few days ago,” you begin speaking quietly, and Rafe’s breath almost gets trapped in his chest from how quickly you obliged. Maybe something really serious is bothering you. “And I got the results back today.”

“Was it what you were expecting?” He asks, keeping his tone as gentle as possible, and trying to show you that he’s not being pushy at all. He genuinely just wants to help and lend you an ear.

“It was a 92,” comes your quiet voice.

Hmm, that’s really, really good. He thinks. But why don’t you seem happy?

“I was called by my teacher in her office,” you begin speaking before Rafe can say anything. “I thought I did good. It was a tough exam, and the topics were just as tough. To be honest, I was shocked I got over a 90. But my teacher… she wasn’t happy,”

Rafe furrows his brows at your words. “You got a 92 on a tough test. That is good. I don’t see why she wasn’t happy,”

He watches how your fingers tighten their hold onto the railing, as if it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.

You shake your head in response. “Apparently it wasn’t. Apparently it was the worst I’ve ever done. Apparently she can’t believe I did that test, when anyone could’ve gotten that grade,”

Rafe feels his heart almost break at your words, with the way your voice is quieter than ever before and how he can practically feel how your throat is closing up.

“She, and all the other teachers, they expect… so much from me. I’m studying for hours on end to impress them. I’m not sleeping enough just so I can get the grade that makes them happy,” Your voice breaks down by the end of your sentence and Rafe now knows tears are beginning to slip down your face.

“Hey…” he murmurs softly, keeping a cautious hand on your shoulder. He expects you to repel his touch, but instead, much to his relief, you don’t pull back in any way.

Rafe gives you a gentle pull and you turn to look at him. He sees tears silently flowing down your cheeks, your exhaustion evident in your eyes and on your face. He feels his heart shatter into tiny pieces at seeing you cry, and he tells himself he never wants to see you like this ever again.

Carefully, he pulls you into a hug. He wraps his arms around your figure, wanting to provide you warmth and comfort. For the first few seconds, you don’t reciprocate his actions, but after that, you wrap your arms around his torso, tight, as if this is exactly what you need.

“Shh, you’re okay…” he murmurs softly into your hair when he feels you hold onto him tight and let out sobs against his chest. “You’re doing really good yeah? Absolutely amazing.”

He leans back just a bit to press a soft kiss to your forehead. The action seems almost subconscious, as his body is acting before his mind can catch up. But you don’t seem to have any complaint, so he presses another one onto your skin near your hairline.

“You’re one of the smartest students in our grade, okay? You are taking too much pressure,” he murmurs, running a gentle hand over your back. “Those teachers should recognise your efforts more. You’re doing just fine, sweets. Just fine. You’re going to burn out at this rate. You’re allowed to step back, yeah? To take a break every once in a while. You deserve it,”

Rafe keeps on murmuring soft words of comfort to you and gives you a small forehead kiss ever so often. He feels your crying beginning to die down, but he lets you hold onto him for as long as you feel like.

After a few long moments have passed, you lean back from him and look into his eyes through your blurry ones. Rafe brings his hand up and gently wipes the years collecting in the corners of your eyes. He watches you subtly lean into his touch, so he presses his hand against your cheek, letting you nuzzle against it.

“Thank you,” your murmur, sniffling quietly.

Rafe shakes his head. “No need to say that. I’m here for you, yeah? Always.”

He leans to press another kiss to your forehead, and watches how your body begins to relax in his hold.

He’s willing to be there for you whenever you want him there. And he’s willing to do anything for you.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mccaffreyswifey / @chenslucy / @totalswag / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @superswaggycooch / @kaileashiftz / @weirdowithnobeardo / @chimchimjiminie16 / @ursovaine / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @acidfeens / @cherrys-muses

tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @ilyrafe / @zyafics / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr

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ccupcakeyss · 3 months ago

Note

Thank you for my request that has written. It was hot as heck!

Anyway, I am currently in a difficult moment so I wish you can write a comforting fluff of Xavier after she faced difficult moments (or moments that don't go as well and as planned from trying to buy tickets in advance online even she is quick that the seats are completely full to dealing such drama with friends or anything that upsets her)

Hope you have a wonderful day. I wish we can talk more often sometime. 🌟

hello!!! im so glad you enjoyed your request, and im so sorry that you're feeling upset and i really hope my next writing can help you!!!! youre lucky im feeling rly active today LMFAO so lets get to work!!!

. 𓂃 ଓ ۪ ݁ WHEN THE WORLD FALLS APART, I STAY 𓈒 x

SUMMARY: after a day filled with disappointment and emotional strain, you come home defeated. xavier senses the heaviness and offers quiet, unwavering comfort—no questions, just love. in his arms, you finds solace, he reminds you that even when everything else goes wrong, he will always stay.

CW: this piece includes themes of emotional distress, disappointment, and interpersonal conflict (e.g. friend drama, feeling overwhelmed). while the story is ultimately comforting and supportive, it touches on moments of emotional vulnerability and frustration. reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to these topics!!!

WC: 1.1K!

NOTES: for any xavier fans who are just feeling a bit down in the dumps rn . . . reqs are open if anyone want something similar with another character!! (doesnt have to be l&ds)!

The rain had started hours ago. Not a dramatic, cinematic downpour—just that steady kind of drizzle that made everything feel heavier. The kind of rain that matched the weight of a day gone completely wrong.

It had started with something so simple. Xavier had been excited all week—hell, maybe even longer. There was this event, something you both had been talking about forever. Something that should’ve been easy. Just a few clicks, some fast fingers, and the tickets would be yours. But when the page finally loaded—seconds after the timer hit zero—it was already over. Sold out. Not even a single seat left. The screen mocked you with its red lettering while your heart dropped.

And that had only been the beginning.

After that, it was like the universe decided to pile it on. A conversation with a friend had turned unexpectedly sour—passive-aggressive words, little jabs that cut too deep, and the kind of tone that made it clear something had been festering for a while. You tried to be patient, tried to talk through it, but somehow it twisted and escalated, and suddenly you were left with that horrible, hollow feeling. The one that came from wondering if you’d just lost someone who once felt safe.

By the time you made it back home, the silence felt like too much. Too loud. Too sharp. You dropped your bag by the door, didn’t bother to pick it up, and all you could do was sit on the edge of the couch, staring blankly at nothing, overwhelmed.

That’s when Xavier came in.

He didn’t barge in with noise or questions. He just stepped in quietly, gently closing the door behind him like he already knew—without you saying a word—that today hadn’t been kind.

He saw you, and his face softened instantly. “Hey,” he said, voice low and warm, as if even his tone was trying not to disturb the fragile threads holding you together. “Didn’t even get a hello text. That bad, huh?”

You didn’t even answer. You just nodded once, your lips twitching as if you might try to smile but couldn’t quite make it happen.

Xavier walked over and crouched down in front of you, one knee on the carpet, the other arm resting lightly on your knee. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” he murmured, his fingers curling softly around your hand, grounding you. “I’m here. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Your throat tightened, and you blinked fast, trying to fight the sting in your eyes. But Xavier noticed. He always noticed.

Without waiting for permission, he moved up onto the couch, tucking himself beside you, pulling you gently—carefully—into his arms. It wasn’t one of those dramatic movie hugs. It was quiet. Steady. He cradled you like he was built for it. One hand at the back of your head, the other curled around your shoulders, and his voice soft and close to your ear.

“Today can go to hell,” he said lightly, like he was trying to make you smile, even just a little. “Honestly, I’ll write a very strongly-worded letter to the universe. Something passive-aggressive and full of glitter so it never forgets.”

You let out a breath—something between a laugh and a sob—and he held you a little closer.

“I know how much you wanted those tickets,” he went on. “And it sucks. It really, really sucks. You were fast, you did everything right, and still—it didn’t happen. That’s not your fault. You didn’t mess up.”

You shifted slightly, resting your forehead against his shoulder, the scent of him—something warm and familiar, like lavender and the cotton of old t-shirts—helping slow your racing thoughts.

“And then your friends,” Xavier whispered, as if speaking it too loud would make the pain sharper. “God, I’m sorry. That’s the worst part, isn’t it? The people you think will always be soft with you, and suddenly they’re sharp and distant. That kind of hurt gets deep.”

You nodded wordlessly, and he pressed a loving kiss into your hair.

“But I want you to hear me right now, okay?” His voice was calm, steady. The kind of voice you could fall asleep to. “This one day doesn’t define anything about you. Not how capable you are, not how loved you are, not how strong. It’s just… a bad day. A really bad one. And you’re still here. You’re still breathing. That’s brave, you know.”

You didn’t answer, but your body relaxed a little, your weight leaning into his more freely. He felt it and smiled gently, rubbing small, lazy circles into your back.

“We’ll find something else,” he promised. “Another event. A better one. One with even more ridiculous merch tables and overpriced snacks. And you won’t have to fight the internet for it, because we’ll camp out, or I’ll build a bot, or I’ll buy from a sketchy guy named Greg on the street corner. Whatever it takes.”

You gave the softest laugh, and he tilted his head to look at you. “There’s that sound I love,” he whispered. “God, I missed that sound today.”

Xavier pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around the both of you in one smooth motion, his arm still around you like it belonged there—and it did. He shifted so you were lying down together now, legs tangled, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay around me,” he said. “You don’t have to be anything but real. Cry if you want. Be quiet. Rant about everything that went wrong. Or just lie here. I’ve got you either way.”

And so you stayed like that. Not talking. Not moving much. Just breathing, slowly syncing your breath with his, feeling the warmth of his hold chase away the lingering cold of the day. His fingers played lazily with yours, and his thumb stroked the back of your hand in the kind of rhythm that told you he could stay like this forever.

Eventually, your heart started to ease. The weight in your chest didn’t vanish, but it didn’t feel so unbearable anymore. Because you weren’t holding it alone. Because Xavier was there—solid, warm, unshakably kind—and somehow, that made everything just a little bit better.

Even if the world had been unfair today.

Even if people had let you down.

Even if the tickets were gone and the drama stung and nothing had gone to plan.

Xavier stayed. He stayed, and he loved you through it.

And for now, that was enough.

That was everything.

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writtenbymoonflower · 1 year ago

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I also have another one for Remus. Just the reader kinda feeling down(can you tell I’m not doing that great rn but anyways) she doesn’t want to let anyone in because she doesn’t want anyone to try and fix it because there’s nothing to fix it’s a down moment. But Remus surprises her with some snacks and blankets and is just there. No talking no nothing just simply being there. I know this one would be hella short I just need some comfort (or it could totally be Remus plus marauders) thank you and again no rush 💕

hi sweetness! sorry this took so long! Remus x fem!reader

cw: tooth rotting fluff, hurt/comfort

422 words

You would never admit it, but you were wallowing. You hoped that you were doing a good job at hiding it, but you also knew that in your tired state, your facade was likely sloppy. You were slumped on the couch, forearm held dramatically over your eyes like a damsel-in-distress painting. Sitting in the complete silence of your living room. You didn't even pretend to be watching anything.

In typical circumstances, you would seek out Remus for comfort. It didn't feel fair, though. Remus is a fixer. It's not that he doesn't understand the need for emotional support. He absolutely does. It just really affects him when he feels helpless. If Remus could take every bad emotion, every negative feeling, off of you and onto himself, he would do it in a heartbeat. That's just him. So, you knew you couldn't put him in that position. There was nothing to fix. It was just a bad mood, brought on for no apparent reason. So, no matter how tempting it was to slink into the kitchen and collapse into his shoulder, you wouldn't. You would wait it out until this feeling passes.

Even though you knew that Remus was likely sitting at the bar counter, nursing a warm cup of tea. His usual blend, the one that has begun to have a calming effect on you like some strange pavlovian response.

And even if you knew that the sweater Remus had shucked on today was very, very, soft. And that his hair was particularly fluffy today. You sighed, tucking your legs up onto the sofa with you. You were curled in on yourself when your boyfriend quietly stepped into the living room. His footfalls were so silent that you didn't notice his presence until a blanket was being draped over you. It was wonderfully toasty, straight from the tumble dryer. You dropped your arm from your face, looking up at him pitifully.

"Scoot over, baby dove." He near whispered as he set a steaming mug of cocoa onto the side table. You made room for him on the couch, letting him under the blanket. You made no moves to lean on him. But you didn't protest when he wordlessly pulled you close, urging your head to lay on his chest. He smelled like pure Remus. Stale smoke, coffee, and parchment. Slightly masked by woodsy cologne. You sighed again, but this time it was closer to a satisfied hum. He buried his face into your hair.

"Just rest m' sweet girl. I've got you."

#marauders fanfiction #marauders #marauders fandom #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin fluff #fluff #hurt/comfort #marauders era #anon ask #lily’s asks #anon request

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staybabblingbaby · 3 months ago

Text

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.5 (Verbena)[Chapter ending] a1d1

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 1,076

TO THE UNAWARE: THIS IS A PROGRESS UPDATE OF A CHAPTER NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO DONE! PLEASE DON'T EXPECT A FULL OR POLISHED PRODUCT HERE

Notes: This is the ending for Ch. 5 as of now <3 She has no middle lol this is just how we roll o7 I've been writing these in spurts of sleep deprived inspiration i can't wait to read them back lmao what kind of hot mess am i making of this chapter rn?

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, There are many vague things that could need warnings but i'm not sure they do? lmk

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Main Part (Unfinished </3)

You don’t know why you don’t cry to Taylor as soon as you get home. He’s more invested in all of this drama than you at this point, but still. You don’t tell him. You decline his invitation to eat dinner and listen to the latest gossip from his work, heading straight to your room.

Well, you say you don’t know why, but you do. If you’d stop to think about it for more than half a second, you do.

You’re tired of unloading on him. The two of you were close, but the past few days had really put you in each others pockets in a way you didn’t think you were quite comfortable with. You were used to working through your troubles on your own, and you didn’t like to trouble Taylor when he already did so much for you, but you couldn’t stay quiet around him either.

Something about being prodded made you explode every time.

So, you smiled at him, pretended nothing was wrong that he didn’t already know, and fled to your room. Ran away like you always do.

It’s fine.

Instead of taking comfort in your best (and only, a mean little voice points out) friend, you dig around your room for a while, looking for the really nice noise-canceling headphones your sister had given you for a birthday forever ago.

Your sister had always been something of an audiophile, on account of the whole music snob thing, so she’d taken personal offense to your best headphones being a cheap pair of earbuds that had probably survived more than their fair share of accidents.

In the single most touching move anyone had ever made on your behalf, she’d saved her own money for months to buy you this pair, presenting them to you with the proudest grin you’d ever seen, insulting you with every breath but so, so caring beneath it.

You’re slammed with the memory of her toothy grin when you finally find the headphones, tucked carefully away in the bottom drawer of your desk. You couldn’t describe the feeling the memory leaves you with. Regret, affection, guilt, love.

The wonderful storm of a sibling, you supposed.

‘She doesn’t know about my soulmates.’ you muse as you turn the headphones in your hands.

In the end, you do nothing about that. You just clamber into your bed, bury yourself in far too many soft things, and jam the headphones over your head.

Your relationship with music is, like most things, complicated. You could live and breathe music, you rarely let a moment be truly silent. You don’t think you could stand it if you did.

And yet, you never rarely listened to music either. Not truly, not deeply, not the way some people let it consume their air in their lungs and burn the blood in their veins.

Maybe because you knew full well how deeply you felt it, when you allowed yourself to. You’d spent many nights as a teen laying in bed, not feeling real, letting music explain your emotions to you.

It was a habit you’d stopped when you’d accidentally freaked your sister out. One night you’d been far too overwhelmed, far too done with life, far too ready to fade away into oblivion. Your sister had come to bother you about something or other, as she always did, and as you always let her (because before her there was nothing to be bothered about, anyway).

Except, that day, for whatever reason, you’d taken your astral projecting to some banger playlist or another a bit too far. She’d tried calling for you, tried shaking you, pinching you. She’d waved her hand in your face, tugged at your hair, pulled out your headphones, anything she could think of in that moment.

Eventually she’d started crying, calling for your parents, and crying harder when no one responded. It was her wailing cries that had finally roused you, and she’d gone from sorrow to rage so quickly you’d gotten whiplash.

The way your sister tells the story, you’d looked halfway dead. Eyes half-lidded and vacant, breath shallow and slow, as still as a corpse. Her first thought had been drugs, but there’d been no trace of any when she’d ransacked your room after. She’d been the one to do the research, to badger you into therapy, to force you to live.

So yeah, you hadn’t really indulged since.

But tonight- tonight you had an agenda. Tonight you were going to get to know your soulmates. Exposure therapy or whatever.

You were especially looking for insight into 3Racha tonight. You knew they were the producing unit of the band, that they wrote, composed, arranged, and produced a majority of Stray Kid’s songs. You held a deep belief in being able to know someone through how they created.

You were of the firm opinion that one couldn’t hide themselves in art. No matter how far art diverged from the artist, one would always leave a piece of oneself behind in their work. From the way writers told their stories, to how painters chose their colors, to the melodies that emerged from a musician. Every word, every color, every note, it all held a bit of their creator.

It was a philosophy you’d been reminded of at the museum today. In every painting you’d discussed, throughout all the differing opinions you’d held on their meaning, their stories, their emotions, you could eventually tell which artist had made what painting.

Even before properly analyzing the techniques and subjects, after a while there was a certain vibe about a painting and, sure enough, when you checked it was the artist you thought it was. It was probably a consequence of spending far too long studying far too many paintings for a chance to talk to (who you know knew was) your soulmate, but still.

Even for a fraction of a moment, you’d been connected to the artists. You’d known them then, even in the vaguest of senses.

As you scroll through the Spotify profile of your soulmates, you figure they have plenty of material around for you to get to know them in this way.

With this resolve in your heart, you hit shuffle on the “This Is Straykids” playlist, pull up the details with the song credits, and settle in to study.

And, if the music carries you away to somewhere softer, somewhere warmer, somewhere less scary, well. You could use the help.

The 'Everything Always' Tag List: @chancloud8 , @sh0dor1 ,

Beloved Betas <3: @brbwritingfanfic , @lazyfacecowboy

The Petal List (aka, SGAU update tag list <3): @4ng3l-ch1ld , @sunfk88 , @kaleigh-2002

(If you'd like to be added to a progress taglist, comment below for this series or on this post for any of my other series <3)

#w.i.p fic #w.i.p #stray kids x reader #baby writes #skz x reader #skz fic #skz fanfic #sgau #soulmate garden au #skz soulmate au #writing progress

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pedgito · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Lucien Flores x reader

summary | this is for @iamasaddie's kinky may writing challenge, a mix of a kink i haven't tried writing before and character i adore dearly but know next to nothing about. this was really fun to try out and my first fic back in almost four months, cheers to finally being back ig? may we christen it with smut.

content warning | heavy smut, literally pwp (there's some backstory if you squint), sensory deprivation, safe words, some food consumption as foreplay, some bodily fluid exchange/consumption, gags/restraints/ect and all that good stuff, oral (m/f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, established relationship, lucien is still a relatively blank character so none of this is canon (just how my silly little brain likes to imagine him rn)

word count — 4.7k

The rain is quiet against the apartment window, a soft and slow pattering that matches the slow beat of your heart. You can’t see it, not in your current position as Lucien leans his knee into the mattress behind you and the bed dips, warm fingertips brushing over your cheeks and the shell of your ear as he carefully and methodically secures the blindfold in place with a knot that feels secure. He brushes his fingertip over your nose as he nitpicks and mumbles something under his breath, fixing the black material until your vision is completely hindered.

“Princesa,” His voice is a soft caress, “everything alright?”

Constant check-ins, reassurances, comfortability and security—it was all you felt with Lucien. Things had clicked with him so easily. It made your heart drop into your stomach with the first realization, unlucky with love to a fault that never let up. He had eyes on you from the moment you first met and they never drifted.

A mid-life crisis. You were younger, a subordinate under his wife, and unattainable by most standards and rules. Fetching coffees, keeping Rose on schedule and reminding her of all the never-ending events she kept yes-ing—Lucien and her had long been divorced but a chance encounter at an industry mixer had landed you here. A routine you’ve both upheld for the last six months and it felt real. You had solid ground to stand on with Lucien and he never diminished how you were feeling, even if you felt so embarrassingly naive about things.

And the sex had never steadily climbed and crescendoed—Lucien liked to ravish and devour in a way that had you holding your breath and helped him realize very quickly how overwhelmed you could get. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but there was too much outside distraction—him, the droning buzz of traffic outside of his apartment, the distant muffled television a room away that Lucien always forgot to turn off before settling down for the evening with you.

You needed focus, grounding—given Lucien’s illustrious history and Hollywood rumors and all the things you’ve heard from around town and within the social networks you shared, he seemed like the furthest thing from a good choice.

But, the care and attention he showed you drowned it out entirely.

Hell, he gave you a key to his apartment within a month and you’ve never seen anyone else visit him—he doesn’t host parties here, he doesn’t even let his ex-wife set foot past the threshold. It was your own little sanctuary.

You lift the blindfold slightly and ruin the work he’d done to get it just how he wanted, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Hmm?” He’s got an eyebrow half-raise, features relaxed but masking an obvious worry that he didn’t want to harp about. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

Lucien tilts his head, “How good?”

Just good. Kinda good. I’m only telling you I’m good so you don’t worry about me.

His thumb rubs at your chin and the thoughts float away and you allow yourself to live in the moment, reaping in the undivided attention this man showed you.

“Really good.” You reply salaciously, using the angle to your advantage as he towered over you on the bed, foot dragging along the inside of his thigh and pressing into the back of it until he lost his footing and slipped further into the deep pockets of the comforter. “Better if you start touching me like you kept promising over dinner.”

“Eager today?” Lucien teases as he crawls until he’s found his way between your legs, resting on his outstretched palm as he fixes your blindfold and darkness floods your senses again.

“Game recognizes game.” You retort, allow Lucien to use a guiding hand to settle you against the plush headboard, buttons pulling in on the fanned, velvet material. “I really need this today.”

There’s a soft shuffling and the familiar clink of expensive jewelry scattering against the bedside table—it was the forewarning that Lucien was prepared to make a mess of you, hammering that final nail in the coffin as he drags three fingers in a harmonious unison over your clothed pussy, the thin shirt you were wearing rubbing against the inside of his forearm as he applies just enough pressure to have you chasing after it when it fades away.

“I know, baby.” His voice drips like a warm honey, sticking to your skin and making you sweat. “Say your word.”

“Luce, we do this every time. I know it, we’re good.”

Silence lingered and you cleared your throat, the dip of pressure in the mattress between your legs from his hand, not allowing himself to touch you until you repeated it back to him.

You nod, “Peach.”

The small tick of a fond memory shows on his face, lips curling up at one side. It happens every time and Lucien knows it was meant as a playful jab in the beginning, but it quickly became something so sacred.

You've only used it once and never out of fear or miscommunication—Lucien understood your limits and liked to push when you agreed, but one too many orgasms by his tongue as he buried his head between your thighs had eventually became too much and it was said through a shaky laugh, yanking at his curls until he surfaced.

Lucien, almost instantly, is there—mouth pressed against the barrier of your underwear, fingers curling around your thighs and spreading you apart with ample pressure, exploring your skin like uncharted territory, a new exploration. Like he hadn’t been going down on you for the last several months and already mapped out every inch of your body, knew all the shortcuts and quick routes.

The wetness soaked your underwear, the fleshy fat of his tongue rubbing hot and lapping at the heady taste of your arousal with a sigh before his fingers curl around the edges of your underwear where they cling to your hips, moving them down your legs and suddenly, despite being surrounded by darkness, the feeling of exposure is still daunting. Every time.

“Tell me about your day.”

Then he’s licking a slow stripe down your center and you’re curling at the sudden touch, but quickly relaxing as he settles in, letting your fingers rest back in his soft curls, using your other senses while they are still available. Your mind wanders and wonders, thinking about the expertise and dexterity of his tongue. How if he really wanted you to come, he would have you there in less than a minute, but he was going easy.

“Boring,” Is all you have, “Most of the same.”

He’s just trying to fill the air, giving you a solid distraction outside of his filthy mouth. It’s not exactly his aim to bring up work during sex, especially when it’s in relation to his ex-wife.

“And dinner? How was it?”

Lucien purposefully flicks his tongue over your clit and you gasp softly, tugging at the strands of hair under your fingertips and you feel a hand rub at your lower back as it arches, a tender touch that you give into.

“Perfect,” It’s the truth, eternally grateful for his choice of personal chefs, because as much as you adored Lucien, he was not to be let into a kitchen, “delicious, as always.”

Lucien groans, deep and low against your pussy as his mouth sucks greedily at you, feeling his fingers inching closer and closer to your core, like he’s trying to take things slow for now, but the impatience is winning out. They’re tight at the apex of your thighs currently and just bordering on discomfort when he squeezes every time you moan or sigh or make even the smallest reaction to his mouth.

“R-right there,” You direct, canting your hips up despite his strong grip, “fuck, just—yeah, right there.” Lucien has always responded well, course-correction and sensing the way your body pulls him in, thighs squeezing around him as he dips a finger inside of you in time with his tongue, working you over mercilessly.

The lack of sight is making everything that more intense, searching for something to ground you, using your grip in Lucien’s hair, your other hand placed over his where it’s curled around your thigh as an anchor, feeling him speak against your cunt, filthy words you can’t quite catch but if you could see him, he would be sporting a shit-eating grin.

The heat in your stomach coils, feeling the sensation down your spine as you whimper, one final swipe of his tongue over your clit within the immense build up of tension has you brokenly moaning out, “Come—fuck, I’m c-coming, Luce.”

Lucien laps at your greedily, prying your thighs apart forcefully.

“Shit—” His voice encourages, “—such a sweet fuckin’ pussy. Makes me fuckin’ crazy. Need you to taste it, baby.”

He’s already moving up your body as your lips part, your tongue dipping blindly into his mouth and tasting the headiness of you on his tongue, a sweet tang that isn’t unwelcomed. You don’t often make it a habit to kiss him after he’s gone down on you—he’s often messy, face a mix of saliva and you, smeared all over his chin, but the frenzy in his voice is hard to deny, giggling softly into his mouth as your teeth graze his bottom lip.

You’re still effectively blind, rubbing your palm over the inseam of his silk lounge pants, pulling at the delicate string that was struggling, tight against the length of his cock. Lucien grunts into your neck at the touch and widens his knees against the mattress, biting playful at your skin to soothe it moments later. His hands rub at your weak thighs, still shaking post-orgasm and you can’t help but be eager despite how much energy Lucien had worked out of you.

“Sit up,” You pointedly squeeze at his shaft and lean up, feeling the movement of his body follow. “—my turn.”

Lucien huffs in amusement, shuffling back on his knees as you sit upright. You reach for your blindfold but his hand engulfs your own, “Not yet.” He orders calmly.

You relinquish control to his guidance and sit on your calves as he places your hands flat against his bare chest, just above the softness of his stomach, feeling his heartbeat under your palms. “Like this.”

“But, I want to see you for this.” It’s nearly a beg, more of a test to see how easy he gives into your wants, but he chuckles in response and taps at your chin once. So, that was a no.

Despite how quickly he got off from a single look, his cock stuffed into your mouth and his hand gripping hard at the root of your scalp—maybe he was actually doing himself a favor.

Your shoulders slump slightly, barely noticeable but you smile and trail your fingertips down his abdomen, featherlight as the muscle flexes underneath your touch and they hover around the hem of pants as you lean forward and aim to press a kiss to his sternum, his chest, down and down until you feel your lips brush against the waistband.

“Take it out,” He encourages, “wanna watch you.”

You pull at the waistband with your teeth playfully, curious of just how quickly you're driving Lucien up the wall with the way you're acting, the material catching over his stiff, hard cock and allowing your hands to help you get them the rest of the way down.

Lucien is kind enough to be a guiding hand, thumb pressed against the side of your jaw as he guides you forward, feeding the head of his cock past your lips, tongue dragging along the tip and under, the brush of foreskin like soft, warm velvet.

And you have him in the palm of your hand like this, despite how helpless you must look. It only takes a few minutes before Lucien is louder, mouthier with his words and harsh with his matching thrusts into your mouth.

Frustrated, Lucien pulls at the knot on your blindfold hastily, the soft grunts of his impending orgasm loud in your ears, feeling so starved of sight that when the blindfold falls away and your eyes open and you’re overwhelmed with light, ignoring the fact that Lucien’s cock was nearly pressing against the back of your throat.

But, it’s quickly nulled out by Lucien, towering over you and blocking most of the harsh fluorescence that drown out the room around you, eyes falling close again despite being free of the blindfold as you take him until your nose is pressing against his groin, the fingers resting at the back of your neck squeezing harshly.

Selfishly, he wants to keep you here for a while longer. A few minutes, a few hours.

“Relajate,” Lucien forces out, his mouth hanging open on the word as you pull away, now wide-eyed and wiping away the string of spit that connects you to him, “there’s no rush.”

You smirk at his words, grinning up at him before you lick at the head of his cock, wrapping your hand around his shaft as you respond, “For you, maybe. But, I want you to fuck me.”

Lucien’s fingers dance along the shell of your ear, drifting down the column of your neck until his palm covers the expanse of it before gripping firmly, a soft gasp ripping from your throat as he forces you to straighten, leaning down into your space.

“Slow, princesa,” Lucien demands, “Or you’ll regret it later.”

As if that didn’t already intrigue you enough, you nod subtly and return his mischievous grin.

Slow is what you give him, long strokes as you circle your tongue around the head of his cock, occasionally dipping your head down to lick the underside of his shaft, too dangerously close to his balls, taut from how obviously he was straining to hold off, his usually perfectly quaffed hair sticking to his forehead and every which way.

There is no wondering—you could do this all day if you wanted, bringing him right to the edge but never quite falling, like he enjoyed doing to you, a shared pastime you’ve explored a few times but clearly not enough—because eventually you just get impatient.

Thankfully he seems to understand, nodding as your lips hover near his cock, playful kisses pressed against his pubic bone and scattered around until you finally decide to swallow him down, a few minutes later and he’s coming down your throat, eyes watering at the force but his eyes are locked on your own and you swallow on instinct, taking a sharp breath when he finally pulls back, seemingly just as wrecked as you were a half hour ago as he slumps into the bed, landing on back beside you, his hand rubbing over your knee tenderly.

“Are you up for a snack?”

You look at him quizzically, bemused at his question.

“Is that code?” You tease, fingers scratching at his overgrown stubble beard, “Should I be worried?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Lucien laughs gruffly, groaning as he turns on his side and slips off the bed, walking naked to the door and out of the room casually, coming back into the room with a sizeable plate of cut fruit and you grin, his heel forcing the door closed behind him. “See?”

He offers the plate up as proof as he sets it at the bedside table, though his fingers linger near the closed drawer a few centimeters beneath it. And you know where things are heading, the routine isn’t always the same, but Lucien liked to cover most, if not all the bases on nights where he was really needing the distraction. It seemed to be one of those nights, watching as his fingers dipped inside the drawer to grab the wrist restraints that hooked to the center of his headboard, a soft material that helped with comfort but made it damn near impossible to slip out if you really wanted to while your hands were hooked up.

But, that’s what Lucien wanted. The ability to trust that he would know your limits or that you would trust him enough to react to the safe word if you ever, for any reason, needed to use it.

“Oh—” Your gaze lingers and Lucien rubs the material in his hands.

“This alright?” He wonders, though the glint in your eye is enough of an answer.

You laugh softly through your nose and take the binding in his hand, slipping your wrist through the loops, leisurely scooting back until you hit the headboard, raising your arms above your head, “You tell me?”

Lucien chews absently at his bottom lip as he takes a rogue bite out of one of the strawberries on the plate before leaning onto his knee against the mattress, securing the restraint into place. A small latch that was also accessible to you if needed. He leans down quickly and you’re unprepared for the suddenness of it but he presses against you in a slow, sloppy kiss that leaves you chasing after the sweet juice that lingered in his mouth, mixed with the glass of malt whiskey he’d had earlier.

“Blindfold too?” You ask curiously.

Lucien shakes his head distractedly and takes his seat beside you on the bed, facing in the opposite direction so you’re both facing each other. The lack of clothing should feel distracting, but you’re too focused on his face, watching as he carefully bunches up the leaves on a strawberry and presses it to your lips, tongue curling around it and biting into it with a soft crunch.

‘What’s with the food?” You ask with a slightly furrowed brow, food stuffed in your cheek as you chew, “Not that I’m complaining but…this is…”

“Baby, relax,” He notices the tensing of the muscles in your forearm, nodding in the general direction—you hadn’t realized how hard you were curling your hands into fists until he pointed it out, “—remember the new assistant I hired?”

Another bite and the strawberry is done for, Lucien’s finger following as he wipes away the mess of juice around your bottom lip, savoring it for himself as he presses his thumb against his thumb and sucks and if he sees the way your thighs inch together, he doesn’t say anything.

You hum in acknowledgment and chew at the fruit, remembering the fresh-faced and terrified young man who Lucien had given a shot to after firing his old assistant—the embezzling funds was a problem, but he also insisted that he needed a fresh start, but you didn’t think he meant that fresh.

“I was craving it,” Lucien shrugged, “He went and picked up a bunch of shit.”

“Craving it,” You mince the words and Lucien chuckles, noticing your pointed gaze, “—for a sex thing, clearly.”

Caught. Sort of.

Lucien was big on trying new things—it was harmless, but the way he had tore into a peach during the picnic luncheon at for the acting agency both he and Rose worked under, eyes locked on you as he split it in half and shared the other half with you, less than careful about the way he cleaned up the juices on himself and you, finding yourself unexpectedly drooling over him in one of your less than finest moments. It was either the delicious fruit or an oral fixation. Maybe both.

He shoved a slice of kiwi between his teeth and leaned forward, pressing the fruit into your mouth and following with his tongue, devouring you into a kiss that has you whining quietly into his mouth, pulling away as you leaned forward to chase after him, chewing at the fruit in annoyance as you slumped back.

“Play nice, princesa.” Lucien teases.

“I am,” You retort with a sharp bite in your town, “you are making me wait.”

Lucien takes the ringlet slice of pineapple and squeezes it over your bare chest, down the valley of your breasts and you gasp at the sudden change in temperature against your hot to the touch skin, eyes snapping to the liquid traveling to your belly button.

“Lucien!”

You shriek, watching as he tossed the mangled fruit aside and made his ascent, licking from your belly button to the junction of your neck in one go, hovering over you with a devilish smile.

“If you don’t fuck me right now—” You gritted through clenched teeth and he presses his forehead against your own, giving you nowhere to hide as he stares you down, “I swear to god, Luce—”

“You trust me, right?”

“Stupid question,” You retort, nudging him back with your nose, “of course.”

Lucien hides the bemused expression on his face as he looks away, leaning over the side of the bed for a couple items that are out of your line of sight but quickly come into view as he lays them against your stomach, his thighs slotted underneath your own, taut muscle rubbing against your skin.

“Thought we could,” He separates them out carefully along your abdomen, “try a few at once.”

A gag—familiar and frequently used, black leather around a silicone black ball. A different blindfold, more like a sleep mask—it looked like Lucien’s sleep mask, actually. He could use the traditional one he tends to stick with but it seems he’s aiming for comfort here, fingers tracing along the last item with a raised brow.

“Ear buds? Really, Lucien? Headphones?” You giggle softly, “You want me to listen to music while we—”

“No, no—” Your laughter is infectious and he chuckles too, “baby, they’re just noise canceling.”

“Oh?” Your wrist yanks in interest before you realize you’re still restrained.

“If it’s too much, we don’t have to.” Lucien is very clear about that, fingertips pressed into the sheets beside your hips.

“You really like when I give over control, don’t you?” You tease playfully.

“Como siempre.” He says softly before leaning down to nip at your breasts, eyes flicking up at you.

“Okay, yes. But—” You look up at your hands, bound but not uncomfortable, “maybe no blindfold. I’ll keep my eyes closed but I want to see you. I like being able to see you.”

Lucien nods in agreement, a slow and treatours pace he takes as he retreats, tongue dragging down the center of your body and still tasting slightly of citrus. He smirks at your obvious squirming before doing away with the blindfold and allowing himself to get everything else in order.

The gag comes first, a small muffled grunt as he tightens the strap around the back of your head, adjusting it until you give him a solid nod. It helped that despite your inability to communicate verbally that Lucien had created a way for you to rid yourself of your wrist restraints whenever everything felt a little too much but you weren’t worried about using your safe word, a small latch connected to the metal chain that linked you to the headboard, easily accessible. And then the headphones, an odd experience to say the least—you can’t imagine what kind of money Lucien wasted on these because they immediately drown out all noise, the small buds resting in your ears and relatively out of sight.

It feels ridiculous, but when Lucien speaks and you can’t hear, your heart races with an anticipation you’ve never felt before. Exhilaration, more like.

You have no other choice than to watch—watch as Lucien settles comfortably back, kneeling as he runs his fingers along the underside of his cock and down to his balls, cupping them and rolling them around leisurely, your eyes watching every single movement, teeth baring down gently around the ball as he fists him, fingers dragging over his shaft and working himself up quickly, his chest slightly flushed from a mix of your previous activities and now, his eyes never settling on one piece of your body for too long.

You communicate through nods and eye contact, feelings incredibly vulnerable in the moment, watching as Lucien pressed himself inside of you with slow intention and you swear you can hear the deep exhale he forces out through his nose as it flares before he settles and gives you no time at all to prepare, a small gasp escaping you as your finger tighten around the slack in the strap connection your wrist cuffs to the bed, a slow but deep snap of his hips that shatters your focus, back arching into his touch as his fingers run along your spine and dig in, gripping you tight, practically sitting in his lap with the angle he has you held at.

“Mi vida,” He sighs, knowing you can’t hear him, “mi vida, mi vida, mi vida,” growing quiet with every utterance of it, “too perfect for me, baby.”

The vibration of his voice is pressed against your collarbone, his nose dragging along the junction of your neck and you’re so curious of what he’s saying, but you try not to let your mind wander—not that he allows much of that, gradually switching the pace to something stronger.

You wished you were stronger than Lucien liked to give you credit for, but you do find that your impatience eats away at you, coming in short whines and pleading looks and Lucien catches your gaze, eyes soft and watery.

He’s breathing out in short grunts through his mouth and you can see his nose scrunch up as he groans, fingers digging into your skin, squeezing tight at your hips—you can’t do it anymore, reaching your fingers up to grasp at the latch keeping your arms hoisted up, falling back in a heap with Lucien pressed against your chest, hastily slipping your hands out of the binding.

Lucien catches on quickly, working the gag off and tossing it aside, hearing it clink heavily against a nearby object but neither of you bother looking and quickly discarding the headphones on the nightstand, his forearms coming around your head to barricade you in.

You’ve never felt more safe.

“Pobrecita, come on,” Lucien coos, “ask for it, yeah? You want me to touch you?” Lucien moans heavily against your skin, your own hands twisting it his hair, fingers curling gently around the back of his ears, “Want me to make you come with my cock inside you? Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” You whine softly, “touch me—please, just touch me.”

He doesn’t move quick enough, finding that your hand quickly searches for his own, pressing it between your bodies and his fingers know you, working like muscle memory as he circles your clit a combination of his middle and ring and it’s nearly instantaneous, a mix of built up tension and desperate need for release. Your fingers pinch at the skin of his neck as you come, pulling the hair at the nape of neck and breathing in a sharp gasp, mouth hung open in silence as your eyes squeeze shut.

“That’s it, baby.” Lucien breathes quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your breast as you come, eventually finding your lips and kissing you thoroughly, silencing your weak moans, chest heaving deeply in the aftermath as he pulls back, nothing he’s on the edge himself.

“I want you in my mouth again,” You sound desperate, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze from where he towers over you, fists gripping the sheets, “wanna taste us together, baby.”

Lucien rises suddenly, one palm pressed against the headboard as he grips his cock with the other, quickly spilling over your stomach, a sigh punches from his chest as he comes down, flush with a slight embarrassment at how easily it was for you to work him up.

“Or not,” You say through a tired laugh, soft and airy, “too much?”

“Never.” Lucien assures, brow furrowing in amusement as he drags a finger through the mess he made, bringing it to your mouth and allowing you to suck, lick, and make an over the top and unnecessary show as you swallow his cum and Lucien feels his cock twitch between his legs, despite how tired his body felt.

“Jesus, princesa,” He laughs, “—greedy tonight?”

You mirror his actions, bringing your own finger into the mess before pressing it into his mouth—and Lucien opens with a lust-drunk grin, capturing your wrist in a tight grip and licking off his own spend from your finger.

“Absolutely.”

And thank god, because your night was far from over.

↝ beta: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #my writing #little lady kinky may #lucien flores #pedro pascal

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